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Seems like it was only days ago that I posted the sometimes-usual, what-to-do-this-weekend stuff. What can I say, it's been a slow week. I haven't seen any sort of musical performance (not counting karaoke at DB Cooper's on Wednesday) since last Sunday, when Ghosty paid admirable tribute to Big Star. I feel so out of the loop. Don't ask me what's going on -- tell me what's going on. That's my new motto.

But if you got nothin', here are some shows I recommend, after you peruse the music section for our choicestest picks, of course.

FRIDAY & SATURDAY

We covered bits of the Sonic Spectrum Anniversary Party here and here, but here's a complete line-up of the all-star bangup weekend at the Record Bar.

Friday: State Bird, the Caves, Minus Story, the Starlight Mints
Saturday: Softee, Ghosty, the Pedaljets, American Catastrophe

JUST FRIDAY

Bacon Shoe returns, with its original Toine, to Mike's tonight for a sure-to-be-bacon-serving throwdown. Hopefully, the boys'll have copies of their new CD for sale. If not, demand they come equipped next time. Not many folks have heard it, but Back from Stinktion: Return of the Vaginosaur is the tits.

Now Hawkins, Miles of Wire, and the Capsules play tonight at the Brick, and I have never heard of any of those bands. I don't feel like this is entirely my fault. I bet at least one of them is good, maybe all three. Jessica Horn, the Smith Brothers and the Jerry Dowell Band play at Davey's, in reverse order from how I just listed them. According to Jerry, "We'll be answering the question: can there really be a country music scene in Kansas City?" If you go and find out the answer, let me know what it is, if you don't mind.

SATURDAY

The Afterparty, Crawling with Kings and OK Jones at the Hurricane. Country-juke-rock-funtime band the Afterparty and OK Jones (who sound like the Pernice Brothers with a dash of Field Music) are both in my top local 20, and I've heard good things about Crawling with Kings, so this just might be an excuse to go to the 'cane for a change. By the way, the Afterparty has some dandy pictures up on the band's MySpace blog that were taken when they crashed Willie's ranch outside Austin last month.

Also tonight, Pieta Brown and David Lindley strum their geetars at Knucklehead's.

SUNDAY

Hey, it's actually a good Sunday to see at show. At McCoy's: Be/Non and Lovers in Transit. At Fred P. Ott's on the Plaza: the Caves and Crawling with Kings (again); and at the Record Bar, a show for bright young pop fans, with Skybox, the Stock Market Crash and Five Star Crush.

Personally, this is more my speed right about now:

Whatever you decide to do, have fun and leave a big tip.

Just a quick note: the latest Wayward Podcast is up. It's only, like, 22 minutes long this time -- the length of my average first date.

Also, Jen Chen and I will be on 90.1 KKFI today from 12:30 pm, along with David Wayne Reed and "Anything Goes" host and Pitch restaurant critic Charles Ferruzza, imploring you to give that poor and wonderful community radio station some money.

Smartpunk.com is hosting an online contest to get bands onto its stage at the Warped Tour. A few local groups have registered and are asking fans for votes through May 15. Go here and pull up the menu to vote.

The KC bands in the running that I recognize: Dead Girls Ruin Everything, the Esoteric, Flee the Seen and Super Black Market.

The Esoteric wants to get Warped.

The winners get "one of three 5-day slots or one of four 2-day slots," which means they don't get to do the entire tour, though a five-day slot could be a lot of fun and quite possibly productive.

Oh, and be sure to vote for mayor today 'n shit.

A mere three hours after the Jayhawks' ignominious defeat to UCLA on Saturday, brand-new(ish) Lawrence band Fourth of July took the stage at the Record Bar. Lead singer, rhythm guitarist and main songwriter Brendan Hangauer was disappointed by the Hawks' loss and voiced his dismay at the beginning of the set, throwing in a few choice words. For an indie-rock troub, he's quite a fan of hometown hoops. He'd recently cut his long, shaggy locks down to a buzz, making him look like a self-flagellating ascetic, given the context.

