eE, CHARMING SNAKES, THE GETTER FLASH
(Crocodile) See Stranger Suggests.
SEAN CROGHAN
(Liquid Lounge at EMP) Formerly the frontman for Crackerbash, Portland's Sean Croghan is an enduring Northwest singer-songwriter--part tired curmudgeon, part wistful romantic. Croghan sings honestly and un-self-consciously. His voice cracks and his falsettos sometimes fail, but his lyrics are stunning in their bald simplicity. His recent CD, From Burnt Orange to Midnight Blue (In Music We Trust) is full of cranky observations (girls don't love him because they're happier dating assholes), but manages to convey a veiled hopefulness too. While the Liquid Lounge's quiet confines might limit the singer's normally impassioned vocals, it should invite the kind of intimacy that provides the perfect backdrop for Croghan's beautifully candid songwriting. KATHLEEN WILSON
FREEZER JAM: DJ VITAL & SHIZAM, CLAUDE MONEY, LEVY LEE
(Fremont Unconventional Center) This freezer party is a benefit for Studio X, a pirate radio station, and the Independent Media Center, two collectives that improve the condition of Seattle's intellectual discourse. That is all fine and good, but DJ Vital--who is co-sponsoring this show--also told me that a principal reason for having this event is to cultivate a regular DJ/dance/performance space that is not downtown or on Capitol Hill, which would improve the city tremendously. The DJs are slanted toward only the most tasteful and dance-oriented hiphop (Vital was the mastermind of Bump at Nation until last August); Shizam will add live saxophone; Digital Space Monkeys will provide live hiphop; and there will be a crew of breakdancers. By the way, "Freezer Jam" refers to the space this event will take place in: It is across the street from the Redhook Brewery, and used to be the giant freezer for all the kegs. BRIAN GOEDDE
PROJECT W
(Garde Rail Gallery) Project W is saxophonist Wally Shoup's oldest group. When their album came out in 1996, it made Cadence magazine's top 10 list. In 1998, they opened for Sonic Youth's Thousand Leaves tour at the Moore. Tonight, Project W will be performing for the opening of an exhibit of Wally Shoup's own folksy paintings at the Garde Rail Gallery in Columbia City. You can see the paintings anytime through the end of March, but the reason you should go tonight is because Shoup is on fire as a performer right now. Every show has been nothing short of masterful. Despite its label, good free jazz is never "free." It simply means that the room to improvise takes precedence over the traditional structure of jazz. Shoup's type of free jazz is fiery, true, and controlled. His alto sings. Notes scuttle eloquently up and down the register. He's got deep pockets filled with hooks. His tone and method have become unmistakably his own. What pushes his playing to the top, however, is the man's incredible ear: He can hear a tiny opening in what his band is doing and push them in a surprising direction. All this makes for a lively performance and music that you've never heard before but always wanted to. KREG HASEGAWA
VERA BIRTHDAY PARTY w/TRACHTENBURG FAMILY SLIDESHOW PLAYERS, THE PINKOS, PAXIL ROSE
(Local 46) See preview this issue.
