“You wake up late for school, man you don't want to go/ You ask your mom, please but she still says no!/ You missed two classes, and no homework/ But your teacher preaches class like you're some kind of jerk/ You gotta fight for your right to party!/ Your pop caught you smoking, and he said, no way!/ That hypocrite smokes two packs a day/ Man, living at home is such a drag/ Now your mom threw away your best porno mag (bust it!)/ You gotta fight for your right to party!” A very ill song indeed, written by Beastie Boys.
So we’re officially past summer now. It’s the perfect time to take stock of your life, appraise whatever joy you somewhat notoriously experienced this summer, take into account what you’re bringing with you into the night of winter and scan the sky for the constellation Orion—you know, that sort of thing. I think I’ll go outside for a pre-concert contemplative smoke.
Never mind the insight. And strike that forlorn surrender to Jack Frost while you’re at it. The morning came and it’s still warm outside. Why, one can hardly tell that summer is long gone. And, heck, folks around these parts wear shorts and poolside sandal slides all year round, for Chrissakes!
That means there’s plenty of time to go see a concert. Or two. More if you’re the hearty sort who doesn’t notice the seasons pass because they’re so dang busy jamming out.
In fact, here are some suggestions. Please keep in mind that though it’s still daylight savings time, the nights are getting longer—which could be a good thing when you think about all the shows and after-parties headed your way between now and the first winter night when Krampus arrives to drag you away.
Hey, homes, are you down to check out a far northern, far out and freaky rapper known as Carnage the Executioner? That’s cool. because Terrell Woods, as he is known in real life, would sure like to see you at his show on Thursday, Sept. 26 at Launchpad (618 Central Ave. SW). Carnage seems quite naturalistic in his depiction and exploration to the horrorcore subgenre of hip-hop. It starts as something very orthodox; the beats are heavy, the flow sometimes sullen. These are a couple of tactics that the artist seems to have dispensed with in later work like “Minnesota Mean.” If it’s true that Bob Dylan was the first rapper, then here’s psychogeographic proof. On the other hand, if one posits that this subgenre of rap would never have developed in a warm tropical environment like El Lay nor in the deadly chess game environment of NYC, then one has to accept the fact that whatever is going on in Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota really is damned important. You can’t blame all these heretical outpourings on the remnants of the influence of ODB. But who knows about that, even; Wu-Tang is more popular than ever, more than 20 years after hip-hop’s first true turn away from orthodoxy. 9pm • $7 • 21+.
The local rock scene—apparently dormant after a hot summer spent pursuing the higher things in life—comes alive on Friday, Sept. 27 at Launchpad (618 Central Ave. SW). That’s the fabled night that some of Burque’s best rocanrol outfits—we’re talking The Talking Hours, SuperGiant and The Ordinary Things—get together with Tucson’s Los Diablos Gordos for some lucha libre-style rocanrol that’ll knock that horned mask right off your head and leave your socks (or what’s left of them) sizzling with electricity. That’s right, the band known for such hits as “Two Shots of Angel Piss” and “Midnight Meat Train” is playing a show with a local hard-rocking, take-no-prisoners duo, a legendary troupe of psychonaut musicians (their latest album, Tree of Life, sets new and spectacular limits for what stoned-out desert rock can really accomplish, btw, so go get a copy!) who sing about trees and space and, yes, an ordinary group of players that play ordinary rock. JK. It’s bound to be fun, especially the wrestling mask and starship to the outer fringes of the galaxy parts. You just can’t get this type of variety in any other town with any other scene, kidz. 8pm • $7 • 21+.
You could go anywhere on Saturday night. You could be anything. We are all one and all of that. Or you can stop arguing right now, pack up a box of funk and get thee on over to Launchpad (618 Central Ave. SW) on Saturday, Sept. 28 for a performance by essential hip-hop progenitors and winners of the award for coolness in a time of profound cultural distress, Blackalicious. That’s my own award by the way, but everything else in that previous few sentences is true. Blackalicious, composed of Gift of Gab and Chief Xcel, came to be in Cali when our two superheroes met at a high school in Sacramento. What followed was a complex, wordy form of hip-hop that helped define a culturally legit alternative to the SoCal gangsta rap emanating from Compton. Hint: Blackalicious worked with Gil Scott-Heron, dudes. With mid-’90s EPs like Melodica and A2G, the two established themselves as rappers working outside the boundaries of what was then considered wise. With the release of Nia and Blazing Arrow, they proved the potency of this new musical configuration wherein tight production, hopeful confessionalism and musical experimentalism trumped the ever-present narrative of gangsta experience. Gift of Gab has a solo effort called 4th Dimensional Rocketships Going Up that Sun Ra must totally dig from Saturn. 9pm • $15 • 21+.
On Tuesday, October begins. If it’s been warm, that may soon change, but in the meantime, why not spend Tuesday night doing something really rocking? For the mere price of your soul (and the ticket fee), you can roll on down to Sunshine Theater (120 Central Ave. SW) on Tuesday, Oct. 1 for a hellaciously humbling hoedown presented to hesher-headed Burqueños by none other than death metal provocateurs Obituary. They’ll be sharing the headlining duties with black metal maestros Abbath, an outfit that really does come from Norway—which is the land of the midnight sun or something like that, but actually very cold and dark in the winter. Obituary is from the Sunshine state, but their oeuvre is still stone cold, including forever damned hits like “Splattered,” “Violent Dreams” and my favorite, “Redneck Stomp.” Not to be outdone, Abbath has tunes like “Ocean of Wounds” and “Bridge of Spasms” to help set listeners on a rousing reverie that might just be their last before eternal damnation strikes and all those heshers and headbangers have to drag their arses to work the next morning at FedEx or Golden Pride or the mayor’s office. Midnight and Devil Master open. This one, in other words, will be a rager. Epic, dude, just epic. 7pm • $22-$125 • All-ages (13+).
When Wednesday comes around, you are still going to want to rock out. Even after all this seasonal change, introspection, festival going and exploration of different new and exciting musical genres, the craving will last. May I suggest that gnawing feeling in the gut be assuaged by a trip to Inside Out (622 Central Ave SW) on Wednesday, Oct. 2 to hear TheAquadolls. There’s still plenty of nightlife in the middle of the week and this trio of Californian dream-pop indie rockers, led by songwriter Melissa Brooks, is sure to give you some reasons to believe that summertime is a perpetual experience after all. Along with drummer Jackie Proctor and bassist Keilah Nina, this sonic ensemble jets their way lovingly through jangly tuneage like “Our Love Will Always Remain” which, by the way, features the trio longing for summer again and again. Then there are the straight out zoomers like “Big Headed Alien,” “So High” and the one I dig the most, “I Like Fruit.” These cats also harmonize in a style that is frighteningly groovy and compelling, so make Wednesday the reason you left home for rocanrol. Local heroes Five Mile Float and Karen start this trip out into the endless gooey goodness that pop perpetuates. So show up. 8pm • $12 • All-ages (13+).