UPDATE: The Shaky Hands are NOT playing tonight's Rock Out to Walk Out after all. But General Strike, Nate Ashley, !Ay, Claudia!, Michael Ford, the Middle Ages, Over Creston, and DJ Anjali and the Incredible Kid will all be performing.
ROCK OUT TO WALK OUT:
THE SHAKY HANDS, DJ ANJALI AND THE INCREDIBLE KID, THE BOP OUT TO WALK OUT JAZZ QUARTET, & MORE
(The Cleaners at the Ace Hotel, 403 SW 10th) Powell's workers celebrate 10 years of union book slinging with Rock Out to Walk Out, a concert raising some cash for their strike fund (don't worry, they're not quitting the bookstore anytime soon!). T
he Shaky Hands headline, but the real show is Powell's employee bands performing folksy union songs. Also, there will be dancing. Book nerd dancing. SARAH MIRK
THE GROWLERS, SHANNON AND THE CLAMS, LITTLE TEETH, AND AND AND
KEEP YOUR FORK THERE'S PIE,
THE LOWER 48
(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) Portland folk-poppers Keep Your Fork There's Pie very nearly caused a skirmish here at the Mercury office. Along with a copy of their brand new album Homespun, the band dropped off a delicious apple pie—presumably in order to ply the greedy bellies of the notoriously pie-loving Mercury music writing staff. However, said pie appeared on the day when all the males in the office were out on a date with one lucky winner of our annual charity auction. So when Mercury Music Editor Ezra Ace Caraeff and I returned to the office that afternoon, our female co-workers gloatingly informed us that all of the delicious pie had been gobbled down. But the joke's on them: Keep Your Fork There's Pie also left Homespun, an album as sweet and filling as any pie you could ever eat. It's a giddily infectious bit of Americana soul, like Sly and the Family Stone playing on the back porch. What's more, we found a generous wedge of pie hidden away by the thieving girls, and quickly made short work of it. NED LANNAMANN
Angry Samoans and Doobie Brothers coming up after the jump!
ANGRY SAMOANS, RUM REBELLION,
THE MEAN JEANS, DEFECT DEFECT
(Plan B, 1305 SE 8th) The Angry Samoans' "Lights Out" is the perfect proto-punk song. In a mere 53 seconds the song practically defines the genre: idiotic, disillusioned, nihilistic pithy shouts ("poke, poke, poke your eyes out!") over double-time redline drumming and stop-start breaks. It's just catchy as all hell. There's something beautiful about the turn-off-your-brain bop to the song. Perhaps a review from some long-lost punk rag put it best: "The Samoans were the garbage rock of Lester Bangs' depraved dreams, full of self-hatred and loathing that turned its insecurity and rage upon everyone and everything in the world 'cause it was just there to be hated." Indeed, that's the only Dumpster songs like "They Saved Hitler's Cock" and "STP Not LSD" could've ever crawled out from—that fine line where dumb turns smart. The band's Portland appearance is odd in that unlike, say, a night with the washed-up, croaked-out giblets masquerading as the New York Dolls, the Samoans might actually be worth checking out. ANDREW R TONRY
THE DOOBIE BROTHERS, LARA JOHNSTON
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) "The Doobie Brothers broke up?! Shit! When did that happen?!" mourns Jack Colton in 1984's Romancing the Stone. That quote—in addition to being a retroactive reminder of the Doobies' Methuselah-like ages—marks the moment I became a Doobie Brothers fan. (If soldier of fortune Jack Colton loved the Doobies, then 10-year-old me sure as hell did, too.) Thirty-year-old me agrees: It's tempting to write 'em off as hirsute purveyors of clichÉd classic rock jams, but even if you characterize 'em as a mere singles factory ("Black Water," "What a Fool Believes," "Minute by Minute," "China Grove"), you've still got enough reason to get stoned and see 'em at Edgefield. Before takin' it to the Troutdale streets, YouTube their 1977 appearance on What's Happening!! (Long story short: The Doobies catch Rerun bootlegging a show, then mercilessly punish those responsible!) Jack Colton, Rerun, and I agree: See the Doobie Brothers. But for the love of god, leave your tape recorder at home. ERIK HENRIKSEN