PHO BANG: Zeigenbock Kopf, PANTHER
(Re-bar) See preview, page 41.
JACOB LONDON, PHILLIP ENO
(Baltic Room) Considering the relatively small size of the local techno/house/electronica community, it's impressive that Seattle-based Jacob London (Dave Pezzner and Bob Hansen) recently signed to and released a 12-inch on Derrick Carter and Luke Solomon's highly regarded Chicago-based techno label, Classic Music. But no amount of reason can explain why a high-tech city like ours (which is soon to have a huge science-fiction museum, even) has a small techno/house/electronica scene in the first place. Why is rock more popular than electro? Why don't more young people who slave at high-tech places like Microsoft, AT&T Wireless, and T-Mobile listen to the high-tech sounds of Jacob London? CHARLES MUDEDE
THE POSTAL SERVICE, CEX, THE FITNESS
(Crocodile) When I first heard Cex--a skinny little indie-rock-looking dude doing the white-rapper thing over IDM beats--he was dancing and jerking around the Baltic Room floor. In a word, he was a pure entertainer, making quite a spectacle of himself (in a good way). Now Cex has released two new albums, Being Ridden and Being Ridden Instrumentals, that further his indie-kid hiphop career with cinematic soundtrack samples and rhymes that flip so fast, sometimes it's hard to keep up with everything he's trying to get across. Headliners the Postal Service should be familiar to anyone who's turned on KEXP or shopped at Urban Outfitters lately. Their ultimately catchy debut, Give Up, is playing everywhere in Seattle and hooked me immediately with its irresistible mix of ebullient blips and beats buoying dark lyrics of extended heartache. Openers the Fitness do the snotty electroclash thing, with male and female vocalists trading off fashionista-conscious barbs. JENNIFER MAERZ
COBER, HYPATIA LAKE, THE LIGHTS
(Graceland) Certain publications (the New York Times, anyone?) have recently been spotted touting the diversity of the "new" Seattle music scene. I'd call this a stretch, except that shows like this one keep popping up to prove me wrong. Headliners Cober play gothic rock with nary a hint of irony, while Hypatia Lake fall somewhere between the edgier moments of Spiritualized and the pensive dirges of Slowdive. (These boys know their effects pedals: The band's forthcoming debut on Sad Robot, Your Universe, Your Mind, is laced with enough reverbed guitar to flatten a small Chihuahua.) Openers the Lights are a chaotic explosion of noise and Jon Spencer posturing; a new record is forthcoming on Bop Tart, so you may want to start building resistance now. TIZZY ASHER
MINES, TREASURE STATE
(Showbox Green Room) The bands making up this bill take indie rock and give it expanse and imagination. Mines are the more playful of the two, showcasing co-singers Chad Hanson and Ron Lewis' diverse vocal styles. Hanson's is frenetic, while Lewis is the pensive crooner. Treasure State's approach is to fill the expanse with layers of sound as vocalist Rob Mercer's evocative lyrics add to the drama. KATHLEEN WILSONFRIDAY 5/2
BENEFIT FOR THE ROCK 'N' ROLL CAMP FOR GIRLS FEATURING THE BANGS, THE STUCK-UPS, MS. LED, THE CATCH
(Vera Project) See Underage, page 49.
