BUTTROCK VS. NEW WAVE KARAOKE PARTY
(Chop Suey) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.
VERONA, IN PRAISE OF FOLLY, ARKADE, KIDCRASH
(Crocodile) Verona has been kicking around for several years, playing good shows and slowly earning an audience. They have now made a really strong debut LP that showcases their intricate two-guitar arrangements and singer Kyle Logghe's heroically high vocals. It kind of sounds like the record you always wished Juno would make: epic in scope but finely honed, equal parts gentility and bombast--the same components that make their live show so commanding and impressive. SEAN NELSON
EUCLID, TRANSMISSIONARY SIX, THE STARES
(Conor Byrne) Terri Moeller and Paul Austin are the core of Seattle act the Transmissionary Six. Austin cofounded New England gloom-meisters Willard Grant Conspiracy; Moeller is the drummer in the Walkabouts, an ensemble 10 times more popular in Germany than here at home. Moody? Hell yeah. With a catch in her throat, Moeller's husky singing imparts a dramatic edge--and requisite gravity--that anchors the stark lyrics and spacious arrangements of their new CD, Get Down. The album spotlights Austin's acoustic guitar, embellished by vibraphone, field recordings, Wurlitzer organ, and viola (courtesy of Anne Marie Ruljanchich of Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter). Their duo's third full-length, helmed by atmospheric producer Tucker Martine, was cut last summer, but makes a very suitable soundtrack for the transition from this waning, glorious autumn into the chilly winter months ahead. KURT B. REIGHLEY
FRIDAY 12/3
KANE HODDER, MON FRERE, SCHOOLYARD HEROES, FALL OF TROY
(Vera Project) See All Ages Action, page 59.
THE COUP, GRAYSKUL, SIREN'S ECHO, CANCER RISING
(Chop Suey) See preview, page 43, and Stranger Suggests, page 25.
SAM PHILLIPS
(Century Ballroom) See Border Radio, page 49.
MATTHEW SHAW, VERONA, IN PRAISE OF FOLLY
(The Paradox) I can't really understand why people keep saying Matthew Shaw's fantastic record reminds them of Bright Eyes. Can't they hear how good it is? Both acts make inward-looking pop songs, but where Bright Eyes plays the emotions to the back of the theater, Shaw honors the subject matter by keeping his tone chill (instead of shrill). And speaking of chill, In Praise of Folly is definitely worth checking out, too. Like their billmate, they have a sound that lends itself to unsatisfactory comparisons to indie rock totems. But their attention to detail, their dynamic control, and their big bursts of energy mark their music as defiantly their own. These bands may push familiar buttons, but they do it on their own terms, and with refreshing grace. SEAN NELSON
DARKEST HOUR, BETWEEN THE BURIED AND ME, CATTLE DECAPITATION, FEAR BEFORE THE MARCH OF FLAMES
(Graceland) Cattle Decapitation used to don hideous beef-jerky masks on stage, which added a repugnant touch to their virulent vegetarian rants. Unfortunately, the group's jerky supply dried up, but their increasingly incendiary riffs and sharply satirical cannibal-cookbook lyrics ensure that they maintain their jackhammer jolt. Darkest Hour, another band that combines a prickly protest-punk message with savage thrash, made good on the signature Bush-basher threat by relocating to a foreign country. Granted, the group visited Sweden before the election to work with producer Fredrick Nordstrom, a defining force behind that country's technically proficient, unfathomably evil black-metal melodies. The album they brought back, Hidden Hands of a Sadist Nation, funnels articulate anti-administration venom through ornately eerie sonic cylinders. Even when wordless, Darkest Hour can convert concertgoers to their cause--their turbulent 12-minute instrumental has more hypnotic power than spinning concentric circles. ANDREW MILLER
OCEAN BLUE, GUESTS
(Neumo's) Hershey, Pennsylvania's Ocean Blue have been unassumingly trudging around for 17 years, converting their Anglophilia into a few Modern Rock hits in '89 before fading into obscurity. But on 2004's Waterworks EP, they surprisingly sound like a band hungry and firing on almost all cylinders. Waterworks encompasses chiming, romantic dream pop powered by the immortally funky beat to the Monkees' "Mary, Mary"; sunshiny pop à la the Lovin' Spoonful that fills you with optimism against your better judgment; ELP-indebted prog; and more. If you told me that I'd like something by these mopes in 2004, I'd have laughed you out of the room, if not punched you. Joke's on me, I guess. DAVE SEGAL
SATURDAY 12/4
THE PINK MOUNTAINTOPS
(The Funhouse) See preview, page 37.
