By Joshua Rotter

After 10 albums and almost three decades, Ministry unleashes their final album, Cover Up, a collection of rocking remakes of party songs for which the band feels a school-day sentimentality: the Rolling Stones’ “Under My Thumb," the Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues," and Golden Earring’s “Radar Love."

In keeping with the festive vibe, the disc also contains additional feel-good songs from classic artists such as Deep Purple, T-Rex, and ZZ Top. "“This is a case of people drinking bottles of Jack Daniels, and thinking, 'Hey man, I knew this in high school,'’” founding frontman Al Jourgensen said in a recent interview from his tour bus. “It wasn't like I thought of the bands as influences. It was more like ‘If you know the riff, let's play it, and get it on CD.’ It was totally random and fueled with Jack Daniels.”

For die-hard fans, Ministry’s last album, due today, April 1, and current farewell tour, cheekily titled “C U LaTouR,” are no joking matters. But according to Jourgensen, who will soon focus on other endeavors including production duties for other bands on his 13th Planet label and movie soundtracks, there’s no need to get all choked up. He’s not. He simply has no time to.

What's up with San Francisco skate-metal-punk contenders Hightower?

Well, they're kind of on hiatus, according to bassist Dave Fallis, taking a break from his SF picture-framing business to talk despite his bandmates' absence - "We can't form the Voltron," he warned. Hightower has made the rounds, touring every summer for the last six years, so this time, they've decided to just "concentrate on getting their lives back together" before writing songs and recording - once they raise enough funds.

"We're, like, the least marketable band out there," Fallis explained matter-of-factly. "We're not quite a metal band and not a, quote-unquote, punk rock band. It just seems like when we're at punk rock show, we're the regular dudes in jeans and T-shirts, and when we go to a metal show, we're the same way." Still, the band that met each other skateboarding around their SF neighborhood continues to find their way with the help of kindred skaters. "If we didn't skate we wouldn't know each other," Fallis said, "and as far as touring and getting shows, we'll contact people we know through skateboarding, and we'll decide which town to go to according to which ones have a great skateboarding spot or swimming hole."

HIGHTOWER'S TOP FIVE SPOTS TO SKATE OR SWIM WHILE ON THE ROAD

- Montreal, the Big O or the Olympic Stadium
- Chattanooga, Tenn., Suck Creek ("A great spot in the Smoky Mountains.")
- "Late-night skinny-dipping in Lawrence, Kansas."
- Maine's cliff jumps
- Assorted skateparks in Louisville, Ky.

HIGHTOWER
With Walken, Three Weeks Clean, and Soulbroker
May 1, 9 p.m., $8
Cafe Du Nord
2170 Market, SF
(415) 861-5016

By Todd Lavoie

Well, I can't speak for all of us here, but I reckon I'm not the only one who likes to unwind after a hard day's work with a rip through Slayer's Reign In Blood, a couple of beers, and a box of crayons…am I? I best not neglect the trusty ol' number two pencil while I'm at it, either - all the better for scrawling perfect 666's upon every available surface as "Postmortem" heralds the sheer blinding breadth of my fiendish ways, my pure evil intent. Are you with me, my pentagram-slamming brothers and sisters? Someone please tell me I ain't alone on this one.

Of course I'm not alone, silly, silly headbangers! Exhibit A: The Heavy Metal Fun Time Activity Book (2007), recently unleashed upon the previously untapped Crayola-wielding caught-in-a-mosh market by ECW Press/Independent Publishers Group. Authored and drawn by Aye Jay Morano - credited here as simply "Aye Jay" - the 48-page children's activity book send-up pays loving tribute to those fantastic little workbooks Mom and Dad would buy us at the supermarket or the toy store to shut us up for a few hours in the car during long drives.

Yep, I remember a bout or two of gut-wobbling carsickness on trips up to summer cabins and amusement parks, thanks to burying myself nose-deep in those suckers, throwing myself into diamond-cutting concentration trances in an effort to keep coloring with the lines! Oh, how I loved those books - excitement awaiting on every page, with dot-to-dots, mazes, word searches, brain teasers, and oodles of pictures ready for the colorin'! Any chance to bust out the burnt sienna and my stubby little fingers would set a-twitching in anticipation.

Vikter Duplaix and Daz-I-Kue (Bugz in the Attic) get down at the Om party. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photographer Robin Russell swung through Miami's Winter Music Conference, which ran from March 25-29, and sent these dispatches. First up: the fete thrown by SF-based Om Records at Y Ultralounge on Thursday, March 27.

Cobblestone Jazz settles in.

Things heat up at the Om party.

By G.W. Schulz
Photos by Mirissa Neff

METAL HANDS: A GESTURAL GLOSSARY

Every metal show contains plenty of dudes who merely headbang softly to themselves with their hands stuffed into the pockets of their tight black hoodies. A sea of empty faces they are. What fun is that? In honor of our metal issue this week, here are a few ways you can cheerlead the next time you're at a metal show.

Classic horns A staid gesture to be sure — but fairly reliable. You know the drill here. Turn it to the side and pump it like a fist for added pleasure.

The Claw When deploying just one hand to exhibit the claw, as opposed to the invisible orbs, bring it close to your face and pull downward for a melodramatic affect. Growl a little, too, like it just can't get any more metal ... when deep down you know it really can.

Land ho There's really never been a sufficient name for outright pumping your fist or fists at a show, but some folks around here are calling it "land ho." It's better off with no distinct title. Fist pumping during violent blastbeats or a huge, doomy breakdown is raw and organic, like the beginning of time. It needs no name. And it spans genres. We advise, however, that you reserve dual fists for truly metal moments. The members of Portland, Ore.'s Tragedy have been known to throw out a fist or two while playing, but this is extremely dangerous and should be done by professionals only.

Invisible orbs This is a variation of the Claw, except that you do it with both hands and hold them out in front of you rather than near your face, as if you're holding two invisible orbs. We contend that the invisible orbs should be savored while you're listening to Scandinavian metal or anything heavily influenced by it. If you scan the artwork on old black metal records, the bands are often posing with some version of the orbs, gritting their teeth and trying to look as menacing as possible.

Ruben Mancias, Wumni, and Jellybean Benitez meet in Miami. All photos by Robin Russell.

The Winter Music Conference's Jellybean Soul label party at Hotel Victor on Friday, March 28, was next on contributing photog Robin Russell's schedule in Miami. Here's what she caught.

Little Louie Vega and Mike "Agent X" Clark are all smiles.

