They were the first independent, all-female, all submission-based internet radio station to go live on August 22, 2000, and Portland-based Church of Girl Internet Radio Station founders Mary Ann Naylor and Chris Massey are still streaming.
Church of Girl's Mary Ann Naylor and Chris Massey
The world’s largest internet radio network, Live365 features more than 6,000 radio stations, 260+ genres of music produced by 7,000+ broadcasters and musical tastemakers from over 150 countries streaming music to millions of unique listeners.
Of the 6,000 Live365 stations streaming today, only 129 of them launched 10 years ago when Live365 came into existence. Portland’s own Church of Girl Radio is among those inaugural broadcasters. Conduct a quick search of “women stations” on Live365 today and the results will yield 823 stations, but in the year 2000, Church of Girl was the first, and only, independent, all-female internet radio station with a mission to “celebrate the act of creating and stand against the culture industry” while giving female-fronted bands a platform to reach a global audience.
Anyone with a computer and internet connection can create his or her own internet radio station with minimal cost and effort, but what makes this radio station compelling are the operators: Mary Ann Naylor, a native of Newport on the Oregon coast; and Chris Massey, a transplant from Illinois. The two met in graduate school pursuing their advanced degrees in Sociology and bonding over their shared areas of concentration–studies on gender, deviance and social constructionism.
Naylor and Massey, 1999
Naylor, who held an undergraduate degree in Political Science also found the time to obtain a certificate in Women’s Studies while pursuing her graduate course of study. It was that unique combination of disciplines that would ignite an awareness in her about how society lets women have their bodies, their looks and their relationships, but ultimately limits and controls their power in the world. “My course of study made me aware of it and life confirmed it,” recalls Naylor.
After completing their degrees, Naylor and Massey made the move from Carbondale, IL to Atlanta, GA in 1994. Massey to put his undergraduate Marketing degree to good use working for Turner Broadcasting, and Naylor dipping her toe into the internet. At this time in internet history, the first bit of SPAM was detected in a USENET Newsgroup, online service providers such as AOL and CompuServe began to take off, and Microsoft took note.
During this time in the Atlanta music scene, one particular DJ at WRAS 88.5, Anna Banana, would make a huge impact on the couple. “When we were in Atlanta, we were exposed to a great college radio station. Anna Banana was one of the DJs and through her, we first heard Sleater-Kinney, Buffalo Daughter, Team Dresch, Tuscadero, The Ladybug Transistor, and The Josephine Wiggs Experience. Anna was good about playing female vocalists, that’s how we got turned on to these amazing bands,” shared Massey. With so many of these bands coming from the Northwest, Portland eventually drew them in.
“Within two weeks, we had each lost our jobs. Chris was downsized when Turner Broadcasting merged with Time Warner, and I had worked myself out of a job having set up my boss, an antiquities broker who sold significant pieces of history, with an internet presence. My boss was so pleased with the potential of the internet, he decided to abandon the storefront and operate his business out of his home,” remembered Naylor.
Ladyfest Badge
Without jobs and with no particular place to go next, the two decided to venture back to Naylor’s Northwest roots–to Portland. “When we came out here we were primed. I remember going to Music Millennium for the first time and coming out of there with 15 CDs. As music lovers, we already had a list of artists and labels that we wanted to seek out. The Olympia scene was happening with K Records, Kill Rock Stars and Yoyo Recordings; Chainsaw Records in Portland; and music festivals that started with the International Pop Underground Convention in ‘91, and Yoyo a Go Go. I feel like we hit that scene at its peak. I remember the 5-day festival at the Capitol Theater–seeing Sleater-Kinney headline, Elliott Smith play and even Rebecca Pearcy (of Portland’s Queen Bee) perform. Rebecca was just this girl that had a guitar and they let her play,” reminisced Massey.
“That was the spirit of Olympia that was alive–it’s the birth place of Riot Grrrl, you didn’t have to be a rock star, it was all about picking up a guitar and making music for your friends, for each other and creating a culture vs. buying one,” claimed Naylor.
“The name Church of Girl actually came about because we wanted performance artist Miranda July to officiate our wedding, but she was not ordained. I worked with someone who had started a church so that he could ordain a friend to marry him, so we were exploring that possibility. We already had the icon–a painting of a nude woman on a small block of wood–that we called “Girl.” We had all these crazy ideas of what we were going to do with her–put her on t-shirts, worship her–we had the name, but no purpose. Girl was also symbolic, like when you are a child and anything is possible,” said Naylor.
“For 11 months, we developed the ‘performance’. At the same time, we also had a vision of being part of an artistic women’s community, but we weren’t sure how we fit in. Ladyfest brought it all together. We were married in July of 2000 and took our honeymoon at Ladyfest in Olympia, WA. The outpouring of love, support and enthusiasm for women’s music and art–the spirit of community–it was immense; we were compelled to find a way to advance the mission. Miranda helped come up with the name, and we thought there was no better name for a shrine of inspiration for female music and art than Church of Girl,” stated Massey.
“The first version of www.churchofgirl.com was launched in August 2000. When we got back to Portland from Ladyfest, we took a renegade approach to get those artists out there. Somehow Chris had found out about Live365 and back then, they offered 365 MB of free space to have your own radio station. On August 22nd, 2000, we launched the radio station,” commented Naylor.
In 2001, Betty Ray, one of Live365’s editors, picked Church of Girl as one of the Editor’s Picks to feature. That little bit of attention was enough to put Church of Girl on the map. “Immediately, we got a package from Geffen with CDs from a band called Start, and another little known band called Garbage. We then received a package with artists from Australia. It dawned on us, we are receiving this and we are not even soliciting, there might be a need for this kind of station. Lilith Fair was getting so much attention we just thought there were all these other artists making all kinds of music and there was NO space for them–particularly for women in punk. Women were getting a small piece of the pie no matter what,” declared Naylor.
Watch Church of Girl Pick: “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” by The Shondes
“That first push at Live365 was a sense of passion and excitement on my part to get that music out there for people to listen to whether it was female country, electro or punk. The experience opened our eyes to the fact that women make all kinds of music that doesn’t fit into neat, prescribed boxes–these women do all kinds of music. By 2003-04, the radio station was evolving and I had developed my computing skill set. I built a Linux server to run our website, a separate application server to run the radio station and software to play a rotation of songs based on the song’s “weight” in the database. At one point, we had hourly shows by genre, but then moved to a completely random independent rotation. Everything that is on the station now is because an artist sent it to us. There is nothing from our own personal collections we have purchased,” noted Massey.
