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Wonderful Words

Your new favorite band

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From Words to Blows: Your favorite band in six months—trust me.

Just a hastily scribbled note about last night’s a-rock-a-lyptic show at Plan B. I was floored by From Words to Blows, the new band fronted by longtime Portland sideman—and jolly good fellow—Jesse Emerson (Amelia, Flatirons), augmented by the beguiling Susannah Weaver (she who is known as Little Sue) on bass and support vocals, and by rad keyboardist Jenny Conlee who earns her primary paycheck with those wacky Decemberists.

I blogged about them last June at their first show (sans Conlee) and was duly impressed. But last night’s performance was jaw-dropping. I honestly can’t remember being that absorbed by a band (local or touring) in a long, long time. What I appreciate the most about From Words to Blows is its inventiveness; the ability to pull surprises out of a well-worn rock ‘n’ roll hat. Emerson has kind of a downbeat, blue-collar glam persona, like David Bowie slumming with a bar band. Weaver’s harmony vocals are sweetly doomed country, while Conlee’s organ fills add a ’70s hot-buttered soul groove that covers everything like syrup on a short stack. And amazingly enough, all these elements snap together with Lego efficiency into something truly heroic. I was hanging on every note.

The show was free and there were only about 25 people present at Plan B, the amiable punk rock bar located smack-dab in the middle of the inner Southeast industrial hub. A damn shame. I hope you all enjoyed a killer episode of Project Runway, because this was a night I won’t soon forget.

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Tags: Night Life, band

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Dirty Water Dudes

Standells celebrate at East End

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Could it be a coincidence? In my experience there’s no such animal. Last weekend’s e. coli scare, meet this weekend’s “Dirty Water”.

Ultra-groovy rock club the East End is celebrating its second anniversary all week, culminating with a Saturday night concert starring the Standells. This ‘60s combo is best known for its hit, “Dirty Water,” which has become a Boston Red Sox anthem (despite the band being from Los Angeles), but they’ve got a ton of killer tunes including “Sometimes Good Guys Don’t Wear White” and the little ditty featured below, which was the title track to one of the greatest films of the 20th century.

Full disclosure: My band, Mr. Howl, is on the bill, but we’re merely the chips and salsa before the coming of the big enchilada.

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Tags: Night Life, band

Rock the Clubs

Go-Go Garagefest

Scion event draws a crowd

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Photo: Cammie Toloui

The trick to navigating Garagefest was planning your itinerary down to the minute.

View Slideshow » Photo: Cammie Toloui

The trick to navigating Garagefest was planning your itinerary down to the minute.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

The line at Berbati’s Pan was long all day. Soon, event staff would only let a person in if someone left the club.

View Slideshow » Photo: Cammie Toloui

Live from Scion Garagefest: The Dirtbombs took the stage with two hammering drummers, adding a thunderous backbone to their rip-roaring attack.

View Slideshow » Photo: Cammie Toloui

Live from Scion Garagefest: Many of the concertgoers I spoke with proclaimed the Dirtbombs to be the best band at the fest. I would not disagree. Guitarist-singer Mick Collins absolutely scorched from beginning to end.

View Slideshow » Photo: Cammie Toloui

Perhaps taking a cue from Monotonix, one of the Dirtbombs’ drummers moved his kit down to the floor toward the end of their set.

