What would Kinky do?

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Every Monday, the Showdown tells you who to see and where to see ‘em.

Monday: It’s been two years since Philly natives, screamo kids Balboa have rocked their hometown. Give ‘em the warm Philadelphia welcome the Showdown knows you are capable of. With Rosetta and North, at the Khyber, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $8.

Tuesday: Why go to a show and listen to one genre when there are so many good ones out there? Especially when they all come from the greatest city in the world — yours. Part punk (the Do Its, Goodbye Etc.), part soul (Mister King), part funk (Color Karma), part jangly-droney indie (Even Man Out). Enjoy the smorgasbord. At the North Star Bar, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $5.

Wednesday: Liz Phair’s deep monotone was the quintessential female voice of the early-’90s. Too bad she sucked after popping out a puppy and deciding she would rather make money than have “blow job queen” etched onto her tombstone. No worries, though, ’cause tonight, she’ll only be rockin’ cuts from the seminal Exile in Guyville (attention young, angsty girls: go pick up your copy asap). At the TLA, doors at 7 p.m., tickets are $25.

Thursday: Hey, hey, it’s a Monkee! Although listings editor extraordinaire Monica Weymouth is a Davey girl at heart, she’s still got love for Peter Tork — one of two who could actually play an instrument AND didn’t come off as an asshole in the VH1 TV-movie (the Showdown is looking at you Mike Nesmiith. Wool cap and all). No shit, he ain’t bad. With Adam Marsland + His Chaos Band, at the North Star Bar, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $15.

Friday: It’s ladies night and the feeling’s right with Sugar Town. Lady DJ’s take to the decks, including Boston’s the Femme Show, who are known for their sexified visual performances of the queer female identity. Way more fun that its Gender Studies title. With DJ Kit, the Shondes and Liberty City Kings, at Tritone, doors at 9 p.m. tickets are $7.

Saturday: Celebrate the fact that you’re off work on Monday by working those dance moves with the oh-so-shakeable Violens. More complicated (and we mean that in a good way) than your average neo-New Wave. With Relay, Ape School and Pink Skull, at Johnny Brenda’s, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $10.

Sunday: The only Jew to run for governor of Texas, tour with Dylan and consider Willie Nelson a BFF. Kinky Friedman is a badass in the classic sense of the word brings his narrative (and often-times hilarious) country to Philly for the first time in eons. At the World Cafe Live, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $30.

Acting like a bunch of babies.

Parenting 101: The Musical, the new song-and-dance comedy playing at the Kimmel Center through Sept. 14, introduces itself as a “musical form of birth control.” Indeed, after sitting through the two-hour-and-20-minute show, I left wondering if I made the right decision to spawn. Skits on the teenage years — puberty, high school dating, driving lessons — made me wish there was a way to skip that inevitable period in my 3-year-old’s life.

Still, the play, created by Nancy and Susan Holson and Joey Falzone, was satirical and cathartic for parents, as evidenced by audience members doubling over in laughter. The four actors, with the help of wigs, clothes and attitudes, managed to cast a wide array of characters from toddlers to brides-to-be. Jeff Brooks was outstanding in his ability to transform from a rapping to a tap-dancing grandma in an ABBA-inspired piece called “Grandma Mia.” Brooks, with his muscular limbs, also made a hilarious cheerleader, resplendent in a bright red mini-skirt, his thighs as thick as tree trunks.

Some of the jokes were predictable, but a few skits were so outrageous and bold, you have to admire the writers for tackling the non-PC aspects of parenthood. You can’t blame parents if they want to skip the avant-garde, especially when their brains are fried from fatigue. If you’re in the mood for light-hearted comedy, Parenting 101 is fun for all.

Buy tickets here.

Excellent piece in the Detroit Free Press about the Detroit/Philadelphia bassist axis in advance of the Detroit International Jazz Festival where Philly bass man Christian McBride is artist-in-residence.

“It’s not an accident that almost all of my favorite bass players are from Detroit or Philadelphia,” says Christian McBride, the Philadelphia-born bassist who serves as artist-in-residence at the 29th annual Detroit International Jazz Festival, which begins Friday and runs through Labor Day. “You take away Paul Chambers, Ron Carter, Percy Heath, Jimmy Garrison, James Jamerson, Alphonso Johnson and the others and you’re left with a very short list.”

