Eva from Alarmist
Confusing Portland audiences for over a year and a half now (how did they keep it together for that long?), the foursome known as Alarmist--whose membership moonlight in about three dozen other hypothetical bands--are calling it quits. Here to sort out the loose extremities is Alarmist's elegant chanteuse Eva, whose cooing and caterwauling manages to seduce any ears brave enough to listen. Alarmist play their last show this Saturday, Nov 27 at Kingdom House, 3829 NE 15th, 8 pm.
State Your Name.
Eva Inca Ore.
State Your Business.
I am singer and piece of mouth for Alarmist. James Squeaky also sings. Nick plays drums. Eric plays electric guitar.
How was the Alarmist Tour? How was the national reception?
Girls shredded their bras. The little children said "Thumbs up!" The two exotic birds we played for were not offended. People who were trying to mate in bars were very discouraged by our music. We sent our mucus like an arrow into their tunics. We palmed the people of the United States. We licked this country and out of our tongues came the most feminine yolk syrup. Even men started to menstruate from this sorcery! I love you pagan people USA.
Alarmist is breaking up? What the Fuck?
Alarmist once practiced in the Cottage [House] R.I.P., and we all lived there at one point too. The day of our first practice, the neighbor planted a seed in his wife and she grew a baby. The baby gestated as we wrote our songs for our album Evil Works Get Rich or Try Dying Evil Works. These songs are about deep danger, non-Christian animals like the koo cow and lion tulip and making female giving-birth noises to the sounds of hardcore music. The married neighbors had their baby in February, near Nick's birthday. We could no longer practice in our home because of the new-hatched child and its sinister sleep schedule. We recorded our album shortly after the birth. The baby is now growing teeth. That's the only explanation for our breakup: Our muse grew incisors.
You're moving away? What the Fuck?
Feminine violence is the only magic left. Oakland is greasier. These bones need oil.
What will you miss the most about Portland?
The secret cult.
Any parting words?
Keep your blood bowl souped and warm because it keeps your cardiac in place.