Brendan Hangauer, resplendent in the hair he no longer has. (Photo: Jeffrey Isom)

But none of that despair cut through the Fourth's delightful set. The band consists of Hangauer up front; his brother Patrick on bass; his other brother, Kelly on keyboards, trumpet and tamborine; Steve Swyers on lead guitar; Brian Costello on drums; and Adrienne Verhoeven, solo artist, band member to Orenda Fink and ex-Anniversary member, on backup vox and tamborine. This shiny, unhappy, vagabond crew wasn't bristling with energy, but it didn't need to be, because the songs did most of the work. All the players had to do was hit the right notes.

For those of you who think "penultimate" means "more ultimate than ultimate," it actually means "second to last," and this is the second-to-last weekend of the horrible month of March, so let's celebrate its imminent demise by going out to some local shows.

First, read the music section. See anything good? Maybe? There's also...

FRIDAY

The Rich Boys, Super Black Market and the Architects at the Record Bar.
This is probably the happening show tonight, and that's OK, because all these bands kick ass. Bonus points to the Architects' drummer Adam Phillips for saying the phrase "drive over this boner" at SXSW. Peter Venkman would've been proud.

Alice and the Waiting List are at the Brick. Anvil Chorus, The Belated, Sleeping with the Aviary and Five Defy are at the Hurricane, and that's too many bands for one night, wtf!?, but it's one of Anvil Chorus's last shows. And over at Davey's, there's some crazyass Goth industrial dance throwdownness.

And if I lived in Lawrence, I'd go check out >Arthur Dodge or OK Jones. The new albums from both are really good.

But you wanna know what I'm doing tonight, KC? We-heh-heh-ell, I'm going to see the DJ team Tactic knock the beat on its ear at Jilly's. Come buy me a drink (if you're not weird or dangerous).

Little Brazil, with Radiant. Thursday, March 22, at the Record Bar.
Review by Crystal K. Wiebe

My best friend lives in Omaha and has a history of dating indie rock boys even though she thinks indie rock boys can't sing (or try to sound bad on purpose). I guess she hasn't been hanging out at Little Brazil shows over the years. That Omaha-based band's singer, Landon Hedges, has a sweet voice.

Little Brazil played way too late at the Record Bar last night. I stuck it out, though, in spite of my inflamed sinuses. I've been meaning to see Little Brazil since about 2003, when we became MySpace friends. But I guess like 99 percent of Nebraska hipsters, I was too focused on seeing Saddle Creek bands.

In the latest issue of modern-rock glossy The Alternative Press, three hometown bands were written up in the Top 100 Bands You Need to Know in '07 piece. (You can't tell from the site; I saw it in the magazine itself while waiting for my flight out of Austin.)

Congrats to the following:

Ad Astra Per Aspera

The Life and Times

and, bustin' out across a full page in the rag...

Blackpool Lights

Tonight, Philadelphia hip-hop band the Roots is playing at VooDoo Lounge at Harrah's. I really, really wanted to get a preview in print, but it just wasn't in the cards. Instead, I give you a great write-up by the music editor at sister paper the Dallas Observer.

And the YT of my favorite Roots song:

I love that mumbled bit Black Thought does in the chorus. Wikipedia says:

The mumbling for the chorus in "Don't Say Nuthin" is said to say this, "When the saint on the ground with his nine on the line, with the niggas who grind with King Kong hittin' Thai-land. Give it here, and don't say nuthin', just give it here, give it here and don't say nuthin'... When the team on the set when the guns gone clap, gettin' down on everything,mmm, cut the check. Give it here, give it here and don't say nuthin',."

Damn, now I want to go to this show.

Not that there was a "mystery," per se, but no sooner had I posted the last entry than Megan Metzger walked into my office. I told her the news of Anvil Chorus becoming MJ & the Bear, and she identified the source of the new band's name. Behold!

Megan took this picture of a bear, Dave Gaume and MJ with her camera phone, on the way to SXSW last year. Ha! No fun for you and your esoteric name no more, MJ & the Bear!

Ever the source of pop culture trivia, Megan also pointed out that there was a cop show involving a crime-solving monkey called BJ and the Bear.

