THURSDAY 2/1

TRIUMPH OF LETHARGY SKINNED ALIVE TO DEATH, DAS LLAMAS, LOVING THUNDER
(High Dive) Loving Thunder are the bass and drums (not drum 'n' bass) project from Cobra High's Colin Roper and Feral Children's Jeff Keenan; a fuzzed-out, bottom-heavy rock monster whose setup, name, and sound suggest that other meteorological duo, Lightning Bolt, as well as local brown-sounders Karp and Godheadsilo. These are not at all bad influences to wear on one's sleeve, and Loving Thunder wear them well. They also have the distinction of having played the first ever (last ever?) show at Seattle's Cha Cha lounge, and it was a hell of performance. Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death are equally distinguished, but where Loving Thunder trade in aural onslaught, TOLSATD deliver their sinister blows with subtler force and more sparing noise. Das Llamas' darkly charged postpunk should serve as a suitable bridge between the two bands. ERIC GRANDY

DEERHOOF, BLACK BLACK, LETI ANGEL
(Neumo's) Deerhoof's live shows are one of the few concert experiences that actually approach something like transcendence. Their music, when amplified and live, is spine-tingling, skin-crawling stuff. Some bands' physiological impact might get lost in the cavernous room at Neumo's, but Deerhoof's expansive sound could fill up a black hole, let alone a high-ceilinged club. Of course, their live shows are also notable for Satomi Matsuzaki's bizarre, almost condescending broken-English hand-jive routines, such an expected staple of their act that an astute fan should have all her moves down pat by now. But now that the band are a trio it seems unlikely that Matsuzaki will have much time for comic gestures. Deerhoof redux still have an awesome sound to produce, and half the fun at this show will be seeing how their streamlined incarnation pulls it off. ERIC GRANDY See also CD reviews, page 43.

FRIDAY 2/2

MENOMENA, S, SIBERIAN
(Crocodile) For years now, critics have touted Portland-based hip-pop band Menomena as the next big thing in indie rock. Well, it's 2007 and Menomena are still one of stump town's best-kept secrets. But after an amicable adieu to their erstwhile label FILMGuerrero, Menomena have settled in nicely with indie-heavyweight Barsuk records. And with the band's label debut, Friend and Foe, receiving critical acclaim after only its first couple weeks on the shelves, this could easily be the year when all the cool hunters cash in big (Pitchfork gave it an almost pristine 8.5 rating). But don't forget Menomena—they're just three charming dudes who've been chugging along, keeping it real amid all the hype over the last few years. With a crafty, oddly lilting new record under their belt, Menomena may now be ready to take on the rest of the world. STEVEN SAWADA

GET DRESSED, GRAND HALLWAY, ELBA
(Ground Zero) Tomo Nakayama's goose-bumps-inducing voice was what made the now-defunct Asahi so great. Their gentle song structures, bursting with both beauty and sadness, were always so carefully composed with lots of tender attention, but it was Nakayama's voice that caused the shivers—delicate, sad, and gorgeous. Grand Hallway are the new project featuring Nakayama, and he's joined by Erik Neumann, Bob Roberts, and Jeramy Koepping. Like Asahi, Grand Hallway are jaw-droppingly beautiful, but they're also a bit more, er, grand—the compositions are sturdier, the melodies are even more sweeping, and Nakayama's voice feels stronger and more present in the mix of well-crafted orchestras of piano and strings. It's as though he's embraced just how much talent he has and is no longer afraid of flaunting it. A few weeks ago we declared Grand Hallway one of the local bands to adore in 2007, and so far they're making it really difficult, nay, impossible, to do anything but cherish their efforts. MEGAN SELING

THE TRUCKS, NO-FI SOUL REBELLION, THE BELTHOLES
(Jules Maes) Sometimes Seattle, and by extension Bellingham, can be retarded—not crippled or differently abled, but retarded in the literal sense—we're way out in the woods here, and sometimes we can be a little slow. Witness the belated local death of electroclash, a genre that was elsewhere abandoned years ago even by its most enthusiastic (coked-up?) supporters. The Trucks aim for Avenue D's raunch or Peaches' double entendres—it's all titty-twisting and heavily made-up innuendos laid over drum-machine beats and dirty faux-analog synths with these girls—but they somehow end up sounding more like a foul-mouthed, disco remix of the Catch. They occasionally manage some inspired pop moments, but overall the neon-striped tights and explicitly empowered swagger are a bit tired. But with Spin, MySpace, and those aforementioned tights in their corner, the Trucks may still prove unstoppable. ERIC GRANDY

SATURDAY 2/3

FERAL CHILDREN, SHIM, SUNDAY NIGHT BLACKOUT, THE EARACHES
(High Dive) See preview, page 33.

JAMES BROWN TRIBUTE FEATURING BIG WORLD BREAKS
(Nectar) It's a séance. Can you hear us, Godfather? We will assemble at Nectar to enter the funk trance. We chant, "Soul Brother Number One," and our Ouija board becomes the dance floor. Big World Breaks (of One Family Inc.)—Seattle hiphop's backing band—will relay the King James Brown message and music through mediums Gabriel Teodros, SoulChilde, Amos Miller, Bruce Illest, Jumaane Smith, GodSpeed, and DJ BlesOne. The Massive Monkees and BYC breakdance crews will conjure with agility and put their spin on the dearly departed Minister of the New New Super Heavy Funk. Spirits will be roused; things may float across the room during this night of apparitions, headstands, and the music of James Brown provided by the hiphop conjunction of One Family Inc. TRENT MOORMAN See also My Philosophy, page 46.

