WEDNESDAY 10/14

VIKESH KAPOOR, JOHANNA WARREN, ORA COGAN
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!

DEAN WEEN GROUP
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) It's been almost half a decade since New Hope, Pennsylvania, rockers Ween graced Portland with their eclectic blend of absurdist pop and oddball rock. In that time, both Aaron Freeman and Mickey Melchiondo—better known as Gene and Dean Ween—have taken a joint custody approach in pleasing their devout fanbase. In 2014, Dean stopped by with his hard rock band Moistboyz, while Gene hit the stage as Freeman, where he turned in a performance that focused heavily on Ween favorites. The Long Islander in me is still hoping to catch Gene's seemingly farcical, but totally wholehearted Billy Joel tribute act, but tonight, it's Dean's turn to revisit the past. Flanked by a band of veteran musicians, including Ween bassist Dave Dreiwitz, keyboardist Glenn McClelland, and drummer Claude Coleman Jr., the Dean Ween Group are in a position to give the town the freshest coat of brown paint it's seen in years. CHIPP TERWILLIGER

QUIET LIFE, COTTON JONES, WIDOWER
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) In the most underrated, modest, and precise way, Cotton Jones manages to accomplish what damn near every band strives for. They capture that timeless, space-less element. They've (long ago) surpassed the pigeonhole of being a buzz band. Their sound isn't just summer jams or winter melancholy, (though maybe it's a bit of both). With an easygoing Americana swagger loosely coated by a psychedelic sheen, Michael Nau and Whitney McGraw's effortless harmonies sit right in the pocket, and songs like "I Am the Changer" and "Somehow to Keep It Going" bring the listener to a place so sonically endearing, it hits a nerve. ROBIN BACIOR

CUNTZ, THERAPISTS, BOBBY PERU, MORE HELL
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) Since you'll undoubtedly be asked about this years from now, you need to get it settled: Where did you come down on the great Cuntz debate of '15? The Australian quartet is no stranger to controversy—indeed, their name assures plenty of press where there would perhaps be none (this blurb, for instance). The latest dust-up came just last week, when a show scheduled for Seattle's Victory Lounge was canceled by the promoter after complaints from locals (somehow not led by Tipper Gore ca. 1988). That performance ended up happening elsewhere, but it seems a double-standard is at hand: It's not like this kind of thing follows around the likes of German footballer Matthias Cuntz or famed neuroscientist Hermann Cuntz. Well, is it? I'm with Lenny Bruce on this one. Tonight's show at the Know is still a go, which is good, because Cuntz specialize in the kind of snotty, brash, 90-second punk the Know hangs its hat on—in other words, they sound every bit their name. JEREMY PETERSEN

THURSDAY 10/15

DOOMTREE, ASTRONAUTALIS, SISTER CRAYON
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!

CONFLICT, TOTAL CHAOS, RUM REBELLION, THE ESCAPED, MDC
(Bossanova Ballroom, 722 E Burnside) That's right, folks: The band from the backpatch has decided to hop a time machine straight out of Thatcher-era Britain and appear live in Portland. Not as musically singular as Crass or Discharge, Conflict won hearts and minds with pure charm. Their records are chaotically inventive affairs, mixing aggressive pub rock with new wave-slagging piss-takes and maudlin, operatic chanting. Conflict always came off as a group of reformed lads—they had the air of soccer hooligans who cared—but that made their music more accessible. Sure, Thatcher has been out of office for, oh, a few weeks now, and the threat of imminent nuclear warfare has dissipated just a bit (although Linkin Park's Minutes to Midnight tried to revive that motif), but isn't that always the conundrum with revolutionary music? Is it still a battle hymn if all you do is just hum along? "You cannot win a nuclear war!" MAC POGUE

FOG FATHER, TENDER AGE, SINLESS
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) It's 1990, and Twin Peaks and 90210 are dominating your TV time, filling you up with synthed-out slow jams as West Coast ennui beats on. It's in this other dimension that Fog Father lives, with washed-out surf wafting in from the Coast in keytastic vibrations. Fog Father tune you in to a soundtrack for a slow dance with that special someone you always dreamed of at homecoming. The always-captivating band pairs up with Tender Age, who just released their "Get High" 7-inch, coinciding with Oregon's recent weed legalization, and new breakout band Sinless. A show to invite that man or woman you dug on all summer and want to snuggle close with before winter, this one's for the lovers. JENI WREN STOTTRUP

