REDD KROSS, DANTE VS. ZOMBIES, THE SUICIDE NOTES, THE NEEDFUL LONGINGS
(Dante's, 1 SW 3rd) Read our article on Redd Kross.
MOONFACE, SAD BABY WOLF, KISHI BASHI, THE LAST BISON, THE WE SHARED MILK
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Read our article on Kishi Bashi.
(Sleep Country Amphitheater, 17200 NE Delfel, Ridgefield, WA) The pairing of Blondie and Devo fills my heart with warm, fresh-baked-cookie happythoughts. I defy you to think of two bands you'd rather see bopping their way through their back catalogs than Debbie Harry & Co. and the jumpsuit-wearing weirdoes of Devo. Hah! You can't. COURTNEY FERGUSON
OREGON SYMPHONY, COLIN CURRIE
(Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, 1037 SW Broadway) The Oregon Symphony's first classical concert of the 2012/13 season rightfully deserves an exhaustive six-page spread, but the fucking idgits who run this craptastic "newspaper" wouldn't know culture if it bit them on their skinny-jeaned douchetard asses. So here's a preview that even the PBR-addled brain of a Mercury music editor can comprehend: Finnish up front and Italian on the back end, Saturday's program features several epic hits penned by Jean Sibelius and Ottorino Respighi. As if that weren't kick-ass enough, the symphony once again exceeds expectations by sharing the stage with an internationally renowned soloist. Colin Currie is percussion royalty, and he'll be jamming on a five-octave marimba, a metal vibraphone, and a panoply of exotic instruments, showcasing a super fresh composition written especially for him. Unless you've already made plans to hear (yet another) whiny trustafarian strum his way through a setlist of half-assed introspective shit, do yourself a favor and put down this wretched rag, order some symphony tickets, and experience what it's like to have your mind blown by 70-plus musicians of the highest caliber. ANGRY SYMPHONY GUY
MY MORNING JACKET, SHABAZZ PALACES
(Edgefield, 2126 SW Halsey, Troutdale) With Edgefield's sprawling lawn, flowing kegs, and starry skies, My Morning Jacket's live show promises dusty, psychedelic rock 'n' roll gallops alongside the softer, falsetto repertoires of frontman Jim James. I can't imagine a more perfect setting to hear the Louisville, Kentucky, band—their guitars will blanket your picnic with ghostly abandon, while James' dramatic voice curls through the night air like his famous mane. Still touring on their 2011 album Circuital, the band has been taking requests for each night's setlist, so if you have a hankering to hear some old favorites from The Tennessee Fire or that skankin'-tinged number from Z, tweet it hard and loud. Personally, I'm hashtagging the hell out of "Knot Comes Loose." Earlier in the day, MMJ play for the tykes at Kennedy School's You Who kids show. CF
YOU WHO: MY MORNING JACKET
(Kennedy School, 5736 NE 33rd) See above listing.
GIRL TALK, STARFUCKER, AU
(Pioneer Courthouse Square, 701 SW 6th) Mashup king Gregg Gillis (AKA Girl Talk) headlines a show tailor-made for folks who don't give a shit whether their music is highbrow or low just so long as it's danceable. It'll be interesting to see if Gillis' laptop can fill up an entire city block. Even more interesting, though, are Starfucker, whose weird, spacey pop songs are made instantly catchy by Shawn Glassford's bass. But certainly the most exhilarating band are the guys who play first. You can try to dance to AU, but if you're paying any kind of attention, you'll likely be too busy picking your chin up off the floor. In their latest incarnation, for the album Both Lights, AU play folk music on Adderall—frenetically paced, gorgeously layered, and constantly surprising. REBECCA WILSON
TYPHOON, HOLCOMBE WALLER, AND AND AND
(Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie) At Pickathon, the many-tentacled Typhoon played some of the new material they recorded earlier this year at Pendarvis Farm. It's as good as what's come before, which is to say it's very fucking good indeed. The sheer logistics of this band, whose ranks swell into the double digits, have me completely mystified (particularly when it seems most three-piece bands can barely keep a consistent lineup for more than a few months). But what's more mystifying, and delightful, is how Typhoon continually, consistently makes heart-stoppingly great music that ranges from quiet folk to near-orchestral bombast. This local Portland band is also an excellent, world-class act. We're damn fortunate. NED LANNAMANN
SWANS, XIU XIU
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE 39th) Michael Gira resurrected Swans two years ago, in the process redefining yet again a band that had already done its fair share of shape-shifting. The Seer might be Swans' most intense and most primal work to date. Songs wander for what seems like an eternity (the title track clocks in at 30 minutes, and there are two others in the 20-minute range). This should make for an equally intense, equally sprawling live set. Simply put: You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll drink, you'll think yourself insane, you'll sleep it off, and you'll want to do it again. MARK LORE
HAZEL, DIRTCLODFIGHT, SNOWBUD AND THE FLOWER PEOPLE, PETE KREBS
