woods93.jpg
Woods
Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses, Jonny Burke at the Tractor, 8:30 p.m., $12

Seattle's folk revival has sparked a heated ballyhoo about what

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Live Music Roundup: Thursday, September 3

woods93.jpg
Woods
Ryan Bingham and the Dead Horses, Jonny Burke at the Tractor, 8:30 p.m., $12

Seattle's folk revival has sparked a heated ballyhoo about what exactly makes you country enough to play country music. For some, it seems, if you weren't conceived to George Jones and born on the banks of the Mississippi, you should just stick to rock 'n roll. Which is kinda laughable considering the folks who started this grand debate are Prius drivin', latte sippin' Seattleites, and the granddad of this thing we call alt-country, Gram Parsons, was a Floridian orange juice heir. But there's no shame in craving a little authenticity in your honky tonk heroes. Growing up the poor and pissed off son of migrating Southwestern cattle ranchers, Ryan Bingham turned to bull riding (which claimed his natural teeth), then music, to parlay his youthful aggressions. In person, Bingham is a Converse wearin' cowboy, potently charismatic, gravelly-voiced frontman who exudes potent "throw your panties at the stage" sexiness. He's the same in one-on-one interactions; it'll likely be the only time being called "ma'am" will ever turn you on. MA'CHELL DUMA LAVASSAR

Woods, Dungen, Brawley Banks at Neumos, 8 p.m., $12

Woods make music that is a little rough around the edges. Some would call it "lo-fi", but that sounds silly since no one ever called Neil Young lo-fi. Like that scruffy rock legend, the four guys in Woods like it raw. As a result, Woods' music feels intimate and inviting--some would say "human." Built on a wobbly foundation of clattering drums, the songs sound as though they could come crashing down at any moment. Vocalist Jeremy Earl sings in an off-kilter whinny that resembles the creaking of a rusty door hinge, while the guitar work sounds like a cassette recording of Steve Malkmus and J. Mascis jamming to Ragged Glory. BRIAN J. BARR

Anamanaguchi, the Keeper, Leeni, Mobile Slaughter Unit at the Comet Tavern, 9 p.m., $6

With their hacked Nintendo Entertainment System consoles and Gameboys belching out squelchy, speedy soundwaves, New York City quartet Anamanaguchi is at the front lines of the 8-bit/chiptune musical movement. But they separate themselves from the pack by incorporating traditional rock instruments as well, creating hyperkinetic art-punk from the collision of guitars and programmed sequences. Think Weezer crossed with the Legend of Zelda soundtrack gone haywire, all accompanied by crazy projected visuals. Using unstable vintage gear live onstage could make the whole thing melt down, but as Anamanaguchi founder Peter Berkman recently told me, "I used to be into punk music, and the whole 'leaving it up to the wind' or whatever -- I'm way down with that. If it fucks up then who cares, we'll play the next song, and if it all fucks up, we'll figure something out." MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG

 
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