It’s been kind of quiet as we head into a busy weekend. Tonight at Slowdown Jr., Chicago’s Netherfriends take the small stage with Talkin’ Mtn., Sam Martin (Capgun Coup) and Oui Bandits. Netherfriends are followers of Animal Collective and Man Man, and it sounds like it — jangly, spacey indie rock. Not bad. It’s worth $5 just to hear Talkin’ Mtn. play “Abominable Abdominal Snowman.” $5, 9 p.m.

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The good news about last night’s Honeybee show at The Waiting Room: A number of people told me they came out specifically to see Honeybee – a testament to the level of interest in the band. The bad news: Honeybee didn’t perform due to illness. Instead, a cute member of Honeybee did a nice solo acoustic set. Looks like I’ll have to keep waiting to see these guys. With an early morning on my agenda, I left before Noah’s Ark and Baby Walrus played.

In signing news: Team Love announced yesterday that it signed NYC twangsters The Felice Brothers and will release their self-titled debut March 4, followed by a double-vinyl version in April. The band opened for Bright Eyes last year, including the famed Radio City Music Hall performance. The term “Sunday BBQ sing-alongs” is used on their one-sheet and accurately distills what this 4-piece is all about. You’ll be able to check them out for yourself when they open for Drive By Truckers at Slowdown Feb. 25. They’ll be touring with labelmates McCarthy Trenching in March.

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This past weekend started out in typical fashion — a perusal of the usual calendar of events at all the usual venues followed by a series of decisions. I started out Friday night at The Waiting Room which boasted a bill that included sludgefest idols Dim Light, old-school (as in ’90s-style) punk rockers Bombardment Society, new kids on the block Perry H. Matthews and the hottest of the hyped Next Wave bands, Capgun Coup, who I hadn’t seen since last summer at Slowdown. Dim Light was on stage when I got there, a four-piece fronted by a guy who looks like a cross between freak-folk hero Devendra Banhart, indie stalwart Jim James and The Unibomber. Their sound was deep-brown sludge-core, loud and grim, tipped by the atonal bleating of a guy on trumpet whose only job was to create a sonic echo as an afterthought. I love sludgecore, that is if I’m in the right mood. Only 15 minutes earlier I had taken a couple ibuprofen for a nagging headache, and Dim Light’s turbulent waves of gloom were only adding to the pain and making me slightly nauseous. That’s not a criticism of the band — the closest I’ve heard anyone come to their sound was the Tim Moss-led stoner rock act Men of Porn a half-decade ago (and that’s not a criticism, either).

After their set, my headache slowly began to subside. The excitement in the mostly underage crowd (judging by all the X’s on their hands and the bad haircuts) was coming to a fever pitch as Capgun Coup was about to take the stage. But what’s this? Capgun Coup, originally slated as the evening’s headliner, consisted only of frontman Sam Martin sitting on a chair with a guitar. Throughout his set, I stood next to a guy (one of the few old enough to drink) who had never seen Capgun before and was curious to see what all the hub-bub was about. Within two minutes of the first couple songs, he turned to me shaking his head with a puzzled I-don’t-get-it look on his face. Martin’s wonky off-pitch singing made Simon Joyner sound like Michael Bublé in comparison. His electric guitar playing was, to say the least, rough and sloppy. “This guy needs to go back and practice some more,” the drinker said. I told him that the wonky effect was probably exactly what Martin was going for. In fact, Martin reminded me of a young Simon Joyner or even, yes, an early incarnation of Conor Oberst, who’s post-Commander Venus acoustic shows were hit and miss (and mostly miss). The kids back then, however, loved Conor and rejoiced in his ineptitude. The same holds true, it seems, for Martin. Despite the sloppy atonal caterwauling, the kids in the crowd were mesmerized. I explained to the guy next to me that this wasn’t really Capgun Coup, whose music is typically somewhat keyboard-heavy. “So this is the next big thing?” the drinker asked. So it would seem. Capgun Coup has been ordained by The Conor himself, embraced within the group-hug known as Team Love and is headed on the road in April with no less local superstars than Cursive. Martin is Omaha’s unlikely Luke Skywalker, the hope for the future of a music scene mired in stagnation. But for me, the jury is still out. Capgun Coup is 1 for 3 for live performances (He got on base that one time at Slowdown).

Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe the drinker and I were too old to get it. After all, I loved Bombardment Society, who came on next and proceeded to tear the place down with their abrasive post-punk SST-flavored rock. Bombardment probably are viewed as “old guys” by Capgun fans. I wonder what they thought of this style of straight-forward punk. Did they immediately discount it as passé?

Last up was the four-piece band Perry H. Matthews (by the way, which one’s Pink?), but by then, I was getting tired of all the noise. Matthews also plays post-punk but with an even more abrasive, atonal style and glaring vocals that cut like shards of glass. I turned to the drinker and said, “I’m going down to Barley St. to catch Scott Severin.” He replied, “I see. I guess you want to hear some real music.”

It’s always been a matter of bad timing that I’ve never caught a full set of Severin and his band, The Milton Burlesque. In all honesty, I’ve never cared for Severin’s recorded music. But I found out that Severin is a much different animal on stage than on those recordings, thanks in part to a super-tight band of seasoned pro’s who know every turn, every lick of Severin’s old-school, NYC-flavored rock. For that evening, The Barley Street was transformed into a Brooklyn lounge because of Severin’s knack for showmanship, something that has been long dead in the indie world. Most of the slumped-shouldered bands I see at TWR or Slowdown stumble on stage in their T-shirts and jeans and then start playing their janglepop, rarely acknowledging the crowd other than to say “We got one more.” They leave the stage and you wonder if they’re coming back, until the lights comes up and everyone turns to leave.

Severin, on the other hand, commands a room as if he knows and loves everyone there (and considering there were only 20 people in the bar, he very well might have). Vocally, he commits a slight twang that reminds me of John Hiatt, a rocking singer/songwriter that his sound resembles. There were a couple times when his music caught a more progressive groove, including one tune with a repeated outro that seemed to (pleasantly) go on and on. His music is urban but not gritty, almost traditional in its style, a far cry from indie or punk, but still entertaining. The best part was how he ended the evening: While the band continued to play a rendition of “On Broadway,” Severin set his guitar down and picked up a jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He introduced the band — member-by-member — then asked for a cigarette and a light, leaned forward into the microphone and thanked the audience before leaving the stage while the band played on. It was a New York thing or a cabaret thing, and it was great. It was entertaining. And in an era when so many seem to have lost sight of what that word means, it was a welcome oddity.

I’m running a bit long. Tomorrow, part 2, and Brad Hoshaw…

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And so ends the second annual Omaha Entertainment Awards. Better than the first annual event? No, not really. Technically, there were even more fuck-ups this year than last year. On a couple occasions, presenters opened the wrong envelopes and announced the wrong winners – which resulted in a chorus of boos from the attentive, well-dressed and slightly inebriated audience. It all got sorted out, eventually.

Other than that and a few audio miscues, the show was about the same as last year’s. It was the same unique crowd — a mix of younger music fans and older theater-going types. I noticed fewer politicos on hand, probably because of that other awards show going on — the Iowa caucuses. And there were fewer winners there to pick up their awards this year, specifically for the theater categories, which seemed to dominate the night’s proceedings. The evening’s running joke: The envelope would be read, and after a few pregnant moments when it became obvious that the winner wasn’t there, someone from the winning production would run up to the podium and announce “That’s right, I’m not so-and-so…” It happened over and over and over.

The OEA organizers appeared to have learned from last year’s mistakes and dovetailed the music awards with the arts and theater awards, instead of grouping each medium together, which last year resulted in all the theater folks leaving after their part of the evening was over. Strangely, the dovetailed awards still didn’t work, and by the last hour of the program, two-thirds of the sold-out floor seating was once again empty. Come on, people, the least you can do is stick around to honor your comrades in arms… Is there anything more selfish than leaving directly after your individual category has been announced?

