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Up & Coming

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THURSDAY 9/11

LIFE AND TIMES, THE FORTH, ROOM 101, SYSTEM AND STATION
(Ash St, 225 SW Ash) It's just a 24-minute EP, but Life and Times' The Flat End of the Earth offers comfort to those mourning defunct punk band Shiner, who crave fresh doses of singer/guitarist Allen Epley's spacedust-sprinkled riffs and subtly commanding vocals. ANDREW MILLER



I AM SPOONBENDER, JOGGERS CD RELEASE, DUTCH FLAT
(Berbati's, 231 SW Ankeny) The exploding popularity of local lads The Joggers is not a question of "if," but "when." Finding a well deserved home on über-hip Brooklyn label Startime International, getting rave reviews the world over and touring alongside fashionably retro gods Hot Hot Heat, Black Keys, and The Walkmen--all of these point to The Joggers blowing the fuck up. The explosion kicks off tonight with the release of their debut album, Solid Guild. Overloaded with more drunken harmonies than ever before, Solid Guild is a stunning debut record, one that guarantees the band a long future of success and tour riders promising endless supplies of free domestic beer. EZRA ACE CARAEFF



GOLDIE
(Level, 13 NW 6th) In my circles, drum 'n' bass has vanished from the radar. No one talks about it, nobody gushes about amazing new artists. Is jungle dead? The genre's golden age (1992-'97) has long passed, but d'n'b's most flamboyant ambassador, Goldie, is still carrying the torch. Boss of England's excellent Metalheadz label, he is a jungle true believer who has a canon loaded with classic tracks (and some bloated prog bunk that he calls "inner-city ghetto music," but is actually closer to ELP and anodyne New Age). Supporting Metalheadz.03, the label's first comp in six years, Goldie will attempt to prove d'n'b hasn't totally lost the rhythmic inventiveness it pioneered a decade ago. DAVE SEGAL



BANDS AGAINST BUSH: SAWYER FAMILY, BREWZERKUS, SHED, INC., ROSS & THE HELLPETS
(Conan's, 3862 SE Hawthorne) A benefit to raise money to rage against the machine that is our wicked little president. Come tonight, and help the BAB folks put on the real thing in Laurelhurst Park on October 11. JUSTIN WESCOAT SANDERS



FRIDAY 9/12

SPACE IS THE PLACE
(Mississippi Records, 4001 N Mississippi, 9 pm) Bike in to see Sun Ra's Space is the Place (see pg 39), and catch the world premiere of the Spooky Dance Band's video. As such, this is a benefit for Caroline Buchalter. JULIANNE SHEPHERD



THE STANDARD, MENOMENA, HURT BIRD
(Berbati's) The Standard, that Portland band that got signed to Touch and Go and then moved away, are back. If you love them, see them, if you don't know them, they play vaguely hippie indierock, if you miss them, tell them so. Hurt Bird is an instrumental hiphop outfit made up of indierock boys that's in its developing stages. Translation: the jury is deliberating, but hasn't yet reached a verdict. KATIE SHIMER



BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?: JAZZU, DJ CHILL, MELLO CEE
(Holocene, 1001 SW Morrison) Pleasure, my friend; pleasure. This is a fashion show or some shit (read about it on page XX) but what I'm talking about is the sextastically funky hiphop/dancehall/R&B selection of DJs Jazzu, Chill (Five Fingers of Funk), and Mello Cee. All I'm saying is last time I danced to a set by Mello Cee, I got fully freaked on the dancefloor--like total, three-inches-off-the-ground, spoon-style bump-and-grind. Anytime you get freaked on the dancefloor, you know the DJ's doing something RIGHT. JS



CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE, THE PAPERCUTS, THE CULOTTES
(Nocturnal, 1800 E Burnside) At last, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone returns home from his lengthy voyage of the world, opening for The Rapture and Mark Robinson. He uncovered treasures on his sojourn--or rather, his German record label (Tomlab) delivered copies of his latest, Twinkle Echo. It's his best recording yet, not just because his sweet Casio songs sound noisier than ever, but because somewhere along the line, his voice started approximating Louis Armstrong's--gruff and manly as a bear's. Local popsters The Culottes release attraction/repulsion. What a wonderful world. JS



