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Compilations Galore: The best way to get a sense of a music scene is to frequent rock clubs on nights when local bands play, but this can be painful. Not only do you risk an aural pummeling from some neo-metal band that looks to old Venom records for inspiration, but there's second-hand smoke, beer-soaked floors and other clubgoers with looser affiliations to the human race than yourself. Yecch. Fortunately, there's an alternative. Local compilation CDs offer a chance to familiarize yourself with the musical goings-on around town from your home or automobile. Of course, there's pitfalls to this method as well. Genres as disparate as hardcore, prog-rock and folk can collide unappealingly, the songwriting quality can vary wildly, and the very reason for these albums' existence is to promote bands that, often justly, nobody's heard of. Two new Portland compilations sidestep such obstacles, simultaneously representing their respective micro-scenes and providing a worthwhile listen. Upstart label Resistor Records' From Portland with Love collects 14 local bands based on acquaintance between them. The result is surprisingly cohesive. Aside from the stray funk-bass riff or vocal shriek, the music sticks to a mostly pop/rock terrain. Fixtures Spectator Pump, Spurge and Stereo Crush contribute compelling rock tracks, and New Wave revivalists Xing and Reload offer catchy tunes that don't suffer too much from their retro vibe. On "Little Guns," Boy Crazy produces a fetching gentle pop song with chiming guitar, subtle vibraphone figures and clever lyrics. Even for veteran clubgoers, there are some genuine finds here, like the virtually unknown quartet Community 7, which blends rock and country influences like X on "Move It On Convoy," and the equally obscure Gregarius, which drifts between boisterousness and minimalism on "Falling Free." Less, on Hush Records, isn't a true compilation; it's the product of a weekend recording session featuring four young Portland singer/songwriters and a few guests. Chad Crouch, Jeff London and two musicians who use pseudonyms--Kind of Like Spitting and Reclinerland--play their songs with some backing accompaniment, though the emphasis is on acoustic guitar and vocals. Thus, Less serves as both a various-artists collection and an impromptu band's album, albeit one with four different lead singers and visions. Of the four, Kind of Like Spitting distinguishes himself, coming up with unconventional songs and performances. He stresses the silent parts between chorus and verse, and sings with an emotional conviction that, like the music itself, can lead to both success and failure. When his voice strains to hit unreachable high notes in "Kiddie Chalk," it's more engaging than much of the other material on Less, which tends toward a precision that's out of sync with the nature of this recording session. The album is a quandary: It sounds clean and pleasantly listenable, but the songwriting and delivery often blatantly recall current indie-rock heroes such as Elliott Smith, Belle & Sebastian and the Sea and Cake. Even with its faults, Less is a quintessential Portland album, filled with mopey observations about love, rainy-day pontifications about life, and understated, evocative musicianship. And like From Portland with Love, it saves you from trudging out to clubs, inhaling unwanted smoke, slipping in beer puddles and interacting with the riffraff. Show of the Week: More than two years after forming and becoming one of Portland's most talked-about bands, Jr. High is finally poised to live up to its original promise. The Sean Croghan-led quartet just released a 7-inch record with the songs "Walk Like a Man" and "Mouthful of Friends," both of which bristle with punk-pop intensity and set down catchy melodies. In accordance with the release, on Seattle's eMpTy Records, Jr. High headlines an offbeat lineup at Berbati's Pan on Friday. Opening act the Belmont Street Octet has interpreted jazz standards every Sunday at the cozy LaurelThirst for years, but it's rare for Neil Gilpin to take his ensemble out to other stages, let alone as a warm-up act for rock bands. It'll be fascinating to see what Gilpin's Octet can do given the increased power of a sound system and Berbati's airier environment. In the middle slot, Pond plays its first show since freeing itself of a major-label contract. The deviceful guitar-rock quartet might let loose in adhering to the Bob Dylan adage--repeated so eloquently by Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic--that "When you got nothing, you've got nothing to lose." |
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