CAPTURED! BY ROBOTS, STOVOKOR,
PAUL GREEN'S SCHOOL OF ROCK BAND
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) See My, What a Busy Week!
SHOUT OUT LOUDS, JOHNOSSI, NICO VEGA
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week!
FILM SCHOOL, THE HUGS, EULOGIES
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See Music Feature.
PATRICK WOLF, BISHI
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) See Music Feature.
JUSTICE, LINGER & QUIET, DJ COPY
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music Feature.
THE EVERYBODYFIELDS, THE STARLINGS
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See Once More with Feeling.
FUJIYA & MIYAGI, PROJECT JENNY,
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Leading up to the first Fujiya & Miyagi performance in Portland, I was amped. The date was circled by a big red Sharpied heart on the calendar, and I even went so far as to ignore proper concert etiquette as I blared their playful Transparent Things album from my car stereo on the way to the show, a move not as bad as wearing a band's shirt at their concert, but shameful nonetheless. A few drinks later I was front and center, the anticipation was building, the band took the stage and then... yawn. That's it? Three dudes just sort of standing there? Maybe it's because Transparent Things raised the bar to heights their live show could never attain, or maybe the gents were having an off night, but it was a colossal letdown. So, Fujiya & Miyagi, we're going to try this again. I'll lower my expectations if you promise not to put me to sleep. Deal? EZRA ACE CARAEFF
MAGIK MARKERS, LITTLE CLAW, GROUPER, DJ 666, DJ SOIREE
(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) Magik Markers, the bicoastal project of singer/guitarist Elisa Ambrogio and drummer Pete Nolan, recently released the Lee Ranaldo-produced Boss on Thurston Moore's Ecstatic Peace label. It veers from beautiful and droning to fierce, sprawling, and almost abstract. Live, these extremes are even more apparent, as Ambrogio summons up waves of feedback, taking to the mic to deliver sporadic lyrics while Nolan keeps the pace, or as they deliver perfectly concise noise-rock. What makes this worthwhile, and what makes them one of the most compelling live bands I've seen in the last year, is that even their seemingly improvised pieces never lack momentum. They're the kind of band that inspires confidence that whatever the destination, the route there will never be less than fascinating. TOBIAS CARROLL
PETRACOVITCH, GINGERBREAD PATRIOTS, NATE ASHLEY
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) As much as the music of Petracovich—the solo project of soft-voiced songstress Jessica Peters—can be described as beautiful, even haunting, the level of excitement her live show will produce is questionable at best. The California native's second album, We Are Wyoming, is an airy concoction of soft, pretty music that at its most exciting could still be described as "quiet." Yes, on occasion Peters' voice breaks free from her compositions like a veritable sonic bolt of light, but most often it blends into the near-classical piano backdrop. The end result is a wash of noise more suitable for background music at a trendy art opening than the excited atmosphere of a tightly packed club show. NOAH SANDERS
BRYAN FREE, DREW GROW,
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) During the month of October, eclectic Portland songwriters Drew Grow and Bryan Free host a weekly music night every Thursday at The Know. Tonight they are joined by musician Matt Hopper, who has played with the likes of the Cold War Kids. Next week Drew and Bryan will be playing their own tunes alongside a string section, and on the 18th they'll be performing songs from their youth. On the 25th the boys will take the stage with members of Crosstide and the Beauty for an evening of collaborations. Check out this awesome display of local talent taking place right in your neighborhood (or your boyfriend's or coworker's or whatever). KATIE SHIMER
TURBONEGRO, NICK OLIVERI & THE MONDO GENERATOR, YEAR LONG DISASTER
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week!
