I hadn't planned on going to tonight's Cursive show at The Waiting Room. Not because I didn't want to go, but because I didn't have a ticket. The gig sold out fairly quickly, which is understandable considering the room's capacity (225 or so). Then I got an e-mail from Greg Lofits of Malpais, who is opening the show tonight. A few weeks ago, Loftis had sent me a couple mp3s of tracks he and Denver Dalley (the other half of Malpais) had been working on -- very Simon and Garfunkel, very laid-back and cool, combining Denver's trippy guitar and synth sounds heard on Statistics recordings with Loftis' cooing voice. Loftis said he could put me on the guest list for tonight's show. That said, we're talking about the same Loftis I wrote about here. He could have been in Israel or Prague when he sent me that e-mail, so I won't be surprised if the door guy searches through the list tonight, than looks up at me and says, "No. There's no 'Tim McMahan' on here," which will result in me standing on the sidewalk outside of The Waiting Room, shaking my fist to the sky and yelling James T. Kirk-style (a la Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan) "LOFTIS!!!" while the camera pulls back, into the sky.

Seriously, though, if you have tickets, you're in for a great show. Cursive just got off a national tour opening for indie metal monsters Mastodon and Against Me, playing auditorium-size venues. Now they'll have to bring the sound down for a smaller room. It'll also be the first time for me to see/hear their new drummer. Also playing tonight, Chicago post-punkers The Narrator. Get there at 9, though, and check out Malpais' stage debut.

If my worst fears are realized, however, and I'm turned away at the door, I'll be strolling down to PS Collective, where The Protoculture will be playing their final show with Erica Hanton, who's moving to Portland with hubby Todd next month. This show should be rife with friends, family and students. Also playing, Outlaw Con Bandana. 8 p.m., no idea on the cover.

Of course, the other big show tonight is Propagandhi, w/Hiretsukan and GFK at Sokol Underground. Ironic, considering that Propagandhi has a similar following as Cursive. Too bad the two shows couldn't have been merged. $12, 9 p.m.

Also tonight in Benson, Bill Hoover plays at Mick's with Dylan May for a fundraiser for Liberty Elementary School. $5, 9 p.m.

* * *

Niz over at the OWH reported yesterday (here) that that this year's August concert in Memorial Park will be headlined by Plain White T's, a flavorless pop-punk band that would be hard-pressed to sell out Sokol let alone draw thousands to the park. I hope the $50k that's being spent for the concert isn't going to the band. Imagine who they could have gotten to play for that much money. Modest Mouse? Arcade Fire? Wilco? Call this one Fahey's Folly. Oh well, people will still show up as long as the weather's good.

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I've heard rumor of The Bruces' Alex McManus working on some new material. I'm not sure where it will be released, though. His former label, Misra, has him listed as an "Alumni" and not a member of the current roster. Misra released 2004's The Shining Path and 2002's The War of the Bruces. Sometime last year, Misra and Absolutely Kosher kinda/sorta merged, or as they put it "announced a strategic partnership under which the management of both record labels will come together under one roof." Was The Bruces a casualty of that merger? I'm not sure, but I'm guessing Alex is now looking for a label. Team Love, anyone? I'm assuming by the show listing on The Waiting Room page that Simon Joyner will be performing solo tonight, without his backing band, The Fallen Men. According to the Mal Madrigal site, Steve Bartolomei and Co. have "sequenced two full length records. Disc one is moody and dark. Disc 2 leans more toward classic songwriter music. We want to master and release vinyl. We could use some help, but we'll do it ourselves if we have to." Methinks you'll hear some of the material from those recordings performed live tonight, when all three singer/songwriters play at The Waiting Room. 9 p.m., $7.

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We made our way from 84th street -- the center of Papillion -- cutting east toward 72nd to the mall, my brother driving his Honda SUV with confidence. There was no traffic problems, though as we approached the shopping Valhalla I noticed a couple people walking down the highway median carrying lawn chairs -- this was a good mile away from the shopping center. Surely parking couldn't be that bad?

As we turned into the outer reaches of the lot I spied Chris Esterbrooks (Inktank Merch, Virgasound) walking from an adjacent lot and yelled, "Chris, where did you park?" He pointed to a structure west the mall. The angry-looking soccer mom walking behind him grimaced and yelled all cocky, "There was plenty of parking there a minute ago, but it's gone by now." My brother called "bullshit" to her and continued to drive right into the mall parking lot. Was he crazy? We start-stopped past Best Buy and Borders, Old Navy and the AT&T store, and sure enough found plenty of spots in front of Penney's. The B-52s are a big deal, but they're not that big of deal. As we walked through the lot, I noticed even more parking in front of Bed Bath and Beyond and the Old World Market. Take that, soccer mom!

We were late, but we didn't care. I like the old B-52s old stuff, but never really cared for the Cosmic Thing album that pushed them over the top. All I wanted was to hear "Rock Lobster," and didn't mind if I missed everything else. My brother had scouted out the mall a week earlier -- he lives in Papillion. He gave us a brief tour of the "main street" where fountains bubbled outside of Victoria's Secret, the buildings designed to look like a turn-of-the-century urban canyon, all the while housing swank new Ann Taylor Lofts and C.J. Banks clothiers. This was a shopping Nirvana for someone, a place where you could pick up a Yankee Candle, grab a copy of the new Michael Chabon book at Borders, and choke down a sandwich at Red Robin all in an afternoon.

