THURSDAY 11/18

BUTCHIES, BITCH, LKN, T-REXXXA
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) Back when I was a high school student in ever-so-enlightened Clackamas, Oregon, Team Dresch were my saving grace. Three really cute dykes who rocked hard and played plenty of all ages shows: what could be better? I was crushed when they split, but luckily, a whole new generation of baby dykes have a new favorite band in the Butchies. Allison Martlew and Melissa York join former Dreschette Kaia Wilson, and they make gender identity issues go pop. It's like an intro to women's studies course with guitars. As an added bonus, they named their new record Make Yr Life; a lovelier homage to the halcyon days of riot grrl and typewritten per-zines I could not imagine. It almost makes me feel better about Le Tigre selling out. CORTNEY HARDING



GREEN DAY
(Rose Garden, 1401 N Wheeler) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 11



CHARLIE HUNTER TRIO, LYRICS BORN, SEX MOB, BENEVENTO, RUSSO DUO, CRITTERS BUGGIN, MATT HAIMOVITZ, DJ RICH MEDINA
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Ropeadope Records aims to make you rethink your prejudices about the lovely word "eclectic." The Brooklyn label's biannual traveling New Music Seminar coaxes many of its diverse artists to play unpredictable, nonstop, four-hour sets by night and give lectures on music in schools by day. Quannum Project rapper Lyrics Born injects soul and intelligence into indie hiphop; Sex Mob apply a cheeky, jovial veneer to spy-flick jazz and porn-film funk; Charlie Hunter, Bobby Previte, and DJ Olive (as Groundtruther) revive experimental jazz for the new millennium; Critters Buggin's world-class cellist Matt Haimovitz plays Bach; Benevento/Russo Duo and DJ Rich Medina round out this entertaining, edifying evening. DAVE SEGAL



LAIBACH, BONFIRE MADIGAN
(Sabala's Mt Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) When asked if they are fascist, the Eastern European group, Laibach, replies "We are fascists as much as Hitler was a painter." Laibach is the most successful 20-year art project ever perpetrated. They produce some so-so disco industrial music, but the real reason why you should not miss this show is that it will be a totally straight-faced pseudo-fascist rally. The real joke is that these guys haven't broken character once. Haven't you always wanted an excuse to dress like a Nazi just for a night? JENNA ROADMAN



LEIGH MARBLE, JOHN WAYNE SAMURAIS, MORGAN GRACE, POINT JUNCTURE, WA
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) In celebration of his first proper full-length release, Leigh Marble--who moonlights as part of joke-rap ensemble Buttery Lords--buckles down for an exercise in heart-sleeve earnest folk-pop. As with so many like-mindedly inoffensive songwriters, Peep is well-crafted and clean to a fault--a Pro Tools perfect collection of not terrible (nor terribly interesting) pop that's remarkably easy to swallow. ZAC PENNINGTON



TYPICAL CATS, BLUE SCHOLARS, OUTER LIMITZ, MESTIZO, HOSTALION
(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) At the level of the music (by DJ Sabzi), and the level of the raps (by MC Geologic), Seattle's Blue Scholars use hiphop properly. The recordings on the duo's self-titled debut CD, which was released earlier this year, were produced with very little or no waste. And hiphop these days is suffocated by a sea of waste--wasted rhymes, wasted beats, wasted rap consumers. In the hands of the Blue Scholars, the equipment of hiphop is fully utilized to communicate experiences that, be they personal or existential, are always socially significant. The Blue Scholars are Seattle's Lifesavas. CHARLES MUDEDE



VAZ, APE SHAPE, DIESTO
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Vaz, the duo of Jeff Mooridian and Apollo Liftoff, have played together since the '90s and moved together across the country from their home base of Minneapolis. Like Load labelmates USAISAMONSTER, the pair seem content as rock nomads, though both groups have set down tentative roots in Brooklyn. From early exercises in dark guitar and drums power noise that veered into Wipers territory, the group is getting, dare we say, more upbeat. Their latest is called Dying to Meet You (GSL), and Vaz are way more focused on song structure than their masked spazz-out peers, but we thank them for it. GEORGE CHEN



