’ll admit I’m new to Dr. Dog. Hell, the first thing from them to which I even gave the time of day was Shame, Shame the Philly-bred unit’s LP from earlier this year. You could say I’m late to the party—its Dr. Dog's sixth album since forming in 1999—but I’m a strong believer that music chooses you. Yeah, marketing has something to do with it, but you still have to be in the right place (and the right frame of mind) at the right time.

After giving Shame, Shame another spin a few weeks back, I went for a second take, and then a third. By the time the band’s Paradise shows came around last week, I hadn’t even had chance to spend time with the rest of the catalog. The album has so much for the ear and the mind, from Abbey Road guitars that hit like you’re at a wind-swept carnival, on acid, to stoop-cat Band stompers, to ‘90s sweater-around-the waist pop. Swirling three-part harmonies shape sentiments into anthems, while seemingly honest lullabies (the ones you can only sing if you’ve wronged somebody and feel like making amends) soften the mood. The line between love and insanity, a desperate balance, is tough to define. Dr. Dog crafts it into a palatable sound.

As expected, Shame Shame was given heavy treatment throughout the second of two sold-out shows at the Paradise. “Mirror Mirror,” kicked things off, with clawing guitars, a witty lead vocal crafted from an intelligent mind (a similar m.o. to the Decemberists), and an obvious ode to the Beatles (they’re everywhere) with a liquid passage that brings up bits of “Blue Jay Way.” Songs from the album usually came in blocks. The trio of “Shame, Shame,” “Jackie Wants a Black Eye,” and “Stranger,” brought the main set to a close, and was the best testament to the album’s elasticity through different eras of music.

But it wasn’t all about Shame, Shame —song or album. Dr. Dog played 25 songs. While opener Deer Tick hemmed its set together with nervous banter in between serious rock songs, the headliner was smash and grab the whole way, leaving no dead air between selections from all corners of the catalog—an impressive feat considering two minds, Scott McMicken and Toby Leaman, share lead vocal duties. The two don’t venture far from each other. Bassist Leaman draws on influences similar to those of Kings of Leon’s Caleb Followill, but avoids rock-star ambiguity in lieu of being the everyman, while guitarist McMicken complements him as a Neil Young disciple strung out on '90s indie pop. Songs from 2008’s Fate mixed well with the fresh material, dancing on a line between serious reflection (“The Beach,” “The Breeze”) and playful jab (“The Old Days”).

I walked into the Paradise knowing an album’s worth of material, and walked out with a guide to the band’s deep catalog, handpicked by the band itself. A great deal, but now it’s time to do some homework.

Pearl Jam at the TD Banknorth Garden (Monday, May 17)

The era of the rock star is dying, but Pearl Jam still has life. The last grunge band standing roams the impersonal basketball and hockey arenas of the world with a reverence for the long haul. They haven’t lost touch with the people who matter: the fans. (I’ve never seen more band T-shirts at one show.) You could say that any band aims to please, but Pearl Jam does it with more sincerity and humility than anyone who’s still playing to audiences that outnumber the populations of most towns. I had my doubts. Steep ticket prices ($90 online, plus fees) for a band that in the ’90s fought Ticketmaster in front of the Supreme Court seem hypocritical. The band even appeared in a Target commercial last year to promote its latest release, Backspacer. But with no light show, LED screens, or glamorous production, Pearl Jam is one of the few bands of its size that rely on one thing and one thing only: the music. Radio spoiled hits “Alive,” “Even Flow,” and “Better Man” were given fresh legs (the latter featured a tribute to the English Beat with bits of “Save it For Later”), while deep cuts like “Push Me, Pull Me,” “Crown of Thorns” (played for the first time in Boston), and “Undone” (a tribute to the late Howard Zinn), proved the band can dust off anything and get away with it. “Crown of Thorns,” a Mother Love Bone song that Pearl Jam members Jeff Ament (bass) and Stone Gossard (guitar) played on in the late ‘80s, was the greatest treat in a night full of great treats. “Twenty-seven shows in Massachusetts and I don’t think we’ve played this one,” Eddie Vedder said.

Pearl Jam’s only misstep was its last move, a cover of Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” a dead horse that’s been beaten to death by too many bands who have the talent to dig deeper (the Drive-By Truckers closed their April House of Blues show with the same song). Roadies already had an acoustic waiting for Gossard and lead guitarist Mike McCready’s vintage Strat tuned and ready, which would be the ammunition needed to play “Yellow Ledbetter,” Pearl Jam’s definitive feel-good closer. But after the obligatory late-show scorcher “Alive,” Vedder motioned to the rest of the band to keep the mood up. “Rockin’ in the Free World,” was the result. A crowd pleaser, yes, but Pearl Jam obviously has enough in the tank to end a night with its own material.

Nate Wilson Group at the Lizard Lounge (Thursday, May 20)

"It's nice to be here on an impromptu Thursday night," Nate Wilson said to a thirsty Lizard Lounge crowd. The band is already set to burn on Thursdays in June at the basement club, but still managed to sneak in a teaser gig. Even though the show wasn't booked till Sunday, word spread quickly and a healthy crowd turned up.

Nate Wilson Group’s sound is as hot as it gets. Adam Terrell and Johnny Trama work out every muscle on their guitars while Wilson's vocals drip with a bout of classic rock righteousness born out of living loud. Expect a breakout season and a maybe even a new LP from these guys. There’ll be plenty of Black Crowes refugees by years end, too. Nate Wilson Group has the sound to give them a new home.