I left the show last night thinking that the OEA’s focus had shifted to dance, art and theater awards, with music as a novelty afterthought. I’m sure this was by design — an effort to get even more of the “creative community” involved in the event. Too bad that noble outreach was met by an audience of winners who didn’t show up and losers who left early.

I went to the event stag — Teresa has the flu or some other sort of ailment. So I spent the night texting to a friend of mine who also didn’t go. Here are my notes from my iPhone:

— John Nicely and Tracey Madden presented the best hard rock/metal/punk category. Nicely seemed lucid and attentive, unlike his usual sedated demeanor on the evening news. The winner was Venaculas — the second year in a row. During their acceptance speech one of the band members said he was surprised anyone remembered who they were.

— Matt Whipkey presented the best Hip-Hop award, which went to Breathless, who arrived on stage with an 8-person “entourage.”

— We were all treated to a scene from a play that was embarrassingly trite and poorly acted. They need to stop doing these dramatic performances during the show. I realize they’re trying to be “inclusive,” but these are horrible.

— Two other TV news “personalities” announced the best ethnic award, which went to Mariachi Luna y Sol. For whatever reason, the OEAs cannot let go of this idea of having members of the media present these awards — they are the last people who should be up there.

— The Lifetime Achievement Award was presented by Luigi Waites, who won it last year. Luigi, who got a standing ovation, was hilarious. The winner was Bob Rogers, who runs Gallery 72 and who I’m guessing 95 percent of the audience never heard of.

— I stepped out and got a $5 Morgan and Coke during a performance by a local “jazz” band, and missed Best Folk/Roots/Americana, which went to Bright Eyes, and Best Jazz, which went to Luigi (thank god). The crowd in the lobby was as big as the crowd inside the auditorium. Most were drunk or getting there.

— Unfortunately, I returned in time to see a performance by Anchondo. They are worse live than I could ever imagine. I thought they broke up years ago. Like the Coyote Bones performance earlier in the evening, the sound mix was horrendous — overly bassy — at least from my lonely perch in the balcony. Sarah Benck and the Robbers would have the same problem when they performed.

— The Best Blues award went, again, to Kris Lager, who looked like Molly Hatchet accepting the award.

— One of the more awkward awards of the evening, Best Rock, went to Matt Whipkey and Anonymous American, beating out Ladyfinger and Oxygen, among others. Not awkward in that Whipkey and Co. didn’t deserve the award — they did — awkward in that the band rarely plays together anymore now that Whipkey has moved onto his new band, The Whipkey Three. This led to some uncomfortable back-and-forth during the back-stage interview, when one of the 620 VJs kept prying Whipkey about AA’s future. “So, have you guys been writing some new songs?” Uh…

— In an unscripted moment, a big black guy with a pink Mohawk ran onto the stage while AA was accepting their award and tried to make a speech. Whipkey pushed him aside, and eventually the geek left.

— Poor Michael Campbell was the presenter who was given the wrong envelop during the Adult Alternative award. He read the name “Little Brazil,” the crowd booed, and he and his co-presenter exited stage left. I’m sure he was pissed (I would have been). The winner was Sarah Benck and the Robbers, who accepted the award a few minutes later.

— The best R&B/Funk/Soul Award went to Satchel Grande — a pleasant surprise.

— Finally, Little Brazil was given their award for Best Alternative/Indie. Landon Hedges accepted, saying something like, “People like to talk shit about our music scene,” adding that after going on the road on tour that he realized “We have the greatest fucking music scene!” I hope the TV people were quick with their buzzer. I can just see them stumbling over themselves in the truck, screaming “Go to break! Go to break!!!“

— Best New Artist went to the band that I voted for last year for best R&B/Funk: Satchel Grande, who have been around for a few years — another screw up by the nomination committee.

— Paria performed next and were the only band other than a mariachi band that sounded good on stage. For some reason, the sound mix complimented their metal performance, only heard by the few people still left in the auditorium.

Finally, at around 10:30, the last two music awards were announced. Album of the Year and Artist of the Year both went to Bright Eyes, who wasn’t there to accept the award. Instead, artist Jay Lynch, looking like a hip version of the Zig-Zag man, accepted for Conor. One assumes that Oberst was busy stumping for last night’s other big winner, Barack Obama (Seriously, check out all the coverage and the scary Conor picture here).

