Up & Coming 

THURSDAY 11/22

THE BLACK BLACK BLACK

(Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) You're looking for something to do tonight, eh? Wow. Okay, cool. Good for you. And yeah, after spending the whole day cooped up inside the house, stuffing your fat face (oh wait, no, that was me), maybe the best thing to do is get a bit of fresh air. Perhaps even burn a few calories. And for that, shaking your ham hocks to the Black Black Black's thrashy, get-out-of-your-seat dance-punk jams ought to do the trick nicely. For God's sake, just make sure you've let your dinner settle—because busting out a huge Thanksgiving barf in the wet, smoky Dunes is just too much to handle. ANDREW R. TONRY

FRIDAY 11/23

BUSDRIVER, DAEDELUS, ANTIMC

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music Feature.

AIDS WOLF, GET HUSTLE, NIGHT WOUNDS, METH TEETH

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week!

CHERRY POPPIN' DADDIES, THE STOOD UPS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) I'm curious who exactly will be attending this show. Eugene's horribly named Cherry Poppin' Daddies helped launch the ill-fated swing revival movement with 1997's Zoot Suit Riot and its unstoppably catchy titular single. But has anyone been keeping tabs on them since? They did release one more album, but Soul Caddy came out over seven years ago, and made unfortunate forays into rockabilly, butt-metal guitar riffage, and even Pogues-like Irish thrash. I know of nobody who bought or listened to that thing, and have not heard the words "swing" or "revival" mentioned in the same sentence since college. I really thought the Cherry Poppin' Daddies were kaput, and yet their website promises a new album on the horizon, and here they are touring. So let me rephrase my question: Who is allowing this to happen? Is it you? JUSTIN W. SANDERS

MC FRONTALOT, SCHAFFER THE DARKLORD, SEXY PANTS, LACTACIOUS

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) MC Frontalot is the self-proclaimed inventor of "nerdcore rap" (just typing that makes me want to vomit). Schaffer the Darklord has 450,000 YouTube views for a song in which he rhymes "Bubblicious Bubble Yum" with "This is dumb." Ladies and gentlemen, meet the next Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen! "But hey," you say. "Those guys aren't trying to be good rappers, they're trying to be funny." I'm aware of the fact that these dudes straddle the line between hiphop and what "Weird Al" Yankovic does for a living—that's why I hate them. Schaffer is easily dismissible as a talentless piece of shit doing a modern-day blackface routine for the amusement of white audiences. Frontalot, however, is tougher to put away. His raps aren't terrible. So why, then, label yourself "the inventor of nerdcore rap"? Because if Frontalot weren't the king of nerdcore, he'd be just another totally mediocre white emcee with no career. At least "Weird Al" plays the accordion. GRAHAM BAREY

NEON: EATS TAPES, DJ BONAPARTE, POCKETROCK-IT
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) San Francisco's Eats Tapes have released two albums to date on their hometown label, Tigerbeat6. They've also collaborated with the likes of YACHT and Lucky Dragons, and were recently named Best Electronic Act in the San Francisco Weekly's 2007 Music Awards. The 10 songs heard on this year's Dos Mutantes—which gets points both for the reference and for its potential use as a description of the group itself—feature manipulated static and bursts of white noise. Those harsher elements are pushed aside by the relentlessly cheerful, primary-colored rhythms that dominate the group's work. At their best, Eats Tapes vigorously welcome you to the dance floor. Hard to argue with that. TOBIAS CARROLL

THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, SWIM SWAM SWUM, THE PUNK GROUP

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) I will never be cool. There are many reasons for this, most of them visible from any point in my apartment—the boxes of comics against one wall, the stack of Battlestar Galactica DVDs next to the TV, the Jabba the Hutt figure on top of one of my bookshelves. But trumping all of those reasons is the fact that, circa 1995, I listened to the Presidents of the United States of America, and I thought they were good. Aurally, all I remember at this point are bits of "Peaches"—but there's another memory, a visual one, of sitting in the back of my parents' car, being moody and grumpy and 15, yet finding solace the moment I popped the Presidents' disc into my Discman. Jesus Christ. I have moved on, yes, but there was a point when all of this seemed like a good idea, and oh, how wrong I was. I will never be cool. ERIK HENRIKSEN

SATURDAY 11/24

MENOMENA, THE SHAKY HANDS, TU FAWNING

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music Feature.

BILLY JOEL

(Rose Garden, 1 Center Ct) See Music Feature.

