THURSDAY 7/29

MICE PARADE, HiM, THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music, pg 19



GINGER PRESTON, BOOK OF MAPS, UNDER MOUNTAINS
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) Book of Maps should rename themselves Book of Quotes. Song titles like "If We Were Black, We'd be Getting Pulled Over Right Now" and "Get Over It, Eve. Those Paw Tattoos Aren't That Hot" are pretty winning in and of themselves, without so much as a listen. Luckily, the songs that bear them are incredibly confident, a tiny bit mathy (but not like the nerd in math class with the runny nose, more like the genius punk rock kid whose insolence couldn't prevent him from testing into the gifted program), and crafted out of what appears to be a true worship of rock. The overall impression is that the music is very, very strong and it might kick your ass if you don't pay attention. Marjorie Skinner



PAPA ROACH, INSTRUCTION, DEAD POETIC
(Aladdin, 3017 SE Milwaukie) It seems the pseudo-angry, teen friendly band Papa Roach has been going through some changes. Not only have they evolved from an angry rap-metal band to an angry punk-metal band, but their tubby, baby-faced singer Jacoby Shaddix has gotten on the sobriety wagon. It seems good old Jacoby got caught up in the whirlwind that is international fame and fortune and his partying spiraled out of control. My advice to Jacoby: pick the bottle back up, that way maybe you won't be able to remember how much you suck. P.S. Papa Roach is touring for their new album, angrily titled, Getting Away With Murder. KATIE SHIMER



SUFJAN STEVENS, JOANNA NEWSOM, DENISON WITMER
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Continuing her Portland summer residency, Joanna Newsom (and her harp) returns for the second show in town in as many months. Newsom's riding high on the current "outsider folk" wave (due in no small part to the support of the movement's hesitant figurehead Devendra Banhart), delivering her fantastic tales with a voice that sounds suspiciously like she's auditioning for Annie. In contrast, Denison Witmer crafts an earnest sort of folk, free of hipster affectations. ZAC PENNINGTON See Music page 17.



FRIDAY 7/30

DEKE DICKERSON, TOO LOOSE CAJUN BAND, TRUDIE FALLS, DJ MURPHY
(Conan's, 3862 SE Hawthorne) Perhaps the most forward-thinking artist in a caravan rolling in reverse, Deke Dickerson plays ol'-time rockabilly, rhythm and blues, and hillbilly hop with striking vitality. While many of his nostalgic peers fall prey to Civil War recreationist-style, slavish step-tracing, Dickerson feels like a genuine original operating in the modern-day musical era. His latest release, 2003's In 3-Dimensions, marks this frozen caveman axslinger's most compelling episode yet, with sublime studio players fleshing out his raucous retro ride. ANDREW MILLER



LIFESAVAS, X-CLAN, DIVERSE, LIBRETTO, DJ KEZ
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) In 1990, a Brooklyn collective called X-Clan released a rap record, To The East, Blackwards. It was hugely popular and its message was strictly political and Afrocentric. X-Clan's leader, Brother J, had a calm, practical style that addressed such matters as black history, black pride, and black science. The X-Clan broke up after their second release, Xodus (1992), and presently Brother J is touring with a new generation of "poor righteous teachers." CHARLES MUDEDE



PRECURSOR, EBB & FLOW, SYNAESTHESIA
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy Blvd) Through the use of Moog licks and alternating, frequently chantlike male and female vocals, the Ebb & Flow sound both retro and futuristic at the same time. It's an interesting achievement; it's good, solid indie rock that's totally now, you know what I'm saying? And yet, it could, like, totally be the soundtrack to Logan's Run. (That's a 1976 sci-fi movie, in case my obscure nerd reference isn't "coming through" to you. And if you will, please observe how, like an onion, the layers of my critique peel ever deeper. Yes, Logan's Run was made in 1976, but it TAKES PLACE in the 23rd century. So you see, any song that appears on its soundtrack would have to simultaneously address the mid-late '70s AND a time hundreds of years later. The Ebb & Flow does this, and thus their name is truly apt, and I have just demonstrated why with typical wit and insight.) JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS



