Black Keys (6-7:15p, Budweiser)
Six albums in and the Black Keys still hold a big brass key in their four hands, the one that unlocks blues-rock mystery the same way it canoodles with your sister and you don’t even care. The Akron, Ohio duo is that in name only, too: as I asked in the Village Voice recently, “How do they do it? Is the rest of their band actually virtuosic ghosts?” And that’s because guitarist-vocalist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney so adeptly and without trouble move past the admittedly finite conventions of the music they’ve chosen to explore. (Having the blues and effectively conveying that dynamically are two different things.) Bringing Danger Mouse in as producer and head noodler is one thing. But that was for 2008 and Attack & Release. With Brothers, their latest, the Keys don’t need much more than themselves and the bustle of the legendary studio Muscle Shoals. From the coiled swagger of “Next Girl” through the boogie of “Tighten Up” and “Sinister Kid” (“Your mother don’t pay our bills!”), expect Black Keys to melt butter and churn up the heat at this early evening gig. Two dudes? It’s their magic potion.
Chromeo (7-8p, Adidas Mega)
Like the Black Keys, Chromeo have pretty consistently found ways to fuck with the paradigm they’re working with. Dollar store electro funk with overtones of kitschy sex and every keyboard tone from the entire Me Decade is a pretty limited milieu, but if Chromeo aren’t its champion progenitors, I’ll eat my hat. Dave-1 and P-Thugg broke through in 2007 with Fancy Footwork (bomb track: “Tenderoni“), and for their new record Business Casual, now slated for a September release through Atlantic, they should be able to replicate and expand on their particular hot mess. (Hit up their blog to check the pretty funny video for sashaying first single “Don’t Turn the Lights On,” plus the album art.) And speaking of hot messes, as de facto openers for Lady Gaga go, you could do worse than two guys from Montreal who regularly incorporate a modernized talk box into their jams and seem to believe that sexing through the ages has had quite a bit to do with goofy riffs on repression, androgyny and spilling cocktails down the front of your shirt.