MILES BENJAMIN ANTHONY ROBINSON
8:30 p.m., Sticky Fingerz, $8 adv., $10 d.o.s.
Earning comparisons to modern-day angst peddler Conor Oberst can be both blessing and curse. While the badge garners instant curiosity from a huge chunk of the blog savvy, it also has the power to box a songwriter within the critically defined borders of the Nebraskan’s intimidating shadow. What sets Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson apart from his Saddle Creek label mate is that his lyrics of desperation and self-loathing are born of underage alcoholism and past homelessness, not of narcissistic “woe is me” posturing. His triumphant sing-along, “Buriedfed,” and its crux line, “they took her to the doctor to fix her heart and heal her head/she said ‘Goddamn, I’m tired of being black.’ ” epitomize his naked, no-excuses exercises in sincerity. The lyric — like the song itself — is a chest-grabber of the highest caliber. And, like the rest of his repertoire, it’s done with a signature smirk and a wink. Brooklyn indie-popsters Suckers and Shilpa Ray and Her Happy Hookers share the bill.