AMERICAN RED CROSS LIBERTY FUND BENEFIT w/TART, AUTOMATON, HELLO FROM WAVELAND
(Sit & Spin) Tart is uptight. The vocals are stiff and the guitar lines are self-consciously staccato. That said, there is definite promise in this Seattle four-piece. Featuring three sisters (the Landa clan) who are obviously close enough to work together well, the members of Tart engage in fine call-and-response vocal interplay, and sung harmonies are abundant. At times the band recalls early Throwing Muses, though Tart is by no means as intense, which is what seems to be lacking in the band's music overall. Automaton, however, is seasoned in cutting loose, and will hopefully do just that at this benefit for the Red Cross. JEFF DeROCHE

JESSICA WILLIAMS
(Jazz Alley) Jazz pianist Jessica Williams' career has been marked by long periods without major releases, particularly after she moved to San Francisco in the late 1970s. Musicians, however, are allowed hiatuses to improve their craft and find their true voices--think Robert Johnson disappearing when he was a second-rate guitar player and reemerging some time later as the king of the Delta blues. In much the same way, Williams reemerged in the '90s with a wicked repertoire of blues, ballads, and Thelonious Monk chops. Even though she'll be playing in a trio at Jazz Alley (a group that includes talented local bassist Jeff Johnson), Williams has that rare ability to hold an audience captive even when playing solo. That's because her improvisational range--from flourishing to stuttering to syncopated to jagged--allows her to breathe life and vitality into any standard tune. NATHAN THORNBURGH

AMY DENIO PROJECT, JESSICA LURIE ENSEMBLE, AIKO SHIMADA
(Tractor) An all-female lineup at the Tractor Tavern might make one think of a folksy singer-songwriter hoe-down. Well, this ain't that. Thursday's players include some of the most accomplished avant-garde and improvisational musicians in Seattle. Starting the night is Amy Denio, whose bizarre and often beautiful recordings have made her a nationally recognized vocalist. She's followed by the Jessica Lurie Ensemble, which, according to Lurie, "moves in and out of Klezmer-ish music to funk and free jazz." It's territory that the saxophonist knows well, having helped define what can only be described as an "avant-Klezmer" sound for Seattle jazz with groups like Living Daylights. An added bonus with this ensemble is that Lurie will step out from behind the sax and sing as well. Aiko Shimada is the closest to a typical singer-songwriter of the three acts, but her darkly lit compositions can fit snugly into any avant-garde bill. With only a $6 cover charge, this should be one of the Tractor's better Thursdays in a while. NATHAN THORNBURGH

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE, THE PROM, AVEO
(Crocodile) See preview this issue.

BREAKESTRA, AMAD JAMAL, DJ JOHN DOE, DJ FIVE
(I-Spy) I imagine that the name Breakestra might conjure up unsettling images of a goofy, Riverdance-sized breakdancing company with some of you, but please fear not: I'm here to tell y'all that this is a super-tasty, XXL-sized Los Angeles-based band bent on busting out the dopest breakbeats of all time. However, rather than sample its favorite old rare soul nuggets, the Breakestra re-creates them live, on the spot, with old-school instrumentation reminiscent of the dusty 45s themselves. The band's latest disc (The Live Mix Part 2) features a 40-minute funk jam peppered with licks, grooves, and teases from about 30 tunes. Get the idea? Like all the British record labels that have been going berserk on the funky soul-jazz reissues front as of late, the Breakestra aims to bring the music it loves to the people. To all the people. Anyone who's ever rummaged through endless bins in search of the out-of-print traces of our nation's on-the-one black rhythm revolution is invited to this party, in celebration of Hiphopsite.com's fifth anniversary--and the grand opening of its U-District record store. The forces behind this root-down know their history, and, fortunately for us, are doomed to repeat it. JAMES KIRCHMER

