ARCTIX FEST FEATURING EATS TAPES, LUCKY DRAGONS, FLASPAR, THE PLANTS, FRONT MACHINE, FLAG & WHISTLE, BEHALF, DJ BROKENWINDOW, DJ P. DISCO
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17
(Rose Garden, 1 Center Court) Clay Aiken Fun Fact Number 47: Clay's obsessive female (and, presumably male) fans casually refer to themselves as "Claymates." Zac Pennington Fun Fact Number One: I just threw up in my mouth. ZAC PENNINGTON
THE BAD PLUS, MOCEAN WORKER
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Former drum 'n' bass upstart Mocean Worker—versatile electronica producer Adam Dorn—aims to move folks with his dynamic funk jams that boast plentiful jazz samples (dad is famed Atlantic Records producer Joel). Midwestern jazz mavericks Bad Plus work in a more cerebral sphere while also covering classic-rock staples, alt-rock hits, and Aphex Twin. Bassist Reid Anderson, drummer David King, and pianist Ethan Iverson are supporting their new album, Suspicious Activity?, which sports their usual cache of elliptically tumultuous and serene pieces. DAVE SEGAL
THE MOST SERENE REPUBLIC, WE ARE SCIENTISTS, CLIMBER
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) As you can probably glean from the name, We Are Scientists are geek pop, sort of in the vein of Weezer, but way more danceable and club friendly, showing the influence of Brooklyn neighbors like the Rapture. The music is pretty simple, and employs a current formula for tolerance, if not ultra success, given a little color through the non-theatrical, funny/happy personalities that they let shine through. See them before you have to see them on a poster in your niece's room. MARJORIE SKINNER
JELLO BIAFRA, THE MELVINS, ALTAMONT, THE HUNCHES
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
HIPHOPALOOZA FEATURING LIKWIT JUNKIES, MYKA-NINE, WRITER'S BLOCK, BUS DRIVER, BOOM BAP PROJECT, SIREN'S ECHO, AND MORE
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
LANGUAGE OF HARMONICS FEATURING ROSWELL SISTERS, THAT1GUY, DAHOO CHORUS, THE DAHOOLIGANS, SOLOVOX
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) It's always a challenge trying to decipher, much less explain what to expect from an event in the Enteractive Language Festival. I mean, what the hell is "Enteractive" even supposed to mean? Four years and four convoluted press-release definitions later, I still have no idea, and strongly suspect bullshit, but I do know that each year's events seem to improve upon the previous. This two-night installment features a benefit dinner on Friday, with performances from strange musical guests like the Roswell Sisters and That1Guy. Saturday sees a musical processional featuring Kaosmosis' "Suono Angelica" in which a white-clad crowd will follow a "musical chariot" across the Burnside Bridge from the North Park blocks, and probably get the beejezus rained out of them. Once at the 'Nova, Friday night's performers return with things like an "electric 24-person vocal troupe" covering Zeppelin and ELO. See? It's bewildering. But probably really cool. MS
JACK ENDINO, DIRTY POWER, THE GRANNIES, THE VALLEY
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Permanent Fatal Error, Jack Endino's latest record, is unapologetically grunge. Grunge, like Tad and Mudhoney and Green River and the Melvins and Blood Circus once were. Oh, wait. Didn't the same person—one Jack Endino—produce all of those records? This dude fucking invented grunge, and he continues to personify it. His old band, Skin Yard, were grunge in its purest form. They started in 1985, splitting around the time some asshole Brit journalist came in and ruined everything with his heady words of praise... Yes, they rocked. And Jack is hardly going to start changing now. Whether that's what you want comes down to how hardcore you feel today. EVERETT TRUE
MC CHRIS, SNMNMNM, THE ERGS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) When I'm 38 years old, I might pop on a MC Chris CD and shudder in embarrassment that I ever thought this white boy was fly. His latest CD, Life's a Bitch and I'm Her Pimp, is full of back-popping beats and a lyrical flow that falls somewhere between Eazy-E, Fannypack, and the first Pharcyde CD. So until I officially turn into my dad, you'll find me jamming "Fuckin' Up My Christmas" and "Fett's Vette" with no shame. CHAS BOWIE
RACHEL'S, TRISTEZA, INVERT
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Once More, With Feeling, pg 31.
ATMOSPHERE, P.O.S., BLUEPRINT, DJ RAVE GROOVE
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Music, pg 19.
