Music

Up & Coming

STACEY EARLE, MARK STUART
(Tractor Tavern) Stacey Earle (sister of Steve) is an up-and-coming practitioner of the country called "alt," and shares, in lesser quantities, the Earles' particular, familial, rhythmic hybrid pattern for songwriting. This pattern is a blissfully insistent, almost tantric drive behind even the slowest waltz, like some time-warped 78 (rpm, not 1978) hardcore punk single played at LP speed. It is addictive. This is Stacey's third appearance here in less than a year. Her in-between-song banter is freakishly spunky and likely to get on some folks' nerves, but it is better to have an oddball personality than none at all. It must be difficult to try to create a musical career in the shadow of a larger sibling, but there it is. I can recommend this, but not highly. If you need your Earle family fix, this is probably the most you'll get until mid-2002. GRANT COGSWELL

THE 93.3 KUBE "NOT SO SILENT NIGHT" AFTER PARTY, STARRING P. DIDDY
(Showbox) The KUBE "Not So Silent Night" is an annual contest in which KUBE DJs and a guest star show up at the contest-winner's house party. This year, KUBE's guest star is none other than filthy-rich entrepreneur and suspected murderer P. Diddy. After the crew hangs out at the contest-winner's house, everyone will go to the Showbox for an after party that is open to the public. KUBE DJs are slated to spin records, and P. Diddy will "star." This event is "starring P. Diddy" because no one is quite sure what P. Diddy will do, other than be a presence. He might rap, he might sing, he might dance, he might party, he might talk, etc., but he might not. Hiphop-industry mastermind that he is, P. Diddy has reduced the galaxy of MC elements--from slang to songs to postures--to the point where an event could be held where all that is required of him is to "be in the house," as it were. Amazing. This is true Vito Acconci brilliance. BRIAN GOEDDE

JANE SIBERRY, AIKO SHIMADA
(Century Ballroom) Jane Siberry's publicist e-mailed me last month about her upcoming show and new album, for which her beautiful 1991 duet "Calling All Angels" has been re-recorded (without the stunning voice of k.d. lang, which is unfortunate). Apparently, the song is "experiencing new heights of popularity." Someone in Central Park put the song in a Discman on September 11, "and left a note explaining who Jane is and the power of this particular song," the publicist writes. "Hours later, he returned to the site only to find the disc player loaded with fresh batteries, and the single still spinning. Others who had come throughout the afternoon and listened to the song chalked the sidewalk with exclamations of love, hope, and gentle, tearful feelings." Wow. It may have been a sweet gesture at the time, but it sure is insulting as a marketing strategy, all things considered. Had I known this press release was going to be giving me that much lip service, I would have douched beforehand. JEFF DeROCHE

ROCK*A*TEENS, THE TURN-ONS, THE GET DOWN SYNDROME
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.

THE (INTERNATIONAL) NOISE CONSPIRACY, RIVAL SCHOOLS, THE HIVES, ONE TIME ANGELS
(Graceland) From Umeå, Sweden, comes the (International) Noise Conspiracy... again. But it's a good thing this band tours relentlessly, because the war on capitalism is ever hard-won. The (I)NC is in town "promoting" another hyper-political release, this time a full-length album called A New Morning. It's fun, herky-jerk, and packed with melody, as the live show will be. And as you know, because the band is so anti-capitalist--and believe me, the (International) Noise Conspiracy is SO anti-capitalist--all the proceeds from tonight's show go solely to billmates Rival Schools, the Hives, and One Time Angels. I'm not joking. The (International) Noise Conspiracy never makes a dime off record sales, ticket prices, or merchandise. In fact, the (International) Noise Conspiracy is fed and expensed solely by WTO-fighting Communists. See preview this issue. JEFF DeROCHE

RICK PRESTON & DJ SPUN, CHRIS VARGAS, ROBBIE DURHAM
(I-Spy) The genre of house music that Rick Preston is associated with is "deep house," which is as sensual and spatial as it sounds. Under Preston's fingers, though, I take it to also mean the "classical music" of house--"deep" in the sense of an Old World honor of beats. Preston began spinning regularly in San Francisco in the late '80s, and his musicianship over the past decade has laid the groundwork for many of the sounds that you hear today. Tonight he plays with DJ Spun, each on two turntables, for a wonderful night in the deep house that Preston built. BRIAN GOEDDE

EVANGELINE, DEER WHISTLE, GOING SOUTH
(Tractor) There is a deep notch of truth at the heart of Gerald Collier's songs. Whether in the glittering swell of his former power-pop combo Best Kissers in the World or the spare etchings of his two fine solo albums, Collier's raw, yearning voice and skillful guitar-playing offer up daily struggles and romantic disappointments with cynicism that finds an odd kind of affirmation in being voiced. With his powerful new three-piece Deer Whistle, Collier has found two simpatico players in the rhythm section of bassist David Swafford and drummer Tom Nurse. Fellow Seattle band Evangeline, whose moniker comes from the album title of an '80s Emmylou Harris obscurity, continues to mine the fertile country-rock territory of the Flying Burrito Brothers and Gram Parsons with breathtaking results. Songwriter and guitarist Chris Cline finds the twilight where relationships look less than sustainable, and hope is gleaned from finding brief harmony in the face of competing solitudes. Jennifer Potter's beautiful crystalline voice conjures a golden era of country, back when intelligent and empathic singers made each phrase their own with ruefulness and sidelong wisdom. NATE LIPPENS

