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Tuesday 9.16

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Tussle
  • Tussle

Chapel Hill
Tussle, Black Congo NC
Nightlight—Tussle never met an endless beat it didn't like. The San Francisco band's experiments with rhythm and avoidance of guitar and vocals have given it the heralded place of being an electronic group that uses mostly live percussion at the base.

The core elements of the music become so elastic, the polyrhythms invite manipulation. Look for songs off their latest full-length, Cream Cuts, to get the re-edit treatment on a vinyl EP from local label FrequeNC.

For this incarnation, Tussle presents some lineup changes. Principal member Alexis Georgopolous departed in 2007, and Tomonori Yasuda joined on bass and electronics. Still, the band maintains a propulsive power championed by giants of German psychedelic rock like Can. Last fall, Tussle's Warren Huegel even played drums on Can singer Dam Suzuki's last tour. Like the other Tusslers, he can't seem to get enough of the infinite beat, so he had to go play with one of its first proponents, seemingly stepping behind the kit where Can drummer Jaki Liebezeit once held forth.

Charlotte group Black Congo NC opens, evoking an alluring, smoky vibe, akin to some East African street players with their own basic electronics coming to terms with Unrest's arch-pop opus Imperial F.F.R.R. Very inviting and certainly a new Carolina band worthy of insistent attention. FrequeNC's DJ Nasty Boots throws some wax to start it off at 8:30 p.m. —Chris Toenes


Raleigh
The Mother Truckers
The Pour House—Hailing from Austin, Texas, The Mother Truckers plays rock with a twang that pulls at heartstrings while spitting in faces. With a groove that grabs you like a passing train snags a mailbag full of Dear John letters, the dueling male/female vocals of Josh Zee and Teal Collins keep you listening to the tongue-in-cheek conductors. Notice moments like dynamite becoming a sexual metaphor. "Deep down in the valley where the sun don't shine/ got a stick of dynamite that's mine all mine," Collins sings. Pay $6-$8 for the 9 p.m. explosion. —Andrew Ritchey

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