THURSDAY 3/12

GREAT NORTHERN, O+S, JARED MEES AND THE GROWN CHILDREN

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!

THE BLAKES, OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN, LITTLE PIECES

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) The Blakes are another band that shamelessly looks back to the days when pop turned into rock, sometime during the 1960s. I'd like to tell you that they're innovative, or exceptionally mind-blowing, or like nothing you've ever heard before. They're not. What they are, however, is good. The Seattle trio writes songs that are varied and assured, with entirely satisfying melodies and confident and assertive musicianship. Sometimes you want to listen to a band that reinvents the wheel, but sometimes you just want to go for a spin. For that, the Blakes'll do just fine. Also on the bill are Portland's Oh Captain My Captain—whose stately, deliberate rock reminds me at times of that criminally underrated band Procol Harum (minus the organ)—and Little Pieces, the current project of Sunset Valley's Herman Jolly. NED LANNAMANN

FRIDAY 3/13

BUCK AND BOUNCE: BEYONDADOUBT, BRICE NICE

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! and review.

PARENTHETICAL GIRLS, NO KIDS, WORLD'S GREATEST GHOSTS

(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) See review.

RED DONS, DRUNKEN BOAT, CLASSICS OF LOVE, MIKE PARK, ANCHOR DOWN, NECKTIES MAKE ME NERVOUS

(The Coop, 3535 N Lombard) As far as DIY punk icons go, Mike Park offers a kinder, gentler version of the rigid ethos formerly established by the likes of Ian MacKaye. His (literally) checkered past as the leader of ska act Skankin' Pickle is more forgivable than the youthful indiscretions of most former rude boys, and a devotion to quality punk recordings for dirt chirp has always been a staple of his Asian Man Records imprint. But a man needs more than just releasing Ben Weasel solo albums, so Park has embarked on yet another solo tour of various DIY show spaces. His solo fare is always adorable—this includes the greatest ever tribute to Bikini Kill, "Tobi Vail Is Amazing"—and Park is proof that growing old in punk rock doesn't need to involve cashing out or soiling your legacy. In short, everyone should be a little more like Mike Park. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

NEW YORK RIFLES, THE FAMILY GUN, SWEET WATER

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Tonight marks the release of New York Rifles' second album, Make a Wish. The Portland quartet refuses to aim high, instead churning out rock tunes that have some of the ragged edges of punk and a faint sheen of hair metal, but remain '60s garage nuggets at heart. "I Know a Girl" is a big, gasoline-tinged rocker that could soundtrack the requisite party scene from any '80s teen sex comedy, and title track "Make a Wish" makes short work of a two-note riff and a one-note melody. Meanwhile, Seattle openers Sweet Water play slightly muddy hard rock that's equal parts British Invasion and '90s-model post-grunge, with singer Adam Czeisler at times achieving a credible Ian Astbury wail. NL

THE PHENOMENAUTS, THE PUNK GROUP, MALDROID

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) Everything about the Phenomenauts, from their awesome, where's-the-comic-book-tie-in name on down to the sci-fi lyrics ("I build you cars/Exploring Mars/Maybe I'm not exactly flesh and bone/I am a robot, leave me alone") reeks of a gimmick. Here's the thing: Science-fiction punkabilly is totally a gimmick—it's Man or Astro-man? face-fucking the Reverend Horton Heat—but the gimmick is fun and the lyrics are clever, and the band is completely tight and pogo-round-the-room ready. What's your fucking problem? PAUL CONSTANT

SATURDAY 3/14

KIM ANN FOXMAN, LINGER AND QUIET, DJ LINOLEUM

(Branx, 320 SE 2nd) Kim Ann Foxman has the unfortunate distinction of being the member of Hercules and Love Affair that's neither the Producer (Andy Butler), the Voice (Antony Hegarty), or the Tranny (Nomi Ruiz). But while Foxman might not be the highest profile member of that band, she's still instrumental to their beguiling sound, lending her own cool and capable voice to such relatively slow-burning but essential tracks as the late-night disco comedown of "Athene" and the buoyant early-morning ballad "Iris." (Also, her hair is a work of art.) Interviews with Foxman indicate that her DJ crates contain classic house, disco, freestyle, "Precious Little Diamond" by Fox the Fox—pretty much exactly what you'd expect from a Hercules muse, and easily up to the heroic labor of moving a Saturday night dance floor. ERIC GRANDY Also see My, What a Busy Week!

