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Lose your sulking mildew rag every night this week!
Ulrich Schnauss, Secret Colors
(Neumos) See Data Breaker.
Crazy Eyes, Cigarette Bums, Lindseys
(Comet) You know who wins the "crazy eyes" award of the century? That orange-haired nutjob James Eagan Holmes, the guy who shot up that movie theater full of people in Aurora, Colorado. I doubt this newish dreamy, druggy Seattle garage-rock band named themselves after Holmes, but I want to humbly suggest that they consider using one of Holmes's now-infamous courtroom photos on the cover of a 7-inch sleeve for their song "WWIII Songs in Hi Fi." It would be perfect since Crazy Eyes also have a song named "Close to Death," and another called just plain ol' "Death"—but that might just be morbid. KELLY O
Filastine, Truckasauras, BizZaRa, Penny Wide Pupils
(Barboza) See Data Breaker.
Slum Village, Fly Moon Royalty, Johnny Polygon
(Nectar) One of the greatest hiphop groups of the '90s, Slum Village were formed by three brilliant cats, two of whom—rapper Baatin and producer J Dilla—are dead (the sole survivor is rapper T3). And exactly what did this Detroit trio contribute to the rich history of hiphop—besides some of the best beats Dilla ever produced? An erotics of hiphop. As I have said before, sex in Slum Village's music is not represented pornographically but erotically. Track after track (and, like great sex, none of the tracks is too long) on the masterpiece Fan-Tas-Tic, Vol. 1, we feel and hear the delights of receiving and giving head, of masturbating and watching someone masturbating, of the fluids that are exchanged during intercourse. Listening to Slum Village's early stuff is hiphop's equivalent to reading Roland Barthes's The Pleasure of the Text. CHARLES MUDEDE
(Marymoor Park) Here's where you'll find the coolest, wealthiest people in the Seattle area tonight. A scourge to many misguided souls, Steely Dan are the BMW of AOR. The Dan's precise, complex jazz rock gives fellow musicians jealousy boners, but beneath the coked-out perfectionism slither tunes and sardonic lyrics engineered to stimulate pleasure zones forever. With a catalog piled high with indelible hits and stellar deep cuts, Steely Dan are one of the better values on the live nostalgia circuit. DAVE SEGAL
The Polyphonic Spree, Harper Simon, Friends and Family
(Neumos) I will always adore Polyphonic Spree's The Beginning Stages Of..., it's filled with explosive, unrelenting optimism, and I can't not get goose bumps when dozens of voices sing, "Hey, it's the sun/And it makes me shine." Comparatively, the band's newest album, Yes, It's True, feels a bit... lacking. There's still a choir of voices, but they're incorporated more as an afterthought than as the star of the show. And there's still inspiring optimism—consider the song "Hold Yourself Up" for mile 25 of whatever metaphorical marathon you're currently running—but other songs, like "You Don't Know Me" and "Heart Talk," fall flat (though I do like the tuba in the latter). If you're on the fence about attending tonight's show, consider this: Recent set lists show they've also been performing their infamous cover of "Lithium." That'll surely sway your decision. MEGAN SELING
Stanley Clarke Band
(Jazz Alley) Well, this is bad timing. Stanley Clarke will surely be distraught after the recent death of his friend, frequent collaborator, and keyboard legend George Duke. Nevertheless, one suspects Clarke will soldier through his sadness and deliver a technically dazzling show. A deity of melody on the standup and electric bass, Clarke has plucked those four heavy strings for the fiery, rococo Return to Forever, the third greatest-jazz-fusion band ever (after Mahavishnu Orchestra and Miles Davis's '70s groups), and in a long, distinguished solo career that includes the classic LP School Days. Come witness Clarke's astonishing technique, with accompaniment by pianist Mahesh Balasooriya and drummer Michael Mitchell. DAVE SEGAL
It's a Shit Show: Willam Belli, Detox Icunt, Vicky Vox
(Neighbours) See The Homosexual Agenda.
(Sonic Boom Records) See Underage.
Smith Westerns, Wampire, the Hoot Hoots
(Crocodile) See Underage.
Stanley Clarke Band
(Jazz Alley) See Thursday.
