THURSDAY 3/30
THE GOURDS
(Tractor) Remember eight years ago when that foul-smelling fake hippie pulled you into his dorm room and made you listen to the new Phish rendering of "Gin and Juice" he just downloaded off Napster? If your mind wasn't quite as smoked as your stoner hallmate's, it was easy to tell it wasn't Trey Anastasio's voice whining through the speakers. In case you never found out, it was really the Gourds, a rollicking, slaphappy, honky-tonkin', fiddle-smokin', comic book of a band who are truly greater than that one fucking song that has planted them as a novelty band in the minds of so many an idiot. BENJAMIN BOSTICK
THE SUBWAYS, THE GUN SHYS, THE DIVORCE
(Crocodile) Grumps will harrumph and declare the Subways the usual next-big-forgotten-thing farce. I mean, sheez, they're British, they're really young, and there's a cute girl in the band. But dang if they don't bring big shoulder-swinging hooks, scraped vocals nowhere near as icky peppy as expected, and all the kid energy that is expected, plus some sweet strummers. Sure, they're lyrical/influence level runs about a Pop Rocks pack deep, but c'mon, they're young! They could be just another emo band, instead of this year's hope for those hep parents desperately sick of their daughter's Hawthorne Heights infatuation. ERIC DAVIDSON
SPEAKER SPEAKER , THE REPUTATION, SEEING BLIND, MS. LED
(El Corazón) Speaker Speaker won this year's Big Shot competition, and as the winner was announced that fateful night at Neumo's, the crowd went crazy. The whole room started screaming and clapping, agreeing that Speaker Speaker are one of the most beloved local young bands. J. Robbins (yes, the J. Robbins from Jawbox and Burning Airlines) thinks so, too, as he's agreed to produce the band's upcoming debut full-length later this spring. The Reputation (a Lookout! Records act from Chicago) are also playing tonight, and their female-fronted noisy pop will perfectly complement our local boys. MEGAN SELING
HELIOS CREED AND CHROME, MICO DE NOCHE, DEAD VAMPIRES
(Funhouse) Few bands in rock-and-roll's motley pantheon are as strange and unclassifiable as Chrome. Roaming the outer fringes between sci-fi-tinged art punk, rough-hewn garage, and brain-scorching psychedelia, these Bay Area freak jobs have amassed a huge catalog of damaged classics since they formed in 1977. Despite the passing of founder Damon Edge, Chrome continue under the cockeyed guidance of Helios Creed, whose solo albums (like X-Rated Fairy Tales) are far from shabby, as well. Your guess is as good as mine whether this hoary revision of Chrome is going to blow chunks or blow your mind, but it's well worth the gamble to go see for yourself. JOSHUA BLANCHARD
DEPT OF ENERGY, CAPILLARIES , VISIBLE MEN
(Comet) Dept of Energy is a local outfit featuring members of Dear John Letters and Ego Band USA. Their piano-heavy pop at times recalls Harvey Danger, but then they make their sound turn a little more vintage with a strong Beatles influence shining through, especially on "One Last Wish for Claire Grogan" from their self-titled EP on Roam Records. Overall, their music offers simple and clean pop, perfect for the warmer days. MEGAN SELING
BLACK EYES AND NECKTIES, SNITCHES GET STICHES, MADRASO
(High Dive) If someone held a gun to my head and demanded I offer up the name of Seattle's tightest, hardest-working, and most original punk band, I wouldn't hesitate to say "Snitches Get Stitches! Please don't shoot!" Really, I can't vouch for their work ethic, but in terms of sheer brawn and brain, they're the front-runners by a mile. Black Eyes and Neckties were justifiably beloved by former Stranger music editor Jennifer Maerz and Madraso are a highly promising angular punk outfit guaranteed to prick the ears of any Fugazi or Drive Like Jehu fan. HANNAH LEVIN
FRIDAY 3/31
