Here's the rundown from last night at The Waiting Room:

John Klemmensen (along with his band, The Party) took the evening to exorcise his personal demons. Backed by a large-ish band that included all the usual instruments plus a two-man horn section and keyboards, Klemmensen, with his trusty acoustic guitar, divulged a set full of his private confessions, snapshots of a man lost and struggling along a crossroads that is wholly his own. The indie rock songs weren't so much somber as downcast, with a tendency to build to a theatrical climax. Klemmensen has a voice tailor-made for soul and funk, though last night the style was similar to what he does in Landing on the Moon -- arty self-referential acoustic rock. Covers included songs by Iggy and Maria done up in Klemmensen style. Good crowd response.

The contrast with Dance Me Pregnant was, well, bracing. DMP is sort of a supergroup of indie punk featuring some familiar faces from other local bands including John Vredenburg and Jeff Ankenbauer from The Shanks, Cory Broman (Art in Manila) and Chris Machmuller (Ladyfinger). The end product was cleaner than The Shanks (no surprise there) but heavier than The Dinks. All eyes were on Ankenbauer, who stood center stage, wrapped the microphone cord around his head and screamed. It's as turbulent as you'd expect. Unfortunately, their set was cut short when Vredenburg broke a bass string. The opening bands' bass players apparently had already left the building to grab some dinner, and of course there is no bass in 1090 Club. Without a replacement (or a replacement string) Dance Me Pregnant called it a night, a true case of coitus interruptus.

I only hung around for the first few songs by 1090 Club. A four-piece -- drums, guitar, keyboards, violin -- their style was sometimes pretty, sometimes slightly dissonant low-key indie rock heavy on drama. Not bad, though by the time they played, half of the 30 people on hand had left for the evening.

* * *

There are about one million things going on this rare Friday night Halloween. I'm not a Halloween kind of guy, which means I don't dress up in costume, which means there's a high likelihood that I'll be staying home tonight instead of going out to mingle with the drunken masses. As I say every year, when did Halloween become New Year's Eve become St. Patrick's Day? The bars have got to love it, as do the cops. It's only a matter of time until Easter and Columbus Day also become just another reason to tie one on. (Thank you, East-da Bunny.)

So anyway, here are the highlights as I see them:

Tonight at Slowdown Jr., it's Rig 1 a.k.a Team Rigge headlining a show featuring Little Brazil, Dim Light, and Fortnight. My pseudo survey of last night's crowd indicates that this is where most of the music folks will be hanging out. $7, 9 p.m.

Over at The Waiting Room, The Song Remains the Same headlines a show that also features Satchel Grande and The Lizard King -- a Doors tribute band. This being Halloween -- when people just want to unwind/get drunk -- expect a large, rowdy crowd. $7, 9 p.m.

The Barley St. has a big line-up with Thunder Power, Sleep Said the Monster, Brad Hoshaw and the Seven Deadlies, Malpais and Kid Theodore. If all these bands show up at the same time, there won't be any room for anyone else. $4, 9 p.m.

Cover band Secret Weapon will be tearing it up over at The 49'r. $5, 9 p.m.

While The Saddle Creek Bar is featuring a night of metal with a bunch of bands I don't know, along with a costume contest. No idea on the cover.

The good times just keep on rolling Saturday night -- expect to see people eking out every last bit of "hilarity" from their costumes. There's a rare show over at The Brothers featuring The Coffin Killers and The Dinks. Cover is $5, with all money going to help pay the bills of a young woman in need of a lung transplant. It'll be a good time for a good cause.

Meanwhile, over at O'Leaver's, Coyote Bones is playing with It's True. Rumor has it this could be the last-ever Coyote Bones show. $5, 9 p.m.

Finally, on Sunday, it's The King Khan & BBQ Show, this time at The Waiting Room with Women and Box Elders. $10, 9 p.m., while down at Slowdown Jr. it's Margo & the Nuclear So and So's with Wild Sweet Orange and Skypiper. $8, 9 p.m.

Happy Hallow…

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's Billings Montana indie band 1090 Club with Bay Area singer/songwriter Michael Zapruder (Sidecho Records), and locals John Klemmensen & The Party and Dance Me Pregnant. You might remember Klemmensen from Landing on the Moon and Satchel Grande. His new project involves material he's been writing for awhile backed by an all-star band that includes Mike Deages, Ben Zinn, James Cuaato, Jason Ferguson, Matt Hall, Meg Morgan, Eric Harris and more. $7, 9 p.m.

Also tonight, Iowa City's Samuel Locke-Ward (Miracles of God) and Las Vegas act The Bassturd are playing at The Attic, 3231 Harney St. (Note, this show is listed on Locke-Ward's and Bassturd's Myspace pages but isn't listed on the Attic page, so buyer beware.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's Billings Montana indie band 1090 Club with Bay Area singer/songwriter Michael Zapruder (Sidecho Records), and locals John Klemmensen & The Party and Dance Me Pregnant. You might remember Klemmensen from Landing on the Moon and Satchel Grande. His new project involves material he's been writing for awhile backed by an all-star band that includes Mike Deages, Ben Zinn, James Cuaato, Jason Ferguson, Matt Hall, Meg Morgan, Eric Harris and more. $7, 9 p.m.

Also tonight, Iowa City's Samuel Locke-Ward (Miracles of God) and Las Vegas act The Bassturd are playing at The Attic, 3231 Harney St. (Note, this show is listed on Locke-Ward's and Bassturd's Myspace pages but isn't listed on the Attic page, so buyer beware.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

The Rig 1 recording just seemed to come out of nowhere about a week ago, as did the Rig 1 CD release show slated for this Friday night (Halloween) at Slowdown. Ian McElroy is living in New York these days, specifically Bushwick, Brooklyn, where he says he's making a living as a prop assistant for fashion shoots. It's a hustle, but he says it pays the bills. As mentioned below, he'll be following in the footsteps of Mars Black, another Team Love MC, who went on the road opening for a Conor Oberst project. Will that valuable opening slot translate to new fans and CD sales? Time will tell. But one thing's for certain, McElroy has his work cut out for him. I'm assuming Conor will be playing on stages as big or bigger than the one he performed on at The Anchor Inn last month. That's a lot of space to fill for one guy with a microphone (backed by two musicians). The only way Rig 1 is going to work on such a large stage is if McElroy can get the crowd "into" his set and his music -- a challenge for even the most seasoned MCs.

Column 196: Rig 1 Rising
The return of Team Rigge.

These days, Ian McElroy's hip-hop crew goes by the name Rig 1. It used to be called Team Rigge, the secret endeavor of Omaha's indie rock elite, a project that remained secret to everyone but the few in on the joke.

It all began almost 10 years ago with McElroy and a handful of Creighton Prep juniors that included his cousin Conor Oberst. "We used to clean the Rigge Science Center," McElroy told me from somewhere in Brooklyn. "We were really bad workers. Our first raps were about cleaning the halls."

Rigge became a sort of side project, whose first recording was heard as a pretrack on Criteria's 2003 debut. The only way to find it was by dropping the CD in the player and hitting the "rewind" button to discover -- voila! -- something preceded the first track. At the time, Oberst lived next door to Criteria's Stephen Pedersen in a small house just north of Dundee. The two shared recording equipment along with a copy of Pro Tools. "That (recording) was me and Conor, and the girl was Jenny Lewis," McElroy said. "Conor was the last verse; the first two are me."

Oberst and McElroy had already emerged in an above-ground rock project called Desaparecidos. But quietly and in spare time, Rigge lived on with a crew that included everyone from fellow Desa member Denver Dalley, Little Brazil's Dan Maxwell, Son Ambulance's Joe Knapp and The Faint's Clark Baechle.

It was with Baechle that Team Rigge appeared on stage for a one-off gig opening for Broken Spindles Oct. 24, 2003, at Sokol Underground. The two-man crew's rapping over prerecorded tracks was stiff, suburban and downright goofy, with McElroy telling the crowd, "You can bob your heads to the beat if you want to." A few did.

McElroy and Baechle ended up doing some recording, which showed up as mp3 files on the just-launched Team Love website in 2004. And then Rigge disappeared. Baechle became too busy with The Faint, and the duo parted ways.

McElroy said his life also got too crowded for Team Rigge. "I would still mess around with songs and stuff on my own in the basement," he said. "And then I just kind of started realizing, 'If you're going to do this, do it now.'"

So a couple years ago, McElroy found new collaborators including Mike Bloom, a.k.a. Caveman, who played in The Elected and Rilo Kiley; a guy called Nez Beat, and finally, Andy Lemaster, the Athens, Georgia, wunderkind whose projects include Now It's Overhead.

"I've known Andy for over 10 years," McElroy said. "He would be in town and I got to hang out with him. I trusted his ear and he told me he wanted to do a hip-hop project."

