MIC CRENSHAW, DJ MARQUEZ
(Ohm, 31 NW 1st)
I had the pleasure of attending a Mic Crenshaw show at the Ohm recently and realized that this guy is serious about his shit. There was a nice crowd of people and the music was on point! This is the sort of thing that's important to support in this town, because it goes a long way in showing bar owners and the media that underground hiphop is a legitimate force in the city of Portland. Crenshaw is backed by DJ Marquez, with whom many have mingled at his day job at 360 Vinyl. This Marquez character has been known to get freaky on the wheels of steel, providing a dynamic duo you don't want to miss! Get off your stankin' asses and support some real hiphop shit! ERIC BOWLER
C.O.C.O, THE LOVEMAKERS, HEADPHONE, PLAN B
(Blackbird, 3728 NE Sandy)
Plan B was a live downtempo act from Seattle, which was always of high quality, but never really quite floated my emotional boat. However, lately we hear he's been augmenting the DJ-and-upright-bass lineup and somehow integrating more b-boying in the mix, which is exciting. And it'll be like the third or fourth time anyone has danced in the Blackbird like, ever. It is rumored that the duo Headphone will soon be denizens of Portland, and bringing their head-knocking, keyboard dance-metal with them. This bodes well for the state of the union. JULIANNE SHEPHERD
ENTRANCE, DEVENDRA BANHART, ARRINGTON DE DIONYSO, FAUN FABLES, BIRDNEST BROTHERS
(Birdnest, 1532 SE 32nd Place, 9 pm)
See Music pg 15
THE DIVINE COMEDY
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd)
The Divine Comedy is one man, that man being the theatrically inclined Neil Hannon, who swears he was influenced by R.E.M. but sounds a lot more like Electric Light Orchestra to me. KATHLEEN WILSON
FRIDAY 1/24
CROSSTIDE, ANATOMY OF A GHOST, THE GREY FIGHT, INTERLACE
(Meow Meow, 527 SE Pine)
The kids are always right. While not always true (see TRL bands for more proof of this), it's accurate enough, and when it comes to the kids in PDX, they love themselves some Crosstide. The band's shows, especially the all-age variety, are packed wall-to-wall with enthusiastic youngsters who vacate the suburbs for a night of distortion-heavy, falsetto-drenched, indierock. While far from reinventing the wheel, Crosstide just perfect what they do--making finely-tuned music that is both melodic, emotional, and buoyant enough to make you forgot the black cloud of mid-20s jadedness that permanently lingers above you. CARMELO MARTINEZ
MIRAH, THE HAGGARD, HOLLY IS MY HOBBY, SQUIRREL MEAT
(Nicole's, 617 NE Fremont, 7 pm)
"Last time, they emerged out of a papier-mâché vagina covered in blood," my friend Dawn gushed about local art-punks Squirrel Meat, "and after the show, they went back in." If the promise of giant bloody vaginas isn't enough to lure you, perhaps the presence of Mirah--the most heart-melting songwriter, whose voice invites bluebirds and fawns to her side--will? Also, bring money, cause it's a benefit for DIYinPDX. JS
SLOBBERBONE, MOONSHINE HANGOVER, JACKASS WILLIE
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash)
I'm no official on Denton, Texas' Slobberbone, but there's something about their newest release, Slippage, that reminds me of a mix tape I got from a guy I knew 10 years ago. He recorded songs by Buffalo Tom, the Jayhawks, and Uncle Tupelo between tracks by old R.E.M., Camper Van Beethoven, and other jangly college-rock standbys on a two-song tape that stayed in my stereo for what seemed like forever. The result was a compilation akin to an indierock record recorded in some farmhouse off a dusty rural road--a genre-straddling combination with straw in its hair and rock in its heart. The same sort of indierock/country blurring occurs with Slobberbone. One minute, they're playing an Americana ballad ("Sister Beams"); the next, they're kicking up their cowboy boots and dancing around to songs about butchers with steely-eyed commands. Topped by frontman Brent Best's whiskeyed vocals, Slobberbone should warm up the night for fans of pastoral indierock or alt-country with cowpunk underpinnings. JENNIFER MAERZ
SIAMESE, SYSTEMWIDE, DJ MAGNETO
(Fez, 316 SW 11th)
See CD Review pg 15
KID QUIZ, BINARY DOLLS, MAYBE HAPPENING
(Rabbit Hole, 203 SE Grand)
