Local News & Reviews

[February 28th, 2007]

Panther

Secret Lawns (Fryk Beat)

[DARK SOUL CRUNCH] I've faulted Panther before for a lack of genuineness. I've commented on his costume-wearing, his spasticity and that unrelenting falsetto; in summation, I've said maybe we should just take the theatrics for what they are and revel in the joke. But just the fact that this solo project of Charlie Salas-Humaras' has existed for six years means something. And Secret Lawns, his follow-up to last year's self-titled EP, means that something is no joke at all.

Watching Panther onstage—or in either of his two perfectly telling videos (three, if you count his standout bit on the Portland Burn To Shine DVD)—is a mesmerizing spectacle, in part because Salas-Humaras hits an escapist nerve that few can: Most of us really want to be able to lose our shit like that. Searching for this energy on record can be something of a red herring, but that's not to say it doesn't ever translate. "You Don't Want Yr Nails Done" is the classic example: The beat is surprisingly contained—based around a machine high-hat and low-end thumps—and the other sounds are limited to background synth rumbles and bloops. The "loss of shit," so to speak, is all in Salas-Humaras' voice: At the thirty-second mark he launches into frantic, possessed vocal beeps that accelerate into even more frantic faux-soul shrieks. Loop and layer them a bit, and you have a nervous breakdown in document.

Elsewhere, the Panther fever is more in check. On opener "Use Your Mouth To Breathe," for instance, the falsetto is actually dropped in favor of straightforward singing during the song's somewhat nonsensical refrains. And just Charlie is kinda weird. Even weirder is what follows: "Here We Stand" and "Take Us Out" sound downright jazzy, all backroom bass and washed-out (live) high-hat. "How Does It Feel?" starts off in a plodding, crunchy techno beat, which barely picks up for the drawn-out "How does it feel/ How does it feeeeel" of the almost piercingly falsetto chorus. Relief finally comes in "Rely On Scent," a wonderfully odd lounge-sleaze throwback.

Much of the disc has these feel-swaps between rough, dark electronic cruch and bizarre (but still electronic) soul-jazz homage. It's so much the cooler for the nearly continuous loop-station self-harmonics. And there's more than just a passing sense that Panther can travel in directions beyond "spaz-soul": In fact, Secret Lawns travels the odd, dim dance floors of the club you never figured could exist until now. —MICHAEL BYRNE.

Panther celebrates the release of Secret Lawns Friday, March 2, with Copy, DJ Brian Foote, Rob Walmart and E*Rock at Holocene. 9 pm. $7. 21+. Also see Riff City.

DarkBlack

Friday, March 2

[TRUE METAL] When DarkBlack vocalist/bassist Tim Smith introduced a song last Friday at Kelly's Olympian by saying, "This one is about dragons," a considerable portion of the audience couldn't help but laugh.

But, according to lead guitarist Ant Crocamo—who, along with Smith, relocated to Portland from Lancaster, Pa., about a year ago—the fantasy elements of the four-piece's Iron Maiden- and Judas Priest-influenced metal aren't meant to be ironic. "I listen to music and watch movies and read books to get away from mundane things, not to wallow in them," Crocamo told WW after his set. "I don't ever want to be in a band where some guy shows up and he's bummed and he's like, 'I wrote this song about my girlfriend,'" said the 25-year-old construction worker. "I don't think there's anything wrong with escapism. Let's get some wizards —what's wrong with that? Reality TV is really big these days, but I don't understand that, either."

So what's his favorite show? "I'd rather see Sanford and Son," said Crocamo. It's somehow fitting that Crocamo would choose a classic program for his favorite, since his band is all about paying homage to the old-school new wave of British heavy metal. In fact, both Crocamo and Smith shy away from more modern power-metal bands like Hammerfall and DragonForce, describing their production and approach as "sterile" and "super-clinical," respectively. Crocamo also mentioned that he's still discovering some of the more obscure classics: "I just heard [German thrash pioneers] Assassin two weeks ago," he said.

But, in many ways, DarkBlack is modest to bow before its predecessors. At Kelly's last week, a lot of the guitar harmonies played by Crocamo and new addition Rob McConlogue seemed more complicated than anything on Iron Maiden's Piece of Mind. And drummer Eben Travis made very respectable use of his two bass drums and single tom. He even drew a couple of guys in from the video-poker room who, in nice, baggy athletic clothes, didn't look like your average metal fans. "I gotta find that drummer," I heard one of them say while scanning the bar after the show.

