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The Helio Sequence
[SUBURB POP] A few years ago, Brandon Summers, guitarist and singer for Beaverton-bred duo the Helio Sequence, damaged his vocal cords to the point it was doubtful if he'd be able to sing again. The ordeal forced him to relearn how to be a musician, and in turn changed his band. Already known for its layered keyboards, shimmering guitars and powerful drums, with 2008's Keep Your Eyes Ahead, the pair matured into masters of atmosphere, able to wring emotion from the simplest of arrangements. MATTHEW SINGER. WONDER BALLROOM: NIKE.
8 Pm
Mbilly
[UPROOTED] While the former M. William Helfrich has become justly applauded around the Northwest acoustic circuit (regularly opening for Weinland and collaborating with Tara Jane ONeil) for an appealing stage presence and glib onstage patter, the encroaching age of Mbilly depends rather more upon a sincere rendering of ever-spreading roots—a spareness of strumming, a simplicity of language, brevity being the soul of Americana—that doesn't ever indulge the self-limitations of authenticity. JAY HORTON. ASH STREET SALOON.
9 Pm
Hey Marseilles
[OF OLD] Baroque bumps these days. Just ask Beirut. This robust family of Seattle musicians is full of ornamentation and triumphant crescendo. Like a scene from a royal family's game room, HM boasts the evocative combination of accordion, strings and charging la-la choruses. Playing this bookish, beautiful and vast music is the quickest way to enter the ranks of nobility. Yet, it's populist and interactive, so prepare your hands for clapping. MARK STOCK. ASH STREET SALOON.
Ah Holly Fam'ly
[ORGANIC ORCHESTRATION] When Portland, and the world, gets a chance to hear Ah Holly Fam'ly's debut disc, Reservoir, later this year, the phrases "Where did this come from?" and "Oh my God!" will be uttered a lot. The local collective makes gorgeous, delicate folk pop that reminds of Return of the Frog Queen-era Jeremy Enigk and some of Olympia's finest exports. Though gentle, orchestrated acoustic pop is a cornerstone of the Portland scene, the Fam stands out for its elaborate arrangements, its members' masterful musicianship and some striking three-part vocal harmonies. CASEY JARMAN. BERBATI'S.
Eluvium
[MUSIC FOR FILMS] Laptop-based music can often be cold and stifling, but don't tell that to Matthew Cooper. Under the guise Eluvium, Cooper uses his computer and guitar to create rich, detailed soundscapes clouded with gorgeous washes of guitar fuzz and buoyant, ambient noise. Cooper hasn't released an Eluvium record in two years, but he just scored Some Days Are Better Than Others, Matt McCormick's new film starring musicians/local heroes James Mercer and Carrie Brownstein. MICHAEL MANNHEIMER. CRYSTAL BALLROOM.
The Mint Chicks
[TROUBLEGUM ROCK] Portland's a fitting home for New Zealanders the Mint Chicks—the band's inherent weirdness works perfectly in the Rose City. Boasting a psychotically kinetic stage show, the trio (all dudes, despite the estro-rific name) blends punk, pop and balls-out rock with a freshness so often absent in modern punk fusion. With schizo time signatures and whiplash changes, the band's digitized sound is so sonically pleasing and unpredictable that it's impossible to form expectations—unless the expectation is frontman Kody Nielson providing rad stage antics. That's a solid bet. AP KRYZA. DOUG FIR.
Local Natives
[GOING BACK TO CALI] Los Angeles is an enormous, sprawling city. So to say that a band like Local Natives sounds like Silver Lake instead of, say, West Hollywood, only makes sense in the context of its sound—one that's rooted in the giddy, youthful hills of East L.A.'s hippest area. Local Natives' debut, Gorilla Manor, is basically a Californian take on Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's jittery rock, infused with sunshine and style that could only come from the City of Angels. MICHAEL MANNHEIMER. HOLOCENE.
Guidance Counselor
[POST-PUNK DANCE PARTY] Mixing clanging, Joy Division-esque guitar squalls with distorted beats and frontman Ian Anderson's impassioned yelp, local party-starter Guidance Counselor hit the sweet spot between '80s pessimism and that dance stuff all the kids love. Formerly Anderson's solo project, Guidance Counselor has expanded this year into a tight, ferocious trio, mixing live drums and bass with booming beats that demand that you get off your feet. MICHAEL MANNHEIMER. ROSELAND.
