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Lose your spandex, hair, and air every night this week!
Mico de Noche, He Whose Ox Is Gored, White Orange, Ancient Warlocks
(Neumos) Headlining this evening of crushing rock righteousness is the recently re-formed Mico de Noche, who brought their downtuned sludge back to the showgoing people of Seattle in 2011 to end a yearlong hiatus. He Whose Ox Is Gored take a more streamlined approach to their doomy post-hardcore but keep the decibels cranked high. White Orange and Ancient Warlocks both hark back to that psychedelic, fuzzed-out stoner-metal sound of old, but the former's post-alternative à la Kyuss/Monster Magnet is quite different from the latter's '70s-style Sabbath-ian grooves. This is gonna be a loud one, folks. MIKE RAMOS
Sandrider, Lesbian, Brokaw
(Comet) Tonight's show is a record-release party for Seattle heavy-rock trio Sandrider (composed of Jon Weisnewski and Nat Damm of Akimbo and Jesse Roberts of the Ruby Doe/Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds). Sandrider bolt streamlined, steamroller chord progressions and TIG-welded riffs that take turns driving and flying over Damm's notoriously unflappable beats. It's hard rock, but you can read to it (which is nearly impossible with most rock records). You could do lots of pursuits to this forceful and sophisticated avalanche of sound: world domination. Fortress building. Ruling your kingdom. Taking asses and kicking names. Drag racing. Fishing. GRANT BRISSEY
Airpocalypse, SuperNothing, Prat Attack, Explement
(Funhouse) Airpocalypse are the America's Got Talent–gracing, Stranger Gong Show–winning, Air Guitar Hall of Fame–honored air band born and bred in Seattle. Armed only with spandex, hair, and air—and completely unencumbered by shame—Airpocalypse will kill themselves to rock you. This fake band works real hard—and you can see, feel, and, yes, smell it. (Favored weapon: explosive buttrock medleys.) Joining Airpocalypse are three actual bands: Kent punks SuperNothing, Seattle punks Prat Attack, and Bremerton punks Explement. DAVID SCHMADER
Craig Robinson & the Nasty Delicious
(Neptune) Craig Robinson is my husband Darryl on The Office, aka the dude in Hot Tub Time Machine, Knocked Up, Pineapple Express, Zack and Miri Make a Porno, and more movies you can see listed on IMDb.com. Before he was a famous and hilarious actor, though, he was a middle-school music teacher, and now he uses his music-making skills to play funny, tongue-in-cheek R&B/jazz-inspired numbers about whatever springs to mind (warning: His mind is kind of dirty). MEGAN SELING
Mark Gunnery, On a Clear Day, Cat Jokes, Jackie Hell
(Gallery 1412) See Underage.
Seattle Symphony: The Bach Family
(Benaroya Hall) See preview.
White Coward, Blood Beach, Haunted Horses
(The In) See Underage.
Max Cooper, Cyanwave, Nordic Soul
(Re-bar) See Data Breaker.
Thee Cormans, Le Sang Song, Broomsticks, Telemesser
(Funhouse) Thee Cormans could be considered the horror-/surf-rock counterparts to GWAR (RIP, Cory Smoot). The drummer is a gorilla, and then there's "the colonel" (bass), some weird alien/Muppet (guitar), and I'm not really sure what that other guy is up to. There's not a whole lot of singing here, but all three members usually want a microphone so they can say things like "He's the one who convinced us to give up our dreams and die young" and "This is the worst birthday party we've ever played!" Tonight's show is a benefit for Letha Melchior, who was recently diagnosed with cancer. Get there and cheers to fun times and triumph in the face of adversity. GRANT BRISSEY
Kinski, Broken Water, Milk Music, Gun Outfit
(Chop Suey) Kinski is a Seattle hard-rock institution that continues to impress in live contexts, long after the point when most bands of its tenure go bad. Their early space-rock leanings have become more earthbound in recent years, but they still pack a thrilling wallop with their dynamic torrents of brawny riffing and interludes of experimental strangeness. Olympia's Broken Water guzzle from the fountain of Sonic Youth (but not slavishly), peddling rock that balances melodic beauty with textural grit and high-volume power. Fellow Olympians Gun Outfit sound like a long-lost SST band from 1987, with trace elements of Dinosaur Jr., Hüsker Dü, and Meat Puppets coursing through their sonic DNA. Deadpan male vocals flatline to some surging, robust, blue-collar rock. Greg Ginn, white courtesy telephone. DAVE SEGAL
Dick Dale, Dead Man
(Tractor) Dick Dale is a LEGEND. He, along with his Deltones, sorta, kinda invented biting, reverb-soaked surf guitar. Like, I say "invented" 'cause tho' surf music was the edge of rock/roll progression by 1961, it was Dale who was pushing the boundaries of ROCK the hardest. AND, way back then, along with Leo Fender, as in Fender Guitar, Dale was a test rat for developing amplifier and speaker standards most rock bands have used since. Them amp designs were ALL developed around Dale's sound and need for more VOLUME! So Dick Dale is like goddamn Christopher Columbus, but without the genocide. MIKE NIPPER
Seattle Symphony: The Bach Family
(Benaroya Hall) See preview.
