(Crystal, 332 W Burnside) JURASSIC 5!!! Before their Interscope signing, J5 were the well-deserved recipients of some of the fiercest buzz underground hiphop had seen since Pharcyde and Freestyle Fellowship started throwin' down the easy beats in '91. Now, with buttloads of azz-shakin' fans across the nation sleeping with a copy of Quality Control under their pillows, everyone knows that it ain't no joke: Jurassic 5 rips it. Their latest, Power by Numbers, is a little on the doomy side, but has a golden, hopeful, stick-together-and-it'll-all-be-okay lyrical slant that makes J5's soft organ touches and sweeping textural arrangements all the more compelling, touching and awesometastic. What continuously floors me about Jurassic 5 is the fact that they constantly stretch their limits, and are always wildly successful doing it. DR. JOAN HILLER


(Aladdin, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Brilliant Conor... and with a full orchestra. Holy Christ. See My What a Busy Week pg 17


(Portland Art Museum, 1219 SW Park) Beginning with 1998's Wrong Side of Memphis, Johnny Dowd has released four records infused with a disturbingly lucid view of the most violent and regretful components of American life, belaying a creative and intellectual capacity on par with artists like Lou Reed or Johnny Cash. Consistently underscoring his Southern Gothic literary sense with equally impressive musicianship, Dowd's arresting live shows are secured by the presence of percussionist Brian Wilson, a preternaturally talented kid who amplifies Dowd's increasingly romantic backwood ballads with swoops and stomps of nightmare-perfect drums and bass pedals. Anyone possessing an honest affection for the atmospheres created by author Flannery O'Connor or filmmaker David Lynch simply shouldn't miss this show. HANNAH LEVIN


(Berbati's, 231 SW Ankeny) I think the riot grrrl comparisons are unfair to pin on Bangs. Although the vocals are slightly reminiscent of that sound, the music seems more influenced by punk bands from the late '70s or early '80s. Everyone from the Ramones to the Bangles come to mind from their blistering guitars and catchy pop harmonies. Check out their newest release, titled Call And Response, to catch my drift. Also supporting a brand new record is NYC's Crimson Sweet. Their new album, titled Livin' in Strut, is noise-drenched, stripped-down guitar rock with vocals that can be compared to a crazed Debbie Harry. See them now or cry later. JOEL JETT


(Blackbird, 3728 NE Sandy) Do not see Quarry to the War if you are pregnant, have a heart disorder, or epileptic seizures. Do not see them if you usually listen to your Bright Eyes CD on volume number five. Do not see them if you have never drank too much or taken a hit of pot. Also, for your own safety, do not see them if you are too cool for earplugs... actually, do. Quarry to the War's three-piece rock instrumentalization will undoubtedly hold your attention, and their angry wails might just get you in the mood to smash something--but what will you smash? KATIE SHIMER


(Rose Garden, 1 N Center Ct) Earth to Creed: Decide if you are a Christian band or not, you pussies!!! If you were a Christian band, we wouldn't mind that you sucked, because at least you were singing for a reason, and the fact that your guitar licks sound like they should be on an IMAX soundtrack could be overlooked because, hey, you are singing to the Almighty rather than the Almighty Dollar. Lead singer Scott Stapp's voice is the worst Eddie Vedder imitation since early STP, and his hair comes straight out of the "Jeremy" video. At least the bassist is cute. STEVEN LANKENAU

SPEEDEALER, CAMAROSMITH, THE HANGMEN, BAST(Satyricon, 126 NW 6th) Like a brass-knuckled fist from Metallica, Speedealer knock into your gut with one speed-metal/hard-rock punch. The Texas band sounds heavier than flashes of death on an acid trip, with frontman Jeff Hirshberg hissing to leave him alone or threatening to kill himself with the callused abandon of someone who ceased giving a fuck long ago. Live, they're the kind of band that completely absorbs you in their massive metal wrath, spitting you out at the end of their set, dizzy with adrenaline. Openers Camarosmith are the new band from Don "E" Paycheck and Diamond Jeff Matz of Zeke. JENNIFER MAERZ

