Up & Coming 

THURSDAY 11/30

HOLY GHOST REVIVAL

(Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) Bainbridge Island, Washington's Holy Ghost Revival is what would have happened if the Two Gallants (or Cat Stevens if you're OLD) had been around during Bowie's most coked-up glory days and cut a record with him and his buddy Iggy Pop. It has that elegant-meets-trashy thing goin' for it that makes their music absolutely thrilling. But just when you think you've got them pegged, they go and throw in some majestic Jethro Tull-ishness or a little vintage Axl. For a preview pick up the latest issue of NME, which comes complete with a 1965 Records sampler CD featuring HGR at their best. JASON PEARSON

MENOMENA, 31KNOTS, LETI ANGEL

(Disjecta, 230 E Burnside) 31Knots have managed what would seem an impossible feat—they have compressed both the musical and theatrical bombast of the most filigreed prog-rock into a style that is utterly economical, refined, and powerful. On top of all of their dramatic élan, they are bona fide workhorses, pumping a steady arterial flow of albums and EPs into the world (their most recent, Polemics, came out earlier this month on Polyvinyl) and maintaining a Herculean touring schedule. Openers Leti Angel are the new art pop-harmonizing, oblique line-tangling outfit of betrothed dreamboats Charlie Salas-Humara (Panther, ex-The Planet The) and Maggie Vail (ex-Bangs), and former 31K and Pseudosix drummer Joe Kelly. They could well prove to be the X of the 21st century. SAM MICKENS

DRATS!!! PRESENTS OVER THE EDGE SCREEN­ING AND ROCK OPERETTA, DIGITAL KNIFE

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) I love getting invited. Invite me to dinner, a movie, a party—I've even been known to tag along to the grocery or the dentist. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when I received a personal invitation from Drats!!! to the free screening of Over the Edge and performance of their rock operetta, Welcome to New Granada. All of the songs are based on the characters of the most rad rebellion movie of all time! In case you weren't around to catch the Mercury's Rock Gods issue, I waxed prolific about Cheap Trick and how this movie was a total teenage catalyst to the world of joint smoking and rock 'n' roll ass. Drats!!! hunted me down to let me know about this musical/cinematic event that will for sure be a shit-ton of fun. How could I not be there? It's free for everybody AND you can say that you were specially invited—what more could you want? Smoke a bowl and pull out the popcorn, it's movie night at Holocene! SALINA NUÑEZ

VALIENT THORR, NEBULA, THE ATOMIC BITCHWAX, ARTIMUS PYLEDRIVER

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 19.

FRIDAY 12/1

YETI LOVE, OLD IRONSIDES

(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) How much does the fabulous Yeti Love love you? They love you so much they've set up two MySpace pages' worth of songs so you don't get tired of the industry standard four songs. Which is nice, nice, nice, because I am head over heels in love (lust too!) with Yeti Love's electro dissonant robopop. It's like if the Faint, who are also playing this week, decided they cared fuck-all for radio play, MTV, and album sales, and just decided to go down the dark path toward anti-commercial raddness. I know raddness isn't a real word, but dude, I DON'T CARE. Yeti Love doesn't care either! GRANT MORRIS

PANIC! AT THE DISCO, JACK'S MANNEQUIN, COBRA STARSHIP

(Memorial Coliseum, 300 Winning Way) Have you seen Panic! At the Disco's hair? Wow, seriously nice stuff. Angular, sculpted, dyed perfectly, shaped into magical works of art resembling spiny conch shells, gunshot head wounds, strange dinosaurs, and—best of all—my grandmother's Aqua Netted hair helmet circa 1972. Do they make music too? I honestly have no idea. PETER DAVIS

THE HIDDEN CAMERAS, BORN RUFFIANS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg. 23.

PM DAWN, STRENGTH, DJ BJ, DJ BLACKMARKS

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Is it possible to preview PM Dawn's upcoming show without a mocking "remember the early '90s?" bit? (Remember Hammer pants? Remember when the Soviet Union collapsed? Remember that thing on Gorbachev's head? Ha ha ha.) I say this time we try to avoid that. While I had no idea PM Dawn still existed until about an hour ago, they do. I looked it up. Apparently there's still an audience for those corny-ass songs I made out to in junior high—1991's "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss," and '92's "I'd Die Without You." As it turns out, PM is still touring the country on those tracks, according to their website, along with help from "the new hits." In this instance, it appears, "hits" is a relative term. PM Dawn will be here as part of their "2006 Summer of Bliss" tour, which it seems has stretched into late fall. PM Dawn is not about punctuality or facts, they're about pubescent make out songs—always have been. MATT DRISCOLL