Wow, I can't believe that actually existed.

The band, or, more likely, singer/keyboardist Anna Cole, posted this MySpace bulletin this morning:

Hi All-

Anvil Chorus will be no more very soon. While this news could be taken as sad news...do not fret...it was just time for this to happen and actually, I am quite excited. We are playing this Friday at The Hurricane with David Gaume on bass...then we will finish out our shows on the 30th, the 11th and the 13th with Jenny Carr on bass. Be sure to come and wish us well.

Speaking of Jenny Carr...

TV On the Radio. Saturday, March 17, at VooDoo Lounge
Review by Megan Metzger

This year, I decided to forgo getting up at the buttcrack o' dawn to partake in St. Pat's Day revelry and pretended like it was any other day, mostly because I was saving myself for that night's festivites: TV on the Radio at the VooDoo Lounge in Harrah's Casino.

I'd never been to the VooDoo. I've just seen it on television during late-night runs of Harrah's American Idol-like karaoke throwdown, Lucky Break. The venue's a great size, with a floor surrounded on either side by a long bar and little tables. Flat-screen TVs hover above each bar, advertising crab legs and Toby Keith's I Heart This Bar and Grill. Overlooking the floor is a balcony with plush chairs and couches, so one could watch the rock in comfort.

We arrived early and bellied up to the bar, where the male 'tenders were engaging in a little cocktail bottle tossin'.

"Oh yeah, they do flair bartending here," my friend Dave said.

Awesome.

I ordered a Red Bull and vodka, which unbeknownst to me, was not how that drink is ordered.

"How 'bout I make you a vodka and Red Bull?" the bartender snapped as he flung a bottle of Jack Daniels in air. He didn't catch it.

Whatever, butterfingers.

We settled on a spot to catch the opener, California hip-hoppers Subtle.

Also known as one-half of 13 & God, a collaboration with German electric indie-rockers the Notwist, Subtle used drums, electric cello, keys, an MPC, and a guy alternating between sax and cornet to create eclectic, cerebral hip-hop. Subtle's MC Doseone, who looked like a member of the Revolution, entertained with a whip-smart flow, corny jokes and a love of props that rivaled Carrot Top. He even gave a shout out to Tech N9ne.

Subtle was an acquired taste, and I dug the fuck out of them.

After their 45 minutes were up, the floor started to fill in anticipation of the headliners. The hipsters you'd expect to see were in full force, as were many green-clad kids drinking Bud Lights and showing off their giant shamrock baubles. It was a surprising and sweet mix.

TV on the Radio began their 90 minute set with "The Wrong Way," the opening track off 2004's Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes.

Lead singer Tunde Adepimbe writhed and swayed as he sang TVotR's usually politically charged and dystopic lyrics, accompanied on vocals by guitarist Kyp Malone, who resembles an austere but absent-minded professor with his mammoth beard and tweed blazer.

The band continued to comb through Desperate Youth, as well as last year's Return to Cookie Mountain, including "Wolf Like Me," which has been receiving airplay on 96.5 the Buzz, which could explain why so many people came to the show.

TVotR's delivery was passionate and precise and held the crowd's attention captive right up until the closing number, "Staring at the Sun," Desperate Youth's standout track.

The show lasted about an hour-and-a-half, and it was refreshing to see such an uncompromising, original band play at a venue like the VooDoo. With the club opening its doors to local acts like the Roman Numerals and the Republic Tigers, and upcoming concerts from Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Kings of Leon and Jet, the VooDoo could fast become the best mid-sized venue in Kansas City.

We could do without the flair bartending, though.

I'm back home now, but my head's still in Austin. One of the coolest moments of the whole trip was seeing Ad Astra Per Aspera play the back patio of a divey Latino bar east of I-35, which forms a clear and definite boundary between commercially rich downtown Austin and the poor part of east Austin. So that's where the punks had their fun, naturally.