EDITH FROST, MANISHEVITZ, SARAH DOUGHER, GRAHAM TRAVIS
(Graceland) See preview, page 43.
THE KILLS, THE HUNCHES, THE COPS
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.
PEDRO THE LION, VIVA VOCE, BLUE SCHOLARS, HALF LIFE SOUVENIR, SHAWN SMITH, THE LONG WINTERS, GOODNESS, CARRIE AKRE, DOLOUR, MATTHEW SHAW, GUESTS
(Showbox) See Stranger Suggests, page 25.
QUEERCORE BLITZ FEATURING DOMINATRIX, TRIPLE CRéME, JACK QUEEN, THE DEAD BETTIES
(Vera Project) For those concerned that a conservative administration squashes creativity, look what the Regan years brought us--the seedlings of Queercore, a movement that marries the fierce musical aesthetic of socially conscious punk with the in-your-face stance of political rioters like ACT UP. Twenty years after it first took root, the Queercore concept is stoking new fires with a nationwide tour featuring an eclectic mix of all queer punk/rock/hardcore bands. From Brazilian hardcore ladies Dominatrix to the melodic boy punk of the Dead Betties and Triple Crème's riot-grrrl growl, the tour offers a united front of solidly focused music--both musically and politically. JENNIFER MAERZ
AESOP ROCK, MR. LIF, BLUE SCHOLARS, BYRDIE, DJ SCENE, DJ BIG WIZ
(UW Hub Ballroom) If you have a few years to spare, you may be able to decipher the accelerated, ultra-dense sermons Aesop Rock's delivered over three albums. The New York MC's classic debut, Float (2000), introduced a uniquely pessimistic and self-deprecating lyrical voice and a profoundly worldly and deep production style. Aesop's initial Def Jux effort--2001's Labor Days--followed in Float's style, but with 2003's Bazooka Tooth, the production (mostly Aes' work) has gotten as dense as an El-P joint while the writing's become more blustery and conventionally battle-lyric heavy. Still, Aesop Rock remains one of indie hiphop's most fascinating figures, and the rest of the bill's tighter than your boss. DAVE SEGAL See also My Philosophy, page 37.
STUDIO 66
(Lo_Fi) With each passing day, it becomes increasingly harder to recreate the hedonistic times of the free-loving, psychedelic '60s. But that doesn't stop a lot of well-meaning folks from trying. Chris Porter (DJ Chrispo) and his Studio 66 crew launch bimonthly soirees that attempt to resurrect the ultravivid spectacle of happenings from that turned-on decade (really just 1966-'69). Studio 66 typically focuses on mod and psych rock, soul, Brit pop, acid jazz, and international pop, but tonight it pays tribute to the crucial Nuggets series of garage-psych comps. Local rockers the Bug Nasties, the Invisible Eyes, and Freakbeat join DJs Blueblueday and Chrispo, go-go dancers Tangerine Tonic, and video artist TJ. DAVE SEGAL
SUNDAY 12/5
THE DEARS, ROBBERS ON HIGH STREET, THE SUN
(Crocodile) See preview, page 37.