Though A.J. and Mike Mogis worked on the recording, it was Lemaster who put his signature production on Tree Line West of the Periodic, the 10-track debut released Oct. 7 on Team Love Records -- credited not to Team Rigge, but to Rig 1.

With its dense production, the CD sounds atmospheric, layered in cinematic drama. McElroy's flow is urgent and nearly rhythmless, like someone being chased by the cops trying to leave a desperate message on an answering machine before the noose drops over his head. There is rhyme, there is alliteration, there is emphasis on certain words that hit atop the beat. But unlike, say, Beastie Boys or Eminem, McElroy's style doesn't swing as much as spit. Birmingham MC The Streets comes to mind in comparison, a guy known for his stilted, sometimes-funny rhymes laced in British brogue. But while The Streets' lyrics deal with everyday class struggles in bonny ol' England, McElroy's messages are more cryptic, even quasi-spiritual.

Take "Dirty Little Sica" with its free-verse opening lines, "The filthy glittering doubling of helixes / The crossbred orbits marriage among flesh fluids," and then add the chorus, "You slimy, grimy, dirty little sica / You scum-ridden, soiled, no-good piece-a / Should have had a shower seven times over / Unzip the epidermis, I'm out of my body…" The last line floats away in a ghostly echo.

Sica? I hit Wikipedia first. Maybe it was Latin for "whore" or "thief;" maybe it was a street term. The answer was not so sinister. "I had this car, this Corsica, it became the 'sica," McElroy said. "It was a totally terrible car." The "out of my body" line has to do with getting into a zone. "It can be like writing or partying or hitting on a girl or having a really intense conversation with one of your bro's."

As for the rest of the translation, you're on your own. America will get a chance to decipher Rig 1 when it opens a 17-date tour for Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band starting Nov. 5 in Boston. The locals point enviously to McElroy's Oberst connection as the reason behind any success. McElroy responds this way: "That kid has been my best friend forever. He's a huge influence, regardless of the music thing. He didn't financially help me with the record at all. I asked him to put it out on his label, but it's been my thing. He didn't write my rhymes for me. It stands alone."

The bottom line: Oberst won't be on stage with him when he performs on tour or this Friday at The Slowdown. But McElroy won't be by himself. He'll be joined by Dustin Bushon a.k.a. Trust (and locally a.k.a. Fathr^) on guitar and backing vocals, and Retisonic's Jimmy Kimball a.k.a. Jimmy Utah on bass. Unlike that ancient Sokol gig, McElroy knows just standing there and rapping won't cut it.

"I'm not nervous about it," he said. "I just want the crowd to get into it and have a good vibe on stage. That's the goal."

Tonight at The Slowdown Jr. it's Canadian indie folk combo The Acorn. The band just returned from a UK tour with Akron/Family and are on the first leg of a cross-country US jaunt before they join up with Calexico (who are coming to Slowdown Nov. 23. No idea if The Acorn will still be with them). With Ohbijou & Shaky Hands. $8, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Yet another CD review from intern Brendan Greene-Walsh. OK, Brendan, time to send some more…

Land of Talk, Some Are Lakes (Saddle Creek) -- Land of Talk is a three-piece outfit from Montreal and a recent addition to the Saddle Creek roster. Fronted by singer and guitarist Elizabeth Powell, the trio takes a quirky approach to their music, with the song writing and structures combining into an amalgamation of genres that results in a cohesive final product. Drawing primarily from up-tempo folk and rock, the band uses dance beats and jazz chords to fill out their sound. The driving force is the rhythm section, with Powell's sparse, jangling guitar added at the right moments. It's her voice, however, that makes the album work. I was reminded of Blonde Redhead's Kazu Makino -- the two share a light, unforced style. At times she sounds willing to relinquish tonal control only to rein it back before the notes turn sour. My only complaint is the odd stops and starts on the first two tracks disrupt the flow and make it difficult to dig into this interesting album. Rating: Yes.-- Brendan Greene-Walsh

Tim Sez: Its shimmery, mid-tempo indie rock feels influenced by '70s-era Fleetwood Mac thanks to a well-grounded rhythm section. That said, frontwoman Elizabeth Powell sounds more like Carol van Dyk (Bettie Serveert) than Stevie or Christine. It's pleasant-going until "Give Me Back My Heart Attack" breaks through the monotony, only to slide back into mid-tempo gear with "It's Okay," a song whose bass-drum combo would sound good at your next prom. There is a middle-of-the-road quality to a lot of this, which could cause it to get lost in an ever-growing, ever-homogenized sea of indie music. Rating: Yes.

Tomorrow: An interview with Rig 1's Ian McElroy...

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

My take on The Dinks is that they're a very different band than The Shanks, a more focused, more musical (and much tighter) band that still has the same punk energy but without the violent dross. That's a fancy way of saying that The Shanks were a Molotov cocktail that could explode with a spray of violence at any moment during their shows, and half the fun was waiting for the meltdown. While 3/4's of the Shanks are in the Dinks, there appears to be no threat of flying bottles/knocked-out teeth as the band is too busy trying to make music. That, of course, is a good thing. though we'll all miss the Shanks' nights of chaos (except those innocent bystanders who got caught in the blood spray). So I guess The Dinks are a real band, which puts them in a whole different category. It's no longer about "performance;" it's about songwriting and what level of creativity they can bring to a genre that was mined bone dry 20 years ago. What can The Dinks bring to the table that we haven't already tasted before? That's the challenge. I dug what I heard Friday night at O'Leaver's (and so, apparently, did the 50 or so on hand), but I'm waiting to see where it goes next.

The Dinks were followed by Guitar Hero II band The Last Vegas (Guitar Hero is becoming this generation's MTV as a vehicle for unknown bands to get their music heard by a new -- and huge -- audience), I don't know what was more hilarious, the Last Vegas' '80s hair-band histrionics or the level of disgust heard from some of the folks who were there to see The Dinks. For me, it was like stepping into a time machine that took me back to Fat Jacks circa 1986. This band would have fit right in on their red-carpeted stage -- pure G 'n' R / LA Guns / Aerosmith hair rock, and done quite well (this from someone who saw more than his share of it after years of Tuesday night buck pitchers). If you like that sort of thing, you would have loved these guys -- they had the riffs and the moves, even the right clothing. Of course there was nothing original about any of it, nor (I assume) was there intended to be. In fact, The Last Vegas would probably do just as well if they just played Ratt covers.

Saturday night was the Whipkey Three CD release show at Slowdown Jr. I saw a movie before the set (W), which caused me to miss the opener, It's True, Adam Hawkins' band (which is generating quite a buzz from a handful of local musicians). Whipkey and Co. played a spot-on set that included as much new material as stuff from the new CD to a crowd that appeared to number just over 100.

* * *

Here's another Brendan-Greene Walsh CD review. You'll just have to take his word for it, as I haven't heard it:

IfIHadAHiFi, Fame By Proxy (Latest Flame) -- The fourth full-length from this Milwaukee group and their first release on Latest Flame, the 11-song album is comprised of an all-out barrage of noise, synth and guitar riffs. To say that the songs are jumbled doesn't do justice -- spastic is more accurate. Dissonant melodies are connected to jangling guitars and space-age sound effects to create an awkward sense of a song. Frequent and unwarranted changes in tempo and time signature only add to the overall confusion and lack of continuity. While at some points the band reminded me of the raging sounds created by Shellac, more often than not they sounded like a musical train wreck. Through the mess, only one song stood out above the rest and stayed with me for more than a few minutes, the 10th track, suitably titled "Success! Success! Success!" While I am not willing to offer conclusions about the title having anything to do with the music, the chorus is the closest the group came to a unified and cohesive sound. The vocal melody is coupled with concise song writing and a strong rhythm section to create what could actually be considered a decent song. Rating: No. -- Brendan Greene-Walsh

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

First, Amy Ray last night on Slowdown's big stage. They had the balcony closed; and you know why. Fewer than 100 were in the "alternative" crowd to see one-half of the Indigo Girls. I've got a couple of IG albums from back in the day, an era when there were a lot of new female singer-songwriters taking over the scene -- Tracy Chapman, Edie Brickell, 10,000 Maniacs, Suzanne Vega, The Sundays, Sinead O'Connor, Blake Babies, Throwing Muses, Cowboy Junkies, Mazzy Star, and so on. Where'd they all go? It was IG's folky numbers that I liked, not so much the Melissa Etheridge blues rock stuff. Ray hasn't gone in that direction; her new stuff sounds more like hard rock, not really bluesy at all. I just wanted to hear her play an acoustic and leave the electric in the rack. And it was during the very few acoustic moments that her set shined brightest.