Church of Girl has no formal marketing plan; the message has been spread via grass-roots efforts, social networking, and cooperative linking with the bands that they feature. “Chris was amazing at setting up our MySpace and managing our initial social networking presence. We have over 11,000 friends, all personally confirmed that they are indeed a performer or supporter of women in music,” shared Naylor.
Mary Ann Naylor and Chris Massey
For Naylor and Massey, promoting women in music is a passion that permeates their collective being. Naylor, an artist herself with her own jewelry line, works in marketing and promotion and served on the founding Board of Directors of Portland’s Rock & Roll Camp for Girls as well as other leading women’s arts organizations in town. Massey, a technophile and audiophile, loves to spin records at Portland venues as DJ Boy and uses his skills in technology to advance Church of Girls’ cause.
For as much effort as running an internet radio station requires, this labor of love generates no revenue for the hard-working couple. “Internet radio is treated as a performance as compared to terrestrial radio, which is seen as a promotional tool. This was defined as part of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. ASCAP wants us to license through them, even though 99% of the artists we air are independent and wouldn’t see a penny of the royalties that we would have to pay to play their music. We are promotion only; we don’t make money, so we can’t afford to pay the exorbitant licensing fees to promote music,” points out Naylor.
As Massey and Naylor reflect on 10 years of online presence, doing what they love most, giving female musicians a place to be heard, Naylor says she hopes for more of the same in the next 10. “So many artists have expressed their thanks for having a place for all women to be heard, and for paying attention to them. I have received emails from artists like Toys Like Me that have told us they have these strange clusters of listeners in the U.S., and they attribute them to Church of Girl. Kate Wax gave us a huge compliment: She said that Church of Girl is ‘proof that American culture wasn’t bust.’”
“Church Of Girl has been a valuable addition to the online radio world because it focuses on the female voice specifically,” said Portland recording artist Em Brownlowe of Swallows. “COG is dedicated to giving more air time to female performers in a male dominated music industry. I have also been introduced to a ton of awesome music from all corners of the world that I may not have come across without COG’s advocacy.”
Watch Church of Girl Pick: “Out To You” by Lisa Papineau
“What do we want for the coming years? We want you to have a place to come and hear about all the great artists you’ll never hear about anywhere else.”
Be sure to visit churchofgirl.com as they unveil a redesigned website for their 10th anniversary!
Watch Church of Girl Pick: “Not In a Million Lovers” by Beangrowers
The Portland Cello Project has taken its Melting Pot kind of music all over the world. And why not? Band member Skip von Kuske named the genre in our contest last fall.
Beginning on Wednesday, March 17 they begin a seven show Great Northwest Music Tour of McMenamin’s venues featuring collaborations with Catherine Feeny, David Shultz, and Samantha Kushnik. All shows are free. The schedule:
March 17, The Olympic Club in Centralia, Washington
March 18, The Kennedy School in Portland, Oregon
March 20, Hotel Oregon in McMinnville, Oregon
March 24, The Old St Francis School in Bend, Oregon
March 25, The Edgefield in Troutdale, Oregon
March 26, The Sand Trap in Gearhart, Oregon
March 27, The Grand Lodge in Forest Grove, Oregon
These are the folks you’ll find in the band, just not all at the same time. Justin Kagan, Skip Von Kuske, Gideon Freudmann, Anna Fritz, Allegra M, Sonja Myklebust, Galen Cohen, Kevin Jackson, Douglas Jenkins, Ashia Grzesik, Samantha Kushnik, Robert Brooks, Brian Bruner, Emma Wood, Collin Oldham, and Matt Berger on percussion.
Douglas Jenkins is the leader. We talk with him below. First watch a video shot in Philadelphia, PA. “Hanging on the Water” featuring Justin Powers:
Six cellos, three collaborators on most of the shows.
Three pretty interesting forty-five minute sets. A lot of the music will be a mixture of our usual stuff but a lot of new stuff to go with it and all new collaborators.
David Shulz is a singer/songwriter/guitarist from Richmond, Virginia. He’s coming out here, doing a tour, just seemed to meet up with our needs so he’s going to join us for a bit. We toured with him when we toured with Thao in the fall on a six-week national tour and he was the opening band, but he hasn’t really played on the West Coast.
Catherine Feeny just moved to Portland. She is a singer from England. She had a big hit single there called “Hurricane Glass.” This is a good opportunity to get her in our show.
One of our cellists Samantha Kushnick does folky stuff with the cello…she sings while she plays. We like these collaborations. They seem to fit for this tour.
And they’re all free.
Free admission to every show.
Is it different playing for a free audience than an audience who has paid to see you?
Yeah, usually it’s louder. I’ve planned expecting people to be a little bit…it’s like in Portland, we’re so spoiled. We’ll play the Doug Fir and people will be dead silent, you can hear a pin drop. When we play bars, especially if we’re not playing in Portland, I just expect it to be loud and so we’ll play a more high energy set to fit the room and fit the energy of what’s going on and the fact that some of the people there haven’t seen us play.
We did an interview with him a few months ago. How is his health?
He’s doing much better, much much better…I mean straight, he’s in totally different physical shape than he was a month and a half ago. I’m so happy to have him back, I’m so happy that he’s playing. I actually wrote out a few arrangements just because I knew he was coming and I’m just so excited to have him back…Duke Ellington stuff, Take Five and like that.
How are things going in general with the band?
I can’t complain. It was a product that never had any expectations behind it. It was always…let’s do this, it would be fun…and it’s evolved into something that actually has direction. It’s great, it just seems like people have been so wonderfully responsive and we get to play with so many wonderful people. Going in a community-oriented direction, too. I don’t want it to lose sight of the community side of it. I always want our shows to be pretty inexpensive…always want to have all kinds of people involved…just have it be really open-door, that anybody can come to the show and have fun. As long as they can hold on to that, I’m very very happy.
Is it a full-time job for you?
Sadly, it is a full-time job. I say sadly because I used to play with so many bands in town, now it’s like all of my time is eaten up by Portland Cello Project, but it’s amazing and an awesome thing to be doing so I’m sad to not be doing so much other muic, at the same time there are so many opportunities and so much creativity involved in this, it’s a wonderful thing to be doing, too.
It’s a very selfless thing. When we play I hide in the back of the stage. I try not to do much, if I have to, I’ll do it and I’ll turn it on, I’ll become gregarious but in general I just like it being this big thing going on onstage that doesn’t seem like…to not have a leader. Whoever collaborator is up there, whatever cellist is taking a solo, that’s the focus of what’s going on at that moment. That’s an inspiration that I like washing over everybody rather than a constant single thing going on. It’s nice. It’s just really nice to have this amorphous creative thing going on.
