THURSDAY 7/27


WITCHYPOO'S LAST SHOW EVER
(Medicine Hat) Yes, it's really all over for Slim & Co. after this 10th Anniversary show. It's the end of an era, but also the kind of landmark achievement that makes you step back and appreciate how amazing the Pacific Northwest scene is. So remember your manners, and bring a going away present, eh? JULIANNE SHEPHERD (See Music Bio page 19)

RICKY MARTIN
(Rose Garden Arena) Sometime last summer, there was a headline in the Onion that read "'Weird Al' Yankovic Nears Completion of 'Livin' La Vida Mocha.'" Never mind National Enquirer or Newsweek or National goddamn Geographic--when you're mocked inadvertently by a mockery of someone who mocks, you know you're fuckin' famous. There's not much else I can say about this ex-Menudo spitfire, except to gratuitously mention that 1. I objectify him, 2. He is sooo hot, and 3. He makes me wanna cha-cha madly, even more than Gloria Estefan ever did, probably because 4. He is sooo hot. JS


FRIDAY 7/28


OCTANT, SUPERSPRITE, PLEASEEASAUR, REANIMATOR
(Meow Meow) Amen for plastic robotics and the musicians who, if they don't actually use them, at least summon the spirits of the Speak-n-Spells of the world. Octant's drummer, of course, is probably the hardest-working robot in the biz, capturing the orange essence of its ancestors and paving the way for rock's science-laden future. Thank Sagan! Supersprite, purveyors of the motherboard, includes two members of Mome Raths, and Eric Mast (who, if you really need an introduction, is one of Portland's foremost overachievers--label guy, zine guy, all-around svengali). A must-attend--this show couldn't get any more now. JS

PARADIGM DRIVEN, NECTRE, PETAL
(Medicine Hat) Your honor, I would like to make a case for Paradigm Driven as the official, most gawd-awful musical act I have seen in the Northwest. Exhibit A, Your Honor: their name. Whether Paradigm Driven means something or if it's two randomly chosen words (if so, why not "Monkey Fisting?"), I'm not sure, but you hear it and just know the band has to be bad. Exhibit B: when I saw them, the lead singer was wearing a doo rag, a sure sign that he's going bald and is afraid it will keep him from being a rock star. Exhibit C: the first song of their set was dedicated to "Alice in Wonderland," a fictional character. Even worse, the song was called "Curiouser and Curiouser Still," and the music itself was like a bad cover of a bad Faith No More b-side. It was terrible. I had to leave the club. I couldn't take it. And for that reason alone, your honor, I ask that you give this band what's coming to them. Make the scene safe for the ears of our children, because God forbid they become convinced that cock rock is good. Thank you. JAMIE S. RICH

BRUCE COCKBURN, PAULA COLE
(Oregon Zoo) Does anyone else find it strange that visiting, adult contemporary artists are inevitably shuffled toward the Zoo during the summer months? Does this happen everywhere? In, say, Baltimore, do touring singer-songwriters play the aquarium? Not that this is a bad idea; non-musical distractions are a welcome feature of any club. I'm generally delighted to find video games near the stage, much less a monkey habitat, but it does tend to attract the wrong sort of folk. The expense, distant location, and concentrated family atmosphere of the zoo best fits the minivan hordes irritated by the smoky, boozy, unregulated fun of most concert halls. And, geez, Paula doesn't deserve that crowd. The techno-vamp of that "Cowboys" song stirred discos for years, and the Dawson's Creek anthem...I could hear that song 30 years from now and still be overcome with desire for the nearest moon-faced teen (which'll likely cause some problems, I guess). I don't want to hear that song at the zoo. For that matter, Dawson wouldn't want to hear that song at the zoo--though he kinda hears it everywhere, all the time, regardless. God, what a beautiful life. JAY HORTON

COSMOS GROUP, MANDARIN, J. HELL
(Ash Street Saloon) It's sad that, given the amount of truly talented musicians in Portland, many of them have chosen to play the same, shitty regurgitate dude rock that every other fucking band in the world plays. By shitty regurgitate dude rock, I mean alcoholic white guy power chord music. And by that, I mean Mandarin. Live, they are incredibly energetic, but their music is like the soundtrack to those self-esteem videos they showed in junior high--loud, joyous, and inspiring in an Ivory Soap way that I could never relate to. I don't know about you, but I don't want to relive that. JS

DILLINGER ESCAPE PLAN, ISIS, BLARK
(Cobalt Lounge) Dillinger Escape Plan--the heavily angry antithesis of cheesy guys like Limp Bizkit--is the kind of band that doesn't have to flaunt the size of their dicks. They're quick metal, weighted, bagged, and thrown in a sludgy, polluted river. This show might resurrect something previously known as "the pit," and if it doesn't, it should. Thrust your fists in the air, gentlemen, and celebrate the twelve packs a day you must smoke. JS

