We'll run art on Ted Leo when he busts out a floater.

If Jack Johnson has taught us anything, it's to never, ever underestimate the sheer marketability of surfing. Obama's entire general election strategy in Hawaii revolved around a single photo-op at the deadly Sandy Beach (see below), just as Johnson built a rabid following by scoring niche surf films. Gentle crooner/beach bum Donavon Frankenreiter, who plays his third NYC show this week tonight at the Bowery Ballroom, was signed by Johnson to his Brushfire Records imprint in 2002, but his selling out Mercury Lounge last Sunday should be attributed to the relentless support of the surfing community and corporate sponsorship from Billabong. Sorry Clive, the majors ain't what they used to be...

Ted Leo, known for devout leftist activism and rollicking calls to arms like
"Me and Mia" and "Where Have All the Riots Gone," has wisely pressed on through
the public's mass post-election ravishment. He does a free gig at the Hudson River Park.

Black-metal harbingers Goatwhore, who're "just as entertaining as you'd expect a band called Goatwhore to be," are at the Gramercy Theater.

Local shoeless indie trio Air Waves are at the Cake Shop with Yellow Fever.

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Popular musicians from Africa (see: K'Naan, Baaba Maal) often compare themselves to griots, the hereditary retainers of histories, art, and song. Instead renown Kora player Foday Musa Suso, who was actually born into the caste, makes overtures with American folk music at the City Winery tonight. These compositions are remarkable.

Malajube continues to sing in French despite moderate commercial success, which, now that we think of it, really shouldn't seem so out there. The brazenly Canadian indie band plays Maxwell's.

Plastician produces and mixes dubstep, a minimal blend of driving drums and sub-frequencies that lay waste to subwoofers. He's at Santos' Party House.

The indiscriminate Charlie Haden gets with a new pianist every night this week, and the Jazz in July series gets under way.

As a 16-year-old coal miner's son, Tom Jones dropped out of school to support the Catholic schoolgirl he'd knocked up. But when exactly did Mrs. Linda Jones realize she'd hit the jackpot? The Welsh singer held his own against martyrs like Joe Meek, Janis Joplin, and Elvis Presley, and cut his teeth on Bond themes and Vegas stints to become one of the most consistent breadwinners in show-biz history. Just excuse the infidelity... He's at the Beacon. Update 5:45 EST: the show's just been postponed, according to a press release, "Due to illness and the advice of [Tom Jones's] physician." Hope Tom's okay.

Anyone distraught by reggae's current misrepresentation as stoned frat-boy fodder will be pleased to know that two of Jamaica's most puritanically Rasta acts, Toots & the Maytals and Eek-a-Mouse, are performing at B.B. King's.

Meanwhile, stoned frat-boys will probably enjoy the "reggae backbeat and ska-prepster brass" of Paolo Nutini, who plays Terminal 5. The nimble young singer's talent belies his age and audience.

Finally, Wispy-voiced Democrat Jackson Browne is charging big-government prices for his gig at the Prospect Park Bandshell.

As a DJ and producer, Theo Parrish is a staple of Detroit's house scene. His jazzy, downtempo "sound sculptures" are ideal for a Monday night: deep, vibey, and sexy as hell. He mixes techno with classic soul and r&b tracks at Cielo.

Pianist Jenny Lin's recent recording of Shostakovich's 24 preludes and fugues is credible for two reasons; Both piece and performer have streamlined contemporary music into the classical idiom with intricacy and reserve, and the cycle was orginally composed for a young, female virtuoso. She plays excerpts at (le) poisson rouge.

Mark Eitzel, who's honed his sadcore face fronting the American Music Club since 1982, does a solo set at Maxwell's.

Fans of "pussified arena rock" (e.g. Coldplay or Keane) have a new champion in Your Vegas, who play a free Webster Hall show tonight.

You're going to the Siren Music Festival, and here's 10 reasons why:

1. Admission is free.

2. It's your last chance to catch Frightened Rabbit in New York this summer. Frontman Scott Hutchison, noted for slopping "filthy, twisted stuff on top of really quite polished bass," sings about dismembered organs and feces through a really quite sexy brogue.

3. If Hutchison's bloody Scottish humor gets you squirming, Future of the Left will be on hand with dry, virile British humor covering the likes of Michael Jackson, Catholics, and slutty California girls.

