John Forbes and his Tijuana Hercules cohorts rolled through town like a drunken twister Saturday night (May 20), unleashing a glorious mess of a show at the Star Bar. For those who are unfamiliar, Forbes is the former singer and guitarist for Dirt, the greatest proto-grunge band in the secret history of Atlanta music. And for those who still dig around the local record stores, there is an eternal mystique surrounding the group’s name, at least around these parts — Dirt’s essential albums Shemale Sugar Pussy and Sahara of the Bozart just don’t exist on the Internet, so if you want to hear the music, some record bin archaeology is in order, but I’m digressing.

Forbes has been living in Chicago for decades at this point, honing his wild-eyed energy, and after a recent premonition of all the protests and god-awful traffic that comes along with something like the NATO summit occupying his town for the weekend, he skipped town ‘til the heat blew over, and thank goodness for that.

Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Ranaldo played the opening set for M. Ward and a well-behaved audience at the Buckhead Theatre on May 17. Ranaldo’s band, which included Alan Licht (guitar), Irwin Menken (bass), and Sonic Youth cohort Steve Shelley (drums), leaned into a set that was mostly made up of songs from Ranaldo's latest solo album, Between the Times & the Tides (Matador Records), but there were a few well-calibrated covers mixed in as well: A bombastic run through the Talking Heads’ “Thank You for Sending Me an Angel” upped the energy all around, and they closed out the set with a spacious rendition of Sonic Youth’s “Genetic” from the "My So-Called Life" soundtrack — or as the more sophisticated fans like to say, it’s a B-side from their 1992 single, “100%.”

The Buckhead Theatre gets called out a lot for sounding kind of wonky, and sure the bass could have been turned up a bit, but the mass of sound on Thursday was balanced, and never stood in the way of an impecable performance. On stage, giving brief anecdotes about each song he was about to play, Ranaldo beamed like a man who’s truly stoked to be right where he is an an artist, and at times, when hitting those wailing notes, his voice bore an uncanny resemblance to that of a young Michael Stipe, circa Lifes Rich Pageant — that's a good thing, but it's merely a happy accident, and the comparisons should stop there. Before tearing into “Genetic,” he explained, “Steve and I used to be in this other band … Well, actually, what am I saying? We’re still in that band, and we wanted to play one of our songs or you; here’s an older one.”

So there’s that …

Disappears played a show at the Earl last night (April 24), headlining a bill with local acts Mirror Mode and Lotus Plaza — running through about an hour-long set that was heavy on material from their latest album, Pre Language (Kranky).

Not since June of 2010 has ex-90 Day Men/Ponys guitarist Brian Case, guitarist Jonathan Van Herik, and bass player Damon Carruesco made their way back through Atlanta, and this time they had Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley in-tow. Now a full-time member of Disappears, Shelly blends pretty seamlessly into the fold, and the cyclical style of his drumming adds a buoyant punch to the drawn-out Krautrcok rhythms being pushed to the edge of post-punk ambiance in such newer numbers as “Replicate,” "Hibernation Sickness," and the absolute show stopper, “Joa.”

When Shabazz Palaces took the stage at the 40 Watt on April 19th, playing the opening slot for Sacramento dance-punk outfit !!!, the air in the room was transformed.

It was a typical Thursday night for downtown Athens. Throngs of college students choked up the sidewalks as they made their way from one bar to the next. But inside the 40 Watt, a darker, dreamlike atmosphere steeped in a low-end jumble of beats, rhymes, and aural clutter was unfolding.

Shabazz Palaces’ key players, Ishmael Butler and Tendai Maraire, craft a sound that’s literally unparalleled, an Afro-Krautrock groove that emerges from of layers upon layers of electronic sounds and organic rhythms that are pieced together to create simple working parts that play off of each other with subtle articulation. When Butler and Maraire emerged from the darkness at the back of the stage, shaking maracas as they took their places behind an arsenal of MPCs, microphones, a laptop, and various hand drums, the merger of these two components filled the air with soft clarity.

The 4th Ward Afro-Klezmer Orchestra battled the hellish traffic that was clogging up I-75 North to play a show at the Winder Binder gallery of folk art on Chattanooga, Tenn.'s north shore for the 4th annual Faux Bridges fest on April 14.

With every square inch of the place plastered in vibrant smears of folk art ephemera and stacks of used books, the room fleshed out the mostly unamplified abundance of Africanized rhythms and Klezmer melodies the eight-piece jazz ensemble blew through — a whole lot of older material, including "East Atlanta Passover Stomp" and "Dolgo Horo," along with a few teasers from the upcoming LP, Abdul the Rabbi.

Raekwon “the Chef” headlined a show at Masquerade last night (Wed., April 4), capping off a lineup filled out by Freddie Gibbs and fellow CTE affiliate Slick Pulla, along with JD Era, Tommy Nova, Kofi Black, Marq Spekt, and Ante Meridian (feat. Rozewood and Mr. Enok). Fort Knox and DJ Dug Boogie hosted. Technically, Rae was there in support of his latest mixtape, Unexpected Victory, but he unleashed a heavy duty set punctuated by a handful of classic Wu-bangers (“C.R.E.A.M.” “Da Mystery of Chessboxin'”), along with a steady stream of solo numbers spanning both Only Built For Cuban Linx pts. 1 and 2, spouting off everything from “Criminology” and "Incarcerated Scarfaces" to “Surgical Gloves” and “House of Flying Daggers.”

