Quasi at the Doug Fir

I headed off this evening (last night, as you read this) to see Quasi at the Doug Fir. Of course, there were a couple of opening acts to be dealt with. First up were The Golden Bears:


I knew next to nothing about this band, and they turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. The Golden Bears are the husband and wife team of Julianna Bright (drums and vocals) and Seth Lorinczi (guitar). Tonight they brought along a bass player and a second guitarist, who rounded out their sound quite nicely. Julianna's vocals remind me a bit of Margo Timmins, but her stage presence is somewhat more dynamic; think Tori Amos meets Baby Dee. Next up was Eat Skull:


I came to this show wanting to give these guys a second chance. Really. I first saw them about a month ago, when they opened for the Dirtbombs at Berbati's. I caught the last few songs of their set, and I wasn't very impressed. But I figured, a few songs are a few songs, and if I ever see them again, I should keep an open mind. Which I did tonight, and it did not pay off. Eat Skull combine the most ridiculous and sophomoric elements of '60s garage rock, '70s punk rock and '80s hairspray rock into one big ill-conceived mess. You can't help but get the idea that they're trying to lampoon something, but they haven't quite figured out what that is. Which would be bad enough on its own, but ultimately somebody's going to have to listen to it. Which we did tonight at the Fir, and it was still pretty awful. I don't care if their record did get an 8.3 from Pitchfork (we've all seen the "Hambone" footage, we know how easy it is to get an 8.3 from Pitchfork...); for my money, the true measure of a band is what they can pull off in front of a crowd, and in this regard, Eat Skull really weren't doing it for me tonight. Fortunately, they were followed by a bunch who know what they're doing... Quasi:


Quasi has become something of a Portland institution over the years, and are a band of multiple pedigrees: They got their start in 1993 as a collaboration between singer/guitarist/keyboardist Sam Coomes, who'd put in time on the bass with Portland grunge band Heatmiser, and drummer/vocalist Janet Weiss, who would go on to hit the skins for Sleater-Kinney. Interestingly enough, they formed the band not long after their divorce. They continued as a duo for years until recruiting bassist Joanna Bolme in 2006, who was then - and still is - playing bass for Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks (Weiss, as it happens, is the Jicks' current drummer), thereby solidifying their current line-up as a trio. An incestuous relationship to be sure, but one that works. Quasi just rocked us stupid tonight at the Fir. They started their set with "Alice the Goon" and continued with a few more piano-oriented numbers, but eventually Sam stepped away from the keys and threw on his SG. And this is where Quasi truly shine in a live setting: as a guitar-driven power trio. They kept on in this vein for the bulk of the set, before getting back into the piano material with a blistering version of "Death Culture Blues" and finishing out their set as they'd begun. Quasi put on a fantastic show, and were a stark contrast to the band they followed; as always, they more than measured up to their reputation.

Oh, and I gotta give a shout out to Michael: You, my man, are the best bartender in all of Multnomah county!

The Mighty Vic Chesnutt at the Doug Fir

It's hard to imagine a better pairing of artist and venue than Vic Chesnutt and the Doug Fir...

First up were Portland's own Hush Records (I knew that was Podington Bear - aka Chad Crouch - I spotted at the merch booth; my friend Jenni and I had dinner with the guy and his wife once at clarklewis... very cool cat) recording artists Run On Sentence:


Run On Sentence is the project of Dustin Hamman. Dustin's a very dynamic singer, and has worked with a number of musicians in the Portland scene, most notably Nick Jaina's band. Last night he surrounded himself with the bassist you see in the photo, a drummer and two trumpeters, top-notch players, the all of them. The trumpeters also sang back up, and at one point one of them broke out a nifty little device that looked like a laptop, but once opened, turned into a mini-xylophone! Anybody know where I can get my hands on one of these? Anyway, Run On Sentence's set was an odd mixed bag. Rootsy, folksy, a little bit old-timey, they evoked artists as varied as Leon Redbone, the Violent Femmes and Neutral Milk Hotel. Sound like a weird description? Well, they're a weird band! But in a good way. The Neutral Milk Hotel comparison, incidentally, has some significance here; Neutral Milk Hotel were part of the Elephant Six collective, as were the next band up, Elf Power:


Elf Power were astounding. My only complaint with this band is that singer Andrew Rieger's voice is just a little too thin to stand up to his own guitar work, as well as the firepower around him. It's a minor complaint, though. Elf Power have moved beyond their psych-pop roots, and were quite a bit noisier last night than their name would suggest. It should also be said that they've got the best rhythm section I've seen in years. Their bassist, in particular, was just crazy good. In addition to playing their own music, Elf Power are serving as Vic Chesnutt's backing band on this tour.

So yes, on to Vic: The last time I saw Vic Chesnutt was about ten years ago, when he was opening for Wilco on their Summerteeth tour, in a relatively large auditorium in Grand Rapids, MI filled with people who clearly did not understand what they were seeing. While I was in awe, much of the rest of the crowd actually booed Vic that night, believe it or not. Now if you're not familiar with Vic Chesnutt, one thing you need to know is that he was in a horrible car accident back in 1983, in which his neck was broken and he was rendered a paraplegic. He gets around in a wheelchair, and has basically no use of his right hand, and not much use of his left hand either. He strums with a pick strapped to his right thumb, and can only barely form chords. So from a technical standpoint, Eddie Van Halen he's not. But as a songwriter, he's unbelievable. Chesnutt's writing is characterized by his ability to build narrative around metaphor, spinning seemingly innocuous pairings of words like "Independence Day" or "Sewing Machine" into tales of loss and regret so raw and honest, so powerful and enigmatic, that they won't just make you cry, they'll make your dog cry. Vic's songs would do George Jones proud. Fortunately, in a live setting he tempers this with self-effacing humor. He prefaced the song "Little Fucker" by mentioning that "it's a song about me."

