THURSDAY 9/17

FRIGHTENED RABBIT, THE TWILIGHT SAD, WE WERE PROMISED JETPACKS, ARCHEOLOGY

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

THE HELIO SEQUENCE, DR. DOG

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

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART, THE DEPRECIATION GUILD, CYMBALS EAT GUITARS, THE MINT CHICKS

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Higher than the Stars, the new EP from the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, proves that the indie-sphere's fawning and falling all over itself earlier this year was the correct reaction. (Hey, sometimes they get it right.) Building and expanding on the sound of their flawless self-titled debut album, Higher than the Stars is a more than worthy follow-up, and all the more enjoyable for its brevity. The title track is a cotton-spun pop delight, while "103" layers heavy My Bloody Valentine fuzz over a twinkling, meadow-gamboling pop melody. "Falling Over," meanwhile, delves into the bleary-eyed New Romantic sound the band has been hinting at for a while, and "Twins" rounds out the EP with a bit of rock muscle. The New York band's unfussy live show has been steadily improving over the past year, with frontman (and former Portlander) Kip Berman rightly letting the songs speak for themselves. NED LANNAMANN

EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY, ELUVIUM

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) My first introduction to Explosions in the Sky was a recorded performance on YouTube about four years ago. In the video, the band stands nonchalantly in a Chicago record store, casually introducing themselves before jumping into "Yasmin the Light." At about the two-minute mark the drums fire up, shaking the store and shattering the camera's mic. Ever since that very moment I have not been able to shake the subtle tension and sheer vivacity of this Austin band, who chaotically piece a mess into an organized masterpiece. Sure, they might be the everyman's instrumental post-rock band, and yeah, they could probably do the score for your indie guerilla war movie. But Explosions in the Sky, now 10 years old, will captivate you, even if it's because they can methodically rock a record store into shambles. PHILIP GAUDETTE

GIRL TALK, BROTHER READE, GUIDANCE COUNSELOR

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Mash-ups have seen their day. The foolproof template—take a wistful hook, add some rap lyrics, lay it all on top of a pumped-up dance-floor beat—has been so overdone that a backlash has emerged from within the electronic music community, complete with its own "no mash-up" sticker. Yet Girl Talk (Gregg Gillis) is still at it, keeping an otherwise passé genre compelling after all these years. Gillis differs from other producers by limiting his samples to very brief clips. Sure, it's easy to drop a memorable Ace of Bass (or Journey) hook, but rather than relying on the familiarity of the sample itself, Gillis stitches together bits and pieces at a dizzying pace and adds in unique glitches and snap transitions that keep you wondering what'll come next. AVA HEGEDUS

FRIDAY 9/18

SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE, THE JEALOUS SOUND

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

ARCTIC MONKEYS, THE LIKE

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) The initial appeal of Sheffield, UK, band Arctic Monkeys, if I'm recalling the mid-aughts correctly, was meant to be their immediacy, not only in the sense of their rapid, file-sharing-fueled rise from obscurity to top of the pops, but also in the twitchy tempo, brash guitars, and hormonally charged attitude of their breakout single, "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor." So it's odd catching up with them a few years later, having paid scant attention to their sophomore album or side projects since, to find them markedly mellowed on their new full-length, Humbug. The Josh Homme-produced album is slower, darker, and almost lethargically lurching compared to the band's earlier albums; nothing really makes a racket or a sudden move until nine tracks in, with the smash-and-grab verses of "Pretty Visitors." The overall effect is a little like Franz Ferdinand at their most languidly lecherous—a not entirely bad thing. ERIC GRANDY

