The Best Kind of Planet

Watch my stopwatch, people. Right now you’re melting into a river of calm hypnosis while waves of round bass and currents of soothing female vocals sweep you away in a magical whirlpool of color and sound. Now the whole thing explodes as a single crash cymbal blows up somewhere nearby, and you’re suddenly drifting at a much faster pace. Your heart’s probably pounding for a second, but then you realize there’s nothing to fear in this new world of Portishead-esque trip-hop, and you begin to enjoy the rapid-fire fills and spills of the entire experience.



There’s a scratch in your ears that you didn’t even notice, but you go with it for lack of control; you’re entranced, under the spell of Cooper Gillespie’s breathy voice as it swells up from beneath like an undercurrent to slow your pulse. But before the calm can become too deeply ingrained, a rich downtempo hip-hop session led by Greg Gordon begins somewhere very close by, and the ride sets off again faster than ever. Beats, raps, keyboards and thick, hearty bass lines hook you in (no, that’s not a bass fishing pun), and then you’re dancing atop a gigantic, groovy wave of diamonds and lights.

Then, out of nowhere, a break. A sudden halt and the sea of sound flatlines, jolting you back to reality as you realize how ridiculously tripped out the last four minutes of your life have been. Holy shit, man, you’re not on a ride at all. You’re listening to Mad Planet, and it fucking rules.

Mad Planet plays at 10 pm Wednesday, Nov. 3, at Luckey’s. 21+. $3.

EW 10/28

Pirates, Gypsies, Whatever.

Remember that part in Peter Pan where Captain Hook and his crew sing and dance around in a loud and unruly fashion while accordion music plays in the background? Gogol Bordello brings this exact image to mind every time their aptly classified “gypsy punk” music blasts through my headphones.



Currently, the group stands with about nine members hailing from all kinds of different places — Russia, Ukraine, Ethiopia, Scotland, Israel, Ecuador and the U.S. — and this enormous collective gets as rowdy on stage as any other punk band. The real difference, however, is that gypsy punk is an entirely different breed of music. For starters, most of the instruments are acoustic — à la Violent Femmes, perhaps — and many more elements are incorporated into the music: Cajun influences with accordion and fiddle, a thick background of percussion that takes drumming beyond the “doo-ka” rhythms of traditional punk, and heavy inclusion of dance all blend together to create an entity quite unlike anything else under the punk umbrella.

Fans of DeVotchKa and Motherhead Bug will certainly feel at home in the crowd at a Gogol Bordello show, and while many of the lyrics are difficult to make out, it’s really not hard to find yourself humming along with the catchy melodies that often shine through the chaos. So whether Gogol Bordello reminds you of Captain Hook having a good time with his crew or just a bunch of crazy Europeans putting on a freaking awesome show, this is sure to be a sweaty night. Gogol Bordello and Forro in the Dark play at 8 pm Sunday, Oct. 17, at the McDonald Theatre; $22.50 adv., $25 door.

EW 10/14

21 Is Just a Number

Things to do in Lane County while you’re still young

Sure, 21 means you can go and buy some cheap beer and make an ass of yourself a little more easily, and yes, it means that you can get into clubs and venues that don’t allow minors. But beyond that, 21 really doesn’t have that much going for it. So for all you freshmen sitting there in your cramped little dorm room filled with anxiety over your minor status and first year away from home, let the troubles wash away. There’s plenty to be done!

As the Oregon sky tries to crap out those last rays of sunshine this year, the last thing that anybody wants to do is waste them. Disc golf can be found all over the place, and the community that plays it is incredibly welcoming and fun. Then consider all of the other activities that a new place has to offer — hiking, malls, movies, bowling — the list is, as with any city, almost endless.

But I’ll be honest with you: The real anxiety will most likely hit you at night. Again, goosfraba, it will probably go a little something like this: The sun sets, you’re thinking “Oh shit!” because around you the city is crawling into bars and night clubs, McMenamins isn’t allowing minors anymore, and 7-Eleven is packed with people buying booze, which you can’t do without standing outside handing money to strangers in hopes they’ll score you a six-pack.



Chill out, man, there’s plenty to do after the sun has absconded with Eugene’s sobriety. The McDonald Theatre often has great gigs, and the WOW Hall and Wandering Goat also have all-ages shows for low prices.

Oh yeah, and just because you can’t get into clubs doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy their atmosphere: Some of the most intriguing conversations to be had come from buying a pack of smokes and sitting outside John Henry’s on ’80s night. Side note: Even if you don’t smoke, cigarettes are useful, as they become a catalyst for conversation.

Campus has a whole load of nighttime events that should be kept in mind also. Movie nights, Hamilton basement shows, root-beer pong tournaments, Karaoke, ultimate Frisbee games and more are all right past your doorstep over there, so don’t go complaining that campus is boring. Walk outside and see what’s up.

Now I think it’s time we address the thing that you’ve been keeping in the back of your mind while you read. Not that we’re encouraging this, but finding alcohol before you turn 21 really isn’t the feat of the century. If you feel like drinking will liven your night up (which, let’s face it, you probably do), then go do it somewhere safe. Or at least somewhere that won’t end up with you falling in the river. I guess what I’m saying is: Don’t drink at the river. MIPs all round?

