THURSDAY 1/29

PRETTY GIRLS MAKE GRAVES, THE PRIDS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) A couple years ago I saw the Prids and didn't really get it. The music reminded me of all those serious bands that my friend with the low voice and the hair over his eyes in high school tried to play for me when I was listening to MTX and Weston. But last summer I bought their record. Holy shit. "Love Zero" is the most beautiful song--it makes me well up--I want to be super lame and put it on a tape for someone. I mean, I won't--but it still rules me immensely. And they rock like a rock band, even though they dress like my friend with the low voice and the hair in his eyes. If you need another reason to love the Prids, they are originally from Nebraska and approximately 1 bigillion times more awesome than The Faint. KIP BERMAN

MANIC D, GUZU, SANTOTZIN, DRON, VILLAGE ELLIOT, PAPERCUTS, SLEEPYHEAD
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) Prepare yourself for Sage Francis's forthcoming "Fuck Clear Channel" Tour: get with some local heads who flow politically over abstract dynamics, spitting slick venom at the government like they got a bazooka in their beats. Guzu's recent release, Unabashed Skeptic, features local luminaries like emcee Dron, DJ Void, Brown Recluse's Santotzin, AfroQben, Fogatron, and demure torchy vocalist Jaime Lee Christiana--all on some seriously creative beat shinola, scratchy melodies lurking in shadowy corners and bass hits grimy as fuh. It's not all "smash the G.O.V.T.," though; check the haunting dubby flirtation in "Smile," wherein Guzu and Jaime Lee pinpoint dead-on the mating call of today. "Wanna work on a track together sometime?" is the new "Are you on Friendster?," so memorize it. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

HAZARD COUNTY GIRLS, THE JOLENES, SUGAR FREE, THE ROULETTES
(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) See Music pg 15

TRASH TRAIN, THE PLASTARDS, THE HIGH & THE MIGHTY
(Twilight, 1420 SE Powell) Some high-flying punkards fly high for the drunkards. The High and the Mighty are a trio of pretty normal-looking dudes who create a hell of a lot of noise and energy. There's an extremely good chance they won't change your life, but as far as tear-shit-up music goes, they're pretty fun. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS

THE KHANS, SPANISH FOR 100, YELTSIN
(Tonic, 3100 NE Sandy) One of the most miraculous things about music is its ability to ingratiate itself into one season or another. Summertime, for instance, is Led Zeppelin season, while gangsta rap screams "depth of winter." But Spanish for 100 makes winter the new summer, combining classic rock elements that echo Crosby, Stills & Nash and a decidedly modern indierock influence. They come out of this blender collecting acclaims for originality and heartfelt songwriting, carefully showcased on their recent debut album, Newborn Driving. Openers Yeltsin have the sexy, lazy, pop action going on. They manage to be both appealing and constantly teetering on the verge of completely sucking. Which is fun to watch. MARJORIE SKINNER

TARA JANE O'NEIL CD RELEASE, LIAR BIRD, CHERRY BLOSSOMS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Now a dyed-in-the-wool Portlander, Tara Jane O'Neil somehow found time to break from playing bass in tuff-gnarl metallists King Cobra, to form a new band for her gossamer solo material. Called TJO and Gold, it features Miggy Littleton, Kristina Davies, and former Unwound drummer Sara Lund. Not only that, but tonight she's releasing a new record, Bones, full of rarities and alternate versions. Another reason not to miss it: Oly's Liar Bird, who play pretty, velvet, violin-gilded country-type music, that lulls, but never to sleep. Kanako Wynkoop's vocals are tonally similar to Chan Marshall's, but she's self-assured, and backed by talented violinist Nora Danielson and bassist Themba Lewis (ex of The Intima). JS

FIRE, DJS STAY IN SCHOOL, BROKENWINDOW
(Ohm, 31 NW 1st) While grime, the UK's gritty, gully answer to U.S. hiphop, is thee sound of London right now, beyond a smattering of DJs hip to Dizzee Rascal, it's not getting much airtime in PDX. Neither is its root beat, 2step, a trebly, jerky, high-hat heavy variation on UK speed garage. Enter DJ Stay In School. In addition to being a rather exceptional dancer (an underemphasized virtue in a DJ), he's one of Portland's only dudes throwing 2step on decks, refreshing the dancefloor with that synthy bass throb. JS

