THENEWYORKER,SEPTEMBER23, 2019 7
ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN F. MALTA
In what has to be some sort of nostalgia-induced fever dream, the
pop-punk trio Blink-182 teams up with the rapper Lil Wayne for a fas-
cinating night of hits. It seems an unlikely pairing: a merry band of
troublemakers, best known for their prepubescent sense of humor and
their postpubescent angst, meet a mercurial rhymer, best known for his
slippery wordplay and staggering prolificacy. But their shared tongue is
punk—not just in gesture (fashion, skateboarding) or genre (that one
time Wayne released a rock album) but in their commitment to warped
subversion by making genuine music couched in degeneracy. Both Blink-
182 and Lil Wayne have survived being written off simply by doubling
down on the shamelessness that made them objects of reverence and
side-eyes. At the Barclays Center, on Sept. 20, they bask in cultural
immortality.—Briana Younger
POP-PUNKANDHIP-HOP
1
NIGHTLIFE
Musicians and night-club proprietors lead
complicated lives; it’s advisable to check in
advance to confirm engagements.
Kimya Dawson
The Market Hotel
Many people remember the plainspoken ten-
derness of Kimya Dawson from her work on the
soundtrack for the film “Juno,” from 2007, and
as part of the beloved anti-folk duo the Moldy
Peaches. The singer and guitarist has continued
stacking up a quiet but impressive collection of
acoustic-driven solo projects that capture her
unfiltered, stream-of-consciousness approach to
writing. Her voice remains so warm and wistful
that it can both comfort and pulverize your
heart at the same time.—Julyssa Lopez (Sept. 18.)
Heathered Pearls
Public Records
You can glean just which sort of dance-music
classicism the Ann Arbor-born producer Jakub
Alexander, who works as Heathered Pearls,
espouses from the title of his four-song re-
lease “Detroit, MI 1997-2001,” from 2017.
With each track named for an iconic local
party spot—“The Packard Plant,” “Under the
Bridge”—the EP’s bendable bass lines and
echo-laced synth pads uncannily call up the
musty minimalism of the city and that era with-
out aping its sticky R. & B.-flavored house and
pointillist techno. As a d.j., Alexander mines a
similar palette.—Michaelangelo Matos (Sept. 19.)
Houston Person
Jazz Standard
You don’t come to Houston Person in search
of innovation; you merely bask in a surplus of
old-school warmth and melodic charm and in a
generosity of tone that emanates from precious
few saxophonists of any age. For this outing, the
eighty-four-year-old tenor master likely dips
into the blues-drenched ballads that make up
his characteristic new album, “I’m Just a Lucky
So and So.”—Steve Futterman (Sept. 19-22.)
Ellen Allien
BASEMENT
The German d.j. and musician Ellen Allien
has authored one of dance music’s most formi-
dable catalogues, releasing eight full albums
and a soundtrack in just under two decades.
Her titles “Berlinette,” from 2003, and “Or-
chestra of Bubbles,” a collaboration with
her compatriot Apparat, from 2007, remain
some of the most instantly accessible techno
around. In May, she released “Alientronic,”
which evokes the dirty, analog sound of the
genre during the early nineties—a first for
her.—M.M. (Sept. 20.)
Tinariwen
Webster Hall
For two decades, Tinariwen, the marquee
musical export of the nomadic Tuareg peo-
ple of North Africa, has been hypnotizing
Western audiences with its trippy Saharan
guitars. Though the band’s story is one of
high drama—warfare, exile, Qaddafi—its
music maintains a sense of cool that could
shame any balladeer who has ever wept over a
busted romance. The group recorded its new
LP, “Amadjar,” while convoying through the
desert in the wake of a sandstorm, lending the
album a naturalistic air that’s highly medita-
tive yet salted with portent.—Jay Ruttenberg
(Sept. 21.)
Claire Daly Quartet
Smalls
The subterranean baritone saxophone is a bear
of a horn; to coax gruff beauty from its guts
takes a musical poet like Claire Daly. When
all cylinders are charged, Daly, who leads a
quartet that features the pianist Jon Davis,
calls to mind such paragons as Gerry Mulligan
and Serge Chaloff.—S.F. (Sept. 22.)
Cross Record
Trans-Pecos
Let other young artists wait tables. Emily
Cross, who croons ethereal laments as Cross
Record, recently turned to the mother of
all day jobs: a death doula, who aids people
nearing the end. She also performs “living
funeral” ceremonies for daring participants
who crave a glimpse of what lies beyond. Her
music reflects her occupation, with vocally
driven songs so soothing they turn unsettling.
You can hear Cross Record at Trans-Pecos—or
watch the singer conduct a living funeral,
See You
New Ohio
If Sartre were to write a play in our age of social
media, he might end up somewhere in the realm
of the Bridge Production Group’s fascinating
“See You.” The show, directed by Max Hunter,
with text by Guillaume Corbeil (translated from
the French by Steven McCarthy), is less a play
than an experiment in the empty, disingenuous
parlance of Internet-speak. A group of unnamed
acquaintances spit out caption-size descriptions
of their exploits, as documented online—parties
with celebrities, jaunts around the world—but
the stylized bramble of Insta-approved language
is manic, overwhelming, and purposely inconse-
quential. The conceit of the play, that our online
façades mask despair, insecurity, and, worse,
nothingness, is clear from the start, and the play’s
breathless delivery of its cynical raison d’être is
as unrelenting as a Twitter feed, losing track
of anything human.—M.P. (Through Sept. 21.)
