MOG

When I walked into Satyricon—Portland’s oldest punk club—just before midnight, I bumped into my photographer friend, Karyn-Lynn and was told me to turn around. "We got to get out of here. Do I have a bruise under my eye?" She asked. She had tried to push her way through the crowd to snap some shots of Monotonix frontman Levi "Ha Haziz" (Yomtov) Elvis and instead received an elbow in the face. The Israeli rockers had the crowd so worked up (as they are well known to do), they had transformed into a force to messy aggressive pit to reckon with—and we reckoned we best not. Though I’ve seen Monotonix before, I was disappointed, yet not surprised: It had been a strange night out.

The elbow is coming. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

But I guess that’s the way it goes. Every multi-day music festival I’ve ever attended presents an off night. And last night felt, well, off—not a loss altogether, but a wee off anyway. We started with The Muslims, a San Diego punk band, at Dante’s. Their short catchy punk songs were ridiculously simple yet immediately powerful. The lead vocalist/growler seemed to be in a trance as he moved to and fro, to and fro, spit-shouting simple lines like: "You work, work, work … So you take, take, take." The sparse, gritty set (a little Black Flag, a little Misfits) was basic and raw and impressive and particularly engaging thanks to the odd, inexpressive presence of the lead.

The Muslims. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

Inexpressive but good. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

Following the Monotonix letdown, we caught John Reiss’ latest project, The Night Marchers, back at the mid-sized Dante’s venue. The Rocket From the Crypt (R.I.P.) and Hot Snakes main-man powered through a set of class Reiss high energy rock ‘n’ roll—this time, with a small (very small) dose of country. The band emanated obvious authority and experience, demonstrating how good musicians can mature without snuffing out the fire.

Speedo! photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

The evening closed on a high note with Portland’s much-loved folk rock ensemble The Builders And The Butchers at Berbati’s where every square-foot of venue space was overpopulated and concertgoers seemed more like a collective of recently converted revivalists than fans. The group—two happy bobbing drummers, a mandolin and banjo player, a keyboardist, lead-singer/guitarist and a revolving cast of other instruments—performed with the fire and intensity of old gospel and anachronistic American grit. Their thunderous, warmly textured collection of raw and jangling sounds bring The Decemberists to mind, which, naturally, also brings Neutral Milk Hotel to the forefront. Still, The Butchers have enough intensity and soul to get away with it. Their rollicking Old Timey instrumentation and impassioned playing provided the perfect encore to an odd sort of night out.

Exorcise the devil. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

Building and butching. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

Sermonizing. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette

Pretty good for an off night. photo by Karyn-Lynn Fisette