True to the band's roots, its members are happy just to be playing honest-to-god metal. DarkBlack's debut, The Barbarian's Hammer (recorded in 2004 and 2005 with a previous drummer in Pennsylvania), while impressive compositionally with its seven-plus-minute songs, is no indication of DarkBlack's present live skill. While Crocamo acknowledges that he's not extremely happy with the album anymore, it doesn't keep him up at night: "That's what's cool about doing a metal record," he said. "It's like, even if it's not that great, it's still a metal record." —JASON SIMMS.

DarkBlack plays Friday, March 2, with Portals and DJ Moonchild at Ground Kontrol. 10 pm. $5. 21+. Listen to a track from The Barbarian's Hammer at LocalCut.com.

Saturday Looks Good To Me

Monday, March 5

[EXPERIMENTAL POP] Fred Thomas, the leadman and only constant member of Ann Arbor-based psych-pop band Saturday Looks Good to Me, has been called the Brian Wilson of his generation. And he's put out several albums of sunny guy/girl vocals with lo-fi, experimental, '60s-ish pop that back up that claim. But, with Thomas' relocation to Portland and a new, "perfectly honest" album set for September release on Olympia's K Records, SLGTM is changing its ways.

In the past, Thomas has shared vocal duties with loads of singers including Ted Leo, Tara Jane O'Neil and (most often) Betty Marie Barnes and played live shows with upward of 12 people onstage. Though he still considers the band "completely thrown together," Thomas says the upcoming Fill Up the Room features his lead vocals on almost every track. "I feel like I've got a lot more to say right now," he explains. The switch to more "stretched out" songs and the inclusion of weirder elements like found sounds, tape collages and "things that shouldn't qualify as music" didn't necessarily come easy.

Thomas says he went from ripping off FranÇoise Hardy to recording a whole set of "terrible" songs that got thrown out to thinking he needed to reincarnate Neutral Milk Hotel: "I was like, 'There needs to be another Neutral Milk record; I can make this one,'" he says. "Then I was like, 'That's stupid. There doesn't need to be another anything. I need to make something pure.'" Thus began Thomas' "more personal" songwriting, which he attributes to thinking about art in a different way, a way that "doesn't really involve super-cute songs anymore."

Thomas' move to Portland is part of that change, too. But, oddly enough, it was a chance meeting in Ann Arbor that led him to K's Calvin Johnson. After an "off the cuff" DJ set at a house party, the Beat Happening frontman mentioned he hadn't been in Ann Arbor since 1993, recalls Thomas, "And I was like, 'It was 1992. I was at that show. I was 14 years old. You guys were fucking amazing.'" Thomas says they bickered back and forth, but their "antagonistic" meeting led to friendship and Johnson eventually asking, "You wanna do [Fill Up the Room] on K or what?" Despite being a "big, big, huge" fan of [K artists] Little Wings and the Microphones, Thomas played it cool, saying, "Ah, maybe." On point, Johnson responded, "Cool, whatevs."

Though Thomas says he feels it's the band's best record to date, he is nervous that listeners' first reactions will be "where's the girl?" Regardless, Portland can look forward to one thing for now: SLGTM's unpredictable live shows. "We feel that a band that replicates their album live is really kind of terrible and worthless," says Thomas. "How many bands are there where there's four boys and they record a rock 'n' roll record and play [it] in the order it's recorded?" I'm afraid the answer is a lot, but Portland's certainly happy to have one more band that doesn't. —AMY MCCULLOUGH.

SLGTM plays Monday, March 5, with Ladyhawk and Chris Bathgate at Holocene. 9:30 pm. $6 advance, $7 day of show. 21+. Also see music listings.

David Bowie Tribute Night

Feb. 22 at Doug Fir

[GLAM-ROCK TRIBUTE] The prologue of Stardust: The David Bowie Story (by Henry Edwards) tells a story about several different colleagues from Bowie's past attempting to get backstage at one of his concerts. No matter how significant they believed their relationship to Bowie was, none of them were allowed in, which made them feel hurt and resentful. I always thought these people seemed petty and whiny. Yet, last Thursday night, as I stood frustrated outside a full Doug Fir in line for a Bowie tribute (which included the Sort Ofs, Lael Alderman, The Ones, Jim Brunberg, The Very Foundation and Miraflores), I felt like one of those wannabe losers.