We had no idea where the concert was being held -- the only music we heard was Shania being pumped out the green Bose ground speakers buried beneath colorful, tasteful bits of landscaping. Just as we turned a corner, we were hit by a wall of noise. There in the parking lot outside of Hy-Vee was the enormous stage surrounded by suburban white America. On that stage, the size of ants, were presumably The B-52s belting out another in a series of bland party songs that they've become known for.

We made our way through an army of strollers to the other side of the crowd, where the tops of vendor tents pushed through the T-shirted, flip-flop-wearing mob. I hadn't eaten all day and was dying for something/anything, settling for a pair of $5 Hy-Vee Bratwursts that tasted like the best Bratwursts I've ever eaten. From our vantage point a good 150 yards from the stage we were still way too far to be able to see anything other than Fred Schneider's gay head in front of the black backdrop. Still, even from all the way back there, the sound was painfully loud. Waves of shrill high-end rolled over the sea of 10,000 warm-blooded natural sound barriers who weren't so much pre-occupied with what was going on on stage as trying to find out where they could find the cheap, plastic First National Bank cushions that were being used as ad hoc flying discs. Schneider, realizing that whatever was flipping through the air in front of the stage was too puffy to be a Frisbee asked, "What are you throwing at each other? Toilet seats?" It was one of those kind of days, a huge family event designed to get mom and dad and baby out of the house at least for one evening to see an old band they remembered from their college days, back when they were still hip. It was kind of like a Memorial Park concert, except no one had spread blankets over the cold hard pavement.

The B-52s sounded as good as I ever heard them on record, ripping through old hits like "Roam" and "Love Shack." I've never seen them live, and can only imagine what they must have been like back in their Athens hey-day in the early '80s, playing clubs like the 40 Watt -- Athen's version of O'Leaver's. Now that sounds like fun. A lot more fun than seeing them rip through their AM radio hits while commenting, "Your new mall is so beautiful," and "Shop safe!" and "There must be a Papillion people out there!"

For some reason, they thought it would be a good idea to announce before every new song that they were going to play a new song. The comment resulted in a chorus of "uhhhs" from in the crowd. These families only wanting to hear "the good songs." (In fact, after they played "Love Shack" -- about three-quarters through their set -- a fleet of strollers headed back to their SUVS.) Well, if they liked Cosmic Thing, they didn't have anything to complain about. The B-52s new songs sounded like they were lifted right from that album. In fact, they're even more commercially focused then those old singles. You can't hear a song like "Let's Get This Party Started" with its roll-call of cities -- "Bostons! Houston! Omaha! LA!" -- and not think that these guys cashed in years ago. Their new music was created solely to generate marketing possibilities. These days it's not about writing a hit song, it's about having your song used to introduce a new line of Pontiacs or a new, improved brand of fabric softner -- a form of exploitation that bands like The B-52s do oh so well. Who knows how many Lincoln-Mercury-Plymouth dealers used "Roam" as the soundtrack to their TV ads boasting "0 Percent down, 0 Percent financing"?

After about an hour -- which I spent leaning against a light poll -- the band buttoned up their set, quickly coming back on stage for their encore, which included the song I came to hear. Yes, they may be commercial hacks. Yes, their '90s-era music may be cheesy and uninspired, but this band still has it. Schneider talk-sings as well as ever, and the Pierson/Wilson harmonies never sounded better. If ever a band needed someone like Rick Rubin to bring them back to their roots -- to the innovative party music heard on their debut -- it's The B-52s. Instead, they'll be content making a living opening shopping malls (I bet their guarantee was $100k) and playing 4th of July city park concerts, hoping against all hope that Madison Avenue can figure out a way to use their latest release in a toilet paper commercial. "Watch out for that piranha!"

* * *

After the 52's it was down to The Saddle Creek Bar for The Cripple Lilies, where I was surprised to find about 40 people on hand, a few who were there to actually see the band (and two people -- yes, two! -- who came on my recommendation). I felt like I disappointed them. The band struggled with the sound system for about 10 minutes before they played, complaining that they couldn't hear themselves, but eventually saying, "It's okay, we'll just sing louder." Instead of playing songs off their new CD, they played mostly older, alt-country rock-inspired material. They played only three songs off their new record during their brief, 30-minute set. Disappointing. I spent the rest of the evening talking to the band outside the venue, where frontman Chad Bishop explained that they couldn't play their "mellower" stuff because of the sound system and the feedback on stage, which I guess was only noticeable from the stage itself, because I couldn't hear it from the floor.

OK, here something that can only be called crazy fanaticism: The band's guitarist -- also from Pensacola -- apparently spent the afternoon walking around the neighborhood west of the SCB trying to find Happy Hollow Blvd. He's a huge Cursive fan and was dying to see the street that inspired their latest album. He's an even bigger Criteria fan. When I told him that Stephen Pedersen lived only a few blocks away, he practically swooned. He never found Happy Hollow, by the way, apparently giving up only a few blocks away from it. It gave me the idea of perhaps putting together a Star Map of Saddle Creek celebrity homes or buying a double-decker tour bus: "To my left, the home of The Finks -- Orenda and Todd. Darn, looks like they're not home, folks. Over here, the original home of Conor Oberst. No idea who the lucky indie kids are that live there now, but you just gotta believe they're soaking in the residual creativity… Next stop, ARC Studios and then onto the home of Beep Beep's Chris Hughes!" Imagine the ohs and ahs.

