RE: "New Money" [Feature, Dec 18, 2013], an overview of the virtual currency bitcoin by author Robert Ham.

DEAR MERCURY—In your article on bitcoin, the author makes one very glaring mistake, [that] I believe may harm future adoption of bitcoin and lead people to believe it is safer than it really is. Regarding the nature of bitcoin, he stated, "Bitcoins are a currency that's nearly impossible to steal or spend if stolen—each one carries a long string of cryptographic letters and numbers that provides both its value and information about its owner." Certainly bitcoin addresses are unique, and the owner of each address can publicly claim ownership, however that does little to protect it against theft. Ownership of bitcoin, like cash, is with possession. There have been many high-profile thefts since the beginning of bitcoin, [and] these digital heists continue to this day. Besides this error, the entire article is a well-written, fair assessment of bitcoin.

Mortal Chang

RE: Letters [Dec 25, 2013], a roundup of 2013's best letters to the editor, including a poem by Todd Mecklem early in the year regarding the relocation of eccentric software mogul John McAfee to Portland. Here, an update.

Portlandia and Grimm? Hot beyond reason.

The Blazers? Having an amazing season.

Hipsters heartily hipping, geezers geezin',

And shoppers filling every thriving mall.

But o'er the city there's been cast a pall.

John McAfee's flown off to Montreal.

Todd Mecklem

RE: What goes through the mind of a drunken person in the Pearl District? Rude dampening in cold weather? Soap... ?

DEAR MERCURY—I was just wondering, do the folks in the Pearl pay the street sweepers to put Pine-Sol in their water mixture? I was at Blitz not too long ago and was sure I saw someone pouring soapy water on a homeless gentleman.

Another Drunk Love Note

RE: TriMet's free and freewheeling New Year's Eve services.

DEAR MERCURY—Jersey transplant to Portland. Been here 11 days. Call me a freshman, but what the hell's up with the West Coast "whatever man" vibe of late-night TriMet? Advertised in the Mercury, "Celebrate New Year's Eve safely. Ride free 8 pm to end of service." Thought we could actually use the public trans for safety to go home. We were stranded at 12:45 am with "no buses running" in a close-in area. Think TriMet could have had better New Year's support, since they were advertising it and all?

L

RE: "Things Not Invited Back to 2014" [Feature, Jan 1], in which author Alex Falcone lists the things he'd like to see banished in 2014 (like the Bi-Mart country music festival), accompanied by an illustration of mustachioed folks doing many of said uninvited things.

Alex, I notice the cartoons have mustaches on all of them, but mustaches are not not invited back for 2014. WTF.

posted by I'mrightyourwrong

All pretty funny, but why is the country music festival terrible? You fucking elitist hipster...

posted by Joe Sixpack

As somebody who developed a taste for REAL bluegrass and "alt" country later in life, I can assure each and every one of you that the Bi-Mart festival is not authentic old-time or country music in any sense of the word—it's Clear Channel Southern rock. Burn that shit and go to String Summit.

posted by taiganaut

RE: "Reality Check 2013" [Last Supper, Dec 25, 2013], Food Editor Chris Onstad's annual roundup of the eating establishments where he spends his own, un-reimbursed money.

So I went to Expatriate. And I had a sort of mind-blowing experience that I couldn't quite put into words, so I went again a few days later. I loved it all over again. You put my feelings into words. Hot damn, I feel so good in that place. Hot damn.

posted by T.W.

HOT DAMN, T.W., we love it, too—the artfully melting candles, perfect cocktails, the shrimp toast—but it's not the only place we love. We're giving you this week's letter of the week, with two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater, where pizza, brew, and a good flick suits a body just fine, too.

THEATER is different in Ireland.

The small country has produced a disproportionate number of influential playwrights, from Samuel Beckett and Oscar Wilde to Conor McPherson and Martin McDonagh. And compared to the US, "There's more awareness of and engagement with theater," explains Win Goodbody, co-founder of corrib theatre, Portland's Ireland-centric theater collective. "You could be waiting in line at the post office and get in a conversation about a playwright. The audience is pretty deep, and it's definitely healthy in terms of young people."

Goodbody has been involved in Portland's theater world for years, as board president at CoHo Productions and more recently as the writer and photographer behind Portland Theatre Scene (portlandtheatrescene.com), a site devoted to reviews and listings.

In 2012 he took a sabbatical from his job as a software designer to spend six months studying theater at Ireland's Trinity College, seeing shows in Dublin and Belfast, and Galway. "When I went over there, all these names of contemporary playwrights kept coming up," Goodbody says, "and [I realized] how few of the actual repertoire of writers I actually knew."

When he returned to Portland, he joined forces with director/Ireland native Gemma Whelan to found corrib theatre, a collective dedicated to sharing and promoting the work of those playwrights—names like Jimmy Murphy and Marie Jones that are well known in Ireland, but unlikely to be familiar in the US.

Corrib's first fully staged production, McPherson's one-man show St. Nicholas last March, drew rave reviews and packed houses. Their second season kicks off this week with a staged reading of Sebastian Barry's Tales of Ballycumber, to be followed in February with a full production of the soccer-themed A Night in November, starring Third Rail's Damon Kupper.

Goodbody says corrib has found an audience both in the theater-going scene and among Portlanders with cultural ties to Ireland. He hopes to crack the Timbers fanbase with A Night in November—he even went so far as to explore the possibility of staging it at Jeld-Wen. (It'll be at Kell's instead.)

"The interest and turnout at our events surprised us," says Goodbody. "I think in hindsight there was an audience there waiting to be activated. [Irish theater] is one of those brands that's strong on its own.

"I'm driven to try to create the types of experiences that I would seek out," he explains. "Ireland exports writers, both literally and figuratively. Seeing a play there in the midst of this incredibly engaged audience, it's just a different type of experience. We'll do our best to replicate it here."

August: Osage County
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

Cinescopio
A new series showcasing "Latin American classic cinema from the golden era of film." This installment features the 1972 lucha libre film Santo vs. the Mummies of Guanajuato, which sounds pretty great. More at hollywoodtheatre.org. Hollywood Theatre.

Evangelion: 3.0 You Can (Not) Redo
The latest episode of the endless Evangelion anime series. Hollywood Theatre.

Getting to Know YouTube
Local presenters fire up YouTube and explore "the boundaries of what tubes and you were meant for." Hollywood Theatre.

Hecklevision: Cool As Ice
Vanilla Ice's non-classic, now with your text-messaged heckles popping up onscreen. Sorry, Vanilla Ice. Hollywood Theatre.

Her
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

In No Great Hurry: 13 Life Lessons with Saul Leiter
A documentary about photographer Saul Leiter "as he deals with he triple burden of clearing an apartment full of memories, becoming world famous in his 80s, and fending off a pesky filmmaker." Clinton Street Theater.

