THURSDAY 9/22

DECIBEL FESTIVAL
(Various venues) See preview, page 34 and Data Breaker, page 52.

NO DEPRESSION 10-YEAR ANNIVERSARY KICK-OFF PARTY: PETER CASE, CHRISTY McWILSON
(Sunset) See preview, page 39.

ASHLEE SIMPSON, BAREFOOT
(Showbox) See Underage, page 55.

JEFF HANSON, PALISADES, JOHANNA KUNIN, DJ TEAM MODELO
(Cafe Venus) Elliott Smith has left an indelible mark on numerous musicians—from Earlimart to your average indie singer-songwriter. Jeff Hanson may hail from the Midwest, but his soft falsetto and the intimate acoustics on his solo records have an eerie resemblance to the late Northwest idol. If you appreciated the featherweight touch to Smith's earlier recordings, Hanson's heart-in-a-sling approach similarly matches bittersweet sentiments with delicately buoyant melodies. JENNIFER MAERZ

ARCHITECTURE IN HELSINKI, DR. DOG, NEW BUFFALO
(Neumo's) The sweeteningly gleeful sound of Architecture in Helsinki seems to spill out of speakers with layers of overdubs, an epic twee-mo orchestra composed of spare parts. Setting sights upon the up-to-eight-piece Melbourne group only makes matters more confusing; they somehow pull off this orchestration in a live setting, festively swapping tubas, glockenspiels, and samplers like they're passing around a yearbook. With two albums out on Bar None, the most recent being In Case We Die, the addictive brio and excess of AIH makes a case for resuscitating indie pop, breeding out of its foppishness with sturdier hybrid sounds. GEORGE CHEN

FRIDAY 9/23

DECIBEL FESTIVAL
(Various venues) See preview, page 34, Data Breaker, page 52, and Stranger Suggests, page 25.

NINE INCH NAILS, QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE, AUTOLUX
(KeyArena) See preview, page 37.

INTELLIGENCE, TYRADES, THE SWIMMERS
(Funhouse) Boredom and Terror established the Intelligence as Seattle's masters of concise, lo-fi songs that pop with surprisingly catchy melodies (think the Fall, Swell Maps, Lemon Kittens). Led by A-Frames drummer Lars Finberg, the band return with Icky Baby (In the Red), a robust enhancement of their gut-punching, ramshackle art punk with choruses you want to shout till your lungs burst. Icky Baby runs 25 minutes, but its 13 tracks pack more eye-bulging excitement than most albums triple the length. Said it before, will say it again: The Intelligence are Seattle's finest rock band. DAVE SEGAL

PORTASTATIC, TWO GALLANTS, HOLY GHOST REVIVAL, THE ROSEBUDS
(Crocodile) According to the rock glossies, all Saddle Creek signees must be sad. They must have melancholy and unwashed hair, bruised hearts, and perhaps a few wrist scars. As it can be hard to enjoy such things when you're not a teenager, we must thank our lucky stars for newbie labelmates Two Gallants. The San Francisco duo (named after a James Joyce story) know pain, but also rage. Adam Stephenson (vox/guitar) and Tyson Vogel (drums) play hard, bluesy dirges to fractured love; cover Reverend Robert Wilkins; and write lyrical poems to women with shoefulls of crack. MAIREAD CASE

SATURDAY 9/24

DECIBEL FESTIVAL
(Various venues) See preview, page 34 and Data Breaker, page 52.

FREMONT OKTOBERFEST: HARVEY DANGER, THE DIVORCE, THE COPS, PALE PACIFIC, THE SATURDAY KNIGHTS, AND MANY MORE
(Downtown Fremont) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.

THE NEW PORNOGRAPHERS, DESTROYER, IMMACULATE MACHINE
(Showbox) See preview, page 43.

RICHMOND FONTAINE, NORFOLK & WESTERN, MIKE COYKENDALL
(Sunset Tavern) If Howe Gelb of Giant Sand recorded a cockeyed version of Springsteen's much-lauded Nebraska, it might come close to Richmond Fontaine's The Fitzgerald. The Portland, Oregon, quartet has delivered its quietest album to date, but it resonates long after the songs finish. Frontman Willy Vlautin's characters suggest short stories by Raymond Carver and scenes from Sam Shepard plays, but it's his craggy delivery that makes the lyrics so haunting. Fitzgerald's songs are all set at a Reno casino/hotel haunted by drifters, con men, and drunks. As the background to their stories, Fontaine shifts form, forgoing previous alt-country flourishes for a stripped-bare aesthetic. The folksier musical accompaniment suits the material—beautiful, broken, and intimate. NATE LIPPENS

