THURSDAY 6/16

THE GO-BETWEENS, DOLOREAN
(Triple Door) See preview, page 45.

THE FUTUREHEADS, GUESTS
(Neumo's) You've got to give the Futureheads credit for getting so far with such a stupid name. Next to Franz Ferdinand, who are their closest rivals, they've rolled off of the UK music-industry machine of successful garage-rock and post-punk revivals by skipping ahead to clipped, 9-to-5-skeptical, Joe Jackson/Elvis Costello new-wave pop. Does it make them a transition point from a transatlantic Detroit fetish to something quintessentially British and new? Probably. While it's hard to get very excited about Futureheads' music, the Northeastern England almost-a-cappella harmonies at which they're quite good set them apart just enough to remember where you're eventually going to pack them away. GUY FAWKES

FRIDAY 6/17

BLUE SCHOLARS, ONE BE LO, MASSIVE MONKEES, GUESTS
(Chop Suey) See preview, page 21.

HACIENDA BROTHERS, WEARY BOYS, MARSHALL SCOTT WARNER
(Tractor) See Border Radio, page 51.

LUSINE, CODEBASE, DJ RECESS
(Nectar) See Data Breaker, page 57.

THE CORAL, WEST INDIAN GIRL
(Crocodile) Merseyside's the Coral are one of those bands that want to be the best of a dozen different traditions while uncomfortable with all of them, trapped in an unsuccessful sound and lost inside the idea sludge. But if the Lo-Fidelity Allstars and the Beta Band could mix art folk with triumphant funk and indie-dance construction, the Coral have dialed it down to the odd-shaped neo-psychedelic. And it makes you want to root for them. If the rest of us live in a world where an English No. 1 is being fought between Coldplay and a ring tone of a frog singing the theme to Beverly Hills Cop, at least the Coral are trying. GUY FAWKES

IRON COMPOSER: JELLO BIAFRA, MC5'S WAYNE KRAMER
(EMP Skychurch) I remember the days (last summer) when Seattle School's Iron Composer series was just a crackpot concept involving drinking high jinks and songwriting trickery at CHAC. Now it's a crackpot concept aiming for the big time-national names, network exposure (fingers crossed), and new ways to torture its competitors with interactive audience challenges. Tonight tests whether two punk legends-Jello Biafra (Dead Kennedys) and Wayne Kramer (MC5)-still have what it takes, as Iron Composer puts them to the challenge of creating a completely original song using the contest's materials at hand-audience interviews and distractions, copious amounts of alcohol, and the hilarious theatrics of the cracked Seattle School crew. JENNIFER MAERZ

PAUL VAN DYK, JERRY BONHAM, EVA
(Element) Various magazines rank rock's most important artists, but there's no unified effort to combine these tabulations. Dance music uses one definitive poll (www.thedjlist.com), and that list maintains Paul Van Dyk is the world's second-best spinner. Van Dyk's 2003 CD, Reflections, which added pop polish to his progressive-trance backdrops, baffled some longtime listeners, but he later issued a remix disc that transformed these tracks into trademark techno thumpers. Remixing is Van Dyk's signature skill; his sets fuse massively reconstructed material instead of stringing together singles. He decorates his burrowing bass lines with ambient atmospherics, creating compositions that subtly soothe as they surge. ANDREW MILLER

CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE, P:ANO, THE MICKENS BROTHERS
(Lo_Fi Performance Art Gallery) Casiotone for the Painfully Alone always has the perfect song to interrupt the easy fidelity of your music-listening shuffle with the intrusive textures of fat synth and wheezy, heartbroken voice. Within that lies a world of musical and lyrical cleverness built to address the eternal misery that is our life. Also, don't let the "prog" name-calling put you off your P:ano. Their new record, Brigadoon, is full of beauty and wonder. SEAN NELSON

