The title of Khaela Maricich's 12-year music project used to evoke her soft breath in your ear; for the second half of that timespan, it came to represent her need for a breather. As easy to behold as it is squeamish to be held, The Blow's 2006 LP Paper Television seemed primed for an unlikely breakout. Instead, it presaged a break: Beat-maker Jona Bechtolt (aka Yacht) jumped ship a year later, leaving Maricich and new partner Melissa Dyne to indulge their most outre art tendencies (i.e., spoken-word ramblings and an unreleased album supposedly composed for Lindsay Lohan). Not everyone followed. The Brooklyn duo's last performance in New Orleans, at One Eyed Jacks in July 2011, raised more eyebrows than arm hairs, and any expectations of a return to form were mostly wish-casting by the hopelessly devoted. Well, wish granted. Coming out of nowhere, 2013's eponymous release shows The Blow's lovestruck bruises haven't exactly healed: "I'm not as easy to woo as I once was/ Since I got jumped by the girl-of-the-month club," Maricich teases on "I Tell Myself Everything." "Invisible" is worth the price of admission alone, the strung-out heroine syncopating her despair around synthesized flutes and hit/rest percussion: "When you walked out, I lost control of my mouth/ And now it seems it's stuck in this ambiguous pout," she starts her most inviting sellout since snare-rolling tongue lashing "The Long List of Girls" ("I guess I'm on the long list of girls who love the shit out of you/ We know what not to expect, it's about what we'll get out of you"). Again, shedding insecurity ("And what about clothes, thought they invented those/ For the sole purpose of you taking them off") reveals only hidden strength. Self-consciousness rarely sounds so confident. Mariine, Very Primitive and DJ Yrs Truly open. Tickets $8 in advance, $10 day of show.