Pick of the week

SAT.FEB.4

Jone of Art is a longtime veteran of Las Vegas hip-hop, for a time as a member of the '90s R&B group 702. Her raw style and hard-eyed vision of life and death in Las Vegas have won her battles and some accolades along the way. Aksis Ajabu is a spoken word artist and storyteller as comfortable captivating jaded grown-ups in smoky nightclubs and coffeehouses with her girlish, "gotcha ... made you think" delivery as she is with school kids at the public library. About a year ago, they met through a compilation CD they were put together on and began exchanging music biz horror stories. Exchanging stories turned into collaborating on a few songs, a few songs turned into an album and an album turned into demands for public appearances.

Between them they name inspirations musical and literary, from Fela Kuti to Portishead and from James Baldwin to Toni Morrison. When they're together, the effect is something more fierce and fun than you expect from open mic and more searching than your typical b-boy night. "It could come off as abrasive to some and at the end you'll be nonchalantly educated," says Jone.

They call their project Water -- and Las Vegas could always use a little more of that. Beverly Bryan, bbryan@lvcitylife.com

Water feat. Jone of Art and Aksis Ajabu
8 p.m.
Zia Record Exchange
4225 S. Eastern Ave.
735-4942
free



THU.FEB.2

Drummers are famously overlooked and taken for granted, it's true. And yet there's only so much awareness we can raise with, "Hey man, the drummer is the anchor, the foundation, the most important blah-dadee-blah," because we all know the drummer sits alone in the back, looking detached, and his name rarely appears in the songwriting credits. There's a mercenary air about him. Sometimes he has to lean forward and read the front of the kick drum to remember what band he's in.

Any beat-keeper who feels he's special often has some hard persuading to do, and Jason Mackenroth seems to be doing it. For several years, he was one third of Mother Superior, the critically acclaimed L.A. rock trio who ended up backing veteran Henry Rollins before the latter's move to mostly spoken-word. Mackenroth scratched his head, realized that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, and Mack was born.

Nine tracks from their self-titled debut CD are written by Mackenroth, and they're well-beyond mere formula. Here's a drummer who's had melodies on his mind this whole time, and here's your chance to see that scroungey, punky fruition at the best venue for it. Dave Surratt, desurratt@cox.net

Mack with the Witnesses and Night Divides Day
10 p.m.
Double Down Saloon
4640 Paradise Road
791-5775
free



FRI.FEB.3

In the immortal words of John Lydon, this is not a love song. Commerce Street Gallery MTZC co-owner Cybele has been mastering the art of the anti-love sentiment for years. After flipping a collective bird to the holidays in a sinfully Santa-bashing exhibit last month, it's no surprise February's famously heart-shaped holiday is likely to receive a similarly painful kick -- this time to the groin, in Cybele's solo exhibit titled Meat Market (My Bloody Valentine).

This collection of "mauled heart art" isn't for the, er, weak of heart. Consider yourself forewarned: in this bloody house of horrors, the sad little organ gets impaled by steak knives, served up flat on a dinner plate and shattered with shards of broken glass. Ow, it burns! It bleeds! The pain! The horror! Relax, because just as you're reaching to adjust your pacemaker, musician Botielus will be on hand to warm what's left of your heart with his signature live "synthstrumentals." The gallery owners are bravely yanking out their art supply stash to encourage visitors to create their own Valentine's Day card masterpieces. Come on, people, make it burn. Feel the burn. This is not a love song. Kelle Schillaci, kschillaci@cox.net

Meat Market (My Bloody Valentine)
6 p.m.
Gallery MTZC, Commerce Street Studios
1551 S. Commerce St.
610-5718
free



SUN.FEB.5

You don't care to repeat the last thing a strange man said to you by way of introduction. And what passes for dancing these days strikes you as something more like vaguely rhythmic inappropriate touching. Sister, there is always escapism.

And if you have seen Baz Luhrmann's complete works enough times to cross reference the choreography then it is surely time to expand into the rest of the ballroom movie genre. The Latin dance film series at the Charleston Heights Arts Center can be your sanctuary throughout this accursed month.

