WTF Should I Do Tonight: Old Port Weekend Edition!

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO my brosefs, brosefinas and brosefxs! What is crappening, my dudes? Look, it was a long week. A couple of nights ago I did the unthinkable - I purchased and then ate ice cream - ICE CREAM - and then promptly got a tummy ache and my face got all swole up the next morning. I looked like a tub of room temperature ham salad trying to squeeze its way through your nana’s support pantyhose, you know, the kind that came out of a plastic egg. Nasty business, is my point. And WHY did I consume a known allergy food with reckless abandon?! Girl, I was stressed out. Tired too. Just feeling a little bit exposed on the internet, for a hot second. But then I got over it, I DO WHAT I WANT, and you know what, life is fucking FINE. I’m fine. People are way too worried about their “reputations” and “status.” Like, oh, I’m sorry, are you British fucking Royalty all of a sudden? You think anyone will remember who you are in five minutes after you leave the room? Not likely. There are people in this town I’ve met like 25 times, for whom I have done one-on-one favors, and every time I see them, they still introduce themselves to me and shake my hand like it’s the first time we’ve met. Nobody gives a shit about any of us. Call people out. Stand up for yourself. LIVE THE DREAM! NOTHING MATTERS! NOTHING AT ALL!!!

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I will say this though, a heartfelt message for anyone thinking about all this MMC mess and all of the other swirling effluvia of rape culture and are maybe rolling around some personal stuff in your head: you know, I’ve been so ashamed of all the things that I’ve done, that I’ve gone through, but there’s really no way to live with those things in shame and not be ashamed of who I am. So, I have this choice to make, like, share all the “bad” stuff alongside the good, and maybe, SINCE WE’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT SKEKSES ANYWAY, things will kind of look like this:

Yeah, so whatever. Let’s party, fellow sluts!


Friday June 8


YIKES, it is the weekend of the Old Port Festival! That dream within a dream in which every Harley-owning douche from Windham comes out of the woodwork to feel “cool” for one night and take in them big city sights and sit at the Porthole with their Susan from Accounts Payable second wives and turn our stomping grounds into a real depressing mess of sad Maine strip mall culture. YEAH! There’s still some good shit to do, tho. To wit:


Square Hop is happening again. They put a bunch of music types in parks and hope for the best. From 6-8pm, you’ve got Maine Marimba Ensemble at Post Office Park, Casco Bay Movers at Monument Square, the MAMM kids at Congress Square Park and PortFringe Theater Festival at Longfellow Square. Sounds ok, it’s free, just use your feet, dumbass, walk around a bit. You’re the one that’s always complaining you have no money and there’s nothing good to do anyway.


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I’ve written about the moving, unique music of Foret Endomie before, but I’ll say it again: not for yer Tom Petty loving older brother, this stuff is sort of a composer’s type of music. They’re experimenting, and not all of it works, but most of it does, and it’s interesting. Fucking interesting, I mean jesus goddam christ aren’t you just sick to death of being bored by EVERYTHING? Yeah, me too. If you listen to local music and love the raw strange provided by The Asthmatic, Colby Nathan or Johnny Cremains, you get it. They are at The Apohadion with Ora Cogan and Falsa.



YeaahhhhHH! it’s El Malo at Blue! Look, you know my position on Blue, I have a strong desire for a door charge so we don’t have to go through this awkward “Hello, thanks for coming, please put two weeks’ salary into this basket for these performers who probably owe you $25 for weed already” situation every time, but El Malo brings that hot summah party to Blue when they do their Friday gig, and I am SHOWING UP FOR IT. Everyone else shows up for it too. The bar is always a mess, it’s always crowded, but you know what, you’ll fucking have a good time and see like 10 people you know.