WAYNE HANCOCK, SALLY TIMMS & JON LANGFORD
(Berbati's Pan) Texan singer Wayne the Train adds a new edge and vigor to honky-tonk music of the '40s and '50s, without resorting to cheap sentimental nostalgia or jaded irony. Cowboy Sally and Waco Brother Jon were in the UK political band the Mekons, who, 15 years ago, eclipsed their punk roots to turn out similar music. Hillbilly and country music wasn't meant to be this intelligent, was it? ROLF SEMPREBON


SATURDAY 7/29

 

UGLY PARADE BENEFIT STARRING TONY MANGINI SHOW, LARUE
(Medicine Hat) There are few things I like better in this world than camp, cabaret, and musicals. Tony Mangini, the perverted cabaret man of local soap opera Ugly Parade, is the man for all those things, in a special star appearance that has all the flash of orange and brown glitter. LARUE is a fantastical martini of a DJ, pulling together the amazing flavor of a maraschino cherry and the panache of a space-age booty shaker. Meow! Dress well--gold lamè is definitely a viable option. I'll be the one in the fabulous pucci-print muu-muu, drinking Manhattan after Manhattan and talking like Auntie Mame. JS

KILL ROCK STARS SHOWCASE STARRING GINA BIRCH, SLUMBER PARTY, SUMAK
(Meow Meow) Gina Birch (of the mild-mannered, doe-eyed Raincoats, and the crunchier, angst-ridden Hangovers) joins Slumber Party, the caramel-coated gang of melodic she-elves. KATIA DUNN

GREEN PARTY BENEFIT STARRING WOLF COLONEL, DEAR NORA, BATTLE CAT
(EJs) Let's make a few things clear. The Green Party is not the "weed" party. In fact, it's the ONLY party you should even think of backing come November. What, you were gonna vote Gore as the better of two evils? He's just a chip off the ol' Clinton liars block. VOTE RALPH NADER FOR PRESIDENT! On the local level, VOTE LLOYD MARBET FOR SECRETARY OF STATE! His youthful constituents have organized this benefit to indie rock the vote. The Lewis & Clark posse sure know their stuff. Come out and hear Jason from Wolf Colonel expound on world-wide political horrors. SMASH THE DEMOCRAT-REPUBLICAN MONOCRACY! TED THIEMAN (Editor's note: Ted's pothead views do not reflect the views of our Editor, who hates fucking Ralph Nader, nor the views of our News Editor, who is mad at the Green Party cause he thinks they "should have Jello Biaflo," (sic) nor the views of our Editorial Assistant and Arts Editor, who couldn't give a shit but kind of wish the Dead Kennedys would get back together.)


SUNDAY 7/30


TOPIARY KINGS, MYKLE HANSEN, RICHARD MELTZER, JENNIFER ROBIN SPERM WHALE DREAMBOAT, JOSH LUBIN, JOSEPH BIALEK, CHELSEA VAUGHN MEAT FACTORY, ARCROT, LOUNGE X, MAGIC DOORKNOB TUBE SOCK TRASH KIT
(Ash St. Saloon) These days, it takes a lot for the kids to get riled up...after all, why would they want to leave the house for live action when they can stay home and play Final Fantasy VII, complete with swords, magic, and hot babes? Obviously, the cats responsible for the tongue lashing (and no, for once, this is not about strippers or fetishes) realized that to really get the kids going, you gotta go full-on entertainment: Words! Music! Performance! Excruciatingly long band names with subtle sexual imagery! A painful overabundance of exclamation points! And MEAT! JS (See My, What a Busy Week page 13)

ERIC HEATHERLY, LITTLE SUE
(Crystal Ballroom) Eric Heatherly, a Tennessee native, falls into the more mainstream (if you will) camp of new country. His sound is all Nashville, with slick production, safe song choices, and an all-around derivative feel. Mr. Heatherly is an excellent guitar player, more Chet Atkins than the country-metal stylings of other Music City axemen, and his voice falls into a range somewhere between Dwight Yoakam and Roy Orbison. But one begins to wonder when his label feels compelled to call-out his sideburns and clothing in their press junket. Little Sue, on the other hand, is the complete antithesis of the term "slick." Sue's no-frills-attached approach to new country owes quite a bit to Emmylou Harris and The Beat Farmers. But it's the lyrical content that really sets her apart. Honesty has never been in short supply in the country realm, but Sue's truth is blunt enough to make a casual listener feel guilty to being party to such intimacies. MURRAY CIZON

...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD
(Satyricon) Dear God, please bring tons of anthem rock to Portland, cause I fucking love it. I love music that makes me want to ride a bicycle or fly a helicopter or write a fervent review about anthem rock. I love bands that play actual music and aren't concerned about rhyming some stupid word with their lame band name or telling some dumbass story about how AJ got too drunk and fell off a goddamn picnic table. I'm a bitter, hateful person, and in a world full of A-Z apartment complexes, genetically altered, beakless chickens, and Christina Aguilera, I have little hope for anything--music included. Anyhow, my point is (I also hate boring writers that can't fucking get to the point) that this band is actually good. Their music is dark and fantastic, with chanting, bell-tones and distortion; they even have a song in which they yell "fuck you" a thousand times ("A Perfect Teenhood" from Madonna)--ideal for taping and distributing to the many moronic assholes that walk the earth. KATIE SHIMER

