MARCHFOURTH MARCHING BAND, SAQI
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!
JAGUAR LOVE, SOFT PAWS, DIAMOND LIARS, PARTY GIRLS
(Satyricon, 125 NW 6th) See Music.
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) Who knew? All of a sudden, the Know—the cheap-beer dive bar mecca stranded amid the seemingly endless Thai food restaurants of NE Alberta—has been wooing all sorts of talent to their tiny stage. Jonathan Richman will be making a two-night stand there in May, and this Thursday and Friday it's a pair of shows from local rock and rollers the Shaky Hands. Only a few months old, Let it Die still has plenty of legs to it, proving to be the Shaky Hands' most confident recording to date. The band will be filming both nights for possible release as a DVD, or perhaps a drunken blackmail tape. I'd watch either. EZRA ACE CARAEFF
JARED MEES AND THE GROWN CHILDREN, TYPHOON, KUSIKIA, HOLY
(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) The immense sound and size behind the group introspection of local collective Typhoon demands a new music terminology (I'll take suggestions). It's a pursuit that I imagine many young, inspired people in an emerging metropolis like Portland would dream of following: Join forces with some beautiful and talented young folks, become besties and roommates, make epic, wistful symphonies about young, modern life that delight house-party denizens and music critics alike. Sounds ideal, right? Even so, the 15-plus-member Typhoon needed a breather after an exciting beginning with likeminded cohorts at Boy Gorilla Records. The band is emerging from hiatus with even more members, a new album on the way (Hunger and Thirst), and a bit more life experience (their average age is 21.8 years) on which to base their sprawling compositions. MARANDA BISH
SAMOTHRACE, DISEMBALLERINA, TENSPEED WARLOCK, MARY SHELLEY
(Branx, 320 SE 2nd) Tenspeed Warlock and Disemballerina are two local metal bands standing on complete opposite sides of the sonic spectrum. Saying Tenspeed Warlock is loud would be an understatement. When this trio plays their brand of sludgy, down-tuned, groove-laden doom, inanimate objects start to shift and swivel in the room from the force of their music alone. The band creates some kind of volume wind tunnel when performing, to the point that audience members can actually feel a breeze emanate from their speaker cabinets. Disemballerina, with the best band name in town, are on the absolute opposite end of that spectrum. You won't need earplugs to enjoy their haunting, gothic metal. The string trio encircles their chairs with candles during their performances, creating a serene community atmosphere while they play. ARIS WALES
CHROME WINGS, USF, ASSS, TRACEY TRANCE
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Jon Jurow (Chrome Wings) has been a Northeast Portland basement party staple for years now. And each time you'd show up to watch Chrome Wings, you didn't really know quite what to expect other than it was going to be pretty much mind-blowing. The project, which originally started as a solo venture, has matured greatly as members joined in and then dropped off over time. These days Chrome Wings is collaboration between Jurow and bandmate Shane McDonell, and it's finally hitting its stride. This show marks the release of a very solid debut full-length that can only be described as an atmospheric, Eno-inspired movie soundtrack meets a North Portland electro-basement fallout. MATTEY HUNTER
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Fifteen years after "Gin and Juice," you may wonder how Snoop Dogg, far from a played-out novelty, continues to be a relevant part of mainstream hiphop—and pop—culture. My conclusion is that he is deceptively savvy; while making a legacy and caricature of himself through "-izzle" and his reality TV work, Snoop never stopped making fresh contributions to his gangster rap roots, including 2009's "Gangsta Luv," a masterpiece of poetic pimpery ("Workin' you like a shift/I give it to you like a gift"). Meanwhile, he is married to his high-school sweetheart, coaches high-school sports, and was recently named creative chairman of seminal West Coast gangster rap label Priority, charged with its re-launch to relevancy in the digital age. So how does he do it? In his own words, "Even though it's all for the ladies, I know exactly how to keep it straight G, ya dig?" Yes Snoop, I do. MB
HOLCOMBE WALLER AND THE HEALERS, STORM LARGE (7 PM); SPECIAL GUESTS (10 PM)
(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) See My, What a Busy Week!
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) See Thursday's listing.
