Up & Coming 

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THURSDAY 7/9

PICA'S 14TH BIRTHDAY: STRENGTH, POINT JUNCTURE , WA, LOVERS, DJ GIRLFRIENDS

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

RYLAND BOUCHARD, DRAKKAR SAUNA

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) The title of Drakkar Sauna's 2005 release, Jabraham Lincoln, is a pretty great indication of what they're all about. Take a venerated historical figure of yore (Honest Abe), then add an extra letter to poke a bit of derisive fun. In this spirit, the Midwestern duo shuffles the line between playful and artful, with a joyous hop in their step. Old-timey musical influences are inflected via raspy male harmonies and rusty organs, while their subject matter breaches such diverse content as lewd sex acts and the Bush administration. Marriage Records keeps them coming through town despite no new release to support, which, come on guys, needs to change. MARANDA BISH

FRIDAY 7/10

THE GOURDS, PATTERSON HOOD & THE SCREWTOPIANS

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!

DEAD PREZ, MY-G, MIC CRENSHAW, GEN. ERIK, LUCK-ONE

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Music.

MISS MASSIVE SNOWFLAKE , ROAD RACE, THE NEXTDOOR NEIGHBORS, RAINSTICK COWBELL

(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) See Music.

SKELETONWITCH, SAVIOURS, TRAP THEM, SALVADOR

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) As much as we miss both Cliff Burton and crosses being used as stage props (as with stickers, the puffier the better), today's thrash is infinitely more enjoyable when it doesn't pretend to walk directly off a 1986 Long Island Metallica bootleg. Athens, Ohio's Skeletonwitch dutifully wears the many facets of heavy metal on its gauntlet, taking ye olde thrash on a horseback trot through the fiery worlds of black and power metals. Ditto for Oakland's Saviours, whose Motörhead-nodding proto-metal mixes it up with progressive post-hardcore. MIKE MEYER

TINY VIPERS, DAMIEN JURADO, LAZARUS

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) The preternatural calm of Jesy Fortino's songs is almost heart stopping, and Life on Earth, her second album for Sub Pop under the Tiny Vipers moniker, is eerily placid, like still waters that conceal something sinister beneath. With a gently plucked guitar and a mournful voice that evokes the crisp, coldwater vocals of British folksingers like Anne Briggs or June Tabor, Fortino sings of the fragility of emotions and the desperate need for human contact—standard singer/songwriter fare, but Tiny Vipers songs are gorgeously forlorn, trembling and flickering like candlelight. And in this case, a candle is enough to illuminate a path; with Life on Earth, Fortino sounds more confident than ever, unafraid to confront the aches and shadows and ominous corners of the emotional landscape she charts. NED LANNAMANN

AZURE RAY, WHITE HINTERLAND

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Splitting at the most inopportune moment—following the release of their stellar Hold on Love recording, and shortly after working with Moby (back when he was still relevant, or at least still lingering in the public consciousness)—the return of Azure Ray is a welcome surprise. The duo of Maria Taylor and Orenda Fink were the stable anchor to the Midwest emo theatrics of the Saddle Creek scene. They lacked the gushing diary prose and navel-gazing of their label brethren, instead crafting an opulent and patient sound of intertwined voices that seldom rose above a delicate whisper. With no new record to sling—although one is supposedly in the works—tonight's show will be a warm-up for the duo's welcome return. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

THE MINUS 5, DERBY

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Songwriter/multi-instrumentalist/overachiever Scott McCaughey is just trying to make the rest of us look bad. Not only did his longtime band the Young Fresh Fellows release its umpteenth album I Think This Is a few short days ago (in two configurations, no less, with different tracklistings), but McCaughey's other project, the Minus 5, have released their newest platter simultaneously. Bearing a suspiciously Portland-centric title, Killingsworth is a laidback, unpretentious thicket of country-rock songs dripping with honeyed pedal steel and back porch conviviality. The album cover is a potpourri of snapshots taken around our fair city, and intrepid observers can try to identify all of the locations, including Beulahland, La Bonita, Club 21, Trade Up Music, and the late, lamented Pagoda. In short, Killingsworth is a pantload of fun. NL

THE SUBTERRANEAN HOWL, THE HAND THAT BLEEDS, BUGS OF LIGHTNING

(Kelly's Olympian, 426 SW Washington) Infusing traditional garage rock melodies with gritty electro-punk, the Subterranean Howl have conveniently placed themselves in uncharted Portland music territory. Fronted by Simon Milliman, whose vocals toe the line between Win Butler and Spencer Krug, the band has recently emerged as a formidable ensemble—swiftly changing tone and pace as they deem fit. Like the beat writers from which their name borrows, the Subterranean Howl leave style as an afterthought and spontaneously create music that is both catchy and surprisingly fresh. Openers the Hand that Bleeds echo '80s femme punk (think the Mo-dettes) with a smattering of noise rock and metal drums thrown into the mix (think Danava) as well. PHILIP GAUDETTE

