East End, 7/4


Dollar Dollar Bill Y'all: Luck-One, Grynch, Sole Provider, GEN. ERIk, KENNY MACK

(Salmon Street Studios, 109 SE Salmon) See My, What a Busy Week!


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

Old 97's, David Wax Museum

(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) See Music.

Jon Garcia, Mere Mention, Leonard Mynx

(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) The biggest concern in the earliest material from Jon Garcia was volume. His quiet voice and bedroom production buried everything into a barely audible mix of soft guitars and even softer vocals. Yet with The Lake, his latest LP, Garcia has transformed from an introverted singer/songwriter to a brash frontman leading a fleshed-out rock band through shimmering alt-rock numbers. It's quite the transition, one that Garcia doesn't always master, but The Lake is consistently bolstered by solid arrangements and the confident voice of Garcia. He might have to update his bio and lose the Tim Buckley description, but perhaps a comparison to Buckley's son Jeff would be more fitting anyway. EZRA ACE CARAEFF


The Penny Jam Showcase: Loch Lomond, Tango Alpha Tango, DoublePlusGood, DJ Cooky

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) See My, What a Busy Week!

The Lilith Fair: Erykah Badu, Sarah McLachlan, Sugarland, Colbie Caillat, Sheryl Crow & MORE

(Sleep Country Amphitheater, 17200 NE Delfel) See Music.


(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) Do not get Snuffaluffagus confused with Mr. Snuffleupagus, the big furry elephant from Sesame Street. This Snuffaluffagus is the project of Chris Braciszewski, and his new album Brazil Wood Poetry embraces the sound of late '60s Brazilian Tropicália. It's filled with samba beats, nylon guitar plucks, gently percolating percussion, yawning melodies, and a faint whiff of sun-dappled psychedelia. Many Californians before Braciszewski—looking in your patchouli-scented direction, Devendra—have gotten ensnared in Tropicália's seductive blend of brain-expanding futurism and easygoing breeziness, and the music of Snuffy focuses on its laidback qualities, resulting in a lightly hazy bit of exotic pop. They join fellow San Diegans Witt on a meandering West Coast tour. On this date the two bands open for Hosannas—formerly Church—for the Portland quartet's last show with keyboardist Cristof Hendrickson and drummer Lane Barrington. Brothers Brandon and Richard Laws are reportedly going to continue making music together, while Hendrickson and Barrington are departing (amicably, the band is happy to say) to pursue other endeavors—in Barrington's case, his ongoing musical project the Ocean Floor. NED LANNAMANN Snuffaluffagus and Witt also play Wednesday, July 7 at Ella Street Social Club.

Art Party: Gay Beast, ZZYZZAX, Permanent Wave, DJ Rad, DJ LadyfingerS

(Branx, 320 SE 2nd) It's hard to put guitar/synth/drums trio Gay Beast into a neat little genre box, as they make some seriously, awesomely weird noise. The Minnesota three-piece (a hard butch, soft femme, and a "just right") have coined the term neo-wave to distance themselves from the no-wave and the now-wavers. They're labelmates with AIDS Wolf and Melt-Banana on the also awesomely weird label Skin Graft Records. They mix progressive rock with some math and little bit of saxophone. They have songs about second-wave feminism that you can dance to. They have super cool T-shirts because synth man Dan Luedtke is an amazing artist and graphic designer. They look and sound like something new. That's not easy. Hell, in this day and age of recycled everything, doing something different or new is almost impossible. They should have called themselves the Gay Pioneers. Or the Queer Pathfinders. KELLY O


(Oregon Zoo, 4001 SW Canyon) Femi Kuti is certainly his father's son, but do not mistake Femi for Fela. For instance, Fela—the hugely influential and pioneering Afrobeat titan—would probably not have lent his voice to Grand Theft Auto IV, as Femi did. Nor did Fela Kuti have to suffer through the post-jazz-fusion, post-"world"-music landscape that Femi now has to navigate, where the raw veins of both indigenous tribal beats and American bop have been watered down to scholarly exercise or, even worse, "lifestyle" music to accompany a range of scented candles or a Starbucks on Safari! compilation CD. (Admittedly, this is a landscape that Fela's groundbreaking work helped create.) Nor would Fela have incorporated a twinkly, bullshit-sounding Roland digital synth into his hard-edged funk. Yes, Femi does all these things, but he also burnishes the legacy of his father's amazing music, and there is little doubt that this evening, with his music playing as you recline in the setting summer sun, will be anything less than a great time. NL

