BAT FOR LASHES, HOTT MT
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) The new Bat for Lashes album, The Haunted Man, is brimming with beauty, a tangle of shrouded woods and tarnished glamour. The uncanny voice and music of Natasha Khan is a joy to behold, hooky and joyous and mysterious. It's probably in your best interest to bat your dancing lashes all over the Wonder tonight. COURTNEY FERGUSON Read our article on Bat for Lashes.
LONE MADRONE, RED JACKET MINE, THE MY OH MYS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Red Jacket Mine's third album is called Someone Else's Cake, a nice turn of phrase that matches the buttercream polish of its production. It's an effortlessly likeable album because it's so apparent that these guys spent their teen years listening to upbeat pop by the Minus 5 and Steely Dan. Lincoln Barr's soulful voice is perfectly suited to his storytelling lyrics. Meanwhile, the My Oh Mys' first full-length album is rock 'n' roll for a midlife crisis, or for those times when you strongly suspect you've let yourself down in a big way. Existential moments lend themselves to good art, mostly by men (see: Bellow, Updike, Springsteen, Tweedy), and A Howl Against the Wind is a respectable addition to the canon of male anxiety. The album sounds familiar, with a wall of guitars, drums, and bass—music so straightforward that it transcends decades, but so well produced that nothing seems overdone. REBECCA WILSON
CAPTURED! BY ROBOTS, THE BLOODTYPES
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) If you were to be kidnapped by any one band, it might not be bad to hit the road with JBOT, the human, and his band of robots—the two stuffed monkeys on cymbals, a severed doll's head who plays the drums, a freaky-eyed robot on the bass guitar, three bloody and headless "hornsmen" on horns. Part head-scratching performance art, part experimental metal concert, Captured! By Robots would be easy to tour with—they probably don't need to eat, or sleep, or ever stop the van to pee. KELLY O
TREY ANASTASIO BAND
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Whoa, this is, like, the week to end all weeks. First, we got Trey on Wednesday night, playin' tasty tunes from his new solo jam, Traveler. I mean, it's no Ghoti but we'll take what we can get, amirite? I bet you he'll dig into some dank Phish nugs, too. Probably not "YEM," because that is hallowed ground (Halloween '95, yo—BEST "YEM" EVER), but I'm hoping he'll dust off a cherry "Gotta Jibboo" and maybe even a swiggety-sweeeet "Sand." Dude, did I ever tell you about the time I freaked out during "Split Open and Melt"? I'd gotten a little greedy with the boomers, sure, but it was a baaaad time, man, I'm telling you. Not cool. But yeah, this week, dawg—Trey on Wednesday, then we get TWO nights of Dark Star at the Aladdin, and then Saturday? It's 4/20, the high holy holiday, man. Get it? High holy holiday. Yeah, man. Rainbows for miles. NED "CHEECH" LANNAMANN
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