TELL IT TO THE OLCC In an effort to shove their sense of morality down our throats, last year the Oregon Liquor Control Commission (OLCC) set in place a "no minor entertainer" rule. Under the new law, no one under the age 21 was allowed to work in a bar, club or tavern. "No one" includes strippers, musicians, and even electricians! But they screwed up! The OLCC forgot to follow the correct ruling-making rules. As a result, they need to re-do the entire process. This includes a public hearing this Monday. Anyone who has been affected by the rule--dancers, musicians, fans--should stop by and give their opinion or input.
For more information, contact Bruce Fife, spokesperson for the local musicians' union, 235-8791 or
bfife@afm99.org . Or, just show up on Monday at OLCC headquarters, 9079 SE McLoughlin Blvd, 10 am. (Proceedings will last all day.)
Comments may also be submitted by mail or fax: American Federation of Musicians, Local 99, 325 NE 20th Ave, Portland 97232; or, fax to: (503) 872-5110. PHIL BUSSE
THURSDAY 11/20
SILVER PALM, A.S.T., DJ MAXAMILLION
(Fast Forward, 6616 NE MLK) Those articles about the fertile, early 1980s NYC scene all contain the same story--you had to go to the club every night or else you'd be passé by the end of the week. Portland's equivalent to this is Fast Forward, where each youth underground movement of the last four years has made its NW debut. And although it's possible to reminisce about chipped teeth and nights of postpunk-electro-noise, it's more important to go see the new music that has no name yet. Tonight's troublemakers are Silver Palm and A.S.T., both of whom contain more than a few familiar faces from groups like Glass Candy, Sleetmute Nightmute, KY, and the Formless. Crybabies might complain about bands breaking up faster than you can see them, but hipsters know not to blow opportunities. ETHAN SWAN
KRISTIN HERSH, HOWE GELB, ANDREW BIRD
(Aladdin, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Andrew Bird's Weather Systems came out this year, and he recorded the whole thing alone in this barn, and he whistles like I always wished I could whistle. Not like "HEY! C'MERE!" kind of whistle, but the kind of whistling that wins national whistling championships, which is probably why he pretends that his last name is Bird. Unless he's not pretending. I digress. This alt-songster's tear-jerking lyrical tapestries and soft-woven olde tymey violin accompaniment compliment any rainstorm mopeout (or makeout) session gorgeously. JOAN HILLER
ANTIBALAS, DJ MELLO CEE
(Lola's, 1332 W Burnside) In the '70s, the musical genius and political activist Fela Kuti (who died in 1997 from AIDS) created a big African sound that matched the funk of James Brown with the passion of Nigerian Afropop. His songs lasted 20 to 30 minutes, involving a galaxy of performers who orbited the artistic soul of the usually bare-chested Fela Kuti. Though the subject of his songs tended to be grim (the consequences of colonial rule, army brutality), the music was as bright and packed as a block party. After Kuti there is Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra. With this 15-piece band, whose wonderful CD Talkatif was released early this year, Lagos meets Brooklyn. More social than personal, more outside than inside, more flesh than spirit, the Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra is dedicated to the basics of the groove. CHARLES MUDEDE
THE CIVIES, NO RED FLAGS, LOW TOLERANCE
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) Localites No Red Flags don't seem to have an agenda outside of the typical punk anarchist fuck-shit-up motif. Not out to change the world, all they have to offer is rip-roaring, sped-up vocals from Mike and Jason Smith (yup: brothers), and insanely catchy power riffs. These guys just want to rock your world. Is that such a crime? JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS
PLAID, LUKE VIBERT, CHRIS CLARK, N.E.D.
