THURSDAY 9/2

ZEKE, THROW RAG, THE BRIEFS
(Ash St, 225 SW Ash) Seeing Zeke sign to Relapse Records is sort of like watching Slayer pop up on Fat Wreck Chords. Yes, most of Zeke's new labelmates also play at NASCAR speed, but these trashy thrashers bring a monster-truck feel to the party, whereas their metallic peers seem more concerned with actual monsters. Zeke's Relapse debut 'Til The Livin' End explores some Sabbath-style sludge, but for the most part it's another blinding blitz of squealing solos and feverish yowls stuffed into tiny timeframes. ANDREW MILLER



AMERICAN MUSIC CLUB, HOLY SONS
(Berbati's, 231 SW Ankeny) Here's a reunion show that might just happen to not suck. AMC leader, singer/songwriter and notorious lush Mark Eitzel has made some decent jazzy lounge music as a solo artist that travels the terrain between total heartfelt melodrama and ironic faux-sentiment. But rather than see him drunkenly croon some tune Dionne Warwick used to sing, this time he's back with his old, great band American Music Club. The band is touring just ahead of the Oct. 13th release of Love Songs for Patriots, their first new album since 1994's San Francisco. MIKE MCGONIGAL



BR549, DJ DICKEL

(Lola's Room inside the Crystal, 1332 W Burnside) Weathering a plethora of personnel changes and a major label divorce, BR549 has lasted long enough to rate a singles collection and are experienced enough to generate another album's worth of honky-tonk hits. It Ain't Bad for Work If You Gotta Have a Job, an import-only effort, delivers the rural wording and top-notch twang its title promises. A shouted request should be all it takes to get the group to unearth roadside antiques such as "Gone Hillbilly Nuts" or "Me 'n' Opie," but this set list won't be an extended trip down memory's gravel roads. That's because BR549 blazes new trails with 2004's Tangled in the Pines, which showcases the compelling chemistry between front man Chuck Mead and new guitarist/heir to bluegrass royalty Chris Scruggs. AM



BURNING SPEAR, OB, I & I
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) As the most recognizable and revered reggae figure in the non-Marley-moniker division, Burning Spear has a built-in audience that would be unconditionally receptive even if it weren't marijuana-mellowed. But the irie icon born Winston Rodney isn't one to rest on reputation. He still records, with relatively recent efforts such as Calling Rastafari and Spear Burning expressing his unwavering devotion to the genre's roots. And his live shows remain an invigorating celebration of music as an interactive, uplifting force. AM



FRIDAY 9/3

CEPHALIC CARNAGE, MISERY INDEX, WHORE, HYPERTHERMIA
(Conan's, 3862 SE Hawthorne) Medical-term dictionaries are to death metal bands what rhyming dictionaries are to fledgling MCs. Don't play pick-up Scrabble with a dude with an inverted cross branded on his forehead--he'll rack up a triple-word-score surplus with his encyclopedic knowledge of obscure multi-syllabic maladies. For that matter, never attempt to go note-for-note with these guys, because the choking-dog vocals and overtaxed-treadmill drumbeats obscure complete technical mastery. Cephalic Carnage (or severe head trauma, in layman's terms) aggressively fuses jazzy rhythm section bits, prog-rock time signature shifts, and mind melting thrash into a bludgeoning blur. AM



MARLEY BROTHERS, TOOTS & THE MAYTALS
(Crystal, 1332 W Burnside) In the middle of their best song, "Pressure Drop"--arguably the best song on the soundtrack to the really rad 1973 film starring Jimmy Cliff, The Harder They Come (which is saying a lot since that's a fucking great record)--the band who was the first to use the word "reggae" in a song title look back to their earliest days in Jamaican music. And before launching into the chorus, they stop to quote their first hit, the quaint, upbeat blue-beat number "It's You." It's sort of like the Maytals were vocally sampling themselves, but more likely it was like a cat marking its territory, an assertion to their audience at the time that they were those guys then and they're these guys now and they are here to stay. And what do you know, here it is another 30 years later and the Maytals still are capable of a funky, sweat-drenched, and even goose bump-inducing performance. MM



