STAGGER LEE, BURNING BRIDES, THE GREENHORNES
(Crocodile) If you rely on local stalwarts like Mudhoney and the Supersuckers to validate blowing your paycheck on whiskey and pumping your fist in the air with guilt-free glee, you'll be happy to know the Burning Brides provide the same sort of justification. The members of this metallic, punk-fortified trio from Philly wrap their fists around typically tasty influences (Bleach-era Nirvana, the ever-reliable Sabbath) and sucker punch you with a surprisingly smart sense of dynamic melody and almost-innovative, guttural guitar lines. Swinging from the same rafters as their previous touring companion Zen Guerrilla (or logical contemporaries like Queens of the Stone Age and Caustic Resin), the Brides come off so well because they don't let their adolescent influences overshadow their current ambitions. The Southern-fried '70s swagger of headliner Stagger Lee will be the perfect side dish for a stick-to-yer-ribs night of relishable rock. HANNAH LEVIN

THE GREENHORNES
(Crocodile) The phrase "dance music" usually implies some kind of sound that pounds at your ears and your ass from a DJ booth. Unfortunately, dance music rarely has anything to do with rock and roll anymore, because at most shows we'd rather swing our necks around on our stiff little bodies like a row of indie-rock bobbleheads than break a sweat for a good band. Well, Cincinnati's Greenhornes play dance music of the rock and roll variety. The band takes stoned rock, adds a little R&B, and grinds out rhythms on organs and guitars, conjuring up an energetic crossroads where '50s rock and soul meets '60s psychedelics. Like Vue, the Von Blondies, and the Go, the Greenhornes are a modern Nuggets act, jamming on obscure covers and original material in a seamless continuation from the oldies to new-school garage. It's the kind of music that begs for a dance--and in the case of "Can't You See," a slow dance--so whether that means taking a couple shots of your favorite liquid confidence or hearing the climaxing call from a spastic Greenhorne at the mic, this band will help you shake your little rock and roll. See also above preview. JENNIFER MAERZ

MAXWELL
(Paramount) I grew up in Washington, D.C. listening to a lot of radio. So recently, longing for my childhood, I asked a friend to give me the tip on some good new black make-out music. She recommended Maxwell. I rushed out and bought a Maxwell CD, and man it was awful. If Maxwell's the modern Marvin Gaye, then I'm Shaquille O'Neal. Luckily, further research netted me some Mary J. Blige and Destiny's Child. JOSH FEIT

HOG MOLLY, JUCIFER, SLUDGEPLOW
(Crocodile) See preview this issue.

WAYNE HORVITZ's 4+1, ZONY MASH
(Tractor) Both of these bands celebrate their second CD releases tonight, and both are led by keyboardist/composer Wayne Horvitz. To those of you already hip to these two all-star lineups, a quick preface: Horvitz has penned another slew of sensational new tunes in his very own unmistakably understated style. The music shimmers with simple surface melodies and motifs, moved along by strong rhythmic undercurrents that only occasionally and strategically rear the whole of their massive, 60-ton selves. In other words, folks, this is some genuinely deep shit. And, mind you, I ain't tryin' to blow the idiot wind of some New Age sermon or pothead daydream up your asses. At its core, this is impressionistic American soul music that's full of profound intentions and influences (from classical to psychedelic to swing). It's honest, approachable, stands up to repeated listenings, and comes studded with vital instrumental interludes--courtesy of superbly intuitive musicians such as violist Eyvind Kang, keyboardist Reggie Watts, guitarist Tim Young, drummer Andy Roth, and electronicist Tucker Martine. It's a lively double bill of intelligent chill-out music made on the spot--and at $12 a ticket, nearly impossible to beat. JAMES KIRCHMER

TORI AMOS
(Paramount) The best Tori Amos song ever is "Professional Widow," which, if I am not mistaken, was written about Courtney Love: "Don't blow those brains yet... we gotta be big... starfucker," etc. It's enraged, unselfconsciously scathing, and totally beautiful. Then it got remixed terribly--we're talking big gay dance remix here--and ended up confusing a whole bunch of the "warm brothers" nationwide. You see, in the remixed version, the part where Tori sings "gotta be big" is sped up, and the end result sounds much like a chipmunk singing, "He's got a big dick." As you may well know, most of the "warm brothers" like the big dicks--perhaps even more than they like the Abercrombie & Fitch, the glowsticks, and the early Bette Midler. As for Tori, well, she's no Bette Midler, but she does have a new record of covers, and she's here to play one of her infamously drippy, sex-with-the-piano-bench live shows in support of it. JEFF DeROCHE

PINBACK, BOILERMAKER, AVEO
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.

