MILES BENJAMIN ANTHONY ROBINSON
8:30 p.m., Sticky Fingerz, $8 adv., $10 d.o.s.

Angst peddler Conor Oberst can be both
blessing and curse. While the badge garners instant curiosity from a
huge chunk of the blog savvy, it also has the power to box a songwriter
within the critically defined borders of the Nebraskan’s intimidating
shadow. What sets Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson apart from his Saddle
Creek label mate is that his lyrics of desperation and self-loathing are
born of underage alcoholism and past homelessness, not of narcissistic
“woe is me” posturing. His triumphant sing-along, “Buriedfed,” and its
crux line, “they took her to the doctor to fix her heart and heal her
head/she said ‘Goddamn, I’m tired of being black.’ ” epitomize his
naked, no-excuses exercises in sincerity. The lyric — like the song
itself — is a chest-grabber of the highest caliber. And, like the rest
of his repertoire, it’s done with a signature smirk and a wink. Brooklyn
indie-popsters Suckers and Shilpa Ray and Her
Happy Hookers
share the bill.

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