BORIS, DAMON & NAOMI, KURIHARA, JACKIE-O MOTHERFUCKER
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Named for a classic Melvins song, Boris are at the very forefront of Japan's heavy psychedelic movement. They are in fact world-class leaders of guitar-based rock in general. These working artists release albums at an alarming rate, and still make time for constant tours and side projects. Thanks in great part to the Southern Lord record label, and a recent split release with Sunn O))), Boris even have a properly reverent audience waiting for them on these shores. Musically their altered egos burst with classic dirty rock on their hands, and sublimely heavy trip-outs spilling from a trio of third eyes. Diminutive guitarist Wata is a master of tone—her arpeggios are immaculate and her riffs can be devastating. Galaxy 500 vets Damon & Naomi harmonize and croon beforehand, coating the stage with cotton candy clouds of subdued pop tunes, the memory of which will be obliterated when Boris brings down the doom hammer. NATHAN CARSON
TSOL, MERCY KILLERS, 800 OCTANE, PLAN R
(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) About five years ago I somehow managed to find myself at a TSOL show (don't ask). The crowd was incredibly young and unresponsive, only showing signs of being alive by cheering when someone would yell out the semi-hit "Code Blue" as a request. After this happened about five times, lead singer Jack Grisham's head just sort of dropped as he said, totally defeated, "Don't worry, we'll play that at the end." When they did finally play the song, everyone lost their collective shit and went nuts. It was all very sad, because 25 years in, and they're still touring as that one band who has that song about necrophilia. Whether they deserve more recognition or not, it has got to be tough, knowing kids are only there to, you know, watch the monkey dance. ROB SIMONSEN
(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) Nice Nice could very easily be described as "Kraut Rock" (a good thing, considering that tonight is an evening of music dedicated to all things that rock and are Kraut). The moody bass, the tendency toward dancey rhythms, a subtle hint of Germany lurking about the edges—it's all there. Scratch away the paper-thin Kraut surface and a band difficult to describe slowly begins to emerge. Tracks like "I'm a Human Person" personify the previous given label, while the disparate guitars and shimmering cymbals of "Dawn of Dusk Pt. 1" eschew any ties to the electronic genre. NS
MATT POND PA, JESCA HOOP
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Matt Pond's nice-enough songs reveal themselves only after close reading, ambushing initial expectations with lyrics like "I see breath and sighs and changing minds/I told myself not to remind me of the things I could've been" (from 2005's Several Hours Later). His just-released album Last Light fills its poems with references to sun and light, darkness and nighttime, pausing to consider intimate human interaction with an awkward, outsider's detachment. The tongue-twisting refrain of "Honestly" stands out, as it muses "Honestly, honesty means everything/I believe someday I hope I will believe." Later on the album, with "Sunlight," Pond recognizes his choice to leave "before it gets that bad," singing, "I wish you would say/When I fuck up that it's okay," familiar territory to anyone who has ever seen their life as someone else's story, instead of their own. JIM WITHINGTON
UNEARTH, DARKEST HOUR, AUGUST BURNS RED, SUICIDE SILENCE
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) If it's too loud, you're too old. Or too clean. Just kidding! This actually promises to be one of the best metal tours to barnstorm town this year. Say what you will about Massachusetts metalcore vets Unearth, but they show fine taste in opening talent here, pinning the kings of politically-savvy DC metal (Darkest Hour) with fast-rising Pennsylvania quintet August Burns Red. Darkest Hour promises cuts from their recent Deliver Us, while August Burns Red (the hot band with the hotter, and way more emo name) just released a searing sophomore smash called Messengers. Suicide Silence, meanwhile, takes the prize for most ridiculous name on the bill—a feat, considering the competition. TRISTAN STADDON
BLACK LIPS, THE SPITS,
THE STRANGE EFFECTS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Just a few short months ago, I praised the Black Lips in these very pages. Since then, my feelings have shifted. Now don't get me wrong, you could do a lot worse than the poppy garage group from Atlanta, Georgia. They're fun dudes with a cool sound, tremendous work ethic, and a killer single in "Katrina." Plus, the group has mostly dropped the onstage antics (like pissing in each other's mouths) that put them on the map in the first place, letting their songs finally take center stage. But the last two times I saw the Black Lips I left a bit bored, and not just because I was hoping to see a few peeing dicks. The band piled on pop song after pop song, and after a while, they all started to sound the same. Now that the wild kids have grown up a little, maybe it's time their music does, too. At least a bit. ANDREW R. TONRY
FIGURINES, THE BUILDERS & THE BUTCHERS, DAPPLED CITIES
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Since the last time Denmark's Figurines visited America, their bassist left the band to pursue higher education and, uh, become a volleyball player. Right. That happens here all the time. Fortunately, the effects aren't particularly tangible on Figurines' latest, When the Deer Wore Blue. A dazzling mix of layered alt-indie that builds on the virtues of 2005's quietly successful Skeleton, the disc sounds more like the product of the Pacific NW than Scandinavia. Grandaddy-lovin' Aussie indie troupe Dappled Cities will be opening. TS
GIANT PANDA GUERILLA DUB SQUAD, UPRITE DUB ORCHESTRA
(Goodfoot, 2845 SE Stark) It's no surprise that one of Giant Panda's best songs is simply titled "90s." The trio seem as though they stepped straight out of the early part of that decade, offering a simple boom-bap sound that recalls the height of the golden era of hiphop. And yes, hiphop has evolved since then, but Giant Panda soak in their Native Tongues influences, creating intelligently simple couplets and matching them with straight ahead beats. Typically this formula manages to come across as simply nostalgic, not really making a mark on the genre as a whole, but Giant Panda somehow sound incredibly refreshing, proving to be as vital to a new generation of fans as all their early influences clearly were to them. RS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!