* * *

Interesting Bright Eyes news. Apparently Conor got some help on the opening gig of his seven sold-out nights at Town Hall in NYC. According to this New York Times review by rock critic legend Jon Pareles, joining him on stage was none other than Mr. New York Rocker himself, Lou Reed, who performed "Waiting for the Man" and "Dirty Blvd." backed by Conor and Co. Who will be their special guests for the rest of the shows? Paul Simon? Bowie? David Johanssen?

* * *

There's an interesting little show tonight at O'Leaver's: Washington D.C. indie band Deleted Scenes with Bear Country and Dance Me Pregnant. Not bad for a Monday night. $5, 9 p.m.

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Domestica have come into their own as the natural continuation of Mercy Rule, picking up right where that band left off earlier in the decade. They're now a tight, confident trio, a far cry from what I heard when they first played at The Brothers about a year ago. It's not like Heidi Ore and Jon Taylor aren't seasoned veterans already, but for this band, they've decided to play only new material, not stuff from the Mercy Rule catalog. Those new songs are beginning to stand on their own, similar to the old stuff but with a new spin, thanks partially to drummer Boz Hicks, who brings a different style to their music than Ron Albertson, partially because it reflects how they've grown over the past five or six years.

It's easy when writing about Domestica to simply compare them to Mercy Rule, as if everyone is already familiar with Flat Black Chronicles and Providence and God Protects Fools. Most people in The Waiting Room last night have never heard those albums. Why should they? They were released 8 or 9 years ago. Only the grizzled, seasoned Nebraska music followers remember that sound, and what would be the point of Heidi and Jon simply replicating it with a new band? There are common characteristics, however, that they can't and shouldn't escape, such as Heidi's thin, sweet, girl-next-door vocals that have a way of growling or fading with emotion. In stark contrast to Jon's white-knuckle post-punk guitar riffs, played on an ax slung practically to his knees. It is the epitome of loud-quiet-loud -- loud as in the guitar and bass, quiet as in Heidi's voice, loud as in the crashing, anthemic power ballads that they play. Domestica isn't so much a punk band as a power-rock band born out of acts like Superchunk and Husker Du, but with an even more-defined notion of melody, hooks and dynamics. Not so much a freight train as a rollercoaster ride. I hear that they're still talking about recording. They've tightened their set so much that they could probably lay down the tracks in a few days. They certainly have enough material for a full-length already.

Next up: These Are Powers. What do you call their style? New York post-punk noise dance music? The guy next to me called it artsy free-jazz Sonic Youth-inspired noodling with a touch of Yoko Ono. He also used the word "shitty," saying that he could climb up on stage and do a better job. I liked it, but I was also in the mood to hear loud, droning, shrill, siren noises that caustically repeated the same noise-phrase over and over for six, seven, eight minutes. During the second song, they stretched that to well over 10 in what was basically a throbbing duet between drummer Ted McGrath and frontwoman/guitarist/giantess Anna Barie while bassist Pat Noecker fiddled around with his bass and amp cables, feverishly trying to fix something wrong -- plugging and unplugging chords while a grip helped him move bass cabinets around the stage -- it was like a performance art piece. What held it together (for me, anyway) was McGrath's minimalist tribal drumming that was deceivingly intricate in its simplicity.

Finally, Head of Femur, who were originally supposed to play second but got moved to the headlining slot. I first saw these guys years ago as a trio, and that remains my favorite configuration. They've grown to five or six pieces, adding keyboards, and a violin, shifting their music to a style that -- at times -- leans dangerously close to jam-band fodder. They're a terrific, tight ensemble and are tough to pin down, varying their style not only from song to song, but within songs. The most common style comparison might be to Elvis Costello, thanks to some of the up-tempo keyboard-driven songs and Matt Focht's at times dead-on Costello vocals. Other times, however, they reminded me everything from The Allman Brothers to Phish. Quite a difference from the proggy style of their earlier years that recalled acts like Eno and Talking Heads, King Crimson and Flaming Lips. There's still some of that in there, though it seems they've smoothed out and popped-up their songs to something closer to mainstream rock. Still, a lot of fun.

Tonight at Saddle Creek Bar, The Cripple Lilies with Audrey and Barn Burning. $5, 9 p.m. or Young Galaxy at The Waiting Room with Landing on the Moon. $8, 9 p.m. And don't forget The B-52s in Papillion, if it doesn't get rained out. 7 p.m., free.

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The good news is that it was the best Protoculture set I've ever seen. The bad news is it's the last one I'll likely ever see.

Having seen them play mostly at places like O'Leaver's, it was nice to see The Protoculture sent off on The Waiting Room's superior sound system. For the first time drummer Koly Walters didn't sound like he was struggling to get his vocals heard, and as a result, he actually sounded like he was singing instead of screaming. Everything else was flawless, so much so that it was a shame they didn't get a board recording of the set for posterity's sake. That's gotta be the only reason they're releasing their new 8-song CD, which winged its way to my door via U.S. Postal yesterday. Impressive packaging (slim-pack, with nice art and black media). You can pick up your own copy via their Myspace page for $12 using PayPal. Look for copies at The Antiquarium, Homer's and Drastic, eventually. You'll be hearing songs (as we did last night) that were first played a decade ago, and still bear a style and structure that epitomize a golden era in Omaha's punk history but still stand on their own today thanks to their unique, arching sound. No one is doing anything as edgy as this anymore, and the 60 or so on hand last night knew it. They will be missed, but Clayton Petersen says he and Koly intend to somehow carry on without Erica. Stay tuned.