View Slideshow » Photo: Cammie Toloui

Trying to keep the hyperactive Mick Collins in frame was no easy task.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

For some reason, Elvis was not asked to perform at Garagefest. But he took it to the streets—even in the rain.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Live from Scion Garagefest: Kid Congo is a guitarist and bandleader who’s been a member of the Cramps, Gun Club, and the Bad Seeds. Resplendent in a cool cape, Kid Congo played a spine-tingling mix of R&B, psychedelia, and rock en espanõl.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Live from Scion Garagefest: Cute band alert! Tennessee vixens Those Darlins displayed punk moxie, house-party chutzpah, and a tuneful approach that belied their tough-chick persona.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Live from Scion Garagefest: The strangest thing about the Strange Boys, from Austin, was the front-and-center presence of a gal who didn’t sing but kept time tapping her umbrella.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

This is me and some guy named Ross. I told him he could be in the slideshow if he bought me a beer.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Live from Scion Garagefest: Goodnight Loving deserved a bigger crowd than the spotty attendance at Satyricon. The Wisconsin combo’s blend of twang, fuzz, and harmony was scintillating.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Kid Congo and his drummer get up close and personal. Nice mustache!

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

I loved Canadian combo Simply Saucer’s honest, bar-band approach to psych-pop, but I was apparently in the minority. Someday Lounge was jammed for this set.

View Slideshow » Photo: John Chandler

Memphis legend Jack Oblivion’s set at Dante’s was a great way to finish off the night. Rough and soulful like the Stones, a hard voice of authority like Springsteen or Warren Zevon.

An entire day devoted to fuzzed-out, three-chord 1960s-style bashing? Kind of. It became evident early on that Scion’s Garagefest was operating under a fairly spacious umbrella, from the Dirtbombs sweaty riff riot, to Goodnight Loving’s sweet, twangy trash, to Kid Congo’s Latin-fluenced sonic spook show.

Speaking of umbrellas, there was more than one occasion where a bumbershoot would have come in handy, as Saturday’s weather proved to be as unpredictable as the 40-odd bands playing at the four Burnside corridor venues. I got soaked waiting for the Dirtbombs, and re-soaked making a dash for a slice of pizza an hour or so later.

Honestly, I was a little leery of a corporate-sponsored fest. Besides hardcore punk and Scandinavian black metal, garage rock is probably the most snotty, anti-authoritarian musical idiom known to mankind. And I do have a complaint to register with Scion. The swag bags left a lot to be desired. Other than the earplugs, socks, and a little package of mints that I haven’t been able to open, everything else was car propaganda. On the plus side, the socks are quite comfy.

While the lines to get in to see big names like the Black Lips and Roky Erickson at Berbati’s Pan were ludicrously long, causing many to give up on the early side of Saturday night, the Satyricon and Someday Lounge were usually an easy fit, making the fest a golden opportunity to see some little-known acts, among whom were several pleasant surprises. Those Darlins, Goodnight Loving, and the Strange Boys all delivered memorable—and varied—sets.

Get a gander at our web-exclusive slideshow from Scion Garagefest and soak up the sights, sounds, and smells of a full day dedicated to no-frills, no-nonsense rock ‘n’ roll. Sadly, we failed to get pictures of the matronly prostitute who asked me for a date or the drunk guy from Florida that tried to bite me while I was waiting for a late-night burrito. I guess you had to be there. Note: You may notice a drop in quality from the early photos, shot by ace photographer Cammie Toloui, and those that follow, captured by my Sony digital. Still, I firmly believed I was a triple threat, just like Peter Parker: fighting crime, reporting, and snapping the pics.

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Tags: Slideshow, band, music

Rock the Clubs

Forever Fresh

I never knew I was a Young Fresh Fellow before.

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Young Fresh Fellows rip it up at Dante’s.

Below, From Words to Blows casts its spell.

For me, going out to a rock show means looking straight into the cruel, bottomless eye sockets of death. Yes, I know I’m being a melodramatic wuss.

See, I don’t go out much anymore. Covering the local music milieu for more than a dozen years has taken its toll on both my hearing and my patience, and these days my love of rock ‘n’ roll is mostly platonic. If I’m seeing an up-and-coming band, I am invariably the oldest duffer in the room, except for the odd parent or two. Being reminded of your dwindling vitality is a drag, and having to get jacked on Pepsi to stay alert wreaks havoc on my stomach. If I’m seeing an old standby, I’ll run into people I’ve known forever, but they’ll be out the door early because they have to get the sitter home. Or, more likely, they’ve become broken-down shells of their formerly dynamic selves. I put myself in this category. Hand me my shawl and help me into my rocking chair, won’t you, young fellow?

