Andre Torrez

Mom was a mess (and then she rubbed all up on me)

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Going in to Thee Parkside on Fri/5, I didn’t know what to expect from the show’s openers. Considering Mom’s antics, it’s probably best that I didn’t do any pre-show research. In a nutshell, Mom was a mess. Read more »

(Lack of) grace at EpiscoDisco

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It was bound to happen. Some girl in a white coat tagged Grace Cathedral. Read more »

Komeback Kink

Do you remember the Village Green Preservation Society?
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arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC MLK's and Bobby Kennedy's assassinations, shaken confidence in Vietnam after a bloody and vengeful Tet Offensive, Haight-Ashbury's rapid dissolving into a breeding ground for lost and burned-out hippies pathetically clinging to the idyllic notion of a "Summer of Love," and a free Charles Manson settling in Laurel Canyon to plot the perverse and gruesome murders his "family" would soon commit. Yes, 1968 was the year the darkness had arrived. Read more »

Davila 666, Mannequin Men, NoBunny, Bridez

The walls of Thee (tiny) Parkside to be filled with rawk
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PREVIEW Working its way through the ranks of punk rock's prestigious pantheon, Puerto Rico's Davila 666 is held in the same regard as King Khan and Black Lips, even sounding kinda Ramones-ish at times. Its debut self-titled release is on the label that can do no wrong, In the Red. Expect an onslaught of guitar fuzz, jangle, and theatrics, sung entirely en Español!

Co-headlining for the night is the Midwest's own Mannequin Men. Read more »

Split decisions

BAY WRESTLING: Pro wrestling's many rounds of -- and rows between -- family values and sex and violence
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Sexo y Violencia. It's a fitting tag for the L.A.-born spectacle known as Lucha VaVoom. Read more »

Citric acid rock

No Edsels in Ty Segall's garage — if life gives you Lemons, turn up the volume
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a&eletters@sfbg.com

MISSION CREEK There he was, all cherubic, eating a "beej" — the nickname I've affectionately given the burgers at BJ, a.k.a. Read more »

Michael Jackson, 1958-2009

A special remembrance from and for the heart of a soul lover
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It was a strange day. It didn't start normally, nor did it end that way. It began with a disturbing run-in with one of my roommates. I was getting ready to work at 6 a.m., while he was trying to hook up after pulling an all-nighter. After that awkward encounter, I made my way into work with an uneasy, ill feeling. It was inexplicable. My sour mood took twists and turns and like the onset of what I imagine feels like a nervous breakdown. Something was wrong. Everyone knows peripheral, typical job frustrations, but I had a scowl on my face for my entire shift. Read more »

Shannon and the Clams

A peroxide-haired, punk-rock pin-up who gets real mean on her Danelectro bass
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PREVIEW Enough about Thee Oh Sees already. Let's talk about Shannon and the Clams. John Dwyer's new outfit is great and all, but Shannon is bodacious. She's a peroxide-haired, punk-rock pin-up who gets real mean on her Danelectro bass.

I caught the classic beauty out and about last week with an unmasked Nobunny. They were catching a glimpse of those pretty Black Lips performing at the Great American Music Hall. A few months earlier, I saw Shannon and her Clams doin' their thing for the hometown crowd at Oakland's Stork Club. Read more »

Booker T. and Bettye LaVette

A soulful one-two punch
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PREVIEW In the 1960s Booker T. and the MG's served as Stax/Volt's house band, much like the Funk Brothers were for Motown. Playing alongside Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, and the Staple Singers, among others, they beat Love and also Sly and the Family Stone to the racially-integrated rock-band punch. It was 1962's "Green Onions" on the Memphis-based soul label that put them on the map. The song's recent omnipresence at sporting events has given it a bit of a "jock jam" tag, but it isn't tarnished completely.

Today Booker T. Read more »

A six-pack of rock picks

Thee Oh Sees, Dark Dark Dark, Ezee Tiger, and more this week
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THEE OH SEES AND EAT SKULL

Fuzz is the new black — at least according to the gospel preached by Thee Oh Sees and Eat Skull. The two West Coast combos will take the beer- and noise-soaked pulpit at the Eagle Tavern to bang out hazy sermons of garage wit and wisdom. (L.C. Mason)

With Grant Hart and the Fresh and Onlys. Thurs/26, 9 p.m., $5. Eagle Tavern, 398 12th St., SF. (415) 626-0880. www.sfeagle.com

DARK DARK DARKRead more »