Tour Buzz

THE LIKELY LADS: Google them and see: The members of Bangor, Northern Ireland, power-pop trio Two Door Cinema Club look about 17 years old. But they’re all over the age of 21, which means they won’t have any difficulty getting into the Hard Rock Hotel for their Sept. 26 show at Body English ($25)—conversely, it means that they’re probably too young to have heard the 1980s-era U.K. bands that their jangly, upbeat guitar pop closely resembles—Prefab Sprout, Aztec Camera and the Housemartins, among others. Whether they’ve heard those bands or not, the happy news is that Two Door Cinema Club could travel back in time and play alongside those bands without sounding exactly like any of them. That’s the mark of early maturity.

STILL ON THE AIR: I’ve waited a long time to see TV on the Radio perform live. I confess that I thought I’d never get my chance after bassist Gerard Smith passed away in April; I thought that the band, barely off a yearlong hiatus, would simply lose energy and close shop. But they didn’t—and according to Pat O’Brien, a blogger for City Pages in Minneapolis, it was the right decision. “TVOTR was in no mood to mourn at all,” he wrote of the band’s Aug. 30 show. It was a tight 90-minute set and an even better encore, and that’s the TVOTR that’s coming to play poolside at the Cosmopolitan on Sept. 23 ($38). Arctic Monkeys share the bill, if a full-blown resurrection isn’t enough for you.

LAST OF THE SWINGERS: Always knew that when that last trumpet note sounded and the great 1990s jump swing revival finally collapsed that Big Bad Voodoo Daddy would be the last pinstriped men standing. They’re sharp players, their stage banter is funny, and wouldn’t you know, their sound hasn’t dated at all. See them at the Orleans on Sept. 24-25 ($22-$44).

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Ink Bomb

Ink Bomb

By Cindi Reed

If you are old enough to read this without sneaking it from your parents, then the world of tattooing has radically transformed within your lifetime. Tattoos used to carry a stigma, and highly visible tattoos—on the neck, face or hands—were called “life ruiners.” A quick visit to any Vegas swimming pool shows a seismic attitude shift. Reality TV shows, celebrities and athletes have helped speed tattooing’s mainstream acceptance. Case in point: The 2005 hit Las Vegas reality show Inked brought tattoo parlors to casinos and eased the city’s zoning laws in the process, allowing studios to emerge from industrial-district exile into more prominent spaces. Custom tattoo shops flourished. For the commitment-phobic, InfinitInk even offers easier-to-remove black pigment (good luck convincing your tattooist to use it). These changes have thrown a once-insular and rebellious industry into the exhilarating chaos of pop culture. Members of the Las Vegas tattoo community are riding the new wave with methods as unique and individual as their own tattoos. Here are their stories.