Music

Brilliant corners

All hail the Dislocated Genius of Chelonis R. Jones's electronic soul
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johnny@sfbg.com In the last year of the 20th century, Kodwo Eshun charted musical forms of Afrofuturism in the book More Brilliant than the Sun. Six years into the 21st century, I wonder what Eshun would think of Chelonis R. Jones.

"Camera! Lights! Action!" The words at the very beginning of Jones's debut Dislocated Genius herald an ambivalent performance. "I didn't want to burn it now, burn cork to dance and sing," he soon recites with lack of affect over a marching beat.

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Sleazy does it

You're soaking in that highbrow dirty humor and sucking down Cotton Candy
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duncan@sfbg.com

Sometimes you want to be, as Thomas Gray so eloquently put it, "far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife." This is exactly how I felt as, against my quasi-agoraphobic intuition, I walked into the Make-Out Room to see San Francisco's Cotton Candy this spring. Read more »

PET ROCK

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Saviours

Three guitars plus Yaphet Kotto vets equals a rock-out record release party. Fri/19, 9:30 p.m., Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, SF. $7. (415) 923-0923.

Concretes

Charming pop straight from Sweden. Sat/20, 9 p.m., Great American Music Hall, 859 O'Farrell, SF. Call for time and price. (415) 885-0750.

Fucking Ocean and Fuckwolf

A good fucking time for all? Sat/20, 9 p.m., El Rio, 3158 Mission, SF. $8. (415) 282-3325.Read more »

Free kitten?

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Kimberly@sfbg.com

SONIC REDUCER Mother's Day: the primo time to think about reasons why mom rules. So why did I spend it listening to Grandaddy's new, possibly last album, Just Like the Fambly Cat (V2)? Read more »

Dishin

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For a complete schedule of the 10th annual Mission Creek Music and Arts Festival shows and events (May 14–22), go to www.mcmf.org. Check Noise, the Guardian's music blog, at www.sfbg.com/blogs/music, for more Mission Creek festival coverage.

Ane BrunRead more »

Real huff

Dieselhed revved our motors
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› a&eletters@sfbg.com

There was a period in the early to mid-’80s when Dieselhed absolutely ruled the San Francisco music scene. Like the previous generation's Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 or Primus, or maybe today's Joanna Newsom or Deerhoof, fans enthusiastically lined up to catch the popular quintet every time the group played. To see Dieselhed once was to love them forever. You've got that chance, as they're re-forming for one night at this year's Mission Creek Music Festival.Read more »

When the lights go up

Ezra Feinberg built this Citay on rock 'n' roll
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› a&eletters@sfbg.com

"I wanted to make something that was really grand and epic, that was really composed, and maybe kind of mythic, in the way that a lot of those protometal bands were trying to do," Ezra Feinberg of Citay says, his postpsychedelic, postmetal outfit. Feinberg is inspired by hard rockmetal bands of the late 1960s and 1970s, such as Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, and Deep Purple, whose used power chords as the basis for their grand, jazz-inspired, narrative song structures. Read more »

Moore than words

The Moore Brothers tap a deadly goth angst
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kimberly@sfbg.com

Love ballads, boyish harmonies, and a single acoustic guitar four albums along, with numerous side projects such as Sandycoates bringing up the rear, the Moore Brothers obviously have a sweet streak that's miles wide and filled with melodies as creamy as custard pie and as dreamy as those steamy, leisurely days of teenage summer.Read more »

Those lovable peckerheads

Clipd Beaks break the mold
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An aggro dance-punk explosion of smart-ass energy and drunk-kid shit, Clipd Beaks can be summed up in an endless bout of name-game banter: They're tweaked shoegazer for the top 40 soul. Nauseated psychedelia. The guitar-driven grittiness of Prince's "Darling Nikki" meets the smooth-as-glass PM Dawn faux-original "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss." Man, fuck Prince. He doesn't have shit on PM Dawn. What did he give us after Sign of the Times?Read more »

Can't, she said

Noise artist Jessica Rylan projects her feminine might
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› a&eletters@sfbg.com

It would be hard to imagine a more painfully ironic moniker than Can't. It's a name of self-negation, self-defense, and self-defiance. A name that instantly speaks of limitation and deprivation, it revels in its view of the personal-as-political prisoner. The social constraints of gender, sex, love, genre, freedom, and artistic and financial success all hang off of that name like handcuffs on a policeman's belt. Read more »