Rock Picks: Deborah Harry, Björk, Richard Hawley, Shonen Knife, Bang Sugar Bang

Deborah Harry at Henry Fonda Theater

“Blondie is a group,” the ad slogans announced a bit defensively after the pop-rock band emerged from the CBGB scene in the mid-’70s. The statement emphasized that the singer’s name wasn’t Blondie and that she was backed by a legitimate band of equals. But if Deborah Harry wasn’t Blondie, she was certainly one of its two main members — along with her partner Chris Stein — in creating such exuberant ’60s-style pop tunes as “In the Sun” and “Pretty Baby” and slightly edgier tracks like “Rip Her to Shreds.” Blondie were one of the first of the new-wave bands to experiment with disco (“Heart of Glass”) and rap (“Rapture”), so you can’t blame Harry for fooling around with sleek dance-music settings on her new CD, Necessary Evil, her first solo album since 1993’s Debravation. There are hip-hop traces in the seductive “Dirty & Deep,” but the production by Brooklyn duo Super Buddha is generically slick instead of soulful, with the rock tunes coming off as bombastic and anonymous, and much of the songwriting is clichéd. At age 62, the charismatic diva is still in fine voice, though, making this rare visit potentially interesting. (Falling James)

Also playing Friday:

ANDREW BIRD, HANDSOME FAMILY at Orpheum Theatre; DENGUE FEVER at the Getty Center; SPICE GIRLS at Staples Center; RAVENS MORELAND, GITANE DEMONE at Blue Cafe; BLOODY HOLLIES, THERMALS at the Echo; JON BRION, NELS CLINE at Largo; ACEYALONE at Malibu Inn; CHARLIE HUNTER TRIO at the Mint; THE MONOLATORS, NATURAL DISASTERS at Mr. T’s Bowl; JEREMY JAY, CHAPIN SISTERS at the Smell; RADARS TO THE SKY, HENRY CLAY PEOPLE at Spaceland; KRS-ONE at Rhythm Lounge.

Saturday, December 8

Joe Baiza’s Congress Of at Mr. T’s Bowl

It doesn’t take a rocket gynecologist to see that truly “outside” and “fringe” music in Los Angeles typically manifests in alleys both dark and bowling. Hence these veterans of the difficult music scene in Los Angeles continually fighting the good fight — age nor fashion notwithstanding — propelling a kind of spiny, hectic creativity that’ll be remembered in the future as fondly as a lover remembering the one who got away. Baiza — guitarist with Saccharine Trust and scores of other local SoCal jazz-punk combinations — drops the “Universal” from his Congress, which these days includes trumpeter Dan Clucas, drummer Wayne Griffin, bassist Pat “Brujeria” Hoed, flautist Tracy Wannomae and, possibly, the recovering Richie Hass on vibes. Yes, it doesn’t sound like jazz — and, no, it’s not the grunt-y dregs of punk to which you’ve become accustomed — but, just like granddad said, anything worth doing is difficult. Also: Fatso Jetson, Half-Assteroids, Not in the House. (David Cotner)

Also playing Saturday:

LINKIN PARK, ANGELS & AIRWAVES, SERJ TANKIAN at Gibson Amphitheatre, 6 p.m.; NAKED RAYGUN, SWINGIN’ UTTERS at Alex’s Bar; BALKAN BEAT BOX, DENGUE FEVER at the Echoplex; JON BRION, NELS CLINE at Largo; CHARLIE HUNTER TRIO at the Mint; ROCKY DAWUNI, LEON MOBLEY & DA LION at Temple Bar.

Sunday, December 9

Shonen Knife, The Juliet Dagger at the Knitting Factory

The kindly pop-punk ladies in Japan’s Shonen Knife just celebrated their 25th anniversary of playing together, but if you think their high-energy Ramones-style attack has softened over the years, think again: Last time I caught ’em, in 2005, they rocked harder and with more determination than plenty of Warped Tour acts half their age. The band has a new album out in Japan called Fun! Fun! Fun!; it hasn’t scored an American release yet, though, so tonight expect to hear more stuff from last year’s Genki Shock! (It’s unlikely you’ll notice the difference.) The Juliet Dagger, from Buffalo, are buddies with Robby Takac (one of the Goo Goo Dolls not on The Next Great American Band); he produced their new album, Hi-Ya, which should warm the heart of any Muffs fan. Fun! Fun! Fun! (Mikael Wood)

Medium Medium at the Echo

A few years back, England’s Medium Medium joined the ever-longer procession of returning post-punk veterans. No longer exhausting themselves with music-press-sanctioned blood sport for the crown of relevancy, M.M. and their peers are now dutifully greeted as inventors of manifold music forms whose patents expired long ago, allowing for new tinkers and hacks. Considered minor league because they burned out quickly, dropping one album, in a revolutionary period overrun with titans, Medium Medium managed a chart hit with the bitterly anthemic “Hungry, So Angry.” While not as militantly meta as the Pop Group or Gang of Four, they pursued a comparable mutant-funk minimalism. Alan Turton’s bass pops out instantly, melodic and percussive, nearly supplanting the drum kit. Guitarist Andy Ryder sheaths his instrument in a vitreous wash of FX that whisks metallic shards, white-hot sparks and ice crystals. There was plenty of Bowie-molded affect in the singing styles of the post-punk vanguard and beyond, but John Rees Lewis might bridge the master’s mad warble and Robert Smith’s whine-to-wail volatility. And, like the Thin White Duke, Rees Lewis can blurt a sax for splats of warped color. (Bernardo Rondeau)