Icons for drunken adolescent debauchery, the Black Lips travel with a hard-earned reputation for dangerous, lewd, and unfathomably wild behavior. Piss, puke, and nudity may have helped the Georgian foursome score a few headlines, but it's their howling, punked-up garage sound that packs gigs and sells records. While their last release, Los Valientes Del Mundo Nuevo, made perfect sense as a live album (where else but Tijuana could American degenerates capture such lunacy?), the band's new disc Good Bad Not Evil offers a greasy batch of fresh material. With song titles like "O Katrina" and "How Do You Tell a Child," you might wonder if the band's teenage spirit is showing signs of maturity. Think again. As usual, the band's sloppy rock 'n' roll enthusiasm prevails. Mark this show down as the one party where you'll want to park your keister right next to the drunkest goon in the house. With the Selmanaires and Private Dancer.
Sun., Sept. 30, 9 p.m., 2007