Anyway, if you missed them last night you can always catch them at their all-ages show at PS Collective next Thursday (May 31) with Outlaw Con Bandana. Kite Pilot will not be playing that show, so last night was really it for them. Again, not a bad way to go out -- on the best-sounding stage in Omaha. As one guy told me prior to their set, "It's a shame they're breaking up. I really started to like them after they became a three-piece." I think the best incarnation was the version heard on their debut EP, though their proto-punk dance routine last night was pretty catchy, especially when Erica switched from bass to electric guitar and began shredding, at one point blowing up the song altogether, forcing the band to start over at the second verse. A perfect sonic meltdown. Goodbye, Kite Pilot, and good luck.

* * *

Tonight it's back to The Waiting Room for These Are Powers, Head of Femur and Domestica. These Are Powers is former Lincolnite Pat Noecker's new band. Noecker was a member of seminal '90s band Opium Taylor. He went on to form Liars with Ron Albertson (ex-Mercy Rule), which released the critically hailed They Threw Us in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top on Gern Blandsten in 2001 before he and Ron left the band (why and how they left still remains told only in whispers). Pat and Ron went on to form N0 Things, who played at O'Leaver's in April 2006 (review here). Now comes These Are Powers, which, along with Noecker, features Anna Barie (ex-Knife Skills) and Ted McGrath. Their self-released 3-song 7-inch is in a similar vein as Noeker's last two bands -- dissonant, rhythmically throbbing, guttural, very much like that early Liars disc. Imagine air raid sirens blaring chaotically to a tribal beat. Interestingly, These Are Powers is headlining this show, with the much more locally known Head of Femur taking the second slot. According to The Reader, Femur has a new CD, and I'm sure we'll be hearing it tonight. Opening is Domestica, who have been playing quite a bit lately, more than I remember Mercy Rule ever playing. Word has it that Heidi broke her bass in a moment of rock theatrics during one recent show. Get there early. $8, 9 p.m.

What else is going on this weekend?

Well, tomorrow it's The Cripple Lilies at The Saddle Creek Bar. I'm certain that despite writing a column about this show that no one will be there, which means it'll be that much easier to get your drinks at the bar. $5, 9 p.m., w/Audrey and Barn Burning.

Also Saturday Night, Young Galaxy plays at The Waiting Room with Landing on the Moon. I'm listening to a copy of their self-titled Arts & Crafts release as I type this -- big, spacie, indie rock bordering on shoe-gazer. Guitar, bass, organ, drums, vocals, gorgeous stuff, lush and moody. $8, 9 p.m.

Also Saturday night at 7 p.m. is that free B-52s concert way out at Shadow Lake Towne Center, Nebraska Highway 370 and 72nd Street in Papillion. I just want to hear "Rock Lobster" once before I step into the new Bed, Bath and Beyond.

Finally, Little Brazil plays at Shag Sunday night with house band The Jazzwholes. Talk about your clash of styles. Wonder what those classy suburbanites who love the Jazzwholes will think of Landon and Co.'s white T-shirt-and-jeans punk? $5, 9:30 p.m. Hey you got Monday off. Why not?

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One problem with The Saddle Creek Bar is that they don't promote their shows very well. Last night they had one of the better local-band line-ups that I've seen in a while: Paper Owls, Lincoln's Floating Opera, Drakes Hotel all opening for out-of-town band The Daredevil Christopher Wright. I found out about the show at around 7 last night. I mentioned it to someone online who said he would have gone had he known about it ahead of time. Was it on the Saddle Creek Bar calendar? I don't know because their site's show list looks all jumbled on my PC, dates overlapping dates. I've become too dependent on the Slam Omaha calendar (where SCB shows aren't listed) and other online sources for show info (SCB isn't the only venue with this problem. These days I have no idea who's playing at The 49'r now that their site is gone and they don't update their MySpace page). I guess the rule of thumb is to start looking at those show posters whenever I'm in the clubs.

The band order according to the e-mail I received yesterday was supposed to be Paper Owls, Drakes Hotel, Floating Opera and the out of town band. The order last night was Drakes Hotel, Floating Opera, the out of town band and Paper Owls. As a result, I missed Drakes, saw Floating Opera and wasn't willing to hang around for the last two bands. Drakes and Floating Opera were who I really wanted to see, having just seen Paper Owls a few weeks ago. I guess one of out two ain't bad. At least I got home early.

Floating Opera was a curiosity. I've heard their recordings over the years but have never seen them play. Last night the band consisted of a bass, keyboards, guitar, violin and vocalist. No drums. Seems like they had drums on their records. In fact, I remember them being a little bit "rockier" than last night's set of lullabies, sweet tunes that relied on the frowning candy-voiced front-woman, hidden behind a music stand, to carry the day. All the musicians were talented, but the songs were just too saccharine-flavored, except for one number that kinda rocked in a Dixie Chicks sort of way, but still came off limp without drums -- the bass, electric guitar and keyboards doing their damdest to provide a backbone while the violin filled in with quick-fingered arpeggios. They seemed uninspired, maybe because they were playing to around 20 people.

