Photos by Jordan Strong and Clara Ridabock

Well, here ya go. The third and final day of the 2008 PDX Pop Now! festival was also the most physically draining for me. Flying off too much caffeine and an average of four hours of sleep a night, I barely made it on Sunday afternoon. I also took less notes—both in reaction to the extreme illegibility of some of the pages and the inevitable come-down late in the afternoon—and tried to spend more time engaging in the music and hearty conversations with friends. I hope this whole project doesn’t appear to be too self-indulgent, because that really wasn’t my intent going in. Looking back on my first two entries, I might have been a little bit too idyllic in my descriptions, and it’s not like everything was perfect; sound problems (usually feedback from a mic or low vocals in the mix) plagued a number of sets, a few artists were cut short because of the delays that come with trying to coral so many bands into two small stages, and the Gatorade jugs filled with water ran out (what seemed like), oh, every hour or so. But despite any drawbacks (namely: an intense hunger and serious lack of sleep) I can safely and confidently assert that this was one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long, long time. A huge and heartfelt thanks to everyone who helped me out this weekend, including the gregarious and insatiable PDX Pop board (especially Cary and Ebeth), our two photographers Jordan and Clara, Asher and Robin for the live footage [coming soon! –Ed.], Tony, Nick, Benna, Arya, Casey and all the amazing musicians who made it possible for all of us to witness 51 (!) bands perform in something like 55 hours. I can’t wait till next year.

8:45 am – Anyone who questions my resolve, consider this: I’m awake now less than five hours after I collapsed in bed despite the fact that my legs feel like a bucket of watermelon jello and my body is caked in about 15 layers of sweat. First I need a shower. I put on the new Starfucker seven inch and dance to “Burnin’ Up” before hitting the road for a cup of joe.

10:45 – Well, at least I got this right—the egg and veggie breakfast sandwich I’m eating is doing wonders for my moral resolve. The tomatoes! So fresh. The biscuit! So fluffy. I tend to get extra hyperbolic when I’m tired, and this morning is no different. The three cups of coffee I’ve consumed, however, aren’t helping much. I still feel like I just played an intramural rugby game against the rock gods.

12:05 pm – I make it to the outside stage just in time for the start of Wooden Indian Burial Ground’s quick set. Unfortunately, I spend the whole thing sitting down against the back wall frantically finishing my day two report and trying to tie a few loose ends together. I’m not picking up the wireless outside—let’s hope I don’t butcher more than a few names.

12:40 – I put down my bag and make a beeline straight to the front of the stage to see one of my favorite bands in Portland, World’s Greatest Ghosts, blast its infectious and Moog-laden synth-rock (emphasis on the “rock”) to a fairly decent early afternoon crowd. WGG kind of got the shaft on the schedule, but they sure didn’t take it lightly; in fact, the band sounds even better coming out of a quality sound system and a huge stack of speakers. Every time I see them I just can’t ignore the Wolf Parade comparisons that are so easy to make, but this band is that good. I shout out the lyrics to “On the Shore” as Arya furiously pounds on my shoulders.

1:13 – I finally finish my previous post and get the text saved—now I just need to find some time this afternoon to get the pictures all set. Phew.

1:22 – For playing a show after an 11-hour drive from Missoula, Meth Teeth somehow manage to put on a nice little set. Ringing, plangent guitar goodness that surely sounds better in a stuffy dive bar.

1:32 – “Thanks, we are Meth Teeth from Portland, OR,” singer Matty Huberley opines. “Sorry, we’ve been saying that for the last 27 days.”

1:35 – Jesus, what’s the smell? I guess you gotta clean up a row of porta-potties sometime.

1:59 – I was wondering how Podington Bear (the just-unmasked solo project of Hush record’s founder Chad Crouch) would translate his “instrumental, incidental, elevator music” to stage for the first time. And not surprisingly, he enlisted the help of a few friends for a participatory set that served as a giant platform for some of the city’s best singers and musicians to awkwardly stumble through a few karaoke classics.

2:17 - Adam Shearer from Weinland brings the house down (or at least the few braving the mugginess inside) with a spot-on cover of “Rocket Man.” I knew dude could do a good Neil Young, but singing the Elton John classic and donning some flamboyant guitar-shades? Priceless.

2:29 – Maybe Dave Depper will invite me as a special guest to a Hush karaoke party. PDX Pop board member Ross Beech steps up to the mic and does an admirable job on New Order’s “True Faith.”

