NEBULA, BROTHERHOOD OF THE ELECTRIC, THE HEADS
(Crocodile) I was privileged enough to be part of a Nebula experience in Seattle a few years ago. Here's what I recommend: plenty of beer (duh) and... well, that's all you need, actually. Heavy, heavy monster rock that once seemed to be almost the birthright of Seattle but now has been sadly washed away by latecomer creeps like Damien Jurado--has anyone killed him yet?--and anyone else wearing glasses. If I wasn't on another planet, I'd be attending tonight. EVERETT TRUE

PRIS, CARMINE, SWEET TEA
(Breakroom) Sweet Tea's music is like sweet tea indeed--it's mellow, goes down smooth, and lingers in your senses afterward. A look at the band's lineup bespeaks variety: You've got a drummer versed in jazz and world music, a guitarist whose last project was a funk band, and a songwriter who started recording Sweet Tea's 1999 debut, Assembly, before ever lining up the band. From all of this has emerged a unity of sound that's melodic, flavorful, and easy on the ears. In that sense, the band's stated intention to embrace a '60s sort of sound is successful, though no one is going to mistake them for Quicksilver Messenger Service. Groovy, baby. GENEVIEVE WILLIAMS

WILLIE & LOBO
(Jazz Alley) For a mellow warm-up to Bumbershoot, try the world music duo Willie and Lobo. The violin-playing Texan (Willie) and the flamenco-guitar-playing German (Lobo) make for an odd couple, but they have an uncanny knack for packaging various musical traditions, from Tejano to Gypsy, into one seamless presentation. They won't be making any bold or outrageous musical statements, but their wistful, lightly spiced sound fits well within Jazz Alley's smooth confines. NATHAN THORNBURGH

WALLY SHOUP & MICHAEL BISIO
(Eye and Ear Control Records) In case you haven't heard, Columbia City hosts Beat Walk on the first Friday of every month in this, one of Seattle's last culturally intact neighborhoods. Eye and Ear Control--a name taken from Albert Ayler's New York Eye and Ear Control--is perhaps Seattle's best CD store for out-jazz aficionados. Tonight, accompanied by Bisio on the stand-up bass, the courageous alto-saxophonist Wally Shoup (Project W) will distill the blues into a honk-and-grind kind of moonshine capable of leaving capital X's where your eyes used to be. KREG HASEGAWA

VALENTINE KILLERS, RC5, THREE YEARS DOWN
(Breakroom) The buzz around these local favorites is growing, and it's not at all difficult to see why--the Valentine Killers, simply, play good music. They understand what so few punk bands do: Not only is it possible to be both punk and musical, it's downright desirable. Sure, they've got the aggro, but they've also got the rock, and the result is that they're almost frighteningly listenable. Their CD is called St. Valentine's Day Massacre, and you really should get it. GENEVIEVE WILLIAMS

THE SPITS, THE A-FRAMES, THE BRIEFS, THE PULSES
(Breakroom) The Spits celebrate, uh... beer, chicks, and their new CD at the Breakroom! See Bio Box.

THE JOHN DOE THING, ONELINEDRAWING, MATT NATHANSON
(Crocodile) John Doe speaks! See page 53.

PATIENT ZERO, ME FIRST, TRANSMARINE
(Graceland) This is nothing new. Me First faithfully serves up the dish of pop/punk one would expect from a band that is influenced by the Fastbacks, and has been compared to the Ramones. You've heard this music before, you'll hear it again, and you will never have enough of it. This is the kind of music that drives me into prolonged, involuntary bouts of bouncing I can only hope approach what some would consider dance. Sure it's kind of pointless, but it's fun--and besides, they've got a new album out to boot. NATE LEVIN