London-born singer-dancer Wumni lent her vocals to Ruben Mancias's "Let It Rain (Ko Ma Ro)."

Striped, Ripe, Culty, and Sultry: the Cribs. Photo by J. Beckman.

Who are these mystery scamps in UK's the Cribs - working with Franz Ferdinand's Alex, Sonic Youth's Lee Renaldo, and the Smiths' Johnny Marr alike? And landing at Popscene tonight, April 3? I traded e-mails with the youngest Jarman brother, Ross, who drums in the threesome.

SFBG: What's it like being a "family band"? And do you think they get a bad rap?

Ross Jarman: To be honest, we are unaware what it is like to be anything but a family band. I'm curious what being in a band with your friends is like. I think being in a band with your brothers is easier, as there is more honesty towards writing, etc., and it keeps the three of us on a level playing field.

SFBG: What was it like to work with Alex from Franz Ferdinand on the Mens Needs... album?

RJ: Being in the studio with Airwolf was a lot of fun. We had offers from other producers before he came into the equation, but we didn't want to make a record that sounded like a load of others, so going in with a producer who was producing for the first time out of his own circle, we knew we were going to get something unique. He also knew the band a lot more than any other producer, as he had seen us play every night for two months on a tour of the US.

Before he jetted off to be all jetset in Miami at the WMC, SF-native DJ Ruben Mancias jammed EndUp last Saturday night for the Devotion 7-Year Reunion party. Oh yes, I'm one o' them dancing hands-up fools in this clip:

Ruben and his partner Eric left to find fortune and fame in NYC a few years ago, taking their regular EndUp Sunday night party Devotion with them. It was great to have it (and them) back for one night only -- if only to get that ol' EndUp Saturday at 5 in the morning bangin' house feeling back (one day I'll write about all the crazy amazing -- cramazing! -- night people you encounter on the dancefloor at that time.)

Ruben -- who I've known since we used to run with legendary SF house maestro Aaron O (RIP, croissant goddess) back in the early '90s -- really turned it out, playing some of my favorite tracks, like Teddy Douglas's "Whatcha Gonna Do," and classics like the '88 Ralphi Rosario barnstormer above. The mood was electric-atmospheric with a bouncy bass undertow and more than a little nostalgia. The crowd was mixed and ready. Work.

PS -- Devotion may be ovah, and somewhat similar-tracked Fag Fridays long gone, but you can still get a taste of the above with DJ David Harness, another well-known Aaron O acolyte, when he returns from the WMC to play new goodies all night long at Super Soul Sundayz this coming Sunday, 4/6 10pm-4am at the EndUp. See you (sweaty) there.

Groove Junkies got the junk out of the trunk at Terry Thompson and Friends Presents. All photos by Robin Russell.

Maimi's Winter Music Conference kept the beat going as contributing photographer Robin Russell stopped into both Push FM/R2 Records' soiree at Love Hate and the Terry Thompson and Friends Presents event at the Chelsea Hotel on Friday, March 28.

Push FM DJ Abicah Soul manned the decks at the bash hosted by the London online radio station.

The crowd at Push FM/R2 Records' night.

John "Julius" Knight made an appearance at Terry Thompson's Baltimore/DC house throwdown.

By Alex Felsinger

What happened to women in indie rock? The rocking influence of PJ Harvey and Sleater-Kinney seems to have all but vanished in the hands of indie-pop darlings like Au Revoir Simone or Camera Obscura. These and many other successful female-fronted indie bands in recent years follow the same formula of cute, poppy songs. A Belle and Sebastian influence permeates, while the Pixies inspiration is played down. Indie was once edgy, but now it's mostly serene.

But San Francisco has a hold-out: Finest Dearest has essentially ignored the current indie scene. Their new self-titled album on Bloodtown Records could easily fit among discs by the powerful women of '90s indie rock.

Formed in 2004, the band has never been afraid of the drums-guitar-bass formula, and for the most part, their music is nicely streamlined. The group initially included an electric cello player, but on their new full-length, the instrument is used sparingly on a only few tracks.

Birthed in New Zealand and suckled on Cali pop, Maori folk, and assorted indie-rock eclectic undefinables, the Ruby Suns plucked the title for their new sophomore album, Sea Lion (Sub Pop), from our very shores: the critters basking off Highway 1. I exchanged e-mails with Ruby Suns' king Ryan McPhun, who appears with his band tonight, April 4, at Bottom of the Hill.

SFBG: So why title your new album after the sea lions who live near San Francisco? What sort of experiences have you had with them?

Ryan McPhun: I guess my explanation is not too complicated. My girlfriend and i were driving down the coast on Highway 1 and came across this colony. We sat and watched these animals for about an hour. We were really close. They were making some amazing noises. It was a great time, so that's why. It was an inspiring trip.

By Duncan Scott Davidson

Here's more an interview with San Francisco's Walken. Read the original piece here.

Shane Bergman: A 14-year-old with a gun is the last thing I want to see around here.

SFBG: When did you guys form?

Sean Kohler: Actually, we came up with the name Walken in 1999.

SFBG: Pre-“More Cowbell.”

SB: Yeah, I think so. It was right at the beginning of the Christopher Walken joke obsession, with all the new movies and all that. I think we were caught up in the beginnings of that, doing Walken impressions and such. At the time it was just me and Andrew, who was the original drummer. I think we all collectively think of Walken forming again in different phases, ‘cause it’s changed so much. Present lineup: two years, basically.

Amber Asylum isn't metal, but band leader Kris Force has been a longtime participant in the scene, while metal fans have gravitated toward her dark-ambient-folk group. Terrorizer named Amber Asylum's last album, Still Point (Profound Lore), as one of their top 40 albums of 2007, and her project has consistently found a home on metal labels. I caught up with Force recently on the phone as she relaxed at home in Pacifica on a sleepy Saturday afternoon. And by the way, Amber Asylum plays their first show in a year and a half on April 19 at El Rio.

SFBG: What's going on with this new release?

Kris Force: Grey Force Wakeford - it's apocalyptic folk or postindustrial music, kind of like Death in June or David Tibet. I worked with Tony Wakeford [Death in June/Sol Invictus] - he's in London - and Nick Grey is in Monaco. We did a lot of it remotely. I had been corresponding with Tony because I liked his music and reached out to him, and he asked me to do some string parts on something.

I found Nick through MySpace. I was really despairing one night and found his MySpace page. He didn't have many friends. I played his music and totally loved it, and I wrote him an e-mail, and he was familiar with my work. I suggested we do a mail-art collaboration, and he sent me a fabulous track. Then it turned into five tracks. It turned out Nick and Tony had four. We decided to put them together and see what happens. I mixed it all and I think it seems cohesive. It's come out on a French label called Athanor.

