THURSDAY 9/8

BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE, THE HIGH DIALS, RICHARD SWIFT

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Secretly Canadian's introductory offering to Richard Swift comes as two previously released records, each highlighting his knack for transcending musical generations. The Novelist, Swift's eight-song, 19-minute mini-opus opens as an archivist sound collage of gramophone scratches, bird songs, and Jazz Age horns before giving way to the muffled drum machine and piano of ghost-pop hit "Lady Day." On "Lovely Night" New Orleans funeral horns rub elbows with Lennon/McCartney and "Sadsong St." is a bit of ragtime melancholy. Ending this genius faux-Smithsonian collection is "Looking Back, I Should Have Been Home More," a Waits-ian piano number recalling Nighthawks at the Diner minus the Lucky Strikes. The flipside, Walking Without Effort, jumps from Vaudeville lounge to '70s nightclub where Elvis Costello, Leonard Cohen, and M. Ward take turns at Burt Bacharach's piano. Clocking in at just over 30 minutes, Walking Without Effort is a tiny hit-fest of Swift's earnest voice and instrumental layering. Given that Swift's press materials stress his intention to "never make the same record twice," this double-disc shows he's off on a good foot. BRIAN J. BARR

DIESTO, BLACK ELK, ROARING LIONS

(Fez, 316 SW 11th) For the Jesus Lizard fan that can palate a bit more screaming and heavy metal crunch in their diet comes the cleverly named Black Elk. Wadsworth guitar hero Erik Trammell and bassist Donnie aren't nearly done pummeling Portland with math and muscle-bound riffage. With bald, brash Knight Badger singer Tom Glose and a powerful rock drummer supporting, this fearsome foursome bash out hard party anthems that meld Black Flag attitude with Melvins sheer tonnage. Noise rock mainstays Diesto headline with their lineup du jour, and Dave Blunk's new outfit Roaring Lions open the evening. Bring earplugs, diapers, flasks, and other survival tools at your discretion. NATHAN CARSON

JEAN GRAE, MEDUSA, SIREN'S ECHO, DUSTED DONS

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Music, pg 18

COLIN MELOY, ROBYN HITCHCOCK, CROOKED FINGERS

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) No offense to admirable word warrior Colin Meloy, but WHO THE FUCK GAVE THIS LINEUP THE GREEN LIGHT? After a solo career of 20-plus years crafting some of the world's most acclaimed weirdo-pop music, Robyn Hitchcock is now opening for an acoustic set by the guy from the Decemberists? There is officially no justice in this world. ZAC PENNINGTON

7 DEADLY SINS FEATURING ?FACT OR FICTION

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) This female duo is a trip for the first song. They've put more effort and materials into building their set than your average fourth grader stage crew of Johnny Appleseed—complete with an eerie castle wall, plenty of dry ice, and a red-eyed skull head that lip-synchs along with the tunes. The guitarist—the Need's Radio Sloan costumed in a Jim Peterik wig—shreds with reckless abandon along with "bloopity-bleep" pre-recorded tracks for the entire set. The front woman, on the other hand, stands motionless as monochromatic dribbles of excruciatingly off-key notes fall flat onto the mic she has jammed into her face. The anticipation is painful. At any moment you expect her to belt out a huge horror flick scream to rival the guitarist's shredonics and get the party started. But it never comes. They should try sticking the mic in front of ol' Skullhead to see what happens. JENNA ROADMAN

FRIDAY 9/9

TORI AMOS, THE DITTY BOPS

(Clark County Amphitheater, Ridgefield, WA) Bleakest of skeletons in the closet... deep breath now... okay, so I totally listened to Tori Amos when I was a freshman in high school. And still own a few of her records. And still adamantly contend that they have significant artistic value. And actually considered going to this show. So the next time I shit-talk your band in print, take solace in the fact that my opinion is absolutely worthless. ZP

BOBBY BARE, JR, TELEPHONE, DOLOREAN, ELVIS HUXLEY, RUBY DOE

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Bobby Bare, Jr. has HUGE, skyscraper-size cowboy boots to fill. Dude's dad was—duh—Bobby Bare, who scored a ton of country radio hits, cut records with Shel Silverstein, and was called the "Bruce Springsteen of country" by legendary promoter (and legendary douche) Bill Graham. He also did some pretty respectable movie acting, toured with Rob Orbison and was signed to RCA by Chet Atkins himself. But while country music youngsters generally diarrhea-fart all over the legacies of their famous kin (Hank II, III, Rosanne Cash, I'm talkin' to you!) BBJ is surprisingly unshitty. His deal is country rock records that are dead-serious but know when to let loose a nice, restrained, George Jonesian sense of humor. The man's latest is From the End of Your Leash. ADAM GNADE