2:57 - Grouper’s Liz Harris is sitting down cross-legged on the stage holding her guitar in her lab, surrounded by a few effects pedals in front of her feet. I’ve been meaning to listen to her new record for weeks, and this is a good introduction, all gorgeously warm and hazy waves of treated guitar and breathy vocals. Cary was right with 4AD reference. I wish I had a few more bucks so I could pick up her record.

3:13 – The entire crowd, which grows in numbers throughout the set, is overwhelmingly respectful and huddled silently around the stage. I’m continually amazed at how much attention people here are willing to listen to what amounts to outside music—and as Arya says, even the punk kids are down.

3:36 – “It’s a free show, I hope you don’t expect much.” Mattress takes the stage after a few minutes spent tinkering with the outputs for his “tapes” that produce all the music you hear behind him. “The music is lost,” he says. “We’re trying to find the music!”

4:00 – I mentioned this in my share of the LocalCut staff preview, but you really need to experience Mattress live. Anyone doubting the whole one-man-band shtick will seriously lose their mind at just how intense and dead on this guy is. Every song is a torch song, eclipsing its predecessor in intensity before he grabs a harmonica to wail into his mic during penultimate number “El Dorado.” This guy makes writing about music so easy.

4:22 – I wander outside, still in a bit of a Mattress shell-shock, and notice a brunette in a light blue dress that is a serious doppelganger for my ex-girlfriend. I see her EVERYWHERE and it still freaks me out every time. I get a wee bit sad for a second, and then straighten up—Cower is next!

4:24 – COWER RAWWWW GNARL SHRED SHRED GNARL RAWWWW. I probably wouldn’t listen to this on a daily basis, but I have to admit an affinity for the young hardcore punk scene we’ve got here. When they eventually slow down for a second things sound ever better—thick, sludgy, and full of true emotion.

4:36 – Josh Hodges (Starfucker) arrives plugging his ears but is still visibly into it.

5:01 – A daily diet of carrots and donuts from the green room is just not enough. I’m tired and hungry and I just want to lay down for a bit. Experimental Dental School sound pretty rad—and very Deerhoof-ish— but I just have to take it easy for a bit. My body wins this round.

5:20 – Fuckin’ A. I’ve hit the wall. I’ll make it through the night, but after three days of treating my body like crap I’m feeling the negative side effects. Ugh.

5:21 – I just do a double-take and check my notebook, and my inane scribbles look worse than the time in 2nd grade when I was forced to write with my left hand after I lost part of my middle finger in a freak sewer-grate accident (ask me another time about that). Tomorrow is going to be rough.

5:35 – THANK GOD FOR CHOCOLATE DONUTS. AND WRITING IN ALL CAPS IN MY NOTEBOOK EVEN THOUGH I HAVE NO REASON TO DO SO.

5:41 – Bark Hide and Horn intro with a brief snippet of Bob Dylan’s “When the Ship Comes In” that segues into “Grandfather,” probably my favorite track from its about to be released record National Road. They need to turn Andy Ferguson’s vocals up, but I gotta give some props where they are due—what a perfect band for this time slot.

5:55 “Peter’s on power bass tonight,” laughs Ferguson after a heavy does of feedback detaches from Peter Valois’ bass.

6:03 – “Ya know when sometimes you are complicit with the world’s evils, but you still wanna get laid? That’s what this song’s about.” Bark Hide and Horn sure know what’s up. Ferguson’s almost out of breath from shout-singing so much. I love these guys.

6:10 – Whoah! Where’s that music coming from? Just a minute or so after Bark Hide and Horn finish a band (later revealed to be Why I Must Be Careful) begins playing some weird keys and drums experimental jazz about a block behind the outdoor stage on the loading dock. An impromptu show! Add another one to the list.

6:20-6:38 – I sit down at the KPSU booth with my laptop to post my diary and photo slideshows from Saturday. In the name of LocalCut I regrettably remain hunched over my computer for the first two songs of A Weather’s set, but jeez, they sound almost note-perfect. Cove has been on constant rotation for a few months and this surely will end up a highlight of the weekend for me.

7:18 – I update the post and add Arya’s father-like musings on his favorite bands all grown up. I haven’t seen Brian Mumford play as Dragging an Ox Through Water in almost two years, and the few new tracks he plays sound great—more driving and urgent that his older tunes. All that static and feedback sound great in the back of the room.

7:30 – Mumford mentions that his new record is coming out in October. It’s going to be a great fall for local releases.

