SIGUR RÓS, JULIA HOLTER
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) Read our article on Sigur Ros.
INTO THE WOODS QUARTERLY: AAN, PURE BATHING CULTURE, WL, SHY GIRLS, DJ ZACK, DJ SISTER SISTER
(Holocene, 1001 SE Morrison) The ever-hustling documentary crew at Into the Woods coordinates a quarterly series showcasing their favorite artists in town. They're bringing a few cameras to catch the whole thing on film as Aan, Pure Bathing Culture, and WL play. This is where tastes are made. ALISON HALLETT
ASSEMBLY OF LIGHT CHOIR, THE BODY, BRAVEYOUNG, SIOUX
(Plan B, 1305 SE 8th) Loud, abrasive metal has gone and done it again. The Body, a two-piece droney-noisy-doomey outfit from Providence who recently relocated to Portland, pushed the boundaries with their art and caught the ears of a few squares at NPR and the New York Times. Their recent release, All The Waters of the Earth Turn To Blood, features the talents of the Assembly of Light, an all-female choir that also hails from Providence. The Body's harsh riffs and panicked, shrill vocals blending with the beautiful belting of more than a dozen ladies is indeed haunting, so it's no wonder it perked some unlikely ears. Heavy music is no stranger to choirs and classical arrangements, but there's never been a collaboration this frightening before. It's a unique, fascinating meld that sends chills up your spine while it punches you in the stomach. ARIS WALES
SHONEN KNIFE, THE MALLARD, OH DARLING
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Let's face it: Kurt Cobain was an iconoclast who celebrated the odd and glorified technical incompetence (a lot like Frank Zappa actually, who could be considered Cobain's antecedent in that sense). It's not an exaggeration to say that without him, my generation generally would not know or care about Daniel Johnston or the Raincoats. Among the misfits Cobain revered are the Japanese pop-punk band Shonen Knife, who happen to be my personal favorite of his personal favorites. The band's latest, and 18th, record, Pop Tune, is more of the glorious same: awful musicianship and exceptional pop sensibilities (the title track might be the best—oh Christ, here it comes—pop tune I've heard all summer). If you don't like it, you just don't understand it. MORGAN TROPER
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