AUTECHRE, SND, ROB HALL (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See "Music," pg 17

AUTOKINOTON, SLAM DUNK, SIBERIA (Liberty Hall, 311 N Ivy) What's the point of that it's-almost-summer feeling if you're not at an abrasive rock show losing your hearing? It's best to go deaf at the beginning of the summer, around the same time you meet your fling, so you can't hear them by the time they dump you. Take a date to see Siberia perform absolutely loudly, abrasively, and with feeling. Or charm all of the punk princes and princesses with eyes already affixed to Slam Dunk's shoegazed Metallica-ism as you descend into the soggy basement of Liberty Hall, North Portland's best kept non-secret. AMY VECCHIONE

PRINCE PAUL, DJS SCENE, EVIL ONE, AND SNEAKER (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Prince Paul's extensive resume--including groundbreaking production for De La Soul, the Gravediggaz, and, more recently, the once cool Handsome Boy Modeling School--certainly precedes him. But Prince Paul the recruiter? Here "speaking on behalf of the Red Bull Music Academy," a sort of two week workshop in DJ-ism that takes place all over the goddamn world. Either way, he's spinning tonight--so I guess you give and you take. ZAC PENNINGTON

EARLIMART, OKKERVIL RIVER, RICHARD SWIFT (Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See "Music," pg 19

BOOTY FEATURING SCREAM CLUB, JOEY CASIO, DJS PUPPET, STORMY, AND HEEWEE (Porky's, 835 N Lombard) The fashion-forward denizens of Olympia's electro community crash-land upon us in a mess of sequencers and progressive haircuts--bringing with them the sort of socially conscious hedonism only Greener country could cook up. Scream Club is, of course, the lesbian love child of Cindy Wonderful and Sarah Adorable--an irony-free, totally legit hiphop duo that's positive without being the least bit painful. Joey Casio is a one-man karaoke assault team whose fidelity is as low as his pants are tight. ZAC PENNINGTON


DOLOREAN, HOLY SONS, J.TILLMAN (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) The boys of Dolorean, Al James and Co., are just about the nicest guys you could meet, and their shows reflect it. Utterly chill, they seem to sort of lean back as they play--the instrumental version of kicking your feet up on the porch with a cold beer and a pack of Camels. If you're not a fan already, you might even be lulled into a false sense of security by the mellow vibe, and think you can go buy a drink or talk to your friend during the set and not miss anything. But if you ARE a fan of the band, you'll recognize those attention-deficit non-fans and yearn to hit them over the head with a frying pan--the sweet, dark, sad songs of Dolorean hold their own against any band in Portland, and demand to be heard. "Traded For Fire," off the band's debut album, Not Exotic, continues to be one of my favorite tracks. Ever. I WILL hear it, non-fans… I will hear it… JWS

JASON HODGES (1201, 1201 SW 12th) DJ Sneak once called Hodges "the Kenny Dope of Toronto." If that makes any sense to you, you need to hit 1201 tonight. Even if it doesn't, it wouldn't hurt you to take a chance on an unfamiliar DJ once in a while. Though Hodges is fondly regarded for EPs like Hot Jizz All Up in Yo Face and Fuck Hodges and his thorough understanding of da funk, he is most renowned as a house DJ who's held an advanced degree in crowd movement since the early '90s. DAVE SEGAL


(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Amongst Us slightly rule. Chock full of metal riffs, hardcore yelling, and even some of that quavery "Man In the Box"-era Layne Staley-style singing, Amongst Us fill every song to the brim. (They're even a little emo.) The band's melding of volatile styles makes for music that can't help but send you back to your angry headbanging years by half way through their first song. And the Holy Shitters... They're just supposed to be INSANE. KATIE SHIMER


(Artistery, 3769 SE Milwaukie) Along with his record label, the Bret Lunsford-helmed Knw-Yr-Own, Karl Blau can be comfortably credited with a great deal of the inspiration currently fueling Anacortes, Washington's modest music scene. On top of his folk-heavy solo work and his longtime contributions as a member of D+, Blau's earth-worn touch has been subtly felt over a good deal of the Microphones/Mount Eerie's recordings since that band's inception. For the past 17 months, Blau has been committed to KELP! a monthly mail-order series of Anacortes-centric, self-released albums composed of wildly divergent material--from field recordings to a complete re-working of the Microphones' It Was Hot, We Stayed In the Water. ZP


