I'm forever fascinated by bands that sound good on paper in a way that doesn't always translate sonically. For example, words used to describe John Coltrane are similar to those used in describing the Grateful Dead, but the two sound completely different. So this has been my dilemma for the past 10 years or so. It's like describing colors to the blind.

I interviewed Ian Downey a few weeks back and really dug his overall anti-stance toward music. I'd seen his band before and appreciated its adherence to chaos and non-conformity. Downey's solo set warming up for Marnie Stern at the Bug Jar Wednesday night was everything music needs to be, like it or not. It was shrill, harsh, ugly, beautiful, sublime, antagonistic, exciting, inciting, and raw -- a big shovelful of What The Fuck. The guy standing next to me likened it to being stabbed in the head, and my wife would have punched me in he face if I had dragged her along. But I saw it more as simultaneous construction/destruction. And though it seemed impromptu, Downey is more calculating than that. His riffs were measured -- especially the quasi-Sabbath one toward the end -- and his acoustic forays were by contrast pleasant, and whole lot more palatable than a lot of that warbling, wailing coffee house clatter.

Anticipation was ratcheted up by the time New York City pretty Stern hit the stage. Stern's playing is extremely percussive, but offers a lot more groove. Yeah, she's the mommy-o of the arpeggio, but the way her patterns set the tone and lay beneath her vocals is way cool and exciting. Her riffs rocked righteously, but it wasn't just riffs. Think Robert Fripp or Adrian Belew with more edge. And blonde.