Titles like Tango, Bossa Nova and Flamenco kinda tip you off to what you're in for -- films where a love affair serves as the backdrop for vibrant dancing or dancing serves as the backdrop for a vibrant love affair. Although, Flamenco, for one, dispenses with all that and gets right down to the romance of the tradition itself.

Watch as repressed heat crackles between dancers who are only supposed to be partners on the dance floor, thrill to the strange allure of rigidly codified gender roles (they're sexy in the way that corsets, pencil skirts and stilettos are sexy) and forget the social confusion waiting in the world outside. B.B.

"The Passion of the Dance"
3 p.m. every Sunday in February
Charleston Heights Arts Center
800 S. Brush St.
229-6383
$3



MON.FEB.6

No animals died for you to have your fur-lined jacket with the huge retro collar. A couple of 'em ate it before the jacket could be made but you bought yours at a vintage boutique. So, at least you know your hands are clean.

But, you know, it's awfully heavy for these mild winters and all that furry bulk is taking up an inordinate amount of space in your closet for an item that you only get to wear when temperature and self-confidence align. You could go down to Buffalo Exchange and donate it to the Humane Society. I mean, I'm just saying.

Bring any fur, real or faux, including trims and shearling, to the store from now until Earth Day and let the staff know it's for the Humane Society. Don't worry if your fur is rattier than they would ordinarily buy at Buffalo Exchange. The furs will be given to wildlife rehabilitators to make bedding for orphaned or injured wildlife. The rehabilitators say that fur helps reduce the stress in their animal patients. It reminds the babies of their mothers. For a tax deduction, you will need to mail your fur directly to the Humane Society. B.B.

Coats For Cubs Drive
Through April 22
Buffalo Exchange
4110 S. Maryland Parkway
791-3960
For more info: Buffaloexchange.com or Hsus.org/furdonation



TUE.FEB.7

Something irrevocable happened to burlesque in the last five years, and we suspect it's the fault of the Suicide Girls, who helped inject a revitalizing dose of tattoos and body piercing into the aging bump 'n' grind formula. It inspired the formation of local troupes like Sin City Grind Kittens and Babes in Sin, and suddenly you couldn't swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a beautiful 20-year-old woman with a fondness for dressing up like the singer of the HorrorPops and gyrating to the Misfits.

Roxie "Boom-Boom" LaRue has been doing old-school burlesque Vegas since 2001, performing with everyone from Richard Cheese to the Royal Crown Revue. She prefers her burlesque straight, no Danzig chaser, making her a kind of vintage purist. When LaRue and her latest revue, the Peek-a-Boo Pin-Ups, hit the Beauty Bar stage tonight, the music will be entirely from the '50s and '60s: "Hey, Big Spender," "Just a Gigolo,' "I'm a Woman."

"We're all professional dancers with a deep passion for traditional burlesque," LaRue says over the phone. Expect feather boas, sequins and a guest appearance by legendary dancer Tempest Storm. How's that for Tuesday night in Vegas? Jarret Keene, jarret_keene@yahoo.com

Peek-a-Boo Pin-Ups
10 p.m.
Beauty Bar
517 Fremont St.
702-598-1965
$5



WED.FEB.8

It seems like just yesterday that Dr. Carter G. Woodson was launching a massive campaign to let the United States know that black history should, um, exist. In 1925, nine years after starting up the Journal of Negro History, Woodson did African-Americans one better by founding Negro History Week, which took place in the middle of February near the birthdays of Frederick Douglas and Abraham Lincoln.

It was around this period that John Johnson, a photographer from Lincoln, Neb., was shooting photos of a small Midwestern town and unwittingly taking down some of the rarest images in U.S. history. The photos depicted middle-class African-American people not in peripheral or servile positions, as films of that time tended to place them, but as the main features in the history of middle America. On view at the Clark County Museum is a selection of forty of these photos that allow a glimpse into the minutiae of early-20th-century black culture. Most have a murky, haunting quality reminiscent of early Stieglitz. They range from sweetly intimate wedding portraits to too-cool-for-school kickback sessions with cards and beer that probably inspired an entire generation of Vanity Fair photographers. Do Woodson proud and go see 'em. Katie Anania, katie.anania@gmail.com

Recovered Views: African-American Portraits, 1912-1925
Through March 12
Clark County Museum
1830 S. Boulder Highway
455-7955
$1-$1.50