Magness Lake, in Heber Springs, is a magnet for swans
8 p.m. Low Key Arts. $20
Low, the beloved indie rock band that has released 11 albums since forming in 1993, has often been described as funereal, minimalist, inscrutable or aloof. Like Jeb Bush, they were once pegged as "low energy," and the label stuck. They used to embrace it. An early promo biography read: "Low is a trio from Duluth, Minnesota, who make very slow music. That's not the only thing there is to their music, or even the most important thing, but it's what you'll notice first." Originally considered in the context of celebrated earlier introverts like Galaxie 500, their dirge-like tempos and hushed sparseness over time began to be considered as stylistic markers that merited the creation of a new subgenre — slowcore — a label rejected by most of the groups it described, like Bedhead and Codeine. They made dour guitar rock that both simulated depression and perfectly complemented it. Listen to the music Low has released in the last decade, though, and this description will seem inadequate, if still essentially understandable. Their arrangements have become more sophisticated, their instrumentation more diverse. The band's music has always been grounded in the downbeat vocal duo of singers Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker — who are married, and Mormon — and their harmonies have only gotten subtler and more dynamic.
ARKANSAS TIMES MUSICIANS SHOWCASE
8 p.m. Stickyz. $5.
This week's semifinal round of the Arkansas Times Musicians Showcase features The Uh Huhs, a Little Rock garage punk band that released its debut 7-inch last year on Fast Weapons Records; soulful blues-rockers Love and a Revolver; Oddy Knocky, the new project from Paul Bowling of Trusty and Glittercore; and Trey Johnson & Jason Willmon, an acoustic-and-harmonica blues duo. This round's winner will join SOULution and Sean Fresh & the Nasty Fresh Band in the Showcase finals, which will be held at Revolution on Friday, Feb. 26.
'EMMETT TILL: THE MURDER THAT SHOCKED THE WORLD'
6 p.m. Sturgis Hall. Free.
Historian Devery Anderson will appear at the Clinton School's Sturgis Hall this week to discuss his new book on one of the most devastating and legendary crimes of the 20th century American South, in which 14-year-old Emmett Till was lynched in Mississippi by a group later acquitted by an all-white Mississippi jury. The incident was galvanizing to the emergent civil rights movement, and has been explored and written about countless times over the years. But as the late Julian Bond wrote in the book's foreword, "You may think, as I did, that you know the totality of this tale, but you will learn much that is new, as I did. That is because Anderson has tracked down every source; read every testimony, description and transcript; interviewed every living witness; and read the memories of the departed." The (Jackson, Miss.) Clarion-Ledger calls it "the most research-intensive and comprehensive book ever produced about the 1955 murder."
7:30 p.m. Reynolds Performance Hall, UCA. $27-$35.
Sinbad was born David Adkins, but after his discharge from the Air Force in the 1980s, he rejected the name in tribute to Sinbad the Sailor, a Persian folk legend who traveled the world battling monsters and accumulating precious jewels. It's a fitting name. He distinguished himself first on the stand-up circuit, and later as a featured player on sitcoms like "A Different World." He got his own show in the early '90s, "The Sinbad Show," but like most children of the '90s, I remember him better for his film roles. There was "Houseguest," in which he impersonated a dentist to escape a debt to the mob, and "Good Burger," in which he played a character named Mr. Wheat, whose car was crushed at the end by an enormous hamburger. Even better, there was Disney's "First Kid," in which he starred as a Secret Service agent forever one step behind the mischievous president's son, and "Jingle All the Way," which remains one of the saddest, truest and angriest Christmas films I've ever seen.
7 p.m. Ron Robinson Theater. $5.
If you've seen the 2012 documentary "Room 237," you know that despite what it claims to be about, Stanley Kubrick's horror classic "The Shining" is actually about the Holocaust, the faking of the Apollo 11 moon landing, the genocide of the Native Americans and the myth of the Minotaur. Among other things! The fact is, this film is gloriously ambiguous in ways that few Hollywood genre efforts are permitted to be. I'm interested in just about anyone's interpretation, except for maybe Stephen King's. (King, who wrote the novel, hated Kubrick's adaptation, presumably because he has awful taste in movies.) It's a Rorschach test, a treatise on the horrors of writer's block, solitude, marriage, alcoholism, childhood and hedge mazes.
BILLY JOE SHAVER
9 p.m. White Water Tavern. $25.
Unlike Willie Nelson, Billy Joe Shaver was never going to record a "Stardust." Unlike Kris Kristofferson, he couldn't act. Of the remaining first-generation outlaw county artists, Shaver is the one who best embodies the ragged, hopeless principles of that moment. He didn't just sing about "Old Five and Dimers," he sang about "Old Five and Dimers Like Me." He was one of them. He lost fingers in a sawmill accident, did stints in the Navy and the rodeo, shot a man outside of a bar in Lorena, Texas. ("Where do you want it?" he supposedly asked the guy.) Waylon Jennings, who has never been accused of either innocence or credulity, recorded a whole album of Shaver's songs because they said what he wanted to say. Bob Dylan once sang that he was "listening to Billy Joe Shaver, and I'm reading James Joyce." It's a great line, because it asserts both the strangeness of that comparison — Shaver and Joyce — and the rightness of it.
'CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND'
7 p.m. Riverdale 10 Cinema. $7.25.
The Arkansas Times Film Series continues Tuesday with a screening of Steven Spielberg's "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," a New Hollywood masterpiece that combines intimate human drama with blockbuster spectacle at its most profound and hypnotic — certain special-effects sequences approach pure visual abstraction, like fireworks. Richard Dreyfuss stars as a man who, following a "close encounter" with a UFO, becomes unhinged in his obsessive search for answers and fulfillment. His life is either derailed or injected with new purpose by the search, depending on your perspective. (The film is stubbornly, admirably ambivalent on this score; the moral questions it poses are unusually complex for an alien epic.) Roger Ebert called it "an astonishing achievement ... one of the great movie-going experiences." The critic Jonathan Rosenbaum called it "the best expression of Spielberg's benign, dreamy-eyed vision," and I'd agree with this: Unlike "Jurassic Park" or "War of the Worlds," in which the inhuman exists only to be shot at, "Close Encounters" is about curiosity and wonder. It's the only alien invasion film I've ever seen more concerned with the cosmic, metaphysical strangeness of the encounter than with the violence that follows it. I first watched it on a small wood-paneled TV at my great-aunt's house in Tampa, Fla. Even there, it seemed bigger and grander than most Hollywood epics, and sadder, too.
8 p.m. Kings Live Music, Conway.
Girlpool is a duo from L.A. made up of college-aged singers Cleo Tucker and Harmony Tividad, who make neurotic, melancholy, percussion-less indie rock that feels fragile and homemade. Their songs are earnest and fraught with self-searching vulnerability, a kind of Lilith Fair-ready intensity reimagined for the generation of Rookie Magazine and "Broad City." They sing about each other, their problems and anxieties. It's a nostalgic and explicitly childlike perspective; their debut album is called "Before the World Was Big." Spin called the record "unflinchingly honest" and Pitchfork said that it "brims with a mysterious power, a charged and palpable sense of hope and awe."