It was great to see a bunch of Lawrence people at the show, including KJHK music director Melissa Knudsen and asst director for the station, Derek Zarda, who at SX to attend panels on college radio and rep KJ. They were also handing out copies of a really good local compilation CD called Farm Fresh Sounds. You can download the whole damn thing on KJ's Web site: scroll to the bottom. (Or click here to begin the download.) Also in attendance was Kelly Corcoran, one of the owners of Love Garden. Verrr cool guy.

It was the most laid-back show I'd been to. After two nights and a day of partying with the crowds on 6th St, my run in with the relaxed, cheerful Lawrence kids was good for my soul. I shot some video of the Ad Astra performance and talked to the drummer, Kurt Lane, afterwards.

Gettin' multimedia on your ass after the jump.

Well, Kansas City, I hope you're enjoying your weekend. Holy fuck, it's St. Patrick's Day! I'd forgotten. You're probably already out drinking. Pace yourself. Westport revelers should head down to the big blowout at the Record Bar. If you like feel good soul music, get there around 3, for the Diplomats of Solid Sound — they got horns, keys, nice suits, and insanely beautiful female singers. The local U2 tribute band Rattle and Hum takes the stage at 8 p.m. It's the third time they've played the RB, and I've heard they sound remarkably like the real deal.

It's Saturday, about noon, and the "PVOUTDOORS" stage across the parking lot from my hotel has begun allowing bad alternative rock bands to torment everyone on the east side of the downtown Omni. "Let them eat cake!" I say, standing in the window wearing the complimentary bathrobe I found in the closet. I know I must be a freakish site to passers below, this bathrobe having been designed to be so ugly and ill-fitting that no guest would ever want to steal it.

Wait, what is this, a novel? No, this is your connection to SXSW, so I'll quit fucking around. Yesterday, because I started late, I only saw four bands, but I enjoyed them all: Ad Astra Per Aspera, the High Dials, the Hard Lessons">Hard Lessons and the River City Tanlines. I didn't push myself to see any big shows. By this time of the festival — actually, this began happening on Thursday — if you want to see a band with any modicum of popularity/buzz/hype/whatever, you gotta get there an hour or two early and wait in line, even if you have a badge. It's even hard to get food here, and half or more of the ranks of the service industry here is pissed off by the tourists.

So it was with great relish that I enjoyed the brilliant psychedelic pop band the High Dials from Montreal, in a well-air-conditioned, off-the-way club around 6 p.m. yesterday. The music isn't obscure or trendy or experimental, like you might expect from a Montreal band you've never heard of. It's just upbeat, pretty and comforting, with great hooks and sweet two-part harmonies between singer/guitarist Trevor Anderson and keyboardist Eric Dougherty. The club looked set up to be a sleek, fancy-cocktails, DJs and blow place, but I had no complaints about the band's sound. They nailed it, but no one was there to see it besides me and a few appreciative others. That is, except the kids from KC's Anvil Chorus, who I had bumped into outside and roped into coming to the show. It wasn't hard, actually, because they heard the band practicing out on some hippie ranch. They were all watching the Stooges' in-store at Waterloo records or something, which was probably great, but, ah well.

When I get back, I'll post some audio/video of Ad Astra and the Hard Lessons, who, by the way, are coming to the Brick on Tuesday, April 3 (you'll have to be there, because, man, they rock like a monkey). Now I must hang up my hideous robe, perform my ablutions and don the raiment of SXSW concertgoer. Unto the breach!

I might as well hang it up. Our Village Voice SXSW group blog rocks. It's on the Dallas Observer's site, here. I could contribute to it, but I'm having some computer woes. So, for now, I'm just going to throw some pictures atcha.

That redhead is Piney Gir. Her real name is Angela. She was born in KC, but she lives and makes quirky, country-tinged pop in the UK.

Locals the Hearers filled the Parish with dark, layered acoustical jams at the Anodyne Showcase.

After the Hearers, the Architects ripped the club in half. Really — I've seen a bunch of Architects shows, and today, they were ON.

I had to kill a bitch. No, actually, a bartender carting supplies to the bar spilled a bottle of Bloody Mary mix. It stank.

Anodyne's newest signee, the Meat Puppets, put on a reunion show to a packed, enthusiastic house. The place smelled like ketchup because of the incident mentioned above.