SUPERNATURE: COPY, HOOLIGANSHIP, E*ROCK, DJ BJ

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) There's a certain strain of electronic music that's forged an obsessive quest for its lost '80s adolescence. It's not quite a full-blown sub-culture, but you can hear it in Ratatat's ultra-processed metal riffs; covet it in XLR8R's DayGlo fashion spreads; and drink it in with Eric Mast's ADD-inducing video art. Mast (whose brother cofounded Ratatat), as E*Rock, further sharpens this aesthetics' definition by composing music and fashioning remixes with videogame consoles. His distorted synth beeps and compressed beats add up to something not as revolutionary as Super Mario Bros. yet catchier than Crystal Castles. E*Rock's "recherche du temps awesome" brings him to the first anniversary of Supernature, Rotture's monthly night of electro anchored by Copy and DJ BJ. ANDREW STOUT Also see My, What a Busy Week!

KMRIA, THE MINUS 5

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) You don't have to spend Christmas Eve in the drunk tank to know that KMRIA stands for the James Joyce-penned diss, "Kiss My Royal Irish Ass." (Aw, J.J., you should have been a battle rapper.) KMRIA is also the moniker of Portland's all-star tribute to the Pogues, an Irish band known less for their asses than for their sturdy livers and complete lack of teeth. KMRIA's appearances are rare, as they only embark from the faerie fort to squash the attempts of the frat boyos to turn St. Patrick's Day into a holiday doused in green beer and scored by House of Pain. The horror. So do it for Shane MacGowan, Sally MacLennane, your drunken Irish uncle who smelled like cabbage and Jameson, or just for all of those who have so gloriously fallen from grace with god. EAC

PAST LIVES, WHITE CIRCLE CRIME CLUB, VANISHING KIDS, MEGA CHURCH

(East End, 203 SE Grand) When the Blood Brothers split in 2007, one camp formed the fine spazz-pop outfit Jaguar Love. The remaining Blood Brothers (Jordan Blilie, Mark Gajadhar, and Morgan Henderson) joined forces with Devin Welch—who, at one point, was a Blood Brother himself—to form Past Lives, a band that knows the importance of a slow-burning build up to the frantic, white-hot flash the Blood Brothers made famous. Not that Past Lives are subtle; there's wiry guitar riffs, breakneck drumbeats, and high-pitched shrieking aplenty, but there's also a sense that it's reigned in by firm, experienced hands. And when things finally do become untethered, as they inevitably do, the payoff is that much greater. It's too bad the Blood Brothers are gone, but we ended up with two great bands in the bargain—not a bad trade-off at all. NL

PORTUGAL. THE MAN, WE'RE FROM JAPAN, THEMES, DR. HELICOPTER

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) At first, Portugal. The Man's evolution could probably be best credited to a bag of Humboldt greenery. Like an emo band who laid down their diaries and picked up their older brother's bong, theirs was a restless sound unsure of where it properly belonged. But over time, and especially on last year's Censored Colors, the band has vastly expanded on their post-prog intentions and bloomed into a real authentic rock 'n' roll band. Drugs or not—to be fair, it's most likely the former—P.TM is now nestled between the precision of the Mars Volta and the bombastic arrangements of Led Zeppelin. It's a lot to live up to, but they succeed with a carefree ease, proof that despite the lipsticked-pitbull former mayor of their Wasilla hometown, there is still something to be said for Alaska. EAC

TÝR, ALESTROM, SUIDAKRA, DOOMSOWER

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) As though unleashing the plot of cult pagan film The Wicker Man on their own tiny Faroe Islands, folk metal band Týr staged a return of "the old religion" in dramatic, symbolic fashion when they formed in 1998—exactly 999 years after the Christianization of their Northern European homeland in 999 AD. Mixing the technical riffage of emerging-from-death-metal progressive rock (the melodic complexity of Cynic) with the folkish meter and instrumentation of the unhappiest ancients (Moonsorrow being a reference), Týr were born against the grain of an intensely irreligious metal world. But their 2006 Ragnarok stands with the albums of the decade, a giant too sophisticated—and artistically cross-pollinating—to be disregarded for its uncompromising superstition. Openers SuidAkrA challenge assumptions, too, but the Celtic battle metal of new album Crógacht suffers Finntroll-like overproduction, with banjo as loud as Viking-brawl gang vocals. Virgins and farm animals might wish for a more natural follow-up. MIKE MEYER

LOCH LOMOND, THE OLD BELIEVERS, BROTHERS YOUNG

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Tonight, we are young. Or, in the case of more than a few of the performers on this bill, Young. First there are the loose stylings of the Brothers Young, which—with Dustin, Michael, and Dillon Young—brings our collective young count to a total of three. Let's add two more for the duo of the Old Believers, who despite their misleading name, are youth defined, a cuddly and fearless take on bedroom pop music. Then there is Ritchie Young, brother to the three aforementioned Brothers Young, and wee-voiced frontman for the baroque popsters in Loch Lomond. They have a gorgeous new record (Little Me Will Start a Storm, out later this year) of nimble songs set within ambitious arrangements that are sure to make all the young hearts be free tonight, but not in that Rod Stewart sort of way. EAC

