E-Mail This Article to a Friend Local, live, and free An early-week club crawl BY TED DROZDOWSKI
	Good and free Here’s a sampling of T-accessible places where you can find top-notch local music for free on most weeknights. • The Burren, 247 Elm Street, Somerville; (617) 776-6898. Traditional Irish music seven nights a week, plus roots, rock, Irish, and even open mikes in the back room, where a small cover is sometimes charged. • The Lizard Lounge, 1667 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge; (617) 547-0759. • Matt Murphy’s Pub, 14 Harvard Street, Brookline; (617) 232-0188. Jam, jazz, rock, world, and roots music, with the occasional DJ, nightly. • Toad, 1912 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge; (617) 497-4950. • Tír na n-Óg, 366A Somerville Avenue, Somerville; (617) 628-4300. Jimmy Ryan and Duke Levine currently play Mondays; David Johnston is there Tuesdays. • Wally’s Café, 427 Massachusetts Avenue, Boston; (617) 424-1408. Jazz and blues every night. • ZuZu, 474 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge; (617) 864-3278 extension 237. Rock, world, singer-songwriter, and roots performers nightly at 10 p.m. — TD

If you overlook the Big Dig, the LNG tankers cruising the Harbor, the unofficial apartheid, the inflated housing prices, and the Democratic National Convention, Boston has a lot to offer. One point of pride outside the usual cultural institutions that tourism bureaus bray about is the local music scene. Although it doesn’t often spawn successes the size of Godsmack, Extreme, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and ’Til Tuesday (to say nothing of the J. Geils Band, the Cars, and Aerosmith), there’s an abundance of excellent musicians playing all kinds of styles in the city every evening. At least, that’s what I tell my friends who bitch that there’s nothing to do on weeknights. Further, much of this music can be heard for free — or for the price of a beer or a Coke. So regardless of how high their rent is or how much they’ll have to spend to get out of town when the Democrats arrive, my pals have no excuse for not being entertained every night of the week. And after reading this story, neither will you.

To prove my point, I headed out a week ago Monday to hear as much free music as possible. If there’s any night we need some musical uplift on the cheap, it’s Monday. To keep things "econo," as the great punk-rock bassist Mike Watt puts it, I chose only clubs accessible by subway or bus.

My first stop was the Lizard Lounge, on Massachusetts Avenue between Harvard and Porter Squares, which initiated a new early-evening "Soul Low" series this year. Monday through Saturday from 7 to 9 p.m. there’s no admission charge, and the performances feature local and national veterans and newcomers. Boasting a menu of sandwiches and finger foods, plus skilled bartenders, it’s a great place to unwind after work.

When I arrived, at 8, the 24-year-old Manhattan-based songwriter Kristin Hoffman was already singing behind a keyboard with a Macintosh jacked into its side. And singing beautifully, her soprano voice spiraling her unabashedly romantic lyrics through the room’s lucid sound system. It was no surprise to learn that Hoffman went to Juilliard and has been signed to a major label. And with her eyes closed and one leg cocked over the other, and her strawberry-blond hair spilling down her shoulders and along the soft planes of her face, she made you think of Tori Amos. But as she performed Radiohead’s "Spinning Plates" and her own "Lay Down Your Light," a song about giving one’s strength to others, things got a bit precious in a Lilith Fair kind of way. Her lyrics seemed to become repetitive and increasingly sensitive, and as a guy who grew up on Led Zeppelin and the Three Stooges, I started to backpedal. My bad, maybe, but I thought of Chantal Kreviazuk.

My next stop was the Plough and Stars, a long-time Cambridge institution on Mass Ave between Harvard and Central Squares that’s been enjoying something of a renaissance as a roots-music pub since its owners recently reclaimed booking duties. This is where Treat Her Right and Morphine got their start. Most of the time, the Plough has live music for free seven nights a week and Sunday afternoons. Occasionally, a small cover — between $3 and $5 — gets collected at the door. But you can sometimes hear the folk-blues legend Spider John Koerner and hot local outfits like the Cranktones and the Coachmen — in very close quarters — at that price.