PYRAMID WEIZENFEST 2005: EDDIE SPAGHETTI, THE THING ABOUT THAT, JEFF FIELDER
(Pyramid Alehouse) One of this city's most promising artists may fly below the mainstream radar, but he's already earned the respect of his peers in a big way. Jeff Fielder is the kind of guitar player that other musicians love to love—he's wickedly talented from a practical standpoint, but he also exhibits the glee and enthusiasm of a 16-year-old kid who's just discovered the joys of rock. After stints with the Radio Nationals and a handful of other local rock and Americana outfits, he's completed a solo record (no firm release date has been set) that will undoubtedly bring his gifts to a much wider audience. HANNAH LEVIN

ERASE ERRATA, THE LIGHTS, SICK BEES
(Crocodile) When I first heard about "boots pants," I thought it was yet another horrible fashion trend. In actuality, boots pants is a dance drum beat, with the boots being a bass-drum hit followed immediately by a hi-hat hit, and the pants a snare-drum hit immediately followed by a hi-hat hit. Say it to yourself—it makes sense. Bianca Sparta of Erase Errata rocks the boots pants like none other. When locked in with bassist Ellie Erickson, it makes you forget Doc Marten and Levi Strauss ever existed. The Lights aren't known for boots pants, but that doesn't mean they can't learn. BEN BLACKWELL

MADNESS
(Fenix Underground) On the opening track of Bradford Marsalis's hiphop/jazz album, Buckshot LeFonque (1994), "Ladies & Gentlemen, Presenting...," DJ Premier cuts up the title track of Madness's masterpiece One Step Beyond (1979). The Madness song is arguably the anthem for the first wave of British ska, launched in the late '70s. Twenty-five years (and several hit tunes) later, Madness are still alive, apparently have the same lineup, and open all of their shows with the brassy, bulky, and bombastic "One Step Beyond." CHARLES MUDEDE

NUCLEAR ASSAULT, THE BRAINDEAD, BLACK GOAT, GLOBAL GENOCIDE, NO ONE LIVES
(Studio Seven) Like real-life fears about a bomb-fueled apocalypse, Nuclear Assault sat out the '90s before resurging recently. In 1985, former Anthrax members Danny Lilker and John Connelly fused their erstwhile group's thrash attack with New York hardcore. While not as politically incorrect as Lilker's other project, S.O.D., early-era Nuclear Assault had its incendiary moments, most notably "Hang the Pope." Nuclear Assault's Third World Genocide, released last month, proves the group's sense of humor remains as sharp as their speed-metal chops: The album devotes its final three tracks to a Johnny Cash cover, a goofily profane bluegrass tune, and an esoteric Celtic Frost parody. ANDREW MILLER

PETRACOVICH, ROBERT DEEBLE, DANIEL G. HARMANN
(Cafe Venus) From the first tentative notes of Debussy's "Clair de Lune" on into a shadowy curtain of toy xylophone tinkles, airy whistles, and baby gurgles, it's easy to picture San Francisco's Petracovich (née Jessica Peters) as the good piano student gone awry. On her new CD, We Are Wyoming, harmonium swoops down like a wayward flying saucer creaking and jangling, and the birdsong field recordings enter the picture when you least expect them, as on a sweet ditty like "Pecadillos." Folktronica is an easy out of a description—Peters eschews any of the self-conscious gimmickry and lyrical kookiness of, say, Momus, and instead sounds as earnestly angelic and bent as Lynch balladeer Julee Cruise or the gentle experimentalists of Lali Puna. KIMBERLY CHUN

SUNDAY 9/25

DECIBEL FESTIVAL
(Various venues) See preview, page 34 and Data Breaker, page 52.

DUNCAN SHEIK, DAVID POE, REED
(Chop Suey) See Border Radio, page 47.

FELICIA V. LOUD, LAURA "PIECE" KELLEY, PHYRE
(CHAC Lower Level) Whenever the forces of Felicia V. Loud, Silent Lamb Project, and Dred I connect, politics flows right along with the music. This close association of black rappers, poets, and singers is now producing Soul Sistah Sundays, which for its opening night will couple the art of soul music with the politics of black activist (and fugitive) Assata Shakur. The sistahs doing their thing at the Lower Level tonight will be Loud, Laura "Piece" Kelley, and Phiyah. The revolution will not be televised. CHARLES MUDEDE

MONDAY 9/26

LESS THAN JAKE, THE MATCHES, KANE HODDER
(El CorazĂłn) In nearly every conversation with music snobs, they'll always, always, always scoff at the suggestion that Less Than Jake is a good band. "They're ska!" they'll cry. "They play generic teenage anthems and have lyrics about mustaches!" "Ew!" Well fuck the snobs, because LTJ have remained consistent over the years, sticking with a strong songwriting structure that manages to encapsulate immature (though global) emotions with an undeniable level of rock and sing-alongability (uh, yeah, it's a word). Plus, their live shows are fun as hell, often involving costumes and confetti. No one's too cool for confetti! The Matches, however, are a band you can scoff at. MEGAN SELING

