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This weekend!

Posted by MEGAN SELING at 05:42 PM

If you need something to do this weekend, you’ve got a lot of choices. Here’s what I personally recommend…

Tonight, Unnatural Helpers are at the Comet tonight with the Tall Birds (ex members of the Catheters), and the Trashies (really sloppy but entertaining punk). Shoplifting are playing at Studio 108. You can also catch an all-ages show at Redmond’s Old Fire House with the Schoolyard Heroes and Speaker Speaker!

Tomorrow, Saturday, Hypatia Lake, Siberian, and Wesafari are at the Comet, while Paint it Black, the Loved Ones, and the Shook Ones are sure to turn the Paradox into a sweaty pit of kids.

And Sunday, Pinback (swoon!) is at the Showbox. They’re great.

You can read about all these and more in the Up & Coming section. Also, be sure to check out
the Stranger’s Bands page, where you can look up and listen to hundreds of local bands.

Comments

1

Actually, that was Shoplifting, Mecca Normal, Steve Fisk and The Punks at Studio 108. An astonishing line-up of homegrown old school/new school art punk power. Cool place. Cool night.

2

How was the show, Richard? I was too exhausted to make it out.

3

awww swooning over rob crow.

4

Strictly top drawer, if you like this kind of thing. I got there a little before nine as The Punks finished. Missed 'em. Darn! But Fisk gave a keyboard art noodle jam with percussionist and video mixer. The piece built well, had nice extravagance and meshed suggestively with the video smear. A successful paranoid/psychedelic happening. Made me think of Reagan era tape-loop resistance updated to digital boxes. Mecca Normal were true to form: Jean Smith's ice pick in the face delivery of polemic song-narratives, several of these following her recent immersive researches in on-line dating encounters and their aftermath, supported by David Lester's uptight guitar virtuosity. Great Pete Townshend windmill strums, remarkable one-handed neck-toss, neck-catch, dada jam. And eighties night continued into the jagged asymmetric post-punk Shoplifting jams. It was my first time to see them, years after being implored to catch them, and I was really eager but maybe I put my spitwads in my ears too tight. I just heard a lot of hard loping thumping through the first few numbers and I couldn't see anything despite climbing perilously onto the back of a tube-framed hammock sofa. But later I pulled my spitwads out and could follow the individual voices of the guitars. The drums won me over first and then the scribbling guitar. I think the band loosened up, or maybe it was me, or maybe it was the crowd packed tight and starting to move. The last three pieces and the encore were the jagged young sublime. The space was huge and great. The art seemed like it was mostly just starting out. The people at the door and such were like sweet, slightly distant goofs. During Mecca Normal I went looking for my friend in the big room, the main gallery, but all I saw was cigarette smoke. So much cigarette smoke.

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