Children of Bodom
Roseland, 9/22

THURSDAY 9/18

LIVING LEGENDS, SANDPEOPLE

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Tonight the hiphop buddy system is in full-effect when the aptly named Cali superstars Living Legends share a bill with local hiphop champs Sandpeople. When you add up the total emcee headcount, there will be nearly 20 members total. Here's hoping they wear "HELLO my name is" nametags so we can all keep track. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

STARFUCKER, SOUTHERN BELLE, GUIDANCE COUNSELOR (5 PM); STARFUCKER, DYKERITZ, DJ BEYONDA (9 PM)

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See The New What's Next and Our Town Could Be Your Life.

MISS KITTIN & THE HACKER, NATHAN DETROIT

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See The Whole Kitten Caboodle.

FRIDAY 9/19

OKKERVIL RIVER, SEA WOLF, ZYKOS

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) I've seen Okkervil River too many times to count, but what I remember most about the Will Sheff and company is that one night—September 8, 2007, if you're scoring at home—when the band laid waste to my tender little soul inside the sweltering walks of an oversold Berbati's Pan. Their encore performance of teenage murder ballad "Westfall" was the sort of moment that defines a band for eternity and makes lifetime supporters out of gaping front row fans like myself. All those years of rah-rah fandom and glowing press I've hurled toward the Austin-based band were justified in a few short minutes of pure perfection. When the song disintegrated into the a cappella refrain of "Evil don't look like anything," and the crowd's hoarse vocals sang along at a deafening volume, it was a moment worth chills. Soaked in sweat and head spinning, I don't remember how I got home that night, but I do remember every single moment of that song and how downright life-changing it was to me, and probably everyone else in that room. EAC

CSS, TILLY & THE WALL, SSION

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) From samba to Tropicália and beyond, Brazil's deep and varied history of music contains riches that are dizzingly exotic to American ears. That's why it's such a disappointment that the country's current biggest musical export, São Paolo's CSS (short for Cansei de Ser Sexy), is almost completely neutered of any traditional Brazilian elements. Straightforward electro beats mesh with robotic guitars and chunky synths; lead singer Lovefoxxx namedrops pop culture references like Paris Hilton and Death from Above. The band's latest record, Donkey, sounds like it might as well have been recorded by a bunch of Brooklyn hipsters—or even Swedes, for crying out loud. That said, Donkey contains at least two excellent, if conventional, pop gems—"Rat Is Dead (Rage)" and "Left Behind"—and a truly great, weird album cover. NED LANNAMANN

THE SLANTS, THE WANTEDS, DISGUSTITRON, JONAH

(Mt. Tabor Legacy, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Tommy Harrington first absolves, then annihilates, the contemporary rock and roll mold on the Wanted's latest album, Failure Looks So Good—which is to say, the sassy edge he employs serves less to catapult the Wanteds' sound into retro-rock rehash, and more into a sonically superior modern rock epic. In the same way Retisonic or Abandon Pools cut the cord of cookie-cutter composing, the Wanteds' easy-bake foundation can sometimes be a bit dough-y ("Heart-Shaped"), but with the driving atmospheric buzz of "Ladysmith," or the jangly rock nugget "Too Soon for Always," the Portland band's overall resonance commands your patronage for this week's album release. RYAN J. PRADO

JOAN AS POLICE WOMAN, GREG LASWELL

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) After her boyfriend Jeff Buckley went swimming in the Mississippi River and never came back, Joan Wasser managed to collaborate with perhaps the only two singers whose swooping, swooning voices surpass Buckley's in terms of sheer melodrama: She joined Antony and the Johnsons, playing viola on the celebrated I Am a Bird Now album, and she toured with Rufus Wainwright, who also appears on To Survive, Wasser's latest album as Joan as Police Woman. Wasser's own music is pretty and light, but not especially frothy—there's a ponderous seriousness to even her gentlest songs that flash frantic warnings: Caution! Serious artist at work! Such gravitas might differentiate Joan as Police Woman from other mellow troubadours like Norah Jones and Feist, but you'll probably find her music goes down just as appropriately with a Starbucks latte and crispy biscotti. NL

SATURDAY 9/20

FIR FEST: LOCH LOMOND, BARK HIDE & HORN, Y LA BAMBA

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) You love the Doug Fir, and it loves you right back, all the way down to its glowing logs. That's why there's Fir Fest, a semi-annual snuggle of free music (Loch Lomond, Bark Hide & Horn, and Y La Bamba), art, fashion, and craft. Smooches. MARJORIE SKINNER

JOSH MARTINEZ, BRAILLE, SAPIENT

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Spit It Then Quit It.