(Star Theater, 13 NW 6th) The legendary Hazel is an authentic taste of the old Portland rock scene. Formed back in 1992 and mostly defunct since '97, its members read like a who's-who list of bygone-era indie rockers. It's no surprise that people still get really excited over their music 20 years later. Hazel's live shows have been classified by super fans as very precise and high energy with a sound that cleverly mixes a little bit of pop with lot of grunge. Fred Nemo adds an element of performance art by dancing onstage, creating an air of chaos and edginess. Catch them in a rare reunion performance. CHRISTINA BROUSSARD
DINOSAUR JR, SEBADOH, J MASCIS
(Roseland, 8 NW 6th) The upcoming I Bet on Sky is the 10th Dinosaur Jr. album, and it continues their second-phase streak of surprisingly terrific work, which began in 2007 when the original three members of the group got back together. Bucking the cash-in reunion trend, Dinosaur Jr. sounds as vital and mammoth as they did in their heyday, and their thundering guitar-driven rock has aged beautifully. This bill is all Dino from start to finish, too—Lou Barlow's Sebadoh and J. Mascis do turns as opening acts. NL
JULIA HOLTER, PURE BATHING CULTURE
(The Old Church, 1422 SW 11th) Julia Holter is one of few artists who successfully transform trends. Sharing the dance-y tonality of the likes of Grimes and the childlike sounds of Youth Lagoon, Holter manages to create something unique. 2012's Ekstasis channels previous recordings, but with a much more mature and developed voice. Full instrumentals, samples, and her haunting voice keep you aching for more in an album that ebbs and flows with ease. Local band Pure Bathing Culture opens with satisfying and sugar-sweet dream pop. ZIBBY PILOTTE
WILD NOTHING, THE SOFT MOON, DIIV, MAC DEMARCO
(Ted's Berbati's Pan, 231 SW Ankeny) Beach Fossils' Zachary Cole Smith has put something worthwhile together with his new project DIIV (nÉ Dive, after the Nirvana track). Expanded to a four-piece that includes Smith Westerns drummer Colby Hewitt, DIIV makes dreamy, swoony guitar pop, thick with shoegaze-y reverb and C86 sparkle. DIIV's debut full-length Oshin is strangely malleable to the listener's mood; it's equal parts joy and melancholy, and sounds just right in both the bright light of day and in the dark wee hours. NL
THE HIVES, FIDLAR
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) The first time anyone sees the Hives on stage is like the first time anyone sees a solar eclipse. Everything is black and white, for the most part symmetrical, and there's definitely an alien kind of familiarity. When it's done right, the Hives are one of the best live bands you'll ever see. You either feel like you've seen them before, or just wish you had. These oddly classic facets of flashy punk and ruse-ready garage-rock have slingshotted these five Swedes beyond the flash-in-the-pan garage-rock explosion of the early '00s. Their new LP, Lex Hives, is a reminder of the relevance of a group whose tongue-in-cheek professionalism is secondary to their jangly garage-pop chops. RYAN J. PRADO
THE TALLEST MAN ON EARTH, STRAND OF OAKS
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) On his third album, There's No Leaving Now, the Tallest Man on Earth—the alter ego of not-especially-tall Swedish singer/songwriter Kristian Matsson—dabbled in overdubs, augmenting his simply strummed acoustic songs with electric guitars and keyboards. The result is largely unobtrusive for fans of Matsson's unadorned guitar-and-voice arrangements, leaving alone the simplicity of his heartfelt Dylanisms. Even if the feeling is that There's No Leaving Now doesn't quite capitalize on the promise of Matsson's often magnificent work—he has yet to deliver an album that's flawless from start to finish—he's in full command of one of the most powerful one-man shows around. Hopefully the intimacy won't be lost as he plays his biggest Portland venue to date. NL
NW HIPHOP FEST: COOL NUTZ, BIG BANG, KIMOSABE, KINETIC EMCEES, RISKY STAR, BROWN CAESAR, J. RITZ & SAYWORDS, ROSE BENT, & MORE
(Ash Street Saloon, 225 SW Ash) Although it doesn't get as much shine as some other regions, the Northwest does indeed have a fertile hiphop community if you dig deep enough. Anthony Sanchez of Runaway Productions recognizes this, and he created a festival that spans three evenings (Thursday at Ash Street, Friday at Kelly's Olympian, and tonight at Ash Street again) and showcases a crazy assortment of local acts. All told, it truly runs the gamut. You can expect styles more street than asphalt alongside bars more abstract than Q-Tip's dreams. Tonight's fest-closing showcase culminates with Cool Nutz, whose latest release, Portland Ni%#a, is an epic, controversial auditory testimonial that transcends so-called "local hiphop." Big Bang is a super-fun bananas-bonkers crew that will blow your mind live. Arrive early. RYAN FEIGH
THE WORLD RADIANT, BEAR FEET, THE GHOST EASE
(Kelly's Olympian, 426 SW Washington) In spite of their relative anonymity, Bear Feet have actually been pumping out folk jams since the beginning of 2009, when the group's principal members, Elena Hess and Taylor Schultz, were still attending high school. The duo's eponymous EP is only available on Myspace, but I promise it's worth the voyage (although the Mercury isn't liable for any computer crashing that might result therein). Animated songwriting and seriously good singing (those harmonies could redden the Kingston Trio's cheeks!) set Bear Feet apart from the countless inert, tasteless purveyors of the genre. I'm frankly hesitant to give anything that calls itself "folk" a chance these days, as should you be, but this stuff goes down like sugar. MORGAN TROPER
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