PEARL JAM, MUDHONEY
(Moda Center, 1 Center Ct) Read our Debate Club on Pearl Jam.
BLITZEN TRAPPER, ALIALUJAH CHOIR
(Doug Fir, 830 E Burnside) Read our article on Blitzen Trapper.
TYPHOON, WILD ONES, LAKE
(Crystal Ballroom, 1332 W Burnside) No two ways about it: The release of this year's White Lighter was in every way a triumph for Portland conglomerate Typhoon. Frontman Kyle Morton's obsessions with mortality are given sweeping, gorgeous arrangements that explode with vibrant horns, delicate acoustic guitars, loud gang vocals, and ambitious orchestration. It's the kind of record so affecting as to place itself immediately among the best Portland releases of the year. After a couple of reportedly breathtaking MusicfestNW performances a few months ago in the cozy confines of the Old Church, Typhoon docks into the cavernous Crystal Ballroom headlining a raucous evening of all-Northwest collectives. RYAN J. PRADO
CAT POWER, NICO TURNER
(Hawthorne Theatre, 1507 SE César E. Chávez) Chan Marshall of Cat Power has a knack for ripping into your insides with songwriting that inspires a sad drive in the pouring rain, quietly sobbing all the while. She's bringing those deep feelings and musical reelings to Puddletown for a stop on the continuing tour of her newest album, Sun. COURTNEY FERGUSON
LORD DYING, ANCIIENTS, NETHER REGIONS, SIOUX
(Analog Café, 720 SE Hawthorne) Friday night at the Analog Cafe, before local heroes Lord Dying bludgeon your skull with some stoney sludge, take flight over the verdant Cascadian landscape with Anciients. The Vancouver, BC, quartet's combo of heavy prog and soaring pop-metal is both impressive and accessible; their debut album Heart of Oak is a dizzying display of technical chops—zigzag rhythms, skyscraping guitar solos, harmonies galore—and powerful, primal riffs and growls. It's like listening to Mastodon find its footing on their debut album, Remission, and you know what happened next with them. If this all sounds appealing, don't skip this show, because it would surprise exactly no one if Anciients headline much bigger rooms in a year or two. BEN SALMON
MOON MIRROR, VIRGIN BLOOD
(The Lovecraft, 421 SE Grand) Cosplay will be in full effect for both audience and performers at tonight's Lovecraft gathering. Moon Mirror has manifested her ephemeral, anime-caricature social media presence into a stage persona that's part Sailor Moon, part Enya—a one-woman siren of the cosmos. Her latest album on the Aural Sects label, Transference, is a fantastical domain of upbeat synth-pop, with dynamic arpeggios and drum machines beating bewitching dance grooves. The darkly emotive Virgin Blood's heavy synth drones backdrop loftily romantic vocals that are eerily evocative of the late Trish Keenan from Broadcast. Expect a wide range of emojis for this free showcase of Portland's new-age beatific songcraft. WYATT SCHAFFNER
THE CAVE SINGERS, POLLENS
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) Borrowing from African trance and choral music, Pollens take six voices and stack, blend, layer, split, and roll them into sneaky arrangements. Those delicate layers are accompanied by sparse instrumentation that plucks inspiration from the Near East, while also dabbling in prog-rock, folk, and jazz. Somehow, none of it sounds piecemeal or out of place. They open for fellow Seattleites the Cave Singers, whose latest, Naomi, finds the rockers-turned-folkies moving a little further away from the front-porch stomp of previous records and into lusher, more dynamic sounds. The Cave Singers also welcomed Fleet Foxes bassist Morgan Henderson into the fold, who recorded Pollens' debut EP back in 2011. MATTHEW W. SULLIVAN
THE DICKIES, THE MEAN JEANS, THE DECLINERS, RUFF HAUSEN
(Tonic Lounge, 3100 NE Sandy) The Dickies have been blasting brain-dead party punk since the very beginning. Popping off as LA's cross-eyed answer to the Ramones, the gleeful idiots put out stacks of records, every song a cheeky single, and in their wake inspired a generation of scruffy punks like Screeching Weasel, Green Day, and NOFX. Around the turn of the millennium, the Dickies mostly curtailed new releases, and shows are becoming more sporadic. Since forming in that fateful year of 1977 they've had 19 different members, four of whom have died, some while partying. Still, the remaining Dickies know there's one thing punks never do: stop partying. It's a lesson that local macaronis the Mean Jeans have taken straight to the dome. It's wild, really, the legacy of this lineup. The kids will be rocking this shit when granddad and his buds show up after slamming 50 beers, axes in hand, ready to shred. ANDREW R TONRY