THE EELS, GUESTS
(Moore) "I feel like an old railroad man," Mark Everett sings on the Eels' recent release Blinking Lights and Other Revelations. He sounds like one, too, because his vocal filters work like reverse purifiers, enhancing grit. Most of the tunes on this brutally efficient double-disc collection live slow and die young, with final lines lingering like unanswered prayers. Everett draws from a seemingly inexhaustible supply of pessimistic aphorisms, but he lets hope escape his Pandora's Box. His narrators want to flee what one song calls "the suicide life," and the incongruously upbeat chamber-pop melodies will be waiting for them if things turn around. ANDREW MILLER

ENON, THUNDERBIRDS ARE NOW, SPARROW
(Neumo's) Led by former Brainiac multi-instrumentalist John Schmersal and featuring Blonde Redhead refugee Toko Yasuda on vocals and synths, Enon are a saucy agglomeration of many '90s alt-nation elements, all energetically assimilated and executed for discerning rock aesthetes. Slightly danceable, mildly abrasive, glancingly electro-spazzy, accessibly weird, and a bit quirky and reliably catchy in the tune department, Enon should be better known than they are-perhaps a notch below Pavement-level popularity. Alas, Enon's fan base is much smaller, but, as their recent odds-and-sods collection Lost Marbles and Exploded Evidence proves, the Brooklyn trio deserve props for doing so many things so well without being obnoxiously ostentatious about it. DAVE SEGAL

SHITTIEST BAND IN SEATTLE CONTEST
(Sunset) You've watched musicians attempt to claw their way to the top at past battles of the bands; now watch as they try to sink their way to the bottom. Last year's race for the Shittiest Band in Seattle included both comedy routines set to song and super-sucky bands who just wanted recognition for something. You know how if you drink enough, sometimes even the shittiest bands sound kinda decent? Yeah, well, there are some bands no amount of booze can force you to love. Best of luck to the absolute worst out there. JENNIFER MAERZ

THEY SHOOT HORSES DON'T THEY?, HYPATIA LAKE, LOCUST STREET TAXI
(Vera Project) Remember the children's classic Toby Tyler, or Ten Weeks with a Circus, about a little boy who runs away to join the big top? Vancouver, BC septet They Shoot Horses Don't They? sound like the band young Toby might have assembled if he'd gone on to art school after his three-ring stint; think !!! for the polka-not post-punk-set, with lots of almost-cacophonous percussion, chanted vocals, and oom-pah brass. Their eponymous four-song EP mesmerizes, but they're best experienced live, especially when jumbo-sized keyboard player Chris makes like a carnival strong man and carries other band members around on his back. KURT B. REIGHLEY

SATURDAY 6/18

STEPHEN MALKMUS AND THE JICKS, MARTHA WAINWRIGHT
(Neumo's) See preview, page 39 and Stranger Suggests, page 29.

SPOON, THE CLIENTELE
(Showbox) See preview, page 41.

KILL MEMORY CRASH, JERRY ABSTRACT, PAUL EDWARDS, KRISTINA CHILDS
(Mantra Lounge) See Data Breaker, page 57.

PHO BANG w/JACKIE & THE CONTROL TOPS, URSULA & THE ANDROIDS, VERONICA LIPGLOSS & THE EVIL EYES, SUNDAY NIGHT BLACKOUT, CAUGHT IN CANDY, DJ BABY J
(Chop Suey) Remember Pho Bang? The tragicomedy drag shows, the killer bands, the talented DJs, the sloppy kisses on the dance floor? The latter was usually from San Francisco art punks Veronica Lipgloss & the Evil Eyes, who pinned down and grinded into their audience on numerous occasions, dressed in androgynous costumes and casting spells with their atmospheric, amorphous post-punk melodies. V. Lipgloss returns with the return of Pho Bang-a two-night bonanza where the Chop Suey event celebrates Jackie Hell's 306th birthday. We should all hope to look twice as good at half her age. JENNIFER MAERZ