Kid Quiz are two women who make electronic music that's easy on the heart. The trip-hoppy rhythms are decidedly downtempo, functioning as a resting pulse rate for the songs. The singing is all grown up and echoey, perfectly pleasant sounding if you're into the breathless whispering thing. Quiz pushes the pendulum around from spooky and knowing to morose or ominous, but the ruling principle is keeping it super-chill. For some reason I keep associating the sound with the taste of mint. It's weird to have taste associations with music, but there you go: fresh mint. Binary Dolls deserve applause for making conscious strides towards switching up the standard, palatable elements of pop music. Take for instance the fact that on their latest album they banned all guitar solos that weren't mangled. We like mangled! MARJORIE SKINNER
JASON MRAZ, MARTINA SORBARA
(Dante's)
Jason Mraz is a big, doofy goober for three major sins. 1) In San Diego, he does radio station identification for one of Clear Channel's affiliates: "This is Ju-Ju-Ju-Jason Mraz and you're liiistening to 91X!" He's imitating a DJ scratching his first name! Aaargh! Goober! Sinner! 2) He scored possibly THEE worst CMJ headline in history: "Jason Mraz Loves Sex." Weeeak! Sin! 3) His music: Beachy, coffeehouse crap that "earned" a big-time major label deal by being nothing more than bargain-bin Jewel with boy parts and better teeth. Sin! Oh, and Martina Sorbara opens this show, but it might as well be Hitler, because ... Sin! AG
JIMMY SMITH GROUP, GARY BECK TRIO
(Aladdin, 3017 SE Milwaukie)
The king of grunting, gravel-throated cool is holding court in Portland this week. No, I'm not talking about Tom Waits, I'm talking about the preacher of "The Sermon." Never adorned with any flashy title like his contemporaries, when Jimmy Smith sits in front of the B-3 organ, I'll be damned if you don't wanna kiss his ring. From putting game down on Blue Note playing with Kenny Burrell, Art Blakey, Lou Morgan, Ike Quebec, to his early work on Verve, Smith was innovating his distinct style and taking the organ to a whole other level. CHAZZ MADRIGAL
TEMPORARY RESIDENCE SHOWCASE: HOWARD HELLO, LAZARUS, CASTANETS
(Blackbird)
Run by semi-new Portlander Jeremy Devine, Temporary Residence has long been releasing innovative, intellectual music, often rooted in (but not confined by) rock. Heavy on the orchestral (i.e. Explosions in the Sky, Tarentel, Halifax Pier) but even heavier on the aesthetically pleasing-yet-artistically challenging (Fridge, Cerberus Shoal, Howard Hello), basically, Jeremy's been getting bust-ass on this shit since, like, '98. Forthcoming releases include sharp-as-fuck rapper Cex, The Anomoanon, which is basically the entire Oldham family, and my raison d'etre, robotic nipple-tweakers Nice Nice. Tonight, though, is a nice sampling of Howard Hello (the wonderful guitar-and-bewilderment collaboration between two elusive music giants: Rumah Sakit's Kenseth Thibideau and dilute's Marty Anderson). Lazarus includes Trevor from Tarentel with.. yes, Marty from dilute... essentially doing depressive, "kill-yourself-hopeless" folk music. Castanets are not on Temporary Residence, but purportedly include members of The Album Leaf. JS
HIPHOP TOMORROW EPISODE 2 STARRING ALTERED STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS, DJ WICKED & EVIL ONE, DJS VOID, KOLA, WHEELS, SNEAKERS
(Berbati's)
Not one to be limited by the confines of fame, riches, or an unmanageable collection of shoes, DJ Wicked set up "HipHop Tomorrow," which is a very definitive OTHER in relation to the mindless boobery often promoted by MTV or Jammin'. Wicked, who is pretty much Portland's agreed-upon hardest working aims to show Portland how to really rock a party with true hiphop, rather than cuts that leave one feeling like an empty husk of a human--and if boobery happens to rear its head, you can bet it will be conscious, if not intellectual. Joining him is a virtual army of DJs; Altered States of Consciousness, which include MCs Nisan & Nautilus; and The Evil One (the Mercury's own Eric Bowler) who, together with Wicked, comprises the Bling Brothers. It's five bucks, but admission is purportedly free if you're wearing "Iced Down Fubu Leg Warmers and Hypercolor Spandex Biker Shorts." Since this is also sponsored by "Rammin' 59.9," I'm assuming that's a joke, but just in case, I'm totally wearing a fake Hitler moustache by Baby Phat. JS
SOMETHING CORPORATE, JULIANA THEORY, THE RED WEST, VENDETTA RED