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The Kronos Quartet's latest effort, the Middle Eastern-themed Floodplain, was "inspired by the idea that areas prone to devastating flooding will experience creative rebirth after a catastrophe," which is great news for New Orleans residents with exclusive access to an ark. The famed "new music" ensemble's Prospect Park Bandshell performance is free and open to the public.

The one and only Man Man will play at the East River Park, also for free. This freaky viking-vaudeville five-piece does "a bizarre mix of Tom Waits, Frank Zappa, and carnival music."

British lo-fi outfit Lovvers are the good-natured soulmates of Wavves, minus the latter's classic self-destructive tendencies and intelligible vocals. They're warming things up at the Cake Shop.

Jack White amuses himself on the drums with his new side project, Dead Weather, featuring the Kills' Alison Mosshart, at Terminal 5.

MIchael's editor would like to know if this clip makes any more sense in context. He doubts it.

The Jonas Brothers have siphoned any trace of youthful rock 'n' roll energy out to the Izod Center tonight, leaving us city-dwellers a matured palette:

Chuck Mangione, America's most famous/only famous living flugelhorn player, vacates his toilet-paper fortress for six nights at the Blue Note.

William Elliott Whitmore, who plays the City Winery tonight, may be another young, white alt-rocker imitating an old Delta bluesman, but unlike the Kenny Wayne Shepherds of the world, he's not in it for the Guitar Center sponsorships. His rich baritone makes this clear.

Let them eat bikes! Celebrate Bastille Day by sacking Lit Lounge with hardcore outfits Olde Ghost and DBCR.

Bill Carothers and his trio graciously return to civilization for their Village Vanguard debut this week.

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Jeff Tweedy and the boys are back in the city (at Coney Island!) for the first time since dropping Wilco (The Album). Depending on who you talk to, the sort-of eponymous album is either "the quiet slaughter of all that is elemental, passionate, and reverentially stupid about rock 'n' roll" or just "kind of a snooze." Regardless, their live show is always a tremendous affair; expect a huge turnout and a ferocity their recordings can barely hint at. The $45 tag also covers Yo La Tengo.

God knows what Charlie "Bird" Parker would say if he caught Stephanie J. Block singing Wicked tunes at Birdland. But no worries; even during jazz's epochal years, he generally got himself banned from the club.

Aimee Mann works the wine and cheese crowd, and we love her all the more for doing it so well.

Take a picnic, blanket, and lover (preferably your own) to the Metropolitan Opera's free summer recital, i.e. "the pinkie-out way to take in the Summerstage series."

The 10 for $10 Tour, a matinee hardcore showcase, comes to town on Friday, as does Venezuelan rock 'n disco troupe Los Amigos Invisibles. Afrobeat heads: Antibalas frontman Amayo is bringing his kung fu-themed SUNCITY project to the 92YTribeca.

Saturday, Master DJ Derrick Carter plays the Sullivan Room, while Carl Craig & Gamall throw a beach party. Also, Brooklyn-based bassist Gregg August lends his agility to a threesome.

On Sunday, Fucked Up joins Mission of Burma in bleeding and puking on Williamsburg (for free!), while Parts & Labor drop excess Williamsburg avant-rock on Bushwick. The terrific Love as Laughter, who've signed to Isaac Brock's Glacial Pace imprint after 14 years of the same, play the Music Hall (also for free).

Tonight we give props to the infant, hopelessly unsustainable civilization young Brooklynites have built for themselves. The music these kids concoct is so innocent, so unworldly: catch it now before the asbestos in their hastily-redecorated warehouse walls exterminates everyone. Nymph, Begushkin, and Dinowalrus cross the river for a New York Eye and Ear Festival showcase, while Justice of the Unicorns hold down the fort at Bruar Falls in Williamsburg.

Metalocalypse mastermind Brendon Small also wrote, recorded, and produced both of Dethklok's albums. So by Adult Swim's calculations, this guy is the second coming of Odin. He's at Santos' Party House.

Tim Hagans has the chops to make his trumpet speak, and the sense to stick to standards. He begins a week at Birdland.

The Latin Alternative Music Conference hosts its first panels at the Roosevelt Hotel, both of which are somehow named after European pop songs--You Can Go Your Own Way: Indie Artist Tour Success Stories, and Politik Kills: Latin Artists & Political Engagement in the Era of Obama.