THURSDAY 9/27
MARK PICKEREL AND HIS PRAYING HANDS, DANCE MUSIC FOR
DEPRESSED PEOPLE, TENNIS PRO, PARTMAN PARTHORSE, WE WROTE THE BOOK ON CONNECTORS
(Showbox) One thing I definitely don’t want to hear if I’m ever
depressed is dance music—fucking dance music is hard enough to
handle when I’m feeling pretty okay about things, let alone when I want
to open a vein or at the very least sleep for days. But
new-to-the-scene Dance Music for Depressed People aren’t obnoxiously
optimistic or boasting beats that knock holes in your skull. The
quintet—Miss G, R. Kennedy-Onasis, Lars Jurgin, Zanne Kamp, and
Foxy Moron—play sometimes spacey lo-fi pop with melodies and
harmonies that remind me as much of the Microphones (in a much more
pared down sense) as they do something a little more quirky and
simplistic like early Blow. They’re so new that tonight is their first
live show and it’s also a benefit for a friend of the band who was
recently diagnosed with “a very rare, very aggressive, and very deadly
form of brain cancer.” Definitely depressing, but Dance Music for
Depressed People will be there as aural Paxil. MEGAN SELING
FRIDAY 9/28
THE WHORE MOANS, A GUN THAT SHOOTS KNIVES, THE HOPSCOTCH BOYS, RED RAPTURE
(Blue Moon) See Stranger Suggests, page 29.
OLD TIME RELIJUN, CALVIN JOHNSON, THE LAST SLICE OF BUTTER, BRYCE PANIC
(Old Fire House, Redmond) Catharsis in Crisis is another
round of haunted moonshine stomp from K Records freak howlers Old Time
Relijun. The album is full of silver surf guitars, antimatter drones,
and bandleader Arrington De Dionyso’s psychotic animal growls and
multilingual ranting. There’s a palpable sweat and frenzy to
Catharsis in Crisis, and its songs will no doubt explode in the
live setting. Local two-piece the Last Slice of Butter play big, fast,
fuzzed-out rock driven by kinetic drumming, athletic riffs, and coldly
echoing vocals faintly reminiscent of Spencer Moody circa Smoke and
Smoke or Triumph of Lethargy. Calvin Johnson is, of course, the king of
the K Records castle as well as a golden-throated singer for such bands
as Beat Happening, Dub Narcotic Sound System, the Halo Benders, and
others; the man has 25 years (!) of songwriting to draw from for his
solo shows. ERIC GRANDY
SATURDAY 9/29
NUMBERS, INTELLIGENCE, PARTMAN PARTHORSE, FLEXIONS
(Sunset) See Stranger Suggests, page 29.
GRAND ARCHIVES, SERA CAHOONE
(High Dive) Believe it: Grand Archives are one of the best bands in
Seattle right now. Their recent Bumbershoot set saw the band debuting a
handful of songs from their forthcoming Sub Pop debut (due out in
February), and the new material hints at a poppier, more rollicking
side to the mostly mellow band found on their promising four-song EP.
Live, their harmonies sound perfect and crystalline, fragile but
bright, and with an appropriately hushed crowd, their quiet moments are
as spine-tingling as their occasional upward rushes. By this time next
year, I’d be shocked if this band were playing venues as small as the
High Dive, so now’s the time to catch them if you want bragging rights
later. ERIC GRANDY
CUT CHEMIST
(Nectar) Remember when DJ Shadow used to be good? When he’d meander
through his sets, switching up between spaced-out triphop beats and
chopped-up Nas tracks? Well, Shadow doesn’t sound like that anymore,
but his former partner in crime Cut Chemist still does. Cut
Chemist—who’s backed Jurassic 5 and Ozomatli—is one of
hiphop’s last great crate-diggers. He’s a record-store Indiana Jones,
so expect to play the “what was that last record?” game while you watch
him gracefully tear wax to shreds. His 2006 album, The Audience’s
Listening, was packed with samples of everything from Krautrock to
X-Clan, and that’s just the kind of eclecticism you can expect when he
plays live. JONAH SPANGENTHAL-LEE
SUNDAY 9/30
WARCRY, DEATHCHARGE, ROTTEN CADAVER,
SKITZOFRENIA
(CHAC) Don’t miss Portland’s Warcry tonight. Their straight-ahead
d-beat may sound good on record, but it’s nothing compared to their
brutal live show: unrelenting, fast, and angry, with lots of scowling,
yelling, and fist pumping. Vocalist Todd Burdette hails from iconic
crust band His Hero Is Gone and currently plays in Tragedy. Back in
March, I deemed Warcry’s performance to be the best at the Burning
Portland grind/crust/d-beat fest, and I stand by that. They’re just
perfect live. (P.S. to Rotten Cadaver: excellent band name.) KIM
HAYDEN
MIDLAKE, MARIA TAYLOR
(Crocodile) Three years ago, during the garage-rock-revival revival,
nobody could’ve predicted that the smooth sounds of Fleetwood Mac would
be the next cool-kids appropriation. But here we are amid a mostly
irony-free 1970s soft-rock love-fest in full bloom, with our own Fleet
Foxes taking the lead locally and Texas quintet Midlake making (a very
well-mellowed) noise on the national level. Last year’s The Trials
of Van Occupanther is a wool sweater of a record, gentle three-part
harmonies coasting alongside Vicodin-ed acoustic guitar, regal piano,
and juicy, flutey synths. It’s stark and beautiful—cold weather
music, waiting to be taken to a log cabin in the woods and warmed by a
cast-iron stove. JONATHAN ZWICKEL
(Nectar) D.Black, according to some area papers, is a “gangsta.”