International House
WC Fields, George Burns and Cab Calloway's 1933 comedy, followed by 1934's Thirty Day Princess. Screens as part of the NW Film Center's Treasures from the UCLA Film & Television Archive series; more at nwfilm.org. Whitsell Auditorium.

The Jerk
Remember when Steve Martin was funny? Yeah, I know, it's been a long time—before most of us were alive, I'm thinkin'. But when he was on, the guy was unstoppable. In 1979's The Jerk, he plays Navin R. Johnson, a huge moron that was "born a poor black child." Only he's white—incredibly so. It's dead-on hilarious slapstick, social commentary, and—most of all—shows Martin's comic skills chopping like a damn Ginzu knife. Just lava-hot funny. Insert cliché about the mighty falling here. ADAM GNADE Academy Theater.

Kung Fu Theater
A 35mm print of the 1981 kung fu classic Shaolin vs. Wu Tang, in which (you guessed it) students of the Shaolin style face off with students of the Wu-Tang style. Wu-Tang is for the children. Hollywood Theatre.

La Camioneta: The Journey of One American School Bus
Every year, school districts in the United States dump—essentially for nothing—perfectly good yellow school buses. But the lucky ones go on to live glorious, tropical, and occasionally sordid second acts, shined up and pressed into service as public transportation in Central America. Mark Kendall follows a single bus from its sale in Pennsylvania to earnest Guatemalan entrepreneurs; by the time we see it lovingly and artfully resurrected in bright colors as a camioneta, we've also been introduced to the dangerous world of corruption, extortion, and murder that goes hand in hand with the transformation. DENIS C. THERIAULT Whitsell Auditorium.

The Legend of Hercules
The latest from Renny Harlin (Cliffhanger, Die Hard 2, The Long Kiss Goodnight). Not screened for critics. Various Theaters.

Lone Survivor
See review this issue. Various Theaters.

Mantrap
The 1926 comedy, followed by 1928's Midnight Madness. Screens as part of the NW Film Center's Treasures from the UCLA Film & Television Archive series; more at nwfilm.org. Whitsell Auditorium.

Meat
Frederick Wiseman's "grisly" 1976 film about meat production. Screens as part of the NW Film Center and Yale Union's Production/Distribution film series; more at nwfilm.org. Whitsell Auditorium.

My French Film Festival
The Clinton Street indulges your inner Francophile with a three-day program co-presented by UniFrance that features films from up-and-coming contemporary French directors. Each night promises one comedy and one drama, so you can pick your French poison accordingly, from Mobile Home, a road-trip jaunt about two thirtysomethings, to Comme un Lion, about a Senegalese boy who dreams of making it big as a soccer star. ALISON HALLETT Clinton Street Theater.

Paradise Trilogy
Ulrich Seidl's Paradise Trilogy: Paradise: Love, Paradise: Faith, and Paradise: Hope. More at cstpdx.com. Clinton Street Theater.

PDX Motorcycle Film Festival
"High-quality motorcycle-related films" presented by the Oregon Motorcycle Road Racing Association. More at pdxmotorcyclefilms.com. Hollywood Theatre.

Rerun Theater
Old Saturday morning cartoons—this time with an apocalyptic bent, with the first episode of Return to the Planet of the Apes (!) and episodes of Thundarr the Barbarian and Ark II. Plus surgary cereal and "our favorite kids toys ads from the '60s, '70s and '80s." Hollywood Theatre.

The Song of Styrene/Slow Glass
A "subversively fantastic" look at "the positive properties of plastics," followed by John Smith's 1991 film about glassmaking. Screens as part of the NW Film Center and Yale Union's Production/Distribution film series; more at nwfilm.org. Whitsell Auditorium.

Waiting for the Light
A documentary about "the human trafficking and commercial sexual exploitation of children in Portland," presented by the Junior League. Mission Theater.

Weird Science
John Hughes' 1985 enjoyable-yet-morally bankrupt comedy about two nerds who create a real-life wet dream! Probably not the best film with which to introduce teenage boys to gender issues. Laurelhurst Theater.

The Wolf of Wall Street
A movie that's funny and alive and furious, and as good as anything Scorsese's ever done. ERIK HENRIKSEN Various Theaters.

CONSTANTIN SEVERE, director of Portland's Independent Police Review Division (IPR), can't seem to make everyone happy—neither advocates nor the city's police unions—with an important package of police oversight reforms that even he admits are modest and incremental.

Not that he hasn't been trying.

After a near-disastrous October hearing on the proposals—where Police Chief Mike Reese very notably joined the chorus of opposition—Severe and his boss, City Auditor LaVonne Griffin-Valade, spent weeks retooling the reforms and briefing city commissioners in hopes of sanding down what had been some fairly rough rhetorical edges.

Those efforts were mostly successful. Severe won over Reese while preserving the core of what he'd been proposing—enshrining IPR's right to directly interview cops in misconduct cases, while also shining fresh light on the chief's discipline decisions. And Mayor Charlie Hales, the city's police commissioner, seemed markedly more engaged when Severe brought the reforms back to city council for a second hearing in December.

But one thing became clear as that December hearing dragged on: For the proposals' biggest critics, nothing had changed.

Accountability advocates from Portland Copwatch and the Albina Ministerial Alliance Coalition for Justice and Police Reform actually thought the revisions were worse, calling them "watered down." Daryl Turner, president of the Portland Police Association (PPA), also remained as steadfastly opposed as he was in October—even admitting he might file an unfair labor practice complaint.

"That could happen," Turner said when Commissioner Nick Fish asked if he might.

Hales and the council decided to hold off on a final vote until this Wednesday, January 8, with a suggestion that Severe huddle once more with advocates and Turner (not all together; the sun would explode if that happened) and find some middle ground with each. Severe tells me he's done that. He even called his talk with Turner and his lawyer, Anil Karia, "good."

And maybe it was. But neither Turner nor Portland Copwatch, in interviews and statements before this week's vote, were willing to change their respective tunes.

"I talked about us being disappointed that there wasn't more collaboration," Turner told me this week. "That's all that came from it." (Turner, sources note, had been briefed on the proposals last year.)

Dan Handelman of Copwatch, in a long email to city commissioners, continued his insistence that the council wait until a federal judge takes up the city's proposed settlement with the feds next month on accusations our cops use too much force against people with mental illness.

Severe and Griffin-Valade are ready to push ahead all the same. Severe says he gets that advocates want something even stronger than the reforms the feds are requiring—changes like a stronger civilian oversight process and civilian oversight of police shootings.

But he also says those are legislative questions for the mayor and council—and not for his shop. Not that he wouldn't welcome them.

"Some are afraid that, okay, on [January] 8, that's the end of the conversation," Severe says. "I don't think that's what it is. It's not the end of what reforms will be in this city."

PORTLAND MIGHT NOT be losing the fight against gangs, but it's nowhere close to victory.

And this month—with 2013's gunshots still reverberating—a frustrated group of local justice officials thinks it's time for an approach that other cities have already been employing for years.