Vic and Elf Power made their way through a set of songs from their recent collaborative album "Dark Developments" (Vic has a long history of collaboration, having worked over the years with REM, Victoria Williams, Widespread Panic and Lambchop), then he treated us to a bit of his solo work, including "Isadora Duncan" and the aforementioned "Independence Day" (unfortunately, no "Sewing Machine" despite my repeated shouts for it). This was a fantastic show. I hope it won't be ten years before I see him again...

Frightened Rabbit at Holocene

I headed over to Holocene last night to catch Glasgow's Frightened Rabbit. These guys have been getting a lot of press lately, so much so that it would seem they might just be the biggest thing to come out of Scotland since Franz Ferdinand. What with Holocene being just a few blocks from my house, there was no excuse to not have a look. I got there just in time to catch the last few songs of the opening act, Portland's own Blue Skies for Black Hearts.

I'm a little behind the eight ball with regard to BSFBH, so it was good to finally catch 'em live. They served up some good intelligent indie pop... Imagine Elliott Smith shoving Elvis Costello into John Lennon's swimming pool, disrupting a water polo match between the Shins and the Kinks (if you can work out what they sound like from an analogy as messy as that, I'll be really impressed). Having only caught the last few songs of their set, I may have to keep an eye out for 'em at some point in the future. Frightened Rabbit were up next.

When I first heard FR, I picked up on a sort of forced earnestness that I found a little off-putting. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but it brought to mind all those britpop bands I could never devote more than five minutes to. But after a few listens to their latest, The Midnight Organ Fight (for those of you not up on your scottish slang, "midnight organ fight" is a euphamism for, shall we say, the physical expression of love), I started to warm up to 'em. And at Holocene last night, they really sold their schtick. They were clearly having fun, and didn't miss an opportunity to "take the piss" out of the crowd, as they say over there. The funniest thing about the evening, though, had to do with being the night before Halloween. There were two girls at the front of the crowd wearing homemade backpack-mounted giraffe costumes:


Imagine yourself at the back of the room, looking out over the crowd toward the band onstage, with two giraffes bobbing around up front. You can't help but laugh at that, nor could frontman Scott Hutchison, seen here working the crowd solo (sans microphone!) toward the end of the set:


For all the talk these days about Frightened Rabbit, they weren't headlining the show. That role was filled by Delaware's Spinto Band. I didn't stick around to see them, as I was operating on four hours of sleep, but Frightened Rabbit made for a worthwhile, if short, evening. Now I don't feel so bad about missing the Jesus and Mary Chain show at the Wonder a few weeks back.

Does Satan Wear a Suit and Tie?

My friend Kevin is in town this weekend on business. Kevin, whom I used to work with at REI, now works in the Denver office of Columbia Sportswear, which is headquartered right here in Portland, so he gets to come back to town a couple times a year on the company dime. This time around he added a couple days to his trip so he could round up a bunch of us to see Martin Sexton at the Aladdin Theater last night. I hadn't seen Martin before, but have long been a fan and have downloaded a few of his live shows from The Internet Archive, so I knew to expect a good performance. Martin did not let us down. Nor did his opener, fellow Massachusetts singer/songwriter Ryan Montbleau:


Ryan's got a band back in Cambridge, but is touring with Martin as a solo act. This was not a disappointment, however, as it allowed him to fully showcase his amazing guitar work. He looks all of 19, but he's clearly been playing for a while, and can sing as well (his range is pretty impressive). His sound is somewhere between David Gray and Jason Mraz, with a little Stevie Wonder breaking through in places. Great stuff. Next up was Martin:


Now that's an awfully blurry photo, I realize, and here's why that is, apart from the fact that I don't have a very fast lens: After I got the above shot of Ryan, the gestapo, I mean ushers, at the Aladdin threatened to make me erase my memory card if they caught me taking any more pictures. Apparently, it's just fine to take all the photos you want with a cell phone, but if you bring in a real camera, you're breaking some sort of WTO copyright agreement or some such... So long story short, I kept my eye on the ushers, and when they were both downstairs, and the lights were dark enough that they wouldn't see me, I snuck up to the balcony and ripped out a few illicit shots. None of which turned out very well, so if you want to know what Martin really looks like (and sounds like), check out the video at the top of the post.

If you're not familiar with Martin Sexton - and odds are you're not - all you really need to know about him is that he's just unbelievably good. He's eclectic to say the least, a little bluesey, a little jazzy, soulful and improvisational. While his recorded ouptut is great, a live setting is where he really shines, and last night was no exception. He opened with "Candy," and halfway through the song, busted out his trademark talk-box solo, which he repeated a few times through the set. In addition to his newer material, he offered up a number of crowd favorites like "Diner," "The Beast in Me," "Freedom of the Road" and "Hallelujah" (there's no way he could get out of the building without doing that one). Being a Massachusetts boy, he went into a couple of political diatribes, which some folks might find a little off-putting, but here in Portland we've come to not only expect but welcome this sort of thing. One highlight of the show was a rendition of "America the Beautiful" which was entirely appropriate given our current political scenario. He pulled it off with a perfect balance of earnestness and angry irony, a little reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix' famous version of the Star Spangled Banner.

He wrapped up with two encores, one of which was a duet with Ryan Montbleau on a song I wasn't familiar with. At any rate, fantastic show, check these guys out if they come to your town. You might also want to have a look at this funny Scrubs montage set to "Diner."

