LA Weekly

THURSDAY, MARCH 20

Will Calcutt

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Rock me, Amadeus: Matthew Dear

Octavio Arazala

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HorrorPops: Something’s rocking in the state of Denmark.

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The Dollyrots prefer spray paint as a hair dye.

Evangelista at Safari Sam’s

For her latest project, Evangelista, singer Carla Bozulich has moved away from the haunted Americana of her old band the Geraldine Fibbers and the industrial clangor of Ethyl Meatplow. It’s all about moody atmosphere on her new album, Hello, Voyager (Constellation). She intones the opener, “Winds of St. Anne,” in a cracked and weary Marianne Faithfull voice over a simmering harmonium that evokes Nico’s windswept collaborations with Brian Eno. “Smooth Jazz” is anything but, riven with Tara Barnes’ doomy, lumbering bass and Bozulich’s cacophonous guitars. “Truth Is Dark Like Outer Space” expands and contracts with monumental Sonic Youth–like guitars, while the somber idylls “The Blue Room” and “Lucky Lucky Luck,” which is dotted with Barnes’ pulsing pinpoints of bass, are relatively melodic interludes amid the stormy chaos. “Most people walk right through me/leave their scent, but that’s all,” Bozulich confides amid the twined strokes of Jessica Moss’ violins and Nadia Moss’ slow-burning organ on the solemn incantation “Paper Kitten Claw.” She intones an impassioned plea for love on the title-track closer as a serenely funereal organ maintains its cool under an awesome “Horse Latitudes”–style racket of jumbled percussion and noisy guitars. (Falling James)

The Cliks at the Knitting Factory

Cross-dressing and gender-bending folks have always found a home in rock & roll — if nowhere else — from the days of Little Richard to Jayne County and David Bowie through to even the (ironically) sexist, closeted virtual drag queens of the ’80s hair-metal scene. The Cliks’ Lucas Silveira is a transman — born as a woman but identifying and dressing as a male. His recent transformation informs the Toronto band’s 2007 CD, Snakehouse (Tommy Boy), when he sings, “I’ve been seeing double/in a world of trouble.” His soulfully androgynous crooning is energetically backed by a new Cliks lineup, who give his mournful love songs a hard-rocking push. Silveira has considerable charisma, and the Cliks have a ton of potential that’s unfortunately undercut by generic lyrics with clichéd titles like “Eyes in the Back of My Head.” The band should be given credit for playing it straight instead of indulging in cheap irony on their version of Justin Timberlake’s sappy “Cry Me a River,” but it’s still a lame song that doesn’t rank with the Cliks’ more interesting original tracks, such as “Oh Yeah.” (Falling James)

Also playing Thursday:

BLACK CROWES at the Wiltern; VAMPIRE WEEKEND, Y.A.C.H.T. at El Rey Theatre; JOE BUCK YOURSELF at Alex’s Bar; THE HEALTH CLUB at Crane’s; X-CLAN, AIRTO MORIERA & FLORA PURIM at Crash Mansion; RAVENS MORELAND at Mr. T’s Bowl; TRISTAN PRETTYMAN at the Roxy.
 

FRIDAY, MARCH 21

Hanne Hukkelberg at the Hotel Café

In high school this young Norwegian singer-songwriter played in a heavy metal band called Funeral, which makes her one of a surprisingly large handful of gentle Scandinavian types with backgrounds in more extreme sounds. (The Cardigans, for one, started out as a Black Sabbath cover band.) Weird, right? Hukkelberg’s latest solo album, Rykestrasse 68, came out in Europe in 2006, but Nettwerk just issued a North American release this month, and it’s definitely not too late to dig its charms: Like Björk and Joanna Newsom (with whom she’s earned loads of rightful comparisons), Hukkelberg operates in the dreamy space between fantasy and reality; she can’t resist peppering her prettiest material with unexpected bits of avant-pop noise and field-recording rustle, a mission in which she’s aided by members of two Norwegian jazz-metal groups, Jaga Jazzist and Shining. She’s scheduled to go on early tonight, at 7 p.m. Don’t be late. (Mikael Wood)

Religious Knives at the Smell

When I first read the name Religious Knives, my brain instantly toggled to the memory bank for images of the casual rites of hexed cutlery subtly played by Anita Pallenberg and Mick Jagger at the dinner table in Performance. This prolific Brooklyn band, comprised of members from Double Leopards and Mouthus, certainly seem like they belong in the cavernous manor Anita and Mick inhabit in the film; their dank, rustling sound reverberates through its expansive, empty rooms, radiating like its derelict opulence. Though they lie on its edges, Religious Knives aren’t quite a noise group. They don’t blast scorching frequencies but exhale, like curling smoke, wraiths of distortion and hazy organ. They lurk in the sorcerous wilds of psychedelia and communally dream up a miasmic mist pierced only by drum-kit stirrings and shut-eye chants, though these easily blend into the shimmering void. Check the merch table tonight for early dibs on releases forthcoming from Archive and No Fun. (Bernardo Rondeau)

Also playing Friday:

RUTLEMANIA at the Ricardo Montalbán Theater, 8 p.m.; GARY LOURIS, VETIVER at El Rey Theatre; MAE SHI, RTX, BAD DUDES at the Knitting Factory; VERY BE CAREFUL at the Mint; DAHLIA, ROMAK & THE SPACE PIRATES, HOBO GOBBELINS at Mr. T’s Bowl; B-MOVIE RATS, PAT TODD & THE RANKOUTSIDERS at Mr. T’s Bowl; SHANE FONTAYNE, ANNY CELSI at Kulak’s Woodshed.

SATURDAY, MARCH 22

Matthew Dear at Avalon

One of the founders of the influential Michigan-based indie label Ghostly International, Matthew Dear has dedicated the majority of his time over the past few years to the records he’s released under his own name, including last year’s Asa Breed, on which he married his love of dance-floor beats to his knack for pop-radio tunes. (Dude supported the album in 2007 by touring with a live band, a relative oddity in his field.) Yet Dear also records and performs under a series of pseudonyms, and tonight he’ll rock Avalon as Audion, perhaps his most body-centric guise; memorable track titles on Suckfish, from 2005, include “Kisses,” “Titty Fuck” and “Just Fucking.” Expect to hear stuff from Audion releases tonight, but hope that Dear throws in some of the killer remixes he’s done for acts like Hot Chip and Black Strobe. (Mikael Wood)

HorrorPops at House of Blues

Whether HorrorPops are tearing out their rockabilly roots or smashing punk rock and ska together, what sets them apart is Patricia Day’s grand voice. She belts it out powerfully but with a majestically sad undercurrent that evokes Siouxsie Sioux’s dark allure. The Danish band’s third full-length CD, Kiss Kiss Kill Kill (Hellcat), is a typically rocking affair, driven by Kim Nekroman’s souped-up guitars to create a rumbling, bone-rattling racket. There’s even a little keyboards on “Heading for the Disco?,” where Day puts down a fashion-victim rival for wearing spandex and wonders why anyone would “dress up as an ’80s whore.” (Such fashion fascism seemingly contradicts the message in “Freaks in Uniforms,” from HorrorPops’ 2005 CD, Bring It On, where Day decried conformists who judge her by the way she dresses.) Shallow lyrics and subject matter are still the band’s major weaknesses, and the better songs on Kiss Kiss are the ones where Day is given something interesting and personal to say with those mighty lungs, such as the noir romanticism of “Hitchcock Starlet” and the autobiographical “Copenhagen Refugee.” (Falling James)