NO ON 36 BENEFIT: TARA JANE ONEIL, MIRAH, SARAH DOUGHER, DAPHNA KOHN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Woo nanny, things are heating up for the politically minded. In addition to doing everything in our power to keep a maniacal overlord from hurling our country into four more years of chaos, we have some same sex marriages to save on a local level. Tonight your favorite queer lady musicians play to raise money for the fight against the pointless and harmful Measure 36. Mirah is adorable and sweet, Sarah Dougher is intellectual and ambiguous, Tara Jane Oneil will rock you, and Daphna Kohn is an up-and-comer. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS



SEPPUKU, PAN TOURISMOS, BASTA
(Tonic, 3100 NE Sandy) Seppeku celebrates the release of a new album, while the Pan Tourismos, out of the limelight for some time now, reunite for another hurrah. Their bouncy, Dead Milkmen-inspired rock will have your head bobbing for days. JWS



THE HUSBANDS, DEAD MOON
(Twilight, 1420 SE Powell) Men will come and go, but the Husbands are here to stay. Pay no mind to the fake bloodstained bridal duds and possessed-doll costumes, and instead revel in the monster movie go-go moves and tough girl stance of this woman dominated San Francisco band. Former Lies guitarist/vocalist Sadie Shaw and vocalist/guitarist Sarah Reed prefer feisty shout-outs to classic soul sisters on their 2003 Swami debut, Introducing the Sounds of the Husbands to sulking over their ex-boyfriends. KIMBERLY CHUN



IAN MOORE
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See CD review this issue.



CAROL'S CHUMP
(Devil's Point, 5305 SE Foster) Carol's Chump plays slow sludgy rock with the winning combination of charm and sincerity, apathy, and a love of women and booze. One of their most brilliant lyrics goes something like, "You make me feel so small, when I'm alone I feel like a God." Recently, they just added a woman to the three-piece of men, which should bring an interesting dynamic. Add the fact that this show is at the Devil's Point, and you'd be silly to miss it. KS



MICHELLE MALONE, HILLSTOMP
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) Singer/songwriters' backing bands usually remain anonymous, save for the encore introduction ritual, but Michelle Malone's drummer Linda Bolley has made a name for herself. Reviewers and message-board posting fans alike praise Bolley's robust rhythm section work, sometimes even before addressing Malone's mammoth voice and Indigo Girls entourage pedigree. Rejecting Lilith fare, Malone opts for Southern-rock anthems, with the boisterous Bolley thumping the skins like a caffeine-crazed truck driver pounding the counter and demanding coffee. AM



SATURDAY 9/4

LOVELY, TYPHOON KILLERS, CO CO COBRA AND THE KILLERS, GALLOWS
(Ash St, 225 SW Ash) Refreshingly unreliant on posturing or angsty image pandering, the Typhoon Killers keep their punk rock with the emphasis on rock and musicianship. Fast, sweaty, and unintelligible, they add to that basis some good guitar work and the air of music made for honest, relatively clean fun. Lovely's more style-conscious, gravelly glam performance is a blast and will probably serve as a balancing antidote. MARJORIE SKINNER



TRINA

(Crystal, 1332 W Burnside) When Trina unveiled her clothing line Diamond Princess Wear, she told Allhiphop.com "$1,000 for a shirt--everybody can't afford that. It's going to be popular because everybody can rock it." One would think that such a champion of the cash-starved consumer would charge less than $40 for concert tickets, but these are tough times for Trina. Last fall, someone posing as her manager stole more than $300,000 from her hotel room at a North Carolina tour stop. More recently, Atlantic Records shelved her still-unreleased record, Glamorest Life, which was scheduled to hit the streets in May. "Leaving You," a track from that disc, credits Trick Daddy, Chingy, Busta Rhymes, and many other MCs with "big ol' dicks"; disappointingly, she doesn't use this forum to call out any rappers packing inadequate equipment. AM