For the first time, Multnomah County plans to pay for a full assessment of the region's gang landscape, parsing law enforcement data, carrying out community surveys, and, ideally, developing a more-effective strategy for stemming the tide of violence that's emerged in the last three years.

That effort, the most comprehensive in Portland's decades-old struggle with street gangs, might be long overdue.

"There's a lot of energy in our community around this issue," Christina McMahan, who oversees juvenile probation in the county, said at a recent meeting of the region's Local Public Safety Coordinating Council. "But sometimes, literally, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. We don't know how all the pieces of the puzzle come together."

So officials decided recently to adopt a national strategy developed by Chicago researchers in the early 1990s and touted today by the federal Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention (OJJDP).

The strategy calls for many of the same tactics Portland's already employing—things like recruiting community groups, using gang outreach workers, and creating specialty law enforcement units. But the region's never undertaken a study that delves so deeply into the issue, something experts call a crucial first step.

"Unless communities explore and clearly understand the nature and scope of their gang problems based on multiple sources of information, they cannot begin to respond effectively or efficiently," reads an OJJDP guide. "An assessment is the most important step in the design and implementation of the community's plan."

That rings true here, where workers on the frontlines of the region's anti-gang fight sometimes describe inefficiencies and confusion.

"We're all serving the same clients," says Antoinette Edwards, director of the Portland Office of Youth Violence Prevention. "Sometimes six people are touching the same person. It could be more effective."

The OJJDP strategy has been used throughout the country, and is highlighted by the Oregon Youth Development Council as "proven to be effective in combating and reducing the presence of gang activity."

That's a welcome prospect for Portland. Following years of relative calm, gang activity in the city started to swell in 2010. In 2012, Portland cops dealt with 118 attacks, the most officers remembered seeing in nearly two decades. While that number fell in 2013, last year—particularly the tail end—actually saw more actual gunshot and stabbing victims.

And Portland's not the whole picture. More and more, gang violence is following the area's affordable housing past 82nd Avenue and even into Gresham, gradually departing historic trouble spots in North and Northeast Portland.

At the same time, the alliances formed to battle the problem have shown occasional strain. As the Mercury reported last month ["Unhappy Ending," News, Dec 18, 2013], there is dissension in the city's Gang Violence Task Force about the best way to stop the violence, with some community and clergy members saying the group is spinning its wheels.

Under this new approach, the Multnomah County Department of Community Justice plans to lay out what McMahan called "substantial" resources to pay a consultant to lead the charge on an assessment. An exact price wasn't available as of press time.

McMahan says the study should be complete in June, in time to implement its findings by summer—traditionally a prime time for violence. The study also will free up the county to apply for federal grants, some of which require an assessment, officials say.

But leaders hope it will do much more.

Edwards says the study is an opportunity to get much-needed community input on the thorny problem of gangs. "Are we really reaching out to the people we're trying to serve?" she asks. "A community voice has been left out."

And Multnomah County District Attorney Rod Underhill says the county's latest tack is particularly important today, as gangs increasingly differ—both in terms of activity and geography—from those that emerged here in the 1990s.

"It's certainly time, under today's challenges" for an assessment, he says. "We want to understand better what our needs are."

IT HASN'T BEEN that long. Moreover, Operation Redwings—the 2005 operation against an insurgent leader in Afghanistan that killed 19 Navy SEALs and Special Ops forces and inspired Peter Berg's Lone Survivor—is part of a conflict that hasn't fully resolved. Society hasn't processed this war, so to take liberties with it now feels, at best, premature.

Lone Survivor is based on the true story, as told by... lone survivor Marcus Luttrell (Mark Wahlberg). One of four SEALs up against a larger number of attackers (estimates vary, landing somewhere between 10 and 200, with Berg tending toward the latter), these men put up a staggering fight, the action of which the film is primarily preoccupied. Though comparisons to The Passion of the Christ are overblown, the bullets, broken bones, and brutal tumbles down steep, rocky ravines are nail bitingly riveting. Knowing how poorly things end possibly intensifies the experience, and this middle bulk of the film succeeds as a sobering and anguished war movie.

That doesn't make the fabrications less irksome. Perhaps the worst of these is a completely fictional final conflict between "Taliban" forces (a careless use of the term) and the village that harbored Luttrell until US forces could locate him. The fact that, in real life, the villagers did so according to an ancient code of honor—and that the insurgents had no realistic option other than to respect it—is a far more interesting dynamic than Berg's hail of gunfire.

Berg, who also directed Friday Night Lights, seems drawn to cultures of male bonding, and as such the men depicted here are ideal. Though their initial introductions are perfunctory, the action on the battlefield—Wahlberg is joined here in the key performances by Taylor Kitsch, Emile Hirsch, and Ben Foster—bears this out. It's been stressed that adherence to accuracy was of utmost importance to Luttrell, and it appears that his consultations on the violence itself largely ensured that. Book-ending those efforts with misleading fiction tragically undermines that.

DRIVERS on SE 82nd Avenue, it turns out, love a protest.

A chorus of honks cheered on picketers gathered outside of Fubonn Shopping Center on January 3. Never mind that the somewhat lackluster chants—"Lies and threats and staff abuses, these are tactics Fubonn uses"—were largely drowned out by traffic, or that the roughly 40 protesters appeared to be confusing TriMet operators into pulling into a nearby bus stop. Judging from the horns, many motorists were on board.

This is what Fubonn fears.

Billed as Oregon's largest Asian shopping center, the architecturally distinct mini mall at SE 82nd and Woodward has been the target of activists since the summer, when a group called the Portland Solidarity Network began picketing the business and handing out unflattering flyers.

The gist is this: According to two former employees, managers sometimes force employees to work off the clock, refuse bathroom breaks, and once made a pregnant employee lift heavy objects. The women making the complaint have alleged men are paid more, and that employees are driven to tears by harsh reprimands.

In June, the women brought their grievances to the Solidarity Network, a coalition of tenant/worker activists formed in 2011. Since then the group has repeatedly demanded—via letters, flyers, and protests like Friday's—the women be given more than $4,000 for the allegedly unpaid work.

"The model is to show Fubonn the community disapproves of this," activist Shane Burley said at the demonstration. "Even if they're going to come at us with resources we don't have, we can build a movement."

Those resources Burley's talking about? Lawyers.

Fubonn hasn't borne the name-calling lightly, and it may soon fall to a Multnomah County judge to rule whether protesters' placards are telling the truth. In October, the center's owner, Michael Liu, filed a defamation suit against the two former employees, Marisol Elizalde and Norma Salazar, along with two activists. It says Fubonn is in full compliance with the law, that the activists are lying, and that their efforts—which have included circulating flyers near Liu's home—have harmed business.

And in December, Liu's attorneys sent a harsh letter demanding that the group abandon its efforts and disclose its financial interests in exchange for Liu dropping his lawsuit.

