WEDNESDAY 10/12
TACOCAT, COCKEYE, THE BEDROOMS (Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark) Candy! Aliens! These are two critical components of Tacocat’s new record, Lost Time. This title references a recurring phenomenon in The X-Files, and its opening track “Dana Katherine Scully” pays homage to the ’90s TV show’s brave and reasonable heroine. Listening is like swan diving into an ocean of colorful gummy candies, and its 12 tracks of surf-punk sound turbo-charged by this sugar high. The truth is out there, and it’s Tacocat. CIARA DOLAN Also read our story on Tacocat.
HELADO NEGRO, LIKE A VILLAIN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) As Helado Negro, Roberto Carlos Lange creates shimmering and effervescent synth-pop that inhabits the twilight spaces between cultures. Born in South Florida to Ecuadorian parents and currently based in New York, Lange imbues his music with the heat and bright party sounds of Latin America, and often switches between Spanish and English. It’s crafted with musical dexterity—record samples, loops, synths, and a myriad of live instruments are the building blocks of Lange’s electro-psych-pop dreams. An accomplished producer (he produced Prefuse 73’s Everything She Touched Turned Ampexian) and collaborator (he’s worked with Julianna Barwick and Trey Pollard), Helado Negro promises a minimalist but captivating performance. DANIELA SERNA
THURSDAY 10/13
LOCAL CUT: PHONE CALL, FRINGE CLASS, RASHEED JAMAL, DJ LAMAR LEROY
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Often billed as an opener (as he is here), and impressing crowds as a guest performer, Rasheed Jamal is so underrated it’s almost criminal. And when he’s live, his flow is just as sure-footed and succinct as his recordings, making the case for a promising come-up. The LOCAL CUT crowd will likely see him rip through some of his countless solid tracks like “Urban Decay,” and “Speeding in Slow Motion,” which utilizes the same sample as Bryson Tiller’s “Don’t.” JENNI MOORE
CHOOK RACE, SLEEPING BEAUTIES, ALTO
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) People of Portland, let’s take just a second to thank the pop-rock gods for Melbourne, Australia—that distant, beautiful city that has given us artists like Courtney Barnett, Twerps, Dick Diver, and Scott & Charlene’s Wedding… and that’s just in the past few years. Now it’s giving us Chook Race, a trio well equipped to follow in the same tradition. The band’s new album, Around the House, pairs warm, jangling electric guitars and restless bass lines with vocal melodies so irresistible, they shine through the deliciously dead-eyed delivery of Matt Liveriadis and Carolyn Hawkins. There are ba-ba-bas here and whoa-oh-ohs there, and a couple of slower songs for variety. But generally speaking, Chook Race is yet another Flying Nun-influenced feather in Melbourne’s cap. What’s in the water over there? Who knows—I just hope they don’t stop drinking it. BEN SALMON
FRIDAY 10/14
AAN, J&L DEFER
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) The title of J&L Defer’s debut full-length, No Map, loudly announces the intentions of Zurich-based musicians Anita Rufer and Gabriele De Mario. The duo’s new project expands on the experimental leanings of their primary band, the long-running noise-pop outfit (and Built to Spill tour mates) Disco Doom. No Map’s striking collage of piano, guitar, analog synths, and drum machines oscillates between ambient meandering and hypnotic pulsing—always seemingly headed somewhere, but often unsure where that may be. But the music itself isn’t impossible to navigate: J&L Defer might claim to be working free of genre constraints, but the record’s best moments—like its gripping single “Hard Fiction Road”—showcase the duo’s ability to pluck incessantly catchy pop melodies from an experimental haze. NATHAN TUCKER
C.J. RAMONE, TOYGUITAR, MEAN JEANS
(Dante’s, 350 W Burnside) On their sophomore record, Move Like a Ghost, Bay Area punks ToyGuitar deal in sharp blasts of jangly pop that belie their street punk credentials. Comprised of members from Swingin’ Utters, One Man Army, and other SF punk stalwarts, ToyGuitar’s melodic sensibilities shouldn’t appear too big a departure, considering vocalist/guitarist Jack Dalrymple’s songwriting talents. On tunes as catchy as “Stoned Under a New Moon,” Dalrymple’s croon lets a fussy garage foundation lay the groundwork for a satisfyingly upbeat love song. The somber “Turn It Around” was written in memoriam of former One Man Army bassist Heiko Schrepel, who died last year at age 39. The 10-inch’s six lithe tracks conjure the slick spirit of 45 RPM EPs, glossing brilliant pop cuts at a short-and-sweet clip. RYAN J. PRADO
SKELETONWITCH, IRON REAGAN, OATHBREAKER, GATECREEPER, ORDER OF THE GASH
(The Raven, 3100 NE Sandy) Belgian black metal band Oathbreaker’s new record, Rheia, is an absolute beast. Of course, black metal is only a small part of what Oathbreaker does. The band also takes elements of hardcore, and adds strokes of electronic music to create atmospheric passages that crack the black-metal mold just enough. If purists can’t get down with Oathbreaker, they need to loosen up their spiked belts a notch. What pushes the band above the pack is the vocal delivery of Caro Tanghe, whose range—gentle whispers to blood-curdling screams—is almost extraterrestrial. Expect weird, scary dreams following this show—that’s a compliment. MARK LORE