TALKDEMONIC, DOUBLEDUTCH, WORLD'S GREATEST GHOSTS

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See Art is Hard.

FINAL WARNING, WARCRY, AUTISTIC YOUTH, GUIDED CRADLE, STREET PLANT

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) See Once More With Feeling.

SUFFOCATION, 1349, ABORTED

(Rock n Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) Tonight's extreme-metal showcase is technically an off-night for openers of the Portland-skipping Carcass reunion tour. True Norwegian black metallers 1349—named after the year the Black Plague swept through their native land—fit decadently with the gore-tech ferocity of New York's Suffocation. Top-shelf 1349 blastbeater Frost is sitting out this tour due to prior engagements with Satyricon, his primary band, so instead we get Nachtmystium studio drummer Tony Laureano, the Florida-based monster who fills in for Hellhammer whenever Dimmu Borgir spellbind North America. Belgium's shapeshifting Aborted are the night's weakest extremists. Their "Pestiferous Subterfuge" panders to deathcore dance floors, throwing barbell-curl breakdowns over traditional electric squeal. Without electric squeal, dudes, it just doesn't kill. MIKE MEYER

TOADIES, THE BLAKES, LIONS

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Band reunions appear to be par for the course in recent years. And even if some reconnections seem mostly contrived, you can't help but marvel that a band like Toadies, whose angular pop-punk rock has influenced so many unwitting '90s throwback collectives, can return and actually set their own bar a bit higher. The band rose to prominence during the mid-'90s alt-rock explosion on the heels of the wildly successful Rubberneck, then struck a sour chord with Interscope for their second album Feeler (which was never released), and only released one other studio album, 2001's Hell Below/Stars Above, before bassist Lisa Umbarger left the group. The band's new album, No Deliverance, however, resiliently squeals like a wrench thrown through a printing press. It's like they never left, and that's a good thing. RJP

LOVE MENU, SHOESHINE BLUE, AUDIE DARLING

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) The first thing that stands out about Love Menu are the worn, weathered, beaten vocals of singer Emily Katz that hearken back to—and pull from—folk heroines like Vashti Bunyan, Karen Dalton, and Judee Sill. And when Katz plays solo (as on "The Right Way"), her folk revivalism is spot on; however, when a full band backs her, well, that's when things start to get really great. Her voice takes a backseat and gets washed behind the drums and gently plucking banjo, and the result is a gentle mixture of folk, indie rock, and rain-soaked Portland afternoon. ROB SIMONSEN

TINY VIPERS, AH HOLLY FAM'LY

(Exit Only, 1121 N Loring) Another of Sub Pop's recent adoptions is Tiny Vipers (Jesy Fortino), whose debut album, Hands Across the Void, made a bit of an indie splash last year. Her music comes under the category of "acoustic/gothic," a sonic description that brings to mind dark castles and drippy candles. But while Fortino's music might fit that scene, it would also work just as nicely as background music for reminiscing about swing sets and sandboxes. While the imagery she evokes may be up to the individual, the beauty of Fortino's retro-sounding vocals and the gentle clicks and clacks of her instrumentation are easily accessible—not to mention alluring. KAITLIN JOHNSON

SUNDAY 9/21

JOURNEY, HEART, CHEAP TRICK

(Clark County Amphitheater, 17200 NE Delfel) It's like a beautiful dream from Dazed and Confused! Journey, Heart, and Cheap Trick?! All on one stage? The only way this could be any more awesome is if they set up their gear side by side and took turns blasting their greatest hits—in turn blasting my freaking mind! WILLIAM STEVEN HUMPHREY

