Glass Candy; A.R.E. Weapons
The two buzzed-about shabby-chic bands hitting Rubber Gloves this week--Portland's Glass Candy, who sometimes go by the cooler-sounding Glass Candy and the Shattered Theatre, on Saturday; and New York's A.R.E. Weapons, who should sometimes go by the more accurate A.R.E. You Serious?, on Tuesday--would lose to the Dixie Chicks by a designer-country mile in a match-up of rebellious attitudes that didn't award points for ripped denim and complicated haircuts. (Actually, the Chicks'd probably clean up there, too.) But if you don't mind punk-as-a-fashion, the Candies and the Weapons can deliver some mild fun worth having on nights the Chicks aren't in town. On Love Love Love, Glass Candy's new Troubleman Unlimited album, singer Ida No wonders if Debbie Harry (or at least Karen O) ever got a hankering for twitchy post-punk free of pesky hooks and choruses you can hum along to, and her bandmates play their instruments as if they were actually made of glass candy; I haven't heard this much self-satisfied treble in a while. A.R.E. Weapons offers baser pleasures (get it?): The trio's self-titled Rough Trade disc, which follows a couple of singles chumps on eBay might pay a lot for, dumbs down Andrew W.K.'s synth-heavy party-metal for big-city hipsters bummed that W.K. played Ozzfest and the Warped Tour; it's intermittently enjoyable in the same way a large rock rolling down a steep hill is, but it's also poisoned by the sense that these guys are majorly slumming it for cheap laughs. My angst is not to be made light of!
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