Allen Stone with Seattle Rock Orchestra
(Neptune) See Stranger Suggests.
Motor City Drum Ensemble
(Re-bar) See Data Breaker.
Panabrite, Widesky, Early Atoms, Cody Yantis
(Gallery 1412) See Data Breaker.
Ripynt, Spekulation, Sarx, DJ Seabefore
(High Dive) If you've read my criticism over the past decade, you know how I feel about live instrumentation and hiphop: The two are not a match made in heaven. My reasons for this opinion: One, hiphop is not really music but metamusic (music that's made from the music of musicians), two, it's not easy for a band not to sound like a band, and true hiphop never sounds like a band. Overcoming these two obstacles is not easy, which is why I'm very impressed with the band that works with Spekulation, a local rapper and producer. The beats made by his group, which is mostly composed of Cornish-educated jazz players, manage to maintain that hiphop non-band feel that means so much to me. Spekulation's hiphop is also bold, cinematic, and lusty. We should keep one eye on that young artist's doings. CHARLES MUDEDE See also My Philosophy.
Seattle Opera: Attila
(McCaw Hall) Who—okay, yes, I know you have, Mister Operasuperstarbuffman—has ever seen Verdi's opera about Attila the Hun fighting a bunch of determined Italian women? Hardly anybody, that's who. Seattle Opera has never done it before, and now it's here. It hardly gets better than Hun opera. JEN GRAVES
Metal Chocolates, the New Law, Dead Noise, WD4D
(Crocodile) Rik Rude and OC Notes' psychedelic art-rap project Metal Chocolates' headlining set should be reason enough to check out this show, but the New Law are another local duo worth your early arrival. Adam Straney and Justin Neff create cinematic instrumentals by combining dusty vinyl samples, moody sax/horn loops, and spacey synths over hard-knocking drum beats. Tonight, they celebrate the release of their latest album, The Fifty Year Storm, 13 new tracks that capture more of the '90s triphop ambience they displayed on 2009's High Noon and their 2006 self-titled debut. It sounds great on headphones but should be even better live. MIKE RAMOS
Fu Manchu, Helms Alee, Witchburn
(El Corazón) Like marijuana, stoner rock will probably always be with us. And that's comforting. That a band like Fu Manchu can sustain a 25-year career brings one a sense of stability in this volatile world. The SoCal group doesn't scale the dizzying heights of Kyuss or Monster Magnet, but over 10 albums they've created a solid body of work with few seeds or stems. Burly, furry riffage descended from Black Sabbath and Deep Purple buttressed by boogie-funk rhythms is a formula as recession-proof as pizza... and weed. Fu Manchu reliably deliver those heavy, hedonistic vibes like some kind of Pagliacci of stoner rock—but without the cheese. DAVE SEGAL
MLK Unity Dance Party: DJs Riz, Kid Hops, Masa
(Neumos) Riz Rollins is human—of flesh and blood he is made. But he is also one of the city's most important cultural institutions. And what exactly do I mean by institution? An institution is above all a deep repository of human memories. For example, the institution of Boeing stores the memories of how planes are made. As a popular DJ at local clubs and KEXP, Rollins is exactly this: the point at which many of our memories of this city are stored. Here is one such memory: While driving down I-5 one night in 1997, I heard Riz mix on the radio (the station was then called KCMU) the instrumental of Buckwild's remix of Organized Konfusion's "Bring It On" with what can only be described as thunderous jungle drums. Riz's mix was not pretty—he would drop the tumbling drums messily on this or that part of the dark and robotic "Bring It On"—but it was raw and wonderful, like mindless fucking. That is just one memory among many that Rollins stores for me. CHARLES MUDEDE
Megabats, PRND, Cerebral Lights, Dusty Shriver
(Josephine) Because the world can never have too many Terry Riley acolytes, Seattle duo Megabats are essential to our musical ecology. Not to imply that Megabats simply regurgitate master minimalist composer Riley's celestial swirls of electric organs; rather, they take inspiration from Riley to coax their own special clouds of hypnotic ambience. Cop the Solaria CD for ample evidence of Megabats' enlightening beams of sound. Local lone wolf Dusty Shriver is a Salvador Dalí of psychedelia. His surreal sonic hallucinogens subvert your concept of how oscillations ripple through time. Ears become portals to funhouses as Dusty and his instruments laugh at your feeble attempts to grasp his music's "meaning." He rolled the Black Dice and came up boxcars. DAVE SEGAL
(Funhouse) Postmadonna are maximalists in both group size and sound. A nine-member ensemble mostly based in Seattle, but with some musicians scattered in New York and elsewhere, Postmadonna encompass garish prog rock, quasi-hiphop bombast, organic/synthetic orchestral rock, and discombobulated psychedelia. On their Philip K. Dick–inspired album Valis, they make Flaming Lips at their most grandiose sound like Bill Callahan. You may not like every ludicrously extravagant gesture, but you have to respect Postmadonna's supersized ambitions and wizardly technical capabilities. They stand out in a morass of underachievers. DAVE SEGAL
Theophilus London, THEESatisfaction, K.Flay
Wolves in the Throne Room, Master Musicians of Bukkake, Druden
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.