THURSDAY 11/4

BAD WIZARD, I CAN LICK ANY SOB IN THE HOUSE, THE WITNESSES
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) The Witnesses are basic bar-band rock with a tour van. Bad Wizard have that same earthy classic rock thing going on, but they're like the drunken offspring of the Riverboat Gamblers and Zen Guerrilla (catchy, heavy, lots of hair). And the last time I saw them play forever ago, Bad Wizard's frontman got so drunk he took off his shoes and pulled out his dick. JENNIFER MAERZ



MELISSA FERRICK, TEGAN AND SARA
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) One-time violin prodigy Melissa Ferrick is used to playing second fiddle; even her fans call her "the other Melissa" in deference to Ms. Etheridge. As a hard-touring independent artist with an aggressive acoustic approach, she then attracted endless comparisons to Ani DiFranco. While DiFranco now plays full-blown funk with a big brassy band, Ferrick still prefers stripped-down showcases, with only an occasional drummer or lap-steel player in tow. And none of the aforementioned artists has ever recorded a tune as tawdry as "Drive," an explicit ode to lesbian love that the ready-to-grind Ferrick sometimes segues with Prince's "Darling Nikki." ANDREW MILLER



TIFT MERRITT, MINDY SMITH, GARRISON STARR
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Well,

www.tiftmerritt.com crashed my computer three times before I finally gave up and headed for

www.mindysmith.net , where the big hit is a glossy alt-country single called "Come to Jesus." It's nice to know the Good Lord is looking out for me, leading me toward the Websites of the Righteous. JWS



ORSO, INVISIBLE, ADELAIDE
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



FRIDAY 11/5

CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, RADIO NATIONALS
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) You know when a band reminds you of a certain really good time in your life, and every time you listen to their old CDs it's like playing a Super 8 film of going to their shows and making out with cute boys and hating high school, but then they reunite and you see them play at SXSW and they seem a lot older and a lot slower, and it makes you really sad? Me too. JENNIFER MAERZ



COCO COBRA & THE KILLERS
(Devil's Point, 5305 SE Foster) See Music Bio, Pg 29



GOGOL BORDELLO, DEVOTCHKA
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) Made up of immigrants from Russia, the Ukraine, and Israel, Gogol Bordello now lives in New York where they draw from the traditional musical influences of their countries as well as their love of punk rock 'n' roll. Not to be missed, the live show has been known to feature Brazilian drummers, throat singers, and ballerinas. Openers DeVotchKa were described by CMJ monthly as the best unsigned band in America. No wonder nobody reads that magazine anymore. JED MAHEU



MEDESKI, MARTIN & WOOD
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) For 12 years, this New York trio has been almost all things to almost everybody without pandering or blanding out. With enviable dexterity and flexibility, John Medeski (keyboards), Billy Martin (drums, percussion), and Chris Wood (basses) reinvigorate classic '60s soul jazz and funk, incorporate world influences into trippy excursions (jam-band fans adore MM+W), and go off on some odd tangents that get downtown NY avant-gardists all hot under their hair shirts. The new End of the World Party (Just in Case)--robustly produced by Dust Brother John King--reaffirms MM+W's impeccable versatility and virtuosity, and these honkies got soul, too, bro. Whether you're a gearhead marveling at the group's chops or you just want to dance your ass off, this gig will satisfy your needs. DAVE SEGAL



ARIEL PINK, GREG DAVIS, SIGNER
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music, Pg 17; My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



PSYCHIC TV, DREAMS IN EXILE, SORIAH
(Sabala's Mt Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Genesis Breyer P-Orridge's not the man he used to be. The 54-year-old ex-pat Brit/Brooklyn denizen, along with his partner/Psychic TV bandmate Lady Jaye, has been modifying his body as part of a performance-art project called Breaking Sex: Pandrogyne. Striving to fuse their beings into one, they now have identical two-tone haircuts, matching breast implants, and faces that have been altered to make them as similar as possible. The provocateur who fronted nihilistic subversives Throbbing Gristle from 1975-81 and invented industrial music in the process now rocks the MILF look. Whatever floats the boat. DAVE SEGAL



