Local News & Reviews

[October 25th, 2006]

^The Blow Paper Television (K Records)

Duo cuts its happy dance music with angst and weariness for the right prescription.

[ELECTRO-POP] Sometimes—nay, most of the time—I take my shitty moments too seriously. Perhaps I even wallow in them. Perhaps I forget that I'm surrounded by good people, and that, more often than not, those moments are sandwiched between carefree hours. Or, rather, hours that should feel carefree.

I'm prescribing for myself Blow therapy.

Blow therapy is not what you think. Blow therapy focuses on the reintegration of simple enjoyment of the world into the implied cynicism and weariness of living here. The prescribed text is Paper Television, the latest record from the Portland duo of Jona Bechtolt and Khaela Maricich, a.k.a. the Blow.

On first listen, Paper Television carries all the weight of Top 40 dance-pop: The first lines of the first song "Pile of Gold" go something like: "All the girls are sittin' on the pile of gold/ All the girls/ All the boys/ you know want it, want it." (Who's representing now, Pink?) On second listen, it's electro-twee. On the third, fourth and fifth listens, the devastating perfection of the entire album reveals itself, evidence of its greatness found in the intertwined romance of every hook, every beat, and the wit and self-awareness of every line Maricich delivers. But there's more. Beyond the tremendous aesthetic, there is therapeutic depth to this music. Down in the folds of Bechtolt's buoyant, warm laptop productions lurk the threads of angst and world-weariness that would be shameful for an important artist to ignore.

Through the 10 songs of this disc, the duo's fourth full-length, Maricich's lyrics drip with longing and vulnerability (including gratuitous use of the second-person "you"). On "The Big U," it's, "I'd be happy to be let in on your threesome." Or, on the following track, "The Long List of Girls," it's, "I guess I'm on the list of girls/ who love the shit out of you." Through it all, while there's the cloak of happy dance music, there's also a resilient humor: The breakup song "Babay (Eat a Critter, Feel Its Wrath)" is an extended metaphor about getting eaten, digested and finally, flushed—a grand example of not taking your shit too seriously.

—MICHAEL BYRNE

^Blue Skies For Black Hearts Thursday, Oct. 26

Left on his own, leadman Pat Kearns hatches a delicate ode to a broken heart.

[POP] In the midst of heartbreak we often go back to basics, and on the new disc from Pat Kearns' band, Blue Skies for Black Hearts, the songwriter returns to the Beatles' inspiration like it's comfort food.

Just about this time last year, Kearns (who, in addition to leading BS4BH, has produced albums for Exploding Hearts and the Nice Boys, among others) found himself not only heartbroken, but simultaneously band-broken. It figures that when your girlfriend's also the keyboard player, you're looking at a post-breakup lineup change. But when the drummer's also the ex-husband of your now-ex and chooses to take a powder himself to avoid all the drama, you're suddenly short almost half a band. And when the other two members are off touring with their other groups at the same time, you find yourself a very lonely songwriter left to his own devices.

Fortunately for Kearns, those devices included Pro Tools, some vintage gear, that Beatle-friendly melodic ear and a whole raft of ornery emotions itching to be expressed. Plus a couple of those aforementioned Nice Boys nice enough to help out. So, even though the scuttled lineup had an entire, hard-fought, finished album yet to be released, Kearns found himself beginning a brand-new Blue Skies album, eventually aided by the two returning band members, bassist Kelly Simmons and guitarist Michael Lewis, and one new collaborator, drummer/multi-instrumentalist/co-producer Matthew Morgan.

The full-band album, Love Is Not Enough, is out now, as is Kearns' mostly solo turn, Turn the Light Out, which was released in a limited edition despite reminding Kearns of "old love letters you just want to burn." The two discs indeed sound like they're by two versions of the same band—one from our world and the other from that alternate Star Trek universe where Spock has a beard. The earlier work is stiffer, noisier, more aggressive and claustrophobic. The new album, by contrast, is altogether more delicate and melodic—not without anger, but gentle in the way you need to be when your emotions are tender and your only comforts are your music and your cat.

—JEFF ROSENBERG

Blue Skies for Black Hearts plays with Caves and the Dimes at the Doug Fir. 9 pm. $6. 21+.

^Jen Bernard

The organizer of the annual Night of the Murder Ballad reminds us, once again, that everything ends.

[DEATH DITTIES] When you grow up on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, there is really little to do besides drive to a lake, pitch the body of the lover you just accidentally killed into the water and then go home and write a song about it. Or, if you're like the family of local songstress Jen Bernard, you could skip the killin' and just sit around the fire and sing other people's songs about homicide. Not necessarily a normal childhood, but one that Portlanders should be thankful for. Bernard, a bubbly and bright member of the Stolen Sweets and Carmina Luna, has blessed Portland with her family's delightfully gruesome tradition for the past 10 years, hosting an annual Night of the Murder Ballad. This year is the annual event's biggest show ever, at the Aladdin Theater. It's also its last, featuring repeats of the greatest performances. We sat down with Bernard to mourn.

WW: What was the first murder ballad that your dad taught you?

Jen Bernard: One called "Polly Vaughn." We're actually gonna do it this year. It's a really sad song about a hunter who goes out hunting swans with a bow and arrow, and sees a beautiful white swan down at the water's edge, and shoots it. And it turns out that it's his girlfriend—his lover. The love of his life who he was about to ask to marry him, and he kills her. It's kind of an advertisement for the orange vest. It really illustrates how grisly these murder ballads are.

So how did you decide to start doing this 10 years ago?

