MIGHTY HIGH

Thursday, Nov. 5
To appreciate reggae, it helps to be mighty high. At least this is what I’ve found during my years of study. I once found myself in a celebratory circle with several Marlene’s employees, and aside from realizing just how annoying the phrase “one love” can become, I learned reggae is a genre most appreciated by those who have jobs that don’t require a urine screening. So, in that sense, Tacoma’s Mighty High seems to have chosen a more than appropriate moniker. Hashing out reggae rooted, Technicolor jams minced with blues ethos — like the child of Peter Tosh and Humble Pie with a trust fund — Mighty High brings Tacoma made island music to the masses. And by masses I mean white college kids with dreadlocks. One love, yo! — Matt Driscoll
[Hell’s Kitchen, with Trip the Light Fantastic, Wheelies, $3, 3829 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.759.6003]
[Doyle’s Public House, Saturday, Nov. 7, 10 p.m., no cover, 208 St. Helens Ave., Tacoma, 253.272.7468]

SORDID SENTINELS

Friday, Nov. 6
Sordid, as defined by Merriam Webster dictionary: 1) marked by baseness or grossness: vile, 2) a: dirty, filthy b: wretched, squalid. Now, while I wouldn’t go as far as to describe South Sound rock band Sordid Sentinels as any of the things the first half of their name implies, I will applaud the foursome for choosing such a charged adjective when it came time for a band name. As our society has proven time and time again, there’s nothing we’re more captivated by than a little sordidness. We practically lap it up like a kitten with a bowl full of cream. Mmmmm. Filth. Coming like a sentry in the night championing the foundation blocks rock was built on — like guitar solos, screaming and chest thumping drums — Sordid Sentinels may have just the “baseness” or “grossness” you’re looking for. Oh, and before you go knocking the name – consider the fact the band’s previous name was Plague Doctor. Sordidness beats the plague any day. — MD
[Bob’s Java Jive, with Shrouded in Veils, Atomic Bride, Siren, 8 p.m., cover TBA, 2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843]

3 INCHES OF BLOOD

Saturday, Nov. 7
Metal has evolved. Apparently there are enough enraged teens to have catapulted a full on pop phenomenon, with new metal bands emerging daily. And, forgive me, most of them suck. Instrumentation is sloppy, riffs are tired and repetitive, and grooves are barren. Even the rage, the heart of it all, seems staged. But there is hope. And you can find it on a tour of new work by Vancouver’s 3 Inches of Blood, a Tacoma staple and one of the best things to happen to metal in a long while. With an upcoming show at Hell’s Kitchen, and the recent tragic loss of former 3 Inches bass player Brian Redman, the time to appreciate this band has never been better. 3 Inches of Blood are tight, brutal and as on-point as ever. Redman, wherever he is, must be proud. — Paul Schrag
[Hell’s Kitchen, with The Jet City Fix, Glimpse, Monuments Collide, 9 p.m., $10 suggested donation goes to the family of Brian Redman, 3829 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.759.6003] 

THE LITTLE PENGUINS

Saturday, Nov. 7
Professionalism in pop is something you never miss until a band comes along and smacks you in the face with it. The Little Penguins is one of those bands; they make you remember that local acts needn’t be all fuzz and skuzzy attitude. They can sound like big-name bands, too. The Cure and the Smiths, in particular, are names that come to mind when listening to The Little Penguins’ slick pop-rock compositions. Singer Will Hallauer’s voice, all tremble and resignation, along with each song’s exploding chorus gives your ears a double take as you try to remember whether the band charted in the ‘90s. When The Little Penguins play with the Nightgowns at Bob’s Java Jive, it’ll be a summit of bands that threaten to take over the world. — Rev. Adam McKinney
[Bob’s Java Jive, with The Nightgowns, Erik Blood, $7, 2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843]