ABE VIGODA
L.A.’s Abe Vigoda have a sound that will sit nicely with fans of
local rock trio Talbot Tagora, who are also playing the Block Party.
Just like TT, Abe Vigoda craft songs that magically waver between messy
blasts and surprisingly well-structured nods to post punk (which has
been regurgitated so many times, it usually sounds watered down,
artless, and shallow). Their sound succeeds on one part talent and one
part youthful enthusiasm. (Fri, Vera, 5:15–6) MEGAN SELING
THE AIRBORNE TOXIC EVENT
California’s the Airborne Toxic Event have chosen the most
misleading name possible. They’re not airborne and they’re not
toxic—they’re just rich, shimmery, guitar-driven rock sometimes
reminiscent of Snow Patrol, other times reminiscent of the Strokes
(with a little new-wave edge). This is music for Zach Braff flicks.
(Fri, King Cobra, 7:15–8) MEGAN SELING
AKIMBO
There’s a lot wrong with contemporary heavy rock music; too much
history has bred too many regurgitated formulas. Then there are Akimbo.
They’ve managed to negate all of rock’s worst aspects while exploiting
its greatest attributes. The unbridled urgency of the finest punk bands
blends with the molasses-thick riffage of the best metal acts.
Arena-rock showmanship is coupled with basement-show bombast. Believe
it. (Sat, Vera, 7:45–8:30) BRIAN COOK
BLACK ELK
Equal parts hardcore, sludge, and grunge, Portland’s Black Elk have
refined the sound of early-’90s noise-rock bands like Karp and Melvins
and made it more evil, encapsulating the dark, ominous sound of the
Pacific Northwest’s unexplored wilderness. Their songs are equally
brooding and explosive, angry and anguished, but always heavy as a sack
of corpses. (Sat, Vera, 6:30–7:15) JEFF KIRBY
BLACK EYES & NECKTIES
These horror-punk descendants of the Misfits and Murder City Devils
are a violent, relentless live act. The band’s first commitment is
raucous shout-along garage rock, making their undead-waiters routine
merely a stylish touch, but the reason they’re playing the Neumo’s
stage is still likely because sunlight weakens them. Their
performancesrife with raw power, bloody, beer soaked, and grandare
nothing to be afraid of… boo! (Fri, Neumo’s, 4–4:45) MATT
GARMAN
BLACK WHALES
Black Whales are a new band with some members of old bands like the
Catheters, Tallbirds, Tourist, and Spacesuit. Like many acts in this
city, they’re reviving a sound that could’ve been born during a
back-porch jam session fueled by whiskey and tambourines—but they
beef up their foot-stomping folk with some classic rock guitar and the
rough edges of early garage. They’ve got that folk feeling, but with a
little more attitude and swagger. (Fri, King Cobra, 4–4:30) MEGAN SELING
BOOK OF BLACK EARTH
Scandinavia is a cold, gray, and largely rural landscape, similar to
the Pacific Northwest. The region is responsible for some of the most
crucial metal of the last two decades, as evident in the early
Norwegian black-metal acts and the influential Gothenburg scene. With
such a similar environment, it stands to reason that Washington would
birth equally brutal music. Behold Book of Black Earth—Seattle’s
answer to Scandinavian metal. (Sat, King Cobra, 11–11:45) BRIAN
COOK
THE BUILDERS AND THE BUTCHERS
Portland’s latest contender for “next big thing” are the Builders
and the Butchers. Fully embracing the Rose City’s prevailing lo-fi
aesthetic and love affair with all things old-timey, the band sound a
bit like an
Appalachian version of the Pixies. When it truly
clicks, it’s brilliant. (Sat, Neumo’s, 5:15-6) BARBARA MITCHELL
THE CAVE SINGERS
The Cave Singers’ Matador debut, Invitation Songs, is
the soundtrack for summer. I listen to shaker-filled “Seeds of
the Night” and starry “Helen” when I escape to the park to hike along
the trails instead of the sidewalks. If the animals in the forest
formed a band, this is what they’d sound like. (Sat,
Mainstage,
3:15–4) MEGAN SELING
CHAMPAGNE CHAMPAGNE
Champagne Champagne are the combination of DJ Gajamagic (aka Mark
Gajadhar, former drummer for the Blood Brothers, currently drumming
with Past Lives) and MC Pearl Dragon. Dragon spits pot smoke and
fire—sometimes goofy, yes, but still hot. Gajamagic supplies
ample beats, often supplementing them with live synths, melodica,
percussion, scratching, and vocals. The group are also rounded out by
genial, party-starting hypeman Thomas Gray. Like any newer group, their
shows are still a little rough around the edges, more beat-heavy good
time than pyrotechnic rapping, but that good time is without a doubt.
