On Tuesday evil glam-pop genius Bobby Conn plays the Hideout with his wife, violinist Monica Boubou, while at the Jazz Showcase a top-shelf quartet of veteran improvisers—saxophonist Ernest Dawkins, bassists Tatsu Aoki and Harrison Bankhead, and drummer Hamid Drake—tears it up in memory of the great Fred Anderson. And on Wednesday you can catch blissed-out local Krautrockers Fotosputnik headlining Subterranean.
As usual, of course, I'm just scratching the surface. Keep reading for more Wednesday shows, and hit our music listings to take a deep dive.
"Last year’s Reverence to Stone consists of two massive death marches ('A Horse of Our Own' tops 20 minutes, while 'When We Emerged' is just under 15), and guitarist-vocalist Bryan Spinks meticulously picks his moments, singing only about a third of the time—the sludgy, swooping rhythms and hell-tuned guitar have plenty of chances to scorch the soundscapes on their own," writes Kevin Warwick. "The songs peak with intricate guitar solos and overpowering cymbal crashes, which seem to be attempting to tear through into an even bleaker dimension, but it’s the lulls—the gentle interludes of flickering almost-postrock—that really let Samothrace come down on you hard."
"On his third album as Helado Negro, Invisible Life, Roberto Carlos Lange pushes deeper than ever into hazy electronic textures and languid, machine-made tropical grooves, and his gentle, almost somnambulant croon rests atop this confection like a delicate glaze on a souffle," writes Peter Margasak. "The results remind me more than ever of a low-rent contemporary version of romantic 80s new wave (somewhere between ABC and Spandau Ballet), as though Lange is singing in the shower and imagining he’s Bryan Ferry."
"Local emo four-piece Sewingneedle are pretty obviously disciples of singer-songwriter David Bazan and his various bands," writes Leor Galil. "Opener 'Make No Bones' partakes of the sparse, taut stop-start postpunk of latter-day Pedro the Lion, 'Possession' is spiked with the eerie, piercing synth tones of Headphones, and front man Calvin Fredrickson sounds like he’s borrowing Bazan’s vocal cords throughout, singing in a mellow, plaintive croon that can evoke misery, regret, longing, and guilt-ridden ecstasy."