Monday, March 27, 2006; C05

The Minus 5

To those who were turned away at the door at Iota, where the Minus 5 played to a sold-out crowd Saturday: Not to be cruel, but it was a night of insanely infectious power pop delivered by a quartet that played together as tightly as a fitted bedsheet. Beatlesque harmonies, melodies played under melodies -- and a killer rhythm section more familiar with arenas than honky-tonks: drummer Bill Rieflin from Ministry and REM bassist Peter Buck.

And the cult favorite Silos opened.

You should have got there earlier.

Singer-songwriter Scott McCaughey, who founded the Minus 5 in 1993 as a side project from Young Fresh Fellows, played his electric guitar and sang "My Life as a Creep," "Days of Wine and Booze" and "Retrieval of You" (aka the "D.J. Minimart" song) with old-fashioned rock-and-roll fervor. Guitarist John Ramberg seemingly could do no wrong as he blended furious riffs from the poppy '60s with those from the post-punk '90s. Rieflin kept the beat fast and fun, and Buck was the calm in the storm, playing basic, dynamic rock bass with an unwavering grin that was as infectious as the music.

The night got off to a swift and powerful start with the Silos, the seminal alt-country band founded in the mid-1980s by singer-songwriter Walter Salas-Humara. The trio was made up of just bass and drum and Salas-Humara on electrified acoustic guitar and vocals, but the sound filled the room with catchy melodies and thoughtful lyrics.

-- Buzz McClain

There is no spewing, hateful rivalry between dancehall reggae and its Latin beat- and hip-hop-influenced younger sibling, reggaeton. But put a huge star from each genre on the same bill, and it's only natural that a healthy tussle for the loudest applause and screams ensues.

At Friday's Reggaeton Spring Bling at the Patriot Center, dancehall heartthrob Sean Paul handily won the congenial competition for most beloved artist over reggaeton luminary Ivy Queen, but the playing field wasn't exactly level.

After Mafu Crew, Andy Andy and Hector El Bambino (now also going by the more mature Hector El Father) performed, Sean Paul took to the stage accompanied by hype men, dancers and a band. Despite an injured right knee, he jumped around while performing much material culled from his latest album, "The Trinity," 2003's "Dutty Rock" and 2000's "Stage One." In addition to his best-known material, including "Gimme the Light," and more recent chart-toppers, such as the blazing "Temperature," Paul dropped in a couple of verses from collaborations with Busta Rhymes and Beyonce and early dance-floor successes "Deport Them" and "Infiltrate."

The extensive performance, though, ran over into Ivy Queen's time.

The Queen was cheered when she finally emerged, but it was impossible to top Paul's performance with 20 minutes of stage time, a DJ instead of backing musicians, and mike problems. The Queen tried to make the most of her snippet of a set with "Cuentale" and "Te He Querido Te He Llorado," both on "Flashback," but when the house lights came up, cutting her show short, she walked offstage shaking her head. Ivy Queen came back for a quick reprise of "Cuentale," but left the crowd wanting not only more music, but a reggae/reggaeton rematch.

-- Sarah Godfrey

Ned Rothenberg has long been one of the most inventive, consistently satisfying performer-composers on the New York new music scene, always exploring the edges (who else plays the Japanese shakuhachi in jazz?) and embarking on strange, evocative and ear-bending forays into the sonic unknown.

On Saturday night he brought his intriguing trio, Sync -- with Samir Chatterjee on tablas and Jerome Harris on acoustic guitars -- to Takoma Park's Sangha performance space. Rothenberg himself is a virtuosic winds player with a wide palette of multiphonics, circular breathing and other advanced techniques, all in service to one of the most distinctive musical imaginations around.

And the music was flat-out gorgeous, with a warmth not always found in contemporary music. Playing everything from alto sax to bass clarinet, Rothenberg launched adventurous, intricate solos that unfolded effortlessly through smoky blues and otherworldly squawks to intimate modal ruminations. His sense of line and drama is impeccable, and over Chatterjee's roiling tabla work and Harris's introspective guitar lines, the effect was compelling.

At first glance, this variation on the standard drums/bass/winds setup looks strained, like a blind date among world-music idioms. And scholars might debate whether shakuhachi, brushed tablas and slide bass guitar will ever really click together.

But this is unusually thoughtful music, and the subtleties of the tabla, along with Harris's sinuous guitar work, beautifully complemented Rothenberg's detailed, colorful and hyper-imaginative playing.

-- Stephen Brookes

"This next song is just a smack in the face," Cult frontman Ian Astbury warned a rowdy, capacity crowd Saturday at the 9:30 club. "Who wants some?" Apparently, nearly everyone.

It's been five years since the band last released an album, so the Cult's "A Return to the Wild" tour is a bit of a surprise. And considering the unevenness of the British rockers' 22-year career, the fact that the re-formed group -- rather, the group's continual but contentious essence, Astbury and guitarist Billy Duffy, plus a few helpers -- is consistently selling out dates is perhaps even more unexpected. Add in the duo's reputation for often phoning it in live, and the show amounted to one dicey ticket.

Although the nearly two-hour, 19-song set included a few generic, tiresome arena-rockers that recalled the worst of '80s hair metal, the band itself was tight and energetic. Astbury's voice never faltered as the group offered selections from each of its albums, including hits such as "Sweet Soul Sister" and the radio smash "She Sells Sanctuary." An acoustic version of "Edie (Ciao Baby)," with only Astbury and Duffy onstage, was also a highlight, even though the aching sweetness of this tribute to the troubled Edie Sedgwick was marred by Duffy's brief tantrum about the sound system.

-- Tricia Olszewski

"This next song is just a smack in the face," Cult frontman Ian Astbury warned a rowdy, capacity crowd Saturday at the 9:30 club. "Who wants some?" Apparently, nearly everyone.

It's been five years since the band last released an album, so the Cult's "A Return to the Wild" tour is a bit of a surprise. And considering the unevenness of the British rockers' 22-year career, the fact that the re-formed group -- rather, the group's continual but contentious essence, Astbury and guitarist Billy Duffy, plus a few helpers -- is consistently selling out dates is perhaps even more unexpected. Add in the duo's reputation for often phoning it in live, and the show amounted to one dicey ticket.

Although the nearly two-hour, 19-song set included a few generic, tiresome arena-rockers that recalled the worst of '80s hair metal, the band itself was tight and energetic. Astbury's voice never faltered as the group offered selections from each of its albums, including hits such as "Sweet Soul Sister" and the radio smash "She Sells Sanctuary." An acoustic version of "Edie (Ciao Baby)," with only Astbury and Duffy onstage, was also a highlight, even though the aching sweetness of this tribute to the troubled Edie Sedgwick was marred by Duffy's brief tantrum about the sound system.

-- Tricia Olszewski