Komo is reporting that two people are now hospitalized after a shooting near the Club X nightclub in Sodo:
SEATTLE - A man and woman are hospitalized with life-threatening injuries after they were hit by gunfire in a disturbance early Sunday outside a SoDo nightclub.
Police responded to the scene, in the 1900 block of 1st Avenue South, at about 3:30 a.m. after receiving a report of shots fired and a victim on the ground.
When officers arrived, both gunshot victims had already been taken to Harborview Medical Center in personal vehicles, said Detective Jeff Kappel of the Seattle Police Department.
This is the second weekend in a row a shooting has occurred outside a Sodo club. Last weekend a sailor was fatally shot on the 2900 block of First Ave.
So far there aren't many details about last night's shooting. You can read the full story here.
Whitney was so undeniably talented. None of the pop singers today could sing the National Anthem like she did. No contest. And while it's tempting to go back and look at her Bobbi Brown years, it's in poor taste. She seemed so sweet, but powerless against so many of the creeps (cough, Serge Gainsbourg). It is fair to say, "Whitney, I'm so sorry you lost the boyfriend lottery."
Falling in love is bittersweet.
Tower of Power
(Jazz Alley) See Thursday.
Glitterbang, the Blind Photographers, Terabyte & the Battery Eaters
(Comet) To honor the recent passing of Soul Train's Don Cornelius, everybody should pick a night, at least once a week, to go out and dance. I think sometimes we as a Northwestern people forget the importance of dancing. I know when it rains, I don't feel like moving, even though it's probably the sunniest thing I could do for myself. And while there's hundreds of excellent DJ nights in this city, we should also pay attention to local bands and to our newish local electro-pop scene. Northwest bands like YACHT, Secret Shoppers, and my favorite duo, the Bonjour-jeans-wearing Glitterbang, really want nothing more than to make you (finally) dance again. KELLY O

Following news of Whitney's death today, sources initially reported that Ray was the one who had found the singer dead. Ray J's rep later refuted those allegations.
Rumors swirled about the two as early as 2007. Despite the 17-year age difference, they were seen at industry gatherings like Jay-Z and LeBron James' All-Star game party as well as romantic dinners in Los Angeles at hot spots like Crustacean. They would be on-again/off-again for several years and the relationship would be riddled with gossip involving their respective exes.
I invited you because I long for a voice of reason, but look at you. You're going to take a bite out of a small mirror and bleed all over everyone. Fortunately the only other thing I long for is pad thai.
The AP is reporting that Whitney Houston is dead, at age 48. There are lots of contenders, but this is my favorite Whitney Houston song. If I were a woman with this kind of range, it would be my favorite karaoke song by a mile:
VISUAL ART
If you do one thing today, DO THIS.
Mux Mool, Danny Corn, Ghost Feet, DJAO, Hooker
(Chop Suey) See Data Breaker.
Tower of Power
(Jazz Alley) See Thursday.
Brad Paisley, the Band Perry, Scotty McCreery
(Tacoma Dome) There are a few things that will forever retain the ability to make me cry. Dolly Parton's dead-dog anthem "Cracker Jack." Cloris Leachman's performance in the final scene of The Last Picture Show. And a handful of moments scattered across Brad Paisley's 2009 album American Saturday Night. Part of it is where I'm from: Having grown up in emotionally stoic West Texas, I respond to openhearted displays of emotion by good ol' straight boys with almost instantaneous mistiness. When such displays are paired with the wit and concision found in the best of Paisley's songs—American Saturday Night's pro-melting-pot title track, pro-progress anthem "Welcome to the Future," and lifelong love song "Then" (all of which flirt openly with mawkishness and win)—I become nothing but liquid. Bring Kleenex. DAVID SCHMADER
People get way too drunk at my parties, so instead of providing liquor I’m going to glue some hair to a toilet, and guests can take turns shaving it off. It will be just like that scene in The Graduate where Dustin Hoffman attacks everyone with a giant crucifix, in that no one will be blacked out.
British online zine The Quietus has a good interview up now with Seattle violinist/viola, tuba and erhu player Eyvind Kang. A fixture in international avant-garde/improv/drone circles, he’s performed with Sunn O))), John Zorn, Laurie Anderson, Animal Collective, Secret Chiefs 3, Alvarius B, Six Organs of Admittance, Bill Frisell, Beck, and many others.
Kang’s music is marked by its delicate, intricate beauty, rich drone tapestries, and profound spirituality. My favorite Kang release is Live Low to the Earth in the Iron Age, a new kind of Scandinavian-Asian soul music (Kang is part Icelandic. Danish, and Korean). His latest album for Mike Patton's Ipecac imprint, The Narrow Garden, came out Jan. 31 (I've only heard a fraction of Visible Breath, another new release on Ideologic Organ). Garden sounds like impossibly rarefied court music composed by someone with roots in several different places and who has deep empathy for all. It’s freshly ancient.
I just saw something awesome from Questlove on XXL regarding the making of that track I was talking about:
The day after he recorded “Think Twice,” for Welcome to Detroit, I look at the drum set, and I was like, “Wait, you recorded that on this?” And it was the most dingiest, dirtiest, not even second-hand. [It] looked like the Fat Albert junkyard gang drum set. Screws were missing; some of the heads were broken. Matter of fact, he didn’t even use real drumsticks on “Think Twice.” He used a vibraphone mallet, and he had a broken drumstick that he got some toilet paper from the bathroom, and some rubber bands. I was like, “You would rather go through this MacGuyver shit than buy new drumsticks?” He’s like, “I didn’t know where to get ’em this late at night; I had to make due.” I was like, “Well, why did you hit the drums with the mallet?” He was like, “I didn’t want the dynamic to be too aggressive. I wanted to sound muted, so I decided to play the drums with the soft cotton mallet.” It looked like putting a marshmallow at the end of a toothpick [Laughs].