(Fri, King Cobra, 8:30–9:15) ERIC GRANDY
CHROMEO
Best friends since childhood, Chromeo have spent the last few years
spreading the funk. They’ve got love for Hall & Oates, but
represent with a rapper’s swagger and P-Funk’s devotion to the groove.
The pair’s feel-good songs and vocodered vocals could come off as
cheesy in other hands, but their sincere desire to get you to show off
your fancy footwork is more real than any amount of macho posturing.
(Sat, Mainstage, 7:30–8:30) DONTE PARKS
COMMON MARKET
At last year’s Block Party, local DJ Sabzi did his damage on the
tables for Blue Scholars, whose long-overdue local fame peaked under a
sunset at the corner of East Pike Street and 10th Avenue. This year,
another big Sabzi project, Common Market, take their long-awaited step
into the light. RA Scion’s positive lyrical aggression and Sabzi’s
soul-record splices mix beautifully on the forthcoming Black Patch
War, and after hearing this new shit, expect the crowd’s hands to
get up and stay up. (Fri, Mainstage, 4:30–5:15) SAM
MACHKOVECH
DARKER MY LOVE
This California outfit should be the best mod-psych act at this
year’s Block Party. Darker My Love’s hard, Sabbath-styled riffs split
the difference between epic plodders Black Mountain and the
tongue-in-cheeky Dandy Warhols, and the band’s dual songwriters take
turns revitalizing their favorite hazy genre in an impressively loud
live show. (Sat, Neumo’s, 4–4:45) SAM MACHKOVECH
KIMYA DAWSON
History will remember 2008 as the year Kimya Dawson stumbled into
Juno-induced fame, scoring a number-one album, performing for
Brangelina in Hollywood, and baffling Barbara Walters on The
View. Music lovers will remind the world that Dawson has been
making one-of-a-kind music—a sui generis soup of lo-fi folk,
pervy potty humor, indie Oprahisms, and breathtaking lyrical
acuity—since the dawn of the new century. If one of the reasons
you go to the Block Party is community, you won’t want to miss what’s
sure to be the sweetest, funniest show of the weekend. (Sat, Mainstage,
4:30–5:30) DAVID SCHMADER
DEVOTCHKA
It used to be simple: An accordion onstage meant you were watching
They Might Be Giants or “Weird Al” Yankovic. With the proliferation of
alt-rock bands influenced by Eastern European traditions, now you need
a field guide. DeVotchKa are originally native to Colorado, but migrate
extensively. They also are found on the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack. Their distinctive call sounds like one glorious,
never-ending drinking song from an imaginary Romanian wedding. (Sat,
Mainstage, 10:30–midnight) KURT B. REIGHLEY
THE DODOS
The Dodos latest album, Visitertheir debut album for French
Kissis a sturdy and sunny collection of sweet psych-folk songs made
even more charming by playful xylophone and Meric Long and Logan
Kroeber’s lullaby-like harmonies. (Fri, Neumo’s, 9–10) MEGAN
SELING
FERAL CHILDREN
Feral Children’s debut album, Second to the Last Frontier (produced by Scott Colburn), lives up to the hype that the melodic and
maniacal band earned when they came onto the scene a couple years ago.
The Stranger, CMJ, Pitchfork, and others rightfully
praise the raucousness. (Sat, King Cobra, 9:45–10:30) MEGAN
SELING
FLEET FOXES
Yes, Fleet Foxes sing the best four-part harmonies in the city. Yes,
their guitar work is impeccable—they play both acoustic and
electric, with and without bow. The peaks of their songs, weaving all
the parts together, are superbly dynamic. But the best way to
experience them is alone, in your headphones, in the woods on a hike,
not on a noisy street corner. For their set, it’ll pay to get a spot up
front since the urban environment will constantly fight to drown them
out. (Sat, Mainstage, 6–7) MEGAN SELING
GIRL TALK
Back in the days before sample clearances, innovators like Double
Dee & Steinski and Bomb the Bass built killer singles from the
oddest flotsam and jetsam of pop culture. Girl Talk extends that legacy
by crafting whole albums, like the killer new Feed the Animals,
that julienne the handiwork of others into tasty aural slaw.
