DOCTOR NIGHTLIFE is called upon to announce that the Milli Vanilli concert scheduled for Sunday at Merriweather Post Pavilion has been canceled. She is not called upon to regret it. Refunds available at place of purchase. Elsewhere: FRIDAY

NEARLY NEW YORK . . . --

In Steve Erwin, Washington may finally have an intelligent male thirtysomething voice; that's a literary term, but his singing's pretty good, too. Erwin's observations are more sensible than sensitive, more intelligent than clever; and he has the gift of knowing that a view is better than an angle. Erwin usually plays the open-mike circuit solo, but he's trying out his in-progress album at Synergy with top guns Steve Bloom, John Previti, Harold Howland and Jeff Felsher ($7; 363-4664).

. . . BUT NOT YANKEE STADIUM --

It should be quite a contrast: Pop-rock master Marshall Crenshaw is still touring with human drum machine Kenny Aronoff, who in February flattened the whole show like a Moon rock. Meanwhile NRBQ, who spent five years proving you can't have a "Wild Weekend" in the studio, tries to get that old maniacal magic back with a half-hour acoustic set mixed in. What goes around comes around (at Wolf Trap: $18 pavilion, $12 lawn; 432-0200).

TEX-SAX STYLE --

If you think a Texas-bred jump/blues/rockabilly sax man/singer/actor sounds rowdy, you're right: Johnny Reno has played with everybody from Stevie Ray Vaughan and Lou Ann Barton to David Byrne (in "True Stories"). This time he's pulling out all the stops -- he's bringing a whole band full of sax maniacs with him, Friday at the Roxy ($8; 296-9292) and Saturday at Baltimore's 8 X 10 ($7; 652-2000). SATURDAY

HUNKA, HUNKA BURNIN' ALIVE --

Most rock 'n' roll women wind up as the mousse that roars, but then Melissa Etheridge isn't exactly your traditional sex symbol. Etheridge puts a Nineties nightcap on the neo-Sixties Del Amitri at Merriweather Post ($20 pavilion, $15 lawn; 800/543-3041).

DOWN BY THE RIVER --

As the spiritual says: "You can't worship God till you kick off your shoes." Gospel music was made for the riverside; and the Zion Methodist Men, the Queen Sisters and Christian Joy assemble at the river in Historic St. Mary's City at 6. (Free, picknickers welcome; for information call 301/862-0960). SUNDAY

BOOGIE DOUBLE BILL --

Back when rock 'n' roll was a marathon outdoor sport, Leon Russell was the bayou backbone that kept those Southern blues/Allman Brothers boogie tours on track. Hank Wilson's back, banging solo on the piano; and so is first act Deanna Bogart (at the Birchmere; $18.50; 432-0200).

LONG TRAIN JAMMIN' --

And speaking of marathons, it's a jam-packed afternoon at Wilmer's Park in Brandywine in celebration of New Potato Caboose Day, also featuring such admirers as the Jello Boys, Black Sheep, Train of Thought, Awakening and Exit Only. Gates open at 12:30, music at 2; admission $12. As usual no coolers or bottles; 301/283-0749.

VOODOO THAT VOUS DO --

Guesch Patti has spent her professional life jumping between the corps de ballet, "Les Miz" and girl-group glam-rock; and judging from her Moulin Rouge-meets-Crocodile Street videos, she's taken the makeup kits, the guttersnipe glamour and the equal-opportunity decadence with her. Presumably, Patti can't reproduce the entire catacombs cabaret at the Bayou ($10.50; 333-2897); but her singing personna -- Madonna does Piaf and Montand, me'nage-style -- is exotic enough. MONDAY

VOODOO THAT YOU DO, TOO --

It was truly a freak hit: The shape Screamin' Jay Hawkins was in when he recorded "I Put a Spell on You" almost turned the title into his epitaph. Maybe that's why he used to make his entrance in a coffin. Revived and live at the 9:30 ($12; 393-0930) with the appropriately named (but straight) Thangs.

SIXTEEN HANDS HIGH --

The eight-man Mano Negro sounds like a speed-freak surf band, the Sir Douglas Quintet, the soundtrack to "Thief of Baghdad," the Gipsy Kings, Godzilla's mother and "The Lonely Bull" all sampled together by MC Hammer on crystal meth. It's got a beat, all right; but if you can dance to it, they've got a job for you at the supercollider (at the Bayou; $10.50, 333-2897). TUESDAY

MIGHTY CARSON HEART PLAYER --

Lori Carson is much as she sounds -- a Pre-Raphaelite type who goes to art school in Manhattan, turns to modeling, enrolls in a writing course at Hunter and finally stumbles into open-mike night in Greenwich Village with a fistful of fragile vignettes and a voice that's a ringer for Rickie Lee's, only Reed-ier. Voila! Two years on the club circuit and into Geffen Records. She played WHFS's Fourth of July party, and they liked her enough to bring her back and underwrite the ticket (at the Birchmere; $5.99, 432-0200).

OK BY ME, O K BAYOU --

Doctor Nightlife has been led into error, my friends, the error of referring to those fine Cajun brothers in Allons-Y! as Allons-Zee (having assumed they had surrendered to phonetic necessity). So let's dance! Allons-Y! and guest accordianist Jumahl of the O K Bayou band play a benefit for Glen Echo's Spanish Ballroom starting with a dance workshop at 7:30 ($6; 320-2330). WEDNESDAY

GROUND WIRED --

Is there such a thing as traditional thrash? Uncle Tupelo sounds like a self-taught St. Louis mudbank harmonica player/string picker who found a scratched-up Gram Parsons album and played it on a cranked-up portable turntable -- without a needle. Actually, "he" is three; they play guitars, banjo, fiddle, mandolin, steel-body guitar, bass, drums, A. P. Carter and massive feedback; nevertheless, as "Train" and "Life Worth Livin' " make (relatively) clear, Jay Farrar, Jeff Tweedy and Mike Heidorn have real writing talent. Uncle Tupelo opens for the Dead Milkmen at the 9:30 club ($12; 393-0930).