EVAN DANDO, GRAIG MARKEL
(Crocodile) Because he was photographed holding daisies at the height of his popularity, and was reported to be living the hippie-dippie life of a flower-child/junkie, no self-respecting hipster can publicly announce a fondness for Evan Dando or his Lemonheads without relegating them to the "guilty pleasure" pasture. Whatever. Occasionally you'll get an indier-than-thou admission that Lick or Hate Your Friends were good records, but then a gassy qualifier always follows, noting that nothing recorded after the band signed to Atlantic back in the early '90s was anything short of crap (except for, maybe, label debut, Lovey). Again, whatever. It's a Shame about Ray was a perfectly fine album and boasted "Rudderless," one of the most hummable pop songs of 1992. Its sprawling follow-up, Come on Feel the Lemonheads, said as much about Dando's newfound popularity as it did about his history-lesson approach to songwriting. Truth be told, though, even I began to hide my fondness for Dando around the time Car Button Cloth came out in 1996. Around New Year's, I pulled my copy out of the archives and all that repressed admiration swelled anew. Dando's forthcoming Griffith Sunsets is rumored to be no slouching effort, so former fan and true-blue alike should come out for this show. KATHLEEN WILSON

FRED EAGLESMITH, TINY KINGS
(Tractor Tavern) Simultaneously sardonic, honest, and funny, Fred Eaglesmith, an unabashed balladeer of all things rural, clearly has roots-rock songwriting by the balls, and his last few CD releases show his grip getting tighter. But to really experience Canada's best-kept secret, you have to step into the roaring furnace of his live performance. His longtime collaborators, the Flying Squirrels (a bass player and a spastic percussionist who pounds at a variety of junk attached to his body), keep time like a runaway train moments before it jumps the tracks. For hours, Eaglesmith cranks out song after song for sweaty, swaying crowds, pausing only to share an occasional sly story with the dry timing of a cowboy comedian. It's this unembarrassed sense of connection with and respect for his audience that forges his listeners from being simply engaged to hopelessly devoted. TAMARA PARIS

CRIPPLED CIRCUS FEATURING DJ TONER, EARTHLINGS?, RAYMAKERS, SEKSU ROBA, & ANUBIAN LIGHTS
(Baltic Room) Crippled Dick Hot Wax is an underground novelty label that specializes in obscure and oddball reissues and recordings, most notable for its hand in bringing Vampyros Lesbos to the masses. Tonight the label brings its kitschy beat pastiche to the States for the first time: Seksu Roba, a psychedelic electronic Japanese-Korean outfit (which boasts a seven-foot gyrating robot); Anubian Lights, which is loungey electronica by way of Can; the Earthlings?, who play stoner rock; Raymakers, who perform electro-boogie lounge; and label founder DJ Toner, who creates a wonderfully eclectic mix of cerebral sounds. Oh, and there will be belly dancers as well. F. VENTURA-PENA

JUNO, KINSKI, WELCOME
(Crocodile) There are moments on Juno's new album, A Future Lived in Past Tense, when the combined sonic roar--multiple-propulsion guitars, ascending bass lines, Arlie Carstens' anguished vocals--reaches a chilling species of transcendence. Songs like "You Are the Beautiful Conductor of This Orchestra" achieve the perfect melding of orchestration, production, and talent (think pre-Wall Floyd, the booming aural assaults of Hüsker Dü). This is music that is so just-right for right now that I can't imagine it leaving my stereo anytime soon. And seeing as the members of Juno have just returned from an extended European tour (i.e., they're tight!), this is the especially just-right time to hear the band's gorgeous stuff translated live, immediate and enveloping. RICK LEVIN

CARISSA'S WIERD, WATERY GRAVES
(Graceland) Yes, we love Carissa's Wierd (see last week's issue, probably the issue before that as well), but what you may not know is that we also love Watery Graves (if you do indeed already know this, I apologize). Why? Because, quite frankly, the band kicks our ass, and in the best way possible. There are only three guys in the band, but they make a whole lot of noise (and the fact that they are playing with Carissa's Wierd, perhaps Seattle's quietest band, is, of course, ironic). Go see them now, before we start writing about them week after week and make you sick of hearing about them. BRADLEY STEINBACHER