"Please note that this will be the defendants' last chance to settle this case without monetary consequences," reads the December 12, 2013 document. "From this point forward, Fubonn and Mr. Liu will use all of their resources to clear their names and obtain judgments against the defendants and anyone else that is discovered to have participated in this or any other defamatory campaign."

A woman who answered the phone at Fubonn recently referred questions to attorneys, who didn't call back.

What's interesting is that activists had all but ended their campaign by the time the lawsuit was filed. Now it's given them fresh energy. Beyond the $4,309 the women are demanding in back pay, the group's added dropping the lawsuit to its list of demands. Activists are also pushing a boycott of Fubonn, plan to hold weekly pickets, and are hoping to enlist the help of unions.

"If Fubonn wins this campaign, it sets a precedent for the working class in Portland," activist Marko Lamson said at the protest. "Any company could sue us and know they would win. Fuck that. We're gonna set a precedent."

There are, of course, other channels the women might have gone through to achieve change. The Oregon Bureau of Labor and Industries (BOLI) investigates wage and civil rights complaints that largely line up with Elizalde and Salazar's.

"We would encourage any employee who was working with an outside organization to simultaneously file with us so we can investigate," says Charlie Burr, a BOLI spokesman.

And the bureau has received complaints about Fubonn. Most recently, an anonymous letter sent in January 2012 alleged the Fubonn Supermarket wasn't giving employees all of their entitled break time. BOLI sent two warning letters and closed the case.

IN AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY, Meryl Streep finally goes full monster. As Violet Weston, the cancer-ridden matriarch of the Weston clan, she sucks cigarette smoke through a mouth full of cancer and spits poison at her nearest and dearest. When her husband disappears after one of their routinely vicious fights, she summons her three daughters home to her side, setting the stage for an epic, toxic, and thoroughly entertaining family showdown.

Violet has a pill addiction and a mean streak, and her daughters have coping mechanisms: Ivy (Julianne Nicholson) is withdrawn and self-sufficient; ditzy Karen (Juliette Lewis) bounces from man to man; and while Barbara (Julia Roberts) seems to have the strongest claim to normalcy, she's also the most like her mother. (This is a bad thing.) As the three sisters try to figure out what to do with their sick, aging mom, Violet rails furiously against their intervention, forcing the sisters to confront the limits of their own relationships.

If you require movie characters to be "likeable," give this one a pass; the few tolerable characters (played by Benedict Cumberbatch and Chris Cooper) are steamrolled by the oversized personalities of the Weston women. These people are awful: They say terrible things to each other, make each other unhappy on purpose, and have elevated passive-aggression and vindictiveness to an art form.

Often, miserable characters make for miserable movies. But Osage County, which was adapted from Tracy Letts' Pulitzer Prize-winning play, is in the Tennessee Williams school of storytelling: not because we're dealing with a cast of seriously dysfunctional, heat-addled alcoholics, but because of the sheer, melodramatic pleasure it offers. When Meryl and Julia go at it, it's like watching two drag queens fight—wigs are strewn. Letts' screenplay is surprisingly funny, and the cast delivers all-in performances, anchored by Streep's ferociously monstrous turn. Likeable? No. Perversely fun? Absolutely.

OLD PEOPLE love Village Inn. Love it. For starters, nothing about the place has changed since 1958. Village Inn is reliable—reliably mediocre, true, but once you hit 65 or 70, reliability itself becomes of chief importance. The average age of Village Inn's patrons hovers around a cantankerous 80, which means wait staff are battle hardened. Do they have the senior-discount policy memorized? Believe it. Do they know the easiest way to get a walker to a booth? They did it five minutes ago. And of course they will put up with old people's bizarre substitutions and testy complaints, because they are motherfucking professionals. Tip Village Inn's staff well, for they have earned it—and if you ever need to take someone over the age of 65 or 70 out to eat, I cannot recommend a finer chain of casual dining restaurants. Over Christmas, I did just that: I busted my fantastic 88-year-old grandmother out of her retirement home and then floored it to Village Inn. Where, over lunch, she leaned over her tomato soup and quietly recited two poems she'd written about one of her boyfriends.

The poems were great—short and funny and heartfelt, sharp with life and nervousness. I assumed she'd written them as a teenager. But she hadn't. She wrote them about her current boyfriend, who lives in her retirement home, a floor or two down from her.

I suspect my grandmother would have a hard time with some of the specifics of Her, Spike Jonze's film in which a man falls in love with his phone's artificially intelligent operating system. But I think she'd still get caught up in the film, as will just about anyone who's ever been in love. Hacky film critics are going to write about how Her is a film about our relationship with technology, but it isn't. Her is a film about our relationships.

Her's near-future is minimalist and optimistic, dappled in sunlight and crowded with graceful skyscrapers. (It's the sort of future where Microsoft products—let alone poverty, disease, or Village Inns—no longer exist.) The technology in this world is elegant and clear, smoothly and constantly complementing the lives of people like writer Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix). So it's not that surprising when Theodore starts a relationship with his phone's OS, Samantha (Scarlett Johansson): Theodore is kind and melancholy and funny, and Samantha is clever and independent and insightful. Soon they're in love—and soon after that, things get complicated, thanks to time-honored relationship issues like Samantha not having a body.

Prior to Her, Jonze hadn't directed a bad feature—from Being John Malkovich to Where the Wild Things Are to Adaptation—and Her, which he also wrote, might be his best. Like Nicole Holofcener's recent Enough Said, Her is a reminder that romantic comedies don't have to be cynical, mechanical things: Her is as funny and weird and challenging as it is earnest and sweet. Theodore and Samantha's relationship feels real—it's impossible not to get emotionally invested in it, not to think back on stray words and glances—even after Jonze's film has ended. That's something pretty timeless and pretty rare, in movies or poetry or real life. You'd have to ask her to be sure, but I'm guessing my grandmother would feel the same way.

IT'S MINUS 12 DEGREES outside, but the heat inside the bar is almost unbearable. People shed their jackets and gloves in favor of the dance floor, trading icy limbs for perspiring ones. Then, it's a pleasant 60 degrees and the sun is shining like midday, though the clock clearly reads 10:30 pm.

Welcome to Alaska.

Regardless of the season, the feeling at live shows here is an electric current running through the crowd. There's something different, a sense of connection that's not always found in other places—a friendly hunger for something new and interesting.

Alaska is the perfect place for bands looking for an experience outside of the usual tour circuit. "They have to come up here with a sense of adventure," says singer/songwriter Evan Phillips. Phillips is one of the co-founders of the Monolith Agency, a small booking firm located in Anchorage. Phillips, alongside co-founders Martin Severin and Marc Bourdon, hopes to build a bridge between musicians in the lower 48 and Alaska. Portland is a key part of that exchange.

