Even for music fans, leaving the house on an icebound January night to catch a live show takes a certain amount of grit and determination. That and simple faith—the hope that after making your way through streets so cold that the sidewalks ring under your heels, you’ll hear something hot enough to justify the trip. A band that can turn up the heat acts as a steam valve, releasing the explosive pressure of a month or so of built-up cabin fever. Saturday night at the Press Room, King Memphis provided abundant BTUs with three solid sets of rockabilly rhythm.

Members of jazz-funk sextet Mac Tough seem very much at home within the familiar confines of The Barley Pub in Dover. Most of the musicians have played here regularly, in various contexts, over the past several years. The band’s comfort level and casual approach translate into a perfect fit for the pub’s Wednesday night funk series. Pub patrons can catch Mac Tough on three more nights, Jan. 16, 23 and 30, during the band’s month-long residency in January.

at The Press Room, Dec. 28

Elsa Cross sipped from a shot glass before stepping onto the stage on the second floor of The Press Room in Portsmouth. Wearing a red dress that contrasted vividly with the all-black outfits of her band mates, her blond hair pulled back into a long ponytail, Cross picked up her guitar and played her first song of the evening alone. The rest of the band joined her on the second song, “Because of You,” and Cross’ elegant but authoritative voice quickly drowned out the noisy chatter in the packed bar. Within moments, everyone was paying attention.

“We’re a bunch of drunk assholes. It’s good to be back in Dover.”

With these warm words of introduction, Jonny Swagger launched his band into a frenetic set of Celtic punk rock at the Dover Brick House. Sandwiched between power punk trio Bugo and Boston rockabilly stars Dave Smith & The Country Rebels, The Swaggerin’ Growlers returned to their lead singer’s hometown to participate in the Brick House’s Wicked Wednesday festivities on the late evening of Dec. 12.

Swagger, the band’s lead singer and guitarist, was obviously amped up for the occasion. With a devilishly giddy grin on his sweat-caked face, little flecks of spittle occasionally cartwheeling off his lip, he crooned his first line of the set: “I sold my soul for a bottle of Bushmills.” Meanwhile, Swagger rapidly strummed an acoustic guitar, like an Irish folk musician in fast-forward.