It’s also Pride month, if you haven’t heard or if you’re a big ugly bigot (which, I mean: go away, this blog isn’t FOR YOU, much like Lemonade wasn’t FOR white women and our US government isn’t FOR its people), so get thee over to this Pride dance party at Brian Boru and elbow the normcore straights out the door for one night only. And, hey, heteros, remember: queer dance parties are fun as shit so I’m sure you’ll want to go, but you are responsible for creating safe spaces and I swear to fucking christ if I hear about one of you seeing some crime on the queers and not doing anything about it, I will straight up destroy you online as best I can. If I can come for a senator, I can come for you. Count on it.

More? Fine! Check the calendar, dink. Enjoy!

Saturday June 9

There’s actually a lot of interesting shit going around Portland today/tonight, so I won’t be able to go too deep (I’m not like I used to be, I started to write a music blog and got straight up detoured into a fucking blog about trauma recovery and feminism, HOW THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT COMING, but I still have a love of the game - with limited time. Anyway, look, no better weekend to tie one on and go around doing whatever. So here’s some choices:

Mathew’s kicks off their annual anti-Old Port Fest rooftop party weekend at 1pm. The show is cheap, the drinks are cheap, and frankly where the fuck else would you go if you’re a townie without a camp to which to escape? This year’s Saturday lineup has some of my favorites, including Crunchcoat and Sarah Violette, and damn do I love seeing these killer women-fronted bands headlining.


The Thirsty Pig has some hot daytime action for you too, except some assholes who are most likely very white and very wealthy complained about too much noise and now the Pig can’t have music on the patio. THANK GOD YOU NO LONGER HAVE TO LISTEN TO THAT DASTARDLY MUSIC, YOU FUCKING DULLARDS. Seriously, why do you even live in a city if MUSIC bothers you? MUSIC.



Every once in awhile you get a really cool, low-fi opportunity to hear something legendary in a totally offbeat venue. Tonight, you get The Skatalites with Zeme Libre opening at Bayside Bowl. You might know their very famous 1964 hit “The Guns of Navarone,” or maybe you just really like reggae and ska, but either way, these dudes have influenced groups from The Wailers and The Police, and they’ve had some crazy history in their 50 years making music. Anyway, this is not to be missed.

Local Sprouts has a darling little thing with some musical nerd/genius types, Jeff Beam, Pat Keen, Mike O’Hehir and Kafari. This is at 8pm. Is Local Sprouts open for dinner now? What is even going on with their hours?  

Check out this thing, SPACE has The Rose Quintet playing Elvis Costello’s vital album “The Juliet Letters.” I bet this is going to be awesome, I just don’t have the ability to sit through things anymore, my old hips and back being what they are. Now, if they could just wheel in a memory foam mattress and someone to rub my feet, that’s another story.

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Lastly, because I’m running out of time, I want to mention two other things - BRZOWSKI with Billy Woods and Shameek the God at Genos, and Id M Theft Able at Sun Tiki with Daniel Arcane, Gothic Croutons, Greasy Grass and +1 at Sun Tiki. No idea what any of those acts are, but if we’re judging by Id M Theft Able’s reputation for bizarro-world soundscaping, I’m sure it will be a real trip.

Sunday, June 10

For Sunday, I just want to mention the lineup for Mathew’s Sunday rooftop party. Check it:

Battery Steele -12:30

BeautifulWeird - 1:10

Blinded Messiah - 2:00

Acadia - 2:45

Dearbones - 3:30

Savor- 4:10

Weakened Friends- 4:50

TheWorst - 5:35

Sweet Heat - 6:15

Dirty Love - 7:00

Buzzy - 7:40

Wait - 8:30

Looks pretty good. Also, you could potentially go see the Decemberists and M. Ward at the State, but you would have needed to have gotten tickets already because that shit is sold the fuck out. Pro tip: roll around finding super drunk people wearing Decemberists t shirts or who otherwise look like the kind of early aughts hipster who would go to see the Decemberists, and just tell them they’re too drunk to go to a concert and convince them to sell you their tickets. That’s my story, I’m sticking to it.  

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