SOFCON, SKYLOBBY, NAHA, OTA PROTA
(I-Spy) White rap is innocent rap. There's nothing foul, hard, monstrous, or challenging about it. White rap is more a dorky project--from Vanilla Ice's dance moves to Eyedea's hyper rhymes to the dopest white nerds the Beastie Boys--than the urgent expression found in most black rap. (This is true except for Eminem, of course, but he's aggressively challenging hiphop altogether, not just being a white participant in it.) So when Sofcon--a white boy-and-girl combo--grab the mic and talk about "wack MCs" and having hit songs, it's entirely unconvincing and dorky. But this white innocence is precisely the group's charm--especially the female MC, Nicky, who builds the most silly and appealing narratives ("Yo, I want to give you a call, but why bother/it's been about a year, or maybe even longer/found your number in some pants that I don't wear no more/at first I just glanced, and then I was like 'Whoa!'") with her soft voice. BRIAN GOEDDE
DJ MOSES, JON LEMMON, REID OKUMURA
(Baltic Room) My favorite DJ music to hear live is the type that divorces the idea of "music" from the idea of "song." Songs make you stop, think, and look around to see what kind of atmosphere you are in, where DJ music becomes the atmosphere itself--the walls, the furniture, the personalities. Certain DJs create a continuous stream of music without breaks, pauses, or even shifts in tone. Melodies, verse-chorus constructions, and other features of traditional "songs" can be mixed in, but they are so woven into the fabric of the DJ set that there remains no self-contained "song" to speak of. As much as I love the DJ for this, it is not the DJ's innovation to claim. To my knowledge, every culture in the world has forms of music that are designed without endings in mind, and such forms usually exist for the purpose of dancing. This is where San Francisco's DJ Moses comes in. "DJ music" is usually synonymous with "electronic music," but the sounds DJ Moses chooses for his continuous flow are organic; often there are house beats to give his tracks foundation, but the music is more "jammy" than that of most DJs. In his book The Gutenberg Galaxy, Media/technology theorist Marshall McLuhan speculated that late-20th-century technology would usher in an era of "new tribalism," and although he was kind of a loon, while listening to DJ Moses I couldn't help but think McLuhan was onto something. DJ Moses will also play at the Corner Bar on Friday, after hours at the Bohemian on Saturday, and at EMP's Liquid Lounge on Tuesday. BRIAN GOEDDE
PAISLEY SIN, IVAN, ZEN DRIVER
(Central) Journey with me, if you will, to a fabled place that lives on only in legend. The year is 1990. Pioneer Square's Central Tavern is swimming in a sea of hair, flannel, distortion, and beer. Johnny and Donny the doormen are keeping the peace, the P-Square frat contingent knows enough to stay next door at the J&M Cafe, and grunge is indisputably king. Last week you missed Alice in Chains showcasing material from its upcoming Sony debut because you were puking in the bathroom. Tomorrow night Soundgarden will be rocking the house for a KCMU Brain Pain benefit under the assumed name Vince Whirlwind and the Nude Dragons. A quick scan of the schedule posted by the door reveals that Mother Love Bone, Hungry Crocodiles, and Unearth all have shows you want to catch in the coming weeks. You break off from chatting up a chick (you noticed her up front at that packed Melvins show a few weeks back at the Vogue) to glance up at the stage. Paisley Sin is doing its take on good-time party rock, and the crowd is drunkenly bobbing along with the band. Actually, the year is 2002 and the show is tonight. Bathtub Gin recently played a reunion gig too. It's as if the last decade never happened.... DAN PAULUS
SUZANNE VEGA
(Moore Theater) After several albums designed to make the audio engineers of the world drool with envy, the megatalent named Suzanne Vega has produced a record without her longtime collaborator/producer/ex-husband Mitchell Froom. Actually, to say without Froom is a misnomer, because he's present in many of the tunes on Songs in Red and Gray, as a character, or specter, or goat. The record is full of Vega's trademark lyrical discursiveness, as well as her trademark emotional candor, which serves to make the record a harrowing romantic post-mortem. Divorced--as it were--from Froom's aural sfumato (along with engineer/partner Tchad Blake, Froom is the reigning master of sonic texture, though their "sound" runs the risk of obscuring whatever band it serves), Vega is more nakedly exposed than on past records, which is only appropriate given the brutal subject matter. If you only know her via the hits "Luka" and "Tom's Diner," you've got some catching up to do. SEAN NELSON
