Local News & Reviews

[August 30th, 2006]

^Greg Oldson Thursday, Aug. 31

How a local folkster keeps it 50 percent plants, 50 percent music, 100 percent real.

[DARK AMERICANA] "I don't know how to put pictures and music and that stuff on there," local folk singer Greg Oldson says in an effort to explain his lack of MySpace identity or online presence. The 31-year-old Colorado native may look boyish with his sun-streaked blond mop and worn, low-top Chuck Taylors, but when it comes to the topic of technology, you could just as well be chatting with your parents. It isn't just the old-time charm of Oldson's music bleeding into other aspects of his life, though; his choices as a musician are much more deliberate than that.

He hints at the impersonal quality of a vehicle like MySpace, of people's false representations. "I try to stray from using any clichés," he explains. "I've heard songs that have to do with cell phones and computers, and it totally dates you; it's just not romantic, either." Oldson's romance is often more gothic than pleasant, though. Themes of loneliness, retribution and human struggle abound on Oldson's latest album, Leaving Open Fields (recorded with Brown Brothers, his now far-flung band from the Durango days), the dark matter cloaked in his tight, reedy voice and accompaniment that ranges from cheerfully picked acoustic, dissonant electric and whining lap steel guitars to sparsely shimmering percussion and ghostly atmospherics.

The morbidly intriguing folk songs on Fields, though quite earnest, tell little of their source's other life—as a good-natured horticulturist. Suitably, Oldson—who'd like a life that's, "you know, 50 percent plants, 50 percent music"—is about to embark on a philanthropic mission to Chile to work for at least a year as a volunteer at an organic farm. "If you're in a good personal space where you wanna put yourself out there, it's like, 'This is great; I'll play music.' But working in a garden, farming and stuff, you don't have to deal with people."

When asked if he exorcises personal demons through songwriting, Oldson enthusiastically says, "Hell, yeah." And he isn't concerned about losing his edge or selling himself to the world: "My music is...an angry side of me, a more critical side," he explains. "A lot of people that were singing in the '20s, '30s, '40s...they never made any money in music, they never did anything except they made a shitload of music, and it was all total soul. I totally look into that." Though it may seem baffling that such a jovial individual creates music that inhabits the darker shadows of his idols—namely Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Woodie Guthrie—Oldson doesn't find the juxtaposition strange at all: "I think most people that do creative things, it comes out of this battle between what they're distraught about in the world and what they enjoy and love about the world," he says. "If you're just on a utopian level, there's no need to create anything."

—AMY MCCULLOUGH.

Oldson plays his final North American show Thursday, Aug. 31, at Amnesia Brewing Company. 7 pm. Free. 21+.

^Nick Jaina Thursday, Aug. 31

Sad bastard songsmith finds an audience with a little help from his newfound friends.

[INDIE-FOLK] A year ago, local singer-songwriter Nick Jaina was looking out at empty rooms, alone and hopeless, as he played his sad songs. Then, one fateful night at Slabtown after what he considered a "miserable" performance, Ali Ippolito and Scott Magee of Heroes & Villains approached him, said they loved his music and told him they wanted to play with him. Suddenly the songwriter was appearing onstage with members of Point Juncture, WA and Heroes & Villains, as well as multi-instrumentalist Peter Broderick and songwriter Laura Gibson, playing full arrangements of his songs to crowds of people who were—gasp—singing along. WW sat down with Jaina and talked to him about the vagaries of friendship and the record they helped him create, The 7 Stations.

—MARK BAUMGARTEN.

WW: What's has been the biggest change in the past year?

Nick Jaina: After Ali and Scott came up to me at that show, I just found this whole big group of musicians that all wanted to play together, who were all fans of each other's work and who, fortunately, didn't mind not getting paid for it. In the last year I've had eight or nine different musicians join me on stage. My last couple albums have been written as solo albums, but this one is definitely written for the band.

But this record's gone through a few versions, right?

Well, I finished the album and then gave it to Wilson [Vediner] from Point Juncture, WA, and he came back with two sets of notes, and said "These are ways you can change what you have, and then this is what you can do if you scrap what you've done and completely change it, because it's crap." [Laughs] It's hard to get that honest feedback that you know is true.

So what did you do differently?

Well, that original version, I really worked at it hard and tried to make it sound all hi-fi, getting really close to the mic and singing softly. Wilson helped me realize that I had to concentrate on the performance, playing the songs like I do live...capturing the spirit of the song instead of spending five hours positioning a mic.

How much longer did you spend recording?

Three months. People were really concerned because they thought I was trying to make it too perfect, but I was just trying to make it more human.