IRETSU, HOTELS, BROTHERS YOUNG

(Rontoms, 600 E Burnside) Listening to Iretsu initially seems like a pleasant exercise, like jogging around a particularly scenic pond. You'll get your heart rate up and burn off some calories; you might even be able to clear your mind and approach a Zen-like state of clarity. But the twinkling, percussive sound of Iretsu has more going on beneath the surface. Soon your sneakers will begin running of their own accord and trails of your sweat will leave psychedelic swirls across your skin. The band's recent Name Our Numbers, Numbers EP, out on Australia's Hidden Shoals label, is a trilogy of multipart songs driven by electric piano. While it's heady with experiments and shifting moods, it covers a broad array of varied terrain while maintaining a clean, almost clinical sound. Like an I.M. Pei structure, Iretsu is functional, progressive, and exhilarating to inhabit. NL

THE SABBATH: TWEAK BIRD, HOT VICTORY, PARTY KILLER, DJ NATE C

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) A pounding love-letter to all things percussive, Hot Victory don't merely dabble in the ways of the drum as much as they thump a vein, shoot up, then gloriously nod off while dreaming of the violent snap of stick hitting snare. Featuring Caitlin Love (who you might remember from the haunting theatrics of Desert City Soundtrack, and her brief run as one of many hundreds of thousands of drummers previously in the Thermals), Hot Victory have a fresh slab of self-titled 7-inch ready to share with you—a three song recording that packs the wax grooves with enough drummer-on-drummer action to make you swear all other instruments are little more than useless clutter. If it ain't drums, it ain't shit. EAC

WHITE HINTERLAND, OHIOAN & NATIVE KIN, DAVIS HOOKER

(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) Led by Casey Dienel's resonant voice and restrained piano playing, White Hinterland aren't the easiest group to categorize. Dienel's intonation and the group's debt to jazz and wide-armed musical scope suggest a kinship with Jolie Holland and others who traverse genres without a second thought. Still, the transitions between and within the songs on the group's Phylactery Factory can be (intentionally) jarring, as can the journeys these songs make from their studio versions to the live setting. Dienel is a verbose and complex lyricist, and the songs as a whole match those words—kinetic enough to support their flow and complex in a way that compliments their themes. TOBIAS CARROLL

MONDAY 9/22

NICK CAVE & THE BAD SEEDS, GHOSTWRITER

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) What would you do to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds? Would you promise to never listen to Murder Ballads again? Would you vow to skip the upcoming film The Road, for which Cave wrote the music? Would you give away your adorable, fuzzy kitten? (Hint: give the li'l kitty to Nick; he seems to love 'em.) Well, that's a start, 'cause tickets to this can't-miss show are mighty hard to come by—it's about time to be making some Cave-based sacrifices to the box office gods. COURTNEY FURGESON

NEIL DIAMOND

(Rose Garden, 1 Center Ct) SHOW CANCELED! See The Appeal of Neil.

CHILDREN OF BODOM, BLACK DAHLIA MURDER, BETWEEN THE BURIED & ME

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Children of Bodom is the third Finnish metal band to play Portland this month, but more than the invasion's other fresh offerings, COB demands fists in the air. Nightwish had those Cupid choirs, and Finntroll had the keyboardist of Moonsorrow—who incited anomalous, pre-Inquisition jigs in the pit—but COB has the oddly comforting distinction of blending classic heavy metal (in the vein of Iron Maiden) with contemporary black anguish (in the open vein of Cradle of Filth). Further distancing itself from pick-your-metal trappings is the band's sugary side of synthy delight, to which they defaults while bridging genres. In a time when modern metallers are still outgrowing their breakdowns—tonight's solid openers are no exception—COB is on the bleeding edge of a mainstream. MM

TUESDAY 9/23

DR. DOG, DELTA SPIRIT, HACIENDA

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Dr. Dog's uncanny similarities to the Beatles have been well documented, and quite frankly, the criticisms are almost all accurate. The sweet-and-sour dual vocal attack, glazed by a wiry '60s pop sheen and dished-on plates of swirly psychedelia, is certainly indicative of the tried-and-true hit machine forged by John and Paul. But Dr. Dog's sinful edge on 2005's Easy Beat and the blissful tangents purveyed on 2008's Fate relegate the crew to a niche within a niche. There's a reason for their soaring popularity: If it weren't for their unabashed adoration of such musical giants, the wherewithal to actively progress the art of their muse may have been squandered, and quite frankly, our ears would've been worse off. RJP

