Key: (A)=Don’t Miss; (B)=Sure Bet; (C)=Think Twice; (D)=Diehards Only
GOLDIE, Friday at Metro, 3730 N. Clark St. $20-$25. 773-549-0203. (C). For a split second in the mid-’90s, drum ‘n’ bass techno was crowned music’s next-big-thing before it faded away faster than the breakbeats on a hyper-speed club smash. Metalheadz Records founder and onetime James Bond villain Goldie is one of the British art form’s innovators, yet he’s been quiet for several years, an ominous sign given electronica’s fickle nature.
SOULFLY, Saturday at House of Blues, 329 N. Dearborn St. $22.50. 312-923-2000. (B). Gravel-crushing thrash, dub reggae, bludgeoning hardcore, Serbian folk and devout expressions sure make for strange bedfellows, but former Sepultura vocalist Max Cavalera convincingly unites these and other disparate international styles on Soulfly’s bulldozing “Prophesy” (Roadrunner). A heavy metal pioneer, Cavalera approaches Soulfly as an evolving collective and expands the band’s boundaries every chance he gets.
MALACHI THOMPSON’S AFRICA BRASS, Sunday at Hothouse, 31 E. Balbo Ave. $15. 312-362-9707. (B). South Sider and bluesy trumpeter Malachi Thompson is one of Chicago’s unheralded greats, a composer whose rhythmic blend of bebop and free jazz on 2003’s “Blue Jazz” (Delmark) raises the bar for brass big bands. Inspired by Ellington’s ambition, Monk’s interweaving melodicism and overlooked historical roots, Thompson’s futuristic orchestrations and contemporary commentaries are brushed onto the canvas by the magnificent Africa Brass ensemble, which, along with guest saxophonist Dennis Winslett, accompanies him at this Jazz Fest AfterSet.
KING WILKIE, Thursday at Schubas, 3159 N. Southport Ave. $10. 773-525-2508. (B). Taking its name from Bill Monroe’s favorite horse, Virginia-based King Wilkie is reviving roots-based bluegrass for younger generations. Lightly spiked with stand-up bass flourishes and spiritual harmonies, the up-and-coming sextet’s sophomore effort “Broke” (Rebel) evokes dusty hayrides, lantern-lit barn dances and old-fashioned romances.
JACK JOHNSON, Tuesday at the Aragon, 1106 W. Lawrence Ave. $32.50. 773-561-9500. (C). In surfer Jack Johnson’s world, the sun always shines, everyone feels good and there’s no ills a few relaxed melodies or trite lyrics can’t cure. His vanilla grooves have struck a nerve with college kids and twentysomethings who crave the kind of reality-postponing bliss that comes with hitting the “snooze” button on their alarm clock in the morning, a practice that’s as routine as Johnson’s “On and On” (Universal).
PHIL COLLINS, Wednesday at the United Center, 1901 W. Madison St. $45-$95. 312-455-4500. (D). Taking a page from fellow nostalgia chasers The Eagles, Phil Collins’ humorously named “First Final Farewell Tour” strongly hints that this isn’t the last time he’ll sing his mushy ballads, sentimental pop and elevator-music favorites onstage. With a forthcoming “Love Songs” (Rhino) anthology to promote, the schmaltzy crooner should be at his softest and gooiest. If you go, be forewarned: hearing “Su-su-ssudio” echoing in your head may prove unnerving.
MELVINS, Thursday at the Double Door, 1572 N. Milwaukee Ave. $16.50. 773-489-3160. (A). With the band’s 20th anniversary on the horizon, the Melvins are making no small plans: a coffee-table book, gristly album with ambient-industrial artist Lustmord (“Pigs of the Roman Empire,” Ipecac) and a collaboration with ex-Dead Kennedy Jello Biafra will all see the light of day by October. On record, the Melvins’ sludge rock typically vacillates between maddening dullness and hypnotic brilliance. But in concert, where god-of-thunder-voiced singer King Buzzo bobs his frizzy afro to laggardly rhythms, and Dale Crover pounds his bass drum with the patient might of a club-carrying caveman, the legendary underground trio gives new meaning to the Wilco lyric “Playing Kiss covers/beautiful and stoned.”
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DALE WATSON, Thursday at Martyr’s, 3855 N. Lincoln Ave. $10. 773-404-9494. (B). While pretty boy Kenny Chesney is busy carrying on Garth Brooks’ legacy for the mainstream masses at Tweeter Center, aficionados of genuine honky-tonk and Buck Owens-inspired Bakersfield country twang can see up-close this doggedly independent Texas transplant for a fraction of the price. After his fiance died in a car accident while en route to meet him in 2000, Dale Watson nearly drank and drugged himself to death before landing in a mental institution. He sounds fully recovered on the pedal-steel accented “Dreamland” (Koch), which stands in contrast to Nashville’s homogenized pop-country sheen and finds him picking with Asleep at the Wheel’s Ray Benson. At this show, Watson will be backed by his Lonestars trio.