THURSDAY 2/14
BASIA BULAT, AMOREE LOVELL
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!.
VAGABOND OPERA, PORTLAND CELLO PROJECT
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See My, What a Busy Week!.
FRIDAY 2/15
ORNETTE COLEMAN
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) See Music Feature.
BLUE CHEER, DANAVA, RED FANG
(Dante’s, 1 SW 3rd) See Music Feature.
DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS, FELICE BROTHERS
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) See Once More with Feeling.
COVER YOUR HEARTS: CHARMPARTICLES, CLIMBER, OH DARLING,
CURIOUS JONES, DR. THEOPOLIS, TANGO ALPHA TANGO, CASTLE, JONAH, DERBY,
UHF
(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) See My, What a Busy Week!.
SFJAZZ COLLECTIVE
(Newmark Theatre, 1111 SW Broadway) As Herbie Hancock noted on
Sunday’s Grammy broadcast, awarding Album of the Year to a jazz
record—especially a loose interpretation of the Joni Mitchell
catalog by a fusion-friendly legend—was a laudable departure.
Because of the genre’s absence from the headlines and award podiums,
arts institutions have been filling in the gap: developing new talents,
spotlighting seasoned veterans and nurturing new audiences. Since 2004,
SFJAZZ, a 25-years-young Bay Area nonprofit, has been assembling
all-star octets that reconsider the work of germinal jazz composers and
develop their own new material. The collective’s members, soulful
saxophonist Joe Lovano, trumpeter Dave Douglas, lively vibraphonist
Stefon Harris, underrated alto saxophonist Miguel Zenon, pianist Renee
Rosnes, bassist Matt Penman, drummer Eric Harland, and new addition,
trombonist Robin Eubanks, will dig deep into Wayne Shorter’s not too
shabby catalog as part of the Portland Jazz Fest’s stellar lineup.
JALYLAH BURRELL
SATURDAY 2/16
KAY KAY & HIS WEATHERED UNDERGROUND, SIBERIAN, BROTHER
SISTER
(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) See Music Feature.
KIMYA DAWSON
(Music Millennium, 3158 E Burnside) This is kind of exciting, no?
After providing an impressive chunk of the Juno soundtrack,
former Moldy Peach Kimya Dawson must be going places in the Hollywood
world, but we get to see her up close and personal at a free, intimate
show at a cool record store. But then, I really couldn’t imagine Dawson
ever playing anywhere else. She writes the perfect campfire
songs—her conversational, lilting voice fronting sweet, gentle
guitar strums as she weaves tales about family and friends, good times
and bad. A sunny cheer shines through everything, letting you know in
warm and humorous ways there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I hate
to get all goofy about one of the more played-out movie moments of the
last year, but that scene in Juno with Michael Cera and Ellen
Page playing Dawson’s “Anyone Else But You” on the front stoop was
really, really sweet, and summed up everything that her music has to
offer. JUSTIN W. SANDERS
KEREN ANN, DEAN & BRITTA
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) Dean Wareham, formerly of
Galaxie 500, and Britta Phillips, the erstwhile voice of ’80s cartoon
Jem, started making music together as Luna in 1999. The two got hitched
in ’06, after Wareham’s previous marriage went kaput in an awkward
transition recounted in his upcoming book Black Postcards. Luna
went kaput, too, but the two continued recording under the imaginative
moniker Dean & Britta. Last year’s Back Numbers is drowsy,
love-dappled pop with only a hint at the yawning chasms of sound that
were hallmarks of Galaxie 500 and Luna. Meanwhile, they’ll be hawking a
remix EP called Variations on this tour, and Britta just popped
up on an all-female tribute to Neil Young. As far as what to expect
from tonight’s show, it’ll be a performance by two gorgeous, talented
individuals with great taste in music. And if they’re too cool to break
a sweat, at least you’ll get to hang out with them for an hour or so.