EDITH FROST, THE ZINCS, THE TRANSMISSIONARY SIX
(Tractor) Tammy Wynette performed harrowing tearjerkers, but her ostensibly upbeat tunes were even more wrenching. During "Stand by Your Man," pain leaked through the cracks in her voice, like storm water seeping through holes in a sun-colored ceiling. Chamber-pop-informed country chanteuse Edith Frost achieves the same "when she's happy, she's really sad" effect while working with a self-abridged emotional spectrum. Her wistful, weather-sealed delivery doesn't differentiate between the minimalist dirge "My Lover Won't Call" and the twinkling diner-jukebox ballad "Lucky Charm" (back-to-back tracks on her most recent release, It's a Game), but the latter devastates because misguided romantic optimism feels more truly tragic than numb resignation. ANDREW MILLER
SATURDAY 4/1
THE DIRTBOMBS, BLACK LIPS, THE LAMPS
(Crocodile) When this show was announced nearly three months ago, I received a rather frantic call from a Dirtbombs fan asking me to confirm that this was a "real show." It seems that booking the welcome return of Detroit's vanguard garage kings on April Fools' Day was an inadvertent tease to the faithful. Rest assured, I have it on good authority that Mick Collins and company will be there in all their spit-shined glory and I'm willing to bet that it'll be a sellout. Frankly, anyone who isn't moved by Collins's blacktop-burning bravado or his gutsy, gory take on classic punk structures doesn't deserve to retain his/her hearing. Whether they are cranking out a clever cover (Yoko Ono, Soft Cell, ESG, Flipper, or Gun Club, perhaps?) or their patented, cartoon-inspired theme song, there isn't a wasted moment at a Dirtbombs show. HANNAH LEVIN
BLACK LIPS, THE DIRTBOMBS, THE LAMPS
(Crocodile) Black Lips' 2003 debut bled bent renderings of every gutter r'n'r riff with a sloppy ease that was impressive considering they were dopey 16-year-olds. Their half-bust follow-up and endless touring has proved these guys might be the seemingly insubordinate, secretly ambitious Replacements of their time. Their latest, Let It Bloom (In the Red), is some kind of sloughed-off classic, with Dumpster dive-bombs fulla screaming back-up vocals, glass-shattering stomps, New York Dolls nods, and '50s sock-hop send-ups. Black Lips are suddenly a "buzz" band—odd, since they still tend to pee in their own mouths during shows. ERIC DAVIDSON
THE DIRTBOMBS, BLACK LIPS, THE LAMPS
THE NUMBER 12 LOOKS LIKE YOU, MINUS THE BEAR, THURSDAY, WE'RE ALL BROKEN
(El Corazón) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.
THE ABODOX, AUDIO INFIDELS, GLORIOUS DAY, NIBBLETS W/MEMBERS OF SWARMING HORDES
(Sunset) That ex-members of Swarming Hordes are out playing again is cause for Seattle's metal enthusiasts to lose their shit in an irresponsible way. As the Hordes—who unfortunately disbanded after a lengthy, respectable light-speed trajectory well under the radar—these men dealt in some of the speediest, most technical instrumental metal known to mortal man. If you know what I'm talking about, you're already there; if not you should be anyway. GRANT BRISSEY
LADYBUG MECCA, MR. SUPREME
(Nectar) See My Philosophy, page 42.
AKIMBO, PLAYING ENEMY, VALLEY OF THE DINOSAURS
(Paradox) We first learned that Bremerton was a breeding ground for emerging talent when Kane Hodder jumped the pond a couple years ago (they're writing new material right now, by the way). Today, the peninsula town continues to supply Seattle's music community with killer and original bands, one of the latest being Valley of the Dinosaurs, who combine the ferocity of East Coast post-hardcore with a swagger of classic rock. Also, you're gonna wanna watch out for Bainbridge's crazy-intense hardcore band the Helen Killers. Kitsap is the new King County. MEGAN SELING See also preview at www.thestranger.com.