* * *

The Reader's monthly CD reviews are in the current issue. Here's my contribution:

Brimstone Howl, We Came in Peace (Alive) -- Brimstone Howl is part of the Midwest's garage rock retro revival that bows down to the '60s and '70s by way of Detroit and NYC. And as with any genre exercise, too much of a good thing can get pretty dull. Someone should have told that to The Howl when they decided to squeeze 15 tracks onto this disc, especially when so many have an inescapable similitude, which, combined with the flat production (from White Stripes producer Jim Diamond) and tiresome, over-reverbed vocals, makes this a challenge to sit through from beginning to end. Back-to-back, previous album Guts of Steel had a bigger swagger and a wider stance. And the vocals on Guts merely sounded cheap and dirty vs. this endless echo chamber from yesteryear. Still, taken in small doses (like their superior 7-inch singles) Brimstone Howl provides big rewards. Rating: Yes. (Reader rating: 3 stars).

The weekend is upon us. Here's what I have on my radar screen.

Tonight

-- Sokol Underground has a good punk show with The Yuppies, Columbia Vs. Challenger and UUVVWWZ. Starts at 10. No idea on the cover.

-- Meanwhile, The Dinks (three ex members of The Shanks) have a show at O'Leaver's with The Last Vegas and Noah's Ark Was a Spaceship. $5, 9 p.m.

-- Up the street at The Waiting Room, Shiver Shiver opens a show with It's True, The Great Atomic Power and headliner The Pendrakes. $7, 9 p.m.

-- Finally, down at The Barley St, the Big Al Band uncorks some It's War You Die on your ass. No idea on the cover, but the openers start at 9.

Saturday night

-- Down at Slowdown Jr. it's The Whipkey Three CD release show with It's True. $5, 9 p.m.

-- The Barley St. has a five-band bill featuring A Tomato A Day and Thunder Power. $4, 9 p.m.

-- And The Waiting Room is having a "zombie ball" in conjunction with Benson's Zombie Walk. Bands include Social Distortion tribute act Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell and Fremont/Lincoln punk band Officially Terminated. $7, 7 p.m.

Sunday

-- On the Lord's day of rest, Fromanhole tries to burn down O'Leaver's with touring band Prize Country. $5, 9:30.

Now is it ever going to quit raining?

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

This column is a companion to yesterday's Whipkey Three feature (which, if you haven't read yet, you should right now. Go!). We rarely consider the role pets play in the creative process (or in our lives). Now it's Sage's turn...

Column 195: Remembering Coco
What's more inspiring than a dog?

There's a dedication in the liner notes of the new Whipkey Three CD. Among the thank yous to family and friends is this message:

"For Coco, who heard these before anyone."

Coco wasn't a brother or sister, but she was still a member of Matt Whipkey's and Sarah Benck's family. Coco was a Boston Terrier. "She was my dog," Sarah said.

Their relationship began two-and-a-half years ago. Sarah had been living alone in an apartment and needed a friend to keep her company. "After my family's dog died, I felt like I wanted a pet in my life, a dog in my life, a companion," she said. "I tried to rationalize all the reasons not to get a dog, that I wouldn't have enough time for her, but in the end, it worked out."

Sarah found Coco through the Midamerica Boston Terrier Rescue, an organization that helps find homes for the breed after they've been liberated from puppy-mill hellholes. Coco was one such survivor, a breeding dog that outlived her usefulness to the human filth who run such operations. After seven years spent in a cage (no one really knows for sure how old she was), Coco needed a new home.

"I remember seeing her and feeling like 'Wow, that's my dog,'" Sarah said. "Her hair was the same color as mine. She was just my dog."

And just like that, Coco found herself embedded into the rock 'n' roll lifestyle, taking on a new role as Sarah's faithful companion and creative muse. She was a tiny patchwork of auburn and white, with the classic squished-up Boston Terrier face that looked like Ernest Borgnine in Marty, offset with batlike ears and wide, staring eyes. Wherever Sarah went, there was Coco, surveying the landscape from an ankle-high vantage point.

It didn't take long until she worked her way into Sarah's music. No, that baby girl that Sarah sang about on the title track of her last album, Neighbor's Garden, wasn't her daughter. It was Coco.

"I started writing that song one day sitting in my apartment, just me and her," Sarah said. "I didn't know what to write about, and looked over at her and started writing. It's a song about knowing that I wasn't going to have a lot of time with her. seeing how old she was. It's about what I wish her life would be like ideally, or what her life will be like in heaven."

The song's chorus: "I wish you could run through the tall grass / Swim with ease / Stand the tallest / And I'll do what I can to make you happy."

As soon as Matt Whipkey began dating Sarah, Coco became his muse as well, or at least an impartial sounding board. "She was sitting right next to me when I was writing the songs on the new album," Matt said. "She would listen. She played a part in the writing process, as much as a pet can."

Coco would accompany Sarah when Matt played acoustic shows at Soaring Wings Vineyard in Springfield. And when Sarah would join him on stage for a song, Coco would sit between her legs "like a member of the band," Matt said.

Eventually, Coco even followed Sarah and the band downstairs into the basement for practices. Matt said he was concerned that the noise was too loud for a dog. "Most dogs would run out of a room with the sound of a snare, but not Coco," Matt said. "Sarah thought she liked the music." But the fact was, by the beginning of this year, Coco already was stone deaf, no longer even able to hear the tinkling sound of the treat-jar lid. Toward the end, Coco would stand next to Sarah's bass cabinet while she played.

The seizures started coming in May; their frequency and severity increased daily. Finally, on Memorial Day, Coco found herself in a pet ER. The vet diagnosed a brain tumor. The next afternoon Coco went to sleep for good.

"She was always around," Sarah remembers. "Matt put her in the liner notes because she was the first one to hear his songs. She wasn't the kind of dog that would come and sit on your lap, but she was always right there by you, following you from room to room. When she wasn't there anymore, the house just seemed empty. It was kind of scary to come home without hearing the little sounds she makes."

Less than two months later, on the Fourth of July, Matt and Sarah adopted Sage, another Boston Terrier rescued from a puppy mill. At only four years old, Sage already is helping Matt test new material. "She sat right there the other day while I played, and tilted her head a little when the harmonica came in," Matt said.

Will Sage become The Whipkey Three's new mascot? "If she wants to be," Matt said. "She's scared of (drummer) Zip (Zimmerman). She runs away from the sight of him."

Matt said she's still adjusting to her new life. Sage knows that she's got some big paws to fill.

* * *

Here's another review from intern Brendan Greene-Walsh:

Her Space Holiday, Sleepy Tigers (Mush Records) -- Marc Bianchi is the mastermind behind Her Space Holiday, a band that traditionally has been tethered by a short leash to the world of computer composition. Bianchi decided to cut the cord that bound him and attempt to get back to some of the more simple things in music; guitars, banjos, live percussion and even glockenspiel. Sleepy Tigers is a four-song EP that doubles as the lead up single to HSH’s next full length. The music is a vast departure from Bianchi's previous efforts. In place of synth-heavy dance songs, Bianchi took to the guitar to write light-hearted pop folk tunes. The EP is bouncy and jovial by nature, setting your foot a-tapping and bringing a smile to your face. It's pretty difficult for a band to go in a new creative direction and do it well, but Bianchi shows no sign of struggle here. Rating: Yes -- Brendan Greene-Walsh

Tim Sez: Listen as former electro-tech-mechanic Bianchi trades synth-beats for hand claps, tambourine, whistles and acoustic guitars -- as if someone locked him in a room with Tilly and the Wall or Lightspeed Champion or Michel Gondry. It's cute. Almost too cute. Which makes for an ironic counterbalance for lyrics draped in everyday loneliness. As an EP, it works, but anything beyond four songs (in this style) could get mighty tedious. Rating: Yes.

Tonight at Slowdown it's Indigo Girl Amy Ray, out on the road with her band supporting her new album Didn't It Feel Kinder on Daemon Records. Ray takes the tunage into a heavier direction than on her albums with Emily Saliers (the other Indigo Girl), at times pushing it into Melissa Etheridge territory. The best track is an upbeat acoustic number titled "Cold Shoulder" that could be a hit if radio had the cajones to play a song about a gay woman hoping to seduce a straight woman, where Ray sings about hanging with "the deviants and the tranny nation." Opening is Arizona, a band that actually hails from Asheville North Carolina and plays rootsy indie psychedelic rock. $15, 9 p.m.

Also tonight, LA-based indie band The Little Ones (who sound like a lite version of Tokyo Police Club) plays at The Waiting Room with Sleep Said the Monster. $8, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Just posted: An interview with The Whipkey Three. Matt, Sarah and Zip talk about the origin of the band, the new album and the trials and tribulations of balancing a relationship with a music career (read it here). The trio celebrates the release of their self-titled debut LP this Saturday at Slowdown Jr. with It's True. Could this be the album that finally takes Whipkey to the next level? Tomorrow, pt. 2 of the story in the form of this week's column. Bring a Kleenex.

