THURSDAY 12/4

BENEFIT FOR ROCK & ROLL CAMP FOR GIRLS: DAHLIA, AMELIA, ASHLEIGH FLYNN, TWO LOONS FOR TEA, KATE WHITE, ANNIE VERGNETTI, PATRICIA JU
(Aladdin, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Even though Phil Stanford, columnist from my normally adored Portland Tribune, may try to convince his readers it's wack there's no "rock and roll camp for boys," those of us actually working in the music business (for lack of a better term) know that while ladies increasingly fill positions at PR companies and record labels, there's still a disconcerting lack of women players, even in the punk community (for instance, the last Michiganfest, a long-running punk festival outside Detroit, featured two lady performers--both keyboardists--out of around 60 bands). Long live the Rock and Roll Camp for Girls, and bless the ladies who play music to give them their money. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

SMEGMA, SIKHARA, 20 FT MAN
(IC Mummy, 332 NE San Rafael) The Radon label, which specializes in experimental music, is moving to the East Coast, and wants to say fare thee well with this last weekend of events. 20 Ft Man's combination of art and machine provides a fairly literal interpretation of its strange name. Smegma are miracles. Offhand, I can't think of another band in Portland that's been going at it for 40 years, let alone one that makes crazy noise music. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS

BACK 'N' FORTH
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) First Thursday house night is back! Dance it off with Dallas DJ Robert Taylor, plus the regs, Bonehead and Sir Round Sound. JS

SPIT-UP ANGELS, PRINCESS SWEEPSTAKES, RADIO BERLIN
(Million, 116 NE Russell) Much like their Vancouver BC peers in Hot Hot Heat, Radio Berlin will make you dance. But unlike HHH, the members of Radio Berlin do not have perms. I swear to Christ, if the cheesy male perm comes back in fashion I will take a Flowbee to each and every one I see--there is no excuse for that whatsoever. Anyway, Radio Berlin lean heavy on the goth tip, but it's more Bauhaus than clove cigarettes, and their deep vocals and beating synths will have you on the Million dance floor in no time. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

FRIDAY 12/5

MERCURY BRAINS & BRAWN TOURNAMENT STARRING STRATEGY, PARTY TIME
(Tonic, 3100 SE Sandy) Strategy gets mental-muscular on the Boggle, with bangin' techno tracks, and Party Time arm wrestles your smart metal magic into trip-over-yourself-good solos. Conveniently, each of tonight's musical performers represent the utter convergence of both the brainy and the brawny. That is why it is called "Brains and Brawn." Weird huh. JS

SUNSET VALLEY, TELEPHONE, LITTLE CHAMPIONS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) It's something like "Out of Hibernation" Eve, with Portland's old-school indierockists Sunset Valley making their first hometown appearance in quite some time, and Seattle's Little Champions who, last we heard, were doing a scrumptious harmonic pop in a manner of Tsunami. JS

MONDO GENERATOR, ENEMY, LIKEHELL
(Berbati's, 231 SE Ankeny) Queens of the Stone Age are one of the best heavy rock bands hitting the mainstream right now, and I would recommend anyone who loves them as much as I do to also pick up the latest Desert Sessions CD, Desert Sessions Vol. 9-10, Josh Homme's side project with a number of talented collaborators. I would not, unfortunately, recommend Mondo Generator, Nick Oliveri's project with drummer Brant Bjork (Kyuss, Fu Manchu), guitarist Dave Catching (QOTSA, earthlings?), and bassist Molly Maguire (earthlings?), which, despite being Oliveri's thing since 1997, fails to come across as anything but a really rough batch of demos played by a bunch of gods to the stoner rock world. JENNIFER MAERZ

THIRD ANGLE "SOUNDS ELECTRIC"
(Winningstad Theater, 1111 SW Broadway) "New Music" is a weird term, conjuring images of men in black turtlenecks watching people puke onstage and then applauding it as a masterpiece. Tonight, Third Angle New Music Ensemble takes a slightly different approach, playing electro-acoustic pieces by the first generation of composers to grow up with pop, as well as Pachelbel. Steve Mackey's Feels So Bad combines electric guitar, violin, marimba, and percussion, while Michael Daugherty's Sing, Sing, J. Edgar Hoover is scored for string quartet and tape. With these playful pieces programmed along Eve Beglarian, whose music is aural poetry, and works by Randall Woolf, Third Angle has created a concert with new music worth becoming old. STEVEN LANKENAU

