THURSDAY 6/10

ROY, ROCKY VOTOLATO, MODERNSTATE
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) On Big City Sin and Small Town Redemption, Roy, featuring former members of Botch and Harkonen, proves hardcore guys can achieve melodic paradise without the Dashboard lite. With its polished hooks, catchy yet casual indie-rock arrangements and wry lyrics (I can't afford prescription drugs, opens one downer tune), Roy resembles a well-grounded version of Pavement. Former Waxwing frontman Rocky Votolato, another rocker dude gone sensitive, apparently can afford prescription drugs, though Suicide Medicine probably isn't industry-approved. On that late-2003 release, the angst-ridden crooner winningly tries his hand at protest folk, proving the political can also be intensely personal. ANDREW MILLER



YING YANG TWINS, AMANDA PEREZ, LLOYD
(Rose Festival) Ying Yang Twins are the closest thing I have to a guilty pleasure, mostly because I know they are so wrong but they feel so right. Wrong as in: persistently degrading to women, questionably caricatured persona, actually wrote the line "she's leakin'." Right as in: amazingly over-the-top, good dancers, great for shaking the money maker (a nicer term for ass than YYT might employ), shows are total snakepits of hedonism and decadence--and, like a rated-PG-13 Ace of Hearts, you can leave it at the door 'fore you go home. It's only five bucks (the fee to enter the Rose Fest), so, hey at least you can live out your duplicity in a frugal manner. Semi-up and coming R&B chanteuse Amanda Perez opens. JULIANNE SHEPHERD



TELEPHONE, THE PRIDS, GREEN CIRCLES, JACKIE
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) For some reason Telephone occasionally gets lumped into the "shoegazer" category, apparently just because they've been kissed by the Moog. But oops, cuz their music is fun, like a party on some composite plane of select Western World decades ('60s, '90sÉ). Then there's the Green Circles, with their slightly more Euro-goth take on danceable rock, the spastic, vintagey wailing of darlings Jackie, and The Prids. The Prids are shooting a video tonight, too, so look your vampiest to match their inky, inky rock. MARJORIE SKINNER



FRIDAY 6/11

HOLOCENE ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY: IQU, PANTHER, 01, DJS PAULO, HERMANITO, KEVVITUP
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Holocene, in one year, has evolved the landscape of Portland music. Straight up. And the boys running it have accomplished everything they set out to: hosted a wide range of electronic shows that normally wouldn't have made Portland a destination (from Funkstorung to Thomas Fehlmann--so many Germans!); provided a clean, classy but laidback venue, where the most ravenous of dancers don't have to worry 'bout getting freaked by some creepozoid from PDX minor outlying islands; remained non-smoking; organized a mini-golf tourney. And they've done so much they never predicted, like host legal gay marriages, trapeze artists, and macabre mini-puppet shows. How much do I love thee?! Tonight, super-cool Seattle electronic triple-sec Iqu join Portland performance genius Panther, and 01's sweet electronic pop, to celebrate. Plus house DJs Paolo, Herrmanito, and Kevvitup. (Who are OF the house, and also sometimes PLAY the house.) And it's free. Thank you, Holocene, for making Portland gobs more cosmopolitan. JS



MERCURY ANNIVERSARY PARTY: LIBRETTO, UNITED STATE OF ELECTRONICA, SWARMING HORDES
(Sabala's, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Read Entire Music page 19



THE FUR BALL: BASSNECTAR, SPARXX, THE NASTY STEP, DEAFCHILD, KREEPER, JEDX, JADEN
(Ohm, 31 NW 1st) So this is a big ol' honking DJ'd dance party revolving around the theme of fur. Fear not animal rightists; all comers are expected to don FAKE fur, as well as feathers, presumably fake as well. There will be a prize awarded to the best fur-clad outfit of the night as well as "Fur Ball pinata drops." Hopefully, your layers of fur will not make you too hot to shake that sweet booty. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS



HELIO SEQUENCE
(Music Millennium, 801 NW 23rd, ) Here's a special preview to Love and Distance, the Helio Sequence's first album in 9000 years, since they signed to Sub Pop and drummer Benjamin Weikel started hitting Modest Mouse's road-weary skins. More next week! JS



