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Thursday, Friday and Saturday had Nike-sponsored all ages shows at the Wonder Ballroom, shows that happened earlier in the day (five-thirty as opposed to nine or ten), I suppose so high schoolers could go to the show, rock out, and be home in time for homework.  A bit of backstory: Paul and I both purchased VIP wristbands, instead of regular ones.  It cost us $100 more, but it was well worth it, as you’ll read about in tomorrow’s blog.  One of the perks of having a VIP wristband was that you got immediate access into the venue; in other words, you didn’t have to wait in line.  While this was super sweet, the Wonder shows did not follow this rule.  So even if you had a wristband, you still had to wait in line.  Since Paul and I had to work until 5:00, we couldn’t get to the show in time, especially because the lines to the Wonder shows are always PACKED.  By the time we would get there, the line would be full of young teenaged hipsters trying outlandish new fashions, ushering in a new age of Annie Hall hats and vests, ridiculously skinny jeans, and Converse. Oh god the Converse. (more…)

If I were a real writer, stealing literature riffs from Hunter S. Thompson or George Plimpton, I might make some grand thesis-esque statement for my first paragraph about Musicfest NW, something about the welcoming atmosphere of the Portland music scene for this one glorious weekend in September, maybe a little bit about myself and my love of music yet continual need to branch out, to listen to more, to find yet another band that I love.  I might hearken back to my childhood, relating stories of listening to my father’s americana/country band practicing in our basement, or the time my dad walked in on me singing “Hakuna Matata” at the top of my lungs in my bedroom[1. I swear I’m not gay.].

But this is Musicfest, not the fucking Beatles, and this is a blog, not some goddamn Rolling Stones feature. So let’s get into it. (more…)

I guess the big news is that Paul and I are not going to see Modest Mouse tonight. The reasons are twofold for me: 1, I am le tired. The past four nights have been a bit whirlwind, and for some reason spending four hours (or however long) in one location, the somewhat dismal Crystal Ballroom, is strangely anticlimactic. Friday and Saturday were great nights, and while I enjoy Mimicking Birds and Modest Mouse to a certain extent, I don’t enjoy them enough to go see them tonight. That’s just how it’s going to be.

(Tangent: I’ve found myself, since the huge upswing in Twitter recently, putting only one space after a period rather than two, which is how I’ve been taught since I was taught English. I … I’m not sure how to feel about this. It’s a vital necessity when writing tweets, but this is a blog, a safe haven for proper grammar and syntax[1. Well, sorta.]. A place where the tried and true imprints of the hodge-podge English language are given their proper room to breathe, to exist, to push against the bones of a healthy and well-maintained ribcage. I would go back and edit an extra space in between all of these sentences but … eh, fuck it.)

So I’ll begin writing the MFNW reviews tomorrow. Hm, writing it like that sounds a bit pretentious, as if I’m expecting you all to glean some kind of hip Portland cool from me merely by my typing words on an electronic page. The truth is, I stand out like a sore thumb at these events: tall, awkward, long red hair, unironic eyeglasses[2. Real ones, that have stupid black duct tape on the ends to keep them from falling apart.], a childlike sense of awe when watching bands, taking utterly shitty photos with my cell phone camera … etc etc. When I walked into Berbati’s to see the Long Winters on Friday night it was like walking into a surprise birthday party, and John Roderick was, figuratively, the icing on the cake. I was rocking out in my own little world, found myself remembering lyrics to songs I hadn’t heard in quite a while, and generally just looking like a dork. Ah well, this is the weight of my silly little life, I guess.

Anyway, I will also be making a playlist of Musicfest bands, including songs that you definitely have never heard of, from bands you probably haven’t heard of, like Monarques, a band that we just missed play at Rontoms, but whose EP, which they gave away for free, is pretty fucking great.

Truth be told, there was only one band the entire weekend that I didn’t enjoy, and I will tell you who that is later.

So yeah, a mix that you can download and enjoy, hopefully as much as I do!

And now, sadly … back to the real world.  At least I have some new music for it.

In a couple of hours I’m going to be seeing Viva Voce at some VIP party thing, but I want to write a little update before I nom nom on some Burgerville and proceed to rock out yet again.