Mudhoney, the Grizzled Mighty, Dude York
(Mural Amphitheater) It's August already, y'all—Seattle's got some summer cramming to do. Our weather-challenged corner is nearing the end of its brief annual transition from sulking mildew rag to glorious, shorts-wearing, vitamin-D-powered sun freak. Have you gone outside enough? Have you seen enough music? How about FREE, ALL-AGES MUSIC on a lawn with the Space Needle in the background?? The Seattle Center and KEXP have teamed up to bring you a handful of outdoor music shows this month at the Mural Amphitheatre. This week, get wild with scathing garage gods Mudhoney, hardened blues-rock twosome the Grizzled Mighty, and pleasing popsmiths Dude York. Man, I hope it's not raining when you read this. EMILY NOKES
(Neumos) Heavy-music stalwarts the Melvins have been at it for 30 years. For perspective, it's helpful to take in Mangled Demos from 1983. Released in 2005, Demos starts with a hilarious "Elks Lodge Christmas Broadcast," in which the radio announcer interviews Buzz Osborne, then–bass player Matt Lukin (who would later go on to Mudhoney), and then-drummer Mike Dillard (who recently went into the studio with Osborne and Dale Crover on bass to cut Tres Cabrones), all 18 or 19 years old. The following songs demonstrate the blueprints for how the Melvins would influence Nirvana and a whole slew of other bands that went on to more notoriety. Of course, now the Melvins are an entirely different beast than they were in 1983, having folded in Jared Warren and Coady Willis from Big Business, but 30 years later, they're still innovating and cutting quality records, and they're still heavy. Respect. GRANT BRISSEY
Black Weirdo Party: OCnotes, Chocolate Chuck
(Lo-Fi) Word is that the Black Weirdo parties—created and curated by Catherine Harris-White and Stasia Irons, aka THEESatisfaction—have gone down, at last count, in the Bay Area, New York, and Toronto to packed rooms of rapturous, colorful souls. Tonight will be the second hometown installment, featuring THEE's psychedelic brother-in-arms OCnotes and Cat's literal brother, the beat scientist/visual enhanceer Chocolate Chuck. I just got word that this party will also feature one of the newest, brightest lights on the darkest side of town—dapper young Porter Ray, whose genius debut BLK GLD marked him as our own Illmatic-era Nasir Jones. FYI, you don't have to be black to attend—the rest is on you to prove. LARRY MIZELL JR.
Cloud Control, Tomten, Mal de Mer
(Barboza) No, Tomten aren't a psychedelic band, but there is something about their music that causes a psychedelic reaction within my brain. As soon as my ears get a whiff of the Seattle trio's organ-laced pop that sounds straight out of the '60s, my synapses start to sparkle, and suddenly everything is paisley—colors swirl, the streets turn into fields of flowers swaying in the wind, and brightly colored bunnies hop around, delicately chomping on dandelion leaves. Tonight they'll open for Cloud Control, who will bring you back to a less-colorful reality. Since their 2010 release, Bliss Release, these Aussies have turned down the folk and turned up the dance, making them appeal to fans of Matt & Kim. It's not bad! It just doesn't make me imagine rainbow bunnies, is all. MEGAN SELING
USF, Hibou, Cashpony, Frozen Folk, Bone Cave Ballet
(Comet) Sometimes you crave music that just Astroglides through your earspace with no friction at all. Sometimes you desire pastel melodies to sugar up your brain with a jaunty insouciance—even if you're not sure what "insouciance" means. That's where Seattle quartet Hibou—led by Peter Michel—flounce in. The band (whose name is pronounced "eee-booo") sound like ultrasensitive devotees of British new wave and shoegaze. Their songs are as lithe and beautiful as supermodels. If they get the right manager and some key breaks, Hibou could be very big. You heard it here first (or maybe second—I'm too busy to google at the moment). DAVE SEGAL
The Moondoggies, Country Lips, the Quiet Ones
(Tractor) Whether it's the Beach Boys, the Everly Brothers, the Carter Family, or the Jackson 5: everyone's a sucker for a family band, and the Totten brothers' project, the Quiet Ones, is no exception. Subtle, off-kilter, and well-crafted songs prove that, in the words of the band, there is indeed power in the blood. Next, pulling out your finest party bolo ties and dancing boots is in order for the nonstop fun of Country Lips, although this country party is way more akin to the Flying Burrito Brothers than Kenny Chesney. But most importantly, the night will belong to the Moondoggies, whose somber, beautifully melodic NW folk makes a perfect soundtrack to stroke your beard and ponder the nighttime beach bonfire. They will be playing the first of two release shows at the Tractor for Adiós I'm a Ghost, their freshly minted release on Hardly Art. BREE MCKENNA
Stanley Clarke Band
(Jazz Alley) See Thursday.