ANGELS OF LIGHT, VIRGIL SHAW, CARISSA'S WIERD, SUFFERING & THE HIDEOUS THIEVES
(Graceland) For your safety, The Stranger would like to recommend that you attend this show with a friend. This is because, upon hearing the gorgeous, rugged beauty of Angels of Light, there is a possibility you may swoon, and you'll need a "revival buddy" to rouse you with some smelling salts. Angels of Light is the songwriting project M. Gira created when he disbanded Swans in 1997. He sings with an unfathomably grave baritone, delivering lyrics both literary and gloomy, and plays acoustic guitar with a band that also features a lap steel and drums. Gira's apparently been listening to more Johnny Cash and Hank Williams as of late, because there is a country twang beneath his macabre love songs. When I saw him at the Neurot Festival in San Francisco earlier this year, Gira wore a white Stetson and towered charmingly above the audience; the result was a bit like the Marlboro Man singing whiskey ballads for the young and tragic. Gira's mere presence is that compelling. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

DJ FOOD & DK, FOUR TET, BONOBO
(I-Spy) The last thing anyone would call 23-year-old Kieran Hebden is a slacker. This lanky guy fronts Fridge, which spent much of last year as Badly Drawn Boy's backing band and is hands down the U.K.'s finest post-rock/post-everything Wire-magazine sorta music group. And if you don't believe me, you haven't spent any time with Fridge's new disc, Happiness (Temporary Residence). Hebden has remixed Pole, His Name Is Alive, David Holmes, Aphex, and a bunch of other folks. He has also released two spectacularly boundary-pushing solo albums as Four Tet: Dialogue (Output) in 1999, and this year's impossible-to-define sonic soup Pause (Domino). Four Tet's music is spellbinding and fucked-up. It's experimental music that's not afraid to be accessible in all the right ways, like some brilliant mix-tape/cut-up of This Heat, Timbaland, Eno, Faust, Lee Perry, the Butthole Surfers, and Thomas Brinkmann. Dude, Four Tet really is that good--well, on record anyway. Will the live thing be anywhere close? Only one way to find out. MIKE McGONIGAL

THE ESOTERICS: STELLARUM
(Pilgrim Congregational Church) See Stranger Suggests.

PONGA
(Sit & Spin) See preview this issue.

ROOTS OF ORCHIS, EVEN JOHANSON
(Graceland) Somewhere along the line--mid-'90s, perhaps--a lot of instrumental bands whose compositional focus was based primarily on dynamics decided that they had to be spacious, quiet, and patient. Unfortunately, instrumental, spacious, quiet, and patient can often equal BORING, and many groups just end up sounding like your grandma's worst adult-contemporary nightmare. San Diego's Roots of Orchis, though, has a polished patience that never lulls you into napping. With pretty guitars, subtle sampling/mixing, and propulsive drums, Roots of Orchis writes songs with a dose of brooding atmosphere. The band tiptoes into the glassy stream of sophisticated, electronic-influenced ambience, sometimes even coming off like the windy audio backdrop for a planetarium, and suddenly filling its space with intrusive drum fills. Roots of Orchis is a welcome reminder that introspection doesn't always lead to brain freeze. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

PIGFACE, GRAVITY KILLS, GODHEAD
(Sky Church) Pigface often resembles a slo-mo train wreck, a whirlwind of musical chaos too confusing and mesmerizing to turn away from, even when the carnage approaches an unnatural dimension. This Chicago-based industrial collective celebrates a decade this year, and its ringleader, former Killing Joke and PiL drummer Martin Atkins, has assembled another all-star cast of underground heroes to experiment with his multi-headed monster. Starring singer Meg Lee Chin, Thrill Kill Kult bassist Charles Levi, and former Ministry and RevCo vocalist Chris Connelly, this show promises to be completely unpredictable. The communal spirit of the project encourages cooperative songwriting and improvisation. More often than not, this results in mind-blowing performances of some of the group's signature songs like "Kiss King" or "Fuck It Up." But sometimes it degenerates into a cacophony of voices from a dozen iconoclasts sharing the stage. And every once in a while the show turns into a food fight between the audience and the artists. I'm exaggerating a little here, but not by much. DAVID SLATTON

LISA LOEB, PHIL CODY
(Crocodile) Thank God the whole "glasses pride movement" that singer/songwriter Lisa Loeb tried to usher in during her Gen-X heyday never took hold. In my opinion, Echo & the Bunnymen frontman Ian McCulloch is a role model for all of us vain myopics out there: I've observed the well-documented-to-be-blind-as-a-bat singer place his drink precariously half on/half off his amp and watched as he ashed his cigarette about six inches to the side of his ashtray. Now there's a man who knows that once you've strode upon stage with your Coke-bottle-bottoms strapped to your head, you're forever working a schtick. In fact, after Visqueen singer Rachel Flotard wore her glasses while playing a show with her former band Hafacat, some wiseacre substituted Loeb's head for Flotard's on the band's poster. Flotard vowed never again to perform in her much-needed specs. Speaking of bottles: It's rumored that Ms. Loeb has requested "no glass" at her show; beverages are to be served in plastic cups only. Is she that damaged by her notoriety? Maybe it was a "no glasses" request. In the spirit of vanity, I'll drink to that. KATHLEEN WILSON

STEFON HARRIS & JACKY TERRASSON
(Jazz Alley) Vibraphonist Stefon Harris' last promising appearance in Seattle was with the Blue Note New Directions Group, a lineup of Blue Note's brightest barely-legal young jazz stars, including Marc Shim and Greg Osby. That tour didn't quite revitalize the label's contemporary sales as was hoped, but they put on a good show of hard-bop firepower. Now Harris appears with pianist Jacky Terrasson, another coltish Blue Note phenom who has risen from backing--he was Betty Carter's pianist--to producing his own collection of promising solo albums. No word on how these two musicians play together, but regardless, you'll have a rare chance at the Jazz Alley to gaze upon the cherubic face of jazz's post-bop future. NATHAN THORNBURGH

Mope, mope, mope, mope, mope, mope, mope.

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