Threaded about the audible foot-pedal thumps of Seattle-based singer-songwriter Perfume Genius are usually nothing more than his angelic – yet intensely raw – coo and maybe a scratchy synth line for warmth. But that's it. All that's left are some achingly tender anecdotes about writing letters to siblings and daughters holding their mothers, that float forever in the room like cathartic ghosts. New York baroque popster, Sebastian Blanck, and Chicago’s Mazes, open. (Gavin Paul)
