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Darkness, Take My Band
The Formless' stark and brutal rock world.
No one's ever going to accuse Portland guitar-drum duo the Formless of being "upbeat."
"We're definitely a dark band," drummer Chelsea Mosher says. "Both the lyrics and the aesthetics of the music lend themselves to a dark, maybe even Gothic, reading."
"Gothic." I like that. Because even though the Formless' yelps, groans and breathy intimations reek of despair and misplaced desire, even though their blend of spare, truncheonlike rhythms and weighty chunks of atonal guitar noise fight the impulse to "groove" with fang and claw, this band has always struck me as being sort of...well, romantic. So are they?
"Romantic?" ponders Mosher. "As in, navigating an old creaky, clipper ship through a particularly horrendous storm and being spit out at the end into the most tranquil of waters?"
Sure.
"Then, yes."
Whew. Instrumentation aside, no one who has seen a Formless show or had a few words with the band would ever accuse them of being simple in approach or concept. Guitarist Brendan Clenaghen and Mosher studiously grind down a bleak, aggressive swath of art-rock. In an aural vortex of harsh ambiguity, the Formless creates. And as its name deliberately implies--trust me--there is a sense of boundlessness in the music, something immediate, disjointed and surreal.
When asked about the searing guitar synth he uses to flay the edges of many of the Formless' songs, Clenaghen describes the effect as like an "electronic whirlpool," or an "an attacking army of miniature jets."
Mosher, in turn, sails on with even more nautical imagery when asked whether her primitive drumming style is deliberate or simply reflects a lack of formal training. "Deliberate," she says. "The drumming is both the storm pounding at the ship and the ship--and crew--pounding back at the storm."
Both members comment on the band's use of "noir fairy tale" imagery in their lyrics and note how these images appear in their music as part of a constantly shifting nonlinear narrative.
To hear the Formless talk is heady stuff. Live, though, they back up their intellectualism with an overwhelmingly feral vibe. Both members nod in agreement when I remind them that another WW writer has already tagged them as "animalistic."
"It's a description we like quite a bit," says Clenaghen. "It refers to something base, untarnished or pre-linguistic, all elements that can be related to something formless." Sam Dodge Soule
The Formless plays Thursday, Oct. 10, at Blackbird, 3728 NE Sandy Blvd., 282-9949. El Guapo, Point Line Plane and Janet Pants Dans Theeatre also appear. 9 pm. $6.
PREVIEW
All Hail the Prince(s) of Wales
Super Furry Animals are here to conquer.
There ought to be a single word to describe the music of the Super Furry Animals--possibly one of those Welsh words, 85 letters long and short on vowels, that sound like miniature songs in themselves.
If there's a Welsh word that incorporates brilliantly buffed pop hooks, unexpected funky breaks, maddeningly clever wordplay, brutally crunchy electronica and a butter-smooth psychedelic mellowness that practically begs you to pass the spliff, that would be a start. Ideally, lead vocalist Gruff (pronounced "Griff") Rhys, who's sexy enough to make Tom Jones irrelevant and clever enough to make even the most cynical hipster crack a smile, would sing out that magic word. Still, any one of the Welsh Animals--synths-'n'-samplers whiz Cian Ciaran, bassist Guto Price, drummer Daffyd Ieuan or guitarist Huw Bunford--could probably fake it well enough after a few pints.
The Furries' latest genre-hopping release, Rings Around the World, has the jaded music press by the short hairs, gleefully squashing together Crosby, Stills and Nash, E.L.O., Arling & Cameron, Motörhead and Wings. And that's with only one song, the mind-bending "Receptacle for the Respectable." The next song, "A Touch Sensitive," is the kind of head-nodding, bust-your-subwoofer groove Dr. Dre hasn't been capable of since the good ol' days of "Gin & Juice." The U.S. release of Rings comes with an additional five-song disk, supposedly more attuned to the tastes of American audience. Still, the exquisite "Tradewinds" and "Roman Road" are very different from anything I've heard Americans listening to since the drowsy, hazy, summer-soaked days of 1970s FM radio.
If audiences are lucky, they'll be treated to classic ragers like "Ysbeidiau Heulog," "Man Don't Give a Fuck," "Wherever I Lay My Phone (That's My Home)," or "Gwreiddiau Dwfn." If nothing else, expect a couple of hours of musical mastery and radical politics served up with acerbic wit and groovy eye candy. SFA OK! Jemiah Jefferson
The Super Furry Animals play Friday, Oct. 11, at Berbati's Pan, 231 SW Ankeny St., 248-4579. 8:30 pm. $14.
What, us worry?
MUSIC and MIGHTLIFE NEWS, GOSSIP, OPINION
HISS and VINEGAR
DAMN GOOD REASON NEVER TO SIGN TO A MAJOR LABEL #102938
Americans sentient around the turn of the century probably have "Zoot Suit Riot," by Oregon's own Cherry Poppin' Daddies, seared into their brains. Steve Perry's band turned an oft-forgotten 1940s race riot, a plummy vocal and a retro-jazz hook into the '90s swing craze's signature smash. Though the song long ago faded from the airwaves, "Zoot Suit Riot" and the likewise titled album live on in that special realm, destination of so many pop hits--litigation!
Perry is suing three record companies, claiming they're stiffing him for a cool quarter-mil in royalties on Zoot Suit Riot. Plus, he contends they scammed him into signing away rights to ZSR by promising to release a subsequent Daddies album, then never doing so.
The story behind the suit seems yet another indication that the Industry is populated by slime-coated weasels.
According to his attorney, in 1997 Perry signed a distribution deal for Zoot Suit with Mojo Records. Soon, Mojo sold its entire catalog to a company called ZMJO. Then, ZMJO punted its entire catalog to titanic Bertelsmann Music Group. A few years later, in accordance with the original contract and industry standards, Perry audited ZSR's sales.
Surprise, surprise....
"Every time you do a royalty audit, you find the label owes the artist money," says Anthony E. Davis, Perry's attorney from new-jack Portland firm Davis Dixon Kirby. "Typically the artist will then say, 'You owe us X,' and the label says, 'How about we pay you Y,' and the artist settles for something in between. It usually doesn't turn into litigation because there are significant disincentives and costs for artists to sue, even if their claims are valid."
Ah, American justice. Perry's case is even weirder, though, because the three companies involved haven't even flopped an offer on the table. Davis surmises they're having a hard time figuring out which of them owes what. Though he can't predict what the companies ultimately will do, Davis guesses they'll come up with an offer soon, so they don't each have to shell out for a team of trial lawyers.
Beyond the "Zoot Suit" case, Davis' firm, founded in mid-July, aims to build a practice around intellectual-property matters and performers' rights, along with other aspects of sports and entertainment legal beagledom.
"I want to fight the good fight for artists," Davis says.
ANTI-VIOLENCE CAMPAIGN SETS PSU CONFAB
After a fight at Ohm caused the club to cancel the popular weekly Luv Jonz live hip-hop and poetry night, drummer Dave Parks decided something needed saying. The result: a campaign looking to raise awareness of club violence's impact on the music scene.
Parks says it's a complicated situation involving club owners, cops, music fans, the state liquor commission, and public and bureaucratic perceptions. But the bottom line, he says, is this: When fights break out at clubs (particularly hip-hop clubs or places serving a minority clientele), music tends to end. Clubs close or change format. So Parks has printed up a couple thousand posters bearing the slogan "TAKE IT OUTSIDE," urging clubgoers to consider their behavior. He's also organized a public forum, scheduled for the Smith Center on Portland State's campus, for Sunday, Oct. 27, at 5 pm. Watch this space for updates.
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WWeek 2015