Enormous Gravel at the Doug Fir

So I headed out last night to catch Giant Sand at Portland's favorite space age log cabin of rock, the Doug Fir. Jenni was down from Olympia for the weekend, so we met up with a couple of "the Johns", in this case Jon the architect and John the Irishman. Here we see the architect and Jenni:


They sorta look like they should be on that "Stuff White People Like" website, don't they? The first band to go on was Tracker:


Tracker is the recording and performing project of local producer John Askew. They had a good sound, a little rootsy, a little twangy, with just enough punch to keep things interesting. And although we couldn't be 100% sure, the Irishman and I were convinced that they had Amanda and Paul from Point Juncture, WA ("it's a band, not a town") sitting in with them. If that wasn't who they were, they sure looked like 'em. And really, how many people in Portland play the vibraphone? Next up was Calgary, Alberta's Chad VanGaalen:


VanGaalen's recorded output is best characterized by dense and unconventional instrumentation (an inveterate basement tinkerer, VanGaalen is, like Askew, a record producer), as well as a quirky style of singing which brings to mind a yodeling contest between James Mercer and Ben Bridwell, officiated by Jeff Mangum (stop me before I name-check again!). He came to Portland with just a drummer, however, and the two of them made their way through a set of enjoyable, if spare, numbers.

Last up were the evening's headliners, Giant Sand. These guys have been around since 1985. They've put out sixteen records. And somehow they've managed to stay more or less off my radar for most of that time. I'd heard jagged shards of them here and there, but like most people, I'm more familiar with Calexico, an offshoot formed by a previous GS rhythm section. Based in Tucson and anchored by singer/guitarist Howe Gelb, Giant Sand has had a fluid membership over the years, and guest musicians on GS projects read like a who's who of Americana's eccentric garde: M. Ward, Victoria Williams, Vic Chesnutt and most of the members Poi Dog Pondering have all lent their talents to the band at various points in its history. Last night's performance was delivered by the current line-up of Gelb, slide guitarist Anders Pedersen, bassist Thøger Lund (I guess there are more Scandinavians in Tucson than one might imagine) and drummer Peter Dombernowsky. Here's a shot of Gelb in action:


Gelb keeps chickens in his backyard, by the way, so he's not wearing that feed cap purely out of irony... I was really impressed with their set, as were Jenni and the architect. Giant Sand's sound is all swirling dust and hot wind and prickly pear, uniquely evocative of their Southern Arizona surroundings. Appropriately for a man who's spent a good deal of his adult life with too much sun and too little water, Gelb's vocals provide a dry, spiny delivery for his elliptical peyote-esque lyrics, not unlike Chester the Cheetah channeling Lou Reed channeling the beat poets of 1950s North Beach, with a little Leonard Cohen thrown in for good measure (the Lou Reed comparison is not lost on Gelb, incidentally, as the band encored with "Satellite of Love"). Both he and Pedersen make heavy yet judicious use of signal processing, building then tumbling juxtapositions of sound which turn any given song from one mood to the next on the proverbial dime, all the while backed up by a rhythm section at once firmly grounded and subtly improvisational. As a songwriter, Gelb comes out of a place just a few blocks down the way from Townes Van Zandt or James McMurtry. A place a bit more mercurial and abstruse, but within the same zip code.

The Irishman took a little while to warm up to Giant Sand. I think he was a little put off by Gelb and Pedersen's reliance on their effects pedals, while I thought they were used to good... well... effect. But he eventually got behind 'em, if reluctantly. At any rate, if you get the chance to see these guys, consider them highly recommended.

MusicFest Northwest 2008!

Well, friends, it has to be said: I punted this year. I didn't buy the MusicFest wrist band. I just had too much else going on this weekend, and couldn't commit. But I did make it out for one show over the weekend, this evening's Kill Rock Stars showcase at Holocene. I'd been poring over the MFNW schedule for a few weeks, and this was one of the shows that I really had my eye on, and as it turns out, the only one I attended. First up were Horse Feathers:


Horse Feathers produce the sort of indie folk that works well as background music for the first time you invite that girl you're into back to your house to cook dinner for her. It could even serve as background music later on in the evening... Sort of like Iron & Wine, except that Iron & Wine actually stands on its own merits in situations that don't involve cooking or sex. A little harsh? Maybe... but while Horse Feathers were pleasant enough, they weren't exactly working the crowd. Not tonight, anyway.

Next up was Panther (check out the mesmerizing Rob McConnaughy directed video for "You Don't Want Yr Nails Done" here; my colleague Richard is friends with the people who made the cardboard props, and is currently in possession of the cardboard laptop). Also known as Charlie Salas-Humara (singer, guitarist, powerbook pilot) and Joe Faustin Kelly (drummer), Panther serve up a sort of weirdo performance art madness - somewhat akin to Yacht - that really has to be experienced live. And they rocked it pretty hard tonight. Here's a shot of Salas-Humara, on bended knee, dealing with a microphone stand failure:


It's difficult to tell from the photo, but that wall behind them is actually white. Next up were the Shaky Hands. I don't really know what to say about these guys. They've been called Portland's greatest rock band, by the Mercury I believe, but I could have that wrong. At any rate, I'm not buying it. Don't get me wrong, they're a good band, but Portland's musical pool is pretty deep these days, and there are plenty of bands in town that have it all over the Shaky Hands. A couple posts back, I heralded Tango Alpha Tango as (possibly) Portland's best band. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...

