To-Do List, Nov. 19 




7 p.m., Verizon Arena. $46.75-$61.75.


“First they told me that we were going to have to wear ice skates, but they relented,” Kevin Cronin joked by phone last month. “It's going to be a different type of performance.” No doubt. And not one that demographically screams Arkansas. The gist: World-champion ice skaters — like Brian Boitano and Elvis Stojko — offer a holiday-themed program, while '80s radio champs REO Speedwagon and Rick Springfield provide a live soundtrack, all while NBC films for a special that'll air the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Which means that if Cronin flubs the lyrics to “Winter Wonderland” or Boitano misses on a triple lutz, the audience gets a repeat performance until they get it right enough for producers. But, hey, you might be on national TV on a sleepy Sunday, when everyone else is watching football (3 p.m.-5 p.m.). Look for Springfield and REO Speedwagon to do a mix of hits and seasonal favorites. LM.




9 p.m., Revolution. $15.

All right, folks. This cat can make it rain, shine, snow, hail and gust — all in the same song. Musicians may already have deeper awareness of Kimock's stellar 30-year-plus resume and credentials and should force the unfamiliar out to this show at knifepoint if necessary. Known for impressive work in groups such as Zero, Rhythm Devils and a previous band under his name, Kimock brings his latest project, Crazy Engine, to town. Just because he's among jam bands' original gangsters, don't let the ‘jam' handle sour your curiosity. He's joined by Melvin Seals on B-3 organ; his son, John Morgan Kimock, on drums; and bassist Janis Wallin and two female vocalists, Cheryl Rucker and Shirley Starks. These names may not signify too much now, but they will by this time on Saturday. PP.



FRIDAY 11/20



7 p.m., Verizon Arena. $30.25.


This one should draw a festive crowd, given Brown's widespread popularity and songs that feel considerably more natural and genuine than the standard Nashville factory product. That a crew such as Brown's killed at this year's Bonnaroo gives testament to his wide appeal. His act is not simply one persona backed by hired ghosts, but rather a six-piece band closing in on nearly a decade together, which may be hardly surprising considering Brown's birth order is 11 out of 12.  But aside from wrecking the charts, he's also reportedly begun work as a philanthropist and humanitarian, using income from his current album, “The Foundation,” to assist a non-profit organization described as an “all-inclusive children's camp that will teach diversity, freedom, teamwork, social justice, nutritional awareness, liberty and life skills as well as music and art.” High fives for Zac. PP.







11:21 a.m., War Memorial Stadium. $45.


Things are looking up in Hogland. Our quarterback is obliterating school passing records. Our defense isn't terrible. And most importantly, we're bowl-eligible for the first time under Petrino (see a fuller analysis in Sooie, page 34). But contentment is not something that comes easy to Razorback fans. Ryan Mallet needs a 500-yard five-touchdown game (why wait until next season to mount a Heisman campaign?). Our defense needs to go one game without giving up a big play. And lest we end up in the Papajohns.com or whatever-the-hell bowl, we need to win these next two games. You can do your part by tailgating when the sun comes up and hollering louder than a cowbell. The game's sold out, but that never stopped anyone who really wanted to go. After all, the Cotton Bowl's calling. LM.




9 p.m., Revolution. $25 adv., $30 d.o.s.


Texan Pat Green spent the late ‘90s touring relentlessly and self-releasing albums, building up a strong regional fan base and selling more than 200,000 albums without major-label support. With a sound somewhere in between that of home-state heroes Robert Earl Keen and Jerry Jeff Walker and the arena pop of bands like Hootie and the Blowfish, Green became a juggernaut in the college scene. When he signed to Universal in 2001, he appeared to be on the road to superstardom. Five albums and eight years later, he's still dancing between regional and national success, but in these parts, he's unquestionably a big deal. And on Razorback gameday, shew, better get your tickets early. LM.



9 p.m., Sticky Fingerz. $15.


The Crescent City is known for harvesting its own flavor of swamp-boogie funk, voodoo blues and traditional Dixieland jazz roots. But combine those three and the result is truly original. Dirty Dozen Brass Band is gonna inject a shot of groove straight into a venue and turn it into a rump-shaking festival, especially combined with the post-Hog crowd certain to be in the area. Even though there are only nine members in its lineup, the band sounds like a full-bore marching platoon from the moment it launches into the opening number, which often is the title track to its 1984 debut album “My Feet Can't Fail Me Now.” Established in 1977, DDBB has been a guiding influence on New Orleans brass acts since. If you want three decades of culture, history and badass Big Easy sounds rolled up and twisted tight, make plans for this one. Longtime local favorites Freeverse set the mood in the opening slot. Be there. PP.


SUNDAY 11/22



7 p.m., The Village. $22.


Reason number 376 that the apocalypse is drawing nigh: Insane Clown Posse, the Detroit rap duo famous for painting their faces like evil clowns, carrying the torch for horrorcore (dark, largely horrifying subject matter) and spraying Faygo soda on its fans at concerts, pulls in up to $10 million annually. That spit-your-coffee-out-mid-sentence revelation comes courtesy of a recent Detroit Free Press article released not long after “Bang! Pow! Boom!,” the group's 11th album, peaked at number four on the Billboard 200. The report details the rap duo's empire — an artist-owned label, an annual festival that draws up to 20,000 fans, wrestling exhibitions, comic books, features films, a twice weekly Web radio show — without examining the most provocative part of it. Who's buying all this shit? Or rather who are the thousands of ICP fans who call themselves Juggalos and Juggalettes, rap/sing along to bad lyrics mostly about behaving badly, paint their faces and occupy a disturbing chunk of online real estate? Your guess is as good as mine, but I bet they fill up the Village. LM.







9 p.m., Sticky Fingerz. $7.


It's the 10th edition of Sticky Fingerz' Wild Turkey Wigout, an annual pre-Thanksgiving get-down, where the club gives away some turkeys and everyone gets cozy with family and friends in town for the holiday. After an appearance at CMJ in New York earned them nice plugs from Paste magazine and elsewhere and a last minute gig at Midtown last weekend, Chris Denny and the Natives make their first big local club appearance. Next up, the plan is to release an album on Partisan early next year and more touring. If you haven't seen them lately, you're likely to be bowled over. The juice of touring nationally and a new record deal has the band sounding punchier than ever. Dawes, a band Denny and the Natives met on a recent tour, shares the bill. The California quartet plays a meditative brand of folk-rock that should fit right in. LM.





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