Lazy-i intern Brendan Greene-Walsh finally has come through with some CD reviews, which I'll be sprinkling into the blog over the next few days. Here's the first one:

Brightblack Morning Light, Motion to Rejoin (Matador) -- The best way to describe it is to offer up an unlikely (if not impossible) set of circumstances and ask that you come along on a short journey. Imagine it's the late '70s and we're in Tennessee. We stumble upon an opium den where a house lounge act is performing. This band -- the only band that could ever fit this incredulous place in this dubious time -- is Brightblack Morning Light. The air is dense and motionless, like the majority of the apathetic clientele. The band plays through the haze of smoke, barely noticeable. Their sound is subdued and sparse. A vintage Rhodes piano stands at the center of the music along with ambient drums and horn swells that come and go as they please. Nothing about this album seems forced, and that's a bit deterring. With songs averaging around the six-and-a-half-minute mark, things eventually become monotonous. Rating: No. -- Brendan Greene-Walsh

Tim Sez: Yeah, it does feel like a '70s drug jam played in slow motion submerged under water. The only thing missing is Chan Marshall stoned out of her mind, mumbling the lyrics. Instead, give praise to the super-high gospel singers testifying to what, I don't know, since it all sounds like one long slur. I assume it has something to do with dope. And like any good narcotic, it's guaranteed to put you right to sleep. Now where did I put those black light bulbs? Rating: No.

Speaking of reviews, I went to see Ian Moore last night at The Waiting Room. I knew virtually nothing about him other than having listened to his most recent CD on LaLa yesterday. I come to find out that he's a guitar virtuoso, a legend that built a following in his youth as some sort of blues guitar messiah who once opened shows for the Rolling Stones, Dylan and ZZ Top, among others. I guess that reputation was what drew so many older folks to the show -- the place looked like a Cialis commercial, and I halfway expected Moore to break out a cover of "Viva Viagra." I will say this for these older blues fans -- they get into the music a helluva lot more than the standard slumped-shouldered indie rock slacker who looks like he just woke up before the show and only went because someone promised him he could go back to sleep right afterward. A couple of these blues fans were actually dancing (again, Cialis commercial). After spending years watching young musicians who barely know how to tune their guitars, it was a pleasure to watch Moore tear it up, spurred on by whoops from the crowd. He's a master musician, and his songwriting isn't bad, either. While I enjoyed his take on pop rock (reminiscent of Big Star and Tommy Keene), the songs were eclipsed by the performance, which included a guy on keyboards who also played trumpet at the same time. While I left the show impressed with what I'd just heard, I couldn't tell you what a single song was about, nor did I have any interest in finding out.

Tonight at Slowdown Jr., it's Boston psyche-rock band Apollo Sunshine with Vinyl Haze. $8, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Tonight at The Waiting Room, it's Ian Moore and His Lossy Coils with The Black Squirrels and Mitchell Getman. I'm listening to Moore's 2007 album To Be Loved, released on Justice Records, and I'm liking it. It's upbeat pop rock with lots of sweet harmonies and hook-filled riffs that recalls bands like The Raspberries, upbeat Big Star even The Hollies. $10, 9 p.m.

Also tonight, Lincoln's favorite forgotten son, Matthew Sweet, returns home for a show at The State Theater with The Bridges. Sweet's got a new album out, Sunshine Lies, released on Shout Factory. $20, 7 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

What did we really expect from the David Byrne concert? Well, a chance to hear Talking Heads songs sung by the chief Talking Head. And not just any Talking Heads' songs, the ones that were co-created with Brian Eno -- the darker, odder tunes, the ones that sounded like they were written by aliens, that upon first listen (to Fear of Music or Remain in Light) felt awkward or purposely dissonant and uncomfortable. It was only after listening to those albums a few times that they became ingrained in my psyche, that they made sense.

We got plenty of those songs last Friday night -- it was, after all, a sort of tribute to that music, some might say the most substantial music that Byrne has ever created. Not me, of course. I like non-Eno Heads/Byrne music as well, though not as much of it. I never had a chance to see Talking Heads when they were still kicking around; this would be the closest that I'll probably ever get, and in that light, will have to suffice. And suffice it did.

Byrne and his band strolled out dressed in white -- Byrne himself wearing white slacks and a white short-sleeved polo shirt, launching into the best song off his new solo-with-eno album, "Strange Overtones," a track that harkens back to the best funk-beat rock from his old days. It wasn't until the next song, "I Zimbra," that the crowd stood up and began a style of ritualistic groove that's only danced by middle-aged white people who are a little too uptight to really enjoy themselves -- it was like watching an older couple that's not used to (or approving of) public displays of affection awkwardly make out. In all honesty, it's not natural (or possible) to create a dance-party vibe in the sterile confines of The Holland Center, a place as inviting as a high school assembly hall -- where any spontaneous act would be met by a stern teacher bearing a ruler and plenty of cold chastisement.

The set list also didn’t help loosen the oldsters up. Byrne interlaced hot TH dance songs like "Houses in Motion" and "Crosseyed and Painless" with the more mundane songs off the new album, songs that seemed mopey and formulaic and that immediately eased people back into their seats, where they waited, poised to leap for the next afro-beat-infused hit from yesteryear.

Regardless of the restraints, the show was still immensely entertaining in a theatrical sort of way, thanks to the three modern, interpretive dancers that spiced up half the songs. My favorite parts of TH concert films is watching Byrne's own pseudo-improvised dance routines -- who can forget such classic Byrne dance moves as "hand-chopping-arm" or "slap-myself-in-the-forehead"? The three dancers -- two woman and a guy, also dressed in white -- built on Byrne's quirky choreography, with Byrne joining in when he wasn't shredding a guitar. It was mesmerizing and made the concert feel like something you'd see on a Broadway stage.

Byrne is not exactly a master of stage patter. He mentioned that he rode his bike over the new pedestrian bridge and found himself impressed to be in Iowa. He mentioned that there was a change coming to the political landscape, which was met with big applause. But that was about it. He clearly was lost in having a good time on stage, and with the audience, who by the end of the set, was standing in a mob crowd that took up the first few rows of the auditorium. Whether it was the nearly sold-out crowd or the fact that the band was performing after having a day off, they sprang a few surprises, including a stab at playing "Air" off Fear of Music -- a song that Byrne said this band had never tried in front of an audience before. And during the 7-song encore (according to Wiki, he only did a 3-song encore on the tour's opening night) Byrne played non-Eno Talking Heads hit "Burning Down the House," and then capped off the nearly 2-hour show with the title track from his new album. A very entertaining night.

* * *

About 150 appreciative music fans, drunks and computer geeks showed up at The Waiting Room Saturday night for the SLAM Omaha benefit show. It was sort of like being at a class reunion of Omaha's proud non-Saddle Creek, non-indie music crowd. The highlight was a reunion of The Movies -- an Omaha four-piece rock 'n' roll band fronted by Whipkey Three frontman Matt Whipkey and featuring Mike Friedman on guitar, Bob Carrig on bass and Doug Kabourek on drums. It felt like 2001 all over again, with the band playing spot-on renditions of all their old favorites as if they never broke up. I am only to believe that this was a "one time only" deal. Based on the crowd reaction, The Movies have been sorely missed. Friedman said afterward that another reunion wasn't out of the question, but it probably wouldn't happen for another six years. Buy your tickets now.

The show was the first chance for me to experience the shock-and-awe power of Bloodcow, arguably Council Bluffs' best band. Only one word can describe the sheer power of their metal madness: Majestic. They bring everything you want and expect from a punk-metal band -- the glistening harmonizing mercury-fast guitar riffs, the Hand of Doom rhythm section, the crazy metal frontman who, well, didn't look metal at all with short hair and slender build (I thought all metal guys were mop-headed (or mullet-headed) fat boys). Legends have been told about previous Bloodcow shows -- about the mayhem and violence -- which leads me to believe the Bloodcow boys were purposely restrained on the Waiting Room stage last night. What hell could they have wrought at, say, O'Leaver's or Sokol Underground? That remains to be seen.