HA HA TONKA
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Named after a state park in the Ozarks, Ha Ha Tonka are rolling about America in support of their Bloodshot Records debut, Buckle in the Bible Belt. While they lay their weary heads in Missouri, the band's influence is in the very heart of Southern rock, as they represent a new generation of bands who look not to Skynyrd for their take on stars 'n' bars rock, but instead to the Drive-By Truckers. Sharing a soft spot for delicate harmonies amid rowdy saloon rock tunes, they also show off some impressive lyrical smarts and the same whiskey-and-Marlboros-for-breakfast vocal rasp as DBT's Patterson Hood. As far as influences go, you can't get any better than that. EAC Also playing at Music Millennium (Eastside) at 4 pm.
FAMILY FORCE 5, JONEZETTA,
THE SECRET HANDSHAKE
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Dallas born and dance-rock bred, the Secret Handshake's Luis Dubuc likely knew how it felt to be a fish out of water before touring with Boys Like Girls. That's crazy. But legend has it that Dubuc spent his formative years handling kit duties in a metal band while demo-ing his so-called emo-tronic laptop anthems from his bedroom. Laugh at the formula if you will, but we're guessing Dubuc's the only fella around who has since been remixed by Spank Rock and Dillinger Escape Plan. Not to mention that Trail of Dead bassist Neil Busch supplies the deep end for several of the 'Shake's quakes. All very impressive and credible by any standard—now if only the dude would stop wearing those stupid BAPE hats. TS
BAT FOR LASHES, CHRIS CHAVEZ
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music Feature.
TRE HARDSON, FAT LIP, SLEEP, OMNI,
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) What the fuck happened to Fatlip? On the Pharcyde's first two albums he was unquestionably the lyrical heavyweight of the group. His lines from those seminal releases have been quoted and sampled on a million cuts in the years since their release, proving his lasting vitality and relevance in the pantheon of hiphop poets. Since the salad days of the mid-'90s, though, Fatlip's career has been a definite rollercoaster. In 2000 he had a hit single with "What's up Fatlip?" then wasn't heard from again until 2005, when his debut solo effort The Loneliest Punk was released to a chorus of yawns. Rumors have been circulating for years alleging that he's been on the pipe and was kicked out of the Pharcyde for actions just short of soliciting gay sex in an airport bathroom. Then this year he makes a collaboration with the Chemical Brothers, "The Salmon Dance," which has an interesting video, yet doesn't touch his work from 15 years ago. Shit, at least he got a check. All said, I'm happy to hear anything about the Lip that isn't alleged tales of him sniffing glue behind 7/11. GRAHAM BAREY
GREAT LAKE SWIMMERS, ARTHUR & YU, THAO NGUYEN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) As the first act signed to the new Sub Pop imprint Hardly Art, Arthur & Yu have established the label as a force to be reckoned with. Similarly following recent boy-girl duos Beach House and Lightning Dust, they manage a sound that is part Comes a Time-era Neil Young, part sun-drenched Beach Boys goodness, and part Laurel Canyon folk. But while their contemporaries rely on sparse arrangements, Arthur & Yu set themselves apart by offering a fuller, richer, and more textured sound, chock full of reverb and bordering on twee harmonies. Sure, they may not be groundbreaking, but damn if they aren't great at what they do. RS
THE FIERY FURNACES, PIT ER PAT
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) See My, What a Busy Week!
THE GO! TEAM, BODIES OF WATER
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!
SAY ANYTHING, HELLOGOODBYE,
YOUNG LOVE, POLYSICS
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) I was one of the few people over the age of 22 who liked Say Anything's debut release, ...Is a Real Boy. I liked its brutally honest lyrics, I liked the fearless attempt to do something a little different (it's a vaudevillian rock opera disguised as a fourth [fifth?] wave emo record), I'm a fan of crazy people, and singer Max Bemis is actually crazy. It shows in his lyrics. In "Wow, I Can Get Sexual, Too," he unapologetically sings about using phone sex with (I assume) a groupie to satisfy himself. In "Admit It!" he, well, admits, "I worry about how this album will sell because I believe it will determine the amount of sex I will have in the future/I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to help treat my extreme social-anxiety problem." He picks fights, he calls bullshit, he talks shit about himself—it felt like he was mocking the very genre and lifestyle he was a part of, and I thought that was fucked up, but pretty great. Sadly, their new record, In Defense of the Genre, is a lot less confrontational and therefore boring to me. That's the thing about the crazies... they're totally unreliable. MEGAN SELING