scene&heard

In Tribute

Music, Joe Strummer once said, reminds you that it's fun to be alive. At their best, The Dead Milkmen were that kind of fun. And so, despite the sad occasion, Sunday's memorial concert for the band's late bass player Dave Blood (né Schulthise) was, by and large, a joyous affair. Opening with an appropriately ragged "Punk Rock Girl," the reconstituted Milkmen, abetted by Dan Stevens on bass, tore through 29 songs in an hour and a half, inching past the Troc's curfew and whipping the crowd into a frenzy which never really let up. "Dave Blood was the best bass player that ever lived!" singer Rodney Linderman (Rodney Anonymous) yelled shortly into the set's third song. But he waited until the ad hoc Milkmen were firmly established before opening the floodgates, replacing the traditional downashore intro to "Bitchin' Camaro" with a moving tribute to his late friend. "I thought, "Do I really want to eulogize a man I felt was a brother at the beginning of a novelty song?' And then I thought, "This is all we got.'"

But 10 years after their breakup, it's clear that novelty was only part of the Milkmen's appeal. By the looks of it, much of the crowd wasn't yet born when Big Lizard in My Backyard was released in 1985, but they shouted along to every song as if they'd been practicing all their lives. The people on stage, including perennial flag-flyers F.O.D. and Nixon's Head as well as a reunited Electric Love Muffin, were there to honor their friend, but those in the crowd who knew Schulthise only as Dave Blood were there for love of the music he helped create. Schulthise's brother Kurt recalled from the stage how Dave "played for the fans," while friend and executor Jennie Dunham looked out at the capacity crowd and said, "He would have talked to every one of you, even if it meant the event would have lasted a week." It didn't go that long, but 20 minutes after the last song, Linderman, Joe Genaro (Joe Jack Talcum) and Dean Sabatino (Dean Clean) were still signing autographs at the lip of the stage, giving their fans something to remember The Dead Milkmen—all of them—by.

--Sam Adams

The Dead Milkmen Nov. 21, The Trocadero

Shock Absorption

"If Jesus died for your sins, shouldn't we honor him by sinning more?" Onstage musings of that variety reaffirmed Marilyn Manson's place as the burr lodged beneath the moral majority's saddle. The "Against All Gods" tour was a strictly black tie-one-on affair of vice and debauchery, as the band delivered a 20-song set littered with references to chemical and religious intoxicants.

With each tour, Manson concerts become longer and more elaborate as the man who "wasn't born with enough middle fingers" draws from a treasure trove of props and set pieces. The already lanky provocateur stalked shakily across the stage on stilts for "Tourniquet," and addressed his congregation from a raised pulpit for the fist-pumping encore, "Antichrist Superstar." Manson got the biggest crowd response for covers of "Personal Jesus" and "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)." Such is the nature of his fame: Sometimes he has to crank out a radio-friendly cover of "Tainted Love" to finance edgier original material such as "The Nobodies" and the vaudevillian "Golden Age of Grotesque." Covers, originals and costume changes blended smoothly, and the show was recorded (partly by a headless boom mic operator) for a possible live release.

--Jesse Delaney

Marilyn Manson Nov. 21, Electric Factory

Glitter and Gold

You can't accuse Dolly Parton of not knowing her audience. "Hello, Philadelphia and surrounding areas!" she hailed the Spectrum crowd, tipping her wig to Penntucky in all its swing-state polarity. But if there's anyone who knows how to heal a deep divide, it's Parton, who's built a career on defying categorization. Promising "something for everyone," Parton skipped from pop hits to bluegrass revivalism, striding the stage in a glittery bodysuit and taking turns at a half-dozen instruments as she sang. Despite the black curtains draping its upper tier, the Spectrum swallowed up some of the show, which deserved the electric response that only comes from a full house. But Parton and the Grascals, her 10-piece band, turned everything they touched to gold, from an exuberant "9 to 5" to a Norah Jones-ified "The Grass is Blue"; even John Lennon's "Imagine" came off more heartfelt than hokey. There was plenty of between-song shtick, cued by a TelePrompTer that was distractingly visible to anyone on the floor (at one point, it read, "Talk about God"). But by now, the shtick is part of who Parton is; it may be scripted, but it's real.

--Sam Adams

Dolly Parton, Nov. 18, Wachovia Spectrum

Don't Stop

Wreathed in cigarette smoke, Damon Gough entertained the crowd for close to three and a half hours, mixing the songs with stories and nonsensical mutterings. Though nobody seemed to mind the frequent smoking breaks/asides about meeting Bruce Springsteen and how Joe Strummer was a true gentleman, Gough admitted he was prone to "long, boring stories."

The evening was divided into two sets, with the first dedicated exclusively to the newest album, One Plus One Is One. The second half kicked off with "The Shining" and continued with songs from the entire Badly Drawn Boy catalog.

The band also made the occasional detour to the lighter side, covering brief sections of Madonna's "Like A Virgin" and Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." Gough kept the audience guessing and requesting for the whole second set. "I hate that song," Gough said when someone yelled for "Pissing in the Wind." "It's terrible." Despite the marathon they were being led on, the rapt audience was willing to let Gough call the shots.

--Lou Perseghin

Badly Drawn Boy, Nov. 25, The TLA