ROLLERBALL, MASTER MUSICIANS OF BUKKAKE, POINT LINE PLANE
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) A hodgepodge regional of experimentalism, tonight features the fluid schizophrenia of Portland's Rollerball, the trancey psychedelica of Seattle's Master Musicians of Bukkake (part of the Sun City Girls' extended family), and the comparatively poppy squelch of Point Line Plane. Earplugs advised. ZP



LAURA VEIRS, JAMES LOW BAND, NATE ASHLEY
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, Pg 17



SATURDAY 11/6

AMADAN, BLACKOUT RADIO, KILLAWAYS
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy Blvd) At the very least, there's something to say about Amadan, who distinguish themselves as a six piece Irish punk rock band. They take Celtic dance music and load it up with guitar riffs and burly vocals, inciting beer guzzling, jig dancing, and general tomfoolery. This isn't your Grandpappy's Irish band. KS



...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD, DANCE DISASTER MOVEMENT, FORGET CASSETTES
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) Get ready to cup your crotch and layer your socks because this show is gonna be sassy and so, so sweaty. Not even Portlanders will be able to restrict themselves to head bobbing in the presence of Dance Disaster Movement's robotic retard dance moves and obstreperous no wave dance punk. These guys are in the same vein as the Ex Models but a bit easier to chew on and their energy is uncontrollably mesmerizing. Go to this show. JENNA ROADMAN



COL. CLAYPOOL AND HIS BUCKET OF BERNIE BRAINS
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Jesus. A veritable smorgasbord of antisocial wankery all wrapped up in one phenomenally unattractive package, C2B3 is essentially three parts Praxis (Bill Laswell's all-star jam factory), plus Primus frontman Les Claypool--but really, it's so much more than that. First, you've got two dudes from the Primus front (the Colonel and drummer Brain), then you've got the seemingly coked-up keyboard master Bernie Worrell (former of Parliament/ Funkadelic and Talking Heads), and last but certainly not least, the creepy cult that is Buckethead. All in one band! It's like a geek rock circle jerk! I hope the Roseland has some extra mops on hand. ZP



DANCE CARD, THE CUT OUT HEARTS, XERO PHONES
(Kelly's Olympian, 426 SW Washington) Don't be fooled--Dance Card are, in fact, not danceable at all. They do, however, provide a morose bass ridden husky rock, topped with natural screams and disgruntled antics that are sure to please those of us most displeased with life (those of us that know what band we're showing up for, anyway). JR



THE DWARVES, POISON IDEA, FITZ OF DEPRESSION
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



THE GREAT ACE RACE & TROPHY/VICTORY PARTY W/DIAMOND TUCK & THE PRIVATES
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) In a town obsessed with pirates it's only natural that we have community treasure hunts. The Great Ace Race is put on by Diamond Tuck of the Privates notoriety, which guarantees a seedy good time. Round up a posse of five or less, cobble together a team uniform, and cough up the $100 registration fee, and be prepared for some ruthless scavenging in this take no prisoners, no points for second place race/scavenger hunt. The trophy/victory party (which is free, BTW) will feature your last friggin' chance to get down with the sex-obsessed cock rock of Diamond Tuck, before he moves to Spain to "pick up exotic STDs." MARJORIE SKINNER



THE PRIDS, JACKIE, SUBMARINE FLEET
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



HOT ROD CIRCUIT, STRAYLIGHT RUN, NORTHSTAR, SAY ANYTHING
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd Ave) Twenty-year-old Say Anything mastermind Max Beemis isn't very shy when talking about his instability. In fact, he based an entire record on it. Finding inspiration in his awkward self-image, Beemis created a character for his new record, …Is a Real Boy, who can't help breaking into song whenever he's overcome with strong emotions. Putting his feelings under a microscope, Beemis stripped himself down to the basics, examining himself, his moods, and the reasons behind them. The result is a concept rock record that goes back and forth between calling bullshit ("Admit It!") and cowering in doubt ("The Futile"). MEGAN SELING