We were just in San Diego for a show and they interviewed me and they asked, “Do you ever just want to write your own music for this group?” And honestly, my feeling is that it’s just as inspiring to be a part of someone else’s inspiration as it is to be a part of your own…I think in some ways it’s easier. You feel just as fulfilled.
What do you do with your own music?
I feel like I put my creative energy into production of these CDs. I do a lot of the engineering myself. And in writing the arrangements. There’s so much creativity in that. I’ve written almost three hundred arrangements in the past three years for the group. There’s a creativity in taking other people’s music and adapting it. If you want to talk about ownership over music, that’s where my creative energy has its ownership…those little things…sowing seeds to realizing how the music is going on.
Arrangers never seem to get the credit that they deserve.
I know. [Laughing] It’s killing me. I’m proud of my arrangements. No one ever notices except for the players. [Laughing]
A new album in the works?
We’re almost done with it. It’s gonna come out in July. It’s all instrumental. We’re going in a very different direction with it. I think it’s going to be the best thing we’ve put out. It will be very focused on the cello. It’s not like a collaborator here, a collaborator there.
It’s still mixing genres. I mean, we’re covering the Halo video game theme song and we’re also doing some pretty serious stuff…more Classical than we’ve ever done.
Classical pieces?
There are two…we can’t decide which to use. Faure’s Elegie, an arrangement I did of it for string quartet, Skip’s playing the solo part on that. Also the Bachianas Brasileiras, which isn’t technically instrumental, there’s a soprano soloist and it’s for eight cellos. Those are the two we’re trying to decide on right now.
It’s a dark record. There’s been so much tragedy in the music scene the past couple of years. Rachel Blumberg [The Decemberists], her mom, Naomi Blumberg was a big cello teacher in town and she passed away last year from cancer, and [PCP's] Gideon Freudman’s wife passed away from cancer too. We’ve got these pieces that they’ve written on this record that are in memoriam for their loved ones who have passed away.
We’re going to be donating a portion of the profits to cancer charities. Larry Crane gave us an Elliott Smith song that was unreleased and we’re doing that instrumentally, so there’s a lot of sad stuff on there. Cellos do sad well….
How about The Thao and Justin Power Sessions, the current album?
It’s divided into thirds, four collaborative pieces with Thao and four with Justin Power who was previously unrecorded in Portland and then four instrumental pieces with cellos. It’s three different recording sessions in six days.
Ukulele in there, huh?
A lot of people can’t even recognize it’s a ukulele.
Attitudes are changing but ukulele’s still don’t get no respect.
[Laughing] That’s right, and they really should. They have a beautiful tone. I’m from Hawaii originally. For me it’s like, come on everybody the ukulele really does sound beautiful.
Since ’97, singer/songwriter Damien Jurado has quietly amassed one of the most robust and sincere volumes of music on the Northwest indie scene. While he has received high praise and critical acclaim often in his career, the Seattle native remains in relative obscurity.
Considering that tickets for his upcoming show are only $10, I want to shake hands and personally introduce this man to everyone who has never heard of him.
Jurado started out playing for various punk bands in the late 80’s. While there are almost no traces of this experience in his current work, the creative and rebellious attitude remain. Styling his career off of his idiosyncrasies and eccentricities, very much in the style of Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Elliott Smith, Jurado has never wavered in the tenacious pursuit of creative muses, whether or not this was appealing to fans and critics. Fortunately for us, it is.
This independent mindset has led to a mellow, indie-rock style that is very hard sum up in so many words. The alt-rock tonality that he creates is instantly infectious, and leads me to believe that the vast majority of indie listeners are missing out on something tangible yet somehow mesmerizing.
Miles has power in his music, at times reminding you of Elliott Smith. His music is lonely, but it is thoughtful and real with vivid lyrics that provide this feel to his sound.
It is broken-hearted soulful music that touches upon those moments of longing and discord, when you are close to something you hold dear but don’t know if you’ll ever get it, beautifully demonstrated by his song “I Long To…”:
“I long to be with you but I’m down in the pouring rain, all the ground is washing away…I can dream of you from here if I think of you a while, I can still dream of you, go anywhere I dream of you from here.”
“Pale Moon” also touches upon this moment of longing and looking for a sign in the clouds with lyrics, “Oh Lord, take me from this pale moon, Oh Lord, won’t you put me under the golden light.”
Miles’ longest song, “Where the Wind Blows,” is a song about hoping for a transformation:
“I could take you where the wind blows…and we could go for a stroll, and take our sweet time, we could lighten our lonely minds…we could leave all our things behind.”
Miles’ soulful voice and lyrics, accompanied with piano and drifting background music, makes his music something you can listen to in quiet thought and contemplation.
Stockert will play before Miles. He plays Americana with a Mexican music influence as evidenced by the trumpets and horns that accompany his music.
Tasche De La Rocha will open Thursday night. De La Rocha has a beautiful, heartfelt voice, sounding like Yael Naim if Naim was more lonely and didn’t have that “New Soul.”
In her song “California” she says there is “no message in the breeze” and talks of accepting what happens, however lonesome it may be. “I hope that the sun will lead your way, even if it means that I can’t stay.”
A saying on De La Rocha’s MySpace page perhaps sums up best the feeling of the music that will be played on Thursday night: “Though life can be a sad story, I am still embracing it so much.”
Thursday, February 18, 2010, Mississippi Pizza Pub, 9 PM.
Casey Neill and the Norway Rats. Photo by Inger Klekacz, stemmamedia.com
Walking into Mississippi Studios without knowing a thing about the featured artists, one would have a hard time guessing the genre by the crowd. Hipsters in skinny jeans and thick-rimmed glasses; the free-spirited bohemians, their long hair wrapped in colorful scarves. Girls wearing skirts and boots, lace tights and heels, a flower pinned in their hair; guys with braided beards in black t-shirts, waiting for the opportunity to rock out.
All three bands that performed Saturday have a wide range of song styles, and a vast following. Young and old, hard-rockers and indie followers intermixed on the Mississippi Studios floor anxiously awaiting what the night had in store.
Opening the show, Blue Horns lead singer Brian Park sat alone on stage with his guitar, his melodies drifting across the room, quietly serenading those remaining in the bar on the other side of a closed garage door. Reminiscent of a bohemian-hipster Justin Long, with a toned-down-fumanchu-style moustache and a slouchy knit beanie, Park soulfully sang a few acoustic ballads before motioning to his fellow band mates blending in among the crowd to join him on stage.
Blue Horns
Immediately after the remaining members arrived on stage Park announced to the crowd that guitarist Colin Howard had a “bum wing” that night, an injury to his left hand; a sort of disclaimer that the members would be taking on different roles than usual. Howard started the set playing tambourine before, in a wonderfully literal act of musical chairs, he proceeded to play “one-handed keyboard,” as Andrew Stern took over on bass guitar.
