biirdie Crystal Ballroom, 6/13

THURSDAY 6/8

CD BABY DOGGIE BENEFIT W/SEAN CROGHAN, THE SORT OFS, ALAN SINGLEY, THE DRAFT, TRE, C-STEPS, DAN MILLS, THE MEZ

(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) Why aren't the Sorts Ofs, like, the hugest, biggest, most famous-est indiepop band in PDX? Have you heard their newer songs? Have you heard the tight, magnificently perfect pop wizardry they wield? Totally. It's some sweet harmony tossing, smartly produced, futuristic (sorta Nintendo-y sometimes), hard smacking power pop. I guess they're getting a heap of college radio play right now. Here's to all that and more, yo. GRANT MORRIS

THE FALL OF TROY, SHOWBREAD, CLASSIC CASE

(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd) The road has been an unreliable mistress for the Fall of Troy, but the trio of young men have pulled themselves together to take yet another jaunt across the country. Singer Thomas Erak was reported to have walked offstage mid-show during a performance in April, causing rumors to fly that the band had broken up. And even more recently, Mr. Erak also had to get four stitches in his face after hitting himself with his own guitar during a show in Florida. Ouch. MEGAN SELING

THE WALKMEN, MAZARIN, SYBRIS

(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) See Music, pg. 26

GLEN PHILLIPS, DAVID MEAD

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) In this singer-eat-songwriter world, David Mead should occupy the best seat in the house. Yet while his work isn't too smart for his own good, it probably does get lost on the industry insiders who might bring him widespread acclaim... or at least a cult following on par with Jill Sobule and David Poe. Regardless, Mead's latest album, Tangerine, ranks as his finest to date, integrating vibrant arrangements littered with ukulele, vibraphone, and glockenspiel, plus the best calliope you're apt to hear this year without riding a carousel. Glen Phillips used to be in Toad the Wet Sprocket, but he is feeling much better now, thank you. KURT B. REIGHLEY

THE LIARS, APES, RABBITS

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) You've got to give it up to the Liars for sticking to their guns. When the big wave of post-punk revivalists hit a few years back, the magnetic urgency of the New York band's 2001 debut They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top clearly placed them at the top of the heap. Not to be pigeonholed, though, Angus Andrew and friends have excited, bewildered, and frustrated critics and fans alike with the conceptual experimentation of their successive releases, They Were Wrong So We Drowned and Drum's Not Dead. Wow, creativity over commerce still exists in this day and age? Who knew! JOSH BLANCHARD

THE STREETS, LADY SOVEREIGN

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) While most grime, eski, and other variations of UK hiphop still sound a bit yuk (does anybody really like Dizzee Rascal, or is he just a welcome alternative to the domestic brands?), I'll take Lady Sovereign over almost any emcee in the game. The cheeky, Munchkin-scale 19-year-old's tracks like "Random," "9 to 5," and "Hoodie" mindmeld international dancefloor beats (think M.I.A.) with mad mic skills (think Eminem via MC Lyte). Bottom line: This shit is dope, could have happened at no other point in history, and will be rocking the fucking house tonight. CHAS BOWIE See also Music, pg. 26.

FRIDAY 6/9

DJ QUIK

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) David "DJ Quik" Blake is one of the very few rappers from the West Coast's early '90s halcyon days to make it to the present day with skills and integrity fully intact. The hair is still permed, the khakis still creased, and the music still Way 2 Fonky, if not better than ever, homie—the musicianship he's brought into his sound since '98's Rhythm-al-ism has given G-Funk a lush new dimension. LARRY MIZELL JR.

KILAUEA, THE MASS, DIESTO, CELLAR DOOR, THE JOKES

(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) San Francisco is a melting pot for great heavy metal music, and the Mass seem to have found a way to pack every variation of that sound into a single band. While their last album had a few too many personalities (think Mr. Bungle covering Slayer with mad saxophone bleats), their new Crucial Blast disc, Perfect Picture of Wisdom and Boldness, sounds more mature and original. Instead of the harried ADD approach, the band seems to have confidently established a sound that is more epic and confident. Imagine Sweep the Leg Johnny's staccato rhythms pulsing alongside a Converge song stuck in second gear. Perhaps the one place these guys could still use some focus is in the vocal department. One second there's a series of deepening monster grunts; The next he's doing his best impression of Maynard from Tool. The sax puts both approaches to shame. NATHAN CARSON

KOOL KEITH, TASH, PIRATE SYGNL

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music pg. 25.