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) If I had any formal understanding of music, then perhaps I would realize exactly how clever classically-trained electronic musician Chris Clark is. For now, I'm happy to surrender to his gray skies, but be ecstatic when he allows the sun to shine through. On his latest LP, Empty the Bones of You, Clark relies a little more on those wet sounds that make Aphex Twin so unnerving, but in his overcast world they're better read as damp. The tracks unfold effortlessly into epic narratives, begging to be made into movies filmed entirely at dusk. ES
FRIDAY 11/21
ROCKET FROM THE TOMBS, THE HUNCHES
(Lola's at the Crystal, 7 pm) What can I say... THIS IS HISTORY! Cleveland's Rocket From The Tombs were a punk band in '75 before "punk" meant "Sex Pistols," "moshing," or "vegan!" Like, RFTT was a buncha smartass pricks who played ROCK and ROLL without pretense... you know, jeans, T-shirt, no-frills typeÉ and whose members later formed Pere Ubu AND the Dead Boys. SHIT! Um, tho' this ain't the original line-up, it's close enough... Dave Thomas, Craig Bell and Cheetah Chrome are RFTT alumni... with Richard Lloyd from TELEVISION and Steve Mehlman from Ubu! If you have any clue about the rock called "punk," you'd be a fool to miss this. MIKE NIPPER
JOHN FAHEY TRIBUTE
(Old Church, 1422 SW 11th) Phil Kellogg's third annual tribute to the memory of John Fahey is the first to take place on Fahey's home turf. In what could be the strongest lineup yet, an impressive range of guitarists will be performing, each of whom owes a special debt to Fahey's creativity and passion. Peter Lang and Rick Ruskin each released their debut recordings on Takoma Records nearly 30 years ago, both working in the American primitive tradition that Fahey spearheaded. Shortly after his arrival in the U.S., Vietnam native Tinh Mahoney met the guitarist and the two musicians spent months in a basement exchanging songs and ideas. Oregon natives Terry Robb and Paul Chasman round out the tribute, respectively lending blues and classical styles. ES
ARAB STRAP, MALCOLM MIDDLETON, DAHLIA
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Bands from Scotland have a way with making sadness into truly beautiful songs, demonstrating the difference between small, brittle acoustic-guitar sadness and big, swollen so-sad-it's-almost-kinda-funny sadness. Arab Strap's 1998 release Philophobia is one of those swollen albums, the kind that makes you feel better about your life for a song or two until one comes along--and it always does--that kicks you in the soft spot, leaving you with another purply-green bruise. KATHLEEN WILSON
RAILER, EMULSION, HIGH BLUE STAR,
MORTAL CLAY
(Paris, 6 SW 3rd) According to my dirty Spanish phrase hook-up, way to say "the devil's asshole" en Castellano is "el culo del Diablo." Speaking of George W. Bush, Railer is currently wrapping up a tour, during which they mean to raise awareness about the fraudulent voting technologies that will hand over the presidency to Bush in election coup, part deux. As for Railer, Portland's self-anointed "rockwave" band, they sound like a thin version of '90s shoegazer pop bands like Pale Saints, Field Mice/Trembling Blue Stars, Even as We Speak--except the vague Brit accents are fake, and they have guitar solos. JULIANNE SHEPHERD
WET CONFETTI, THE MOTIVE, INVISIBLE
(Stumptown Downtown, 128 SW 3rd, free) Wet Confetti have adopted more of a Sonic Youth punk aesthetic, which is fun and fits with their off-key vocals. And espresso fits well with their uptempo drumming, so you might even leave this show feeling peppy. (Sidenote: It's free.) KATIE SHIMER
THE WEAKLINGS, THE CURSES, THE SHACKELS, LOPEZ
(Ash Street) Oh yeahÉ this is some punk rocks, garage style... in a good way, not the MTV kind. So, like, I promise there will be no poses of any kind which seem to say, "Hey dudes, let's return to rock" via some indierock shill dressed head to toe with a pretense of peppermint who is attempting to pass as one of US. Dig? Um... this'll be more like drinkin' lots of cheap beer till you vomit through your nose and a pig pile on the one you love most! MIKE NIPPER
SATURDAY 11/22
MA FORD, GREEN CIRCLES
(PCAC, Holman Building, 49 SE Clay) With ease and confidence, the drone rockin' young people of Ma Ford skillfully weave a mixture of swaggering riffs, mournful ballads, and jealousy-inspiring good looks that are sure to land them on the cover of something or other by this time next year. Come tonight and be the first to congratulate them on their probable and well-deserved success. Green Circles were the A/V club at rock 'n' roll high school. Their incorporation of synths with angular guitars and dance-inspired rhythms makes one think this is at least one possible meaning of intelligent dance music. KIP BERMAN