HOG MOLLY, JUCIFER, BENT, YOUTH AT RISK
(Local 46) See preview this issue.

LOADED (CD RELEASE), GAZA STRIPPERS, VISQUEEN
(Breakroom) Loaded is former Guns N' Roses bassist (and former Fastback drummer) Duff McKagan's new band. He fronts it, backed by members of Alien Crime Syndicate, New American Shame, and other local musicians. The band's debut CD, Dark Days, is indulgent, bombastic rock structured strictly for arenas, which should blow the doors off of Capitol Hill's relatively tiny Breakroom. Like-minded Gaza Strippers and fast up-and-comer Visqueen fill out tonight's bill. KATHLEEN WILSON

IDOL THREATS, HUDSON FALCONS, WEDNESDAY NIGHT HEROES, PETTY WAGE
(Zak's) New Jersey's Hudson Falcons play self-righteous hardcore with lots of melody, buckets of sentiment, and a strong sense of musicianship. The guitars are solid, the band's four players all sing, and the lyrics--while brash and at times political in that idealistic 10th-grader way that makes hardcore so sweetly unsophisticated--are earnest and self-assured. If you're a fan of melodic hardcore, or if you'd just like to score a solid, energetic night out, this would be a very good band to pick as your entertainment. Plus it's at Zak's, which is now (since Gibson's closed) officially Seattle's finest hesher bar. JEFF DeROCHE

MAKE OUT! ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY
(Baltic Room) I can't say I've been to Make Out!, the "by the ladies for the ladies" dance night. My girlfriend leaves me at home to look at the walls of the quiet apartment and wonder what the lighting is like, what the songs are, what her body positions are on the dance floor, who she's talking to (and how animatedly), what she's drinking, and how voraciously. It's pleasurable, even if left at home, to send the imagination reeling with images of lights and flesh and drink. Ladies are charged $7 each at the door, and gentlemen can attend at a $15 charge if they are accompanied by a lady. But gentlemen like me can sit at home and imagine. Tonight, to celebrate a year of success, DJs Lé Lady Caroline, Eva, and Linda Kennedy provide music. BRIAN GOEDDE

SUPERCHUNK, THE GOOD LIFE, RILO KILEY
(Showbox) The Good Life is the refined and quietly beautiful pop project of Cursive frontman Tim Kasher. Cursive fans will note that Kasher's primal stage energy and raw emotionalism make for an awesome live spectacle, but those who haven't seen the Good Life yet may be as surprised as I was the last time the band came to town. The Good Life is superior to Cursive. Kasher's investment feels equally raw and real in the Good Life, and the songs are more sophisticated, with less bombast and more excellent melody. He sings mostly in his rich, buttery mid-range, and the love songs are terribly moving and sad. The band's last Seattle performance actually made a friend of mine cry. That friend's a sissy, right? I know. But he's like one of the nicest people, so what can I do? See also Stranger Suggests. JEFF DeROCHE

THE BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE, RICK BAINE AND THE GENIUS POSITION, STAGGER LEE
(Sit & Spin) Not much noise has been made for the Brian Jonestown Massacre since 1998's Strung out Like Heaven. The band has had a couple of releases since then (one of which is brand new), but hasn't yet garnered much attention with them. The TVT label dropped the group, and Miranda Richards left for a budding solo career. But after three years of near silence, it seems things have changed for the Brian Jonestown Massacre, and I'm interested to see what the band's been up to. The highlight of this bill should be Portland's Rick Baine and the Genius Position, whose members are fans of '60s psychedelia. Rick Baine has also released a solo recording of the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds that he played out on his own and recorded on a four-track. The sheer genius of just accomplishing that should give you a small idea of what Rick Baine can do. BRYAN BINGOLD