DEVIN THE DUDE, CHEF BOY R BANGERS, CHILLEST ILLEST, GATOR, CHRIS RAY

(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) When most people talk about Houston's rap scene, they throw around the Golden Three (Chamillionaire, Mike Jones, and Paul Wall), and if they've done a little homework, they namedrop DJ Screw and UGK. But those who have been keeping a closer ear to the ground know that one dude has been holding it down in H-Town for damn near a decade with ultra-funny, slick-ass rhymes, and that Dude is Devin. With socially conscious themes such as weed puffin' and ass shakin', Devin is the shit you put in when the buzz gets just right and you need something smoother than Karo Syrup on rubber sheets to get the speakers bumping. This is your official hiphop jam of the week. Nay, the month. CHAS BOWIE

SATURDAY 12/2

LOCH LOMOND, JOHANNA KUNIN

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Dearest Loch Lomond, I have been stalkin' you somethin' awful. I've been to your shows, listened to your music online and on CD, and now I'm totally going public with it. Like fellow Stumptownies Horse Feathers, LL take old-timey Americana (saw! mandolin!), a little Nick Drake-ness, and make it pretty and epic all at the same time. That's some serious dexterity, yo! Dexterity deserves high rewards. Join me in my stalkin'-ness! GM

FRED THOMAS, KELLY SLUSHER, ETHAN SWAN, STEVE GEVURTS

(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) Kelly Slusher's delightful indiepop has thus far escaped these ears. Which is a shame, really, because I found a new favorite in Slusher. Resting (comfortably) somewhere between Her Space Holiday and a less electronic Postal Service (or maybe George Pringle), Slusher's music evokes all kinds of warm, pleasant, hearth-and-home images. You won't get a more intimate location than Valentine's for this sweetly intimate music. JP

AMY MILLAN, GREG LASWELL

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Amy Millan's day job as co-lead singer and guitarist for the unbearably cute (and great) Montreal pop band Stars must make her a little sick at times. All the sugar-sweet hooks and sentimental lyrics (there are only so many ways to say "I love you," and Stars has exhausted almost all of them) pretty much disappear on her solo debut, Honey from the Tombs, which is a modest affair driven by Millan's husky voice on a bed of twangy acoustic guitars. There's more whiskey and wistfulness than lovey-dovey pop sheen, which is no problem at all. JOEL HARTSE

WEIRD WEEDS, MUSIC POPULATION PROJECT, MISE EN ABYME

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) From Mise en Abyme's MySpace page, "And now for a little story... There were two at first. Birds chirp in the trees and they were married. That was in the forefatherland; a land of bells that crack into the night. These were strangers to the West when they flew upon the evergreen north to plant their feet in the damp earth. A land of ports. A bridge for every occasion. They found the third inside a dark cave. His fur was blue and he pronounced his name 'Chesty.' They lured him with cured meats. They baited him with strange-sounding beats and within a week the marriage was complete. Soon, lobsters were hypnotized: their heads on the table; their tails in the air... next came the one known as 'Jesquibel the Great,' a master of the squirrel fighting style learned from monks in the mountains surrounding Nueva Mexico. And so within a great oak the abyss had been set." Thank you Mise en Abyme, I couldn't have described you better myself. Check out their newest album, Do You Hear the Hum on Marriage Records to find the dark beats that are hypnotizing lobsters everywhere. SN See also Music, pg. 21.

WOLFMOTHER, SILVERSUN PICKUPS, SIMON DAWES

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Oh, Australia, you sneaky bitch. How are we ever to trust you again? It seems like just yesterday you shipped the Vines to the States, and before that it was Silverchair. That's not an impressive track record, Australia. I've grown wary of your ways. Now, being shoved down our throat and pasted on the cover of every mainstream music magazine this fine country has to offer, Wolfmother is here—care of Australia. Even as critics rave over the band's afro-topped Sabbath/Zeppelin/MC5 styling, with Rolling Stone saying Wolfmother sounds like "the Darkness if they took themselves seriously," I can't help but be skeptical. You've tricked me before, Australia. I'm not about to let it happen again. Is sounding like the Darkness if they took themselves seriously a good thing? Should songs about unicorns be serious? Rolling Stone says yes. I'm not so sure. MD