Kathleen Richards over at the East Bay Express is our new hero. She found some utterly hilarious videos someone made of Cannibal Corpse and other metal bands playing over images of Cookie Monster. Metal vocalists are sometimes accused of sounding like Cookie Monster, so we were laughing our asses off around here when we caught her blog post. We've inserted the videos below and added a new one: an entire band of Muppets playing awesome metal. This rules. Our next challenge for Richards is to find video of Big Bird floorpunching to Judge and yelling about how he's Xpoison-freeX 'til death. Two more videos after the jump.

Cannibal Corpse

Muppets crank to 11

King Britt and Victor Duplaix make the scene. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photog Robin Russell made a stop at the fourth annual Art of Seduction party at the Victor Hotel on March 29 during Miami's Winter Music Conference. King Britt and Duplaix headed a bill that included DJ Rashida, Eleonora, Manchild Black, Taylor McFerrin, DJ Dozia, and Kayree.

Holy Spazmosis!. Jumpy young rockers Anavan drove up from Salt Lake City to play the queer (and friends!) punk monthly Trans Am at Club Eight for a rapturous beer-spurtin' crowd last Saturday.

Anavan, "You're Taking Me Out"

The frantic foursome greeted us with mucho fog machine, trademark hockey helmets, drum, bass, and a wall of synths. And then everything got crazy in a voices-in-your-head way (mostly thanks to the skittering, hyperactive vocals mixed waaaay back in the echo-delay mix.)


Courtesy of the muthafuckin' LA Times

In the case of the hockey helmets, visual connections to those masked masters Daft Punk, MSTRKRFT, and occasionally (if primly painted-on facial scruff counts -- yes, I'm calling those skinny French boys out) Justice might be made. And sonically they can sometimes resemble those glam-tech outfits a teeny-tad, mostly in their boppy keyboard riffs. But Anavan adds its own cymbal-crashing, wildly energetic No-Wave twist, sure to please the art school crowd (Richard Hell is all the rage again, haven't you heard?) and dance floor maniacs as well as indie kids. I expect you'll hear them burning down discos near you soon.

(Next month a Trans Am, Sat May 3, features SF native cuties Ex-Boyfriends -- should be rocking'.)

By Nathan Baker

Tift Merritt is giving something away. It seems delicate but could be strong as steel, a gift from a solitary place but one that she openly shares. It is Another Country (Fantasy). When Lost Highway Records broke things off with the Grammy-nominated songwriter in 2006 she retired to a room in Paris to put down this portrait of a spirit that is at once resilient and vulnerable. "Sometimes you fall up these stairs," Merritt sings on "Tender Branch," bruised but not beaten.

If there is a bit of the expatriate in this record it is not the decadent self-destruction of Papa Hemingway but the anxiety and awe of a stranger navigating a mysterious place. In "Love is Another Country" her sentiment is simple and perfect: "I wanna go with you."

Produced by George Drakoulias, whose clients include the Black Crowes and the Jayhawks, Another Country both reflects and refracts country music. "Tell Me Something True" and "My Heart is Free" illustrate what all the Bonnie Raitt and Lucinda Williams comparisons are for, but mostly Merritt's is an Americana of the mind - the vernal pleasures Saint-Sulpice, a pastoral stroll along the Seine, the silver needle of a Parisian clothier pushing through a linen summer dress.

TIFT MERRITT
With Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek
April 14, 8 p.m., $16
Great American Music Hall
859 O’Farrell, SF
(415) 885-0750

Marcus Worgull got the crowd going. All photos by Robin Russell.

Winter Music Conference in Miami rolled onward as contributing photographer Robin Russell checked out the popular local party Aquabooty Music2 at Opium Garden on March 29. Innervsions artists like Ame, Dixon, Henrik Schwarz and Marcus Worgull appeared along with DJ Harvey and Miguel Migs.

Rich Medina spun Philly soul.

Mr. White and Marcus Worgull took the stage.

By Todd Lavoie

Charmed, I am - former Arab Strap post-folkie Malcolm Middleton has just released his fourth album, Sleight of Heart (Full Time Hobby), and it's a corker, I'm telling you. A fitting title, too - there's some lovely little magic at play here, fashioning such shimmers and sparkles from the sadder reaches of the emotional continuum.

Sleight of heart? Sleight of hand, while we're at it. Middleton plays a swift game of "now you see it, now you don't" in his songwriting, tossing up chippy-chip-chipper bluebirds of melody only to smother them in his smog-gray handkerchief with the turn of a devastating phrase. Ol' Malcolm's a master at such trickery, often creating a mighty impressive gulf between the listener's initial surface-level perceptions of the song and the eventual under-the-skin burrowing that takes place later, if given the chance. Simply put, our man crafts some of the most immediately accessible brittle-hearted music you're likely to hear anytime soon.

It's been a curious journey for Middleton. Back in 1995, he and Aidan Moffat forged a distinctively stark, soul-baring form of epic disturbo-folk under the eyebrow-raising name Arab Strap (noun: a contraption used by a man to maintain an erection during intercourse). As the moniker would suggest, the duo didn't shy away from matters of a carnal nature, but even more arresting was their willingness to dredge up the uglier, less flattering aspects of the human experience.

Ocean Drive divas. All photos by Robin Russell.

Contributing photog Robin Russell closes her WMC dispatches with a stop at Giant Step Presents Sunset Soiree at the Delano Hotel on March 29. Look for Turntables on the Hudson, out with Supreme Beings of Leisure at Mezzanine on April 18.

Nickodemus steals over to the wheels o' steel.

Turntables on the Hudson melded classic house textures and afrobeat rhythms.

The scene down south.

By Dina Maccabee

Sometimes - when I notice I’ve developed an allergy to my entire iTunes playlist, when all my CDs are mysteriously missing from their cases, and I’m not ready to resort to listening to mix tapes from high school - the silence on my stereo can be deafening. In those dire times, I resort to iTunes radio.
Scrolling down the list of offerings, there isn’t a lot of campaigning to sway your vote. I breeze past the bland listings for Classic Rock, Electronic, and Ambient, on down to International, where if nothing else the flavors have a chance of being spicy. Still, I couldn’t say what exactly prompted me to try IranianRadio.com for the first time. “Persian traditional music,” it read, sandwiched between “The Best Mix of All Things Iranian” and “Persian Pop.” I must have been feeling anti-American.