OM, THE GRAILS
(Neumo's) Om are the thinking person's metal band. Their vocabulary—full of arcane terms and lofty, archaic syntax—is heavier than most bands in the genre's riffage. Consisting of former Sleep bassist Al Cisneros and drummer Chris Hakius, Om generate a stoned, enlightened density similar to that of their old band, but with more low-end tectonics. On Om's Variations on a Theme, Cisneros intones abstruse lyrics like an oracular Ozzy while uncoiling serpentine bass lines that could support the Golden Gate Bridge. Hakius's riveting fills, deft cymbal play, and subtly funky timekeeping buttress his bandmate's heraldic dirges. For Conference of the Birds (2006), Om aerate the tarry atmospheres of Variations for a lighter but no less intense ganja-rock experience. Come witness a new genre: thunderous thesaurus rock. DAVE SEGAL

A-FRAMES, NEW FANGS, PHANTOM LIGHTS
(Funhouse) Anyone aware of New Fangs' jittery, turbulent approach to postpunk goodness will be bummed to learn that this will be the Seattle quartet's final show. Evidently the split is "more than amicable," so expect both crowd and band to go apeshit, and the former to buy out every last copy of Bayonets, 'cause after tonight that's gonna be the only way to hear them. If you've caught one of the many Fangs shows over the last few years, though, you'll no doubt want to be right up front spilling beer on yourself and everything, just to bear witness. GRANT BRISSEY

STRIKE ANYWHERE, SINKING SHIPS, SHOOK ONES, SUNSET RIDERS
(Hell's Kitchen, Tacoma) The best thing about average but nationally respected hardcore bands touring through Seattle (or in this case, Tacoma), is that it gives us another chance to check out some of the really stellar acts that exist within our own little Pacific Northwest borders. Strike Anywhere are coming all the way from Virginia to headline tonight's show, and you know, people seem to like Strike Anywhere just fine. But it's our local boys—Sinking Ships and the Shook Ones—who are probably gonna own the evening. Both Revelation superstars are armed with their own style of singalongable and melodic hardcore, and they deliver the goods with wicked amounts of enthusiasm and precision. Expect a lot of sweat and smiles. MEGAN SELING

SUNDAY 2/4

ZS, PILLOW FIGHT FIGHT!, GUESTS
(ArtWorks) It stands as testament to the awesome cultural electricity of the 20th century that presently, as its uncertain successor finds feet, bands are creating themselves to operate in various genres and mediums with such artistic rapaciousness. One of the more remarkable bands presently traversing the experimental punk/noise/modern classical/free jazz schema is Brooklyn's Zs. With twin guitars, saxophone, and drums, they employ themselves both as a self-directed art-rock band and as a chamber ensemble in the service of such 20th-century classical heavyweights as Christian Wolff and Earle Brown. Their own music evokes a sort of rock-hypnotic distillation of various precedents (minimalism, the line-form music of jazz composer Anthony Braxton, etc.) with long, full-band-unison lines and occasional flurries of Boredoms-esque ecstasy. SAM MICKENS

MONDAY 2/5

JACK'S MANNEQUIN, HEAD AUTOMATICA, THE AUDITION, GET BACK LORETTA
(Showbox) Crap Automatica. ERIC GRANDY

TUESDAY 2/6

DAUGHTRY, EVE TO ADAM, CINDER ROAD
(Neumo's) My favorite scathing review of late was given to Jet by Pitchfork. At a loss for words to describe the record's awfulness, the reviewer just posted a video clip of a monkey peeing in its own mouth. This, sadly, is the first image that came to mind upon hearing former American Idol castoff Chris Daughtry's self-titled effort. Sure, the record debuted at number two and, compared to the likes of Clay Aiken or Taylor Hicks, Daughtry is a "sexy rocker," but I'll break it to you not so gently: If you are over 14 and purchased tickets to this show, you, my friend, are a monkey. A monkey patiently waiting for another monkey to fill your mouth with Creed-flavored pee. MA'CHELL DUMA LAVASSAR

WEDNESDAY 2/7

DOSH, FOSCIL, THE KINDNESS KIND
(Chop Suey) See Data Breaker, page 55.

SARAH SHANNON, CARRIE AKRE
(Triple Door) Sometimes a little time off is good for the soul. That's certainly the case for former Velocity Girl Sarah Shannon, who's celebrating the release of her second solo album tonight. Shannon released her self-titled solo debut five years ago, then promptly dropped out of sight. In the ensuing years, she's started a family and rediscovered the joy of making music. It shows in spades in City Morning Song, which is being released by Minty Fresh. Like many of her labelmates, Shannon excels in breezy, Bacharachian pop—a world populated by sunny melodies and orchestral flourishes. It's an arena that allows her strongest asset—her voice—to shine bright and clear, and she's chosen the perfect venue (the grown-up, sophisticated Triple Door) as the setting to debut these lovely new songs. BARBARA MITCHELL