Tyler, the Creator
Wednesday, April 10
The Odd Future rabble-rouser is touring on the back of his third LP, Wolf, which has the bare sonic elements of a masterful, hard-as-fuck, second-hand, stoned-rap album. (He may not smoke, but his beats sound like they got stoned then chugged Red Bull.) As a producer, he’s head and shoulders above the bulk of today’s laptop jockeys, and he’s been gifted with one of the most identifiably grisly rap bellows ever, but it’s still hard to listen to him take such pleasure in forcing words like “bitch” and “fag” down your throat. He’s shock rap’s Peter Pan, and he’ll be damned if he’ll let any real people tell him not to make dream-world threats and illusionary crimes against humanity. Shit sure sounds good, but he’s only beginning to see the difference between realistically depicting harsh environments and fetishizing hateful slander. But, you know, it’s a party. So fuck it . . . right? Neumos, 925 E. Pike St., 709-9467. 8 p.m. $22 adv. All ages.
TODD HAMM
Poor Man’s Whiskey
Thursday, April 11
With six albums under their belt, this NorCal quintet is familiar with making bluegrass-infused, feel-good Southern rock. Add elements of old-timey folk and beachy guitar plucks and you’ve got a collection of tunes just as fitting at surf camp as at a hoedown. “Well, Jesus was a hippie with a long beard and dreads/Only without the acid and the Grateful Dead,” sings vocalist Josh Brough on “Jesus Was A Hippie”—a line that couldn’t ring more true. Known for their onstage antics, eccentric storytelling (see Jesus riding in a veggie-oil bus), and unconventional covers, it’s sure to be a stompin’-good time. With Left Coast Country, Spare Rib & The Bluegrass Sauce. Nectar Lounge, 412 N. 36th St., 632-2020. 8 p.m. $12.
KEEGAN PROSSER
Eternal Fair
Friday, April 12
This is the release show for The Horse That Carries the Wheel, local psych-pop trio Eternal Fair’s full-length debut. The album expands greatly upon the happy sounds put forth on last year’s self-titled EP—so much, in fact, that it’s startling. Where their last offering was short and uneven in tone (though its high points, like “Billy Keep Your Head Up,” were fantastic), Horse presents thorough arguments, points, counterpoints, and artfully drawn progressions; the grand, looping turns taken both instrumentally and lyrically are stylistic brushes with My Morning Jacket, yet venture forth on their own terms. It’s a worthy debut, indeed, and paves the way for more great things to come. With the Hoot Hoots, Daniel Blue & Micah Simler. Columbia City Theater, 4916 Rainier Ave. S., 722-3009. 9 p.m. $8 adv./$10 DOS. 21 and over.
TODD HAMM
Molly Ringwald
Monday, April 15
There are crossover artists—Jennifer Lopez, Billy Bob Thornton—and then there is Molly Ringwald, one of the ’80s’ most typecast teen actors. For the iconic redhead to take on a new role—jazz singer, at that—verges on the unthinkable for some. But the star of such John Hughes classics as Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club is no one-trick pony. Her debut album, Except Sometimes, released earlier this month, shows considerable vocal ability as she croons jazz standards in a sultry alto similar to Natalie Cole’s. Her cover of Simple Minds’ “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” is, quite simply, 16 Candles— er, icing—on the cake. Jazz Alley, 2033 Sixth Ave., 441-9729. 7:30 p.m. $20.50.
GWENDOLYN ELLIOTT
Trey Anastasio
Tuesday, April 16
One of the curiosities of pop culture’s critical hive mind is the way modern jazz is received as fine art, its practitioners seen as masters of their craft, while the jam-band community is derided as a refuge for wandering noodle rockers. Anyone who’s spent time shuffling through the canons of these genres knows that 1) hacks and geniuses can be found side-by-side in both, and 2) there are more similarities in their approach to melody and improvisation than your average jazzhead would like to admit. Trey Anastasio reinterprets melodies in concert as well as anyone you’ll see in any venue this year. The Phish frontman’s latest album, Traveler, isn’t the hedonistic trip that, say, 2002’s self-titled affair is. But there’s enough of Anastasio’s trademark euphoria to carry it. The Moore, 1932 Second Ave., 467-5510, stgpresents.org. 7 p.m. $40.
CHRIS KORNELIS
