PERE UBU, NERVEWHEEL, ROLLERBALL
(Crocodile) While everyone else fixates on punk's origins spiking up from New York, L.A., and England, no one even mentions Cleveland. No one, that is, except for the fanatical Pere Ubuists, who know that the band that spawned Rocket from the Tombs (which in turn birthed the Dead Boys) came from Nowheresville, Ohio. As one of the proto-art punk acts of the mid-'70s, Pere Ubu mixed absurd lyrics with dissonant melodies, weaving a bizarre web of seemingly unstructured constructions into the pop/garage dementias dreamed up by this band. Twenty-five years after their first release, it's good to see these pioneers are still trailblazing new musical landscapes, slashing and burning the norm to make room for their musical wanderings. JOHN HANDY

FRIDAY 3/7


I ™ SHIVA FEATURING DJ REKHA
(Chop Suey) In a wonderful essay that examines the emerging cultural movement that DJ Rekha figureheads ("Desi Remix: The Plural Dance Cultures of New York's South Asian Diaspora," available online at social.chass.ncsu.edu/jouvert/v7is1/desi.htm), Professor Ashley Dawson writes: "Rekha explicitly designs her shows in a manner that will work against the forms of chauvinism that characterize spectacles of ethnic heritage such as the Diwali festival. Promotional flyers and the club website, for instance, contain no references to Indian nationalism. The visuals that accompany her shows also explicitly avoid invocations of Hindu mythology. When she and her visual mix-master do screen such images, they are placed in an explicitly satirical context. Finally, Rekha's musical mixes themselves consciously avoid the invocation of divisive regional or national affiliations.... Explicitly politicized performances such as the ones that take place at Mutiny [where DJ Rekha regularly performs] are clearly intended as a corrective to the chauvinist, heterosexist cultural nationalism that prevails in certain segments of the [Indian] community." Don't miss Rekha's set, and read the whole essay. CHARLES MUDEDE

AVEO, THE NEW MEXICANS, THE CATCH, DJ CHERRY CANOE
(Graceland) While everyone's turning to Brit pop and shoegazer for inspiration, don't forget that Aveo beat the mob by a couple of years. Their Bridge to the Northern Lights may have been recorded in a week, but the album, produced by Phil Ek, hosts jangling songs that sparkle and pop as singer/guitarist William Wilson unloads equal parts angst and wistfulness. Aveo is a dependably great live band, and when Wilson straps on the 12-string, the songs take on an incandescence that defines the trio's warm sound. KATHLEEN WILSON

DEAD MOON, GAS HUFFER, STEVE TURNER
(Tractor) Although most Mudhoney fans are used to seeing him with an electric guitar strapped to his chest, Steve Turner is quieting things down a bit with his solo project. An avid record collector who keeps up on old folk as much as punk, Turner's exercising new muscles as a singer/songwriter, coming into his own with peers like Johnny Sangster, Gerald Collier, and Marc Olsen. Stripped from all the amps and effects, he shows great strength in both his natural guitar-playing ability (this time on an acoustic) and his previously hidden voice--which comes out warm and delicate, whether he's singing about serious subjects or simply giving obscure new-wave songs a crunchy, rural coating. JENNIFER MAERZ

DJs EVIL DEE, B-MELLO
(Showbox) A'ight? continues with the realness by bringing to town Black Moon/Beatminerz's DJ Evil Dee. Dee is the mind and hands behind the certified master mix Soundbombing, which, along with Black Star's Black Star and Company Flow's Funcrusher Plus was responsible for making Rawkus Records the most influential underground label of its time (1997 to 1998). Soundbombing--which was followed by two much weaker volumes--introduced Artifacts' dazzling "Brick City Kids," a song that DJ Evil Dee produced and which had very few equals when it came out in the extraordinary hiphop year of 1997. Charles Mudede

SATURDAY 3/8


JESSE SYKES & THE SWEET HEREAFTER, LAURA VEIRS & THE TORTURED SOULS, THE MAMMALS
(Tractor) See CD Review Revue, page 42.

RÖYKSOPP
(Chop Suey) See Speaker Freak, page 47.

CLEMENTE
(Cafe Venus) Solo acoustic. See page 41.