Alameda, Quiet Life, Lewi Longmire, Hillstomp, and the Ezza Rose Band are just a few of the Portland artists that have already made the approximately 2,500-mile trip up north. Although the distance and expense might make the trip sound like a pipedream, Monolith's aim is to make travel, recording, and touring an affordable and exciting experience for up-and-coming artists. Even in the agency's nascent stages, the three cohorts work to make the experience worthwhile. "It seemed unrealistic at first, but Evan pulled it off," says Sean Spellman of the band Quiet Life, one of the first bands to work with Monolith. "The next thing I knew we were chasing moose and watching the Northern Lights after the show. We went up there because we wanted to get dirty, to stay up late, and to just play music."

Some bands choose to tour in summer and others winter, and each experience is tailored to fit their preferences and goals. "It's not like we're booking the same tour every time," Phillips says. "Every band's tour is different. It goes band-to-band, artist-to-artist. We just try to use our judgment and get people the best gigs for them." Shows can vary from wild, larger bar gigs to quiet, intimate house shows, and often take bands off the beaten path. Tour locations include small towns like Talkeetna, Seward, and even remote destinations like Denali National Park. The shows themselves are, of course, only one facet of the journey.

Most bands choose to spend several days in the locations they play, allowing them to get a better sense of the community where they're performing. This offers a nice change from a tour's typically rigorous pace, says singer/songwriter Ezza Rose: "As a band, it was really fun to connect and spend all of that time together. You'd spend a few days in a town, and it doesn't take long for people to get word that the band's around. People will find you in the coffee shop, ask you about your music, and ask you about how it's going."

"Everywhere we went, folks were really open and talkative," says Lewi Longmire. "Maybe it's the isolation of long winters indoors or something, but everywhere we went, folks were super friendly and wanting to interact. Lots of great stories got passed around."

The Monolith Agency also hopes to offer visiting bands something more in the coming months, including a professional recording studio and a series of live video sessions of touring artists. Studio 2200, recently built by Severin, offers a library of instruments and professional gear to bands who want to record in the Last Frontier. It's a space designed to allow bands to feel at home even while being far removed from their everyday lives. "To me it was a goal to make something that was very inviting and comfortable," Severin says.

Alaska is gradually becoming the next destination for bands, especially through word-of-mouth recommendations. Stirling Myles, of the Portland band Alameda, likens the tour experience to a secret world. "It's like this thing—here's the world that I want to invite you to—and you pass it on to other bands. It's not just a tour route, it's more than that," says Myles. "Half of the places you're playing aren't even true venues. It's just about navigating through this different culture. It's more about being accepted into the community as a whole."

"THE HOUSE WE GOT has chickens," Patterson Hood says, and of course it does. You don't up and move to Portland for six weeks and not get a house with chickens in a walk-able neighborhood. "It'll be a little weird for me," he adds, "having grown up in the South and away from any kind of mass transit, to not have a car. There's the Zipcar thing." There is, and that puts him just one bike commute short of citizenship. He laughs. "It would do me some good to get on a bike, probably."

Hood's best known as one of the Drive-By Truckers, makers of thunderous rock songs with a Southern lean. Hood's also put out a couple of solo records, including 2012's excellent Heat Lightning Rumbles in the Distance. He's from Alabama. He lives in Georgia. He doesn't fit the profile of the musician who usually sets up shop around here. But he's been touring through Portland for more than a decade, and he and his wife turned Peter Buck's wedding here last year into a mini-vacation, and had a blast. "My wife would probably pack up and move tomorrow," he says.

Instead, they kicked around the idea of an extended vacation around Christmas and New Year's, some family time during a rare lull in Hood's schedule. He'll play a few shows this month, including three consecutive Wednesdays at the Doug Fir, and they'll relax before the Truckers release their 12th album, English Oceans, in March, and Hood hits the road hard.

English Oceans features an even split of songwriting duties between Hood and Mike Cooley, and a last-minute addition inspired by Portland writer/musician Willy Vlautin's upcoming novel The Free. Hood says he and Vlautin became pen pals after Hood became obsessed with Vlautin's last book, Lean on Pete. "I'm a huge, huge fan of his," Hood says, and even if he never puts his feet on pedals while he's here, that alone should qualify him as a local.

After reading The Free, Hood immediately wrote "Pauline Hawkins" from the point of view of a nurse in the book, a woman who maintains a quiet, determined grace in the face of the kind of day-to-day grind that could break a lot of people. The Truckers recorded and mixed the song in one day. Hood sent it to Vlautin, who says he's still awed by the song's existence.

Vlautin will open Hood's first show (January 8) at the Doug Fir. "That'll be a good way to kick off the residency, and then I'll have to figure out how to follow," Hood says.

Fernando Viciconte joins Hood for the January 15 show, and Sera Cahoone on January 22. With a dozen Truckers records and three solo albums, Hood figures it shouldn't be too difficult to make each show different. He says he'll figure it out as he goes along—no use over-thinking his vacation, which, he says, is also a sort of test run. Perhaps for a more permanent relocation?

"It could happen at some point," Hood says. "I would love for it to at least be the start of doing this more. We did kind of intentionally do it during the rainy, crappy season just to see how it feels. Because we know how awesome it is in June."

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 8

MUSIC—Those Wainwrights just keep coming! Lucy Wainwright Roche (brother of Martha and Rufus, daughter of Loudon III, along with musician mother Suzzy Roche). It will shock nobody that this Wainwright traffics in soothing, acoustically arranged songs, but the crystalline quality of her voice and earnestness of her lyrics will perk you up. MS
w/Shelley Short; Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi, 8 pm, $10-12

MUSIC—Drive-By Truckers frontman Patterson Hood makes no secret of his admiration for Portland writer/musician Willy Vlautin. He even wrote a song about a character from Vlautin's forthcoming novel, The Free. Tonight, with Hood starting a three-week residency at the Doug Fir, their musical worlds collide—Hood's beloved alt-country twang, Vlautin's more rock-centered sensibility, and some hardscrabble tales. DVH
Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside, 9 pm, $12-14

THURSDAY, JANUARY 9

MUSIC—The tumbledown, cinematic records of Chicago's Califone feed folk music through a rusty bandsaw, pulling shreds of gorgeousness out of the tatters. See Tim Rutili & Co. as they play songs from last year's subtly winning Stitches, and probably throw in a wild card or two. NL
w/the Luyas; Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi, 9 pm, $13-15

COMEDY—When he's not shopping for sweatpants or trying to start Twitter battles with salsa companies, stand-up Kyle Kinane is busy being insanely hysterical. The gruff-voiced beardo's a bit blue collar, decidedly misanthropic, and he will most assuredly make you cry tears of joy into your Hamm's. CF
Helium Comedy Club, 1510 SE 9th, Thurs 8 pm, Fri-Sat 7:30 & 10 pm, $15-25

FRIDAY, JANUARY 10

MUSIC—If you're looking for the best in Portland punk, it would behoove you to turn to local producers Hovercraft Records—whose love for the genre and vinyl is legendary. And tonight you can catch much of their ear-splitting roster in this sure-to-be-rocking Hovercraft Records Showcase, featuring LA Drugz, Hornet Leg, Oakland's Burnt Thrones Club, Honey Bucket, and more! WSH
Star Theater, 13 NW 6th, 8 pm, $5

