Honey, The Men, Foster Care, JJ Doll Friday May 6, 8 pm at Alphaville: $8 in advance/ $10 at the door
The season of leisure is (sorta, almost) upon us, but before you can pull out your pastel polos and Adidas flip flops n’ white socks (predicting that a health-goths-in-hot-weather with ’80s Beverly Hills golf club vibe will dominate Riis Park Beach Bazaar this summer), you gotta ease into that seasonable mindset of giving very few fucks. Without the zen attitude, you’re just another banker boy who spills mustard on his Comme des Garcons tennis shoes and makes his French bulldog Daisy pay the consequences. In my opinion, the best way to avoid wanton animal abuse is to eliminate all possible stress factors– that means lining up your go-to tunes for the summer far in advance so that when it comes to making an all-day playlist on the fly, you’ll be ready to go.
The Men, Fur Helmet, Wrung, Barbed Wire Wednesday April 6, 8 pm at Union Pool: $8
If you were always hanging out in the garage as a kid, wearing your favorite motor-grease-stained “Daddy’s Little Girl” sweatshirt, munchin’ on Cheetos (only when your mom was out back in the hot tub sippin’ wine coolers with her gals, though), and sneaking sips of your pops’s Bud, then the soundtrack to your childhood was no doubt the same ’70s and ’80s proto-metal, classic-rawk sounds that have inspired NYC rock-n’-roll revival band Barbed Wire. As the evening’s openers, they’ll set the tone with their familiar brand of brawny, Lizard-King-not-dead rock rippers. Is this nostalgia tripping or high-concept performance? You be the judge.
Arto Lindsay Noise Quartet, Celestial Shore, Zula Tuesday February 16, 8 pm at Trans-Pecos: $10
Arto Lindsay, the tireless no-wave guitar legend who’s been called “the perfect New Yorker” (by the New Yorker, no less), is well on his way into his 60s. And it’s true that DNA spent only a brief time on this earth, shredding weirdness at Max’s Kansas City and closing out the B side of Brian Eno’s nothing less than perfect glimpse of that particular scene, No New York (1978). But the dude is still doing all sorts of wonderful and new things in the New York music scene that keep him relevant and has been, pretty much without stopping, since the ’70s. Last fall, Lindsay showed the kids what was up when he played with seminal Brooklyn weirdos PC Worship, and in 2014 he dropped a compilation spanning his career (Encyclopedia of Arto) which, by many accounts, was all too modest and left us drooling for more.
This week, as I’m sure you’ll be surprised to hear, there are plenty of shows worth blowing your ears out for. Our picks include a brand new project from a longtime blues punk devotee, The Dark Prince of Garage, and sugar-sweet disco that’s not afraid to hit sour notes. All that and more below this here line.
Welcome back to IRL. Here’s to hoping you had a good one being equal parts proud to live in a country where you don’t have to think too hard about what went into your readily available Apple phone and palm oil snacks, and all “pshhh” about the whole affair. We’re also fingers-crossed that you didn’t go too DIY on fireworks after a failed reconnaissance mission ‘cross the Pennsylvania border (really, you gotta know a guy to get anything close to decent fireworks ’round these parts)– because fingers and toes are maybe more valuable than even the most awe-inducing homemade mortar blast or Roman candle to your unsuspecting friend’s face. In the interest of such things, maybe you didn’t get your kicks, but fear not, there are better, much safer ways to get your thrills via rock n’ roll. Take this week to scoot your butt to some shows and allow yourself to revel. Believe us, it’ll make up at least a little bit for this increasingly less-explosive holiday.
If that new movie about Fort Tilden didn’t have you longing for summer, this new video from The Men surely will: it involves a trip down to Robert Moses State Park and some True Detective-style dabbling in the occult. The song, “Pearly Gates,” is a hard-chugging throwback rawk tune in the spirit of “LA Woman,” and it’s off of Tomorrow’s Hits, out this week via Brooklyn label Sacred Bones (you may have seen a mural for the album — their fifth in four years — in Williamsburg). More →