* * *

Yesterday, the illustrious Val at Slowdown announced a not-so-secret "secret show" being held at her club tonight at 10 p.m. -- The Notwist, a German indie-electronic band, whose 1998 album Shrink, was one of my favorites from that year (here's my review of the disc). I've lost track of Notwist since then. Maybe it's time to catch up -- especially at this price: FREE. Get down to the club early and catch some Jim Esch, who is hosting a benefit rally that starts at 6 p.m. Your $10 "donation" goes straight to his campaign.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Tonight is one of the busiest music nights of the year, but before we get to that, a brief recap of last night's show at O'Leaver's. I tapped out four notes on my iPhone during Dim Light's set: "whiskey swagger," "swing/waltz," "Mark Lanegan (Gutter Twins)," "peeling black paint on metal pipes." "Whiskey swagger" was how someone sitting next to me at the bar (Brady) described Dim Light's dirty, bluesy, just-rolled-out-of-bed-with-a-hangover rock. It's tired and anxious but ultimately carefree (or care less). Their brutal sound has a natural swing, which swings even farther when married to a waltz-time rhythm (as it was on a few numbers). Frontman Cooper Moon's stature and tone reminded me of Mark Lanegan singing dead-end rock songs that conjure visions of broken factories and industrial blight. With Boz Hicks on drums (Domestica) and Rhodes on bass, it all works with a gut-stabbing efficiency. I saw these guys at The Waiting Room in January and thought they sounded like sludge-core (but the headache I had that night might have had something to do with that). Last night, they were much more refined, and even (dare I say it) downright catchy. This is a band to watch out for.

Voodoo Organist, who has played at O'Leaver's -- what, 100 times? -- was exactly what I expected: A guy playing an organ (and Theremin) handling vocals backed by a guy on drums. It was loung-y, kitschy, horror-billy rock. Good for what it was. Not something I'd seek out a second time, but judging by the crowd reaction, I'd say most of the 20 or so on hand would (and have).

* * *

There are a lot of shows going on tonight, most of them simultaneously. The early show is David Byrne at The Holland. Judging by the set list, this is the closest you're going to get to hearing a Talking Heads concert until their next reunion (which may never happen). It is not sold out, and at that price point ($48-$78) probably won't be. Starts at 8 sharp with no opening act, so get there on time.

The late shows are many. Two of them I mentioned yesterday -- Ladyfinger at Slowdown with Mountain High and Techlepathy ($7, 9 p.m.), and Little Brazil at The Waiting Room with Crooked Fingers and Uglysuit ($10, 9 p.m.). You'll find me downtown, as I just saw LB a month or so ago.

Also tonight, Tomato a Day is slated to play at The Saddle Creek Bar & Grill with Boy and It's True. 9 p.m., no idea on the price.

At The Barley Street, Darren Keen plays along with Talkin' Mountain, Physics of Meaning and Western Electric. $4, 9 p.m.

And finally, at PS Collective, Midwest Dilemma kicks off its fall tour that will take them to New York City and back, finishing up Nov. 2 in Des Moines. No idea who or how many will be tagging along in the van(s). Opening is Anniversaire, Tim Wildsmith and Kyle Harvey. $5, 10 p.m.

Saturday is dominated by the SLAM Omaha benefit show at The Waiting Room featuring the reunion of The Movies, as well as Sarah Benck & The Robbers, Bloodcow, Filter Kings, Icares, Ground Tyrants, Two Drag Club, Kill Bosby and Brad Hoshaw, all for a $10 donation. Show starts at 6:30.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Here are a couple newsy bits received from my e-mail…

Ethan Jones wrote to say that Ladyfinger's show at Slowdown tomorrow night will feature mostly new songs from their new album, which is slated for release in February on Saddle Creek Records. "We recorded in July/August with Matt Bayles (the guy that recorded Heavy Hands) at his studio in Seattle," Jones said. Bayles, as most of you know, also produced albums by Mastodon, Isis, Russian Circles and Minus the Bear, among others. Jones said Friday's show is Ladyfinger's "first real Omaha show since April." Also on the bill is Philly band Mountain High and Techlepathy.

* * *

Little Brazil guitarist Greg Edds informed the media yesterday that his band currently is bunkered down at ARC Studios with engineer/producer AJ Mogis. "Our third full-length record, tentatively titled, Son, is due to be released in early 2009," Edds said. "We're also proud to announce that our new album will be released on Anodyne Records (Kansas City, MO). Anodyne is the home to many acts that we admire, including The Architects, Roman Numerals, The Valley Arena, Meat Puppets and Shiner."

I've been hearing about Anodyne for what seems like forever. Sounds like the band finally inked the contract a few weeks ago. In another departure for Little Brazil, early word is that Son will be a concept album. Three tracks from the record already are online at daytrotter.com (complete with comments/explanations about the lyrics). Or you can hear them performed live tomorrow night at The Waiting Room when Little Brazil opens for Crooked Fingers and The Ugly Suit. The show kicks off a two-week tour that will take Little Brazil to Ohio, Illinois and Minnesota before heading back home for a gig at Slowdown on Halloween.

Too bad these two shows (Ladyfinger and Little Brazil) will be competing with each other on the same night, but these things happen…

* * *

Tonight, Voodoo Organist , the favorite band of my slacker Lazy-i intern Brendan Greene-Walsh, plays at O'Leaver's with Dim Light. $5, 9:30 p.m. Where are all those CD reviews, Brendan?

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

There appears to be plenty of seats available for David Byrne Friday night, ranging from $48 to $78. Score your tix here. Should be a blast. I'm also told that Byrne has Thursday off, so keep your eyes peeled for him and his entourage around town...

Column 194: Thinking Outside the Head
Byrne-ing Down the Holland

David Byrne is a genius. Or at least he seems like one to me.

I remember reading a cover story about him 20 years ago -- I can't remember if it was in Time or Newsweek -- but the blurb said it all: "Rock's Renaissance Man." On the cover were multiple headshots of Byrne brought together as an art collage in a Warholian sort of way -- the message: Byrne was the new Andy Warhol. The story talked about his background as a member of Talking Heads and his performance art projects. But by the late 1980s, he'd already grown well past his Heads identity, having launched his own world-beat record label -- Luaka Bop (where I was first introduced to Brazilian and Cuban dance music). Byrne was becoming known as much for his creative vision as his cool, cooing vocals.

Today, Google "David Byrne" and you'll find as many websites describing his art as his latest album. When I mentioned to a couple friends that I was thinking of writing a column about him, they quickly sent me their favorite Byrnian links. One went to a page at davidbyrne.com that described his bike rack project for the New York Department of Transportation and PaceWildenstein art gallery. Fabricated from metal, the nine bike racks installed throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn resembled everyday icons -- a mudflap girl, a dollar sign, a woman's high-heel shoe, a dog. The art looked so cool in the photos that I couldn't imagine chaining my Bianchi to one, and then I wondered if this functional art project would encourage cyclers to begin chaining bikes to other art never intended to be used as anchors to stave off thieves.

Then there was "Playing the Building," an installation at Färgfabriken, Stockholm, in 2005 where Byrne taught an old factory how to sing. He did it by figuring out ways to make sounds using the building's structural elements. "Everyone is familiar with the fact that if you rap on a metal column, for example, you will hear a ping or a clang, but I wondered if the pipes could be turned into giant flutes, and if a machine could make some of the girders vibrate and produce tones," Byrne says on his website. "After thinking about how girders vibrate when a truck or a train goes over a metal bridge, it seemed just a matter of working out the mechanics of playing a building."

Hook it all up to an old church organ and you've created a building-sized musical instrument suited for the largest compositions. Before this tour began, Byrne applied the same concept to the Battery Maritime Building in Lower Manhattan. Even Andy never thought of anything like that.

And there's more, like how he made dull business software PowerPoint into an art medium, or his series of self-portrait dolls, one of which wound up on the cover of 1997 album Feelings. Had I been given a chance to interview Byrne, I would have asked how he manages to do everything he does. I'm sure he would have given the same answer that Omaha artist/poet/philosopher Bill Farmer gave when interviewed shortly before his death: The question wasn't when he had time to do art, but how he could possibly not do art. Every moment of his life was dedicated to some form of creative expression, because that was who he was. In that way, Byrne reminds me of Bill.

Like all good artists, Byrne invents new ways of seeing and using everyday objects. And he does it with a natural ease, without an ounce of pretension or angst -- unless you're talking about psycho killers or the sound of gunfire in the distance.

Oh that's right, Byrne's also a songwriter and musician. Sure, folks may know about his art, but the reason they're headed to the Holland Performing Arts Center Friday night has more to do with giant suits, celebratory dancing and music.

Billed as a collaboration between David Byrne and Brian Eno, his latest album Everything that Happens Will Happen Today isn't a huge departure from Byrne's other solo outings. If you like those, you'll probably like this, too. Byrne calls it "folk-electronic-gospel," but doesn't that describe just about everything he's done with Eno over the years?