LAIBACH, OWEN

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Laibach have made a career out of blurring the line. They appeared randomly, entering this country via underground music, exposing vulnerabilities, playing tunes they didn't entirely write. Recently, they sang us our own national anthem. (It never sounded so cold.) Laibach come at us from the hard right while fighting for the hard left, and their music—exaggerations on the ingrained—are either inverted sympathies for evil or mockeries of humanistic good. There is no middle ground for this Slovenian industrial act, and the jackboots they adorn underscore their point: "Pop music is for sheep and we are shepherds dressed as wolves," they tell us in the documentary film Divided States of America, a painfully neutral compilation of fan interviews and live footage from their post-election 2004 tour. Tonight, expect a browbeating. MM

WEDNESDAY 9/24

LIAM FINN, THE VEILS, THE DIMES

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Chances are if you've heard of the Veils, you're already a rabid fan. But if you haven't heard the New Zealand-by-way-of-London quartet, know this: The Veils' powerfully addictive songs travel from the cigarette smoke noir of Nick Cave to the art-rock howl of the Drones, visiting the blues extrapolations of Jack White and the sulking pop of the Smiths along the way. After one listen, you'll be a diehard. NL

LIBRETTO, ILLMACULATE, ILLAJ & MIKEY VEGAZ

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) I first heard Libretto rap the same place a lot of people outside of PDX did—on the Lifesavas' "It's Over," off their debut album Spirit in Stone. But the moment where 'Bretto's gritty Portland soul really hooked me was on his seamless, one-track 34:25 mixtape (released right before Ill-Oet: The Last Element, his must-cop LP on Dim Mak) where he authoritatively rocked everything from "New York State of Mind," to a song very close to my heart, '70s jazz-funk flautist Bobbi Humphrey's "Chicago, Damn"—giving its "rappin' in the park, way past dark" refrain a new sheen of powerful lyricism. LARRY MIZELL JR.

HIEROGLYPHICS, BLUE SCHOLARS, MUSAB, TANYA MORGAN, KNOBODY

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) The Northwest loves them some Hieroglyphics and has followed the Oakland crew through all their distinct phases. From their introduction on No Need for Alarm—with clan founder Del tha Funkee Homosapien leading the charge—to the Wu-Tang-esque round of early '90s solo albums, which includes classics like Souls of Mischief's 93 'til Infinity and Casual's Fear Itself. Nowadays the all-star camp's two brightest standouts, besides Del's almost cult-leader swagger, is the g'd up Oaktown lyrical athleticism of Casual and the sincere, soul-deep immaculate flow of Pep Love—whose very slept-on '01 solo debut, Ascension, is Hiero's most powerful document of this millennium. LM

THE DONKEYS, THE DEAD TREES, INSIDE VOICES

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) To say the Donkeys sound like '60s Southern California would be a bit of an understatement. The San Diego band takes cues from the Byrds, David Crosby, Gram Parsons, the Eagles, and just about every other rocker who ever got high in Laurel Canyon. The guitars are breezy and jangly, the drums brush along with subtle fluidity, there's the occasional rollicking piano line, and the harmonies sound like they belong more at a campfire than a club. Sure, there are more than a few bands currently aping the same style, but the Donkeys manage their sound with machine-like precision, leaving in their wake unassuming, yet fully enjoyable, summertime pop jams. RS

K-THE-I???, ASSEMBLE THE EMPIRE

(Crown Room, 205 NW 4th) The post-millennial stream-of-subconsciousness rhymes of Mush Records' K-the-I??? stylistically sit somewhere between Company Flow co-founder Bigg Jus, the Anti-Pop Consortium, and the lyrical juxtapositions of Lifesavas' Vursatyl—plus all of this is usually atop a digitally-damaged electro-hop bed of nails. His upcoming LP Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow is produced by no less than Mush co-conspirator Thavius Beck, the Los Angeles beat guru and noted remixer who, among other things, contributed heavily to The Inevitable Rise and Liberation of Niggy Tardust! by Saul Williams (another artist that can be heard in K's broken, emotive flow). Dense as a neutron star, and with a name that is pure hell on copy editors everywhere, K-the-I??? and his jagged vision are not for the faint of heart. LM