THE COCONUT COOLOUTS, CAFETERIA DANCE FEVER, IMAGINE THE BAND, HEY LOVER

(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) The thing to love about the Coconut Coolouts is that they're always playing. Not as in, they're always playing their instruments; it just feels as though the band is always at play, always having fun. (Naming tracks "Party Jail" and "Shotgun Party" probably help to keep the good times vibe a-comin'.) I don't mean this in a "they're-sure-having-fun-up-there" backhanded slap sort of way; I mean they're always experimenting and pursuing the sound of fun wherever it tries to hide. Rhythmic handclaps? Why not? What sounds like 200 people singing the chorus of a song? Sure! The Coconut Coolouts are scientists in the partiest laboratory on Earth, and they want you to be a guinea pig. Say yes. PAUL CONSTANT

SATURDAY 7/11

MISSISSIPPI STREET FAIR: WEINLAND, MATT SHEEHY, SEI SOUNDS OF SOUL & MORE

(N Mississippi between Fremont & Skidmore) See My, What a Busy Week!

BASTILLE DAY BLOCK PARTY: THE SHAKY HANDS, MIC CRENSHAW, DJ WICKED & MORE

(N Failing between Vancouver & Williams) See My, What a Busy Week!

PRINCE VS. MICHAEL JACKSON: DJ DAVE PAUL, DJ INDICA JONES

(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) See My, What a Busy Week!.

TEARS FOR FEARS, MICHAEL WAINWRIGHT

(Oregon Zoo, 4001 SW Canyon) See Music.

DON HELLIONS, MATTRESS, DINNER + THE MAIN COURSE

(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) See Our Town Could be Your Life.

THE VEILS, FOREIGN BORN, OTHER GIRLS

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Simply put: You want to fuck the very life out of the Veils. My apologies for the horrific cliché of putting physical looks ahead of artistic expression; it's cheap, it's shallow, and ultimately it lessens their wondrous creative output. That said, I still stand by my opening statement. Ultra fuckability aside, the London—via Auckland, New Zealand—outfit, fronted by the decadently voiced Finn Andrews, specializes in a rarified breed of heavily stylized rock music that orbits around Andrews' effeminate croon and the band's ambitious song structure. They might veer towards the bombastic, but credit Andrews' clever songwriting for reeling things in and never allowing the band to get too self-obsessed. After tonight, you'll need the coldest of showers, but it'll be worth it. EAC

PTERODACTYL, SUBARACHNOID SPACE, AERIAL RUIN, DUDE LORD, DJ NATE C

(East End, 203 SE Grand) Pterodactyl's brilliant 2007 self-titled release went largely unnoticed, which is a shame; the album was a sugar rush of sonic bombardment and dissonant guitar wailing, with drumming that could rival Lightning Bolt's Brian Chippendale. On their second release, Worldwild, they trade in the explosive math rock for something more akin to Animal Collective, occasionally slowing the tempo down and incorporating ambient keyboard moments. Although straying to folk somewhat undermines the group's aptitude, it's allowed them to experiment with sound and style in a new direction. They're still frantically loud and technical; they've just matured a bit. PG

WAMPIRE, DEELAY CEELAY, MAY LING, ROB WALMART, E*ROCK

(Worksound, 820 SE Alder) We all know that CDs can suck it, but cassettes? Wampire is the latest to hop on the magnetic tape bandwagon— Dirty Projectors' opus Bitte Orca was also recently given a cassette release—with their self-titled debut seeing the light of day on this outdated, yet ironically cool, medium. All of us who updated our audio platforms in the early '90s shouldn't fret: Tonight's admission will include Wampire's recording in both cassette and digital download formats. (You can use the tape as a paperweight—that is, unless you're already using your CDs for that purpose.) Wampire's music is a shimmering, vivacious take on bouncy pop—a restrained Starfucker, a muted Deelay Ceelay electro rainbow—complete with a lyric that pretty much sums up their mission as a band: "It's so fun to be so goddamn young." EAC

SUNDAY 7/12

THE BUILDERS & THE BUTCHERS

(Everyday Music, 1931 NE Sandy) See My, What a Busy Week!

JESSICA LEA MAYFIELD

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Every time I listen to Jessica Lea Mayfield's debut record, With Blasphemy So Heartfelt, I'm blown away. It's just one of those records that doesn't get old. Mayfield—not yet 20 years old—is already a master songwriter, writing simple but potent songs that inspire music writers to say boneheaded things like "mature beyond her years." But that's missing the point altogether: Mayfield's slow, folky bluegrass-in-the-echo-chamber perfectly captures the wild, romantic sensation of being a teenager, of being an age when emotions and searching for love occupied one's entire being. It's that shifting, rumbling time of one's life that pop music attempts to recapture with every note, and Mayfield's music resides right on the fault line. NL

