At one inspired moment in time, San Francisco was ground central for women-dominated bands. Great, goofy names like Cockpit and Mudwimmin indicated the level of wit we were dealing with, and Laurie Hall was in one of the last of those combos: Ovarian Trolley. On Miserycord, however, as the Knife to the Fork of producer and multi-instrumentalist Eric Drew Feldman (PJ Harvey, Pixies, Captain Beefheart, the Residents), she's a different model altogether; she switches gears rolling in sultry and mystery rather than in-your-uterus outrageous. Crooning like a melting, goth Annie Lennox on "The Last Rites," she falls easily into the storyteller's role, taking the perspective of a lonely lass looking for the big snooze ("Angels come to me / I don't want to sleep alone tonight"), backed by a chorus of multitracked vocals, trudging piano, and a nebula of synth and tinkling bells. Hall's effects-bedecked, black-adder moan; images of fire, winter, dreams, general wildness; and contributions by local musicians such as Joe Gore and Carla Kilstedt make K&F the stuff of a postpunk S.F. pipe dream. But what really puts the whole enterprise over, apart from obvious inspirations like Harvey, are the reconstructed, penny-opera blues all the utensils generate. Rough-edged, unpredictable, and noirishly beautiful too – dig in. Knife and Fork open for PJ Harvey Thurs/21, Warfield, S.F. (415) 775-7722. (Kimberly Chun) Flying Luttenbachers
The Void (Troubleman Unlimited)

Few underground rock bands have been as consistently challenging and prolific, or burned through as many band members, as the Flying Luttenbachers have over the past 12 or so years. The last four Luttenbacher full-lengths have had different lineups, the one constant being tireless drummer-leader Weasel Walter. The Void is the first release by the latest version of the band, a trio rounded out by guitar shredder Ed Rodriguez (Gorge Trio) and bassist Mike Green (Burmese). This is the Luttenbachers' most rock-friendly release since Revenge (Skin Graft, 1995), and while it's not basic, old-fashioned rock 'n' roll by any means, it almost sounds that way in contrast to last year's intimidating Systems Emerge from Complete Disorder (Trouble Man Unlimited). Much of this music isn't just dissonant, but also legitimately atonal, yet it connects on more than an intellectual level because it's delivered with such genuine, nihilistic intensity. Walter and company draw on black metal, 20th-century classical, the sickest of '70s prog, and what used to be called no wave, but The Void feels like something else altogether, more like getting your face scraped across a barbed-wire fence or being attacked by a giant robotic bug. Yes, it's that good. (Will York)

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