FLIPPER, FITZ OF DEPRESSION, THE CLOROX GIRLS, THE HALF ASS FAMILY BAND

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) The most exciting thing about Flipper's upcoming gig at Dante's is not the fact that yet another influential, late '70s/early '80s Bay Area punk band will be setting up their stacks in PDX, or that any time Flipper comes to town there's a chance a semi-famous rocker will OD in a local motel room. No, the exciting thing will be the behemoth on bass. Joining Flipper for a December tour of the West Coast and UK, Krist Novoselic will play the part of William Shatter, the band's original bassist, who died in 1987. You may remember Flipper for their releases on Subterranean Records back in the day—or '82's Generic—or for being that band that slowed things down and noised things up within the SF punk scene. You may remember Novoselic as the tall drink of water in Nirvana who didn't blow his brains out, or ruin his good name with the Foo Fighters. MD

COLE MILLER ISLAND, WHITE FANG, OVEN MITTS

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Oven Mitts is kee-RAZY, childlike hiphop made by one Ms. Chevelle Wiseman of Portland, Oregon, USA, Planet Earth, the Milky Way, the Universe. She has a great, hiccup-y voice that rappy-raps about eating popsicles, baking competitions, and the dangers of foxtails. Chevelle's act is pure five-year-old kid bedroom song weirdness with music that's pure five-year-old (2001-ish) laptop electronica. You know that thing called "fun"? Do you like that shit? I sure do. Fun is great. Oven Mitts is so fun it makes me wanna be a better man. GM

SUNDAY 12/3

THE FAINT, RATATAT

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) It's been over a year since synth-rockers the Faint have been out on the road, and while they don't have any new wares to hock, they're doing a quick winter tour to get into the groove before heading back to Omaha to continue working on their upcoming album. Since their last show in Portland back in November '04, they've toured extensively in Europe and the US behind their last album, Wet from Birth, hit up Japan, Australia, and Mexico, landed their first TV spot with a performance on the Jimmy Kimmel Show, and lead singer Todd Baechle got hitched to Azure Ray beauty Orenda Fink and subsequently took her last name. Tonight the Faint are sharing the stage with New York's Ratatat, whose pretty indie electronica is a bit non-confrontational and low-key compared to their disco-in-the-meat-grinder tour-mates, but should be a good warm-up to the sweat fest on the dancefloor when the Faint boys hit the stage. Your preshow entertainment can be found at dropkickthefaint.com. JESSIE DUQUETTE

PULSE EMITTER, [VIEW], BRIZBOMB

(Ground Kontrol, 511 NW Couch) Music these days nearly wouldn't be music without accompanying video projections. Tonight, three local auteurs of the audio/video movement throw down at Ground Kontrol, where the PBR flows like water, and the classic video games ping and pong 'til the wee hours of the morn. Brizbomb accompanies his images with oozing puddles of ambient sound created on this intimidating six-foot-high circuit board-looking thing that looks like it could do some serious damage if it ever became sentient. Pulse Emitter draws from degrees in both engineering and composition to create somewhat epic sound sculptures on nothing more than a homemade modular synth. And [View], lord love him, "uses vintage tube powered silver face shock therapy treatment medical equipment to produce his sounds," according to the press release. This event marks [View]'s final show in Portland, so if you're a fan of vintage tube powered silver face shock therapy treatment medical equipment, don't miss it. If you're not a fan of vintage tube powered silver face shock therapy treatment medical equipment, Ground Kontrol just got the interactive Dance Dance Revolution. Shake that digital booty. JUSTIN W. SANDERS

GOB IRON, JAY FARRAR, ANDERS PARKER

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) We're driving along an American highway, just the two of us. The landscape is peppered with agave cactus, Joshua trees, volcanic rock, heady evergreens, and local watering holes with "open" signs in the dirty, dust-covered windows. It's my turn behind the wheel and you are sleeping, mouth open, head uncomfortably leaning against the passenger window. I look over at you, and half-smile into my cold convenience store coffee. What other way to know America—the open road and the steady strum of the earnest singer/songwriter leading us through one rest stop after another. Tonight, memories like these will be evoked through the new work of alt-country main-man Jay Farrar and fellow college radio troubadour Anders Parker. They will be sharing the stage, beginning with solo sets, and then performing together as Gob Iron, showcasing a round of classic folk songs with a few originals thrown in for good measure. What originally began as a post-show practice session is now an album of sonic tumbleweeds and desert ghosts—perfect driving music for your next adventure behind the wheel. SN

NAPALM DEATH, A LIFE ONCE LOST, DEAD TO FALL, ANIMOSITY, IMPALED

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) See My, What a Busy Week!, pg. 19.

