THURSDAY 7/16
PDX POP NOW! AT CITY HALL: YACHT, POINT JUNCTURE,
WA, Y LA BAMBA
(Portland City Hall, 1221 SW 4th) See My, What a Busy Week!.
HIDE AND GO HUSTLE
(Music Millennium, 3158 E Burnside) See listing.
PAPER/UPPER/CUTS, HIDE AND GO
HUSTLE, BREAKFAST
MOUNTAIN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) The few vocal moments that accompany
the lovely instrumental arrangements on the new recording from Hide and
Go Hustle come not from a sweet-voiced singer, but instead from the
infamous horror movie sound effect the Wilhelm Scream. It’s not the
most pleasant fit to an otherwise delightful seven-song album of lush
cello, restrained electronic beats, and swelling percussion. Throughout
the self-titled release, Hide and Go Hustle do exquisite work creating
instrumental music that exists in the narrow framework of the genre,
but they aren’t afraid to stray into bold new directions—hear the
Ratatat influence on “The Bump” for proof. Next time out, let’s hope
the band stays true to that direction and leaves the screams for the
slasher flicks. EZRA ACE CARAEFF
SOFT PAWS, SUMMER CATS, THE TARTANS
(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) The indie rock template can get old pretty
fast, but that’s not the case when you throw some bouncy arrangements
and devious, off-key vocals into the mix. Soft Paws has been tiptoeing
around Portland for a minute now, and has started to come into their
own by producing unique, captivating rock music on their self-titled
debut recording (which is limited to 100 LPs and a few hand-assembled
CD-Rs). They’ll be joined by Australian indie pop band Summer Cats, who
have just re-released their latest album, Songs for Tuesday, a
recording that could best be described as tiny musical bursts of pure
joy. Tonight there might be some yelling, and there definitely will be
a lot of jumping around. THEODORA KARATZAS
RAFTER, FLESHTONE, JEFFREY JERUSALEM
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) What happens when you mix funk-influenced
electronics with a sugary sweet dose of lilting vocals (à la Of
Montreal)? You end up with something akin to San Diego artist Rafter
Roberts. A member of Sufjan Stevens’ Asthmatic Kitty label—and a
well-known producer/collaborator with just about every indie band on
the planet—Rafter’s solo music is fun, playful, and all sorts of
funky. There’s something sweet and comforting about the way he sings
over his catchy, simplistic pop beats. The music of Rafter might not
have grabbed you upon first listen—his earliest recordings do
sound pretty god-awful—but he’s completely turned his game around
with last year’s Sweaty Magic. TK
FRIDAY 7/17
A-TRAK, THEOPHILUS LONDON, RUDE DUDES, CORY O
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week!
PINK MOUNTAIN, EYES, TRAWLER BYCATCH
(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) See Music.
SNOOP DOGG, SLIGHTLY STOOPID, STEPHEN MARLEY, MICKEY AVALON
(Memorial Coliseum, 300 Winning Way) See Music.
LAURA VEIRS, THE OLD BELIEVERS, CATALDO
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Charming folktress Laura
Veirs is no stranger to the fresh-faced vocal delights of the Old
Believers; the two musical acts collaborated during Veirs’ “Two Beer
Veirs” residency at LaurelThirst earlier this year. Now the Believers
have been welcomed into the fold completely, both as opening acts and
members of Veirs’ new backing band. Speaking of new Veirs, her latest
recording July Flame is finished, but no release date has been
set. I haven’t heard it, but the Decemberists’ Colin Meloy was quick to
spread some hype in a Tweet that declared the album was his “fave
record of 20??.” (Did he mean it’s the best record of the century? Or
did he just forget what year it is?) EAC
DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE, THE NEW PORNO- GRAPHERS, RA RA RIOT
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) At this point, Death Cab for
Cutie are really too big to surprise anyone anymore, but they’ll bring
their mass-mandated comfort food to a sold-out show that will likely be
a facsimile of their Edgefield show from last summer, with a couple
tunes from the recent The Open Door EP for good measure.
