EVAN DANDO, TEA FOR JULIE, CHRIS TSEFALAS (Lola's, 1332 W Burnside) Perhaps you remember Evan Dando for his part in the Lemonheads' faint scrapping of the pop charts with a gloriously unnecessary jangle pop cover of "Mrs. Robinson." Maybe you remember him as your Sassy magazine poster boy, whose photo was decoupaged to your teen girl bedroom mirror. Or maybe, if you gave two shits, you remember ol' Evan for his well-publicized crack habit. Me? I remember Evan as the guy who purportedly took the virginity of a 15-year-old Bijou Phillips. I defy you to remember one of Evan Dando's actual songs. Don't worry, the world doesn't remember either. ZAC PENNINGTON
BEN HARPER & THE INNOCENT CRIMINALS, TOM FREUND (Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Back in college (and back when he didn't just endlessly recycle his Austin City Limits brand of hippie-friendly pop-folk) I loved Ben Harper--to the extent that I planned a road trip to see a show of his. But this asshole professor wouldn't let me skip a final to go. ASSHOLE! A few weeks ago, though, I put on a Ben Harper album and realized that while he's alright, he ain't worth a road trip. So go to this show--but if you have, say, a conflicting Romanticism final, I wouldn't worry about it too much. (I still hate Professor Jack Siemsen, though. He was a real sanctimonious sack of shit.) ERIK HENRIKSEN
THE '80S EXPERIENCE: BLACK CELEBRATION, LOVE VIGILANTES, FASCINATION STREET (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See Once More With Feeling, pg 45
GLASS CANDY, KILL ME TOMORROW, DANCE DISASTER MOVEMENT, SECRET PUPPETS (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25
LUCERO, THE HONORARY TITLE, THE GLASS (Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Lucero's sad and drunken fight/fuck fightsongs are brilliant in that their open-ended nature--not fit for any one genre in particular--and virtually universal. Jumping rails from Sad Panda Westerberg one moment to drunken Pogues bar fight the next (with obligatory mix-tape for your sweetheart acoustic numbers added for good measure), Lucero runs with the idea that punk music in it's truest form is a genreless beast--best performed by those with a wide range of influences. Most importantly alcohol. EZRA ACE CARAEFF
JERRY JOSEPH AND THE JACKMORMONS (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25
GREEN MILK FROM THE PLANET ORANGE, FRIDAY GROUP (Food Hole, 420 NW 3rd) You think Japan's Green Milk from the Planet Orange have a long name? You should listen to their songs--provided you have the patience, you with your random-shuffling, iPod-listening ways. If the album format is dead, as some pundits posit, then Green Milk... (oh, forget it) are doomed to languish in obscurity. Only those pitiful Luddites who actually buy CDs or vinyl and listen attentively to them from start to finish--and who don't get fidgety when songs pass the six-minute mark--will pay heed to this androgynous trio. DAVE SEGAL See also My, What a Busy Week! pg 25
KINGS OF LEON, SECRET MACHINES, SHOUT OUT LOUDS (Roseland, 8 NW 6th) These three sons and a nephew of a traveling Tennessee preacher (Leon is his name) favor the same yowling vocals and jangling percussion beloved by Southern-flavored hippies from Black Oak Arkansas to Blues Traveler. Luckily, the Kings motor past that backwoods backdrop on their second album, Aha Shake Heartbreak, with quick Strokes-like rave-ups that skitter through unexpected changes. Yet for almost every winning riff there's also a crass lyric ("she has problems with drinking milk") to remind you that these reprobates are still just joyriding through the big city they were surely raised to disdain. Hitching along could be fun, if you know when to get off. FRANKLIN SOULTS See also CD Reviews, page 27
THE NEINS, THE FE FI FO FUMS, THE PETS, HELLO (Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) The Pets hail from Oakland, but they should look partially familiar to anyone versed in the Northwest garage-rock scene over the past couple of years. Ex-Right On! drummer Dan Wood skipped states down south from Seattle and is now bashing the crap outta new gear for the Pets, a band he fronts alongside Andy Jordan of the Cuts and Vincent Horner (ex-Short Eyes). They have a record out this fall on Birdman, but for now expect a lotta sloppy, good-times garage punk. JM
TALKDEMONIC, NICE NICE, PRIME MERIDIAN (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) Two two-member bands have been blowing the minds of Portlanders everywhere, and it's time to get yours. Nice Nice pair guitar and drums and explore a range of funk, rock, and noise, but to truly understand them, you must see them live. Talkdemonic explore pretty, sweeping instrumentals with drums, violin, and melodica, and if you haven't heard of them then you must be hard of hearing. KATIE SHIMER