HURTBIRD, TALKDEMONIC, BINARY DOLLS
(Berbati's, 231 SE Ankeny) Usually, technology affords single-person bands to replace drummers with drum machines. Talkdemonic's Kevin O'Connor, on the other hand, works the inverse, playing live drums over pre-programmed guitars, synth sequencing, strings, erhu samples, IDMmy loops, and the occasional gianormous throb of sub-bass to get the pelvises jittery. It's emotive, rhythmic music that would be just as comfortable on Temporary Residence as it would backing rhymes by some of the somberer emcees, like maybe Awol ONE. JS

FRIDAY 1/30

MONOLAKE, DJ BLISS, STRATEGY, RANDY JONES
(Holocene) Robert Henke, aka, Monolake, CANCELLED due to a severe ear infection. Check www.holocene.org for his replacement (TBA at press time).

QUIVAH DVD RELEASE PARTY, LIGHTEADED, DJ WICKED
(Ohm) The multi-membered instrumental hiphop outfit Quivah is releasing their DVD. And even if you don't have a DVD player, this is significant, because it's another opportunity to see this dual-emceed seven-piece explore the realms of funk, soul, and hiphop, and I suspect tonight they'll be laying it on thick. KS

RICHARD BUCKNER, richmond fontaine, andrew duplants
(Dante's) It is the voice of a highway traveler with ten thousand miles underneath his belt--a traveler that has collected stories to write the songs that mirror our sentiments on those lonesome, desolate stretches of road. Richard Buckner is either the perfect accompaniment for the destitute, or their most feared adversary. His songs embody sorrow at its darkest, most hopeless moments--the moments that leave you uncomfortable in their wake, as if you've taken on the ills of the protagonist during his offering. Not to say that the experience is anything less than stellar--it's just that a little emotional preparation is recommended. LANCE WALKER

ORIGIN, UPHILL BATTLE, FALL OF THE BASTARDS, STONE CREEP
(Conan's, 3862 SE Hawthorne) Origin blast out of Kansas with a technical, death-metal assault that draws an instant line in the sand. Marathon drumming takes the lead, with shifting time signatures and relentless fury. Deep, brutal vocals rumble under violently rhythmic harmonized guitars. If you like movies where there's a lot of fighting, and not much dialogue, their second Relapse album Informis Infinitas Inhumanitas just might be for you. Portland's crust-metal kings Fall of the Bastards support, and release a highly anticipated debut album that should prove to be the best Oregon metal export since YOB's Catharsis. NATHAN CARSON

QUIET COUNTRIES, TALKDEMONIC, DJ TANT, MODERNSTATE, WILDING
(Jasmine Tree, 401 SW Harrison) This is a full night of electronic experimentation, as well as Modernstate's release party for his latest collection of eerie, exquisite, and pretty bummed out tunes, entitled Highwater Moonboot. His is a solo project combining sampler tricks with "real" instruments and echoey vocals. Superb, but don't forget to take your medication. Joining him is Talkdemonic, another solo project that combines an eclectic range of ethnic influences. One song you're hearing Japan, and the next thing you know you're in an Eastern European disco. MS

MATES OF STATE, ROGUE WAVE, DA HAWNAY TROOF
(Nocturnal) More cozy than MySpace, more celebratory than Arbor Day, Mates of States' married-kid pop is a chirping exclamation of joy delivered via blurpy keyboards, drums, and sloppy, shouted harmonies. But there is a dark side. MOS has thee worst record covers in rock. The main offender, their second album, Our Constant Concern, shows a romance novel headshot of a Barbie doll-like couple staring wistfully, nay, SENSUALLY into a swirling red-purple void. The new album, Team Boo, looks better, but some sins are hard to forgive. ADAM GNADE