SUN RA TRIBUTE WITH REUBEN RADDING
(Rainbow) Of the ways to approach Sun Ra, his critics and fans tend to follow the cult of his personality: the year he descended to our planet (1914), his sci-fi front, his crowning head gear and flowing, glittering robes. But the truest way to "re-present" Sun Ra is through his music--tunes (numbering over 700) that swing and collide and travel through a wormhole of Afro-psychedelia. For two nights, former New York "Downtown" bassist Reuben Radding will lead a tribute to this most prolific and eccentric composer. Radding is no novice to Sun Ra's music, having led another Sun Ra tribute band, Myth Science, and the two evenings will feature tunes from the wide swath of Sun Ra's repertoire. KREG HASEGAWA

JOHNNY DOWD, THE MIDNIGHT CHOIR
(Tractor Tavern) See preview this issue.

SUN RA TRIBUTE WITH REUBEN RADDING
(Rainbow) See Friday listing.

CALIFONE, CANYON, CHRIS MILLS
(Crocodile) Introspective, inventive, and bold, Califone's new full-length, Roomsound (on Chicago's Perishable label) is an album that's easy to get obsessive about if you like economic songwriting that doesn't chintz on the thoughtful, well-placed musical surprises. Hazy and full of heat, Roomsound plays out like a desert daydream--a little surreal, a little itchy, and at times downright scary in the imagery it conjures. Despite multiple recommendations in the local press, Canyon's recent date at the Crocodile failed to meet the room's capacity levels (less than 20 attended). Thankfully, tonight's popular headliners should ensure that this worthy band, which includes former Boy's Life singer/guitarist Brandon Butler, gets the audience it deserves. Though Chris Mills' lovely 1998 debut, Every Night Fight for Your Life, was steeped in country-tinged longing, his 2000 release, Kiss It Goodbye, rocks harder, without eschewing one drop of regret or heartache because of it. KATHLEEN WILSON

NIGHTCAPS, BLACK CAT ORCHESTRA, DJ KENTO
(Sunset Tavern) I hated the cocktail-retro craze of a few years back, but even when you couldn't order a drink around here without feeling the wind off the lapels of some tech-support kid's zoot suit, Nightcaps were soulful, sharp, and--with frontwoman Theresa Hannam's sultry voice capable of boiling ice--seductive. With the Downer Trio's Bill Herzog on bass and lounge favorite Monty Banks tinkling on the keys, this is a most professional party band. The Black Cat Orchestra fronts a different kind of retro chic, circa 1928 Budapest, to make this a diverse and richly conjured evening of atmospherics. Bartender, a bucket of Courvoisier VSOP. GRANT COGSWELL

THE GET DOWN SYNDROME, THE DIPERS, THE NEARLY DEADS
(Gibson's) Bands like the ones on this bill make going out fun, and crowds that attend shows like this are always amped for having a good time. The Get Down Syndrome is a three-piece that plays garage rock as it ought to be played--loud, dirty, and very hard. The Dipers, featuring members of the A-Frames, Intelligence, Double Fudge, and Welcome, boast remarkably well-dressed frontmen who trade off vocals above a smart, driving, avant-sounding rock that gives respiration to the tradition of good, artful punk. As the entire world seems to be going electronic of late, mark this as an opportunity to bask in the glow of a genre that is historically relevant, irreplaceable, and will never die: rock and roll. Amen. JEFF DeROCHE

LOUDERMILK, GWEN MARS, ONE SIDE ZERO
(Graceland) A hearty welcome home to Loudermilk, which vanished into the studio to record its major-label debut what feels like an eternity ago. Although the album still hasn't seen the light of day, the band has been far from inactive; Loudermilk's time on the road (opening for such monsters of rock as Mötley Crüe) has reportedly turned the band into a leaner, meaner, full-throttle rawk machine. Also on the bill are the L.A. glam-popsters of Gwen Mars, whose SeeThru Broadcasting debut is one of the year's overlooked treasures. BARBARA MITCHELL

DAVID GRAY
(Moore Theatre) David Gray is a fine singer-songwriter who sounds a lot like Ryan Adams and writes catchy songs like "Babylon," which got much airplay over the past year: "If you want me, come and find me, for cryin' out loud...." It's good stuff, albeit very standard fare. JEFF DeROCHE

IMPERIAL TEEN, THE TURN-ONS, RUSTON MIRE
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.

