THURSDAY 9/3

FILM ROCKS PHOTO SHOW: TWEAK BIRD, VISQUEEN, ANCIENT AGE

(East End, 203 SE Grand) See My, What a Busy Week.

OREGON SYMPHONY, PORTLAND YOUTH PHILHARMONIC, PORTLAND TAIKO

(Tom McCall Waterfront Park, 1020 SW Naito) See My, What a Busy Week, and music.

TBA FESTIVAL: GANG GANG DANCE

(The Works @ Washington High School, 531 SE 14th) See Destination: Fun.

ELVIS PERKINS IN DEARLAND, CELILO

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music.

MASSIVE MOTH, PATTERNS, GRATITILLIUM, DOUBLE PLUS GOOD

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Salem band Massive Moth are poised to release their first album, Heavy Hand of Whimsy, at tonight's all-ages record release show. We haven't gotten our hands on the actual record yet, but on the five-song CDR the trio provided, their '70s classic rock bent is apparent. The proggy angles work best on the pastoral soaring of "White Wig Days"—a song that could belong on Strawbs' Bursting at the Seams—but not nearly as well on "Bottomless Pit," whose Latin beat and wandering chord structure sounds like a reject from Phish's Junta. On the whole, there are some busy arrangements and flashy drumming that feel like showing off rather than serving the song, and the vocals are pretty flat, but there's a lot to like about Massive Moth—perhaps the most exciting of which is their potential, and Heavy Hand of Whimsy shows the sound of a young, ambitious band getting their feet under them. NED LANNAMANN

DANIEL JOHNSTON, SCOUT NIBLETT, GREGORY MILES HARRIS

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Call me an indie-rock philistine (I've been called worse), but I never really got into Daniel Johnston. To me, Johnston was always That Crazy Singer/Songwriter Guy from Texas Who Isn't Roky Erickson (man, those guys should really team up on some "Pancho and Lefty 2010" shit). This situation has been recently ameliorated via an introduction to Johnston's Yip/Jump Music: Summer 1983, which may or may not be one of his more canonical cassettes—I don't know—but it sounds pretty sweet on a stereo in someone's room while the summer breeze plays with the curtains. Johnston's music remains a messy, fractured, and wonderstruck take on classic pop rock. ERIC GRANDY

DIRTY SWEET, GRINGO STAR, NICO VEGA

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) With a name lifted from T.Rex's "Bang a Gong" ("Well you're dirty and sweet, clad in black"), San Diego's Dirty Sweet are equally as loyal to the preachings of Marc Bolan as they are the dusty shoot-out scores of Ennio Morricone. Resembling a trio of Jesuses (Jesi?)—their beards are long, but hair is longer—Dirty Sweet are only neat when it comes to keeping things tucked inside the classic rock 'n' roll template of Bonham-sized drums, mandatory guitar solos, and wailing vocals that are higher than the top hat precariously perched on Bolan's afro'd head on the cover of The Slider. EZRA ACE CARAEFF

EXTRA GOLDEN, EXPLODE INTO COLORS, OHMEGA WATTS

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Extra Golden returns to Portland with Thank You Very Quickly, the half-American, half-Kenyan band's third album. A lot has been made of the uniqueness of their patented blend of American indie rock and African benga music, but it's surprising how familiar Extra Golden sounds—not merely in the mainstream context of pleated-khaki popsters Vampire Weekend or even the memory of Paul Simon's Graceland, but also more recently in the shimmery dance tracks of Studio or the explosive clean-guitar punk of Abe Vigoda. Opening band Explode into Colors possess even more striking originality than Extra Golden, threading repetitious half-melodies across syncopated rhythms for a minimal but infatuating workout where the beat is king. The guitar boogie of Extra Golden has a bit more fat on its bones, but they'll close what should be a very fun dance party, even if they aren't going to be the most unusual thing on the bill. NL

FRIDAY 9/4

NIGHTCLUBBING: PRINS THOMAS, LINGER & QUIET

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week.

TBA FESTIVAL: EXPLODE INTO COLORS, JANET PANTS, CHRIS HACKETT

(The Works @ Washington High School, 531 SE 14th) See Destination: Fun.

DE LA SOUL, ANIMAL FARM, LIBRETTO

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Music.

