Friday, Oct. 1; Burt's Tiki Lounge (21 and over, 9 p.m.): What do you get when you cross 13th Floor Elevators' mastermind Roky Erickson and Syd Barrett, the guy who was too crazy to be in Pink Floyd? You get one frighteningly twisted, satisfying stroll through blissed-out psychedelic pop—you get an evening with the Gris Gris.
Born of guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Greg Ashley's puzzling musical vision, the Gris Gris hail from Oakland, Calif. but sound more like they come from Austin by way of the Land of Oz. Ashley's penchant for feedback-heavy tunes and almost carnivalesque melodies are reined in by one of the most inventive rock 'n' roll rhythm sections since Dave Mason and Roger Waters. The band's eponymous debut is laced with looped guitar, oddly-placed playful organ passages and vocals that would make Daniel Johnston proud. It's crazy … but crazy-good in that early model Velvet Underground sort of way.