RC5, THE EARACHES, THE HEART ATTACKS, THE GUN STREET GIRLS
(Crocodile) What a Friday night full of heavy AND tight! Damn. Dig, we got the "ain't they pretty enough to be on MTV?" RC5 (who, by the way, got themselves a new rockin' EP--Run Baby Run), the leather, bristles, studs, and Earaches, AND the achy breaky Heart Attacks. Not enough? FINE... for some betwixt-bands entertainin', there'll be the treats of the swingin', swangin', SWUNG... them girls got GUNS, yes, that F-U-N which is the FABULOUS Gun Street Girls... the Emerald Shitty's ultimate leggy burlesque faves who've been known, on occasion, to throw pieces of delicious Kentucky Fried out for the hungry throngs of fans. MIKE NIPPER
HARKONEN, THE SCHEME, NIHILIST, CARMENZITO
(Old Fire House) Although their newest Hydra Head album is jokingly titled after a Simpsons line (Shake Harder Boy), Harkonen's music is serious business. Midtempo, sludgy riffs land on you like barrels of wet cement, while the cord-snapping vocals bring hellfire down on songs like "Your Name Is Shit." The Tacoma band walks the line between metal and hardcore well, and--along with acts like Akimbo, the Whip, and Playing Enemy--tangles punk energy up in badass metal weaponry. JENNIFER MAERZ
DIRTY THREE, LAURA VEIRS, NATE DENVER'S NECK
(Showbox) There are instrumental bands that play music without lyrics, and there are instrumental bands that use instruments to provide lyrics. Unless you're totally thick, it's impossible to listen to Dirty Three without hearing characters speak within the music--and that's a charm unique to Dirty Three, completely unmatched by any other band. Each instrument says something in its distinctive voice--Warren Ellis' expressive violin is capable of raising fist-shaking holy hell or narcotizing the listener in preparation for Mick Turner's emotion-filled guitar. Drummer Jim White anchors the musical screenplay with jazzy rhythm that often voices the band's most intelligent character. KATHLEEN WILSON
NO. 13 BABY, ZERO STATION, SOCIETY CLUB
(Sunset) No. 13 Baby are a kickass Pixies cover group. Some would even say they outperform the real Pixies. And even if they don't (I never saw the Pixies perform), they're still damn good. They're playing tonight at the Sunset Tavern, along with Society Club, a brand-new act that's excited to play this show--their biggest yet. They're adorable, and they play good music, too. AMY JENNIGES
SATURDAY 5/3
A-FRAMES, FM KNIVES, THE PULSES
(Zak's) See preview, page 45, and Stranger Suggests, page 25.
WIMBLEDON (CD RELEASE), VIA, LAMPLIGHTER, THE DUTCH FLAT, MINES
(Crocodile) With its revived popularity and current progression, math rock has taken the occasion to loosen up a bit, resulting in an angular pop that, in Wimbledon's case, encompasses orchestral flourishes and whimsical vocals. Call it smartly paced indie rock, sparkling math, purposeful pop--Wimbledon transcends precise categorization. Tonight the band celebrates the release of Cumershl, a buoyant debut on Beep Repaired Records that starts out lithe but becomes magnetic in its last two tracks. KATHLEEN WILSON
ZEKE, CAMAROSMITH, the JET CITY FIX, DIRTY POWER
(Graceland) So right now I'm listening to the Jet City Fix for the first time ever--it's their new record Play to Kill, which was just released on King Bee/Infect Records. The comparisons to the Briefs I've heard would be believable if the Briefs were a little snottier. And if they were heavier, with less punk and more rock (but still a little punk). Okay, wait, it's a different song now and this song is a little more pop than the last one, almost like early Ataris, but with guitar solos and a stronger beat. Maybe that Briefs comparison ain't so far off. Spoke too soon--here's a "ballad." By ballad I mean a song about wanting the girl back. I hate those songs, so I'll skip it. Okay, now we're back on the rock track. A dirty-soundin' song about work and not wantin' to do it. I give up, this CD is completely schizophrenic. Makes me wonder what their live performance is like. I hear they're nuts. MEGAN SELING
THE SKATALITES, MONIQUE POWELL (OF SAVE FERRIS)
(UW) The Skatalites are of course the gods of ska, a musical form which had yet another (and its weakest) resurgence in the mid-'90s. Founded at the very moment that modern Jamaican pop was coming into shape, 1964, the once 11-piece band continues to tour with three of its original members. But, really, where does one start or end with the Skatalites? Their still-expanding galaxy of songs ("Simmer Down," "Ska La Parisienne," "World's Fair," "James Bond Theme"); those big, bright horns and running (not walking) bass lines (that were created in the '70s to cool down to a reggae pace); their tight suits and soul voices. You don't start or end with the Skatalites, but succumb to the eternal return of their chop, chop, chop. CHARLES MUDEDE
SUNDAY 5/4
I'm sorry, but it wasn't what you thought.
