ISIS, THESE ARMS ARE SNAKES, ZOMBI
(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd) If you haven't been out to the coast in a while to gaze on the heaving hypnotic wash of the Pacific, seeing Isis is probably the next best thing. It's like falling asleep in the surf zone, alternating warm and cool textures engulfing the senses, and every once in a while feeling a startling rush when water gets up the nose. Some folks say it's still metal, but, you know, so is pencil lead. Seattle's These Arms Are Snakes put out uneasy, fevered jams; rock on the verge of mental collapse. Their sinewy, asymmetric rhythms compete like two pythons over a single lamb. If you've ever watched the drama and emotion of dopesick fourth graders beating the piss out of each other with steel pipes, you'll understand the TAAS vibe. As for openers Zombi, oh boy, grab your woman, the Lamborghini, and that saltshaker of cocaína. Buy their album to play at all of your drug deals. Miami Vice was never this good! THADDEUS CHRISTIAN
JUANITA FAMILY, RUNAWAY TRUCK TRAMPS, FEED AND SEED
(Alberta Street Pub, 1036 NE Alberta) More heart-rending and emotionally ouchy than All in the Family, sexier than the Manson Family (which, bro, is tough), funnier than the Family Guy (not really), Portlandville's Juanita Fam is lovable, twangy, upbeat country moosic. And no alt-country brokeassmountain trash; this is tight, authentico, fabuloso, 2 legit 2 quit country that kicks it with all the old Nashville, Bakersfield (R.I.P. Buck Owens!), and outlaw country greats. GRANT MORRIS
TOOTH AND NAIL PRESENTS: EMERY, ANBERLIN, FAR-LESS, THE CLASSIC CRIME, JONEZETTA
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Emo, as a genre, is about feelings that are SO. DEEPLY. FELT. Christian emo (e.g., Anberlin and Emery) is EVEN MORE. DEEPLY. FELT. It's not just about how the singer is depressed because of girls, or parents, or Death Cab selling out; when an emo band signs to Tooth and Nail Records, being melodically angst ridden becomes a divine imperative. And Christian teenagers—I know this all too well—will treat every lyric, even the ones about girls and politics, as gospel. Frankly, compared to the praise/worship music that those kids are supposed to listen to, this stuff is angry and relevant. Me? I'd go to the show just so Tooth and Nail has the money to keep putting out Starflyer 59 records. This deeply meaningful Christian tour is brought to you by the Toyota Scion. (Really.) JOEL HARTSE
DRATS!!!, HEROES AND VILLAINS, JUNIOR PRIVATE DETECTIVE
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) If you're so burned out on the standard indierock shows clogging the stages of Portland every night that dragging your carcass out to a club seems like an insurmountable task, this show might just get you off the couch. Headliners Drats!!! play standard "quirky pop," They Might Be Giants-influenced fare, but they also do things like put on rock operas based on Matt Dillon films. Heroes and Villains party like it's 1929 with their self-described "gypsy jazz," while Junior Private Detective try to break the mold by blending prog and pop. Expand your horizons and support some bands that are daring to be different. COURTNEY HARDING
THE CLOUD ROOM, BLITZEN TRAPPER, ANTLERAND, CAVES
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 13.
SILVER SUNSHINE, THE UPSIDEDOWN, WINTER FLOWERS, 2% MAJESTY
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) See Music, pg. 17.
WE ARE SCIENTISTS, THE GRATES, FOREIGN BORN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) My awkward analogy to We Are Scientists is this: Remember that one girlfriend you had? She wasn't ugly, per se, nor was she beautiful—she was, you know, perfectly nice to look at, and cute and all, but nothing spectacular? But—and here's the reason you dated her—every once in a while, out of nowhere, she would throw you a glance—over her shoulder, across a room, next to you in line at the bar—and she would look flat-out, jaw-dropping amazing, her eyes dusky and warm, her lips curled up into a half-smile, her hair tucked behind her ear and curling against her neck. And it was at this point, unexpected and disconcerting but very welcome—that all sorts of hormonal and emotional shit would just break the fuck loose. Yeah. Remember her? Okay, so We Are Scientists are getting a lot of talk lately, sized up alongside hype-driven bands like Arctic Monkeys, and one would think that they're the belle of the ball, the gorgeous girl who catches everybody off-guard all the time, but they're not—they're that other chick I was just talking about, perfectly cute and fine most of the time. But on a couple of tracks on their album With Love and Squalor, their usual, standard repertoire—which is basically generic post-Weezer geek rock—gives way to vicious, clever, sharp, athletic riffs that flat-out rock, and encourage head nodding and foot tapping and—upon first listen—maybe even a shameless grin. And then, moments later, they go back to being generic post-Weezer geek rockers, their hard, precise drums and prickly, flowing guitar lines blurring back into normalcy. But man, those few minutes. ERIK HENRIKSEN
WE ARE SCIENTISTS
(Music Millennium, 801 NW 23rd) See above.
