Lodged quietly between the dozen or so name-brand indie acts and the hundreds that will never see the business end of a New York City stage again is an easily overlooked group of cusp bands. They are whispered about over record store counters and quietly praised on the most discriminating blogs, but otherwise unknown — until a month or two from now, anyway. Here are a few bands that fit the category, more or less. Check them out, but don’t talk them up: At CMJ, loose lips fill clubs — maybe before you get in.

With the right marketing behind him, Luke Temple could be the Jack Johnson of indie rock. His 2005 debut, “Hold a Match for a Gasoline World,” mixed lovely acoustic numbers with lushly orchestrated, lightly carnivalesque ones. On “Radiation Blues” he sounded like an upbeat, Bends-era Thom Yorke. Based on the MySpace evidence, he’s taking his craft in a less mainstream direction (think Tom Waits meets Karen Dalton), which should make for a fascinating live set Thursday at Northsix.

Self-consciousness doesn’t mix with prog rock. Fortunately, Danish band Mew (playing a prime time 11 p.m. slot at Bowery Ballroom on Friday) seems to lack it entirely. They’re totally unabashed, playing tensile songs that are rarely tedious, and managing to cover the entire epic range of kindred spirits Sigur Ros. (Jonas Berre’s gossamer falsetto is a pleasant substitute for Jonsi’s liquid-metal one.)

Vice up-and-comers Justice (pronounce “eustice”; they’re French) are an abrasive DJ duo who perform arty electro-pop with lots of blunt edges and nonsensical vocal tit for tat. Look for them Sunday at Brooklyn’s Studio B.

One of the stumbling blocks to a successful CMJ is moving around too much. You can easily spend more time traveling between shows and waiting outside them than actually seeing bands. Fortunately, the Mercury Lounge offers a good opportunity for bulk verge-band viewing on Thursday night.

Twee Swedes Nicole Atkins and the Sea kick it off at 8 p.m. They play slightly campy, off-key tunes reminiscent of David Byrne, complete with faux-theatrical delivery and popping, marimba-like percussion. French Canadians Malajube, taking the stage at 9 p.m., are a good bet as the next Montreal band to make it. Their headlong songs have the same propulsive energy as Arcade Fire or Wolf Parade, and are similarly difficult to categorize (which, of course, has become a category in itself).

Benjy Ferree, recently added to the Domino roster, creates a new genre altogether: Call it freak pop. His melodies are lilting and vaguely Elliot Smith-esque, but totally untamed in a way that calls to mind Devendra Banhart and company. The night peaks at 10 p.m. with Archie Bronson Outfit, who released their excellent second album,”Derdang Derdang,” earlier this year. They’re a janglier, male-fronted version of fellow Domino-ers the Kills in that they draw inspiration from the same 1960s-era blues punk (even aping the squelchy saxophone from Iggy Pop’s “Fun House”). But they manage to lace the music with a clangorous danger that is lacking in American counterparts like the Black Keys.