I waited in line for an hour to see awesome North Carolina rock band the Reigning Sound. It was totally worth it. After their set, they turned around and became the backup band for comeback sensation Mary Weiss, who, 40 years ago, was in the classic girl band the Shangri-Las. That one-two punch of the Reigning Sound and Mary Weiss (whose voice is downright soothing) was the best thing I've seen so far. It doesn't get much better than classic, soulful American rock 'n' roll from the South.

My pals Shannon and Matt of Drama Club Records had the in to a party hosted by (I think) Purevolume.com. The drinks were free and the people there were not too disgustingly hip. In fact, some of the kids, having been out all day in the sun, were, well, a bit disgusting.

South by Southwest is massive. It starts early with free day parties hosted by independent labels, magazines, publicity houses, blogs, brothels (not really, but should be) and the like. Music blasts out open windows and doorways and sounds from street corners all around 6th Street, just north of the Colorado River in downtown Austin. The streets are a pageantry of music industry scenesters and tourists and local buskers. Logos plaster everything.

But I don't have time to dissect the festival; I gotta be at a show in half an hour. I got into town around 5 p.m. yesterday and slid into the torrent of rock and roll and Lone Star beer, starting out at 9 at the Merge Records showcase at Antone's with Imperial Teen, a biggish-in-the-'90s alternative pop band from San Francisco. Sounded kinda like the Breeders, but with high male lead vocals. Factoid: The band was founded by former Faith No More keyboardist Roddy Bottum. Thanks, Allmusic.com.

I scampered across the festival area, intending to rendezvous with the boys from KC's Drama Club Records, who were at Stubb's to see hot British singer Lily Allen, but I ran into our pals Be/Non, partying with Megan Hamilton of OxBlood Records (also KC). The band was originally going to play the Anodyne Records (yep, local) showcase today. But within the past two weeks the band's relationship with Anodyne fell apart. They were down to play a different show today, but it too got canceled. Fortunately, they played a few cities on the way down, so the trip wasn't a total loss.

After a few drinks in back of the Jackelope, which was like KC headquarters last year — good burgers and a smoking patio — I parted company to go check out a Scottish band called The Twilight Sad, whom I'd heard online and really dug. When I told Be/Non guitarist Adam Stotts who I was going to see, he laughed in my face. Not because he thought the band was lame, or anything, it's just that when you're at an indie music festival and you say "I'm going to see a band called The Twilight Sad. They're from Scotland," it's so perfectly obscure that it sounds like you're making it up to be satirical.

Seriously, the Twilight Sad is from Scotland.

But this obscure track paid off because the Sad rocked. The singer has the thickest brogue since Malcolm Middleton of Arab Strap but twice the vocal power. Like a minstrel boy come back from war, he keens precise, cutting, sad lyrics while his bandmates (guitar, bass and drums) create tidal surges of noise. It's almost like the singer and the drummer are from some highland drum regiment — one sings the stories, the other bashes out a marching beat. Meanwhile the bass and guitar, laden to the hilt with effects, bash out undulating, dynamic and melodic sound.

PB&J at the other Zona Rosa.

When they were over, the line into Stubb's was a block long, so I beat a path southwest to La Zona Rosa for the Swedish pop buzz band Peter, Bjorn & John, authors of Writer's Block, one of my favorite albums of last year (it just came out in the states, but I got the import 'cause I'm a bitch). They've definitely caught on, because the place was packed full of non-hipsters, which is great, but some indie-rock fratboys deemed it appropriate and fun to yell out requests for the band's two popular songs ("Amsterdam," and "Young Folks"). It's like, Dude, you know they're gonna play 'em when they're good and ready -- shut the hell up. I don't know, maybe it's just a pet peeve of mine.

Anyway, the band was great: tight, powerful and majestic. "Majestic" could even describe the quality of their pop songwriting, which makes for great at-home listening and for a wildly dynamic live show. They're just so fuckin' good. And I have a feeling I'll be listening to them years down the road.

Got a full day today and gotta get started on it. Hold things down in KC for me.