SEA DONKEYS, LITTLE HOWLIN' WOLF, EVOLUTIONARY JASS BAND
(Dunes, 1909 NE MLK) Dude, "jazz" is such a harsh and, like, snappy word. It's so rigid. Doesn't really fit a lot of its best products. Evolutionary Jass Band, however, kick the pesky Zs to the coib and give their trip a more soft, melllllow, organic feel. Make no mistake, it's still jazz—just an evolution of. Hence the name. Duh. Check out their Change of Scene record. Muy delicioso. Which is Spanish for: fuckin' awesome, brah! GRANT MORRIS
THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, LORDS OF LIGHT, UNPERSONS
(House show, 2624 NE Sumner) The Better to See You With's adorable Holloway twins on guitar and drums would probably be a sick enough duo, but as a recently expanded four-piece, this is the current not to be missed heavy band in Portland. Adding Nate Carson (Point Line Plane) on rolling creepy-drone synth, the band has quickly gelled into a mold of unique, complicated metal that fully embraces risk and experimentation. Singer Fae (Sickie Sickie) has a beautifully bluesy low tone to her voice, warbling terrifying, mournful wails as if in a trance deeply weeping for all human sin. These are dark times, and this band will provide the soundtrack. JAMES SQUEAKY Note: This party's hosts say, "no booze, no drugs, no bad vibes." So don't even think about it. Action starts at 7 pm, $5, all ages.
PEARL JAM, SLEATER-KINNEY, DAVID CROSS
(Arlene Schnitzer Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) Yep, Sleater-Kinney. Just added. Not that it matters. Shit's sold out anyway. See Music, pg. 19.
HEATHER DUBY, BARTON CARROLL, TRACTOR OPERATOR
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) See Music, pg. 21.
VAGABOND OPERA, HEROES AND VILLIANS, DICKEL BROTHERS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) So, right now my rallyin' cry for finding good music is "this is sooo not indierock." Vagabond Opera is sooo not indierock. They're not even "circus-rock" like some critics have said. More like, circus music. Plain and simple. Full on big-top carnival jams with all kindsa wacky gypsy instrumentation, weirdo waltzes, and Eastern European freakiness. Bangin' stuff. As for Heroes and Villains, they have a new record in the works, but have you heard their cover of Tom Waits' "Tom Traubert's Blues" off the last EP? Spooky good. Better than Waits' version. Yeah, I said it! What?! What?! That's what I thought. GM
DABRYE, DJ TANT, DJ BEYONDA, TRUCKASAURUS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Dear Truckasaurus—Where are you repping on the dubya dubya dubya, my brothers? I searched high and low (advanced Googling) on the interweb to learn more about you, only to be asked rhetorically, "Who needs a Truckasaurus to roll up to Home Depot?" Not me, but it sure sounds fun. The three of you could pile in the back of my Japanese compact, and all of your gizmos and dials and Game Boys would be back there, so you could make my ride go, "gleep gleep gloob, Ka-THUMP." People would stop and stare because you look like mean Gresham SOBs, but soon they'd be distracted by that video clip you always play where it looks like Ultimate Warrior is giving the Hulkster a beej. I'd roll up to customer service with your 8-bit anti-rhythms pulsing out to the home garden area, and I'd be like, "Where are your drywall screws?" and then we could run out, screaming, "Fuck this! I'm going to Lowe's." On second thought, I most definitely need a Truckasaurus to roll up to Home Depot. Ka-THUMP! CHAS BOWIE
HARRY AND THE POTTERS, DRACO AND THE MALFOYS
(In Other Words, 8 NE Killingsworth) Yes sir! Newly announced show! Dig it: Harry and the mofreakin' Potters make rad Bright-Eyes-meets-fantasy-nerd-dork emo songs about Harry Potter books. But, oh man, they better watch out for those dastardly Draco and the Malfoys kids! Evil will triumph, I'm tellin' you. Also bound to triumph: any self-respecting bully that might, say, waaander into In Other Words and get to work pants-ing nerds, stuffing nerds into lockers and trashcans, stealing nerds' lunch money, etc. Evil rules, but bullies rule, like, TOTALLY MORE! You'll see. Especially if you're a nerd—and I'm thinking you probably are. GM
ONEIDA, LETI ANGEL, THE BATS OF BELFRY
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Brooklyn's Oneida play very loud. So loud that their records don't really do justice to how the saturation of sound is interpreted in a live club setting. Maybe that's why the last record I heard of theirs was largely psychedelic, folk-droney, and at times atmospheric. I definitely respect a band that approaches recording and live performance from two totally different perspectives. Live, colliding organ sounds knock holes in repetitive drumming while blistering guitar and bass provide a psyche-rock freak-out experience. Just because they worship the Grateful Dead doesn't mean you have to in order to enjoy their rock. JS See also Music, pg. 21.