7:44 – Okay, shit. I’m really hungry. I try eating a few carrots and a cake donut in the same bite. Kids, don’t try this at home.

7:46 – The girl sitting alone on the curb is reading J. D. Salinger’s Franny and Zooey. She looks to be about 18 years-old. I nod and smile in approval.

7:58 – Arya somehow has found a box of cupcakes and is handing them out. My friend Raf says he hates cupcakes, and I don’t think he’s joking. He’s got a point, though.

7:59 - Cupcakes = gentrification. I just had to say it.

8:05 – JonnyX and the Groadies really brought it. They’ve been playing the same video-game death metal for 15 years, and tonight they even managed to sneak a pawnshop Coldplay light show to the Rotture. I mention something to Arya about how the quiet part of its song is like when you get to the end of the dungeon but then AHHH a dragon jumps out and crushes everything in your path. Grumble, grumble.

8:30 – I was wondering what the booze-rock of Pure Country Gold would sound like outside of a bar (and on an outdoor stage) but dudes are totally killing it.

8:34 – Raf turns to me smiling and says, “these guys are so gross!” And he totally means that as a compliment.

9:06 – I try to say hi to Jesse and Emily Laney from World’s Greatest Ghosts but am interrupted by a fan asking what band they are in. “I saw you at the Hawthorne theater,” she says. Oh god.

9:15 – Eat Skull is (big surprise) totally wasted, and while I love the band’s ultra low-fi tunes, I have to admit that they were much better—and clearly more in their element—at the Twilight Café and all the other dive bars that serve the Eat Skull sound so well.

9:22 – “This song’s for all the Obama Republicans, and it’s called ‘Dead Families.’” The band sure doesn’t lack any charm.

9:38 – Whaddyaknow, we have our second guerrilla show of the night. Rainbow and the Kittens [Which also crashed last year's pop fest—maybe next year they'll be officially invited! -Ed.] is playing in the same spot as the previous non-billed band. I count 13 members onstage, with instruments both traditional (guitar, bass, mini drum-kit) and silly (a rainstick!). They are all dressed in ridiculous costumes—Santa hats, Afros, a unicorn head—and I spot the guy with the crazy facial hair who played with Dykeritz appearing as the band’s leader. It’s all good in a rickety, dirty kind of way, like when your adult costume party turns into the inevitable drunken jam session complete with wine-bottle percussion and two strangers making out.

9:52 – White Fang likes to fuck shit up. They also play with this amazing cathartic energy—it’s all teenage frustration spilling out over percussion led songs about going upstairs for breakfast (the appropriately titled “Breakfast”) and eating your green beans.

9:55 – Adam Forkner (White Rainbow) is onstage and not really playing much of anything; instead, he’s here to keep everyone in line and to make sure nobody in the band destroys anything, repeatedly helping people up and redistributing drums. Thanks, dad.

9:57 – White Fang’s Tyler Bristow throws the cigarette he’s barely smoked into the crowd.

10:28 – Soul-goddess Liv Warfield is totally winning the initially skeptical crowd over. “I want you to wrap your mind around this,” she sings. “The only thing I want in my life is decent music.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

10:36 – I recognize this riff! It’s a Stones cover! The Liv Warfield Experience blasts into an incredible version of “Gimme Shelter” that has everyone totally up in arms. I look at Cary and nod my head. Then the guitar player shoots off a two-minute solo. Sorry everyone else—I think this is the best cover song of the weekend.

10:48 – My friend Kiera: “She’s like a motivational funk singer!”

11:12 – After taking a much needed break sitting down I run outside to see Rob Walmart (of Marriage records lore) play some jams out of the back of a white van. I think we’re going to pass the half-century mark.

11:20 – I make it back inside just in time for the start of Sandpeople. They are great, as expected, with 10 members taking turns hopping up to the front of the stage to take the lead. I’m tired though, and it takes the encouragement of Bark Hide and Horn’s Andy Ferguson to get my hands in the air.

11:37 – Sandpeople leaves the stage tossing CD’s into the crowd, and a serious mob of folks up front love it.

12:14 am – Every time I see Norfolk & Western I forget how much they rock. Adam Selzer sure can conduct a symphony of feedback from his guitar. The first two songs they play just shake my core. Selzer’s guitar playing really reminds me of Ira Kaplan from Yo La Tengo, and the louder N&W songs have the same drony-pop sensibilities of classic Yo La Tengo.