BURIED BLOOD, FLYING FORTRESS, KILAUEA, ROANOKE
(Sabala's, 4811 SE Hawthorne) One of two great underground metal shows in town tonight, this one is for the crowd that prefers a tall can in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Cruise up SE Hawthorne to Sabala's early and catch Roanoke's dreadlocked doom dirge. This local trio turns up, tunes down, and plays sludge songs that reach 30 minutes in length. Kilauea is another trio, but their doom is more of the classic rock variety—nouveau Pentagram fans take note! They get bonus points for having a woman on the bass who knows exactly what she's doing. Flying Fortress shred soundly until their gurgling vocals hit, sounding inadvertently comedic. Buried Blood also feature ladies in their lineup (X-tine on vocals, Becca on bass). I'm so happy to see so many DIY extreme metal acts with non-decorative female members. Buried Blood are one of the best bands in town and sound genuinely scary. Thank Satan we have them. NATHAN CARSON
THE DIRTBOMBS, BLACK LIPS, THE LAMPS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music, pg. 17.
JONNY X AND THE GROADIES, DOOMSDAY 1999, BLACK ELK, SUMARA, SIBERIA
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) One of two great underground metal shows in town tonight, this one is for the kids who aren't old enough to drink legally, or can't borrow a car to get to a real house show. Of course, one of the fantastic things about Food Hole (aside from their new floor, walls, and stage) is the symbiotic presence of Tube next door. So leave your flask at home and slurp down drinks between sets. Then rush back to catch the grind of blast-masters Siberia, and the new perennial heroes of the Portland rock/metal crossover scene Black Elk. Jonny X will provide the fireworks, but the real treat at this show will be Seattle's Doomsday 1999. Lauded as one of the greatest political hardcore groups to ever start a metal band, they play absurdist grinding noise that would make Total Shutdown proud, against dark riffs that Akimbo were scared to use. NC
2% MAJESTY, ALEC K. REDFEARN, GHOST TO FALCO
(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) See It's Who You Know, pg. 23.
(Reed College Student Union, 3203 SE Woodstock) I usually look for silver linings in venues, but Reed's Student Union is pretty fuckin' awful. The big, awkwardly spacious room; the drunk kids waiting around for the show to end and the dance party to start; the drooling, Coors-fucked frat hecklers in the balcony; the place is a shithole. Which makes me all the more stoked the PDX Noisefest is landing there this Friday. Nothing fills a giant, badly acoustic'd hall up or kills off haters and lurkers like righteous, brain-liquefying noise. Tonight, noise owns the student union, and any bad eggs or toxic vibes that try to ruin shit will be stomped by the big proverbial biker's boot. Welcome your new pledges: Pop Culture Rape Victim, blowupnihilist, Other People's Children, Power Circus, Scard, Okha vs. Potter's Field, Pulse Emitter, Disjunct, Syphilis Sauna, the Sunken, Cryptic Weevil, and Barracks of Afghanistan. ADAM GNADE
FEIST, STEPHEN FRETWELL
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See Prizefight, pg. 53.
ROCK N ROLL CAMP FOR GIRLS BENEFIT
(Mississippi Pizza, 3552 N Mississippi) Lemme tell y'all how much I like (and believe in) what the Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Little Gals is doing: I want to have some shorties myself just so they can go and get all schooled in the ways of rock. Jack Black isn't funny. School of Rock, my azz. Portland's got this stuff in motion, brah. Mississippi Pizza (yum!) is throwing a fatty benefit with Pocket Parade, Sick Sick Sister, and Defect Defect helping our li'l sisters and daughters out. Give them your cash. GM
TASTE OF CHAOS TOUR
(Oregon State Fairgrounds, 2330 17th NE, Salem) See My, What a Busy Week! pg. 13.
TALKDEMONIC, WET CONFETTI, HORSEFEATHERS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music, pg. 15.
(Reed College Student Union, 2303 SE Woodstock) It's another night of PDX Noisefest noisefuckery with Damion Romero, Glen Moore, Tralphaz, T/R, IDX1274, Nkondi, Sleeping w/the Earth, Inri, Withdrawal Method, View, Warning Broken Machine, and Sensual Muscles. Academia will be shaking in the nice, new boots its mom 'n' pop bought. AG
THE BILLY NAYER SHOW, PROFESSOR GALL, JOHN VECCHIARELLI
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) See Music, pg. 15.
