THURSDAY 4/6

SIA, EAGLE AND TALON

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) You've probably heard this Australian singer's current hit, "Breathe Me," on the radio recently—the ethereal, sweetly sad song is amazing and has rightfully gotten stuck on DJs' playlists (and on my iPod). The rest of Sia's recent album, Colour the Small One, is just as hauntingly down tempo, and full of lush, dreamy vocals (which she honed with Zero 7 on their Simple Things album). Tonight's her first Portland show. AMY JENNIGES

ALELA DIANE, MATT BAUER

(The Funky Church, 2456 SE Tamarack) See Music, pg. 33.

SCREAM CLUB, NICKY CLICK, KOTO Y SOTO, HOTT PINK

(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) How can you not love Scream Club? I mean seriously: They're two white queer gals from Olympia who bust out Peaches-esque punk rock rap, and cite influences from Le Tigre to Black Sabbath. Which could be a huge mess, but Scream Club pulls it off, mixing raw talent with some hardcore sass to pull off kickass live shows. These ladies can get a crowd grooving, bumping booties, and screaming like nobody's business. AJ

EVOLUTIONARY JASS BAND, VALET, TARA JANE O'NEIL

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Like out of the clouds drops Change of Scene, the new Evolutionary Jass Band album (on Community Records), and to celebrate some of Portland's magick minds will meet to lay down ample beauty vibes... enough good mojo that the occurrence of spontaneous ecstatic shivers will greatly increase (find the spatial locus at the scenic Holocene). Evolutionary Jass Band is ex-Jackie-O member Jef Brown, Michael Henrickson (also ex-Jackie-O), plus other local savants playing the hell out of some goodtime spiritual stomp—and they're playing it as if the tradition of primary gut-feel whoopin' and hollerin' through your instrument had never been sullied by wave upon wave of moneygrubbers and hucksters. Valet (Honey Owens of Nudge, World, and Jackie-O again) and Tara Jane O'Neil both perform solo sets, introducing a slink-space whisper-scape and some wind-song soft-strum (respectively) for all to spread themselves out in and just fuggin' mellow your mind for a minute; I bet it's about time! Soak your mind, then move your feet. DAN BRYANT

FRIDAY 4/7

GLADYS KNIGHT (SANS PIPS)

(Chinook Winds Casino, 1777 NE 144th, Lincoln City) Think the Oregon Coast is a long drive just to see the fabulous Gladys Knight (sans Pips)? THINK AGAIN. Not only do you normally have to fly to Vegas to see Knight's kickass show at the Flamingo, you can also count on paying up to 40 more dollars for the heavenly experience. Still not convinced? WELL, MARK MY WORDS: In the coming years, "entertainers" (single performers backed by a band or orchestra) will be making a huge comeback, and when they do, and if you've done your homework, you can say things like, "Oh, that number is so derivative of Gladys Knight's classic 'Midnight Train to Georgia,'" or "Wow! That came close to topping Gladys Knight's barn-burning version of 'Heard it Through the Grapevine,'" or "After seeing this lame-ass poseur, I am so happy I took the time to witness the grand majesty, and lofty pipes of Gladys Knight at Chinook Winds. It was so worth the drive." WM. STEVEN HUMPHREY

LES CLAYPOOL FROM PRIMUS

(Clinton Street Theater, 2522 SE Clinton)

Les Claypool from Primus will be in Portland on Friday at the screening of his new film, Electric Apricot, wherein he documents a jam band of the same name best known for their song "Hey, Are You Going to Burning Man." Here's hoping he makes fun of them ruthlessly, crushes any hopes they might have of "becoming the new Phish," and then eviscerates and disembowels the whole band with a galloping bass note at the film's climax. Regardless, I will be there to bear witness. Wait, someone just told me this is a mockumentary. Never mind. I'll still be there. Y'know—just in case somebody tries to eviscerate and disembowel something. Hope springs eternal! ADAM GNADE

TALKDEMONIC

(Music Millennium NW, 801 NW 23rd) In the wake of Talkdemonic's last show it looks like these guys are getting big here in town, moving forward, fast and steady, while violas saw out crazy licks and drums beat and clack and soundtrack our collective dance party. This one's for the kids. All ages. Free. Go. AG

HOUSE OF DREAMS BENEFIT: SOUNDS LIKE FUN, THE MAYBE HAPPENING, BAZILLIONAIRE

(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) See It's Who You Know, pg. 43.