No thanks. There are plenty of parties to be hopped and plenty of people with houses. Chances are that if you know somebody willing to buy you alcohol, then you know someone with a house. Please, I reiterate, be safe. With that September riot still fresh in our minds (and the minds of the police), it’s probably better for everyone that the drinking be conducted indoors. Besides, welcome to Oregon; it’s going to be raining anyway.

Phew, lecture over. Feel free to take a break from reading and get a glass of milk.

If you’re not really a fan of city nightlife, a good option is checking out the local hot springs like McCredie and Wall Creek. They’re about 45 minutes down Hwy. 58, but well worth the night drive. You’ll find yourself out in the middle of nowhere with only nature around you. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining because the water keeps you plenty warm. And if you go in the daytime, Oakridge has awesome mountain bike trails.

So you see, there is endless fun to be had in the wonderful world of Lane County. Don’t be put off by the fact that you haven’t been around for 21 years yet, or that you are stuck living in a small, shared space; these are the things that give you no excuse to avoid all of those awesome activities. How do those old Disney Channel commercials go? “Get up and get out there.” Something like that?

[EW 10/07]

John Craig Comes Home

Ah, Portland, our colossal neighbor to the north. It’s got all of the things a big city needs: buildings, parks, rivers, bridges — and let’s not forget the artists. In fact, Portland has been home to a whole lot of great musicians in its time.

Here’s another that nobody should miss: John Craig, who started out his days as a musician right here in Eugene. As UO students, Craig and his friend Ryan Dobrowski — who now plays his part for Blind Pilot — created Tympanic, gaining mild success on the West Coast before graduation. Since then, Craig has pursued a solo career based on a touching blend of electro, rock and pop that is hard to categorize. At times, his voice is reminiscent of Ben Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie), while other times it’s just something completely different.



Craig’s music is mellow yet danceable, colorful yet gray, grounded yet spacey and everything in between. In each song, he achieves a rich framework of textures and sounds that aims to please. If you are in need of a reminder that Oregon still rocks ridiculously hard, this is your man. John Craig plays at 8:30 pm Sunday, Oct. 3, at Taylor’s Bar & Grille. 21+. Free.

[EW 9/30]
Also Scope: The Best Kissers in the World

Do Clouds Still Taste Metallic?

The end of a transformation for The Flaming Lips

1983 is important for many reasons in our world. It’s a song by Jimi Hendrix; it’s also the year Return of the Jedi was released, the Tokyo Disneyland opened and KISS first appeared on TV without makeup. But all of these momentous events seem obsolete in the face of one thing: ’83 marked the formation of the psychedelic, fuzz driven, colorful, magical, beautifully wild, shows-that-will-reputedly-blow-your-mind Flaming Lips.

Hailing from Oklahoma City, the Lips fuel their music with a range of different influences and styles. Dreamy vocals echo between fuzzy synthesizers and flanged guitars to create a symphony of psychedelia, while mid-tempo drums carry the listener along through an array of flowing melodies, licks and breaks — techniques reminiscent of those found on Pink Floyd’s cosmic Dark Side of the Moon. In testament to this Floydian influence, The Flaming Lips recently covered the entire Dark Side of the Moon album, and boy, did they do it well. Currently the Lips are touring to back last year’s Embryonic, and they’ll only be making one stop in Oregon. How lucky we are that they chose our McDonald Theatre for that stop.



Now imagine, if you will, a stage. Throw in some naked people, some Teletubbies, bubbles, aliens, bouncy balls, confetti, lights, giant hands, microphones and instruments. Now make the entire thing explode into color and life. You’re at a Lips show and the world is bursting at the seams with beautiful rays of light. This might sound a little more like a carnival than a concert, but that’s just the point.

Since Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots was released in 2002, it seems as though the Lips’ older albums have become lost in a haze of fuzzy, mellow-artistic engineering. There is certainly no denying that Yoshimi and At War With the Mystics are solid records, but they indicate that the group’s slow transformation into a psychedelic funny-house band is drawing to a close.

In 1995, Clouds Taste Metallic blasted the ears off of those people who had managed to hear about the Flaming Lips — most of them probably hanging on every note of “She Don’t Use Jelly,” which was released in 1993 — and this slop infested, psychedelic, noise driven masterpiece left an impact that seemed like it could be everlasting. Unfortunately, those days of noisy, gain-up-too-high slop rock seem to be over for the Lips, and their recent music has gained an art-rock quality that still aims to please but won’t entirely satisfy those fans from the ’90s.

Embryonic, however, has a lot more old-Lips style mixed into it than the previous two albums (especially At War With the Mystics), and this gives great hope to fans of the dirty production and sound effects of Transmissions from the Satellite Heart and Clouds Taste Metallic. Fingers crossed that the Flaming Lips will soon find the perfect way to blend their older, crazier stuff with their cunningly engineered post-millennium sound. As of now, Embryonic is the closest example of this.

