Between them British producer Nigel Godrich and American drummer Joey Waronker have been intimately involved with some of the most popular and influential music of the past couple decades: Godrich has worked with Radiohead, Pavement, and the Flaming Lips, among others, while Waronker has played with Beck, Nelly Furtado, R.E.M., and a zillion more. But they’re finally calling their own shots in Ultraista, a trio rounded out by unremarkable British singer Laura Bettinson. Unfortunately, though their self-titled debut for Temporary Residence shows off many of their trademarks—densely percolating polyrhythms, overlapping synths playing terse licks and colorful washes, and metronomic bass lines, here by Gus Seyffert—too much of it feels unfinished. Bettinson tries to caress the modest melodies, but she lacks the charisma and range to bring the songs’ skeletal blueprints to life. And because Godrich and Waronker are both members of Thom Yorke’s Atoms for Peace—who release their first album on Tuesday and will likely follow that with loads of touring—I’m thinking it’s unlikely we’ll ever hear Ultraista evolve their approach to the point that they’re writing real songs. —Peter Margasak Prefuse 73 opens.
$18
Sera Cahoone named her recent third solo album, Deer Creek Canyon (Sub Pop), after a park near where she grew up in Colorado; in the mid-90s she moved to Seattle, where she still lives, and played drums in Carissa’s Wierd, Band of Horses, and other groups. Almost every song on Deer Creek Canyon expresses a longing for home, familiarity, and companionship, whether she’s literally yearning for a place (on the title track) or struggling with the pull of romantic nostalgia (on “Rumpshaker” she sings, “But now that I’m here I don’t know why I came at all”). As with her previous records, Cahoone’s sometimes wispy, sometimes twangy folk-rock flirts dangerously with ethereal fluff a la Sarah McLachlan, but she saves her songs with the directness of her writing and the leanness of the arrangements. —Peter Margasak Ryan Jeffrey opens.
$10
Chicago Afrobeat Project—arguably the midwest’s best practitioners of the funky style pioneered more than four decades ago by Nigerian national hero Fela Kuti—adapt Afrobeat to a wide range of music on their new album, Nyash Up! (CAbP Music), including songs by local free-jazz combo the Vandermark 5, Brazilian pop thrush Ceu, and Led Zeppelin. In nearly every case the material has been so heavily remade that the only trace of the original is the occasional lyric or indelible lick—the bass line in Fugazi’s “Waiting Room,” for instance, or the vocals of guest singer Ugochi on Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues.” CABP definitely have Fela’s sound down pat—they even fuse his “Just Like That” with Radiohead’s “I Might Be Wrong” on the opening track—but their take on it sometimes feels self-conscious and bland. And it doesn’t help that local rapper S. Squair Blaq adds some verses to the Gaye cover that back down from Fela’s radical politics to rather timidly demand an end to the war on the middle class—it sounds depressingly like an uninspired Obama stump speech. —Peter Margasak Nick & the Ovorols open.
$10
British singer-songwriter Ellie Goulding first released the song “Lights” near the end of 2009, but it wasn’t till last year that it found its proper audience—and in the process exploded unexpectedly into a global hit that reached number two on the Billboard Hot 100. “Lights” is a big, generous anthem with a tasteful but ecstatic techno bump and a massively epic chorus that almost demands to be screamed along to on a dance floor by drunk girls. But Goulding isn’t afraid to challenge her listeners. Last year’s Halcyon—which she released while its predecessor, Lights, was still charting—has some genuinely aggressive sounds and a nice spooky vibe that recalls Kate Bush and Tori Amos in equal measure, but it doesn’t sacrifice the mega hooks that rope in casual fans. She’s toured with Katy Perry and with Grimes, proving that she works just as well with a pop idol as she does with a more experimental musician. And the way her own musical ambition has paid off has probably helped close the gap between the two. —Miles Raymer St. Lucia opens.