Recommended for folks who think channel surfing is its own art form.
(Fri, Mainstage, 7:45–8:45) KURT B. REIGHLEY
GRAND OLE PARTY
Grand Ole Party are, in fact, a party, fueled by bluesy riffs and
head-rattling bass. Frontwoman Kristin Gundred is both drummer and sexy
siren, belting out lyrics like: “I must be the devil’s daughter, what a
dark father to dwell in me.” She’s a female Jack White. And Meg White.
But hotter than both. (Sat, Vera, 9–9:45) MEGAN SELING
THE HANDS
The Hands play fun and amped-up garage rock with the occasional
horn, a steady stream of hip-shaking keyboard, and a nod to blues now
and then. They scream their lungs out, they beat the shit out of their
drums, they jump and thrash and dance. They exist to make sure you have
a good time. (Sat, Neumo’s, 3–3:30) MEGAN SELING
HEAD LIKE A KITE
Head Like a Kite are the electro duo of Dave Einmo (guitar, synths,
sampler, vocals) and Trent Moorman (drums, Stranger contributor). New album There Is Loud Laughter Everywhere is the
dreamy soundtrack to your imaginary trip into space—pitch-black
but layered with bright, starry bursts of breathy vocals, strings, and
unexpected guitar freak-outs. (Fri, Neumo’s, 5:15–6) MEGAN
SELING
THE HEAVY HEARTS
Whether it’s acknowledged or not, there’s a tendency toward ageism
in indie rock. Local vets the Heavy Hearts may be past the point of
getting carded, but they can still wipe the floor with any young
whippersnappers foolish enough to cross swords with their vital,
vibrant, and sometimes venomous rock ‘n’ roll. (Fri, King Cobra,
11–11:45) BARBARA MITCHELL
THE HOLD STEADY
Depending on whom you ask (and how long they’ve had the record
before they answer), the Hold Steady’s Stay Positive is either a
fresh peak or more of the good ol’ same. What remains indisputable is
the Hold Steady’s live awesomeness, and Craig Finn and company’s
hard-rocking Al-Anon/revival meeting should be a major Block Party
highlight. (For extra fun, play the Hold Steady drinking game: Whenever
you hear the words “Gideon,” “Memphis,” or “drugs” you chug!) (Sat,
Mainstage, 9–10) DAVID SCHMADER
JAGUAR LOVE
The rumors of a Blood Brothers breakup started at last year’s Block
Party; those rumors turned out to be true. But the Blood Brothers are
back this year in different incarnations: Jaguar Love are just one of
three post–Blood Brothers acts on the bill (Champagne Champagne
and Past Lives are right there with ’em). Former BB singer/cult leader
Johnny Whitney and guitarist Cody Votolato have teamed up with
ex–Pretty Girls Make Graves ax-man J Clark to produce a new kind
of sonic freak-out, treading on poppier ground than BB ever dared.
