MFNW Day Five Retrospective

Perhaps my only regret about Saturday, Day 5 of MFNW, was that while dressing in the morning I decided for some reason to wear the "I Smell Hippies" t-shirt that I had bought at a T. Hardy Morris concert at The Earl. The sun had finally come out, the first sunny day since I had left Seattle, warming the day up to the point where one could wear a simple t-shirt all day and still be comfortable, and I thought it would be fun to wear a "I Smell Hippies" t-shirt in Portland.  However, the statement was largely misunderstood by the good Portlanders - I got stares of disapproval from a lot of older, presumably former hippies, curious looks from a lot of young people, and hearty approval from Republican creeps and frat boys I didn't want to have anything to do with.  I wound up having to explain myself a lot that day, and worked out a standard reply to the question I kept getting, "So what do hippies smell like?" that went "Oh, you know, bodies, patchouli, and, um, weed - all the things I like."  That seemed to throw people off the trail enough for me to get on with my day.

Anyway, like the previous several days, Day 5, Saturday, started at The Doug Fir, this time with a noon-time set by New Jersey's Titus Andronicus.  Wearing his own band's t-shirt, frontman Patrick Stickles had perhaps the best line of the day, "I didn't start a punk-rock band because I wanted to have places to be at 11:00 in the morning."  It was perhaps fortunate for him (or maybe for us) that the 10:30 am sessions of the previous days weren't held Saturday morning.

KEXP had several other good sets scheduled for the day (The Dodos, The Thermals, and Sonny & The Sunsets), but I skipped those and went to the Oregon Public Broadcasting (OPB) party at Mississippi Studios in NE Portland instead.  Like the totally awesome Marmoset party of Day 3, free beer and music were provided to the attendees, this time by OPB as their way of saying "thank you" to their supporters.  

When I got there, Portland's The Parson Redheads were playing out on the patio.   We've seen The Parson Parson Redheads before, opening at The Earl for Viva Voce, and as I hadn't heard anything from them since, it was nice to be reminded that they were still around.

The next band up was Portland's soul-punk outfit Magic Mouth, playing inside Mississippi Studios and fronted by singer Chanticleer Tru.  I didn't get any good pictures of the set, but found this one by the magic of Google's image search.  I posted an OPB video of the Magic Mouth set here on this blog last September; a sample song is posted below.

Tru is a pretty interesting dude.  In addition to fronting Magic Mouth, during Portland's Time-Based Art festival he was also co-host of a "post-realness drag ball" called Critical Mascara, part drag ball and competition, part dance party and performance spectacle. "Want to flaunt your highest glamour?" the web site asks, "Turn tragic into magic? Celebrate the evolution of queer consciousness? Are you hungry to prance, vogue, dance and shimmer? Wanna chance at a cash prize? Win spectacular gifts made by local artists? Want to step into the spotlight at an international arts festival and SHINE?"

"Be you boy, girl, queen, princess, nancy, goblin, unicorn, femme, butch, dandy, fae or the hottest slice of tail since the fall of the Roman Empire YOU ARE INVITED!"

Alas, I was already back home when Critical Mascara was held, so that's why you didn't hear about me winning.

Anyway, after Magic Mouth, the band Tiburones featuring Luz Elena Mendoza of Y La Bamba took over the patio.

At the OPB party, I ran into some of the people that I had met at the Marmoset party, including an older couple who had invited me to their home for dinner, wine, and music at Marmoset but seemed very disappointed by my t-shirt at OPB. I also met one half of the environmentally-conscious gay couple from Marmoset, who told me at OPB that his parents were in town meeting his fiancee.  It wasn't until several days later that I realized that doesn't necessarily mean anymore that he wasn't gay.

The main event of the OPB party was the set inside Mississippi Studios by Radiation City.  Ironically, or maybe not ironically, Radiation City was also one of the highlights of the Marmoset party.  

OPB has posted videos of the entire Radiation City set on their website.  Here's a taste (as if you needed any more incentive to go take a listen):

I love this band, even if they do still remind me of the Scooby-Doo gang.  In fact, maybe I love them because they remind me of the Scooby-Doo gang.

