MAD SCIENTIST ROCK Parts & Labor's B.J. Warshaw.

Noise shows simply aren't mediocre. They're either grim and awful pretense-a-thons attended by smug bastards congratulating themselves for being so avant-garde as to be present to endure such utter shit, or they're mind-blowing affirmations of the possibilities contained in music when its makers discard the conventional. The six-band bill at Pat's Thursday night, headlined by Brooklyn, NYC's Parts & Labor, was exhilaratingly one of the latter.

P&L have, with their latest album, Stay Afraid, perfected a sound culled from an unlikely amalgam of sources. Swirling, warbling, cacophonous sounds generated almost exclusively by heavily effected toy keyboards, strenuous drumming and actual, accomplished singing (almost unheard-of in the noise world) hash together into stirring, raucous anthems, like the most rocking Scottish military music imaginable. From their opener, "Drastic Measures," P&L commanded the packed house's full attention for the duration of a set that leaned heavily on material from Stay Afraid, with a smattering of unreleased songs, culminating in the crowd-pleasing "Changing of the Guard" and "A Great Divide," the latter being the closest thing a group like P&L can have to a "hit." That such a uniquely talented band could emerge from an annoying trust-fund hipster scene like Brooklyn's is both impressive and comforting.

With so many opening bands, it's hard not to give them short shrift, but enough of them were worthy that they at least deserve mention. Locals Jerk and Clan of the Cave Bear were both in impressive form, Jerk being a highly energetic white-noise-and-menace band, Cave Bear a math-damaged and extremely precise guitar and drums duo. Ferndale, Michigan's Child Bite made a vivid impression with its superlatively spastic noise-pop, while one-man non-band the Betamen of Judea performed a "set" consisting of promoter Steve Barrett snapping vinyl records in two while pre-recorded drones played through the club's P.A. n

My Morning Jacket

House of Blues

Monday, December 4

My Morning Jacket is an oddity on the major label rock landscape because the band's been allowed to evolve at its own pace. The group headlined a quarter-full Odeon a few years ago in support of It Still Moves, only to play to much larger crowds at the House of Blues the last two trips through town, supporting Z and its double live album, Okonokos, respectively. That this was the band's last show before heading back to Kentucky to celebrate Christmas, as well as a homecoming show for keyboardist Bo Koster, obviously meant it'd be in good spirits. Leading off with "It Beats For You" and "What a Wonderful Man," the band worked its way through 20 songs in just under two hours. Wearing huge snow boots instead of the shoeless look he normally cultivates, singer-guitarist Jim James has become a bona fide guitar hero. It was evident throughout the night, but particularly during the 12-string guitar solo in the middle of "What a Wonderful Man." If his vocal skills were ever in doubt, they certainly weren't after a transcendent version of "Worldless Chorus."

It's been fascinating to witness the rise of My Morning Jacket compared to that of the Drive-By Truckers, a band it was once so often compared to. Both bands originally had a Southern rock-influenced sound, but My Morning Jacket has broken through to just below the mainstream by turning that formula on its ear with the psychedelically inflected Z. While the Drive-By Truckers are playing bigger venues than ever before, they seem to be limiting their audience by refusing to change their sound even slightly. My Morning Jacket's diversified sound has allowed it to broaden its audience. It was the material from Z — particularly "Off the Record" — that received the biggest cheers from the audience. But the tunes from It Still Moves showed they've withstood the test of time. "One Big Holiday" was as bombastic as ever, while "Golden" still remains the band's best ballad. Tradition seems to dictate that "Mahgeetah" closes every show, as it did on this night. — Jeremy Willets

The Lemonheads

The Grog Shop

Saturday, December 9

For a few hours last Saturday, it felt like 1993 all over again. There was a tour bus in front of the Grog, Evan Dando was sipping Stella backstage and over 200 people paid $20 dollars to see the Lemonheads perform in support of a new album. Unfortunately, despite kicking things off strongly, Dando proved his ego was also as bloated as it was in the early-'90s as the show disintegrated into a self-indulgent solo set culminating with the Lemonheads frontman hurling his Gibson SG at his guitar tech like a toddler who had skipped nap time.

The Lemonheads' 35-song, two-hour set spanned songs spanning the band's entire career with a few random covers thrown in for good measure. Although the Descendents' Karl Alvarez and Bill Stevenson backed up Dando on the Lemonheads' new self-titled release, Saturday he was supported by two members of the Pieces — as well as a second guitar player who inexplicably added his parts from the sound booth and acted as an ideal foil to Dando's erratic behavior. While Dando's interaction with the crowd was impressive — he let patrons strum his guitar during "Hannah & Gabi" and called another fan onstage for an impromptu karaoke version of "Mrs. Robinson" — he lost even the hardcore fans during the aforementioned solo set (the highlight of which was his emotive rendition of the Misfits' "Skulls"), only partially redeeming himself when he brought his group back out at nearly one in the morning to finally play some of the band's early thrash material. — Jonah Bayer

Marshall Crenshaw

The Winchester

Saturday, December 9

Respected guitar-pop legend Marshall Crenshaw began Saturday's solo acoustic show the same way as his 1982 debut album, with "There She Goes Again." He followed that up with a rendition of HŸsker DŸ-er Grant Hart's fab "Twenty-Five Forty-One," which Crenshaw had covered on his own 1996 Miracle of Science disc. Ultimately, roughly a third of the night's set list consisted of cover tunes, many of which Crenshaw has never formally recorded. A spirited take on the Rolling Stones' "Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown" was a particularly memorable highlight, and Buddy Holly's "Rave On" closed down the encore at show's end. Crenshaw sprinkled the show with a career-spanning selection of his own songs, from early classics like "Cynical Girl" and "Whenever You're On My Mind" to brilliant '90s cuts like "What Do You Dream Of?" and "Television Light."

The overarching vibe was one of Crenshaw basically hanging out and having fun sharing his favorite songs, whether he wrote them himself or not. Crenshaw effortlessly took ownership of other people's material and interwove it with his own into a cohesive, seamless lyrical perspective and musical style, a testimony to his accomplished maturity as an artist. His seasoned status was also reflected in his vocal and guitar techniques, which were solid and tight but allowed room for variance and improvisation. As demographics go, professional guitarists seem especially prone to self-indulgent solos and excessive embellishments to prove their instrumentalist virtuosity. However, when Crenshaw pulled out some wild chord technique or added noodly jazz accent riffs, they were unassuming and naturally integrated. Crenshaw came off as creatively comfortable, not in a stagnant or complacent way, but as someone who had mastered his craft and thus earned a freedom to have fun without anything to prove.

Local opener Dan Mills also conveyed a natural confidence with his own material, which boasted stronger-than-average vocals and melodies for local acoustic singer-songwriter fare. However, Mills' appropriated usage of stock country-music imagery like trucks, trains and prairie weeds felt artificially imposed, suggesting Mill hasn't arrived yet at his own distinctive artistic identity.

— Michael David Toth