FILTER Sure, they haven’t been relevant in years, but I still can’t bring myself to say anything bad about Filter. There was always this mix between the band’s semi-industrial chug and Richard Patrick’s hard-drinking howls that hooked me as a teenager. With the dominant rock radio model of that era being either lobotomized party jingles (Smash Mouth, Sugar Ray, the baffling swing dance revival) or misogynistic threat-songs (Limp Bizkit, Disturbed), what Filter brought to the table was consistently refreshing. The songs hit hard, yet mine human vulnerability for an essential angst quotient. As far as ’90s survivors go, one could do far worse. I won’t say the same for the headliner, though. With Fuel. $27. 8 p.m. The Fillmore.