Sound Menu March 06 2002 Mon

BEATLEJAM — The Machine, keyboardist Vince Welnick and Blue Floyd do what the show’s title promises. Far more innovative than just aping the Fab Four, these inventive musicians take the music down a long and winding road. Obviously not for purists, those who’ve seen them de/re-construct Pink Floyd, know they’re the real deal. Variety Playhouse (Horowitz)

CREAM ABDUL BABAR — The name alone should tell you that these Floridians are a few corpses short of a scandal. For starters, they’ve got a trombone that sweeps over the audience like a slingblade, adding immeasurable depth to their metallic hardcore broil. Those with a small tolerance for relentless shouting might pine to stuff a sock into the lead vocalist. But fear not, these headcases have several tricks up their sleeves. MJQ Concourse (Foy)

THE DRAGONS, DEMONS — The names say it all. Unadulterated, ass-kicking rock by bands named after evil mythical beasts — how much more simple can it get? The Dragons, featuring Alejandro Escovedo’s little brother, crank out fast, straight-ahead rock that never goes more than 20 seconds without a pick slide. Ditto Sweden’s Demons. No irony, no nostalgia, just blind rock — crunchy and gritty like gravel snack mix. Echo Lounge (Hutchinson)

STARSAILOR — An over-emoting limey in the epic tradition of Placebo and The London Suede (minus the glam), Starsailor’s James Walsh has little regard for restraint — especially when embellishing the wrenching emotional fatigue and sweeping Brit-pop languor of the band’s self-titled debut. Lyrics like “I need to be alone while I suffer” drive home the point. And their reluctance to chase down the bitterness with sugary melodies and soaring choruses (á la Travis) means America is unlikely to be friendly port. Cotton Club (Rowland)

YAYHOOS, YOUNG ANTIQUES, OLD NO 8. — Recalling those bygone days when the Stones and Faces had fun on stage playing shambling, boozy rock with reckless abandon, the Dan Baird-led Yayhoos add a Southern/C&W slant to their whiskey-laced mayhem. The Young Antiques’ Brit-influenced power-pop doesn’t fit this bill as well as the openers’ brash country-rocking. Smith’s Olde Bar (Horowitz)