REVOLUTION PRESENTS STACEY PULLEN, JUAN ATKINS, SWAYZAK
(Ohm) Revolution, the latest entry into the future music-type magazine sweepstakes, is partly to thank here, but aside from snapping up a free copy at the door, attendees will probably be too busy stampeding into the Ohm to catch Detroit techno royalty Juan Atkins and Stacey Pullen, or Brits Swayzak, whose mix of hiphop, d 'n' b, ambient, house, and dub is far greater than the sum of its parts. LEAH GREENBLATT


MONDAY 7/31

JILL SOBULE
(Music Millennium NW, early) Jill Sobule, the adorable Sour-Apple-Jolly-Rancher-voiced lady whose label (Atlantic) gave her the shaft after two relative hits (the "I kissed a girl" song and the one from Clueless) and the theme to the most underrated movie of the '90s, Harriet the Spy (which, coincidentally, had a great soundtrack), does the record store circuit in support of her recently-released Pink Pearl album. Well...it's free, anyway. JS

BLANKS 77, SIXER, FORGOTTEN, KRAYS
(Pine St. Theater) Some of the best punk rock comes from Massachusetts, especially Central Mass, where the mill towns are gutted, warm Guinness flows like spittle from your Irish brethren, and the chances of getting knifed are higher only in DC (and maybe Hartford, CT). Blanks 77, from Quincy (okay,Eastern Mass) are snarling and dirty, with old school guitars that are flat, fast, and pure as the work ethic of a Worcester factory worker. JS


TUESDAY 8/1


SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE, NO KNIFE
(Pine St. Theater)Six years ago when I moved to this town, the first show I saw was a triple bill of Low, Sunny Day Real Estate, and Velocity Girl. Two of the bands were superb, and then there was Sunny Day Real Estate, who really fuckin' sucked. Worse than the music, though, was the sweaty, stinky guy down front with bushy red hair and beard, who banged his head and kept talking loudly about how great SDRE were. It was then that I learned one should never trust a band that has fans who stink. It pretty much stands to reason that the band themselves stink, too (literally and metaphorically). No matter how squeaky clean and God-fearing Jeremy Enigk wants you to think he is, I'd bet you your SDRE records that his underarms reek of microwave popcorn buttered with monkey poo. I know it hurst, but I'm only telling you this because I love you. Look for someone else to worship, because if you sell your earthly possessions and follow a Lord like Jeremy, you're just going to end up looking stupid by association. JSR


WEDNESDAY 8/2


NEKO CASE & HER BOYFRIENDS
(Berbati's Pan) Serious pipes are what Neko Case possesses, good enough to earn her comparisons to Nashville's grand dames. Sometimes she sings with her Boyfriends, sometimes it's just a girl and her guitar. Whatever situation, pretty Neko is one of the Northwest's strongest voices. KATHLEEN WILSON

HANSON
(Crystal Ballroom) Mmmm, boys. And young ones, too. The brothers three known as Hanson were part of the first salvo of the new teen invasion. They're the authentic ones--the cute kids who play and write their own songs. While this air of real musicianship actually hurts them on the flash factor (oh, come on, it's like watching "Baywatch" for the scripts!), it's all made up for by Taylor being so damn pretty he'd make even Eminem buy a buttplug and wear a wedding dress. He's really the kid to watch, now that his voice has broken and gotten all sultry. I vote his solo effort be a D'Angelo-style, "I wanna funk you up," sweaty sex-type thing. And you gotta feel a little sorry for the other brothers. Isaac was always earnestly homely, but Zac started out as the cute, little one. Then he hit his awkward phase and got stuck there. Even Macaulay Culkin got a longer shot at dreaminess! But anyway, Hanson are out proving they're in it for the music, hence this small club date. But forget the tunes--go and watch all the teenage girls get excited and jiggle themselves to death on the spring-loaded dance floor! Mmmm, yeah! JSR



GOING TO SEATTLE?

 

Thurs 7/27: Juliana Theory, Now She's Gone (Paradox); Jon Langford, Bingo (Tractor Tavern)

Fri 7/28: Sin Ropas, Sushi Robo (I-Spy); Blue Spark (OK Hotel)

Sat 7/29: Dead Moon, Starlite Desperation (Graceland); Carrie Akre, Jodie Watts, Braille Star (Sit & Spin); Weaklings, Valentine Killers, Jack Saints, Pure Rubbish (Breakroom); Ali Farka Toure & Afel Bocoum (Womad)

Sun 7/30: Love As Laughter, Pleaseeasaur, Octant, Supersprite (I-Spy); Hanson (Moore Theater); Miriam Makeba (Womad)

Tues 8/1:...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Rondelles, Mooney Suzuki (Crocodile)

Wed 8/2: Cracker (Showbox); Beach Boys (Pier 63/64); Gina Birch and Ida Atkinson (Crocodile)