While the rotation was unintentional, the band’s execution was flawless suggesting that it was all part of the show, choreographed specifically for our entertainment. Although after the show Park described that their tone is usually closer to “glam rock,” his voice flutters with steady, uninterrupted rhythm throughout the varying style of songs: slow ballads, folky-acoustic-rock, pop infused island-reggae.
Park has been writing songs for several years, the band coming together in 2007 with an unquenchable passion to “send each song running head over heels at the listener.” Their distinct and unquestionably likable sound is bound for success: being featured on local indie stations and touring cross-country in the future. Catch them for yourself when the Blue Horns play on January 30th at the Doug Fir Lounge with Morning Teleportation and AAN.
The crowd thickened as Sassparilla set up to play the second set with fans fighting to get a front-row view of the amazing bayou-inspired heavy rock band. The 6-person group casually prepared their harmonica, banjo, washtub bass, and washboard, as if they are instruments we see played everyday.
From the second they began there was a not a dull moment or a still body in the house.
Ross MacDonald wailed on the harmonica, performing several solos during the songs, without showing any appearance of fatigue, impressing us all and receiving cheers of ecstatic appreciation. Fondly referred to by band members as Pappy, and, at one point during the show announced as the “Dagger,” MacDonald is one of the original founders of the Sassparilla Jug Band, along with lead singer, banjo, and box guitar player, Gus Richmond.
One wouldn’t believe she had only begun playing washboard 5 months ago (when she joined the band) when front-woman Naima Muntal expertly beat the washboard she wore around her neck and torso without missing a beat. Using her whole body as she thrashed with the rhythm. Halfway through the set, her red ringlets began to loosely cascade around her face unable to stay pinned back any longer. Radiating happiness, when Naima wasn’t singing she was smiling, laughing, making faces at the cameraman, and dancing with brand new member, Maura, who performed with the band for the first time that night.
This unconstrained, fun-loving energy oozing from within each member of the band was contagious, the audience catching and embracing the disease. As the fast paced rhythm seeped into their bones, the fans in the crowd were soon unable to restrain themselves from uncontrollably breaking into full-body dance.
Between songs, Richmond dazzled us with his charismatic personality, wooing us with random trivia bits accumulated from the combination of lots of time in an RV and an iPhone. Encouraging audience participation, he asked, “Do you know what a group of penguins are called?” Soon the “did you know?” game of informative facts became an in-between-songs tradition the audience came to expect. When he didn’t immediately offer up a new fact, a fan begged for more, calling out, “more animal trivia!” Unable to come up with a tidbit to share on the spot Colin, the bass player, chimed in with his own piece of trivia.
“Did you know this is my dad?” he said pointing to MacDonald standing behind him, who confirmed it with a kiss on the cheek, winning all our hearts.
Even though they have only been playing for a relatively short period of time, the Sassparilla Jug Band has a very strong following, as evidenced by their ability to draw a crowd. At the beginning of the very dynamic “Do you understand me?!“ a group of women who had secured a place on the floor directly in front of the stage, turned to each other in excitement, one declaring: “This is the best song ever!” During the song, audience members were encouraged to shout out, “WHAT???” along with the other band members in response to Richmond’s incomprehensible ramblings. In keeping with his love of involving the audience, he grabbed a megaphone mid-song and wandered into the audience. ”Do you understand me?” he sang in his gravely heavy metal voice. “Yeeeeeeaaaah,” we all cooed back at him.
In between sets, I met Walt–a fan who fears he may be becoming a Casey Neill groupie. After Richmond described what an honor it was to be featured right before Casey Neill and the Norway Rats, and Walt raved that I was “in for quite a treat,” I realized that even though Sassparilla threatened the steal the show with their non-stop, feel-good rhythm, the fans would never be able to replace Neill so easily.
Walt told me what an “extraordinary songwriter” Neill is, and filled me in on all the details of the band while they set up: Jennie Conlee from The Decemberists is the accordion and keyboard player, and the female singer and guitar player is Little Sue, who also has her own band. We all swayed and enjoyed the variety of the band’s music, from slow and contemplative to fast, punk rock songs. Neill’s style has hints of The Decemberists’ sailor sound with a pirate-esque gruffness in some songs, alongside story-telling lyrics similar to Bob Dylan with a soothing sound, evocative at times of Elliott Smith. Yet his music is unique, making it hard to pinpoint exactly where they fall on the genre axis.
Playing their last show until they release their new album in April, the audience begged to be satisfied with an encore song; as an added bonus, Sassparilla’s Richmond joined them on stage. They rewarded us with two more songs, and we left with smiles.
Although it was introduced into the greater vernacular in the late ’90s, the past decade saw the word “indie” become the go-to watchword amid the mass of music chatter served up on the blogs, webzines and print media of the world.
Dozens of indie bands from around the world became household names, some even cracking the Billboard Top 10. It wasn’t necessarily a shock wave considering the fractured state of the music industry and the ease with which people have access to music. Rather, it was simply an aesthetic shift towards something that felt somehow more authentic and more accessible and engaging.
I would argue that no state in America represented this aesthetic better than Oregon, and no city did it better than the metropolitan hub of Portland. We have seen a great number of bands – far more than the group listed here – that have made a permanent mark on the international music scene. And we’ve seen many others from outside our borders pick up stakes and move to Portland to take part in this wellspring of activity and excitement.
This list represents the best general consensus I could come up with of the best indie music to come out of Oregon since 2000. It was gathered by taking nominations and suggestions (via Twitter and Facebook, naturally) from musicians, colleagues and other music writers, and then winnowing it down to the list that’s before you. Also, to keep things fair for all parties involved, and to emphasize the communal feel of the music scene in Oregon, these are listed in alphabetical order by artist, rather than ranking them by a number system.
I wouldn’t dare say that this was a definitive list. There are plenty of genres represented here that I and my nominating committee consider to be “indie music” but many more genres are left out. As well, there will likely be some that would argue on behalf of other bands or other albums by the bands listed here.
But I’m quite sure that you won’t argue the point that the past 10 years have been great for the Oregon music scene and community at large, and that from the looks of things, it’s only going to get better from here.
The title of Au’s second album is as much about the music on it, as it is about the effect that the band wants it to have on the listener. They want you to act on behalf of the album: to sing, dance, sway, bounce, curl up, sleep, or cry along with it. For the band, this meant tuning everything towards maximum momentum, recording all the basic tracks in a whirlwind three-day session that involved a chorus of voices ebulliently singing, “Animals we are!” and Steve Reich-like swathes of piano and percussion. It’s music that moves you as you move with it.