Their debut full-length will be released on Matador on August 19. (Sat,
Neumo’s, 6:30–7:15) MEGAN SELING
JAY REATARD
Memphis, Tennessee, weirdo Jay Reatard is the former frontman for
the Reatards, but he’s seen most of his success as a nutty, garage-punk
solo act. His songs are sloppy and playful, full of as much energy and
humor as sincerity and talent. (Fri, Neumo’s, 10:30–11:30) MEGAN
SELING
KAY KAY AND HIS WEATHERED
UNDERGROUND
Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground kick off day two on the Block
Party’s main stage; Kay Kay are a band made for main stagesthey will
spread it 11 people wide. Flowers will adorn, horns will bend notes,
and parts from their cantata will layer into each other and run. They
are about halfway through recording their next album of new beautiful
madness. (Sat, Mainstage, 2–2:45) TRENT MOORMAN
LESBIAN
If you’re not stoned when you see Lesbian, you’ll probably wish you
were. Not that their brand of psychedelic doom metal needs marijuana to
be enjoyed, but the two just go together so well. I mean, you can eat
cereal without milk, but why would you? Inebriated or not, expect some
seriously beefy jams, quality shredding, and perhaps an out-of-body
experience or astral projection. (Fri, King Cobra, 12:15–1) JEFF
KIRBY
LES SAVY FAV
Remember that Yo La Tengo video where the record-label suits send
the band to “rock school”? (If you don’t, go to YouTube right now and
search for “Sugarcube.”) Well, if such a hallowed institution really
existed, Les Savy Fav’s Tim Harrington would surely be a tenured
professor in the Onstage Antics department. He could teach young bands
a thing or two about stripping from odd costumes to nearly nothing at
all, cutting off audience members’ hair and wearing it, building
improvised catwalks with unused stage risers, and mud
wrestling—not to mention all the usual rafter-climbing and
between-song banter. Of course, all this would be just so much
gimmickry if not for Harrington also being an inspired songwriter and
the band being pure post-punk-disco fire of the hottest order. (Fri,
Mainstage, 9:15–10:15) ERIC GRANDY
LITTLE PARTY AND THE BAD
BUSINESS
Admit it, you want to dance and have a good time. You want fun,
simple songs with catchy sing-alongs. Little Party and the Bad Business
are three young men who can help you with your desires. Their exuberant
synth pop is a guaranteed dance party, a celebration of everything
wonderful about youth and friends and hanging out. Go and sing and
dance. Be young, even if you’re old. (Sat, Vera, 2–2:30) JEFF
KIRBY
THE LOVED ONES
On the Loved Ones’ new album, Build & Burn, the band stay
on course of the punk-rock sound they’ve been making since their 2005
EP debut on Jade Tree—anthemic choruses beefed up with
brain-rattling bass and airtight, lightning-fast drumming. There are
songs that leave something to be desired (like the repetitive
“Louisiana”), but posi-anthem “Pretty Good Year” will whip the crowd
into a boiling pit of moshing and singing along. (Sat, King Cobra,
5–5:30) MEGAN SELING
MAN PLUS
Sometimes a band are so right on with their own description that a
measly little “critic” needn’t even try to top it. Example: Local
glitch dance rockers Man Plus claiming via MySpace that they sound like
“a radio station broadcast from a very queer dimension where lovers are
serial killers and friends are deadly witches.” My thoughts exactly.
(Sat, Vera, 5:15–6) MEGAN SELING
MENOMENA
Portland trio Menomena merge experimentalism with pop
songwriting—and the result is one of the most intriguing, unique
rock bands you will find. Don’t fool yourself into thinking this is
dense nerd rock; hear the sinewy strength behind the drum kit and you
will understand. Each member is a multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, and
tall person. They are a creative force, and the progression goes
thusly: CAN, the Flaming Lips, Spoon, Menomena. (Fri, Mainstage,
6:30–7:15) MATT GARMAN
MIKA MIKO
Mika Miko throw in sax and keys to crazify their standard girl punk.