SATURDAY 7/31

FAST FORWARD, THRONES
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) A one-man Tasmanian devil of a performer, Fast Forward's show is over before you even realize he's been running around yelling for the past 10 minutes. Not surprising, since Fast Forward is onetime Le Shok member John Fones. JENNIFER MAERZ See My! What a Busy Week! Pg 15



KPSU BENEFIT: HOLLERTRONIX, DJ BEYONDA, PORTLAND GENERAL ELECTRO, DJ 4STAR, 31 AVA'S
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) It's time for a really good dance party. Sure there are plenty of dance parties, there's probably a few going on right now, and there's lots of decent DJs too. But how often are they really that good? Philadelphia's Hollertronix (Ninja Tune's Diplo and Low Budget) have the right mix of deep crates and technical skills to turn a room of nice people into a room of nice, sweating, dancing party people. I wouldn't be surprised if they had it guaranteed in writing somewhere. Like all good DJ's, Hollertronix have a good mix tape on CD format. It's called Never Scared and it's all about the fast and furious mashing up of booty-riffic break beats, rock and pop gems, super crunk southern hip-hop hits and b-sides, and some bhangra thrown in for good measure. Thanks to the good folks at KPSU who knew what we needed, this one should be unforgettable. AARON MILES



MINI-KISS, WE GOT THE MEAT, THE MISFATS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) In the '90s, during the first wave of tribute bands, I wasn't entirely convinced. Then came the gimmicks and irony and it just kept rolling and getting more elaborate untilÉ Mini-Kiss?!?! Jesus! It's little people in full Kiss regalia! Leprechaun wasn't that scary! What more (in a tribute band) could you possibly want? Giants? To that end, the Misfats have got you covered. Even if Danzig wanted to kick their asses, for perceived hegemony or whatever, I'll bet you the price of admission he couldn't. LANCE CHESS



PHARRAH PHOSPHATE, ODDS AGAINST TOMORROW, UHF, BLACK NIGHT CRASH
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) Nineteen-sixties supergroups set the standard for melodic moping. The Beatles expressed swelling-strings sorrow over a sparsely attended funeral; The Who revealed the deadened soul behind blue eyes; and the Rolling Stones simply painted everything black. But what a drag it is getting old. Despite ample subject matter, such as the deaths of friends and the ravages of age, the remaining members of these acts aren't writing fresh laments. Fortunately, current acts such as Portland's Pharrah Phosphate can cast a gloomy pall over psychedelic-era sounds. Their shows increase anguish exponentially by evoking images of an irretrievably lost era, like sublime harmonies wafting through the boarded windows of a shuttered museum. AM



SPACELORD
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) Ever tried heroin? If you're toying with the idea, this is as good an opportunity as you're going to get. Spacelord play very dark, instrumental, psychedelic, and absolutely narcotized rock n' roll. In fact, don't even bother if you've never done drugs--you won't get it. This music is dripping in drugs. But if you have and you do, you're in for a rich tapestry of missed trains of thought, creeping paranoias, and revelatory nothings--all channeled through the amps of three intense and snappily dressed young men. Hopefully the line for the bathroom won't be too long. MS



TEA FOR JULIE, EMPTY SET, CHARMPARTICLES
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Tea For Julie swells with luscious pop-rock nectars; their vocal melodies recall both the lilting melancholy of The Smiths and the refined angst of early '90s Radiohead, submerged in buzzing guitar hooks and bouyant drumming. The result is a consistent but adaptable sound that soars from graceful sonic craftsmanship to the heights of explosive, driving rock. EVAN JAMES



