THE PALE, PAPERBACK, AMY BLASCHKE
(Crocodile) I'm not sure what's in the water up in Bellingham, but if you could pinpoint and bottle it you'd stand to make a lot of cash (or at least make a substantial contribution to the quantity of good music out there). The Pale are the latest entry in the "destined to be your new favorite intelligent/sensitive pop band that just happens to be from Baja Canada" category. Sounding somewhere along the lines of Death Cab for Cutie-meets-the Prom, these guys have been quietly winning over fans, racking up local sales, getting airplay everywhere from KEXP to KNDD to Star 101.5 (!?!), and amassing the kind of organic buzz that makes you know they've got what it takes to back it all up. Catch 'em now, while you can still pretend that you were there first. Barbara Mitchell
FRIDAY 8/15
COLIN BLUNSTONE AND ROD ARGENT OF THE ZOMBIES, THE MINUS 5, THE VELLS
(Crocodile) See preview, page 37.
COBRA HIGH, SUSHIROBO, ROOTS OF ORCHIS, LANDS FARTHER EAST
(Old Fire House) See preview, page 45.
HINT HINT, TOURIST, PROBLEM WITH HEROES, DJ JOHNNY MAYDAY
(Lady Mary) See Stranger Suggests, page 23.
NORDIC, TERROR SHEETS, HYPATIA LAKE, DEBORAH BARTLEY
(Sunset) See preview, page 43.
ME INFECTO, FREE VERSE, DISCHARGE INFORMATION SYSTEM
(Rendezvous) I met Andy, the drummer for Discharge Information System, at the Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Girls, where she was teaching an adoring crew of young ladies how to express their musical inklings. Judging from DIS's eponymous CD, the woman has a lot to offer. The band is a murky instrumental metal duo that combines guitar and drums (and sometimes cello and drums) to forge a sound that moves between grand, sludgy riffs and tighter, more agile passages with angular spikes accented at times by somber classical cuts. As is the case with Seattle's Me Infecto, sometimes it only takes two people to make a heavy, haunting sound. JENNIFER MAERZ
BJĂ–RK, guests
(Pier 62/63) Nobody has ever uttered the phrase, "Oh, Björk? I could take or leave her...." Civil wars start over differences of opinion slighter than those between her fans and detractors. Which means you have either already expended insane amounts of time and energy trying to snag tickets to this concert, which sold out faster than you can say "Gudmundsdottir," or skipped this preview. As for those of you whose hopes of attending this rare Seattle appearance were dashed in a matter of seconds, fear not. This past Tuesday saw the release of the four-CD, one-DVD set Live: 1993--2002. So while everyone else is jostling around the crowded pier, you can enjoy not one but four diverse, full-length performances (plus five live videos), without straining your neck or getting hateful looks from hardcore acolytes when you dare crack wise about whatever ridiculous getup she hits the stage in this time. Kurt B. Reighley
ROSIE THOMAS, STEVE TURNER, BEN LONDON
(Sunset, early) Tonight's happy-hour show featuring Sanford Arms singer Ben London, Rosie Thomas, and Mudhoney's Steve Turner is a benefit for sweetie-pie local producer Martin Feveyear, who was hit on his vintage motorcycle by an uninsured driver. Proceeds will go toward large insurance deductibles and restoration of the bike that had been in Feveyear's family for 40 years. KATHLEEN WILSON
THE LIGHTS, THE FAMILIARS, THE SENATE ARCADE, INTERNATIONAL BUSINESSMEN
(Downtown YMCA) The last time I saw the Familiars perform, the singer (the only of-age dude in the band) suffered the tauntings of a spikes 'n' studs punk crew who didn't appreciate the group's '70s-influenced garage rock act. One detractor even went so far as to spit beer at the shirtless singer--so much liquid that when the frontman threw himself on the floor (as usual) minutes later, there was enough of a pool for him to slurp the spat-out booze off the floor (of Zak's!) and spit it back at the punk kids. Needless to say, they left him alone for the rest of the night. I still don't know whether that move was punk, stupid, or just really gross, but if I were that guy I'd still be gargling with peroxide. JENNIFER MAERZ
SATURDAY 8/16
HELIO SEQUENCE, COBRA HIGH, ANNA OXYGEN
(Graceland, late) See preview, page 47.
