One of the leaders of the contemporary indie-folk revolution, Ben Chasny, aka Six Organs of Admittance, blends neo-singer songwriter introspection, fingerpicking virtuosity, avant-drone experimentation and new weird psychedelic noise. The result, which burns with a dark spiritual melancholy and expansive beauty, conjures yet destroys the flaccid folk template of yesteryear. On Shelter From the Ash, his new record and the third to be released by seminal indie rock label Drag City, Chasny’s haunting, guitar-based meditations achieve epic reach, evolving from quiet moments that bristle with serene tension into explosive moments of textured sonic exploration. The result is Chasny at his most cohesive—haunting, ethereal and triumphant in equal measure. Helping to shape Shelter From the Ash’s folk-rock ragas was an impressive list of underground luminaries, including Noel Harmonson (Chasny’s bandmate in Comets on Fire), Matt Sweeney (of Chavez, Zwan and Superwolf), Tim Green (of the Fucking Champs) and Elisa Ambrogio (of noise freaks the Magic Markers), whose distinctive vocals and guitar work feature into the live Six Organs experience on this tour. Opening the show is Mick Turner of the Dirty Three, purveyor of heartbreaking atmospheric minimalism, and new local indie act the Lochs, featuring current and former members of the Old Sweethearts and the Sleeping Kings of Iona.

A cold snap such as the one we’ve just endured, with cruel February stretching ahead—this alone encourages squirrelly behavior, spiritual regression, dark paranoia. It is easy in midwinter to believe this city is cursed: bad politics begetting bad government, bad sports teams begetting bad tempers, bad economies begetting bad times. Maybe we are cursed, and maybe we are in need of an exorcism, and maybe the only one who can tell us for sure whether the region’s problems are substantial or spiritual in nature is ghosthunter Mason Winfield. Winfield hosts a party this Saturday at which the curse of star-crossed Buffalo will be examined, diagnosed and—hopefully—dispelled through that most potent of local rituals: libations, provided in this case by Flying Bison Brewery. There will be traditional healers, psychic readers, astrologers and a dowser on hand, as well as guided tours of the reputedly haunted Town Ballroom. A historian from the Seneca Nation will discuss the Iroqouois perspective on the curse and Michael Bastine, Algonquin teacher and activist, has prepared some special guidance for those in attendance. A portion of the proceeds will benefit the Landmark Society of the Niagara Frontier.

Unlike the dollar these days, jazz doesn’t decrease in value when you take it abroad. Quite the contrary—it’s usually worth far more when it’s introduced back into the local musical currency. It would be hard to find a better example of this than the Lionel Loueke Trio. Born and raised in the West African country of Benin, guitarist Loueke studied jazz in the Ivory Coast and Paris before connecting with bassist Massimo Biolcati (who is of Italian descent but was raised in Sweden) and drummer Ferenc Nemeth (from Hungary) at Boston’s Berklee School of Music. Not surprisingly, their music sounds like the most unexpected jazz you’ve ever heard. Loueke specializes in lacy, virtuosic guitar lines set to complex time signatures, recalling his African background, but he breaks it up with resonating jazz chord progressions and staccato solos. Since his bandmates had studied African music even before meeting him, they’re more than able to follow his sinuous trail. So far Loueke’s been best known as a talented sideman for musicians like Herbie Hancock and Terrence Blanchard, but the trio showcases him at his most individual. The afternoon concert is preceded by a 2pm film on African guitar-picking styles.

If you’re like me, you probably won’t recognize Michael Glabicki’s name until it’s accompanied by that of the Pittsburgh sextet which he fronts, Rusted Root. Yes, Rusted Root has seen its share of successes since it formed in the late-1980s, the most notable of which is the song “Send Me On My Way” from the hit 1994 album When I Woke. But the band’s unique polyrhythmic, multicultural sound—and probably a good deal of its success—is probably owed to Glabicki, who lists Nicaraguan street music as a primary influence and who made African drumming prerequisite knowledge for that band’s drummer. His sound as a solo musician, though, is quite different; it’s less happy and hippy (which happens when you spend a lot of time alone), and more intimate and brooding. As always, Glabicki’s powerful voice—which variously hums and floats but is always fluidly expressive—is his greatest musical asset. This is Glabicki’s second solo tour, and he’ll soon start work recording his second studio album. Catch him next Thursday at Hilbert College, where he’ll perform an intimate, not to mention dirt-cheap, acoustic show.