THE CASUALTIES, MOUTH SEWN SHUT, KRUM BUMS, RUM REBELLION, HAMMERED GRUNTS

(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) See Music.

STARFUCKER, WE ALL HAVE HOOKS FOR HANDS, DEELAY CEELAY

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Portland bands, step aside for a second. Tonight's double header (an all-ages show at 5 pm, and another at 9 pm for the drinkin' crowd) features not only Starfucker and Deelay Ceelay, but lesser known Sioux Falls act We All Have Hooks for Hands, who—dare I say—might steal the show. With the same vigor and craftiness as Broken Social Scene, this collective produce epic, lo-fi pop songs that can best be appreciated while screaming along with your friends in a car. The lush dynamic that spreads throughout WAHHFH's tunes is loud, messy, and engineered to make you move and shake, with enough complexities to give the less dance-inclined a run for their money. If that doesn't do the trick, Starfucker surely will. PHILIP GAUDETTE Also, see My, What a Busy Week.

EMERALDS, BOGUS TOKUS (EARLY SHOW)

(East End, 203 SE Grand) Emeralds just sent demos of an album they've been working on that makes me think that Frank Kozik should resurrect his Man's Ruin label and release them. On this new batch of bong-centric songs, Emeralds churn out a robust strain of stoner rock that flares and billows with Deep Purple–ish abandon. Their sense of dynamics, ear for classic guitar/bass/keyboard textures, and reliance on downward chord progressions reveal a studied yet visceral approach to the heavy rock that first flourished during Richard M. Nixon's reign. DAVE SEGAL

DAVILA 666, MANNEQUIN MEN, TY SEGALL, JEFF THE BROTHERHOOD

(East End, 203 SE Grand) Chicago's long history of technically amazing power pop has never been something one could admit to owning or even knowing. My copy of Enuff Z'nuff's eponymous power-glam masterpiece is safely cloaked by a spine rendered in Japanese kana. (Yes, I imported it for this reason alone.) No more hiding. Mannequin Men, we should like. Their stupidly titled Lose Your Illusion, Too is a powder keg of Television-out-the-window Dionysian excess, with brazen multipart harmonies (the entire quartet sings as if in the shower together), and garage-party vroom. "Waiting Around" is their third LP in a nutshell: "Everyone's running out of smokes, but nobody wants to leave the house." It's that good. MIKE MEYER

BLACK JOE LEWIS AND THE HONEYBEARS, COCO COBRA AND THE KILLERS, WENDY DARLING

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) The garage-soul sounds of Black Joe Lewis might be sweeter than the most cavity-inducing flavor of the week, but the Austin-based singer (backed by his sugary Honeybears) is respectfully steeped in the past. And not just with his vintage musical arrangements—which are one part Stax classics, one part Daptone revisionism—but with a video for "I'm Broke" that slyly pays tribute to past iconic musical designs (including an artistic staple from Blue Note, the album cover of Freddie Hubbard's Hub-Tones). Regardless of what influences have paved his path thus far, Lewis & Co. are intent on making sure our future is just as soulful as our past. EAC

JUNKFACE, WORLD'S GREATEST GHOSTS, CHURCH, TEEATH

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Perhaps the craziness of their live shows is to account for the delay—or perhaps their ever-shifting lineup, which has seen members defect to little bands like Starfucker and Blind Pilot—but spastic party band Junkface is only now releasing their debut full-length album. Fans of their brawling live performances might be surprised, but in no way displeased, by the careful pop structuring of the record, which sees frontman Randy Bemrose crooning happily sharp-edged nuggets, not unlike the early days of Spoon before they went dapper. Over the years, Junkface has steadily been one of Portland's best bands, but one that's remained fervently underground; with their off-the-radar house shows, frantic and shambling 15-minute sets, and an abbreviated discography that (up 'til now) contained little more than an EP, the band's potentially large appeal has been momentary and hard to pin down. With the release of their first full-length, here's hoping Junkface becomes a little easier to grab onto. NL

THE BUGS

(The People's Sandwich of Portland, 53 NW 1st) Portland two-piece the Bugs are celebrating their third album, Barbaric! Mystical! Bored!, in an unconventional way: with a free release show at new Old Town sandwich shop People's Sandwich of Portland. Barbaric!'s front cover comes from a trippy mural at the infamous Mary's Club, but the music on the 12-inch vinyl is straightforward and a lot of fun. Eighteen brief snippets go from hyper punk to strummy acoustic campfire songs without blinking an eye. The crude, shrugged-off nature of the Bugs' songs is a perfect counterpoint to their garage-pop musicality, and their rumpled songs have plenty of pep without ever becoming agitated. So if you ever wanted to listen to a band while downing a "Hammer and Pickle" sandwich and a side of curly fries, tonight is your night. NL