FRIDAY 10/18JACKSTRAW CD RELEASE, nann alleman(White Eagle, 836 N Russell) Bluegrass. Or: the most repetitive live music ever. Every song begins with a little banjo-plucky opening, and then the other instruments kick in and everybody starts jumping around. It's infectious, though, and Jackstraw is one of the better groups out there at executing it. Their new self-titled album even has some slowed-down numbers that are very pretty, and might vary things a little in concert as well. JUSTIN "WEST COAST" SANDERS


(Satyricon) The Punk Group has this way of insulting your intelligence while they make you laugh. Portland fixture Brian Applegate (aka Reload) trades his energy dome for a bad wig, sunglasses, and vocoded voice. Ex-Arcrot good guy Tony Cameron rounds out the duo on guitar, voice, and burn ward dance moves. Apparently a gong show gag that escaped into the night, these guys are poking fun at new wave with more insight than most spuds. The Epoxies miss the irony, but snag retro points like a bulimic Ms. Pac-Man, providing all the neon, duct tape, and X-Ray Spex riffs that you can break to. Nothing new about these waves. Just good old fashioned fun ones. NATHAN CARSON


(Meow Meow, 520 SE Pine) Way back in 1995, Sebadoh fans were broken into two separate yet equally dorky camps. There were the Lou Barlow fans--a socially retarded mix of rabid four-trackers and mix-tape makers--these were the Sebadoh fans that never got laid. Then there were the Jason Loewenstein fans--a rag-tag group of soon-to-be-pretentious indierockers with a complete lack of style and never-ending thirst for cheap domestic beer--these were the Sebadoh fans that got laid, often. Being an awkward teen, it was tough have to make a choice between the two co-songwriters of my favorite band, but for the sake of beer (and getting laid) I sided with the Loewenstein camp. It was a total lie on my part, since I longed to make mix tapes of Barlow's saddest moments for each and every schoolboy crush I had... but the power of Loewenstein's endlessly sloppy rock songs won out in the end. Looking back on it, I think I made a pretty good choice. CARMELO MARTINEZ


(Blackbird) Former Spinanes singer Rebecca Gates sure gets around, joining up with the cream of the Northwest and Chicago crop of musicians. Last time she swung through town, she was part of a celebrity cover band paying tribute to famous and under-famous girl garage bands, complete with costumes. This time out she's debuting her new album, Ruby Series, and sharing the bill with Mekons singer Sally Timms. KATHLEEN WILSON

RALF YOUTZ, BLUES GOBLIN, AARON BEAM(Pacific Switchboard, SE 26th & Clinton) It's always confusing when a one piece calls his or herself a band name. I mean really, how are we supposed to know it's you in there, when you're off calling yourself Black Walnut or Sock Monkey. Anyway, I'm here to tell you that Blues Goblins = Sam Coomes (of Quasi) and he will sing and play electric guitar. Also, not to name-drop, but Ralf Youtz, former member of everyone's favorites the Halo Benders, will bang out a few little ditties himself. And besides all those famous people, there will be professional comedy by the Mercury's own professional comic, the ceaselessly dry, yet admirably optimistic Aaron Gabriel Beam; he will be performing as himself. KS

SATURDAY 10/19CASUAL, DJ PREMIER, DEAD PREZ(Aboard the Portland Spirit) An extravagant riverside hiphop cruise seems way more suited for P. Diddy's video girls than the political enthusiasm of Dead Prez' M-1 and, especially when you consider their outspokenness about poverty. But whatever--a chance to see Dead Prez is a chance to see Dead Prez--and nothing speaks "prison industrial complex" like a jaunt into the Willamette. Seriously. JULIANNE SHEPHERD

MELT BANANA, LACHRYMATOR, WADSWORTH(Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) "Melt Banana no smokea the marijuana." But they still serve up toxic doses of shrieks and feedback that put them well over .08 on the Extreme Japanese Noise Rock scale. Ten years of effects-damaged punk chaos means they'll have more than a hundred short bursts (songs?) to choose from. American grindcore drummer extraordinaire Dave Witte (ex-Human Remains, Discordance Axis) will be running their percussion treadmill at full speed, and seeing him alone is worth the ticket price. Portland's salvation army, Wadsworth, do the instrumental metal thing without sounding derivative or ironic. They are the aggressive soundtrack to a Star Wars trench battle, only in their version, after the Death Star explodes, the princess gets humped by her twin brother. NC