Even if we ain't got the proper equipment, there's no need to sacrifice the spice in our lives.
(Man, for the headline, I almost just typed "SPURM Blows It's Final Load: The Money Shot") Err-hmpt... TONIGHT! Longtime local band of saxo-freak party punks SPURM are playing their last ever show. It's sad, I know, but they promise to leave with a bang, and they've released a final EP just so you won't miss them too much. I'm told ex-members Shig Khawaja, and Gary Smith of Partman Parthorse will join the set, and the whole lineup tonight is A+ stacked to make you have a good time. GO TO THIS SHOW. I mean it!
SPURM, with Unnatural Helpers, Uzi Rash (members of Trashies) and Wimps (members Butts, Intelligence, Consignment) @ Black Lodge, 9:30 pm, $8.

This week, I watched two new punk-rock documentaries, both available on DVD, which offer an interesting study in contrasts. The Other F Word revolves around punk-rock fathers, while Last Fast Ride centers on a punk-rock provocateur…who also happened to be a mother. Women directed both films, which are set primarily in California in the 1990s, but the similarities start to fall away at that point.
I didn't expect to enjoy Andrea Blaugrund Nevins' feature-film debut, The Other F Word, because I have no interest in bands like NOFX and Blink-182, and nor do I have a vested interested in parenthood.* Granted, I've always found the parent-child relationship fascinating, but too many filmmakers have a hard time illuminating the complexities. That isn't a problem for this director, who's gathered up a particularly forthcoming combination of subjects, including bass player Flea (Fear, Red Hot Chili Peppers), singer Ron Reyes (Black Flag), and singer/author Jim Lindberg (Pennywise), whose memoir, Punk Rock Dad, inspired the project.
*Not counting my own parents, who certainly took a vested interest in me...for better or worse.
The alter ego of the Naturebot—aka Ian Scot Price, a mainstay in Seattle's abstract-electronic-music ecosphere and boss of the razor-sharp Pleasure Boat label—Young Silky has a new joint for aiding your bedroom athletics. Not many IDM geeks have the ability to craft chilled R&B come-ons, but Young Silky kind of nails it here with “Baby Back to Bed.” This is luscious, low-lit sonic seduction somewhere between Prince at his "Do Me Baby” dewiest and Ween at their most glow-mantic ("Springtheme"). Tongue-on-ass-cheek brilliance.
I think I've been watching that awful reality TV show, Cheaters, too much.
Okay, so my interest ain't 'cause'a Cheaters, "Please Leave Me" gets a LOT of play where I go to dance! A right stormer, as they say...
Drake & The En-Solids were a Chicago soul group...um, Morgan Park to be exact, however beyond that I got ZILCH, so I'll let Soul Treats take it away....
Drake & The En-Solids had a few records out on Bill Meeks´small label, Alteen, in the late 60s early 70s. This is to be me the finest one of them {sic}. Meeks (I believe) made his career through producing radiojingles, which makes sense since he then have all the connections with musicians and arrangers that he would need for his Alteen enterprise.
I kinda hate that most kickass rare-ish 45s, are from groups who are basically unknown, but still they're a single thread in the rope that binds it all together.
Tomorrow night the Where's the Band tour is coming to the Tractor, featuring early-2000s emo-pop heart-throbs Matt Pryor of the Get Up Kids, Chris Conley of Saves the Day, Anthony Raneri of Bayside, and Ace Enders of the Early November.
Want to go for free? We have a pair of tickets to give away! To enter, just send your first and last name to freetickets@thestranger.com with Matt Pryor in the subject line.
The show is tomorrow night, so a winner will be picked later this afternoon. HURRY! Ticket are also still available via Ticketweb.com.
Ron Wood Could Have Been In Led Zeppelin According to Ron Wood: But the Faces/Rolling Stones guitarist didn't want to join "a bunch of farmers."
Tuba Raids: Authorities in Southern California believe a string of tuba thefts from local school music departments is a result of the increasing popularity of Mexican Banda music in the region.
Madonna Stalker at Large: In extremely disturbing news, a man who broke into Madonna's house in 1996 and threatened to cut her throat has escaped from a mental health facility.
Stream the Screaming Females Single: Over at RollingStone.com, and make sure to check out these guys (they're like a less art-school Yeah Yeah Yeahs with more shredding) if they ever make it out to Seattle.
Ty Segall Announces New Albums: There will be two new ones in the next six months (along with a White Fence collaboration) as revealed in an interview with the scuzz rocker.
Jake Clemens to Replace Clarence Clemons: The departed Big Man's nephew will handle Sax duties for Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band's next tour. In related Boss news, he's got a new video that premiered today for "We Take Care of Our Own," from the upcoming album.
Quick, If You Started a Boutique Record Label Today, Who Would You Sign First?: If you're Adam Levine of Maroon 5 and NBC's The Voice, the answer is the guy who plays the main teacher in Glee.
You Know I Like Dancing Wit Chu: Poor Lita Ford, in a song about how much she likes dancing and kissing someone, for the video she just gyrates and slithers all alone (excluding her guitar, a few enormous ice cubes, and the backing band that appears to be miles away). Other than that, this has always been a good end-of-the-work-week jam for me and I hope you dig it too.