* * *

I mentioned a few weeks go in this here blog how when I interviewed Conor Oberst in February the only local band he mentioned liking was Capgun Coup. Well, Oberst repeated himself yesterday in Rolling Stone online (here). Says Oberst: "There's a band from Omaha that's amazing called Cap Gun Coup, they're my favorite Omaha band right now. It's a full band, four or five people, and they made this great record - it's sort of all over the place, pretty weird indie rock." So how much is it worth to be name-checked in Stone by Oberst? Will Merge (or Sony) be calling them to set up a record deal? What about Team Love?

* * *

Tonight is the start of three big evenings at The Waiting Room when The Bad Canadians open for San Francisco's The Dodos, a guitar-and-drum combo that sounds like an indie band backed by an Indian tribe. Hey, Matt, hate to break it to you, but there's already a band called Bad Canadians on Myspace, and they're from Spain!

* * *

Tomorrow in Lazy-i, an interview with the lovely Cripple Lilies, who are playing at the Saddle Creek Bar Saturday (now that's how you promote a show)…

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A few headlines and other things from the 'net to contemplate on this lazy Tuesday:

-- I was surprised to see local indie dance-rock band Go! Motion has hired a publicist. The band is being represented by Planetary Group, which boasts offices in LA, Boston and New York, and a roster that includes Tuatara, Saturna, Traindodge, Roman Numerals and Jonny Polonsky. According to the Planetary site, Go! Motion is hitting the road at the end of this month for a national tour that winds up at The Lit Lounge in NYC June 29. Check out Go! Motion's Planetary profile page.

-- Almost every morning I get a review e-mailed to me of the previous night's Cursive concert, and just about every review is the same. The writer, who's probably a die-hard metal fan, talks about what an odd fit Cursive is on the bill and how the crowd suffered through their set while waiting to hear tourmates Against Me and Mastodon. For example: The Philadelphia Inquirer writes "Tim Kasher's heaving guitars and the band's throbbing rhythms started off strong and spiky, the melodies even touched with gospel's holy rolling. But Cursive got weak, lame even." Toronto's Chart Attack sez "The crowd responded warmly to the headliners, as expected, but even they seemed somewhat disappointed on the whole. With a bill this diverse and bands who are undeniably talented luminaries in their respective scenes, you'd expect fans to embrace each act with open arms. Instead, the opening bands were generally shunned and ignorant audience members went out of their way to ruin it for fans of those bands. " And TwinCities.com remarks "Mastodon didn't catch its stride until about 20 minutes into the set, when it unleashed a torrent of terror from its fantastic 2006 disc, Blood Mountain. Only then were memories of the previous bands swept aside, reminding the audience it had, indeed, paid for metal. " I don't know what motivated Cursive to take on this tour. Their love of Mastodon? An opportunity to grow their fan base? A hefty paycheck? Whatever it was, Kasher and Co. with a small brass section in tow still seems like an odd pairing with a grunt-metal band like Mastodon, but you never know…

-- Billboard is reporting (here) that Bright Eyes will be included in the soundtrack for the new Ethan Hawke-directed film "The Hottest State," along with Norah Jones, Cat Power, The Black Keys, Willie Nelson, M Ward, Feist and others. To my knowledge, this is the first time Bright Eyes has been included in a soundtrack, more evidence of the impact his new manager is having on his career and his exposure.

Tonight at The Waiting Room it's ambient indie rock band The Album Leaf with Lymbyc Systym. $10, 9 p.m.

--Got comments? Post 'em here.--

Earlier this week I received an e-mail from Todd Hanton, half of the husband-wife team -- along with Erica -- that make up Kite Pilot (and also along with drummer Jeremy Stanoschek). Todd wrote to say that KP will be opening for The Protoculture's CD release show at The Waiting Room May 24. What I didn't know was that KP also would be releasing a new CD -- an 8-song EP -- that same evening. Two tracks include former KP guitarist/vocalist Austin Britton, who moved to the West Coast a few months ago. But that wasn't even the big news.

"The reason for the rush on the EP is that Erica and I are moving to Portland, Oregon, early this summer," Hanton wrote. "We leave on a trip up there June12-20 to find housing, then come back, pack and move ASAP. We wanted to have closure on these songs before KP goes on an indefinite hiatus. May 24 may be our last show, but we may pick up a show on May 31 at the PS Collective with Protoculture and Outlaw Con Bandana (per the request of both those bands, who say they are fans of ours)."

My first response: Why Portland?

"We fell in love with Oregon on our honeymoon -- ocean, mountains, forests, desert, volcanoes. We love the outdoors," Todd replied. "I had been there on vacation as a child, and it always has kind of stuck in my mind as a magical place. Erica started talking about moving up there over a year ago and we just got serious about it this spring. We decided on Portland because it has the most opportunities and many more like-minded people. Pretty liberal out there. I have been in Nebraska for 20 years and Erica has been here her whole life. We don't want to have any regrets, so we are going to try it out for a year and see if it suits us. If not, there is always Nebraska and we get to have a year-long adventure."

So Omaha loses two more talented youths to "the outside world." Add them to the recent list that includes Tim Kasher, Matt Maginn, Jeff Heater and so on. KP had just reinvented its sound after the loss of Austin. Their new direction is/was punkier, more stripped-down and straight-forward, and more dance-oriented. Quite a departure from the almost prog-rock approach on their last full-length.