CERBERUS SHOAL, MICAH BLUE SMALDONE, PLANTS, ROLLERBALL
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Cerberus Shoal can stake legitimate claim—along with the Tower Recordings—to being forerunners to this decade's freak-folk renaissance. The Shoal recorded their latest album, The Land We All Believe In, at Scott Colburn's Bandsaw Studios in Seattle, and he casts the ensemble's music in a natural light that emphasizes their queer-folk (queer as in eccentric) harmonies, bewitching atmospheres, and slanted/enchanted motion. The band's unpredictable stream-of-hyperconsciousness music often assumes a ritualistic air of wonder and menace. Animal Collective, among other weird-bearded flower munchers, owe Cerberus Shoal a serious debt. DAVE SEGAL
EL-FEST FEATURING DAHOO CHORUS, THAT1GUY, THE ROSWELL SISTERS, DJ LORIN, SOLOVOX
(Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) See Friday's listing.
NINA HAGEN, THE PINE BOX BOYS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Born in East Berlin in 1955, Nina Hagen is famous because she is the Nina Hagen. Counterculturists of the '80s found new expression through her new-wave/punk clothes, her electric hair, feral makeup, and bizarre voice. She wrote songs for the female punk band the Slits, had her own band, and possessed a predilection for raising hell wherever she appeared. The fall of the Berlin Wall marked the fall of Hagen, but she still has her admirers. Out of Hagen's many achievements, "African Reggae" stands as one of the most peculiar. Very few Germans can get away with yodeling to the chorus, "I want to go to Africa/I want to go to Africa/I want to go to Africa." CHARLES MUDEDE
MAGIC NUMBERS, DERBY
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg 21.
MY MORNING JACKET, SAUL WILLIAMS
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) See Music, pg 19.
(Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) Andreas Tilliander's genre hopping is as intense as his moniker switching—you may know him as Mokira, Komp, Rechord, Lowfour, among other names, but none as recognizable as the one his Swedish mommy gave him. The accolades he has received from glitch-techno fans are daunting, considering the fact that he hasn't bothered to keep the same name or record label, nor bother with any promotion. He doesn't even offer a proper website, though he's been awarded two Swedish Grammys. He's graced European baby labels like Komplott and respected giants like Mille Plateux, the takers of his latest and best release, World Industries. He's let go of the paltry European techno-dub infusions as well as the beautifully maneuvered hiphop sensibilities, but has proven himself an able techno pop architect. If he sticks to his new stuff, this show will be an opportunity for easy dancing or inert aural bliss. JENNA ROADMAN
CAITLYN CARY & THAD COCKRELL, DAVID DONDERO, ROMAN CANDLE
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) Fiddler Caitlin Cary is impressive as a solo artist, but she's even more impressive as a collaborator, as evidenced by her work with Ryan Adams back in the Whiskeytown days, and also on the recently released Begonias, recorded with the gifted Thad Cockrell. The album is refreshing in it's void of affectation—it's nothing more than sweet, solid, intelligent country music, replete with all the requisite themes of love and the lack thereof. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS
DAMIEN JURADO, DOLOREAN, TENLON'S FORT
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Damien Jurado wrote one of the prettiest songs I've ever heard, "Yuma, AZ," in 1997. Despite my best efforts, I've never found another track of his that matches the beautiful melancholy of that tune. But bless his heart, he keeps trying to match it—even if he doesn't know that's exactly what he's shooting for. So that definitely counts for something. After all, the dude did write "Yuma, AZ." CB
LISA MARIE PRESLEY, JOE FIRSTMAN
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) The thing about being born famous is that you never suffer the fate of being (a) a has-been or (b) a never-was because, when you get down to it, you just always kind of were. Elvis' daughter will probably never be as well known for her musical career (which launched with the surprisingly easy-to-like 2003 single "Lights Out") as she continues to be for that full-tongue death grip sort-of-husband Jacko put her in at the 1993 MTV Video Music Awards. But if you place Lisa Marie's tabloid headline-grabbing trajectory in current perspective, her capacity for controversy now seems rather distant. She hasn't been a bad girl in a long time and her latest single, "Thanx," is kind of a re-write of her first. There's not much left other than the humble mid-career, middle road, smaller rooms, and a now standard cover of Don Henley's "Dirty Laundry." TREVOR KELLEY
THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Considering the amount of shit I got last week for calling Ween a joke band, it's probably going to look pretty bad if I admit to a continued (if waning) affection for They Might be Giants, but whatever—TMBG used to be good. Sure, maybe they haven't mustered anything less than terrible since they started writing sitcom theme songs, but they deserve a sort of lifetime exemption from shit-talk for their first decades' work—if only as a tribute to my adolescent self. And because they aren't a joke band. ZP
(Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) So, maverick experimental-electronic label Leaf finally succumbed: It signed a rock band, its first in 10 years of business. Chicago's volcano! (lowercase and exclamation mark? Bastards!) have the honor of issuing their debut album, Beautiful Seizure, on this esteemed UK imprint. The disc's tumultuous clangor and clatter careen in the same mosh pit as music by the Ex and three-quarters of the Load and 5 Rue Christine rosters. This is rock as ambitious art project—occasionally annoying as hell, sometimes dynamically and texturally inspirational. volcano! sporadically create sparks, but they haven't quite earned that exclamation point—yet. DS
BURY YOUR DEAD, TERROR, SCARS OF TOMORROW, AUGUST BURNS RED
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Just a few minutes into a gig at an Anaheim club, one of Bury Your Dead's guitarists executed a "reverse guitar throw" that inadvertently bludgeoned singer Mat Bruso. Although Bruso was gushing blood from two circular cuts (from the tuning knobs) and an immense gash (from the headstock), his rottweiler vocals never wavered as the band played 10 more high-velocity tracks. The recently released DualDisc Bury Your Dead Alive documents one of the most impressive performances in tough-guy hardcore history, and it also contains the rare essential extra: post-show emergency room footage that pairs Bruso's good-natured narration with gruesome suture scenes. ANDREW MILLER
DETROIT COBRAS, REIGNING SOUND, NICE BOYS
(Sabala's Mt. Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) See CD Review, pg 19.
HEARTLESS BASTARDS, DEADBOY & THE ELEPHANT MEN
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) The name "Heartless Bastards" for this Cincinnati, OH, trio is fairly ironic, since they're quite friendly folk actually. And that's where the irony ends. Led by singer Erika Wennerstrom's bellowing proclamations and reptilian riffage, their 2004 debut, Stairs and Elevators (Fat Possum), tramples out a gruff, mid-city boogie with deep-seated '70s arena melodies. Live, it's sometimes hard to discern the tunes from the trample, but drummer Kevin Vaughn usually slaps things to life. No trendy tresses or flares here, just sturdy rocking, with Wennerstrom's weary soul being the connection to the Fat Possum backwoods bluesmen heritage. ERIC DAVIDSON
ROSE MELBERG, P:ANO
(The Artistery, 4303 SE Division) One of twee pop's reigning queen bees, former Tiger Trap/Softies vocalist Rose Melberg has been largely absent since the release of Portola, her well-received 1998 solo album. Following reports of a new release in store for sometime next year, the velvet-voiced Vancouverite is setting off on a brief Northwestern tour with the brilliant pop tinkerers in P:ano—mercifully dipping their toes just below the Washington border for one show tonight at the Artistery's brand new locale. ZP
MT. EERIE, LITTLE WINGS, GRAVES
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See CD Reviews, pg 23.
HELLO DAMASCUS, PORTLAND INTERNATIONAL
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) According to the Good Book, it was on the road to Damascus that the Apostle Paul was blinded by the light of God and turned his life over to the Lord's work. Methinks that local band Hello Damascus might also benefit from a jarring visit with the Almighty. They offer a pleasant enough blend of sleepy folk rock sifted through a Northwest indie filter, but overall it fails to get my pulse going. Fans of the Silver Jews or Red House Painters might really connect with singer Matt Lounsbury's languid baritone delivery though and tell me to go fuck myself. Have you ever seen a Silver Jews fan tell someone to go fuck themselves? I didn't think so... JOSH BLANCHARD
THE ROOTS, SIREN'S ECHO
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) The Roots' last album, 2004's The Tipping Point, certainly wasn't their most well-received effort to date, and the "buzz" that used to surround their appearances like a swarm of gnats has all but faded to a few winged stragglers. But seriously—they're some of the forefathers of intelligent, underground hiphop and their live shows remain the best in the business. How disappointed could you really be? JWS
WHY?, AQUEDUCT, WE QUIT
(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd) See Music, pg 21.
BRENDAN BENSON, THE SILVERSUN PICKUPS, THE PALE PACIFIC
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Brendan Benson's time in the shadows is slowly making way for his time in the spotlight. While playing opening slots for the White Stripes and watching them cover his poptacular songs was nice exposure and all, it was clear he was headed for bigger and better. That Benson and Jack White would slyly collaborate on a record as the Raconteurs was no one's guess. That album (rumored for a mid-'06 release) is undeniably bombastic and White and Benson pull no punches. The happy domino effect means that more people will now be aware of Benson's impeccable solo work. Beat the rush and catch Benson now. BEN BLACKWELL
SUBTLE, JEL, DJ TANT
(Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 17.