But a blazing set by the Young Fresh Fellows at Dante’s, part of a lethal triple-threat lineup last Saturday, was invigorating. I felt like Don friggin’ Ameche in Cocoon or something. I may even have danced, but that part could have been a dream.

It’s such a bonus to get three worthy bands at one show. Nothing kills an evening’s momentum more than having to sit through an endless set by some no-talent friends of the doorman who managed to weasel their way onto the bill. And can we agree that four bands on one bill is too many? Good.

It was a pleasure seeing From Words to Blows, the new group led by Jesse Emerson, a cool guy who’s patiently stood in the background playing bass for bands such as the Flatirons and Amelia. Now he’s got a guitar and a whole string of songs that fly out of him like subtle, puzzling pop darts that always hit their target. Still trying to come up with a decent style description. Can music be dark, pensive, and fun? Apparently. The lovely Susannah Weaver (aka Little Sue) plays bass and sweetly sings backup, and Steve Drizos from Jerry Joseph and the Jackmormons hits the drums like they owe him money. Normally the two of them would be joined by Decemberists’ keyboardist Jenny Conlee, but she’s currently on tour making loads and loads of cash.

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From Words to Blows casts its spell.

The Tripwires, fronted by Jon Ramberg, are an enviably catchy group that sound like Squeeze or Elvis Costello with just a hint of roots-rock toughness baked into the crust.

As for the headliners, if you’ve never seen the Young Fresh Fellows live, you are truly bereft. Showering the crowd with everything from loony power pop to rude riffage, and showing no signs of decrepitude after 25 years of servitude to the dark gods, this wily ensemble boasts a four-star songwriter in Scott McCaughey, who’s usually busy with his primary band the Minus 5. Bassist Jim Sangster (also a member of the Tripwires) bounces on the bottom end, pushed along by one of my favorite manic (maniac?) drummers, Tad Hutchison, who likes to tell corny jokes like, “Hey Scott! Did you hear I got laid off from my job at the orange juice factory? They said I couldn’t concentrate!” Lead guitarist Kurt Bloch is not only a primo songwriter in his own right, he can also play Queen’s “Brighton Rock” note for note. Mixing YFF staples such as “My Friend Ringo,” “Taco Wagon,” and “I Don’t Let the Little Things Get Me Down,” with zesty material off their brand-new release I Think This Is, this quartet of geezers my own age, entirely satisfied with modest achievements and a terrific repertoire of songs, relentlessly kicked ass and jumped around like grasshoppers on a griddle. It did my old baboon heart a world of good.

Hell, I’m getting the band back together! Look out world! Never mind the Metamucil!

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Tags: Night Life, band, music

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Slabtown Salute

Rockin’ fundraiser brings in the bucks for a local nonprofit.

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Coco Cobra & the Killers blast the house with a roaring version of the Sonics’ tune “Cinderella.”

Photo by Della Slowik

Just a quick round of applause for all the bands that played Nuggets Tribute Night at Slabtown last Saturday night. Fans of three-chord garage rock shimmied to the likes of Coco Cobra & the Killers (pictured), featuring the incomparable Viva Las Vegas, the Foxgloves, Beyond Veronica, Purple Owsley, the Strange Effects, and the Welfare State—whose version of the Paul Revere & the Raiders hit “Just Like Me” brought the house down. The event raised $1,000 for Ethos Music Center in North Portland, a nonprofit that seeks to promote music and music-based education for youth in underserved communities. Organizer Sam Soule and the staff at Slabtown also deserve bear hugs for a smoothly run evening and for keeping the musicians hydrated with a veritable ocean of Pabst.

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Tags: band, music, viva las vegas

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