Though the move could mark an end for Kite Pilot, you probably haven't heard the last of The Hantons. "I would not doubt that Erica and I will start a new project/band in the near future to tide us over until we can start up Kite Pilot again," Todd said.

I bring all this up now because Kite Pilot just got added to a show this Saturday night at The Saddle Creek bar with Spring Gun and Lincoln's Sit in Wait. It's part of another crowded weekend of shows. Here's the usual rundown.

• Expect a nose-bleeding, ear-ringing chaotic eruption of noise at The Waiting Room tonight with headliners Back When along with Paria, Truth in Ruin and the always mind-blowing Fathr^. Collaborating as part of Fathr^ this evening will be Jamie Montes (Flamboyant Gods). No idea if they'll be running any of their freaky A/V. $7, 9 p.m.
• Meanwhile, just down the street at PS Collective it's Derek Presnall's Flowers Forever with Capgun Coup and Cherry Papers, which is described as "Joe Knapp's new hot ass motherf***ing project" on the Flowers Forever myspace page. Seeing as I'm the unofficial president of the Joe Knapp/Son, Ambulance Music Appreciation Fan Club, I find this to be very exciting news. Last time I talked to Joe -- probably a year ago? -- he told me he was hanging it up for awhile to focus on being a father. Looks like he's come to some sort of a balance, and we're all the benefactors of it. 9 p.m. FREE.
• I assume everyone who was at last night's Brimstone show will be down at Sokol Underground tonight for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. With The Cobbs & Eastern Conference Champions, $15, 9 p.m.
• Also tonight, in Benson at Mick's, five acoustic singer-songwriters: Midwest Dilemma, Inaiah Lujan, Kyle Harvey, Brad Hoshaw, It's True. $5, 9 p.m.
• Tomorrow night (Saturday), the aforementioned Kite Pilot / Spring Gun / Sit in Wait show at Saddle Creek Bar. $5, 9 p.m.
• Down at Sokol it's Animal Collective with Sir Richard Bishop. AC is considered one of leaders of the current "Freak Folk" movement. Freak Folk, in this case, means acoustic indie jams that sound like they were influenced by early Yoko Ono albums. In other words, it's experimental. $12 ADV/$14 DOS, 9 p.m.
• And then, Sunday, the long-awaited return of The Hold Steady at Sokol Underground. The last time these guys came through Omaha -- years and years ago -- no one showed up. This time it'll be a sell out (or a near sell-out). In fact, I'm surprised tickets are still available. People 'round these parts love these guys. I've received more e-mail and comments from readers to check them out than probably any other national band. I've been listening to Boys and Girls in America since it was released a few months ago. Not bad. Kind of like an indie version of Springsteen and Thin Lizzy with some Smart Went Crazy thrown in. It's all about Craig Finn's snarky life-as-a-fallen-Catholic lyrics and his nasal nearly-spoken/yelled vocals. He's no crooner, in fact he doesn't even try to be one. With The Heartless Bastards & Love As Laughter. $12, 9 p.m.

Finally (and yes, I know this entry is running long), label executive Jason Kulbel confirmed to me today that Art in Manila's debut, Set the Woods on Fire, will be released on Saddle Creek Records Aug. 7. The Omaha City Weekly had the news first in this Elle Lien story in this week's issue, which just went online. I haven't heard their recording, but if it's anything like the live shows, their addition to the Creek roster is a no-brainer.

And speaking of Creek, the great American smoking debate continues at The Slowdown website. As I said Monday (here), the problem with polls is that those conducting them kinda/sorta have to do something as a result of the feedback. People are overwhelmingly voting to make Slowdown a no-smoking establishment. Will Jason and Robb listen or simply say 'Thanks for the feedback' and allow smoking in the club anyway? Now that they've got The Omaha World-Herald involved in the discussion (here), they may not have a choice. FYI… yet another show has been booked at Slowdown: Silversun Pickups Aug. 1.

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Brimstone Howl, The Terminals, The Shanks -- these bands are the new cock-rock. Not "cock rock" in that '80s hair-band glam-metal sort of way. Cock as in cocky. As in ballsy (and that applies to the Liz-led Terminals, too), snarky, always flexing tough-guy rock that is too-cool-for-school in a good way. I've been listening to Brimstone's new one, Guts of Steel, all morning. Their style's been called "garage rock" and "primitive rock" by people more familiar with this genre than I will ever be. Still, I don't think either term really fits. Songs like riff-happy "Bad Seed" and the strutting "Cyclone Boy" and "I'm a Man" conjure images of motorcycles and leather jackets, Brando in The Wild Bunch, drag racing down Dodge Street in a 50s-era Chevy. All shot in black-and-white. The nostalgia continues through to the '70s, to punk bands like The New York Dolls and The Stooges, and continues right into the current slate of bands that appear on labels like Estrus, In the Red and Lincoln's own Boom! Chick. Produced by Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys, Guts of Steel, released on national indie label Alive Records, is more varied and interesting than Bang! (seven times). It's also more fun.

