Big Red Rooster, Psycho Blues, The Ropes, Braker Lane

Judging by the overproduced songs on their Cry to the Beat EP, New York's The Ropes play the kind of polished, electronica-tinged pop rock that 10 years ago would have had them written off as a Garbage clone. But Sharon Shy's strong songwriting may help them avoid becoming the next Republica. A song that starts with "You can all go fuck yourselves/You can all go burn in hell" ("I Don't Like to Get Dirty") certainly grabs my attention, at least, and gets even better as she claims "The only reason I haven't put myself in the ground already/Is I don't like to get dirty." It's the catchiest song about helpless depression I've heard in quite some time. They're scheduled to go on at 9 p.m. and are probably the only act worth catching in this schizophrenic lineup.

I have no idea, though, what they are imagined to have in common with local act Big Red Rooster, which has tried to buy street-cred for its generic rap-rock by hiring Slim Thug to spit a few bars on "How You Like That," then doing everything possible to obscure the fact that he's not in the band.

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