NED LANNAMANN
BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY, DJ CHILL,
SOUL P, TWISTED
INSANE
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Hailing from Cleveland, Ohio during the heart
of the G-funk era, Bone Thugs-N-Harmony are perhaps the most singular
and unusual group to have sprung from the strange and fertile world of
’90s hiphop. Their first two albums yielded a string of
genre-redefining hits, and their interval-toggling, sing-songy flow has
become a rarely acknowledged template for recent work by everyone from
Usher to Akon, Mariah Carey to R. Kelly. Ultimately, though, their
greatest characteristic is a penchant for baroque weirdness that vastly
exceeds the occasional gothic leanings of their
contemporaries/collaborators Tupac and Biggie. Bone Thugs are truly
inscrutable, from their insane adaptation of “Carol of the Bones”
(sample lyric: “Bone, bone, bone, bone”) to the druidic figures, fake
trees, and horse-drawn carriage of their seminal ’96 VMA performance of
“Tha Crossroads.” And, though last year’s comeback shot “Strength &
Loyalty” suffers from some radio-baiting schlockiness, the ruggish
thugs remain some of the deftest and most thrilling emcees in the game.
SAM MICKENS
SIX ORGANS OF ADMITTANCE, I’M A GUN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Guitarist Ben Chasny joined the ranks of
freakout-progsters Comets on Fire a couple years ago, but he’s
continued to release albums as Six Organs of Admittance at a steady
clip. The latest, Shelter from the Ash, is more string-plucked
slow-burning haziness—the kind of stuff that is lazily referred
to as freak-folk (although Chasny takes particular exception to the
term). But what do you call something that incorporates flamenco
finger-picking, raga motifs, fiery distorto-guitar, half-heartedly
chanted vocals, and washes of song peeking furtively though
circular clouds of sound? If it’s a little aimless on record, it’s
riveting in a live setting. Joined by main squeeze Elisa Ambroglio of
Magik Markers, Chasny will begin in a hush, then build to
crashing, buzzing bedlam, drifting between plenty of peaks and valleys.
NL
STARSKI, MR. ROMO, ARSON, HARDCOOR
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Starski (AKA Brian Gillespie) started making a
name for himself as a DJ in Detroit about 10 years ago, just as the
underground party scene was reaching its apex and late-night dancing
became a lifestyle. Once he was able to consistently inspire mania in
the devotees on the dance floor—with his mix of bass-heavy
ghettotech, Miami bass, electro, and hiphop—Starski started
producing with Todd Osborn. Calling themselves Starski and Clutch, the
duo released tracks with names like “Players, Ballers, Rollers” and
“Triple Gold” on Godfather’s Databass records. With any luck, tonight’s
show will embody the old Detroit spirit—where the only thing that
matters is the bass. AVA HEGEDUS
PINBACK, MC CHRIS
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) Albums from San Diego’s
Pinback—like 2001’s Blue Screen Life and ’04s
Summer in Abaddon—were accomplished and gorgeously
produced, with a repetitive, circular kind of song-to-song beauty that
was impossible to listen to for any length of time without falling
asleep. I’ve never had any particular desire to see the band live based
on these recordings, and their latest, Autumn of the Seraphs,
does little to change that stance. Despite neat little fun-havings like
the videogame riff coursing through “Good to Sea,” and “From Nothing to
Nowhere” hard-charging emo grooves, I still just want to put the thing
on in the background while I trim my cat’s nails or do the dishes. I
think it’s like Pinback blend all their lovely layers of cascading
guitar and smooth, studied vocals a little too well, creating something
akin to a pretty good dream. It’s all inter esting and even kind of
surreally beautiful as you’re having it, but as soon as you wake up you
forget most of it. JWS
SUNDAY 2/17
THE EVERYBODYFIELDS
(Kennedy School, 5736 NE 33rd) Prepare to drain your tear ducts in
your Pilsners, because the Everybodyfields—the pride of Johnson
City, Tennessee—are the next act to take part in the McMenamins
“Great Northwest Music Tour.” The duo of Jill Andrews and Sam Quinn