TRAINWRECK, SEXY PANTS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Okay, I'll admit it, though I'm confused as to why I feel shame about it: I like Tenacious D. Jack Black and Kyle Gass' comedy rock is solid, funny, and—most importantly—fairly rocking. Sure, it's not "true" rock, but motherfuckin' A, look at what most of "rock" is these days—pop punk Hot Topic-ers and one overrated Brit band after another—and tell me that Tenacious D doesn't kick their asses. Hard. Anyway, okay, since Jack Black's off bein' a big-time star in them moving pictures, where's that leave Kyle Gass? It leaves him in Trainwreck, where good ol' KG is the guitarist/vocalist for the rock/rockabilly hybrid that has a fair bit of goofiness and Southernness (as if those two aren't the same thing). There are twisty guitar solos and—yep—flutes apparently on loan from Tull, and the whole thing's kind of like what'd happen if the Duke boys were listening to AC/DC in the General Lee and decided to start a rawkin' band. It's lighthearted and fun and just fine, but it also pretty much doesn't do anything other than make you want to listen to Tenacious D instead. ERIK HENRIKSEN
DRUGS, PUSSY GUTT, GLAMOROUS PAT
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Wow. A bill consisting solely of folks originally from our oft-forgotten neighbor Idaho. In fact, save for the drummer of DRUGS (he's from the metropolis of Lewiston), all of these kids have lived in Boise. But now, like a potato famine, their rotting eyes descend on Portland. Glamorous Pat brings his addled autistic art/noise to the table. Boy/girl duo Pussy Gutt have slowed down since the last time I saw them. Their once sloppy Lightning Bolt worship has matured into a stripped-down ambient sludgerock. DRUGS are a trio led (or is it misled?) by Food Hole curator Bennett Yankee; and it's a dark path he's taking them down. While many nouveau black metal dabblers settle for the "copy of a copy of a copy" approach, DRUGS have found a unique sonic space where electronic noise, low-end synth, exploratory guitars, and capable metal drumming collide to make something entirely new. These guys are one of THE bands to watch in Portland 2006. NATHAN CARSON
CAMERA OBSCURA, GEORGIE JAMES
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Man, oh man, I love me some Camera Obscura! Yeah, I know they get tons o' press but—know what?—they totally deserve it. One of the best things to come outta Scotland since Sean Connery, CamOb make thrilling indiepop that fits somewhere between ABBA and YACHT. A huge divide, sure, but whatevs. Georgie James rock likewise. Tonight the pop POPS and it pops big. GM
KITCHEN SINK'S WELCOME HOME, STRANGER: DAT'R, TEAM EVIL, BARK, HIDE AND HORN, THE ONLINE ROMANCE, HEY LOVER, GHOSTING, TRE, DJ RICKY PANG, DJ TWO-HANDED MANNY
(House show, 5037 N Princeton) The Kitchen Sink's Welcome Home, Stranger party is billed as a "one-night-only multidisciplinary arts event" where seven bands, two DJs, and 20 visual artists get together to fill a vacant St. Johns house with wall-to-wall art. There will be visual art, performance pieces, food (provided by Vegan Empire), short films, a dance party, and some fine, fine music blasting in the backyard. Shit, Ghosting alone had me at hello. Note: Show up early. Like 3 pm early. ADAM GNADE
SPANK ROCK'S DEVLIN & DARKO
