The Flyer's music writers tell you where you can go. Ear Plug City So I guess you all think you have some fancy notion about what a good band is. Bah, you don't know diddly-squat. I'll tell you what a damn good band is. The Melvins! Now that's a band to be reckoned with. You see, these guys are capable of cutting across a huge swath of musical styles and tastes. They appeal to groups of people who might not ordinarily sit peacefully, let alone party in the same room together. I'm telling you what, at a Melvins show short-on-the-top-rock-steady-in-the-back mullets can bob side by side with frosted frizzy man-perms. Old-school punks, skate-rats, and bubble-headed butt-rockers can thrash in the same pit with metal-meatheads and ghoulish goths. It's a miracle. What is the universal appeal, you might ask? Volume, kiddos, sheer, unadulterated loudness. So you think you like Korn and Limp Bizkit and Godsmack? You dig Pantera? You think those cats are loud? You've never heard loud. You think Metallica is heavy? You don't know jack about heavy. The Melvins are the loudest, heaviest, metalest, punkest, ass-kickingest band as you are likely to encounter on a summer's day and that, friend, is the cold, hard fact. I dare say the Melvins can probably conjure up more decibels unplugged than most bands can with a 20-foot pile of Marshall amps. Did I mention that they are loud as all freaking git-out? Oh, man. The Melvins have been overwhelming fans since the mid-Eighties, and though their cult following has become humongous, they have still only achieved a modest degree of commercial success. When you see them at the Last Place on Earth Saturday night, you'll know exactly why both of these statements are true. Their Seattle roots probably haven't helped much since they got lumped in with the whole (trendy for about five minutes) grunge thing, but it only takes one listen to their cover of Nirvana's breakthrough hit, "Smells Like Teen Spirit," to know that if grunge is indeed dead, it was the Melvins who killed it. And while we're talking covers, I suggest spinning their crazy version of Merle Haggard's "Okie from Muskogee." That will teach you a lesson or two. The Groovie Groobees What is going on in country music? I just don't get it at all. According to all reports, the Nashville music industry is steadily going down the toilet, yet top-40 country radio insists on playing only the contents of said flushing toilet. Legends such as Johnny Cash can clean up at the Grammys and win over a whole new (traditionally rock) audience, but can he get a single spin? Nah. Meanwhile, out in the heartland, artists like BR5-49, the Souvenirs, Johnny Dilks, Ray Condo, and Dale Watson are changing the American soundscape by bringing back the weeping steel guitars and high-lonesome sound of traditional "hillbilly" music. On the other end of the twangy spectrum are groups like the Groobees who have fused the slick pop of contemporary Nashville with the ragged emotional content of more traditional artists. In doing so, the Groobees appeal to fans on both sides of the barbed-wire fence. While the Groobees sound just a little too much like the Indigo Girls for this listener, singer/songwriter Susan Gibson is gifted with an amazing voice, and the purest female country yodel I've ever heard. She can also turn a phrase with the best of them, and if you don't believe me, just ask the Dixie Chicks. The Chicks' monster hit, "Wide Open Spaces," was penned by Gibson and recorded by the Groobees on their eponymously titled CD. They'll be at the Hi-Tone Friday. You can e-mail Chris Davis at davis@memphisflyer.com.