For me, the album's high points don't happen until the second half. Trotting out on a disco riff, "Strange Overtones" is the peak -- my favorite Byrne song since the salsa-flavored, horn-heaven track "Make Believe Mambo" from 1989's Rei Momo. There's nothing similar about the two songs really, except both own remarkable melodies and are irresistible dance-floor fodder. Too bad there's no room to dance in the Holland, because trippy groove-scape "Poor Boy" is laser targeted at getting your hind-side shaking. And it won't be the only song that'll make you want to move, judging by the set list from the first night of the tour, which included Heads' classics "I Zimbra" "Houses in Motion" "Once in a Lifetime" and "Crosseyed and Painless," all taken from albums produced by Eno (the entire evening is dedicated exclusively to Byrne/Eno collaborations, though Eno won't be there).

Expect a spectacle, and get there early -- there's no opening act. Who needs one when you've got a 7-member back-up band, a small dance troupe and all the visual magic we've come to expect from an artist who once taught a building to sing. Friday night he's going to teach a building to dance.

Tonight, everyone's favorite indie rapper, Murs, is playing at The Waiting Room with Kidz in the Hall and Isaiah. $12, 9 p.m. At Slowdown it's Mountain Goats and Kaki King. Note that the show time on the Slowdown site is 8 p.m. -- that's to facilitate the debate-watching party. Kaki King won't go on until afterward (9:30) $15.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

A couple people have pointed out that the bass player in Techlepathy whose name I didn't know (see yesterday's blog entry) was none other than John Kestner, a former member of Sound of Rails and Fullblown along with drummer Eric Ernst (though Kestner played guitar in those bands). In fact, it was Mike Tulis, also a former member of Fullblown, who told me Saturday night who Ernst was. I should have asked about Kestner. And that's more information than you ever wanted to know. Go see Techlepathy Friday.

Tonight at The Slowdown it's the Omaha debut of Saddle Creek Record's most recent signing, Land of Talk. Their new album, Some Are Lakes, is a shimmery, mid-tempo indie rock collection that feels influenced by '70s-era Fleetwood Mac thanks to its rock-solid well-grounded rhythm section. That said, frontwoman Elizabeth Powell sounds more like one of the Azure Ray women or Carol van Dyk (Bettie Serveert) than Stevie or Christine. It's pleasant-going until "Give Me Back My Heart Attack" breaks through the monotony, only to shift back into mid-tempo gear with "It's Okay," a song whose bass-drum combination makes it the perfect prom dance ballad (think Foreigner or Journey, I'm not entirely kidding). There is a distinctively middle-of-the-road quality to Land of Talk. I'm told they caught the attention of Creek-folk after making a big splash at SXSW two years ago. As one person who was there told me, "You couldn't go anywhere in Austin without hearing something about Land of Talk." Will the hype continue? Well, Pitchfork gave Some Are Lakes a 6.9 (just a tenth of a point away from breaking through that 7.0 glass ceiling that holds back most Creek artists). I like the album, though I don't think Land of Talk will get to the same level as Creek's big swingers (Tokyo Police Club, on the other hand, probably will).

Land of Talk is opening tonight for Canadian supergroup Broken Social Scene, who played a secret show here almost a year ago. Wonder who will be playing with Drew and Canning in this version. Tickets are still available for $20. Show starts at 9.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Lots of aimless driving Saturday night; lots of lost opportunities. After seeing Elegy at The Dundee, I high-tailed it over to The Waiting Room hoping to catch Coffin Killers. No luck. For whatever reason, they were the first band up, and had left the stage by the time I arrived. I didn’t bother to go in. Instead, I drove down to The Saddle Creek Bar. Omaha's punk authority and information hub (Mean Dean) had let me know via e-mail the day before that The Dinks canceled -- something to do with their drummer being unavailable. Still, I wanted to see what was going on; if anyone even showed up. Damn few -- maybe 18 -- were there. I hung out in front while The Lepers and their soundman tried to figure things out. Having just caught their set last week, I drove to O'Leaver's thinking I might get lucky and catch Techlepathy. And for once my timing was right.

Techlepathy is a trio that includes über-guitarist Lincoln Dickison and drummer Eric Ernst. I don't know the bass player's name, but he was good, too. Their style is post-punk noise rock in the same vein as Fromanhole and The Stay Awake. Dickison doesn't so much play guitar as do weird things that look like he's giving it a massage -- strange upper fretboard fingertip hocus-pocus. Vocalwise, Lincoln screams more than sings -- quite a contrast to his solo acoustic balladry, where he croons like an angel. Here he's chasing out demons or other frustrations over intricate time changes, key changes, mood changes. Like all good bands that play this style of music, after the initial install it becomes strangely hypnotic. Techlepathy's trick, however, is a willingness to blend the unexpected tonal melody amidst the din, coming in and out at the most fractious moments. The contrast will make you say out loud, "Wow, that's pretty." It doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, it feels like a headache going away. That said, the overall Techlepathy experience is brutal and bruising. Find out for yourself Friday night when they open for Ladyfinger at Slowdown.

So Deerhoof's tonight on The Slowdown main stage, and I'm tempted to go even though it means a painful Tuesday morning, and it looks like it's going to rain all night (which means no hanging out on the patio between sets). Opening is Experimental Dental School & Au (They should have had UUVVWWZ open) and tickets are a mere $10. Maybe I'll see you there? Also tonight at O'Leaver's it's The Lepers with Minneapolis AmRep band Heroine Sheiks. $5, 9:30 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

This one has been flying under the radar, probably because it's not a 1% show, but Tegan and Sara are playing tonight at Sokol Auditorium. Just more proof of how out-of-touch I am. I wasn't even aware they had a new album out (Do they?). I also didn't realize that their fanbase had grown enough to warrant booking this show upstairs at Sokol -- a 1,400-capacity room -- and to demand a $25 ticket. Ah, I still remember the last time I tried to interview these fine young ladies, and the fallout that ensued. I have a feeling they won't be dedicating another set to me, nor that they even remember who I am. Opening is City and Color and Girl in a Coma. $25, 7 p.m.

Also tonight at The Waiting Room, McCarthy Trenching celebrates the release of their new CD, Calamity Drenching released on Team Love Records. Joining them are Neva Dinova and Ted Stevens (of Mayday and Cursive). Only $7. 9 p.m. This one will be a hoot.

Tomorrow night Ben Kweller plays at Slowdown with Whitley. I know a lot of people headed to this show. I've never been a Kweller fan, however. $15 today, $17 tomorrow, 9 p.m.

As mentioned in this week's columns, The Dinks are playing Saturday night at The Saddle Creek Bar with the incomparable Perry H. Matthews and The Lepers. 9 p.m., $5.

Meanwhile, over at The Waiting Room Saturday Night , the Coffin Killers open for School of Arms, Paria and The Matador. Coffin Killers, for those who may not know, is the punk project by Filter Kings' frontman Lee Meyerpeter. Leave your cowboy hat at home. $7, 9 p.m.

Also Saturday, Dereck Higgins Band plays a set at The Goofy Foot with Agronomo and Paper Owls. $3, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Missing from the comments below is a review of Box Elders, who were playing before the Shanks at O'Leaver's. I didn't get there early enough to hear their entire set; I was outside in the O'Leaver's "beer garden" when they were on stage and didn't even recognize them -- they sounded like a different band, tighter, more put together then the raucous garage band from a few months ago. I guess touring has had its impact on these guys, or maybe it's just Jeremiah's new haircut.

Column 193: Out of Control
Punk in the 21st Century

Is it time for another emergence of punk rock?

After all, punk has been dead since the '80s, right? I mean, think about why punk rock existed in the first place. It was a rebellion against the mainstream. It was social economics and booze. Which makes these solemn, teetering-on-the-edge of financial disaster End Days perfect for another fist-rising experiment in anger therapy. There is no better time than today for punk rock to bleed through the culture and take as many drunk, drugged and penniless prisoners as possible. But it can't sound like the old stuff. It can't feel like nostalgia or tribute or costume-y deification of days gone by, because no one will believe it. The problem with performing punk is that if done without a sense of honest hostility, it becomes novelty; it turns away from angst and becomes fashion, an entirely different type of desperation than what The Dead Kennedys and Black Flag and originators like The Ramones and The Sex Pistols had in mind.

I like punk as grand anarchistic theater, as an outlet for those who have nothing to lose. Which is why I liked the Shanks so much. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

This weekend I saw a few flavors of the current state of punk in our fair city. Friday night featured two bands at Saddle Creek Bar -- The Upsets and Officially Terminated. Fronted by the amazing Jade Rocker, who embodies the hubris of early-day Joan Jett and latter-day Wendy O Williams, The Upsets blow-torched a set of heavy stuff that wasn't so much punk as guttural garage rock, capping their set with a Black Flag cover.

Between sets, folks stood outside and talked about days gone by, including Omaha hall shows of the '80s and '90s that could draw a hundred or so angry, idealistic kids. No chance of that these days, right? I even wondered out loud why no one moshed anymore.

