Sexy Beasts

I was inexplicably frustrated this morning, so after cranking out some copy, I plugged my head into my iPod, turned up the Replacements and walked down to drink my lunch (medium latte with skim and a Walker Red, neat) at JP Winebar and Coffeehouse. It turns out that a barista there has a sister in a newly relocated local band called — I love this name — Mythical Beast. After forming in New Orleans and moving to Austin after that bitch Katrina hit, the Beast decided to head north to our fair city. I just dialed in the Myspace, so I have no judgments yet, but know that they’re playing October 13 at the Pistol. Let’s go out and give them a warm Midwestern welcome, involving lots of shots and maybe a little pat on the hiney.

I’m moving to a new apartment this weekend, so I may not be going out much, but if I do, I may try to stop by one or two of the following hoedowns — that is, if I decide not to hit anything we’ve already written about.

TONITE

The Afterparty, Cat Scientist and It’s Over at the Brick

I would go to this show just to pick up a copy the Afterparty’s new album, which I’ve heard is great. If I didn’t already have their previous one, I would get that, too, because I know it’s great. Follow by example, children. It’s Over has one of the greatest oom-pah-pop tunes about a serial killer ever with “My Dear Wife.” Cat Scientist is from Austin; they were here in August.

SATURDAY

Red Elvises at the Grand Emporium

I’ve never had a chance to see these purveyors of kickass rokenrol. Killer guitarist Zhenya Rock (that’s his legal last name) has a solo project called Zeerok out on local label Minnow Records. Too bad he lives in Austin — I bet he’s fun to hang out with. I’ve rolled with four or five former Soviets in my life, and they’ve all been hilarious. The latest was Aidas Bareikis, who made himself sick smoking pencil graphite to get out of the Russian Army and slept in a tree in Central Park. Read about all that here.

SUNDAY

The Dark Circles and the Golden-Hearted Whores at P. Ott’s on the Plaza

This is like Interpol sharing a bill with T. Rex. It’s only two dollars to get in, but be warned: 1. You will fall in love with the bartender, Marcy. (2) Those enormous, $4 (or is it $5?) beers will fuck you up.

That’s all — except that there’s a guy who works at the Folly Theater named Steve Irwin. I bet his life must be hell right now.

Be careful out there, vatos. Don’t drive drunk, and don’t shag the hired help.