SATURDAY 1/31

THE TOUCHERS, KILLER'S KISS, THE CRIPPLES
(Twilight) It seems that most garage bands are spending so much time drinking, partying, and rocking, that they don't have a chance to put on the glasses and skinny ties and neon band-aids long enough to build a proper website. Maybe I missed something, but really, it shouldn't be that hard to find. The Cripples I've seen, so I know I can expect the unexpected--like crazy little dudes from Seattle scaling the walls and smashing homemade synths. Back on stage, the rest of the band is playing a keyboard damaged garage/pop tirade. The girl at the back hits the drums really hard and helps all this mayhem raise the ghosts that drive Cars full of Blondies who sometimes get out and dance to the beat. NC

WINTERFOLK XVI: UTAH PHILLIPS, KEVIN BURKE/MIKE BEGLAN, MORE
(Aladdin, 3016 SE Milwaukie) Folk music: the backbone of American culture. When it's good, it's so good, and makes you wish your CD player had a button you could press to hear what every song would sound like with only vocals and acoustic guitar. When it's bad, it's excruciatingly embarrassing for everyone in the room. Festivals like this one are convenient, as you can screen many folk singers in one trip, rather than exhaustive open mic-hopping. Tonight's lineup features the rambling old politico Utah Phillips, (Can't you just picture him bouncing Ani DiFranco on his knee and telling her a story?) and benefits the Sisters Of the Road Café. MS

DESPERATELY WAITING, DESERT CITY SOUNDTRACK, THE MOTIVE
(Ash Street) If you're anything like me, you've sunken into a winter ennui so deep you might not even stop, drop, and roll if you happened to find yourself on fire. Okay, maybe that's going too far--I mean you're still able to muster a laugh when you see people fall off their bikes--but you could use a jumpstart. Thus, Desert City Soundtrack's dark, screamy piano-core and Desperately Waiting's sweet tortured emo. If you're a sucker for the highs and lows, cannibalistic screaming and guitar crashes vs. pretty melodies, this just might be the antidote to your apathy. KS

EEK-A-MOUSE, THE EXPENDABLES
(Dante's) With his peak now in the distant past (the early '80s), it is impressive that toaster Eek-A-Mouse is still around and drawing crowds to his shows. Nevertheless, it's hard to believe that anything that he has produced recently could improve upon "Wa-Do-Dem" (What Do Them), which was released in 1981. Backed by the greatest band on earth, Roots Radics, dubbed by King Tubby's genius disciple, Scientist, "Wa-Do-Dem" is roots reggae's most enchanted prayer to female virginity. It's not that Eek-A-Mouse wants to deprive the beautiful girl of her virginity in the song. Instead, he marvels at her virginity, throwing his fallen, meek body before the feet of its angelic perfection. CHARLES MUDEDE

LITTLE WINGS, THE GRAVES, PEACE HARBOR, LEE BE
(Meow Meow, 320 SE 2nd) I appreciate the casual, affable style of Little Wings. The slow sung lyrics, the lazy guitar, the cute lyrics. It all makes you want to drink lemonade and sit on the porch. And while you're relaxing, take in the cymbals, violins, and musical wordplay of Portland's Graves. KS

SUNDAY 2/1

SUPERBOWL EXTRAVAGANZA
(Disjecta, 116 NE Russell) A screening of the Superbowl, and its ensuing halftime artists--Janet Jackson, Kid Rock, P. Diddy, and Nelly--will occur, accompanied by the noize jox of Disjecta. In addition, Beyonce is singing the National Anthem, Toby Keith and Willie Nelson are doing the pregame show (and possibly engaging in a fistfight), Aerosmith is doing a TRIBUTE TO NASA (can we cut it with the puns, s'il vous plait), and Josh Groban will do some sort of thing at some time (during which you can get up to go to the bathroom). JS

BLOOD BROTHERS, THESE ARMS ARE SNAKES, HARKONEN
(Meow Meow) With members culled from such commanding bands as Kill Sadie and Botch, These Arms Are Snakes blast forth from both stage and speaker with a sound that defies certain definition. Singer Steve Snere makes for a spellbinding frontman--he writhes and howls without forfeiting the all-important melody, while each musician lends a different, unique texture to a mix that comes out surprisingly, skillfully cohesive. If angular rock can be lush at the same time, These Arms Are Snakes are the masters of the concept. KATHLEEN WILSON