will perform six shows at six different McMenamins locations, plus they
get first crack at all the tequila-lime chicken skewers you leave on
your plate. Meanwhile, you’ll be feasting on a heavenly assembly of
slow-burning bluegrass waltzes, the majority of which made an
appearance on last year’s Nothing Is Okay. They share a label
with up-and-comers the Avett Brothers, plus they have a stellar
recording under their belt, so look for the Everybodyfields to be
playing fewer shows, in bigger venues, in the very near future. EZRA
ACE CARAEFF
DARKEST HOUR, CEPHALIC CARNAGE, EMMURE, WHITECHAPEL, THE
ABROGATION
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Victory is a contentious record
label. Just ask Google. (And if you have all afternoon, include the
word “lawsuit” in your search terms.) Further disconcerting is a
catalog ranging from extremist (straightedge saber-rattlers Earth
Crisis) to extremely lame (Bury Your Dead). But a quality act is
occasionally in cahoots with Victory, and DC’s Darkest Hour is one such
exception. Their Deliver Us is oppressively named, though it’s
hardly preachy or aged. They use twin-guitar harmonies to bluff their
way into death metal, but their strength is vocalist John Henry’s
heartfelt pitch and passive voice. Yes, folks, Darkest Hour are
emo-laced, and the structuring of “A Paradox with Flies” somehow makes
love out of all that screaming. Extreme singing sometimes makes
impossible inroads with melody (see: Grave, Carcass), and Darkest Hour
are bridging that gap once again. MIKE MEYER
FOXY SHAZAM, KARATE HIGH SCHOOL, PEACHCAKE, NINJAS
W/SYRINGES
(Rock n Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) At the root, Cincinnati’s Foxy
Shazam is a cacophonous, frenetic rock band with a penchant for the
theatrical. Eric Sean Nally’s vocals suggest the search for a middle
ground between punk-rock testifying and furious R&B, and the band
behind him shifts from terse riffs to languorous, piano-driven passages
at a moment’s notice. Seeking to weld the urgency of punk rock with
R&B isn’t a new concept (just ask Ian Svenonius or James Chance),
but there’s an unpredictability here that suggests that this is a band
willing to incorporate any style imaginable into their music. Who knows
where this will lead them a few albums down the road (Some sort of
yacht rock/grindcore hybrid? Skronk meets bebop?). The presence of a
Rocketeer-inspired song suggests a good sense of humor, as well.
But for right now this is catchy, compelling stuff. TOBIAS CARROLL
MONDAY 2/18
ST. VINCENT, FOREIGN BORN
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music Feature.
BROTHER SISTER, THE MAYBE HAPPENING, EXOH
EXOH
(Someday Lounge, 125 NW 5th) I know about as much as Brother Sister
as you most likely do. Which is to say, I know nothing about this
mysterious local quartet. I do know—thanks to MySpace—that
the music of Brother Sister has an intriguing post-soul sound, similar
to TV on the Radio, sans the whistles, bells, and that guy with the
comically large afro. But that is all I know. Joining them tonight are
the genius pop stylings of the Maybe Happening, who are basking in the
glory of their brand-new record, Beyond the Bells. EAC
OVO, THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, BRIZBOMB, DJ NATE
C
(Tube, 18 NW 3rd) Some bands sell music with their hair, while
Italy’s Ovo actually make music with theirs—specifically
frontwoman Stefania Pedretti and her ankle-length dreadlocks, which
when sawed with an electric bow summons a godless squelch of feedback.
At a recent show the experimental duo united Halloween-costume kitsch
with Boredoms-style rock (circa-Pop Tatari), destroying and
rebuilding foundations on which to nod. Live, the duo is more fun than
their domestic CD, Miastenia. Dressing like a non-dimensional
birthday cake and a hooded executioner, the duo turn guttural female
vocals, glorified bucket drumming, and art-damaged whammy-bar diving
into an unlikely dance party. Standout surf number “Anime Morte” is
like Boris during a less-concerned stretch, forgoing low blight for
tasty waves. Welcome to the parade, noise freaks. MM
TUESDAY 2/19
OVO, YELLOW SWANS, BEHALF,
SELECTOR
MANCAMPUS
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) See Monday’s listing.