SUNDAY 4/2
CHRIS GARNEAU, THE DEAD SCIENCE, 2% MAJESTY, ALEC REDFEARN
(Gallery 1412) To the uninitiated, Brooklyn's Chris Garneau appears to be another sensitive singer-songwriter like one might find in a Midwest coffeehouse, but he inspires reverence and realness in his acolytes with the refreshing directness of his stripped-bare piano/bass torch songs. His lyrics—often extolling a drunken, romantic vagrancy—are delivered with an ultraexpressive voice, which ranges from pizzicato-like delicacy to the blast of a heartbroken cornet above the staff. Seattle's the Dead Science purvey their velvety, free-jazz-tinged conflagrations, complete with the melting baroque croon of lead singer Sam Mickens. For fans of cute-boy brilliance, Gallery 1412 will provide a fainting sofa. NICK SCHOLL
MONDAY 4/3
DEMIRICOUS, IF HOPE DIES, NODES OF RANVIER, STILL REMAINS
(El Corazón) The year of the thrash flashback is 2006, with Slayer, Kreator, and a reunited Anthrax spreading the shred disease. In the two decades since these bands issued their early works, groups have incorporated thrash riffs into hardcore breakdowns and rap beats, but influence hasn't translated into effective imitation. The thrash titans' relationship to modern metal is akin to Chuck Berry's connection with today's rock 'n' roll acts: Everyone's swiping something from him directly or indirectly, but no one's recording tracks that sound like "Maybelline." However, Demiricous's 2005 debut, One, sounds strikingly similar to Slayer's 1986 standard setter, Reign in Blood. As proudly derivative as "back-to-the-old-school" rap acts, Demiricous becomes the heir to the thrash throne, given that the genre's pioneers can't play that fast forever. ANDREW MILLER
TUESDAY 4/4
ELVIS COSTELLO COVER NIGHT W/MEMBERS OF TOURIST, THE DIVORCE, THE PALE PACIFIC, HARVEY DANGER, DAYLIGHT BASEMENT, TENNIS PRO, JEN WOOD, GHOST STORIES, CENTRAL SERVICES, THE CAPILLARIES, WHITE GOLD, THE HOPE, WALLPAPER, YOUNG SPORTSMEN
(Crocodile) I'm the last person who should ever write about Elvis Costello because, well, having only been listening to him for a couple years (I was a slow learner!), I have yet to form any valid "this record is better than this record, his solo stuff is stronger than his stuff with the Attractions" opinion. Really, I like it all far too much to critique any of it. But the bands playing tonight—Harvey Danger, Tourist, White Gold, and others—have no doubt studied the man's expansive catalog to the point of exhaustion in order to perform flawless versions of their favorite tunes. MEGAN SELING
EAGLES oF DEATH METAL, THE STROKES (Paramount) See preview, page 36.
WEDNESDAY 4/5
MON FRERE, PANTHER, THE GOSSIP
(Neumo's) Initially a solo spinoff by the Planet The frontman Charlie Salas-Humara, Panther has pounced into a life of its own, simultaneously flipping the finger to IDM purists, performance-art snobs, and anyone else who gets in his way. As any of Salas's victims—er, audience members—can attest, a live Panther appearance is a celebration of sweat, self-flagellation, and ridiculous modern-dance posturing. Salas and the folks at Fryk Beat Records (a new branch of the Audio Dregs/Collective Jyrk Family tree) just recently issued, Yourself, an exhilarating debut that neatly sums up the falsetto calisthenics and disco fuck-offs that have made Panther such a Portland cult favorite. JOSH BLANCHARD
FALL OUT BOY, ALL-AMERICAN REJECTS, HAWTHORNE HEIGHTS, FROM FIRST TO LAST, THE HUSH SOUND: Sat April 8, Tacoma Dome
VENDETTA RED, THE DIVORCE, KANE HODDER: Sat April 8, El Corazón
QUEEN FEATURING PAUL RODGERS: Mon April 10, KeyArena
THE WARRIORS, KITTIE, EVERGREEN TERRACE: Fri April 14, Studio Seven
QUASI, THE CAN'T SEE: Sat April 15, Neumo's
MATES OF STATE: Thurs April 20, Neumo's
PAINT IT BLACK, THE LOVED ONES, SHOOK ONES, SINKING SHIPS: Sat April 22, the Paradox
PINBACK, THE JADE SHADER: Sun April 23, Showbox
HARD FI, THE RAKES, GUESTS: Mon April 24, Chop Suey
YEAH YEAH YEAHS: Tues April 25, Paramount
SIGUR RÓS: Wed May 3, Benaroya Hall
TV ON THE RADIO, CELEBRATION: Fri May 5, Showbox
SICK OF IT ALL, STRETCH ARM STRONG, GUESTS: Tues May 23, El Corazón
MOGWAI: Tues May 23, Showbox
MINISTRY, REVOLTING COCKS, SPYDER BABY: Sun May 28, Showbox