SATURDAY 12/6

Z100 JINGLE BELL BALL: BLAQUE, AEMON, MAROON5, SIMPLE PLAN, STACIE ORRICO
(Roseland) A strange and disconnected bill ole Z100 put together. You might hold out 'till tomorrow and drive to Tacoma for their bigger bash (including much of the same bill, but with heartbreaking dancehall superstar Sean Paul), unless you are a gigantic fan of Blaque, which is possible. Yes, they crib Destiny's Child's style, but they did in fact sing the line "I'll be goin' boom like an 808." Nice. JS

PDX ARTXX: FRESH MEAT, SLEETMUTE NIGHTMUTE, TERRIFICK, KRMTX, MORE
(Million) Okay, the band to see at this show is Terrifick, a new Portland black metal band spawned of Ron (from the Get Hustle) and Rosy Cross (an entity who bleeds from the eyes), I somehow suspect they'll have a competent grasp on the dark side. See also: PDX regulars Sleetmute/Nightmute and embrace the chaos of loud noize. KATIE SHIMER

STEVE MACKAY AND THE RADON ENSEMBLE, BLOOD AND TIME, SORIAH
(Jasmine Tree, 401 SW Harrison) This show is huge. First, Steve Mackay (adventurous saxophonist from The Stooges, Residents) will combine with the Radon Ensemble, improvising apparently, or perhaps tearing loops into the fabric of time. Blood and Time, Neurosis' Scott Kelly and Noah Landis, experiment with electro-acoustic psychedelia. If you need more gravity than that, Soriah will make it so. He not only an accomplished and really pretty amazing throat singer, but the man knows ambiance from Adam, darkening the room so his throaty hums hit you right in the gully. JS

JUDGE JULES, JOSH BANKS, DJ WIGGLES, ANDREW GONZALES
(Level, 13 NW 6th) London-based Judge Jules must be one of those DJs who have teams of personal assistants just to look after their insane schedules. Jules' empire-building includes the usual production and remix work, DJ gigs at the world's poshest clubs, and promoting his hugely popular Judgement Sundays night in Ibiza for affluent trance fanatics. But the 38-year-old jock also finds time to host a BBC radio show, write for several music mags, appear on television with some frequency, maintain an info-rich website, and participate in many charitable organizations. Dubbed "the people's DJ," Jules has moved countless humans with arena-sized trance, progressive house, and soccer-stadium techno in several places you'd have trouble finding on a map (Abu Dhabi, anyone?). As with any DJ this popular, Jules probably won't challenge you with innovative selections, but for his three hours on the decks, he'll surely drop past, current, and future anthems. DAVE SEGAL

POISON IDEA, THE ACCUSED, SADO-NATION
(Ash Street) Fuck. Poison Idea AND the Accused? Holy shit, did I wake up in 1983É AGAIN? So, I dunno how to say how much I LOVE the Accused and Poison Idea. Like, if I could, I'd give both groups burpy beer tongue kisses and big Pig Champion size snuggle bunny hugs!! And why not, they deserve it, they've cranked out the HEAVY hardcore for EVER! So show up and show some love! Hell, they learned how to rock, so you wouldn't have to! Oh, and with that Cradle/Type O show tonight, the frat boys are less inclined show up for "mosh" practice. MIKE "UNKEY NIPS" NIPPER

DJ FIXX, 5-OH!-3, SIDESTEP, SIRKUTZ, KIPPY, SOULKID, VIZE
(Ohm, 31 NW 1st) Headed up by Playhouse/Fixt co-founder DJ Fixx, tonight, all your funky breakbreat dreams come true. Already having produced like 9,000 singles this year, he could just play his own tracks and fill up a whole set. JS

TYPE O NEGATIVE, CRADLE OF FILTH, MOONSPELL
(Crystal) Comedians have made sport of the goth scene before (see Saturday Night Live's sullen talk-show hosts Circy Nightshade and Azrael Abyss), but there's never been a full-length, black-draped Spinal Tap update. At first glance, it's difficult to see how writers have passed up such fertile subject matter, instead delivering the likes of Azrael actor Chris Kattan's Corky Romano. But upon further inspection, it becomes clear why such a project has never materialized--it would be almost impossible to create a fictional band that's more amusingly eccentric than Type O Negative. In concert, the group's underrated vocalist Peter Steele, looking every bit the Conan-meets-Dracula behemoth his booming delivery promises, proves he's as quick with a tasteless one-liner as the Cryptkeeper. Type O also excels at moribund makeovers, marrying '60s psychedelia with modern doom-metal on "Summer Breeze" and "Light My Fire." ANDREW MILLER