"I'm writing an article on this show for the Willamette Week," I explained to the bouncer. "Well, aren't you special!" he snorted back, refusing my entry. I finally got in, but had unfortunately missed about a third of the show. I created a few categories by which to judge the performances, though, and—of the musicians I did get to see—the following received one of my prestigious "Bowie" awards:

The Best Bowie Style Award goes to Travis Brown of Miraflores. Brown was, amazingly, the only performer to dress the part, and he did it with panache: With his sparkly silver poncho and matching pants, I could've sworn—after consuming a couple bottles of Lagunitas and squinting my eyes—that he was the Thin White Duke himself. And, with his elbow-length black hair, Brown's not exactly a dead ringer.

The Best "Rebel, Rebel" Attitude Award, though, goes to the Ones. This local retro-rock quartet not only played "Rebel, Rebel," but its members looked incredibly badass in their leather jackets, and copped some serious attitude with the sound guy to boot. The Ones even casually puffed cigarettes on the stage of the nonsmoking venue. Oh, hot tramps, I loved you so!

Finally, the Bowie Lifetime Achievement Award for all-around Best Cover, Best Performance and Best Drunken Singalong goes, hands down, to the Sort Ofs. Chris Robley and company offered a stunning rendition of "Under Pressure," and Robley's voice shined so triumphantly I'm sure he would have made both Bowie and the late, great Freddie Mercury proud. In fact, if Robley and percussionist John Stewart (the Sort Ofs' founding members) continue to play music with the same charisma and passion they put forth last Thursday, it may soon be their own prog-pop outfit that draws lines stretching around the block—and wannabes banging at the back door. —DEVAN COOK.

Miraflores plays Friday, March 2, at Mississippi Studios with the Dimes and Day of Lions. 10 pm. $7 advance, $8 day of show. 21+. Also see music listings, page 52.

Main Sequence

The Ownership Society (Bridgetown Breaks)

[POSTMODERN HIP-HOP] I don't really know what to call MacGregor Campbell (a.k.a. Main Sequence) of Bridgetown Breaks Records. Composer? Curator? Producer? DJ? As the man behind the sample-fueled The Ownership Society, a schizophrenic album that orbits crookedly around themes of conspiracy theory and bad government, he's all of those things.

Similar in feel to DJ Shadow's famed Entroducing, The Ownership Society (which is named, Campbell says, after "a re-contextualized buzz phrase from Bush's attempt to get rid of Social Security") is a collage of old radio, film and television voices that act as mouthpieces for the artist's own feelings. And, also like Entroducing, Sequence uses those disembodied voices to cut through spacey, soundtrack-worthy instrumentals. Taken individually, the vocal samples often seem random: They range from comically outdated (a radio personality asking, "Does my TV set use more electricity than an electric chair?") and creepy (an audibly shaken dude explaining with fervor, "You and I can be happy—not just now, but for the next 20 minutes") to mysterious ("For 3,000 years, men gazed at the far-off moon, and dreamed of going there someday"). Despite Sequence's tendency to thematically wander ("Atlanta" seems to be about mind control, then makes gratuitous mention of "chicken burgers" and "almost indecently perfect pancakes"), Society remains coherent—if only in its disorder.

A real, live MC, Loc Thiese, is featured on "Look" and "Pay to Play," but even Thiese's rhymes are random—much like the sampled personalities that precede and follow him. Spouting conspiracy theories on California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and Enron over soulful harp tones or fuzzed-out, bunker-busting machinery beats, Thiese does keep in line, however, with Society's general tone of discontentment. In fact, it's only on instrumental-leaning tracks like "Fader" and "Untitled"—which pair multiple clean drum breaks with melodic, muted strings—that Sequence offers brief escapes from a pervasive dissatisfaction with his government and countrymen.

Puppeteer. Maybe that's the best title for Main Sequence, who speaks vicariously through his splintered, sound-bitten victims, transforming them from forgotten fragments of pop culture into unwitting spokespersons for the coming revolution. Regardless of his title, schizophrenic times demand schizophrenic art: In that respect, Main Sequence is among the masters. —CASEY JARMAN.

The Ownership Society came out Tuesday, Feb. 27.