JAMES BLAKE, MOSES SUMNEY
(Roseland Theater, 8 NW 6th) If you’ve got tickets to this sold-out show, you’re probably looking forward to English producer James Blake’s subtle balladry and silky-smooth vocals. Blake’s recent collaborations with Beyoncé, Frank Ocean, Vince Staples, and Bon Iver have only compounded everyone’s love for this talented Brit. In all honesty though, the real reason you should go to this show is to hear Moses Sumney. I saw the LA singer/songwriter almost two years ago on tour with Hundred Waters. Then relatively unknown, Sumney’s one-man, three-mic performance stole the show and captivated an audience of strangers. Sumney is a deep thinker and heartfelt writer, which is apparent on his gorgeous, solemn new EP, Lamentations. ANNA McCAIN
SATURDAY 10/15
PORTLAND HIP-HOP DAY: MIC CRENSHAW, VURSATYL, LIBRETTO, DJ CHILL & MORE
(Portland City Hall, 1221 SW Ash) Last year’s inaugural Hip Hop Day was a blast. Now it’s time to join StarChile in front of City Hall for a few hours and do it again. Hip hop artists Mic Crenshaw, Vursatyl, Libretto, and some others will be performing, with music from legendary Portland deejays O.G.ONE (an XRAY.FM host and the Blazers’ DJ) and DJ Chill. There’ll be b-boys dancing and a live mural painting and some delicious food. It’ll be a fun afternoon. DOUG BROWN
BOO BOMB: LUDACRIS, JAGGED EDGE, EN VOGUE, THE SUGARHILL GANG, CANDYMAN, YOUNG MC, BLACKSTREET
(Moda Center, 1 N Center Ct) Back in the day, consciousness and romance ran deep, and the third incarnation of JAM’N 107.5’s annual Boo Bomb will serve as a powerful reminder. With perhaps its best lineup yet, this year’s Boo Bomb will bring together the hottest in the early ’00s most played artists on BET and some of hip-hop and black culture’s most influential pioneers. Headliner Ludacris probably wouldn’t even have a career without the Sugarhill Gang and their iconic “Rapper’s Delight,” not to mention Young MC’s busting of moves. Jagged Edge’s romantically centered lyrical themes owe thanks to Color Me Badd’s desire to sex everyone up and En Vogue, the “Real Funky Divas” of R&B. With Candyman and the last-minute addition of Blackstreet, Boo Bomb will be like a spooky lesson in musical history for those born after 1997.
CERVANTE POPE
JASON ALEXANDER
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) I imagine that Tony Award winner Jason Alexander (for his role in the 1989 Broadway musical Jerome Robbins’ Broadway) probably wants his two worlds to be separate. In one he’s serious, performing solo before the Oregon Symphony. In the other, the world that most of us occupy, he is George Costanza (or Art Vandelay), a neurotic, frugal, and painstakingly unlucky man. This is the guy who, like any of us, just wants to be noticed when he drops money in a tip jar, only to experience the nightmare of getting caught “stealing” because he deposits his tip when the cashier’s back is turned. This is the guy who, when trying to get fired from the Yankees to get his dream job with the Mets, is finally recognized by his boss when he wears Babe Ruth’s uniform and runs across the field during a game in a morph suit, because who has the confidence to actually do it naked? But here, at the Schnitz, Alexander will sing show tunes in his operatic tenor, knowing full well that if he were to sneeze, some bozo will yell, “Bless You!” as someone else in the otherwise silent concert hall will assuredly yell back, “You’re sooooo good looking!” CAMERON CROWELL
MOON HONEY, ANIMAL EYES, AND AND AND
(Bunk Bar, 1028 SE Water) Built around Jessica Ramsey’s trilling, Kate Bush-inspired vocals and the scale-jumping, King Crimson-esque guitar work of Andrew Martin, Moon Honey weave a complex soundtrack of musical-style hymns with tricky poetic lyrics and syncopated rhythms. This is the sort of band a fan can become really obsessed with, due to the obtuse mythology of their lyrics and a visual component that seems just as important as the audio. Formerly known as Twin Killers in their pre-Ramsey days, the formerly Baton Rouge- and now LA-based, formerly a four-piece and now a twosome, Moon Honey have been touring their first full-length record Hand-Painted Dream Photographs’ little heart out since its 2013 release. SUZETTE SMITH
SUNDAY 10/16
CALAMITY JANE, THE PRIDS, DJ HWY 7
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Portland grunge/proto-riot-grrrl band Calamity Jane has gone the way of legend, but the groundbreaking all-female band is doing a rare reunion show to benefit a new documentary on Measure 9, an anti-gay ballot measure that was justly trounced back in 1992. The all-ages matinee will be a fine chance for oldies to relive the past and young ’uns to see what they missed—and although it seems we’ve progressed a long way since Calamity Jane’s heyday, we’ve still got plenty to go. NED LANNAMANN
JASON ALEXANDER
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) See Saturday’s preview.
