thursday27
Thursday27
Willie Pickens
Friday28
A. Spencer Barefield QuartetEttesM.O.T.O.
Saturday28
A Spencer Barefield QuartetBrunettesThe IntelligenceLa India CanelaM.O.T.O.Plankton
Sunday30
La India CanelaSteel Panther
Monday31
Steely Dan
Tuesday1
Wednesday3
Free EnergyGordon Grdina Trio
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ETTES There are lots of ways to skin the rock ‘n’ roll cat, many of them as complex and delicate as any surgery, but sometimes you just want to hear a band like the Ettes lay into it with a dull knife, screaming with glee. Singer-guitarist Lindsay “Coco” Hames pours all her energy into her badass voice—a gutsy, smeary drawl that can cut through the dirtiest of mixes—and lets the Ettes’ great cave-punk rhythm section do the heavy lifting. Between Jeremy “Jem” Cohen’s brutal fuzz bass and the attack-dog stomp Maria “Poni” Silver throws down on the drums, you could almost talk yourself into going out in public wearing a “Punx not dead” T-shirt: this dead-simple music follows a pretty old recipe, but it’s as fresh as your grandma’s coleslaw. Having covered the Reigning Sound’s “We Repel Each Other” on their first album, Shake the Dust, the Ettes invited Reigning Sound front man Greg Cartwright to their newish hometown of Nashville to produce their third full-length, Do You Want Power, which is due September 29 on Take Root—and that ought to tell you everything you need to know about the respect these guys pay their influences. White Mystery, Buzzer, the Impediments, and Tiger Spirit open. 9 PM, Subterranean, 2011 W. North, 773-278-6600 or 866-468-3401, $10, 17+. —Ann Sterzinger
M.O.T.O. After 20 years in Chicago, M.O.T.O. are leaving us. The band is basically singer, guitarist, and songwriter extraordinaire Paul Caporino plus whoever he can recruit to back him up, and Caporino’s moving to Providence, Rhode Island, in September. To be a Master of the Obvious about it myself, 20 years is a long time. It’s been long enough for M.O.T.O. to outlast a string of meh-worthy mini epochs in Chicago rock—the Wicker Park major-label signing frenzy of the 90s, emo, post-emo, chain-wallet pop punk—and it’s definitely been long enough for the band to become the kind of scene fixture everybody takes for granted. It’s always seemed like a given that Caporino and company would be playing out somewhere every month, blazing through one brilliant pub-punk anthem after another. Caporino’s influences are, well, obvious—Nick Lowe, the Buzzcocks, Cheap Trick, the Ramones—but it takes a knack for more than just picking the right idols to come up with a tune as perfectly succinct as the beer-commerical-worthy “I Hate My Fucking Job.” (Hell, even Dylan had to travel a few metaphorical miles to say the same thing in “Maggie’s Farm.”) And that’s just one of about 25 songs I hope M.O.T.O. play at these two farewell shows. “Go Naked,” “Crystallize My Penis,” “We Are the Rats,” “Dance Dance Dance Dance Dance to the Radio”—I could go on and on. M.O.T.O. are second of three on Friday at the Bottle, so if a long good-bye is what you want, the Mutiny show on Saturday is your best bet—M.O.T.O tops the bill on that one, and they’ll almost certainly be playing another of the one- to two-hour “greatest hits” sets they’ve become notorious for. Caporino plans to keep touring after his move, but there’s no telling when he’ll be back in Chicago just yet. Bang! Bang! headlines; M.O.T.O. and Bird Talk open; see also Saturday. 10 PM, Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western, 773-276-3600 or 866-468-3401, $8, limited $5 tickets. —Brian Costello
BRUNETTES When the twee-pop revolution comes—it’ll be bloodless, of course—I want to be on the Brunettes‘ side. They know what they’re doing: their tunes go right up to the edge of lethally sweet but don’t cross the line. I would say they’re saccharine, but the Brunettes come from New Zealand, and that’s just how Kiwi pop bands roll—with perfect, triumphant hooks doused in fuzz and some honey-voiced woman working over the bones of 60s pop sha-la-la. The Brunettes’ music is cute, but it doesn’t sound like that’s all they’re aiming for—it’s not cloying. What you get are big Technicolor bursts of happy, perky electro-pop laid out on a garage-rock template, which also shows itself in the sly undercurrent of horny-teenager vibes beneath the thunderous hand claps (see also Belle & Sebastian). Throw Me the Statue headlines; the Brunettes and Nurses open. 9:30 PM, Subterranean, 2011 W. North, 773-278-6600 or 866-468-3401, $12, 17+. —Jessica Hopper