Meanwhile, the New Pornographers’ AC Newman released a solo album this
year (Get Guilty) that contained some of the best music of his
career; he sounded urgent and invigorated in a way he hasn’t since
Mass Romantic, the first Pornographers album. While Newman
probably won’t be dropping any solo joints, expect Get Guilty‘s
grandiosity to revitalize the Pornographers’ sunny pop. Meanwhile,
Death Cab fans would be doing themselves a huge disservice to skip
openers Ra Ra Riot, whose delicate, ecstatic, cello-laden pop could
very well be the highlight of an impressive triple bill. Leave town
early; traffic’ll be a bitch. NED LANNAMANN
SATURDAY 7/18
THE METAL SHAKESPEARE COMPANY, THE VALKYRIES, HAIRSPRAY BLUES , JUNKFACE, MISS MEGHAN
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) See My, What a Busy Week!
THE DECEMBERISTS, ANDREW BIRD, BLIND PILOT
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) See My, What a Busy Week!,
and Music.
THE SODA POP KIDS, THE BLOODIES, THE LORDY LORDS, MIDNIGHT
CALLERS
(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) All good things must come to an end.
Tonight, Portland bids farewell to the Soda Pop Kids, as the band
concludes their six-year run (“One of those break up before you burn
out scenarios,” explains singer Jonny P. Jewels). Playing ’50s pop-rock
teenage ballads about love (and alien abductions), the likeable punk
rockers have been a staple in the Portland music scene since their
arrival in 2003. The Kids still have one more single up their sleeve,
available at the show, and (according to Jewels) then they’ll bid adieu
with “a cover of ‘Fire’ by Arthur Brown, [then] a 12-minute drum solo
by [Alan] Torres, leading into ‘For Your Love’ by the Yardbirds,
naturally.” Your soda pop will be missed, Kids. PHILIP GAUDETTE
KING BLACK ACID, THE UPSIDEDOWN, TANGO ALPHA TANGO
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Portland stalwarts King Black Acid chalk
up another sporadic gig with their new lineup, which, confusingly,
seems to be officially dubbed King Black Acid and the Sacred Heart. In
an interview with the Willamette Week, frontman Daniel Riddle
described the new sound as (we are not making this up): “heavy like a
Chevy with more hooks than a fucking pirate convention.” Arr! Maybe you
heard the new King Black Acid song gracing the soundtrack of
Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, but you’d be forgiven if you
missed out on their generic contribution while you were riveted to the
eternal struggle of hot vampires vs. hot werewolves. King Black Acid’s
contrived, The Crow-lite sound wishes to perpetuate an edgy,
sinister vibe, but its desperate lust to stab the mainstream is
undeniable. It’s a bad sign indeed when an act’s glam influences sound
cribbed from David Bowie’s 1995 album Outside rather than
Ziggy Stardust. NL
WAX FINGERS , ELBA, SWIM SWAM SWUM
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) Elba won’t celebrate the release of their
second album Don’t Be Discouraged, Little Sparrow until their
homecoming Seattle show at the beginning of August, but you’ll be able
to hear tunes from the new record as they swing through Portland on
their current West Coast jaunt. Elba makes a stubbornly unclassifiable
brand of indie rock that encompasses a huge array of styles, from
angular post-punk to pillow-soft folk to jittery laptop pop. “Red” is
equal parts Elvis Costello and the Beach Boys without really sounding
like either, while “What You Need Is a Light” pairs the taut riffing of
Pinback with the innocent melodicism of early Kinks. In many ways, Elba
is an encapsulation of the current indie scene at large, a symptom of
sprawling record collections condensed onto a single hard drive, where
no influence—baroque, DIY, what have you—is avoidable
during shuffle play. NL
SUNDAY 7/19
THE DECEMBERISTS, ANDREW BIRD, BLIND PILOT
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) See My, What a Busy Week! and Music.
