First Avenue

Englishwoman Lily Allen makes for a well put-together bundle of contradictions: a proper, petite lass who—if her lyrical declarations are to be taken at face value—isn't afraid to swear, brawl, or look down her nose at anyone. She's no Regina Spektor or Amy Winehouse, certainly; there's a pinched, robotic thinness to her voice that would be a liability if she were in the pop game to windsurf miasmas or inhuman singing ranges. That detachedness works in her favor, though, because Allen's shtick is that of the entitled, superior snot—think of her as a smarter, self-aware, limey Lada Gaga. The thematic thrust of new album It's Not Me, It's You is that she's grown up enough to know that drugging, partying, blowing credit at fancy boutiques, and treating others like trash is bullshit—but we're betting she still does all of that stuff, with a smirk. With Natalie Portman's Shaved Head. 18+. $25. 7 p.m. 701 First Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612.332.1775. —Ray Cummings


Dub Trio

Triple Rock Social Club

Noise-rock weirdos AIDS Wolf
Noise-rock weirdos AIDS Wolf

With the notable exception of Bad Brains, there'd previously been a dearth of significant bands over the last few decades that have combined the miles-deep echo of dub reggae production with the heavy, guitar-churning force of punk and metal. But it makes sense that a band that debuted on ROIR, the label that gave the world Bad Brains' first cassette-released album, would pick up that mantle. Brooklyn's Dub Trio has spent the last few years finding the ideal split between mostly instrumental heavy rock and booming, King Tubby-caliber dub sounds, where charging riffs split up and decay into wobbling, ricocheting bass and percussion. (Needless to say, it's great headphone music.) Their most recent CD, Another Sound Is Dying, has clocked a good deal of mileage after being out more than a year, but good dub—and good rock—has a way of reworking its original, familiar forms into new and fascinating mutations in concert. With Sleepytime Gorilla Museum and Faun Fables. 18+. $12/$15 at the door. 8 p.m. 629 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612.333.7399. —Nate Patrin


Kris Kristofferson

Pantages Theatre

At Stella's Fish Cafe this fall, an older gentleman struck up a conversation with me, and it turned toward country music. "You know, Kris Kristofferson spent a month living with me back in the '70s," he said. I asked if it was a fun month. "Yeah, I think so. I don't remember much of it." He threw me a wink to let me know the loss of memory had nothing to do with age and everything to do with Kristofferson's penchant for narcotics. Battling Willie Nelson for the most soft-spoken country outlaw, Kristofferson nonetheless raised a lot of Cain in his younger days. His music, though, is tender and wistful, good for road trips and late nights drinking alone. It is the tragedy of his career that he will be better remembered as grumpy badass Whistler from the Blade film series than as the author and best performer of "Me and Bobby McGee." True outlaw country fans, though, would never mistake him for a footnote to the movement; we can expect the Pantages crowd to be equal parts hick and hipster. 7:30 p.m. $42-$47. 710 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612.339.7007. —Ward Rubrecht

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