MONDAY 2/2

POM POM MELTDOWN, malibu falcon, TRAUMA LE TRON
(Meow Meow) Copping a room full of metal on the proggy sly tip, thee ladies in Pom Pom Meltdown could out-solo Steve Vai and probably fingertap that Minus the Bear dude into an early grave. They win on technicality. Trauma Le Tron is the new showcase for Caroline Buchalter, viola ingénue. JS

THE SHINS, MAGIC MAGICIANS, ALL NIGHT RADIO
(Roseland) La la la, Portland's the Shins, whoopie, your favorite pop band ever, etc. But what about those Magic Magicians? Mmm MMM! John Atkins from 764-HERO, and Joe Plummer from Black Heart Procession! It's like if you took really depressing music, and then, like, made it really happy, but not, you know, TOO happy; just rockin'! JWS

TUESDAY 2/3

PLAN B, TRASH HEAP, THE CHOSEN, DJ MARQUEZ, SMOKE, DESTRO, SLEEP
(Ash Street) Seattle's Plan B brings his hypnotic, jazzy downtempo/hiphop production to your regularly scheduled programming of Thorn City Improv (and some of Portland's brightest hiphop stars). Bboying will probably ensue. JS

SEVENDUST, ILL NINO, ELEMENT EIGHTY
(Roseland) Remember a couple of years ago when a "Latin invasion" (um, Ricky Martin) threatened to take over the music industry? And would-be stars suddenly had to re-record their hits in English for American audiences? Although Ill Nino will probably not expect Ricky Martin-level numbers from "How Can I Live" (their contribution to the Freddy Vs. Jason soundtrack), they are being forced into the same roles in order to make it. It's hard to stand out in the rap metal world, but use words like "spicy" in press releases and you might as well call them the Speedy Gonzales of heavy metal. A band whose newest record is called Confession deserves better than that. ETHAN SWAN

THE PLOT TO BLOW UP THE EIFFEL TOWER, DESERT CITY SOUNDTRACK, MUSTAPHAPOND, SPIDERS ON SPIDERS
(Meow Meow) The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower makes music that sounds like their name: bursts of hardcore, bop jazz tangents, volatile, ambitious, dare I say... towering? I dare not, and if I did dare I'd have to kick my own daring ass. Their forthcoming EP, If You Cut Us We Bleed, showcases why kids climb up on stage with them and dance shirtless. The songs draw you in with an epic "we're knockin' down the audience barrier, and you're ALL in the band" steez. If you're not totally crushing 10 minutes into this set, you're a stone. AG

WEDNESDAY 2/4

ATMOSPHERE, EYEDEA & ABILITIES, mr. dibbs, blueprint, deejay bird
(Roseland) I recently decided that what I like most about Atmosphere's new CD Seven's Travels is that many of its 19 tracks have serious bounce--bounce in the head-nod sense of Lost Boyz's "Music Makes Me High" or IAM's "Nés Sous la Méme Étoile," and not the booty bounce of Miami bass. Bounce of the first order is the mystery sound of hiphop; it emerges at an indistinct point between the abstractness of the swelling bass and the reality of the contracting beat. Put another way, bounce is the phantom after the fact of a beat--if you don't know what I mean, then just listen to Atmosphere's "Bird Sings Why the Caged I Know." CHARLES MUDEDE

NADA SURF, THE LONG WINTERS, CROSSTIDE
(Berbati's) See Music pg 15

SLEEPYHEAD AND THE DISMAL CITY, AED, born losers, dj maximillion
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) Perhaps Sleepyhead's couplet "you know my rhyme's in order/like dichotomy/You know your rhymes are shitty/like sodomy" isn't exactly the hardest-hitting battle rap, to say the least. But it's in a song called "For the Weedheads," so it works. The Dismal City Crew, of which Sleepyhead is a part, bring inchoate raps with a certain charm, humor, and enough sexaphors to rival R. Kelly (um, i.e. "she makes me stiffer than AquaNet"). JS