Strum
And Twang
A guide for people who like both kinds - country
and western
Fey
Boys and Angry Girls
Sometimes you desire the light lilt of a boy
come undone, and at
other moments you crave the misbehaving shreik of a she-devil.
Ah, sweet surrender. Just follow me.
The
Rebirth of Cool
In the midst of rock noise, street beats and
country hee-haw, jazz cats can find solice.
You Thought The Beat Slowed Down?
Portland isn't a hip-hop mecca quite yet, but a vanguard of
locals and visitors brings the proverbial ruckus during nxnw.
What's Up, Rock?
Or, what's a half-discriminating, half-drunk
punker to do during North by Northwest?
Five Against the Rock
What to see if you're sick of the same old thing.
 |
|
You
Thought the Beat
Slowed Down?
Portland isn't a hip-hop mecca quite
yet, but a vanguard of locals and visitors brings the
proverbial ruckus during nxnw.
BY
ZACH DUNDAS
zdundas@wweek.com |
For Portland hip-hop fans, the last 12 months have seen the
glimmer of a new dawn after many days of musical darkness.
Throughout hip-hop's two-decade climb to the top, Portland
spent most of the time on the sidelines, watching as new
waves of urban beats washed over the charts without adding
many voices to the uproar. Rock-dominated radio stations
would play groups like the Beastie Boys because they were
accessible (if you catch our drift), but stayed away
from the tracks moving other metro areas. Public or non-comm
stations like KBOO and KPSU were left to pick up the slack.
This spring, though, 95.5 FM made the switch, adopting
a playlist leaning on R&B pop hits and a healthy dose
of hip-hop. Although complaints abound about 95.5's somnolent
song selection and unadventurous DJs, most everyone interested
in warming Portland's sometimes-tepid cultural climate welcomes
the station on some level. Major hip-hop tours that once
gave the Rose City a miss--from the arena-rocking Hard Knock
Life Tour to club shows by the Wu-Tang Clan's Genius and
Foxy Brown--now hit PDX. Things are looking up.
Given hip-hop's current status as America's most-purchased
genre, North by Northwest '99 leaves the music under-represented,
quantity-wise. In terms of quality, though, there's plenty
for fans to get into--although you may have to pack your
itinerary to fit it all in.
You must begin with Hungry Mob (Zoot Suite, 1 am
Friday). This six-piece mental caravan has explored many
mutations in search of its present skull-rocking form. Drummer
David Parks mixes electronic pads into his kit, holding
down a supple backbeat. Fretless bass and supersonic space-age
keyboards keep the high-low yin and yang in balance, while
a three-pronged vocal attack from Mike Crenshaw, Circol
and the diva-licious Toni Hill ensures a constantly shifting
approach to the mic. Hungry Mob appeals to serious hip-hop
heads, indie rockers and jazz freaks alike.
Kofy Brown (Seges Artbar, 1 am Saturday) likewise
delves into the eclectic sounds, favoring the '60s and '70s
jazz-funk union to power her sister-centric rhymes. For
an Oakland artist, she offers verses that go down easy,
eschewing concrete edge in favor of a mellow Bay Area vibe.
The centerpiece of NXNW's hip-hop selection is Saturday's
all-night blow-out at the Roseland. Starting at 8
pm, a diverse crew of DJs starts to work on the wax, accompanied
by breakdancers intent on recreating rap's early-'80s golden
age. After that appetizer, the MCs come thick and fast,
trading the mic for lickety-split 30-minute sets through
2 am. Portland's old-school MC Cool Nutz (10 pm)
and Dallas' Headkrack (12:30 am), whom I saw lay
down a sizzling set in Austin a few weeks back, highlight
the night's b-boy showcase.
I'm loath to suggest that you miss the climax of the Roseland
show, but I'd be remiss if I didn't demand that everyone
and their mother rush to see Maroon Colony (Seges
ArtBar, midnight Saturday). Critics seem all too ready to
compare this outsized crew from Seattle's Central District
to the Roots--and indeed, its organic sound bears some superficial
resemblance to the Philly stalwarts. But Maroon Colony isn't
stealing from anyone; the group's free-flowing beatnik sound
is all its own, a beautiful realization of the subcutaneous
links between bebop and hip-hop. As we enter a new age of
cultural fusion, it's a joyful noise.
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|
What's Up, Rock?
Or,
what's a half-discriminating, half-drunk punker to
do during North by Northwest?