SIA, HAR MAR SUPERSTAR
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) At first this pairing looked
really stupid. You’ve got the little, ironic, mustachioed sex-troll Har
Mar Superstar on a bill with the sweet, pretty, perhaps a bit too
down-to-earth kindergarten-style Sia. But then I got to thinking… and
yes, this is indeed a good idea. Har Mar warms things up with some
stupid songs about having a Hypercolor Gucci penis (Okay, I made that
up, but it’s not far off) and you’ll dance, laugh, and maybe have a
beer or two. Then, when Sia settles in with her pre-packaged folksy
pop, there’s a nice contrast. This way there’s no bombardment of stoic
preachiness, or sappy love songs. And when Sia says something like
“some people have REAL problems,” you’ll know exactly what she means.
ANDREW R. TONRY
WEDNESDAY 2/20
GRUPO FANTASMA, SOL JIBE
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week!.
SPECTRUM, SONIC BOOM
(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Having been a part of the legendary drone
psyche-rock outfit Spaceman 3 means something—it means people
still care what you’re up to, even when it’s a listless bore. And while
Jay Spaceman continues to tantalize with his ferocious post-Spaceman
outfit Spiritualized, the same cannot be said for Sonic Boom’s
Spectrum. Okay, Spectrum’s early records are worthwhile, but live
they’re a total snoozefest. Two dudes on stage lazily twisting knobs on
their delay pedals and smoking? Nah brah. Give me some drugs and wake
me up when it’s over. Better yet, save the money, stay home, and just
take the drugs. ART
FULL FUZZ, BLACK ELK, SHAT!, DARLINS
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) Uh oh. Let’s hope local badasses
Black Elk don’t trade in their Lizard-smashed ironwork for
color-coordinated outfits now that former Icarus Line drummer Jeff
Watson has joined the ranks. Portland needs more “Colombian necktie”
(Big Black) than matching neckties, and Black Elk had a pretty good
thing going with their 2006 Crucial Blast debut. Though very literal
with Tom Glose’s vocal Yow-isms (egg-sucking sounds, dude?) and lacking
in the dexterity department (Erik Trammell’s fisty chords never take
off), the premature full-length was still a heavy-duty conquest.
Bulldozers “My Lil'” and “Baby Liver” plowed through acres of rubble to
wind up on the right side of that year’s great metalcore divide. Now
that they’re in the clear, it’s time to scorch this horrible place.
MM
XOTICA-A-GO-GO: THE REDWALLS,
THE NEAT, CATFISH HAVEN,
DJ KENOY, MR. MUMU
(Dante’s, 1 SW 3rd) Catfish Haven is an archetypal three-piece, and
the music they make reminds us why the power trio has endured. Take one
charismatic singer/guitarist (George Hunter, with a gravelly, rich
voice) and a fine rhythm section (bassist Miguel Castillo and drummer
Ryan Farnham), and apply a timeless style of music. It’s rock with a
pronounced soul influence, and thankfully Hunter’s voice is more than
up to the challenge. 2006’s Tell Me is fueled by yearning and
heartbreak, and maintains its tone throughout. Live, the strengths of
their songwriting become even clearer, and the group’s chemistry
becomes more visible. TC
ROTTING CHRIST, IMMOLATION, BELPHEGOR, AVERSE SEFIRA,
EALDATH
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) The serious black metal of Rotting
Christ is a bit of an anomaly. The veteran act’s latest full-length,
Theogonia, features big, wah-wah production, minus the gothic
chintz bogging down would-be contemporaries Dimmu Borgir, Cradle of
Filth, and Moonspell. Also, having any studio sheen at all automatically distances them from one-man basement bands Xasthur, Brown
Jenkins, and even Dodsferd, of their native Greece. If anything,
Theogonia conjures the memorable, verse-chorus-verse bloodshed
of Sweden’s Watain, who trekked over to America last year, scaring the
daylights out of the East Coast with butcher-shop show and blast-beat
terror. “Gaia Tellus” and the crushing payoff of “Sworn to the Dark”
are nearly interchangeable, and we can only hope for a similar live
show tonight. MM