Playbill

Fast-forward a few years, and Roberts still hasn't played that many solo shows, though she is wont to whip that uke out for friends, family and even rank strangers at the drop of a hat. She is one of Clouseaux's multiple vocalists, and her deep, torchy alto voice has elbowed the band's male singer Thomas Escalante into singing the high parts in Clouseaux's lush soundscapes. But these solo uke gigs are rare and should not be missed. Trust us, if you're a fan of stuff like clever Tin Pan Alley tunes and Vaudeville-style jazz, or bands like the Asylum Street Spankers, the Decemberists or Combustible Edison, or if you'd just like to see a beautiful young woman play smart, quirky tunes on an odd instrument, you won't want to miss this show. -- John Nova Lomax

It's hard to jam econo with a catheter. Ask Mike Watt. In 2000, after an abscess in his perineum burst, the legendary Minutemen and fIREHOSE bassist found himself bedridden with a raging fever, pounding Percodan, hallucinating, peeing orange and contemplating death more than the engine room. Fittingly enough, Watt used the downtime to reread Dante's Divine Comedy, the inspiration behind his third solo effort, The Secondman's Middle Stand. A complex conceptual effort cut into nine parts, Stand charts Watt's own agonizing journey from inferno to purgatory to ultimate paradise. The result is a trippy, swirling third dimension with lots of sunsets and pelicans. Supported by a B3-organ-fueled backing trio that sounds like Procol Harum on a prog fix, San Pedro, California's nautical son and beloved spielmeister returns from a tour of duty in hell older, wiser, thinner but oddly re-energized. Somewhere, D. Boon is smiling. -- John La Briola

Wednesday, November 10, at Rudyard's, 2010 Waugh Drive, 713-521-0521.

Call Mr. Plow "stoner rock" if you must, but before reaching for the bong and turning on the black light, be advised that this H-town riff machine cranks out sobering examples of what heavy metal was meant to sound like.

Plow (named for Homer Simpson's snowplow-driving alter ego) definitely takes its cues from old-school sweet leafers like Black Sabbath, but underneath the multilayered fuzz-tone attack exists a wry sense of humor.

No doom, gloom or demon tales here -- instead, benders, horny truckers and Taxi Driver are the themes of Mr. Plow's sludge-ridden grooves.

The band's most interesting lyrics, however, are in the semi-serious "Beat Down," from Plow's debut, Head On, which approaches classroom horrors from the teacher's point of view. "Teaching those kids isn't easy / They challenge you every day / It's a beat down from a smirk to a frown / Knee in the chest / They'll know who's boss."

While HISD may not approve of such material, Houston rockers were quite appreciative during the band's recent opening slot for underground faves Nebula at Rudz. Clean-cut guitarists-vocalists Jeremy Stone and Justin Waggoner led the charge with blissfully unified power chords while bassist Greg Green and drummer David Obert -- a ballsy enough guy to confess a love for Molly Hatchet -- maintained a flexible yet thunderous pace.

It was a loud affair that was met with heads bobbing and an occasional flash of the ol' index-finger-and-pinkie devil sign. Which is proof enough that good hard rock is alive and well in Houston, and that a band doesn't have to sing about Satan to raise hell. -- Mike Emery

Saturday, November 8, at T's Hideaway, 6004 Needham, Conroe, 936-273-5252.