AU REVOIR SIMONE, OH NO! OH MY!, THE MORALS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!
PSYCHIC TV, DAHLIA
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) No matter how hard anyone tries, there will only be one Genesis P-Orridge. The frontman for industrial rock pioneers Throbbing Gristle—and the musical oddities of Psychic TV—is quite possibly the most interesting man in the history of the music industry. Lord, where shall I start? He was banned from England, spent his music royalties feeding the poor in Kathmandu, escaped a house fire during a Love and Rockets recording session (later, an injured P-Orridge sued homeowner Rick Rubin, and won $1.5 million from the bearded one)... and then, of course, there's the whole "pandrogynous" thing. P-Orridge and his wife have undergone a series of cosmetic procedures in order for the two of them to look alike, including breast implants (if you're curious, they're both B-cups) and cheekbone implants. So yeah, there's that. EZRA ACE CARAEFF
THE SHAKY HANDS, PIERCED ARROWS, THE BUILDERS & THE BUTCHERS, RECALLSEVEN
(City Hall, 1221 SW 4th) Musicfest NW and Mayor Sam Adams (oh come on, say it, it sounds good) are behind this afternoon's performance by some of this city's finest local bands—all on democracy's lawn, the steps outside city hall. While most city governments would turn a fire hose on a crowd of indierockers surrounding their front door, ours invites them with open arms, builds a stage, and makes the event free for all. And bands, if you ask nicely, maybe City Auditor Gary Blackmer will teach you a few smoking hot licks on the B.C. Rich "Warbeast" guitar he keeps under his desk, patiently waiting for a golden opportunity such as this. Rock on, Gary! EAC
FLIPPER, THE BULLIES, NO RED FLAGS, THE LEADERS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) When I first saw Flipper I really didn't understand their sound. Not at all, in fact. But during the course of their extended set, the swallowed-a-chunk-of-gristle bass and strangled vocals made me root for the band's delivery from the mess they had made—like you would passively wish for someone to escape from a large predator or a grave illness. The bombast of their Bay Area chaos is more infectious than its markedly raucous exterior. Replacing founding member Bruce Loose could not have been easier than handing his bass to longtime booster Krist Novoselic, who will no doubt add a little strangle and throb of his own. Listen carefully and you will learn to discern between the sound of history, and the sound of a man urinating into a two-liter bottle while driving a tour van across the American plains. LANCE CHESS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Tonight at the Fir, several of Portland's indie all-stars gather in tribute of not just John Lennon the Man, but John Lennon the "Educational Tour Bus." An offshoot of the fairly prestigious John Lennon Songwriting Contest, the sky-blue bus is a traveling recording studio, bringing free hands-on music education programs to high school and college students around the country. It's camping out in the Jupiter Hotel parking lot for five days this week (August 20–24), sponsoring public tours, recording sessions, and a climactic Battle of the Bands and subsequent Battle of the Bands Winner Music Video Shoot. Mr. Lennon would be proud of this community affair, and also of the bands honoring his legend at this show. JUSTIN W. SANDERS
LONELY H, KLEVELAND, WILDBIRDS
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) There are moments on the Lonely H's new album, Hair, when singer Mark Fredson backs off, sings in a more comfortable part of his register, and adds some soulful sentimentality to otherwise telegraphed lyrics ("There's a storm inside my head/pretty soon and I'll be dead," from opener "Just Don't Know"). For the bulk of the record though, it's a battle between the band's fireworks and the wailing, sustain-same-note cries of Fredson. Most of these guys have just graduated high school, and that makes a lot of sense, because it seems these skilled musicians just haven't found themselves yet. JIM WITHINGTON
YOYODYNE, SUPER XX MAN, FRANK
(Lola's Room, 1332 W Burnside) Scott Garred's Super XX Man project has, by now, released a total of 11 albums, ranging from solitary home recordings to full-band work abounding with gentle harmonies and accordion accents. Throw in his work in the '90s with the criminally underappreciated indie outfit Silver Scooter, and you have a back catalog worthy of attention. Super XX Man's latest, Vol. XI: A Better Place, boasts 12 subdued, guitar-led songs musing on fatherhood, religion, and family. TOBIAS CARROLL
MILLIONS OF DEAD COPS (ELECTRIC), INSTANT ASSHOLE, EMBRACE THE KILL
(Outlaws Bar & Grill, 722 E Burnside) Attention hardcore aficionados! Achtung motherfuckers! Here is your chance to see the surviving members of MDC hammer out their unmatched smash-state vitriol using real electric instruments. Loud ones. Let me back up a bit—MDC have been largely playing "unplugged" of late, choosing message over massacre, I suppose. But there is beauty in massacre—especially when the massacre is called "No More Cops," and it's being snarled out through a wall of British Bulldogs. This music says, "Try to pry my Carhartt and black bandana-laden ass away from the barricade—I dare you, pig," and means it. Still true to their politics and vegetarian idealism, MDC have maintained integrity and relevancy in a way that's hard to match among their peers. This is not a reunion show. MDC has always been and always will be that loud voice telling you "Don't drink the Kool-Aid!" LC
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!,
(Oregon State Fair, 2330 17th St. NE, Salem) See My, What a Busy Week!
