Also playing Monday: DIRTBIKE PUPPET THEATRE, MEAGAN BOYD'S PUPPET FUNERAL, COBRA LILLIES, HEROES OF POPULAR WARS, CORNDAWG at Pehrspace.
Marnie Stern. See Friday.
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TUESDAY/FEBRUARY/22
VIVIAN GIRLS, CATWALK, COLD SHOWERS AT THE SMELL
Perhaps it has something to do with the Runaways' cinematic resurgence last year, but indie rock's obsession with hard-rocking garage punkettes continues unabated into the new year. And as long as the Brooklyn-based Vivian Girls are in the game, this is a very, very good thing. Though the band was only formed in 2007, Vivian Girls have become a breeding ground for like-minded projects. Members have gone on to join or form Best Coast, Dum Dum Girls, La Sera, Babies and Frankie Rose & the Outs (to name a few), but the original act has hardly been skeletonized or diluted by that. Rather, they released a critically lauded, lo-fi fan favorite in 2009, Everything Goes Wrong, and are gearing up for their third album this spring, fittingly titled Share the Joy. Opening are Cold Showers — a new outfit featuring at least one former member of L.A.'s own femme-punk clearinghouse, Mika Miko — and Catwalk, another jangly, retro, Wall of Sound–inspired act, albeit fronted by a fella from Oxnard. All three are worth seeing. (Chris Martins).
Also playing Tuesday: VERSUS at the Echo; DEATH ANGEL at Key Club.
WEDNESDAY/FEBRUARY/23
JOHN WATERS' "THIS FILTHY WORLD GOES HOLLYWOOD" AT ROYCE HALL
Director John Waters is about as lovable as deviants come these days. Nearly 30 years ago, he captured pal Divine scarfing down dog shit on film in Pink Flamingos. Today he strides triumphantly onto the stage at UCLA's Royce Hall to deliver a bigger, bolder and bawdier version of his acclaimed vaudeville-cum-standup act released on DVD in 2006 as This Filthy World. As he says himself: "This filthy world — it's a beautiful place, isn't it?" Any film freak already has (or should already have) a wet spot in his or her heart for Waters, who's oozed deeper into the mainstream each year. But Waters — like R. Crumb — is an artist who knows music, too. He put the Dead Boys' punk frontman Stiv Bators, R&B belter Ruth Brown and, of course, Iggy Pop in front of the camera and filled his soundtracks with songs by unsung legends like Andre Williams, Ike Turner and Link Wray. Especially in the early days, his films were as vital a portal into the musical underworld as any Cramps record or Creem magazine. Enjoy the opening set by Elvis Perkins, too. His bent Buddy Holly–meets–Jeff Mangum pop would fit nicely over one of Waters' closing-credit crawls. (Chris Ziegler)
CHOCOLATE GENIUS AT BOOTLEG THEATER
At some point, something went terribly right for Mark Anthony Thompson, the singer/composer/multi-instrumentalist who midway through a semisuccessful solo career recast himself as Chocolate Genius Inc. and hasn't looked back. A supremely gifted singer and songwriter boasting an almost absurdly varied plate of influences and stylistic approaches, CG is at core something of a provocateur, as his pushy name makes clear — the better, it seems, to dislocate you, and more likely himself. His latest, Swansongs, is, like his earlier Black Music, Godmusic and Black Yankee Rock sets, another post-post bag of tunes whose aim seems primarily to smear the lines of what we think we know about the possibilities and obligations of an African-American man with a mouth and a guitar. His live bands, often featuring the hellacious skrawk of guitar god Marc Ribot, are notoriously explosive, and Mr. Genius himself is a supple strummer and velvety crooner. You might request "Bossman Pissed in My Lemonade." (John Payne)
FREDDIE GIBBS & THE PARK, FREE THE ROBOTS AT THE TROUBADOUR
Freddie Gibbs has been hailed as the second coming of Tupac Shakur. He's been signed and dropped by Interscope, then re-signed to the budding Deacon imprint. He's released a song called "National Anthem (Fuck the World)," which lays out his beef with the industry and various other "playa-haters" with the flair and contempt of a veteran. Yet, he still hasn't dropped a proper debut album. As previously implied, this hasn't been for lack of trying. The Gary, Ind.–born Gibbs is as motivated as they come, and when his label refused to back him, he responded by releasing two free mixtapes of his music. These — in particular, The Miseducation of Freddie Gibbs — earned the man a name for portraying social struggle in a realistic but respectful light, via a gangsta delivery that consistently takes no prisoners. It does, however, earn some high-profile followers, as the Black Keys' Dan Auerbachm the Cool Kids' Chuck Inglish and legendary Southern rapper Bun B; the latter joined Gibbs for a song on last year's Str8 Killa EP. Word is a full-length is coming out this year dubbed Baby-Faced Killa. He appears here backed by live funk-soul players the Park. (Chris Martins)
BALKAN BEAT BOX AT THE CONGA ROOM
Led by former Gogol Bordello drummer Tamir Muskat, Balkan Beat Box have much of the frenetically festive approach of the notorious New York Gypsy punks, blurring old-world traditionalism with an intensely aggressive attack. Unlike Gogol Bordello, however, the Balkans also branch out with a more dance-heavy electronic style on their recent album Blue Eyed Black Boy. As the title suggests, Balkan Beat Box's sound is a contradictory mélange of disparate cultures and rhythms. Firewater saxophonist Ori Kaplan may draw upon jazz and klezmer, but once his merry melodies are pumped up by Muskat's drumming and singer Tomer Yosef's percussion, the end result is something that's curiously fresh. Reggae, funk, dub and Latin rhythms collide on tracks like "Marcha de la Vida," with Kaplan's horns crowing proudly like a rooster over the bubbling brew. (Falling James)