BAD BRAINS, MONOTONIX, P.O.S., BLACK EYES AND NECKTIES

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) I love Bad Brains, but I can't get over their infamous homophobic tune "Don't Blow Bubbles," which mars an otherwise perfect album, Quickness. True, Rastafarianism, as with Islam and much of Christianity, scorns homosexuality. But Bad Brains were less Rastas and more musical revolutionaries. The band was something utterly new, something never seen or heard before: four black Americans detonating reggae philosophy and social criticism with the raw power of punk. "I Against I," "Return to Heaven" "Destroy Babylon"—how could such an innovative band be so backward on homosexuality? Without this flaw, Bad Brains easily could have been the greatest thing to happen to rock in the last 20 years of the 20th century. CHARLES MUDEDE

PINK MOUNTAINTOPS, NURSES, THE PACK A.D., SCOUT NIBLETT

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) It's a safe assumption that the handful of loyal attendees at Jerk with a Bomb's 2002 show at Northeast house venue Fast Forward had no clue that Stephen McBean would go on to lead a pair of rock music's most intriguing acts in the coming years. Well, at least, I certainly did not. McBean no longer performs in basements; instead, he fronts Black Mountain, that majestic peak of stoner rock, as well as the more pop-oriented Pink Mountaintops, whose latest, Outside Love, is a slight departure from the band's earliest days—basically, there are less songs about fucking—but the trade-off is a more orchestral recording that highlights McBean's seemingly endless array of musical gifts. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

CHAIRLIFT, EXPLODE INTO COLORS, THE PRIDS, YOURSELF AND THE AIR

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) It's a problem that plagues countless dual-vocalist male-female bands: The exquisitely voiced female singer—in this case, Chairlift keyboardist/vocalist Caroline Polachek—takes the reins for most of the songs, but every now and then, the dude—guitarist Aaron Pfenning—has to chime in for a few lines. It's only fair, right? After all, he co-wrote the songs.... But when a band is lucky enough to have a talent like Polachek handling the mic, there is no reason in the world we should be hearing anything other than her. Yet there he is, mumbling a verse about strawberries on the buoyant "Bruises" or needlessly echoing Polachek's chorus on "Evident Utensil." Fortunately, the synth-dappled pop songs on the New York band's debut, Does You Inspire You, are generally strong enough to withstand these flaws, and Polachek's remarkable presence—not to mention her progressive fashion sense—is becoming more assertive with every show. NL

JAPANTHER, TYPHOON, REPORTER, LAKE, SOUTHERN BELLE

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) The New York duo Japanther—Ian Vanek and Matt Reilly—emerged in 2001, when spastic noise rock wasn't entirely new, but certainly not as crazy as it had the potential to be. Still touring on the fuzzy bass guitar and drums of Tut Tut Now Shake Ya Butt, Japanther will offer up the most enjoyable moshing experience you'll have all year. Opening is local armada Typhoon, who haven't played a live show in about a year (last week's Mikrofest doesn't count, I'm told). The eight-plus-member ensemble perform dynamic, bold, and yes, epic rock on the grandest of scales. PG

SATURDAY 9/19

SHINE A LIGHT: ATOLE, TU FAWNING, E*ROCK, & MORE

(Portland Art Museum, 1219 SW Park) See My, What a Busy Week.

BLIND PILOT, THE BUILDERS AND THE BUTCHERS, LANGHORNE SLIM, RICHARD SWIFT, AUSTIN LUCAS

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

OM, GROUPER, LICHENS, LORDS OF FALCONRY

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music.

JD TWITCH, DJ BEYONDA, LINGER AND QUIET

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music.

FUCKED UP, THE BRONX, MARIACHI EL BRONX

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Fucked Up is a beast with coarse hair and gnarling fangs. Yet the Canadian six-piece was not born without a strangely soft, pink underbelly. Nestled in the midst of chugging, aggressive marches are moments of fleeting beauty. Shit, their fabulous Matador debut, The Chemistry of Modern Life, features bongos, a flute, and even a swirling instrumental interlude. The single "Black Albino Bones" recalls an early Les Savy Fav, and when the little indie kids take over backing vocals from menacing lead shouter Pink Eyes, things get downright pretty. Backed with three guitars, the electrified wall is enormous, but make no mistake: Despite their flourishes, Fucked Up are not genre breakers. They take classic punk and shine it with a few layers of fine gloss. The devotion to heavy roots, however, ensures the sweaty catharsis of a hardcore circle pit. So do like Pink Eyes screams and "push yourselves together 'til the magic comes out!" ANDREW R TONRY