(Chapel Performance Space) In what may result in shenanigans, Robert Blatt and friends perform scores from his Text Score a Day Twitter feed experiment. A few examples: "#291: Entertain me." "#290: 4+ performers obstruct each other's movement and sound-making ability as much as possible." "#282: An orchestra plays a piece on a slowly submerging boat." "#281: Scare an audience and performers." "#289: (for Cobain, Zizek, Lacan, and Fanon) a mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido, a denial." Blatt also has a sonic sculptural installation at Jack Straw New Media Gallery this month. JEN GRAVES
Erik Blood, Western Haunts, Jason Dodson
(Vera) Western Haunts radiate a twangish harmoniousness that skews Fleet Foxy on the beard scale, but theirs is a folk soaked in deep, shiny reverb and possessing a galloping emotion that I believe some would refer to as shoegaze. Speaking of music that is both deep and shining with reverb, local melody wizard Erik Blood will be playing a final show with his band tonight, and then moving forward to focus his magic on a new solo album and other exciting, sure-to-be-wonderful-with-his-thumbprint-on-them projects (new albums from Shabazz Palaces and THEESatisfaction! Eeeeh!). With Jason Dodson of the Maldives. Go and get your feelings swirled! EMILY NOKES
A Midsummer's Night with the Monkees
(Benaroya) It was the Monkees who taught me the most important lesson in regards to being a music fan—people, including (perhaps especially) musicians, are complex creatures. When I first fell in love with the Monkees, I was still in the single digits, so I didn't realize how important that was until several years later, but growing up watching Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork be goofy TV stars while simultaneously playing sincere and great pop songs planted the fact in my little brain that music can be fun and funny, and that sincerity and silliness can coexist. I will always be thankful for that. Tonight's performance won't be the same without Davy Jones, of course, but it'll still be something magical. MEGAN SELING
Royce the Choice, Spac3man, Cam the Mac, Porter Ray, Ye'D
(Neumos) See My Philosophy.
Stanley Clarke Band
(Jazz Alley) See Thursday.
Hempfest: DJ Muggs of Cypress Hill, Black Magic Noize, (Hed)p.e., Lisa Dank
(Myrtle Edwards Park) Back for a 22nd year, Hempfest is the world's largest annual cannabis protest rally, and Seattle is one of the few spots in America where recreational marijuana use is legal, so what's the point now? A big, skunky party, that's what, featuring tons of food booths and bong booths and music, including such herb-enhanced acts as Lisa Dank, Black Magic Noize, and DJ Muggs of Cypress Hill. (Here's hoping there's a booth serving Mexican desserts, because I would love to see how DJ Muggs could just kill a flan.) At the unbeautifully named Myrtle Edwards Park. DAVID SCHMADER
Scarub, Tope, Turtle T, DJ Andrew Savoie
(Crocodile) See My Philosophy.
The Dillinger Escape Plan, Animals as Leaders, Periphery, Norma Jean
(Showbox Sodo) The Dillinger Escape Plan won my attention and respect for the title of their 1999 album, Calculating Infinity. How could any other math-rock group ever hope to surpass that for greatness and appropriateness? Game over. Thankfully, that release had the music to match its mind-boggling title. Combining white-guy-with-blood-spurting-from-his-jugular vocals with incomprehensibly complex rhythms and scalding, mercurial guitar blare, Calculating Infinity is a pinnacle of a particular kind of avant-metal. This year's One of Us Is the Killer is relatively accessible for DEP (and even conventionally pretty in parts), although there's still a caustic truculence to the songs. But, yeah, it's no Calculating Infinity. DAVE SEGAL
No Age, Devin Gary & Ross, Sun Foot, Naomi Punk
(Washington Hall) See Underage.
Radius Etc., Introcut, DJ Fishboogie, WD4D
(Lo-Fi) See Data Breaker.