Back at that carnival things are still going wild, and you love it. You love yourself and everyone around you. Here’s where the Flaming Lips have truly succeeded in leaving a mark — friendship and connection. So is it ultimately a bad thing that they have transitioned from a sloppy, noisy rock band to a colorful, well-produced dream machine? The answer is undoubtedly no. They’ll still rock you sideways.

The Flaming Lips, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti. 9 pm Wednesday, Sept. 29. McDonald Theatre • SOLD OUT

[EW 9/23]

Calling From the Sun

Re-discovering Marcy Playground

There’s no denying that Marcy Playground was one of the better one hit wonders of the 1990s, but they happened to be sitting on a whole mountain of gems when their eponymous LP was released in 1997. Forgotten in a haze of constant “Sex and Candy” airtime, the other eleven tracks that fill the record are not only enjoyable, they are fucking awesome.



Grunge meets nineties pop, folk and rock to create a solid—and remarkably original—effect. Acoustic guitars, often layered, lie at the foreground of many tracks while John Wozniak’s vocals ring out in a calm, dull drone beneath (for an example of this technique go back into the annals of your memory and re-listen to “Sex and Candy”). Other tracks, such as “Sherry Fraser” and “One More Suicide” find Wozniak at the front, singing his heart out.


The truly remarkable thing about Marcy Playground is that their entire existence was drowned out by that one song—which is, in my opinion, far from the best track on the record—and all of those other beauties were forever buried somewhere. Who knows, maybe a few people out there would still love to see Marcy Playground live to hear their other tracks. I, for one, would definitely get down.

Booch Light?

Kombucha gone missing equals "a bummer"

Considering the recipe for kombucha is about as old as Jesus, it comes as no surprise when a stench resembling the bottle return center comes drifting out from beneath the cap of this sour, fermented tea. Yes, it's tea, but with a twist. This organic drink contains live bacteria that help to promote a strong immune system as well as aid dietary function. In fact, kombucha really appears to live up to its reputation as a “wonder drink.” Unfortunately for those who have fallen deeply in love with the stuff, the swift removal of most brews from shelves has left a hole in the hearts of many kombucha drinkers.

The tea was pulled due to suspicions that its alcohol content may rise above a half-percent ABV (alcohol by volume)—the limit for beverages to be deemed non-alcoholic—and the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, in collaboration with the FDA, is running an inquiry into this claim. For many brewers, this has meant a complete halt in business unless they’re willing to sacrifice quality and give way to pasteurization, a technique that ensures the drink stays below the legal limit. For many drinkers of non-pasteurized kombucha—“purists”—this means the hunt is on.



Whether or not kombucha can be placed in the same category as beer and wine is uncertain, though the invention of Booch Light could be on the horizon. The nature of fermentation is tricky, and with a thousand different home-brews up for grabs, it’s hard to believe that every last bottle has been left to ferment for the perfect length of time.
Stores still carry kombucha in small quantities, including Kombucha Wonder Drink, which is brewed in Portland and became incredibly popular before the recall. However, the tea is now pasteurized and the aforementioned “purists” surely won’t abide it. Those drinkers who aren’t purists, though, don’t seem to mind in the least. “People are kombucha crazy!” says Emma Buckley of The Kiva grocery. “When we didn’t have it I had to field the question about twenty times a day; where is it? Why don’t you have it?”

A scan of the UNFI website—a major distributor—shows that GT, a popular brand of kombucha, has halted all manufacturing for the time being, and plans to soon release a tea with a much higher alcohol content. This product—code named AP5—will of course only be available to buyers who are over 21. As for many of the other brands mentioned on the site, it appears that they are simply giving way to the “reformulation” by installing new machinery and diluting their product. With the most recent update on the UNFI website, the text simply reads: “Demand continues to exceed the supply.”

Most drinkers whom I know describe the entire situation as “a bummer,” but forums and blogs frequented by die-hard fans hold a much stronger reaction: “I NEED mah fuckin booch!!!!!!” etc. Many other forum users ponder the reasons for the drink’s recall: “[Kombucha] was banned ages ago because mushrooms started growing in people’s stomachs.” As the list piles higher, the theories become more and more absurd, and some even go so far as to blame the ban on celebrities: “Oh my god, you're not going to believe it....It's all that bitch Lindsey Lohan's fault.”

Those forum users with different attitudes, however, discuss more than just their chagrin over the ban. “Is kombucha safe if I’m nursing?” “Does [kombucha] put my sobriety at risk?” and similar, valid concerns are often to be found among the babblings of booch conspiracy theorists.

Is kombucha truly the “wonder drink” to be hailed by all as a gift from Mother Nature? Or is it simply another thing that beer snobs will one day find pleasure in? The proof will be in the pudding (or in this case the beverage) when the FDA gets completely through with its inquiry. For now, I guess all the avid booch lovers out there will have to search far and wide for their fix of this amber colored, sour beer scented, “healthy”-as-can-be fermented tea.


[EW Chow! Restaurant Guide 9/16]