SIX-STRING ERIC AND HIS LAZY RANCH HANDS, THREE BAD JACKS, DOMINI CANES
(Tractor Tavern) Head down to historic Ballard and watch Six-String Eric and His Lazy Ranch Hands show you that they are anything but. Three Bad Jacks' frontman Elvis Suissa (yeah, his parents named him that, god bless 'em) has been pickin' since he was 14. Rock City News thinks the Jacks are one of the greatest rockabilly/swing bands around, and their new disc features the likes of Elvis Presley's bassist Jerry Scheff and Dwight Yoakam's keyboardist Skip Edwards. There is sure to be enough clean pickin' and sweet slidin' to keep you rockin' and billyin' to your heart's content. NATE LEVIN

BUMBERBASH: OZOMATLI, LA MOVIDA
(Showbox) Find out Ozomatli just got off a tour opening for Dave Matthews alongside Ben Harper, and Stinky Hippie alarms start screeching. Fortunately, this Benetton of bands (white turntablist, Japanese percussionist, black rapper, Cuban singer, Mexican horn player) manage to blast most of the patchouli out of the room with their funky, boom-tastic mix of hiphop, horns, and half a continent's worth of Latin genres. Add some very Rage Against the Machine-type sociopolitical rants (which you'll probably catch a lot more of if you speak the Español) and remixes from underground heroes like Peanut Butter Wolf and Cut Chemist, and you've got a band you can enjoy while still keeping your precious cred. Sure, it can get a little didactic and clichéd at times, but just try telling that to your butt, which won't stop twitching. LEAH GREENBLATT

SPLIT LIP RAYFIELD
(Tractor Tavern) In Split Lip Rayfield's self-produced video for "Drinkin' Around," the band wanted to evoke that great freedom white-trash people seem to enjoy: spending their days in cutoff jeans, fixing cars on their lawn, and drinking cases of warm Schlitz beer. But the music tells a much different story: Split Lip Rayfield are complete shredders when it comes to their frenetic bluegrass, and there's no way drinking Schlitz alone could produce their quality brand of speedy, irreverent, and slightly punk roots music. NATHAN THORNBURGH

A PERFECT CIRCLE, SUNNA
(Paramount Theatre) Tool by name, tool by nature. A Perfect Circle is clearly and shamelessly Tool frontman Maynard James Keenan's ticket to the big time. Their debut album, Mer de Noms, draws on all the worst aspects of industrial goth, MTV-friendly "alternative" acts like Limp Bizkit and Slipknot, and archaic Brit flute-warblers Jethro Tull. And believe me, there are plenty of worst aspects there for the plucking. Still, this being America, you probably lap this sort of crap up. Nice one. Enjoy, kids. EVERETT TRUE

QUASI, 764-HERO
(Crocodile) Ah, Quasi. After a recent English Sleater-Kinney concert, I walked drunkenly up to drummer Janet Weiss--before, I've always been too shy--and asked her what it was like to be in my favorite two Northwest bands (Cadallaca, Crabs, Modest Mouse, et al. notwithstanding). She gave me the correct response: laughed shortly, slapped me, and turned away. (No she didn't. She was very polite.) Quasi are so gorgeous, so enflamed with love and desire and all those poignant, melancholy moments in between, it damn near breaks my heart to even think of them. I was the only person to cheer at a recent Go-Betweens London show when lanky singer Robert Forster announced that it was Quasi singer Sam Coomes playing on their terrific new album, not Elliott Smith. People are so mutton-like sometimes. EVERETT TRUE

GERALD COLLIER, PETER BLACKSTOCK
(Sunset Tavern) Though he's often got a bee in his bonnet (or cowboy hat, as it were), country crooner Gerald Collier writes pretty, introspective songs that let you know his bark is worse than his bite. He's been gone from the scene for a while, fed up with broken promises and major labels giving him the shaft. Also, he got married. Thankfully, Collier's back in the clubs, grousing and grumbling while playing sweet, soulful tunes in Ballard, where folks hear that kind of stuff the best. KATHLEEN WILSON

THE GLANDS, COMBOVER, THE LAST GREAT LIAR
(Breakroom) The Glands possess a musical quality (part genius, part geek) that is just so damn endearing. Ringleader Ross Shapiro has been mixing his musical metaphors for 20 years now, and it shows. I will tell you that the Glands remind me of Robyn Hitchcock, only so I won't have to insult you by suggesting that they remind me of that big British band of yore. (A tired comparison, but yes, I do think the Glands are worthy of it.) Do not make me add injury by telling you that you really should go. NATE LEVIN