THE AQUABATS, THE EPOXIES, THE PHENOMENAUTS (Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) Tonight represents two sides to the ripping off Devo coin--and to those of you out their who wanna give the spuds a go yourselves, I implore you to pay attention. First off you've got Portland's own Epoxies, who blend the best elements of Ohio's finest with a bevy of L.A. New Wave--the product of which sounds as if it was mistakenly left off of the Valley Girl soundtrack. For those keeping score, The Epoxies rest comfortably in the "pro" column. Alternately, we have The Aquabats--a sprawling, decade old SoCal band who lift Devo's penchant for self-mythology and dramatics and marry it with umpteenth wave SKA and "zany" songs about magic chickens, midget pirates, and lobster buckets. Do I really need to hold your hand through this one? ZP
BABY SHAKES, BEAT BEAT BEAT, NICE BOYS, THE ONES (Sabala's Mt Tabor, 4811 SE Hawthorne) Cute girls with guitars and mini skirts make up the personnel of Baby Shakes, a sugary-voiced punk pop venture that's long on kitsch and hot band photos, but otherwise short on remarkability. The music is innocuously soft/tough/gooey, like they talk like babies and chew pink bubble gum (while smoking cigarettes), but if you fucked with them they'd pull your hair really hard. MARJORIE SKINNER
BECK, LE TIGRE, McRORIE (Memorial Coliseum) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25, Music, pg 28
FEDERATION X, DRUNK HORSE, LAST OF THE JUANITAS, BLACK ELK (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25
AMBER MARTIN (Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Easily one of the best performers in town, Amber Martin creates whacked out, off-the-wall characters that she inhabits with the kind of eerie intensity of Peter Sellers. Whether she's performing in House of Cunt, doing her solo show HI!, or just singing songs, she consistently puts on an incredible, high energy show. Tonight is a special "avant-garde cabaret" with disgustingly talented guest performers including Mike Barber (10 Tiny Dances), Linda Austin, Andrew Ox (House of Cunt), and Sissyboy to just name a few. All profits from the show, at the new Wonder Ballroom, help fund a New York run of HI! in September. There's absolutely no reason not to go to this show. Except of course, that once Martin has a successful run in New York, she probably won't come back. Who wants to support that? M. WILLIAM HELFRICH
DANIEL MENCHE, JANICE MCKEACHERN, GENEVIEVE DELLINGER, JP JENKINS (Fix Gallery, 811 E Burnside) Fix Gallery's live noise performances are best viewed from outside the huge Plexiglass window--saving your eardrums while allowing a view into the increasingly intense local, improvised power electronic acts. This showcase features international noise mogul Daniel Menche, who has been known to simply set up at the soundboard and manipulate the static inherent in a venue's public address system. Sound pretentious? It might be exactly the opposite. Janice McKeachern performs on a prepared guitar with playful and precise movements. Genevieve Dellinger and JP Jenkins perform together using various electronic devices. AMY VECCHIONE
ROSE FOR BOHDAN, SEX WITH GIRLS, GHOST TO FALCO (Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Place) Now entering its 10th year, Rose for Bohdan is the primary creative platform of former theology student turned noise mogul and musical black humorist Brian Miller. Based in Los Angeles for the past several years, Miller has been one of the most active characters in that city's recent blossoming of every stripe of experimental punk and noise bands, as well as the related limited-release, small vinyl/CD-R/stuffed animal-cassette culture that is well exemplified and extolled by Miller's own Deathbombarc label. Despite his many-tentacled activities, Rose for Bohdan is Miller's self-professed lifelong love and focus. Over their decade of activity, R4B have had a ton of releases, many out of print/lost in the sea of prolific forward-motion, and have also continuously weathered violent shifts in style and lineup. Recent years have also found weird ventures into video-game-textured and hiphop-infused songs. The most recent versions of the band have returned to bludgeoning rock, but deconstructed into unfamiliar and daemonic shapes. R4B feel like the most brutish of LA punk history colliding head-on with high art music. SAM MICKENS
SCUM OF THE EARTH, SOCIETY1, BRAND NEW SIN, SYX, TEMUJIN (Rock N Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) Scum of the Earth = a bit of Marilyn Manson + a bit of My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult + songs about a "white-trash devil girl" + songs about spiders + a bit of Alice in Chains + a cover image of goateed, goth dudes and their blood-red ladies. What else would you expect from ex-Rob Zombie guitarist Riggs? Sensitive ballads? JENNIFER MAERZ