THE SMITH WESTERNS
(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) Chicago's the Smith Westerns take the lo-fi garage fuzz that spread all over the blogs last year and attach it to platform-heeled, glitter-strewn glam rock straight outta 1973. Portland's own Nice Boys have done a similar thing in recent years, and the Smith Westerns' melodies are just as good as that band's, finding the common ground between Marc Bolan and Joey Ramone. It's a great combination, with crunchy static smeared all over nostalgic boy-girl melodies, saving them from saccharine overkill; the Smith Westerns' self-titled debut is an undeniably fun mess. NED LANNAMANN
I CAN LICK ANY SONOFABITCH IN THE HOUSE, KLEVELAND, DRY COUNTY CROOKS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House (say it three times fast) blasts out country-punk tunes played at maximum speed and volume. It's music that's played from the heart... and the beer-logged gut, not the brain. For five years the hairy-faced quintet—led by ringleader Mike Damron—got their ya-ya's out by packing barrooms with heathens, usually while berating right-wing nuts along the way. In 2007, ICLASOBITH called it quits, possibly when we needed them the most. The band just reformed, and will perform at their old haunt (Dante's) tonight. And while the political climate has changed, and Damron is said to have battled his demons, there's still no reason to believe that the band won't lick every sonofabitch in the house. MARK LORE
PDX POP NOW! BENEFIT: TYPHOON, YEAH GREAT FINE, OCEAN AGE
(Burgerville, 1122 SE Hawthorne) See My, What a Busy Week!
DJ CEDRIC BIXLER, DJ NOBODY
(Beauty Bar, 111 SW Ash) See My, What a Busy Week!
MIMICKING BIRDS, TU FAWNING, AH HOLLY FAM'LY, THE LORDS OWN CHOIR
(Mission Theater, 1624 NW Glisan) See Music.
SWELLEBRATION: SALLIE FORD AND THE SOUND OUTSIDE, DIRTY MITTENS, YELTSIN, & MORE
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) While you guzzle a tallboy in honor of Mississippi Studios' one-year anniversary, don't forget tonight's other celebration for local act Yeltsin, who are using this show as a de facto release party for their new Rhinestone Glow LP. It'd be a shame if a record this good—loaded to the brim with shimmering alt-pop music—got lost in the shuffle. Frontman Jacob Pavlak has a knack for pop melodies that aren't too far from the finest moments of Superdrag (think In the Valley of Dying Stars, not the awkward post-reunion born-again years that followed) and are definitely worth a "Swellebration" of their own. EAC Also see My, What a Busy Week!.
NIGHTCLUBBING: NICE NICE, OPERATIVE, LINGER AND QUIET, DJ NEW MOON PONCHO
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Nice to have you back, Nice Nice! The duo of Jason Buehler and Mark Shirazi have spent the past three years hatching their new full-length Extra Wow, which finally comes out April 6 on Warp Records. And it's worth the wait—a dizzy, galloping record that displays the unfuckwithable chops of both musicians as they construct a wild bath of noise. "One Hit" explodes a one-note riff, while "On and On" flirts with jungle rhythms, and the droning architecture of album closer "It's Here" steadily builds to its release. Like the best krautrockers, Nice Nice bring together disparate parts into a propulsive forward motion that's exciting and unrelenting. NL
GUNSLINGERS, CHAIN AND THE GANG, THE STRANGE BOYS, NIGHTBEATS
(East End, 203 SE Grand) The artistic destruction that Ian Svenonius gloriously leaves in his wake probably makes him one of punk culture's most captivating figures. But few of his projects ever come to fruition—with the possible exception of his bafflingly wondrous The Psychic Soviet booklet—normally fading out with as much intrigue as they first arrived. Chain and the Gang is his latest rock and roll venture—he often mans the decks as a DJ as well—and while their loose garage-soul sound lacks the fascination of Nation of Ulysses (or Cupid Car Club, or the Make-Up, or Weird War), there are still few things in this world better than watching this man perform on stage. EAC
MIDLAKE, MATTHEW AND THE ARROGANT SEA
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Midlake had the unenviable task of following up their 2006 breakthrough, The Trials of Van Occupanther, and its splendid single "Roscoe," which turned out to be one of the best songs of the decade. They followed it up with The Courage of Others, an album that the almighty Pitchfork panned, and fair-weather listeners were subsequently quick to denounce. But The Courage of Others is a slow-growing and majestic pleasure, and if nothing is as immediately striking as "Roscoe," its best songs are deeper and more involved, wonderfully evoking '70s folk-rock at its spookiest and spindliest. The baroque "Rulers, Ruling All Things" sounds like a coked-out king on his way to a bloody downfall, and the song's proggy, folky backdrop begins with subtle shades that grow to a powerful end. Midlake have perhaps let down some of their new fans, but in doing so have created a record whose appeal is undeniable to those receptive to it. NL