ASKE

(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) This Friday, a grim darkness descends upon the friendly SE neighborhood bar of Acme. Thus transformed, the inaugural ASKE will be upon those intrepid souls who dare to feast their ears on the sounds of blackened Viking metal mp3s therein. The Black Circle of Cascadia (aka the nice dudes from Paint and Copter) will project "live video footage mixin's of Vikings, barbarians, church ruins, dark woods, zombies, and other dark 'n' dangerous stuff." The venue also green-lighted an official "church burning area" so that attendees can set pagan ritualistic fire to tiny paper models of churches. Nothing sets a mood like a little vicarious church burning set to Norwegian grind. Check out Myspace.com/aske666 for more info. This shit is free, grim, and guaranteed to suck out your very soul. (Trust me, you won't be needing it.) NC

SPANKROCK, DEVLIN & DARKO, LOW B, PASE ROCK, DJ NIGHTSCHOOL

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Last weekend I threw a party, and when the festivities hit a lull, I slapped on Spankrock's brilliant YoYoYoYoYo and let the album's 808-by-way-of-Philly grind work its magic. Within minutes, all the ladies in the house were dousing themselves with pitchers of beer, competing for the title of Ms. Wet T-Shirt North Portland. Every fella in the crib had a blunt blazing and moved the furniture out into the yard. By the time "Backyard Betty" had ended, there were people ass-clappin' on top of the fridge, bumpin' and grindin' in the bathroom, and Crip walkin' across the flowerbeds. The whole thing ended with a masked orgy to the tha-thud sonic bass of "Coke & Wet," and by the time the drowsy, chopped-up "Screwsville USA" closed the album out, everybody was napping peacefully on futons and yoga mats. Considering that before we put YoYoYoYoYo on, we had all been playing Boggle, I'd like to give Spankrock my sincerest thanks. CB

SATURDAY 6/10

KARL BLAU, DAY OF LIONS, YOUR HEART BREAKS

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) The Beach Boys may've sung songs about endless summers and eternal Californian innocence, but Karl Blau actually sounds like the beach. His Beneath Waves CD runs from lazy, warm, sun-touched folk to semi-grunge that crashes down like ice-cold breakers against your chest on a day when you figured the water'd be nice and summery by now. But man you were wrong and now you're running up the sand to your warm towel. It's the full shore-side experience: Sometimes you're lying on the sand feeling the sun brown your back; sometimes it's just gulls crying overhead and a good sunset; and sometimes you're stuck in an undertow, heading out towards open ocean and total humiliation when the lifeguard pulls your shivering, near-drowned rat ass in. Big love to K Records for putting this one out. Big love to the Artistery for booking this show. ADAM GNADE

MOUNTAIN GOATS, BARBARA MORGENSTERN

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) In music journalism, one of the biggest pitfalls a writer can run across is the whiplash of having a definitive opinion. With this in mind, I make the following proclamation: John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats has proved himself to be not only one of the best songwriters of our time, but, perhaps, of all time. A bold statement I'm sure, but, by god, an honest one. Few have managed to capture the myriad emotions of day-to-day existence with such precision and utter joy as John Darnielle. The songs of the Mountain Goats chart a territory incredibly familiar and yet utterly unique, wrought with enormous intelligence and keen simplicity. Darnielle's epic and prolific oeuvre paints a stunning portrait—mediocre tragedy; hope found in hopelessness; beauty in detail; ugliness in detail; detail in detail; the texture of life both drab and rapturous. Mark my words—this is a historical presence in music if there ever was one. Amen. GARETT STRICKLAND

HALL & OATES, GEOFF BYRD

(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) See Music, pg. 25.

PEDALPALOOZA KICK OFF DANCE PARTY

(Disjecta, 230 E Burnside) As a kick off to Pedalpalooza fun, Disjecta is throwing a night of dancing, global activism, and boozing (cash bar). BUT here's where the real good times start: At the stroke of 11:59 pm a nude bike ride will be launched upon our town in conjunction with World Naked Bike Ride. According to worldnakedbikeride.com, "On June 10th, 2006, cities across the world will experience the naked joy of the world's largest naked protest against oil dependency and car culture in the history of humanity. It is time to stop indecent exposure to automobile emissions and to celebrate the power and individuality of our bodies! Naked Bicycle People Power!" AG

SUNDAY 6/11

THE BLUE DOT, THE SHAKY HANDS, WAXFIRE

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) There are a lot of really terrible things you can do with your money, but here's something good and decent: Shaky Hands just finished their new full-length but now they're deep in dept. (To the tune of about two grand.) What you can do to help is send them five bucks, which will go towards keeping the band afloat and score you a copy of their great six-song EP. (Go to myspace.com/shakyhands for more info.) Help keep rambunctious, local, well lyric'd folk rock alive! AG

MONDAY 6/12

LORDS, ED GEIN, SUMARA

(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Sumara refer to their music as "sticking your hand in a blender and drinking it." Based around the time tested two guitar/bass/drums/singer model, the Portland band delivers shredding trash that treads the line betwixt metal and punk and does so with meat-grinder brutality, brainy technicality, and a "don't fuck with us" attitude. JASON PEARSON