SUICIDE CLUB FEATURING DJ NIGHTSCHOOL, DJ STAN, DJ JD (Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) With a doorman checking IDs, a miniscule cover charge for some of their more established events, and even actual print ads (!) running in this very publication, it's clear that changes are afoot within the notoriously secretive walls of Dunes. Tonight's Suicide Club is sure to pack out those oft-strained walls, with a special guest DJ set from Le Tigre's JD Sampson. Sure, Le Tigre may have screwed the pooch with their recent major label debut in This Island, but even that black mark can't touch the unwavering awesomeness of JD Sampson. That lady's like Teflon. ZP
FREE FEST FEATURING ELLIOTT SHARP, SCUFFLE & DUSTCOUGH, MARK WHITECAGE & ROZANNE LEVINE, SETI, WET FOOD, SUPER UNITY, TRES GONE, EVOLUTIONARY JASS BAND, AND MORE (Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) Your chance to visit Dunes by the harsh light of day, the Free Fest features a seemingly endless list of the city's experimental performers, including the very excellent likes of Super Unity, Scuffle & Dustcough, and Evolutionary Jass Band. Even more exciting is an appearance by legendary NYC guitarist Elliott Sharp, who along with folks like John Zorn and Wayne Horvitz, was a major figure in the downtown '80s experimental scene. Free Fest starts at 3 pm, and is, as the name doubly implies, totally gratis. ZP
THE SHAPE SHIFTERS, 2 MEX, SUPREEME, BROTHER REEDE, DJ WICKED (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Underground hiphop generally takes itself very seriously--not so with the Shape Shifters, who spin through musical styles and comedic rants like a glittering disco ball. Space age samples, heavy metal guitar thrash, and Loony Tunes-style jazzy trumpet are just a few of the ingredients you might encounter, though the icing on this layer cake is a heightened consciousness about the state of planet earth, which slices through the zaniness like a satirical Samurai sword. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS
CLIMBER, DIAMOND NIGHTS, SPACE MTN (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg 28
SIMON DAWES, MT. EGYPT, NICKY P (Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) The Simon Dawes's EP (out now on Record Collection) was a lo- Arthur-era Kinks with a thumb on the turntable, and it somehow got them an opening slot on a Maroon 5 tour. Ugh, yeah, I know, but Dawes' guitarists/singers Taylor and Blake rattle out call-and-response rock 'n' roll like every British blues brother before them: Keith and Mick (on "Behind the Bleachers"), Jimmy and Robert (on "Salute the Institution"), Ray and Dave (on "Lazy Daisy"). Most of this Malibu foursome just graduated high school but they still play like the Stones broke up right after Exile. I have no idea how anyone in Maroon 5 could get into this. CHRIS ZIEGLER
CIGARETTE, EMANEHT, LIVITZ LIVITZ (Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) Nate G, the guitarist of So-Cal Warped Tour aspirants, Cigarette, recently appeared on MTV's Pimp My Ride, the show that transforms a contestant's vehicle into one that is worthy of a procurer of prostitutes. Aside from the grotesque proliferation of the term "pimp," what was most offensive was the supreme douche-osity of Nate, who seemed to equate having MTV finance a van makeover with his band's for-realness. Luckily, Nate admits to being a "d-bag" (douchebag) on the Cigarette website, so he's diffused my initial desire to harsh him. Go to the show, if only to key his new van. I mean see his new van. KIP BERMAN
GOSLING, SPACE MTN (Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) About 45 seconds into Gosling's debut EP, Davey Ingersoll unleashes a scream that, unlike the primal, harrowing, howl of Kurt Cobain, seems to be more of a bratty, fuck-it-all disdain for having to sing a proper verse to the otherwise meticulously crafted pop song, "Mr. Skeleton Wings." For a band that lists its influences as "The Baroque Era, The Romantic Era, and The Jazz Era," Gosling seems willfully ignorant of the very contradictory aesthetic proclivities of the artists from whom they borrow. That's okay, though, because in mixing together cabaret piano with new wave synthesizers and prog rock guitars, Gosling displays an adventurously Catholic contribution to 21st century rock. KIP BERMAN
INGREDIENTS FEATURING COPY, WORLD, GLOMM, KOTO Y SOTO, DIZZYSTARHOUSE, WHITE RAINBOW, OFFICE PRODUCTS, JESUS BURGER, LET'S GO OUTSIDE (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25
NEED NEW BODY, PIT ER PAT, LEVEL ANCHORAGE (Loveland, 320 SE 2nd Ave) See My, What a Busy Week! pg 25; Music, pg 27
WEIRD WAR, THE VOLUMES (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See Music, pg 27
WE QUIT, ABIKU, 2% MAJESTY, CERTAIN DEATH (Food Hole, 420 NW 3rd) Baltimore's Abiku have a desperate, dark disco urgency to their electro music that's a little retro industrial, with healthy doses of goth and banshee noise thrown in. It's more theatrical than a lot of other disco/noise/punk music that's been coming out and tending to the austere and ironic. Vocalist Jane sounds like she's ripping her frigging throat out in almost every song, with a ferocity that puts most metal singers to shame, and places a cherry on top. MARJORIE SKINNER