In a town where music seems to be dying a slow, unwilling death, San Francisco's Erase Errata manage almost single-handedly to halt the process. Drawing heavily from the minimal clatter of the Fall, Erase Errata songs revolve around spare structures, complex rhythms and abstract melodies. The vocalist's dry, exclamatory style is captivating -- think of a female Mark E. Smith in aviator sunglasses. Meanwhile, nervous, blinky-eyed guitar riffs join candid, inquisitive basslines like a chain link fence that's kept taut and alert by solid, unwavering drums. This is music that not only inspires the listener's attention but viscerally demands action, both personal and political.