THE Stranger's SXSW send-off w/ the catheters, the turn-ons, radio nationals, alta may, memphis radio kings
(Showbox) See Stranger Suggests, page 23.

THE GOSSIP, THE BANGS, SHOPLIFTING, SLEETMUTE
(Crocodile) Sleetmute's (AKA Sleetmute/Nightmute) consummate debut 7-inch, the maiden voyage of Nathan Howdeshell's Fast Weapons imprint, takes the timbre of their live performance and interlaces a sort of guttural depth--a sinister rumble beneath the chalkboard squelch--that exposes this so-called noise ensemble for what it really is: a serious punk-fucking-rock band. But the glory of Sleetmute's assault has little to do with recordings, as their live performance--all bodies and tangle and shrill, well... everything--is enough to remind you that there is good in this world. Oh, and another thing: Have you heard the Gossip lately? If not, forget what you think you know; the Gossip's recent set lays waste any of that shtick finger-pointing, and their upcoming record Movement is, by reports, a leveling progression. This could very well be the most important show of all time. And no, I am not kidding. ZAC PENNINGTON Also see preview, page 41.

DAMIEN JURADO, ROSIE THOMAS
(Graceland) Whether he's standing alone as a solo act or heading his band Gathered In Song, Damien Jurado is an awe-inspiring talent whose gently paced, painterly songs hang around in your brain, haunting you for days until you renew their vibrancy by spinning any one of the songwriter's wonderful albums. His 2000 release Ghost of David mows me down when I need to hear it, instilling calmness and a deep kind of grounding that I don't get from any other artist. Tonight Jurado celebrates the release of Where Shall You Take Me? (Secretly Canadian), another gorgeously written convocation of ghostly portraits and straight-to-the-heart recollections. Rosie Thomas lends her golden vocals to a handful of the songs, providing the faint echo that makes "Omaha" and "Window" so soulful. "I Can't Get Over You" shows just how lovely Jurado's voice can be as he sings up high and down low; it's the kind of track that demands immediate replay before you can go on to the rest. "Matinee" is blatant and sweetly sentimental, popping up like a buoy floating in a wash of tears. KATHLEEN WILSON

SLEEPCAPSULE, THE ONES
(Comet) After 13 years of disrespecting eardrums and breaking hearts, Seattle underground noise merchants Sleepcapsule (AKA Spacecapsule, Shitcapsule, etc.) are finally pulling the plug. Fucking kids' faces since the days when everyone first started waving their big grungy boners around this town, the Capsule leave two full-lengths and a handful of singles (Twin/Tone, Sub Pop, Re-Core) as their recorded legacy. But the live show is where the band really achieved its dubious glory. Between Rusty Nails' guitar/vocal-scree, Jeff Cle Elum's logging-truck bass and yelp-singing, and Scalp Gram's Moon-on-weed drumming, Sleepcapsule would typically send as many people running for the door as would end up writhing on the floor in overloaded audio ecstasy. Various forces are pulling the band apart (offspring; an opportunity to work for NASA), but the boys are spurting out one last performance for our pleasure, fittingly taking place at one of Seattle's few remaining institutions of old, the mighty Comet Tavern. DAN PAULUS

SUNDAY 3/9


THE PRETENDERS, ALL MIGHTY SENATORS
(Moore Theatre) Through trial and error, I've come to accept the fact that an artist's position as an established icon doesn't mean squat when it comes to judging his or her latest work. But whether or not Chrissie Hynde's latest Pretenders album pleases you is probably of little concern to the iconic singer and animal-rights activist; she's made a top-notch career of doing and saying as she pleases while snapping "Fuck off" at anyone who dares to complain. Hynde's a complex woman, to be sure, and as much as I love the first two Pretenders albums, I admire her most these days for recording the 1994 track "I'll Stand by You" (Last of the Independents), an unabashed love song and promise to her children that might be considered schlock were it not for the courage it took to release a ballad about fidelity--mid-career--when folks would rather have had her kicking ass and taking names. Essentially, though, that's just what "I'll Stand by You" was saying. The latest Pretenders album, Loose Screw, will be a small disappointment to those who can't indulge Hynde her ballads (and the reggae numbers may fall flat on the ears of many Pretenders-loving fans), but it's further proof that when it comes to her career, Hynde prefers to please herself, and fuck off to those who would begrudge her that. KATHLEEN WILSON