It was a pretty comprehensive set to be sure, and he even led the crowd on a run through Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ya,” as an homage to his fallen Shaolin cohort, and the room became an absolute mob scene. The turnout was bit light, which was kind of bummer, being that Rae is the one currently Wu-Tang swordsmen who’s still making good records, but it wasn’t sparse by any means. It was a grimy New York-style rap show, and you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in the crowd who didn't raise up a W at least once.

Circulatory System made the trek over from Athens to close out the WREKtacular 2012 annual fundraiser at the Goat Farm Saturday night (March 31). Following performances by Caleb Herron & Chamber Cartel, the Deacon Lunchbox Experience, Brainworlds, and Zebu!, singer/guitarist and principle songwriter Will Hart led his post-Olivia Tremor Control ensemble — filled out by OTC cohorts Bill Doss (guitar) and John Kiran Fernandes (bass, violin, clarinet), along with drummer Derek Almstead (drums), and Peter Erchick (keyboard/bass) — for about an hour-long set built around numbers from Circulatory System’s 2001 self-titled debut, and 2009’s Signal Morning. Songs such as “Diary of Wood,” "Yesterday’s World,” and “Signal Morning” were highlights of a show that came to a head with a twisted-up and psychedelic dirge take on the Velvet Underground’s “Run Run Run” — a cacophonous close to a show that was washed in intense blues, greens, and reds — a darker, grittier, and more experimental sound and vision than what 4/5 of these band members delivered back in January when OTC played the Earl, but Hart’s melodies still reigned supreme.

Photo gallery

He whipped them out of his cargo shorts and twirled them around his fingers like a cowboy, only to be tapped on the shoulder by an employee shaking his head and motioning for him to cut it out. His jaw dropped as his hands fell, still holding the strings with glow sticks attached to each end.

Atlanta’s newest music venue, Terminal West, is the last place one would expect to see a recess monitor. For more than two years, co-owners Robert Shaw and Alan Sher regularly booked electro-heavy concerts/DJs for 18-and-up crowds inside a King Plow Arts Center gallery space, starting with Pretty Lights in 2009 and ending with Emancipator in January. Such shows helped the Westside complex gain an unusual reputation, deemed the Best Event Space-Turned-Dubstep Destination in CL’s Best of Atlanta issue.

So Shaw and Sher decided to open the 6,700-square-foot permanent music digs to cater to all things electronic, sort of. “It’s definitely going to evolve,” Sher said days before the preview show. Washed Out is set to perform there in May, as Terminal West looks to book “more indie stuff, more rock stuff” and draw a more varied clientele than QUAD or the Sound Table. But for the start of its two-part concert preview series last Friday night, the owners tested out the lights and speakers with former King Plow resident Mayhem, Skrillex-endorsed duo KOAN Sound, and Gemini.

See a gallery of photos from the Jane’s Addiction show at the Tabernacle on March 13.

Sometimes the right thing happens at the right time, something that could only happen during a specific flash in time. For Jane’s Addiction, that time came and went sometime between 1989 and ’91. It was a nebulous era — the ’80s had shifted gears into the ’90s, and the climate of underground music was in a ragtag state that, in retrospect, embodied all of the logic and structure of a Jackson Pollock painting. In the midst of it all there was Jane’s Addiction, a group from Los Angeles fronted by Perry Farrell, a dread-headed frontman that seemed to bear the resemblance of a lovechild spawned by Boy George and Ronald McDonald. He looked good, and not only that, Jane's Addiction truly offered an alternative to the music that surrounded it. At the time, both punk rock and heavy metal had reached a point of maximum entropy, and along come Farrell (vocals), Dave Navarro (guitar), Stephen Perkins (drums), and Eric Avery (bass) to shake up the lunkhead complacency of the MTV generation with a gypsy whiplash sound that was too cool and stylish for "Headbangers Ball," and so wide-eyed and … well feral that it redefined the pseudo-intellectual tooth and claw of coffee house punk and the counter culture the ’90s. On stage at the Tabernacle on Tuesday night, more than two decades after the arguable peak of commercial and artistic success that came with Ritual de lo Habitual, the fourth dimension that Jane's Addiction once occupied has been buried by the sands of time.

He gripped the bar stool in front of him as he raised and lowered his ass like a jack handle — up, down, up, down, and right into my crotch. Seconds later, an older male stepped forward and bent to meet his gaze only to ask if he could pass through. Then two girls tried to walk by. Failing to see jack handle's head bent down to his knees, they jumped back after he snapped upright.

East Atlanta gay dive bar Mary's hosts a dance party on Saturday nights, an event that isn't nearly as celebrated as the karaoke sessions that used to occupy that time slot. (Mary-oke is now only on Tuesdays.) But as its name "Hot Mess" indicates, anything is game; music selections aren't restricted to any particular decade or genre, and unlike its Wednesday night party the Honey Pot — "sweet indie pop for burly men" — people of all sexes and builds are invited to get loose.