THE EPOXIES, THE MEDIAM, REPTILIAN CIVILIAN, THE EEGOS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music Feature
JOHN GORKA, ELIZA GILKYSON,CLIFF EBERHARDT
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Rootsy label Red House Records sends a few middle-age singer/songwriters our way, who rose to prominence in the late '80s and early '90s. This era, it may be unnecessary to mention, is not considered the apex of folk's evolution, though you can't blame this talented crew for trying. John Gorka, for instance, is blessed with one of the leanest, strongest baritones in music, though his songs are frequently awash in a new age sheen befitting a Bible camp. Eliza Gilkyson is an important historical figure in that her debut album, 1987's Pilgrims, with its whispery vocals and shimmering layers of synth, is considered one of the precursors to the melodic gloss-pop of Enya... on second thought, maybe you can blame these guys for trying. JWS
POINT JUNCTURE, WA, JOHANNA KUNIN, BEDROOM WALLS
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) The best part of witnessing a show at the intimate Mississippi Studios space is that you feel as if you are sharing the stage with the performers. Every band is your personal mall Santa, taking requests for songs and dolling out Red Ryder BB Guns plus whatever else you want under your tree. It's the perfect space for a band like Point Juncture, WA, whose vivid songwriting and soft vocals often get lost in the bar chatter of bigger rooms. Tonight, the band is all yours, so sit on their laps and tell them your every demand. EAC
(The Modern Age, PSU, 1825 SW Broadway) It's been hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of minutes since electronic svengali Paul Dickow and multi-instrumentalist Michael Hamilton converged under the One Human Minute moniker. The duo creates improvised noise music with gadgets and guitar that manages to be emotive and intelligent. Both are unassuming folks, loaning themselves from other better-known projects such as Dickow's Strategy and Hamilton's long-running Mome Raths troupe. Any time these two smarty-pants elect to revive One Human Minute, it's worth pushing your glasses up your nose, mentally "preparing" behind the dumpster, and sitting cross-legged on the floor, right up front. NATHAN CARSON
STARS OF TRACK & FIELD, TEA FOR JULIE, OHMEGA WATTS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!
BABE FEST: ANON REMORA, THE VONNEGUTS, SCARY BEAR, MASSIVE MEAT SPLIT, ORDER OF THE GASH
(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) See Our Town Could Be Your Life
MICKEY AVALON, DIRT NASTY, ANDRE LEGACY
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Once More with Feeling.
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) Come for the Sesame Street choruses, stay for the art-damaged angular guitar spazzing. Yep, Ferocious Eagle return to Tonic Lounge this weekend with their epileptic shout-alongs in tow. Spicy! Still pulling primarily from last year's oddly mesmerizing The Sea Anemone Inside of Me Is Mighty, the band offers plenty of Albini-approved drumming, brain-bending lyric-speak, and, if you're lucky, a chance to see three sweaty men live. Live, in person. TRISTAN STADDON
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) While R.E.M.'s Monster may be the most prevalent used CD in history, it has nothing on the Gordon Lightfoot catalog. At any record store you can find about 10 copies of all his LPs on sale for a quarter, or less. And yes, this could be seen as a sign that maybe his records aren't all that great, but it's not—Gordon Lightfoot seriously rules. Sure, more people have had hits with his songs than he has, and he's about as un-hip as any Canadian folk-rocker can be, but we're talking about the man who wrote "If You Could Read My Mind" here. Screw yacht rock, it's prime time for a Gordon Lightfoot revival to set sail. ROB SIMONSEN
THE BUILDERS & THE BUTCHERS, NICK JAINA, A WEATHER
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music Feature.