BASEMENT JAXX, UGLY DUCKLING
(Showbox) In the course I like to call Beat Translation 101, some pupils capture a groove and energy and are full of themselves enough to take it seriously to the point that translation comes off textbook. Had you been an apt pupil, you'd fall into the category of Herbaliser and Groove Armada. Had you taken the class, fucked around a bit, and let your sense of humor get the better of you (while still getting the A), you'd fall into the category of Roni Size and St. Germain. We have yet to see how this year's student, Basement Jaxx, will fare. Here are the stats: The Jaxx has delivered two critically acclaimed albums, Remedy and this year's stunningly beautiful Rooty. The group has fans and critics by the balls, winning them over with a Prince-like sensibility and catchy-as-cold anthems. The duo remixes almost no one. With its dance-floor deity status established, will this be another trip down groundbreaking lane? Or will we see this live show--which promises backup singers and dancers amid the twosome's wicked beat pathology--as just another attempt by DJs at working out their rock fantasies, failing to generate any excitement? The anticipation is killing me. FRANK Nieto

RICHMOND FONTAINE
(Sunset) Richmond Fontaine's forthcoming album Somewhere Near is another dark showcase for singer/songwriter Willy Vlautin's haunting, fiction-based lyrics. Unfolding like stark short stories, the songs on Somewhere Near speak of all-night diners populated by romantic shut-ins, survivors of lost brothers, ill-fated bus rides to Reno, and pitiful alcoholics whose pasts' sudden return have left them shuddering. Add to those narratives the mournful wail of pedal steel and carefully punctuated drumming and tonight at the Sunset you've got an evening rife with the kind of music that'll haunt you to the bones. KATHLEEN WILSON

SANFORD ARMS (CD RELEASE), THE LAWNMOWERS, LONG WINTERS
(Tractor) Once primarily a brittle-sounding (albeit compellingly so) alt-country-influenced four-piece, Sanford Arms has matured into a cohesive band whose music throbs with an aching sadness backed by strong, dedicated instrumentation. Nearly all traces of transient twang are gone now, and in their place stands a firm sense of lasting, disconsolate mourning. Too Loud for the Snowman (out now on the local Pattern 25 label) features lyrics that twist and bore like a probe fashioned from a diamond, as guitars and an accordion pack the route with pillowy wool. Tonight's show is rumored to find Sanford Arms playing an abbreviated, stripped-down acoustic set. KATHLEEN WILSON

THALIA ZEDECK, TARA JANE O'NEIL, SAM JAYNE
(Breakroom) See preview this issue.

APPLES IN STEREO, THE MINDERS, CALL AND RESPONSE
(Crocodile) Apples in Stereo is part of the venerable Elephant 6 collective, which came about in the mid '90s and included Beatles-and-Zombies-inspired bands such as Neutral Milk Hotel, the Olivia Tremor Control, Secret Square, and Elf Power. The best of the bunch is by far Neutral Milk Hotel, but the strong, ultra-sunny second best is the happy Apples in Stereo, whose Her Wallpaper Reverie is not only the band's most stoned-out and wonderful pop record, but one of the 25 best stoned-out pop records to happen in the last couple decades. The new EP Let's Go! is as chipper as the title implies. It's no Her Wallpaper Reverie, but then that would be virtually impossible. JEFF DeROCHE

BOB DYLAN
(KeyArena) See Stranger Suggests.

THE CONVOCATION OF..., GLASS CANDY AND THE SHATTERED THEATRE, showpony
(Paradox) Baltimore's the Convocation Of... produces post-rock noise that unfurls soundscapes of cramped nightmares. The dark guitar work of Tonie Joy (Moss Icon, Universal Order of Armageddon, Born Against) sounds like a large, surgical claw, balling up and releasing tangled rhythms that switch course multiple times within the shape of one song. Straight melodies fall into dizzying spins before shifting to slower motion while the drum/bass partnership adds to the scientific chaos of discordant punk. This is an intense act, which isn't lessened in the least bit by Joy's spurts of hardcore vocals. With Guy Blakeslee (Behind Closed Doors) on bass and George France on drums, the Convocation Of... has released two LPs in 2001: Pyramid Technology on Tiger Style Records, and an eponymous record on San Diego art-punk label Gold Standard Laboratories (home to the amazing experimental punk act the Locust). For fans of the muscular, acute force of acts like Touched by a Janitor and Unwound, the Convocation Of... is a live act that only strengthens its grip on the dark sonic side when given the chance to sweat out its demons live. JENNIFER MAERZ