MONSTER MAGNET, BONGZILLA, TRI-POLAR

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Opening for the Cult several years ago, Monster Magnet stole the show with fireballs punctuating a stripper-studded stage. "I'm sorry," flustered Cult leader Ian Astbury said at one gig. "We don't need all that." When Ian "Wolf Child" Astbury gets embarrassed by your excess, it's safe to say you're bringing the smokestack lightning. And keep in mind Monster Magnet was just a warm-up act back then--imagine the creative ways this hell raising headliner might illustrate new tunes such as "Slut Machine" and "Radiation Day." AM



THE KINISON, THE AKA'S, KILL RADIO, ROCK AND ROLL SOLDIERS

(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) The Rock 'n' Roll Soldiers play highly charged, hooky garage pop, flirting with massive explosion. These kids just inked a major label deal, but before the debut album drops, they've got to spread the word live. And with their high-energy ethic, and high-stepping singer sassin' around the stage, it's easy to feel the current. This is the kind of show that you can bring anyone to, and they'll dance and sweatÉ and if they don't, they're probably some goth who hates fun. ANDREW TONRY



APE SHAPE, BRAILLE STARS, SNUGGLE UPS, CALVIN JOHNSON
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) Everything about this show screams "cute": from the adorable Snuggle Ups to the king of the cutest town on earth, K Records' Calvin Johnson. If this show had happened 10 years ago, it would have been sponsored by Sassy magazine. Right now, it's merely quintessential Portland: spastic dance rock? Check, courtesy of the Snuggles and CJ. Dreamy rock with an old school front woman? Check, courtesy of the Braille Stars, featuring Gilly Ann Hanner, an alumn of Calamity Jane, Semi-Sweet, and Number 2, among others. Nineteen-year-olds in cat eye glasses and knee socks? The floor of Nocturnal (coincidentally, the most adorable club in town) will be full of them. Get your cute on. CORTNEY HARDING



SUNDAY 9/5

NICKELBACK, PUDDLE OF MUDD, 12 STONES

(Clark County Amphitheatre, 17200 NE Delfel Rd, Ridgefield, WA) Nickelback rents a practice space behind your mom's house in Beaverton. Wooden shack, tall weeds, crushed Bud cans in the grass. The music you hear coming from it is half Canadian Bob Seger, half grunge-free Pearl Jam. Sometimes they come out of the shack and look just like you'd imagine--hesher hair paired with the expensive Italian gigolo clothes you'd expect from selling 99.9 billion copies of their last record, The Long Road. How'd these next doorsy, hicky dorks make it onto MTV and the Spider-Man soundtrack? Ask your mom. She's dating the bassist. God bless America. I mean, Canada. ADAM GNADE



VAUX, HOPESFALL, HEAD AUTOMATICA, A THORN FOR EVERYHEART, ARKHAM
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) Vaux once supported Andrew W.K. on tour, and any extended association with scuzz rock's most disarming diplomat qualifies as a goodwill gesture. This Denver-based sextet is no longer sharing stages with the manic reincarnation of Mr. Rogers, but fortunately its three-guitar attack generates enough raw power to give the group its own buzz. And if that's enough, it can rely on a literal smokescreen, the result of its pyrotechnic displays. Vaux is with child, bearing an EP that will burst forth from its bloated belly on September 21, so onlookers can put out their hands and feel the new songs kick. AM



FACE TO FACE, MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE, SECONDS TO GO
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Hey! Face to Faaace! Long time no see! You still playing pop punk? No? You're playing "melodic, passionate punk"? Sounds... kinda different, I guess. How's it going for you? Breaking up?! Jeez. Your last tour? Wow. Got any new music out? How to Ruin Everything? It came out two years ago? Oh, no thanks, I thinkÉ yeah, I think I already have a copy somewhere. What do I think of it? Oh, y'know, I've been really busy. Haven't had much time to catch up on myÉ what? Dinner before the show? No thanks. I gotta go. Yeah. Sorry. No hugs. No. Bye. Yeah. Bye. AG



MONDAY 9/6

LABORERS' PARTY: LOCH LOMOND, BLACK BIRD RED, JOHN WAYNE SAMURAI
(Berbati's) Oh yeah, right, Labor Day. It's that one holiday with the relevant point. Take the day off from your crappy/cush job, sleep in, and party for the hard won rights of laborers. Unfortunately, you don't have the right to take Tuesday off because of a Labor Day hangover, so keep it light with the folky, mellow rock of performers like Loch Lomond and John Wayne Samurai, and gossiping at the bar over the Calendula controversy. Plus, this show is free, so you have no excuse not to make it. MS



