6 P.M. Wild Hex

Nominated for: Best Garage Rock

Toddlers were among the Record Store Day revelers at Apop Records this year, pounding the sky and dancing to the bands outside. It was fairly innocent until the Wild Hex set, when the kiddos picked up extinguished cigarettes and previously drained beer bottles from the pavement and enthusiastically mimicked drinking and smoking while strumming serious air guitar. Wild Hex corrupted these developing minds with the pure power of thrashing, frantic rock & roll. The band's latest album, You're Gonna Get It, was released by Hexian member and proprietor of Don't Touch My Records Gabe "The Babe" Karabell. Currently, Wild Hex is working on an album slated for release later this month, and recorded by Jason Hutto at Smokin' Baby Studios. Won't someone think of the children?— Jenn DeRose

7 P.M. Black Panties

Nominated for: Best Rock

Black Panties is a snotty punk riddle wrapped in leather and drenched in PBR. Originating as a one-man guitar assault, the project now most frequently evolves into a full-fledged band, complete with a human microphone stand and a rotating cast of St. Louis' independent music community. Donning a leather jacket, black ski mask and cool shades, the group's ever-mysterious frontman reeks of sarcasm as he sings songs like "I Don't Care About the Punx" and "Piece of Shit." With several outstanding recordings and a few rowdy tours across the Midwest and East Coast under its belt, Black Panties has proven it is a force that can hold its own both on the turntable and on the stage. — Josh Levi

8 P.M. Beauty Pageant

Nominated for: Best Noise

Beauty Pageant huffs the dying breath of arena rock. Imagine the peak of your favorite cock-rock band — the last 30 seconds of the set, when the guitars go haywire while the drummer winds up for one final hit. Beauty Pageant takes the ugliest part of rock & roll — the showy, masculine solos — and makes a mockery of it all. Mr. Ben leads with shrill riffage under David Burnett's wobbly synth, crafting a wide tonal range that fills the ears with swamp water. You might recognize Blyre Cpanx from her busy nights performing burlesque, but here she helps the band to self-destruct, making this noise even punker than punk rock. — Joseph Hess

9 P.M. Pink Sock

Nominated for: Best Hardcore

Pink Sock makes a show out of self-destructing, and although it logically should have imploded by now, the band still pulls at the tendons of punk rock in St. Louis. For a band born in 2009 of equal parts parody and performance art, hardcore seems like an unlikely destination. Vocalist Travis Hanrahan tends to mangle himself over stage gear and angry bandmates, but ultimately his scream — as skin crawling as can be — propels the songs atop scattershot blast beats. The whole package feels honest, lacking the clean dressing most modern punks tend to wear. — Joseph Hess

10 P.M. Little Big Bangs

Nominated for: Best Rock

We're reached an age where most up-and-coming bands don't remember a world without Nirvana. Some young rockers may even have been born after Kurt Cobain shuffled off this mortal coil and left behind an impossibly tall shadow. And so it goes that Little Big Bangs, one of the best of a crop of early-twenties rock bands, bears traces of grunge but pays no slavish devotion to the subgenre. Last year's self-titled LP showed how the band's trio of singers — Eric Boschen, Ryan Macias and Lucy Doughtery, joined by drummer Drew Gowran — can wrangle the best from punk, pop and sludge-rock into something that is animated by static, strings and raw power. — Christian Schaeffer

11 P.M. The Conformists

Nominated for: Best Experimental

A purveyor of rock both chopped and warped, the Conformists' sets tend to play out like a series of musical inside jokes, but not necessarily for fun — the band shows what an alternate future might look like had the Jesus Lizard and Melvins rose to mainstream fame. But even in that context, the Conformists would still be a sideshow. Songs hit with considerable heft, feeling massive and heavy without the masculine pandering of modern metal. Drummer Pat Boland brings a surgeon's precision to the kit, matching the band's texture with sharp, specific beats while both guitar and bass occupy bold tones within wiry riffs. Repetition is present, but it's mostly meant as a tool to confuse, and before the listener catches on to the act, the band has moved on. Recommended for the A.D.D.-addled child within us all. — Joseph Hess

MIDNIGHT Everything Went Black

Nominated for: Best Hardcore

Everything Went Black, and it never went back. You could interpret that (accurately) as a bad joke, or you could see it as a commentary on the band's commitment to metallic hardcore. Formed in 2009, EWB has only become more vicious with time. Frontman Brandon Hoffman has the lungs of a man three times his physical stature, and the remainder of the quintet has road-tightened into a national-caliber band. The group has often drawn comparisons to iconic hardcore veteran Converge; today, the similarity has as much to do with Everything Went Black's stamina and energy as its stylistic choices. — Ryan Wasoba

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