KUFO'S ROCKFEST: INCUBUS, SALIVA, CRACKER, CHEVELLE, BOY EATS DRUM MACHINE, KLEVELAND, AND MORE
(Columbia Meadows, 63701 Columbia River Hwy, St. Helens, OR) I normally wouldn't recommend any event that features the horrific combo of both Incubus (rich man's Hoobastank) and Chevelle (poor man's Deftones), but give KUFO some love for stocking their Rockfest with quality local bands. Lets hope the bouncy digital pop of Boys Eats Drum Machine, or the hard-drinking anthems of My Life in Black and White, can woo a couple fans away from the horrors of the mainstage. EAC
CAROLINE OAKLEY, PETE LEONE
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) Caroline Oakley used to be in the Flat Mountain Girls, a bluegrass gaggle of harmonizin' gals whose moniker always baffled me with its contradictory wordplay (what the hell is a "flat mountain" anyway? The ground?). Also, they have the distinction of being the only band I've ever seen described as "corn-slurping" (by the Willamette Week's Zach Dundas, in 2003—I don't know if that descriptor choice says more about the band or the critic). Oakley's solo efforts strip away the harmonies and the loopy linguistics, showcasing her sizable talents as a frontwoman who has been lighting up Edgefield's "Bluegrass Sunday" with some straight-up West Virginia-style fiddlin'. She's also a renowned square dance caller and might just toss out a few "do-si-dos" and a "swing your partner round and round" or two, if you ask real nice. JWS
THE DREGS, THE BLIMP, THE BLAST MAJESTY, THE TROGLODYTES
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) Over the last few years Eugene has offered us nothing but a slow dribble of bong stuffing, didgeridoo dragging, whitebread jam bands. But for the first time in a while, something truly worthwhile has emerged from the yippie mecca—the Blimp, a brutally awesome, scorchingly loud avant-garage three-piece. With two Marshall stacks, a theremin, and a maniacally fast, eccentric monster on the drums, the guys mash through straightforward, driving tunes and into wild, scaling epics. There's a high-volume Captain Beefheart-type exploration happening here, which is no surprise considering singer and guitarist Luke Gunn studied under the Magic Band's Zoot Horn Rollo. The lessons paid off, as Gunn rips like a caveman on calculus, and the Blimp have become the best band in Eugene. ANDREW R. TONRY
CHARLIE'S CLASS REUNION: ZZ TOP, THE PRETENDERS, STRAY CATS, GIN BLOSSOMS
(Clark County Amphitheater, 17200 NE Delfel, Ridgefield, WA) Ain't a damn thing funny about ZZ Top. The Biggest Little Band from Texas is also, flasks down, the greatest and most enduring American rock 'n' roll trio ever. Through my recent contraction of an alarmingly advanced strain of vinyl meningitis I happened to snag a flawless mint first pressing of ZZ Top's First Album (1971) for an amazing 20 bucks. Billy Gibbons' solid mastery of guitar is so goddamn awesome on this record. The digital transfer of their early stuff jacked the original mixes a bit to sound more '80s, but still retain most of their incredibility. Rhino graciously re-released the mandatory Tres Hombres and Fandango albums in their original mixes last year—besides the early MTV classics, most of their set will likely bite off of these, maybe with a little Tube Steak Boogie action tossed in for the fine ladies. JUSTIN PETERSON
MODEST MOUSE, LOVE AS LAUGHTER
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) This show is sold out. That's crazier than a fish with titties!
BERT JANSCH, MEG BAIRD
(Lola's Room, 1332 W Burnside) See Music Feature.
311, MATISYAHU, DIRTY HEADS
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey) He's Jewish. We get it.
SARA BAREILLES, JON McLAUGHLIN, RAINING JANE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Certainly, Raining Jane will be the only band that ever responds to an email with "We are currently in Mexico for a week-long sitar/tabla retreat," a fact that might be enough information for many folks to decide whether this folkie-plus-unusual-percussion quartet is their thing. Their heavy touring schedule—over 150 shows a year—certainly gives them live chops, and if YouTube paints an accurate picture, they are refreshingly not too cool to show it when they get lost in their own music. Even though I can't shake the feeling that they are more state fair than Liz Phair, when they bust out their four-part female vocal harmonies it could electrify the Fir's small space. JW
(Music Millennium NW, 801 NW 23rd) See My, What a Busy Week!
HALL & OATES
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) I will never be able to get the songs of Hall & Oates out of my head. There's a glitch in my brain that constantly scans what people say for references to the adult-contemporary-pop canon of my childhood, and if a friend says, "I'm tired," it's not unheard of for me to reply, no doubt obnoxiously, "I'm tired of play-ay-ing on the team/Oh, it seems I don't get time out anymore/Ooh-ooh-ooh." If someone says, "Here she comes," I will say, "Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up." There's nothing I can do about it. Hearing the first couple seconds of "One on One"—a note repeated three times, and then repeated three times again, and then a little scale followed by a higher note repeated three times—gives me the same elementary happiness that a toddler experiences by sliding a triangle-shaped block into a triangle-shaped hole. It fits. It's satisfying. Hall & Oates made a bunch of songs that everyone heard a long time ago, and they've kept their career up by touring—by putting their triangle-shaped songs into our triangle-shaped heads. CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE See Also My, What A Busy Week!