BREAKDANCING BATTLE FEATURING ASHES TO ASHES, LIGHTHEADED

(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17

DEAD MOON, FLAPJACKS, MORGAN GRACE

(Sabala's Mt Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) It may sound silly to say, but Dead Moon are like delicious rice.  Uh, however, I've never actually had 'em in my MOUTH to know if they REALLY taste delicious like rice, what I mean is they're like a "STAPLE"... a foundation kinda band in the realm of "garage" rock.  They're a touchstone and a legend... well, almost, as they're a still functioning band.  It's all 'cause Mr. Cole and company have been at work for one LONG assed time, Mr. Cole himself has been "rockin'" for like FORTY years, and (hopefully) like your parents, you can always come back to DM and know what to expect... quality, heavy, hot rock ACTION... and lots of hair! Fucking solid, y'all. MIKE NIPPER

E-40, POTLUCK, BOSKO, MANIAC LOK, COOL NUTZ, E-DAWG, DJ CHILL

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) It's a Jus Family Records showcase with special headlining guest E-40, whose dazzling, guttural emceeing skills flex the kind of artistic sensibility that brings in hardcore fans while purposefully evading the over-glossed world of mainstream success. Bonus: Host DJ Chill oversees a Jus Family talent show from 7:30 to 9:30 pm—your chance to see hot NW rappers before they're even hot yet. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS

QUASI, THE HELIO SEQUENCE, MENOMENA, INVISIBLE

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Get your yearly dose of art-rock in one night with the thrashy/funny duo Quasi, the thrashy/funny duo Helio Sequence, and the thrashy/funny trio Menomena. Am I wrong, or did we write up all these bands a million times about two years ago? JWS

SWORDS, TALKDEMONIC, THE KINGDOM, THE MINDERS, WROOM

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Music, pg 19

THANKSGIVING, WOELV

(Foxes, 435 SE 3rd) Remember that Thanksgiving triple LP I was telling you about a few weeks ago when dude released his other new record? Yeah, well it's time to celebrate yet another Thanksgiving record release party—this time for Adrian Orange's ridiculous/ambitious self-titled triple record, on red, white, and blue vinyl. No, seriously. ZP

ME INFECTO, BLACK ELK

(Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) See Thursday's listing.

SATURDAY 9/10

EARTH, GROWING, JACK ROSE, MARISSA NADLER

(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) See Music, pg 18

HAZEL, POND, CRACKERBASH, SPRINKLER

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17

NICE BOYS, DANKO JONES, THE PUNK GROUP, THE OUT CROWD

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Danko Jones—whether the Toronto power trio or the personification—was meant to sling a guitar. This lion has got too much strut to not prowl hard rock's heartland. Some people only feel comfortable in snug trousers and slashing riffs, and Danko's got the jones for both. This music is young, dumb, and full of come—for the AC/DC and Andrew W.K. fans there. TONY WARE

PREFUSE 73, JEDI MIND TRICKS, THE PEOPLE UNDER THE STAIRS, IQU

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17

TBA FEST STARLIGHT MEET 'N GREET FEATURING MOUNTAINTOPS, ACTAEON AT HOME, SLOW DANCE RECYTTAL, WHITE LIGHT, INVISIBLE, THE COAST STARLIGHT, COME TOGETHER

(The Works, NW 18th & Northup) See Feature, pg 9

STOVOKOR, BLOODHAG, GARGANTULA, I/O

(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Ask any self, respecting nerd and he will tell you that sci-fi and heavy metal are two great tastes that taste good together. Stovokor, the Earth's one and only Klingon metal band, spearheads this awesome theme night of space-age headbanging. Seattle's Bloodhag are an obvious choice for the night, as their shredding odes to fantasy and sci-fi authors can even manage to coerce librarians into beating their fists in the air. Locals I/O and lumbering guitar leviathan, Gargantula, have less of an overt futuristic slant but their star-crushing volume and progressive riffage should have all the resident aliens eating out of their hands. JOSH BLANCHARD

SUNDAY 9/11

LIVING COLOUR, PLAIN JAYNE

(Roseland Grill, 8 NW 6th) For a moment in American pop history, black rock was on the verge of becoming truly big. The period was between 1987 and 1993, and some of the groups that generated this creative surge were veteran punk quartet Bad Brains (the greatest black punk/rock band ever), 24-7 Spyz, Fishbone, and Living Colour, who achieved mainstream success with the single "Cult of Personality." Guitarist Vernon Reid was the brain behind the group, and lead singer Corey Glover was its star. Living Colour released two solid LPs at the end of the '80s and then disappeared for much of the '90s. They made an attempt to reappear two years ago with Collideoscope, but the effort was almost entirely unnoticed. CHARLES MUDEDE