9 : 30 Pm
Archeology
[INDIE JONES] Much as most recent emigrants record some sort of tribute to their adopted city, Archeology—befitting the slightly proggy underpinnings of the Central Washington trio's restless indie pop—has already released two EPs celebrating (allegorically, at least) Portlandia past and present. Frontmen Daniel Walker and Jason Davis plan to finish another three by the end of the year, and the conceit might seem restricting were the music any less inventive—glockenspiel and French horn flourishes brighten the lyrical gloom. JAY HORTON. DANTE'S.
10 Pm
Black Whales
[GOOD OLD ROCK] Seattle's Black Whales' lo-fi sound is infectious. It's rare when a singer can give both jangly and pure rock spirit to a song and not overbloat the sound with pretentiousness. Combine this talent with laid-back beats, heavy guitar and an overall classic aesthetic and you have a show that shouldn't be missed. Do what I do and sit in the back and pretend you're listening to a bar band from the early '70s. You wont regret it. IAN RASMUSSEN. ASH STREET SALOON.
Tu Fawning
[SPOOKY WONDERFUL] Tu Fawning's debut EP, Secession, was one of the best local releases of 2008. The outfit expertly managed to fuse a number of genres to create a sound that is unique in its own right. The end result is something that is both darkly beautiful and majestic all while maintaining an ever-present discord that keeps the listener uncomfortably enchanted. Never boring, and at moments inspired, Tu Fawning will be sure to get your attention, even if you aren't sure why. IAN RASMUSSEN. BERBATI'S PAN.
Explosions in the Sky
[PYROTECHNIC ROCK] If you've been paying attention to indie rock for the past five years, the name of this Texas group is one that surely has come up on more than one occasion. And for good reason, too, as this quartet has made its name by playing agreeably melodic epics of bombastic rock that ebb and flow like the surf. The band may have settled into a slow-building, quiet-loud-quiet-louder formula, but when it works this well, there's little reason to fuss. ROBERT HAM. CRYSTAL BALLROOM.
Cymbals Eat Guitars
[PERFECT FROM NOW ON] It's OK, Doug Martsch fans: Built to Spill isn't playing this year's fest, but you can still get your nostalgic guitar fix. Staten Island's Cymbals Eat Guitars makes all other guitar-centered rock that's easily coined "epic" or "ambitious" seem, well, kind of bland and regular. The band's debut, Why There Are Mountains, is all trebly guitar solos and dynamic tempo changes, punctuated by some of the best songwriting around. I guess the '90s have lived on. MICHAEL MANNHEIMER. DOUG FIR.
The Entrance Band
[PSYCH OUT!] Guy Blakeslee has made everything from minimal blues to psych rock under the Entrance moniker, but his project's transformation into a trio demanded a name change. The Entrance Band, as it sounds right now, is an impressively heavy psych rock outfit based out of Los Angeles. That could describe a lot of groups, but how many of those groups has Thurston Moore called "the most alluring and, yes, entrancing vibe I've yet to experience in this new age"? Yeah, just one. CASEY JARMAN. HOLOCENE.
Brother Reade
[HIP-HOP] Nerds and MCs are the new odd couple, and Brother Reade follows the mold of pairing a supersonic beat scientist with a rapper whose vocal prowess flows like melted butter. Where Gnarls Barkley ventures into a bizarro playground, Brother Reade MC Jimmy Jamz and beatmaster Bobby Evans bring an old-school L.A. flavor (by way of North Clackalack). With their powers combined, Brother Reade marks another thrilling addition to the neo-Wonder Twin pairing of techie and technique. AP KRYZA. ROSELAND THEATER.