FU MANCHU, LOADED, INJECTED, HEADSTRONG
(Graceland) Stoner rock has rarely been heavier (or simpler) than that of Southern California's Fu Manchu. The most leaden and riff-heavy '70s rock influences are given an extra dose of groove-laden psychedelia, as well as an ample amount of what may or may not be irony--it's hard to tell if this is unabashed tribute or we're-all-in-on-it comedy. Former Guns N' Roses bassist Duff McKagan fronts the minutely less-heavy Loaded. He's backed by former New American Shame member Geoff Reading and Alien Crime Syndicate's Mike Squires and Jeff Rouse. KATHLEEN WILSON
SOUND OFF!: AARON RICHNER & THE BLUES DRIVERS, ASAHI, MAGNETIC NORTH
(EMP) This is the first of four battle-of-the-young-bands competitions the EMP will be staging this month, affirmative-action style, to further promote the presence of youth in Seattle's music scene. On each of the first three Saturdays in February, a semi-finals competition will be conducted, and then, on the 23rd, the finalists will compete for recording equipment, recording studio time, a live performance on KEXP, and an opening slot for a national touring act at EMP. Apparently, the artists competing fall between the approximate ages of 17 and 19, and the events are, of course, all-ages. And while I can't guarantee that any of the artists performing will be any good, I'm excited. After all, as history has shown us time and time again, rock is for the young and the young only. An astonishing ejaculation of youthful élan, and then, in a flash, it's dead. Just like that, motherfucker. Sad, really. JEFF DeROCHE
ABSURD MUSIC: ELDERS OF ZION--LORI GOLDSTON, ROBERT JENKINS, w/ JESSIKA KENNEY, LLOYD CENTER
(Vital 5) Between the Rainbow's Oxygen Lounge Mondays, Coffee Messiah's Cognitive Dissidents Tuesdays, the on-again, off-again SIL2K, and the smattering of ensembles that get gigs where they can, Seattle is displaying a taste for "experimental" music. Always the envelope-pusher, the art gallery Vital 5 is taking it a step further by hosting this night of absurd music. Elders of Zion describe their music as a "stripped-down Powerbook-dub format." The group features Lori Goldston, a cellist and leader of the Black Cat Orchestra, guitarist Robert Jenkins, and vocalist Jessika Kenney. Jenkins will also present a brief talk on the subject of absurd music, in case, you know, you don't get it. The night is curated by indie-rock elder statesman Rich Jensen, who is currently at work on starting Clear Cut, a Northwest publishing and distribution company. BRIAN GOEDDE
TEEN CTHULHU, AKIMBO, DJ SPENCER MOODY
(Graceland) I wouldn't be surprised if I read the papers the day after this show and they said that Graceland's front wall had exploded, sending hundreds of hardcore fans out onto Eastlake Ave., as if in a war movie. Limbs will be tangled and bleeding, moans will be heard from far away, and a deadly silence will permeate the air. Teen Cthulhu can do that to you, violently attacking your senses with melodic hardcore--an assault you can't help but thank the band for. BRYAN BINGOLD
THE BEND, FEED, COMFORT STATION 22
(Graceland) Listen up, dumbo, I'm not sure where you heard that discovering tomorrow's hot bands today was a snap, but it's just not true. It requires hard work and a teacher's patience. Take, for example, tonight's show at Graceland with the Bend and Feed. Unless you're in one of the bands, you know nothing about either of them (and even if you play bass in one, you may still be cloudy on the details). However, do what it takes and there's a very real chance they'll know you as the Great Discoverer of Ditty, the Columbus of Cool. It won't be easy dragging that ample ass through the bitter cold Tuesday night, but your reward will be an unobstructed view of two experienced yet critically unsung bands, both comfortable reaching toward the unattainable heights of Radiohead and older R.E.M. while not looking foolishly derivative. Yet you must also be patient, as both are bound for greater things but must struggle through not-so-greater songs on the path. Not every Aerosmith song was good enough for a car ad, but how badass would you sound saying, "You homies quiet down, 'cause I was straight there when Janie first GOT that gun!" JOSH UHLIR
You're a virgin who can't drive.