I was in this old-timey band called the Chamberpot Quartet. And we were doing just a lot of traditional folk tunes and a lot of gospely stuff, some John Hines tunes, and a lot of harmony. The fiddler, Bob, just had this really dark personality, and he was like, "You know, we do a lot of murder ballads, we should just do a murder-ballad night at the Laurelhurst." And we did. And it was a huge hit and there was just such a hunger for it, it's like people have a desire to acknowledge the reality of death.

Why did you decide to end it?

I feel like I want it to go out with a bang rather than a whisper. I don't want it to just be going on and on and on, I want it to go out when it's kind of big and exciting and wonderful.

The Night of the Murder Ballad takes place Friday, Oct. 27, at the Aladdin Theater. For a full list of the night's performers, see Headout, page 52.

—MARK BAUMGARTEN

^Sumara Oct. 21 at Satyricon

Sumara comes full circle with a farewell at Banana's Satyricon, propelled by a surprise cameo from a departed founding member.

[HARDCORE] With 10 total members, five-piece Sumara has had more than its fair share of ex-members in its six-year run. Chad Davis—who left the band to drum for Himsa in 2003—was not at the band's farewell show at Satyricon, which vocalist Jeff "Banana" Urquhart now co-owns, but among a few ex-members in attendance was founding guitarist Ben Fogarty. In 2004, Fogarty reluctantly left the band to devote time to his new wife and child, but on Saturday he was in the front row jumping, waving his fist and banging his head to the music.

A dozen of the previously bored 100 in attendance joined him by the band's second song, "Dead Lock." I didn't recognize the track from the band's 2004 EP Time Destroys All Things for a good minute, as the live sound of the band has matured so much since that recording: It was utterly massive and somehow both rougher and tighter than the already-impressive EP.

Tired of the one-step-forward, two-steps-back cycle of losing members and momentum, the members of Sumara decided to call it quits when longtime hardcore guitarist Josh Musante began to long to play different styles of music. After the show, Fogarty told me he thinks this was the best lineup of the band. Fortunately he got a chance to join them in the 11th hour.

As Banana introduced the last number, "Pale Horse," I was barely able to overhear guitarist Justin Ferry lean over to Fogarty (who was standing next to me) and offer to let him sing the part the former member sings on the recording. Fogarty said he wasn't sure if he still knew the part, but as the band started up, he jumped onstage and, astonishingly, began screaming into the pickups on Ferry's guitar. He then finished the song on a microphone and embraced Banana.

This display prompted a proper circle pit from the crowd, who demanded an encore. Having already played all the material they knew well, Banana warned the crowd, "This is gonna be bad," while Musante walked over to Fogarty and quietly offered his guitar. "I haven't played guitar in over a year," Fogarty reluctantly replied, but in a few moments he was back onstage for "Trust Minus T," my personal favorite Sumara track, which to my ears never sounded better.

—JASON SIMMS

^Viva Voce Get Yr Blood Sucked Out (Barsuk Records)

P-town's matrimonial psych-poppers get (a little too) spaced out on their fourth full-length.

[PSYCH ROCK] When Viva Voce, the husband-and-wife duo of Kevin and Anita Robinson, got signed to one of the Northwest's most respected indie labels last December, fans rejoiced. After all, with 2004's The Heat Can Melt Your Brain—a mixture of ridiculously sexy, smooth 'n' steamy dream-pop and guitar-heavy psych rock—under its belt, an increasingly hypnotic and charming live show, and a deal with Seattle's Barsuk Records (home to the Long Winters, Mates of State, Nada Surf, et al.), Viva Voce was poised for greatness. So, how did an album with such an ass-kicking title, intriguing song names like "Faster Than a Dead Horse" and "We Do Not Fuck Around," and a bitchin' label behind it turn out so boring?

A palm-muted guitar sets the beat on Get Yr Blood Sucked Out's opening track, "Believer," and then a jangly, '60s-ish stomp engages, joined by Anita Robinson's sweet, dreamy repetition of the words, "I'm a believer now." It sounds promising, until the song doesn't go anywhere. The Viva Voce aesthetic—melodic guy/girl vocals, hand-clap breakdowns and infectious pop hooks—used to be combined with the occasional face-melting guitar lead, but now those hooks are forsaken for meandering guitar jams that ultimately lose your attention. This is not to say that Anita doesn't wail with great skill, and certain tracks—like "From the Devil Himself," with its upbeat strumming and Mamas & Papas-esque backing vocals—do shine through the often opaque veil of stoner rock. But many others are lost in the mix, causing the record's fuck-the-Man theme (the same track's video features the couple reenacting John and Yoko's Montreal bedroom protest as a sort of bed-in for musicians' rights) to fall flat, as well.

But the real shame about Get Yr Blood Sucked Out is how it has affected Viva Voce's live show. One of the main joys of a Viva Voce concert has always been witnessing the undeniably magical onstage reciprocity of two excellent musicians who are both lovers and bandmates. But the duo's new songs leave Kevin pounding away at the drums while Anita rips out killer leads—separately. It's perhaps only when the Alabama natives join to introduce the chorus of "We Do Not Fuck Around" with the words, "Hey, y'all," that they come together, and—in a live setting—Kevin's amped-up delivery of the song's kicker, "We DON'T fuck around!" actually kicks ass. But after so many stoner-rock excursions, Viva Voce will be lucky if anyone's focused enough to appreciate it.

—AMY MCCULLOUGH

Viva Voce celebrates the release of Get Yr Blood Sucked Out Saturday, Oct. 28, with Silversun Pickups and the Golden Bears. 9 pm. $12. 21+.