MARK OLSON AND GARY LOURIS FROM THE JAYHAWKS
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) All fans of Wilco, Son Volt, Drive-By Truckers, Whiskeytown, or anything else within a solar system of the alt-country movement shalt worshipfully bow down before the Jayhawks and all their subsequent configurations. Before ol' Uncle Tupelo was even a glint in the eye of the public consciousness, the Jayhawks were throwing down albums like Blue Earth and touring the country on the strength of their refreshingly distortion-free ballads and Mark Olson and Gary Louris' gorgeous harmonies. Olson broke away from the band to work with his wife Victoria Williams' Creekdippers, but returned last year for a reunion tour with Louris. It was so successful they're back for another go-around, giving you a second chance to pay tribute to a coupla living legends. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS
JOE SATRIANI, ERIC JOHNSON
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Awww, fuuuuuuh-huck, man! It's the Satch. Oh, shit, dude, did you see that album he put out with the Silver Surfer on the front? It was sweeeet. It was like the Surfer dude was riding the waves of sound, with the waves of sound coming from the Satch's guitar, man, soaring and spinning and exploding in, like, exploding in like light, y'know? Like laser tag, but musical. And we're all—y'know, when you think about it, man, maybe the Silver Surfer really symbolizes the Satch's guitar, which'd make Satch Galactus, man, who's devouring planets of music or whatever 'cause he's so good. God, I love the Satch. I love the Satch so much. I wouldn't like do him or anything, but his music, man, that guitar... it gives me the chills, man, I'd fuck the music if I could, I'd ear-fuck it, which is kind of like what I'm doing when I listen to him now, y'know? It's cool, we can talk about this, right? You won't tell anybody? Oh, man, it's like with me and the Satch, the music makes us one. Hey, pass me that roach clip, yeah? So anyway, I was fiddlin' around on the ol' axe the other day, and I finally figured out that opening riff from that Blind Melon song... the one about the rain? Yeah, y'know the one. It went like... no, that's not it... hold on. It went like... no, on that fret... where's the... ? Uh, it was like "bwee dee bee... bwee dweer dee...." Or somethin'. Shit. Heh, I forgot. Hey, man, did y'know that dude from Blind Melon, like, died? That fuckin' bums me out, man. FILM EDITOR ERIK HENRIKSEN'S COLLEGE ROOMMATE, STONER GUITARIST EXTRAORDINAIRE SETH, AS TOLD TO ADAM GNADE
TRIUMPH OF GNOMES, THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, JOSH HYDEMAN, BLOWUPNIHILIST
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Vancouver's blowupnihilist barfs out deformed, grueling industrial grind that's all pattering blast beats, flutters of insectoid guitar, and bass that sounds like robot crabs clicking across the floor in some great sci-fi nightmare. But it's not all killing and gore splatters; on songs like "Zetetic Astronomy," they drop off into pools of ambient noise—menacing ambience, but a good showcase of their range nonetheless. Go fall in love. AG
THE COOL NUTZ CELEBRATION OF LIFE FEATURING BOSKO, MANIAC LOK, BOOM BAP PROJECT, SIREN'S ECHO, CHEF BOY R BANGERS, PRICY AKA BLEEK, WISE ONE, ARJAY, CHRIS RAY
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) Cool Nutz is pretty much the original Portland gangster. As a local producer and emcee legend that strutted on to the scene in the mid '90s, he helped build Portland hiphop from the ground up. Without Nutz's gangsta-rap lovin' Jus Family record label and his extensive wheedling and needling in the underground scene, you could kiss everything you've come to love about the P-town hiphop world good-bye. Lifesavas? Uh uh. Lightheaded? Oh no, not without Cool Nutz' foundation-building antics. But now, it's his BIRTHDAY! And with a new E-40 sponsored CD on the way, Mr. Nutz is ready to celebrate the momentous occasion by gathering together a small army of his labelmates and friends to celebrate most thugtastically. NOAH SANDERS
TIGERSAW, ROSE MELBERG, CASEY DIENEL, NIRE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg. 19.
STARLIGHT MINTS, DIOS MALOS, THE OCTOPUS PROJECT
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Dios Malos' sophomore release was one of last year's hidden treasures, evoking the Beach Boys' latent gift for casting darker subject matter against a sunlit backdrop of sterling pop harmonics, but with a stoner-jam twist that made it all their own. HANNAH LEVIN See also My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 17
DAN SAVAGE, STORM LARGE AND THE BALLS
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 17.
SHOW ME THE PINK, PUBLIC SPEAKERS, PUPPET SHOW
(Reed College Student Union, 3203 SE Woodstock) Public Speakers, as says local member Matthew Stadler, "is a group of autonomous cells in four cities (Portland, Seattle, Vancouver, BC, and San Francisco), commissioning and presenting original lectures in a hedonistic and contentious atmosphere." Tonight, along with Show Me the Pink's sex/bike jams, Public Speakers will be gettin' all lit-core on our faces. Says Stadler, "We at Public Speakers prefer events that stimulate all the civic organs, so we present our lectures with super-hot humping bands, like Show Me the Pink." Stadler and Jon Raymond will be reading their collaborative 23 Propositions on the West Hills. Henry Miller would be proud. I know I am. AG See also Music, pg. 19.