GLAM PORTLAND TWO-YEAR ANNIVERSARY: LOVELY, JACKIE, MA FORD, COCAINE UNICORN
(Kelly's Olympian, 426 SW Washington) From what I've gathered, Glam Portland is less an organization and more like some kind of stupid email thing. Strange, coming from bands like Jackie, and Cocaine Unicorn who, in my eyes, epitomize mod hipness and balls-out fun. The world is mysterious. Regardless, Jackie's pristine pop is party music for sure, and Cocaine Unicorn's melodies both shock and rock; just try to refrain from humping the stage when you see that super hot tall guy. Or maybe I'm talking to myself. KS

DJ AUDIO ONE, DJ WICKED, DJ MAGNETO
(Momo's) You don't have to be an audiophile to get down with DJ Audio One. Mixing cuts from Tribe, Gangstarr, KRS One, you'll actually be familiar with his playlist, without ever rolling your eyes (ie: No "Funky Cold Medina"). KS

SUNDAY 12/7

PORTASTATIC, BLUES GOBLINS
(Dante's) Solo projects are usually best avoided for two reasons: they're self-indulgent (Looper) or they end up sounding identical to the primary band (Slash's Snake Pit). Therefore the cleverness required to pair two projects that defy this rule in opposite ways is pretty remarkable. Born in the familiar territory of indierock, both groups stray from this common ground towards unexpected sounds, one reaching for sophistication while the other gets his hands dirty. Sam Coomes hangs up the baroque magnificence of Quasi for the sore-throated clumsiness of Blues Goblins, while Superchunk's Mac McCaughan leaves behind that buzz in search of something more tender with Portastatic. ES

PIGFACE, DOPE, PROFESSIONAL MURDER MUSIC, RACHEL STAMP, DIABLO
(Roseland, NW 6th & Burnside) The idea of piling a bunch of gear and friends onstage and expecting something great is a little questionable. But with friends like Genesis P'Orridge, Steve Albini, Lydia Lunch, Trent Reznor, and Martin Atkinsâ Pigface has done pretty well for the last 13 years. Bad luck that, as they developed a sort of hard-edged experimental dancefloor sound, interest faded in the industrial-metal genre they were lumped into. Undaunted, Pigface has only grown busier, expanding its project by quietly recruiting legends and discovering new talent. They prepared for this tour with two new records, new gear, and the same unnerving tenacity that got them this far. ETHAN SWAN

PDX ARTXX: SILENTIST, EL GOXXIP, SILVER PALM, A.S.T., SKIN CULTURE, MORE
(Million) ARTXX: because it's fucking cold outside. Tonight's installment delights all the children as Million is transformed into a winter wonderland of gingerbread cookies (the sludgy, dark punk of Silver Palm), peppermint twists (the tingling art metal of Silentist), and warm roasted chestnuts (aka your chode after dancing yr ass off to El Goxxip). ISN'T WINTER LOVELY! JS

SUBARACHNOID SPACE, DMBQ, ROLLERBALL, GRAILS
(Berbati's) Subarachnoid Space float to the outer reaches of space rock, using subtle recalculations of chord repetition and walls of white noise to thoroughly scramble your brain. The San Francisco-based band is heavily psychedelic, and you can get lost in any one of their tripped-out compositions, especially as they build and break intensity with enough effects to completely warp your sense of who's making what vibrate. They've got a dark-side-of-Pink Floyd meets Slowdive thing going on, locking you into dense grooves amid squalls of squiggly feedback. JM

MONDAY 12/8

LIVING SCIENCE FOUNDATION, HEADPHONE
(Kelly's Olympian) HeadphoneÉ shiny nailpolishÉ sleeping with someone who knows what's upÉ these are the joys of life. A combo of keyboard-based screamo and electronic hardcore that avoids pooling into a chaotic mess, Headphone are the kind of band that actually make me want to dance--dance like someone escaped from the insane asylum--but isn't that the best way? KS