THE GET UP KIDS, PORTUGAL. THE MAN, YOUTH GROUP, PRETTY AND NICE

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Let the emo nostalgia continue! But while Sunny Day Real Estate's second—er, third—coming was welcomed with a quick run on the box office, the Get Up Kids reunited to considerably less fanfare. Perhaps it's their thinning hair and expanded waistlines that remind us all that these Kids are hardly the baby-faced pinups of Midwest emo any longer, and all those gushing "Oh Amy, don't hate me" teenage love songs just don't sound the same this time around. But if the past is bringing you down worse than listening to Guilt Show, take solace in openers Portugal. The Man. The local/Alaska act is constantly dismantling and reassembling the parameters of rock 'n' roll, ending up with a sound that is both endlessly appealing and absolutely baffling. EAC

TITUS ANDRONICUS, PANTHER, THE SO SO GLOS, DRUG RUG, WORLD'S GREATEST GHOSTS

(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) Not a dull moment on this bill. World's Greatest Ghosts are about to finally unleash their debut album this fall, and it's a scorcher. Like Los Campesinos!, the Portland band's epic pop-rock achieves an architectural grandeur that never betrays its addled energy. Meanwhile, Drug Rug followed up their splendidly ramshackle debut with this year's Paint the Fence Invisible, a joyfully inexact blend of '60s garage rock, Rumours-era Fleetwood Mac, and Old, Weird America fucked-up blues. The So So Glos are a bunch of brothers from New York whose carefully calculated knife-edge punk-whine always exhilarates, even as it is poached intact from Clash and early Beatles records. Panther's live shows never disappoint, and Titus Andronicus marries Jersey-bred backseat romanticism with snot-faced basement party oblivion. It's a regal mess in the best sense. Tonight will be full of big gestures and high hopes, with the very real possibility of transcendence and just as much likelihood of ending up crushed in the gutter. NL

BLADEN COUNTY SHOWCASE: THE LOVE LANGUAGE, THE LIGHT PINES, MONEYBROTHER, ANDERS PARKER & MORE

(Rontoms, 600 E Burnside) Sure, you can lazily trot out a few bands and then hoist up the banner of "label showcase," but such underachieving does not appeal to the boys of Bladen County. They have 16—yes, 16—bands performing at their all-day showcase, including a few acts not even on their label; in the rough and tumble world of record labels this is akin to taking someone else's best girl to the winter formal dance. Easily the best of the bunch is North Carolina's wondrous pop-makers the Love Language, who effortlessly won over a crowded Doug Fir audience the last time they passed through town. EAC

BEACH HOUSE, JOHN VANDERSLICE, THE MORNING BENDERS, AVI BUFFALO, THE BRUNETTES

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Baltimore duo Beach House recently recorded their third album, and follow-up to 2008's quietly conquering Devotion, in upstate New York at a place called Dreamland Studios, which sounds perfectly matched to the band's brand of sweet-dreaming, sleepwalking pop. The band will release the as-yet-untitled album early next year on mega-indie label Sub Pop; between now and then they'll be hitting the road to debut the new material on a fall tour with Grizzly Bear. They come to town sans Bear but with California's Avi Buffalo and his band, who make gently twangy, soft-rocking folk distinguished by Buffalo's ever-so-slightly braying singing voice. EG