MUSIC—Maybe you missed them this summer or maybe you can't get enough of Portland's favorite folksy rockers, the Builders and the Butchers. Well, they're back for a stacked bill with Tiburones and Old Age, which promises a calorie-burning good time and a dancing sweat that'll feel all the better in these frosty days. CF
Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside, 9 pm, $12

SATURDAY, JANUARY 11

MUSIC—I first saw folk rockers Thao & the Get Down Stay Down at laidback hippie-fest Pickathon, and I was not prepared. There's verve and soul in Thao's music, but there's a twisting, vibrant energy, too—and that's why seeing her live is so goddamn fun. EH
w/Sonny and the Sunsets; Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell, 9 pm, $15-30

(ANOTHER) NEW YEAR—If you can't get enough of that new-year smell, take the multicultural route and celebrate them all. For the eighth year running, the Eastern European-inspired Chervona is celebrating Russian Old New Year with music, Russian food and vodka, an awards ceremony that highlights the most bizarre Russian headlines of the year, and more. MS
w/Darka Dusty, Miri Stebivka, DJ Zhena; Star Theater, 13 NW 6th, 9 pm, $20-45

SUNDAY, JANUARY 12

TV—It's gonna be a great year for television, and it's off to a bang-up start with tonight's debut of HBO's True Detective, starring a brilliant Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey as a pair of complicated cops. The series jumps back and forth though time as the two try to capture a serial killer—while battling demons of their own. Highly recommended! WSH
Followed by the season premiere of Girls, your TV, HBO, 9 pm

DRUMS—The collaborative spirit of Portland is embodied in tonight's Secret Drum Band show: Lisa Schonberg (formerly of Explode into Colors) has assembled a new lineup for her percussion ensemble that includes members of Sun Angle and Unwound. They'll perform songs based on Schonberg's new book, created with artist Aidan Koch, about bees. Drums, books, art, bees. Got all that? AH
w/Dubais, Marisa Anderson, DJ Allan Wilson; Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison, 8:30 pm, $6

MONDAY, JANUARY 13

MUSIC—Portland keyboardist/composer Ben Darwish holds down the fort this week at Al's Den, performing nightly with a variety of special guests dropping by (including a secret guest band on Saturday, January 18). One of Portland's most adventurous musicians, Darwish will play jazz, pop, funk, and R&B (sometimes all at once), plus material from his recent multimedia project, The Lonely Night. NL
Al's Den, 303 SW 12th, Sun Jan 12-Sat Jan 18, 7 pm, FREE

FILM—Besides some of the best short films and music videos ever, director Spike Jonze has a bulletproof feature film record: Being John Malkovich, Where the Wild Things Are, Adaptation. His latest, Her, stars Joaquin Phoenix as a man who falls in love with his phone's OS (voiced, as all OSes should be, by Scarlett Johansson). Everyone is very excited for this movie. That's because it's probably going to be great. EH
Various Theaters, see Movie Times and our review

TUESDAY, JANUARY 14

FILM—August: Osage County is unabashedly over the top, anchored by Meryl Streep in full-on monster-diva mode. If mean-spirited theatricality bums you out, give this one a pass—but if you can get behind a tawdry, foul-mouthed, knock-down family melodrama, it's awesome. AH
Various Theaters, see Movie Times and our review

LECTURE—Lawrence Wright, the decorated New Yorker writer who took on Scientology in his book Going Clear, will regale Portland with fascinating tales. The bad news is that to secure tickets you may have to purchase a four-event "subscription" at a minimum of $100. If you don't have the scratch, you can always wander into the downtown Scientology center and draw your own conclusions. DVH
Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway, 7:30 pm, $100-244 for a four-show subscription (individual tickets will be announced if available)

WEDNESDAY 1/8

PATTERSON HOOD, WILLY VLAUTIN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!, and read our article on Patterson Hood.

LUCY WAINWRIGHT ROCHE, SHELLEY SHORT
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See My, What a Busy Week!

THURSDAY 1/9

CALIFONE, THE LUYAS
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) In 16-some years, Califone haven't really changed. Which is to say they've had no need for reinvention. Unlike surfers of the stylistic zeitgeist, Tim Rutili's rusty, warm, tactile, vagabond folk continues to crack with the utmost distinction. Like a hobo's fire, the Chicago group's vast catalog warms and warbles, flickering in haunted harmony. Whether it's the singular production, the numerous collaborations, or the places they play—sometimes in living rooms, sometimes at music festivals on a farm—Rutili is a true auteur, his vision all-encompassing. And like many other such greats, he's had help, including his former Red Red Meat bandmates Brian Deck and Ben Massarella. Califone remains reliable almost to a fault. Indeed, we may be too comfortable with their presence. God forbid they should go, but let's not wait until that day to show our appreciation. ANDREW R TONRY Also see My, What a Busy Week!

SUMMER CANNIBALS, HURRY UP!, SPOOKIES
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Summer Cannibals have a new EP, and since we're into winter at this point, your flesh should be safe should you choose to go to their release party on Thursday. As a bonus, the first 50 show-goers through the door get a free copy of the four-song Make You Better cassette. The sweet-and-salty set takes fuzzed-out blasts and makes them better with pinches of '60s girl-group pop. It's a warm sound played with a nervous energy—sunny but not necessarily carefree. The Cannibals are joined by Hurry Up! (with members of the Thermals and Bangs) and the lo-fi all-stars in Spookies. MATTHEW W. SULLIVAN

THE CENTURY, NO GOOD LOVERS, SURFS DRUGS
(Kenton Club, 2025 N Kilpatrick) When I asked Berg Radin (lead vocals/guitar in Surfs Drugs) if he had any new tracks I could listen to, he sent me a video of himself playing a song in his room wearing an Indiana Jones hat and Mickey Mouse hands. If this is any indication, he makes music that's warm and playful, with a trippy, guitar-driven vibe and veiled, distorted lyrics. You might know Radin from Portland's beloved basement-rockers And And And, and while Surfs Drugs has traces of that band's thrashing rock 'n' roll momentum, their music is a little more fuzzed out, like it decided to go for a long drive and get high. Catch this rad lineup for free at the most world-famous bar in Portland. RACHEL MILBAUER

LA DRUGZ, LUNCH, WOUNDS
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) If you slept on Lunch's cassette full-length Quinn Touched the Sun last year, here's another chance to get acquainted with the local punk-rock quartet. The band kicks off the year with a new 7-inch release containing remastered takes on four of the strongest tracks from Quinn. The upbeat opening title track, "Johnny Pineapple," might have been tuned up a bit for this re-release, but its urgency and scrappiness still shines through. On the flip side,"Monochrome Lust" sees the group slow things down a bit, flexing their sound as they dip into post-punk territory. While competent garage-rock bands continue to spring up just about everywhere you look, Lunch finds a way to stand out in that pack, thanks to the infectious gung-ho spirit that drives their live shows and recordings. CHIPP TERWILLIGER