JUVENILE
(Roseland) After Southern rapper Juvenile backed his azz up right out of Cash Money Records, New Orleans' OGs of bling (literally, as Cash Money rapper BG coined the term) for allegedly screwing him out of dough, he's back next month with Juve the Great, his reportedly last record on Cash Money/Universal. As you know, Universal is a company with a reputation for its high moral ground, fair treatment of the people, and turkeys-to-the-needy program during the holiday season. I can't imagine why Juvenile would want to start his own label, UTP Records, after dealing with such an upstanding pillar of the music business. JS

THE PLANET THE, COBRA HIGH, SQUIRREL MEAT
(Million) Keyboard-driven Cobra High have been touring like madmen, opening for their biggest fans, Pretty Girls Make Graves. PGMG bassist Derek Fudesco, who put out the four-piece's Sunset in the Eye of the Hurricane on his Cold Crush Records label, tells me that Cobra High have three new songs to play at tonight's show--songs that he claims "beat the shit out of anything [Cobra High] has written before." I'll take his word for it. KATHLEEN WILSON

TUESDAY 12/9

THOMAS FEHLMANN (OF THE ORB), DANIEL METEO, NUDGE
(Holocene) This is one of those shows Holocene was opened for: to seat Portland on the bleeding edge of electronic music, giving us a chance to experience world-renowned phenoms we'd normally have to fly to Chicago or San Francisco to witness. Tonight, we should feel profoundly lucky for the opportunity to host Swiss electronic producer Thomas Fehlmann's only Pacific Northwest performance. Fehlmann is a rare bird in that he's a pioneer who's still more than relevant. Having started his career in the '80s chopping tape and making avant-dance in Palais Schaumburg, and transitioning through the '90s with ambient house mainstays The Orb, Fehlmann's recent work, Visions of Blah (released on Kompakt, Germany's one-stop hub of all things fantastic and tiny-tech oriented), breaks bread with entire electronic realms--minimal techno, funky microhouse, ambient dubscapes--all with the deft, ear-pleasing hand of a master. Cherish it now, thank the Holocene fellows later. JS

NATE
(Voodoo Doughnut, 22 SW 3rd) Continuing the Church of Doughnut, Nate will do his thang, which may or may not include: getting maxx bluesy on the riffs, dressing up in a hot dog suit, belting out the delta sass, swinging that guitar like it was gyration station. Yes, it's that Nate: Natron, Frank Furter Nate. What happens when you cross a hot dog with a doughnut? I don't know, but the Voodoo dudes probably do. JS

RANCID, AFI
(Crystal) Rancid's walking-wounded stint on this year's Warped Tour offered sobering proof of the once-cocky band's vulnerability. One singer/guitarist, Tim Armstrong, still seemed shell-shocked from his bitter divorce with Distillers frontwoman Brody Dalle. The other, Lars Fredriksen, suffered from a painful degenerative disc disease. And Skinhead Rob, the rappin' roadie to ruin who poisoned Armstrong's promising Transplants project, plagued "Red Hot Moon," the lone new song the group previewed at its early-summer sets. Fortunately, that was the only Rob cameo on Indestructible, the alternately poignant and robust release that rose from all this wreckage. With its concerts now bolstered by such confident new material, Rancid's shows should regain their surefire swagger. AM

CHIMAIRA, SOILWORK, BLEEDING THROUGH, AS I LAY DYING
(Meow Meow ) Bleeding Through's guitars and drums shoot in submachine-gun bursts, so quick and steady in their aim they're over almost before they've fired. The instrumentation is the staccato shrapnel of hardcore and black metal, hooking up with melody in the form of dark choir-of-angels background atmospherics. Vocally, though, these guys go for the less interesting demon-puking thing, a gruff delivery that makes the frontman sound like his tongue's swollen the size of a fist and his vocal cords are covered in sandpaper. JENNIFER MAERZ

WEDNESDAY 12/10

AESOP ROCK, MR. LIF, AKROBATIK, DJ FAKTSONE, SA SMASH
(Aladdin) Rock is hiphop's final tactic, its last desperate attempt to revive its bloated body, which has all but one mic-grasping hand in the grave. Art history begins with Leonardo da Vinci and ends with a genius of scribbles on the crumbling walls of New York City; hiphop begins with Grandmaster Flash and ends somewhere around Aesop Rock, whose raps foam and froth in the Blade Runner-dark of his twisted inner world. Def Jux rules the underground. CHARLES MUDEDE