VISQUEEN, DIRTY LOWDOWNS, CLOROX GIRLS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Alright, so nobody's claiming that power-pop is rocket science--but crafting power-pop that somehow shines above the quagmire of the genre's middling history is nearly as complex a science. Which is why Seattle's Visqueen--the inter-gendered trio featuring the Fastbacks' Kim Warnick--are such remarkably apt torch-bearers. The sort of perfect that only power-pop can deliver, Visqueen recently toured with the Muffs--a relationship which is as close a testament to the band's sound as I could possibly muster on paper. ZP



FRIDAY 11/19

DRATS!!!, MONKEY FUR, DIGITAL KNIFE, JR. PRIVATE DETECTIVE
(Sabala's Mt Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Tonight's the CD release of Suicide Candy, the EP debut from Drats!!! Defiant enough of genre that they're difficult to describe without reference, think a less intellectual Faith No More, an un-political Dead Kennedys, a touch of whatever Half Japanese has got, with a spike ofÉ Blues Traveler. Hyper and half serious, this is one hell of an artistic vision. MARJORIE SKINNER



GRAND MASTER FLASH, ILLOGICAL, DORKWAD, DJ SHINES, MR. ROMO
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Grandmaster Flash is not about the present and will never be about the future; he is solely about the past, about the birth of hiphop. This is why I and others will watch this show tonight: Flash invented scratching with Grandwizard Theodore, hung out with a young and beautiful Debbie Harry, and was the first to release a record entirely composed of other records, "The Amazing Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel" (1981). Ultimately, it is his past (the sacrifices he made to obtain rare albums and mixing equipment, the hours he spent practicing cuts and inventing a whole new art form) that makes him what he is to us today: a living saint. CM



LIBRETTO, COOL NUTZ, BOOM BAP PROJECT, WOLVERINE
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) With this, the night of a thousand local CD release parties (see Drats!!! at Sabala's, Dr. Theopolis at Bossanova, Floater at the Crystal, Stereovision at Dante's, Ditty Twisters at White Eagle, etc, ad infinitum), our money is most certainly with Libretto, who's finally celebrating the release of his Dim Mak full-length debut Ill-oet. Following the Lifesavas, Libretto is the first to blow from out of Portland's own Misfit Massive Crew--and doing so with the unlikely support of bratty L.A. punk label Dim Mak. To help usher in the festivities, Libretto is flanked this evening by fellow Misfit Wolverine, local stalwart Cool Nutz, and Seattle's beloved Boom Bap Project. ZP



PARTICLE, DJ HARRY
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Boulder, Colorado house DJ Harry had the unenviable task of transforming the String Cheese Incident's noodling jams into streamlined dance tracks on 2001's The String Cheese Remix Project. SCI thanked him this year by releasing Harry's Collision on their own label. Collision's a solid clutch of slinky downtempo funk and organic house deepness, all of which is played live (no samples used). L.A. quartet Particle create the sort of spacey, blippy funk jams guys on Viagra should bonk to. Thousands of jam-band freaks undoubtedly have been writhing to Particle's serpentine psychedelic improvisations, and you too may succumb to their thrusting charms. DAVE SEGAL



PUMA FRENZY
(Devil's Point, 5305 SE Foster) With more than a hint of the Cars and Elvis Costello, Puma Frenzy's streamlined power pop benefits from a snotty singer so sure that his band is the greatest thing ever that, more often than not, one comes around to his point of view. Though he occasionally misfires lyrically (the '80s nostalgia plagued "My Reagan Years" is only marginally better than Bowling for Soup's "1985"), the band's new material is so catchy that it seems only a matter of time before one hears "Top Gear" every 37 minutes on modern rock radio. I, for one, would really like to hear "Top Gear" every 37 minutes on modern rock radio. Can you hear me modern rock radio? Every 37 minutes! KIP BERMAN



SATURDAY 11/20

BLUES EXPLOSION, THE GOSSIP
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See CD Reviews, Pg 13