"Because it's kind of gay," said one guy wearing a backwards baseball cap. Viewed from the sidelines, there is something sort of gay about a group of young guys, half of them shirtless, purposely slamming into each other, knocking each other down, and pulling themselves back up with sweaty grips to push-shove-rub against each other some more. Rough love. A shared tribal experience that bordered on the homoerotic, even though there was nothing sexual about it. At least there never seemed to be at the very few '90s punk shows that I attended. I never got into the pit. I was way too old for that sort of thing, and I could never get to that level of exuberance or drunkenness to let myself become part of the fray.

Moshing today -- 20 or 25 years after its invention -- seems cliché and derivative. Today's youth appears way too cultured and cool for that sort of thing, and I guess too cool for punk in general.

But just as I thought that, a small mosh pit -- maybe 10 people -- formed in front of where Officially Terminated was exploding. It was slow-motion mosh, a kinder, gentler version that looked like a friendly shoving match by fans who couldn't help themselves, driven by the band's ear-bleeding ferocity.

Featuring guitarist Sam Morris -- a vision in teased blond hair and make-up a la Poison -- and tiny frenetic frontman Eric Hansen, who looked like he weighed 75 pounds soaking wet, Officially Terminated uncorked a set that bordered on hardcore, with songs like "Martini Time" and a twisted cover of Dr. Hook's "The Cover of the Rolling Stone." It was fun. Too fun to be punk, though a million miles removed from pop-punk garbage like Blink 182.

To find what I was looking for, I had to go to O'Leaver's Saturday night for the last waltz of Omaha's The Shanks, one of the most lewd, crude, out-of-control bands in recent memory. When The Shanks were on stage, you instinctively kept your head on a swivel alert for flying bottles or fists, never quite certain if what you were watching was rock 'n' roll or performance art (or both). The Shanks were guttural. They were angry -- with each other, with themselves, with the crowd. Or so it seemed. Maybe it was only an act. We'll never know. But one thing's for certain, they did an admirable job trying to hoist the long tradition of punk rock on their t-shirt-clad shoulders.

And they did not disappoint Saturday night. The band erupted in a drunken visceral assault, complete with insults for everyone in the room. Frontman Smutt Rodd Todd looked like a pit-bull, bracing against a choker chain only inches from your face, while drummer Jeff Damage teetered on the verge of attacking either the crowd or fellow band members. By the end of the set, Jeff was balancing on one of O'Leaver's cheap tables, shirt off, covered in sweat, eventually falling into the drum kit. It was ugly and beautiful, an expression of hopelessness by four guys who could give a shit what you thought. I don't know if it was punk or not, but it felt right. And now The Shanks are gone forever. Or at least until this weekend, when three of the four members re-emerge at The Saddle Creek Bar as The Dinks.

Maybe it's too early for punk's return. Sure, we're in the midst of economic crisis, but other than the media telling us about it, have we really felt its effects? Not yet, not here. And who knows if we ever will, especially with a change of administration just around the corner. If punk was truly destined to re-emerge in an angry new form, it would have happened at the end of the Bush era, but even then, rock was too fat and happy to find anything worth complaining about.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, personal fave UUVVWWZ is opening for Brooklyn's A Place to Bury Strangers (They market themselves as "the loudest band in New York." Really?) and Sian Alice Group. $10, 9 p.m. Meanwhile, down at Slowdown, it's Philly electronic dance band Lotus (sort of Rapture meets LCD minus the cowbell) and Somasphere. $15, 9 p.m.

Also tonight, according to their Myspace page (so this hasn't been confirmed with the venue), Chinese Stars (ex Arab On Radar, ex-Six Finger Satellite) plays at The Brothers with Awesome Brothers. Thanks to Kevin in Lincoln for the head's up.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

The music was turned off when we arrived at The Waiting Room last night at 9:20 to allow for the Obama/McCain debate. Surprisingly, many were glued to the TV sets, as if watching a boxing match… or a trial. The droll spectacle couldn't put a damper on what was ahead, though. The stage remained dark after the final handshake (or lack of one), and from my vantage point sitting at the bar, as the clock struck 10, I began to wonder what was going on. Then from nowhere came a shrill wave of feedback, and I realized that, of course, Monotonix was set up on the floor. I vaguely remembered hearing about the last time these long-haired Israelis came through town, how their equipment had a way of wandering throughout the club. We were in for the same thing as the band began ripping through its rowdy, punkish garage rock, barked with an accent from in front of the stage, surrounded by 150 grinning fans. You couldn't see anything from the floor unless you were in the 6'5" range. I wound up watching from the stage. Frontman Ami Shalev was carried above the fray in a large plastic trashcan, I'm not sure by whom, as the band was having a riot of its own. Ami kept moving the kick drum and the rest of the kit further and further away from the stage, eventually into the main bar area, then the entrance, then finally outside on the sidewalk in front of TWR, frantically waving the crowd to follow him. And they eagerly did -- how often these days do they get a chance to watch a live band and smoke at the same time? Outside, drummer Ran Shimoni banged on a snare while Ami climbed a traffic signal pole. Hanging from a piece of the girding he told the crowd to count down from 10 and then count up to four, upon which time he launched into the crowd to surf back to the sidewalk. Never a dull moment.

I'm not sure you can say the same thing about Silver Jews. David Berman and wife Cassie were joined by four other band members including drummer Bob Nastanovich (of Pavement fame). Hanging from Berman's microphone was a unit of blood that swung to and fro -- it was creepy, and disappeared halfway through the set (vampire?). Though this reference will be lost on almost every reader of this blog, Berman looked just like my old communications professor from UNO, Hugh Cowden - he had the same glasses, the same beard, the same shaped face, and probably the same wardrobe -- a thrift-store western-cut polyester suit jacket. It was Hugh only 30 years younger, holding a mic.

I've been enjoying the Jews' latest album, which is dotted with touches of western swing. Well, there was no C&W influence heard during last night's set. The band sounded like well-played though run-of-the-mill indie (Pavement in their final years). Even Berman's voice sounded different, not so much like Johnny Cash as Kris Kristofferson. A couple people complained about the monotonous, medium-tempo pace of every song as well as Berman's flat vocal delivery. It didn't bother me at all, and there were times where it provided a necessary contrast to the more ethereal portions of the set. Though they're out supporting Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea, they only played maybe three songs from it. No "Party Barge." No "San Francisco BC." I assume the rest of the set was older material, which I will be downloading from Lala later this evening. Those kooky Monotonix guys joined the band for the last of the three-song encore -- Ami sitting on his drummer's shoulders. Silver Jews were great, but Monotonix will be the band most people are talking about the day after.

Looks like you'll have to wait until tomorrow for that weekend-review punk column. I'll have it online in the morning.

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's STNNNG (minus the gloves) with Omaha's current "It Band" Perry H. Matthews, Mother Pile and Child Bite. All four for a mere $7.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

The live review for this past weekend's shows (Upsets, Officially Terminated, Shanks) will appear tomorrow as this week's column (which means they'll also appear in this week's issue of The Reader). Look for that.

But tonight, get your ass to The Waiting Room for The Silver Jews. I can say without restraint that their new record, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea, is one of the best albums of the year. For those of you who missed it, here's my Aug. 20 review:

Silver Jews, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea (Drag City) -- The album can be summed up in one perfect song: "San Francisco B.C.," where drawling frontman David Berman croons a story of a break-up with a "local martyr in the vegan press," a crime story that finds our hero "in the possession of burglary tools" only to confront the bad-haired murderer who orphaned his true love. Along the way there's plenty of "fist cuisine" and "insignificant shit" and other tossed-out genius that makes this one song better than Tarantino's last three films. Musically, it's laid-back, rolling, countrified slacker rock, with Berman sounding like the second coming of Johnny Cash, and wife, Cassie, providing the June Carter harmonies. Rating: 4.5 stars.

Silver Jews rarely tour, rarely play live. The couple are notoriously private and in years past rarely did interviews (Here's Chris Aponik's e-mail interview in the current issue of The Reader). It's very likely that you will never get another chance to see this band in Omaha. A very good chance. Don't miss it. $14, 9 p.m. Get there on time to catch the return (since April 2007) of Israeli garage band Monotonix representin' Tel Aviv.