(Fez Ballroom, 316 SW 11th) It can be a little confusing to talk about Spank Rock, who put out one of my favorite albums so far of 2006, YoYoYoYoYoYo. There's MC Spank Rock, who often rolls without the "MC" part. But Spank Rock's also the name of the emcee's larger ensemble that includes producer XXXchange, and DJs Devlin (beat selector) and Darko (scratch DJ). Tonight Devlin and Darko come alone with four turntables to give Portland a little taste of how they got to the top (Darko's an accomplished battle DJ who cut his teeth on the Baltimore club circuit). What to expect: insanely dope beats; the newest hiphop and club tracks you haven't heard yet; at least one of your favorite high school jams; fly honies; a shirt dripping with sweat; bodies grinding up on one another; an affirmation of the power of the DJ. CB
ENCHANTED 4ST, PHANTOM POWER, NINJA CLAN, FADE 13
(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) On Portland's Enchanted 4ST's Synesthesia record we see a band equally at home with indierock, noise, and pop. It's dramatic, theatrical stuff that's as much Phantom of the Opera as it is Joy Division. Don't let this band's cheesy, cartoon album art and aesthetic fool you—they are a seriously solid art-rock band. JASON PEARSON
TIDES, COVEN OF ONE
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) Boston's Tides are a big, clattering teakettle of instrumental metal. Trafficking in slow builds, murk-buried guitars, and tripped-out visuals, they start out with a steaming low simmer, then rage up into a boil until the teapot's whistling like a train engine and all the hippie girls in the audience are up and doing their stupid hippie girl dances. Which is not to say Tides is stupid or hippie, just that they wield a kind of dark and witchy rhythm that makes you wanna lose yourself a while. AG
CAPITALIST CASUALTIES, SKARP, BUNG, STATUS QUO, SPLATTERHOUSE, FORCED MARCH, CONSUMPTION
(IWW Hall, formerly Liberty Hall, 311 N Ivy) One of the original West Coast power violence bands, Capitalist Casualties are making a rare appearance in North Portland at the former Liberty Hall. Kids who weren't born when Cap Cas started recording will of course be fucking stoked. But for bands with a more modern agenda, Seattle's Skarp deserve your attention. The quartet shares much in common with their Alternative Tentacles labelmates Ludicra. Just replace some of the European melancholy with some old-fashioned California punk (and a wee dash of ska—ouch!). Renae Louise Betts' vocal stench sounds distinctly more like Karyn Crisis or Amy Miret from Nausea than Ludicra's Laurie Sue. Still, the blast of Skarp's self-proclaimed "blackout grind" album Requiem includes hyper speed punk/metal/crust drum beats, riff upon emo-metal riff, and production complements of the ubiquitous Billy Anderson. I expect they are titanic in concert. NC
MUNICIPAL WASTE, MENACER, DEADFALL, DEATHSAW
(Sabala's, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Just overheard these two heshers getting all pumped: "Dude, I heard Municipal Waste is coming! Yeah man, their 'party thrash' is like totally slaying. Did you know that Dave Witte from Human Remains, Discordance Axis, and Melt-Banana is drumming for them? No way! Yeah, that's how come they can play SO fast. Whoa. They kinda remind me of like, '80s shit that I never got to see. Like who? You know man—Corrosion of Conformity (Animosity!!!), Nuclear Assault, all that rad shit. Man, I'm too young, I missed all that. So are Municipal Waste! Heheh you're right. So, which show are you going to? Fucking both man!" NC Municipal Waste and Deadfall also play Monday at Food Hole with Abe Vigoda, Hellshock, and Argumentix.