SUNDAY 6/19

THE MOUNTAIN GOATS, THE DOUBLE, SARAH DOUGHER
(Neumo's) Former psychiatric nurse John Darnielle made his musical reputation in the '90s as a near one-man band with lo-fi recordings that were like hyper-literate Harry Smith field recordings-murky, wordy, and funny in equal measure. On the Mountain Goats' 2003 release, Tallahassee, Darnielle ditched the boom box and recorded in a studio, smoothing out some of the rough edges without losing any of the charm and immediacy; he continued to explore the glory of a crisper palette on its follow-up We Shall All Be Healed. On his latest record, The Sunset Tree, he refines some of the studio magic, keeping it minimal and his voice up front. His songwriting is, as always, in top form as he sketches out rough and tumble emotions and delivers them in his slightly nasal and theatrical voice. NATE LIPPENS See also Stranger Suggests, page 31.

LONGWAVE
(Triple Door) One of best features of the beautiful, acoustically desirable Triple Door is how the layout and atmosphere of the showroom make the audience focus on nothing but the music. This makes it the perfect setting for the orchestral mindset of New York's Longwave, a classic, celestial pop band whose 2002 release The Strangest Things, produced by Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, Sleater-Kinney), is one of the more enchanting My Bloody Valentine-influenced creations out there. I've yet to hear their latest release in its entirety, but the fact that it was produced by John Leckie-the man responsible for Radiohead's The Bends-is a fine sign that we're in for more good things. HANNAH LEVIN

SAN SERAC, CHROMATICS, DJ PORQ
(Crescent) This afternoon show (your guess on start time is as good as mine, but think early happy hour) is part two of the Pho Bang celebration. Sunday's shebang includes "one man disco" San Serac, an artist so slickly '80s he should've soundtracked all of Tubbs's spit-swapping scenes on Miami Vice. Serac's a man who lists Shalamar and Pet Shop Boys as reference points, so he should fit right in with Jackie and Ursula's gaudy retro glitz. Think boxed wine, bedazzled clothing, brown nylons, and white heels. Or don't think at all and toast the quiet storm that ensues. JENNIFER MAERZ

MONDAY 6/20

SCHOOLYARD HEROES
(Sonic Boom, Ballard) See preview, page 21.

VIC CHESNUTT, SUNMAY
(Tractor) He used to come across on stage like an irritable Townes Van Zandt, but on his 10th album in 15 years, Ghetto Bells, poetic Georgia songwriter Vic Chesnutt resonates more like the far-flung Southern cousin of Tom Waits. The record drips of his catastrophic wit, compassionate misfortune, and political grousing, but flows with the graceful backing of a circle of endowed musicians (including Ballard's own Bill Frisell). Tonight it will be Chesnutt's battered guitar accompanying wife Tina on bass and a niece on drums, and the seated audience should be ideal (read: hushed) for his eccentric twang and devious between-song repartee. SCOTT HOLTER

TUESDAY 6/21

BOOM BAP PROJECT, I-SELF DIVINE, DJ JAKE ONE
(Chop Suey), See preview, page 21.

WEDNESDAY 6/22

MOCEAN WORKER, L'ALTRA
(Chop Suey) See Data Breaker, page 59.

MOTO, COCONUT COOLOUTS, THE RAZZLE DAZZLE GANG, SNOT ROCKETTES
(Funhouse) Lots of indie rockers use their garageband.coms, ProTools, and whatnots to mishmash rock history into indefinable effigies to, well, the end of rock, probably. Chicago's MOTO (Masters of the Obvious) never needed no stinking computer. These goofs' idea of technology was and is a four-track and that carbonating ball deal at the bottom of a Guinness can. Since 1990, they've dumped up 10-plus albums of hilarious left-field lyrical flights yipped through super-catchy if bizarrely metal-tinged tunes. MOTO's ambition's on the cheap, so it's doubtful you'll see them bring their gunk pop through these parts again. ERIC DAVIDSON