Rozendal, Kelly Blair Bauman, Steve HefteR

(The Woods, 6637 SE Milwaukie) Portland's Brian Rozendal plays gritty indie rock that successfully pulls from some of America's most familiar musical eras. Successful in that he (and his namesake band) deftly take elements of country, folk, and late-'80s/early-'90s alternative and mash them into spare, working-class pop songs that don't merely ape what came before. Rozendal doesn't hold back in his tales of love lost, either. I'm guessing he's probably a blast at parties. Also on the bill is Kelly Blair Bauman, who's found a second life making jangly Americana that gives a nod to Sweetheart of the Rodeo-era Byrds. It's a far cry from the noise he made in seminal Northern California bands Deathstar and the North Magnetic, but Bauman's ability to assemble layers and hooks still comes off as loud as bombs. MARK LORE


(Backspace, 115 NW 5th) Hiram Lucke plays different instruments—guitar, keys, percussion—and layers them with a Boss RC-20 Loop Station, while both he and wife Melissa Rodenbeek sing. The end result is the Harvey Girls, a decidedly slanted, thrilling avant-pop duo whose new album, I've Been Watching a Lot of Horror Movies Lately, is a varied, ranging collection of weird and happy music. The songs don't really resemble each other, except that they're all trippy and full of good cheer, kind of like S.F. Sorrow combined with "The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy)." I've Been Watching just came out on Circle into Square Records, also the home of Big Spider's Back and Cars and Trains (also on the bill tonight). New album aside, there's no shortage of Harvey Girls material: The full-length was preceded by a free EP called The Prisoners of Candy Island, a relaxed if even more left-field collection of sound landscapes, and they've got some new tracks floating around, including a fractured, Spanish-ballad version of the Clash's "Spanish Bombs" which works astonishingly well. NL

The Moondoggies, The Head AND The Heart, Quiet Life

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Kevin Murphy, lead singer and songwriter for Seattle's Moondoggies, spoke of how the band crammed every good song they had onto 2008's Don't Be a Stranger, not knowing if they'd have an opportunity to put out another record. Fortunately, the roots-rock group got another chance and the Moondoggies were more meticulous with their selections for follow-up Tidelands. Their brand-new EP You'll Find No Answers Here contains songs that didn't make it onto the LP, including "Fly Mama Fly," a Neil Young-tinged lullaby that sounds at home alongside music by Northwest chamber-folk contemporaries the Cave Singers and the Fleet Foxes. At times more adventurous, exploratory, and soulful than the finger-picking ditties that earned them acclaim, the Moondoggies' latest work elaborates upon the heartfelt appeal of their modern-day down-home sounds. MARANDA BISH


Ty Segall, Pure Country Gold, The Mean Jeans

(East End, 203 SE Grand) See My, What a Busy Week! and Music.

Damien Jurado, Kay Kay AND His Weathered Underground, Tomo Nakayama

(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) I first saw Damien Jurado when he opened for Pedro the Lion at a vaguely Christian-themed venue located in a suburban strip mall in Southern California. Compared to the gloom and religious guilt that lingered around David Bazan, Jurado was endearingly sweet, masking his early-day shyness by joking between songs and performing the goofy "Trampoline," his first seven-inch release on Sub Pop (back then the label had lost some of its luster and was stuck in a post-grunge, pre-Shins middle ground). It's been over a dozen years since that show, yet Jurado continues to make some of the best music of his career. Saint Bartlett is his finest effort since 2000's Ghost of David, a texturally precise and gorgeously assembled recording bolstered in the studio by members of openers Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground. But remember, no matter how politely you request he play "Trampoline," it's not going to happen. EAC

Skelator, Excruciator, Extractor, Spellcaster

(Plan B, 1305 SE 8th) A quote from the beginning of Skelator's Time of the Sword Rulers sums up Seattle band's philosophy: "No knight who is false can win in combat with one who is true." Their brand of heavy metal is unaltered by time and no different from the genre's progenitors like Manowar, Iron Maiden, or Mercyful Fate. The band's sword-brandishing frontman Jason Conde-Houston belts his vocals like a Shakespearian actor, occasionally breaking through his storytelling with an ear-piercing wail. Axe wielders Robbie "the" Houston and Rob Steinway chug through triumphant riffs while the rhythm section of Zach Palmer and Patrick Seick thunderously gallops along with them. Judging BY the trifecta of lyrics, music, and stage show, Skelator are heavy metal knights of the highest order—sworn to protect the genre, and maintain its true form. ARIS WALES

Solovox, The Bran Flakes, The Evolution Control Committee

(Rotture, 315 SE 3rd) Mark Gunderson is often compared to Negativland. Both they and Gunderson's Evolution Control Committee were enormously influential and fearless in the pre-digital world of sampling and mash-ups, and both have stayed committed to weakening copyright law for over 20 years. Though Negativland created the biggest noise in the late '80s, acts like Girl Talk wouldn't exist without Gunderson's early-'90s experiments (notably the infamous Public Enemy/Herb Albert mash-up Whipped Cream Mixes). More importantly, the ECC is still releasing great (and freely distributed) music. If their latest, Weapons of Ass Destruction, is any indication, tonight's show should be all kinds of illegal and very danceable. DAVE BOW



(The Artistery, 4315 SE Division) See My, What a Busy Week!