GIGANTOUR FEATURING MEGADETH, ANTHRAX, FEAR FACTORY, AND MORE

(Clark County Amphitheater, Ridgefield, WA) If you haven't seen Metallica: Some Kind of Monster, you should. There's an embarrassingly sad scene where Dave Mustaine (lead singer of Megadeth, former guitar player for Metallica) attends group therapy with the band and cries his eyes out about getting kicked out of Metallica. Of course, it's hard to feel sorry for Mustaine knowing he leads one of the most popular metal bands in history, but when you listen to Megadeth's suck-ass records, well... it gets a little easier. KATIE SHIMER

TBA FEST FEATURING MIRAH WITH SPECTRATONE INTERNATIONAL, LORI GOLDSTON

(The Works, NW 18th & Northup) See Feature, pg 9

MONDAY 9/12

THE AFTERHOURS

(Tiger Bar, 317 NW Broadway) Are Portland ex-pats the Afterhours returning to our city as conquering heroes or simply seeking refuge from the harsh realities of life as an aspiring rock band in L.A.? There's only one way to find out for sure—come see today's best haircuts, who put the "pill" in pilfer, play their wobbly, yet infectious "you care, but I don't care" rock 'n' roll tonight! If they can get through their set without falling over, they may be on their way to greatness. KIP BERMAN

FE-MAIL, WORLD

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Borrowing its membership from the all-lady noise quartet Spunk—members Maja Ratkje and Hild Sofie Tafjord, specifically—Norwegian noise duo Fe-Mail apparently expand upon that band's more caustic elements, creating a sound that Thurston Moore describes as "fresh and clean with a distinct Scandinavian frost." And if Thurston Moore likes it, it must be good, right? ZP

EMIL BEAULIEU

(Reed College Student Union) Do you like to put a thick metal pot over your head and then ask your significant other to hit it with a croquet mallet while other people curse your family tree? Well, you may not, but don't hate on those that do. These are the same sort of masochistic folks that willfully expose themselves to the sonic assault of Emil Beaulieu. Performers like this deliver a speedy dose of epiphany through spastic entertainment and an endless squadron of the coolest homemade synths and oscillators—sometimes complete with robot arms. Simply put, take the harshest of harsh noise you've ever heard, double it, imagine a sweet looking guy in a cardigan making it, and prepare to be saved. JR

TUESDAY 9/13

BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB, MARK GARDENER

(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg 19

THE BRAVERY, MAXIMO PARK

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) The Bravery and the Killers are wasting their valuable 15 minutes in the spotlight feuding over who is more authentically rock. That's like Pamela Anderson and Elvira arguing over whose tits are more real. Mascara will surely smear tonight. JENNIFER MAERZ

TRACY + THE PLASTICS, ?FACT OR FICTION

(The Works, NW 18th & Northup) See Feature, pg 9

WEDNESDAY 9/14

BATTLESHIP, JONNY X & THE GROADIES, AIR FORTRESS, HUSTLER WHITE

(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) While many electronic artists would take offense to having their sound pigeonholed as video-game music, I doubt that the one-man synth wizard, Air Fortress would mind one bit. Air Fortress' youthful moog safaris and obsession with mid-'80s cultural artifacts like "Flight of The Navigator" run a little thin, but it's all good clean fun. Oakland's Battleship are an inoffensive hardcore band that would likely go over well in a sweaty beer soaked basement but don't really leap out in their recordings. Luckily, local scene wranglers Jonny X and Hustler White would be happy to leap at or onto you at any point during the show. JB

MARILLION, JASON HART

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Career British prog rockers Marillion are more noteworthy for the way in which they conduct their business perhaps than for their music. Although they enjoyed sporadic hit songs since their heyday in the '80s, they never really broke out, at least partially because they were bull headedly out of fashion with the music scene around them. They further disgruntled fans when their singer Fish took off to be replaced by "H," effectively splitting their span of work into two eras. However, should you be a fan, they are quite involved in their customer service, throwing annual weekend festivals at which fans can replace members on stage to cop a rock star moment, and giving cash prizes for outstanding remixes of their songs. It's sort of like dating the nerd who'll treat you like queen instead of going for the jerk with the hot rod. MARJORIE SKINNER

NEDELLE, THE RED THREAD, SEXTON BLAKE

(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) As New Orleans continues to sink into shit, and fall prey to car jackers, rapists and drunken opportunists, I wish Nedelle Torrisi would say "Eff it" to her Doug Fir date, pack up her acoustic guitar, and helicopter to the top of the Superdome, where she'd play her gorgeous, bossa nova brushed, nu-Bacharach pop-soul for the masses. They need her more than we do. She could take her helicopter and hover above the Quarter, Frisbeeing copies of her CDs (with Discmans and batteries, please) to the tortured folks below. So, Nedelle, get thee to the Big Easy, and spread thy honeyed glory over the city like a cape of white feathers. AG