...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD, FUNERAL PARTY, MIDNIGHT MASSES

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Holy shit, I just found out that dude from ...Trail of Dead used to be in Mukilteo Fairies! Awesome (and weird). Or did everyone already know that? Oh well, I didn't. In any case, ...Trail of Dead, what have you done for us lately? Well, there were a few years of floptacular albums and embarrassing on- and offstage personal squabbles in the wake of the critically acclaimed Source Tags and Codes, an album which is actually legally impossible to mention without using the word epic. There was that opening slot on a tour with literal cartoon-metal band Dethlok. More recently, there's the band's new album, The Century of Self, which blessedly pares down the orchestral bloat of the band's recent output to make for a fairly rousing record, if not a legally binding epic, with just the right amount of would-be fantasy prog dabbling. Also, when they're in good form live, they really do tear shit apart. EG

SUNDAY 3/15

VON IVA, SEMI-PRECIOUS WEAPONS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Three femmes from San Francisco, Von Iva create rock 'n' soul dance burners that sound comfortingly familiar while they inspire you to sweat off your most recent meal. Singer Jillian Iva's impressive lung power can give the Gossip's Beth Ditto and the Bellrays' Lisa Kekaula a run for their microphones. The definitive Von Iva song is "Do It," with Bex's lasciviously grinding organ riffs triggering the nastiest of thoughts. In fact, Von Iva's music has an omnivorous sexiness that should please all orientations. (Trivia: Von Iva appeared in the Jim Carrey film Yes Man as the fictional band Munchausen by Proxy.) DAVE SEGAL

MONDAY 3/16

PLANTS AND ANIMALS, CHURCH

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See review.

THE HOLD STEADY

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Huh? The Hold Steady are playing a show and you can't buy tickets for it? What, is the world's greatest party band—with affinities for Joe Strummer and Kirby Puckett—too good for your hard-earned money? Yes, because their pockets are already heavily lined courtesy of the event's sponsor, Jack Daniels, which is why tonight's performance is free. That is, if you can still get a ticket. Check out portlandmercury.com, and our music blog, End Hits, for your chance to win a pair, but hurry up, since tickets are almost gone. EAC

TUESDAY 3/17

DARK CASTLE, NANDA DEVI, DUDE LORD, SOD HAULER

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) On the verge of what should be a massive debut album on At a Loss Recordings, Florida's Dark Castle whittle doom down to a duo—guitarist/vocalist Stevie Floyd and multi-instrumentalist drummer Rob Schaffer—and miss nothing but, perhaps, Zoroaster's bells and whistles. Like labelmates Black Cobra, Dark Castle avoid doom's polarizing perils: getting lost in a feeling (and losing the audience) and abandoning the groove (and leaving character). Forthcoming track "Into the Past" is grounded by ye olde four downtuned chords, but Floyd's economic fretboard motions between poundage leave room for oxygen. It's no stairway to Led Zeppelin, though they've covered 'em ("No Quarter"). It's more like the Hindenburg crashing into New Jersey—buoyant yet damned to a fiery, earthen grave. Oh, the humanity. MM

LADY GAGA, WHITE TIE AFFAIR, CHESTER FRENCH, CINEMA BIZARRE

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) I don't understand the Lady GaGa phenomenon. Is it really all Perez Hilton's fault? The man went ga-ga over GaGa—he posts about her every move and fawns over her songs and outfits on a near-daily basis. Honestly, I was already over it before I even heard her. But plastic dresses and giant bows made of hair aside, Lady Gaga is said to be a very talented songwriter—at the age of 20 she started working for Interscope records and has penned tracks for the Pussycat Dolls, Fergie, and even Britney Spears. But thanks to Perez, she's most known for her own work on her 2008 debut dance record The Fame. Maybe we should just be thankful she's writing her own stuff and having fun with it—rather than playing the part of the famewhore puppet like some other pop stars. MEGAN SELING

WEDNESDAY 3/18

PLANTS, PINK WIDOWER, WHITE HINTERLAND

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) Whether last night saw you going out for St. Patrick's Day or staying home and avoiding it like the plague, tonight offers music both soothing and rousing, without any rank amateurism. You'll be able to see the headliners Plants on their home stage—lead Plant, Josh Blanchard, is the booker for the Someday, and a former Mercury contributor—and their slow-growth psychedelia is like a balm for jangled nerves and throbbing heads. The ska-influenced Pink Widower, meanwhile, provides a window of sunlight, with pop-rock that's gentle while remaining danceable. The exploratory songs of White Hinterland's Casey Dienel are strangely comforting; as she puts on various guises (her last release, Luniculaire, was sung entirely in French), there's a warm friendliness to her music even when it's as odd as all get-out. NL