10 : 30 Pm
We Were Promised Jetpacks
[ASCENDING POST-PUNK] Best band name ever? Combining a chronic sense of entitlement with doe-eyed optimism, WWPJ has also got the cultural references down pat: "We are older than Ghostbusters II, we are younger than Ghostbusters," its MySpace page declares. But what of the music? These Scottish rockers make visceral, driven noise with mainstream sensibilities, breaking down and building up in all the right places. The songwriting may be conventional, but there's enough depth and variation to keep us on our toes. Singer Adam Thompson retains his throaty accent while howling lovelorn lyrics, and acoustic moments like "Keeping Warm" highlight gentler melodies. Maybe the band doesn't need jetpacks to soar after all. JENNY BOOTH. DANTE'S
11 Pm
Derby
[COMFORT POP] Sometimes, pop music's job is to reassure us. Portland trio Derby has stepped up to the plate, offering pop so pleasing and comforting that even the prospect of nuclear annihilation seems like an afterthought. Employing call-and-response, clap-along beats and choruses composed of a series of "whoas" and "yeahs," Derby is comfort food. But this meatloaf is made by master chefs. AP KRYZA. ASH STREET SALOON.
Norfolk & Western
[INDIE FOLK] Portland's Norfolk & Western makes me happy. The group's fanciful and melodic brand of indie folk has a tendency to bring out the best in its audiences. Lifting its name from the old railway lines that once stretched the country, NW takes the origins seriously by tethering its sound to simpler times with banjos and accordions—then blending it up with a modern indie-rock guitar feel. The distinctive result never fails to bring a smile to my face. IAN RASMUSSEN. BERBATI'S PAN.
The Depreciation Guild
[GAME BOYS] Acolytes of the earliest components of digitized whimsy as signal instrumentation, well-named Brooklyn duo the Depreciation Guild won critical raves and a devoted national following for its dizzying Nintendo-based 8-bit orchestration of digitized loveliness and despair. Streaming unusually direct vocals above console-gazing soundscapes that bristle all too organically against technological restraints, Kurt Feldman and Christoph Hochheim instill humanity within preternaturally emotive electronics. JAY HORTON. DOUG FIR.
Amazing Baby
[COSMOS AND BEYOND] Amazing Baby's debut, Rewild, was eagerly—and brutally—hyped. "Mark my words, this will be the best album of '09"-style hyped. Uh-oh. But Amazing Baby has the image (headbands, capes), the area code (Brooklyn's) and the hipster contacts (psych buddies MGMT) to deliver. The outfit creates vast, universal tapestries of sound, stretching spacey guitars around fizzing keys. JENNY BOOTH. HOLOCENE
Girl Talk
[GREGG THE RIPPER] Pennsylvania-based laptop magician Girl Talk (known to his mother simply as Gregg Gillis) is not a DJ. Nor is he a mash-up artist—though those are the two labels most often affixed to him after the success of the celebratory pop collages on 2006's Night Ripper and last year's Feed the Animals. Gillis' postmodern confections, which pile recognizable hit song samples on top of one another like a Billboard chart 10-car pileup, defy easy categorization. He isn't simply mixing together other people's tracks—there is original music mixed in as well—nor is his music a novelty act that relishes the coincidental joy of playing two or three songs against one another. A Girl Talk track can feature more than 25 pop single samples from artists as diverse as Wings, Weezer and Weezy—which, as the name of his record label (Illegal Art) makes clear, are not necessarily legally acquired or paid for—spackling singalong, sped-up hooks and pop-tart heavy breathing over heavy hip-hop beats for an always danceable and often poignant effect.. To wit, Biggie's never sounded so grateful for his success as he does when "Juicy" is layered over a chipmunk-voiced version of Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" chorus. And what better way to critique the hollow consumerism of certain rap songs than to marry the earnest, repetitive riff from Temple of the Dog's "Hunger Strike" to Birdman's decadent ode to models and champagne, "Pop Bottles"? Girl Talk's live shows, which feature a deceptively simple setup (it's just Gillis and his trusty computer), devolve into wild bacchanalias with throngs of half-dressed concertgoers joining Gillis onstage as glitter, confetti or balloons rain down on them wildly. Which is not at all a bad way to spend a school night. REBECCA RABER. ROSELAND.
11 : 30 pm
The Twilight Sad
[GREAT SCOTS] These sensitive Glaswegian rockers do their homeland proud, continuing with the lovelorn, plain-spoken lyricism that their country's indie rockers (from Belle And Sebastian to Arab Strap) have long championed. Likewise, frontman James Graham sings with a proudly guttural bagpipe brogue, and Andy MacFarlane follows in the long U.K. tradition of slightly shoegazey, jangly guitar playing. But it's the dramatic crescendos of the Twilight Sad's songs and their hooky, anthemic choruses that truly give the outfit's soaring songs their wings. REBECCA RABER. DANTE'S.