ARTISTERY EIGHT-YEAR ANNIVERSARY: JONNYX AND THE GROADIES, WHITE FANG, ETERNAL TAPESTRY & MORE

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Many have come and gone, but the Artistery has stuck it out for eight long years now, and will be celebrating with a free show featuring a wide array of talent, from the weird basement chaos of JonnyX and the Groadies, to the stoner metal of Purple Rhinestone Eagle, to the completely out-of-their-mind sounds of White Fang. It's safe to say that this whole event is going to be pretty wild. There will also be catering from the finest cart on Division, the vegan-friendly Los Gorditos. Can't go wrong with that. THEODORA P. KARATZAS

SATURDAY 9/5

WOVENHAND, PILL THIEF

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Goth-country superstar David Eugene Edwards is the son of a preacher man who got his start with the band 16 Horsepower and has been touring with his more explicitly Christian outfit, Wovenhand, since 2002. A bona fide evangelical who's toured with the Pogues and Morphine, Edwards taps a well of old-time, fire-and-brimstone religion. His songs sound like the forgotten backwoods of the Victorian era: gasoline and rattlesnakes and tortured, passionate voices ringing through the swamps. Edwards' cosmos is a haunting, chilling place. BRENDAN KILEY

3 LEG TORSO, SONYA COTTON

(The Woods, 6637 Milwaukie) It's almost been six years since Astor in Paris came out—the second full-length from 3 Leg Torso—and despite some rather interesting detours with David Greenberger, the band has yet to release a record solely devoted to their Balkan/Russian/French sound. That doesn't mean the band isn't interesting; Béla Balogh's violin work is the finest you'll hear outside a symphony hall, and Courtney Von Drehle makes the accordion look easy (which it certainly is not). Known for their "modern chamber music" approach, songs fluidly bounce and bop around on accordion while the band layers more instruments and speeds up until the whole thing bursts into a ridiculous Tetris-esque song that'll keep you entertained all night. PG

SUNDAY 9/6

THE NIGHT MARCHERS, PURE COUNTRY GOLD

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week.

TBA FESTIVAL: LAURA GIBSON, ETHAN ROSE

(PDX Contemporary Art, 925 NW Flanders) Laura Gibson and Ethan Rose seal themselves off in a room with filmmaker Ryan Jeffery for Younger, an unlikely and unique collaboration for the TBA Festival in which the three will be contained in the glass fishbowl of the PDX Contemporary Art gallery. Audiences will be able to observe the work from outside the building during the three-and-a-half-hour duration of the performance, which Gibson describes as a "feedback loop." She'll be making sounds, which Rose will mix and manipulate live, while Jeffery creates images in response to the sound, which in turn will influence the music. Gibson and Rose have been working together on a collaborative album due out in early 2010 here in the States, although a Japanese release and tour are scheduled for this fall. NL

BLACK SUNDAY: SUBARACHNOID SPACE, OVO, ROLLERBALL, DJ NATE C

(Ground Kontrol, 511 NW Couch) Portland's SubArachnoid Space may not be one for the local indie masses—staunchly individualist leader Melynda Jackson probably wouldn't have it any other way—but the group's new album, Eight Bells, isn't the average psychedelic instrumental rock effort, either. It's accessible in the most respectful sense, benefiting from lead guitarist Jackson's sheer will (overcoming several lineup changes in recent years) and, well, perfectionism (on pedals, anyway). Unlike the oft-wandering loose collection of music that is the common "instru-metal" album, each track of Eight Bells makes sense around the others. The arrangements have purpose—not just sound effects dropping you in outer space, but missions with destinations. And live, anchored by Daniel Barone's titanium-strength near-lead bass guitar, SubArachnoid Space are even more solidly effective. MM