At any rate, I was pleased to discover hours of uninterrupted Persian classical music, a tradition so stately and affecting that its surface exoticism melts away after only a few minutes. But I began to wonder, from whence, exactly, issues forth this fountain of unfamiliar yet dulcet tones? I pressed a button and suddenly linked the sounds of classical Persia with a bedroom in San Francisco in 2008.

I wanted some background color for the monochromatic iTunes radio experience - and some direction on how to explore the region’s music even further (the station's format ranges from Persian Dance to Kurdish Pop). Fortunately a friendly service representative at IranianRadio.com, identifying himself only as Cyrus, was able to set me straight on the mysteries behind the music.

SFBG: Who programs the content of IranianRadio.com?

Reflections on Enon. Photo by Emily Wilson.

So much to do and see, Lee. And Prince headlining Coachella on Saturday, April 26, doesn't make the schedule any easier. Check out all these worthy shows that were fit for print but simply didn't make the trim this week.

KING BROTHERS AND THE FLAKES
Kawaii-cute Japanese distorto-rockers meet Bay Area garage first-schoolers. With Shellshag and Bananas. Thurs/10, 8:30 p.m., $10. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

HERCULES AND LOVE AFFAIR
"I cannot hold / a half a life / I cannot be / at half a wife." So goes "Time Will" off Hercules and Love Affair's new self-titled DFA/EMI album. Dulcet warbles care of Antony of Antony and the Johnsons meet cool synthetics with keys by Andrew Butler and drum programming by DFA's Tim Goldsworthy. Instant love affair, for sure. With Timo Maas and Honey Soundsystem. Fri/11, 10 p.m. doors, $15-$30. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

By Jamilah King

Bay Area DJ Kero One likes to say that he got his Seoul from Korea. Regardless of its origins, his talents as a producer, DJ, and MC are creating a big buzz in hip-hop. He's collaborated with Grand Puba, Aloe Blacc, and Ohmega Watts. His smooth sound takes hip-hop back to its roots while also moving it forward. Tonight, March 11, Kero One performs at 111 Minna Gallery; he also has a monthly at Madrone Lounge.

He sat down to talk about his music, and more.

SFBG: You're from the Bay. Where in the Bay did you grow up?

Kero One: I grew up in the Santa Clara area, and moved to the city about three years ago to get more serious about my music career.

SFBG: When did you fall in love with music?

KO: I remember being really little and staying up into the wee hours of the night to listen to the radio and stations like KMEL. My mom would come in and try to get me to go to bed, then I'd get right back up and turn the radio on and listen to stuff like Boogie Down Productions, and all the stuff that was big in the late '80s.

Justin Juul caught up with DJ Primo , of Attic, Ferrari, West Add Radio, Knockout, and Mods vs. Rockers fame – and lived to tell the tale.

I met Primo a couple of years ago when we were both waiting tables at a small restaurant near The Castro. I resented the job because I knew that every hour I spent working meant an equal amount of time away from writing. As a result, I really sucked. I was always late and cranky and tired and I had a really hard time being nice to customers. Primo seemed to be going through the same stuff. He tried to act happy, but he couldn’t hide his fatigue or general loathing for the work, and it was obvious he’d rather be spinning records or sleeping. It was no surprise, then, that neither of us lasted more than three months.

I forgot about the dude for a while until I noticed him spinning records at The Attic on 24th and Mission one night. Then I started bumping into him everywhere I went. The last time it happened, we sat in the park for an hour and talked about obscure soul music, the mod scene, graffiti, and hard times. Check it out.

Primo: Whatcha reading there?

SFBG: Oh it’s the new Juxtapoz, I think I stole it from the gym last week. Pretty cool shit in here, sometimes.

Primo: Yeah, the dude who did the cover, Parra, I like his stuff. It’s like French Old School, graffiti-based stuff, taken from weird pop and mod art, with this strange New York influence. It kinda reminds me of this writer named REES. Just like hand drawn letters with this weird, like, metaphysical, “fuck-you,” Daffy Duckness to them.

By Todd Lavoie

Guys, commence with the stroking your beards in thoughtful poses! Girls, grab your journals and set yourselves a-scrawling! April is National Poetry Month, so now's the time to start looking deep and sensitive and positively brimming over with penetrating insight. Spring is in the air - the flowers are blooming and birds are chirping - so why not summon your muse and whip up an ode or a sonnet to celebrate all this marvelous rebirth? No way, you say? OK, how about a haiku, then? A limerick? Something cribbed from a restroom wall, perhaps?

If putting words to paper isn't your thing, or if reading poetry doesn't float your boat, either, fret not. All hope is not lost for giving April the rune-and-rhyme lovin' it deserves. How about a little poetry-in-song, then? Sure, I suppose you could say most songs are poetry, in a sense - I mean, you don't need an MFA to take the average pop song and dissect it into meter, rhyme, verse structure, and all of its other little bits 'n' pieces - but strip away the music and much of the power of the argument is lost.

Put it this way: if you simply read aloud the lyrics of most songs, unaccompanied, they'd sound like pretty weak excuses for poetry. Embarrassing, even. And no, I'm not hatin' - I'm just sayin', that's all. Nah, you won't catch any poetry snobbery from me - hell, I adore Marc Bolan, but you won't sneak me passing off any T. Rex ditties as shining examples of poetic form. Still, I've always been fascinated with intersections of poetry and song; I did a little scraping around in my thought-box and here are a few successful experiments of music/poem collisions which came to mind:

Ken Nordine, Colors (The Nordine Group/Asphodel)
"Word Jazz", he called it - in fact, the rumbling, rich-baritoned radio/television voiceover maestro liked the phrase so much that he used it as the title of his 1957 debut. Over the course of a series of inventive, parameter-pushing Word Jazz recordings made in the '50s and '60s, Nordine married loose, free-association musings to bongo-friendly bohemian-jazz - yep, very Beat Generation, daddy-o.

Party with me, plus. All photos by Joshua Rotter.

By Joshua Rotter

Going out dancing can be a confidence-buster for peeps of all sizes. But the extreme shame imposed on plus-size women often outweighs their desire to hit da club. Full-figured party promoter Lady Tigress was no different. “I was never a clubber in my twenties because I didn't feel like I would be comfortable in a nightclub setting,” Tigress said. “I bought into what I saw on TV and thought everyone in bars or dance clubs looked like Beyonce or Britney.”