12:27 – Thump, thump, THUMP. Rachel Blumberg: “Well I guess we can hear what’s going on upstairs.” Norfolk play a new song that I think is called “Opinion” that has a great bouncy bassline.

2:35 – Carey Clarke hops onstage to help second guitarist Chris Robley strap on his instrument. I have no idea how he still has this much energy left after three days; me, I can barely jot anything down at this point.

12:37 – Dave Depper subs his bass for a guitar and rips a pretty killer solo on a cover of the Velvet Underground’s “What Goes On.” I remember seeing Built to Spill cover this years ago at the Crystal. So many and classic covers this weekend. And the self-titled VU is totally my favorite Lou Reed record.

12:50 – The crowd is noticeably thinner for the last act of the night, but a few New Bloods diehards are still here and spastically dancing.

1:16 – Last song! I say that with a hint of sarcasm and a lot of bleary-eyed tiredness. It has been a long weekend. But I work up the will to dance one last time. New Bloods have cassette tapes for sale, which makes me like them even more. I guess they never read the New York Times article.

1:30 – Well, I did it. I never really doubted myslef (okay, for a few minutes) but it was still a rocky—and hopefully endearing—endurance test. I say my final goodbyes, and head back for the night. My knees hurt like hell. My hearing is shot. But it was all worth it. See you next year.

Sunday PDX Pop Extras:

Arya Imig’s Sunday “Legends in the Making”:

Sunday was quite the day, and it feels pretty impossible to narrow down the many highlights to any one theme. There are probably two performances, though, that will go down in legend.

“Are you handing me broken things or working things? ” said Cary Clarke at the side of the outdoor stage, following White Fang’s maniacally chaotic world-folk-punk set. White Fang made the most of playing on the biggest stage they’ve ever played, with three drummers and eight or so core members, though fans and friends(Did anyone see White Rainbow’s Adam Forkner push frontman Erik Gage to the top of an amp and find any metaphor in that?) mobbed the stage, including Sweeping Exits’ Sean Archer, who gave a tongue in cheek explanation for his bass drum wielding antics: “I just wanted to see if anybody could be in White Fang.” Those members who weren’t tied to their drum kits (roving congo man Tyler Bristow, cigarette dangling from his mouth, had the good fortune to have his drum strapped to his waist) ran back and forth on stage running into each other, knocking each other over. Gage, prince of the lost boys, dove into the sea of people at the front of the stage like a rocket porpoise with a purpose not once, but twice. People in the back of the crowd kept asking “Where’s the guitarist?!” as axeman Kyle Handley held court on the ground in front of the stage, causing heart palpitations and insurance numbers to run through the heads of PDX Pop Now organizers. The best part, though, might have been seeing the wide grins on the faces of Brian Mumford (Dragging An Ox Through Water) and Peter Burr (Hooliganship) in the crowd. “We just got back from tour,” said Gage. “It’s great to be home. Buy our CDs, we gotta pay the rent or we’ll get evicted.” There might be any number of people who would take the them in.

Are you experienced? If you haven’t seen the Warfield Experience, you probably aren’t. In what was most likely the best one-two punch of the festival, The Warfield Experience’s inspirational and eclectic set following White Fang’s was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen by anybody anywhere, and that’s saying something. The set started with one of the best sound checks of the festival, after which I launched into a hyperbole saying so, and I meant every word of it. I kept trying to explain to Doug Misner that these guys were, like, no offense to everybody else who played, but these guys are like musicians, no, no, I mean like, these guys are professionals. I couldn’t quite find the words, but Doug understood. One of the most mind blowing moments of the night came when I took a quick break from the intensity of the set during a slower middle number to catch some fresh air outside, and suddenly heard the opening riff of The Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter.” “Are you fucking kidding me?,” I said to the friend I was chatting with. I ran inside and stood at the side of the stage peeking through the bars, mouth agape with fellow KPSU DJ/PDX Pop Now booking committee member Nick Johnson. Do you have any idea how much balls it takes to cover this song, and how much talent it takes to pull it off? I have often thought of Merry Clayton’s earth shattering guest performance on the original recording track as being like the voice of Mother Earth shouting down Mick Jagger’s destroyer devil. On Sunday night, Liv Warfield (who attended PSU on a track scholarship, and it shows) played both parts and she aced it. The Warfield Experience were punk, they were soul, they were funk, they were gospel, they were rock, they were great and if you missed it, good luck.

Wow. What a weekend. Thanks for letting me be a part of all this. See you soon. Love, Arya

Links:
PDX Pop Now!
PRA