MAGICK DAGGERS, MORTAL CLAY, MADE IN MEXICO
(Plan B, 1305 SE 8th) I’ve been away from New York for three years
now, but if I close my eyes, I can hear a distinct raggaeton beat
pounding away in the Upper West Side of my brain. The dance style’s
monotonous, synthetic “dembow” rhythm (i.e., the sound of a handsome
robot seducing a bass cannon) took the Big Apple by storm in the middle
part of the decade, just when radio formats were in flux across the
dial. It proved a passing fancy for the car-audio masses, but the beat
lives on in other sexy musixxx, including a noise-rock variety crafted
by guitarist Jeff Schneider’s post-Arab on Radar project Made in
Mexico. The coed Providence, Rhode Island, group’s latest full-length,
Guerillaton, surrounds live-band raggaeton with distorto-guitar
staccato and Blondie croon. It’s as if Daddy Yankee, Glass Candy, and
Shellac were all friends on the dance floor. MIKE MEYER
COWBOY JUNKIES, SON VOLT
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) When trailblazing
proto-Americana band Uncle Tupelo split in 1994, it seemed Jeff Tweedy
had the winning hand. Taking what remained of Uncle Tupelo, he formed Wilco
and launched a string of absolutely indispensable albums, including
Being There, Summerteeth, and a pair of Mermaid
Avenue records with Billy Bragg. But since 2002’s Yankee Hotel
Foxtrot—the recently deceased Jay Bennett’s final record with
Wilco, which perhaps is significant—Wilco has floundered in
bloodless dad-rock, flirting with cleanly technical noodlery and
useless jam-band tropes. So where does that leave Jay Farrar, the other
songwriter behind Uncle Tupelo? Sitting pretty atop a heap of
albums—both solo and under the name Son Volt—that, while
never scraping the heights of Wilco’s best moments, are solidly
enjoyable from start to finish. 2007’s The Search contained some
of Farrar’s finest songs yet, and the brand-new American Central
Dust is a happy reminder that Son Volt has become one of the most
consistent brand names around, something from which Wilco—not to
mention long-past-prime headliners the Cowboy Junkies—could stand
to learn a lesson or two. NL
MAMIFFER, HEMINGWAY, JOSH HYDEMAN, BROWN
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) Live and on Memorex, Faith
Coloccia’s piano-based compositions as Mamiffer minimize the
(unlistenable) tenets of noise music while exploring a new mode of
experimentation not opposed to pop-style structure. The Seattle outfit
is grounded by simple, uplifting melodies—not far from
self-taught plunking—and uses discordance only as wallpaper to
its hopeful, minor-key centerpieces. Last year’s Hirror Enniffer collaborative full-length with members of Isis and These Arms Are
Snakes is like an imaginary instrumental snapshot of Regina Spektor
meeting Smegma. Can’t picture it? Head to Ash Street for a rare glimpse
of worlds meshing. MM
BRIAN KENNY FRESNO, BALTHROP ALABAMA
(Dante’s, 1 SW 3rd) I want to quit my job, burn my house to the
ground (or maybe just sell it), and join Balthrop, Alabama. This
11-piece ragtag Brooklyn ensemble of Southerners—Alabamans, to be
exact—thrives with a vivacious theatrical flair, using their
indie pop leanings (the wit of Magnetic Fields, the urgency of Arcade
Fire) to create an entire movement in the guise of a rock ‘n’ roll
band. They are literally their own community (“population 11”), and
keep the conceptual theme going with short EPs that wondrously follow
certain topics—Subway Songs, Cowboy Songs—to
their end. Tonight you will be tempted to shed your former life and hop
onstage to join the band. Why not make it an even dozen? EAC
MONDAY 7/20
DOOMTREE, ANIMAL FARM, QUIXOTIC, DOCTOR ADAM
(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) See My, What a BusyWeek!