SAVAGE MASTER, BEWITCHER, HECTIC SHOCK
(High Water Mark, 6800 NE MLK) There are a lot of sultry witches fronting heavy bands these days. While it's good to get a little Stevie Nicks-y now and again, it'd be nice to see more Wendy O. Williams or Betsy Bitch types out there for a change. For those looking for ladies that can snarl and wail like a beast and clench their fists as tight as the boys, Louisville's Savage Master have the ticket for you. Fronted by Stacey Peak and rounded out by four black-hooded marauders, Savage Master cranks out crunchy heavy metal that's as evil as it is mean. With song titles like "The Ripper in Black," "Black Hooves," and lyrics that threaten "if you're not home by midnight/you won't be back," it's quite clear that Savage Master is more leather and chains, and less fringe and floppy hats. ARIS WALES

FRIDAY 10/16

OUGHT, DRUNKEN PALMS, HALEY HEYNDERICKX
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) See My, What a Busy Week!

SKYLAR SPENCE, KERO KERO BONITO
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Ryan DeRobertis's career has been one of subtle remodeling around a solid foundation; he was formerly the copyright-baiting disco revisionist Saint Pepsi and now has been reborn as synth-pop superstar Skylar Spence. His new record, Prom King, is all sparkle and eye shadow, an overproduced monument to the legacy of the '80s, with none of the cocaine comedown. Early singles "Fiona Coyne" and "Fall Harder" were harbingers, leaning toward the Toro y Moi end of the chillwave-turned-dance spectrum. The album as a whole is a maximalist pleasuredome of vintage keyboards and new-school studio trickery. Openers Kero Kero Bonito are the J-Pop/PC Music-influenced kawaii pop troupe you never knew you needed, but it gets a solid thumbs-up emoji from these quarters. KYLE FLECK

ALUNAGEORGE, ROME FORTUNE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Listening to AlunaGeorge feels like starting out your Saturday evening in a posh London cocktail lounge, with surprisingly good apps and beautifully stiff cocktails. Everyone is young but not too young, and the bartender is very polite. The UK electropop duo serves up fresh beats and sweet babydoll vocals with thoughtful lyrics. Members Aluna Francis and George Reid put out their first album in 2013, and have since released a handful of singles. The pair have collaborated with big-name acts like Lorde and Disclosure, and even garnered a spot on Billboard when DJ Snake remixed their song "You Know You Like It." Though they're not promoting a new album, AlunaGeorge's complex, melodic, beat-driven tunes will provide at the very least a hip-bopping set. ROSE FINN

HAPPY DAGGER, TELEPORTER 4, SWANSEA
(Kelly's Olympian, 426 SW Washington) After a few years as a student at Lewis & Clark College, I have come to understand the school's micro music scene as dominated by the rotating folk-jam band whose intentions do not reach beyond goofing off with friends at a coffeehouse open mic. And while I would not put it past Happy Dagger, the school's latest small venue mainstay, to play a 12-minute jam, the band differs in that their songs are based in legitimately catchy pop melodies. Portland's current rock moment seems rooted in '60s psych worship, but where most bands have gone the route of lo-fi garage fuzz, Happy Dagger's songwriter Jesse Robertson has taken it to the opposite genre-extreme, making maximalist fractal-pop akin to Tame Impala. Their latest digital release, Pareidolia, breathes with washed-out reverberations and expansive synth-groove beats. CAMERON CROWELL

THE URINALS, MEAN JEANS, SEX CRIME, THE BUGS
(Dante's, 350 W Burnside) The Urinals doubled down on punk's bluff—that anything could be a song—and made fleeting, allusive songs about made-up sounds, vague feelings, and ideas. The group's follow-up act, 100 Flowers, even incorporated the one sound too profane to include in punk—the synthesizer—in memorable songs like 1983's "Horizontal." One has to wonder what brought this Urinals reunion about, given their status as a sort of "band's band" back in the day (their biggest exposure might have been the Minutemen's cover of the closest thing the band had to a thesis statement—"Ack Ack Ack Ack") but I get the feeling the real truth is these questions don't matter. Is it a cash-in or true artistry? Is it nostalgia or a new experience? Is it a urinal, or is it a fountain? MP

BOLZER, RITUAL NECROMANCY, TORTURE RACK, DAEMONIIS AD NOCTUM
(Panic Room, 3100 NE Sandy) The Swiss death/black metal duo Bolzer was awash in hails from the metal underground last year. The combo released the second in a pair of thematically linked EPs, plus they delivered a couple of much-ballyhooed sets at the annual Maryland Deathfest. The degree of über-hype Bolzer earned makes kneejerk backlash an easy fallback position, but those two EPs—Aura and Soma—remain stunning. They blend the primal aggression of black metal with the heaviness of death metal, and while "atmosphere" for a lot metal bands comes at the expense of riffs, they coexist in perfect disharmony in Bolzer's bulldozing. MATTHEW W. SULLIVAN

