Local News & Reviews

[October 18th, 2006]

^Horse Feathers Thursday, Oct. 19

Justin Ringle and Peter Broderick release an (nearly) uncomparably beautiful debut.

[FOLK] Horse Feathers singer Justin Ringle has been compared to, by this writer's count, nine different vocalists, including the king of the whisper-thin croon, Nick Drake; political soul songwriter Tracy Chapman; and the Walkmen's indecipherable Hamilton Leithauser. The only thing more remarkable than the diversity of Ringle's supposed influences is the fact that his band, Horse Feathers, has received these flattering comparisons from national tastemakers like National Public Radio and indie-rock Web mecca Pitchfork in just the few weeks following the late-September release of its debut record, Words Are Dead. In the scramble to make sense of the tremendously beautiful music of this year-old Portland duo, the powers that be have been forced to dig up an odd collection of songwriters that are comparable only in their ability to deliver devastatingly powerful vocal performances.

But for every comparison, there is a misdirection. The 25-year-old does have a whispered delivery, but his sense of melody is much more nuanced than Drake's; he shares Chapman's stirring rhythmic vocal delivery, but manages to remain fresh and bright throughout these songs, never overpowering them as Chapman often does; he does share an intensity with Leithauser, but Ringle never lets that intensity become the song, tending to let the intricate melodies and movements of Horse Feathers' living room orchestrations move his listener.

And then there is the one thing that Ringle has that none of these other songwriters have: the wondrous instrumental accompaniment of fellow Horse Feather Peter Broderick, a 19-year-old prodigy who accompanies Ringle's fingerpicked acoustic composition with banjo, mandolin, saw, cello, piano, viola, vocals and violin.

The two musicians met in 2005, soon after Ringle moved to Portland from Pullman, Wash., where he had played in a few bands, most notably Laserhawk with Talkdemonic drummer Kevin O'Connor. After taking a break from music and then suffering a heartbreak (recounted brutally in "Walking & Running"), Ringle began playing open-mike nights at the Red & Black Cafe and the LaurelThirst Pub under the name Horse Feathers and recorded a rough demo in O'Connor's basement. That demo eventually made it into Broderick's hands, and the two musicians quickly became both bandmates and roommates.

Broderick has become something of a wunderkind in the local folk renaissance. The young musician has shared the stage on a regular basis with the great Nick Jaina, the lovely Laura Gibson, the impeccable Norfolk & Western and many more, but it's his performance in Horse Feathers where Broderick's tremendous musical ability shines, in a very subtle way. Clearly a master of most any instrument he plays, Broderick never overpowers Ringle. Rather, his instruments seem to play with Ringle's vocals, as on "Blood on the Snow," where Broderick's violin appears as a second voice, both highlighting the strained reach of the melody and supporting it. In this way, the two feel completely inseparable and powerful, their collective voice too potent to be compared to any single songwriter. This, rather, is music with the strength and beauty of Simon & Garfunkel. Add that one to the heap.

—MARK BAUMGARTEN

Horse Feathers celebrate the release of Words are Dead with Laura Gibson and Winter Stories at Holocene. 9 pm. $6. 21+. Also see Riff City, page 43.

^Mercedes Friday, Oct. 20

Local house DJ, steeped in the power of music, finds her own path.

[HOUSE] By day, Mercedes Modesta Herrada is a surgical pathology assistant. Working methodically in the lab, she cuts up body parts harvested from patients during surgery. By night, known simply as Mercedes, she works methodically behind two turntables to make dance-ready masses move. She enjoys the lab, she explains, because she is still helping people get better, but without the emotionally taxing work of dealing with patients. It's in the club, Mercedes explains, where her emotional life takes place. It is also where she continues to help people.

Mainly she helps the crowd shake their booties with the smooth, funky, chuggy, stompy Chicago-bump she's been dancing to since the sound found her. She tends to keep her set mellow, because she wants the crowd to dance and not get tired too quick, but she still plays hard. The bass lines are deep and strange and pulsing, with abstract sounds thrown in to keep the sound unique, but it never strays too far from the original house sound. If she wants her other house-obsessed friends and fans to get crazy at Ohm, where she usually holds court, she might drop some tracks she picked up at Platinum Records, or something she found digging at Everyday Music. "A lot of people tell me I look pissed off when I'm playing," Mercedes says, "but I'm just super-serious about it."

All the kids in the North Portland neighborhood where Mercedes grew up in the '80s had their radios tuned to 1480 KBMS, the hip-hop and R&B station that inspired them to choreograph their own moves and have dance-offs in the schoolyard. But Mercedes was surrounded by music even before that; first there was her father's family, who embraced the traditions of their native Cuba, a culture steeped in music. Then there was Mom, with her feverish love of Motown, and Dad, a guitarist and huge Jimi Hendrix fan.

At 14, Mercedes started going out. "I used to go to this place called the City Nightclub. It was a queer nightclub, all ages. There was this guy Alex who used to play, and that was my first experience with DJing." This, Mercedes told me between sips of beer, was where she first danced to house music. But it wasn't until she heard Mark Farina (whom she will be opening for Friday at Ohm) and DJ Heather and Derrick Carter—with their funky R&B sound and weird, fuzzy acid elements dropped in—that she fell in love.

