Live: Music Picks July 14-20 

Eagles of Death Metal, Buckethead, Kimock and more

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Toad the Wet Sprocket

Last summer, I came out as a Toad the Wet Sprocket fan. Not that it was a secret; I've written about them for a few different publications, including this one. But even if it wasn't a revelation, it was oddly empowering—especially since at least two of my editors have told me that the Santa Barbara foursome behind hits like "All I Want" and "Walk on the Ocean" give them explosive diarrhea. And friends of mine have variously opined on the whininess of Glen Phillips' vocals, or the band's general dorkiness. Well, they're all correct: Toad the Wet Sprocket are geeks (they're named for a fake band from a Monty Python skit), one of whom can sound a bit whiny—but only when he sings with his head voice. Plus Phillips and co-frontguy/songwriter Todd Nichols craft songs that are whip-smart, wry, introspective, thought-provoking, intimate and catchy. That includes the material on New Constellation (Abe's, 2013), their first new album in 16 years. If you're not a fan, give them a shot. If, for whatever reason, you still can't stomach them ... that's cool. There's an army of dorks out there who can. (RH) Sandy Amphitheater, 1245 E. 9400 South, 8 p.m., $15-$25,

Lyle Lovett and His Large Band, Emmylou Harris
For fans of music, not just country music, this is the pairing of your dreams. Lyle Lovett and His Large Band—which has, in the past and present, boasted such talent as mandolin hero Sam Bush, guitar god Jerry Douglas and singers "Sweet Pea" Atkinson, Sir Harry Bowens (both of Was Not Was) and Francine Reed—put on a show full of brilliant songs and musicianship, as well as Lovett's stories, told in his signature low, measured voice. Curiously, little information as to the current makeup of the Large Band is online. But know, at least, that Lovett's Large Band is like Prince's Revolution, or New Power Generation—it's a no-poser zone. Joining him is co-headliner Emmylou Harris who, even at 69, still possesses a bewitching, mellifluous voice that brings her songs—and those of legendary singer-songwriters like John Hiatt, Steve Earle, Neil Young, Gram Parsons or Gillian Welch—to vivid, full-color life. Making tonight even more special is the fact that, although Lovett and Harris are touring all summer, they're only doing nine of these co-bills. (RH) Snow Park Outdoor Amphitheater, 2250 Deer Valley Drive South, Park City, 6:30 p.m., $45,



When he emerged from where-fuckin'-ever in 1988, Buckethead—at face value—seemed like a joke. Was this masked man with a KFC bucket on his head a PETA creation meant to juxtapose the horror of Halloween slasher Michael Myers with the slaughter of so many clucking, strutting birds? Another in a long line of musicians hoping a gimmick will maximize their career mileage? Both? As soon as he started playing, however, the jokes stopped. Or, at least, they dropped off dramatically when this mysterious mofo turned out to be, you know, ridiculously gifted. Which made him extra-crispy weird ... but also extra cool. What kind of person demands anonymity after spending so much time mastering his craft? Who doesn't want acknowledgement for their work, not to mention the attendant celebrity spoils? Well, after nearly 300 releases under his own name—and dozens more with his 22 side projects like, I dunno, Guns 'N Roses, Praxis and Colonel Claypool's Bucket O' Bernie Brains—it's safe to say that Buckethead's content to let his truly original ambient-prog-shred music do the talking. (RH) The Depot, 400 W. South Temple, 8 p.m., $25 in advance, $30 day of show,


From the Criminally Underrated Files: Guitar virtuoso Steve Kimock is another in a long line of great musicians lingering on the periphery of the Grateful Dead, having played in several offshoots with Dead members (The Other Ones, Phil Lesh and Friends). He also performed with Jerry Joseph—who himself hasn't seen success commensurate with his talent—in Little Women during the late '80s. On his own, Kimock has been part of many bands, including Zero, The Psychedelic Guitar Circus, The Goodman Brothers and several sorta-solo deals like Steve Kimock & Friends, the Steve Kimock Band and Steve Kimock Crazy Engine. For his most recent release, Last Danger of Frost (self-released), he's pared it down to just Kimock. Once you hear him play—anything from the understated acoustic and ambient instrumentals on Frost to the sitar (on-lap slide guitar) ragas, to epic jams with late P-Funk keyboard captain Bernie Worrell—you'll see why "Kimock" is as good as "Hendrix" or "Kottke." (RH) The State Room, 638 S. State, 9 p.m., $28,

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Holy Grail, Exmortus, Spellcaster

This is for sure the second, if not the third, time in a year that Pasadena heavy metal standard-bearer band Holy Grail has visited our fair city. God—er, Odin—bless 'em. Their first two albums stand tall among some of the greats from metal's greatest decade, the '80s. Now, we're not talking about the hair bands—more like the real metal, the mighty, epic work of leather-clad Maidens, Priests and Dios. This is the heavy metal that makes you want to slay the air with your index and pinky fingers and attempt to sing along with James Paul Luna's matchless clarion rasp, and probably sprain a digit trying to keep up with the shredding of guitarists Alex Lee and Eli Santana. With their third album, Times of Pride and Peril (Prosthetic, 2016), Holy Grail continues to wage war on false metal—while updating the sound just enough to be relevant to the times. With likeminded label mates Exmortus and Spellcaster also bringing their battle-ready shred metal, expect to leave the Metro with a face resembling pulled pork. (RH) Metro Bar, 615 W. 100 South, 7 p.m., $12 in advance, $15 day of show,


Boz Scaggs

Boz Scaggs was once just a funny name I saw—and dismissed as dad music—when perusing the Columbia House record club catalogs. Little did I know that I already liked his bouncy and kinda badass anthem "Lido Shuffle" and even the disco number "Lowdown." Also, I hated the sappy '80s cheesefest "Heart of Mine," where Boz does his best James Ingram/Michael McDonald impression. When I finally tied a name to all those the tunes—discovering even more hits, and learned he played guitar and sang lead vocals on the Steve Miller Band's first two albums—it was a real "I'll be damned" moment. Oh, look—McDonald is opening some shows on Boz's summer tour. But not this one. Damn it. (Randy Harward) Red Butte Garden, 300 Wakara Way, 7 p.m., $45-$50,


Eagles of Death Metal

Don't you hate how, now, when you hear the name Eagles of Death Metal, you think of a terrorist attack? The name used to conjure only images of fun—and assorted bare body parts. Or maybe Cannibal Corpse disemboweling Don Henley. That's the only acceptable violent imagery that should accompany the mention of the Jesse "Boots Electric" Hughes, (non-touring member) Josh "Baby Duck" Homme and company. Fortunately, EoDM's music—their newest album, Zipper Down (Downtown), in particular—quickly banishes all bad thoughts. All-girl indie rock band The Beaches, out of Toronto, open. (RH) In the Venue, 219 S. 600 West, 7 p.m., $20-$25,

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