Bockman

Common lore tells us of a right way and a wrong way to do the rock & roll thing. Right way: Play lots of small clubs, build up a fan base, litter the streets with your flyers, record a demo, get a record deal, some radio play and a video on MTV2. Wrong way: Play lots of small clubs and some heady festivals, release a couple of underselling albums, lose a key member of your band, change your sound entirely and, oh, change your band name while you're at it. The kiss of death is the band name. Who changes their band's name five years into their career and expects to live to tell about it?

Ask the former Bockman's Euphio, alive and well as simply Bockman. Let it be known that this is not the hippie-dippy Columbia, Missouri, band that has over the years suctioned its jammy tentacles to the Midwestern scene. No, this is something else entirely, and since no one else seems to have the balls to come right out and say it -- thank God for that. Not that the "old school" Euphio sound wasn't fun. It was, for what it was. And they still play the songs (you'll get your "Hello Mailbox," "Springtime Mildew" and "Windy City," so calm down) that solidified their reputation as one of the area's least gelatinous jam bands. But there's an actual, tangible maturity going on in this sound now. They've made a study of the Smiths, Coldplay, Joanna Newsome and then some, and incorporated their burgeoning pop alternativism into their more experimental and improvisational roots. A daring feat, and after a year of playing out with this new sound, they've finally got it. Is there such a thing as a cross between a hippie and a hipster? There is now.

Events begin at 10 a.m. Bockman plays at noon. The concert is free.