JOHNNY DOWD, SUICIDE JACK
(Tractor Tavern) See preview this issue.

DAVID BYRNE, JOE HENRY
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.

KRISTIN HERSH
(Easy Street Records) See preview this issue.

THE POSIES, RODERICK, KEN & JON, HANA
(Crocodile) Unlike their seasonally blooming botanical namesakes, the Posies have proven themselves to be perennials, braving a relentless series of frosty winters to endure. The irony, of course, is that they've released more records since breaking up than they ever did while together. The sincerity, however, is that those records are awesome; the post-breakup recordings--like the new acoustic-leaning EP, Nice Cheekbones and a Ph.D.--are cupid arrows aimed directly at the hearts of the only kind of Posies fan there is: the dyed-in-the-wool fetishist for the band's unique variation on classic pop tropes. Just recently, following a very fruitful stint as an acoustic duo, they've defrosted the great Joe Bass, recruited yet another drummer (the notorious Darius Minwalla, a Peart man with Bonham leanings), and started playing as a rock band again. This re-reincarnation (they really are a fucking GREAT rock band) will delight the faithful and perplex the doubtful. Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow--less a NW Lennon & McCartney at this point than a Montezuma & Cortez--have reveled in doing that from the very beginning, and despite having been broken up for five years now, show no signs of stopping. SEAN NELSON

BEN HARPER & THE INNOCENT CRIMINALS, JACK JOHNSON
(KeyArena) Part blues revival, part Hendrix-rock, and part folk, Ben Harper has been putting out records and touring since 1992. He scores mostly with jam-rock enthusiasts (fans of Phish, etc.) because his tendencies definitely have that lean, but Harper is undeniably talented, boasting a warbly, soulful voice that is at times reminiscent of Cat Stevens. And Harper is always most gratifying when he is reminiscent of Cat Stevens--in his folkier, more emotive songs. Tonight Harper will be playing with his talented and often wanky backup band the Innocent Criminals, filling KeyArena with sound, so expect the hippies and college kids to be jamming. If you go, you might want to get stoned first. Really, really stoned. JEFF DeROCHE

KRISTIN HERSH, CARRIE BIELL
(Crocodile) See preview this issue.

OHGR
(Showbox) When post-industrial progenitors Skinny Puppy started to disintegrate in the mid-'90s, lead singer Kevin "Ogre" Oglivie retreated to Los Angeles to form his W.E.L.T. solo project. What finally emerged after years of legal hassles and months of rerecording with producer Mark Walk is an album that showcases Oglivie's savvy pop instincts, biting humor, and clever vocals, especially on the radio-friendly "Cracker," where he playfully pokes fun at the music industry. All of this may surprise fans used to hearing the psychological menace of Oglivie's former band, but it's even more surprising that this album comes less than a year after an amicable Skinny Puppy "reunion" with programmer Evin Key at a festival in Germany. Rumors abound that Key may even appear at this show. Then again, I buy lottery tickets, so I might believe anything. DAVID SLATTON

THE BUILDING PRESS, RECIDIVIST, ALL ABOUT LUPO
(Graceland) An instrumental rock band that indulges itself with loopy, embellished phrase repetition, unusual song structures, found sound, and unpredictable (though usually restrained) dynamics, Recidivist isn't writing songs likely to take the band too far above Seattle's radar. But that's only because the rest of the world is stupid and impatient. Take the two-and-a-halfish-minute song "How to Win at Chess," for example. It just sort of loops: Like five different notes are played (that's an estimate, not a fact), repetitively, and then it's over. In a live setting, most people are likely to hear that, ignore it, and just keep talking over the din. But when the band cuts loose, the sound is sturdy and energetic, and the playful dynamics Recidivist creates are consistently excellent. A band for fans of quasi-meditative rock music that develops slowly and gratifies subtly. JEFF DeROCHE

BARRY INGLE
(St. Clouds) Performing original compositions on his piano, Barry Ingle phrases his vocals like Tori Amos, but writes songs that are less dramatic (and irritating) than those of the fiery-locked witch-goddess. Ingle's is definitely a piano-bar thing, but the soft-to-hard dynamics and the clear, strong voice make this mellow evening in Madrona worth it for fans of his work. Plus you get to eat while he plays, which is really fucking badass. JEFF DeROCHE