BURNING SPEAR, SHAMIR
(Roseland, NW 6 th & Davis) Burning Spear is responsible for one of the greatest albums ever made, Marcus Garvey (and its dub version, Garvey's Ghost), which was released in 1975 to celebrate the supposed 100th year of Marcus Garvey's birth. Ambitious and worldly in a 19th-century way, Garvey is considered to be the father of modern Black Nationalism. Through newspaper articles and speeches on Harlem's street corners, Garvey, like his successors in the second part of the 20th century, encouraged black pride and black economic independence from white America. Burning Spear's CD is a long Rasta prayer to his achievements and big dreams. Though the vocalists drift in and out of coherence as they chant about moments in Garvey's life, what the album manages to do--and what pop CDs almost never do these days--is to realize a complete concept, a total architecture. Each track communicates with other tracks to construct, in the end, a towering idea about one thing: Marcus Garvey. CHARLES MUDEDE



GREAT WHITE
(Crystal Ballroom) Can you mention Great White without mentioning the pyrotechnic fire/trampling that killed people? Is it unfair to assume Great White is touring because of the hype created from said killing/trampling? Do you think buttrock fans enjoy a little danger, and will therefore purchase tickets to this show in order to look death in the face? Considering GW is playing the Crystal, I think it's safe to say that danger is the last thing concert goers should expect. A tired version of "Once Bitten, Twice Shy" is more like it, which should describe the show to a tee. KS



JOSH WINK
(Level) Even though the name Josh Wink makes me think of some poor kid who gets beaten up in the cafeteria or shoved face-first in the sandbox, you can't blame people for their names--unless of course, they happen to be a DJ. So even though we can blame Josh for sticking with a dumb name like Josh Wink, we can't dislike a man who cuts up a tough techno/house mix that doesn't leave you floundering on the dancefloor. The cuts, instead, will send you forward, into the light. KS



RAVI SHANKAR
(Schnitzer) It is the sitar master Ravi Shankar (not that other Ravi Ravi Shankar Yoga Master Dude whose posters advertising his meditation class or whatevs have been confusing folks for months). The Real Monsieur Shankar returns with his traditionalist sitar-playing daughter, Anoushka Shankar, who is WAY, WAY cooler than his non-traditionalist daughter, Norah Jones. FYI. JS



SATURDAY 9/13

EMPYRE, SERVER X, MISS ANNE THROPE
(Conan's, 39th & Hawthorne) I like Queensryche, all right? Yeah, they're cheesy, and I wouldn't pay $30 to see them, but if "Jet City Woman" came on the radio I wouldn't turn it off, either. In fact, I'd probably sing along with as much gusto as when "Little Red Corvette" comes on, or even "Faithfully." I'm a dork. I'm not cool. I don't care about being cool either; just hot. So I'll see you other dorks at the Empyre show, where this joyous band will be covering all things Queensryche. KS



SEXY PRISON, HUX, BAD COP WORSE COP, TUNNELS
(Kingdom, 3829 NE 15th) Sexy Prisoners, behold: the Sacto duo mixes lo-fi dance beats, guitars, and screamy vocals to keep you feelin' hot hot baby this evenin'. Also, super-short shorts don't hurt. Also, Sacramento in Nu Indierock-Disco Hub Shocker? JS



THE WEAKERTHANS, THE CONSTANTINES, OLIVER
(Nocturnal) No matter how hard you try, you'll be hard pressed to find a better record released this year than The Weakerthans' new album, Reconstruction Site. The band has come a long way from their political-punk roots and their promising, yet still disappointing, previous releases. Reconstruction Site is a collection of highbrow literary references, grassroots struggles, self-defeating laments, overly optimistic love songs and the best goddamn song ever written about a cat. Joining them are The Constantines, a band riding a well-deserved wave of hype, earned by their frantic, bark-bark Joe Strummer vocals mixed well with a Fugazi/Sonic Youth blend of intelligent post-punk urgency. EAC



RICHARD MELTZER DJ SET
(Jackpot Downtown, noon) THIS IS RAD, cause Richard Meltzer has been writing about rock music for eons and probably has a giant selection and will be DJing for two hours so long as he doesn't have a booze freakout or something. Judging from his forthcoming book, Autumn Rhythm, Meltzer may possibly spin some blues-based rock music, and some blues, and some Blue Oyster Cult. JS



