From the Jul 1 – Jul 7, 2004 issue

Music

Up & Coming

THURSDAY 7/1


ARGO
(Crocodile) Be the first on your block to check out this fine new Seattle band, which makes pop music that is both smart and dumb in all the right ways. Liberal vintage keyboard sounds sit smartly alongside the indie rock textures, until DAMN! Hooks galore. Their self-released album, Jet Packs for Everyone, was recorded by Jon Auer in a practice space in South Seattle, and, not surprisingly, sounds really good. SEAN NELSON

AL GREEN
(Paramount) With such career entertainers as soul man Al Green, fans usually have their favorite album/era. Mine is 1972's I'm Still in Love with You, where "I'm Glad You're Mine" is a sort of goofily rhythmic ode to romance, and the rest of the record similarly bakes in love's warm glow. From the title track through "Love and Happiness," hopeless romantics can find their soundtrack in Green's sweet falsetto. Of course, this album came out before Green gave himself over to the man above as a reverend in 1974 after a girlfriend burned him with boiling grits and then killed herself. (A couple years later, he seriously injured himself in a fall off a stage.) Green's since turned his style into a gospel/R&B hybrid, but I'm stuck back in time with his early '70s classic appreciation for more earthbound, age-old amour. JENNIFER MAERZ

PHOENIX FESTIVAL
(Columbia River Gorge campsite) A gathering of the tribes in a beautiful, remote corner of Oregon, Phoenix Festival covers many electronic-music bases on five stages. If you're the camping kind, you can experience sets by, among many others, hiphop worthies Blackalicious, the Coup, Supersoul; breaks and jungle from Tipper, Dara, Hive; downtempo, ambient, and IDM from Nordic Soul, Mr. Projectile, Instrumental Ward; and our pick to clique, the Rhythm Circuit stage with techno and house sets by Jeff Samuel, Lusine, Bruno Pronsato, and Jacob London. See www.phoenixfest.com for more info. DAVE SEGAL

FRIDAY 7/2


MúM, CALEXICO, WHY? & MISS OHIO'S
(Showbox) See preview, page 42.

GRAYLIFE: TYCO PARTY, MUG FROSTY, & AMS
(Capitol Hill Arts Center) See Stranger Suggests, page 25, and Some Candy Talking, page 74.

ULTRA DOLPHINS, SNACK TRUCK, Greyskull, bird shaped holes in the sky
(2nd Avenue Pizza) For fans of sci-fi noodling from acts like the Locust, the Dillinger Escape Plan, and Teen Cthulhu, check out Philadelphia's Snack Truck, whose eerie, entertaining, post-hardcore madness sounds calculated from the dark side of math rock, with odd timings, Muppet-tantrum vocals, and breakdowns that sound like the interworkings of a supercomputer come to life. They're touring with Ultra Dolphin, whose complementary aesthetic is similarly rabid, only more attuned to aspects of At the Drive-In than outer-space spasms. Both are talented-sounding acts I highly recommend checking out live. JENNIFER MAERZ

DEMOLITION DOLL RODS, THE GET HUSTLE, THE GLORYHOLES
(Sunset) It's easy to dismiss Detroit's Demolition Doll Rods as a novelty act. Fumbling out something like the Cramps played by porn-flick extras on cough syrup, they hit the stage wearing near nothing besides sequined undies stained in all the wrong places. The ex-stripper guitarist cranks out fuzzed-up power chords, while the drummer--all huge eyes and goofy grin that never wavers--stands behind one floor tom pounding away indiscriminately. The other guitarist can actually pluck some wild leads, plus he's the best-looking girl of the bunch. Okay, so they are a novelty act. But the fact they've been doing this for 10 years, to not exactly exponentially increasing audiences, and always with a smile and a full-hour set offered, proves this all means something damn important to them. To you, it'll be one of the creepiest, funniest acts you'll see this week. ERIC DAVIDSON

QUASI NADA, BEEHIVE, SUNTZU SOUND DJs AC LEWIS AND J-JUSTICE
(Chop Suey) Seattle octet Quasi Nada trades in feel-good world music with passport stamps from Brazil, Cuba, various African nations, y los barrios de Nueva York. You could think of them as the Northwestern Ozomatli. They pull off these varied hot-nation styles with passion and rhythmic verve. While their recent album Interrupt This Broadcast ain't my bag (I'm way too morose to handle this much uplift), Quasi Nada should appeal to lovers of polyrhythmically festive world music. DAVE SEGAL

SATURDAY 7/3


DKT/MC5 REUNION TOUR FEATURING MARK ARM, EVAN DANDO
(Neumo's) See preview, page 33.

