When: Sun., Sept. 25, 7 p.m. 2011
There's a particular breed of English rock star whose ambitions only seem to run as far as making decent albums and selling enough of them to sustain a certain decadent lifestyle. They're largely unconcerned with being recognized by the average American grocery-store clerk and even less interested in matters of high art. This makes them look like they give way less of a fuck than stars trying to write Important Records, which in turn makes them look way cooler—think Ronnie Wood as compared to Mick Jagger. Ian Hunter is a supreme exemplar of this kind of guy (and they're all guys). Throughout the 70s he released a string of albums—first as front man for Mott the Hoople and then as a solo artist—that had a massive influence on everyone from David Bowie to the Clash to the entire hair-metal generation, all seemingly without breaking a sweat. On recent records, like 2009's melancholic Man Overboard (New West), Hunter seems to have mellowed out, but the piss and vinegar of his early efforts have aged into a fine crankiness that works just as well. —Miles Raymer See also Saturday. Nick Tremulis opens.