PURPLE RAIN TRIBUTE

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) For all its silliness and sexiness, Purple Rain was more a document of Prince's ambition than anything else. And it's hard to remember so long after it's been embedded into our collective psyche, but when it came out, "When Doves Cry" was a really, really weird song. Still, the astounding, and rightful, success of Purple Rain changed the pop landscape and allowed Prince to indulge and cultivate the freakiness to which we all have become accustomed. Tonight is billed as a "Purple Rain tribute," so you'll probably hear "When Doves Cry" at least twice. As far as the rest of it, I'm gonna go out on a limb and wish for all of the following: religious-sexual overtones, microphone-stand humping, disgruntled backup musicians, moody father-son conflict, Morris Day synchronized dance moves (complete with mirror), and lace. Lots and lots of lace. NED LANNAMANN

MICROTIA, WITHEYESABSTRACT, THE TWITCH, SHELTER RED

(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) One of the members of Microtia has to be from Southern California; or, more specifically, San Diego. They have that distinct late '90s sound that is an equal mix of less spastic GSL acts and more rock-friendly bands from Gravity Records. In other words, they sound like what happened when the hardcore kids started smoking pot and discovered Led Zeppelin. Cave-In, Coalesce, and the Mars Volta are great jumping-off points, and Microtia do all of them justice: The riffs are heavy, the time changes are bizarre, and the bong is (I'm assuming) never too far away. ROB SIMONSEN

OHIOAN AND NATIVE KIN, AU, GHOST TO FALCO

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Ryne Warner has been busy in Portland's kitchen, cooking up all kinds of different musical dishes. The best part is they're all so different—from the sparse noise weirdness of Ghost to Falco to the folksy, marching blues of Ohioan and Native Kin. And even though one (Falco) gives me gas, the inviting, warm tunes of Ohioan bring me to the table every time. The full band, complete with horn section and chanting choruses, is like a big potluck spread—soul food for sure. Tonight's meal marks a special occasion, the release of Ohioan's latest, Being of the Good River. Oh yeah, there'll also be a full moon out. Coincidence? Don't bet on it. ART

SUNDAY 11/25

JULIETTE & THE LICKS, SUFFRAJETT, SCISSORS FOR LEFTY

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) See My, What a Busy Week!

DJ COPY, DUNGEON BROTHERS, GOUSEION, COLIN JONES

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Sunday is a tricky day for shows, always has been. The temptation to stay indoors, laze around, watch movies or even football... it's powerful. But nothing warms the chilly, rain-soaked hearts of Portlanders quite like a boogie-down with Copy, and rightfully so. Whether he's playing or DJing, Copy brings serious jams no matter what he's getting into. The rest of tonight's players are like an ingredients-list of Copy's myriad influences. Gouseion, in particular, brings a uniquely exciting mix of glitched-out electro-pop, and Colin Jones (of Brokaw) makes knockdown drag-out dance pop in all its freaked-out glory. This will almost certainly be a week-making Sunday show, so search the couch for two bucks in change and start the week off right. HANNAH CARLEN

PLEASUREBOATERS, MATTRESS, CARUSO CARUSO

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Maybe you caught the Pleasureboaters and their crazy angular dance-thrash when they blew through town last week. But if you missed out, it's Okay—the Seattle band is making the absolute most of their short West Coast tour, playing once in the cities along I-5 on the way down, and then once more on the way back. Kind of strange, but kind of smart. Either way the shows figure to be wild, as the group's debut album, Gross, packs all the punch of a basement punk show. Imagine Cedric Bixler-Zavala from his At the Drive-In days at the mic, backed up by Drive Like Jehu, spun into dance beats. And weird as that combination makes me feel, I know the stage would most certainly be covered in sweat. ART

MONDAY 11/26

ART OF FLYING, LARRY YES, MISS MASSIVE SNOWFLAKE

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) Art of Flying's new CD arrived with a New Mexico postmark. Stuffed inside the beautifully designed, colorful, hand-made case was a thoughtful letter banged out on an old, inky typewriter. And every bit of delicate, personal care put into the packaging carries over to the album. Attempt is chock full of frolicking melodies, rolling rhythms, and tight, intricate production. It covers a lot of ground, from punky noise to folk to psychedelia, but all styles are cleverly and expertly crafted. The group is fronted by David Costanza and his wife Anne (who played together in '80s LA improv band the Whitefronts), along with drummer Peter Halter and Portland fixture Larry Yes on guitar. All in all, Attempt is some seriously bitchin', near righteous shit. The only problem is that if it catches on—and it seriously should—it's going to take forever to make all the cases they'll need by hand. ART

MONOTONIX, VANISHING KIDS, DJ NATE C

(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) Note to the owners of the Tube: Get a new insurance policy. A big one. Now. Because the building you call home is about to cave in. It may also be on fire at the time. Either way, after Monotonix (from Tel Aviv, Israel) are done, there's not going to be anything left but a gigantic pile of black soot and ash. The musical equivalent of chain lightning or spontaneous combustion, Monotonix do it all with just a stand-up drummer, vocalist, and one guitar. With the drums on fire (sometimes literally), the trio crash and wail with total abandon and a disregard for the line that separates performer from audience. These three dudes combine the intense primal focus of the Fuse with the tight, driving jams of Federation X, to near perfection. Do not miss this show. ART