Such oversimplification, though all the rage these days, does Sportn’
Life’s MC/producer/co-owner a real disservice. D.Black is a 206
street-hop institution in the making—with a bloodline as official
as it gets in the Seattle rap biosphere (being the son of one of the
town’s first MC crews), with a work ethic that shames most, and with
the entire Sportn’ Life family behind him. Even as the roster at SnL
has fluctuated, Black has remained their rock and their biggest asset,
sharpening up his skills in and out of the booth with every new release
from the Life. SnL’s currently incarcerated heavyweight MC, Fatal
Lucciauno, put out an incredible album this year containing several
brilliant moments courtesy of D, and now all eyes are on him to deliver
a knockout. May Snipes forgive me: Always bet on Black. LARRY MIZELL
JR.
THE CAN’T SEE, MOOOLS, FERAL CHILDREN
(Chop Suey) If we were all Japanese, we’d already know about Moools.
We would have seen them opening for all of our favorite American bands
in Tokyo (Modest Mouse, Deerhoof, Magic Magicians, Mirah, the
Microphones), and we’d have their psychedelic album art adorning our
walls. But we’re American and ignorant, and now’s our chance to
improve. Moools play a brand of indie rock that we would most likely
associate with the skronkier side of K Records, or maybe a poppy
Dischord release. The Microphones toured with them in Japan and covered
a Moools song on Live in Japan. Their live performance, last
seen in this neighborhood in 2003, is not to be missed. ARI SPOOL
MONDAY 10/1
MODERN LIFE IS WAR, TRAP THEM, TRASH TALK, COUNT THE HOURS,
NEVER LOOKING BACK
(El Corazón) Trap Them’s debut record, Sleepwell
Deconstructor, was totally brutal. Recorded with Converge guitarist
and engineer Kurt Ballou, it earned high marks from virtually every
metal rag around for being undeniably, awesomely tough. Their blaring
grindcore fit perfectly in Ballou’s engineering pocket, and the band
were immediately snatched up by Converge-owned label Deathwish.
Seance Prime, their forthcoming EP, also recorded with Ballou,
will be out next month. Their MySpace page claims that they are from
New Hampshire/Seattle, but this is the first bill I’ve seen them on in
town since I caught wind of them earlier this year. Here’s hoping these
somewhat local boys pulverize live as much as they do on record. JEFF
KIRBY
TUESDAY 10/2
ALIENS, AUGIE MARCH, KATE JOHNSON
(Crocodile) The electronic-tinged space-rock on the Aliens’
Astronomy for Dogs is pretty much what you’d expect from a Beta
Band offshoot. You’ve got jaunty tempos, quirky songs about robots, and
a sense that the songwriters’ core fan base is somewhere on the moons
of Jupiter. Like a 1960s pop act, they feel the need to frequently
announce their name (“We are the Aliens!”); like sci-fi dorks, they
find it necessary to make existential proclamations like “I am the
unknown.” Sharing the bill, and counterbalancing the mood with a solid
terra-firma rooting, is Australia’s Augie March. Dramatically dishing
the romantic melancholia like Damien Rice and Jeff Buckley will
undoubtedly incite swooning from the crowd, but the band’s dense sound
and fierce buildups give equal time the visceral side of humanity. JOHN
VETTESE
THE NATIONAL, ST. VINCENT
(Showbox at the Market) See Stranger Suggests, page 29.
WEDNESDAY 10/3
Wednesday morning, 3:00 a.m.