BY JOHN GRAHAM
jgraham@wweek.com
|
Music festivals are extraordinarily un-punk: Salivating
major-label reps hunting fresh meat for the music-biz grinder,
hand-shaking entrepreneurs hyping Internet-distribution schemes
and those freeloading whores politely called "music journalists"
have as tenuous a connection to workaday rockers as post-Pangaea
Iceland does to Australia. Even in these days of instant co-optation,
punk is primarily a grassroots phenom, its virus spread via
personal exposure (independently sold albums, intimate live
performances) rather than the fickle winds of corporate industry
whim.
But look closely and you can find a few strains of punk
creeping on the edge of the mainstream morass. This year's
reigning sound is less Sex Pistols and more Dead Boys--unvarnished,
vintage rock 'n' roll with a maxed-out attitude factor.
The Jimmies (EJ's, 10 pm Thursday), however, would
rather drop gleeful punk-pop bombs than a bad attitude;
after years of drifting around town, the Jimmies' ship may
finally come in when their forthcoming album is released
on the Lookout!-sponsored Panic Button label. If that doesn't
float your boat, travel eight blocks to the Tonic Lounge
for the buoyant Go-Go-ish pop of the Halo Friendlies
(10 pm). Return to EJ's at midnight for the Bar Feeders'
buzzing, breakneck intoxi-rock, then zip to the Paris Theater
at 1 am to watch Portland demi-legend Sean Croghan work
up a sweat with JFK, his new CBGB-in-the-'70s-style
band.
Friday's options are fewer. The ladies of the JP5
(EJ's, midnight) are both sassy and trashy, and they dangle
plenty of hooks to sink your flesh into. The big punk event
that evening, to the delight of the anti-NXNW brigade, is
the TSOL/Mr. T Experience show at the Glass Factory
(8:30 pm). Don't bother bringing your wristband; this show
is only one of many that's sort of in the midst
of the festival without being of the festival.
Saturday promises to wear out shoes and livers--though
conveniently enough for us drunks, the best shows are split
between neighboring EJ's and Club 21. At 9 pm, you'll have
to choose between two spirited, woman-led acts--the Viles
and Tongue--who spit out mean-street scum-punk and
mutated hardcore, respectively. Ten o'clock brings on tough-guy
rock 'n' rollers the Spitfires and Valentine Killers,
11 o'clock is the Dolls-y New Wave Hookers and derisive
Frampton Brothers, and midnight contrasts Seattle's
glammy Cuckoos with their cross-town colleagues-in-rock,
the RC5. Finally, you can bid adieu to the '99 NXNW
with either the melodic charms of the Dragons or
the misanthropic projectiles launched by the Streetwalkin'
Cheetahs. The former craft simple, winning rock 'n'
roll songs, while the latter rip them down to two chords
and a howl. Either is a fine reminder of punk's lingering
potency.
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|
Five Against The Rock
What
to see if you're sick of the same old thing.
BY JOHN GRAHAM
jgraham@wweek.com
|
Sure, rock's great. We can even get down with country. Hip-hop,
techno, sure. Love to dance. But if you're feeling understimulated,
here are five North by Northwest acts that guarantee serious
neurobics.
Nels Cline and Devin Sarno (Cobalt Lounge, 11 pm
Thursday): Two men, armed with a guitar, a bass and an army
of footpedals, mount a devilish attack on familiar notions
of song structure, melody and the meaning of the word "music."
Come an hour earlier for the gothic carnival that is eccentric
accordionist Miss Murgatroid and spry violinist Petra Haden.
Ex-Girl (Roseland Theater, midnight Thursday): Herky-jerky,
playful post-punk from Japan. While Shonen Knife and Cibo
Matto make all the headlines, Ex-Girl makes a more immediate
racket with its slice-and-dice recipe for slanted alternative
rock.
The Dolomites (Kelly's Olympian, 8 pm Friday): Get
your livers off to a fast start with Portland's greatest
secret, the Dolomites, who re-create the fervent young Pogues'
sloshed, sea-shanty attitude so well you may think you're
among the Boys from County Hell.
The Gone Orchestra (Green Onion, 9 pm Friday): Big-band
jazz twisted into a big-time knot of improvised dissonance.
This group simultaneously recontextualizes a familiar past
and posits a new argument for the future of sound.
Botanica (The Spot, midnight Friday): With a combined
résumé including mood-rock greats such as
Firewater, Congo Norvell and Nick Cave, Botanica adds its
own stripe to the circus tent via organ-drenched, vaudevillian,
dusky pop journeys. The Doors trip with Tom Waits and Leonard
Cohen and discover a fresher hell.
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Willamette Week | originally
published September 29,
1999
|
