Grant is contagious. Not contagious like crabs but more like that Mattress Giant song that gets stuck in your head. When Grant Balfour wants to get that "ooh-ahh" feel, he reaches deep within himself, sometimes three or four times a day. "What inspires me to write a song is basically a sonic virus: that catchy thing you get and can't get rid of for days on end," Grant explains. "Like the other day, a woman I work with was talking about her marital history and described herself as 'a poor man's Zsa-Zsa Gabor.' Is that phrase dying for a country song or what?" So by now you're stomping your feet and demanding to know what Grant sounds like. Simmer down, kids. "A few people have used the term 'joycore' to refer to my music, and I have been compared to They Might Be Giants, which is flattering," he says. "But basically, it's bubblegum pop with big words." Indeed. Bubblegum pop tends to make folks want to alternately vomit and run through a sprinkler in their underwear, sometimes both. But what's this? Grant also likes to sing about science: "The last song I wrote was about smart dust, networked airborne microprocessors the size of dust, capable of sending and receiving information. Science has developed this whole language for talking about the miraculous." Grant's day job at The Sun (yes, the one with the anthrax) can only be inspiration when he's constantly bombarded with stories about monkeys mentally controlling robotic arms and alien makeovers. Grant also offers a decidedly different view on sappy love songs. "I'm fascinated by the way love songs are really not that healthy, if you think about them," he muses. "This is why I've written a few about famous serial killers. I think the folks who write songs for 'N Sync have similar views to Ted Bundy or the Zodiac Killer: obsession, desire, and frustration." Grant is also an Aquarius, born in the Year of the Monkey, and has recently been struggling with an addiction to apenzeller cheese. You can check him out, along with the Freakin Hott, at Dada, 52 N. Swinton Ave., Delray Beach. Show starts at 10 p.m. Call 561-330-3232. -- Audra Schroeder
Still Bringing the Noize
It may seem that the time is ripe for '80s metal bands to enjoy a nostalgic second honeymoon with their fans. But what about the bands that didn't have the good looks, hip-shake, and hair toss that the gender-bending Poisons or Warrants of their day had? Perhaps they may safely make it through the next decade without leaking a homemade porno tape to the media and ultimately gain more respect from you in the morning. Formed in 1981, Anthrax has made its career by being the no-frills thrash metal kings of New York with songs like "I'm the Man" and a cover of Public Enemy's "Bring the Noise" before rap-metal was all the rage. More important, they have single-handedly done for goatees what ZZ Top did for beards. Anthrax -- with original members Scott Ian, Charlie Benante, and Frank Bello, vocalist John Bush, and new guitarist Rob Caggiano -- is now on tour in support of its new album, We've Come for You All, and it brings its ear-assaulting metal to the Factory (2674 E. Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale) with local coffin rockers Death Becomes You and A New Level. Doors open at 7:30 p.m., and the show is for all ages. Call 954-564-ROCK. -- Terra Sullivan
Dance company thinks outside the box
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In late August of this year, Jubilee Dance Theatre debuted in Davie with a two-day run of sold-out shows. Not bad for a company that had only barely gotten off the ground. Founder/director/CEO Luctricia Welters formed Jubilee Dance Theatre in February 2003. The company focuses on blending a myriad of dance styles from a variety of cultures and periods to arrive at something innovative. At least, that's the troupe's stated purpose. Of course, that's quite a lofty goal. Dance enthusiasts can see how far Jubilee Dance Theatre has come at 6 p.m. Saturday when the company comes to the African-American Research Library and Cultural Center (2650 Sistrunk Blvd., Fort Lauderdale) to entertain and educate in a performance titled "Out of the Box." The show blends ballet, modern, jazz, and hip-hop styles to tell its story. Admission is free. Call 954-625-2830. -- Dan Sweeney
Moon over Clematis
In terms of festivals on Clematis Street, this year's Moonfest makes Sunfest look like a tea party. In addition to costume contests, laser tag, carnival rides, a "Bizarre Bazaar" featuring food, beer, and pet clothing (!), and a Haunted Paintless Paintball Arcade (that's just a lawsuit waiting to happen), you can enjoy performances by Billy Boloby, the Holy Terrors, Humbert, Driven, the Heatseekers, Whatserface, the Creepy T's, and Baby Dracula. Young Billy Boloby has these words about the spooktacular festivities: "Moonfest is cool because, for one night at least, we won't be the only ones who look and act ridiculous. Last year, I saw someone dressed as a giant penis. I'm not kidding. It would slowly undulate through the crowd before stopping to gyrate up and down; resulting in a volcanic eruption of what I hope was coconut oil." Hello, nurse! The phallus-spotting starts at 8 p.m. on Clematis Street between Centennial Square and the 100 block. Call 561-659-5980. -- Audra Schroeder