In a world where the Barbie doll reigns supreme, these notions are only reinforced by a media that has little love for big girls. Rarely on the covers of magazines, large women remain the laughing stock of hip-hop videos, the early eliminations on reality showmances, and stand-up fodder for late night television: think Jay Leno’s Jonah and the whale jokes about Lewinskygate. And Lady Tigress knows that clubland is no kinder.

“There are gorgeous plus-size women in all types of clubs all over the Bay,” Tigress said. “But even if they are confident, there is snickering that sometimes happens when a crew of big girls shows up at a mainstream club, or they are sometimes ignored because a lot of people don't want to admit that they are attracted to women who live outside of the super-skinny American beauty standard.”

After Tigress started going out to Bay Area BBW parties such as Big Boogie Nights, Sexy at Any Size, and Heavy Rotation in her thirties, she realized that if the event was fat-friendly, these women would come out and party. So Tigress was inspired to create an even larger night, a hip-hop party for plus-size women and their fans called Full Figure Friday, and decided to host her evening, unlike similar hotel-based events across the Bay, at the stylish San Francisco club Bambuddha Lounge.

What is this crazy lil' magikal thing called Elf Power?

San Francisco, you're just too much. And that goes for you too, Oakland and San Jose. There's just far too much to do in the Bay Area - more than we have pages for. But well hell, that's what Sonic Reducer Overage is fer, ain't it. Check out all the fun you maybe oughta be checking out.

BLACK DIAMOND HEAVIES
These southern raspies do the blues-rock duo their own nasty, hard-ass way. With Or, the Whale and Low Red Land. Thurs/17, 9:30 p.m., $7. Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. (415) 923-0923.

GHOSTLAND OBSERVATORY
Pigtail fever! Who knew this Austin, Texas, electro-synth-soul-pop twosome would be blowing up as massively as they have. Expect 'em to break out the Cylon with the release of Robotique Majestique (Trashy Moped). With the Villains. Thurs/17, 9 p.m., $20. Mezzanine, 444 Jessie, SF. (415) 820-9669.

IAN FAYS
The SF-by-way-of-Humboldt-County Ian Fays like it sweet and soft, judging by the tender sounds coursing out of their new CD, The Damon Lessons (Homesleep). With Catholic Comb and Here Here. Thurs/17, 9 p.m., $8. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

INSTANT MESSENGERS AND DJ LAZER SWORD
The Bay Area party rappers get rambunctious with the realization of their just-released disc, Slammers, while the SF DJ brings a folded and spindled sensibility to the cracked beats (behold his remix of 50 Cent's "I Get Money," above). With Toy Soldiers and All Teeth and Knuckles. Thurs/17, 8 p.m., $8. Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF. (415) 861-2011.

A recent clip of Tony Scherr performing "I Could Understand."

By Todd Lavoie

So so so many choices of what to do this weekend, I know, but let me throw another one your way: this Saturday and Sunday, April 19 and 20, the Independent will be hosting a mighty fine double-bill for fill all your strummed-up twang-age needs. As part of the Green Apple Festival, Brooklyn singer-songwriter and endlessly versatile collaborator Tony Scherr and Australian roots-folkies the Waifs will be playing two nights of rustic goodness at the adventurously booked Divisadero joint.

Now, the Waifs are a marvelous folk-rock group; their latest, sundirtwater (Compass), was just released over here after hitting it big back home in Australia last year. The disc offers a looser, dustier version of their familiar harmony-rich folk meditations, instead opting for deeper forays into the blues and country-soul. Particularly ear-catching is the title track, a swampy little rumba driven by Josh Cunningham's jazz-sweating guitar slinks and Vikki Simpson's lusty vocals:

I want to focus on Tony Scherr, though: the guy boasts a massively impressive resume, as a band member, collaborator, and solo artist. Before eventually heading down the dirt roads and rolling fields of country- and blues-flavored songwriting, he was a jazz bassist, adding both acoustic and electric low-end to a variety of ensembles. Scherr started off - and only a teenager at the time - as a member of one of Woody Herman's latter-day lineups, and then went on to perform with Russ Gershon's Either/Orchestra, an ensemble well-known for its anything-goes approach to interpreting the work of others. (Bob Dylan, Bobbie Gentry, Robert Fripp, and Duke Ellington have all at one point or another been given the Either/Orchestra overhaul.)

Contributing writer and WFMU DJ Billy Jam may boast a mean Irish accent, but he's all about stateside hip-hop. Hence, the name, I'm guessing, of his event at the Whitney Biennial Saturday, April 19. If you happen to be in the hood - or even if you just wanna listen in via Neighborhood Public Radio's live stream - check it out: Jam will be helming the turntables along with Demerock Wallnuts from 2-6 p.m., at the Whitney Museum, 941 Madison, NYC. He promises a live jam session with DJ Alf cutting and scratching, as well as freestyle drums, keyboards, and guitar - and spoken word. Oh, yes, and there will be plenty of art - graffiti or otherwise, from both coasts - to see.

Oh, star-crossed phone interviews - who knows why or how they happen. Rilo Kiley's Blake Sennett and I met not-so-cute last week, thanks to poor hearing, mumbled questions, and a patched-in conference call that sounded like everyone in his publicist's office could hear every "um" or "er" we uttered. Kismet! I'll sparing you those awkward moments thanks to the magic of editing - I suspect their show tonight, April 17, at the Design Center Concourse will go much more smoothly.

SFBG: Where are you right now? [Sounds like rumored Winona Ryder fiance Sennett is tromping through a parking lot and into an elevator] And what brings you back to SF?

Blake Sennett: I'm in LA. Well, I think typically you do a couple tours for an album cycle so I don't know it's the natural thing to do - I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't do it. I don't know. But yeah, I felt like the record deserved two tours.

A recent performance by Kate Maki in her home province of Ontario.

By Todd Lavoie

Front porch romantics and summer sunset swooners, set your heartstrings a-flutter in anticipation. Canadian alt-country-folk songstress Kate Maki will bring her enchanting "No Depression" melodies to Café du Nord Thursday, April 24, opening for weirdly wonderful Giant Sand mastermind Howe Gelb. Trust me: if you've ever tumbled weak-kneed and flustered over the down homey charms of a blue highway-rambling singer-songwriter in your lifetime, you'll fall hard for Maki. I certainly have.

Boasting an arrestingly gentle, plainspoken delivery, Maki fashions impressive levels of pull-up-a-chair-and-stay-awhile intimacy out of uncluttered arrangements and emotionally direct lyricism. A cross between Suzanne Vega and Iris DeMent, perhaps, though I do detect threads of similarity with Gillian Welch - albeit with considerably less of that tattered black-and-white Dorothea Lange photo vibe going on here - as well as with fellow Ontarian Sarah Harmer.

