Kaleidoscope

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Published: Sep 21, 2010

So we all went a little nutburgers earlier this year when Glen Rock's Titus Andronicus dropped The Monitor, oozing as it was with screamy-emo that cribbed from those twin towers of American authenticity, Abraham Lincoln and Bruce Springsteen. We got carried away, called it the best album of the year (it was only March!). Are we a little embarrassed now? No way. The Monitor's appeal is the opposite of faddish, and its universal truths (the enemy is everywhere; you will always be a loser) remain so. They'll take a victory lap Thursday at the Church (Sept. 23, r5productions.com).

—Brian Howard

The Philadelphia Urban Theatre Festival, a platform on which local playwrights are encouraged to stand, is already under way, but there's still time to check out some of the 21-day-long fest's best offerings, like Donja R. Love's Nigga Files (Sept. 25-26, putf.org), on stage at St. Stephen's Theater. The play, set in an inner-city school, follows a headstrong teacher who utilizes his lesson plan to inspire five young men struggling with the death of a classmate.

There's this rusty-radiator/clangy-clackety-buzzsaw sound I can't get out of my head. It's the cacophonous implosion of a song on the latest Swans record, My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky. The song is called "You Fucking People Make Me Sick." No kidding. The "heavy material" legendary sonic sadist Michael Gira is showcasing on Swans' first tour in a decade (Sept. 28, thetroc.com) might play like a taunt or physical endurance test — particularly the stuff from 1987's Children of God, aka Choral Music from the Seventh Circle of Hell. But it'll be the most captivating noise you'll hear all year.

Each month, the nonprofit Fourth Wall Arts Salon — self-described as a "habitat of intellectual inquiry" — brings a handful of creative types together to perform and talk shop in a safe space. Visit the salon this Saturday at the Arts Garage (Sept. 25, fourthwallarts.org) to hear spoken word by Nina "Lyrispect" Ball, watch LRC's breakdancing and soak in Willis Nomo's lyrical acrylic paintings (pictured). Just leave your judgments at the door; this is a place for positive energy, not a critical eye.

—Carolyn Huckabay

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