WILD BELLS, THE HUGS, VAUDEVILLE ETIQUETTE
(The Secret Society, 116 NE Russell) For myriad reasons, it took Wild Bells 12 months to record four songs. (Shifting lineups, crashed hard drives—you know the drill.) It's a testament, then, that their new May Pang EP doesn't sound overly fussed over. While it's certainly a pretty and polished-sounding effort, Wild Bells' gentle rainy-day pop—reminiscent of Brits like the Clientele and those four lads from Liverpool—has a genial immediacy that's as warming as a mug of tea. Needless to say, it's all over too quickly. Let's hope it doesn't take Wild Bells another three months per song to follow it up. NED LANNAMANN

SATURDAY 10/17

MADONNA, MICHAEL DIAMOND
(Moda Center, 1 N Center Ct) See our special Madonna feature.

BULLY, HEAT, DEAD SOFT
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) See My, What a Busy Week!

ALELA DIANE AND RYAN FRANCESCONI, DAMIEN JURADO
(Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark) Read our article on Alela Diane and Ryan Francesconi.

KURT VILE AND THE VIOLATORS, CASS MCCOMBS, HERON OBLIVION
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Read our article on Kurt Vile.

SALAD BOYS, LOVE COP, LUBEC
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) Read our article on Salad Boys.

BENEFIT FOR EDDIE SPAGHETTI
(Dante's, 350 W Burnside) For almost 30 years, Eddie Spaghetti has exacted a particularly colorful brand of punk-rock machismo. Through his primary creative vessel, The Supersuckers, Spaghetti has taken on demons, made tangents into hard-livin' country, and performed and recorded with the likes of Willie Nelson, Steve Earle, Eddie Vedder, and more. Spaghetti was diagnosed with stage 3 oropharynx cancer earlier this year and is undergoing heavy radiation treatments. Obviously, all the good vibes you can muster go a long way, but one particularly great way to help out is this stacked benefit show, curated by Spaghetti's bud Michael Dean Damron of Portland legends I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House. All proceeds go directly to a fund to help Spaghetti fight his cancer. If you can't make it, you can also donate directly at supersuckers.com/eddie. RYAN J. PRADO

SUNDAY 10/18

NOBUNNY, PATSY'S RATS, PHANTOM FAMILY
(Analog Café, 720 SE Hawthorne) See All-Ages Action!

DEATH, GUANTANAMO BAYWATCH
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) What's new with original Detroit proto-punks Death? For one, they have a new record out on Drag City called N.E.W.—their first full-length recording since 1976! Drag City is also reissuing the first three classic Death LPs on vinyl in a boxed set with a nifty bright green screenprinted cover. For two, the Smithsonian's new National Museum of African American History will feature a tribute to the trio, calling them not just the first black punk band, but "the first-ever punk band" when the museum opens in Washington, DC, in 2016. Thirdly, Death bassist Bobby Hackney recently wrote a music memoir called Rock 'n' Roll Victims—about which Hackney says, "I was thinking about younger generations of readers who could learn not only from the history of our band but the history of Detroit." KELLY O

BOOSIE BADAZZ, CLEMM RISHAD, SKY CITY
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Depending on whom you ask, Baton Rouge rapper Boosie Badazz may be the most underrated guy in the game. Admittedly, he handicapped himself with that whole first-degree murder charge and ensuing jail time (tough to manage a career from a cell, though plenty have tried), but his undeniable charisma and relentless street bangers ensured his name would never be far from the minds of Southern rap fans. Upon his release last year, Boosie dropped Touchdown 2 Cause Hell, a neat summation of his talents, from tried-and-true gangsta anthems and Tupac-esque weepy ballads ("Black Heaven") to faker-hating battle rhymes and shots at the chart ("All I Know"). It's good to have Boosie back. KYLE FLECK

FUR COATS, MOON BY YOU, FEEL YOUNG
(Rontoms, 600 E Burnside) If ever there were a cure for the autumn blues, it's this Sunday's edition of Rontoms' Sunday Sessions. With the shows back indoors, intimacy is paramount, and there may be no other band that relies on the intimacy of a crowd than the fantastic Fur Coats. Cramped though they may be, the neo-R&B collective is guaranteed to push the boundaries of their feel-good milieu, as this is the official release show for their long-awaited 10-inch record, Desperate. The EP's title track has been floating around a while, having previously been released on the 2014 PDX Pop Now! compilation, but the remaining tracks run the gamut of hazy '60s psychedelia ("Don't Worry") and haunted doowop ("Grey Man"). With the equally show-stopping Moon by You on the bill, this show is the perfect excuse to call in sick on Monday. We'll write you a note. RJP

MONDAY 10/19

DEAFHEAVEN, TRIBULATION
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!