They rock in the vein of X-Ray Spex (with less precise elocution and
more confetti) and call Bad Brains and Black Flag influences. MM
frequently perform at the Smell, an all-ages, DIY venue in downtown Los
Angeles, making them a “Smell band,” along with No Age, Silver Daggers,
and Abe Vigoda. (Fri, Vera, 6:30–7:15) JULIA MULLEN GORDON
NATALIE PORTMAN’S
SHAVED HEAD
NPSH’s aesthetic is hot-pink-and-fluorescent-blue school-supply
chic—which is probably because these kids were in high school,
like, months ago. Their songs are soaked in ’80s dance-hit production
values, the sort of unselfconscious homage you’d only be able to pull
off if you grew up in the ’90s (which they did). Their first album is
just out; according to their MySpace page, it’s called Glistening
Pleasure “because it glistens and is very pleasurable.” (Fri, Vera,
10:15–11:15) CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE
NEW FACES
Congratulations to new wave New Faces—the young (still in high
school) Port Townsend trio won EMP’s annual Sound Off! competition
earlier this year. While riding high on that victory, they also got
signed to local label Loveless, who’ll release the band’s debut, Two
Years, in August. All the victory is deserved—the band
freshen up a sound brought to the dance-happy masses by way of Interpol
and Franz Ferdinand. (Sat, King Cobra, 3–3:30) MEGAN SELING
PAST LIVES
Since their inception a few months back, Past Lives have been on a
prodigious tear through most every venue in town, bringing their
haunted, amphibian art punk to the people the old-fashioned way. Having
arisen from the ashes of the recently dismantled Blood Brothers, Past
Lives have easily and rapidly outpaced the shadow of their former band
and are proving one of the shining new hopes of West Coast experimental
rock. (Fri, Neumo’s, 6:30–7:15) SAM MICKENS
THE PHARMACY
Many years ago, the Pharmacy started as a scrappy lil’ band that
couldn’t quite get their bearings—some shows would be rowdy and
fun, with their sloppy twee punk (twunk?) whipping meager but
enthusiastic crowds into a frenzy. Others would be rife with technical
difficulties, broken instruments, and impatient audience members. All
grown up now, the Pharmacy still have that scrappiness in them, but
their shows have become reliably fantastic sweaty dance parties. Their
songs are stronger than ever, too—blasts of rough pop with some
basement punk attitude still lingering. (Fri, King Cobra, 5–5:30)
MEGAN SELING
THE PHYSICS
Brevity is the soul of wit. Seattle hiphop outfit the Physics took
that maxim to extremes on their recent four-song demo; the damn thing
was so succinct, you could miss its charms—soulful old-school
grooves, smart and playful rhymes—if a siren passed by. Luckily,
if new full-length Future Talk is any accurate representation,
they can stretch their set out a little longer without losing steam.
(Sat, Vera, 3–3:45) KURT B. REIGHLEY
PLEASUREBOATERS
Pleasureboaters make me more excited about punk rock than just about
any band in Seattle right now. Their debut album, ¡Gross!,
released on scrappy local label Don’t Stop Believin’, is an uneven but
promising first shot. Live, though, is where the band really shines.
Frontman Ricky Claudon writhes and spits and shudders like a seizure
victim while still somehow managing to both hit the mic to deliver
unintelligibly sneered yelps and choke acerbic squall and tense hooks
from his guitar. The rhythm section is no joke either, with Erik
Baldwin picking out leg-wobbling bass lines and Tim Cady shirtlessly
pounding on the kit like a monster. If their set doesn’t light a fire
under your ass, something is seriously wrong with you. (Fri, King
Cobra, 9:45–10:30) ERIC GRANDY
PWRFL POWER
PWRFL Power has been getting a lot of press for a while, and
journalists are usually quick to cling to the obvious: He writes cute,
whimsical, witty songs about cats and dating. His lyrics are hilarious
and his stage presence is singular. But the thing that everyone forgets
about PWRFL Power is that the motherfucker can totally shred; until his
recent relocation to Brooklyn, he was one of the top three guitarists
in the city. (Fri, Vera, 7:45–8:30) PAUL CONSTANT
SAY HI
Eric Elbogen, the only constant member of Say Hi, relocated to
Seattle from Brooklyn two years ago because he was tired of all the
hipsters. Say Hi make terrifically catchy bedroom pop that everybody in
range impulsively nods their heads to. It’s blipped-out and fun (with
some downer lyrics), evocative of Her Space Holiday. (Fri, Vera,
9–9:45) MATT GARMAN
SCHOOLYARD HEROES
Schoolyard Heroes’ most recent album, Abominations, their
third, follows the morbidly themed ways of the band’s previous
efforts—they play turbulent, Misfit-inspired death rock that’s
laced with a little metal (just enough to scare your parents) and wrap
it all up with song titles like “Dude, Where’s My Skin?” and “All the
Pretty Corpses.” Some buy their zombie act, some don’t. If their music
and shtick leave something to be desired, operatically trained Ryann
Donnelly’s shrill notes will tingle your spine. (Sat, Vera,
10:15–11:15) MEGAN SELING
SCRIBES
Local MC Scribes will definitely bring a sharp tongue to Block
Party—in his confrontational track “Distractions” he addresses
such topics as classism and corporate corruption. It’s not all heavy,
though: The sunny repetitive sample in “Soully” will sound sublime in
Saturday’s sun. (Sat, Vera, 4:15–4:45) MEGAN SELING
SING SING AFTERPARTY: PRETTY TITTY, FOURCOLORZACK, PASE ROCK, PAUL DEVRO, CHROMEO (DJ SET)
Fourcolorzack, who along with DJ Pretty Titty has made Sing Sing one
of the most dance-happy club nights in the city, knows a thing or two
about coaxing the crazy out of people. The sort of crazy where you
forget where you are. The sort of crazy where, after his set, you stop
him in the back hallway of a club to shake his hand and congratulate
him for understanding that, in the whole of the world, there are only
about 50 songs that will make an entire room of people want to move.