HC MINDS, NORSKA, FACEPILOT, OTTO
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) The poster for this show is great. It's a stampeding herd of giant bulls indiscriminately crushing the commonfolk beneath their monstrous hooves in a mad attempt to stamp out the human virus on Earth. It's the kind of thing I like to dwell on in those quiet moments just before I drop off to sleep. Headliners HC Minds are the boys from former Sabbath-youth group YOB; they're so hardcore they use an acronym for the word hardcore. Like Christian rockers DC Talk, I think they should be called DC Minds for the epic stoner sludge-tone doom-core they play. Keep an eye on MTV for doom-pop hits like "Land of the Wargoat" and "Stench of the Ravaged." Support acts include local Norwegian insurgents Norska, math-punkers Facepilot, and noise-jam band OTTO. THADDEUS CHRISTIAN
GLASS CANDY, CHROMATICS
(Dunes, 1909 NE MLK) Fuckin' Glass Candy, why are you such a fucking thrill? Why do you drive us all so crazy and make us shit our pants with happiness with every bass note and disco beat? Why do you keep playing tiny, intimate venues like Dunes when you should be all Ziggy Stardust in the arenas and amphitheaters of America? It's because you love us—even if you won't admit it—and you want us to experience real, exciting, human-feeling live shows where the band and audience both feel like they're trapped in R. Kelly's closet and having the time of their/our/your lives. AG
CAVES, OSLO, JONAH
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) As shown on songs like "Disappear," "Curiosity," and "Metaphysical," Portland's Caves make echo-y indierock that has a dark, tense, claustrophobic feel. It's music for driving home from bars, or movie scenes where the characters are breaking up, and one of 'em storms off into the night while the other smokes a cigarette and is all, "Glad that shit's over." You've probably already heard of these dudes but, if not, go to this show on faith alone. You can kick me in the nards if you don't have a good time. GRANT MORRIS
INTERNATIONAL FALLS, WHITE FANG, YUKON
(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Local youngster Eric Wolfgang plays weird, catchy, experimental folk as White Fang. But before the Fang, dude was in a ton of high schooly bands, copy 'n' pasted here from his MySpace page: Skin Tight Pants: "Freshman year of high school. Punk band. I sang." Richard Cool: "Freshman year of high school 'til about five months ago. Solo act/split personality performance art. I was Richard." This Violent Beat: "Sophomore year of high school. Indierock band. I played bass." Tall Firs: "Sophomore year of high school. Happy indie three-piece. I sang and played shoebox and cymbal." Brave, Brave Bears: "Sophomore year of high school and last summer. Indie duo that turned into solo, turned into... White Fang." If you're into Thanksgiving (the band, yo) make sure to check out this killer new talent. GM
CLOUD CULT, APE SHAPE, BRIGHT RED PAPER
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 17.
STOP AND PAUSE
(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) Valentine's presents Stop and Pause, "a collective video action committed to widening the scope of experimental video/film through multiple virtual/non-virtual avenues." Films include: The Saloon by Sarah Halpern (PDX); Cat & Cake by Gideon D. Klindt (PDX); Skull and Blackberries by Eric Ostrowski (Seattle); Natural History by James Walsh (NYC); Paul on My Side by San Diego indiepop singer Matt Curreri; Rob Tyler's (NYC) Color & Modulation; This Is the Bike Ride to Work by Stephanie Gray (NYC); Frozen Sea by David Abel & Karl Lind (PDX); The Road to Nam by Mike Estabrook (NYC); and a music video by Kurt Nishimura (PDX). JASON PEARSON
SONGS OF SMALL CREATURES: MIRAH & SPECTRATONE INTERNATIONAL, THE EVOLUTIONARY JASS BAND, THE TOIDS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Ah, Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn... arguably the most beautiful and accessible voice in independent music. Mirah could sing in an anonymously recorded choir of 200, and her honey-sweet lilt would stand out bright and clear to any listener with the slightest degree of previous exposure thereto. She makes music that anybody can easily fall in love with, her poppy and lovely songs as enchanting as they are well-written. I'm convinced that, one of these days, we'll all wake up and Mirah will be at the top of the charts—and deservingly so. Whether or not such further levels of stardom do, indeed, await in future years, she's already achieved the kind of sweeping, dedicated fan base most indie artists can only dream about. Go and see and hear. Be charmed. GARETT STRICKLAND
BIKE SWAP MEET W/JOHNNY PUNCHCLOCK, SHOW ME THE PINK, THE SPOKES, THE SPROCKETTES
(Free Geek, 1731 SE 10th) See Music, pg. 19
PLANES MISTAKEN FOR STARS, AKIMBO, SCIENCE OF YABRA, SUMARA
(Sabala's, 4811 SE Hawthorne) See Once More with Feeling, pg. 35.
