The Hackensaw Boys ~ Wednesday, July 22
Courtesy of Relapse
Baroness continues the tradition of heavy-as-shit bands with feminine names.
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It's official: The indie-rock establishment has found "Americana" the way recovering alcoholics find religion. These days there are far too many bands successfully shilling lame-ass imitations of country music to all the tight-pants-wearing, Stereogum-reading, Devendra Banhart–loving hipsters like so many plastic crucified Jesuses. And the Avett Brothers, who play the Paramount on August 28, are a prime example. Listening to them is like drinking whiskey-flavored Kool-Aid. Sure, they're from North Carolina, as are the Hackensaw Boys, but authenticity is not dependent on a group's geographic origins (the Drive-By Truckers may be from the deep South, but somehow Patterson Hood's accent still manages to sound fake). The Hackensaw Boys, however, have maintained both Southern and country cred with a bluegrass sound that's influenced by punk rock but doesn't sound as if it's apologizing for its twang. Founded by Modest Mouse vet Tom Peloso and Robert "Mahlon" Bullington in 1999, the name of the band's most recent release, 2007's Look Out, now seems foreboding: The Boys are no longer listed on the roster of their longtime label, Nettwerk, possibly because they haven't done as well as former, like-minded labelmates Old Crow Medicine Show. Let's hope they can find a new label that appreciates their skill. With Charlie Parr. Tractor Tavern, 5213 Ballard Ave., N.W., 789-3599. 9 p.m. $12 adv./$15 DOS. SARA BRICKNER
Son Volt ~ Wednesday, July 22
The music of Megadeth's Dave Mustaine and Son Volt's Jay Farrar couldn't sound less alike. However, the two share a unique kinship. Since being sacked from Metallica for hard livin' (which raises the question: How hard does one have to live to get sacked from early-'80s Metallica?), Mustaine formed Megadeth, a metal band which reached great heights, but never as great as Metallica. Farrar, whose wound was more self-inflicted, was the co-leader, with Jeff Tweedy, of Uncle Tupelo. Once Farrar sparked the dissolution of that seminal Americana outfit in the mid-'90s, he went on to form Son Volt, which has enjoyed a rock-solid career that has nonetheless been dwarfed by the commercial and critical superstardom of Wilco, the more adventurous band formed by Tweedy. But don't feel too bad for Mustaine and Farrar—the success they've enjoyed still puts them in the top half-percentile of folks who've ever strapped on a guitar. And despite Wilco's deified status, there exists that rare species of Uncle Tupelo fan who swears by Son Volt's adherence to the slide-guitar aesthetic over Wilco's stylistic polygamy. Son Volt's new album, American Central Dust, is relaxed and solid, but doesn't quite reach the peaks of 2007's The Search, which featured one of the best tracks, "Methamphetamine," recorded by any artist of any genre in any year. Add Cowboy Junkies to this Zoo Tunes bill, and you've got a match made in melancholic heaven. Woodland Park Zoo, 601 N. 59th St., 784-3640. 6 p.m. $22. All ages. SOLD OUT. MIKE SEELY
Pumice ~ Thursday, July 23
Lo-fi, psychedelically inflected rock seems to be almost solely the province of one-man (or -woman) acts. Pumice is no exception to this rule; Stefan Neville uses the medium as his personal sonic laboratory, synthesizing various degrees of mind-warp that keep a foot in the honest-to-God psych camp as well as meandering into the honestly catchy world of quirky pop music. Neville's approach generally seems somewhat formulaic, but it's a successful formula: Take a straightforward melody or hook, twist it a bit by adding just enough blue notes to make it vaguely wince-worthy, wrap everything in a gauzy sheen of effects and feedback, then make it sound like the whole thing is being played on a turntable that's riding around in the back of a large sedan, shuddering and stutter-stepping over gravel and potholes. The effect created is that of pop music made by someone who's only ever heard it coming over a poorly tuned AM radio with blown speakers. This kind of intentionally ramshackle, chemically altered noise pop is all the rage these days (think Wavves, Vivian Girls, or Ariel Pink), and Pumice does it as well as any of them. With Arbitron, Liver and Bacon. Funhouse, 206 Fifth Ave. N., 374-8400. 9:30 p.m. $7.NICHOLAS HALL
Themselves ~ Thursday, July 23
As the pioneering label Anticon celebrates its 10th anniversary, it's only fitting that standard bearers Themselves should return to action as well. And return they have with the no-cost mixtape theFREEhoudini, featuring everyone from Buck 65 to Busdriver to Aesop Rock. It's a family affair, sure, but it highlights the Beat-damaged, endlessly refracted take on hip-hop that brought the mohawked MC Doseone and the cunning producer Jel cult acclaim back when they were known as Them. Since then they've made a serious name for Themselves while also bringing their cryptic gifts to the full-band realm with the screwy ensemble Subtle and the Notwist collaboration 13 & God. Mixtape aside, there's a new and proper Themselves album on the horizon, and this string of West Coast dates to warm us up for it. After more than a decade at it, Doseone and Jel can be relied upon to whip up jagged creations that drag us into their world like so much quicksand. With Linda & Ron's Dad, Filkoe176, DJs Wd4d, and Introcut. Chop Suey, 1325 E. Madison St., 324-8005. 9 p.m. $12 adv./$14 DOS.DOUG WALLEN