(B Complex, 320 SE 2nd)
For a mere $12, one can buy a Something Corporate thong from their handy website, which--just in case you are worried about such things--has secure online ordering. The only downside is that according to the site, it takes 3-8 weeks for delivery. Two months to mail me my thong, what the fuck? I want my Something Corporate butt floss now, goddammit! Headliners Juliana Theory are Christians, so they probably don't approve of the sale of sexy, sexy thongs. But they prove a band can love The Jeeb and sell some product as well, so they still have plenty of merch for us kids on their "official" store--including a hoodie with an American flag on it ($30) and a cheesy-looking windbreaker ($40). Since all four bands on tonight's bill are products of desperate, debt-riddled, major labels looking to grasp onto some sort of youth target market, the merchandise these bands sell is more tangible than the vapid music they create. You don't need to actually listen to any of them, just be sure to send some e-cards, download the promotional screensavers, and slide your ass into their ridiculous thongs or overpriced windbreakers. It doesn't matter, you're all faceless consumers to them anyway. CM
N2DEEP, RIDAH OF MOB FIGAZ
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th)
See MWBW pg 13
SATURDAY 1/25
NILE, NAPALM DEATH, DARK TRANQUILITY, STRAPPING YOUNG LAD, THE BERSERKER
(Roseland)
Sad but true, when Jason Newsted joined Voivod late last year, the band cancelled all their appearances on this otherwise still devastating tour. Not that their streamlined prog would mesh particularly well with such a phalanx of modern heavyweights anyway. Devin Townsend brings his most brutal incarnation, Strapping Young Lad, down from B.C. for some industrial crush that makes Godflesh and Ministry sound out-of-date and underfed. Nile wave the flag of faux-Egyptian metal filtered through well researched Cthulhu/Lovecraft gibberish. Grandfather clausers Napalm Death may have lost their landspeed record title, but prove themselves still vital simply for having never slowed down or sold out. NATHAN CARSON
RAFFI
(Keller Auditorium, SW 3rd & Clay)
If Raffi ever loses it and pulls a Mariah Carey, I think I'll feel partly to blame. Last summer, I interviewed the kiddiecore troubadour about his latest CD, Let's Play. Things were going smoothly. I had my feet up on the desk, the phone rested between my shoulder and cheek while I messed with a Rubik's Cube and drank some shitty herbal tea. We were good. We were buddies. Then, smarty pants me spilled hot tea in my lap. "Oh FUCKING ... fuck son-of-a-b mrrrragh ha-hot FUCK!" I yelled. Silence. Raffi was PULVERIZED. He recovered and politely answered the rest of my questions, but still, I can't help but feel part of the Raf died that day. Sorry kids. I suck. ADAM GNADE
BRAINWARMER, NEQUAQUAM VACUJUM, P.A.N., SUBMARINE FLEET
(Jasmine Tree, 401 SW Harrison)
Get ready for some experimental music, but don't be scared: it's not TOO experimental. Brainwarmer does some howling and crumpled paper noise, but lovely vocals and some down-home catchy pop songs keep them grounded in the realm of access. Submarine Fleet has been described as "melancholic dronecore," which is a bit harsh-sounding (especially since I found that description at the website for their label, Three Headed Goat), but also valid. Don't expect to tap your feet to its sound, but rather bask in a glow of spacey, endless ambiance. JWS
HOT HOT HEAT, THE WALKMEN, THE JOGGERS, HINT HINT
(Hollywood Theater, 4122 NE Sandy)
See MWBW pg 13
THE INTIMA, THE ROOTS OF ORCHIS, SWEET SCEIENCE, GOOD FOR COWS
(Blackbird)
I almost destroyed the Intima a couple months ago. See, they were staying at my pal John Stafford's place after their San Diego show, and par for the course of that house, there was an obnoxious party going on, so a couple Intimas crashed in the backroom downstairs, while the singer grabbed a sleeping bag, bade us goodnight, and took off for canyon behind the house. Couple hours--and a couple six-packs--later, I decided it would be a "good idea" to throw John's bike into the canyon. Just for yux. Good timesy violence. Next morning, I found out the bike tumbled down the slope and landed a FOOT from where the dude was sleeping. I coulda killed him, which would've sucked because I really dig his band. (Imagine Unwound raised on Irish jigs.) Also, bring your ticket stub from the Hot Hot Heat show and get in free. Hot hot damn! AG