It's immediate, familiar-as-an-old-friend kind of stuff - and yet it's all quite stimulating and at times even challenging. It ain't easy to craft deceptively simple, homespun little charmers like those on Maki's recently released American debut, On High (Confusion Unlimited/Ow Om) - a lot of folks try and fail, often out of succumbing to cliché or insisting upon self-perceived limitations of the genre. Not an issue here: this 27-minute introduction is loaded with forcefully understated little wonders. Can't wait to hear 'em live.

Singer-songwriter Brett Dennen has been getting a bunch of attention of late - appearing on Jay Leno among other late-night staples. He appears at the free Green Apple Festival show in Golden Gate Park on Sunday, April 20. Word had it he was a major-league recycler and composter, so I spoke to him in honor of Earth Day; here's what he said.

SFBG: So you're a pretty eco-conscious guy - would you say you make green music?

Brett Dennen: I guess the biggest reason is that it seems like the smartest thing to do, to invest in and live in a way that creates instead of destroys. Y'know, leave as little trace as possible. I don’t think it really inspires me on an artistic level - I don’t think I'm passionate about it in that way. It's just something I've always lived with - it was the way I was raised. I grew up composting, recycling food scraps, recycling, walking, and riding a bike everywhere. It's not like a cause I found - it doesn’t move me to write about it.

SKYPHONE
Avellaneda
(Rune Grammofon)

By Erik Morse

The Danish trio of Thomas Holst, Keld Dam Schmidt, and Mads Bodker has deepened the exotic secrets first whispered in its 2004 debut, Fabula (Rune Grammofon), with a new quiet masterpiece, Avellaneda.

Possibly a titular reference to the small port city in Argentina or the aristocratic family for which the town is named, Skyphone’s Avellaneda seems to recall nothing less than the cryptic landscapes and genealogies of Jorge-Luis Borges. In name alone, tracks like “Schweizerhalle," “Quetzal Cubicle,” and “Yetispor” present odd, polyglot taxonomies of old Europe and the New World. While the grab bag of gizmos in Avellaneda – glockenspiels, toy pianos, analog synths – and field sounds are all found in the band’s debut, the manner in which they are layered together vertically in the former rather than stitched laterally in the latter liberates the space of each track, allowing the sounds to tarry and erect their own internal rhythms.

This is a great leap forward in Holst and co.’s working method. As a Scandinavian relative to artists like Alog, Phonophani, and Kim Hiorthøy, Skyphone’s achievements in lush, ambient soundtracking are not without referents, but in demurring to the post-dance emulsions of glitchy beats or po-mo production, Avellaneda puts the group in a sonic universe somewhere between Debussy and Eno. In fact, the conjurations of moody bliss and non-Western rhythms make the album a sequel of sorts to Eno’s 1975 classic Another Green World (EG). Deserving of all of the hype, Skyphone confirms why Scandinavia is still at the forefront of avant-garde electro-acoustic music.

By Alex Felsinger

For the latest installment of Fearless Records' noble quest to release the worst-themed cover-song compilations ever, they've truly one-upped themselves with the horrendously misnamed Punk Goes Crunk. It should have been called Popular Rock Goes Mainstream Rap, but, of course, that doesn't have a nice ring to it. While the definition of punk has become so egregiously convoluted that some may claim that New Found Glory and Hot Rod Circuit are actually punk, no one can dispute that Will Smith's Men in Black theme song is not crunk by any means. Nor is 2pac, Notorious B.I.G., the Roots, Snoop Dogg, or any of the other artists unfortunate enough to have their hits covered on this disc.

At first, the idea is kind of funny - I mean, it does rhyme. Beyond that, however, it's bad. The first track, which happens to be the only actual cover of a crunk song, highlights the Bay Area's own Set Your Goals covering Lil Jon's "Put Yo Hood Up." Like most songs on the compilation, the band doesn't try to give the song any kind of punk or pop-punk makeover, but rather takes the opportunity to try their own hand at rapping. With the help of a redundant chorus sung by what sounds like Yoda, the tune sets the overall tone for the collection.

The comp has a few somewhat interesting tracks, including Say Anything's rendition of Ol' Dirty Bastard's "Got Yo Money," which is good for a couple laughs. But it's clear by the end that humanity has already endured enough experimentation between rock and rap (i.e., ahem, Limp Bizkit) and at some point, the genres need to go back to their respective corners. Frankly, I thought they already had. Some of these tracks were originally intended for release on Immortal Records' Yo! Indie Rock Raps compilation, but they canned the concept. Fearless should have taken note.

Perhaps recognizing that no one would ever put their own money towards purchasing Punk Goes Crunk, the label has put the entire release up online to hear for free. Lucky you.

WARPED TOUR
With most groups featured on Punk Goes Crunk
June 21, 11 a.m., $33
Pier 30/32, SF
(415) 421-TIXS

Michael Kang of the String Cheese Incident is in at the Digital Be-In.

The sun may have set on Earth Day, but that doesn't mean the musically oriented eco-celebrations can't continue. Here are a few more events:

DIGITAL BE-IN 16: ECOCITY
An Ecocity theme and speakers, exhbiits, installations, an eco-fashion show - and live music by Michael Kang (String Cheese Incident), Waterjuice (Vaporvent), Lumin with Irina Mikhailova, Yossi Fine (Ex-centric Sound System), Diana Rosa, and MC Yogi, and DJs Rhythmystic (Rhythm Society), Alex Theory (Mystic Vibration), Irina Mikhailova (Cyberset), Neptune (Beat Church), Dov (Cyberset, Muti Music), Goz (Cyberset), Omer (Harbin), Timonkey (Muti Music), and David Shamanik (Rhythm Society). Fri/25, 7 p.m.- 4 a.m., $20-$25. Temple, 540 Howard, SF. (415) 750-0971.

CARNAVAL SAN FRANCISCO'S ECO-GREEN FESTIVAL
Zona Verde is the theme of this green fete - which organizers are claiming as the largest outdoor green event in the city. Tribal DJs will be force along with sacred healing ceremonies, art installations, and natural home and alternative energy vendors. May 24-25. time to be announced. Harrison and Treat at 17th St., SF.