VIVA LAS VEGAS BIRTHDAY: DIAMOND TUCK & THE PRIVATES, COCO COBRA & THE KILLERS, THE NIGHTMARES, GOODTIME GILL & THE CHAMPAGNE BOYS
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne Blvd) Keep it real down and dirty tonight, by way of thanking Exotic editor Viva Las Vegas for all she does. Check out her band, Coco Cobra & the Killers, which she fronts in all manner of sex and sweaty glory, belting out hard rock/soft punk songs aboutÉ well, fucking mostly. Speaking of which, Diamond Tuck's ability to reference some type of genitalia in every single sludgy, sleazy, balls to the wall biker rock moment is truly commendable. Joining the cabal are the Nightmares, whose meaty, rasping rock is almost reminiscent of very, very early Guns N' Roses, except the feline-voiced, scary/sexy vocalist is a seemingly tough but tormented, tattooed lioness. If this orgy of tight pants and liquor breath is not enough to get you to get down, you are frigid. MS



SUNDAY 8/1

AUTOPILOT, VOODOO ORGANIST, MORGAN GRACE
(Twilight Café, 1420 SE Powell Blvd) The Voodoo Organist is a novelty act, but he's a fun one. Decked out in a Satanic red suit, he's a one-man haunted funhouse that growls campy horror tunes over organ/theremin licks. He won't scare you so much as he will tickle your funny bone, but hey, it's good to laugh sometimes. Sometimes the laughs are all we've gotÉ JWS



ELECTRO-ROCK-DANCE-HOP PARTY FEATURING: AWESOME COOL DUDES, LISTLESS AS IF FUNCTIONAL, CAC, ZEITGEIST
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) I like a good, spastic discharge of the hyphen as much as the next burned out writer, but what's even better than the name of this party is the fact that the Awesome Cool Dudes/Listless As If Functional team are calling this the "Perm Tour." And actually, it really will be an electro-rock-dance-hop-party, with the Dudes taking a modern, geekier take on the frantic and infectious good times pioneered by keyboard manufacturers and Prince. Or, "symbol." Does he go by Prince now again? I forget. Anyhow, aptly named Listless As If Functional is a lot more mellow and ambient, which provides nice contrast. But the Dudes are going to bring the party, fo sho. MS



NIKE RUN HIT WONDER TOUR FEATURING: DEVO, FLOCK OF SEAGULLS, TONE LOC, KAJAGOOGOO, TOMMY TUTONE, AND GENERAL PUBLIC
(Various locations, see www.running.nike.com for details) If you've somehow missed all of the ads that Nike has been drenching the airwaves with for the past few weeks, the Run Hit Wonder tour is probably a bigger bloodbath than you could possibly imagine. It's a Nike-sponsored footrace, with the tombstones of faded careers as mile markers. Of course, the big tragedy here is Devo--though I'm not altogether surprised. For years, the rumor has been that the only thing that would precipitate another Devo reunion is a healthy price tag--I guess we can assume those rumors confirmed. ZP



RATATAT, 1999, LUCKY DRAGONS, Y.A.C.H.T., BOBBY BIRDMAN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music, pg 17



MONDAY 8/2

SICK OF IT ALL, TIME IN MALTA, CHAMPION, TERROR
(Meow Meow) When Sick of It All issued its self-titled debut, it was hard to take the guys seriously. Despite that world-weary moniker, they looked like a high school dodgeball squad on the album's cover. But each gruff song left a permanent impression, like a series of sprints over a serrated surface. Blood, Sweat and No Tears sealed the deal, proving these streetwise Brooklyn boys could bludgeon like a broken bottle to the head before they were old enough to drink. Fifteen years later, the band's name again comes into question, because it seems that the Koller brothers will never tire of the hardcore grind. Not that there's any need to toss in the towel; Sick of It All still does brutal breakdowns better than anyone in the business. AM



