by John Tarpley
7 p.m., Verizon Arena. $25-$89.
n What the hell is Kid Rock going to be this month? Is he going to be Kid Rock, the greasy-haired goon emcee with a blunt of ditch weed in his hat? Is he going to be Kid Rock, the strip mall pimp? "Rock n' roll Jesus?" The wifebeater-clad hick-hopper groaning into a mic, stomping around in front of the stars and bars? Lately he's tried for what looks like "introspective white trash crooner," but for Wednesday's show at Verizon, he'll probably be an unholy union of all the equally gross above. Now, it's not that I want everyone with a guitar to be, say, Leonard Cohen: It's just that when a singer has the capacity to release one of the best, most sublime country duets in recent memory with "Picture" then returns to being the musical equivalent of KFC's Double Down sandwich with D-list strip club anthem "So Hott" and that godforsaken "Werewolves of London"/"Sweet Home Alabama" mashup "All Summer Long," it gets exasperating. Simply put, there are moments that suggest Kid Rock could be the white trash answer to Beck. And I, for one, would love to hear a white trash Beck. Instead, he's content to be another cog in the fast-food music machine, making Bret Michaels look like Jacques Brel.
DIRTY DOZEN BRASS BAND
9 p.m., Revolution. $12 adv., $15 d.o.s.
n Crescent City's most famous and beloved brass band export has become a fairly regular staple on the Revolution stage. In fact, this is its third show in a year and a half. You'll have a hard time finding anyone to complain about it. The Dirty Dozen Brass Band, named after the Dirty Dozen Social and Pleasure Club, has made the transition from one of countless other second-line outfits who buck jump, holler and horn through the streets of New Orleans to world-traveling ambassadors of the New Orleans sound, not to mention an instantly-recognizable face of post-Katrina optimism and positivity. Like so many others, I've seen them more times than I can count and I'm never bored with them. Expect hours of in-your-face, relentless grooves from the usual opening number of "My Feet Can't Fail Me Now" (the title track from their 1984 debut) to the rump-shaking gospels ("I'll Fly Away") and Stevie Wonder covers ("Superstitious"). The seven-piece gets opening support from soul-filled area jam band FreeVerse.
7:30 p.m., Juanita's. $12 adv., $15 d.o.s.
n For 11 years, the Memphis act has enjoyed moderate success touring mid-sized venues and festival circuits around the country, spreading its almost-offensively inoffensive easy pop-rock stylings and lovelorn ballads for a bigger fanbase than one might expect. For most, the name Ingram Hill will elicit a shrug and no bother, but I'm willing to wager my meager tax refund that for every sorority house in the South, there's at least one Greek letter-chested lady who pores over the group's easy-listening sentimentality. It's college rock at its easiest. Think Train, Maroon 5 or OneRepublic rock schmaltz with the lightest dose of Southern edge possible. Guys will probably balk, if not at the music, at their girlfriends swooning along to songs like "Your Smiling Face," "Love is Just a Word" and "Something to Cry To." Spokane, Wash., singer/songwriter Jerad Finck opens the night with more touchy-feely, weepy-smiley tunes about girls.
'THE SECOND ANNUAL MEETING OF THE LITTLE ROCK LEBOWSKI LEAGUE'
6 p.m., Market Street Cinema. $10.
n Year after year, the Coen Brothers make it harder to deny that they are the defining American filmmakers of the last 30 years. And with every Lebowskifest, the case for "The Big Lebowski" as "the Biggest Cult Movie of All-Time" gets a bit stronger. Dressing up? Quoting the movie? Swilling White Russians? Beginner stuff. Case in point: I recently wandered into a small corner store called "The Little Lebowski," full of (and dedicated strictly to) everything Lebowski. Shirts, check. Posters, of course. The Time Magazine "Man of the Year" mirror: awesomely, yes. But what slayed me was a book, thick as The Jesus' bowling ball, called "The Year's Work in Lebowski Studies," a send-up of academia, full of essays from the tongue-in-cheek theory of "Logjammin' and Gutterballs: Masculinities in The Big Lebowski" to dense, Barthes-centric criticism in "Metonymic Hates and Metaphoric Tumbleweeds: Noir Literary Aesthetics in Miller's Crossing and The Big Lebowski" and heady deconstructuction with "The Big Lebowski and Paul de Man: Historicizing Irony and Ironizing Historicism." Expect that kind of passion on display around town this weekend for Little Rock's own Lebowskifest, technically "The 2nd Annual Meeting of the Little Rock Lebowski League." Friday through Sunday, Market Street Cinema opens its doors for screenings of the awesomely warped cartoon-noir at 4 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. with trivia and costume contests on Friday and Saturday. Also on Saturday, a 10 p.m. Lebowski Bowl at Professor Bowl.
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