TUESDAY 7/21
IMPENDING DOOM, CARNIFEX, MISS MAY I, CONDUCTING FROM THE GRAVE, MOLOTOV SOLUTION
(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) Christian metal band Impendi… wait, come
back! This ain’t Jesus having a picnic party while listening to Judas
Priest (though that would be amazing). This is Old Testament shit. I’m
talking about the sonic equivalent of God smiting and tossing your limp
body into an apocalyptic flood, while Impending Doom, who magically
appears as the clouds part, shreds your body into tiny pieces with
punishing reverb. And then Noah’s all like, “Oh, hell no,” and releases
the dinosaurs from his ark, which are subsequently annihilated by
Doom’s abominable fervor. Don’t blame the Southern California band for
being filed into the misleading category of Christian rock. They should
be judged by their ability to rock the sin right out of you. PG
BONOBO, BIG GIGANTIC, EMANCIPATOR
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Bonobo (AKA British producer Simon Green) comes
to America with a large group to realize his Ninja Tune-ful downtempo
funk. Seems like a recipe for losing huge stacks of money, but his
labelmates the Herbaliser smashingly pulled it off earlier this year,
so we’re hopeful Mr. Green can follow suit. He’ll flesh out his
thoughtfully cinematic hedonics with cello, sax, violins, percussion,
guitar, bass, drums, vocals, and keyboards. With three solid albums
from which to draw, Bonobo on this tour should be an interesting
experiment in transforming solo bedroom creations into a multi-pronged
live organism.
DAVE SEGAL
THE HANDSOME FAMILY, DANIEL KNOX
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Last week as I was driving down a
particularly desolate stretch of coastal highway, the holy bass voice
of the Handsome Family’s Brett Sparks came over the last vestige of
local radio with the opening line from “Tin Foil.” (“Late New Year’s
Eve/paper hat on your head/it’s hard to believe you’ll ever be dead.”)
As these words suggest, the Family—husband and wife duo
Brett and Rennie—makes music that consistently pays tribute
to the sorrow and beauty of mortality. Their latest release, Honey
Moon, is an uplifted ode to their 20-plus years of romance
and band-hood, and may take aback longtime fans with its sunny
optimism. Yet the chorus of “Tin Foil” demonstrates the band’s
ability to find the perfect harmony of both dark and light in one
hell of a moving line: “What is moving will be still/what’s
been scattered will disperse/what’s been built up will collapse/all of
your dreams fulfilled.” MARANDA BISH
WEDNESDAY 7/22
LEBOWSKI FEST: HAR MAR SUPERSTAR
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) See My, What a Busy Week!
THREE MILE PILOT, OPTIGANALLY YOURS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music.
BEDOUIN SOUNDCLASH, ROOTBEER, PIGEON JOHN, JOSH MARTINEZ
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) There is little about the Bedouin
Soundclash equation—Canadian ska and reggae run through the
filter of Warped Tour punk rock—that sounds appealing, but I’ll
be damned if their 2008 release, Street Gospels, isn’t an
impressive listen. Unbothered by the issues of regional
authenticity—or the deep shame that must come with sharing a
record label with Goldfinger—frontman Jay Malinowski belts out
his pop-influenced reggae numbers with a thin rasp and a penchant for
lingering melodies. No matter what they borrow from the mighty lore of
reggae, they return, campsite style, in better shape than when they got
there.
EAC
JACKIE-O MOTHERFUCKER, DRAGGING AN OX THROUGH
WATER
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Tom Greenwood has kept his
avant-weird musical “project” Jackie-O Motherfucker alive for 15 years
now, releasing 10 records with a revolving door of… well, other
like-minded weirdos. In doing so, Greenwood has created his own genre
by taking American roots music and effectively putting it through the
wringer. JOMF hit its musical stride with 2000’s Fig. 5, a sort
of history lesson in American music punctuated by the 24-minute
behemoth “Michigan Avenue Social Club.” With the release of their
latest Ballads of the Revolution—six songs clocking in at
just over 40 minutes—Greenwood leads a new crew of spaced-out
experimentalists into Americana’s murkiest waters. Forget about
Thurston Moore spinning records at Jackpot Records on July 28—I
wanna hear what’s in Greenwood’s collection. MARK LORE