EXPLODE INTO COLORS, WAMPIRE, HUGO BERLIN (early show); EXPLODE INTO COLORS, THE GHOST EASE, LITHICS (late show)
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) It seems like only yesterday that Explode into Colors flashed across the Portland sky like a comet of magically infectious polyrhythms. While our time with the legendary trio was painfully short, the memories held by anyone fortunate enough to bear witness are indelible. Attendees of those exciting performances will recall psychically syncopated dance pieces that burst with feminine punk swagger, and chants that incited sweaty movements and communal ecstasy through a barrage of percussion and bass sounds. But longtime fans and jealous newbies rejoice! Tonight there’s a doubleheader of Explode into Colors reunion shows (early show is all-ages, later show is 21+) that also feature some of the Northwest’s most artistically fresh bands. Both concerts benefit local organizers: Friends of Noise and LA venue the Smell, so attendants cyclically contributes to communities that will hopefully produce more great groups like Explode into Colors. CHRIS SUTTON
GHOST, MARISSA NADLER
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Sweden’s Ghost brings their sacrificial metal to town pretty often, but that’s probably because their fan base is fucking massive. Led by an anti-pope known as Papa Emeritus III (there’ve been three since Ghost formed in 2008), members’ identities are shrouded beneath mysterious and terrifying “Nameless Ghoul” guises, leading to years of speculation as to who these dudes actually are. My favorite conspiracy theory is that Dave Grohl—Nirvana drummer, Foo Fighters frontman, loveable dork, and producer of their 2013 EP If You Have Ghost—is one of the Nameless Ghouls. Ghost played Portland around this time last year, right after I’d adopted a tiny two-month-old orange tabby named Dude. One dark and tormented night I endured a nightmare I’ll never forget: For some reason Ghost was headlining a house show I was hosting, and my small duplex was packed with raving metalheads. Papa Emeritus III saw Dude, unleashed an unholy screech, and announced to the crowd that my baby cat was the Devil incarnate. Although only a figment of my subconscious imagination, the battle that followed was horrendous—I’ll forever cower in the presence of Ghost. CIARA DOLAN
SAINT VITUS, THE SKULL, WITCH MOUNTAIN
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) For the past five years, Los Angeles doom wizards Saint Vitus have experienced a renaissance of sorts—they’ve released the full-length Lillie: F-65, several EPs and splits, toured extensively, and just last month dropped Live Vol. 2. That’s not to say that Scott “Wino” Weinrich’s gruff, sneering vocals or Dave Chandler’s sludgy riffs and certifiably insane solos ever verged on irrelevance. It’s heart-warming to see a band marauding across stages more than 30 years after its inception, and still getting the respect it deserves. What’s better than seeing a timeless, classic, and influential doom band like Saint Vitus delivering the goods live, anyway? How about seeing Chicago’s the Skull on the same bill? The Skull features vocalist Eric Wagner, bassist Ron Holzner, and drummer Jeff “Oly” Olson from another timeless, classic, and influential doom band: Chi-town legends Trouble. Every lick of the Skull’s output in their four-year tenure slides perfectly into a set of Trouble’s greatest hits. Tonight’s show will be the Skull’s first time performing in Portland with Rob Wrong on guitar. Wrong also handles the axe for local doom dealers Witch Mountain, who also grace tonight’s weighty ticket. ARIS HUNTER WALES
DEERHUNTER, ALDOUS HARDING, JOCK GANG
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Aldous Harding’s self-titled debut officially came out in 2014, but its release was limited to her homeland of New Zealand. It’s since gained traction, spreading into Australia, then Europe, and last month finally getting a proper US release. But it doesn’t sound two years old—it sounds two centuries old. Harding has little in common with modern music, and is more influenced by 19th century English and Scottish ballads, particularly murder ballads, cautionary tales, and other grim folklore. Over her quiet and delicate guitar playing, Harding narrates bleak tales in a voice that’s haunting and breathtaking; she sounds like she’d gladly sing you a lullaby and then murder you in your sleep. In her recorded music Harding sounds like a darker Vashti Bunyan, but in some live performances she sings with the righteousness of PJ Harvey. For her first-ever US tour, she’s supporting indie dream-pop rabble-rousers Deerhunter. This might seem like an odd pairing, but ultimately it doesn’t matter who she tours with—Aldous Harding exists in a realm all her own. SANTI ELIJAH HOLLEY