If you were to map out the principal musical ideas of the last decade, one that would come up again and again is the attempt by many a young band to weld together the warm expanse of folk and country with the cold insularity of modern electronica. Some succeeded admirably enough, but none did it better than this sextet. Throughout their fourth full-length, Eric Earley, Marty Marquis, and co. allow glossy blasts and bleats of synths and rhythm machines to shine out through their dusty odes to animalistic love (the rambling title track), outlaws (“Black River Killer”) and heartbreak (“Not Your Lover”).
The fifth full-length by this duo is the sound of a group finally hitting their stride. After almost a decade of well-meaning, but ultimately raggedy sounding efforts, Khaela Maricich and Jona Bechtolt either got completely comfortable with modern technology or simply began to feel fully settled working with each other, but they were able to crank out 10 brilliant songs of shimmering lovelorn pop. Giddy numbers like “Parentheses” and “Eat Your Heart Up” are artful, yet accessible blends of new wave gloss and hip-hop grit. Though the two have parted ways (amicably, as Bechtolt is now expending all his energy with his own group YACHT) and The Blow has turned into something of a one-woman cabaret act, The Blow can rest comfortably on the legacy of this perfect collaborative effort.
All you need to be able to parse out Marius Libman’s solo electronica can be found under the influences he lists on his MySpace page. On his debut album, you can pick out the low end skitter of producers like Dr. Dre and Timbaland, the charming analog pretension of Human League and Yaz, and the joyous repetition of an NES game soundtrack. When it was released two years ago, it felt like the music of the future finally found a home in Portland, Oregon. These days, it feels like the future of music is being driven under the influence of albums like this one.
Hard, heavy rock tends to get short shrift in our fair city, especially these days when folk-driven earnestness is all the rage. But if there were ever a band to help tip the scales back to piledriving riffs and early Sabbath-style vocalizing, it would be Danava. Led by the sci-fi visions cooked up by front man Dusty Sparkles, this progressive trio hit their creative apex with this, their second album, which retrofitted acid rock drenched guitar playing with a truncheon-like rhythm section. It’s a record that leave you dizzy, giddy and utterly convinced that the title of the album totally makes sense, man.
The tastemakers of the city dismissed the band for their unrepentant aims for stardom, but in doing so they have missed out on album after album of pure glam and psychedelic bliss. The long-running quartet got the new millennium off to a fantastic start with this richly produced and ultra catchy collection of pop anthems. They borrow liberally from the playbooks of influences like T. Rex and Bowie but adds their own modern twists with rumbling electronic touches and Courtney Taylor-Taylor’s turned on, tuned in lyrics. This band is well overdue for a retro-style resurrection and re-appraisal. Let it start right here.
In a decade that saw this band’s musical output grow in both conceptual and sonic strength, my rough polling of Portland music fans turned up a rather interesting wrinkle: when it comes down to it, people prefer The Decemberists’ humble beginnings. It’s hard to fault the choice, though, as their first full-length kicked the door open for Colin Meloy’s particular brand of hyper literate folk pop, sending a generation of fans into the richly hewn world of ghostly children, crooked French-Canadians, and lovelorn Spanish puppeteers.
Over the course of one album, this former Nevada City resident managed to capture the spirit of wandering Nashville-style country, folk music from Ireland and modern indie all through the ache of her crackling fire of a singing voice. Anchored by acoustic guitar and tasteful orchestration that never overplays, Diane’s songs befit any season – the dusky warmth of late summer, the chill of winter, and the giddy expectation of spring.
The last few years has seen an upswing in bands that proudly fly an analog flag, recording their work on any dusty beat to hell tape deck that will have them. The group that represented Oregon best in this beautiful racket was this roughshod quartet of noisemakers. Their debut full-length gives away the group’s pedigree: a steady diet of vintage Flying Nun 7″s, early Pavement singles and a lot of garage rock compilations. It’s nearly punk, nearly pop, and all Eat Skull.
The captain of the good ship Oregon Music News likens the upswing of young, hyper aware and brilliant jazz players in the city (Andrew Oliver, Ben Darwish, etc.) as “indie jazz”. For this writer, the moniker should be applied first to this freewheeling group. They play shows well below the radar of the regular jazz market, perform a glorious mix of Afrobeat, Sun Ra style space excursions and smoky cabaret weepers, and released their finest work in a very limited edition on a staunchly DIY label (vinyl only naturally).
2003 was a tough year for Portland music with the suicide of Elliott Smith and the tragic death of 3/4 of the members of this snarling power pop/punk outfit in a van accident. Just as their star was on the ascendant, too, as heard on their one and only LP. The 10 skinny tie and leather jacket-ed tracks echo the best of groups like The Undertones and Sweet, but with their own homegrown energy fueled cheap beer and strong coffee. And as Adam Cox’s lovelorn lyrics proved, the album’s title wasn’t just a catchy turn of phrase. It’s a shame they didn’t get more of a chance to burn even brighter.
They had already made a name for themselves as a blues-garage-punk dynamo hybrid to be reckoned with. But with the release of their third studio album and the introduction of drummer Hannah Billie to the proceedings, the band turned toward a raw disco-new wave-soul sound that coaxed some of the most diva-like sounds from vocalist Beth Ditto. It is an album that made the trio superstars in the UK and an indie success here in the States, urged on by the engaging and hard to ignore lead single “Standing In The Way of Control” and their always-electrifying stage shows. The gear switch for Gossip did them and their listeners a world of sexy, sweaty good.
The ghostly sound of Liz Harris’s lost in the ether vocals combined with heavily processed guitar sounds and ambient noise provided one the most haunting and dreamlike listening experiences of the past decade. It’s an album that is just as fulfilling when hiding in the background of your daily activities or turned up loud on headphones as you pay attention to every last nuance and reverb-ed vocal. All signs point to Harris moving above and beyond what is heard on this record, as we really should expect from an artist as forward thinking as she is. But we will likely hold on most tightly to this intoxicating document.
We’ve been inured to experimental music to the point that we expect a song like “Extension” to, at any minute, take a turn into the world of frightening, squalling noise. But Tom Greenwood’s long running music concern knows better than that. Over the course of nearly 16 minutes, he and the band revel in small turns of guitar phrasing, washed out cymbals, pinging synth runs and the rumble of drums. It’s one of the most heavenly exercises in pure restraint ever committed to tape and caps off one of the most exciting avant psych releases of the past decade.
There were dozens of bands working the same spiraling guitars with unusual tunings and on the verge of tumbling over the hillside rhythm section sound by the time The Joggers released their debut album. But something about their arch approach to what we might now call “classic indie rock” stood head and shoulders above the fray. It could have been the keen use of four-part harmonies. Or it could simply be the fact that, on first lesson, you were never quite sure where the band would go next (do you know any other group that pulled off an non ironic a cappella breakdown in the pre-Glee universe?). No matter what it was, we followed them every step of the way.