UNKLESOUNDS
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) UNKLE have lost the plot. Their early releases for band leader James Lavelle's Mo' Wax still sound vibrant, taking down-tempo funk and instrumental hiphop to astral planes where few have dwelled. But now UNKLE feel the urge to "rock," and they've succumbed to a bombastic-is-best mindset. Not that they're horrible at this style, but their tunes cloy rather than uplift, and even appearances by Massive Attack's 3D, Brian Eno, and Stone Roses' Mani and Ian Brown can't rescue the widescreen Never, Never, Land from overwrought blandness. For tonight's show, UNKLE masterminds Lavelle and Richard File plan a "decks and effects" multimedia presentation of the band's old and new songs. Pray they do "The Time Has Come" and "Berry Meditation." DAVE SEGAL



SUNDAY 11/7

BAD AT MATH, THE SHARP EASE, HUSTLER WHITE
(4126 N Commercial) No matter how many new clubs spring up around town, there will always be a special place in Portland's heart for the house show. After all isn't that why we're supposed to be so lucky to live here? 'Cuz kids get to live in real houses with real basements instead of crammed into cheap apartments and dank warehouse spaces, right? AND to further kiss the P-town ass, our house shows are marked by actual talent--such is the overflowing cup of it here. Do not miss the raucous Hustler White, a slowly simmering band that's on an upward, increasingly hot trajectory within our dear little scene. MS



THE FAINT, TV ON THE RADIO, BEEP BEEP
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) The last thing most indierock is guilty of is a gospel influence, and the last thing most gospel influence can be called is subtle, but TV on the Radio, cream of the Williamsburg crop, can claim both qualities (should they care to). In addition, they are really smart, super cool, and spilling over with heavy, groovy, rhythmic splendor. SEAN NELSON



MONDAY 11/8

CARLA BOZULICH
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Sure, former Geraldine Fibber Carla Bozulich is going to be sliding through Portland again next Thursday--the second show of her brief stint supporting the newly-Nels Cline-d Wilco. But if you've any sense at all, you'll skip that Sold Out snore-fest and hit up this intimate evening with Bozulich, whose recently released I'm Gonna Stop Killing beautifully expands upon her solo debut, a song-for-song recreation of Willie Nelson's Red-Headed Stranger. ZP



GEORGE CLINTON & THE PARLIAMENT FUNKADELIC
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) God knows what layer of the Parliament stratum George Clinton is unearthing for this tour (note that Bernie Worrell is playing in a different band earlier this week), but you better believe that the most sampled band of all time is going to be bringing out the hippies in spades. Which is probably enough for you to stay home. ZP



GREEN MILK FROM THE PLANET ORANGE, TU
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto joined King Crimson in 1994, helping to solidify the prog supergroup's evolution from ornately orchestrated numbers, feathery flute-speckled minstrel folk and incomprehensible instrumental squiggles to lead-plated grooves, avalanching crescendos and crackling feedback. This week, they kick off their tour as Tu, a duo who's songs approach musical pointillism--intricately arranged dots of sound that ultimately constitute majestic compositions. ANDREW MILLER



TED LEO & THE PHARMACISTS, LUCERO, THE LASHES, THE REPUTATION
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



MCLUSKY, YOURCODENAMEIS: MILO
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, Pg 17



TUESDAY 11/9

BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE, MELLOWDRONE, COCAINE UNICORN
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Music, Pg 19; My, What a Busy Week! Pg 14



ENTRANCE, GLASS CANDY AND THE SHATTERED THEATER
(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) Entrance is the stage name for Guy Blakeslee, whose basement blues have been collected in a new disc of lo-fi wanderlust, Wandering Stranger (Fat Possum). His wailing, whimpering vocals tremble across finger-picking acoustic guitar work, fleshing out the sparse singer-songwriter thing with a range of off-kilter emotion. JENNIFER MAERZ