I’ll have more comments about the OEA’s in next week’s column. Stay tuned.

My night ended at 12:30 watching Two Gallants on the Jimmy Kimmel show – which had been pushed back due to the caucus coverage. They sang “Despite What You’ve Been Told.” There’s always something wrong with these network shows sound-wise. Last night it was the drums, which could barely be heard in the mix. Instead, we got a lot of guitar and vocals. Adam Stephens spit out the lines with earnest defiance, shaking like he was being electrocuted or about to go into seizures. His guitar sounded terrific, though, and he sang well on a song that sounded jittery and nervous. Kimmel acted like he genuinely liked it.

Tonight at The Waiting Room, it’s Capgun Coup with Perry H. Matthews, The Bombardment Society, & Dim Light. $7, 9 p.m.

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Here’s what you’ve been waiting for — my annual music predictions for the coming year (read it here). I think I said in the article that last year’s predictions were the toughest, but in retrospect, I actually did better with my predictions last year than I did the year before. Odd. As I say in the article and in my Year in Review piece, 2007 was the year for monumental change in the Omaha scene. I don’t see a lot of dramatic stuff happening in ’08, just more of the same. Most of this year’s predictions are just common-sense hunches. Still, there are a few surprises…check it out.

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Speaking of predictions, here are my picks for tonight’s Omaha Entertainment Awards, along with how I voted (I am an “academy member” ya know). The “big show” is being held at The Holland Center. If you can’t afford a ticket, you can watch along at home (if you have Cox digital cable) by tuning into Cox 248 at 7 p.m. Here we go:

Best Adult Alternative: This is the so-called “singer/songwriters” category, which of course makes no sense. I would never consider Anchondo or Oxygen “singer-songwriter” bands. And, uh, where’s Bright Eyes? In fact, where’s Saddle Creek, whose roster consists almost entirely of singer/songwriters? Obviously, Oberst is the best singer/songwriter in Omaha (as well as best “adult alternative,” whatever that means), but he wasn’t nominated, so I voted for Sarah Benck. The winner will be John Henry.

Best Alternative/Indie: Hard to vote against Bright Eyes, especially considering that Cursive and The Faint didn’t release albums last year. I like Little Brazil and Tighten the Noose, but not as much as Cassadaga. Bright Eyes will win.

Best Ethnic: Based solely on their OEA showcase performance, my vote went to Mariachi Luna y Sol. The Turfmen will probably win.

Best Hard Rock/Metal/Punk: Like Bluegrass/Country, here’s another example of where the OEA folks decided it would be a good idea to roll different categories into one. Obviously none of the nominees play punk. A. Symbiont is more of a hard rock band. The rest are metal. It’s a mess. That said. I voted for Paria, and Paria will take home the OEA crystal dildo.

Best Folk/Roots/Americana: These categories also don’t belong together. Folk and Americana are very different animals. Black Squirrels comes closest to folk, Bright Eyes and Whipkey come closest to Americana. Filter Kings and the Mercury’s are twangy rock (maybe Americana?). None of them are “Roots.” I voted for Whipkey. Bright Eyes, of course, will win.

Best Jazz/Standards/Easy Listening: I have to think that a few local jazz fans will see how this category was put together and cringe. Jazz isn’t “easy listening” (at least not good jazz). Having heard only a couple of these artists, I didn’t vote in this category. The winner will be the ever-joyless Heidi Joy (who doesn’t sing/play jazz nor is easy to listen to).

Best Hip Hop/Rap: I didn’t vote in this category, either. The winner will be Breathless (But wouldn’t it be great if Buck Bowen could do another acceptance speech?).

Best Blues: Another non-vote for me. Sarah Benck and The Robbers isn’t a blues band. Sarah Benck and the Robbers will win.

Best New Artist: Coyote Bones got my vote. Despite being on Conor’s record label, Capgun won’t win since few people know who they are. Instead the award will go to Tim Wildsmith, who I’m told got more public votes than any other performer in the nomination process.