The evening's headliners were Thao and the Get Down Stay Down, whose video I posted up top. This band, along with Panther, was the reason I was at Holocene this evening. A couple of friends of mine caught them a while back and tipped me off to 'em. I've been getting a lot of mileage out of their CD We Brave Bee Stings and All (which is nothing short of astounding - see the Pitchfork review here) in the past few weeks, and was really looking forward to seeing 'em live. Did they measure up? Unfortunately, no, for one reason: they were missing one of their members. Given that the bass player and drummer remained, the missing member would presumably be Frank Stewart, who's credited in their Wikipedia article as lead guitarist and producer. Guitar and banjo parts were conspicuously absent throughout the set, and while the three of them did their best to carry the load on their own, well, you just can't fake a missing limb. All of this of course begs the question, what happened to Frank? Did he die? Did he go back to school? Did he resign to spend time with his family like so many in the Bush administration? Who knows... Was I disappointed? Well, I hesitate to say yes. I'm more than willing to give these guys a second chance, but only once they've worked out their line-up issues.

So that was my MusicFest experience for this year, what there was of it, anyway. To those of you here in Portland, I hope you got out and saw more of it than I did. Hopefully, next year I'll be able to devote myself to it a little more fully and give a proper report.

Capitol Hill Block Party 2008

So I headed up to Olympia this past weekend to hang out with my favorite Portland expatriate, Jenni, and drag her along to this year's Capitol Hill Block Party, arguably Seattle's best music festival (that's Jenni's wrist in the photo, by the way). Mind you, I had to give up PDX Pop Now!, one of Portland's better music festivals, to attend, so you know there must have been some good acts on the bill...

Friday's lineup was great, and included my own city's Menomena, but I had to limit myself to Saturday. So the plan was this: The Builders and the Butchers (another Portland band; what is it with these music curators in Seattle poaching our talent, anyway?), The Fleet Foxes, Throw Me the Statue, The Hold Steady and DeVotchKa, in that order.

The festival started off on a good note for me as Jenni and I were walking in the entrance, when the girl taking the tickets said to me, "Your chops are fresh!" (my chops, while not quite Lemmy grade, are indeed fresh, if I do say so myself). We were meeting up with my cousin Brad and his people at the Comet, and being as the line outside Neumo's was insurmountably long, we decided to skip the Builders/Butchers and have a pint with Brad and his friends. After about an hour, we all headed out to the main stage, in the intersection of Pike and 10th, right between the Comet and Neumo's, to catch the Fleet Foxes:

This is the band I was most looking forward to seeing (Appearing on Letterman! Touring with Wilco!), and I'm glad to say they did not disappoint. While they describe their sound as "sleepy" on their Myspace page, I think they might be selling themselves a bit short. While that word does go some way towards describing them, it fails to take into account the impeccable guitar work, the very solid rhythm section and harmonies which at times evoke, as most good harmonies will, Crosby Stills and Nash. Not that they're a bunch of sixties folk revivalists or anything... they're indie folk revivalists! (but then, who isn't these days?) There's some rock in there as well, of course. A touch of Pet Sounds era Beach Boys, along with a little Band of Horses... I could go on. Good mix of stuff, check 'em out.

After the Foxes' set the six of us headed over to a gallery/bar (a great idea, by the way. Is anybody in Portland doing this yet?) called Grey. Alice Tippit and Chris McCullen were the featured artists on the walls, and a Sapphire G&T was the featured drink in my hand. We killed time in this stark yet beautifully appointed room (which used to be the OK Hotel, as seen in the movie "Singles"), until it was time to catch Throw Me the Statue's set back at Neumo's. Unfortunately, TMTS was a bit of a bust, and we skipped out early and headed back into the Comet to wait for The Hold Steady. Here's a shot of them taken with a camera, well... not held very steady:

I wanted to like these guys a lot more than I did. I hadn't heard much of them before the show, but they've garnered quite a bit of press in the recent past, and I figured I'd enjoy their set, which I did, just... not very much. They'd have been fun enough as a bar band, or at least marginally impressive in a Husker-Du influenced sort of way. But all they amounted to was a bar band version of Husker-Du, and that just kinda fell a bit flat. Luckily, we didn't have to wait long for DeVotchKa to go on:

You could lump these guys from Denver in with the recent rash of bands that mine Eastern European traditions for both inspiration and instrumentation, mixing said traditions with more modern sesibilities... say, Gogol Bordello, Beirut, A Hawk and a Hacksaw, etc. DeVotchKa play it a bit closer to their American roots, however. I might put them a little closer to The Arcade Fire than the rest of those gypsy rockers. A great set from one of the few bands out there these days with a tuba player.

Of course, we did eat some over the weekend, and as I haven't posted anything about food on this blog for a good long while, it would seem an appropriate time to fill you all in on a good breakfast place in Olympia, should you head up (or down) there anytime soon:

This place used to be called Rose's, but is now Sage's Brunch House. It's on the west side, just down the block from the Olympia Food Co-op, and I'm gathering it was at one point some sort of general store. Nowadays, they serve up some of the best breakfast grub I've had in quite a while. I had the biscuits and gravy with a potato pancake, while Jenni had the smoked salmon scramble, also with a potato pancake:



Well, there you have it. My weekend in Olympia/Seattle. I wish I could say Olympia offered up a little more excitement than it did, but college towns tend to be pretty dead in the summers, of course. Good thing it's smack dab between Portland and Seattle.

You'd Better Get It While You Can...

I headed off this evening (okay, techically, last night) to Dante's with Risa, the Irishman and the Architect, along with the Architect's new chick and her friend, to see the best band to come out of Detroit since the MC5: the Dirtbombs. Don't know 'em? Well, I'm not surprised... But you should.

Mick Collins has been kickin' around the Detroit music world since the early 1980s, when he played in the U-Boats and the Floor Tasters, and then fronted the Gories, a band which, it could be strongly argued, set the stage for the emergence of the White Stripes, and for that matter, the rest of the Detroit garage rock scene of recent years. After the demise of the Gories, Collins went on to host a WDET radio show, become a UNIX programmer, produce a record for Andre Williams, collaborate with acts as varied as Alex Chilton and Rocket From the Crypt, and ultimately form the band that rocked Dante's on this fourteenth of May.

