RED FANG, BISON, DRUNK DAD
(Wonder Ballroom, 128 NE Russell) After you spend Thursday returning the shitty gifts you got on Wednesday, throw that extra scratch down on the bar for an irresponsible number of PBRs at the Wonder Ballroom tonight. You earned it. (Tecate is also acceptable.) And since Red Fang's playing, you'll probably see just as many cans onstage. The hometown sludge-metal heroes recently unveiled their latest music video, featuring Portlandia/Saturday Night Live star Fred Armisen and a city rife with zombies who've forsaken flesh for the sweet taste of PBRs (and Tecate). The video is for the hook-heavy and badass "Blood Like Cream," which isn't even close to being the best song from this year's tremendous-sounding Whales and Leeches. MATTHEW W. SULLIVAN
RAW NERVES, BROKEN WATER, RECESSIONS
(The Know, 2026 NE Alberta) I'm listening to Portland hardcore punk band Raw Nerves' Futile Efforts right now and am filled with inexplicable embarrassment for myself. On one hand, I really don't feel like this is me; I'm not cool enough to be listening to (or enjoying) this. I'm no beefcake, and abstrusely political lyrics may very well be my least favorite hardcore trope. But Raw Nerves are, musically, simply one of the best active punk bands in Portland right now. The band constantly toes the line between cheesy, half-ironic barbecue metal (the pick-slides; pretty much every performance from vocalist Mike Dubose) and underplayed sophistication and sensitivity ("Feudal Efforts," "Armageddon"). Like most purveyors of the genre, Raw Nerves are even more compelling live. So go see them. They rock! MORGAN TROPER
JERRY JOSEPH AND THE JACKMORMONS, I CAN LICK ANY SONOFABITCH IN THE HOUSE
(Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi) I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch in the House's Michael Dean Damron recently turned 50, celebrating with a raucous perform-
ance at the band's adopted headquarters, Dante's. Aside from that personal milestone for Damron—a guy whose imposing physical stature and pissed-off oeuvre belies his sentimentality as a songwriter—ICLASOB reached what was probably the pinnacle of their country-punk output with their most recent release, Mayberry. Whether reminiscing about nostalgic television shows or railing against Fred Phelps, the government, shitty people, and anything else that crosses his mind, Damron's affinity for the periphery of pop culture makes the band's songs some of the more earnest you're likely to hear. RYAN J. PRADO
LUCK AND LANA, GRAPE GOD, ANECHOIC, NORTHERN DRAW
(Slabtown, 1033 NW 16th) If you know your strains of weed (and if you're a Mercury reader, I have to assume that you do), you'll recognize the name Grape God as a particularly THC-heavy strain of smoke. That should give you some small insight into the sound of Gabriel Owsley's same-named hiphop project. His latest release 444 is a throat-stinging montage of molasses-thick beats and Owsley's trudging enunciation. He'll provide a nice slow smolder that will be quickly turned into a raging bonfire by Luck & Lana, an LA-based duo that finds MC Luckyiam from the vaunted Living Legends crew and chanteuse Lana Shea fighting for vocal supremacy over a spray of electro beats and dubstep wobble. ROBERT HAM
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