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Vaz sounds like Hella, the ghost of dance punk past, and the Smiths getting in a really nasty, violent car crash. But screwball thing here is, homies are enjoying said car crash. They're diggin' it! They're soooo into it. As the car spins circles on I-84 East, smacking Subaru Outbacks outta the way, those evil Vaz sickos are turning the stereo up, tripping out on the crazy view, and reaching under the car seat for a beer. GM
STINKING LIZAVETA, MACHINE THAT FLASHES, BLACK ELK
(Sabala's, 4811 SE Hawthorne) See My, What a Busy Week, pg. 17.
NÜX, NEW DARK AGE, DJ NATE C
(Tube, 13 NW 3rd) Nüx is Matt McDowell from Dark Yoga making big, growling swells of drone noise, prog-rock workouts, and psyche jams that sound filthy and sticky and loose. Which is to say, great music, amazing music. New Dark Age is a special, one-off collaboration between Mercury freelancer Nathan Carson, photographer Yoni Kifle, and Brux Blackheart. Expect the doom, the drone, and the ambient synth dreams. Don't miss this show if you like things like—I dunno—fun, good music, happiness... AG
PUNGENT STENCH, BLESSING THE HOGS, IMPALED, AMONG THE DECAYED
(Rock n Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) The Geto Boys rapped vividly about mistreating money-hungry women, but only Pungent Stench had the misogynistic ingenuity to fill a gutted gold digger with coins, thus creating "My Horny Little Piggy Bank." Hailing from Vienna, Austria, Pungent Stench spin mainstream music's most taboo material into something unfathomably repugnant. Their cannibalistic, necrophiliac protagonists have engaged in every imaginable appalling act during the trio's 18-year career. By contrast, the group's musical approach is relatively subtle, with dense sludgy grooves slowing their metallic attack like tar on the gears of a death machine. ANDREW MILLER
JAI-ALAI SAVANT, RAHIM
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Chicago's Jai-Alai Savant is Ralph Darden (guitar, vocals), Jeremy Gewertz (drums), Nash Snyder (bass), and Major Taylor (beats, backing vocals, dubs, treatments) playing experimental dub that's more Clash than Slits. They've also had sit-in players like Ikey Owens, Cedric Bixler, Omar Rodriguez-Lopez from the Mars Volta, Ted Leo, and Fred Erkstien from June of 44. Which makes them something of a hipster wet dream. Still, at its core, this is reggae, one of music's most polarizing genres. You're either at this show with bells (and a buzz) on, or reading this and going "Reggae, fuck that hippie shit." JP
BOBBY BARE JR., BOBBY BARE SR., TOM HEINL
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) So I wanted to start this 'un off saying something like "It's a family affaaair" but that song always makes me think of incest and I don't want to imply Bobby Bare Jr. and his dad are, like, humping each other in the tour van. Rather, they represent old country and new... uh... country gone indierock with some folk indulgence, maybe some soul-tinged vocals, and a little punk rock shaking things up and keep the unholy stew honest. Two Bares on one stage! New school meets old school! Not having incestuous sex with each other! This lineup rules! USA! USA! USA! GM
MARRIAGE RECORDS SHOWCASE
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Marriage's showcase nights at the Towne Lounge are always kinda mysterious and free for all and no rules, so I got in contact with some Marriage people and asked them to help preview the thing. Says Davis Hooker from Watery Graves of Portland and Thanksgiving, "there will be no blowing of the PA." Scott from ...Worms says "not a drum circle." And, finally, Adam Forkner (World, White Rainbow) had the following to say: "Marriage Records folks free for all smoosh of all vibes together at once totally free improvised exploration of sound and song and words and beats and chords: no plan no rules music party with people banging on things, making up songs on the spot, singing together, doing nothing, being confused, moments of elation, Andrew Kaffer, A John Henry Memorial, Watery Graves of Portland, Mise en Abyme, White Rainbow, World, Dark Yoga, ...Worms, Rob Walmart, other stuff, stuff, pizza, jams, surprises, frustrations, drunkenness, a drumset, a keyboard, an accordion, some bells, some guitars, some mics, some drum machines and little crummy amps and the piano, turntable, effects pedals, bass guitar, Rhodes piano, free-singing, embarrassed significant others, frustrated bar staff, and, perhaps most importantly, time limit." AG
EXODUS, FULL BLOWN CHAOS, THE CLASSIC STRUGGLE, STONECREEP, ALMOST IS NOTHING
(Rock n Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) Twenty-six years. That's how long Exodus has been poisoning the sonic landscape. Yet children still weep when the gentle melodies of "Bonded by Blood" filter through my neighborhood. Dogs and cats go ballistic. Hippies convulse. Exodus is every bit as obnoxious today as they were under Reagan. Some bands are great not by virtue of musicianship, lyrical creativity, or sexual appeal. Like Iggy Pop and James Brown before them, Exodus are worshipped by their own twisted cult of beings that idolize things weird and unnatural. Of course, the beast has mutated, altered most notably by the early departure of Kirk Hammet and devastating loss of Bay Area Thrash legend Paul Baloff. But Gary Holt, father of the band's trademark sound, has been staying the course since he joined in '81. Let's see any of you sissy make-up boys match that kind of endurance. TC