SOULSAVERS (FEATURING MARK LANEGAN), JONNEINE ZAPATA, RED GHOST

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Since Screaming Trees dissolved in 2000, Mark Lanegan has been a go-to guy for a number of projects including Queens of the Stone Age, the Gutter Twins, and UK electronic group Bomb the Bass. His raspy baritone leaves an indelible mark on whatever it touches. Since first collaborating on Soulsavers' It's Not How Far You Fall, It's the Way You Land in 2007, Lanegan has again added another sad and stoney dimension to the duo's music. But Lanegan shouldn't get all the credit. With each album, Soulsavers honchos Rich Machin and Ian Glover have fleshed out those downbeat, electronic-gospel dirges, bringing in more live instrumentation as well as other notable collaborators in Will Oldham, Mike Patton, and even Gibby Haynes. MARK LORE

MONDAY 9/7

VIVIAN GIRLS, THE BEETS, EAT SKULL, DJ DOG DAZE

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week.

CASS MCCOMBS, PAPERCUTS, TREVOR GIULIANI

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See Music.

MARILYN MANSON, SEPTEMBER MOURNING

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Do I need to explain why Marilyn Manson is still relevant? Let's see, he's an alcoholic, he's attracted to abusive relationships, and his new albums sound more like the band I was in during high school. I later found that Alice Cooper's actually a better singer, but when you're a kid, volume is the key, and Manson's music was David Bowie meets Die Hard movies. Manson always cultivated an interesting visual and intellectual identity, and if he's still got some of those old props leftover from the Antichrist days it should be worth the cheaper ticket price. JASON LEIVIAN

TUESDAY 9/8

AKRON/FAMILY, EVOLUTIONARY JASS BAND, DATURA BLUES

(Bagdad Theater, 3702 SE Hawthorne) See My, What a Busy Week.

REGGIE WATTS, RORY SCOVEL

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See My, What a Busy Week.

THE WEIGHT, SCOTTY HARLOWE

(East End, 203 SE Grand) Many have hung up the bullet belts of punk rock in exchange for the massive belt buckles of country music, but few have made the transition as gracefully as the Weight. Starting out on the same label that brought us Against Me, this Brooklyn-via-Atlanta act is no stranger to the sins of the bottle, and their most recent self-titled release finds the band at its most stable, dishing out outlaw country tunes quicker than fists fly in a barroom brawl. Slip on your favorite H Bar C shirt, man the fuck up, and throw back some Tennessee whiskey in honor of the Weight. EAC

WEDNESDAY 9/9

BLINK-182, TAKING BACK SUNDAY

(Memorial Coliseum, 300 Winning Way) Neither old age, nor grandiose emo indulgences (Angels and Airwaves), nor fiery plane crashes can stop Blink-182, a band whose not-brief-enough breakup and bad blood seemed purely temporary, if not downright staged. Whether it be (limp) dick jokes, or the Night Before Christmas-influenced faux-goth pop of "I Miss You," Blink-182 have their heels dug so deeply into the desires of mass-marketed pop culture that they are never going to leave us again. Ever. Not sure if that is a good thing or not, but perhaps if the album title Take off Your Pants and Jacket still makes you chuckle—oh come on, grow the fuck up—then you can fall in love at the rock show all over again. EAC

MICHAEL HURLEY, SALLIE FORD AND THE SOUND OUTSIDE, ST. FRANKIE LEE

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) The music of Michael Hurley can be pretty lo-fi and often errs on the side of bluegrass, with the occasional yodel thrown in for good measure. Grisly dude that he is, there's a comforting authenticity found in his music and his pure, organic voice. He's joined by Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside, fresh from traveling the country opening for the Avett Brothers, and St. Frankie Lee, who have been know to bust out a Justin Timberlake cover here and there. TPK

WEINLAND, TELEGRAPH CANYON, FRIDAY MILE

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) If frontman Adam Shearer's husky beard is not already enough visual accompaniment for Weinland's performances, the band will be debuting their video for "I'm Sure It Helps" during tonight's show. From the slivers we have seen, the gorgeously animated clip features footage of a (digital) buffalo and (real life) band members perched in trees. In this YouTube age, video premieres can be a little lackluster, but think back to the thrill and satisfaction you felt staying up until midnight on a Sunday just to watch Lewis Largent (or Downtown Julie Brown, or Dave Kendall, or, god forbid, Matt Pinfield) host 120 Minutes. Tonight will be just like that, but with fewer Ned's Atomic Dustbin videos. EAC