A DAY TO REMEMBER, BRING ME THE HORIZON, PIERCE THE VEIL, WE CAME AS ROMANS
Knitting Factory | March 30

Post-hardcore poster band ADTR, playing their second, and even more crowded, show in Spokane, took out all the stops this time around, bringing in confetti cannons, balloons and singer Jeremy McKinnon walking in a plastic bubble on top of the crowd a la Wayne Coyne. Besides the three kids who were carried past me, two with bloody noses, I’d say this show was perfect. (AP)

PIKACHU * MAKOTO
Object Space | May 2

The crowd stood in a semicircle around this female Keith Moon and this Japanese Jimi Hendrix, mouths fixed in wide smiles, heads bobbing in unison. And suddenly, Pikachu Yasashii got up after slaying on the drum kit, ran from fan to fan, borrowing hats and glasses and jackets to wear on her 90-pound frame during an epic finale. (Leah Sottile)

RED FANG
A Club | May 12

The only thing better than a band who can bring it live is a band who can bring it live and sound just like they do on record. Red Fang did both, opening their tour promoting Murder the Mountains in Spokane. It was a soul-cleansing bar-rock show, one that ended with a floor wet with beer and sweat. (LS)

ALLEN STONE, MAYER HAWTHORNE
Knitting Factory | June 1

Detroit nouveau-R&B artist Mayer Hawthorne was only part of the attraction at this free Wednesday night show. Hawthorne came onstage in an odd shorts suit, and he spent about an hour wooing and cajoling the mostly-full room. But the crowd seemed more interested in the night’s opener, Chewelahborn soul singer Allen Stone, whose career exploded this year. The explosive high note he hit on “Aware” sent out waves of pleasure that Hawthorne simply couldn’t match. (Joel Smith)

NEKO CASE, Y LA BAMBA
Bing Crosby Theater | July 7

The little, big-throated singer from Tacoma had the misfortune of having to compete with Ted Nugent, whose thunderous licks could occasionally be heard through the wall from the neighboring Knitting Factory, but Case kept her cool, delivering elegant, soulful renditions of tunes from Fox Confessor Brings the Flood and her latest, Middle Cyclone, and chatting more readily — and more geekily — with her audience and bandmates than she has in previous Spokane appearances. (JS)

ASTRONAUTALIS
A Club | Oct. 6

It was sad, at first. The ballroom felt especially empty on this Thursday night when Astronautalis, the hip-hop artist out of Jacksonville, Fla., took the stage. He couldn’t not comment on the meager turnout and thanked the 30 of us in the audience for being there — and not being texting-fiend assholes. Then he started. Rapping, singing, jumping, sweating, as though we were in a stadium. Then he got on the dance floor with everyone, huddled us up shoulder-to-shoulder, and then, as one, we all bounced up and down as we sang “Trouble Hunters” together. (Jacob H. Fries)

THE GLOBES
Museum of Arts & Culture | Oct. 14

Thank goodness we saved the MAC, because aside from being an essential fixture in our local arts scene, the museum also proved to be quite the music venue. Local love for the Globes brought out 1,200 people, who packed the gallery space as well as the surrounding walking ramps overlooking it. (Tiffany Harms)

BBBBANDITS, MYTHSHIP, STRONG KILLINGS
Checkerboard Tavern | Nov. 5

I felt kinda bad for the touring band: halfway through BBBBandits’ set, the crowd was on fire. A girl jumped onstage to go-go dance next to guitarist Gawain Fadeley, whose face bore a shit-eating grin the rest of the set. City council candidates rubbed elbows with old punks — all in the name of a local surf rock revolution. That kind of energy couldn’t last all night, and the headliners might have left wishing they’d opened for BBBBandits instead. (LS)

MCDOUGALL
Mootsy’s, Spokane | Nov. 18

This guy wasn’t on the bill. Larry and His Flask were the ones who were supposed to slay the crowd — packed on top of a church pew and on pool tables, and in front of Jesus paintings and graffiti. Instead, a bearded one-man-band destroyed the crowd with his kick drum, high hat, harmonica, and arsenal of strings. People danced, clapped hands and banged their heads to the plucking of a banjo. When he sang Johnny Cash, the sweaty crowd almost fell to their knees. (Jordy Byrd)