MC CHRIS, THE PUNK GROUP, THE RAMSEY BROTHERS (Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) See "My, What a Busy Week!" pg 15 PINE*AM, glassine, zeitgeist (Bossanova, 722 E Burnside) Nobody does cutie-pie pop better--or with more sincerity--than the Japanese. Osaka's PINE*am are a three-woman group that'll draw their fair share of Shonen Knife comparisons, but PINE*am thankfully aren't as chirpy and peppy as the older J-pop band. PINE*am's U.S. debut disc, Pull the Rabbit Ears (Eenie Meenie), indulges in slightly moody, mildly sweet dream pop à la Lush and balances it with pumping, upbeat dance trifles that sound like Devo and OMD toss-offs. They make their Seattle debut tonight, and if you see them live, there's an 83 percent chance you'll fall in love. DAVE SEGAL

TRAUMA LE TRON, NARWHAL, PAINT AND COPTER, SUMMER ONO (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) The haunting, carnival-esque sounds of Trauma Le Tron flow a curious cross between something you might hear at a Medicine Show with dance party undertones. Other bands should take a clue and add intriguing combinations of instruments like the viola TLT employs. MARJORIE SKINNER


JULIETTE AND THE LICKS (Music Millennium, 801 NW 23rd, 3 pm) Sure, you can see Juliette Lewis' new band at Dante's tonight… but wouldn't you rather see her for free in the harsh, shaming light of day? Or maybe you think your chances are better at 1 am in the half-light of an alcoholic haze. Let me save you the trouble: you don't have a chance, my friend. ZP


STEVIE NICKS TRIBUTE NIGHT FEATURING PLUM BOB AND FRIENDS (Laurelthirst, 2954 NE Glisan) See "My, What a Busy Week!" pg 15

SOCIETAS INSOMNIA FEATURING: SYNCHRONICITY FREQUENCY (Roseland Grill, 8 NW 6th) The press materials for this circus-like performance describe it as "the experience of a living nightmare." It's hard to imagine anything more nightmarish than the hordes of frat faces and their girlfriends that skulk around in the corners of the Roseland Grill, but with ritual performance, fire performers, body modification, improvised chamber music (!?), and (AAHHHH!!) postmodern dance on their bill, the good folks at Societas Insomnia are giving it a go. JWS

STARS OF TRACK AND FIELD, THE UPSIDEDOWN, SEXTON BLAKE, HYPATIA LAKE (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) Stars of Track and Field have steadily refined their sound, most recently adding glitch-savvy drum machines to their otherwise straight-laced Anglophilic guitar rock. Though such a move could be viewed as a calculated attempt to escape the Northwest's shoegazer-revival ghetto, it works. Tonight, the band celebrates the release of their new E.P., You Came Here for Sunset Last Year, featuring "With You," a lovely realization of their new glitch-meets-grandeur ambitions. The Upsidedown seem like a bunch of 30-somethings who just rented Dig! and want to start a "cool" band, just like the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Unfortunately, wearing sunglasses and silly hats does not make you look cool, it only makes me suspect you're collectively bald and blind. Listening to their debut, Trust Electricity, makes me also suspect they may be deaf. KIP BERMAN

SUICIDE CLUB FEATURING THE GOSSIP, DJ NIGHTSCHOOL (Dunes, 1905 NE MLK) Portland's premiere small-club, late night, balls-out dance party is Suicide Club, hands down. It's an appropriate name considering the hour to which its momentum extends, requiring the same collective willpower as, say, jumping in front of a train with every one of your classmates--except without all the blood and fragments of school uniforms. Tonight also features local blues-infused dance monsters the Gossip, which seems like a huge coup until you realize the Suicide Club DJ is the dude from the band. Not that that takes anything from the fact that tonight you will lose 10 pounds in funky sweat. MS


…AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD, THE (INTERNATIONAL) NOISE CONSPIRACY, WE ARE WOLVES (Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Trail of Dead... castrated! Argh! The band's new record, Worlds Apart, is a painful listen. Painful because Trail of Dead used to be so heavy and mercurial. Painful because one song sounds like the effing Foo Fighters. And painful because it is a record sucked and sapped of the unselfconscious destructo spirit that the band once changed lives with. The fact that every song on Worlds Apart sounds like a different group is telling. Dudes are cracking up, muffled by their own hype and crushed by the weighty proposition of following up the great epic-rock thundercrack of 2002's Source Tags and Codes. Who knew the trail of dead would one day include the bloated, stinking carcass of their own relevance. Who knew. ADAM GNADE

PETER MURPHY, SARA FIMM (Roseland, 8 NW 6th) At the recent Bauhaus reunion in the unlikeliest of places (the middle of a California desert in a place called Coachella), a 47-year-old Peter Murphy apparently spent the first eight minutes of the set--the approximate length of "Bela Legosi's Dead"--hanging upside down like a bat. Whether you want to see this show largely depends on if you find the last sentence incredibly profound or incredibly depressing--either way, dude's gonna have his pick of Portland's palest as he undoubtedly packs out the Roseland. ZP

