Rock Picks: J. Tillman, Peaches, Japandroid

FRIDAY/NOVEMBER/27

Lauren Dukoff

Dum Dum Girls’ Dee Dee is new to this panhandling thing.

Alan Mercer

Heartbreaker: Candye Kane

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More About

• Tyler James
• Wendy Gilmartin
• Japandroids
• Professional Hockey
• Hockey

JAPANDROIDS, SURFER BLOOD AT THE ECHO
Guitar-and-drum combo Japandroids might appear to be two thin Canucks, but these fuckin’ dudes beat it down hard once they get going. Rumbling, stalking beginnings transition to thundering, occasionally ear-piercing endings, and great arcs of rhythmic details are explored in the spaces between. Hailing from Vancouver, Brian King and David Prowse fit together like musical puzzle pieces just as well as they thrash and pull at each other with their chops and beats. They’re definitely tough, and as capable of building up walls of sound as they are apt to craft speedy riffs. Much like a little Stevie Malkmus, guitarist-singer King shreds in a brainy, philosophy-student way that makes the girls sigh, while Prowse goes ape-shit on his drum set. From the completely opposite corner of the country, Florida’s Surfer Blood spills it in the form of hook-heavy power chords, tambourines, sleigh bells and synths — all coming together with a cool, gray, rainy day–nostalgic pop sound. (Wendy Gilmartin)

THE BUSINESS AT THE KEY CLUB
British punk hooligans the Business might be best known for their 1981 debut single, “Harry May,” a rambunctious tribute to a hit man who’s gone to seed. There’s no real deep meaning to it all, but it has explosive guitars and an insanely catchy shout-along chorus. Of course, the oi pioneers had other good songs, including “Do a Runner” and the always cheery-scary “Smash the Discos.” Later in life, they reinvented themselves as purveyors of fine drinking anthems and uplifting soccer odes on 2003’s Hardcore Hooligans, which featured such beery blasts as “Maradona,” “Terrace Lost Its Soul” and that cryptic exercise in mystical numerology, “England 5, Germany 1.” It hardly matters if such arcane references make little sense to Americans; even if you have no idea who singer Mickey Fitz is ranting about on “Viva Bobby Moore,” you’ll probably bang your head and raise your fist anyway. (Falling James)

Also playing Friday:

THE FADED at the Good Hurt; JULIAN CASABLANCAS at the Palace Theatre; ROONEY, CRASH KINGS, TALLY HALL at El Rey Theatre; DOKKEN, LYNCH MOBB at House of Blues; FEEL GOOD, VANAPRASTA at the Roxy; NASA SPACE UNIVERSE, TWIN LIONS, WHITE, DVA DAMAS at Pehrspace; SUPERTONE at the Troubadour; LAUDANUM, BLACK GANION at Relax Bar.

SATURDAY/NOVEMBER/28

PEACHES, AMANDA BLANK AT THE WILTERN
Peaches (a.k.a. Merrill Nisker) shares L’Trimm’s preference for cars that go boom and Joan Jett’s love for rock & roll, and she has a fascination with Suicide’s proto-electro. She’s just as comfortable singing underground club music in hockey arenas as she is singing arena rock in underground clubs. One may have thought that the shock value of her gender-bending ways (strap-on swinging and beard wearing) would have faded by now, but after four albums she’s only expanded the curriculum of The Teaches of Peaches. Her latest, I Feel Cream (on XL Recordings), reveals how soft and luscious our Peach is on the inside — dare we suggest as sensual as Kylie Minogue? — but don’t push it, because you’ll find out on “Take You On” she’s not afraid of starting something. You also shouldn’t disrespect Amanda Blank, the Philly-born rapper who could titillate or emasculate, with a twist of the tongue. In 2006, Baltimore’s Spank Rock featured a nearly hard-core Blank on his YoYoYoYoYo track “Bump,” and now he’s a guest on her album, I Love You, as are Santigold and Diplo. (Daniel Siwek)

THE MOORE BROTHERS AT ECHO CURIO
Blood brothers Thom and Greg Moore grew up singing and playing music together, establishing an inherent understanding of the foundational aspects of rich harmonies and complex lyricism. But they use their powers for good, not evil. The Moore Brothers traffic in a sound so mellow, easy and effortless, it’s the musical equivalent to finishing each other’s sentences. After bouncing around the Golden State for most of the ’90s and ’00s, and playing together (and solo) with other bands like Chicken on a Raft, Sandycoates and Owl & the Pussycat, the Moore Brothers return to Echo Park (also a former neighborhood of theirs) for a few quiet shows. With songs about ivy, bloodbaths, stage fright and, of course, love and loss, Thom and Greg’s cozy melancholy — always bursting with warped imagery, and undeniably soft and cuddly — is definitely real enough and good enough to run with those other famous boy siblings they’re constantly compared to: the Davieses, the Everlys, and the Wilsons (of the Beach Boy variety). Yes, they’re all that. (Wendy Gilmartin)

BIG JAY McNEELY AT JOE’S GREAT AMERICAN BAR & GRILL
The incomparable R&B tenor saxist Big Jay McNeely may have scored his first No. 1 hit back in 1949, yet when you hear him blow today, his tone, technique and sheer, gale-force lung power stand undiminished. While the South Central–born legend — who got his start playing jazz with Sonny Criss — almost single-handedly ignited the early-’50s “honking sax” craze, his bag of tricks has a far more profound depth, and no one explains it better than McNeely: “When I play a note, you hear all the overtones, you hear the full value of the note. That’s the difference, the quality — and you’ve got the whole range of the saxophone. A-flat has the groove; it brings out the darker side, you get to the bottom, then go to the high note, and it creates all this excitement. To me, it’s soul, that’s what it is. It’s more than what they call honking.” McNeely’s high-voltage sound is a painstakingly crafted mix of base primitivism and unspeakably sophisticated musicality, and it’s without equal. “People recognize the difference. They don’t know what it is,” he says, “but, when they hear it, they know.” (Jonny Whiteside)