JOHN WILKES BOOZE, SLIM MOON AND WHAT ARMY, TWINK THE WONDER KID
(Funhouse) Bloomington, Indiana, art-punk sextet John Wilkes Booze is the genuinely unnerving cult-cum-rock-band that Brian Jonestown Massacre can only wish they were. On their third full-length, Telescopic Eyes Glance the Future Sick, vocalist Seth Mahern whines and wails like the bastard offspring of Pere Ubu's David Thomas and some aging blues journeyman—if said pup was raised in a locked closet, while Fun House blared in the next room. His bandmates hammer out whiplash-inducing riffs that repeat, ad infinitum, like a skipping Thin Lizzy LP. For the sake of variety (or is it ADD?), there are also outbursts of dub and quasi-religious chanting. If ever a group were concealing nefarious subliminal messages beneath its record grooves, JWB is it. KURT B. REIGHLEY

SILVERSUN PICKUPS
(Sonic Boom Records, Ballard) On the corner of Silver Lake Boulevard and Sunset Boulevard in Silver Lake, California (AKA Williamsburg West), Silversun Liquor have kept resident hipsters soused during the 'hood's recent stint in the spotlight. Cribbing its name from that locale, the fuzzed-out, My Bloody Valentine–inspired Silversun Pickups have been selling out shows and garnering steady buzz since a hastily recorded demo accidentally got 'em into CMJ. Like the liquor store, SSPU are at a crossroads: next-big-thing Hollywood stardom in one direction, perpetually under-the-radar hipster adoration in the other. Time will tell if SSPU's debut EP, Pikul, has what it takes to break them out; in the meantime, the band's live shows are keeping fans of Earlimart and Gish-era Smashing Pumpkins entertained. MAYA KROTH

GREEN DAY, JIMMY EAT WORLD
(Tacoma Dome) Few things please me more than being blindsided by a band that I previously dismissed. With the exception of a handful of mildly catchy singles, Green Day appeared to have nothing to offer besides benign punk-by-numbers and the shame of their "Exiled on Gilman Street" status. When they released their punk-rock opera American Idiot last year, they erased all of my doubts and established themselves as the most articulate and fearless anti-war voice in the music community. If you've ever given a rat's ass about the Clash or Fugazi, you have a moral obligation to give Green Day a second listen. HANNAH LEVIN

TUESDAY 9/27

ACID MOTHERS TEMPLE, THE OCCASION, SEAN
(Neumo's) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.

THE NOTWIST & THEMSELVES (PERFORMING AS 13 & GOD), BOY IN STATIC
(Chop Suey) 13 & God is a collaboration between two trios: Germany's the Notwist and Californians Themselves. Together these half-dozen musicians combine sugar and spice and everything they do nice, and while the result is not half-baked, it's still more applesauce than apple pie. 13 & God blend crepuscular laptop pirouettes atop chunky beats. From the music to the lyrics their eponymous debut sprawls across the underlying theme of defining space, subsequently maintaining a touch too much of each group's characteristic headspace but without enough of either's triumph or bluster. While certain premises—drowsy narratives with plucked (heart)strings and scuffed piano hooks—resonate throughout, the general impression is there is one Notwist slice for every Themselves dice. And while the more Notwist-seeming compositions ring most sonorous, overall the tracks feel like singular half-strokes from blunted folks. TONY WARE

SAMEER SHUKLA, CHRIS STAPLES, MATTHEW SHAW
(Crocodile) Tonight marks the record debut of local singer-songwriter Sameer Shukla. His pals in Dolour and United State of Electronica helped produce and arrange the disc, There's Only One Side Tonight, which falls somewhere between the Thrills' California seaside pop and Americana-clad rock, with the vocals occasionally touching Greg Dulli territory. It's a bit scattered, but Shukla shows promise as a future local pop fixture. JENNIFER MAERZ

WEDNESDAY 9/28

SIGUR RĂ“S, AMINA
(Paramount) See preview, page 40 and Stranger Suggests, page 25.

EVERY TIME I DIE, HIGH ON FIRE, THE RED CHORD, THE ESOTERIC
(El Corazón) Ostensibly a hardcore band—an impression reinforced by their standard four-word, mortality-referencing moniker—Every Time I Die incorporates southern metal's rhythmic grooves and garage rock's cocky swagger. Most modern hardcore tunes operate in strict compliance with a two-breakdown minimum, and Every Time I Die serves plenty. However, their breakdowns are so slow and the songs surrounding them are so manic (with all instruments racing, not just the drums) that the contrast toys with time. The results resemble a playful Pantera, or Refused with clever wordplay ("We've applied mascara to the radio/But that's just a quick fix") replacing revolutionary rhetoric. ANDREW MILLER