Hailed as "four Lockport white boys," the monthly Twangoff battle of the bands recent semi-final winners Dizzle are at it again. A self-proclaimed combination between Foo Fighters and the Dave Matthews Band, the four Caucasian guitar playing rockers are hitting the mean streets of Chicago once more. These mysterious men, from a town that is neither a lock nor a port, have been quoted as saying, "If it rocks, we like it." And rock they shall. In an age of synthesizers, tight pants and relentless syncopated drums, this troupe of merry four (or five) chord-strummers just might rock your face hard enough to keep your snooty mind off postmodern thought or how old your t-shirt is, and instead focus it on good times and just one more beer. It’s the American way, dammit. And so are these Dizzle fellows. (Appearing with Leadfoot and Lonsway-Malow as part of the Twangoff Year-End Finals at Martyrs' on April 20) --text: Billy Kenefick

I’ll admit that the first time I heard Rhett Miller’s, "Our Love" from 2002’s The Instigator, I was more than a little bit intrigued by the polished splendor and immediacy of it all. Not exactly Ziggy Stardust, but more invigorating than I’d care to admit. With Miller's Old 97’s back in hiatus, Rhett offers up his second major label solo effort titled The Believer. Again the music is buffed and burnished, with the help of producer George Drakoulias (Tom Petty/Black Crowes), and chock full of crackling and jangly guitars – but perhaps lacking the swagger and sheen that made his solo debut so magnetic. A few power choruses later, you may find yourself more comfortable with the fact that superstardom has somehow eluded Rhett Miller. Appealing to both the pill-popping burgundy velvets as well as the booze-fueled denim ass-kicking contingent, the quiet spectacle that is Rhett Miller appears to be spreading himself as thin as sweet butter at Uncle Nemo’s. (Appearing at the Park West on April 20) --text: Kevin Klein--photo: Mark Seliger

For musicians that exploit electronics as the foundation of their sound, Parts and Labor have managed to avoid being labeled as a typical noise rock band – making it easy for anyone with a heart for distortion to find something of interest in their beautifully layered post-hardcore sound. Now deflecting even further away from the noise genre, Parts and Labor elevate their sound with vocals that stimulate a jarring enthusiasm found only in the ghosts of punk rock. While experimental in practice, Parts and Labor take that method to a whole new level of acceptance. They make it accessible for the pop-sick to appreciate their righteous command of melody without even coming close to making pop music – or following any of its established guidelines. In the end, Parts and Labor can always be trusted for one thing, and that’s a spastic live show surging with energy almost too explosive for the senses. (Appearing with Wilderness and Lichens at Empty Bottle on April 16) --text: Cliff Berru--photo: Todd Seelie

It was almost five years ago when the Swedes shook up the American music scene with releases by the Hives, the Soundtrack of Our Lives, and this band, the Sounds. There was a revival of almost every single musical genre from the past 30 years, ranging from new-new wave to garage rock revival. Rock songs had people dancing to a steady beat again, and on the band’s debut Living In America, the Sounds scored big — fueled greatly by their single "Seven Days A Week." Now, with a new album just released titled Dying To Say This To You, the Sounds are back on the road for a 34-city run through the U.S. On stage, this band pulls no punches. The Sounds work up a sexy sweat with singer Maja Ivarsson leading the way, working the crowd like a sensual dominatrix. (Appearing with Morningwood and Action Action at Metro on April 20) --text: Chris Castaneda

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