BENT KACTIS, THE EVALUATION, THE FALL OF TROY, FIVE GOOD REASONS, POINT NO POINT, PISTOL FOR A PAYCHECK, THE JET CITY FIX, POST STARDOM DEPRESSION, AND MORE
(Brick House) See Underage, page 53.
EVE 6, STAGE, AM RADIO
(Graceland, early) Sure, their hairstyles may have gone downhill since the last album, but after listening to It's All In Your Head, it's obvious that the boys in Eve 6 have grown more than just curls. Without entirely abandoning the bouncy punk or sentimental pop feel that made songs like "Inside Out" and "Here's to the Night" instant hits, the band's latest incarnation has matured, moving beyond teen angst and want-the-girl jingles into darker, more thoughtful territory. More important to you, the new material seems written with the stage in mind. Combined with a touring bassist to allow frontman Max Collins more crowd interaction, that makes Saturday's show a sure winner. Besides, what else can you do for six bucks? I suppose you could always see a matinee of Finding Nemo, but if I'm going to spend hours in a dark room with screaming children, I'd rather it was a concert. JAMES SUTTER
ALARMIST, THE WEEGS, GROWING
(Luscious) Growing are less a band than a tactile experience--vibrations rumble through floorboards and ring out in your guts, doubling the overload in your ears. If Growing were a landscape, they'd be an avalanche defacing Mount Rushmore; if they were a Photoshop effect, they'd be Gaussian Blur. Born out of the increasingly heavy drones of 1000 AD and BlackManWhiteManDeadMan, this Olympia trio mines the tonal layers of guitar and bass effect while practicing an almost sculptural approach to sound, dense and deceptively beautiful. Chicago's Kranky label snatched up the Growing album based on a demo, sight unseen, a surprising move to those familiar with the band's hardcore background (Joe Denardo was a partner in the avant-tard label Thin the Herd) and the immediacy of its live show--but the pairing is a testament to the expansive nature of Growing's sensory experiments. Oakland's Weegs are a keyboard-heavy quartet that manages to sound like the more sinister moments of Crispy Ambulance while plodding through simple punk paradigms. Weegs aren't quite goth, nor indie, nor damaged, but a comfortable and familiar triangulation of those vectors. Someone described Alarmist as "Portland--on all fours." With Sincere Brutality mastermind James Squeaky at the helm, one would expect no less. Break out the kneepads. George Chen
THE MAKERS, MIDNIGHT THUNDER EXPRESS, WHITE HEAT
(Crocodile) It's been a little while since the Makers played Seattle, and it may be a little while again, as tonight's show marks the band's mini-farewell (for the time being) to their drummer, Jim Chandler, who has been swooped up by Lux Interior and Poison Ivy to help the Cramps tour through Europe. Send him off in style with a show that also includes local rockers Midnight Thunder Express and the White Heat, a Texas act that sounds like MTE with a little more Turbonegro influence in their chanted choruses (but minus all the perverse sexual innuendoes). JENNIFER MAERZ
DAVE GAHAN, KENNA
(Paramount) Depeche Mode frontman Dave Gahan has been through a lot in his 41 years. After rising to arena-sized fame and taking on the posture of Jesus in the infamous Anton Corbijn-directed video for "I Feel You," Gahan became addicted to heroin and threw his life in the dumpster. Slit wrists landed him in the booby hatch before the inevitable speedball caused an overdose--paramedics had to revive the singer three times before he was stabilized. With a brand-new solo album released on Mute called Paper Monsters, Gahan now appears to have his shit together. As is to be expected from a Brit-bandleader-recovering-heroin-addict with a wife and new baby, the album is a bit heavy with meaningful ballads (must it always be the case?!), but the bluesy rock songs (reminiscent of "Personal Jesus") are pretty good. Expect to hear Gahan perform Depeche Mode classics along with the new stuff. KATHLEEN WILSON
W.I.T., DJ LARRY TEE, THE FITNESS, UNITED STATE OF ELECTRONICA, COLBY
(Chop Suey) Enough, all right? Wasn't it bad enough that W.I.T. were the worst act on the last Electroclash™ tour, where artists with actual skill and creative vision--like Tracy & the Plastics, Peaches, and Chicks on Speed--made them look as entertaining as a couple of window mannequins in a Williamsburg boutique? Now they have to come back and flog the dead hype horse, carcass padded with long-gone gushing over the electroclash revolution, a buzz that should be saved for the artists who actually add something to the mix instead of parading around a vapid sound and an empty display of fashion sense. W.I.T. are the electro act for the hipster lemmings who didn't realize that cliff was abandoned long ago. JENNIFER MAERZ
SUNDAY 8/17
?UESTLOVE, VITAMIN D
(Baltic Room) See the Truth, page 51.