Block Party: Red Fang, Lord Dying, The Madison Concrete, A Train (4 pm); Pierced Arrows, Harlem, Hunx AND His Punx (9 pm)

(East End, 203 SE Grand) Clearly no one loves America as much as East End. While other venues spend America's birthday roasting Tofurkey dogs and losing digits in horrific firework accidents, East End is throwing a pair of shows to prove they are the Americanest club in town. First off, it's their inaugural block party, where Red Fang will deafen the masses and hopefully debut some new material from their much-anticipated upcoming full-length. With ears still ringing, head downstairs at 9 pm for a fascinating bill that runs the gamut between the ridiculous Hunx and His Punx (with a live show that you must see to believe), garage popsters Harlem, and punk legends Pierced Arrows. In short: America, fuck yeah. EAC


Palo Verde, Pluvial, Tyrant

(Ducketts Public House, 825 N Killingsworth) Everyone's favorite female improv sludge rock duo brings the noise to North Portland tonight. Hopefully you got a copy of Palo Verde's first and only hard copy release, History for the Rest of Eternity, out last month on their own record label Drunken Beagle. Drummer Lauren K. Newman combines her musical skills with guitarist Terrica Kleinknecht in live collaborations that bring brutal drum solos and bruising, pedal-fed riffage to the sonic limits. If you missed out on History for the Rest of Eternity, don't worry; a fresh batch of songs are yet to be born at each new show. MB


Deerhoof, The Donkeys, SouthEast Engine

(Berbati's Pan, 10 SW 3rd) I can't tell you the precise date that Deerhoof, now 15 years into their relationship with Kill Rock Stars, first drank from the musical fountain of youth, but what matters is Greg Saunier, Satomi Matsuzaki, and company still sound as vibrant and revelatory as ever. While the band has kept things relatively low-profile since their last proper full length, 2008's Offend Maggie, 2010 did see the vinyl reissues of Apple O' and Green Cosmos, as well as a full plate of festival dates—notably pairing up with Xiu Xiu in Austria for a live, collaborative tribute to Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures. Brimming with the same creative zeal and self-determination they've had all along, Deerhoof still sound like they'll be putting out great albums in another 15 years. Expect the next record, whenever it drops, to continue the damn-near perfect streak they've been riding since Reveille. ETHAN JAYNE Also see My, What a Busy Week!.

Kevin Seconds, Alexander Hudjohn, Dylan Summers

(Hawthorne Theatre Lounge, 1507 SE 39th) Punk is not jazz, nor is it blues, so when any punk—legendary or otherwise—hits their 40s, it's a shock to witness them alive, not to mentioning performing music. Much like punk economics—where for decades it was acceptable to charge more for a cheaply made CD than it was for its elaborately packaged LP counterpart—there is an unfair caste system to growing old in a genre that never really planned this far ahead. What I'm trying to say is, the Kevin Seconds is playing a tiny lounge and you really should go. He probably won't play "Walk Together, Rock Together," and a circle pit is most certainly not encouraged, but Seconds' acoustic solo material is immersed in Americana and thoroughly enjoyable. Also, whatever you do, don't get in his face and try to finger-point; you might jab the man in his eye. EAC


The Rob AND Zach Show, Little White Teeth

(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) See Music.

Chain AND The Gang, Turbo Fruits, Golden Triangle, DJ YETI

(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) Ian Svenonius—former frontman for Nation of Ulysses, the Make-Up, Scene Creamers, and Weird War, and current author, online talk show host, and mouthpiece for Chain and the Gang—wants you to believe that liberty is bad. "Everywhere liberty goes, it leaves a path of destruction. Fast food, bad architecture, militarism, rampant greed, environmental destruction, imperial conquest, class struggle; these phenomena, when combined, seem to be synonymous with 'Liberty.'" The sharp-dressed and sharper-spoken Svenonius wants you to join him and chant, "Down with liberty... Up with chains! Put those handcuffs on my hands!" But WILL you join him? On this new anti-authoritarian, anti-American, freedom-hating quest for the truth? After seeing him flail around like a televangelist preacher on trucker speed at one of his live shows, you just might! KO


(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) I wouldn't blame you for thinking psychedelic rock is dead. A near half-century after psychedelia's first flourish in the 1960s, there's plenty of it still being made, and a lot of it, quite frankly, isn't very good. But man oh man, do not sleep on Sleepy Sun. They do psychedelic rock the old-school way—guitars that sound like they've burst into flame, country-howl vocals with eerie harmonies, heavy and relentlessly long jams, drugged-out rhythms that sound like they're going to fall apart before kicking into high gear—and they do it very fucking well. Their first album, Embrace, was a cannonball of righteous, bombastic psych, and their new album Fever is even better. With fantastic local band Tu Fawning opening the gig, you won't want to miss a single note of this show. NL