THE STUCK-UPS, THE NEINS, THE HIGH AND THE MIGHTY
(Twilight, 1420 SE Powell) Allow yourself the pleasure of bouncing around and pumping your fist to the hard-working high-energy punk of the Stuck-ups. Buzzy guitars and rock-simple synths drive this Seattle combo's enthusiastic onslaught. With their now-common Brit-punk affectations, The Stuck-ups might not blow your mind, but can you really afford to have it blown again? Me neither. LANCE CHESS



LOW SKIES, AUTOPILOT, NUMBERSTATION
(Stumptown, 128 SW 3rd) Low Skies has kind of a quiet, sinister, Black Heart Procession thing going. Singer Christopher Salveter goes falsetto quite a bit, which gets kind of annoying because his falsetto isn't particularly good. It sounds part Robert Smith and part Chris Cornell. Gloomy indie rockers from Chicago shouldn't sing like fruity British popsters, or fruity burnt out grungers. JWS



SUNDAY 9/14

MIXMASTER SUNDAYS STARRING DJ RECKLESS & DJ JUGGERNAUT
(Red Sea, 318 SW 3rd) The other day on his regular 95.5 spot, Los Angelean-turned-Portlander DJ Juggernaut played Christina and Lil' Kim's "Can't Hold Us Down," an exhilarating feminist treatise that addresses the double-standard conundrum inna first-wave stylee. "The guy gets all the glory the more he can score," they assert with incredulity, "While the girl can do the same and yet you call her a whore." It was the first time I'd heard it and, in one fell swoop, I realized Lil' Kim's significance as a conceptual artist, Christina's significance as a feminist role model--and DJ Juggernaut's significance as a DJ, as he seamlessly transitioned from Justy to Sean Paul to some other artists I can't recall, but remember feeling impressed. Yeah, it's 95.5, and he's supposed to play those things, but he also transitions with dancehall and old-school--perfect music for the revelation get-down. JS



THE BLACK HALOS, JET CITY FIX
(Dante's) The following answering machine message is included in a Jet City Fix song: "Hey Baby, it's me. Pick up the phone, I really want to talk to you." I can see why one might want to include such a compelling voice sampling on their CD. Stupidity aside though, there is something charming about Jet City Fix 'cause they're playing their damn balls off. The music rides the line between teen movie club scene rock and actual rock. The singer's voice is pained and gravelly and he says, "yeah," and "rock" about a thousand times while the guitarists tear it up G'N'R style with some pop punk thrown in. KS



TRACIE MORRIS, THE SENSUALISTS, OFFICIAL FISCHERSPOONER AFTERPARTY, DJ LEATHERFACE
(Machineworks, 1115 NW 15th) Time-Based Arts Fest is bringing lots of musical acts to the forefront, since music is a time-based art, too. Tonight, after electronic/hiphop poet Tracie Morris performs, The Sensualists and Belgian DJ Leatherface will regale all with sweet, sweet electronic-based music for the OFFICIAL Fischerspooner Afterparty--all Fischerspooner ticketholders get in free. And, there is a FABLED, POSSIBLE chance THEE real live Fischerspooner may whip up a little sumpin' themselves, so don't miss it! It's totally like Dada Ball Lite. JS



CANDYE KANE'S BIG BOTTOM BURLESQUE SHOW
(Duff's, 1635 SE 7th) Hubba hubba, if you like big butts and you cannot lie, this show is for you. Ex-stripper Candye Kane and her sss-assy band want to get you grindin' with a fusion of blues, rock, and retro swing. JWS



31KNOTS, ALARMIST, INVISIBLE
(Million, 116 N Russell) Three words: Eva. Motherfuckin'. Pox. The compelling Alarmist singer, who shares vocal duties with the more ebullient human cannonball that is James Squeaky, delivers like a not-bored Kim Gordon and the screamiest parts of Bj-rk; her stage presence is part-cavewoman, part banshee, and partÉ Bj-rk (but maybe that's cause both perform barefoot). Eva Pox puts forth the dangerous kind of serene we should all aspire towards; non-fake-performance-arty and totally ecstatic. It works best with some of Alarmist's more epic noisy moments, where Eric is splicing sound shards with his guitar and Nick is going nutz on the drumz and James is scratchy scream-singing like he does. Alarmist is a new band, just comin' up, but I'm pretty stoked on their jelly thus far. JS See CD Review pg 19