First off, if you aren’t following me on Twitter and want to hear me geek out on a more live basis, I suggest you do so.  I’ve been taking the Worst Photos Ever with my cameraphone[1. I need to get a BlackBerry, srsly.] and posting them on TwitPic, as well as short bursts of textual energy, such as “THERMALS FUCKKKKK YEAH,” etc.

Anyway, long story short, last night was the best night of MFNW and probably will be the best night MFNW.  All four bands that I saw were awesome, and the sushi that I ate beforehand was awesome, and the nap I took after work but before the shows was awesome. Everything = awesome.

Seeing the Long Winters play again was especially spectacular. John Roderick has long hair and a mustache and a missing front tooth.  He’s great.  The band was as tight and energetic as ever, and the between songs banter was hilarious. For some stupid reason Berbati’s wasn’t as packed as it should be — I blame it on John’s lack of releasing an album or touring for the past year or so. That’s okay though, cause the ones who were there were pretty hardcore fans.

I shouldn’t go into details because I’m going to do that after MFNW. You all should check out the Prids, Explode into Colors[2. Dear girl who plays the melodica: marry me? Love, Josh.], The Long Fucking Winters, and, of course, the Thermals, who played a VIP after party at BodyVox dance studio, with a big long rehearsal mirror behind them, effectively rocking all of our testicles off.  Yes, even the ladies.  The ladies grew testicles and then they fell off, it was so rocking.  We’re all eunuchs now.

Briefly:

Wednesday
There’s only one lineup, and that is — Fences, Portland Cello Project, Damian Juardo, and Will Scheff (of Okkervil River) @ Wonder Ballroom.  I am excited about all of this.

Thursday
Dr. Dog & Helio Sequence @ Wonder
Either Cymbals Eat Guitars @ Doug Fir or Tu Fawning @ Berbati’s.  Probably the latter cause it will make us closer to
The Twilight Sad & Frightened Rabbits @ Dante’s!  TWILIGHT SAD!

Friday
Arctic Monkeys @ Wonder
Something, not sure yet
M64 @ Jimmy Mak’s
Explode into Colors @ Holocene
THE LONG WINTERS! @ Berbati’s.  YAAAAY NEANDERTHAL JOHN RODERICK!

Saturday
Lots of bands playing 30 minute sets at Rontoms
Saturday is kind of iffy.
World’s Greatest Ghosts @ Backspace
Brunettes @ Berbati’s
probly Ava Buffalo @ Berbati’s
Point Juncture, WA @ Mississippi Studios
Church & Finn Riggins @ East End

Sunday
Sunday has only one lineup, with Morning Teleportation, Mimicking Birds, Love as Laughter, and Modest Mouse as headliners. Dunno how into them I’m going to be, but Mimicking Birds is playing and I’ve really come to love the free CD-R I snagged at their MFNW show last year.

All in all, a crazy time, and lots of fun.

Take a deep breath folks, have a seat, bring a glass of wine, because this is going to be a big one.

Before I begin, you have prerequisite reading: The Empty Spaces, or, How Theatre Failed America, an essay from the Seattle Stranger by Mike Daisey.  You must read this before you continue.  Don’t worry, I can wait.

…

Ready?  Okay. (more…)

This weekend marks one year since I moved to Portland.  To some people that might seem arbitrary, trivial even, but to a guy who lived in one place his entire life, it’s pretty big news. (more…)

Boise State University has recently implemented a “smoke-free” campuswide policy, meaning that no one can smoke on campus, anywhere.  This is a Stupid Idea.  Not only because it infringes on personal liberties, but also because it enforces ideas that are Dumb, such as the idea that you are going to inhale secondhand smoke outside.  The only time this happens is if you are sitting next to someone who is smoking, and the smoke blows in your face because of the wind. Period.  Standing ten, five, hell, even three feet away from a smoker will not make you inhale secondhand smoke.  And even if you did, there’s this ludicrous idea that just a little bit of smoke will cause terminal lung cancer or something.  Grow up, people.  Lung tissue rebuilds, cleans itself.  A smoker who quits will have healthy lung tissue in about seven years.  Yes, a doctor said this to my father, who had been smoking for the past forty years.