PLACEBO, EAGLES OF DEATH METAL
(Crystal) The consensus among my brain particles is that Eagles of Death Metal, the side project of Queens of the Stone Age's Josh Homme, should change their name to Eagles of Death, and their cheeky lo-fi rock music is dope. Rarely does it come along anymore, but this is upbeat rock music you can dance to, and it's not cheesy, unless you mean cheesy in a good way. Placebo are ambiguously gay, serious-looking electro rockers who rock the shit out of Europe. KS
PASSION: SYZE, JADE BASSIX & SYKE,
MISS ILL, MENA, FLUTTERBY, MORE
(Cool School, 13 NW 13th) Yeah! Sister PDX (www.sisterpdx.com) is the Portland offshoot of Sister SF (www.sistersf.com), a supportive and unique fabric of ladies teaching each other the essentials of DJing. For Passion, the Sisterhood takes control of the Cool School, with PDX lady DJs throwing down an amalgamation of house, trance, progressive, breaks, electro, jungle, and D&B. It's like a tidal wave after a drought! And for those of you who simply can't cope with a night sans testosterone, there'll be 12 dudes in the basement "Bachelor Pad" spinning everything from happy hardcore to raga beats. Word up to the ladies. JS
BOBBY BIRDMAN, Y.A.C.H.T., [[VVRRSSNN]], DJ HOT AIR BALLOON, TWINE
(Holocene) Ann Arbor, Michigan indie Ghostly International's become one of those labels DJs and knowledgeable heads obsessively follow. Its excellent roster illuminates the fringes of techno, microhouse, glitch hop, industrial, and the nexus where post-rock meets IDM. Twine, one of GI's recent signings, exemplifies the imprint's ethos of creating music that's as distinctive as a person's constellation of birthmarks. Twine's new self-titled disc is fathoms-deep electro-organic experimentation ("Ethereal 4AD rock for the clicks 'n' cuts generation" is the crass blurb I'd slap on the shrink-wrapped CD sticker) that will haunt you for hours. DAVE SEGAL
EAST COAST BOOGIEMEN, LAWNCHAIR GENERALS, DONALD GLAUDE, RNA
(Level, 13 NW 6th) Ken Christensen and Juan Zapata, aka East Coast Boogiemen, get bonkers on a 3X6 set tonight, which means the junkin' soulful house will be totally nutzoid with theque-in' folks chomping at the bit to flash some fancy footwork. With albums from Moonshine and Brique Rouge and remix work for Q-Burns Abstract Message and Robbie Hardkiss under their belts, everybody wants to get with the four-impeccably-funky-ears-on-the-floor. JS
THE CLOROX GIRLS, THE FLIP TOPS,
THE TYRADES, THE TRIGGERS
(Twilight, 1420 SE Powell) The Clorox Girls are refreshing in their simplicity after being bombarded with a billion twists and takes on punk rock. Punk disco, punk rap, punk country, folk punk, punk klezmer. So the fact that their instruments sound cheap, they don't play very tightly, and they do that pseudo British accent, enunciated singing/whining thing is actually a nice change of pace. MARJORIE SKINNER
SUNDAY 11/23
DAVID BROMBERG, CALEB KLAUDER
(Aladdin) In the song "Demon in Disguise," David Bromberg sang the words "Don't let false estimations rule... and stand beside me when you measure my height." Thirty years down the line, people are still having a hard time approaching the work of a songwriter who will go from a folk classic to Chicago blues, only to follow with a pedal-steel driven country song. Unhindered by boundaries, Bromberg ties his songs together thematically, building them around a love for life, no matter how sordid, filthy, or brutal the living is. ES
ANBOT RODROID, THEFORREALS, DAN JONES
(Twilight) Outsider artist Peter Degroot (aka Anbot) makes a rare extra-batcave appearance to celebrate the release of the 10th (!) Anbot Rodroid album, Cyputer Comborgs. It's his first to feature a full band since late '90s incarnation Imps of Spring. Space pop structures are crafted with the experience of a man who's written literally hundreds of songs in the last decade, and the phantasy lyrics of giants, gnomes, and circuitous space beings are ever present. If Kraftwerk had spent more of the '80s skateboarding in California, this might be the result. But they'd have to hire the Syd Barrett of today to write lyrics this bent. NATHAN CARSON
MONDAY 11/24
CAPPADONNA, KILLAH PRIEST, REMEDY