JOANNA NEWSOM, SMOG

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Harp-playing Gelfling Joanna Newsom is at Aladdin tonight with her fellow singer/songwriter, and beau, Bill Callahan. Newsom's latest, Ys, is a beautiful and bizarre orchestral fairy tale, with everything from banjo to French horn, and of course, Newsom's child-like croon-to-cackle singing voice. Newsom's UK tour early next year will be backed by a full orchestra, but tonight will be more intimate with her six-piece touring band. Callahan, known 'round these parts as "Smog," has been making lo-fi rock since the '80s, and is a pioneer of lo-fi recording. Callahan plays songs in the same vein as Portland locals Minmae, often stripped down dreary heartbreakers with low bluesy vocals. Callahan also contributed to Ys, so there's a good chance the two will drop some duets as part of the gig. JD

MONDAY 12/4

THE LITTLE ONES, SMALL SINS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) The Little Ones' EP, Sing Song, sweeps open with a steady drumbeat, a jangle on the guitar, and a chorus of delicate but proud "whoas" that summon the sunniest of smiles from behind any cold, gray clouds. It sounds simple, but a lot of good pop is. And that's only a warm-up, because following the first song (called "Let Them Ring the Bells," for the record) is my personal highlight of the seven-song disc, "Lovers Who Uncover," which is the tune that quickly convinced me the Little Ones could quite possibly become one of the coolest bands to have recently invaded the indiepop genre. Boasting a little bit of the Shins and Plastic Mastery in their sound, the Littles Ones (as with all good pop) also focus on plenty of sweet harmonies—and handclaps, too. MEGAN SELING

HANDSOME FAMILY, SOUTHERLY

(Fez Ballroom, 316 SW 11th) Made up of husband and wife team Brett and Rennie Sparks, Albuquerque's Handsome Family make creepy country rock dirges that have often been called "gothic"—and for good reason. This is some dark material, full of ghosts and bones and death and doom most tragic. But where a lot of their peers make decidedly home-recorded affairs, the Sparkses' music comes out lush, rich, and produced to glorious results. Make sure to check out their Last Days of Wonder album on Carrot Top Records. And no, that has nothing to do with the genius comedian. JP

DRUGS, EAR VENOM, BLOWUPNIHILIST

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Two good-times dudes from Seattle, Ear Venom have been cultivating their psychedelic and experimental noise-fuckery, blasting Portland's eardrums every couple of months. Having much in common with local favorites Yellow Swans, Ear Venom twist and mangle processed guitar, tape loops, and sequencers through delay and various filters, leaving a thick grimy film crawling through your skin and blackening your cortex. Playing this night with DRUGS, who have transformed themselves into one of the noisiest and most crushing black metal bands in Portland. Recent addition to the band, Jared (SCARD)'s ferocious screams are quite terrifying and complement Bennett's gurgling groans and heavy bass drone. JAMES SQUEAKY

LIGHTWHITE, MOODRING, PAINT & COPTER,

(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) Hey newbies, though you may have just recently stepped into our thriving music scene, keep in mind that neither Rome nor Portland was built in a day and some poor suckers had to build a foundation for this fine sonic habitation. Tonight, my friends, meet your bricklayers. Each and every one of tonight's musicians spent years crafting quirky and progressive sounds long before the spindly fingers of hype deemed our fair city "Indie Town, USA." LightWhite's Phil Cooper and Roy Kettler served as the rhythmic backbone of synthesized kraut pop faves the Sensualists, and are keeping the dream alive with their new Farfisa and drum duo. Paint & Copter, whose recent shows have delivered an exciting synergy of electronics, visuals, and psychoactive guitar swells, are the successors of now extinct space rockers Bering Sea and Fontanelle. Last, but certainly not least, are Moodring, a mesmerizing new offshoot of the ever fabulous Rollerball. JOSH BLANCHARD

JANA HUNTER, EMBROWNLOWE, AUTOPILOT

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) Someday Lounge continues to impress me with their varied and daring booking choices. From full-bore, throat-slashing noise and gothic performance art, to new folk greats like Wooden Wand, Someday has gone from zero to 60 after only being open for what seems like minutes. Tonight's show, then, is a real heart-melter, with Jana Hunter's beautiful, droning, experimental songs weaving some serious magic down on NW 5th. On her great Blank Unstaring Heirs of Doom record, Jana is all hush tones and song fragments and vocal tracks more layered than the Princess and the Pea's mattress stacks. Her voice is a true-blue eagle, soaring above all these rooftops and evergreen trees and brick chimneys, while she sings about the big things we all have beating around in our minds but are too (fill in the blank) to articulate. If you go see any show this week, let it be this one. And don't forget to tell Noah from Someday that he's doing a bang-up job. ADAM GNADE