LKN, SCOUT, HOOFBEATS

(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Hey playas, Lauren K. Newman (LKN) has a new record for YOU filled with grade-A beef guitar and enough Don Cab to get the math rock and prog heads all worked up. Postulate I is out on Grey Day Productions (the label responsible for dropping joints from Minmae, Consafos, May Day, and Head of Femur) and it's tight-as-tight-can-be tight. Recommended track: number four, the big rock-out session of "Circumstance." Recommended download: NONE. Fuckin' buy it, cheapskate; I ain't messin' with no broke broke. Postulate I is in stores April 11. GM

FALL OUT BOY, HAWTHORNE HEIGHTS, ALL AMERICAN REJECTS, FROM FIRST TO LAST

(Oregon State Fairgrounds, 2330 17th, Salem) See Once More with Feeling, pg. 45.

ANNA NALICK, ELIOT MORRIS

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) So will my stellar, unbeatably respectable rep as a crit de rock be tarnished if I admit I had a huge stiffy for Anna Nalick's big radio pop rock hit, "Breathe"? The music was totally boring (radio pop rock), the production was super RoboCop machine-made perfect (radio pop rock), but bro, the lyrics were—as says Tony the Tiger—grrreat. I can totes, totes, totally relate to her story about the guy that "ain't been sober since nearly October of last year" and about... okay, I just realized anything I say after this point will make all my friends abandon me for a radio pop rock dweeb. So, I'm holding my tongue. But that song, I'm tellin' y'all. GM

FRUIT BATS, AMANDINE, SAM JAYNE

(Lola's Room, 1332 W Burnside) See My, What a Busy Week! pg. 31.

ROCK 'N' ROLL CAMP FOR GIRLS BENEFIT: SWAN ISLAND, MS. SU'AD, T-REXXXA, THE GAY DECEIVERS

(Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Girls, 8900-A NE Vancouver) Swan Island calls their shit "end-of-the-world world music." Which is not to say their shit is shitty. My favorite Swan Island song, "Night Owl," is far from shitty rock, with a Blondie heart and Devo muscles. Anyway, a Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Girls benefit always deserves press. And here it is. AG

SATURDAY 4/8

WET CONFETTI, OWL DUDES, MODERNSTATE

(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Owl Dudes are in your face. BOOM! Or maybe on it, rather—stomping all over it with their beats and bass and abrasive vocals, spitting angry-sounding raps with samplers and horns. They're all over the place. There's a big energy to their shows, something confrontational, where you either opt to go with it or risk being destroyed. Well, okay, that's a little dramatic, but it kind of feels that way. It's a good feeling, honestly, and they'd probably seem intimidatingly intense if they weren't such an easy band to get behind and enjoy. Jesse Johnson and Paul Wig are making some of the most interesting music in Portland, which makes a perfect case for itself. There's not a whole lot one can say about Owl Dudes beyond insisting that they be experienced. So go see them. Go see them or be destroyed. GARETT STRICKLAND

BRIGHT RED PAPER, VIOLA VIEDMA

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) I have seen cello rockers Bright Red Paper linked up with some suuuuper ill-fitting bills, but homeboys have totes found their match with the b-b-ballers and l-l-ladies in Viola Viedma, who do a big ol' fatty collision of violin, viola, cello, banjo, and etc. Lots of etc., son. Label this one: indierock orchestra showcase. GM