PORTLAND METAL WINTER OLYMPICS: SATYRESS, MURSA
(White Owl Social Club, 1305 SE 8th) Two years ago, Portland's most enthusiastic headbanger, Nathan Carson, created the Portland Metal Winter Olympics as a way to introduce budding local heavy-rock bands to the city's tastemakers and fans through the guise of a friendly, single-elimination bracket-style competition. After a year off with Carson concentrating his efforts on his band Witch Mountain and his day job as a booking agent, the PMWO is back. If tonight's lineup is any indication, the field of competitors this time around is deep. Going head-to-head is Satyress, a female-led group of Sabbath/BÖC-worshipping doomsters, and the creeping, growling sludge of Mursa. Keep your hands warm and your devil horn salute at the ready, metalheads; the winter looks to be long, dark, and loud. ROBERT HAM

FRIDAY 1/10

THE BUILDERS AND THE BUTCHERS, TIBURONES, OLD AGE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!

HOVERCRAFT RECORDS SHOWCASE: LA DRUGZ, HORNET LEG, CHARTS, MYTHOLOGICAL HORSES, BURNT THRONES CLUB, SEALION, VASAS, HONEY BUCKET
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week!

DAN LURIE, NATE WEY
(The Waypost, 3120 N Williams) Following up 2011's super-amiable Spirit of '98, Dan Lurie's latest is a just-as-charming collection of songs he originally released on a series of digital EPs. Postcard Club's 12 tunes were recorded on a Tascam cassette eight-track recorder in Lurie's spare bedroom, and then sent to Virginia for co-producer Daniel Dominic Mancini to add his own shading. The result is an intimate but fully ripened album of Lurie's terrific tunes, packed with chunky folk turns and sweater-warm melodies. Lurie has released Postcard Club—the songs derived their inspiration from a series of thrift-store postcards—on cassette (fittingly) in a limited edition of 50. Tonight's release show is your surest bet to get one before they're gone forever. NED LANNAMANN

WHITEY MORGAN AND THE 78S
(Dante's, 350 W Burnside) Whitey Morgan makes outlaw country music, and he looks the part, too. Photos of the Flint, Michigan, singer/songwriter are a parade of black T-shirts, mean-mugs, greasy ballcaps, forearm tattoos, and leather vests. But Morgan is more than just a sound or a look; he revels in playing the kind of rebellious character made famous in the '70s by honky-tonk legends like Waylon, Merle, Hank Jr., and the Man in Black. None of this stuff would matter much if Morgan couldn't deliver musically, but his 2010 self-titled album on alt-country super-label Bloodshot Records is a well-played and engaging exercise in "real" country music, with shuffling rhythms, swooping steel guitar, and Morgan's powerful, whiskey-soaked baritone as far as the ear can hear. It's all so authentic, you might find yourself with a little skip in your step as you enter Dante's tonight, lest the saloon doors hit you in the ass on your way in. BEN SALMON

SATURDAY 1/11

THAO AND THE GET DOWN STAY DOWN, SONNY AND THE SUNSETS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!

OLD RUSSIAN NEW YEAR: CHERVONA
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) See My, What a Busy Week!

OREGON SYMPHONY, EMANUEL AX: BACH AND STRAUSS
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) There's a shit-ton of reasons to be stoked about this particular show: Beethoven's Symphony No. 8 on the program; Emanuel Ax at the piano; Carlos Kalmar atop the podium. I could certainly devote all these words to any of those supreme joys, but here's a little secret: It doesn't matter what the fuck is on the program, or who the hell happens to be at the piano, or atop the goddamned podium. Why? Because after witnessing every classical concert the Oregon Symphony's performed the past three seasons, the one constant that can always be counted on is the band itself, in all its 76-piece glory. In this town, where any inked yahoo with a washboard can call himself a "musician" when he's not whipping up a mocha soy latte, it's utterly inspiring to behold these crazy, brave masters of music on the Schnitzer stage, who week in and week out guarantee blown minds and broken hearts. Resolve to start the new year off right by witnessing brilliance for once in your worthless life. ANGRY SYMPHONY GUY

UFOFBI, THE WOOLEN MEN, SPOOKIES
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) The tagline for new record label Space Cassette is "pop music by the unpopular," a praiseworthy sentiment if ever there was one. Tonight, the folks behind this imprint—former Shaky Hands members Mayhaw Hoons and Alex Arrowsmith, with the Minders' Martyn Leaper—bring that notion to glorious life with this show. It's a celebration of the release of a new split 7-inch featuring the ragged garage pop of Spookies and the ever prolific Woolen Men, and the night also includes a likeminded batch of freaks from Stockholm known as UFOFBI. The trio call to mind the tossed-off, lo-fi sonic experiments that would cut through the rock triumphalism on early GBV releases. UFOFBI calls it "dreamtrash," I call it my new favorite band. RH

THRONES, SURVIVAL KNIFE, DANIEL MENCHE, DJ DENNIS DREAD
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Daniel Menche is nothing if not prolific. The Portland musician has released a stockpile of material over the past two decades, creating languid and lurking soundscapes that can corrode your inner circuitry. It pairs well with choice chemicals. Menche shares the bill with shrapnel-makers Survival Knife and Joe Preston's doom-personified Thrones. Survival Knife (featuring Justin Trosper and Brandt Sandeno of Unwound) released a pair of 7-inches on Sub Pop and Kill Rock Stars last year that are filled with hooks and plenty of other twists and turns to keep you off balance. And Thrones continue to sporadically release material while swallowing up cities and decimating eardrums—more importantly, Preston is celebrating 20 years under the moniker. Earplugs and a diaper recommended. MARK LORE

THREE FOR SILVER, WILL KIMBROUGH, BERGERETTE
(Secret Society, 116 NE Russell) The first time I saw Will Kimbrough, he was playing guitar with Todd Snider and opening for Jimmy Buffett in front of tens of thousands. The last time I saw Kimbrough, he was at the old Berbati's Pan, playing alongside Rodney Crowell as Johnny Cash in Crowell's "I Walk the Line (Revisited)." Kimbrough's worked with Guy Clark, Rosanne Cash, John Prine, the Jayhawks, Emmylou Harris, Mavis Staples, and on and on. He's an all-star's all-star. All of which risks overshadowing his solo work, which is consistently as good as any in the genre. Three for Silver, with Lucas Warford and his five-string bass banjo, headline. Opener Bergerette sings, in its words, "French pop music straight out of 700 years ago." RYAN WHITE