N.E.R.D., O.A.R., THE ROOTS, TALIB KWELI, ROBERT RANDOLPH & THE FAMILY BAND, SKILLZ, KELIS, GUESTS
(White River Amphitheatre) Every time I hear Kelis I get an erection (which is why I can't listen to her while on the bus or at any other public place). Her voice is all sex. In this respect, she is much like Donna Summers--the sexiest singer in the history of humankind. Formally trained in classical and jazz in high school, and, like all great soul singers, informally trained in the choir, Kelis, who is from Harlem, came into fame for a brief moment four or so years ago with the song "Caught Out There," which was produced by the then ascending Neptunes. She also sang the sugary chorus on Ol' Dirty Bastard's "Got Your Money," another Neptunes production. Though the work she has done with the Neptunes is great, her best and most erotic song ever is with German techno wizard Timo Maas. The song, "Help Me," which opens his CD Loud, awakens the most unspeakable, wolflike passions in my soul. The way Kelis pleads for someone to help her while she's being abducted by UFOs, beckoned to Earth by Maas' warped samples of Bernard Herrmann's soundtrack to The Day the Earth Stood Still, makes me want to get on all fours and howl at the moon (which, again, is why I can't play the song in public). Charles Mudede
GRAIG MARKEL + VERSES ON VENUS
(ToST) As doctors puzzle over the preponderance of babies appearing in local hospitals come mid-May of next year, Graig Markel will be gleefully rubbing his hands together at the success of his plot to infiltrate bedrooms across the city. Last year's The Gospel Project was a silky collection of neo-soul that taunted scenesters with its unrelenting, sexy grooves (complete with horns and deep, throbbing bass lines). When Markel performs live, he's generally less polished and more inclined toward singer/songwriter introspection, but his brokenhearted ethos and dedication to the search for new love can still launch an entire room into hip-swiveling flirtation sessions. Given that the Fremont folks seem to enjoy breeding, with a month-long residency at ToST, Markel should find himself a new and particularly receptive audience. Tizzy Asher
HAZARD COUNTY GIRLS, XXX AUDIO, THE SUPERSTARS OF THE BWF
(Sunset) There's a gothic darkness in New Orleans' Hazard County Girls. I'm not talking black lipstick and unrequited crushes on Robert Smith; this is more of a bedroom-eyed gothic sensibility, one that conjures images of chain-smoking to Birthday Party discs in a dimly lit corner and feeling a sharp mix of serious brooding and steely resolve. The female trio's debut, Never No More, showcases heavy-lidded vocal harmonies and rock 'n' roll that saunters instead of coming out swinging, a sound that alludes to skeletons in every closet between the lines of every song. When frontwoman Christy Kane warns, "Your tracks are loose; your engine, bound to fail... you're doing it to yourself," you can feel her subject matter sliding down a path of self-destruction. Matching them up with the Superstars of the BWF--Ballard's campy wrestling effort where masked characters throw down on the Sunset stage--may lead to some unusual mood swings, but Hazard County should be well worth the emotional battle. JENNIFER MAERZ
MONDAY 8/18
My life is leading to bumdom.
TUESDAY 8/19
We're like a polished turd version of rock and roll.
WEDNESDAY 8/20
THE RUBY DOE, THE SPITS, GUESTS
(Mars Bar) See Live Wire, page 49.
MAMMAL, VIKI, DISPLAY, DOOMSDAY 1999
(The Haunt) See Live Wire, page 49.
MARC OLSEN, JOEL R. L. PHELPS AND THE DOWNER TRIO, TREASURE STATE, MINES
(Crocodile) See preview, page 47.
