PLAIN PARADE SAYS REST IN POWER RICK D.

As many of you know, the Philadelphia music scene lost a friend in Tritone co-owner/booker Richard C. Dobrowolski (a.k.a. Rick D), when he passed away suddenly from a heart attack on Saturday, April 7 at the age of 40.

Obituaries & more info: 1 2 3 4 5 6

We're shocked and saddened by the loss; our hearts go out to Rick's family and friends. Without his help, Plain Parade would not have existed beyond Doc Watsons.

We're pleased to announce that Plain Parade will reunite on Sunday, April 29, as part of Tritone's "A Month of Sundays,". Organized by Bob & Barbara's/Tritone bartender/waitress Beth Boccassini, "A Month of Sundays" gives us all a chance to say thanks to The Man in the Vest. This weekly series features an eclectic mix of bands, DJ's and promoters, all of which received Rick D's unconditional support.

SUN 4/29
At Tritone (1508 South Street)
8PM SHARP! FREE!

BERETTA 76
Camille Escobedo's Joan Jett snarl rides atop a bracing Cheap Trick guitar crunch from an amped-up garage band that's ready for bigger things. (Dan DeLuca, Philadelphia Inquirer)

NOTEKILLERS (Ecstatic Peace)
While the rhythm section churns furiously, David First peels off a series of scrambled guitar lines, precise even when he's improvising. His diagonal riffs are marvelously untraceable (Surf-rock? New-wave? Heavy metal? Free jazz? Serialism?), and somehow these dense compositions inevitably come out sounding like party music. It's clear this band ranked with any of New York's much celebrated no-wave acts." (Kelefa Sanneh, New York Times)

FOXYCONTIN (Rich Kaufmann, Rolling Hayseeds & Electric Love Muffin)
I don't want to lie and say I liked his '80s ensemble, Electric Love Muffin (though 1987's Playdoh Meathook has its charms). But Rich Kaufmann learned enough about sad-eyed songwriting while teamed with Kevin Karg for the country-fried, tear-soaked Rolling Hayseeds to know how to make noisy, guttural, disillusioned pop-punk with his first band in some time, FoxyContin. Look for ex-Sonny Sixkiller skin man Lance Crow to rage through what Kaufmann promises will be "no sensitive-singer-songwriter-singing-about-the-state-of-parenthood here." Good. (A.D. Amorosi, CP)

JUKEBOX ZEROS
To these ears, garage bands succeed when they remember to temper the thrash with tuneful melodies. Philadelphia's Jukebox Zeros (love the name, guys) rock out plenty on their full-length debut Four On the Floor, but they never let their love of squalling guitars overtake and drown out their catchy songs. The Zeros effortlessly channel '70s-era punky-power poppers like Iggy Pop ('Blue screen burn my TV eye,' yowls frontman Peter Santa Maria on "Ch. 48") and Stiv Bators (opener "Flophouse" echoes Bators' snarl, and the band does right by a cover of the Dead Boys' 'High Tension Wire'), but they've got their own fun identity. 'Film Noir Love', appropriately dark and stormy as it sounds, seems to have been created so the band can have a laugh over the double entendre 'private dick'. And 'Don't Tell Me (More Than I Wanna Know)', aided by a B3 organ which really should appear more on the album, celebrates avoiding dreaded TMI (Too Much Information). And when they're not being silly, the Zeros have attitude and guitar solos to burn: 'Why doncha just go away?' snaps Santa Maria on 'Fun Suck'; elsewhere, he kicks at the dirt on 'Cigarettes and Sorrow'. Like their heroes the Dead Boys, the Jukebox Zeros are young, loud and snotty and they've got the chops and sense of humor to back it up. (Stephen Haag, PopMatters)

AMY DICAMILLO (Undergirl)
Laboring for nine years with little in the way of commercial reward or mainstream attention has gotten Undergirl good and pissed. The group's second record, the incendiary My Flash on You, seems to vibrate with the anger of the overlooked. Fusing revved-up guitars with Amy DiCamillo's furious howl, the record cannily evokes the days before punk rock got its fangs filed at the local Hot Topic. DiCamillo's delivery is more Poly Styrene than Brody Dalle, and the group's unpretty fuzzed-up chord patterns seem at times like they were nicked from a ruddy British sublet ("Radio Action" even appropriates the outro from "God Save the Queen"). The band approaches its live shows with equal ferocity, making it one of the hardest- working underrated bands around. (J. Edward Keyes, PW)