THE JOHN DOE THING, STEVE TURNER, 44 LONG, THEE BASTARDS

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Peeps are always all, "brah, John Doe hasn't done shit since his band X stopped writing new songs. His singer/songwriter steez is weeeeeak." Whaa?! Who's smoking a fanny pack full of rock? The haters, that's who. John Doe's done so much since X became a nostalgia act. Like, remember that commercial about fighting homelessness (or was it hopelessness?) that ran on local Portland TV back in 2001, where John Doe played a so sad and soooo lonesome drifter? I do! How 'bout TV's Roswell? THAT was a good show. Homeboy played one of the (human, not alien) characters and he was gooooooood. Then there's X's alt-country alter-ego joint, the Knitters. They dropped a new LP just recently. As far as his solo stuff? Weeeeeak. GM

JOHN VANDERSLICE, CRYSTAL SKULLS, KELLEY STOLTZ

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Vanderslice. It's a good name, a name that's fun to say. It sounds very much like an exotic fruit, something citrusy and refreshing. One wonders if the name has contributed to the man's popularity as a musician. My guess is yes, it has, for no other reason than the fact that his music, on its own, does not seem to exceed or even equalize its hype. John Vanderslice makes pop music. It's pretty okay. Maybe, one of these days the influence of collaborator John Darnielle (of the Mountain Goats) will rub off on him in a fashion that might prove a tad more interesting. Although, beyond doing rewrites on the lyrics, what more can he really do for the guy? Oh well. In the meantime, we have music that is as forgettable as it is enjoyable, but, nonetheless, isn't terrible, and thus, Mr. Vanderslice, you've got an edge up over many of your contemporaries. GS

SUNDAY 4/9

TRE HARDSON, SPEECH, SIREN'S ECHO, MODILL, LONGSHOT, DJ CHILL

(Berbati's, 10 SW 3rd) See My, What a Busy Week! pg. 31.

THE SWALLOWS, THE DISPLACED, THE DECLINERS, ADVISORY

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) The Displaced displaced my heart last time they played Portland with sexy, sultry girl-sung pop rock and geetar licks that hit like the rock parts in Jay-Z's "99 Problems." That might be a wacky comparison, but this is some wacky music. Wacky, good. Get that fat fuck Rick Rubin on the phone! GM

STROKE 9, OLIVER, PUMA FRENZY

(Rock N Roll Pizza, 11140 SE Powell) Stroke 9... remember these idiots? They sang that "Little Black Backpack" song from... shit, 77 years ago. If not, be glad and have a great, productive life. If so, you (like me) are doomed to be haunted with the memory of that painful, clownish, ephemeral radio hit. Isn't it weird how long the things we call "ephemeral" really last? Time to rethink the vernacular. AG

MONDAY 4/10

SUBTLE, FOG, JEL

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Don't call it hiphop. If Dose One and the other folks at Anticon Records have proven anything, it's their ability to make music that defies conventional categorization. There are elements of hiphop, yes, but the overall sound of Subtle is more akin to groups like Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, or Boards of Canada, rather than what might otherwise be conjured by the double-H word. Last time they performed at Doug Fir, there were beautiful slides of original artwork being projected. There were props and non sequiturs. "Pitchfork is the Auschwitz of MPP33s!" At one point, Dose One pulled a bright red, plastic fetus out from between his legs. "Passed another one!" he proclaimed. "From my pussy to your mind!" This was all secondary, mind you, to the amazing music—strings, horns, turntables, rhymes—that was being woven before an excited audience, but, wow, it certainly added to what was already an incredible show. GS

TAMORA, SUMARA, PREPARE FOR WAR

(Food Hole, 20 NW 3rd) Favorite Tamora song titles: "Where's Ian MacKaye When You Need Him?," and "It's Hard to Eat Meat with Broken Fingers"—both of which are on their great There's No Tomorrow Baby, So How About Tonight? EP. If you're into heavy, fast, nasty hardcore played by a band that actually throws protests instead of talking about them, Tamora's your baby. A ton of bands talk about politics and making change and fighting for what you believe in, but how many really live what they sing? Not a whole lot. Jeremy, Christopher, Patrick, Mike, and Fred from Tamora do what they say they're gonna do and the result is damn inspiring. It's good to support inspiring things. Go here: tamorakills.com. AG

