"History is always happening" at Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site
7:30 p.m., Reynolds Performance Hall, UCA. $30-$40.
Decades ago, Rich Little found himself at a private fund-raiser in Richard Nixon's backyard. Little's stateside success was due in large part to his impersonation of the disgraced, so, as you would expect, the famous mimicker was pretty much obligated to sing for his supper and launch into a poolside impersonation of the host. He offered up his best Nixon mumble, people laughed, and Nixon just shrugged off the comedian with a Tricky Dick fart face. The Canadian "Man of a Thousand Voices" has spent half a century as a comedy icon, lampooning politicians and movie stars. And over those 50 years, he's accumulated a repertoire of over 200 impersonations, from the My First Imitation standards (JFK and Elvis) to the unreasonably archaic (Van Heflin? Foster Brooks?). Sure, it would be easy to mock the mocker: Mimicry is a holdover cheese act that inspires the same antipathy that Nixon did, but don't load up on old tomatoes quite yet. The Emmy-winning "Man of a Thousand Voices" is to impersonations as Chuck Berry is to rock 'n' roll. He's been outdated since before a lot of us were born, but we'll take him over Dane Cook any day.
9 p.m., Revolution. $10 adv., $15 d.o.s.
I'm never going to learn my lesson. Every single time I go to a music store, I'll absentmindedly pluck at a few guitars or poke at a keyboard while waiting for the right time to dart off toward the sequencers and drum machines. Inevitably, I end up annoying the employees as just another in a long, annoying line of clumsy, beat-illiterate white dudes who maybe, possibly, one day could churn out something listenable on blink-y, button-y doodads if only we had as much rhythm as dumb-ass ambition. Eliot Lipp, on the other hand, is the guy we all want to be. Since 2004, the young Brooklynite has been squeezing a blend of proto-house and '90s hip-hop out of two tables full of vintage, analog equipment. Think Ratatat getting blunted with Madlib in a basement loaded with all the buttons and knobs you don't know how to use. Even better, his songs are obscenely catchy. (Check out "Homework" and "The Area" on YouTube.) He's joined by Ana Sia, a dreamy DJ from San Francisco whose glitched-out take on dubstep wobble goes harder than most of the boys'.
7:30 p.m., Robinson Center Music Hall. $30-$90.
Let's be nice. David Garrett is an amazing violinist. A prodigy defined, even. Born in Germany, he took to the instrument at the age of 5, studying at one of the country's finest conservatories before heading to London's Royal College of Music and, soon after, graduating from Juilliard, where he studied under Itzhak freaking Perlman. He's one of the world's fastest violinists, able to execute 13 notes in a single second. And, just to prove that gifts are never parceled out evenly, he has supermodel good looks, which must have come in handy when he worked as a supermodel. Now, let's be real. David Garrett is another cheese-ball metal classicist, cock-rocking in fog and strobe lights to shred AC/DC and Michael Jackson on a Stradivarius. His takes on Debussy and Bizet are fine, if not robotic, but the rock repertoire that looks like your junior high Napster library is why he's here. And that gaudy rock shtick fills every inch in the spectrum between annoying and unlistenable. Slip this one in the "Who Asked for This?" file, right between the third "Big Momma's House" movie and that "no headphones on pedestrians" bill that bombed last week in the legislature. That said, if you know a youngster who needs a little kick-start to get them into violin, this could be your ticket.
Congratulations Tara, beautifully written!