DEL THE FUNKEE HOMOSAPIEN, HAIKU DE TAT, ZION-I, BUKUE ONE, ABSTRACT RUDE
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Eggs alone are a decent snack, but it takes an omelet, potatoes, and toast to make a real meal. And that's what we've got here with Haiku D'etat--three good MC's coming together to form one great group. Collaborators Aceyalone, Mikah 9, and Abstract Rude released a brilliant jazz-based, soulful (where lyrics are sung as much as rapped), socially conscious album in 1999. Then they dissolved. The album went out of print. It figured to be one of those one-time studio sessions--where everything went just right--truly a time and a place. And five years later, all of a sudden they're back with another album that's just as hot as the first. ANDREW TONRY



ENGORGED, IMPALED, BUNG, FUNEROT
(Conan's, 3862 SE Hawthorne) It is critical that metal bands take their music seriously. Ironic indie sheep-in-wolf's clothing have desecrated the heavy tradition with their often misguided, tongue-in-cheek approach (Fucking Champs, this means you), so much that it has become increasingly difficult to separate great extreme acts with innate senses of humor from the chaff that poke fun at the entire genre. Impaled may not throw books at the crowd or dress up as T.V. aliens, but their sadistic lyrical/conceptual bent toward all things medical and malign is as much an unwavering identity as any concept band could devise. Taking footnotes from texts Carcass expounded in their seminal "Symphonies of Sickness," Impaled blast, grind, shred, and mutilate with honest ferocity that has taken the SF quartet only a few corpuscles away from the metal big leagues. This blood-soaked institution only hosts seminars here so often; prepare for evisceration that doesn't lack a spine. NATHAN CARSON



GIRLSCHOOL, DIRTY POWER, KLEVELEND
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music, Pg 15



BRUCE HORNSBY
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Factoid: Hornsby met Huey Lewis at 20th Century Fox in L.A. in 1980, and it took six friggin' years for RCA to bust out "The Way It Is", the only B.H. song you know. After that, Don Henley totally ripped him off. Did you notice? In the early '80s, piano-driven pop was what it is now to Vanessa Carlton, Michelle Branch, and Rachel Yamagata: smooth, fake-sophisticate organic stabs against the day's more angular, mechanized hits. But with dudes, so there's more of a chilled-out pussy vibe than the erudite coolness key-tickling post-teens exert. I mean, what's more smooth than Hornsby throwing his hands up, laissez-faire style, and whispering "That's just the way it is/ Some things will never change" in the bustling, glitzy Reaganomics of '86? Not much, and now's an apropos time to dip yr ears in his easy tunes. JOAN HILLER



PINBACK, NEIL HAMBURGER, THE ADVANTAGE
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) See Bio, Pg 25; My, What a Busy Week! Pg 11



SUNDAY 11/21

BLITZEN TRAPPER, DESERT CITY SOUNDTRACK, JUNIOR PRIVATE DETECTIVE, KIESKAGATO, SILICONE HEADS
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Formerly known as Garmonbozia--experimental genre-jumpers with no respect for the typical head-bobber attention span--Blitzen Trapper have adopted a pristine country indie-pop focus and crank out the hookiest twang-tunes around. Don't get too comfortable though, because just when you think you've figured out the perfect foot-tapping, snapping, and head-nod pattern, they'll whip out some '60s-pop Beatles shit on you. JR



DAVID GARZA
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Lou Diamond Phillips look alike David (say, "Dah-VEED") Garza was on a Best Buy commercial way back when where he played a snippet of song and boasted, "I'm David Garza. You don't know me. But you will!"It was optimistic and brave, but it didn't happen. Garza, a native Texan, never made it big, never became a MTV buzz-binner or a next big Billboard whatever. Which is sad. Sad because crushed hopes are sad, and because he deserves a lot more than culty obscurity. His new release, Strange Mess of Flowers, is pop informed by Mexican traditional music, '50s rock 'n' roll, and Elvis Costello. Oh, and it's four CDs, 71 tracks, and a DVD! Nice! AG



PHILLIP GREENLIEF, JOELLE LEANDREW
(Blue Monk, 3341 SE Belmont) Saxophonist Phillip Greenlief has long been one of the most aggressively active but subtle-of-profile musicians in the Bay Area's endlessly burgeoning jazz scene. His literate, deconstructionist playing has graced the music of everyone from Anthony Braxton to They Might Be Giants, and his own projects have ranged from theater and dance scores to solo saxophone tours of Russia. For the last few years Greenlief and his Evander Music label have been at the forefront of defining a new generation of jazz musicians, artists who have truly and fully absorbed the full breadth of the last few decades of experimental and popular genres and are using all of that knowledge to invent the future of the music. SAM MICKENS



