There was sewer maintenance on Billy Club’s block last week, and it collaborated with him on four songs. “First, I took a rhythm track—I recorded the pumps they were using. Then I added water sounds of my own– peeing, jiggling the toilet handle… Then I put some effects and filters on it, and added some underwater vocals.”

Like the band that played while the titanic sank, we imagine. Only dirtier. One of the compositions debuts this week at the Bullfinch Open Mic, which is where the celebrated Mr. Club—who by day is a graduate student in ethnomusicology at the university on the hill—holds dress rehearsals for his school recitals. The complete sullied sewerific song cycle can be heard a fortnight hence in the school’s Standard Auditorium.

All this talk of septic filters has us craving purer sounds. The club- friendly church octet kleen exults in acoustic mornings and complex harmonies Tuesday night at the Finch. Coincidentally (we hope), two alleged devil worshipping acts are at Hamilton’s: Flush America and Stopper. Portent of the apocalypse.