AVEO, ARLO, PETROL, VENDETTA RED
(Graceland) Tonight's show is a CD release party for Los Angeles' Arlo, whose new record, Up High in the Night, is coming out on Sub Pop. We at The Stranger recall Arlo to be that band of "alterna-rock" boys with the backward baseball caps and the puffy jackets, though I was assured by Sub Pop this morning that such is not the case: "I think one of them had a hat on backwards at one point," I was told, "but I don't believe he's wearing that anymore." On a local front: Headliner Aveo has just finished recording a Phil Ek-produced first CD for Brown Records that's going to be good. Though it hasn't been mixed, and won't be available for some time yet, make sure you take your opportunity to see this band now, before these musicians are no longer our local headliners. JEFF DeROCHE
eXBeSTFRIeNDS, S, WATERY GRAVES
(Showbox) Remember how sexy grunge used to sound? I didn't either until I saw Watery Graves open up for eXBeSTFRIeNDS at Graceland recently. Thick, slow--and for screaming lack of a better term, groove-laden--this local three-piece gets the nether regions all hot and bothered in a way that is distinctly reminiscent of the sweaty clubs and back seats native to the Northwest in the early '90s. KATHLEEN WILSON
LEE SCRATCH PERRY
(Bohemian) As a producer of reggae music, Lee Perry is in a class all his own. From behind the sound board he cultivated the sound of Bob Marley (and the Clash!) among many others, and has always been an integral part of reggae, infusing it with his own musical vision as he has seen fit. As a musician, however, Scratch has long been known to be on his own wavelength, experimental on stage, creating a kind of primordial, reggae-laced freeform that gives listeners a slight glimpse into the musical netherworld of his mind, if nothing else. KRIS ADAMS
STEPHEN MALKMUS & THE JICKS, THE SWORDS PROJECT
(Graceland) Malkmus cuts loose at the Pavement's end. See preview this issue.
UNDISPUTED HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONS, THE VACCINES, THE FAKES, THROAT MOTTLE
(Gibson's) A certain amount of respect is due to any band willing to compare itself with former Heavyweight Champion Muhammad Ali. After all, the boxer's stance against the Vietnam War and his in-your-face black pride were impressive--not to mention his cocksure attitude and abundant charm. Would you want to stand toe-to-toe with the man and his reputation? Boldly towing the line between hardcore and heavy metal, the Undisputed Heavyweight Champs have taken the flame from would-be contenders and will be lighting the torch at the next summer games. NATE LEVIN
THE FASTBACKS, THE GENTS
(Sit & Spin) The band that defines Seattle says good-bye to Mike Musburger. See preview this issue.
BIZZ, JASON DUNNE, WISH FM, MARS, JOEY MAZZOLA
(EMP) Wish FM is the alias of one Wade Hampton, a San Francisco DJ who has made a name for himself, spinning out progressive trance and house for the last decade. His skills earned him the responsibility of scoring the San Francisco rave flick called Groove. The movie was lackluster, but his chronicling of the scene was a more than adequate depiction of what has kept that scene alive and kicking, making it a ground zero for progressive electronic music. His sets are entertaining and geared to get you dancing. F. VENTURA-PENA
THE REAL McKENZIES, THE VALENTINE KILLERS, THE BLOW UP
(Paradox) Vancouver, BC's the Real McKenzies take traditional musical forms and turn them into gut-ripping punk. The folk music of Ireland, Scotland, and other Celtic regions are most often singled out for this treatment; for a point of reference as to what this band does, start with the Pogues and just go on from there. The Real McKenzies are real road warriors as well, logging something like 3,000 shows so far (they claim), so expect some well-seasoned Scottish fun out of them. Also appearing are Seattle's own Valentine Killers, who are among those who prove it is possible to play punk music with a melody. GENEVIEVE WILLIAMS
THE POSIES w/MARIGOLD, ROBB BENSON (21+), w/TRACHTENBURG FAMILY SLIDESHOW PLAYERS, THE PROM (all ages)