MONDAY 11/22

KULT OV AZAZEL, TERATISM, SCORCHED EARTH, SUMURIA
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) Some black metal bands can appeal to high-culture connoisseurs, with their pseudo-classical keyboard accents and operatic female vocals. The Swarm of Eternal Darkness tour spotlights groups that spit upon such adornments, abrasive nihilists who thrive on trembling-earth drum thumps and a vocal style that brings to mind possession-provoked projectile vomiting. It's obvious that deep thought went into these demonic diatribes, and that philosophical fervor turns this dark discipline into an almost academic exercise. ANDREW MILLER



LE TIGRE, ROBOSAPIENS, LESBIANS ON ECSTASY
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Lesbians on Ecstasy is an even better name than Chicks on Speed, and their image is, too. Their hyper-active, ranty third-wave feminism crashing into new wave terrorism is from--where else?--Montreal, and the Lesbians are fronted by Fruity Frankie, who has Peaches' swagger and shake without the art school hang-ups. Using samples galore, keyboards, and a mix of electronic beats and live drums, they plunder the lyrical obsessions of a hundred dykes reimagining the Michigan Women's Music Festival as a blend of hard techno, electro punk, and pop. Best of all they make you want to dance, even to their Cuisinart cutup of k.d. lang's toxic "Constant Craving" (the dyke "I Will Always Love You") turning it into an anti-consumerist rant that you can dance on the grave of. NATE LIPPENS



TUESDAY 11/23

AVRIL LAVIGNE, BUTCH WALKER
(Rose Garden, 1401 N Wheeler) See Music, Pg 13



THE START, PARIS TEXAS, DRIVE, THE ACADEMY IS...
(Davey Jones' Locker, 5925 SE Foster) At one point, The Start seemed headed to MTV omnipresence. Skunk-haired frontwoman Aimee Echo's charismatic stage presence and girly/growly vocal versatility positioned her between Gwen Stefani's eager accessibility and Kim Gordon's icy indie cool. As it turned out, The Start was too strange for stardom. As a lyricist, Echo often swims against the tide, curdling cheerful melodies with her dour delivery or whistling past grave backdrops. While such jarring moves might not bode well for chart success, they play well in small clubs, where The Start's comprehensive emotional approach makes for refreshingly complete concerts. AM



WEDNESDAY 11/24

BURY YOUR DEAD, SCARS OF TOMORROW, A PERFECT MURDER, THE ACACIA STRAIN, WITHIN ARMS REACH
(Solid State, 215 SE 9th) Every track on the new Bury Your Dead album bears the name of a Tom Cruise film. That devotion doesn't extend to tailoring the tunes to the movies' moods. "Legend" isn't a prog-rock fantasy, "Top Gun" isn't cheesy beach-volleyball background fodder, "Risky Business" isn't old time rock 'n' roll, and "Vanilla Sky" isn't comprised of shrill, sour notes that never form a cohesive whole. Instead, Bury Your Dead goes full-throttle, "Days of Thunder"-style, with its brutal breakdowns serving as mosh pit stops. AM



EVERCLEAR, AVION, MICHAEL TOLCHER
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) When you think of Everclear, forget about "Santa Monica," "Heroin Girl," and even "Heartspark Dollarsign." Instead focus on "Volvo-Driving Soccer Mom," with the lines, "Where do all the porn stars go?/ When the lights go down?/ I think I know where all the porn stars go/ They all become Volvo-driving soccer moms." Where, I'd like to ask, do all the sobered-up and pissed-off post-grunge rockers go when the lights go down? I think I know where all the sober and pissed off post-grunge rockers go, they all become boring adult-contemporary songwriting bums. MEGAN SELING



IQU, GOLD CHAINS, DEATH SENTENCE PANDA
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See CD Review, Pg 13



(SMOG), SIX ORGANS OF ADMITTANCE
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd Ave) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 11