RASPUTINA, SPOOKY DANCE BAND, AMOREE LOVELL(Blackbird) Comparing new Rasputina to old Rasputina is like discerning the difference between Hot Topic goths and true blood, Victorian-obsessed, Dame Darcy goths. One is imbued with delicacy, a subtle sense of melancholy, and a touch of the macabre. The other has the consistency of lite soy cheese. Old Rasputina consisted of three cellists in period costumes (pantaloons, corsets) singing the tragic tunes of history with the voices of beautiful yet ill-meaning sirens. New Rasputina has been bastardized by some creep from Nine Inch Nails. On their latest, the remixed My Fever Broke, the NIN creep has apparently decided that cellos do not appropriately convey anger or alienation, and that to do so, they must be amplified, distorted, tossed into a quagmire of bad pseudo-house beats, and essentially turned into a shitty NIN song but with chix on vox. The only saving grace is that live, they will invoke all the spare, haunting beauty of three cellos and drums, and NOT the spare haunting beauty of one cello and 75 effects processors from the late '80s. Please, see them live. JS

STEVE MACKAY, SMEGMA, ELF(Jasmine Tree, 401 SW Harrison) When I first heard about Steve Mackay, I had my doubts. A "noise saxophonist?" I generally don't trust anything involving saxophones. They were, after all, what ruined the '80s. Former member of The Stooges, Mackay, however, is actually all right. He plays a dark, ambient sax, and he backs it up with truly creepy noises. He's a bona fide original, which I didn't know was possible in the world of saxology. JUSTIN "WEST COAST" SANDERS

FITZ OF DEPRESSION, TELEPHONE, CHIEF, THE TRIGGERS(Satyricon) Back from a little sabbatical, Fitz of Depression are now ready to kick some ass again, punk rock Northwest style. On the same bill is Telephone, whom I have not seen before, but have been hearing rave reviews from all the scenesters and scarf wearers around town. I heard they are part '80s, '90s and '00s all rolled up into a nice rock-n-roll package, kinda like a burrito. Eat it up. CHRIS REED

SHADES OF JAZZ, LARRY YES, BLACK NOTES, SPOOKY DANCE BAND(Big City Produce, 722 N Sumner, 11:30 am, free) Starting early, the cutest organic grocery store/cafe in North Portland celebrates the community, with a bunch of free food, free music (from earnest crooners to... spooky dancers), and a cakewalk. How very autumnal. JSHEP

SUNDAY 10/20DRUMS & TUBA, THAT 1 GUY(Dante's, 1 SW Third) What could possibly add to a night of drum and tuba music? A smoking musical pipe and songs in the key of beotch, of course. Drums and Tuba, surprisingly, consist of drums, tuba, and a guitar. They hop and slither along like the jazz marching band they envisioned upon conception in an Austin health food store. That One Guy takes the one-man band to the next, with a super instrument called the Magic Pipe and an album called Songs in the Key of Beotch. Yes, the Pipe spits smoke, but it's also a tall, elaborate array of strings, triggers and looping doo-dads that pop, crackle and fart while Mr. Guy simultaneously plays percussion and sings about raining meat and other pleasantries. It sounds like he's on the pipe, but he's got the energy and creativity of a whole band, playing metal funk, blues pop, and some other beotchin stuff. AARON MILES

ROSE CITY RUDO'S WRESTLING CHURCH(Billy Ray's, 2216 NE MLK, 5 pm) Dress up as your favorite wrestler. "Rowdy" Roddy Piper? Andre the Giant? Stone Cold? Harvey Hardcock? The possibilities will never end. JS

