(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) Die Antwoord may be (a lot) more art project than authentic Zef—the South African trashy-chic scene around which they fashion their outfits, music, and personas—but that has no bearing on the facts that (A) everyone wants Yo-Landi to be their life partner and (B) this show is gonna be ridiculously fun. MARJORIE SKINNER
LOVERS, THIRD SEX
THE FIX: BILAL, REV. SHINES, DJ KEZ, DUNDIGGY
The Ascetic Junkies, Monotonix, and Holy Fuck, as well as a link to the complete show listings, after the jump.
THE ASCETIC JUNKIES
(Music Millennium, 3158 E Burnside) There are plenty of bands where lyrics aren't all that central to the music, but the Ascetic Junkies aren't one of those bands. They even have a page at songmeanings.net—remember that site?—and their repertoire is perfectly Portland in many ways, largely delivered in sweet, earnest conversational lyrics from vocalists Matt Harmon and Kali Giarritta, who spin plaintive appeals to lovers, friends, and the powers that be. Tonight marks the release of their latest collection, This Cage Has No Bottom, 12 numbers with such straightforward titles as "God/Devil/Gov't" and "(Don't) Panic." This Cage has the feeling of a modern life put to song, hymns made for and among good friends doing their best in the here and now. It makes sense that folks would want to know what the Ascetic Junkies are saying, and perhaps tonight they'll even sing along. MARANDA BISH
MONOTONIX, TY SEGALL, O BRUXO
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) At Tube, Monotonix perched on the bar while mixing cocktails in their tighty-whiteys and kissing stunned and mortified jocks on the mouth. They graduated to Satyricon, twice turning the room into a rabid tornado of sweat, trash, and bodies before taking to the streets, drums blazing atop the shoulders of wide-eyed fans while singer Ami Shalev climbed a tree, dangled his balls from his short-shorts and stuck the microphone up his butt. They even got people feeling it back in the balcony of a sold-out Roseland. But indeed, the three half-naked, hairy-chested, soaking-wet radical rock gypsies from Tel Aviv are better the closer one dares to tread into the eye of their inclusive storm of major-scale shredding, propulsive beats, and feats of extreme physical danger. Few live shows are such a tangible whirlwind of life-affirming force. No matter your current state of affairs, you'll leave Monotonix feeling born again. (And covered with the sweat of strangers.) ANDREW R TONRY
HOLY FUCK, INDIAN JEWELRY, CLIPPED BEAKS
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) I am a fan of the title of Holy Fuck's latest album, Latin, referring as it does to an ancient tongue when the language of their soundscape is so definitively modern. The quartet of talented Canadians have brought experimental instrumentation to the indie-rock masses, creating music that is explosive, tight knit, and hypnotic in its cohesion and coordination. In a live show that has been heralded by bloggers, festival organizers, and Lou Reed alike, the four create what seems like sheer chaos with their individual instruments. The communal energy that emerges is spellbinding, often leaving the crowd with nothing to do but jump up and down. While their albums are impeccably recorded, they never sound like sterile studio productions, perhaps because they're not; Latin was recorded in a barn in rural Ontario. Yeah, not your average cutting-edge musical innovators. MARANDA BISH
Complete show listings can be viewed here.
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