MONDAY 3/10


EYEDEA AND ABILITIES, THE LIVING LEGENDS, OMD FEATURING BUSDRIVER
(Chop Suey) Representing the Twin Cities, Eyedea and Abilities have a reputation for delivering competent live performances. Their studio work, however, has yet to fully arrive. They have the potential, but there's still a lot of work to do before they produce something comparable to, say, Styles of Beyond's super production 2000 Fold. But both the rapper (Eyedea) and the DJ (Abilities) are accomplished battlers--the raw guts of hiphop art (Eyedea has claimed no less than three national MC battle championships, and DJ Abilities is a DMC regional champion). If you like Rhymesayer Slug (of Atmosphere), then you will certainly like Eyedea and Abilities. CHARLES MUDEDE

STAGGER LEE, EMPIRE OF MAN, DJ COBRA
(Graceland) Featuring guitarists Quitty and Dave Harvey from Tight Bros From Way Back When, Olympia's Empire of Man does a 180 on garagey cock rock and comes back smacking of pop. The band, which also features drummer Eryn Ross (Growing) and frontman/karaoke king Will Penoyar, meshes its members' punk backgrounds with a love of Big Star, the Flamin' Groovies, and bubblegum standards in a group so new they barely have a demo. JENNIFER MAERZ

TUESDAY 3/11


JOAN OF ARC, SELDOM, DANCE IMPERATIVE
(Graceland) Yeah, you know, I just don't get it. I try, and I try, and I try again, but to me Joan of Arc always ends up a little like free jazz--I understand why people enjoy it (sort of) and I can appreciate its elements (the musicianship is impeccable, the lyrics are viscerally brilliant), but there's just something I've never been able to get past. And that thing, my friends, is a little stumbling block by the name of Tim Kinsella. Again, I'd never venture to question the genius of Kinsella's ill-strewn, diary-of-a-madman ravings, nor would I question the conviction of his clatter, but that voice--that meandering, atonal, unflinchingly consistent moan--it literally gives me a headache. With this year's So Much Staying Alive and Lovelessness, the Chicago quintet carries on in much the same vein--sublime soundtrack versus insufferable caterwaul--to the delight of disaffected twentysomethings the Midwest over. ZAC PENNINGTON

THE SEA AND CAKE, CALIFONE
(Showbox) Two of the finest American bands alive share a bill tonight, and despite the pointy trappings of their more public admirers (as well as their mutual sweet home, Chicago), both are, you'll be happy to know, essentially pop bands. This is general, but the Sea and Cake comes to pop via a schmear of jazz and experimentalism; Califone arrives by way of the blues. Between the two bands' membership is a roster of important '90s and '00s indie music--Tortoise, Red Red Meat, Loftus, the Coctails, Shrimp Boat--the kind sometimes known as "post-rock." But since that hyphenated word is meaningless (especially for Red Red Meat!) I nominate "p-rock" as an all-purpose replacement... there's nothing post about either of these bands. They play squarely in the idiom of catchy, pleasing, gentle pop. They both have excellent new records out on Thrill Jockey--S&C's One Bedroom, Califone's Quicksand/Cradlesnakes--and both are utterly delightful. SEAN NELSON

THE HOLY GHOST REVIVAL, SGT. MAJOR
(Sunset) With Kurt Bloch (Fastbacks) on guitar, Jason Finn (Presidents of the United States of America) on drums, and Jim Sangster (the Young Fresh Fellows) on bass, how could Sgt. Major be anything but a buoyant, pop-loving act? Fronted by the candy-throated Carmella (who doubles as a bartender at the Sunset), the band is heavy on harmonies and simple lyrics; Bloch writes straightforward songs that contain the innocence of a first kiss and the bliss of a sugar high. Whether or not the members sport the marching-band costumes they're wearing on their mini-CD is another matter. JENNIFER MAERZ

WEDNESDAY 3/12


COMMON, GANG STARR, TALIB KWELI
(Showbox) See preview, page 39.