INDIAN JEWELRY, PSYCHIC ILLS, PLANTS

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Tonight, skip the drugs. The combination of Indian Jewelry and Psychic Ills will be enough to pull anyone onto another plane of existence. Hailing from New York, Psychic Ills keep it on the mellow side of the experimental spectrum, tossing in some ethereal synthesizers for good measure. Indian Jewelry employs a mixture of sinister psychedelic beats and otherworldly glam, which is then combined with seizure-inducing lights and a plethora of visual tidbits. What audiences are left with could be likened to a really bad acid trip put to music. (And by "bad," I mean incredibly awesome and thoroughly overwhelming.) THEODORA KARATZAS

MONDAY 7/13

DAVE LIEBERMAN BENEFIT: THE FAST TAKERS , THE BLOODIES, DJ NATE C, URIAH CREEP

(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) The most important man at Tube, doorman Dave Lieberman—if it weren't for him, there would be kids ruining that place for the rest of us—is still recovering from a traumatic leg injury suffered in a bike wreck. Like most folks in the service industry, Lieberman is without insurance and has the stack of bills to prove it. Tonight's benefit show features an earful of ferocious dirty rockers the Bloodies, plus you can open your change purse and bid on all sorts of odd auction items. This includes a private party at Tube, records, tattoos, and the greatest auction item ever: The men of Tube mowing your lawn, or cleaning your house, while shirtless. Now who wouldn't want that? EAC

THE PHARMACY, JACK LEWIS & THE TWIGS, DON HELLIONS

(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) Since leaving Seattle for New Orleans last year, the charmingly messy psych-pop-punk band the Pharmacy have, as they usually do, gotten into some shenanigans (this is the band that has been arrested, broken down and stranded, and injured on tour multiple times). For example: Singer Scott Yoder is still recovering from hand surgery. "I severed the tendon in my pinkie while butchering swine at my job," he says. "I had surgery just a couple weeks ago to harvest tendon from my wrist. It was an eight-hour procedure!" Cuff 'em, cut 'em, move 'em across the country—the Pharmacy will never stop. MEGAN SELING Also see Our Town Could be Your Life.

 

TUESDAY 7/14

SARA LOV, ALL SMILES, GAVIN CASTLETON

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Jason Lytle might get all the attention, but what about our friend Jim Fairchild? I mean, this guy writes incredibly catchy pop songs too. The former Grandaddy guitarist—and current Johnny Marr replacement in Modest Mouse—has been recording under the moniker All Smiles for a few years now and just released his second record, Oh for the Getting and Not Letting Go, a crisply recorded affair loaded with oohs, aahs, and subtle nods to the Beatles. Singer/songwriter and former Devics vocalist Sara Lov is getting plenty of attention herself and will add her own dream-pop allure to the evening. MARK LORE

WEDNESDAY 7/15

CAGE, YAK BALLZ, DEBASER, ONRY OZZBORN & THE GIGANTICS

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) See Music.

CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE, CRYPTACIZE, THE RIGHTEOUS & HARMONIOUS FISTS

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Kip Berman (of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart) isn't the only former Mercury music intern that has coasted to greatness—or at least a respectable Pitchfork review—on this paper's gilded coattails; there's Owen Ashworth as well. Ashworth, the voice behind Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, has been churning out charming indie pop songs since long before this here rag started harvesting Portland's musical community for unpaid labor. Prolific enough to support a pair of releases—a new LP, Vs. Children, plus the singles compilation Advance Base Battery Life—Ashworth is an unheralded performer whose stylized just-woke-up vocal delivery meshes perfectly with his charismatic songwriting skills. I'd write more about the joys of Casiotone, but I need to get the next big indie star to pick up my dry cleaning. EAC Also see My, What a Busy Week!

MEN, BOYJOY

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Consisting of Le Tigre, sans Kathleen Hanna—who I pray is off making a sequel to that Julie Ruin record—MEN pick up where the previous dance outfit of Johanna Fateman and (mustached calendar superstar) JD Samson left off. Well, to be fair, the limited music offered by MEN has so far easily exceeded anything Le Tigre phoned in for This Island, their dreadful major label catastrophe. So they're off to a great start. Not heavy on substance—despite press material boasting of lyrics focused on "issues such as wartime economies, sexual compromise, and demanding liberties"—MEN are devoted dance floor enthusiasts, so you have no excuse to prop up the wall or do "The Stand Still" tonight. EAC

WOLVES IN THE THRONE ROOM, MINSK, NINTH MOON BLACK

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) By the time Mount St. Helens erupted on May 18, 1980, with the force of six atomic bombs, decimating 230 square miles of forest, and sending clouds and collectible vials of ash across the nation, she had been quaking for 53 days. The volcanic eruption of "Ex Cathedra," the third track on Wolves in the Throne Room's astonishing new CD, Black Cascade, unfolds similarly. Rainfall, midtempo sweep, a lovelorn narrator's desperate howl, and rumbling post-punk synthesizers—never more organic to these ears—tangibly foreshadow the type of summit-blowing energy one could expect from hateful orthodox black metal (e.g., Burzum, pre-Assassins Nachtmystium). When the reawakening is complete and the Wolves' fangs are bared, one can't help but revere the pure strength in his or her path. MM

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