SNATCH FEATURING SHOW ME THE PINK, LIPSTICK CONSPIRACY, DJS HOT PANTS AND SNOW TIGER (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) After decades of dabbling in non-surgical genderfuck, rock 'n' roll finally has its first all-tranny band. Based in San Francisco, where the group was named 2004's "Best Girl Band" by the San Francisco Bay Guardian, Lipstick Conspiracy hits Portland armed with a new CD--Don't Tell a Soul, a glammy '80s dance party in five easy tracks--and a sincere desire to blow your mind. DAVID SCHMADER

TWO TON BOA, ROARING LIONS (Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) After an extended hibernation that left the faithful wandering lost in the woods, Two Ton Boa is back from the cave and ready to feed. From plaintive love ballads to junk cabaret to the direst of dirges, Sherry Fraser's throbbing vision comes alive in a dual-bass attack that curls around your heart and squeezes you into submission. Clamorous drums and piano are added to the propulsive ooze of snaky bass lines, transforming Two Ton Boa into a slow-motion industrial accident that thrashes brutally. And with an imperial voice that strides between angel and harpy, Madame Fraser is just as likely to inspire swooning as slam-dancing. DAN PAULUS


SIGHTINGS, SILENTIST, YACHT, WHITE RAINBOW (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) A great deal of today's most lauded cacophonists are slaves to their electronics. New York trio Sightings mangle modern sounds from the most standard of rock instruments. Previously, the band created purposefully abrasive ribbons of melting guitar shriek over spastically lumbering bass and drums--their Load Records debut sounds like it was made for $15 and a pint of human blood. On their newest disc, however, the music leans more toward the best German industrial music that involves shopping carts, flamethrowers, and tribal dancing. A stellar cast of homegrown musical adventurers will make plenty of noise beforehand. NATHAN CARSON

SAM PREKOP, PIT ER PAT (Doug Fir Lounge, 830 E Burnside) See "Music," pg 17


AVENUE D, ANNA OXYGEN, DJ ASSCLAP (Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See "My, What a Busy Week!," pg 15

TOSHI MAKIHARA, DOUG THERIAULT (The Lab, NW 5th & Flanders) Japanese-born, Philadelphia-based Toshi Makihara is one of the most understatedly illustrious drummers in the modern free improvisation scene. Though widely unknown and scarcely recorded, he has collaborated with heavy huevos like Thurston Moore, William Hooker, and Wally Shoup. Furthermore, his playing is infused with both prodigous/ferocious technique and a serene humor that feels utterly genuine and soulful, not at all the occasionally cringe-worthy, Zappa-fried jokiness some free jazz players indulge in. Makihara's playing achieves the quality of a pure human voice; a lovely, betentacled extension of his being. SAM MICKENS


BILL FRISELL, BRIAN BLADE, SAM YAHEL (Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Bill Frisell is a stunningly brilliant guitar player. Although some of his recent records have felt increasingly distanced from the height of his mercurial and experimental powers--dipping so deeply into prettiness as to occasionally approach New Age--he remains one of the most confoundingly singular and unusual musicians of all time. Since 1997's Nashville, Frisell's records and working units have largely been focused on exploring the myriad tangents of his musical scholarship (country music, Malian folk, et al.) and while the results of these experiments were not always thrilling, they always seemed to come from a very genuine and excited place in his heart--further enriching his already tremendous musical vocabulary. His new trio, with organist Sam Yahel and polymath drummer Brian Blade, brings him to the classic "organ trio" setting of some of his jazz guitar forebears and primary inspirations, (most notably Wes Montgomery) and could well provide a platform for some of the most energized and far-reaching music he's produced in years. SM

THE PINK SNOWFLAKES, BLEI, THE WANTEDS (Ash Street, 225 SW Ash) The Pink Snowflakes are a wild, unpredictable, mess of a band. Their songs rarely go where you expect them to, instead circling around and around in a sea of psychedelic noise, fuzzed-out guitar twang, and buoyant, acid-damaged vocals. The Flaming Lips seem relatively sober in comparison. And speaking of relatively sober, openers the Wanteds, Tommy Harrington's one man emo band, play hyper-confessional electro-pop with lyrics that focus on his very troubled past. If it sounds a bit like an AA meeting with Casios, well--it is. Still, as not fun as that might sound, he's a talented enough songwriter to make the experience painful in all the right ways. KB

STEREO TOTAL, HAWNEY TROOF, THE GOSSIP (Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) See "Music," pg 17