(Crocodile) This is the first plugged-in Posies show since the "breakup," which wasn't really a breakup but a bunch of farewell shows, and then a hundred-thousand reunion-esque "Acoustic Posies" shows (intimate, nostalgic) with just Ken and Jon. Now that it's a proper show again, perhaps we need to start billing the band as "Electric Posies." Or, perhaps these talented guys could turn the acoustic/electric drama knob down (while turning the amps up) and just do what it is that Seattle loves them for: "Free Bird." JEFF DeROCHE
THE GOSSIP, THE VOGUE, THE ROULETTES
(Local 46) The Gossip has received buckets of attention since the release of last year's That's Not What I Heard (Kill Rock Stars), and features Beth Ditto, a wailingly good frontwoman who sings her face off, routinely whacks herself on the backside, and offers up infinitely more soul than one is inclined to expect from a singer in a garage band. Seattle's the Vogue is another exciting, artsy-pantsed outfit that needs to come out with something soon, because the hype the Vogue received upon the release of its Made In Mexico debut, As Brass and Satin, seems to have cooled remarkably. JEFF DeROCHE
CAUSTIC RESIN, BLACK KALI MA, HONKY
(Breakroom) Tonight's bill brings out some veterans of psychedelic rock. Boise's Caustic Resin plays swirling, guitar-driven rock, not unlike panhandle state neighbors Built to Spill (with just a touch more bite). With former Butthole Surfers bassist Jeff Pinkus on board, the three Southern gentlemen known collectively as Honky promise a night of early-ZZ Top-inspired rock and roll, while Gary Floyd (ex-Dicks, Sister Double Happiness) and his new outfit Black Kali Ma take a rocking "basic roots" approach to their tunes Ă la the Fluid, early Urge Overkill, and perhaps a smidgen of AC/DC. This is an opportunity to see a few old hands at work. NATE LEVIN
BAD BOY BILL, DONALD GLAUDE
(NAF Studios) A DJ since the age of 14, Chicago's Bad Boy Bill has been perfecting his mixing talents with hard house tactics and hiphop ethos. His sets are something of candy raver lore, propelling him to deity status in the underground, with a resume that boasts a DMC battle DJ championship and hosting a radio mix show on Chicago's WBBM. For the uninformed, Bad Boy Bill serves as a road map for those eager to get up to date on current trends in dance music. For the hardcore, this show should provide just another opportunity to get some four-on-the-floor ya-yas out. F. VENTURA-PENA
JAZZ IS DEAD
(King Cat Theater) When people die, it's little consolation that their biomass will be repurposed for new, exciting ventures like worm-feeding and daisy-pushing. So it goes with Jazz Is Dead, an all-star instrumental band whose post-jazz, quiet-storm take on the Grateful Dead is supposedly proof that jazz as we know it is mere fertilizer for a new wave of jam bands. There are certainly plenty of people who wouldn't miss jazz anyway, and Jazz Is Dead has grown popular by leading those people into a rock-oriented, crunchy, improvisational future. As for those who are not quite ready to stop mourning jazz or its rigor, you might want to avoid the King Cat on Saturday. After all, jazz may be dead, but Jerry Garcia is deader. NATHAN THORNBURGH
IDLEWILD, BRASSY, POSEUR
(Graceland) "You can't keep waiting for progress..." sings Roddy Woomble, vocalist for the soon to be pop-superstar group Idlewild. The statement rings true to the ears after one has made it through the first listen of Idlewild's second Food Records release, 100 Broken Windows. The wait is over. This record is a solid, generic pop template with a lock on pop hooks that will make boy bands scream like the little girls they're pandering to. A safe prediction says younger bands will be breaking the Radiohead code of ethics and opting for these wonderfully addicting sounds. On the other end of the spectrum, but equally exciting, is Brassy. Sure, a mix of old-school hiphop, electro, and punk may sound scary, but Brassy pulls it off with a spunk not heard since Cibo Matto and Luscious Jackson brought New York art school funk-pop to the masses. Led by Muffin Spencer, sibling of Jon Spencer, Brassy makes it clear that talent runs deep in its gene pool. The pairing of these two bands suggests that perhaps something is about to happen again in music. F. VENTURA-PENA