(Fri [Pase Rock and Paul Devro] and Sat [Fourcolorzack and Chromeo], Neumo’s, 11:30 pm–3 am) CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE
SLEEPY EYES OF DEATH
Sleepy Eyes of Death put on one of the loudest, most elaborate live
shows in this city. Srsly. You’ve no doubt heard about
it—multicolored lights, smoke machines, strobes—and it’s
all perfectly timed to lend exciting visuals to Sleepy Eyes’
enthralling wall of electronic-instrumental storms with live drumming.
(Sat, King Cobra, 6–6:45) MEGAN SELING
ANGELO SPENCER
One-man band (and Kimya Dawson hubby) Angelo Spencer tears out
raggedy blues on a battered guitar while stomping the pedal of a big
bass drum. The Frenchman-turned-Olympian’s simple songs feature
charmingly accented yells and furious strumming à la rockabilly
pioneer Hasil Adkins, to whom he dedicates a song: “Hasil Adkins was a
great man. He looked like my dad.” (Sat, King
Cobra, 2–2:30)
JULIA MULLEN GORDON
STEED LORD
Steed Lord are a storm of synths, drum machines, vocoders, neon
pants, and sunglasses—they’re summer jamz from the future, a
cracked version of U.S.E with PG-13 lyrics, and I can’t tell if they’re
talented or ridiculous. Possibly both. (Sat, Neumo’s, 9–10) MEGAN
SELING
SUPER SECRET SPECIAL GUESTS
“There was something I forgot to say/I was crying on Saturday
night.” “Oh, whatever makes her happy on a Saturday night.” “Saturday
night is the loneliest night of the week.” “Another Saturday night and
I ain’t got nobody.” “Whatever happened to Saturday night?” “Cut
through the city on a Saturday night.” “Dip dip, dive, socialize/Get
ready for the Saturday night.” “S-a-t-u-r-d-a-y night!” ‘K? (Sat,
Neumo’s 10:30–11:30) ERIC GRANDY
TALBOT TAGORA
Perhaps the most promising young band in Seattle today, Talbot
Tagora make ebullient music steeped in the full spectrum of post-punk
tradition (strange that such a thing exists). Their metal-shaving
guitars and rollicking, tom-buoyed beats lumber over their songs with
as much wobbly kineticism as Howl’s Moving Castle, but the steam
that powers their beast is a classic, pop-leaning emotionality. Huzzah
for winning primitivism and those that employ it artfully! (Fri, Vera,
4–4:45) SAM MICKENS
THEE EMERGENCY
At a recent show at King Cobra to celebrate their new release,
Solid, lead singer Dita Vox, sporting a super-hot new Mohawk,
sounded like Tina Turner having make-up sex with Karen O. The boys in
the band, with their giant Afros and thrashing-all-over-the-stage
theatrics, made the whole thing feel like a psychedelic
early–Rolling Stones freak-out. They’re the sexiest band in
Seattle right now, bar none. (Fri, Neumo’s, 7:45–8:30) PAUL
CONSTANT
THROW ME THE STATUE
On the cover of Throw Me the Statue’s first (and only, and amazing)
full-length album, Moonbeams, is a naked woman in midair, having
just been pushed off a dock by another naked woman. The album itself is
a happy-making rush of pop songs sung by Scott Reitherman, who (though
surrounded by a very competent band) does a lot of the doing in the
live show—singing his lungs out, banging on stuff, jumping back
to his guitar, etc. If anyone’s going to be struck down by heatstroke
this Block Party, it’ll be Reitherman. Quick, push him into some water.