NEW RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) The New Riders, America's "premier psychedelic cowboy band" share a close parallel lineage with their brothers in arms the Grateful Dead, though they clearly never shared their sister band's notoriety. The group was formed in 1969 around the nucleus of songwriter John "Marmaduke" Dawson and his friend Jerry Garcia, eager to explore the possibilities of his newly acquired pedal steel guitar. While an increasingly busy Garcia left the fold after one album, the group quickly blossomed into a hotshot touring outfit, with a roster that borrowed heavily from the Byrds/Jefferson Airplane/Flying Burritos Brothers stable of sidemen. Their '70s albums, like Powerglide and Gypsy Cowboy, while not exactly mind blowing, hold up as solid artifacts of a bygone country rock era. Much like the Dead or Gram Parson's "cosmic American" die-hard heads shouldn't be deceived by the Riders' "psychedelic" image, but should expect effervescent hippie-Western jam sessions that sound great with a joint or a beer in hand. JB

DAN THE AUTOMATOR, CHALI 2NA, CASUAL, AG, COMMON MARKET

(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) Dan the Automator, beatmaker/producer extraordinaire (Lovage, Handsome Boy Modeling School, Dr. Octagon), has teamed up with some of his favorite emcees for what he's calling a "live mix tape" tour. Given that said emcees include Casual from Hieroglyphics and Jurassic 5's Chali 2na, the odds of this being dope are currently being bet at 42:1. Them's good odds. CB

TUESDAY 12/5

IMOGEN HEAP, KID BEYOND, LEVI WEAVER

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) So, call me a coward or whatever but I was totally scared off by Imogen Heap's name. Imogen... what the hell kinda name is that? And Heap is nothin' but grounds for makin' fun of the lady. But now Imogen's other band, Frou Frou, is doin' super well in the (loooong) wake of the Garden State soundtrack, so I decided to surf on over to her website and check out some jams. But as brave as I was, she totally scared me off again with her sub-Tori Amos, Fiona Apple-flavored confessional pop. Sometimes you can judge a book by its cover! GM

WEDNESDAY 12/6

FEAR FACTORY, SUFFOCATION, HYPOCRISY, DECAPITATED

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Music, pg. 23.

...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD, BLOOD BROTHERS, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, THE CELEBRATION

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Why, just the other day, I was wondering, "Where in the hell did Trail of Dead disappear to?" Okay, that's a lie. I wasn't thinking that, because until I saw this bill, I had forgotten that they ever existed, let alone that they've released two albums since Source Tags and Codes, which is information I discovered while trying to come up with something interesting to say about them. I know, I know—I shouldn't have bothered, not with a co-headliner as ass-shreddingly awesome as the Blood Brothers, who've consistently blown me away ever since I first heard the caged-animal guitar intro to "Ambulance vs. Ambulance." Several years later, their schtick is unchanged—dual screeching vocals over complex junk-rock shredding. But over the two albums since their breakout Burn Piano Island, Burn, the Brothers have managed to branch out their sound, add some needed dynamics, mature a bit, and still retain their sheer irrepressible energy. The new album, Young Machetes, is all punk-Mick Jagger swagger, danceable hi-hat sizzle, and blistering guitar work. The Blood Brothers are why live shows were invented. SCOTT MOORE

SMALL SAILS, MUSEE MECANIQUE,IRETSU

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Small Sails is more than just nice music. They are Santa's right-hand men, on their way to spread cheer, albeit a little early. Formerly known as Adelaide, the fellows in Small Sails have been touring consistently throughout this past year, and are home again with a gift for Portland. Tonight's show is going to be a pre-holiday present, everything you've wanted to be dropped down the chimney all year. You wanted pulsing percussions and haunting rhythmic beauty? It's on its way. You wanted chanting, humming, and catchy la la las to go with your hot cocoa melodies? You're going to get that too. And the icing on your gingerbread house? You got it: live film manipulation with reel-to-reel footage and dual projectors. All the kids on the naughty list are really going to wish that they had behaved themselves. It's not too late, help an old lady across the Fred Meyer parking lot and book it to Doug Fir to get yours. SN

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