TUESDAY 9/7

BEBEL GILBERTO, DJ B.DUB
(Crystal, 1332 W Burnside) Mark my words, this show will get more people laid then any night at the Ace of Hearts. Bebel Gilberto makes the sexiest music ever (her previous record, Tanto Tempo, was my most reliable booty record for two solid years) and her performances are so erotically charged that the Crystal Ballroom is sure to become an orgone box. The daughter of João and Miùcha Gilberto, who basically invented Bossa Nova, updates the sound by collaborating with electronica artists like Arling and Cameron, resulting in swinging, ultramodern music. This is music for the new modern lovers. CH



THESE ARMS ARE SNAKES, ENGINE DOWN, BRAZIL, CLARITY PROCESS

(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) These Arms Are Snakes' raw, beefy, bloody, Grade A USDA Choice new record, Oxeneers or The Lion Sleeps When Its Antelope Go Home, drops on the 21st. Expect hardcore reborn as passionate revelation--guitars blasting and crying like angels, drums and keys rapturing right out of the room, while singer Stevie throws himself toward the rafters, totally 110% sweating and screaming and full-voice singing like he's breaking the news of the coming apocalypse. This show will kill all that is evil in the world with a 30-ton poison dart to the eye--I promise. AG



THE BLACK KEYS
(Music Millennium, 801 NW 23rd, 4 pm) In the wake of all Stripes that be White, the Keys of Black have maintained themselves a perfect position just below the crest of TOO much attention from the "mainstream." Which is not surprising. The BKs ain't so "indie" friendly, rather they're closer to what I was promised from the pre-fame White hypeÉ which was the "NEW Gories!" Anyways, the BKs are a duo who swing R&B straightforward, with a bit of a lazy, groovin' "blue" mood... much like the great Jr. Kimbrough or R.L. Burnside. And, thankfully, the BK's chops are solid enough they don't bother gettin' riffy or frantic, like most other contemporary blues/garage bands, and the guy doesn't scream, he actually sings... soulfully. So much so that I know a handful of unknowing folks who, on seeing 'em, were rather amazed a how "authentic" they soundedÉ for two white kids. MIKE NIPPER



WEDNESDAY 9/8

KEANE, FRENCH KICKS
(Berbati's, 231 SW Ankeny) Oh Frenchies, how you've grown. From fledgling guitarists who flew Oberlin's coop, to the quintessential move to Brooklyn and happy handshakes with StarTime, to finally embarking on what was to become your own trial of the century: the fight to earn authentic cred within an overcrowded faction of like-sounding piano rawk bands, each of them the big fish of their respective small, liberal arts-lovin' ponds. Two stellar albums, countless international tours, and a week-long Carson Daly residency later, you've made it: your harmonies are sweet, your hairdos appropriately messy, and your music is quality stuff. Too bad the Joggers' Jake was only a temporary resident at your drum kit, though. That would have been hot. LAUREN VIERA



FINCH, RECOVER, COUNTERFIT, BETA FACTOR

(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) While Finch might be herding in the kiddies tonight, it's Counterfit who will win them over. This San Diego via Connecticut band is a mashed-up collection of all that is good about hardcore (energy and stomping about the stage like a histrionic child), with all the smarts and creativity of indierock's finest. It's such a simple concept one wonders why no one has done it before--if they have, it's never been this good. EZRA ACE CARAEFF



ANTIQUARK, DJ DANTRONIX
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) San Diego's Antiquark don't like you. They don't want you going to their shows and they don't want you to listen to their music. They show this by sounding abrasive and acting like dicks, so unless you're down for a little Nico channeling set to no wave hysteria, you're better off checking out something friendlier--like Josh Groban. BUT there's a chance that you--like me--are in the small group of idiots that live for this garbage. The type of fools that like Yoko Ono non-ironically and thought Black Dice was rad pre-intellectualization. We're the ones dancing at shows like this--I love us. AG



NICK LOWE
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) See Music, pg 13