Mick and company (and I just have to interject here to say that Ko Shih is the sexiest bass player on Earth - yes, even more so than both Kim Gordon and Kim Deal) came out swingin' this evening. They opened with Leopardman at C&A, off the new record, and settled into a set which favored the old material as much as the new, including a few favorites of mine: Ode to a Black Man, Underdog, Start the Party and Motor City Baby... For their encore, they didn't disappoint, busting out the perennial crowd favorite I Can't Stop Thinking About It. I was expecting them to play their version of Dead Moon's Fire in the Western World at some point (this being Portland and all), but I guess it just wasn't to be. I also would've loved to hear their excellent hispanocentric cover of Stevie Wonder's Livin' for the City... Ah well, next time perhaps. At any rate, it was still a fantastic performance. I'll leave you with some footage from a show they played in Brisbane last week:

A Totally Random Tim Robbins Encounter

A couple friends and I headed out on Friday to see some music. After a quick pint at the Shanghai Tunnel, we headed over to Kelly's Olympian, where Swim Swam Swum, The Future of the Ghost and System and Station were on the bill. We settled in on the bar side of Kelly's before the music started, and I guess we lost track of time, because we wound up missing Swim Swam Swum's set altogether, a little disappointing, as they're a good band. But we eventually made our way over to the other room, and just as we did, a tall, bespectacled, silver haired man with an acoustic guitar was setting up on stage. I said to my friends, "Who's that guy? He looks a lot like Tim Robbins". And in fact it was. He wasn't on the bill, there was no announcement of his performance, he just... appeared. He played seven or eight songs, one of them a cover of Steve Earle's Christmas In Washington, which to me sounds an awful lot like Ellis Unit One with different lyrics, but I digress. While Tim Robbins isn't best known for his music, I have to say, he did a great job. He's a perfectly adequate guitarist, and he's actually got a pretty good singing voice. It was quite a treat.

I managed to corner him after his set to basically ask him what he was doing there. I phrased the question a bit more diplomatically than that, though. I think I said something to the effect of "So Tim, I'm curious, what circumstances have brought you to Portland on this evening to perform for us?" I was expecting him to say that he happened to be in town and so and so in one of the bands was his cousin and invited him along or something like that, but all he would tell me was "Well, I live here". So there you have it. Tim Robbins lives in Portland (presumably, Susan Sarandon does as well) and shows up at random System and Station shows to play Steve Earle covers. Who would have imagined? And yes, he really is as tall as they say.

The next act up was The Future of the Ghost, who were, perhaps even more than Tim Robbins, the happy surprise of the night. These guys were excellent. I'd checked out their Myspace page beforehand and liked what I heard, but I really didn't know anything about them, other than that they're a bunch of unsigned kids from Salt Lake City. But they took that stage and owned it from the first moment. They were super tight, appeared to be having a lot of fun, played a great brand of eccentric indie pop-rock and had an incredible stage presence I haven't seen since I saw The Sleepy Jackson open for The Polyphonic Spree at the Alladin Theater a few years back. This is a band to watch, people!

System and Station were up next. I like this band a lot, and I'm really rooting for them, because it seems like they haven't been having an easy time of things recently, what with multiple line up changes and all. They've got their following, but it seems as though not many folks in Portland know who they are. I'm told that System and Station share a number of members with Kieskagato, so maybe they're just seen as a side project of that band. Who knows? They did a good job at any rate, and weren't nearly as loud as the last couple times I saw them, which was nice, to be honest. Lead singer RFK Heise admitted a number of times that he was a little toasted (it was his birthday), but managed to hit all the notes pretty much right. And they played a lot of older stuff, so clearly those Kieskagato guys are committed to the catalogue. This is a good band, and like I said, I'm pullin' for 'em.

To get back to that Tim Robbins thing though, I'm not entirely convinced that he was telling me the truth about having moved here. A little internet research revealed that he's in town for a film project, but nothing more. Tim, if you're reading this, perhaps you can clear things up for myself and my readers (even though it's really none of our business). Enquiring minds want to know, as they say. Loved you in Bob Roberts, by the way...

No Canadian Stoner Rock For You!

I headed out with my buddy John the Irishman this evening to see Vancouver, BC arena rock revivalists Black Mountain at the Doug Fir. I was excited about this show. Black Mountain are, according to Carrie Brownstein, via her music blog on NPR, quite the lads to be paying attention to, one of many fine bands coming out of Western Canada these days. Very much in the same vein as Wolfmother, say, or Queens of the Stone Age. And to boot, the openers were Oakland's Howlin' Rain, who possess, shall I say it, far too much talent for their own good...

But alas, it was not to be. The show was sold out. I knew I should've bought tickets in advance, but I ignored my insticts, and paid for it as usual... So we headed a few blocks south to the old Pine Street Theater/La Luna space, which now houses Biwa, for a quick bite to eat. I ordered the house sake and a bowl of house-made ramen with egg and chinese BBQ pork:


The Irishman ordered exactly the same thing, but with Canadian bacon in lieu of the Chinese BBQ pork (in mockery of my evening's disappointment, to be sure). From there we headed to the Slammer, the significance of which can only be appreciated by those who live in, or frequent, southeast Portland:


That sign's been there for as long as I can remember. Apparently, the speakers used to get touched a lot. I keep coming back to the Slammer. But much as I love the place, it can't make up for Canadian stoner rock. Or maybe it's the other way around... I don't know... I'm going to bed...

Raygun... Naked Raygun!

