AMERICAN ANALOG SET, VERVEIN, SUPER XX MAN
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) Compositionally speaking, there's little extraordinary about the American Analog Set, but that hardly means they're not worth a listen. With rich guitars, fuzzy organs, and spry high-pitched backbeats, it's easy to confuse AAS with any number of other laid-back, lo-fi indierockers, but their difference lays somewhere in the half-whispered lyrics from guitarist/vocalist Andrew Kenny; the words are negligible, but Kenny's emotional cadence isn't. Kenny's voice strings the otherwise ordinary elements of the band together, making them into something that, with a weird synthesis of both melancholy and contentment, is an emotional state more than great music. Uh... so it's pretty good mood music, I guess is what I'm getting at. ERIK HENRIKSEN
RICK BAIN, ROCKNROLL SOLDIERS, THE VACATION, LOVELY
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Named after a Radio Birdman song, Eugene's RockNRoll Soldiers have come a long way from that stinkin' hemp-filled sinkhole they call home. Now signed to Atlantic Records, the band is all high kicks and High Life, recalling the pomp and party stance of such greats as the almighty Riverboat Gamblers. Like the Makers on a great day or the Gamblers on a winning streak, these Soldiers fight the good fight for choruses you can chant down the halls and a pace that leaves sweat stains no spot cleaner can remove. JENNIFER MAERZ
TODD BARRY, LOVE AS LAUGHTER, SAM CHAMPION
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Once More With Feeling, pg 35.
JIMMY BUFFETT & THE CORAL REEFER BAND
(Rose Garden, 1 Center Court) For a period of maybe four years, from the end of high school through the first year or two of college, I was a huge, unapologetic Jimmy Buffett fan. I listened to all of his albums, from A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean to Beach House on the Moon; I had not one but two Buffett T-shirts; I had a faux traffic sign that said "PARROTHEAD CROSSING." I could not get enough. Nowadays, my Buffett fanaticism has thankfully eased, and I've realized that the guy's a one-trick pony who's gotten way worse the older/more commercial he's gotten, and that his fan base of middle-aged men is really depressing, and that he has no right whatsoever to be charging $36-126 a ticket, and that pretty much everything he's done since 1983's One Particular Harbor has sucked, and that his only truly great albums are Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes and Havaña Daydreamin'. Tangentially, those are still two of my favorite albums, a fact for which I will still not apologize. EH
ALICE COOPER, WEDNESDAY 13
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
HARVEY DANGER, STARS OF TRACK AND FIELD, CAVES
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Popular conception—at least among the relatively few people (hand raised) who actually bothered to pay attention—maintains that Harvey Danger's King James Version, the commercially dismal follow-up to their one-hit wonder debut, was actually a lost gem of sorts. While its late-'90s radio-rock sheen might have a difficult time picking up a lot of new converts in hindsight, it's still pretty difficult to deny the lyrical prowess of vocalist (and former Mercury contributor) Sean Nelson—whose dart-sharpened vitriol courses throughout the album. After a several year hiatus, the band recently reunited to craft Little by Little—a Newman/Nilsson-obsessed collection the band released both commercially and for free as a high-quality download through their own Phonographic Records. It's a notable shift away from the spite-soaked King James, but for those open enough to give Nada Surf another chance at sub-major celebrity, it's definitely worth a listen. I mean, it's free for godssake—what else are you doing with your life? ZAC PENNINGTON
I AM THE ARM, SIBERIA, NATION OF TWO
(Fez, 316 SW 11th) Here's a rare opportunity to catch Siberia's icy blasts of emotive metalcore in a club environment, instead of their perennial house party hunting grounds. The power duo recently re-added a bass player, but the focal point remains the excessive technical drum abuse from one of the best skinsmen around. I Am the Arm are a local name that people should get to know—their fusion of jazz and punk recalls Nomeansno, The Minutemen, Black Flag, and a lot of time spent listening to Blue Note records while smoking the marijuana. Seattle's guitar/drums duo Nation of Two tout themselves as the world's first all-transgender band. With Nina Simone as their patron saint (they cover "Be My Husband"), and with favorable comparisons to Sonic Youth, Yoko Ono, and Huggy Bear they should provide a pleasant quirk to an impressive bill. NATHAN CARSON
