WHAT IS UP dicklets, how was your week. Is everyone ready to party again? Have you had enough nights of self-loathing, cowering under the covers watching your favorite episode of Friends over and over again for comfort, crying into you dirty, dirty beard, ruminating about how nobody will ever love you because you lost your house keys, your pants and somehow, inexplicably, all of the hair around your left nipple on Saturday night? Have the hazy visions of vomiting “Boo Berry Punch” out the window of the cab subsided? Have you spent enough time staring in the mirror searching in vain for the answer to the question of how you could have slept with your brother’s fiance (it’s because you have a thing for slutty nurses, that’s how, you fucking dumbass, and also? Get a better “thing.” Slutty nurse is so boring my brain cells are like, sighing in resignation and packing their bags for a more interesting clime)?
This is the treachery of Halloween falling on a weekend - everyone goes fucking bananas. You know, kind of like how you did as a kid on halloween when you got candy. Except instead of flipping out over candy you’re like holy shit I’m going to drink all the booze and fuck as many people as I can and finally wear that merkin I ordered on Amazon years ago and BLOOOOHEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAA GIGGITY GIGGITY BARF.
What a delight! As for me, the major blow to my ego came on Halloween weekend when, at an “afterparty” at a very, very accommodating young gentleman’s house, I jumped into a dance circle when the Mariah Carey came on and was immediately shunned by the other women dancing therein. I was like, OH SORRY I DIDN’T REALIZE IT WAS 1990 AND I WAS AT A DINNER DANCE WITH MY EIGHTH GRADE CLASSMATES. Ugh, I mean fuck right off, right? Dance with me, you stupid bitches. Yes, I call you bitches and that’s girl on girl crime but you started it, so now I lash back. I LASH BACK NOW, YOU HEAR ME?! You cannot reasonably expect me to not try to dance with anyone, anyone at all, who is dancing when any of the following come on the high fidelity stereo system:
“My Boo” by the Ghost Town DJs
“Ain’t Nobody” by Chaka Khan
Look, you get the idea. Also, I am a very good dancer. I can drop it like it’s hot OR throw my hands in the air, since I’m a true player. Alright.
Anyway, though it may feel like it’s “too soon,” and you haven’t really crested the hill of your partied-out refractory period from Halloween, there are in fact many great choices for what the fuck you should do this weekend. So sack and or ovary up you goddam panty hats, and let’s get this fucking weekend started already.
Friday, November 6
Alright you fucking scrubs, it’s the art walk on Friday, and this is probably the second to last one that you’ll actually have a chance of attending before the spring, because seriously who wants to snowshoe to art galleries once January comes. My show at Geno’s has been taken down and in its place you have the Diorama Rama! Which is - you guessed it - a show of dioramas including a life sized diorama of Billy Bauhaus who will be singing from within his life sized diorama. After that, Genos has Helloooooooo Nurse: A Cabaret Fundraiser for RAD Remedy, which is a start up community health resource for trans, queer, and gender noncomformist people. Cool.
Across the street, Blue has their First Friday lineup, which is Darlin’ Corey, Okbari and The Evan King Group. That is a diverse lineup.
Empire has Akela Moon, which is a soul/funk/latin/afrobeat inspired dance band helmed by Jya Marie, who you may know from the Tribute 2 series at Empire, or from singing with any number of other Portland musicians. She’s everywhere, you see, doing cover after cover in cover band after cover band (Terrorist!! *shakes fist*). However, Akela Moon is an original property, so come one come all and bring your dance card.
Over at Portland House of Music, Sparks the Rescue are taking a break from touring to play a hometown show. They are I guess one of Portland’s most well-known bands from the new generation now that Rustic Overtones and Paranoid Social Club are celebrating their birthdays with those “Over the Hill” mylar balloons and shit and The Mallet Brothers and Sparks the Rescue are dancing on their freshly dug graves. I encourage all members of bands to go to this show, though I know you won’t, and you won’t because once a band “breaks” nobody wants to support them anymore, but supporting everyone from our scene just makes our scene stronger. So go fucking see Sparks the rescue, you rusty curmudgeon.
Asylum, as always, has Plague, and Flask has the 5 year anniversary of LOVE, their house and techno night. Salvage has Tall Light Rebellion and Dogfish has jazz with The Waiters and - OF COURSE! - Travis James Humphrey for happy hour. So Travis. Much Humphrey. wow.
Space has the last performance of Whoop De Woo in the annex - metal band Eastern Spell, accordian band Maine Squeeze and ladychoir Musica De Filia all play. Cool shit.
Saturday, November 7
It’s supposed to be very warm out this weekend, so go outside, cock rot, don’t stay inside marinating in your college sweatpants all weekend. Anyway, go out, get your cheeks rosy and shit and then come back to town and hang the fuck out. PHOME kills it AGAIN this weekend with Samuel James, a very modern blues performer who you want to see. He’s playing with James Keyes who I have not seen, but this show looks hot… I may or may not have a crush on Samuel James because he’s a megababe who can wear a hat and a shirt or no shirt at all.
Bayside Bowl has a Maine Roller Derby Party with Hessian and Tiger Bomb, and the Upper Crust who are from Boston. Partying with derby girls is a very specific thing and if you like it you know you like it, so you already know if you’re going to this.
Salvage has The Cosmopolitanaires, Salvage has Matt Meyer and The Gumption Junction, Flask has out of town DJ collective Scientific Sound.
Geno’s has Boston punk band Unnatural Axe with Big Meat Hammer, Cryptid Slaughter, Pink Sock and Black Hatch. I was with a friend just yesterday remarking on how Geno’s is a real gem of a club and how its days are probably numbered, which is unfortunate, but there is another gem at Geno’s that you might not realize - have you ever picked bartender Kaitlyn’s brain about music? She’s basically an encyclopedia of Northeastern punk bands. I’m hoping to help produce an oral history project with Kaitlyn this coming spring, so stay tuned on that. I can’t wait! Anyway, during set breaks, I bet you can learn a lot of shit from Kaitlyn, so drink often and drink profusely at Geno’s and get lurnt up, you trash bag of sentient, emotional sludge.
Sunday, why don’t you go to The Couch and play board games and listen to local artists play their tunes? Open mic is pretty great if you compose music - you can learn a lot about the process of songwriting and performance just by hearing a song evolve through its various stages of development. You can get ideas, learn about other artists’ process, it’s all good shit. Maybe even hear something you like, against all odds (PS I can’t even tell you how excited I am that Phil Collins is coming back and have you heard this interview with him and Starlee Kine from This American Life? It’s darling) . But playing fucking Jenga while listening to those new artists? GOLD, you motherfuckers, PURE GOLD. Get over there and let’s do this.