(MUSIC) The two women in Metalux make some of the most fucked-up, no-wave-esque noise currently wafting around this fucked-up nation. Played on guitar, reel-to-reel machines, and a contraption called a tranoe, their music lurches, oscillates, buzzes, warbles, and whirs like a DJ set spun by Eraserhead's Man in the Planet. As crispy and disturbing as a mescaline-fueled jam between Butthole Surfers and Chrome, Metalux's art will make you forget about Karl Rove's fat, smug face. (Dr. Glorious, 2216 E Fir St, 633-1490. 8 pm, $5, all ages.) DAVE SEGAL