(Sat, Neumo’s, 7:45–8:30) CHRISTOPHER
FRIZZELLE
TRUCKASAURAS
Already regaled by some as the future of techno, Truckasauras just
released their debut, Tea Parties, Guns and Valor, in May, after
years of playing house parties and street corners. The booze-swilling
group’s eight-bit electro complements their analog synths and drum
machines with a vintage Nintendo Game Boy, displaying a surprising
degree of musicality even after the gimmick wears off. (Fri, King
Cobra, 6–6:45) DONTE PARKS
U.S.E
U.S.E are finally—finally, finally!—holed up in the
recording studio, working on the follow-up to 2005’s giddy eponymous
debut. The intervening years, with the blowup of nouveau disco and the
live return of Daft Punk, should have, by all accounts, seen the band
rocketing to international rave-pop superstardom. Instead, for whatever
reasons, U.S.E remain primarily a Seattle treasure, and there’s really
no better way to enjoy their ecstatic shiny-happy lovefest than
outdoors in the Emerald City summertime (we love it). Expect vocoders,
feather boas, one uninterrupted thumping beat, and the dumbest, funnest
dance party this side of Girl Talk. (Fri, Mainstage, 5:30–6:15)
ERIC GRANDY
VAMPIRE WEEKEND
Vampire Weekend’s rapid ascent to the top of the indie heap has not,
of course, been without its detractors. Yes, boat shoes. Yes, college.
Yes, “Upper West Side Soweto.” But fuck a backlash—this band is
great. Their songs are smart, funny, and fun (indie rock can be fun,
remember), full of inspired wordplay and youthful ennui and melodies
that stick in your head for days. If you want to hate these guys for
their class background or higher education or supposed stylistic
appropriations, that’s fine, but it means you’re missing out on one of
the finest pop-rock albums of the past year. (Fri, Mainstage,
10:45–midnight) ERIC GRANDY
VELELLA VELELLA
With only four members, Velella Velella cut corners by skipping a
live drummer in favor of an iPod. But purists won’t bemoan a lack of
action onstage for Seattle’s best disco-loving funk-pop group. The
fuzzy organ notes, the lumbering bass, the pounding synthesizers, the
occasional sparkles of flute, the stomping dance moves, the multipart
falsetto coos… iPod or no, Velella Velella’s live dance party will
help you find the rhythm somehow. (Sat, King Cobra, 8:30–9:15)
SAM MACHKOVECH
VOYAGER ONE
Voyager One are proof that computers dream. Their psychedelic and
pounding waves of shoe-gazed sound are long, distant, and covered in
electron shells. When computers are shut down, they dream in
soundtracks of Voyager One. Ambiguous visions of multiprojector story
lines play. The drives and circuit boards echo and dip back into the
mechanistic and spacing orbits of Voyager One’s well-carved songs.
(Sat, King Cobra, 7:15–8) TRENT MOORMAN
KRISTEN WARD
Her big-voiced, husky laments make Seattle songwriter Kristen Ward
sound much older than her 25 years. She may be next in the line of
successful local alt-country chanteuses, following Neko Case and Jesse
Sykes. Her latest album, Drive Away, features Mike McCready of
Pearl Jam on one track, and slick production by Brad Zeffren on the
rest. (Sat, Neumo’s, 2–2:30) JULIA MULLEN GORDON
THE WHORE MOANS
At last year’s Block Party, in the midst of playing blistering rock
and roll that nods heavily to both Crimpshine and Murder City Devils,
the Whore Moans stopped the show for a minute to give fashion tips to
the crowd. They wanted to start a new trend, “Dad on Vacay,” and
bassist Ryan Devlin modeled the new look that consisted of boat shoes,
cutoff shorts, a cheesy tourist tank top, and Ray-Bans with a neck
strap. Only rockers as confident and hilarious as the Whore Moans could
pull that off. (Sat, King Cobra, 4–4:30) MEGAN SELING
ZEKE
Watch any episode of Behind the Music and you get the same
ol’ shit—drugs, fighting, and general dysfunction. Bands get old
and fat. They break up or grow boring. Zeke are too smart, too pissed,
and too fucked up for that nonsense. Yeah, they’ve been through a lot
over the last 15 years, but they’re still faster, tighter, and meaner
than most punks can ever dream to be. (Sat, King Cobra, 12:15–1)
BRIAN COOK