The article breaks down, with bonus streamig music, each city’s heavy hitters. Philly’s got an impressive bass resume — Heath, Garrison, Johnson, Stanley Clarke — but I’ve got to ask, where’s Hub?

The Episode 6 winning design

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… but only for Daniel.

On perhaps one of the best challenges Project Runway has ever aired, designers faced the biggest (and I mean biggest) models they’d ever have to style and Season 4’s Chris March came back to reveal their task at hand — designing for drag queens. All a little flabbergasted, some disgusted and others — mainly Terri — thrilled with this week’s challenge, they all dug deep and found their inner showgirl.

Keith’s toilet paper aesthetic is one I’ll never understand, and Joe agrees. The PR Papa started the show off with a sucker-punch to Keith’s design style. Regarding his win last week: “I don’t know … are the judges blind?” Ouch. But, the truth hurts and Keith faced said reality as he fell from number one to the bottom two because of his messy, ugly, uneven and unglammy design. Lucky for him, Daniel’s was worse. We FINALLY said farewell to the snot-nosed pretty boy whose delusions of design grandeur were making our tummies churn.

As for the reigning royalty, Korto’s fire-inspired, sequin, mini dress with tear-away crinoline skirt was more than hot, and Terri turned her queen into a Samauri Jane with a punk rock edge. Oh, and Terri was wrongfully deemed second best again. Joe took the win with his pink, all-over sequin, sailor-style, jump suit with a bulky-buckle belt, which guest judge RuPaul gushed over because it “hid the candy.”

And if I got nothing else out of this whopper of a runway show, I did finally learn that it is Blayne’s drag dress that covets the Tim Gunn title as “a pterodactyl out of a gay Jurassic Park.” All in all, this challenge was unexpected, fun and, most importantly, the designers delivered. It’s gonna be a wild ride next week, as unconventional materials are sure to stress creative engines.

A few things were different at the 47th annual Philadelphia Folk Festival. Victory Brewing Company’s hill top outpost was the most noticeable addition to the food and drink section. The craft area was beefed up with even more vendors selling everything from handmade dulcimers to explosively colored tie-dyed clothing. But change went beyond what you could buy.

Stephen Kellog and the Sixers and the Ryan Montbleau Band show the new side of folk music, and a different direction for the festival. Both bands, led by young singer-songwriters, gave the audience high energy performances of folk songs with a pop twist. The Ryan Montbleau Band especially did well in this department. I really enjoyed keyboardist Jason Cohen’s fluttering piano lines and fiery organ solos.

Ryan Montbleau

Photo | Ptah Gabrie

Ben Arnold sat behind a black grand piano. His unmistakable raspy vocals and bluesy pop tunes fit right in with the other afternoon performances. Arnold took up the acoustic guitar mid-set before closing out the rest on the grand. His piano playing and singing were right on, and made for a solid performance.

Ben Arnold

Photo | Ptah Gabrie

Friday night definitely belonged to ukulelemaster Jake Shimabukura. He stood alone with his ukulele on stage. And out came the most amazing playing of the festival. Shimabukura shredded through scales and arpeggios at speeds that would give Eddie Van Halen a run for his money. He closed with his signature and mind-blowing cover of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

Jake Shimabukura

Photo | Ptah Gabrie

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Bonus after the break: Triumph at the Michael Jackson trial.

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Office casual: Pete keeps it real.

I’m starting to wonder.

By episode four, season one, all the basic plot points that would provide the season’s arc — Rachel Menken, Pete vs. Don, Betty’s shaky hands, Peggy’s misadventures with the pill — had been set in motion. After episode four of season two, another dark and meandering affair like the episode preceding it, we are not quite there yet. Episode four gives us Don’s views on household management and corporal punishment, Peggy’s crush on a man of the cloth, Roger coming out of the old adulterer’s home to sleep with an expensive escort, more of Bobbie’s Lucretia Borgia-meets-Marlene Deitrich routine and a crushing moral lesson for Stirling-Cooper over the American Airlines account.

Of all of these, only the American Airlines plot seems to have any real juice. If you’ll remember back to episode two, Don (Jon Hamm) was vehemently opposed to SC dropping their existing client, Mohawk Airlines, to clear the decks for a pitch to AA. Don smelled the AA pitch for what it was — a long shot, undertaken in desperation by Duck (Mark Moses). Well, the chickens come home to roost in episode four — SC is thrown into overdrive to complete their pitch for the airline’s business on time.