KELLY JOE PHELPS
(Century Ballroom) Kelly Joe Phelps is a kind of indie white acoustic blues singer without the usual cheese those words imply when in close proximity to one another. His raga-like noodlings can be gorgeously evocative of large spaces--like a sky in a Gus Van Sant film, replete with fast-motion morphing clouds. Phelps' relatively slight roadhouse mannerisms are enough to put me off, but if your taste runs to the blues, he certainly puts that Charlie Sexton/Jonny Lang kind of horse caca to shame. GRANT COGSWELL
SHAGGY
(Paramount) Who's that guy--the one who beat both the Beatles and la Lopez on this February's Billboard charts to hit at #1? Oh, just a Jamaican-born, Brooklyn-raised Desert Storm vet with a seven-month-old dancehall record, a dirty mouth, and a cheatin' heart. S0haggy's "It Wasn't Me" has managed to make a huge hit out of a song about a guy who gets caught doing the horizontal hokey-pokey with his neighbor, on camera no less, and still has the balls to tell his beleaguered lady love, "It wasn't me." Many may remember Shaggy for his distinct "dog-a-muffin" style--his gruff, heavily accented voice paired with a jazzy, R&B-inflected reggae sound--as well as his two previous big hits, "Boombastic" and a reworking of the classic "Oh Carolina." Clever Shaggs has been smart enough to spread the hits out at about one per album, thus ensuring a career that is now nearing the decade mark. Bad boyfriend, savvy artist. LEAH GREENBLATT
DOC SEVERINSEN
(Benaroya Hall) Like Kevin Eubanks, who now spends his nights as Jay Leno's guffawing bandleader, Doc Severinsen is actually a serious player who just happened to have sold his soul to the late-night television devil. Severinsen was Johnny Carson's lead trumpet and bandleader for 25 years, known more for his tasteless outfits than his chops. But that shouldn't diminish the fact that once The Tonight Show pushed him out, Doc went back to what he should have been doing all along: playing unapologetically tight swing and bop with fierce brass players and rumbling drummers. NATHAN THORNBURGH
RICHARD THOMPSON
(King Cat Theatre) Thompson is a brooding, intense, one-man breed of British, guitar-based singer/songwriter--a kind of transatlantic Bob Mould. The handful of indelible classics rendered in his bitter baritone ("1952 Vincent Black Lightning," "Shoot out the Lights," "I Feel So Good," "Wall of Death") will probably last the century. His live shows, usually at festival venues unfortunately, are something of a secret handshake. Ticket prices are high, but they always are on the Winery/Gorge/Pier circuit. The opportunity to see him play a relatively intimate space like the King Cat is well worth taking. GRANT COGSWELL
B. B. KING, COREY HARRIS
(Paramount) Despite the all-blues bill, this concert should be a study in contrasts. On the one hand, B. B. King is the heavyset electric legend, the figurehead of most of the blues' musical and marketing modernization. Corey Harris, on the other hand, is barely over 30 years old, yet he plays a strictly old-school Robert Johnson-meets-Blind Boy Fuller mix. Their style, age, and girth may differ, but both King and Harris still have the core performance talents: charisma, voice, and unerring ability to communicate the blues to all demographics. And while B. B. King remains the big kahuna, it's not inconceivable that Harris, walking forward into the past, could be the next great name of blues. NATHAN THORNBURGH
ROCKET FROM THE CRYPT, THE GO TO HELLS, THE BANGS
(Crocodile) It's been a while since San Diego's Rocket from the Crypt's recorded material has measured up to the invigorating bombast of the band's live performances. RFTC's latest album, Group Sounds, is no exception to this trend, boasting mediocre, supercharged rock that's heavy on the guitars as well as the attitude, but as far as shining moments go, showing there are none to be had. That's not what's important tonight, however, as RFTC always puts on a raucous, testosterone-driven show that makes bands like Murder City Devils and (dare I say it?) At the Drive-In look tame by comparison. KATHLEEN WILSON