Of course, I’m not a proponent of smoking — it nearly killed my father.  But I am a proponent of civil liberties, and the concept of being able to do whatever you want with your bodies, so long as it harms no one else (without their consent; if you want to be harmed, you’d better say so first).  Smoking only harms other people when it’s inside a building.  That I think we can all agree on.  The smoke accumulates and after a while we’re all smoking what you’re smoking.  But outside, there’s this wonderful device called Wind, which picks up the smoke and pushes it away from you.  Or, if it pushes it toward you, there’s another device called Legs, which carry you to a location where the smoke is not.  Crazy, but it works.

But no, Boise State had to buckle under the pressure of whatever hoity toity North End millionaires decided that smoking is bad, mmkay.  After the jump is an article from the Arbiter, the BSU newspaper; a Q&A about the smoking ban.  I’ve included some comments in the quotes themselves; they are in [brackets]. (more…)

I very rarely remember my dreams, aside from trivial details, like dreams wherein I can’t find the remote control for the TV.  This dream, however, actually lasted a while and was pretty funny.  So, as an homage to Todd’s blog o’ dreams, here’s mine.  It, surprisingly, involves the Decemberists[1. No sarcasm there — despite my /orate friends dreaming about the D’s to a great extent, I think this is the second dream I’ve had about them, and the first in such detail.].

So I’m at a D’s concert, obviously, in a big, wide outdoor arena.  I was with friends, but I don’t remember who they were.  We got front row but way left, all the way to the edge. Yet, Colin was still somewhat center of me. Oh well.

They come out, people cheer. They start to play Hazards, but the song is all gibberish (in my head). Somehow my POV switches to a person’s video camera, which Colin has noticed and begins to sing to. It’s kind of fisheye-y.  As he sings, you can see he’s a little out of it, and he starts forgetting lyrics.  Then, out of the blue, he stops playing.  The whole band stops.  He says, “I’m sorry, but something’s not right” to the audience, then he and the other D’s proceed to pull Jenny’s organ station and Moen’s drums closer to the stage, basically putting the whole thing closer to the audience.  We erupt in cheers.

Then they start playing a really, really weird, psychedelic version of Hazards.  Everyone’s like, cool, but it’s barely audible through the speakers. So everyone starts shouting, “Turn it up!” and pointing their index fingers to the sky[2. In much the same way musicians do to the sound guy — point to a monitor, then point up.]. There might’ve been booing involved, I don’t remember; what I do remember is Nate Query throwing his bass down, doing one of those loud whistles where you put your fingers in the corners of your mouth, and shouting, “You know what? FUCK YOU” and then leaving the stage.  I remember him wearing a weird black barbershop quartet hat, but it was black and had a lot of shiny jangly jangles on it — something, I assume, John Popper would wear.  Anyway, the rest of the band follows him offstage.

At this point I’m confused.  I turn and notice that my friends — and mostly everyone else — has left, marching in a giant swarm of humanoids towards the ticket office to demand a refund.  I hurry after them.  But about halfway there, I turn and look at the stage — and notice the D’s going back onstage and grabbing their instruments to play.  So I shout, “Looks like they’re coming back!” and suddenly there’s a stampede as everyone rushes back to the stage.  I’m running my ass off, thinking I’m gonna lose my sweet spot!

As I’m running I pass by a giant, gnarled foot, draped in a blue and yellow sundress (flowery pattern, I think) down to the ankle. I’m supposing this belonged to some giant woman, but I can’t confirm this because my alarm clock went off and woke me up.  And that’s my dream.

I really feel the need to write this entry not because the show was phenomenal (which it was), but more to spotlight The Woods, the new musical venue in Sellwood.  It is, in a word, great.  It used to be a funeral parlor for chrissakes!  Imagine if the Fisher family decided to hold rock shows in their viewing room — THAT’S what the Woods is like.  Unfortunately I didn’t think to take pictures of the place while I was there, but their website has some good pics, so check it out.  And if you live in the area, go see a show there!  Support that place, because it rocks. (more…)