On the song, "The Wind Cries Gary," Karen (the band) nicely sums up just what makes them so appealing; beginning with the stupid-silly song title, and on through the bubblegum bass line, angular guitars and shouty vocals, there is an undeniable, goofy exuberance that permeates the music. The band's punk streak seems to be more of a means to an end than anything else. It's what allows Karen to play pop music with complete, messy abandon, and to leave a series of cluttered dance floors in their wake. Even the name, Karen, is so much of a playful fuck-you in its online obscurity and winking blandness. Karen doesn't really need you to meet them halfway; they just like watching you try. 

[Northern, with Georgy, Chung Antique, Total Bros, 9 p.m., all ages, $5, 321 Fourth Ave., Olympia, northernolympia.org]