COPY, ILL EASE, ATOLE, DJ NATE C

(Tube, 13 NW 3rd) Elizabeth Sharp (AKA E Sharp; get it?) from Ill Ease is one of those ex-band kids that put dissatisfaction to work, said "fuck it" to collaboration, and decided to do her bizniss on her own. A former member of New Radiant Storm Kings, Sharp's solo stuff is funky indierock with rad lyrics like, "Fuck everyone in California/everyone in Florida/I've got the walking pneumonia/and I can't sit still." Sometimes she gets all Cat Power loony tunes, sometimes she's Neutral Milky and hits pop jams like TRL dosed on magic mushrooms. Which, yeah, is an MTV reference—whatevs—but really means "Totally Rad Live." Sing along: "Fuck everyone in New York/fuck everyone in Pennsylvania/fuck everyone in Rhode Island/fuck everyone in Oregon." Hey wait! She's dissin' us! Ah, who cares. GM

TUESDAY 4/11

ARCH ENEMY, CHIMAIRA, NEVERMORE, HATE ETERNAL

(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) Okay, headliners first: Arch Enemy is mid-tempo Swedish metal with a lot of melodic passages. Chimaira is groove-oriented metal from Cleveland. Nevermore is well-played Seattle prog-metal with a melodic vocalist—you know, a singer. All hype aside, Hate Eternal is the band to see. Since his early days in Ripping Corpse, Hate Eternal founder Erik Rutan has been grinding out the sickest riffs to ever escape six strings. In addition to the brutality of Hate Eternal, Rutan is largely responsible for Morbid Angel's psychedelic peak (Domination, Gateways to Annihilation), and is the creative force behind baroque-metal act Alas. Rutan also breathed fresh life into Cannibal Corpse by producing their new album Kill. He's a renaissance man, a musical Hieronymus Bosch, and Hate Eternal is an aural scalpel, a precision instrument of sound and fury. This crew is one of a rare breed, those beasts keeping metal alive by decimating sonic boundaries. THADDEUS CHRISTIAN

WEDNESDAY 4/12

MARRIAGE RECORDS SHOWCASE

(Towne Lounge, 714 SW 20th Pl) I was out of town for the last Marriage showcase but Mercury freelancer (and Phase One: Words and Music series founder) Garett Strickland tells me it was a big group jam where all the Marriage bands that were in town came together and became the Voltron of modern experimental music. The magic happens again on Wednesday. Forget "hump day." We're renaming Wednesday "Fuck yeah! day." AG

POP TOMORROW! CHRIS GABRIEL, THE CONDUCTOR, THE VULTURINES

(Acme, 1305 SE 8th) Soooo for the longest time I was under the impression that the Vulturines were "indierock world music," which sounds like it'd be reeeeetarded and torturously torturing. And then I heard their tunes and it's more like Deerhoof with English/Spanish vocals instead of English/Japanese vocals. The singer lady coos and croons way too fast for the music while the band is all "let's be prog! Now let's be flamenco! Now let's be pop! Prog again! Pop again!" And I'm all "SWEET!" And both of us are all, "Let's be friends!" (Want in on this?) GM

GRAVY TRAIN!!!, CLOROX GIRLS, VIP THE RECTANGLES

(Loveland, 320 SE 2nd) Some have pegged Gravy Train!!!'s sound with the lame descriptor "queercore," which is to say nothing of the actual music; still others have used the even more useless term "indierock." But what we're dealing with here is some rather silly shit: Song structures take stabs at everything from booty rap to '50s bop (but mostly the former). High-pitched vocals, delivered by people with names like Hunx and Junx, most often feature overtly sexual overtones and even more often border on the ridiculous. If this sounds like your bag, dig in; if not, stay far, far away. GRANT BRISSEY