For the past decade, the former Pavement front man has called Portland his home, and quickly made a firm name for himself by pulling together a new band featuring some of the best musicians from his adopted hometown (Jonna Bolme, John Moen and Mike Clark). His second post-Pavement effort carries over that band’s meandering, shaggy dog aesthetic, but with the influence of ’60s psychedelia creeping more evidently in the mix. It has the confident and comfortable sound of someone who has finally settled down. We should still be proud that he has chosen our fair city to do his settling in.
Perhaps the most modern of albums to be created in our modern era, the trio’s third album was constructed in fits and starts with the individual members writing and recording separately. These parts were then re-recorded or re-written by the other members of the group as they went along. That the finished product was an avant-pop masterpiece, filled with angular rhythms, surging choruses and plenty of random noise, instead of a mess of disjointed, confused sound is a testament to the collective mindset of the group. They are in this together and to create something brilliant, and on Friend & Foe, they did just that.
It’s a testament to the abilities of Mirah’s songwriting that she can place a deeply political pop tune about the state of Israel (“Jerusalem”) close to a heartfelt, horn-drenched break up elegy (“We’re Both So Sorry”) and have these disparate ideas feel joined at the hip. The first of many artistic peaks by this now-former Oregonian brought with it the homegrown feel of the Olympia music scene she was bred in, but added to it her sharp ear for minimalist composition and production. Every song sounds full, but never overstuffed.
The album that introduced Isaac Brock and his beautifully agonized, staccato pop/rock to suburb dwellers, Good News has the air of a defining statement. The kind of work that its creators put their spines, hearts and sweat deep into, figuring it’s their last best shot at something bigger than indie success. It certainly paid off thanks to “Float On”, the rousing single that, in 2004, seemed absolutely inescapable. The rest is Platinum-selling, Grammy-nominated history, and a story that Brock and co. have built upon in the years since its release.
Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss had already made a lasting mark on the Portland music scene by this point. They had five albums under their belt – each one better than the one before – and were getting plenty of attention for their work outside of the group. But their sixth helped cut that mark a little deeper, bringing Coomes’ love of Delta blues (“Master & Dog”) and a touch of straining ’70s pop into their already well-established mix of dour lyrics and jaunty indie rock. Hot shit, indeed.
Hearing a band mature and truly come into their own is a thrill for any music fan. And for fans of The Shins, the thrill came from this fantastic collection. Wincing captured some of James Mercer’s most engaging and indelible melodies and found the band stretching themselves comfortably past the lightly hued sound that got them name checked in a Hollywood film. All signs are pointing to a different look and feel for the band from here on out. Will they expand on the ideas formulated here? Undoubtedly. Will they improve upon what they did here? Hard to improve on perfection.
On their final salvo together, this powerful trio locked in tight like never before, writing feedback dripping jams that demanded your attention and your appreciation. Carrie Brownstein submitted fully to her new found status as a guitar goddess, ripping through these proceedings like a buzz saw. She and Corin Tucker responded to our fracturing modern age with some of the most bitter, bilious lyrics of their long career (check out the call-to-arms that is “Entertain” and the vicious “Modern Girl”). There is light at the end of this tunnel, however, as heard in their closing one-two punch – a pair of noisy and hope-filled odes to both family and love.
The only album that Smith saw released this decade is as heartbreaking and fragile and brilliant as the man who created it. His second to be bankrolled by a major label, Smith was able to fulfill his pop dreams, making a record that sounds removed from the era in which it was released. It has the lush heart of mid-’60s British pop and with occasional blasts of ’70s-style groove and rumble. The beauty of the music is countered by Smith’s arch lyrical visions that took a Bukowski-like mixture of cynicism and romance to dizzying heights.
This tightly-controlled masterpiece will be likely be analyzed for years to come. Not only by those fledgling songwriters hoping to parse out just how Britt Daniel (another Portland transplant) constructs his loose, angular jams, but by engineers looking to match drummer Jim Eno’s jaw dropping production work. Each song plays out like an Escher illusion, with each note and noise locked into those surrounding it to create a beautiful seamless whole. It’s a master’s class in modern rock and pop that wraps up in a tidy 36 minutes. You can expect to hear more bands and more albums like it after they’ve had some time to absorb all the subtle details found within.
The past decade saw an amazing number of bands arriving fully formed, creating full-length classics right out of the gate. Portland’s entry into that parade was Starfucker, a quartet that specialized in glossy, ’80s inspired, dance floor filling jams. It has the goofy wit to wend in some Alan Watts samples, but is also smart enough not to rest on any one groove or melodic idea for too long. It has the effortless spirit of a perfect summer’s day, the kind where you awarded all the time in the world to simply float downstream and enjoy yourself.
Their debut, Mutiny Sunshine, saw this duo feeling out the idea of playing instrumental music that was driven by live and programmed beats, but also carried on its back a heft of melodics via viola, piano and other acoustic instruments. It felt good there, but feels positively great on this, their follow up release. Each song has a full, rounded quality with the wood and wire elements folding into click and drag elements with deceptive ease. Also states a hell of a case for Kevin O’Connor as Portland’s best male drummer (check out the track “Human Born” for the best evidence of this). In a city teeming with them, that is saying something.
The rest of the country can keep the empty rhetoric of Green Day’s so-called rock operas. When we want to take a punk-fueled journey into the heart of “real America”, we want The Thermals to be our guides. It’s the story of a boy and a girl fleeing a religion-crazed police state set to the sound of sinewy power chords, steamrolling drums and Hutch Harris’s window shaking vocals. A perfect encapsulation of the frustration and anger so many of us felt during the Bush administration, The Thermals gave us an outlet to dance and shout and shake and focus our energy on getting the bastards in our sights and taking them down.
Some records are titled perfectly. Like this one. The warm, worn sound that Matt Ward created here would sound perfect spilling out of the monophonic speaker of a small handheld radio. And the songs on it are all about the escape granted to lovers of music when their favorite tunes are in the air. That means everything from sleepy, jazzy love poems to the Beach Boys and Bach instrumentals that bookend the collection.
The doyen of the psychedelic and experimental music scenes in Portland, Adam Forkner has done time with such far-out outfits as Surface of Eceyon and Dirty Projectors. On his own, the various strains of influence that he has exhibited in his work with these groups (Krautrock, Japanese psychedelia, IDM) are all focused and sharpened. They came together most convincingly on this stretched out, acid trailing epic of drum loops, fractured guitar and deep, pure drone. It’s the kind of work that coaxes you into it gently but then holds you firm and strong until the last notes fade away. The visions and ecstasy you receive as a result is just added incentive to give yourself over to it.