Midnight
The Dimes
[LUCID ROCK] With its subdued melodies and angelic harmonies, Portland quartet the Dimes has risen above its coffee-shop counterparts with its lucid daydream rock. Not content to rely solely on bubblegum lyricism, frontman Johnny Clay spikes his songs, offering darker narratives about tragic deaths and misunderstood lives alongside gentler fare that perks the heartstrings. Whether performing a melodic ditty about execution or true love, the band manages to steer positive, offering a warm sound that captivates from the first note to the explosive crescendo. AP KRYZA. ASH STREET SALOON.
Dirty Three
[INSTRUMENTAL FOLK ROCK AND BEYOND] Australian instrumental trio Dirty Three has been around since 1993, when frontman Warren Ellis first attached a guitar pick-up to his violin at a pub gig in Melbourne. The band has eschewed the bass guitar in exchange for Ellis' fiery violin work ever since, and while distortion and feedback are not words normally associated with classical instruments, Dirty Three has made a career out of combining folk with rock, chamber music with jazz and excitement with virtuosity. After years of worldwide touring, the group has curated an All Tomorrow's Parties festival, collaborating with Cat Power and touring with acts like Sonic Youth, Pavement, PJ Harvey and Devendra Banhart—becoming an international attraction in the process. Which is fitting, as only guitarist Mick Turner still resides in Melbourne. Ellis lives in Paris, and drummer Jim White is in New York. It's a testament to the band's quality and longevity that it continues to function and rock beyond international boundaries or stylistic limitations. NATHAN CARSON. BERBATI'S.
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
[HEART-ON-SLEEVE POP] If the Pains of Being Pure at Heart frontman Kip Berman has a certain affinity for Portland, it isn't just because he was a fan of the Exploding Hearts and Dear Nora. He actually lived here for seven years. "The time I spent in Portland, I think of it as the formative time in my life," Berman says from the road during POBPAH's summer West Coast tour. "When people ask me where I'm from, it's like, I grew up in Philadelphia suburbs, but I always feel like I learned so much about music and everything else living in Portland." Now residing in New York, Berman leads one of the most buzzed-about bands of 2009. POBPAH's trebly, noisy pop draws from a host of '80s inspirations (the Jesus and Mary Chain, the Pastels, Black Tambourine), but it's also informed by shows he saw at the Magic Marker house in Southeast PDX in the early aughts. With one self-titled full-length released earlier this year, the band is looking to branch out a bit with its new EP Higher Than the Stars, which features slower tempos but the same amount of teenage melodrama. "I'm excited to play the new songs live," Berman says. "It's been a good year for us." MICHAEL MANNHEIMER.DOUG FIR.
Edward Sharpe The Magnetic Zeros
[PSYCH POP] Continuing a trend among psychedelic-pop groups, Edward Sharpe the Magnetic Zeros remove the need for you to sing along by doing it themselves. Former Ima Robot frontman Alex Ebert plays the folk clergyman Edward Sharpe (a sort of backwoods Bowie), but the Magnetic Zeros are distinguished from other congregation folk by adding the ominous strings and piano of a lost Ennio Morricone spaghetti Western soundtrack. If they get their due, they'll someday have even more fans than band members. AARON MESH. HOLOCENE.
12 : 30 Am
Frightened Rabbit
[WATERSHIP DOWNSTROKE] Upon the Glasgow indie-pop family tree, Frightened Rabbit springs from the Aztec Camera branch of layered melancholy and irredeemably crap names (see Josef K Franz Ferdinand) and, as such, American audiences and tastemakers have largely ignored the quartet's unabashed sentimentality, acoustic and electric counterpoint riffage and palpable desire to be understood. Second album Midnight Organ Fight—released within a year of the debut—was produced by Peter Katis, knob-twiddler for Interpol and the National, and his touch can be heard throughout the sparse drumming and momentary space 'tween vocals and guitar line. It's only a bit of space, just nearly enough room for the coiling lyrics to hang themselves. But if we've learned anything about Frightened Rabbit, it's that there's value to the briar patch. JAY HORTON. DANTE'S.
WWeek 2015