I made my way to Dante's this evening to meet up with the Jon the architect. The occasion for this meet-up at Dante's was a performance by the Chicago based seminal 80's punk outfit Naked Raygun. I never saw these guys back in my high school days, and I was certainly glad to have the belated chance tonight. Once at the club, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, unlike last night, this crowd was composed of people who were likely old enough to have been fans of the Raygun back in the day. Most of them were probably middle managers by now, in fact. But they still had the look (although they were given away by the earplugs they were all wearing; I figure I've still got a good five years before I've gotta wear 'em myself). And they had the energy as well, bless 'em...

San Francisco's Swingin' Utters were a few songs into their set when I arrived. Impressive; Solid punk rock. Not much more than that to be said... they were great. Great enough that I bought a T-shirt, if that's any indication (no faint praise coming from this boy). Once they were done, Pabsts in hand, we waited for the Raygun.

And the Raygun did not disappoint. I spent a good part of their set in the pit, protecting my beer from my fellow weekend warriors, of course, all the while getting jostled a bit more than I'm used to these days. I was tempted to get up there with the band and do a stage dive... would've too, but for that damn beer I was protecting! Okay okay, it wasn't the beer's fault, it was mine... I've got a great medical plan, I really should've stepped up, I suppose. Ah well, next time, I promise!

Anyway, it was a good time. And that's all you're getting out of this aging punk rocker tonight... I gotta go to bed!

100th Post!

It would seem only appropriate to dedicate this milestone to something I've cooked or eaten recently, but this weekend is not a food weekend. It's a music weekend. So bear with me, people...

This was almost a beer related post. Jenni and I made plans to head to the Holiday Ale Festival happening this weekend in Pioneer Courthouse Square. But at the last moment, we switched gears and decided to meet up with the Irishman and the Architect at a free Yacht/Thermals show at Backspace. We grabbed a quick pint at East and made our way over to the venue, only to find out that they were at capacity, with around 50 people waiting outside. Not too much of a disappointment for me, as I've seen Yacht and The Thermals, but a little bit of a bummer for the other three. So Jenni, the Irishman and I grabbed a Willamette Week and a Mercury and headed to the Shanghai Tunnel to strategize over another pint and some food (I had something called Fugo, a rice bowl with chicken and peanut sauce, which was very tasty; there's your food component), where the Architect and Jenni's friend Mike met up with us. After a quick perusal of the listings, we decided on another free show, a release party for a split 12" between Loch Lomond and The Builders and the Butchers at Slabtown, the storied former hangout of the Dandy Warhols. Unfortunately, we lost Jenni and Mike at this point.

We got to Slabtown only to find that they were at capacity as well, but being as there was no line, we managed to get in within ten minutes or so, in time to catch experimental indie folksters Loch Lomond:


Loch Lomond aren't exactly my cup of tea, but I did like what they were doing. They sort of reminded me of a more etherial version of Belle and Sebastian, but whereas B&S are completely insufferable (I think it was B&S that were referred to as "sad bastard music" in High Fidelity... I could have that wrong, though), Loch Lomond are actually pretty enjoyable, if you're in the right mood. At any rate, next up were The Builders and the Butchers:


These guys were a lot of fun. They've got a vaguely Celtic Mariachi Punk sound, and passed out noisemakers, rattles and toy drums to the audience, which was almost entirely composed of people at least ten years younger than myself. It's good to be part of a rowdy and youngish crowd once in a while.

So that was last night. One possibility for this evening is Naked Raygun at Dante's. Anyway, thanks for reading the nearly food-free centennial post. Hope you enjoyed it. I'm off to rally the troops...

MusicFestNW: Saturday Night

I had only one band on my agenda for tonight's installment of MusicFest: Atlanta feedback pilots Deerhunter.

I've encountered some long lines this weekend, and as I figured Deerhunter (pictured above) would be a pretty strong draw in Portland, I got to the venue a full 40 minutes before their set was to begin. Said venue was, no surprise, the Doug Fir (this place is becoming my home away from home; it's gotten to the point where the bartender no longer has to ask me what I want). And wouldn't you know, once I got there... no line at all! Which meant that I was able to catch some of the previous act, Chicago's Bobby Conn:


This guy was easily the sleeper of this year's MusicFest for me. He's fused 1970s glam rock and arena rock about as well as anyone can in the new millenium. To listen to what's on his Myspace page, you wouldn't think much of him, but what I saw tonight was something else entirely. His stage presence recalls the androgynous vibe of early Bowie (as you can see from the photo, he looks a bit like Eddie Izzard), and he and his band channeled the energy of that decade at its best. Imagine pre-1984 Van Halen with a punk rock violin player. Great stuff! I wish I'd gotten there earlier...

After Bobby Conn, Deerhunter almost fell a bit flat at first. They seemed a bit too noisy, a bit too dischordant. But after a few songs, they began to hit their stride. In their better moments they came close, not quite but close, to channeling My Bloody Valentine (and yes, I have seen My Bloody Valentine live, so I know full well what an amazing, if painful, experience that is...), and washed the room with a beautiful onslaught of crazy, distorted, reverby sound. Just the right note on which to end the third night of MusicFest!

The festival wraps up with a single show at the Crystal Ballroom tomorrow night. It's a show I want to see, but I haven't yet decided if I'm actually going to be there...

MusicFestNW: Friday Night

I went out for another MusicFest fix tonight. First up were Seattle's electro dance popsters Valella Valella at Holocene. I've been disappointed by this band before, but I figured I'd give them another chance. I was disappointed once again. They just don't make sense to me. I'll give you an example: their drum parts are all programmed, but at one point one of them spent the better part of an entire song playing a lone crash cymbol. Why? Just program the crash cymbol and give the guy something useful to do! I really don't get what these guys are doing, but they seem to have found their audience, so more power to 'em...