The morning of the presentation, they find that Duck’s buddy at AA who promised them the account has been fired. Demoralization all around. Don goes home, smashes a plastic robot, gets a shove from Betty (January Jones), shoves back and reminisces about his long-dead, dirt farmin’, ass-whoopin’ dad. (Or rather, Dick Whitman’s dad. If you’re reading this and haven’t seen season one yet, it is going to take more than an internet episode recap to make this all make sense for you.)

Peggy (Elisabeth Moss) spends much of this week’s episode back in Brooklyn, avoiding her illegitimate kid and flirting with a visiting priest (Colin Hanks). This does not sit well with her older sister (Audrey Wasilewski), who alerts the Father to the existence of Peggy’s child through a crafty confession. More great pre-Vatican II moments in this episode, from the punishment doled out to adolescents who act up during mass, to the Palm Sunday household decorations.

Pete Campbell (Vincent Kartheiser) is all but MIA again this week. Although he does show up for an impromptu Sunday afternoon work meeting dressed in a tennis outfit I am not even going to try to describe.

Bobbie’s (Melinda McGraw) back. She has a really bad/good idea for a TV show for her insult comic husband Jimmie (Patrick Fischler) and needs Don to help her get some changes made to his Utz contract. She helps Don, right there in his office, with Joan (Christina Hendricks, temporarily Draper’s secretary), on the other side of the door but well within earshot. I think this is going to be an ongoing thing — blackmail?

Again, the aborted American Airlines pitch seems to be setting us up for some sort of multi-episode conflict. So far it was the season’s only big, complex morality play, with Don clearly coming out on top. Next episode: Don goes duck hunting?

 

Bonus after the break: Triumph with Ladysmith Black Mambazo

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All hail the King

springfield.com

Every Monday, the Showdown tells you who to see and where to see ‘em.

Monday: In Billy Shakes’ Titus Andronicus, the title character’s daughter gets raped and has her hands and tongue cut off so she can’t finger the perps — namely the sons of Goth Queen Bitch and Titus’ enemy, Tamora. After an interracial bastard son (scandal!) and lots more death, dismemberment and deception, Titus gets his revenge by killing Tamora’s sons and feeding them to her in a pie. No better name for a band who “communicates utter contempt with life/people while simultaneously loving and celebrating it/them through anthems.” With When Cars Ascend and Br’er, at the Barbary, doors at 6 p.m., tickets are $10.

Tuesday: Whoever said you can’t judge a book by its cover is stupid. Hoobastank? Terrible band name, terrible band. Steve E. Nix and the Cute Lepers? Awesome band name, tight little power pop/two-chord punk (Johnny Thunders + Cheap Trick = Cute Lepers) off Joan Jett’s Blackheart Records. With Avenue Rose and Power Chords, at the M Room, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $10.

Wednesday: Time to class it up with the Boston Pops Esplanade Orchestra. Tonight, they’re doing Bernstein up right with music from West Side Story, On the Waterfront and On the Town. At the Kimmel Center, show at 8 p.m., tickets are $39-85.

Thursday: Say it loud! There’s a reason he’s the Godfather. Still Black, Still Proud gives an African spin to the music of James Brown. Come for the King of Funk, stay for the likes of Pee Wee Ellis and Vieux Farka Toure. At the Kimmel Center, show at 7:30 p.m., tickets are $25.

Friday: Math rock is a terrible way to tag a band. What the hell does that even mean? Ok, we know what it means, but who wants to describe their favorite band as math rock? Instead, we hear at the Showdown would like to call Don Cabellero not math rock, simply rhythmically adept rock. Catchy, no? With An Albatross and Ponytail, at Johnny Brenda’s, doors at 10 p.m., tickets are $10.

 

Saturday: The Showdown isn’t advocating actor-to-musician crossovers. They are usually of ear-bleeding quality. But, while he may not have pipes that could’ve gotten him a record contract sans-movie stardom, Terrence Howard has got a nice, quiet husk to his voice. Backed by swelling strings or flamenco-y guitar and (thank the lord above) less auto-tune than most pop stars, this kid may have a future. At the TLA, doors at 8 p.m., tickets are $35.

Sunday: Celebrate the life of late local amp guru John Martin and get a bonanza of bands. In tribute to the guy who gave you a million wonderful-sounding concert experiences. We tip our hat. With Martone All Star Jam, Overdrive Datemaster, The Beloved Infidels, Harrison Webb Blues Thing,