LA Weekly

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15

Blowfly at Alex’s Bar

To simply call foul-mouthed genius-showman Blowfly “the original dirty rapper,” as he is so frequently touted, is a grave disservice. Blowfly is much, much more: He’s a superhero, the high-flying emperor of his own self-defined “weird world,” a poster child for the illimitable beauties of the First Amendment and a scourge to straight-laced squares everywhere. An underworld arbiter of all things off-color, he’s been muddying the waters for the better part of four decades and, as his latest release, Punk Rock Party, makes quite motherfuckin’ clear, he just gets better. Blowfly’s rapid-fire, high-caliber exercises in outrage are not only some of the most hilarious song send-ups you’ll ever hear, they’re also a testament to the man’s near-supernatural energies. Expect eye-popping wardrobe, incendiary on-the-spot improv, and a skull-denting tour through his untamed catalog of insane orations and filth-infected song stylings. (Jonny Whiteside)
 

Also playing Thursday:

MOODY BLUES at Pasadena Civic Auditorium; FISHTANK ENSEMBLE at the Bordello; JOSH HADEN, MINOR CANON, CHAPIN SISTERS at the Echo; LOS AMIGOS INVISIBLES at House of Blues; SMITHEREENS, EJECT at the Key Club; GIL BERNAL QUARTET at Lighthouse Cafe; IMA ROBOT at the Roxy; CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, CRACKER at Safari Sam’s ; MIKE STINSON, CAT HAIR ENSEMBLE at Silverlake Lounge.


FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 16

Powder at El Rey Theatre

Local power-punk combo Powder seem to be recognized most for the antics of their striking lead singer, Ninette Terhart — and why not? The front woman is a virtual cartoon come to life, a glamazon who looks like a superheroine in her sexy and shiny costumes as she engages in theatrical hijinks and death-defying acrobatics including “hanging from the ceiling by improbable parts of her anatomy.” And yet for all her flashy stunts, the band has a ton of musical potential. Despite cliché-ridden lyrics, “Bite My Tongue” and “Monger” are endearing guilty-pleasure pop confections, while guitarist Phil X lights up harder-rocking tunes like “Adore Me” and “Tarnished” with sinister riffology. “Sonic Machine” beeps and blips with traces of electronics while Terhart’s melodies insinuate themselves inside Phil X and drummer Dogboy’s pulverizing crunch. It might be tempting to summarize Powder as some sort of wild mutation of Cirque du Soleil and Missing Persons, but their songs have lasting impact, even apart from Terhart’s apparently fearless willingness to contort her body into dangerous positions and attract attention any way she can. (Falling James)


Yo Majesty, Chow Nasty at the Echo

“Daaaamn!” That’s all we can say when we listen to the rap riot that is Yo Majesty, three freaky Florida femmes with rhymes spicier than Salt -N-Pepa and bombastic beats that’d make J.J. Fad proud (eat your humps out, Fergie). This old-school girl trio may be naughty — check out the choppy synth bobs and bossy braggadocio of “Kryptonite Pussy” and “Hustle Mode” — but the fierce delivery makes it come off fresh, never forced. Also on this bodacious bill (celebrating Echo Park Records’ birthday): Chow Nasty, three wild S.F. dudes who chug punk and piss funk, and DJs the Arabian Prince (from N.W.A) and Martiniano Lopez-Crozet (Los Super Elegantes) spinning what’s sure to be a wonderfully weird mix of arty rawk and booty jams. (Lina Lecaro)


Also playing Friday:

CRADLE OF FILTH at Henry Fonda Theater; PETE YORN, AQUALUNG at the Wiltern; KRIS KRISTOFFERSON at Ventura Theatre; JOEY ALTRUDA, COATI MUNDI at the Bordello; SYD STRAW at the Echo, 7:30 p.m.; VERY BE CAREFUL at Good Hurt; AM at the Hotel Café; AIMEE MANN at Largo; RICK LAWNDALE at the Riverbottom; IMAAD WASIF at the Smell; ATOMIC SHERPAS, PUTTANESCA at Taix; FISHTANK ENSEMBLE at Tangier.



SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 17

Neko Case at Henry Fonda Theater

If you want to swoon and close your eyes and escape, Neko Case can take you into the ether with a soaring, powerfully gorgeous voice. But she’ll also bring you down to Earth with songs like the icy murder-victim elegy “Deep Red Bells,” which is featured on the countryish singer’s wonderful new DVD, Live From Austin TX (New West). Recorded on Austin City Limits in 2003, the DVD is a moodier blue counterpoint to her more electric and sparkling 2004 live CD, The Tigers Have Spoken, recorded with the Sadies. Case’s most recent studio album, last year’s Fox Confessor Brings the Flood (Anti-), which is steeped in Biblical and fable-like imagery, covers both of her stylistic extremes, from the spectral ballad “Hold On, Hold On” to the full-bodied title track, with the added element of stirring string arrangements on songs like “Dirty Knife.” An array of unexpected guest stars provides further tonal variety, including the Band’s Garth Hudson, Visqueen’s Rachel Flotard and members of Giant Sand, along with shimmering embellishments from the Sadies, charismatically fiery chanteuse Kelly Hogan and mirage-inducing longtime guitarist Jon Rauhouse. It’s utterly enchanting. (Falling James)


The Vermin, The Love Me Nots at Safari Sam’s

Long before the Killers took over Sammy Davis Jr.’s old town, before there were regular places for locals to play in Sin City, the Vermin were pretty much the entire punk scene in Las Vegas. Backed by relentless drummer Turbo Proctor and manically goofy bassist Rob Ruckus, tattoo artist/singer Dirk Vermin spits out rampaging, non-hardcore punk rock with the intensity of British thugs like G.B.H. and the skull-&-crossbones imagery of the early Misfits. The Vermin’s new 30-track career summary, A Fist Full of Hell (Wood Shampoo), ranges from the slam-bang catchiness of “Girl Says No” and the scab-throated “Just Another Nightmare” (which comes off like a politically incorrect version of D.O.A.) to their souped-up take on Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.” The Love Me Nots come stalking out of the desert in their groovy-cruel white go-go boots and mod ’60s dresses, looking and sounding a bit like a Phoenix version of the Gore Gore Girls on their Jim Diamond–produced debut album, In Black & White (Atomic a Go Go). Singer Nicole Laurin rides Christina Nunez’s coolly lurking bass line and Michael Johnny Walker’s tangled guitar on Cynics/Pandoras–style originals like “Break My Heart,” then pumps out hazy sheets of her ballpark organ on the captivatingly spooky lament “Cry.” (Falling James)