DEERHOOF, NICE NICE, PROBLEM
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
CRYPTIC ONE, HANGAR 18
(Tiger Bar, 317 NW Broadway) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
LEGACY OF BRUTALITY, THE WHITE PANTHER PARTY, SIGN OF THE CRAB, THE ALIEN BOYS, FUN TIME
(Liberty Hall, 311 N Ivy) Because Halloween is perhaps the only season in which it's not totally embarrassing to be in a cover band, the folks behind some of Portland's most dependable have thrown together an all-star dress-up show spanning several decades of punk. Johnny X and the Groadies become the Alien Boys to cover the Wipers, Dark Skies kick out the MC5 jams as the White Panther Party, and Dead Eye get all leather pants and peanut butter as Fun Time. Toss in Legacy of Brutality and Sign of the Crab (the Misfits and the Gits, respectively), and you've got... well, you've got a lot of cover bands. ZP
DIERKS BENTLY, CROSS CANADIAN RAGWEED
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Country music is the red states' most popular export after crude oil, but Nashville-by-way-of-Phoenix crooner Dierks Bentley represents the uniting power of weed on his "High Times and Hangovers" tour—big ups to that border-crossing rambler Willie Nelson—and despite the wild times, he ultimately opts for the banality of love and marriage over the draw of the drink, as on the sweet "Domesticity." Wearing neither alt-country's monocle nor pop-country's codpiece, Dierks crosses the boundaries of those weirdly polar country camps—bounds only the greats (Hank, Willie, Gretchen Wilson) can usually traverse. Perhaps he meant love hangover: He's also a country heartthrob who looks increasingly like a cross between Blue Lagoon-era Christopher Atkins and Portland Mercury-era Phil Busse. Says my mom, a red stater por vida: "He's really good. He's really popular. And he's cute." The number-one question on his website's FAQ is, "Boxers or briefs?," if that tells you anything. JULIANNE SHEPHERD
BOLLYWOOD HORROR III FEATURING DJ ANJALI, THE INCREDIBLE KID
(Fez, 316 SW 11th) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 12.
THE BRIEFS, THE CLOROX GIRLS, ABSOLUTE RULERS
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) One of the things I appreciate about the Briefs is their apparent total lack of pretense in regard to what they do. And what they do is pretty uninventive but completely inspired new wavey melodic punk. The singer even slightly affects a British accent! They remind me strongly of the late, great Exploding Hearts, although they're less glue sniffer with his heart on his sleeve and more Ritalin snorter jumping on the couch. Seeing them with the Clorox Girls won't make for much of a jarring transition between sets. They're a bit rougher and rawer, but still on the melodic tip. MARJORIE SKINNER
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg 21.
DEAD MOON, THE DIVINING RODS, THE NIGHTMARES
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) In the ritual local tradition of Halloween time, Dead Moon reappear like clockwork to do their their rock 'n' roll stuff. Aged and persevering, they've been going at it for years without mainstream popularity (they're "big in Europe"), but the kids in town still love them. They're practically a McMenamins. MS
QUIVAH, NEWSPEAK, DJ PAPERCUTS
(Imbibe, 2229 SE Hawthorne) Live hiphop shows can frequently leave a lot to be desired—not the least of which is good sound and impressive musicality. But not so with Portland's own seven-piece Quivah, who boasts a full band in addition to a DJ and two MCs. Classically trained musicians lay down jazzy beats while the tag-teaming MCs let flow with mad silly rhymes, culminating in fresh party music that rocks the live show. CHAS BOWIE
SUICIDE GIRLS BURLESQUE, TSU SHI MA MI RE, SOPHE LUX
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) I bet you're saying to yourself "I pity the band that has to open before an onslaught of prancing T&A." Well, you can stop your boo-hooing right now, as rumor has it that the opening band on the first SG Burlesque Tour take in a comfortable percentage of the door. When the SG Burlesque concept proved umpteen times more popular and lucrative than anticipated, they struck impetuous gold. This cutsie and energetic happy growl rock Japanese trio, Tsu Shi Ma Mi Re, has had virtually zip exposure in the US and is now promoting their debut full-length, Pregnant Fantasy, with full force. It's a likeable and schizophrenic amalgam of rockabilly and femme-pop-noise-punk. Their head bobbing and perpetual smiles must be genuine, playing to close to sold-out crowds of horny boys and goth chicks. BENNA LOADMAN
SUNN 0))), BORIS, THRONES, TOWERS
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Music, pg 21.