Tonight is day one of a week filled with amazing shows at The Waiting Room. The STNNNG plays tomorrow night, UUVVWWZ plays Thursday opening for A Place to Bury Strangers, McCarthy Trenching has its CD release show Friday with Neva Dinova and Ted Stevens, Coffin Killers open for School of Arms Saturday, then the place gets burned down Sunday night by Bloodcow and stoner rock kingpins High on Fire. Get the details at The Waiting Room website, and thank Marc and Jim the next time you see them, which better be tonight.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

The band of choice for opening CD release shows has a CD release show of its own tonight at The Waiting Room. The Black Squirrels is self releasing its 12-song sophomore effort, Paying for Your Pleasure, recorded by fellow squirrel Tim Cich at Bassline Studio. Considering all the bands they've opened for, I expect there to be a huge crowd for this one. Opening is The Great Atomic Power (with the great Mike Friedman, Anderson, Dunwoody) and Brad Hoshaw and the Seven Deadlies. 9 p.m., $7.

Also tonight, Seattle instrumental outfit Joy Wants Eternity has moved its show from O'Leaver's to The Saddle Creek Bar. Also on the bill are local punk faves The Upsets and Officially Terminated. No word on the cover. Starts at 9.

Speaking of punk, tomorrow night is the long-awaited final show ever for The Shanks, who will go down in the history of Omaha music as one of the most lewd, crude, out-of-control bands the scene has ever known. When The Shanks were on stage, there was never a dull moment. You instinctively kept your head on a swivel watching for flying bottles or fists, never quite certain if what you were watching was rock and roll or performance art (or both). The Shanks were guttural. They were angry -- with each other, with themselves, with the crowd. Or so it seemed. Maybe it was only an act. We'll never know. But one thing's for certain, they did an admirable job trying to hoist the long tradition of punk rock on their t-shirt-clad shoulders. They shall be missed.

As part of their farewell, the band is cleaning house. According to Shanks' Todd:

"All of the remaining 45s will be given away for free. Also, a 7-song CDEP of unreleased songs will be available for free. Only 50 made, any left over from the show will be available at the Antiquarium. Opening the show will be The Intelligence from In The Red Records. They're from the West Coast and use to be the A-Frames.

Box Elders play second, just returning from Gonerfest in Memphis.

The Shanks play last. May play old stuff, maybe unheard of stuff, maybe all covers from Sesame Street. No one knows 'cause we don't either. We're still going thru all our recordings and may release one more 7" and with everything else, it's going up online at LastFm and Soundclick for those who IPod and who don't have turntables."

$5, 9:30 p.m. Get there early if you want in because this will be a madhouse.

Also Saturday, Talkin' Mountain, Honeybee and Tim Perkins are playing an afternoon gig (4 p.m.) at Urban Outfitters. It's free.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Speed! Nebraska Records launched a new, improved website this week that not only let's you find out about some of the coolest bands in the area and hear some samples, but also buy S!N product online, thanks to their exciting new shopping feature. Man, this Interweb technology is amazing! Check it out.

* * *

Did you notice that Slowdown is closed next Monday through Wednesday? Jason at Saddle Creek tells me that they're installing new flooring (It's about time they replaced that old shit! What's it been, a year?). Slowdown will reopen next Thursday, just in time for electro-dance band Lotus and Somasphere.

* * *

Tonight at The Barley St. Tavern, it's the UNO Mavradio fundraiser. Your $3 cover will go toward station upkeep and the purchase of a new soundboard. No, you still can't hear Mavradio in your car; only on the internets (launched at mavradio.org). But who knows, some day… The show line-up is Benny Jones, Spiders for Love, Platte River Rain, and Ragged Company. Starts at 8.

Also tonight, Nashville Pussy returns to The Waiting Room with Grady. $12, 9 p.m. And down at Slowdown Jr. (on those ugly old floors) it's Sing It Loud, You Me and Everyone We Know, Take Cover and Get Down. $10, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

This week's column is some new stuff combined with rehash from last week's blog entries. Pick and choose, etc. The big news is at the top …

Column 192: Faciinatiing Opportunity
The Show Is the Rainbow added to Faint tour.

The last time we checked in with Darren Keen he was discussing the 5-year anniversary of his project, The Show Is the Rainbow, while dining on CiCi's over his lunch break at Homer's.

Despite such low-rent eating habits, Keen has carved out an impressive career in music, thanks to a solid discography and a willingness to live for weeks at a time on the road playing his unique brand of trippy, experimental indie rock as only he can -- on the floor and in your face.

His persistence is paying off in what may be the biggest break of his career. The Show Is the Rainbow has been asked to be the opener for The Faint, who are on the road supporting Faciinatiion, their new self-released album currently sitting at No. 7 on the CMJ radio top-200. Keen's leg of the tour begins Oct. 19 at The Blue Note in Columbia, Missouri, and takes him to Nashville, Athens, New Orleans, Memphis, Oklahoma City, Boulder and Albuquerque, before ending Nov. 1 in Tempe, Arizona. It's the kind of tour every Omaha band dreams about -- playing in sold-out, medium-sized venues filled with The Faint's insanely rabid fans. Keen said his booking agent, Panache Rock out of California, lined up the tour with The Faint's booking agent (presumably Brian Cohen of William Morris Agency).

The timing couldn't have been any better. Keen just finished recording his new album, Wet Fist, at his storage-room studio inside The Faint's Enamel Studio. Mixed by The Faint's Joel Petersen, the full-length will be released on Retard Disco Records. "They are from L.A., home to really good like-minded weirdo shit," Keen said of his new label. The vinyl version of the album will be released on S.A.F. Records, who released Keen's last album, Gymnasia. To help get momentum rolling for the February release, Retard Disco is pressing a sampler of new material to be given away at shows.

Keen said money made from the tour will help offset debt he's accumulated from booking flights for his European tour that begins the day after he gets back from The Faint tour. The Europe shows will feature These Arms Are Snakes, Russian Circles and Bad Dudes, "plus my own headlining shows in Norway, where I now am a total pimp," he said, adding that he snagged the same Scandinavian booking agent as Metallica and KISS after playing a festival there.

Could this upcoming Faint tour be Keen's ticket out of CiCi's buffet line? "I don't know what it'll mean for my career, but it will be really fun," he said.

* * *

Looks like Lincoln Calling had its most successful year ever. The five-day event held in Lincoln the weekend before last featured arguably the best line-up at any local festival. Lincoln Calling organizer Jeremy Buckley said the numbers were impressive.

"We had attendance of close to 2,300 overall, with 10 shows having attendance of more than 100," he said. "Band payout was in the neighborhood of $8,500, and sound guys made $1,300 last weekend. I wish I could do the math and see what kind of money the crowds generated for downtown Lincoln, because if everyone spent $20 on top of the cost of their ticket on food and beer and such, that's 40K. Big numbers."

Indeed. Buckley, who has been doing Lincoln Calling since 2005, said he intended to "slow down" after this year's festival, "but it was the first year that I genuinely felt that a lot of non-regulars supported shows at all of the venues involved," he said. "It was a very community-oriented event, and I think rather than tone it down next year I'll just figure out how to involve a group of people (to be) in charge of different aspects of the weekend." Here's to Lincoln Calling '09.

* * *

Speaking of noteworthy tours, while glancing at the Saddle Creek Records tour schedules on their website, I noticed that there's an Azure Ray concert scheduled for The Troubadour in Los Angeles on Nov. 30. The duo of Maria Taylor and Orenda Fink had played together for 13 years prior to their split in 2005. Now three years later, they're back together again, at least for one night.

Saddle Creek Records label chief Robb Nansel said the concert is a "one-off for now," but added, "Hopefully it leads to more stuff." While I've enjoyed Maria's and Orenda's solo and band projects, none of them reached the level of their Azure Ray output. Could this be the beginning of a long-term thing? Only time will tell. Hey Robb, when are we going to get that reunion on Slowdown's stage?

* * *

Finally, a bit of nostalgia: My all-time favorite concert film was released for the first time on DVD this past Tuesday -- U2's Live at Red Rocks. And with it comes an accompanying live album, a remastered version of Under a Blood Red Sky, a record that captured U2 at its creative zenith, when the band was still young and angry and everything they did felt important. Filmed during a rainstorm at Denver's Red Rocks Amphitheater on June 5, 1983, the DVD captures a break-neck performance of their best songs from the pre-Unforgettable Fire years (Boy, War, October) including five previously unreleased live cuts, a director's commentary, digitally re-graded pictures and a 5.1 mix. Never has this material sounded so good, and never again will this band be so relevant. Some things, it seems, don't improve with age.

* * *

There's a handful of interesting shows going on tonight.

The Waiting Room is hosting a trio of dusty psychedelic bands including Secretly Canadian act Catfish Haven, Athens band Dead Confederate and Awesome Color. $10, 9 p.m.

Meanwhile, The Barley St. has a trio of punk acts headlined by The Yuppies, with The Dinks and Black Time. $?, 9 p.m.

And finally, down at Slowdown Jr., it's the return of Kayo Dot with Omaha noise rock duo The Lepers and the sound art of Fathr. $7, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--