MONDAY 5/5
TOMAHAWK, THE MELVINS, SKELETON KEY
(Showbox) After a five-year hiatus (most of the members also play in Enon), Skeleton Key released Obtanium, the long-awaited follow-up to 1997's Fantastic Spikes Through Balloon and the propulsive, sadly hard to replace, self-titled debut EP (had it, loaned it, never saw it again...). Though not as cacophonic or explosive as past material, the songs on Obtanium still blend anger and attitude in a compelling formulation. Often serving as an opening act to headline-grabbers, it's time this San Diego band got its equal share of ink. KATHLEEN WILSON See preview, page 43.
ALL-AMERICAN REJECTS, WAKEFIELD, GUESTS
(Graceland) "Swing, swing, swing from the tangles of, my heart is crushed by a former love...." Don't front, you've heard that All-American Rejects song "Swing, Swing" and you've had it stuck in your head for days on end. You even like that it was stuck in your head--it's a fun, catchy song. It's okay, you can admit it, I'm right there with you! The Rejects have already taken over MTV2, and they're starting to hit the mainstream. If they keep their shit together they can escape the grips of an infamous "one-hit wonder" tag, because the rest of their self-titled debut album is actually pretty okay. They're just mixing the new brand of "emo-rock" with keyboards, but if they keep with it they could be good, maybe even really good! If they let the machine eat them, however, they're doomed to be every 13-year-old girl's flavor of the week and will be vomited back into the gutter by June. MEGAN SELING
TUESDAY 5/6
MR. LIF, NORMAN (CD RELEASE), QUIVAH, DJ KITMAN
(Chop Suey) One critic described Def Jux's Mr. Lif as "a thinking Noam Chomsky with a beat." This is pretty accurate. His EP Emergency Rations confronted the antiterrorism propaganda machine that has fueled all our recent wars with the same dedication and directness that has made Chomsky a hero (if not God) of the radical left. This is the beauty of hiphop, or at least the kind of underground hiphop that Mr. Lif represents. It's still willing to say something important, and not because the period or time is exceptional, as is the case with the Dixie Chicks, but because hiphop at its best and at its roots has always been more than the CNN of streets. It is the streets' journals of philosophy, critical theory, economics, and politics as well. Mr. Lif's raps will keep you well informed. CHARLES MUDEDE
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS, AMY MILES
(Crocodile) Don't front. Underneath all of your elaborate indie rock affectations, I know what you are. I can see you coming from a mile away. Because you, my friend, are nothing more than a self-consciously closeted They Might Be Giants fan. The first record you ever bought of your own accord was Flood. You know all the words to "Fingertips," and can recite them verbatim at will. And though you've been careful to do away with your once vast collection of EPs and singles (not to mention all of those Dial-a-Song bootlegs) in the off chance that you will be unmasked for what you really are, you know you still love them. So don't front. Just go see them. ZAC PENNINGTON
BAD RELIGION, THE casualties, hotty potty
(Moore Theatre) I was going to go on about who Bad Religion are and why they're important (and totally awesome), but chances are you already know, seeing as how the punk band has been around since the '80s. But maybe you don't know. Maybe you have no idea how blistering Bad Religion's songs can be. Maybe you've never heard Greg Graffin's smart and sometimes smart-ass lyrics. And just maybe you've happened to miss the band's very tight, very kick-ass live show. If you don't know Bad Religion now, chances are you never will. That's a bummer for you. MEGAN SELING
WEDNESDAY 5/7
THE SADIES, LIZZIE WEST, GERALD COLLIER
(Tractor) See preview, page 44.
THE GIRLS
(Chop Suey) See preview, page 44.
UNSANE, THE WHIP, JJ PARADISE PLAYERS CLUB, YOUR CELL: YOURSELF
(Graceland) Don't forget your earplugs tonight! Unsane and the JJ Paradise Players Club are bringing a big heaping dose of stoner-fried noise rock courtesy of NY City. The JJ Paradise Players Club put out an amazing release on Tee Pee a year or so back, and the low-end bass attack really sets the tone. Live, well, that brings it into a whole new realm. And then there's Unsane, who made former local bands like Botch (who I never really dug myself) seem less original or mind-blowing. Unsane covered all of the noise rock of originators like the Swans and Foetus and added some choice riffs. Light up, plug in, and rock out. Willie Crane