MONDAY 10/17
TRUE WIDOW, LOW LANDS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) We all have aspirations. Some of us have lofty dreams of fame and fortune, and some of us have humbler fantasies. Me? I have but a simple request: That we, as a country, come together and crown True Widow’s music our official soundtrack for fall’s dark days. It’s really not that much to ask. The Texas trio’s been making stony, shoegaze-adjacent music since 2007, and their recent offering, Avvolgere, stays the doomy course. True Widow’s got an earthy, spooky quality that’s formulated with careful precision—it’s pretty difficult to get bored listening. JENNA FLETCHER
DANISH STRING QUARTET
(Lincoln Performance Hall, 1620 SW Park) Composers have been creating music for the potent combination of cello, viola, and a pair of fiddles since the 1750s, and no one has enriched that quartet catalog more than Ludwig van Beethoven. Touching down in Portland this week, the Danish String Quartet will perform an early Beethoven work that beautifully demonstrates just what miracles a four-piece string section can inspire. Tonight’s eclectic setlist also includes a kickass selection of folk music from Nordic countries, as well as Dmitri Shostakovich’s mournful Quartet No. 15, which replaces the Russian artist’s usual sarcasm and paranoia with anguished, existential questioning. Easy listening it ain’t, but the emotional rewards just might be profound. BRIAN HORAY
TUESDAY 10/18
LVL UP, BLOWOUT, SLEEPING BLOOD
(Analog Café, 720 SE Hawthorne) After helping to build one of the nation’s most promising DIY scenes through their own label, Double Double Whammy, Brooklyn-based indie rock quartet Lvl Up joined the Sub Pop family for their latest release, Return to Love. The album finds the band’s three-songwriters turning inward to confront the existential, while still ripping their way through guitar solos and buzzing hooks that will have you bouncing along with them. Also read our story on LVL UP.
RINGO STARR AND HIS ALL STARR BAND
(Keller Auditorium, 222 SW Clay) Here’s your chance to see a Beatle live! Just don’t send him any fan mail. Peace and love! Read our story on Ringo.
ANDY SHAUF, SCATTERED CLOUDS
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Canadian singer-songwriter Andy Shauf’s latest record, The Party, is a treasure trove of subtlety. Each listen reveals a new secret, whether it’s textural, musical, or thematic. Listen #13: You hear a previously undiscovered piano trill buried in the back of the mix and it changes everything. Listen #34: You gradually realize that the album’s 10 tracks form a single narrative tapestry, centered on the same bogus house party. Shauf reminds everyone who writes about him of Portland legend Elliott Smith, but the comparison is reductive—Smith portrayed his own harrowing experiences with drug addiction and depression as third-person accounts in an attempt to therapeutically distance himself from his demons. Shauf, on the other hand, is a big-eyed reporter, sitting at the back of the room with a notepad, privately relishing in everyone else’s drama. However, the two songwriters have the same masterful command of melody and arrangement: like Smith, Shauf is a pop traditionalist to the core, and his songs evoke everyone from Emitt Rhodes and Harry Nilsson to Scott Walker and Nick Drake. Standout “The Worst in You” is a veritable Pandora’s Box of romantic insecurity married to a melody that could make Brian Wilson weep. MORGAN TROPER
McCOY TYNER
(Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark) For jazz lovers, McCoy Tyner needs no introduction. The 77-year-old pianist has been at the forefront of the genre’s biggest evolutionary steps, recording with Benny Golson during bebop’s heyday, helping John Coltrane move from the modalities of A Love Supreme into the freeform heat blasts of Ascension and Kulu Sé Mama, and introducing instruments like the harpsichord and koto into the mix as a bandleader. As he’s gotten older, Tyner has comfortably settled into his elder statesman status, releasing humble collections of solo piano recordings that allow him to explore the work of his former friends and influences like Thelonious Monk and Duke Ellington. McCoy Tyner is one of the few jazz giants left standing. Pay him the respect he’s owed when he arrives in town this week. ROBERT HAM