HARMONY FESTIVAL
Alongside eco-awareness booths and holistic health product peddlers are performances by Angelique Kidjo, Paula Cole, Mickey Hart Band with Steve Kimock and George Porter, George Clinton and Parliament-Funkadelic, Arrested Development, Jackie Greene, Charlie Musselwhite, Mike Stern Band with Victor Wooten and Friends, the Devil Makes Three, and the Amazing Techno-Tribal Community Dance. June 6, 2-10 p.m.; June 7, 10 a.m.-10 p.m.; June 8, 10 a.m.-9 p.m. with after-hours shows from 10 p.m.-2 a.m.; $25-$139. Sonoma County Fairgrounds, 1350 Bennett Valley Road, Santa Rosa.

Man Man, oh, man.

Man, there's too much to do - you can blame it on Coachella for luring so many interesting acts westward.

MAN MAN
Beards, stuffed animals, and the sound of Philadelphia - this is what Man Man shows are made of. Man Man's new album, Rabbit Habits (Anti-), has also been touched by facial hair. Count on much instrument passing, a palpable sense of humor, and fever dreams revolving round cheesetofu sandwiches. With Yeasayer. Wed/23, 9 p.m., $16. Great American Music Hall, 859 O’Farrell, SF. (415) 885-0750.

RACONTEURS
A pretty fun rockin' time was had by all at the supergroup's last show at the Warfield. Consolers of the Lonely sound like the combo are up to their mad, sad old tricks. With Birds of Avalon. Wed/23, 8 p.m., sold out. Bimbo’s 365 Club, 1025 Columbus, SF. (415) 474-0365.

HER SPACE HOLIDAY
San Mateo rising! Suburban savant Marc Bianchi is back from holiday with a new album to come on Mush Records - and his first children's book, The Telescope, which was released in Japan. With Lymbyc System and Head Like a Kite. Thurs/24, 9 p.m., $12. Bottom of the Hill, 1233 17th St., SF. (415) 621-4455.

No foolin': Traditional Fools at the Eagle. All photos by Jen Snyder.

By Jen Snyder

Remember when you were never held accountable for anything - save for your room being clean? Man, I do.

I've got to say, the Oh Sees, Traditional Fools, and Master Slash Slave show at the Eagle Tavern this past Thursday, April 17, dredged up feelings of nostalgia for me. I don't know if it's the comfy charm of the most relaxed gay bar ever, or if because past Bay Area indie gods dotted the crowd, as members of Coachwhips and Erase Errata buzzed around, but there was a carefree feeling about the show. If you like reminiscing about your childhood, I can only suggest listening to at least one of these local bands the next time you find yourself hunting for tunes.

Remember how much of a bummer it was when you had to go to school for eight hours every day, starting at 8 a.m.? That was insane - especially if you went to an extremely ill-equipped public high school with no money to upgrade computers straight out of the Oregon Trail days. The Traditional Fools reminds me of the days you feigned sickness, stayed home, and watched Wayne's World three times in a row.

By Dina Maccabee

The rumors are true: a band member has confirmed that if you buy Chow Nasty's new album Super (Electrical) Recordings (Omega/Redeye) at an independent record store, you can get into their show at the Uptown in Oakland on April 25 for free, if you bring a receipt. Granted, that might be an easy sell to folks who already dig the Bay Area band's guerilla party tactics but just haven't gotten around to picking up their own personal copy of Super (Electrical) Recordings. Isn't it more likely, though, that you'd be lured into buying a CD after taking in a kick-ass set and enough beer to soften the impact of forking over 15 bucks?

No matter, the thing to celebrate here isn't free admission to the Uptown - it's that these guys managed to translate even a fraction of the lunacy of their live show to a recording. Chow Nasty is the party-est band I've ever seen, crafting a militantly bizarre beat-fest out of stage rituals paying homage to James Brown and the Beastie Boys.

On tape, the combination of inanely indelicate rhymes (like MC Pep Love's contribution, "I'm a give it to you / it's a party in your mouth / and I'm coming through," a slightly zany approach to hip-hop conventions, and a kind of studied boneheadedness result amid a fantastic funk frenzy reminiscent of Beck's Prince-loving album Midnight Vultures (DGC, 1999). For this tour the drum-machine-vocals-bass trio includes a sidekick on trombone and guiro who reportedly refuses to perform in anything but a sleeveless velour track suit. Hell, yes - or should I say, "Ungawa!"

CHOW NASTY
With Trackademics, HotTub, and DJ Eddie Bauer
Fri/25, 9 p.m., $8
The Uptown
1928 Telegraph, Oakland
(510) 451-8100

Indian Jewelry - fun people toting Free Gold. I talked to member Tex Kerschen about all manner of things the other week; the Houston, Texas, ensemble makes some noise tonight at the Hemlock Tavern.

SFBG: What are you up to right now?

Tex Kerschen: Free gold. Putting everything on the line. I'm just kididing - I'm being glib. Yeah, I guess in terms of what we’re literally about to do - we’re literally driving from the country to the city, moving things. We spent the past year in Houston, in a house, and when we’re really busy we hole up in the country.

SFBG: Got a lot of jewels to move?

TK: Bracelets and necklaces and baubles - a couple year's worth of stuff. Got bits and pieces of musical gear that I neglected to pick up before. We just have a diehard postivitist attitude.

THE INTERCHANGEABLE HEARTS
Lost
(Zeitgeist)

By Todd Lavoie

Losing oneself isn't necessarily something to shy away from; in the case of the debut EP from San Francisco trio Interchangeable Hearts, such an outcome should probably be welcomed. Fronted by the coolly unhurried vocals of Lina Hancock, the three-piece arrives well-versed in matching stark atmospherics with melancholic ruminations on matters of love, at times recalling Midnight Movies at their most minimal or Sub Pop-era Saint Etienne at their most somber.

"Now That I'm Gone" is a captivating opening statement, starting off with a ghostly slink of haunted-house organ and sumptuously detached vocals before spinning itself into hi-hat- and bubble-bass-driven disco release, with Hancock achieving a curious blend of resignation and euphoria in her dancefloor declaration, "All the stars in the sky and the light in my eyes/it makes me fall apart." Fluid bass lines and weightless organ whirrs also largely inform the engrossingly floatable handclap-funk of "March," and the elegant balladry of "Be Mine" glides along with a tearful melody and stately piano worthy of Burt Bacharach - think Ivy without the French-accented vocals.

"Maze" offers the Interchangeable Hearts at their most spooked-out, thanks to the billowing puffs of organ which keep the song hovering somewhere in the ether. Top marks, however, go to "On My Knees," a coy tempo-shifter buoyed by Hancock's taunting chorus of "look me in the eyes and make me remember you."