Fortunately, it got better from there. I made my way to the Doug Fir, stood in line for about 20 minutes, and caught Eric Bachmann, formerly of Archers of Loaf, now of Crooked Fingers. He's currently on tour as a solo act, accompanied by a keyboard player and a violinist. He's got a sort of acoustic country folk troubador thing going on, and his voice, at once assertive and plaintive, perfectly suits the form. Something in his delivery reminds me of Richard Buckner. Very good stuff.

Next up at the Fir were a playful, arty noise-rock outfit from Brooklyn called Grizzly Bear, pictured above. Think Sonic Youth meets Iron and Wine, with occasional four part harmonies (yes, you heard me right). They have a very loose and abstract approach to song structure, which I tend to like. I was impressed.

Stay tuned for more MusicFest...

MusicFestNW: Thursday Night

Tonight was the first night of MusicFestNW, Portland's answer to South By Southwest. I picked up my wristband this afternoon at the remaining outlet of Music Millenium, and later set out for the Crystal Ballroom to see Viva Voce's 10 pm set. Unfortunately, this was not to be. I got to the Crystal at about 9:40 and took my place at the end of the line. Which stretched around the block. This didn't bode particularly well, but the line started moving, so I figured there might be a chance I'd catch at least part of their set. But after about 15 minutes, a member of the Crystal's staff came out to inform us all that they'd reached capacity and that none of us were going to get in. This wouldn't bother me too much if it had been simply a supply and demand thing... MusicFest works on the wristband principle. You buy a wristband, which gets you access to all of the venues, all weekend long, and from there it's first come, first served. But here's the rub: The Crystal sold tickets to this show as well. So the folks with tickets got in no matter what, while those of us that had ponied up our forty bucks for the wristband were left holding the bag. Frankly, I found myself a little chapped about this. I figure, if you're going to include the show in the MusicFest line up, don't undercut those of us participating in the wristband flim flam by selling a bunch of tickets. I'm not even sure who to be upset with here... The Crystal? Viva Voce? MusicFest? But hey, I didn't let it ruin my night. I came home, made myself some Mac & Cheese and headed to Berbati's to see Roky Erickson:


I encountered another line outside Berbati's, but this time I was far enough up in the line to get in after a couple songs. Roky fronted a band back in the mid-1960s called the 13th Floor Elevators, and as legend has it, coined the term "psychedelic." There wasn't much psychedelia to what he played tonight, it was pretty much just four guys about your dad's age playing straightforward blusey rock. But they did a good job, and the crowd (average age being less than half that of the guys onstage) couldn't get enough.

From there I went to the Doug Fir to see the Portland's own Shaky Hands:


And, another line (I don't remember encountering lines last year)! But I managed to get in before they started. I saw this band at Holocene about a year ago, and they had a pop-ish sound, sort of a British Invasion Garage Rock thing, going on. They must have written some new material since, because what I heard tonight was a more nuanced, quiet/loud kind of thing. Imagine the Walkmen and the Pixies all mashed together. Pretty good stuff. Worth keeping an eye on.

Cloud Cult and Pela at the Doug Fir

So what does anything you're about to read have to do with food? Nothing at all, but it's my damn birthday so deal with it!

Jenni and I headed out on this 36th birthday evening of mine to see Minneapolis' Cloud Cult at the Doug Fir. I'd heard these guys before, a few months ago (okay, I'm a bit behind the curve here, as these guys have been around since '98, but do I live in Minneapolis? No, I DON'T live in Minneapolis! I can't be on top of everything, people...), and I was keen to see what they could do in person.

I got to the Fir a bit ahead of Jenni, and was lucky enough to catch the last three songs of the opening band, Brooklyn's Pela:

Pela were simply astounding. Just total full on rock. Exactly what a rock band is supposed to be, to my taste anyway. They took ownership of the stage in a way I haven't witnessed since I saw The Sleepy Jackson open for The Polyphonic Spree at the Alladin back in 2002 (I'm no fan of SJ's recorded output, but in person they tear up a room like no band you've ever seen; best opening band since Pearl Jam toured with the Chili Peppers in '92... but enough with the name checking, already). They were very much in their element, and really appeared to be enjoying themselves to the fullest. I can tell when a band is phoning it in. Pela were NOT phoning it in! Great showing from these guys, if the last three songs of their set can be taken as a reliable indicator, anyway. Jenni showed up in time to catch the last 30 seconds of their last song. I wish she'd seen more.

Cloud Cult, on the other hand, were a bit disappointing. Perhaps a little backstory is required before I go any further: Cloud Cult are one of these bands who've latched onto the trend of having a painter working onstage while they play (to be fair, given how long they've been around, they may actually have started the trend). Now I've seen this done before, and to good effect. But Cloud Cult didn't have just one painter. They had two, both very talented, I should add. And they had a cellist, which in the context of a rock band, for me tends to throw a wrench into the works to begin with. And they had very elaborate, digitally projected, psychedelic graphics. Taken together, this was all just too much to take in. The music being itself, a pretty good brand of indie folk/pop, ultimately got lost in all of this. They were trying to be too many things at once, I think. They'd be a good band without the painters. They'd be good painters without the band. The psychedelic graphics would be appropriate at an Allman Brothers show. But put all together, it just didn't work for me.