AT DUSK, PRIME MERIDIAN, ALAN SINGLEY AND PANTS MACHINE
(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Don't let the silly band name fool you, Alan Singley and his Pants Machine are more serious than anything. Sure, lyrics about dancing to Thin Lizzy might be lighthearted, but the group (Singley, Benjamin Jaspers, Leb Borgerson, and Gus Elg) erect stately monuments to pop music's past—without really sounding like anybody else. The group's new album, lovingkindness, is clean as Bacharach, indie-feeling as Built to Spill, and gentle at just the right moment. Prediction for bands to go big in 2007? Right here, baby. JP
REDBIRD + JOSH HYDEMAN, ANTIQUE, DJ NATE C
(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) Josh Hydeman and Redbird (AKA Norther Emily Carson) come together for some good ol' fashioned kill-'em-and-kill-'em-dead violence. Experimental music can be duckling soft and it can be dumpster heavy and it can be all things in between, but tonight it's going to be peeling the paint off the Tube's walls, smashing its TV screens, and liquefying innards all the way up to Magic Gardens. Speaking of magic, that's exactly what this show will be. Fuck talking shit about Mondays. Mondays are great. AG
(Les Schwab Amphitheater, 344 SW Shevlin-Hixon, Bend) We filled up our backpacks with 40s and covered them up with clothes. After an hour in line at Bumbershoot we made the cut and shuffled onto the floor. Packed in among all the other kids we snuck drinks and discretely blew out hits of weed. When Ween finally came out, my friends and I were all down at least 40 ounces. Onstage, Dean and Gene Ween, along with their band, were absolutely flawless—so good it was shocking. Their ruthless yet soulful precision flew by as we drained ounce after ounce. The urge to pee grew. The bathroom became a great magnet, tugging at us harder and harder. We held on. We crossed our legs, clinched, and fought it. We had to... Ween was just that good. There wasn't a second to be missed. ANDREW R. TONRY
RACONTEURS, KELLEY STOLTZ
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) A raconteur is a person blessed with the ability to raise a common anecdote to a transcendent state. Certainly Jack White's indie super-group are talented individuals, but less so at storytelling, and more so at rocking your ears off. If I was Mr. White I would have named the band the Rock-On-Teurs, because the '70s Thunderbird rock they're pumping out really kicks storytelling's ass to the curb. Why dilly-dally with expounding folklore when you could be focusing on weaving crunchy guitars with thrumming bass lines and the dynamic vocal talents of White and über-talented Brendan Benson? This show may not feature any stirring renditions of Aesop's Fables, but it will certainly feature a lot of your ass being rocked. NOAH SANDERS
BOOT CAMP CLIK, CLOCKWERK
(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) Timbs and hood check! Let's take it back to the days of pretending we were from New York, y'all... you know, rolling our pant leg up, calling each other "son," and all that, 'cause the mighty BCC is coming to town, god! Boot Camp is the only '90s NYC rap supergroup—remember, there were a few—that is still intact, and they'll all be here tonight, in their full BK glory. Buckshot, Smif-N-Wessun, OGC, and my personal favorite, Heltah Skeltah, will doubtless make you forget the stunner shades and have you fatigued-out chanting "Eshkoshka!" LARRY MIZELL JR.
PANIC! AT THE DISCO, DRESDEN DOLLS, HUSHSOUND
(Portland Expo Center, 2060 N Marine) I've never seen a picture of Panic! at the Disco, but I imagine it looks like this: a group of odd, but good-looking lads, hair finely coiffed, artfully dressed to a sickening T. A portrait you've seen a million times before. A young band caught in the act, striving to reach that awkward collusion between abysmal emo-punk and indie credibility. Well, at least that's what their shit-turd brand of trendified emo rock brought to mind when I was wasting an hour of my life perusing their album. Every guitar lick, every pained wail, every lyric about love and loss has all been heard before, and frankly, I never want to hear it again. NS
THE RENTALS, OZMA
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Music, pg. 19.