MIKE COYKENDALL, THE LEWI LONGMIRE BAND
(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) Like Willy Vlautin of Richmond Fontaine, Mike Coykendall doesn't really have a musical plot in the Portland music scene to call his own. It's not a slight on this clearly talented songwriter, who has quite the impressive history of musical accomplishments (his previous band, the Old Joe Clarks, plus a longtime gig twirling knobs as a studio hired gun for the aforementioned Vlautin, M. Ward, Beth Orton, and more). It's just that Coykendall falls in between the gaps of being too spry to be an elder statesman, yet not part of the young man's game that local music so often is. Regardless where you file him, The Unbearable Being of Likeness, Coykendall's latest, is a solid collection of exceptionally assembled songs from a singer/songwriter who takes great pride in his craft. Opening track "Good One" feels like the greatest song Robert Pollard never wrote (which is saying something), while Coykendall's croaked vocals on the hazy "Spacebaker Blues" show another side of the artist completely. EAC
LITTLE BOOTS, DRAGONETTE, CLASS ACTRESS, RUDE DUDES
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Fumes of the latest electro-pop craze: Dragonette are a Canadian outfit whose best song remains their sassy cover/answer song to Calvin Harris' "The Girls," retitled "The Boys" ("I get all the boys/I get all the boys"). More promising by far is Little Boots, a young Britisher named Victoria Christina Hesketh who got her start with short-lived mid-'00s dance-rock act Dead Disco, and then returned via a series of YouTube videos of herself playing fun solo piano cover versions of songs like Kid Cudi's "Day 'n' Nite" and Wiley's "Wearing My Rolex." On her proper solo debut, Hands, Hesketh's sweet, radio-ready voice and able piano playing are backed by the likes of Hot Chip's Joe Goddard and Simian Mobile Disco's Jas Shaw on production and the Human League's Philip Oakey on guest vocals. It's a confectionary album, but still nothing's quite as sticking as the clock-ticking, synth-heavy Kylie-redux "Stuck on Repeat" (and even that is a song you can get out of your head). ERIC GRANDY Also see My, What a Busy Week!
THE CAVE SINGERS, THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE, THE MOONDOGGIES
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) I don't mean to alarm you or anything, but it seems a wee bit suspicious that three of Seattle's strongest bands are sneaking across the Columbia and joining forces for a triple bill tonight. There's the Cave Singers, who spearhead the attack with artillery packed with glowing folk cannonballs. Then there's the classic rock boogie of the Moondoggies, whose muskets always hit their mark. But the ones to really watch out for are the Dutchess and the Duke, whose wily folk strummings can pierce with all the efficacy of the sharpest bayonet. It's the Seattle invasion we've feared ever since grunge broke. Our only defense is to head them off at the battlefield—i.e., the Doug Fir—and stand our ground. NL
EXPLODE INTO COLORS, JANET PANTS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Sure, we've all longed for the ladies of Explode into Colors to be thinking of us while they traverse the great highways of America, touring in support of whatever new 7-inch they just released. But in lieu of contorting your body to fit into Lisa Schonberg's bass drum case—not recommended—it ain't gonna happen. Until now. Admittance to tonight's kick-off show is either a five-dollar cover (don't do this), or a personal mixtape from you to the band (do this). Explode into Colors is desperate for tunes during those agonizing van rides across the Midwest, so make them something special and that way they'll be thinking of you during those long drives. Just no slow jams, okay? That's a little creepy. EAC
BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB, THE WHIGS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Despite their habitually sinister nomenclature, kohl-colored wardrobe, and occult superstitions (they once released a record at 3:33 am on Halloween night), Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's new record, Beat the Devil's Tattoo, is targeted at audiences 12 and younger! Just kidding. But this anticipated album (out March 9) does well to combine elements of raw garage rock with the foot-stomping folk revival sessions heard on their much howled-about Howl. One track in particular, "River Styx," is bound to restore your faith in rock and roll made post-Adam Lambert. Once you figure out that the song is about the mythological river that splits the human world and Hades and not a tribute to the great minds that birthed "Mr. Roboto," you can lose yourself in the impossibly dirty slide guitar and before you know it, you're marching to the Willamette for a glimpse of the other side. RAQUEL NASSER
BASIA BULAT, IVAN AND ALYOSHA
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See Music.