TUESDAY 6/13

MIKE ANDREWS, BIIRDIE

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) So apparently Kala Savage, one of the three members in the soporific (and frustratingly spelled) band Biirdie, is the sister of the greatest actor of our time—yes, Mr. Fred Savage. Oh! Oh, yes, let us sing his hallowed name from atop roofs and mountains! Sure, there's The Wonder Years, but let us not forget about The Wizard! And—blessed be!—The Princess Bride! And perish the thought of us forgetting about that sitcom, Boy Meets World, which starred that other Savage—not Kala, not Fred, but Ben—and how, on the sixth episode of BMW's seventh season, entitled "Everybody Loves Stuart," Fred Savage played—but of course!—"Stuart." And—as intellectually offensive and viscerally annoying as he might be—let us be jealous of Howie Mandel, who might be Let's Make a Deal-ing it up now, but back in '89, costarred with Fred in Little Monsters! Yea, Fred Savage, thou art awesome. And while it occurs to me that I should probably feel bad about how whenever anyone—including me—talks about Biirdie (which is never), all they really are talking about is how that one girl in it is Fred Savage's sister. But I don't feel bad about that—I'm sure she's used to it, you know? Hey, speaking of The Wonder Years, did you see that issue of Stuff where the chick who played Winnie Cooper posed all sexy-like? That was pretty awesome. ERIK HENRIKSEN

GOLDEN SHOULDERS, ALELA DIANE

(The Funky Church, 2456 SE Tamarack) Alright, yo, it's Six Degrees of Golden Shoulders time! Check it: Matt Wright, who's doin' press for the new Golden Shouldz record, Kin, used to kick it with GS's singer Adam Kline back when they lived in rural-ass NorCal. Alela Diane, who now lives in Portland and is playing this show, was roomies with Kline. Alela and Joanna Newsom are buds and J.New sang backups on the first GS album. Now, I realize that this had nothing to do with the, um, structural confines of the "Six Degrees Of" game, but Joanna Newsom and Six Organs of Admittance are on the same label. And just to confuse things even more, Golden Shoulders sounds like Jack White, were he born of hippie parents, rebelled against their flaky earthiness at age 13, then returned to their folk record collection a couple years later, said "forget this biz" to punk snobbery, and dropped a record that sounds like the Kinks' "Lola" without the novelty steez and plenty of smarty pants brain tissue just bursting out of homeboy's skull. Super great band. GM

WEDNESDAY 6/14

CHRIS CORBEL, PER SE, JIGSAW GENTLEMEN

(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) There are a few things I always do when I have out of town guests. First, we hit up Reading Frenzy and I brag about how much of an asset it is to independent publishing. Then it's off to Nicholas' Restaurant down on Grand, then Tube for boozing, where I end up giving them my unashamed, non-cynical, chock-with-love endorsement of the Jigsaw Gentlemen. I end up saying something lame like "grunge and indierock reborn as one" or "gotta see the drummer go nuts on stage" and "John Henry's lyrics are literary but totally human-sounding." Drunken boostering. Drunken endorsements. Whatever, it's part of the Adam Gnade Portland tour package. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it. AG

MARRIAGE RECORDS SHOWCASE

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Very simple (and great) concept here: Marriage folks get together, jam, form improv one-night-only bands, step in for cameos, all under the hard and fast rule that free is the only way to run. Free music-making. Free at the door. Free. AG

MAN MAN, OLD TIME RELIJUN, CHEVRON

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Man Man is hot-blooded virile merriment at its finest. Gypsy waltzes, tribal freakouts, and call and response chants between Viking ships and baby girl banshee wives on the shore. Drag the shipwrecked Rhodes up the moon-soaked beach, light the bonfire, and crash 'round the flames, screaming to the sky through dust-filled lungs. Joining the festivities are Old Time Relijun, berserker indiepop with treadmill rhythms, buggy guitar, and screech, whine, and shimmy vocals that sound more jungle beast than human-born. Then from outta leftfield we're thrown local boys Chevron, technical anthill jams a little out of place among the night's carnal revelers, but still very much a treat. You're invited. War paint optional. JESSIE DUQUETTE

BLANKET MUSIC, PARKS & RECREATION, FAST COMPUTERS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Made up of locals Chad Crouch, Dave Depper, Mike Johnson, and Greg Lind, Hush Records' Blanket Music has gone from rocking out Latin-tinged (samba, bossa, etc) indiepop to making more clear cut pop with just enough grit to keep it from being called "twee." The bass is thick and throbbing. The guitars are clean and find catchy little angles around the drums. But it's Crouch's literate, descriptive lyrics that give the band its unique flavor. Best advice: Go to hushrecords.com and click on the Blanket Music player right under the main splash page logo. If you have Flash 7 on your computer, you will be taken away to a Kinks-ian wonderland that'll give you a good indication of what this show has to offer. Hint: It has a lot to offer. JP