DILLINGER FOUR, RIVERBOAT GAMBLERS, THE ARRIVALS, DEFECT DEFECT

(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) While drinking in (and running) bars has dulled the brilliant sheen of Minneapolis' Dillinger Four, the unfuckwithable punk act picks up right where they left off with last year's Civil War. The legend of Dillinger Four was long ago cemented with ridiculous live performances, bear-friendly onstage nudity courtesy of the well-fed physique of bassist Patrick ("Paddy") Costello, and a run of recordings that never dropped off over time. If anything, Dillinger Four have been cultivating a rabid fanbase that will fight to the very death to convince you that Twin Cities punk rock did not die off when the 'Mats and Hüsker Dü called it quits. The title of the band's late-'90s single compilations was dead on: This Shit Is Genius. EAC

TEAM DRESCH, ERASE ERRATA, LOVERS, FORSORCERERS

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) After an eight-year hiatus, legendary queercore punk band Team Dresch reunited in 2004—their reunion show at, appropriately enough, Olympia's Homo a Go Go festival. The band's songs are veritable time capsules, crammed with the reckless giddiness and rage of the early '90s riot grrrl scene­ (though by all accounts they've only improved since they originally parted ways). Kaia Wilson's confessional vocals freewheel from angry to angsty to downright hyper, bolstered by jumpy bass lines courtesy of Chainsaw Records head Donna Dresch, and riffs from guitarist Jody Bleyle, formerly of Hazel. Their 1996 album Personal Best is a punk rock classic, and here's hoping we'll hear a few tracks at tonight's show, but the band's reportedly working on new material as well, making Team Dresch one of the few bands in their scene to continue into the new millennium. ALISON HALLETT

SUNDAY 9/20

MODEST MOUSE, LOVE AS LAUGHTER, MIMICKING BIRDS, MORNING TELEPORTATION

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

MARK EITZEL, TIMBER TIMBRE

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Just in time to herald fall's gloomy, soggy onslaught, Mark Eitzel's in town to play American Music Club songs. Eitzel's shows are beautiful and emotive and charming, filled with the bearded sadman's stories about whatever strikes his fancy (Columbus, Ohio, the World Trade Center, AIDS, bars) and some hugely affecting singing/songwriting. Hopefully Eitzel's merch table will include his new solo album Klamath. He's set to release the album as a limited, signed run of 500 on his website—so if you see it, snag it. Here's also hoping the restless stranger plays anything from AMC's Everclear or Mercury or... who am I kidding? They're all good—play what you want, Mark. COURTNEY FERGUSON

MONDAY 9/21

LANGHORNE SLIM

(Music Millennium, 3158 E Burnside) See Music.

MODEST MOUSE, LOVE AS LAUGHTER

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

HOPE SANDOVAL AND THE WARM INVENTIONS, DIRT BLUE GENE

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Hope Sandoval makes lassitude sound incredibly sensual. When she fronted Mazzy Star, she cast a languid spell with creamily soft deadpan vocals that oozed over David Roback's maroon, paisley-patterned psychedelia. Now fronting her own group with My Bloody Valentine drummer Colm Ó Cíosóig in tow, Sandoval takes an earthier, folkier approach. Her voice quavers intimately as the duo creates spare, spectral songs that induce a sweet-tuned calmness with just enough tension to avoid milquetoasty tedium. Sandoval and the Warm Inventions are supporting their new album, Through the Devil Softly, which doesn't depart much from their exquisitely hushed debut, Bavarian Fruit Bread. DAVE SEGAL Also see My, What a Busy Week.

SEA WOLF, CHURCH, SARA LOV

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) To write songs for Sea Wolf's latest, White Water, White Bloom, songwriter Alex Brown Church went to Montreal to hang out with his girlfriend in her tiny apartment by the river. This cozy arrangement resulted in a series of awfully ponderous, melancholy songs, each based around the theme of the changing of the seasons. The results are never unpleasant, but are enormously unsubtle. At its best, the record sounds like Bright Eyes' most bombastic moments, and at its blandest, it's parked in the shadow of Coldplay's armada of tour buses. Meanwhile, the songs of former Devics frontwoman Sara Lov are surprisingly placid considering her turbulent background. (It's probably inappropriate to make too much of it, but as a child she was kidnapped by her father to live in Israel for 10 years.) The songs on Lov's latest, Seasoned Eyes Were Beaming, are gentle LA singer/songwriter fare of the Hotel Café variety, never discordant or angry or displaced. To give you some idea, its wooziest moment comes during a faithful cover of Simon and Garfunkel's "Old Friends." NL

TUESDAY 9/22

LIZZ WRIGHT, SONOS

(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) See My, What a Busy Week.

THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM, MURDER BY DEATH, THE LOVED ONES, FRANK TURNER

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week, Music.

MODEST MOUSE, MORNING TELEPORTATION

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

MEAT PUPPETS, DEAD CONFEDERATE, UME

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Detroit 1985: Meat Puppets are touring behind the immortal Up on the Sun LP. The band tear into "Split Myself in Two" with terrifying speed. At one point, guitarist Curt Kirkwood shakes his head back and forth so fast while riffing that he appears to have two heads, thereby manifesting the song title's organizing principle. It was one of the most amazing spectacles I've ever seen. Sadly, inevitably, Meat Puppets no longer harness that sort of fleet fury. Their early albums of fierce country punk, Leo Kottke-on-meth folk, and serpentine psych rock eventually gave way to ZZ Top-like boogie ordinaire. As rock comeback efforts go, Meat Puppets are no Mission of Burma, Slint, or Polvo. DS

WEDNESDAY 9/23

MODEST MOUSE, MIMICKING BIRDS

(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See Music.

DJ VADIM, EMANCIPATOR, DJ OBE

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) DJ Vadim has been producing music for almost two decades now and part of what keeps his sound fresh is an ability to incorporate a wide variety of different styles without becoming derivative or too far flung. Born in Russia, raised in London, Vadim has lived in New York, Port au Prince, and Kingston, so it makes sense that the man has divergent inspiration. Often lumped in the hiphop camp, Vadim is not afraid to employ soul, downtempo, electro, and the energy of reggae. His latest album U Can't Lurn Imaginashun draws heavily on the Jamaican sound, and nearly every track is a collaborative effort. Working with sassy vocalists Yarah Bravo and Sabira Jade, plus up-and-coming producers like Juice Lee, Vadim makes this latest album a mirror of his entire career—a diverse but cohesive mixed bag. AVA

GRAND ARCHIVES, THE MOST SERENE REPUBLIC

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Perhaps to offset the blandness of their band's name, Grand Archives have elected to tag their sophomore effort with the baffling title Keep in Mind Frankenstein. By all reports, it was originally to be a heavier-rocking collection of songs than their wispy debut, but the band was unhappy with the results. "It sounded kind of... like guys who don't really play rock music trying to rock out," says frontman Mat Brooke, who formed Grand Archives after quitting Band of Horses. So the group kept things nice and gentle—to fine effect on the country-ish "Oslo Novelist," or the climbing melody of "Dig that Crazy Grave," or the lazy summer's day vibe of "Left for All the Strays." The rest of Frankenstein fails to make as much of an impression, but keeping things laidback 'n' easy seems the best way forward for Grand Archives, as evidenced by their low-key live show. NL

INSANE CLOWN POSSE, (HED) PE, THE DAYTON FAMILY, KNOTHEAD

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Juggalos need love too. That is why a truly down-with-the-clown entrepreneur launched the dating site Juggalove (juggalove.com), which is basically eHarmony for the Faygo-and-hatchet set. Granted, choice Juggalettes are few and far between in this barren landscape of face-painted lonely single men, but just the mere concept that two single people with a shared interest in terrible clown rap can find each other in this vast and cruel world is truly heartwarming. And ladies, if you are looking for that special someone who has the masculine edge of Violent J, yet the sensitive charm of Shaggy 2 Dope, might we suggest the panty-dropping good looks of Juggalove member "Huggalo." We're serious. EAC