Pick of the Week

Curated by Nashville artist Joseph Whitt, this gallery show at Ruby Green Contemporary Art Center brings together a disparate group of artists he has gotten to know—a testimony to the kind of trans-local communities that develop as people move through their lives. All are from places other than Nashville, and this is the first showing here for all of them. The works promise to be diverse, from the puppet theater of New Orleans’ Quintron and Miss Pussycat, to dark word-based work by George Kimmerling, to drawings and paintings by Mala Iqbal and Yuko Shimizu. Many of the artists are playing with the social and cultural forms of an environment filled with displacement. Their works deal in narratives, some layered under artifice and irony, others brutally direct; there appears to be little sentimentalism. At the same time, the show feels motivated by the curator’s affection—for these people, for their ideas and work, and for the community in Nashville. He is bringing these artists home like new friends, saying to all of us, “I’ve met these great people, I can’t wait for you to meet them.” There will be an opening, 7-9 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 25, and the show will close with a performance by the Super Madrigal Brothers of Atlanta on Nov. 29.

—David Maddox

Music

Thursday, 23rd

The Presidents Of The United States of America If you thought this Seattle trio vanished after their 1996 single, “Mach 5,” that’s because they pretty much did after breaking up two years later. Measured against the typically short life span of their anthemic, punk-lite compositions, their sudden flare-out suggests a lack of substance. Intentionally quirky humor didn’t help, but besides a knack for applying the arty perversion of the B-52’s to the vital drive of the Ramones, the Presidents made key contributions to punk-pop’s sonic vocabulary. Chris Ballew and Dave Dederer both play guitar-bass hybrids, and their tonal attack captures heaviness and fuzz, yet avoids excess distortion and even breathes—arguably an influence on the next generation of geek-sympathetic “alternative pop” artists, whom they joined when they recently regrouped. Tucker Theatre, MTSU

—Saby Reyes-Kulkarni

Friday, 24th

David Olney and Tom House Tavern poets of the first magnitude, House and Olney keep the Nashville singer-songwriter bar suitably raised. Both are troubadours, most comfortable with just an acoustic guitar between them and their audience, but their subject matter and approach owe as much to rock ’n’ roll swagger and hillbilly angst as they do to the intimate art of storytelling. Olney’s songs use multiple viewpoints to expose the complex nature of love, mortality and duty—subjects that more commercially successful writers usually treat as clichés. House sings in an otherworldly cross between a warble and a yodel that’s as distinctive as it is familiar, sounding something like a Martian Doc Boggs. His odd vocal style combines seamlessly with his shifting guitar rhythms to create an ideal backdrop for his self-effacing songs of love lost and opportunities missed. Radio Cafe

—Paul Griffith

Saturday, 25th

Blues Bash Though it hasn’t enjoyed much presence on the charts since the ’60s, soulful blues retains a sizable audience, particularly among adult African Americans. There’s a thin line between sultry presentation and macho pretension in the music of the male performers featured at this event, each of whom has stepped over that line on occasion, either in concert or on record. Still, even their X-rated fare has a flair that’s often missing from cruder rap tunes. Little Milton is easily the greatest all-around performer in the lineup. Both a delightful, energetic singer and masterful guitarist, he’s responsible for many soulful blues anthems, among them “The Blues Is Alright,” “Grits Ain’t Groceries” and “If Walls Could Talk.” Unfortunately, he’s become such a popular singer that he often leaves his guitar at home. Willie Clayton is the most gospel-influenced of the bunch; he’s a first-rate balladeer, among the best at confessional and sentimental pieces. Tyrone Davis has the deepest, most resonant voice and has made the classy come-on his stock-in-trade. Marvin Sease’s sometimes lewd numbers are part bedroom blues, part after-hours comic monologue, but he’s also a fine straight soul belter. Floyd Taylor is the youngest of the bunch, and his music reflects both his father Johnnie’s gospel/soul influence and the sensibility of someone who grew up hearing funk, urban contemporary music and hip-hop. Municipal Auditorium

—Ron Wynn

Josh Rouse/Leona Naess Nashvillian Rouse tipped his hand about his latest album in the bio that accompanied his 2002 release, Under Cold Blue Stars. “All that 1972 singer-songwriter shit? I just love that stuff,” he wrote. “I’m a closet easy listening fan.” Now comes 1972, which marries Rouse’s often melancholy story lines to familiar and frequently upbeat ’70s styles. An obvious departure from his folk-rock habit, the collection avoids becoming detrimentally derivative. Instead, it’s an expertly arranged vehicle for an examination of characters struggling with loneliness, love, depression and changing times. The album’s title just underscores the fact that those themes and emotions remain as persistent as ever today. Rouse’s transition into hip-swaying pop-soul is countered by the mellowing stylistic shift of co-headliner Naess. Known primarily for radio-friendly pop tunes, this New Yorker has turned her focus to more intimate singer-songwriter material for her self-titled third album. Drum loops and jangly electric guitars have been abandoned for a more straightforward, almost casual approach that features acoustic guitars, drums, piano and strings alongside Naess’ reflections on love and relationships. Strong vocal melodies continue to drive her songs in the new context, and her breathy delivery now makes a more significant impression when backed by restrained production. Exit/In