TUESDAY 10/20

DEERHUNTER, ATLAS SOUND
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!

THOU, THE BODY, HEAT DUST, TENSOR
(Black Water Bar, 835 NE Broadway) Read our article on Thou.

DANIEL ROMANO AND THE TRILLIUMS, KACY AND CLAYTON, DYLAN EARL
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Don't let the boldly colored, flamboyantly embroidered suits worn by Daniel Romano fool you—he's no cornball. He is, rather, a reverent purveyor of classic country. And though they might not scan as such to today's eye, the look signifies the same. (Named for creator Nudie Cohn, "Nudie" suits were popularized by the pillars of the genre: Porter Wagoner, George Jones, Gram Parsons, and so on.) Romano is also inheritor of the genre's traditional grammar: simple verse-chorus-bridge structures, clever turns of phrase, and a lurking melancholy. Take, for example, Romano's live solo performance of "The One That Got Away" on YouTube. A spindly frame belies a strikingly big, expressive voice. "I'd catch you crying for no reason," sings Romano, "but the truth." Much of his catalog, including his most recent LP, If I've Only One Time Askin', traces similar, lilting cracks of heartbreak. With a little, Romano does a lot. ANDREW R TONRY Also see My, What a Busy Week!

ROGER McGUINN
(Alberta Rose Theatre, 3000 NE Alberta) Roger McGuinn is a long-time folkie whom y'all will prolly remember as a founder of the seminal folk-rock/psychedelic group the Byrds—who also are known for MAYBE being the second proper country-rock band. After the Byrds split in 1973, McGuinn settled into a solo career, and by the mid '90s he'd become a folk archivist preserving old recordings as well as recording his takes of traditional folk songs. As for his live show, I'd expect he'll trot out a few Byrds classics and some tracks from his solo records, but the heart will be his performance of older folk songs and his stories. I guess McGuinn has evolved into something like a contemporary songster as he's keeping the aural and oral American folk tradition alive. MIKE NIPPER

VIET CONG, GRAVE BABIES
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) It's a shame—not unfair, but a shame—that Viet Cong's music has had to compete for attention with the controversy surrounding its name, with its racial, social, and historical implications. The Calgary-based quartet's self-titled debut album came out way back in January, and while it was immediately lauded as a top-shelf slab of sneering post-punk, repeated listens have proven it to be a record with serious legs, too. Seven tracks long, the thing mostly rumbles and snarls, building towers of tension only to topple them with well-timed sunbursts of psychedelic pop. Viet Cong can drop a sonic sledgehammer and flash a serrated smile within seconds of each other, and they do it better than the vast majority of their contemporaries. Anyway, they recently announced they're changing their name, though they haven't said what the new one is yet. Whatever it is, hopefully it puts the focus where it should be: on the music. BEN SALMON

BODY SHAME, ALTO!, CONSUMER
(Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny) It stands to reason that when I met the gent (who prefers to remain nameless) behind Body Shame, it was outside Holocene, with both of us basking in the afterglow of a particularly mindblowing set by Autechre. The music that this anonymous lad creates is equally as fragmented, blasted-out, enveloping, and distressingly beautiful as what those two dudes from the UK cook up. Instead of utilizing the influence of electro and hip-hop as Autechre does, though, Body Shame's debut cassette for local experimental imprint SadoDaMascus Records, Humiliate Yourself in Public, trades those in for the pummeling doom-metal drum hits and concussion-grenade basslines of industrial music, evoking a delicious collaboration between Throbbing Gristle and Prurient. ROBERT HAM

GOLDEN RETRIEVER CHAMBER ENSEMBLE
(The Old Church, 1422 SW 11th) In September, local experimental act Golden Retriever offered up a sneak peek at Holocene of what was on the horizon. They took the stage with an expanded live lineup that filled out the already dense and luscious sounds created by core duo Jonathan Sielaff's bass clarinet and Matt Carlson's modular synth work. Tonight, the band go one step further, enlisting a 12-piece chamber ensemble to debut a brand new composition within the hallowed walls of the Old Church. With the help of a grant from the Regional Arts and Culture Council, the show gives the pair a chance to further explore their innovative blend of electronic and acoustic improvisation. If you've ever witnessed Golden Retriever live, or taken in the band's excellent 2014 album, Seer, you already know tonight's performance will be something special. If you're not already acquainted, here's the perfect time to become familiar. CT