FROG EYES, SUBTLE
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd Ave) It's hard to say what exactly Subtle (featuring members of Clouddead and Themselves) does, but it involves a lot of dark distortion, heavy jazz beats, and lyrics like, "The moles on my penis remind me of skulls/ and all the doctors who would quickly/ cut them off and eat them/ as they take down art in hotel hallways." The cumulative effect is a dreamy tornado of fuzzy ambience, interspliced with moments of clarity in the form of strikingly tender synth melodies. JWS



STAN RIDGWAY, DEVOTCHKA
(Dante's, I SW 3rd) That voice. There's no mistaking it. The adenoidal snarl immortalized on the 1982 MTV hit "Mexican Radio." The one that challenged "Don't Box Me In," over the credits of Rumble Fish, and scaled the UK top five in 1986 with "Camouflage." It's the voice of Stan Ridgway, original singer for Wall of Voodoo. And while it's not quite the piercing bark it once was, it still has plenty of bite. KURT B. REIGHLEY



WEDNESDAY 11/10

DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE, PRETTY GIRLS MAKE GRAVES
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) A twosome of Seattle's most heavily hyped bands hits the Crystal with yawning intensity--palatable pop pap that'll probably stand a good chance of resonating if you've just had your first period. Rumored to be vying for the Majors, Death Cab For Cutie's agreeable indie pop gets blander with each subsequent record--while Matador's well-meaning pop punk darlings Pretty Girls Make Graves continue to dilute their hardcore roots like watered-down Kool-Aid. Not that there's anything particularly offensive about either band (part of the problem, perhaps)--it's just disappointing to think that industry bands are all my home town is known for anymore. ZP



KAYO DOT, DORIEN
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) With lyrics that address starry wayfarers and swirling ballerinas, to say nothing of ye olde syntax ("I'll bless thy name when dreameth I of thee"), Kayo Dot is more Renaissance Festival than Ozzfest. Sixteen members, among them horn players, violinists, six guitarists and at least one budding poet, contribute to the band's baroque epics. Yet there are some jagged peaks among the symphonic swells, remnants of the group's origins in the heavy yet unimposingly named group Maudlin of the Well. The sprawling Massachusetts-based collective has better doom-metal chops than any act that ever implored "kiss the moonstones from my eyes." AM



LES SAVY FAV, SMOKE AND SMOKE, COBRA HIGH
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd Ave) On Love Suffers Long, Spencer Moody's new band Smoke and Smoke delivers a scorching comment on stark observations and the ugly sights they may reveal. Seattle can spawn beauty and it can just as easily suck the life right out of it, and while former Murder City Devil Moody swings from homage to contempt for the city he grew up in, the rest of his band--bassist Mike Kunka and drummer Dan Haugh (the power duo of the late godheadSilo)--pound out a blood-pumping sonic swell as melodious as it is seizing. Love Suffers Long is a proud (albeit brief at under 30 minutes) debut from this rarely seen band, a record that feels as solid and hard as a plank of hickory to the back of the head, and suggests the beauty of nature is quite possibly in a state of ruin. KATHLEEN WILSON



WARLOCKS, DEAD MEADOW, THE OUT CROWD
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) Dead Meadow's bong-psych approach to celebrating the Holy Sabbath is filthier than Kelis' hot-pink thong, and 10 times as sludgy. The trio's colorful Matador effort, Shivering King and Others, explored Deep Purple and Blue Cheer territory through rose-colored glasses with epic plodders like ,"I Love You, Too" and "Good Moanin.'" When triple-thick fuzz churns deep riffs toward almost hypnotic highs, it's like J. Mascis on a sick Southern-fried bummer trip, but backward for satanic effect. What's stunning about these kids is how calculated it all is, and how automatically it flows. Spring reverb, tape echo, and PBR go together really well, by the way. JOAN HILLER