MA'CHELL'S BIRTHDAY W/THE RUBY DOE, THE CHARMING SNAKES, THE DARLINGS, MS. CONNIE MERLOT
(Sit & Spin) At last year's birthday bash for publicist Ma'chell Duma, the girl of the hour was a bit overzealous, to say the least. In fact, the highlight of the evening happened when the birthday cake was brought out. Duma, at that point likely in a blackout, stumbled right past it (not realizing it was even there) and left the Sit & Spin's showroom (to go pass out somewhere) even as people called to her: Ma'chell! Ma'chell... Ma'Chell? This year's event features rawk (with devil horns flying) from the Who-inspired locals in the Ruby Doe, as well as the Charming Snakes, and the Darlings. Entertainment will also come compliments of the subliminally acerbic Ms. Connie Merlot, former white-trash hostess of Foxes' defunct Tuesday night karaoke, Panty Raid. Happy birthday, baby! JEFF DeROCHE

DAVE DOUGLAS' WITNESS
(Sit & Spin) "How do you protest a system that co-opts and marginalizes almost every unique and original thought that confronts it?" Dave Douglas asks in the liner notes to his recently released and heady album Witness. Every composition is dedicated to a diffident political figure or artist (from Palestinian scholar Edward Said to Arab novelist and 1988 Nobel Prize-winner Naguib Mahfouz). In light of recent events, and the American track record in foreign policy, this question and these compositions begin to carry an unbearable load. Despite the politics, which has a tendency to kill good music anyway, Witness features Douglas standing poised to confront his two-pronged soul. The music is melodically complex, bringing Middle Eastern and Eastern European folk traditions together within an almost classical setting, and yet it has a fiery tenacity that flares up at moments. This tenacity, however, is unlike the tenacity of his colleague John Zorn, who lashes out vindictively. Douglas' tenacity is not ego, but a burnt idealism, searching for beauty in a melodically diverse world. KREG HASEGAWA

Addicted to what my dick did.

THE FAINT, NOW IT'S OVERHEAD, SOILED DOVES
(I-Spy) The Faint is back in town again, touring behind Danse Macabre, an expectedly dark record that showcases the band's angstful appreciation for new wave. The Faint is unequivocally a strutting group of posers, which is what makes the band appealing to most of its fans: Kids freak out on the fog machines and the psychodrama, and there is actually a ticket-buying contingent out there that is too young to recognize how retro and vanilla the Faint actually is. The Faint will share this bill with labelmates Now It's Overhead, more pretty pop from Omaha, Nebraska's Saddle Creek Records. JEFF DeROCHE

DE LA DECONSTRUCTION
(Alibi Room) See Stranger Suggests.

DILATED PEOPLES, MIXMASTER MIKE, SWOLLEN MEMBERS
(Showbox) See Stranger Suggests.

LOVE LIFE, GET HUSTLE, SUFFERING AND THE HIDEOUS THIEVES, ONALASKA
(Paradox) The skies are dark, people, and the music for the nether reaches of your grumbling id is right here. Love Life makes black-velvet rock for candlelit ceremonies, bass and organ languidly filling out the androgynous vocals of lead singer Katrina. The Get Hustle recently fled Los Angeles for Portland, and its members make a devil-dark racket so phenomenally beautiful you won't be able to peel your eyes off them. A stormy pounding of drums backs up riveting lead singer Valentine. She is the Charles Bukowski of music, at least in tone, screaming and purring like she's in a dreamy dark alleyway and dying to get out. Valentine is who you'll be drawn to, but keep an eye on the melodies, provided only by an organ and piano--they twist and turn together in a deep sleep of complexities. It ends up being a sultry lounge act fucked up by the philosophy of glamour, and you should not miss it. See also Suffering and the Hideous Thieves preview this issue. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

BEN FOLDS, CITIZEN COPE
(Showbox) Around seven years ago, when Ben Folds made a gimmick out of naming his three-piece Ben Folds Five, that joke was all he had going for him once audiences realized that his hammy, ivory-tinkling schtick concealed an act that was in reality nothing more than a Gen-X Billy Joel. Folds has lost the Five, and some of the gabby, "hey-lookit-me!-I'm-standin'-on-my-piano!" distractions. But he's still another hipster version of the Piano Man. At least Rufus Wainwright is gay. KATHLEEN WILSON