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THEE MORE SHALLOWS Sometimes there’s more to a band’s breakthrough than buzz and bucks. On their last full-length, More Deep Cuts, this San Francisco art-pop three-piece sounded tense and hopped-up enough to be every so slightly vibrating, like they’d snorted No-Doz hoping to finish a term paper but ended up quietly scrawling disturbing notes in the margins of their textbooks. With their new third album, Book of Bad Breaks (Anticon), the tension finally gives way, and it turns out that what lies beyond isn’t violence–it’s bubble-blowing, giggling delirium. Though Book is a much noisier and darker-toned album, it still feels happier and more relaxed, as though the band knows the bleeps and buzzes in its impeccably produced tunes don’t all go together, technically, but no longer cares who notices. The Diminisher and We Will Eat Rats to Survive open. a 10 PM, Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western, 773-276-3600 or 866-468-3401, $8. –Monica Kendrick
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cROBBIE FULKS Few musicians can match Robbie Fulks’s command of pop and country idioms, and practically none works so hard to subvert their conventions. On his new double live CD, Revenge! (Yep Roc)–one disc is with his electric band, the other is mostly stripped-down acoustic stuff–his often inscrutable blend of sincerity and mockery feels like a coping strategy: Fulks clearly loves the enduring tropes of classic songcraft, but the repetition and sentimentality that typically accompany them seem to drive him nuts. His killer solo cover of the Cher hit “Believe” is simultaneously a searing critique of its inane lyrics (complete with a hilarious parody of that infamous vocal effect) and a showcase for its ridiculously catchy hooks. And then there’s his guitar playing: in the intro to “That’s a Good Enough Reason” he flits between hillbilly picking, Derek Bailey free improv, Django Reinhardt Gypsy jazz, John Fahey fingerstyle, and Nashville honky-tonk in the space of about a minute. With Fulks in our backyard it’s too easy to take him for granted; a record like this makes a great reminder. Kevin Gordon opens. a 9:30 PM, FitzGerald’s, 6615 Roosevelt, Berwyn, 708-788-2118 or 312-559-1212, $12. –Peter Margasak
cARCADE FIRE, ELECTRELANE See Friday for more on the Arcade Fire; see Tuesday for more on Electrelane. a 7:30 PM, Chicago Theatre, 175 N. State, 312-462-6363 or 312-902-1500, sold out. A
celectrelane On their first three albums, this English quartet made a virtue of creative sprawl, but as impressed as I was by their experiments with texture and rhythm on 2005’s Axes, I’m glad they’ve taken a more focused approach on the new No Shouts, No Calls (Too Pure). On Axes they sometimes sounded like they’d bitten off more than they could chew; here each member sticks to what she does best, and it gives the trance-inducing pop tunes a new directness and clarity. Drummer Emma Gaze takes what’s essentially a single post-Motorik groove and tweaks it into 11 minor variations. Guitarists Verity Susman and Mia Clarke reduce the minimalist strum frenzies of the Velvet Underground and the Feelies even further, transforming scrappy little departures and choppy transitions into songs, and bassist Ros Murray quietly holds it all together. Susman sings her pretty melodies much the same way she plays–a bit sheepishly and anemically–but her style suits the pared-down songs perfectly. Sterling opens. Electrelane also opens for the Arcade Fire at the Chicago Theatre on Saturday and Sunday; see separate Treatment items for details. a 10 PM, Empty Bottle, 1035 N. Western, 773-276-3600 or 866-468-3401, $12. –Peter Margasak
cTRIO BALKAN STRINGS This Belgrade-based family act operates under an ambitious code of simplicity: Zoran Starcevic and his two sons, Nikola and Zeljko, seem to have made it their project to condense the entire Balkan musical tradition into a repertoire that can be played by six hands on three guitars. All classically trained and all exuding an audible affection for rock, blues, pop, and jazz–particularly the hot jazz of Reinhardt and Grappelli–the Starcevic boys take a microcosmic approach to their original compositions as well. Each track on their two self-released albums (the latest is Water-Mill) is airtight, with a lush and dazzling orchestral quality that belies its instrumentation. If you think you hear a scrap of Greekish melody or a Transylvanianesque trill, you’re probably right–countless such ideas get developed like patterns in a silk weave, followed to a satisfying resolution, and then left behind for the next odd rhythm or jaunty whirl. See also Tuesday. a 9 PM, Lakeshore Theater, 3175 N. Broadway, 773-276-3600 or 866-468-3401, $15. A –Monica Kendrick