AVRIL LAVIGNE, SIMPLE PLAN, MAROON 5, HILARY DUFF, CHRISTINA MILIAN, RYAN CABRERA
(Tacoma Dome) It used to be I felt like an asshole for picking on Avril Lavigne. After all, she was just a 15-year-old Canadian who grew up singing Dixie Chicks songs at county fairs. Who was I to reprimand her for being cute (in a 12-year-old eyeliner'd boy sort of way) and singing pop "punk" anthems like her debut single "Skater Boi"? But then I begrudgingly watched her DVD, where she covers Green Day's "Basketcase" and most tragically, Bob Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," and I started to laugh without guilt. I watched her prance around with Paris Hilton and her elfish Sum 41 boyfriend, Derek Webley, on the pages of Us and People Magazine, and the jokes kept getting easier. She's grown to be more ridiculous, shunning the fearless (albeit a little dimwitted) punk attitude and morphing into a completely senseless pop-star jackass. She's no Ashlee Simpson, but Avril's still good for a giggle. MEGAN SELING
MONDAY 12/6
KARATE, ROOTS OF ORCHIS, PATROL
(Graceland) The connection between the martial art karate and post-punk dates back to 1984, when a Gang of Four tune appeared in the original Karate Kid film. The kick-ass music trio Karate emerged roughly a decade after that seminal soundtrack moment. These guys don't sweep their legs much--in fact, they stand perfectly still, as if balancing on the edge of a canoe--but motion doesn't matter when a band is this adept at choppy riffs and jagged-jazz improvisation. All three Karate members sharpened their skills at the Berklee College of Music, where they likely learned under the tutelage of a Miyagi-like mentor. Progressive yet never pretentious, virtuosic but accessibly melodic, Karate fights valiantly to redeem fusion's sullied reputation. Onstage, it's the moment of truth, and they're giving it their all. ANDREW MILLER
FUCK, PANTY LIONS, BUILT LIKE ALASKA
(Neumo's) See Stranger Suggests, page 25, for Fuck, the amazing SF band that everyone should be so happy has reunited. Panty Lions, meanwhile, are an offshoot of Earlimart, featuring former member Ashod Simonian and current member Ariana Murray, and while the big E has of late found glory in introspective, quiet sounds, the Panty Lions have been there all along--their music is sweet and lowdown mellow indie pop. SEAN NELSON
TUESDAY 12/7
FATBOY SLIM, DONALD GLAUDE, RYLE
(Premier) See preview, page 39.
PHOENIX, WEST INDIAN GIRL, MERCIR
(Chop Suey) West Indian Girl (Robert James and Francis Ten) deserve props for naming their band after a strain of acid that inspires "tribal hallucinations." But they also earn demerits for not taking this inspiration to its mind-altering extreme. Their self-titled debut on Astralwerks strives for psychedelic grandeur, but it's too leashed to conventional song structure to achieve revelatory liftoff. West Indian Girl seem too much like a pseudo-hip, California major-label A&R dude's idea of "psychedelic" for true heads to get really excited about. Nevertheless, it's encouraging to see young Americans gravitating toward music that at least attempts Dionysian derangement of the senses. I'll be keeping tabs on West Indian Girl. DAVE SEGAL
SCREAM CLUB, JOEY CASIO, DJ FUCKING IN THE STREETS
(Neumo's) Joey Casio refers to himself on buyolympia.com (the only place his single used to be available) as a "punk band." This is an intriguing use of that overused genre title, as here it applies to a one-man band. Joey Casio spits lyrics over a cassette-quality beat--and that's all that goes on. Not to say that he is devoid of talent--his beats, while lo-fi, are fun and danceable, and his singing is breathy and tough. But to be one person, but refer to yourself as a band? That freaks me out in a schizo kind of way. ARI SPOOL
WEDNESDAY 12/8
JOSEPH ARTHUR, JOAN AS POLICE WOMAN
(Crocodile) See preview, page 41.
SALLY TIMMS, JOHNNY DOWD
(Tractor) See CD Reviews, page 45.
JELLO BIAFRA (SPOKEN WORD)
(Showbox) For those of you who are/were Dead Kennedys fans, this is not the Dead Kennedys. It's Jello Biafra, using that nasal whine of his to throw blunt daggers at such semi-sized targets as SUVs, yuppies, and other hits so easy it's like punk politics never aged beyond the three-chord mindset. JENNIFER MAERZ