On this night, it was the blues and old-time-music trio Beek, Rhodes & Jeffries, who also go by the name Whoah! Man! Jesus! They were minus Jeffries, so their usual two-guitars-and-drums juke-joint-style line-up was altered to include bassist Paul Strother. They’ve improved radically since I saw them earlier this year. Running through originals and classics like Robert Johnson’s "Rollin’ and Tumblin’," they conjured the comfortable feeling of a back-porch jam session, something that goes well with moonshine (not available) or Guinness (on tap). But after a few songs, their need for further growth showed in a lack of dynamics and fire.

So it was off to Somerville and the T’r na n-îg, an equally small venue with free live music all week. The Union Square pub is protesting the no-smoking edict by allowing patrons to puff. If that’s not a problem, then it’s a place where you can often strike musical gold. Top-notch local singer-songwriter David Johnston is there every Tuesday, and the Coots, led by former Treat Her Right harmonica man Jim Fitting, are regulars. Another Boston roots-and-rock hero, the mandolin ace Jimmy Ryan, was holding court on stage when I arrived, with a drumless band that included the superb guitarist Duke Levine.

Although Ryan doesn’t have the high, arching voice of a bluegrass great, there’s a nasal quality to his dry-toned singing that makes it ring backwoods true. One song into his set and we could have been in the ’50s. Ryan sang about drinking and slipping into the demi-monde as he and Levine chased each other up and down their fretboards with relaxed virtuosity. The music was consistently transporting, a blend of virtuosity and camaraderie that was a pleasure to witness. But duty called, and I set off down Broadway to Porter Square and the bar Toad. When I arrived, there was a line outside waiting for local guitarist-songwriter Tim Gearon’s second set, but after a few minutes, I was let into the tiny pub and bellied up as Gearon and his four musicians took the stage.

Toad features two artists or groups every night except Friday, from 7 to 9 p.m. and from 10 p.m. on. (Friday the music starts at 9 and runs all night.) From the first fat notes of Gearon’s slide guitar, it was obvious why he’s held down the Monday second shift for years. He seemed to play anything that popped into his head, from bluesman Fred MacDowell’s spiritual "You Got To Move," done up-tempo, to a funky original that segued into the Isley Brothers’ "It’s Your Thing." His debut album, Back Home (Guernica), captures the subtler side of his original songwriting while showcasing a voice that evokes the dusty backroads of the rural South. But at Toad on Monday nights, Gearon owns the place.

I headed out again on Wednesday to hear pianist Al Vega at Remington’s, at 124 Boylston Street, opposite Boston Common. Although he turns 83 on June 22, this legend of Boston jazz is far from fossilized. Sure, the guy played with Charlie Parker and shared bills with Billie Holiday, but his musicianship and his wit are fluid, and his devotion to big, bold melodies makes him a pleasure to hear. (Vega can also be heard for free playing "Sinatra Sundays" at Lucky’s, 355 Congress Street in Boston.)

This Wednesday slot is Vega’s current lounge jazz gig, and with singer and horn player Johnny Souza augmenting his trio, the set ranged from vocal tunes like George Gershwin’s " ’S Wonderful," done tasteful and swinging, to Charlie Parker’s "My Little Suede Shoes," with Souza and Vega playing rich unison lines and Vega carrying the number with a clean, expressive chord melody. Through it all, Vega and drummer Harry Brower bantered; Souza and bassist Dave Zox took warm solos. Save for Souza, the youngster in this bunch, the performance seemed like a gathering of jazz grandpas out to share a good time.

So over two early-week nights, I heard a mix of pop, folk, jazz, blues, funk, bluegrass, and rock and roll for the price of a couple drinks and T fare. And I’m still planning to leave town during the DNC.