
Marissa Paternoster led Screaming Females as they sent out a blast of punk power at last month’s Siren Festival (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
Friday, August 13, Maxwell’s, 1039 Washington St., Hoboken, $8-$10, 8:30
Saturday, August 14, Death by Audio, 49 South Second St., Brooklyn, 8:00
www.myspace.com/screamingfemales
One of the stand-out bands of last month’s Siren Festival in Coney Island was Screaming Females, a New Brunswick trio that played a torrid set of searing indie punk rock. The group features Jarrett Dougherty on drums, King Mike on bass, and the titular screaming female, Marissa Paternoster, on guitar and vocals. The pint-size Paternoster ripped off screaming guitar solos along with some mighty impressive screaming vocals, winning over the crowd instantly. The threesome, who recently teamed up with Miranda Taylor of Full of Fancy and Black Wine and Angie Boylan of Cheeky and Little Lungs to form Noun and release HOLY HELL (Don Giovanni, June 15, 2010), made an impact last year with POWER MOVE and is preparing for the release of their latest disc, CASTLE TALK (Don Giovanni, September 14, 2010), which includes the propulsive “I Don’t Mind It” along with “Boss, Normal,” “Nothing at All,” and “Wild.” An up-and-coming must-see who are not far removed from playing Jersey basements, Screaming Females will be at Maxwell’s on Friday night with Black Wine and Byrds of Paradise and at Death by Audio on Saturday night with Big Soda.



A British gangster on the run hides out with a psychedelic rock star in this strangely enticing film from Donald (THE DEMON SEED) Cammell and Nicolas Roeg (making his big-screen directorial debut). James Fox didn’t know what he was getting into when he signed on to play Chas, a mobster who finds sanctuary with mushroom-popping rock-diva has-been Turner, played with panache by Mick Jagger. Throw in Anita Pallenberg, a fab drug trip, and the great “Memo to Turner” scene and you have a film that some consider the real precursor to MTV, some think a work of pure demented genius, and others find to be one of the most pretentious and awful pieces of claptrap ever committed to celluloid. We fall somewhere in the middle of all of that.