WET CONFETTI, IN MUSEUMS, THE STRANGERS, KICKBALL
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) Get to know The Strangers: their mutiny of stunningly focused instrumentation includes virtuosic fiddling, hog-wild accordian, and slip-sliding bass guitar. The manic howling of their frontman will make you proud to be born in a barn. Also take note of In Museums, the latest configuration of the Intima's brothers, Alex and Andrew. After the rowdiness subsides, stay tuned for the seductive intimacy of Kickball; primadonna Jacob croons to the smooth keyboard caress of his backup band. Bring your own swoon. EJ



TUESDAY 8/3

THE BLACK PLASTICS, ANDI STARR, LEVEL ANCHORAGE
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy Blvd) There's nothing wrong with indie rock. Wait, let me rephrase that: there's nothing mortally offensive about indie rock. It's, you know, indie rock--classically listenable, emotionally indifferent, predictably formulaic--nothing to necessarily get too excited about. California's Black Plastics are, at this point, just the sort of band you'd expect to come from that Superchunk/Pavement lineage. Though it's evident in their dexterity that there's something more at work than the early '90s indie rehash--namely, mid-to-late '90s post-rock rehash--the group comes off, more often than not, sounding a lot like Death Cab For Cutie (not totally surprising, considering their latest EP, Black Heat Black Lightning Black Plastic, was recorded at the Barsuk-associated Tiny Telephone Studios). And, well, there's really nothing wrong with that. ZP



KIDS THESE DAYS
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne Blvd) Kids These Days play pretty simple, meek, tapping beat little songs which, frankly, aren't very compelling. One of the singers seems to be mimicing Thom Yorke but with a voice that vibrates, and comes off sounding really creepy. When the five members quit the restrained repetition and jam out a little, the results spark a mild interest, but still, the music needs a lot more ingenuity. KS



KOTTONMOUTH KINGS, OPM, BIG B, STRAWMAN
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Why don't all bands openly embrace marijuana, regardless of whether they actually smoke it? Fledgling musicians, put this in your pipe and smoke it: Just get some gigantic paraphernalia props to spice up the stage show, ask "do you like to get high?" a dozen times per set, dig into the cornucopia of cannabis-related album title puns (Royal Highness, Hidden Stash) and you too can take advantage of an addled audience that's stone crazy enough to shell out double-digit dollars to take a hit with the hitless. Most discerning listeners know to avoid the Kottonmouth Kings' skunky, funky punk like a stray syringe, but on April 20th of this year (4-20, dude!), the pot pack craved Fire It Up like babies weaned on nicotine pacifiers. AM



WEDNESDAY 8/4

ALBUM LEAF, TENDER BUTTONS, OVIAN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music, pg 17



STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, THROW RAG, THE GOD AWFULS
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) If band reunions are either outpourings of better-than-anything-now new material, live events orchestrating mass fan celebrations (Happy Mondays! Wire!), or a parasitic suck-attachment on the bloated demon-womb of super-pointless memory stimulators, the idea of Northern Ireland's Stiff Little Fingers back together (again) sits kind of alright (okay), and pretty much in the middle of all those possible scenarios. SLF were more interesting than The Ramones, yet after a spell in the late 1970s' second wave of punk, the band had already lost their political, youth-powered snot-fire niche, and last year's Guitar And Drum didn't help them from being perpetually stuck--known to a future audience as the band that was played for the girl from Roseanne in High Fidelity to show where Green Day got all their ideas. GUY FAWKES



TROPIX FEST FEATURING: GANG WAY!, THE KHANS, THE KILL ME, PILLOW FIGHT, SEX WITH GIRLS, MUSTAPHAMOND
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) It's hard to believe, but the seasonal monstrosity of Tropix rears its ugly head once again--beginning a touch early this year. The bulk of the festivities are reserved for next week and beyond, but to get things in the spirit of the season, Grand Central Bowl welcomes the first night of performances by a wide array of Mai Tai-suitable musicians--not the least of which is LA's Gang Way!, featuring the beloved Tami Hart, and members of the world's nicest hardcore band, the Wives. ZP