The OPB party wrapped up after the Radiation City set, and I went "home" (hotel) to get cleaned up and refreshed for the rest of the day.  However, a funny thing happened to me on my way to Pioneer Courthouse Square (Portland's Living Room).  I told part of this story on Facebook, but held the full story back since some of my Facebook friends wouldn't have understood.  I stopped at the Sizzle Pie next to Powell's bookstore for two slices of pizza, and the cashier looked a little skeptical and told me that the second slice was on the house because I might not like my order number.  He showed me the slip, and it said "666."  

I did the only thing I could think of, and threw my fist up, my fingers in devil horns, and said, "Hail Satan." The cashier laughed and did the same, and everyone else behind the counter thought it was so funny that when my order was ready and I came back up to the counter, everybody shouted, "Hail Satan!"

So basically, the devil got me a free slice of pizza.  Hail Satan!

Meanwhile, back at Pioneer Courthouse Square, someone was sitting in my usual spot way in the back of the square by the food and beer vendors, so instead I moseyed into the small crowd in front of the stage and wound up getting not only a much better view, but much more immersion in the experience of Deep Sea Diver, Jessica Dobson's (The Shins) solo project. 

I was only two rows of people back from the stage, and I could swear that at one point of the show, Jessica saw the "I Smell Hippies" on my t-shirt and broke into a big old grin.

Following Deep Sea Diver, we saw Thao & The Get Down Stay Down for, like, the third time in a week, but each time was just as good as the one before.  I did get to wondering, though, how many shows I'd have to attend before they took out a restraining order against me.

The headliners at Pioneer Courthouse Square that night were Seattle's The Head and The Heart.  We've seen THATH a couple times before, once with Thao at Variety Playhouse in 2011 (they seem to like to tour with Thao, or vice-versa), and again at Athens' 40-Watt Club in 2012.

THATH are touring in support of their new album, Let's Be Still, but the audience was about 10 times more responsive to the older songs from their debut, eponymous album than the new songs.  I've been listening to the new album a lot to familiarize myself with the songs (they're coming to Atlanta next week with Thao), but can't say that I don't still prefer the older songs.

From Pioneer Courthouse Square it was a short walk to The Roseland Theater for a magnificent, mind-blowing, single-song performance by Godspeed You! Black Emperor.  As spectacular as their playing was, however, it may be the black-and-white video show projected behind the band that I'll always remember, or the slow, patient build up to their composition's climactic conclusion.  

It wasn't as easy to get from The Roseland Theater to my next destination, The Bunk Bar, as it was to get to Roseland from Pioneer Courthouse Square, but I did manage to catch a bus that got me to within a half-mile of the bar, and I had to take a late night walk for the remaining distance through a desolate but spooky warehouse district.

When I got there, it was after midnight and the Brooklyn band Love as Laughter were on stage.  The place was packed (note the fans outside watching in through the windows), but I managed to find an empty barstool to watch from for at least a little while.

The problem with the barstool was that no matter how I sat, my knees stuck out into the narrow space between the bar and the crowd, in the way of everybody trying to get to and from the bathrooms. So despite the comfort of taking my weight off my feet for a while, after Love As Laughter, I found a spot to stand near the stage was watched Sonny and the Sunsets tear the place up, playing their strange garage-rock/freak-folk hybrid to the dancing audience well into Sunday morning.

After the show, as I left The Bunk Bar to head home, a young woman dressed for some reason in some sort of Little Bo Beep outfit (don't ask me why - it was well over a month until Halloween) stopped me and asked me who T Hardy Morris was and why it was that I smelled hippies (oh, right, I had almost forgot the t-shirt).  We talked for a while, and I tried to describe Morris, his band Dead Confederate, Cabbagetown, and the Atlanta music scene.  She liked the name "Cabbagetown," and when she came to realize that I wasn't a completely intolerant redneck, she let me go with a kiss on the cheek, got on her bicycle, and rode off into the Oregon night.  

It took me well over a half hour to walk back across the Willamette River and back to my hotel on the far side of town, and it wasn't until about 3 am that I was able to finally get my tired ass between some sheets and my face onto a pillow.

So that was Day 5.  I posted a review of the day the following Sunday when my recollections were still fresher than they are now, and any discrepancies between the two accounts are probably due to the fogs of time and memory.   Also, additional pictures are posted over on the Flickr site.