PIEBALD, THE JEALOUS SOUND, NORTHSTAR, DOWN TO EARTH APPROACH
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) I'd hate to say anything bad about Piebald and then go to the show and find out that they completely rock, but I'm guessing that won't happen. The once hardcore darlings turned indie-rock darlings turned straight-up-goofy-pop darlings seem to be on that slippery slope downward, and there ain't no goin' back. (And their pop songs are average at best.) But Piebald's live shows are always fun, and if you think about it, the band really has been more about good times than about making flawless music. The Jealous Sound, on the other hand, write sparkly clean pop songs that have my heart flying around the room trying to grasp onto Blair Shehan's smooth vocals as they escape from his lips. And live, the band manages to pull off that same warm, bright feeling as on disc. So final verdict? Eh, what the hell. MEGAN SELING



BLACKOUT RADIO, THE VOLUMES, THE KILLAWAYS
(Tonic, 3100 NE Sandy) Blackout Radio stomps the shit out of its audience, with hard core, sweat driven hard rock that's admirably tight and clean. The employment of a standup bass is what makes them even more special, giving their songs a strong, danceable ground. The Volumes take their jobs seriously, and they won't putz around or fuck you over. In fact, they're way more likely to go an extra mile with wild stage moves or funky costumes. It's always good to see some enthusiasm. MS



MONEYCHANGERS, THE STARVATIONS, THE WINKS, THE MINDS
(Twilight Café, 1420 SE Powell) While they've been together in some form or another since 1998, the Starvations have toured little, though they play the L.A. area constantly, and have managed only two long-players and a few singles. Hence they've remained from whence they came: in the underbelly. They take the trashed roots wrangling of the early '80s Slash Records era (X, Gun Club, Flesh Eaters, Blasters) and raise it up out of wannabe cowboy territory, but there's also a gothic heart and a few Bad Seeds mix tapes at the center of this band. Each release has shown a hard-won progression, a throwback to when bands concentrated more on retooling their sound than retaining their "brand." The Starvations' live show appears desperate and disheveled, but moves you like a gospel revival. ERIC DAVIDSON



SATURDAY 6/12

MARQUES WYATT, RITHMA, JSIN BOVA
(Ohm, 31 NW 1st) It's Om at the Ohm, as Om Records artists Marques Wyatt, a house DJ, and Rithma, who investigates vaults of hiphop and nu-jazz hit the decks. Wyatt is supporting his latest release, Horizons, a large plate of funky, shiny, friendly diva house: an affirmation of your good feelings, with no further questions. JS



OCTOFIST, SLEEPWALKER, BLOWNUPNIHILIST
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) In an ideal marriage of artist and venue, Octofist--whose sensory-overloading compositions feel like a bowling ball rolled between the ears--plays an alley well suited to its pin-crushing percussion. Currently, Octofist has only one disc, the recently re-released Buy One Get One, to its credit, but by the end of the year it will unleash the remix project Making Things Worse and Die Hard, Die Young, an OutKast-style, double-solo-album from members Slatkin and Noski. For the band's fans, that means plenty of previously unheard pulsing beats and guttural rumbles, with electronic blurts and blasts to spare. ANDREW MILLER



BLOOD RED SKY, HELLSHOCK, THRENOS
(Below Zero, 3532 NE MLK) Doomy, fast, and steely, Blood Red Sky are feelin' the punk metal in a bad way. It's absolutely contagious, with epic nightmares of relentless drums and mournful guitar breakdowns. Plus there's nothing hotter than a metal band with a chick singer. Xtina spits bullets, strong, scary, and sexy (and more than a touch reminiscent of the late great Wendy O). Bet they blow the roof off this little record shack. MSMS



THE FIRE THEFT, SHANNON WRIGHT, SWORDS PROJECT, POINT LINE PLANE
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) Ms. Shannon Wright is one of today's most compelling and enigmatic songwriters, letting out an exorcism of a wail as her jagged guitar and piano compositions jut forth. Her latest album, Under the Sun, sounds even more tortured than her previous, capturing all the hefty melodrama of her live show--an emotionally wrought experience, by all standards. Huge in France, later this year Wright will collaborate with someone who shares her grand musicbox mentality--Yann Tiersen, known to many as the composer of Amelie's magical soundtrack. [Now I will cease the studied restraint. AGRHwoiysadfJWJsih!!!! I AM SO STOKED!!!] She will be accompanied by drummer Christina Files, who's previously worked with Mary Timony, among others. JS



