Also this issue:

Ghost in the Machine
Japanese psychedelia invades brains, raises spirits.
-A.D. Amorosi

Family Fugue
Orchestra 2001 puts the Crumbs back together.
-Peter Burwasser

Originators of the Species
The progenitors of progressive house sprout legs, go on tour.
-Sean O’Neal

The Gig

Jon Langford
-Paul Burress

Jello Biafra
-Patrick Rapa

The Blind Boys of Alabama/ The Dirty Dozen Brass Band
-Sam Adams

The Chameleons
-Sam Adams

October 3- 9, 2002

musicpicks

Ryan Adams

Somewhere between Paul Simon's cranky "Kodachrome," the country twang of Elton John's Tumbleweed Connection and the plush pathos of Robyn Hitchcock (phew) is where you'll find the gruff, tonsily-tenor and achy-breaky paragraphing of Ryan Adams. Heralded as alt-songwriting's next melodic thing, he made heady, hurtful waves with his first post-Whiskeytown CD, Heartbreaker, in 2000. The next year on Gold, he revealed himself as a good, gravelly songwriter getting better and graver. With Demolition (Lost Highway) Adams proves he writes lots of songs really fast; five LPs worth -- solo and with his Blasters-like buds, the Pinkhearts. None of the songs on the rock tip are good. What Adams is best at is the mirthful, mournful mid-'60s prairie-Manhattan stuff: slow sardonic pretty country-pop ballads and mid-tempo page-turners that yearn as hard as would a Wichita lineman or a midnight cowboy crawling through the streets of Greenwich Village. Loosey-goosey true-gritty tunes like "Jesus (Don't Touch My Baby)" and "Starting to Hurt" radiate a blazing hot sun in the midnight hour; a sexy lonely vibe complete with beachy recollections and hurt hearts, that are wired and cinematic.

Sat., Oct. 5, 8 p.m., $29.50, Tower Theater, 69th and Ludlow sts., Upper Darby, 215-336-2000.

—A.D. Amorosi