HUGH MASEKELA
(Jazz Alley) Hugh Masekela has been at the epicenter of South African jazz for more than four decades. Like so many of his peers, the trumpet and flügelhorn player fled South Africa early on in his career, finding success in Western markets that was rivaled only by that of his ex-wife, Miriam Makeba. His career has seen him cross over repeatedly between jazz and Afropop, and on his latest release, Masekala steps aside to let other voices in South African popular music take over. The small stage at Jazz Alley, however, should give him a good opportunity to show off the careful, vibrant horn playing that brought him to the spotlight in the first place. NATHAN THORNBURGH

ICP ORCHESTRA
(Nippon Kan Theater) Jazz is what put America on the cultural map. In the '60s, Europe plunged into a musical feeding frenzy, which included the likes of our American ambassadors--Coltrane, Monk, and Ornette Coleman. The Instant Composers Pool (ICP) Orchestra was founded back in 1967 in Amsterdam, by the two core members who will appear tonight (Misha Mengelberg on piano and Han Bennink on percussion). They will host an incredible lineup that includes Michael Moore (clarinet and sax) and the comedic Tristan Honsinger on cello (both of whom enthralled a sold-out audience here this past July), among many others. KREG HASEGAWA

TAHITI 80, SUMACK
(Crocodile) Like an ice-cold glass of lemonade on a scorching day, Tahiti 80 are a refreshing treat. Their Minty Fresh debut is a lovely, lively take on loungey pop: a sunny, summery, not-too-sugary assortment of low-key treasures guaranteed to put a smile on your face and a bounce in your step. Even in the aftermath of Bumbershoot mania, this should be a show worthy of dragging yourself off the couch and down to the Crocodile to see--after all, you don't want to be the only one of your pop-loving friends who missed out. BARBARA MITCHELL

THEE HEATHEN, TINY KINGS
(Tractor Tavern) I should tell you right off that I hate Wilco. I think it has something to do with their collaboration with Billy Bragg on the Mermaid Avenue albums. I guess that I just like my Billy straight--and this is important to my point. There is only a very small place in my world for the genre of music known as alt-country. The Tiny Kings' new album, Sorry Bastards, occupies that perfect space between coffee and booze, luck and love, pillows and pills that makes the end of summer go down so smoothly. If their live show even hints of this album's loveliness, then it will be worth seeing indeed. NATE LEVIN

FUTURETRO
(Rainbow) The members of Rockin' Teenage Combo (one of Seattle's most lively and endearing fusion-jazz outfits) are whipping themselves into touring shape by playing under a pseudonym: Futuretro. Still featuring core members Dara Quinn on keys and P. K. on bass, and hailing new drummer Jason McGerr (ex-Eureka Farm), they will be contaminating your Wednesday nights for the rest of the month at the Rainbow with the groovy hiphop and mutant jazz that their fans usually pack in to see. KREG HASEGAWA

PROGRESSION SESSIONS 2000 FEATURING LTJ BUKEM, MC CONRAD, NOOKIE, AND QUAZAR
(Showbox) Once upon a time, LTJ was the king of a burgeoning scene. Nowadays, however, his stuff has been relegated to hair salons and third-date seduction scenes, the so-called "adult contemporary jungle" he created having fallen by the wayside in favor of harder, darker beats. And indeed, tracks with names like "Journey Inwards" and "Undress Your Mind" are more soundscapes than songs--heavy on the horns, synth washes, and floaty female vocals, light on the bass (it's all just so '96). Then again, what's wrong with that? His creations have so little to do with today's dirty, frenetic tech-step and apocalyptic, room-vibrating drum and bass, there's no point comparing them. Who wants their bangs cut, their bra unhooked, or their Sunday morning bagels buttered to the rate of 360bpm anyway? Bukem has his place, and he fills it quite well. LEAH GREENBLATT