The Tea Cozies, one of my favorite local bands, play tonight for $5 , though it's free for ladies until 10 p.m., at the Nectar, and if you want to hear what they sound like, check this mp3 out. DJ B-Girl will be spinning, too.
With the recent departure of Matthew "Kraddy" Kratz, laptop hellions the Glitch Mob are down to three members. One hopes this doesn't muck up the sub-genre-defying electronic act's notoriously boisterous live shows (which have ruined the ability of other laptop jocks/producers to use their screens as scrims for their disinterest in the audience). The beautiful, bass-y noise these West Coast-based boys create and the almost feral visual antics that accompany it seem so reliant on all four members that to hear/see only three sorta breaks the chain. Man down, man up. The remaining three Glitch-sters will doubtlessly bring the pain tonight: Their electro-infused, hip-hop-tinged, glitched-out concoctions and their self-proclaimed ability to "slay crowds," as headlined on their MySpace page, make it a necessity. In the meantime, get familiar with their sound via their endless remixes (from STS9 to Evil Nine) on their site. KEVIN CAPP
Rodent Emporium, One Undone at Comet Tavern, 9 p.m. $5
Scottie hotties Rodent Emporium aren't your regular, run of the mill, 1-2-3-4 Ramone-a-bes. Track to track, these boys teach a history of punk class that wisely "borrows" from the likes of the Replacements, Black Flag and the holy trinity of "Dead" bands (Boys, Kennedy's and Milkmen) infused with a little ska, a little reggae, some C & W and a heaping helping of satirical wit. Take their homage to Rollins and Co., "Sports." Sung by a guy who looks like the love child of Elvis Costello and Johnny Rotten and sings with a soaring falsetto, the song is fueled by sports rock clichés like the arena wowing keyboard intro, (ala the starting line- up at basketball games) and Bon Jovi -esque solos; the chorus is a grunted chant of "SPORTS, SPORTS, SPORTS." It is so well executed that it'll probably go right over the heads of the jocks it mocks and become their adopted ironic anthem. MA'CHELL DUMA LAVASSAR