Thursday 26
Friday 27
Saturday 28
Sunday 29
MARKY RAMONE & FRIENDS Marky didn't play drums on the very best Ramones records, but he did play on Road to Ruin, which was one of the last of the prime-era Ramones LPs. And he played drums for the band for almost as long as Dee Dee played bass, so any quibbles about how "he wasn't an original member so he shouldn't be trotting around the country playing Ramones songs with his own stuff" is just a bunch of crap. The Ramones were Johnny and Joey anyway, and they're both dead, so any breathing Ramone (except Richie, who was a total dick) is entitled rather, obligated to bring this music to the masses. It ain't the real deal, but it wasn't the real deal for the last decade and a half the band was together, so what's the problem? Plus, Marky can actually write a song that doesn't sound like a Ramones song. With those mixed in, it should be a great set. (7:30 p.m. at Hard Rock Live; 407-351-5483; $15, $20)
EXOTIC BIRD SOCIETY OF AMERICA EXPO The promoters call it "the largest shopping mall for just bird related items in Florida." And you can make all the for-the-birds comments you can come up with, but it won't deter the passions of people who love their feathered friends and can't wait to see what's new in perches and entertainment systems. In addition to the 101 vendors, events will include a seminar by Jean "The African Queen" Pattison and her work with breeds only from the Dark Continent; and lighter fare from the claw-footed performers in "Larry's Amazing Bird Shows." (9 a.m.-4 p.m. at Central Florida Fairgrounds; 407-855-3367; $5)
JAMES BROWN We've been reading James Brown's autobiography (called, naturally enough, I Feel Good) and we can't help but marvel at just how much this man means to modern music. Sure, there are all those issues of "resilience" and "perfectionism" and "temporary lapses of judgment," but this is a guy who recorded one of the most important albums of all time Live at the Apollo and paid for it out of his own pocket. He's provided a model for all musicians to be self-sufficient, independent and successful, but nobody ever wants to follow the model, preferring instead to crack jokes about how James talks or the crazy shit James does in the name of love. He's nothing but his own man, firmly committed to the idea that music should always be played as ferociously as possible and that it's all for the audience's sake. He still puts on one of the best shows in the world, and truly, without the music he made during his prime (all 20 years of prime, to be clear), this world we live in would be a horrible, horrible place. (6:30 p.m. at House of Blues; 407-934-2583; $42.50-$90)
Monday 30
CHRIS KING POP ICON It's an eternal black eye on Orlando that we lost Chris King Pop Icon to New York just as his career as a stand-up social critic was getting started. A handful of brilliant performances are all we have as mementos of the cable-man-turned-cultural-visionary and his existential-nebbish schtick. To that list, now add this Monday's homecoming gig, staged as a special-treat capper to the Orlando International Fringe Theatre Festival and constituting the first-ever public airing of King's new opus, I Can't Tell if I'm Eating Butter or Not. What's the show about? "I would call it a grand paranoid delusion," the artist assesses though the point is to leave the viewer confused if the delusion King is laboring under is his or someone else's. Expect at least two segments with musical soundtracks, as well as a dialogue between King and the Zargonians a hypothetical race he created for comedic purposes. And the program will definitely include a blistering attack on daily newspapers. "I'm pleased to see that the Sentinel's almost out of business," he says, cheerfully. "I'm going to evacuate my bowels into their face." Stand back, everybody; you don't know how much attitude this guy can dump when he gets going. (11 p.m. at Will's Pub; 407-898-5070; $10)