If there's a criticism to this style of music it's that the underlying familiarity can cause people to complain that it all sounds the same. The nuances from track to track won't be apparent on first listen. It takes a while before each song begins to stand on its own, which is a complicated way of saying you'll need to listen to this three or four times straight through before you the seams between songs begin to show -- seams that are more visible in a live setting, like tonight's show, which will be a wild one. If The Terminals can burn a place like O'Leaver's down, imagine what they'll do on The Waiting Room stage. And I have a feeling that Jim and Marc will be following The Shanks around with a fire extinguisher (or a First-Aid kit). $5, 9 p.m.

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Since yesterday's Slowdown item went online they've enhanced their website to include a brief history of the project, a photo gallery, and an FAQ which includes answers to such sterling questions as 'What does Slowdown mean?' (it's a reference to the band Slowdown Virginia) and 'Do you have shows every night?' (No, typically only 2 or 3 nights a week) and most curiously, 'Who does all your in-house booking?' The answer is Val Nelson. So where does One Percent Productions fit in? I assume Val will be booking local shows while One Percent will book touring national acts like Built to Spill (which they, indeed, booked). Right?

And speaking of websites, yesterday I stumbled across Omahype.com, a blog that includes live reviews, news and brief show previews, not to mention a sweet photo of O'Leaver's bar sign. Yet another source for local indie music coverage. Check it out.

Tomorrow on Lazy-i, look for this week's column, a chat with David Matysiak of Coyote Bones, where he talks about all the local talent that showed up on his band's exceptional new disc.

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I'll probably spend most of the day listening to Morrissey after going to the show last night at The Orpheum, a show that will easily be in my top-5 -- not of 2007 but of all time. Look, I grew up listening to Morrissey and The Smiths. Some of the songs he performed last night I've been listening to for over 20 years. To get to see him perform "Everyday Is Like Sunday" or "How Soon is Now" or "Panic" in an environment as perfect as The Orpheum was special.

But as much as I love the early Morrissey stuff and The Smiths' tunes, the concert highlights were all newer songs. Backing him was an impeccable 5-piece that included three guitarists (one switched to keyboards) a bass player and a drummer behind an enormous set that included a giant Yamaha bass drum laid on its side and a massive gong, both of which he used sparingly and to fine effect.

Morrissey came out after a short set by opener Kristeen Young, a New Yorker who sounds like a pedestrian cross between Kate Bush and Siouxie, playing keyboards and singing while backed by a drummer. These two-piece acts are getting tiresome beyond their novelty. There were a couple good songs there somewhere, but without a band backing her, they sounded hollow and lackluster and half-finished.

After her set, videos of cinema and music icons were shown on a large sheet hung across the stage, including a live performance by The New York Dolls from a European music show from the '70s (as well as some homemade video of Johansen lighting a joint) and audition footage of James Dean for East of Eden.

Then came Morrissey, dressed in tight slacks, baby-blue belt and an assortment of French-cuffed long-sleeve shirts opened down to his belly Tom Jones-style. Morrissey looks like a gay Irish gangster these days, stocky but not fat, letting his hair gray at the temples, and sweating-sweating-sweating. He went through three shirts soaked black with sweat, tossing the first to someone in the stage pit (who I assume wiped that pit sweat all over his or her face).

The set started rough soundwise, but kudos to the sound guy, who adjusted the rather brash din after the first song, bringing it to sonic perfection. Gorgeous balance, at least where I stood (there was no sitting in the Orchestra setion last night), about 7 rows from the stage on stage-right aisle. Staging included two giant black-and-white Warholian portraits of James Dean hung from the rafters and an assortment of motorized stage lights, klieg lights, blinking florescent lights, all effectively choreographed to the music, which leaned to the heavier side of Morrissey's (and The Smith's) catalog. Some people consider Morrissey 'wimp music,' I guess because of the emotional, confessional lyrics (the Pope of Mope blah-blah-blah), but his music actually is pretty hard, at times bordering on punk. Cutting through the gritty static guitar noise and the throbbing rhythms is Morrissey's sweetie-pie voice that soars high and clean like the best of Sinatra crooners. Though at times huge and majestic, no one writes a melody with a sense of melancholy like Morrissey, and no one performs those songs quite like him, preening and prancing across stage, swinging his microphone chord like a whip, raising his eyebrows in mock concern. And always sweating like Tom Jones or Engelbert Humperdinck and all the other stage idols before him (but without scarf-throwing cheesiness) -- it was almost an Elvis sort of thing. Morrissey reached out and shook hands all night, and only at the end -- when a couple fans were invited on stage -- did the barrier get broken, one woman handing him her baby daughter which he twirled in his harms before handing her back. Meanwhile, off stage left, a guy dressed in a Union Jack tried to rush Morrissey only to get pushed back to the floor by a Buddha-sized bodyguard.

The between-song patter was limited to pre-scripted comments, except for when Morrissey talked about how one of his favorite people was from Lincoln. Who was it? Dick Cavett, strangely, though if you know Cavett's background it makes sense. So while he was happy and personable and funny, it was the music that was center stage. The highlights -- a brooding version of "Life is a Pigsty" that built for eight minutes or more, ending with Morrissey crumpled on his back with his arms across his face only to be reborn by a shrill, opening siren chords of "How Soon is Now?" The other highlight -- a gritty version of "Ganglord," a b-side off "The Youngest Was the Most Loved" single, and the closest he's ever come to the dark power of "How Soon is Now?" I hadn't heard Ringleader of the Tormentors before this concert. I own it now, and am convinced it may be one of his best, though my judgment will always be colored by last night's performance.