SHARKS KEEP MOVING, SHOW PONY, DJ DEREK FUDESCO
(Graceland) Monday is the only day of rest for non-breakdancers when you're living in the city. Sunday is cheap-beer night. There's usually something interesting and alcoholic to do on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and, as for the weekend (which begins on Thursday), it's all about bingeing and spreading STDs. Apparently Graceland's bookers are of the "no rest for the wicked" school of hard living. Tonight is the first installment of "Monday-Fundays!" which will take place every other week in the club's tiny front lounge. The aim is to create the feeling of a basement show, where everyone is "face to face with a band, looking them straight in the eye, watching the sweat bead down their collective foreheads...." The inaugural installment features Sharks Keep Moving, the mathy emo project with a superstar lineup that includes ex and current members of bands like Pretty Girls Make Graves, Minus the Bear, Blood Brothers, and Kill Sadie. Also on the bill is Show Pony (whom I've never heard) and the comprehensive DJ stylings of Derek Fudesco. JEFF DeROCHE

SPARKLEHORSE, THE ACTUAL TIGERS
(Showbox) See preview this issue.

LOCAL H, SEVEN STOREY, INJECTED
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.

SHANNON WRIGHT, SONGS: OHIA, STRADHOUGHTON ECHO
(Paradox) See preview this issue.

SOLEX, DALEK, PLASTIQ PHANTOM
(Graceland) With three albums of genre-defying chophop under her belt (think Beck before he became a Scientologist), Elisabeth Esselink, a.k.a. Solex, is a wonder to behold. Her 1999 release, Pick Up, kicked it with a bohemian flair, a lackadaisical approach to beat-matching, lo-fi bass lines,and passive-aggressive vocal stylings that are perfect for the bedroom, cafe, or road trips. Her latest effort, Low Kick and Hard Bop, is already a favorite with critics and her continually growing fan base. With tracks like "Shoot Shoot," a personal favorite, it fronts like DJ Premier on morphine. The fact that it even goes there, skipping any hesitation with its outright awkwardness, and is pulled off with such ease, is inspiring. Which makes Solex so fucking brilliant. She dares to go where her predecessors don't, and makes a whole lot of something out of nothing. FRANK NIETO

MIDNIGHT OIL, WILL HOGE
(Showbox) Though the band was together in the '70s, most of Midnight Oil's international success came around 1987, a time when it was actually very exciting for music to be political. Frontman Peter Garrett railed against the evils of uranium mining, rallied for worker's rights, ran for Australian Senate... the list goes on. And all the while, Garrett seemed to stand (well, literally stood) about a foot taller than any other rock and roll star prancing around on MTV at the time. Diesel and Dust was the big record. I once owned it, but I couldn't remember the name today, so I looked it up. That said, I'm sort of happy to know that Midnight Oil is still around, and I somehow can't help feeling a bit of nostalgic excitement about this show. JEFF DeROCHE

SARAH DOUGHER (CD RELEASE), ADULT RODEO, ALAN WILEY
(Crocodile) I never remember those personnel facts that music buffs adore: which producer collaborated with who on which B-side track of what EP, featuring what guitar player from which side-project band. But for those of you who obsess about this kind of thing, you must already know that Ms. Sarah Dougher is like a fragrant tea bag steeped in a milky cup of cred. There's her Cadallaca-and-the-Crabs pedigree, and the subsequent connections/comparisons to Sleater-Kinney. There's her whole Olympia/Portland/Ladyfest/grrrl rock-punk-folk background. And there are her recent releases on K and Mr. Lady (the thoughtful Day One; the rich and melodic The Walls Ablaze; and her new album, Bluff), which showcase Dougher's intelligent songwriting and quirkily beautiful alto. Her live shows are bare and lovely, and they bring a sense of calm and clarity to those in the crowd. Dougher's performances can feel like intense 3:00 a.m. conversations, colored with wisdom and conviction. Plus, I can never resist revealing the fact that she's a writer and college professor in Oregon, with a Ph.D. in comparative lit. Damn. MIN LIAO