R&B singer Jose James isn’t a known quantity in the jazz world, though tastemakers such as British DJ Gilles Peterson have done their best to make him one. James has made it clear to anyone listening that he doesn’t consider himself a jazz artist, even though early in his career he worked with the likes of Chico Hamilton and Junior Mance and in 2010 he recorded an intimate album of jazz standards with pianist Jef Neve called For All We Know (Impulse). With his rich, malleable, expressive voice, though, he’s an artisan compared to current R&B practitioners such as Frank Ocean or Miguel—and that’s apparently enough to persuade some people that he must be singing jazz. To my ears it’s obvious that James’s focus is on modern R&B, with a heavy dose of D’Angelo. He does little to disrupt that comparison on his newest and best record, No Beginning No End (Blue Note), which succeeds in large part because he’s no longer searching for his sound. It features bassist Pino Palladino (who also coproduced), a key player on D’Angelo’s Voodoo, and its terse, velvety horn charts and stuttery hip-hip grooves also recall that paradigm-shifting album. The influence of hip-hop-producer J Dilla is audible too, heightened by the presence on several tracks of keyboardist Robert Glasper, whose current project is steeped in Dilla’s sound—tightly coiled rhythms, compressed frequency range, gut-thumping bass. Unlike D’Angelo, whose singing is fiercely focused but reserved, James uses the full range of his powerful voice; it can be silky, gentle, and imploring, but every so often he really pours it on, a move that’s all the more powerful because he uses it so sparingly. An undercurrent of the blues in his style connects him to jazz (he admits that jazz is a part—but just a part—of his sound), and his writing covers more turf than D’Angelo’s does—the lovely “Come to My Door” could be a coffeehouse staple rather than a slow jam. He’s supported by a lean band featuring bassist Solomon Dorsey, keyboardist Kris Bowers, trumpeter Takuya Kuroda, and drummer Nate Smith (a Dave Holland sideman). —Peter Margasak
$18, $15 in advance
Very few reuniting bands get the kind of high-profile opportunity to show off what they can still do that Seattle grunge legends Soundgarden did—their first new single in 16 years, “Live to Rise,” played during the end credits of The Avengers. Their first new album in just as long, King Animal (Loma Vista), makes the most of that exposure: though there’s no way it could sound as fresh and wild as the band did in 1989, it’s a great gift to their fans, as well as to anyone who needs a little schooling in just how incredibly influential they were in their prime. It’s 52 minutes that never let up, with a refreshing variety in theme and tempo, and Chris Cornell’s snarly rock-god pipes are as strong as ever; founding guitarist Kim Thayil is here too, as are drummer Matt Cameron (who joined in 1986) and bassist Ben Shepherd (aboard in 1990). The band’s songwriting star might never have burned as bright as Nirvana’s did, but there’s something to be said for a band that’s built to last—and Soundgarden sounds surprisingly indestructible. —Monica Kendrick
Laley Lippard has taken apart Shakespeare's "Scottish play" and reassembled it with the idea of making Lady Macbeth the protagonist. To achieve that aim Lippard cleverly elides key elements (the prophetic witches are entirely omitted) and adds others (such as a sultry sex scene) that are merely alluded to in the testosterone-fueled original. If Lippard's deconstruction is effective, her direction is even more impressive. She makes smart uses of minimal space (by banging on the outer walls of the theater, for instance, to simulate inner turmoil) and primitive lighting, relying on little more than four light bulbs, a doorway, and a lantern. Kristi Webb is terrific as Lady Macbeth; the other actors didn't seem as strong to me, but then I may've been distracted by the bizarre decision to outfit them in cargo pants. --Tal Rosenberg $15-$20
This fine Stage Left/BoHo Theatre coproduction reminded me how much richer and deeper George Bernard Shaw's 1912 comedy is than its sentimentalized musicalization, My Fair Lady. The tale of a misogynistic phonetics professor who teaches a cockney flower girl to speak well—and in so doing, transforms her into an independent woman beyond his control—Shaw's classic brilliantly satirizes gender roles, class, and morality, even as it delivers a sublimated but potent romance. In Vance Smith's staging, leads Steve O'Connell and Mouzam Makkar bring bristling intelligence to their strong-willed characters, both of whom use intellectual achievement to harness their chaotic emotions. —Albert Williams $25
Jonathan Harvey's tender, tough dramedy focuses on working-class British teen Jamie and his complicated, sometimes combative relationships with the two most important people in his life: his barmaid mother, who dreams of owning her own pub, and Ste, the handsome young schoolmate who lives with his abusive father in the council flat next door. The material feels familiar because it's true to life, and Harvey's 1993 script tackles still-timely themes--bullying, domestic violence, teenage sexual identity conflicts--with a hard-edged humor that doesn't sacrifice seriousness. The success of John Nasca's Pride Films and Plays production hinges largely on Robert Hilliard's engaging performance as Jamie, a stocky, sports-averse 16-year-old whose confidence blossoms as he journeys toward self-acceptance. --Albert Williams $23-$25
A Saint Louis family clashes in Tennessee Williams's drama. $15-$25
Andrew Bovell's 2008 family drama spans two continents, four generations, and about 80 years, from the 1950s to 2039. Jumping back and forth in time, it teasingly reveals the secrets, sins, failed romances, and fraught parent-child relationships that connect the tight-lipped Law family of London with the flinty Yorks of Australia. Bovell's jigsaw approach creates the sense that past, present, and future are alive in each moment. Images and phrases recur, taking on new shades of meaning with each repetition, as in a villanelle. Inasmuch as Circle Theatre usually sticks to crowd-pleasing musicals and comedies, John Gawlik's sensitive and layered staging comes as a welcome surprise. Likewise, the cast turn in performances distinguished by their depth and quiet honesty. --Zac Thompson $15-$32