Author and songwriter Willy Vlautin and the boys from Richmond Fontaine had to cancel their Cascade-area record release events in Portland and Seattle due to the dang flu.
Check out their new video for “You Can Move Back Here.”
Engineered by Larry Crane of Jackpot! Recording Studio (Elliott Smith, R.E.M., The Decemberists, The Shins…) this is the fourth Richmond Fontaine album produced by famous country and alternative country guy JD Foster (Calexico, Richard Buckner, Laura Cantrell).
Richmond Fontaine keeps pumping out great records and have been playing alternative country music since before there was a name for the genre. This band tours a lot and their Dante’s show is an opportunity to see one of the Northwest’s seminal alternative country acts play Portland.
Logan Lynn makes emotronic, electropop. A gay man from America’s heartland, raised in a family of cult-like, born-again Christians, he’s found a way out of some dark, lost days.
Influenced by folk music growing up and DJs in Chicago, Logan’s demo was titled This Is Folk Techno. Sentimental lyrics paired with capricious electro-beats, Logan’s sound ranges from dejected to dancey, creating moods that resemble The Postal Service.
Relishing in Portland’s creativity, Logan is signed to The Dandy Warhols’ label Beat The World and is becoming a people person.
He celebrates his new album From Pillar To Post with a listening party on Sunday, November 22nd at Jinx Bar with The Dandy’s Zia McCabe spinning records as DJ Rescue, but before the drinks, Logan chats about being emo, hiding under the sheets, and grandma’s adages.
Listen to “Feed Me To The Wolves” from the new album.
Are you emo? What’s wrong with that word? Or is it just right?
Well, that depends. If “emo” is short for “emotional” and you are asking if I think my music is that, I would answer “yes.” If you mean “emo” in the traditional sense of the word (aka 18-year-old high school kids wearing shit tons of eyeliner and whining about their girlfriends and parents), then the answer is “no.” I’m fine with the word having been slowly attached to me over the years… I think that, as the definition changes with the addition of “emotronic” and other sub-categories within the genre, it makes more sense. I have made peace with the fact that I am hard to categorize at times, both in music and in life.
Who is Logan Lynn personally? Musically?
Well, I’ve spent years trying to make those two match up. I think I am finally there these days, or at least on my way to being there. My main goal for myself both musically and personally is to exist in a place of transparency and truth. I believe that the only way we can ever really be free is to look at ourselves honestly and project that truth into the world, however ugly or beautiful it might be looking or sounding at any given moment.
Similarly, musically, I am an open book. I want people to either connect to me and my tunes with the full story or decide that it’s not their bag, having heard me as I really am. I’m pretty sure that the day I start candy-coating my lyrics will be the day I stop caring about music and having listeners. Bottom line: I’m an imperfect work in progress and am fine just being that during my time here… so long as I am always learning, always growing, and doing my best to not repeat the same mistakes over and over, I’m into it.
What kinda music do you make? How did you develop your sound?
I have always fallen into the electropop category, though I tend to move around within that genre quite a bit. By 1996 I had DJ’d other people’s music in the Midwest party scene for years and always listened to folk music and sensitive female vocalists growing up, so when I started writing songs of my own there were elements of both worlds of inspiration brought into the mix.
I hooked up with a Portland producer named Pfog in 1998 who had gotten his hands on a demo I had self-released called This Is Folk Techno. We spent a year or so working on GLEE, which was released in 2000, and I have since worked with a bunch of producers, each time changing the sound of the music a bit.
The instrumental side of my sound develops as I get the opportunity to work with other talented folks who know how to do and play things which don’t fall under my expertise. My lyrics and vocal work tend to grow sonically as I push myself out of my comfort zone, let go of my deep-seeded fears about being exposed or rejected, and grow personally.
There’s a bit of a dichotomy to your music. Uppy beats paired with sad lyrics.
Yeah, I’m guessing that is partially about my dance music influences creeping in and partially a protective mechanism for myself. I write about my feelings as they are (as opposed to how I wish they would be) and it’s scary to put that out there with people you know, much less the world at large. With my songs, I tend to dive headfirst into my darker parts at times and let people just crawl into my head with me to check things out for themselves. The idea that people can go there in an enjoyable way makes it easier for me to put my words onto paper or into the air in the first place.
I like that I can have more than one type of listener and that the songs themselves can be absorbed in different ways by the same listener, depending on the day. If you feel like dancing or if you feel like going fetal in your bed under the blanket with headphones, it can work for both.
I make music to clear my head, to shrink my world to a manageable size, to not feel so fucking all alone all the time. It’s nice to know that other people are finding a home with my songs and feeling these same sorts of feelings. The connection that is made there goes both ways and has been really life-changing on this end.
How does your music help you release and express yourself?
It used to be that the only time I was able to be truthful about how I felt was through my songs and writing. That’s not the case anymore, but I started making records for that reason alone, never really thinking anyone would ever hear them aside from my friends, family, and people who I could not otherwise communicate with. It started as a safe way for me to get the shit that was literally killing me out of my skull so I could move past it, and has continued to be that sort of outlet for me. Once I have turned my broken feelings into a story or a physical product of some sort, they tend to start to fix themselves. It’s like therapy, only super public.
Tell me about Portland. We all love it here. Why do you?
Yeah! I love it here too. I moved here in ‘96 back when what is now The Pearl looked like an abandoned railway system and the air smelled like rotten Spaghetti-O’s from all the breweries. I got here just as the current music scene was really starting to form and got to watch it grow into what it is today and be a part of it as it formed. I’ve moved away a couple of times since for brief stints in bigger cities, but I always come back. It’s clean, beautiful, quiet, inexpensive, you don’t have to pump your own gas, and there’s tons of stuff going on. How could I ever move?
How did you end up in Portland?
I moved here from Kansas City to go to school. My parents lived out here and I had come out to visit. It took one magical night at The City nightclub during that trip and I had decided that PNCA was the only school in the entire world. I ended up moving here shortly after.
How did your upbringing influence your music?
I was raised the son of a preacher in the Church of Christ, which was a very cult-like section of the born-again world… at least where I was in rural Nebraska. Most of the fears and difficulties I have faced as I have tried to move into adulthood were adopted back then. I grew up feeling alone, hidden in plain sight. I could not be myself in that environment so I had to lie about who I was, which led me down a really dark path for many years. That darkness and those feelings of isolation and regret all play into my writing now and always have. I think, in general, it’s unsettling to turn your back on everything you’ve ever known and break out on your own. It certainly was for me.
