Australian Dave Hole’s guitar comes screaming at you like some tormented hellhound out of the outback, and his lyrics combine testosterone-soaked aggression with just enough irony to keep from crossing the line from politically incorrect to insufferably offensive. So why am I, with my general distaste for white-boy-boogie excess, recommending this guy? It’s partly his chops–even at his most frentic Hole is such a technical master that his sound can drop jaws as it punctures eardrums. Then there’s his undeniable romantic appeal: an Aussie–outside the bourgeois Euro-American cultural mainstream woodsheds for years with his guitar and a collection of vintage Elmore James and Blind Willie Johnson recordings, then suddenly explodes into the U.S. scene with an Alligator Records contract, a string of stellar reviews, and an attitude that shows no sign of mellowing (or, alas, maturing) with success. Put your purism on the shelf and prepare to get blown away. Friday, Buddy Guy’s Legends, 754 S. Wabash; 427-0333 or 427-1190. Saturday, Fitzgerald’s, 6615 Roosevelt, Berwyn, 708-788-2118.

Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Gory Peters.