Here we go again. I've gone to see shows. I took some notes, I swear I did. But only a few scraps of paper are drifting across my coffee table waiting to be read, interpreted, and turned into a description. I should always come straight home to post! Anyhow, the theme for the first night seems to be "places I've never been."
A couple of weeks ago, a new place called Oz Cafe had a grand opening party. They're in the same little arty-incubator-squatter complex as Tender Loving Empire, and some TLE bands played the party. I got there in time for Jared Mees and the Grown Children, whom I've seen close to 422 billion times recently. They have the plastic-carrying-case glockenspiel that is more Portlandy than having a Keep Portland Weird! sticker on your car that you never drive because oh my god how gauche, everyone would know you own a car, so you just ride that bicycle and wish it had a heater and a roof, because damn is it cold and wet out. The party was basically the alleyway, some pop-up tent-things, some patio heaters, and a garage door open into the space where the band was set up. It was raining, and almost snowing, and here was this crowd all bundled up and bouncing around. The tentmoshing looked a little worrisome, but otherwise it was great fun. As usual, JM&tGC was all broken-geek-squawk vocals over a meta-tongue-in-cheek (we're not really kidding...but we might be kidding about that?) raucus banjo-violin twang. Interestingly, I'm not sure if I missed this before or if it's a new element, but The Boyfriend noticed occasional prominent bits of The Hold Steady bubbling up like crude oil or sewage or something dark and ripe and maybe a bit dangerous. Nice!
So then the debate started. Do we stick around for Boy Eats Drum Machine, whom we've never seen, or do we go to The Coop, where we've never been, for half a dozen bands? There were actually about nine other shows on the list of possibilities, but by the time we got out into it, it was down to a Clash song's worth of options. It was a tough call, with both of us on the fence, but we decided to head to The Coop. It's a house in NoPo, and I haven't been to a house party like that since I was underage and in college. Surprisingly, there wasn't a keg of Old Milwaukee Light with plastic cups, nor did anyone puke on my shoes (now that I'm far removed from college, confidential to I've totally forgotten your name in Minneapolis: puking on my shoes was never, ever going to get you a date...once was awkward, but twice was just off-putting). This place is a beautiful arts-and-crafts old house with low, beamed ceilings and the original, unpainted dark wood. I wanted to steal the house and take it home with me. There was a pretty remarkable lineup for a two-dollar show in someone's house--Rainy States, Reporter, Bodhi, Paper Cup Band (I'm just listing them in order...PCB wasn't so remarkable), and Southern Belle. Sadly, we missed Rainy States and Reporter. I haven't seen Reporter since they were Wet Confetti, and I keep hearing they're remarkably different now. Oh well. Can't win 'em all, especially in a multivenue night. Got there during Bodhi's set. They had fun playfully mimicking everyone in your CD collection (including that stuff you keep in a shoebox so no one will know). The Doors, Bowie, Modest Mouse, the Velvet Underground, Southern Culture On the Skids, surfpunk, Meatloaf, britpunk, the Rocky Horror Picture Show, mid-century senior-prom swing-lite, and cheesy organ-heavy monster-music novelty rock, blended together but left all chunky, like it was set to "chop," not "puree." Echoey, loud, weird, dramatic, and fun. This was followed up by Paper Cup Band, from Minneapolis. Despite their foreign-land status, a bunch of people there sang along. What was the underwater basketball bit? Everyone seemed to know it, even though the words never appeared in the song. Google was, for once, no help. Anyhow, a few moments of very early Replacements (and at least as drunk), but no one can keep up that reckless genius for long. Songs that referenced Paul McCartney and lice. A screamed cover of Yellow Submarine. A little more surfpunk, Dick Dale-style. And a healthy dose of The Dead Milkmen. They were awful, and really just sucked, yet I kind of enjoyed it. And if one of them goes on to be Paul Westerberg, I can say I knew 'em when. I asked one of them about his t-shirt, and he tried to convince me I should move back to Minneapolis. Oh, and that I could die tomorrow. Thanks for that reminder of my own fragility and mortality, really. Finally, Southern Belle. I heard a hell of a lot of early-early careening-crazy Modest Mouse in this one (I've said this about them before). One of them even sounds a lot like Isaac Brock. They don't have his gift for messy poetry, but who does? What they have instead is a keyboard set to Hammond B-3.
Last show on the list: The Crystal Ballroom's birthday party. I've been before (and reviewed it before). This year, I missed the tour, heard a bit of Rock and Roll Camp For Girls' All-Star show (good, if not my style...too fluttery and flourished, vocally), missed tween-rocksters Still Pending (does one of their parents work for the McMenamins empire?), missed lots of other stuff, saw Greensky Bluegrass (twangy '70s hippie cliched shit...seemed like a good time to get some dinner). Tasted some wines. The Boyfriend liked the sparkling wine, but I had just brushed my teeth and thought it tasted atrocious. The White Rabbit blend and the Merlot seemed unremarkable to me. The Pinot Noir, however, I loved. It was earthy and dry-leaf-y and interesting. Tasted some liquors, and had a long, interesting conversation with the head distiller. Hogshead Whiskey, Pear Brandy, Edgefield Brandy, and Coffee Liqueur (lovely, not-too-sweet, dangerous as hell). Tasted some beers. The nut-brown was kind of boring, and the IPA was pretty nice, and smelled gorgeous, like hop perfume. Last up, Blue Giant! Second time I've seen 'em, and they just rock my socks off. Seriously, I end up barefoot and astounded. It's totally my nemesis, Americana Rock, but damn. Nearly all their songs sound like lost covers of Loretta Lynn or The Carpenters (but rocked out like mad) or...shit, I don't even know this Americana stuff well enough to list the rest of those things I heard. I've fallen in love with and half-memorized a bunch of these songs I've heard once before. You keep shooting at my target heart... Once my love is gone, it's gone for good... Sometimes there was a pedal steel. Sometimes there were two banjos. Sometimes there was an upright bass. One question, though: Why is Chris Funk always dressed like one of the Blues Brothers? Regardless, I went home happy, and not just because of all the free alcohol.
