Dave Segal on Night Beats:

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Night Beats, the Fling, This Blinding Light

(Sunset) Night Beats are not playing dress-up; they are writing songs. Since Traeger moved here a few weeks ago, they've conceived a whole new live set. They already had a solid foundation, as evidenced by the six-track Street EP, which Rajan recorded solo on GarageBand in his apartment. "Stampede" hints at the Velvets' "Run Run Run," but is more primal. "Little War in the Midwest" flaunts wailing, corrosive guitar riffing reminiscent of Jimmy Page's Yardbirds work. The stark, mantric "H-Bomb" crosses Can's "Mother Sky" with the Human Beinz's "Nobody but Me," but slows them down to a menacing lope. Rajan's voice often assumes a rawer Robert Plant—like plaint, with a tendency to shift into melismatic anguish. You can imagine his eyes rolling in the back of his head like ricocheting pinballs as he sings.

In Up & Coming:

Sunn O))) quintet, Pelican, Eagle Twin

(Neumos) By now you probably realize that Sunn O))) are the Beatles of this drone-metal shit, and their live performances are akin to invasive surgery with blunt instruments. Knowing that they'll have five members onstage for this gig, you may want to write your will before attending. Salt Lake City duo Eagle Twin are all up for the down-tuned dirge-and-growl trudge: Think Nick Cave circa Birthday Party's "King Ink" fronting Melvins at their most tarpitiful. L.A.-via-Chicago quartet Pelican move at a slightly swifter pace than their billmates do, artfully threading shoegaze and psych-rock finery into metal's armor-plated suit. DAVE SEGAL

Fatal Lucciauno, Helladope, Candidt, Thee Satisfaction

(High Dive) The third wave of 206 hiphop is a reality. Local hiphop has been going through a transformation over the past year or so. The first wave, which is not dead, was essentially the black American artist's rejection of commercial values and a turn to a progressive ethic. The second movement continued this trend but diversified it to include Asians, black Africans, and whites. The current movement is going through racial, sexual, and genre diversification. The third movement involves a melting of all boundaries, a mixing of all elements. Thee Satisfaction are certainly a part of this transformation. The group's two rappers are very active (they have worked with Champagne Champagne and the Physics) and are introducing lesbian themes/energies to the melting stage of Seattle hiphop. CHARLES MUDEDE See also My Philosophy.

AFCGT, Arbitron, Treetarantula, Oko Yono

(Comet) Tonight, the Comet hosts another stacked bill of potent psychedelic rock, courtesy of some of Seattle's heaviest cats. You should be familiar with AFCGT (A Frames + Climax Golden Twins) by now; they're working on a new album for Sub Pop that I'm predicting will set a new standard in scathing for the label (roll over Wolf Eyes and tell Pissed Jeans the news). As noted recently here, Arbitron deal in menacing noise rock that will not set your mind at ease, and Treetarantula go crazy with the wah-wah until you hear/see Yahweh. Oko Yono is/are a complete mystery to me at this juncture. I hope to rectify that soon. DAVE SEGAL

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The Beats, Man; the Curious Mystery; 1-2-1-2

(Tractor) With two honkies, a laptop, and a goofy sense of humor, the Beats, Man produce the sound of pure summer fun. On "Beats Mand of Horses," the duo holler at each other over a shuffling, glammy T.Rex beat: "Hey! Get your horses outta my garage!/Get your horses outta my garage!/Get your cars out of my horse stable!/Get your cars out of my horse stable!" They sound a little like incarnations of Marc Bolan—but, you know, not crazy. Just silly fun. The opening groups aren't quite as carefree: 1-2-1-2 mix more serious, almost doleful dance numbers. The Curious Mystery are the odd band out, playing psychedelic garage-blues. On "Nicaragua," a slide guitar meanders slowly and aimlessly up and down like it's lost and not particularly interested in being found again. "Outta California" begins with a quick country shuffle but settles back into the slow, dark mood where the Curious Mystery seem most comfortable. BRENDAN KILEY

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