The paintings, done by Scott West (in the black hat) and Connie Minowa (far right), were auctioned off at the end of the evening. West's painting, an expressionistic rendering of a laughing face oddly reminiscent of Maggie Gyllenhaal, was my favorite of the two. His use of color was violent and dynamic, and pefectly suited his sense of form. Minowa's painting of what appeared to be two sisters lamenting... something was more subtle and haunting, the paint applied in a more patient and layered manner. The fact that these two improvised such works in just about an hour is pretty damn impressive. I just wish I'd had my camera on hand to capture what they'd created. They'd do well to jettison the rest of the band...

PDX Pop Now! Part II

I headed off to AudioCinema this evening to catch the last act of the last night of the (FREE!) PDX Pop Now! festival, the experimental alt-country six piece Blitzen Trapper. I'd seen these guys once before, at the Fez last September. They were playing MusicFestNW, and were one of the acts on that festival's bill that I was most looking forward to seeing, having just previously stumbled across their MySpace page and a few random MP3s out there in Interwebland. Unfortunately, I was disappointed by that show. The sound was weird, and the band just seemed to be... not quite off, but really not hitting their stride either, just not communicating well. A little sloppy. Which, considering the quality of their recorded output, what I'd heard of it anyway, was a little surprising.

Clearly a lot has changed in the last year for these guys. They've refined and yet moved beyond their country rock schtick. They've self-released a third album, Wild Mountain Nation, which is being hailed in certain quarters as a breakthrough (8.5 on Pitchfork!). They've opened a secret Modest Mouse show. They've been signed by SubPop. And I have to say, they've tightened up their live act quite a bit, if that last show I saw can be considered a reliable indicator. They very nearly tore the roof off the place tonight. Not quite, but nearly... They were still a bit all over the map musically at times, referencing Dylan, Skynyrd, even the Butthole Surfers. But in their better moments they exhibited a pop sensibility somewhere between Wilco and the Replacements, while maintaining a weird manic energy all their own. Those were the moments that made me wish I'd paid a cover to get in! This, my friends, is a band to keep an eye on.

Have a look at their video for Devil's A-Go-Go here. Unless you're prone to epileptic seizures, in which case you might want to dim your screen and just listen. Trust me on that.

PDX Pop Now! Part I

What do you get when you combine gypsies, burlesque fan dancers, stilt walkers, clowns, puppeteers, minions of Satan and a high school marching band? Well, if you live on the lower east side, you might get something akin to Gogol Bordello. But if you live in Portland, you'll get the March Fourth Marching Band.

This evening I caught up with my friend Fuller, a fellow fixed gear geek with whom I haven't hung out for far too long. I headed out on the bike to meet up with him and his friend Kyle (also riding a fixie) at the Pilsener Room for a couple pints and some seafood/corn chowder (thus fulfilling the food requirement for a post on what is, after all, a food blog; standard McCormick & Schmicks fare, but a perfectly serviceable chowder nonetheless). We then headed over to La Merde and met up with Fuller's friend Abby for another round. Yes, you heard that right. "La Merde," french for "the shit." It's attached to Le Bistro Montage (famous for their leftover tinfoil sculptures). A fun little place underneath the Morrison Bridge in Produce Row. By the time we left, Kyle and Abby were done for the night, but Fuller and I headed a few blocks over to AudioCinema to catch March Fourth's set on the first night of the PDX Pop Now! Festival.

M4 put on quite a show. The stilt walkers made regular forays into the crowd, which made for some interesting audience participation. The rest of the band provided postmodern marching band insanity for the better part of an hour. They're heading out on a nationwide tour this fall, so if they come to your town, I highly recommend checking them out. It's a spectacle unlike any other you're likely to see!

From there Fuller and I went for a nightcap at the Speakeasy, a little dive bar on Taylor, near my mechanic, that I'd been meaning to check out for a while. Here's a shot of their lovely marble bar, taken by Fuller with his new iPhone:


Like any Portland dive bar worth its salt, the Speakeasy has shuffleboard. If you're thinking of the game that's played on cruise ships, that's deck shuffleboard. This was table shuffleboard, an entirely different animal. It's basically a bar version of curling. Fuller was amped up for a game, but I knew that if that happened, we'd never make it out of the place, so I resolutely refused to get involved. Sorry, Fuller. Next time for sure, buddy!

Pasta Weekend Part One and a Half: VooDoo Doughnut

Okay, so doughnuts can't technically be considered pasta, and most of this post is about music anyway, but just bear with me for a bit.

My friend John and I went to Dante's this evening to see Tapes 'n Tapes, who are currently on tour with Ladyhawk and The Harlem Shakes. Unfortunately, we arrived too late to catch any of the Shakes, but Ladyhawk went on just as we had our beers in hand. Ladyhawk is a terrible name for a band, if you ask me, but they were quite impressive. Sort of an agressive roots rock sort of thing, what Richmond Fontaine might sound like if they were a bit more dischordant. Their lead guitarist pulled some very interesting noises out of his guitar, in an almost Kevin Shields sort of way.

Tapes 'n Tapes were great as well, although it took them a few songs to get up to speed, and their keyboard player seemed to be having some issues. They played quite a bit of new material (they apparently have a new record slated for a fall release), as well as most of the songs from their current record, The Loon, and a few older songs. They played Coachella a week ago. Wish I could've gotten down there to see that! It's always good to see a band on the verge of breaking. You can tell they're excited and having a lot of fun, but at the same time they're still a little hungry. There's a pretty funny clip on YouTube that they were involved in, by the way. Check it out here.

So here's where this becomes food-related. After the show, John and I walked across the street to VooDoo Doughnut, which opens at 10 pm, and does a brisk post-Dantes business with doughnuts such as the Blood Filled VooDoo Doughnut (which oozes jam when stabbed), the Memphis Mafia (chocolate chips, banana and peanut butter) and my favorite, the Maple Bacon Bar. Mmmm... Post-Rock doughnuts...