Nick Jaina plays with Holcombe Waller and the Music Population Orchestra at Doug Fir. 9 pm. $7. 21+.

^Glass Candy Friday, Sept. 1 IKO (Troubleman Unlimited)

DJs take note, everyone else be wary: Glass Candy's taken on "Iko Iko" in a major way.

[AMNESIAC DANCE MUSIC] Normally, when I review a record, I haven't had it for a terribly long time. But I've had IKO—the latest from Portland "death disco" trio Glass Candy—in my "current" stack since late spring, much longer than the usual few days or weeks. This leaves me with an unusual, non-static perspective. Really, how many albums are in your collection that have lived an objective life, that haven't collected dust one season and spent another nearly catching your stereo on fire? This disc travels both extremes with uncomfortable frequency. One July evening, I nearly threw it, with my CD player, into the street as my roommate pumped it at "11" while cleaning and dancing. One June evening, I pumped it at "11" while daydreaming and thinking about cleaning.

Unfortunately, since that night in July, IKO hasn't bounced back. It remains—no matter how hard I try—fucking irritating. Which is somewhat understandable, considering that save one original, the rest of the tracks are covers of a song that could be slightly irritating to begin with: "Iko Iko" is a traditional (read: covered into oblivion) Mardi Gras party song with a hint of racial undertone.

Devoting most of an album to one of the most covered songs in the canon is a ballsy move, and I'll give Glass Candy some credit for that: In an odd way, the band is going out on a limb. And granted, the production is as clean as it comes, and "Iko" (which is the opening track) deserves every DJ spin it gets, but much of IKO seems a waste after that. It's catchy, inviting and well-crafted, but outside of a dance club (or any other place characterized by short attention spans), it serves as little more than an exercise: "Look at everything we can do with an old-school party song!" My advice is to dig IKO for a few weeks, save the first "Iko Iko" cover, and then burn everything else, starting with the vocoder-based version of "Lovin' Machine."

—MICHAEL BYRNE.

Glass Candy plays with DJ Sew What Friday, Sept. 1, at Dunes. 10 pm. Cover. 21+.

^HALLELUWAH Friday & Saturday, Sept. 1-2

A few golden highlights of Portland's festival of the enthused arts.

[psych marathon and then some] Alas! A full rundown of the roughly 35 local acts playing at Halleluwah will not fit into this little rectangle. So here are five hometown acts for which you had better be in the front row getting fuckin' enthused. I'm tilting things toward bands that haven't received a lot attention from WW and localcut.com, so if something obviously awesome gets skipped, it's because it's something obviously awesome.

—MICHAEL BYRNE.

Michael Hurley, Friday

A.k.a. the Snock. This is the only musician playing Halleluwah from the same generation as its genesis, Vashti Bunyan. But unlike Bunyan, Hurley's never taken a hiatus. For more than three decades, he's consistently scattered quirky American folk songs that seem like posts from foreign wanderings through the eyes of Snock. And that's something to experience.

Eternal Tapestry, Friday

I'll admit Eternal Tapestry remains somewhat of a mystery to me. Which is shameful considering that its résumé of side projects, primary projects, and musical peeps translates to psych Harvard: Jackie-O Motherfucker, Evolutionary Jass Band, Tunnels, Mustaphamond, Me Con, Hustler White, Alarmist and more.

Tara Jane O'Neil, Friday

OK, so we have given TJO a lot of press. Hell, I write about her every chance I get. And for good reason! O'Neil's one of Portland's best songwriters, and when I listen to her, I get the same sense of mellow contentment that Vashti Bunyan's first album, Just Another Diamond Day, gives me. Sigh.

Rob Walmart, Saturday

After seeing Rob Walmart perform as part of Marriage's first madman monthly improv session back in March, I asked White Rainbow's Adam Forkner who the heck I had just watched. Answer: "A super group of basically all of the old-school Marriage types: Curtis Knapp, Tomb, Mike Knapp, Scott Rawls, Adrian [Orange], Davis [Lee Hooker]." I've been waiting ever since to see these Marriage Records pioneers on their own.

The Grails, Saturday

It's been a long time since the Grails have blessed their hometown with a show. This crew channels a few of my favorite things at once: Gloomy post-rock à la Godspeed You! Black Emperor, '70s psych, and chilly end-of-the-world rhythms. This is the perfect chance to bring them back into hometown captivity.

Halleluwah takes place Friday and Saturday, Sept. 1-2 at Disjecta. 6 pm Friday, 4 pm Saturday. $16 ($28 for two-day pass). All ages. Also see Riff City, page 39, and Words Q&A, page 62.