(Berbati's, 231 SW Ankeny) The titles of most rap tours promise victory, triumph or domination, so it's refreshing that this teaming of modest Wu-Tang-associated talents bills itself accurately as "Struggle." That's also the title of chronically flow-impaired headliner Cappadonna's latest album, his first release on a micro-indie since getting dumped from his label and relieved from official-Clan-member status. 'Donna showed promise during his Wu cameos, but in a solo setting, his meandering, off-beat style meshed poorly with RZA's mystical backdrops. Killah Priest, similarly stripped of major-label standing, abandoned his trademark philosophical poetic musings on his latest disc to try on an ill-fitting playa persona. Remedy, the white sheep of the Wu family, has never reached even the moderate peaks from which his tourmates have fallen, but his live set might shine flattering light on his sporadically riveting lyrics. ANDREW MILLER
BENEFIT FOR DUB NARCOTIC SOUND SYSTEM: NUDGE, ALARMIST, THE BADGER KING, SILENTIST, VALET, THANKSGIVING, MORE
(Meow Meow, 527 SE Pine) As you may know, the DNSS had a bad car accident earlier this year. They're all okay now, but they're shouldering some serious hospital bills because, like 98% of America, they have no health insurance. One thing they do have, however, is an abundance of musician friends. Tonight, drop a little dough into the DIY HMO, and see glitch pop bands, noise bands, rock bands, and Portland's stoke-afarian rocktronica supertrio Nudge. JS See Music pg XX
KMFDM W/PIG
(Roseland, NW 6th & Burnside) In the early '90s I used to drive around with my hesher friend in his Monte Carlo and listen to the driving angry industrial of KMFDM. The last time I saw said hesher he had just bought KMFDM's latest album, WWIII, which has been called "a return to 1992." Even though my memories of those afternoon drives are fond, I would personally never want to return to 1992. But for those who do, behold: a time warp. KS
TUESDAY 11/25
EVERGREEN TERRACE, GLASSEATER, CALICO SYSTEM, SUMARA, REFLUX
(Meow Meow) The Simpsons remains the most consistently brilliant program on the air. However, the show's merchandise, from "Do the Bartman" cassingles to "Cowabunga" T-shirts, often fails to reproduce its rapier wit. Punky tributes to the show's tunes proved fruitless on the zine-sponsored compilation This Is Springfield, Not Shelbyville, and the hardcore group Milhouse scored about as often as its titular character. However, Evergreen Terrace proves that bands that reference The Simpsons need not both suck and blow. Alternating melodic hooks with bludgeoning beatdowns, E.T. batters convincingly without sacrificing sing-along appeal. As its album title Losing All Hope is Freedom implies, the group doesn't offer much comic relief; for that, you'll have to rely on the Disco Stu dance moves of the Nelson Muntz-like moshers. AM
SERVER X, BETTIE FORD, STABITHA
(Dante's) Bettie Ford have that velvety, bluesy, on-the-rocks quality that is a little reminiscent of Heart or Concrete Blonde, except with rawer guitars. This is mostly thanks to Heather, the singer, whose low range growls soulfully and wails all uppity, like she's gonna dish out the sass. MS
WEDNESDAY 11/26
BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE,
THE OUT CROWD, JACKIE, COCAINE UNICORN
(Berbati's) I feel guilty quoting The Faint but dudes, your retro career is muh muh muh melted. Brian Jonestown Massacre chaps my hide and I just can't hide it. Nostalgia blows. Aural grave-robbing blows. Retro posing blows. naming your band after a Rolling Stone and then SOUNDING LIKE THEM blows. Song-titles like "Prozac vs. Heroin," off their new rec And This Is Our Music, blows. But hey, if you like dorksville retro robbery, welcome to your new favorite band's world. Have fun, honky. Say "hey" to Wavy Gravy for me. ADAM GNADE
SONDRE LERCHE, RACHAEL YAMAGATA
(Lola's) Isn't it wonderful that chamber pop is common these days? There was a time, back in Ye Olde Days of the mid-'90s, when bright pop lovers had to mine the past or sidestep the ass-backward religious beliefs of Eric Matthews in order to get a modern fix. Norwegian man-boy Sondre Lerche hit the sweet spot with 2002's Faces Down, a swoony collection of '60s-influenced pop tunes that vary in style--at times you can hear his fondness for the Beatles. KATHLEEN WILSON
THE VEXERS, FIREBALLS OF FREEDOM, THE RIFFS
(Dante's) The Vexers have a nice enough, low-slung, danceable rhythm to them, but what's really catchy is Jennifer Taylor's acidic vocal style. It's all tough and retro sounding, like she's part robot and part Wendy O. Don't take Fireballs Of Freedom for granted just because they seem to play every other weekend. Their psychedelic rock freakouts are fun, especially when they get to the parts in their songs where they sound like they're being tickled with food processors. MS
