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CL previews upcoming concerts (Feb. 10-15) 


Furthur w/ Bob Weir, Phil Lesh It dawned on me recently that maybe The Grateful Dead experience (and/or that of any of their various offshoots) is akin to watching a sport like soccer or hockey. You can appreciate them in perfectly-portioned, as-product form on your television, but for maximum enjoyment (and understanding), you need to be there to experience everything firsthand: the sleight-of-hand, seat-of-the-pants improvisation; the interaction between players; and the interaction between the players and those who are there to watch them. Secondly, no, it's not The Dead. Or the Grateful Dead, for that matter. But you will see Bob Weir, who, along with Willie Nelson, is one of the two best running-shoe clad guitarists alive. And with Lesh manning his customary position – in the pocket, both musically and otherwise, right beside the drummer's bass drum – it's probably as close as you're going to get these days. In any event, I get the sense this isn't one of those shows folks are going to be on the fence about. Bojangles' Coliseum (Timothy C. Davis)

Them Crooked Vultures Let's keep this short and simple – Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age on guitar/vocals; Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters reliving his Nirvana days behind the drum kit; John Paul Jones thumping the bass. Power trio. Rock. Raw. No excuses. The Fillmore (Jeff Hahne)

Hamell on Trial Looking and acting something like the geeked-up twin brother of Anton LaVey, Hamell is a high-strung sort of guy, partial to a style of thrash-folk that most certainly won't be played at your local Starbucks anytime soon (see songs like "Ann Coulter's Snatch," which, it pains me to say – and I'm a card-carrying pinko – might be one of the single stupidest songs ever laid to paper). Dude sweats like a boar and puts on a hell of an energetic show, to be sure, but in a sort of watching-geriatrics-aerobicizing-in-Boca kind of way – much exertion, little grace. Which is a shame, really – he shows a bent toward lyrical substance and has passion to burn. Unfortunately, Hamell's seemingly content to keep lighting the musical equivalent of sparklers. The Evening Muse (Davis)

Midtown Dickens Last year's Lanterns won near-universal acclaim from the Triangle cognoscenti, and positioned the Durham quintet at the forefront of the next roots wave from that region. Recorded with local Scott Solter, the songs of Kym Register and Catherine Edgerton are paeans to the things we think we need but don't, and come in a warm, melancholic blend of punk-folk that recalls the gals in Freakwater – only with a less rigid style palette and (on the downside) slightly less narrative sophistication (so far). The future looks very bright, though, and they are worthy of the torch I apparently just handed them. Opening for Lost In the Trees, and with Dylan Gilbert. Snug Harbor (John Schacht)

Hypno5E Oddly named French metal band's taste for experimentation – ambient soundscapes, film noir soundtrack flourishes, industrial backdrops – is infused so intricately among the thrashing guitars that it's rather improper to call them a metal outfit. Building epic, multi-part compositions, the quartet seems bent on exploding old myths that the French simply can't rock. Hypno5E are intriguing, expansive and, well, know how to rock. With Starring Janet Leigh and Fallen Martyr. Milestone (Samir Shukla)


Galactic Eternally touring funk posse features legend Cyril Neville on this outing. On the road working their newly released disc, ya-ka-may, the combo is hellbent of taking classic New Orleans funk, jazz and brass traditions further into this young century. The new disc features Nawleans legends the Rebirth Brass Band, Irma Thomas, Big Chief Bo Dollis and Allen Toussaint as well as young talent, including the burgeoning "bounce" artists, helping further evolve the musical history of the Crescent City. Visulite Theatre (Shukla)


Andy the Doorbum Andy Fenstermaker celebrates five years of official Door Bum-dom this evening, and it is a deserving hallmark indeed. Last year's Art Is Shit blended ATD's briar-patch growl-and-holler into a hooch of illegal substance-fueled swamp rock and twisted hill-folk that careened between the profane and the holy, the deadly serious and the laugh-out-loud hilarious. Every time I play it I'm surprised anew, and when the 25th (!) track rolls around and the choir sweetly laments that "Rock 'n' Roll is dead," you certainly don't feel that way. Because in an era of post-everything hipster stances and multiculti plagiarism, Fenstermaker earns an accolade you just don't hear much anymore: He is an absolute original. With 25 Minutes to Go, Babyshaker and 2013 Wolves. Milestone (Schacht)

Holy Ghost Tent Revival Stomp your feet and grab a gal. Greensboro's HGTR fuse a rousing rootsy concoction that could be at home at hoedowns, gambling parlors, gin joints, or at revivals. Weaving jug band shenanigans, country, bluegrass, carnival jazz and assorted roots threads, the six-piece group stirs up an American music treat. It's laid-back and raucous, oft within the same song. With And the Moneynotes. The Evening Muse (Shukla)


Zac Fowler & The Essentials Looking for pre-Valentine's Day plans? Look no further; this edgy boy band is worth lending an ear to. Their alternative-rock/pop sound is strong with most ballads flirting with the subject of love. For all of you anti-romantics who are groaning at the thought of going to see a band singing about romance, rest at ease – their sound leans more toward that of Sublime and Widespread Panic than 'NSYNC and the New Kids on the Block. The Money, Rock Hill (Nicole Pietrantonio)


Brandi Carlile An indie-style alt-country singer, Carlile is only 28, but her vocals and songwriting are wise beyond their years. She's currently touring in support of her third studio album, Give Up the Ghost. With Amy Ray – half of the Indigo Girls – opening. McGlohon Theatre (Hahne)

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