What’s the connection to the Dandys? How’d that happen?
In 2007 I was working with a company in Portland that was designing and building stores for American Apparel. I was in Los Angeles on business for a photo shoot with photographer Ray Gordon and gave him my CD. He liked it and it just happened to turn out that he was good friends with Courtney (Taylor-Taylor) from The Dandy Warhols. Ray ended up passing the CD along to him and, from there, they came to my show for MusicfestNW and we set up a meeting. I came by The Odditorium later that week and Courtney told me about the record label they were starting and asked if I’d be interested in making my record there and releasing it on Beat The World. I think I said “Hell Yes” or something and the rest is totally awesome history.
I’m confused. Why have I read things about From Pillar To Post being slated for release in 2007? In any case, tell us about the new record and how it came to be.
Yeah, it’s confusing. I was about to release the record on my own in 2007 right when I got signed with Beat The World. Courtney’s advice was that I “shut it down” and re-make the thing properly in their studio with their engineers, which I did. It had the same title and a few of the same songs, but it ultimately turned out completely different than it was before. Listening to Mr. Taylor-Taylor in 2007 was one of the best decisions I have ever made. Anyway, it got pushed back and we ended up taking our time with it. From there, the release has changed, bigger players have come on board for distribution and such, dates have changed, etc… but the end result is light years beyond what it would have been and I’m really glad it has worked out the way it did… confusing pushbacks and all.
Listen to “Write It On My Left Arm” from the new album.
What’s the significance of the album title?
My grandma used to say the term From Pillar To Post when describing her busy day, or someone whose life had run amuck at church or in the family or whatever. It stuck with me through the years and it took on some personal meaning as I started to run amuck in my own life, burning bridges as I crossed them, hurting everyone in my path. The record is about my journey through the ending of my relationship, my struggles with addiction, and my determination to find truth and light amidst lies and darkness, both internal and external. The record is all one story broken up into segments with song beginnings and endings, but is a snapshot of my life from that time.
What instruments do you play? How did other artists help you on your new album?
I fancy myself a singer/songwriter and I can play very basic keys and guitar, mostly from having lessons when I was a kid… just enough to build the framework. I played most all the instruments on my records before 2007 rolled around and I started working with Carlos Cortes from Portland-to-Brooklyn DJ Collective Assemble The Empire. Our connection was fast and he was on-point with what I was wanting to see happen with my music.
We worked well together and, through our network and The Dandys’ network, we were able to work with TONS of people on the record and even more people after the fact with the remix project. I got loads of help this time around. That’s why it sounds so much better than the old stuff. I stopped being a control freak and let other people do what they are good at. It worked out.
What about online collaboration? What role has MySpace and the internet played in your career?
MySpace basically lit the fire for what is happening in my world now. I was super behind the times until 2006 when my friend forced me to get a MySpace page going. Within a few weeks I had started building up an online group of listeners and started booking shows… the first of which was at the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco. There were over 400,000 people in attendance and it was wild but turned some key people onto my music. Things snowballed from there. I have, since then, been building relationships with fans and listeners and the sea of people has grown quite large at this point. I owe a lot to that direct connection with the people and tend to put most of my non-musical energy into that side of things these days.
Who are your influences? Where does your sound come from?
I’m influenced by all sorts of stuff. I’m obviously influenced directly by the bands around me these days. Aside from the other bands on my label (The Dandy Warhols, The Upsidedown, Spindrift, and 1776) I’m surrounded by other artists in town who are doing their thing authentically, getting noticed, and making it happen. I’m lucky that I am in such close proximity to them. I get to learn their music industry lessons vicariously.
At the root, much of my writing influence stems from years and years of listening to bands like The Innocence Mission, The Sundays, and whatever folksy stuff my parents had playing in the car while I was a kid. Blend in the early years of singing a capella in the church and the wild partying techno days which followed and you get my sound. I spent a lot of time listening to solo artists like Tori Amos, Elliott Smith, and Liz Phair as I was growing up, and I’m sure that being drawn into their heads during my formative years influenced what it means to me to be a songwriter in many ways. I was like a sponge back then, and I still feel a deep connection with many of their songs.
What are you listening to right now?
Emily Haines…always.
Describe Logan Lynn in three words.
Grateful, Hopeful, Irrepressibly Optimistic…. wait, that was 4. Sorry.
Now Logan Lynn’s music in three.
Atmospheric, Moody, Electro-pop. Whoopsies… that was kinda 4 too.
What’s your live performance like?
It’s similar to what you would see if you went to see a singer-songwriter, only instead of guitars and pianos accompanying my voice, I have someone running computers, drumpads, loopers, and gadgets.
Where can we see you?
I have PDX show with Cars & Trains and The Gentry at the Doug Fir on January 7th.
Any awkward moments on stage?
I exist in a place of supreme awkwardness in my life lately as I’ve been doing things on the sober tip and sorta re-learning how to be, but my shows have actually gotten less awkward as a result. I think the strangest show we had was in New York City in 2007. We played a Dlist.com party called Cornhole County and there was a drag queen running a petting zoo as the opening act. It was bizarre, to say the least. This baby goat kept chewing on our cords and we spent most of the night trying not to sneeze and picking tiny pieces of straw off our clothes.
—
Sunday, November 22, 2009 Logan Lynn : Listening Party From Pillar To Post
Featuring DJ Rescue (Zia McCabe from The Dandy Warhols) Jinx Bar
8 PM
Free
21+
“Meet Jump Clubb. A band from Beverly Hills whose music combines dance, disco, and electronic styles with indie mentalities and vocals straight from the height of the lo-fi era. Think LCD Soundsystem meets Beat Happening. Or Hot Chip meets Eric’s Trip.” –From their Press Release
Still anonymous. Let speculations fly while checking out three hot cuts from their October 6th release The Love of Dance, available on iTunes.
And the group uploaded a new video for “Spraypaint” yesterday.
Liking it? Get this half hour mixtape featuring Peter Bjorn and John, Friendly Fires, Eric’s Trip, Major Lazer, Passion Pit, Wolfmother, and more. They’ve also got a cover of Elliott Smith’s “Angeles” floating around out there.
The Portland Cello Project has taken its Melting Pot kind of music all over the world. And why not? Band member 
How are things going in general with the band?
Those who want to hear thoughtful acoustic music have a place to go on Thursday night. Local musicians 
Author and songwriter 
What’s the connection to the Dandys? How’d that happen?
“Meet Jump Clubb. A band from Beverly Hills whose music combines dance, disco, and electronic styles with indie mentalities and vocals straight from the height of the lo-fi era. Think LCD Soundsystem meets Beat Happening. Or Hot Chip meets Eric’s Trip.”
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