FELIX DA HOUSECAT, DOUG, RECESS
(Chop Suey) See Data Breaker, page 33.

FELIX DA HOUSECAT AFTER-PARTY
(Oseao Gallery of the Senses) Purveyors of electronic deviance from the Alibi Room's Shameless night--DJs Justin Byrnes, Derek Fisher, the perfect cyn, and Recess--promise to maintain the party-rousing boompity-boomp generated by Felix at the lovely space catty-corner from Chop Suey. Somebody more famous may drop in and spin, too. DAVE SEGAL

THE MINDS, MOD LASER, SHELLSHOCKED
(Hideaway) Portland's the Minds fit well on the Dirtnap label, as their pop punktronica falls somewhere between the Epoxies' new-wave style and the Spits' old-school anthems. Mixing power pop with keyboard freakouts, the band is an energetic bunch who've already gained a good little following in our neighbor city to the south. JENNIFER MAERZ

XXX AUDIO, THE PROTOCOL, THE MARCH LIONS
(Crocodile) Never try to Google the band "XXX Audio"--need I explain why? But definitely seek them out, as this local four-piece offers something nearly pornographic in their raucous, garage-rock sound. Note the vulnerable qualities of their latest effort, The Wreckage and Reclamation E.P. , a starkly produced release heaving with raw bass lines, tantalizing guitar licks, and Denise Maupin's naked, frank vocals. On the standout track, "Measure of Regret," the repetitive thrusts of the vocals and supporting strings make the song pulse like porn, pleasure mingled with pain and perversion into something sinister and evocative. It's a nasty little number, and it's hot. So are they. DANA BOS

CLUTCH
(Graceland) The first time I saw Clutch, back in 1993, I adored their heavy take on pop. The fact that the show was in a garage with my beloved long-defunct band Tad also on the bill made it a rocking night in a strange but exciting setting. And the song paying tribute to the greatest car ever, the Dart Swinger, had my heart swooning because I owned a '68 at that time. Now, all I can say is that the love is dead, and I really don't recognize anything in their music that I can try to rekindle it with. And what's with all the funk and cheesy riffs? At least singer Neil Fallon is a guy who can still give popular culture a good skewering. But I'll leave this night to the dudes sure to pack the house no matter what. KATHLEEN WILSON

JONNY LANG, KEB' MO'
(Pier 62/63) Few contemporary axmen can match Jonny Lang's skill at crafting sizzling solos, and even fewer share his penchant for blue-eyed soul bellows. But no one in any genre can top Lang's ability to make guitar-playing look like the most vile of tortures. During each concert, Lang musters an expression that screams, "Bloody hell, I just lost my hand to the hedge clippers," even as his digits nimbly operate the strings. It's hard to discern the source of Lang's ostentatious angst, as he's been a successful musician since age 16. Fortunately, he doesn't resort to a far-fetched lyrical backstory, as dramatized in Ghost World when an all-white group moaned about "picking cotton all day." But Lang's recent leanings toward polished boogie rock have alienated longtime followers. If he unveils too many tunes from 2003's Long Time Coming at this show, fans might even outscowl their wayward hero. ANDREW MILLER

CITIZENS FOR BOISENBERRY JAM
(ToST, early) Pending the results of the imminent, oft-delayed debate between myself and Stranger News Editor Josh Feit concerning which Simon and Garfunkel LP is better (Feit says Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme; I'm a Bridge over Troubled Water man), Seattle can satisfy its S&G longings with this two-man tribute band, featuring multi-instrumentalists Kent Halvorsen and Tyler Vega. Word is they know upwards of 40 tunes, with a focus on the early-middle-period works favored by my honorable adversary, Feit. If they can pull off the harmonies on "Blessed," or any of "7 O'Clock News/Silent Night," it's gonna be raw. SEAN NELSON

SUNDAY 7/4
It's all fun and games until someone blows off a middle finger.