MONDAY 9/15

THE CURTAINS, MAHER SHALAL HASH BAZ, OLD TIME RELIJUN, GROWING
(Million) Calling San Francisco's Curtains an "experimental pop band" is sort of misleading, so I'll do my best to avoid such a degrading term. See, the ever-evolving San Francisco instrumentalists (featuring both current and former members of Deerhoof) play music that's quite definitely experimental, and also, in the vaguest sense, "pop"-referenced--but there's so much more to it than that. Their latest record--22 tracks of synthesizer hiccups, impossible rhythms, and piercing guitar--is only comfortably comparable to their sibling band--and with that as our point of reference, the Curtains are sort of like Deerhoof's less comprehensible middle brother: He may not be the cute one, but damn it if he ain't charming. EDITH WONG



VIJAY IYER & MIKE LADD
(Scottish Rite, 709 SW 15th, TBA Fest event) If you care AT ALL about post-modern jazz and hiphop composition, and their contextual/abstracted relation to race and discrimination, do not miss this performance. JS



TUESDAY 9/16

THE BLOW
(Machineworks, TBA Fest event) Khaela Maricich, aka The Blow, makes half-performance art, half-hiphop, half electronic pop, and spoken word, assertive concept-style. On her forthcoming record, The Concussive Caress, she sings a beautiful depressive mantra: "The only reason not to go fucking around/ is nothing/ nothing is the only reason not to fuck everything up/ nothing is the only thing worth keeping my feet on the ground for." JS

THE EXPLOITED, DEFIANCE, TOTAL CHAOS, SPARE LEAD

(Paris, 6 SW 3rd) One can imagine the old boys of Exploited now are now skeletal lurchers, with gray, crumbling jowls, just like the monstrous figures drawn into so much of the artwork that marks their genre. Whatever their state of disrepair, seeing them at the Paris seems like an intriguing way to spend the evening. After all, they showed us how guttural crusty punk could be expounded into a scary, epic romance, like the movie music for an army of charging orcs. Plus Defiance, who are smoking their way through town with the honest, unpretentious punk rock of dudes who would love to just fuck around, but who know too much not to be political. MARJORIE SKINNER



ATMOSPHERE [SLUG & MR. DIBBS], MICRANOTS, DEEJAY BIRD, BROTHER ALI, ODD JOBS
(Roseland) Yes, Brother Ali is an albino, overweight, lazy-eyed, Midwesterner and devout Muslim. But what's on the surface does little justice to what is one of the most gifted MCs in modern hiphop. On Shadows on the Sun, Ali doesn't play the albino Muslim card (as if there was one to be played). Instead, he lays down one damaged hiphop cut after another, from an MC who seems well-versed in pain and immense suffering. He makes the dysfunctions of labelmate/collaborator Atmosphere seem petty, as he rhymes about an attack by teenage racists who "spilled blood on his Boyz 'N the Hood 'Increase the Peace' T-shirt," or the struggles of being "allergic to the sun." Despite leaning heavily on themes of distress and emotional imbalance, Ali is overwhelmingly optimistic--most of which comes from his strict, but not preachy, religious faith and family commitment. EAC Slug, Mr. Dibbs, and Brother Ali will also do a signing in-store at 360 Vinyl, 214 NW Couch, at 3:30 pm.



WEDNESDAY 9/17

WHITE STRIPES, YEAH YEAH YEAHS
(Keller Auditorium, 222 SW Clay) These bands have reached the rock-star breaking-point, where the idea of them is almost bigger than themselves. I still think White Stripes are kinda boring, but Yeah Yeah Yeahs have that freaky tension to work with, the DT-ing sexaphors and real-time destruction of a princess-genius ne'er-do-well--destruction from too much decadence, from maintaining their reputation. YYYs singer Karen O just wants to party all the time, party all the time, party all the time. Right? JS



THE PEELS, THE GAYS, DJ MAXIMILLION
(Grand Central Bowl, 808 SE Morrison) You want fun? Rock and bowling, that's fun. The Gays play rock music with a slightly gothy meandering singer, so they won't blow you out of the place, which is important. Why? 'Cause you're working on getting a friggin' turkey. KS



DARIUSH DOLAT-SHAHI
(Newmark Theatre, 1111 SW Broadway) God bless the Time-Based Arts Festival. Another PICA TBA Fest event: Dariush Dolat-shahi shall perform minimalist and electronic sounds combined with traditional Asian and Latin American musics on the setar and tar, which are Persian lutes, and for which Monsieur Dolat-shahi has a doctorate to compose. And you thought bhangra was blowing up. JS

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