RABBITS, GAYTHEIST, JONNY X AND THE GROADIES, POLST, THE GOUT
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) Gaytheist's last album Hold Me... But Not So Tight was easily one of my favorite local releases of last year. Coming just eight short months after their equally excellent 2012 offering, Stealth Beats, the noise-rock trio delivered the textbook definition of a one-two punch. I'm able to keep coming back to these releases because it's just so refreshing to hear music as heavy as this paired up with vocals that can effortlessly be deciphered and appreciated right out of the gate. Sure, guitarist/vocalist Jason Rivera's lyrics are packed with wit and humor, but they also have the ability to strike a serious subject with laser accuracy. Tonight Gaytheist shares the stage with the chaotic sludge-rock sounds of Rabbits for an all-ages affair that should feel like a bit of a reprise of last year's delightful Eolian Empire cassette compilation release shows. CT

LONG HALLWAYS, APPENDIXES, MONTHS
(Foggy Notion, 3416 N Lombard) Most of the first track on Long Hallways' new album, Live from Dystopia, paints a gorgeous, mellow, walking-paced picture of this two-year-old Portland band. "David the Lion" is a churning chunk of post-rock spiked with interstellar guitar explorations that climb ever heavenward as the song gains momentum; Explosions in the Sky—an acknowledged influence, per Long Hallways' Facebook profile—would be proud. But in its last 30 seconds, the song detours into a quick post-punk-ish groove that foreshadows the more aggressive sound of the rest of the album. From there, Dystopia bounces around the world of instrumental, experimental rock, never passing on an opportunity to ride jazzy bass lines, crescendoing guitars and occasional electronic embellishments to an emotional climax. On Saturday, Long Hallways will celebrate the album's digital release—they'll have download cards!—at Foggy Notion with shoegaze group Appendixes and the unGoogleable band Months. BS

SUNDAY 1/12

HYLAEUS PARTY: THE SECRET DRUM BAND, DUBAIS, MARISA ANDERSON, ALLAN WILSON
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!

BEN DARWISH
(Al's Den, 303 SW 12th) See My, What a Busy Week!

OREGON SYMPHONY, EMANUEL AX: BACH AND STRAUSS
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) See Saturday's listing.

MARIA TAYLOR, ST. EVEN, PJ BOND
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Party Damage Records has seen fit to give St. Even's spectacularly great second, self-titled album a widespread digital release, following its super-limited physical issue on Gorbie International (which was accompanied by a harrowing memoir by Alan Hefter, father of Steve Hefter—that's St. Even to you). St. Even was one of the best local releases of 2013, and with Party Damage's re-release, it's poised to be one of the best of 2014, too, with 14 sharp, sturdy, at times ingenious compositions boasting gorgeous arrangements by co-conspirator Jake Kelly. So many of these songs are already unkillable classics in my book: the subtly twisted "A Light Goes on in My Car," the gracious "Home Is Where You Hang Your Head," the curvaceous "Worth the Wading," and the wrenching, album-closing "Forest Fire." If Hefter plays even one of those songs tonight, it's worth going. NL

ANDY MCKEE, CRIS LUCAS
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) I have a pretty high tolerance for musical stupidity—Load is (by far) my favorite Metallica album and I am an unabashed (pre-Poodle Hat) Weird Al fan—but I find Andy McKee and all of his Candy Rat Records compatriots completely, unbearably, peerlessly idiotic. First off, I hate that thing that twinkly, "technical" acoustic guitarists do where they tap their fingernails on the body of the instrument and act like this is somehow a viable musical technique. It isn't, and it sounds like shit. Secondly, this is ultimately very cerebral, calculated music masquerading as sensitive and impassioned (song titles include "Drifting," "Ebon Coast," and "Song for My Father"—ew). Lastly is McKee's self-righteous opposition to drugs, and here I quote: "I too have never touched weed, pills, blow, or needles. I'm always insulted when people find that hard to believe. 'How can you write such insane music straight?!?' Frick! Some of us are just creative using only the chemicals already present in our bodies." Pfft! See ya after class, nerd! MORGAN TROPER

PALS FEST FUNDRAISER: FANNO CREEK, TIGER HOUSE, TALKATIVE
(Firkin Tavern, 1937 SE 11th) PALS Clubhouse is a near and dear house venue to local music enthusiasts. It's wedged inconspicuously next to the train tracks in Southeast Portland, with shows curated by musicians and fans alike, who create a genre-bending array of lineups that usually end in early-morning bonfires, dance parties, and fuzzy bike rides home. On top of their gracious open-door policy, the PALS family hosts PALS Fest, a celebration and sampling of some of the best music Portland has to offer. A huge amount of work goes into planning this event, which will be hosted at numerous venues over the course of a week this summer. The fact that these shows are always free is the cherry on the pie, and is all the more reason for you to go out tonight for a good cause—your pals making great music. RM

THE KNOW'S NINTH ANNIVERSARY: GRAVES AT SEA, HELLSHOCK, THE SIEGE FIRE
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) Tonight the Know celebrates its ninth birthday and it's doing it as few others would: with a slate of gnarly, scrawling doom metal. But the point isn't so much the bands, which, in turn, is precisely the point. For nearly a decade, the Know has offered a stage to musicians who don't always have one. That might mean players of caustic punk, metal, and noise, or simply those without fans or credentials—to put it another way: the hungry and/or the awful. (I know. I've been parts of both, and we took that tiny stage.) And if Portland continues its buzzing, quirky growth and indeed wants to maintain its reputation as fertile ground for artists of all stripes, venues like the Know become ever more important (RIP, the Artistery). In a land where gourmet food carts, bullshit sake bars, and new condominium developments sprout overnight, we must keep our eyes—and our hearts—on the stalwarts of the ground floor: the places bands go to learn something, to play for no one. Where the beer is cheap and the soundman nonexistent. Where mettle is tested without the help of a hip, new, shiny veneer. A place, for good or ill—but always without prejudice—to just get down to it. Even if that shitty next-door neighbor with the over-sensitive ears makes sure things end early. Cheers to the Know, and here's to 99 more. ART

MONDAY 1/13

BEN DARWISH
(Al's Den, 303 SW 12th) See My, What a Busy Week!

OREGON SYMPHONY, EMANUEL AX: BACH AND STRAUSS
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) See Saturday's listing.

CARCRASHLANDER, GRAVES
(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) Carcrashlander's latest, A Plan to Tell the Future, surfaced online last May, but tonight Cory Gray's macabre dirges receive physical release, as the album comes out on vinyl through Jealous Butcher and tape via Curly Cassettes. (What, no CD? It's like Sam Goody circa 1982 in here!) Gray, the main man behind the Carcrashlander moniker, has collaborated with dozens of Portland musicians, but his own work carves out unique territory, and the album is a subterranean folio of keyboard-driven compositions that at times buzz with futuristic electricity and at others seem exhumed from centuries past. The daring, dark A Plan to Tell the Future won't make your winter any brighter, but it will inject it with some tumultuous excitement. NL

TUESDAY 1/14

BEN DARWISH
(Al's Den, 303 SW 12th) See My, What a Busy Week!