THE STILLS, SEA RAY, MIDNIGHT MOVIES
(Crystal, 1332 W Burnside) This week's cure for insomniacs. Despite the big push from their label Vice and all the lemming-like praise from the press, Canada's the Stills have yet to rise above being a boring band with a boring album that plays boring live shows to boot. You won't need a glass of warm milk with this one. JENNIFER MAERZ



THEE EVAPORATORS, HAIKU INFERNO, DOUBLE DUTCHESS
(Disjecta, 116 NE Russell) The live music act at tonight's event is Thee Evaporators, a catchy garage-y band led by a screechy fellow who goes by the name Nardwuar The Human Serviette. Haiku Inferno is exactly what the name suggests; an energetic group of performance poets who belt hilarious haikus, give martial arts demonstrations, and conduct tea parties. Meanwhile, Double Dutchess is officially the raddest thing ever: four smokin'-hot ladies who do the most amazing jump rope tricks imaginable to a kickass dance soundtrack. JWS



DEATH BY DISCO: BBQS, 40S AND SWIMSUITS W/SLEEPYHEAD, DEEJAY TEENAGE, KOTO
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Teenage spins your favorite dance tunes, Sleepyhead rocks the mic like a vandal, and its all to the theme of a 40-oz. beach party replete with swimsuit-clad babes and hunks, and a BBQ. It would be serious fun in the sun, were the Holocene located outdoors and not inside a cavernous warehouse. JWS



PERFORMANCE ART REVUE: THE BADGER KING, LLEWYN MAIRE, JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS III, HOUSE OF CUNT, DJ BIONIC OX
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) See Music pg 21



THE DEL TOROS, BITCHFACE, CATHOLE
(Porky's, 835 N Lombard) The Del Toros only want one thing, and that is to rip out some serious rock music. They're not politicizing or cutely exploiting their female gender, even though everyone expects them to do one of the two, which is incredibly refreshing. They hit hard and fast, with a sound that's mostly hyper biker metal, with the occasional perverted shriek or punk drawl coming out in the vocals. For a good time, call them. MS



SUNDAY 6/13

P.O.D., BLINDSIDE, HAZEN ST., LACUNA COIL
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) In news that discerning music fans embraced with arms wide open, Creed recently ascended to the big arena in the sky. Though these purveyors of lighter-lofting lameness might yet pull a Lazarus act, far superior missionary musicians remain, spreading the good word without resorting to ungodly power ballads. P.O.D. has brought brief rays of positivity to spiritually (and creatively) bankrupt metal-heavy lineups, including several Ozzfests. With its trippy transitions and brutal breakdowns, this jovial juggernaut embraces rap-metal's only intriguing elements while eliminating its ugly misanthropic edge. On the radio, tracks such as "Alive" can feel overinflated with optimism, but in an arena setting, these smiley singalongs are difficult to dismiss. Not that every act should be powered by feel-good fuel, but without groups such as Pollyanna's Own Downtuners, commercial hard rock would be a pointless parade of pity-ridden self-dismissals and what's-the-point surrenders. ANDREW MILLER



KID CAPRI, J-MAC
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) It's unfortunate that Berbati's is sort of a lousy place to dance, because if there's anyone who knows how to work a turntable, it's Kid Capri. He's produced tracks for people like Heavy D and Quincy Jones, and he's been making music since he was eight! JWS



