Cave In

CAVE IN
Perfect Pitch Black
(Hydra Head)

RCA pressed enough copies of Cave In's much-maligned Antenna to enrich a Massachusetts landfill, though the quartet's attempt to recreate OK Computer brick-by-brick fell on largely deaf ears. Bassist Caleb Scofield has had no problem rolling with the punches; in the interval since Cave In drew rings around the world on 2000's Jupiter, he dropped back into the ranks of indie-metaldom with Old Man Gloom and fired up the ol' Cave In mimeograph as an in-demand producer. Vocalist Steven Brodsky—more of an Elliott Smith than a Kevin Shields, anyway—is still nursing his battered heart and bruised ego in the corner, waiting for the next generation of Internet message-board addicts to recognize Antenna as the moment hardcore went pop without devolving into parody. Judging by the song titles ("Down the Drain," "Tension in the Ranks") on Cave In's follow-up, the quartet wasn't able to make the best of a dire situation—Perfect Pitch Black pretty much wrote the band's epitaph as major label modern rock radio hopefuls. So those hoping for a return to form should prepare themselves for a little O. Henry irony: The more intriguing raw material here begs for an ounce of Antenna's tighter focus. The results are ferocious when Cave In's pre-millennial selves drop by for a visit ("Off to Ruin" and "Trepanning"), but the dismal stuff (the meandering instrumental "Ataraxia") casts the group as some kind of parallel-universe Deftones. That's to be expected with a collection of studio experiments and house-cleaning rarities, but this one's more odds than ends. NICK GREEN

Cave In play El Corazon with Doomriders, Lorene Drive, and Playing Enemy at 8 p.m. Mon, Dec. 5. $10 adv./$12. All ages.

DAYLIGHT BASEMENT
Any Kind of Pretty
(Daylight Basement)

In a 2004 interview with Seattle Weekly, Kuma guitarist Dave Dayton said "We know what we're doing is not cool in Seattle right now . . . We like what's around the corner." Now the members of Kuma have all rounded different ones, with frontwoman Bre Loughlin going solo this summer as Daylight Basement. After starting as a lo-fi way to set her neglected songs free, she hooked up with Maktub drummer Davis Martin, bassist/vocalist Dejha Colantuono of the Silver Apples, Jeunes guitarist David Bos, and Secret Civilains keyboardist/programmer Joey Veneziani. What could become a supergroup if they stay together keeps Loughlin's sass intact—with Kuma, she defied indifference with an exuberant, theatrical delivery and stage style. On Pretty, her ongoing tendency to turn up the last syllable of words recalls early punk icons like Siouxsie Sioux and X-Ray Spex's Poly Styrene, making the playful "Honey Bees" and closing lullaby "Fate" equally affecting. Musically, she's allusive—an almost mariachi vibe filters through the upbeat electronics in first single "Godspeed Girl"— and lyrically she's direct. On "Just Kiss Me," she sings, "I don't need a modern hero/Chivalry doesn't help my ego/Just kiss me," while on "Any Kind," she notes, "I don't mind rubber or leather/I don't care what you want to tie together on my bedroom door/Don't leave so soon/Come back for more!" Good idea. RACHEL SHIMP

Daylight Basement play Chop Suey with Mountain Con and Mercir at 9 p.m. Fri, Dec. 2. $8 adv.

SILVER JEWS
Tanglewood Numbers
(Drag City)

In certain rock-crit circles it's a foregone conclusion that authenticity as a lyrical quality in pop music is a bugbear at best and a futile pursuit worthy of ridicule at worst. That is, listeners are advised not to read into, much less trust, the machinations and maneuverings of musicians and their lyrics. So how does one respond to Tanglewood Numbers, knowing of Silver Jews frontman David Berman's drug-abetted suicide attempt, as recently related in The Fader? Do Berman's more-than-messy ordeals account for the darker mood of the album? Berman, also a published poet, has made—by his own account(ing), in a recent Pitchfork interview—a decent living writing the sort of cute faux-country aphorisms that wouldn't sound too out of place in that old Phil Hartman Saturday Night Live sketch, where the late comic actor sang songs like "I Just Found a Fifty-Dollar Bill" and "I'm Drunk (Again)." However, in Tanglewood Numbers there's an undeniable love-soaked yet bleak melancholia twisted in with the cleverness that, even without knowledge of Berman's gossip-page backstory, rings as "true" as any set of pop lyrics can. Album opener "Punks in the Beerlight" sets the tone, with Berman for the first time sharing the microphone with his wife, Cassie, whose poised vocals offer a counterpoint to his growling drawl (to Berman's credit, his singing is also more assured here). When they sing a cheesy line like "I love you to the max," it's easy to believe that they believe it. JOEL HUNT

VARIOUS ARTISTS
Good for What Ails You: Music of the Medicine Shows 1926–1937
(Old Hat)

Everybody loves a jingle. Well, maybe not, but try getting the damn things out of your head. So it's little wonder that the catchiest compilation in recent memory is dedicated to songs intended to sell your great-grandparents things they didn't need. Unless, of course, one of them happened to have suffered from the two-pronged curse best treated by Kapoo Indian Oils and Salves—a "worm killer and cough cure," according to the sign sitting above an archetypal pair of traveling minstrel-salesmen in the jam-packed booklet of this two-disc reissue.