Adrian and the Sickness

Friday, March 3, Cosmos Café, 69 Heights Boulevard, 713-802-2144.

Manic metal guitarist Adrian Conner's new album, Adrian For President, is as raw and edgy as a Supersuckers after-party at the Playboy Mansion. Her attitude is determined and single-minded – she takes no prisoners. Her relationships are incendiary, here now, gone in the flick of a Zippo lighter with one wrong look. "I love the way we communicate / talk to each other 'til we're all irate / I love the way you say goodbye / but underneath my breath I hope you die." Like all good grrrrrrl rockers, she's flippant, bitchy, loud, propulsive – in other words, all hopped up. (It figures that she's a member in good standing of Hells Belles – if not the country's only all-female AC/DC cover band, certainly the best one.) To get where she's coming from and what her particular sickness is, just take one listen to "Weenie Roast." Adrian For President may not revolutionize American pop music, but it is 101 percent fun with no preservatives and no fatty acids. This girl will be coming to town a lot. See her now while she's still in the small clubs.

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