THE COOL KIDS, PAC DIV
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) At least half of the Cool Kids name is accurate; these Chicago backpack hiphoppers are eminently cool—LL Cool J circa "I'm that Type of Guy" cool. The Cool Kids—Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish—strip down hiphop to cold-blooded essentials: Robitussin'ed, funky boom-bap; colon-cleansing bass; and just-woke-up braggadocio raps. They're also fond of deploying backing-up car-engine noise and ripped masking tape for percussive purposes. This sort of methodical, stark approach just oozes the kind of cool that you can't fake—it's nonchalance as a way of life. Paradoxically, their laidback aloofness draws you way in to their chill realm. Further paradoxically, this music's so retro, it sounds bang-up-to-the-minute fresh; so blasé, it blazes. DAVE SEGAL Also see My, What a Busy Week!
THE APPLESEED CAST, DREAMEND
(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) The Appleseed Cast was never supposed to be the sort of band that made records like Low Level Owl: Volume I (or its slightly less impressive sequel, Low Level Owl: Volume II). Formerly known as December's Tragic Drive—a name even Jeremy Enigk would cringe at—the Lawrence, Kansas, band was aligned with the embarrassing Deep Elm label and was the sort of mid-level emo act you'd see only on an off-night (or when it had been months since Christie Front Drive or Boy's Life passed through town). But come fall of 2001 the band wisely released the dual recordings to fulfill their Deep Elm deal, and they offered up an unseen side of the band in the process. Gone were the dramatics, and in their place a sparse, stitched-together pattern of spacious post-rock that borrowed plenty from the Radiohead playbook yet still displayed the band's Midwest DIY roots. Tonight they'll do both records in succession and in their entirety, proving that, yes, there can be life after emo. EAC
THE BLACK DAHLIA MURDER, OBSCURA, AUGURY, HATESPHERE
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) The Black Dahlia Murder must have a lot of faith in their fanbase. Instead of touring with lesser opening acts that will warm up their crowd, they have brought along Obscura and Augury, two worldly up-and-coming bands that are guaranteed to blow the BDM's formulaic death-metal-core off the stage every night of their tour. Obscura, hailing from Munich, Germany, recently nabbed former members of Necrophagist and Pestilence to round out their seasoned lineup and create mind-melting technical death metal. Augury, down from Montreal, brings extremely progressive death metal with acoustic interludes that make it borderline compositional. Both bands display more talent, skill, and creativity than BDM could ever dream to have. Unfortunately for the headliners, after the seven-course meal that is Obscura and Augury, the crowd likely won't have much of an appetite. AW
WEINLAND, THE MALDIVES, OR THE WHALE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) After immediately following up La Lamentor with last year's Breaks in the Sun, Weinland have been busily delivering their earnest, heartfelt folk-rock straight to your ears nonstop for the past couple years. It's fair to say they've earned themselves a little break. After tonight's show (and tomorrow's in Seattle) the Portland group is taking a few months off, so get your last taste for a while. Not to worry, though; they'll be back with a tour in the fall, with the promise of new material just over the horizon. Meanwhile, frontman Adam Shearer says this: "I bought an electric guitar and I intend to rock on it for a song or two." Fainthearted Weinland fans, you have been warned. NL
A SUNNY DAY IN GLASGOW, BEACHES, ORCA TEAM, DJ VISION QUEST
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See Music.
YOU SAY PARTY! WE SAY DIE!, WE MISS THE EARTH, TROPICAL DEPRESSION
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) You Say Party! We Say Die! probably pissed off the xx with their latest album, which is titled XXXX (the xx should counter with a release called !!!!). The British Columbia, Canada, quintet work in a similarly seductive dance-pop niche as the xx, but YSP! WSD! are more demonstrative than their peers, with Becky Ninkovic's dramatic, Karen O/Siouxsie Sioux belting and the band's Blondie-esque new-wave bravado lending a warmer, more robust and urgent tenor to proceedings. This is primarily music for the slightly smarter than average 21-and-under set; it's full of verve and catchy tunes, and will likely fall into heavy rotation at certain salons and youth-trending clothing merchants. DS Also see My, What a Busy Week!
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) For a while after their breakup, it seemed like ex-Soul Coughing singer Mike Doughty would never get the respect he deserved. For years his old band languished in one-hit-wonder purgatory while he trucked around the country selling his sparse, wrenching debut, Skittish, out of the trunk of a rental car. The last five years have been kinder, if kind of disappointing. Doughty has earned his stripes as a solo act and steadily traded them in for bland, adult-contemporary cache. But even when he's palling around with Dave Matthews, Doughty remains a solid live act and a stirring writer, so don't write him off yet—50,000 soccer moms can't be wrong. DAVE BOW