By Justin Juul

Like perhaps everyone in the world for the past two years, I can’t stop watching certain YouTube clips. And blogging about them. There’s the Danzig vs. Shakira mideo, the Mike Tyson montage, The Mini-Mall Rapper Guy , Trapped in The Closet (duh), and now there’s Ashkon, a Bay Area rapper whose latest song/video “Hot Tubbin’”, was released to YouTube on March 24.

It unexpectedly got placed on the site’s front page the very next day, propelling the relatively unknown artist into the weird world of Interstardom. The Guardian caught up with Ashkon recently (by calling the phone number he forgot to edit out of the final cut for Hot Tubbin’) to see how it feels to be Internet-famous.

SFBG: Hello, is this Ashkon?
Ashkon: Yeah man. It’s me. Who’s this?

SFBG: It’s Justin Juul from The SF Bay Guardian. I just wanted to find out if the rumors were true, that the number you show in your Hot Tubbin’ video really connects to you.
Ashkon: Ha! Yeah. It’s me. Definitely.

SFBG: That’s pretty brave dude. Has your life changed at all since your video hit the front page on YouTube?
Ashkon:Ha ha. Yeah it has. Now I get thousands of phone calls a week from random people like you.

SFBG: Have you gotten any weird ones?
Ashkon: Oh hell yeah. I had this one stalker, some guy, who was calling me like every day. That was kind of creepy. Also, a lot of people have taken it as an opportunity to just call up and mess with me, as you could probably imagine.

As you'd expect from her brainy, rambling songs, Kimya Dawson is a pleasure to chat with. Here's more from a brief chat; she performs tonight at Herbst Theatre with her friend Matt Toby on ukulele.

SFBG: So your life must have really changed after the Juno soundtrack?

Kimya Dawson: I love the movie and I love everybody that worked on the movie. I know that for a lot of the other people who worked on it that I liked and for my family it's super-exciting and that makes me happy. It's just one of those things, where this was never the goal for me. I never made music thinking someday I'm going to make it big.

By Duncan Scott Davidson

For the rest of this interview, go here.

When I call Tim Harrington, he’s in a work meeting at VH1. I agree to call back in 45 minutes. When I call back in an hour, at 7 p.m. New York time, he’s still in the meeting: “Let me just say one thing…” he says to his coworkers, and throws in a final idea before he returns to the phone call.

SFBG: Do you want me to call another day or something? It’s cool.

Tim Harrington: I Don’t want to waste your time calling twice. Let’s do it right now. I just officially declared my day professionally over.

SFBG: What was that high tension meeting about?

TH: I work at VH1.

In this week's breathless Super Ego clubs column, I gush over the lazer bass sound coming out of Montreal-SF-LA and blowing my mind-woofers lately. Below are some of the sites and sounds -- but first, please enjoy this frikking hilarious mashup vid that makes me feel really weird

I LOVE LAZER BASS (BEAMZ System Remix) by Snalepa

Now, on with the shower ...

50 Cent, "I Get Money" (Lazer Sword remix) video remix by Lonnie Gallegos

Lunice x Lazer Sword, "Gucci Sweatshirt"

By Alex Felsinger

When the Moldy Peaches became increasingly popular in the '90s, Kimya Dawson decided she wanted out. She hoped to avoid the mainstream music industry and its managers, bookers, and publicists. Her band-mate Adam Green continued within that realm, and has even been known to sell-out stadium concerts in Europe. Dawson, however, latched onto the growing global do-it-yourself punk scene, booked her own shows, and released all her albums on small, independent labels.

In the past, Dawson has always performed in smaller Bay Area venues. Two years ago, I booked a show for her at a Haight Street coffee house that could barely seat 40 people, but it was canceled at the last minute along with the rest of her tour.

Then Juno happened. It put Dawson back in the spotlight, even more than before. Her last stop in the Bay Area, at 924 Gilman Street, reflected an attempt to hold on to her underground ethos. But when it sold out in less than an hour, it was clear (at least for the time being) that she'd outgrown the facilities that the Bay Area punk scene has to offer.

So, a couple months later, what was the next logical step? Maybe the Independent? Slim's? Nope -- Dawson was asked to play the Herbst Theatre. Yes, the famous seated venue where the United Nations Charter was signed in 1945, a place typically reserved for classical music performances, theater, and dance.

A spoonful of Kimya Dawson helps the Juno hype go down

But Dawson's down-to-earth demeanor turned the room's paneled mosaics into finger paintings and shortened the figurative distance from seat-to-stage to mere feet. She knew that she was out of place, and she didn't mind saying so. "I've never played a show in the Bay Area that cost more than five dollars," she said to the crowd, who'd paid $20 per ticket. "Next time, it'll be free."

By Justin Juul

Rock and Roll bands are rad and all, but truth be told, I’d usually rather just listen to their music on my iPod. That said, I still crave a good show every now and again, The thing is, since the urge to go out on the town strikes so rarely, I’ve become rusty at the whole procuring-concert-tickets-on-time thing. I always miss my favorite bands when they pass through because I either log on to ticketmaster too late or I mistakenly think no one else gives a shit and I’ll be able to buy tickets at the door.

No big deal, really. Most of the bands I’d actually pay to see are all dead, or too old to look at, anyway. Which is why I think cover bands are where it’s really at. I mean, why pay a million dollars for the Motley Crue reunion, when you can pay ten dollars to see dead on impersonations of Ozzy Osbourne, Tesla, Whitesnake, and Motley Crue all at the same time? You just can’t ignore the economic value of cover bands, but the best part about them is that they only play the classics. No more sitting through Tommy Lee’s lame ass DJ set just to hear Shout at The Devil. No more wondering if Ozzy’s gonna sing Ironman. At a tribute show, you get to hear the good shit straightaway and then you just move on to the next awesome band.

Most tribute shows feature three to four bands in one evening, which is great, but there’s a show coming up in the first week of May during which you’ll get to hear almost all of your favorite buttrock anthems. It’s Lynda Mortenson’s Second Annual Cinco De Mayo Bash , with tributes to Tesla, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio, Motley Crue, and more. Rock out with your cock out. Jam out with your clam out. Get ‘er done.

Lynda Mortensen Presents The Second Annual Cinco De Mayo Bash
May 3rd, 2008. 5:00 pm – 2:00am
Free Until 9:00pm, $3.00 after 9:00pm
Saint James Gate
1410 Old County Road, Belmont, CA.
(650) 592-5923