MONDAY 6/14

LOW SKIES, RECLINERLAND, EX-HUSTLERS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) With the opening swirl of blowing wind and primal drums on "Down Below Him" from Low Skies' debut, The Bed, we are on familiar yet strange territory. The song plays like a souped-up Black Heart Procession, with drowned-Ophelia backing vocals echoing frontman Christopher Salveter's deep-voiced barstool prophecies on the chorus and murmuring beneath his lines. It's a great, creepy song and the rest of the album sustains and builds on that first impression. The stories on The Bed--full of the King James Bible, murder, Texas, dead babies, bloodlust, and plain lust--might give the listener the feeling that Salveter has listened to a lot of Nick Cave and read Carson McCullers and Flannery O'Connor; there's a very Catholic sense of retribution and punishment here. But an elegant loneliness suffuses Salveter's lyrics. NATE LIPPENS



BASKET TEACHERS, TRAUMA LE TRON, EVERYBODY'S DEBBIE
(Porky's, 835 N Lombard) Nobody's Debbie, at least not in this Bellingham-based band. In early riot grrrl form, this all-female five-piece focuses on emotional energy rather than technical precision. Its two guitarists generate rudimentary riffs, and Pia's conversational vocals communicate lyrics about meerkats and suicidal spiders without actually carrying a tune. But Everybody's Debbie generates so many high-speed garage-punk thrills that listeners won't miss the frills. ANDREW MILLER



WHITE WHALE, CARTER BROWN
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) Carter Brown frontman John Sears is Houston's sane Daniel Johnston. One of the most prolific, precious pop songwriters I've ever had the pleasure to know, Sears graced Sound Exchanges all over Texas with his weekly self-releases (all on cassette, all two songs with psychedelic, whimsical collaged covers) throughout the '90s before starting this sloppy, garagey cuddlefest around '98. He and flaming-hot guitarist Will Adams (whose two-man Huey Lewis cover band, Sports, exclusively played pool parties for years--PLUS the man can play that hot intro lick from AC/DC's Thunderstruck for, like, 10 minutes straight) deliver earnest pop hits prolly about sandwiches, bunnies and/or love. White Whale is Estrus!-esque, bomb-heavy and bear-fuzzy--if you don't flail around like a monkey child like everyone in southern Texas has been doing quietly for years, shame on you. JOAN HILLER P.S. I once saw frontman Will Freed punch his fist through a car windshield at a 40 party.



TUESDAY 6/15

AWOL ONE, EXITSTEREO, BRAD B, JAWA, PICKSTER ONE, FOUNDATION FEAT. SLEEP, OLDOMINION, HURT BIRD, BUKUE ONE
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) See MWBW pg 17



THE THRONES, SEDAN, DIE MONITR BATSS
(Disjecta, 116 NE Russell) Thrones enthusiasts will be thoroughly psyched to learn that Joe Preston currently has at least three projects in the proverbial pipeline. But that's not to say--anyone should start holding his or her breath. The first--and most overdue--offering is a new full-length entitled Lambda Lambda Lambda, to be released on Neurot Recordings, the label owned by Bay Area psych-metal sorcerers Neurosis. Says Preston, "I'm so late in working on it--they literally have been asking me to finish it for years--that I don't know if they even want to put it out anymore." The second is a compilation of singles, remixes, and unreleased tracks to be released on Southern Lord. "I'm waiting on two more DATs to show up and then it will probably be out in the fall," Preston reports. " A Day Late and a Dollar Short would be an apt title." The third is a three-inch CD of new Thrones material to be released on Preston's vanity label, Joe Preston's Solid Gold Records. "I have no interest in putting out other people's records," he assures us. "It's hard enough dealing with me." J. BENNETT



MOTION CITY SOUNDTRACK, LIMBECK, CHALLENGER, MAXEEN, HELLO GOODBYE
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) Al Burian, a man currently known for playing bass and singing in the Chicago band Milemarker and writing the zine Burn Collector (among other things), has begun to scratch yet another itch. Call it a side project if you want, but he calls it Challenger. While taking a break from Milemarker last summer, Burian and his Milemarker bandmate Dave Laney decided to start a band, a fun band. So they recruited friend Timothy Remis to play drums, later added their publicist Jessica Hopper on bass, and are touring on their first record, Give People What They Want in Lethal Doses. It's both musically and lyrically bitter, with songs commenting on current events as well as failed relationships, sometimes at the same time. But while it possesses a raw, angry edge, there's something about the record that's also very playful. Maybe it's because the attitude is unapologetically sour. MEGAN SELING