"Certain fusions of sound make me feel like crying—but not out of a sad place," Mercedes says. "It's something I could equate to love and heartbreak."

—JOSEY DUNCAN

Mercedes opens for Mark Farina, Marc Madina and Charlie Deep at Ohm. 9:30 pm. $20 advance, $25 day of show. 21+. Also see Friday listing.

^Joshua Blanchard

On the eve of the final Church of Psychedelia, WW finally sits down with the minister of mind-bending music.

[PSYCH] For the past two years, Joshua Blanchard has curated the monthly Church of Psychedelia, inviting this city's massively talented, free-minded musicians to play and exposing a whole new crowd to style of music that—two years ago—was buried in the margins of "Indie Town, U.S.A." To many, "psychedelic" means tripping the hell out on mushrooms. To the artists Blanchard has brought to Holocene each month, it means music without boundaries and the possibility of expanding a listener's way of considering music. Last week, I passed notes with Blanchard about the end of the Church and why it's really just a beginning. MICHAEL BYRNE.

WW: You mentioned that WW hasn't covered the Church of Psychedelia. True. Apologies. We didn't think it would end. Tell us what our readers have missed out on.

Joshua Blanchard: No, it's OK. The Decemberists need all the press they can get if they're ever going to make it! (Kidding.) Well, we've hosted everything from white-hot acid rock to highbrow performance art. Lots of variety, lots of good vibes.

Why is CoP ending? Isn't there someone willing to keep it up?

The main reason I've decided to end the Church nights is because I see that the odd kind of music I've been trying to support has caught on much more around town, so I don't have to fill the same role anymore. I think a bunch of other folks are keeping it up for me already, in a sense.

Who've been regular parishioners?

One thing I always wanted was for the night to not be some kind of hipster parade, because I wanted a place where anyone with an open mind could feel comfortable. There's always been a motley crew of music-scene people, older music nerds and whoever else I could drag.

Do you think you've exposed new people to this style of music? Was that a goal of the Church?

That was the main goal. I've always been a proponent for this sort of out-of-body drone music, but I never really catered the booking to anyone's taste but my own. Most of the acts, after a point, approached me, and as long as they were dense or unusual enough, I'd have them play. Portland has always been more receptive to "experimental" music than most places, though, with or without my involvement!

The final Church of Psychedelia, featuring White Rainbow, Ghosting, Paint and Copter, and Plants, takes place Sunday, Oct. 21, at 9 pm. Free. 21+. Also see album review, page 57.

^CatchWaves"fromUntitledSplitwithBonecloud(Yarnlazer)" style="background-image:none;padding:0;">Ghosting "Catch Waves" from Untitled Split with Bonecloud (Yarnlazer)

Zach Reno and J.P. Jenkins manage to turn the soundtrack into a storyline.

[ATMOSPHERIC STORYTELLING] To musically create atmosphere is one thing. Whatever you call it—ambient, background, mood music—this type of song is meant to be ignored at a certain level, its purpose to accompany a narrative, to be breathed in and out, perhaps drifted with, but rarely charted. To create an atmosphere that tells its own story, that survives without earth and gravity, is something else entirely. The 22 minutes of chiming bells, ghostly electronic drones and haunted guitar delays that is Ghosting's "Catch Waves" is precisely this. The dry word for it is "cinematic." Within its too-short (these 22 minutes elapse in dream time) span is a narration of sense and feeling, traveling from a bewitching solace of barely formed melodics to an anxiety-laden hum, embedded with frail whispers and glances of feedback and squeal. The ending's an abstract horror show that I'm loath to give away, save for the fact that its only resolution is a turn of the volume and effects knobs to "0."

This track, one half of a split album with Ireland's Bonecloud, is one in a sea of releases for the Ghosting duo of Zach Reno and J.P. Jenkins, many of them on Reno's Onomato CD-R label. This album finds itself on yet another CD-R label, Yarnlazer, in (relatively) limited release. Though I suspect the band isn't terribly concerned, the situation is unfortunate, as "Catch Waves" is an achievement comparable to the (again, relatively) underground Sonic Youth score for the French film Demonlover, a cold, cynical montage of corporate nightmares. The score has the effect of stilling and clarifying—in the same way a bare, cold day does—the images on the screen, in addition to matching the motions and rhythms of the narrative. The funny thing is when the images and dialogue are removed; the music retains the imprint. The story remains. With "Catch Waves" we have only the music, which is a good thing. It means we can ascribe whatever concrete world we want to it, within its abstract bounds. Or, we can ascribe nothing to it at all, and simply have a story of moods and feelings.

—MICHAEL BYRNE

Ghosting plays with White Rainbow, Paint and Copter, and Plants at the final Church of Psychedelia, Sunday, Oct. 19. Holocene. 9 pm. Free. 21+. Also see Q&A, page 55.