Ayo for Yayo, Andre Nickatina's biggest "hit." Go get your ticket soon if you wanna go to his show at Studio Seven tonight; it will


Friday Night Show Suggestions!

Ayo for Yayo, Andre Nickatina's biggest "hit." Go get your ticket soon if you wanna go to his show at Studio Seven tonight; it will sell out, I promise you.

Sorry for the unexpected interruption in programming; we were having some technical difficulties on Wednesday night, and I spent Thursday flying to Detroit for my grandma's 80th. ANYway, without further ado, here are a few things you might consider doing tonight.

Levi Fuller, the Swaybacks, Q Cafe, 9 p.m., $6, all ages

If you've been needing a little alt-country in your life, I recommend checking out the Swaybacks, if you haven't yet. Ma'chell Duma Lavassar wrote this a while back about this band:

Jesse Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter need to put their new record out pronto. Much like the Highlander, there can be only one Queen of Seattle Alt-Country, and Swaybacks' frontwoman Claire Tucker is positioning herself to snatch the crown off Ms. Sykes's lovely head. This trio's gem of a demo showcases Tucker's diary-invasive, deeply personal lyrics (she laments in "Two Drugs at Once" that "quitting two drugs at once is easier than quitting young love") with piquant vocals that reside somewhere between Chan Marshall, Joni Mitchell, and a twangified Aimee Mann.

The Shaky Hands, Acorn, Ohbilou, Tractor Tavern, 9:30 p.m., $10

Erik Neumann on these Portland darlings:

While the vocals of singer Nicholas Delffs of the Shaky Hands sound immediately like a Bright Eyes/Neutral Milk Hotel mashup, he owes a bigger debt to the Talking Heads. The Portland band's new album, Lunglight, offers both instrumental and vocal comparisons to the 1980s pop group. With lyrics like "Well everything must not be making sense" and "We are living in war time" ("Life During Wartime"), both lines from Lunglight's second track, "Loosen Up", Delff makes some direct nods to the Heads. On top of this, "Loosen Up" lopes along with syncopated guitar work, congo drums, and cow bell, making it a convincing outtake from Remain in Light or Speaking in Tongues. Delff's vocals, too, approach the disenchantment of David Byrne's. On Lunglight, observations abound of an outsider looking in; neither understanding nor accepting the world around him. And this is where Delff's DIY values differ from so many other cynical singers of his generation. His songs are shot through with optimism and positivity, encouraging the listener not to fall prey to the sheer alienation felt by so many of his peers.

Andre Nickatina, Studio Seven, 8:30 p.m., $28, all ages

Formerly known as Dre Dog, this guy collaborated with Mac Dre and is a very, very skilled artist and Bay Area hip hop icon...Devan Schwartz on that:

"To all you mothafuckas that juss can't tell...I'm a Pisces but I'd rather be a killa whale." Or so the San Francisco underground rapper told us while still under the moniker of Dre Dog in the mid-nineties. Known as Andre Nickatina ever since, he's steadily delivered an album-per-year pace of catchy ghetto gems like "Ayo" (Ayo for Yayo) that reverberate across frat house parties and inside headphones. Nickatina spins urban tales of Frisco Bay, looking for the next smoke session, the next girl, the next beat for his laid back vocals to blend with; his style will appeal to fans of fellow Bay Area rappers Mac Dre (with whom Nickatina was close), Too Short, Eligh, and Del tha Funky Homosapien.

Greatest Hits, Candy Apple, Branden Daniels & Everyone Gets Laid, the Heels, Comet Tavern, 9 p.m., $6

Ma'chell Duma Lavassar wrote this a while back on Candy Apple, who return to the 206 tonight:

Candy Apple are a bunch of white kids from Chico, Calif., who make some extremely retro, organ-heavy garage rock. I know—been there, done that, right? Before you stop reading, perhaps the following scenario will turn you on to their dirty freshness: The 13th Floor Elevators and the Doors have been in a relationship for a long time, and things in the ol' sack have gotten a little stale. So one night, after a couple of bottles of wine, they start a conversation about bringing their sexy back, and come to decide on that tried-and-true standby, the three-way. After a week or two of flirting with the White Stripes and the Black Angels, guess who they end up bringing home? The Dandy Warhols! What's left on the sheets the morning after this hot and sticky raucous encounter sounds exactly like Candy Apple.

Stereolab, Richard Swift, Monade, Showbox at the Market, 8 p.m., $20

Michael Alan Goldberg, ladies and gents:

I loved what Boston Phoenix music writer Michael Brodeur had to say about Stereolab in his recent feature pertaining to the band's new (and ninth) studio album, Chemical Chords: "You'll often, in reviews, see Stereolab treated with the same encouraging shrug one might offer a reliable furnace after it switches on each year." True that. Sure, the long-running Anglo-Franco band has—like Spiritualized, perhaps Sonic Youth, too—found a (ahem) sonic comfort zone to operate within at this stage of their career, and so there typically are few stylistic leaps and mutations to be spied from disc to disc. Still, there are always new pleasures to be heard in the group's retro-futuristic grooves, whether it's a fresh set of Moog-tastic melodies, Laetitia Sadier's Marxist coo, or the way they continue to rub together krautrock, art-rock drones, and '60s lounge-pop in colorful, appealing ways for every outing.

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