TUESDAY 11/27

THE MISADVENTURES OF TWO, ESCAPE FROM WITCH MOUNTAIN, THE FRIENDLY SKIES

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) The Misadventures of Two treat the troubled with two great voices. With bouncy beats and Besnard-Lakes-esque baritone vocal harmony drones, this dynamic duo drives donuts around talentless bands three times their size. A little like Low without the lackluster trance, the dense music of the Misadventures turns frowns upside down. They choose chords, chimes, chirps, and choruses carefully—enough to convert even the curmudgeonliest concertgoer. Cheers, chaps! JIM WITHINGTON

CHEMLAB, U.S.S.A., SKELETON KEY, ZONEWIRE, SMP, BLOWUPNIHILIST
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) So you've got Duane Denison, best known for his guitar work in Jesus Lizard and Tomahawk. Along for the ride is Paul Barker, bassist for industrial institution Ministry. U.S.S.A. is their new band, and The Spoils is their debut: a solid, sometimes savage collection of rock music. (There's also the ambient-tinged "Blue Light," which suggests that this band has a much larger potential range than what's explored here.) Vocalist Gary Call is the wild card: Sometimes he opts for a calm-but-secretly-raging approach, while at others he comes off as a grim, antisocial character from a Bukowski novel who's awakened one day to find himself at the helm of a world-class rock band. It's disorienting—but I'm thinking that's the point. TC

WELSH RABBIT, SHOESHINE BLUES, STUNTDOUBLER

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Following a couple of power-pop EPs, Welsh Rabbit has released a full-length, the first-rate Don Quixote vs. Sancho Panza, with co-frontmen Nick Levine and Kyle Chilla taking equal, distinctive shares. (The title alludes to the dueling songwriters, but as far as who is which, the band's not saying.) Quixote launches with a motorik hum before embarking on a wide-spanning survey of Brit-rock, bouncing assuredly from Kinkdom to Bowieglam to Smiths romanticism. It's the fruit of over two years' worth of assembled recordings done with Think Airbag's Sean Bartley at his Powell House Studios. Tonight, they celebrate the album's release as part of an In Music We Trust showcase. And guess what? It's totally free. NL

SUICIDAL TENDENCIES, MUNICIPAL WASTE, ENGORGED

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Suicidal Tendencies have always been a major guilty pleasure of mine. Never mind the fact that I haven't listened to them for years, that their angst-ridden lyrics could give any current emo band a solid run for their money, that I don't even own a skateboard, that their bassist is in the current god-awful incarnation of Metallica, or that their show is annoyingly going to have more people wearing hats with the bills flipped up than a fixed-gear convention. As soon as Mike Muir starts talk-rapping about wanting a Pepsi, everything else goes out the window and I'm left wishing I was 10 years younger and in a fight with my parents. RS

WEDNESDAY 11/28

APPETITE FOR DANCETRUCTION: DJ JOEE IRWIN

(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week!

LIVING PROOF, DEBASER, BRAILLE, KID ESPI

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) In the world of Portland hiphop, it goes: (1) Sandpeople; (2) Everyone else. Seeing that as truth, young rappers Prem and Flowtope allied themselves with Sandpeople super-producer Sapient to release the new and solid Roots to Branches under the name Living Proof. Tonight's show celebrates the release of this jazzy and totally listenable collaborative effort with performances from Portland heavies Braille and Debaser, among others. Sapient's bangers will be on full blast during Debaser and Living Proof's set, and if that isn't reason enough to head out, Braille is a guy who's rocked thousands opening up shows for the late James Brown. Yes, that James Brown. GB

POP TOMORROW!: ZEITGEIST, CITY DRUID, GREGORY MILES HARRIS

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) It's a dreary, wet, depressing evening, and so I am extra appreciative of Zeitgeist's light, bouncy, bubble-gummy pop. I like Steph Hays' cute, unrefined vocals on the softer numbers, and Chris Gabriel's fearless, yowling vocals on the louder ones. I like the little touches, the cascading "ba-ba-bas" on the yearning "Two Weeks," its little blasts of cartoonish noise, like bombs dropping on your heart. I need bubbling melody today, and heartfelt, irony-free lyrics about love and stuff. I need to commiserate with music, to swap stories and let each other know we're not alone, that this too shall pass. Zeitgeist provides. JWS

DAMO SUZUKI'S NETWORK

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Back in the early '70s, Damo Suzuki played with the legendary Can, contributing vocals to some of their best albums. So it's no stretch to say Suzuki is comfortable taking on shit that's both weird and totally awesome. And he's been floating on that freewheelin', experimentalist spirit since the days of Tago Mago. For the last 10 years he's been traveling around the world, building what he calls Damo Suzuki's Network. In each town, Suzuki plays improvised shows with local musicians, whom he refers to as "Sound Carriers." The music is neither structured nor rehearsed, which means that sometimes it probably turns into a king-hell shit storm. But then again, you never know. And with Suzuki's wealth of experience, along with members of the Thermals, M. Ward, Danava, Desert City Soundtrack, and more, this could end up blowing some motherfucking minds. ART

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