EDITH FROST, THE ZINCS
(White Eagle, 836 N Russell) Years ago, listening to Edith Frost's acclaimed late-'90s effort Telescopic, I had a hunch I was supposed to like it more than I did. I could tell the songs were beautifully written, but Frost filtered most of them through layers of mysterious psychedelic space fuzz, which rendered her lovely, warm voice cold and mechanical. Her latest album, It's a Game—the first in four years—cuts out the futuristic bells and whistles, emphasizing Frost's ample skill with melody and song craft. Her stories of doomed relationships and unrequited love aren't groundbreaking, but they're sweeter, smarter, and better than most sad singer/songwriter fare—and now, you'll actually be able to make them out. JUSTIN W. SANDERS
THE STROKES, EAGLES OF DEATH METAL
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) When two-thirds of a good band's albums are redundant it can go both ways. If they take the time to develop their style before releasing it to the world, you can't fault them for staying the course. Y'gotta go with what works. But if you like your artists to evolve into something greater than their first effort then disappointment sets in. The latter's where I'm at with the Strokes. Nearly all of Is This It? is as great as anything that came out at the turn of the century. Rock songs don't get much better than "Someday," "Last Nite," and "Hard to Explain." As long as they play at least half of that album at this show, it's worth it. If they don't, then you'll get the new, rehashed versions, which are still pretty good. Take it or leave it. BART SCHANEMAN
DIRTY PROJECTORS, JAMES SUMNER, NAT BALDWIN, DARK YOGA
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) So, check it, I toootally made the bonehead mistake of listening to the new Dirty Projectors EP, New Attitude (Marriage Records), after smoking a gangload of medicinal-grade weed and the shit WWE-smackdowned me and cooked my little brain like a delicious ham and cheese omelet. The seven tracks made no sense; I had no reference points for what I was hearing. I knew there were guitars but since when did guitars sound like they were playing notes on a steel bass drum instead of steel strings and frets? Were those really Hare Krishna chants, or was I that blunted? Was their drummer dropping beats backward while the band played lead and rhythm lines with screwdrivers on a basement's water piping? Like, WTF, yo! Looney Tunes thing is, I listened to it the next day and it sounded exactly the same. Dirty Projectors, you're my new best buddy. Let's kick it again sometime. Your crunktastical music. My confused but loving ears. Bong not required. GM
DEAR WHOEVER, TEN FALLS FORTH, DREAMS OF REALITY, HOLIDAY UNHEARD OF
(Rock N Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) I'm usually all, "If ya can't say something nice, shuddup" regarding local bands, but Dear Whoever is straight up difficult to find good things about. Sooo... local boyz in the (very white) hood Dear Whoever are getting gianormous for playing hackneyed screamo that sounds like everything else in Warped Tour, USA. Armor for Sleep, Underoath, and Hawthorne Heights are all referenced here—one screamy guy, one whiny boy band buster, heavy drums, heavy guitars—but when the things you're referencing all graduated the same time as you, you gotta wonder. Dear Whoever has as much depth as a beer bottle cap. A flattened one. Stomped by a really fat guy. GM
CARBILLICON, WELSH RABBIT, THREAD
(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) Tonight's the tour kickoff for Welsh Rabbit's mini springtime West Coast run. They have a new record coming out (tentatively titled Don Quixote) and you can score a copy at their show or off myspace.com/welshrabbit So, basically, the record isn't done yet, the title's not confirmed, but the band is still down to slide you a copy. That's so anti-music business, it makes me ecstatic. Wanna get ecstatic? Go to this show, watch some friendly, experimental powerpop and say, "suck it" to the music business. Try it: "SUCK IT." AG
TAKING BACK SUNDAY, EMANUEL, FACING NEW YORK
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Emo. AG
ONE MAN BAND FEST
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) In hiphop cultcha, one-man bands work real well. Homeboy on stage with a mic and bumpin' backing tracks? Totally accepted. Totally crowd-pleasing. In rock, it's more about freak show-ery and multitasking as performance art. So, in rock-land, while that kinda stuff might not be totally accepted (or all that hip or good), it is hella crowd-pleasing, and makes for a good night of spectator sports. With Voodoo Organist, Esmerelda Strange, 1manbanjo, Pat MacDonald, Frankfurter & The Hot Dogs, M-BOMB, Phillip Roebuck, and Elvis & Frank. GM
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) All right, yo. So I've tried my best to write about Gaycation, but I've yet to capture its essence. I knew when [Adam] Gnade forwarded me this press release, I had to just, like, copy 'n' paste it and let it stand on its own awesomely written legs. "Homocene"?! Genius. Total genius. "Well gaycation seems to be getting better and better. Spring has finally sprung, so what better way to celebrate than to come on down to homocene & live up that olivia or gay cruise fantasy. When you get crunked at Gaycation, you'll be surrounded by so many hot homos that it will only take 3 shots of tequila until you know that, yes, you truly are the flyest bitch in the club" [sic]. GM
BARK, HIDE, AND HORN, JUNE MADRONA, SON, AUBREY DEBAUCHERY
(Mississippi Pizza, 3552 N Mississippi) I have been promising myself to write a big feature on Portland's Bark, Hide, and Horn for months now, and it'll happen, the time just needs to be right. So, there's my promise to you, too. Soon. Big feature on Bark, Hide, and Horn and their experimental electro Americana. You'll fall in love with them, and with their music, and with the idea that Portland has these tiny little gem bands waiting to take on the scene, and the world. But until then, check 'em out tonight with June Madrona, Son, and Aubrey Debauchery at Mississippi Pizza. AG