Best R&B/Funk/Soul: Satchel Grande blows away everyone in this category, and of course, got my vote. That said, The Wholes, who don’t play R&B or Funk (judging by their performance at the OEA showcase) will take the prize.

Best Rock: Rock should be, well, heavy music — hard, fast, angry. And no nominee plays harder, faster or angrier than Ladyfinger, who got my vote. The winner will be the odorless, colorless, flavorless gas we call Oxygen.

Local Album of the Year: I voted for Cassadaga, which also is the biggest selling local album (nationally, anyway) among the nominees. In a tight vote, Bright Eyes will pull this one out.

Artist of the Year: Again, how do you vote against Bright Eyes? It’s the only band among the nominees that charted on Billboard, that toured throughout the U.S. and the world, that locally drew more people to their shows than any other nominee. The rest of the Academy will see things the same way.

See you at the show (maybe).

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What are you waiting for? Get your entry in to win a copy of the coveted Lazy-I Best of 2007 Compilation CD! Just e-mail me (tim@lazy-i.com) with your name and mailing address and you’ll be entered into the drawing. Tracks include songs by Stars, Interpol, Rilo Kiley, Wilco, Les Savy Fav, Justice, Baby Walrus, Bright Eyes, The Good Life, The Monroes, The Third Men and many more. Details and track order are right here. Enter today! Deadline’s January 17.

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Hope you’re having a good holiday. The Lazy-i Year in Review article goes online tomorrow, and with it, the usual “best of” lists and the annual Lazy-i Best of 2007 CD track listing and contest. Yes, I put together another comp disc this year, and you can enter to win a copy. Details tomorrow.

Some late reflections on last Saturday’s Mal Madrigal album release show at Slowdown: Steve Bartolomei is the best male vocalist of anyone in the local scene these days. His voice is rich and pure and without any affectations. There are other good singers around town, but most of them have some sort of made-up style or nuance that seems unnatural, and as a result, takes away from their performance. They would deny this, but anyone in the audience can pick out their forced stylization. Bartolomei doesn’t try to create something in his voice that isn’t there. He merely sings his songs, and that’s enough. You could argue that he doesn’t have much range, but few male vocalists around here do. He could certainly go above or below his comfort zone, but that’s more of a criticism of his songwriting than his voice. If there’s a stone to throw at Bartolomei’s music, it’s that his melodies often are too narrow and can be forgettable. He makes up for this drawback with a first-rate band that makes everything sound lush and gorgeous, especially on the vinyl. The show was clearly one of the best sounding live performances I’ve seen on Slowdown’s big stage, and as always, I had to wonder if this band will ever get what’s due to it by going out on a respectable tour — not just to Kansas City and Des Moines, but to the East and West Coasts. The only way that’s going to happen is if one of the established Saddle Creek bands takes them under their wing as a tour opener. Mal Madrigal would be a natural opener for Bright Eyes, Mayday, The Good Life, Art in Manila, Maria Taylor and Neva Dinova, to name a few. Unfortunately, Mal Madrigal isn’t part of the Saddle Creek stable, even though Bartolomei has toured with a number of these bands (as part of their bands). Could the entire Mal Madrigal ensemble go on the road for three or four weeks? That’s the big question.

I got to Slowdown early enough to see Ted Stevens do his solo set, starting out on ukulele then moving to guitar. Stevens goes in whatever direction he wants to, and I don’t think he cares if you come along for the ride or not. He’s content going his own way, singing for an audience of one. As accessible as Stevens can sound on stage, he’s one of the most experimental singer/songwriters performing today. He ended his set with a song where he seemingly turned his electric guitar into a sitar. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Stevens had pulled a sitar from back stage. What will he do Friday night when Mayday plays at The Waiting Room?

I watched most of Mal Madrigal’s set from the balcony, looking down at a full floor below. The draw was much larger than I expected. Good thing they didn’t hold this in Slowdown Jr. — that would have been uncomfortable. Judging by the crowd around the merch table and the people walking around with copies of the album, Bartolomei moved a lot vinyl Saturday night.

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