MONDAY 7/5


THE RED LIGHT STING, GERLING, DALMATIONS, THE SMOOTH PURSUIT
(Graceland) Tonight's lineup offers a small sampling of the dance-punk spectrum: On one end, you have Dalmatians, a raw, rough 'n' tumble three-piece who sound like their instruments are barely held together with duct tape as they bludgeon them to their demise. They have the uncontrollable energy of garage punk but the sound of a DIY disco act burning down the house. At the other end is Australia's Gerling, a band so slick you could fix your lipstick in its stylized reflection. They mostly recorded and produced their first U.S. release, Badblood!!, in their own studio, and it's an amazingly catchy dance-punk thrill for fans of Bumblebeez 81, the Rapture, and Radio 4. JENNIFER MAERZ

TUESDAY 7/6


A. C. NEWMAN, THE HONORARY TITLE, THE NEINS
(Neumo's) See preview, page 40, and Stranger Suggests, page 25.

SUPREME BEINGS OF LEISURE, FCS NORTH
(Chop Suey) Seattle trio FCS North has a new split EP with Sientific American (fcssa) on a new imprint (Mass Mvmnt). On this disc's four tracks, they sound like a groove-savvy post-rock group giving broken-beat house a rejuvenating organic jolt. These guys got on my case for comparing them to Tortoise, and, damn it, there's nothing at all Tortoise-like going on here. FCS North want to move crowds, not soundtrack chin-scratching. Their new direction is vibrant and rhythmically extroverted. Supreme Beings of Leisure (vocalist Geri Soriano-Lightwood and producer Ramin Sakurai) peddle facile lounge funk, tropical triphop, and breezy drum 'n' bass and have soundtracked many a hair-styling and clothing purchase. Imagine a more world-music-tinged Morcheeba or Moloko, and then forget about it. Tonight they'll be playing a DJ set with live vocals. DAVE SEGAL

THE SOVIETTES, MS. LED, MEA CULPA
(Studio Seven) Minneapolis power-pop punks the Soviettes are a very bouncy band. The female harmonies spark and soar, the guitar riffs sound soaked in the same sugary sweetness, and their pace is set at a Red Bull run. The band has released various albums on Adeline Records and has a song on the Rock Against Bush Vol 1 comp on Fat Wreck Chords--so their political affiliations should go nicely with catchy lefty punks Mea Culpa. JENNIFER MAERZ

WEDNESDAY 7/7


JEM
(Crocodile) Welsh singer Jem Griffiths (or just "Jem," as she prefers) is a burgeoning smoothtronica star, a singer who makes contemporary adult alternative music as vanilla as a cream soda--and just as appealing for mainstream consumption. Her dreamy, breezy style recalls both Beth Orton and Dido, appeasing the easy-listening electronica fan with her loops of bedroom melodies and blandly soothing croon. JENNIFER MAERZ

NO-FI SOUL REBELLION, THE MINES, YEEK YAK AIRFORCE, MODERNSTATE
(Chop Suey) Consider this either a warning or a ringing endorsement, depending on your disposition. An evening with No-Fi Soul Rebellion will bring you closer to your fellow man than you may have counted on. This Bellingham karaoke duo is the proud parent of a populist gospel-disco-rock that's more concerned with the soul than the booty, although the flesh gets plenty of stimulation. While the lovely Andrea Heimer controls the sounds from the stage (via a contraption dubbed the "Soul System"), her husband and frontman, Mark, crashes through the fourth wall and into the crowd, dragging folks from their chairs to join their brethren on the floor. Like an Up with People version of G. G. Allin, Heimer can magically transform scowling, misanthropic hipsters into grinning, gregarious squares with a single sweaty hug. No-Fi's playful, irresistible funk forces good vibes on the audience against their will, and no one leaves a stranger. FRED BELDIN

THE RICHARD THOMPSON BAND, JACKIE GREENE
(Showbox) Here's the thing: Richard Thompson has been responsible for some great songs in the past 30 years, both as a solo artist and as a member of folkadelic Fairport Convention all those years ago. Talent and occasional brilliance notwithstanding, Thompson's live act could use a dab of modernization. He's a masterful player and a fine singer. His moves, however--to say nothing of his attire (leather pants AND a beret?)--owe a debt to a bygone age. I'm not trying to be superficial, but sometimes the show gets in the way of the show, you know? SEAN NELSON

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