THE CLOROX GIRLS, ARMITAGE SHANKS
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) You know, the best snotty UK-style punk always comes out of the UK, doesn't it? You can force all the sneering accents you like, but garagey street punk sounds extra brash coming outta blokes like Armitage Shanks, a group that's known to be "in cahoots with the Billy Childish." Their song "Drowning, Not Waving," is wittily bittersweet, as the singer tells his lady, "I'm drownin' but you think I'm waving" to simple four-chord pop. JM
GHOST MOTOR, SLEEPING NATIONS, PUFF PUFF GIVE
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) As their name not so subtlety implies, Puff Puff Give is the quintessential stoner band, charming in their free-spirited jams and occasionally half-baked musical left turns. Those present at Puff Puff's last performance found a new backup band pumping out rigid acid-karaoke figures, while frontman Manny Reyes processed his normally impassioned falsetto into digitized Pac Attack rhythms. Reyes is also the curator of this year's Arctix Fest (beginning this Wednesday at Holocene), an event where you might be blessed with music even stranger than this. Maybe. JB
THE MISS U'S, CRAZY TRAIN
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
RADOLESCENTS, TOTALLY GREEN DAY
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
BOB LOG III, THE SPITS, THE MINDS, HILLSTOMP
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) I recently heard someone say that the white man has no place playing the blues, as it's his job to be heaping the blues onto others. Truer words have never been spoken. Fortunately, Bob Log III's one-man junkshop delta-punk show is so mutated from the original source that you'd be hard pressed to accuse him of cultural appropriation. On second thought, I guess assuming that the man is a cracker makes and ass out of U and me—as the enigmatic Log is never seen without his ginormous trademark motorcycle helmet. Confusing things further still, I noticed a number of online allegations that one of Bob's usually gloved hands is actually a monkey paw—which officially beats out the Led Zeppelin shark-fucking story as the best rock and roll rumor ever. JOSH BLANCHARD
SILENTIST, RABBITS, SNAKES
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
EXODUS, 3 INCHES OF BLOOD, CRISIS, WATCH THEM DIE
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) NYC hardcore/metal experimentalists Crisis began with the theory that a female-fronted extreme metal band would get people's attention. Now that Arch Enemy is on MTV, their prophecy has come to pass, but since 1993 Crisis has slaved away in the underground, released a string of critically acclaimed records, and toured with none other than Voivod. Karyn Crisis is the focal point at about five-foot-one, with swirling blonde dreadlocks and the voice of several demons. Her caterwaul is unmistakable and the fusion of dark-metal elements that guitarist Afzaal layers beneath is equally compelling. Really, metal is such a bleached genre, it's refreshing to see a band made up of guys from Pakistan, Taiwan, and Puerto Rico who are helping a very small woman make a great deal of noise. NC
THE ROLLING STONES, MÖTLEY CRÜE
(Rose Garden, 1 Center Court) As I have been assured that no one who reads this paper is even in the nose-bleed tax bracket for this show ($65.00-350 a ticket, no shit)—I'd like to use this space instead to explore a question that's been puzzling me lately: What could possibly motivate the Rolling Stones to continue touring? I know what you're going to say—I mean, it seems like the millions of dollars would be hard for anyone to resist, but let's face it, there's no way on earth that even Keith Richards' illegitimate great-grandchildren could conceivably spend all of the money he's got in his bank account. So what is it? Habit? Boredom? It certainly can't be creative drive. Is it just that after 40 years of touring, they just don't know what else to do with themselves? God, that's depressing. ZP
THE VERY HUSH HUSH
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Occupying a fuzzy electro-rock space somewhere between My Bloody Valentine and M83, the Very Hush Hush create perfect music for gazing at your tattered Converse. Their debut CD, Mourir C'est Facile hums with lush, melancholy guitars, blurry lyrics, and dramatic drum swells that the band (comprised of two classical pianists) honed in Boulder, Colorado. This is very competent, head-bobbing, rainy day music. CB
ARCTIX FEST DAY ONE FEATURING CAPTAIN AHAB, TELVISIO, COPY, THE SNUGGLE UPS, APE SHAPE, CELESTEVILLE, RED BIRD, DJ BUS STATION JOHN, DJ EKUL B
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! pg XX.
THE DEADLY SNAKES
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) See CD Reviews, pg XX.
THE FORECAST, LORENE DRIVE, MY EPIPHANY
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) What separates the Forecast from every other indie band that plays lame, cliched rock 'n' roll, but tries to disguise it as authentic Midwestern classic rock devotionals? Could it be the moderately Superchunk-y/screamy vocals? The female bass player? The press photos of the band standing in a wintery, Peoria, Illinois field? That's not enough for you? Sorry folks, nothing else distinguishes the Forecast from every other indistinguishable, hook-less, too-sincere, Morning Jacket-wannabe bands making the rounds these days. CB
METRIC, DEATH OF A PARTY, THE LOVELY FEATHERS
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See CD Reviews, pg XX.
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music, pg 17.