* * *

A couple shows worth mentioning tonight if you're out and about: At The Waiting Room it's Landing on the Moon with Fromanhole, Clair de Lune (said to be their last show ever) and Self Evident. $7, 9 p.m., while over at O'Leaver's it's punk rock gods The Shanks with electro-punkers Cloven Path and Ric Rhythm, $5, 9:30 p.m.

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Well, we made it to the weekend after all. The show list isn't very crowded, but it's pretty good.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, it's Kansas City's Vedera -- who were just here in February, and who still sound like a cross between Bettie Serveert and Metric (I think I compared them to Denali before). Once again, they're playing with Lincoln's Tie These Hands. Spring Gun also is on the bill. $8, 9 p.m. (though Waiting Room shows are becoming notorious for starting an hour or more late -- better to sell booze with, I suppose, and who can blame them now that they own the bar).

Saturday night it's not only Cinco de Mayo, but it's also the long-awaited CD release show for Coyote Bones' Gentleman on the Rocks, which Lazy-i has long declared as the best non-Creek local release so far this year. Sharing the stage at The Waiting Room will be two other CoCo Art collective members -- Flowers Forever featuring Derek Pressnall of Tilly and the Wall, and Dereck Higgins, who was among the plethora of supporting musicians who appear on Gentleman... $7, 9 p.m.

Meanwhile, just a hop, skip and jump down Maple Street at PS Collective, Black Squirrels are celebrating the release of their debut CD with the help of Midwest Dilemma and poet Todd Robinson. $5, 9 p.m.

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Funny thing about playing electronic music live - especially if you're a one-man band like San Sarec - no matter what you do or how you do it, there's always the chance that it's going to come off as a high-falutin' karaoke show. Nat Rabb (San Sarec) did about all he could to keep the crowd from thinking that, and it sort of worked. There he was, a shortish, dark-haired New Yorker-type surrounded by keyboards and other electronic gear, dancing and prancing, slapping a board with drumsticks while grasping a microphone, trying as hard as he could to get the patrons at The Waiting Room last night to get off their asses and dance. By the end of his house/club/electronica set played in the dark, he managed to at least get them off their asses, but only a couple girls were actually dancing. Although the music was pure club (Pet Shop Boys meets your favorite house DJ meets electro-clash), my girlfriend still fell asleep during his set (literally). Highlight: A revved-up version of Bowie's "Teenage Wildlife," with Rabb providing a spot-on vocal match of the thin white duke.

Junior Boys was another story all together. A trio that included a real, live drummer, frontman/vocalist Jeremy Greenspan on guitar and bass, and Matt Didemus manning a rack of keyboards and other technology, there was no mistaking them for anything other than the dance-flavored rock band that they are. Greenspan wasn't waiting for the house to demurely get on their feet - he told them to get up to the stage before he began his set. "You paid to get in here. You're going to have more fun in here than back there," he said, pointing at the back of the bar. Most of the crowd of 70 or so reluctantly surrounded the stage, but that didn't mean they were going to dance. Instead, they did the usual stand-and-shrug-to-the-beat thing that Omaha is famous for. Greenspan didn't seem to mind.

While I like their recent album, So This Is Goodbye, I've always felt that the recording sounded somewhat hollow and lifeless at times. That problem was mostly solved on stage, where the band filled in the hollow points with extra instrumentation. Greenspan, who talks like your slightly nasal neighbor when he tells stories between songs (like the one about how the last time they came to Omaha their bus driver pissed all over a birthday cake before the lucky recipient ate it), sings like the second coming of Bryan Ferry with a voice that's strangely, surprisingly willowy. Meanwhile, Didemus spent the set poking at technology with one hand while smoking with the other, looking like a dark-haired version of Phillip Seymour Hoffman. At one point, I think he was manipulating the sound files with a (computer) mouse, swaying slightly to the beat the whole time. Funny.

Like The Faint concert held at The Waiting Room a month or so ago, the bass was chest-crushingly loud, as if it was coughing for you from deep inside your lungs. There was no sleeping through this set. And while most of the music sounded markedly better live than on CD, my favorite track off the record, "In the Morning," was disappointingly tame, thanks to a shift in the mix that pushed the technology below the overpowering, omnipresent bass.

***

Tonight at The Waiting Room, the return of Mark Mallman. Who remembers the last time he played in Omaha (read my review here)? Let's hope a few more people show up this time. Mallman's out supporting a new album, Seven Years. Opening the show is everyone's favorite Omaha pop-rock combo The Third Men. $7, 9 p.m.

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Very little to report today. Billboard posted a semi-interesting interview with Tim Kasher (here) where he sort of talks about the future of Cursive ("We chat a lot about where we're going to practice so that seems to suggest that we want to write some songs and stuff."). They're trying to avoid another hiatus after this Mastodon tour. And apparently he's titled the new Good Life album Help Wanted Nights, which I believe was the proposed title of his screenplay. What could it mean for the future of that film project?

Tonight at Sokol Underground its Starlight Mints with Ryan Lindsay. I lost track of these guys back in 2000 with Dream that Stuff was Made of on SeeThru Recordings. They've changed a lot since then, and these days are recording for Barsuk. $10, 9 p.m. Meanwhile at The Waiting Room its punk rock with Daughters, Prostitute and Wasteoid. $8, 9 p.m.

Happy May Day.

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