4Play
By Don Allred
Benise
Wednesday @ the Palace Theatre
Miles Davis's "Sketches of Spain" proved revelatory to young American
ears, conjuring connections made with Eastern music via North African
Moors' conquest of the Iberian Peninsula. Nebraska kid Roni Benise
started his own global pop occupation of L.A. streets with performers
who sparked the genesis of his current stage saga, "The Spanish
Guitar." Singer-guitarist Benise travels through multi-media
evocations of Arabian deserts, ancient Indian Buddhist temples,
Havana's oldest streets, Brazil, Paris, Venice and (oh yeah) Spain.
Gorgeously versatile dancers best extend Benise's flamenco-centric
spin.
Bonded By Blood/Overkill/Gama Bomb/Forbidden
Wednesday @ Newport Music Hall
Having taken their name from an early 80s album by punk-influenced
thrash metal inspirations Exodus, BBB do their best to live up to
their chosen mission on "Exiled To Earth." Bobby Blitz's
indestructible wail heralds the no-frills thrills of Exodus peers
Overkill's 2010 "Ironbond." They're accompanied by sardonically
imaginative Irishmen Gama Bomb and even seldom-touring Forbidden,
whose "Omega Wave" queries whether Earth's final crisis isn't
culturally conditioned, self-fulfilling prophecy. Fortunately,
negative energy is still one rockin' resource
La Otracina
Thursday @ Carabar
Psychedelic power trio La Otracina believe in climate change. Drummer
Adam Kriney kicks off "Reality Has Got To Die " with the hearty cry,
"Hail fire!" It's the cue for us all to shed a little more skin, as
cold equations get fried and due processes get served another way of
rounding up usual and unusual suspects. Hungry young metal dinosaurs,
progressive cavemen, tasty classical comets, fluid druids and
jazz-rock schemes cruise boogie-blues convertible dreams through
wide-awake eyes and ears, on a star chart still being tattooed.
Adam Stephens/Felice Brothers
Friday @ The Rumba Cafe
Indie rockers Two Gallants' underdog persistence invigorates TG
co-leader Adam Stephens' solo album, "We Live On Cliffs." It's
elegantly distinctive, until soulfully bereft balladeer Stephens
starts illin' like a re-cycled Dylan. But compatibly with the real
Mr. D., Stephens can be cosmically/comically cranky and confessional ,
as his own muse steals him back for another last dance. The Felice
Brothers' streetwise Americana befits mountaineers who played the
subways in more ways than one. Check their self-titled debut and
"Yonder Is The Clock."