DEAD MOON, FIREBALLS OF FREEDOM, MUDDY RIVER NIGHTMARE BAND
(Ash Street)
Since Dead Moon are the standard bearers of Portland rock and, man, they export that dirty noise all over the world, it's a must to catch them when they do a hometown gig. Can you believe Fred Cole has been in bands for nearly 40 years? One time, in the mid-'60s, his band The Lollipop Shoppe were supposed to open for the Yardbirds at the Fillmore in San Francisco, but when they showed up, nobody knew who they were. They decided to hightail it to Canada (draft-dodging), but they had no money for gas or even food, so they raided the onion farms they drove past and survived on onions for five days. They finally ran out of gas in Portland, ended up at a club called The Folk Singer, and that's where Fred met his future wife and bass player Toody. That is so ROCK N' ROLL! TED THIEMAN
SUNDAY 1/26
ISDIFF SHOWCASE: PHOPLEX, DAMPKRANE, ML
(Blackbird)
A relatively new local label, IsDiff essentially promotes those foraging for truth in the darkest parts of IDM. One of tonight's featured performers is Dampkrane, who makes layers of beat-oriented electronics, although it's not beat-oriented in the definitive sense--his bass sounds like matches burning, his sub-bass is clipped and bouncing, his percussion scrapes like sandpaper, his melodies are inverted and free-floating. It verges more on the linear end of things rather than the innovative cut-ups of Blevin Blechdom or Nathan Michel, but it's nice to hear music so animated and inspired, especially in a genre that has the potential to sound so mega-'90s. JS
THE HUNCHES, ANGRY ANIMALS, STOCKYARDSTORIES, CRIMINAL CLASS USA
(Satyricon)
See Music pg 13
MONDAY 1/27
IRVING, EARLIMART, VIRGIL SHAW, TRACKER
(Blackbird)
Irving plays peppy indiepop that will undoubtedly get you in a better mood, unless of course you can't stand things that are cute. The singer occasionally lets you hear his voice crack or the smack of drying saliva in his mouth, which annoys me, but they're more Beatle-esque songs like the one that goes "L-O-V-E I love you" are--if you can stand the cliché--a toe-tapping good time. KATIE SHIMER
STEVE EARLE & THE DUKES, GARRISON STARR
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside)
See MWBW pg 13
THE MINOR THIRDS, BRONWYN, THE CULOTTES, MILK
(Meow Meow)
For those who love the slightly crooked, strolling pop of The Culottes, here's your chance to see them in a different setting; vocalist/pianist Liza Stillhard is on holiday, so The Chase cellist Melissa Collins and ex-Dimes bassist Meredith Butner will join vocalist/guitarist Iris Porter and drummer Jeremy Romagna. Milk is the moniker for Sexy Girlfriend, which is the moniker for one Arturo Diaz, who not only makes dreamy vocals as the drummer in Finesse, but can soothe on his own, with a collection of chalky pop as a heart salve. JS
TUESDAY 1/28
THORN CITY IMPROV
(Ash Street)
Check out this weekly freewheelin', freestylin', high-climbin', mile-highin' hiphop extravaganza featuring Portland staples like the Chosen, Sleep, Destro, Oldominion, Boom Bap Project, and more! DJ Marquez spins the beats. JWS
WEDNESDAY 1/29
CURSIVE, THE VELVET TEEN, RACE FOR TITLES
(Meow Meow)
Back for Cursive's first Portland show in two years--the last gig was cancelled after their vocalist, one-time Portlander Tim Kasher, had a lung collapse (he's all better now, thank goodness)--their music is much tougher, with Kasher's addled, crackly vocals plowing parallel to the band's cello and melodic yet subtly muscular guitars. Basically, you know all the pained sentiment dudes like Dashboard et al try so desperately to squeeze from the shallow pits of their souls? Tim Kasher evokes that emotion with ease, intelligence, and authenticity by merely uttering a screamed, sung, or half-spoken syllable. Cursive's last show in PDX was attended by a sparse but dedicated all-ages crowd singing along to every iota of a lyric. After The Ugly Organ, their fourth full-length, is released this March, you can bet Cursive's next show will be equally as dedicated, but much, much bigger. JS
BURNT PLOSIVES, DISTANCE FORMULA, LAND CAMERA
(Berbati's)
A lineup of atmospheric scoring to films. Pretentious or no? See for yourself. KS