MONDAY 10/21FLIP-TOPS, PIST-UNS, THE TYRADES(Ash Street) Tumble up, drunky--if you like to get sharp-knifed with straight-up punk rock, it's your show. Opening are Buffalo's Tyrades, whose three chords are made buttery by the snotty punk vocals of lead singer Jenna Tyrade--she grunts, she sparks, she barks, she sounds like she's gonna spit in your face; you'll love it. JS

THE GIFT MACHINE, KARL BLAU, GUESTS(Meow Meow) Swimmy, bubbly pop doused in woozy holidays--that's the kind of music made by the Gift Machine, a quartet that takes cues from Guided by Voices, Apples in Stereo, Neutral Milk Hotel, and a little Dougie Martsch. It's dreamy and yummily executed; the record they're supporting, Don't Turn Me Off, is courtesy Knw-Yr-Own Records. JS

DO MAKE SAY THINK, FLY PAN AM, ROLLERBALL(Blackbird) From Constellation Records, the label of Godspeed You Black Emperor!, Do Make Say Think is just sort of beautiful. They shimmer, they swoop, they blanket you in strains of rolling bass and static. They don't sing much, but they don't need to. The layers of their music paint a picture. The picture paints a thousand words. J "WC" S


SCIENCE OF YABRA, OTHER MEN MY AGE(Berbati's) Science of Yabra is so tightly wound and has perfected the art of loud; Other Men My Age is equally as tense, with a more melodic and jutting approach to the post-punk faction. Tonight, they release a split seven-inch record--a format that unfortunately declines in popularity with each passing day. But, like the seven-inch, both bands' music is punky, smart, and quite likeable. JS

THE STROKES, SLOAN(Schnitzer) If ever there was a reason for those of you who are fashionably late to show up early for the Strokes show, it would be to catch opening act Sloan. Nova Scotia's favorite sons are a power pop band that take their cues from the Who, Stones, and the Beatles, only to rework them in such a way that you end up falling off your seat in awe, wondering why the shit hasn't hit the fan sooner. FRANK NIETO

CKY, LEISURE, ALL AMERICAN REJECTS(Meow Meow) PEOPLE WHO WATCH JACKASS: You're going to pitch a little tent in your shorts right now, because your buddies CKY (a metal band frequently featured on Jackass) will be at the Meow Meow. Maybe they'll make you their roadie or, even better, maybe they'll roll you out onto MLK in a shopping cart. KS

THORN CITY IMPROV: SLEEP, THE CHOSEN, MIC CRENSHAW, DESTRO, ANAXAGOROUS(Ash Street) The cream of the crop in local hiphop--see their freestyles in this soon-to-be-regular emcee night at the Ash. JS

WEDNESDAY 10/23J MASCIS, COBRA VERDE, HOLY SONS(Blackbird) After inducing hundreds of disaffected indie rockers to weep on his last solo tour (which included several Dinosaur Jr. tunes performed acoustically; J Mascis returns with The Fog to promote the new record, Free So Free. If the last record, More Light, was a huge production of fuzz and distortion, the new one is even more so, full of crackly, quirky hooks, and J sounding more warm and weary than he has since the mid-'90s. JS

NELS CLINE SINGERS(Dante's) While hanging out with a crowd of 250 drooling, male guitar nerds is not necessarily my ideal of a good time, the Nels Cline Singers are worthy of every drop of boy-saliva spilt on so many worn flannels, and Star Trek t-shirts. Without any singing at all, Nels Cline plays in genius riffs and intense atmospheres, with a flow made possible by his hu-normous and pliable fingers. Humped up just barely on the un-boring jazz tip, Cline will also futuristically prog-rock your shit, and the Singers--including Devin Hoff and Scott Amendola--are more than adept. Cline is basically the most talented guitarist I can think of (in the guitar-nerdy sense); everyone should see him at least once. JS

MR. SCRUFF(PSU; Berbati's) See My What a Busy Week pg 17

New Releases Oct 22: Donnas*, Har Mar Superstar*, Juliana Theory, Kizzy Rock, New Wet Kojak, The Oranges Band, Rocket from the Crypt, Saint Etienne

*= you only like 'em cause they're hot