It’s no secret that we at The Deli Portland are pretty big fans of electro-gloom pop progenitor Logan Lynn. And where Lynn’s mastery of making you feel dirty within synth-heavy, minor-melody blasts of no-wave electronic rock is arguably one of the more interesting deviations from the main plug of the Stumptown scene, Jaguar Love take a wet mop to the whole shebang.
Forged from the ashes of beloved Seattle dance/noise/punk group the Blood Brothers, Johnny Whitney and Cody Votolato have taken the short route from spastic, experimental trash-punk meanderings, and written a whole new chapter in their ascension simply by switching to electronic muses. There’s little to find, it seems, between the sassy toddler screech of Whitney, and the manic plunk of Votolato’s guitar work, as deviated from their output in the Blood Brothers.

This isn’t to say that the crew is any less enjoyable; it’s simply a thrash-pop-lite hybrid of the Seattle noise scene they helped cultivate. Whitney certainly doesn’t writhe quite so nasally as he once did. The singularness of those curdling yelps, interestingly enough, helped catapult his vocals to some of the most instantly recognizable in the country, and nearly jettisoned TBB’s music to second fiddle. It doesn’t do that with Jaguar Love. And where a pop bent does trickle in on tracks like "I Started a Fire" and "Highways of Gold," old habits die hard on pulsing jams like "Jaguar Warriors" and "Up All Night."

The band will be releasing their new album on March 2nd via Fat Possum Records, titled Hologram Jams. If you pre-order the album by going here, you will receive a handmade wristband (most likely handmade by Whitney, whose Crystal City Clothing company continues to grow).

Both Lynn and Jaguar Love will be playing a FREE show this Tuesday, February 2nd, at Holocene. The show is part of the monthly live touring show The Rumble, on which Jaguar Love will be playing every single West Coast date.,

Show at 8:00 p.m. 21 and over. DJ A Train opens.

For a look at the pop-y side of J-Lo (I’m gonna try to make that stick… I will fail), check out the below video for the aforementioned "I Started a Fire."

– Ryan J. Prado

Just over three-and-a-half years ago in our wonderfully eclectic city of music, a band was birthed with just a little more to offer than empathetic words or methodical beats. Rising “post-core” group Prize Country has been throwing out more than simple head-banging distortion and fist-pumping vocals, to much more than just their West Coast or even East Coast brethren. At the start of this month, Prize County’s new album …With Love has gained not only the gaze of the local eye, but also widespread overseas attention, including two front-page magazine covers. “With Love is 30+ minutes of surging, beautifully rhythmic music, lead by tantalizing dual guitars, a sharp-toothed bass drum pedal, and the soft-spoken, but pointed vocals of Aaron Blanchard,” states Jordan of PastePunk.com.

Being unfamiliar with Prize County’s previous recordings, I am surprised to say that …With Love is actually a big step in what seems to be the right direction. “The album definitely picks up right where they left off on Lottery of Recognition, with maybe even more of an emphasis on their Bay Area post-hardcore influences of old this time around” (Built on a Weak Spot). Although a lot of albums like to cover the obvious aspects of love and loss and blah blah blah, Prize Country seems to have taken a different route, focusing on love with an “eh, who gives a shit?” attitude. “‘Lyrically, it’s supposed to be kinda sexy, dirty and nasty,’ explains vocalist/guitarist Aaron Blanchard. ‘Originally, the [album] title was From the Gutter With Love, and it was this dirty, sexy thing all about drinking, partying and having a good time. It just seemed right’ (Decibel Magazine).

Well the CD is out, the reviews are in, and now the group is on the move. Just finishing up 2009 with a lineup of over 30 stops spread across the U.S., 2010 holds expectations the band is sure to uphold. But for now, it’s time for Portland’s three-and-a-half-year-old kindred to play for their family. Come the 6th of February, when Prize Country will be crying out to the masses at Portland’s Ash Street Saloon. Show starts at 9:30 pm with three opening acts including Portland’s Microtia, Monterey, CA’s thrashers Razorhoof, and Willamette Valley-reps Norska. The $5 cover hardly seems like a charge. If you’re at all curious about what these guys will be offering up, I highly suggest making this your late-night Saturday rendezvous.

“We play music because we have to. It’s inside of us. We make music we want, and its pretty awesome” (Prize Country, 2009).

– Michael Miller

6:35… I’m at the Mission Theater, alone and wondering if this is the correct choice for a Saturday evening. I soon find my hand being stamped with black ink by a man in bright yellow-and-pink clothing that looks to have been dug out of a bin where beggars throw their rejects. Following his kind direction into the theater hall ahead, I perform my best scurry through the crowd, quickly settling in a secluded seat with cushions and a decent view.

6:42… It was an all-ages sort of thing, and each was there to give a proper representation for their group. There was a grandma to the front, dads scattered about, children speckled within, and a large number of teenagers to my right, bringing back memories of these sort of things in a time that seems so far past. We made up the majority of the crowd; our age group, those who like myself, were ready to discover whether this was indeed the correct choice for an early Saturday evening.

7:01… A band appears. Well…some people got on stage with instruments and started playing music anyhow. Although listening intently for a name between each retro-embraced B-52’s-esque number, all I could come up with was “The Sunny Sunshine.” These guys had a decent sound, but lacked enough confidence/charisma/any interest at all to pull it off very well. Mid-set, the bass pedal collapsed and the front man asked if there were any comedians amongst us. Living in the moment, grandma stands up immediately from her family table and waves both hands in the air. Not expecting to be called out, “we the crowd” watch in anguish as she reluctantly approaches the stage. In one of those unspoken, “united we stand in embarrassment for you” moments, breath was held, eyes slammed shut, fingers were broken to a cross…and grandma told a joke. Something about Nantucket and a nugget, either way, it wasn’t music and it wasn’t funny, unless of course bitter reality is your cup of tea. The band finished dillydallying shortly after grandma had left the building, and The Sunny Sunshine played out the rest of their very unfocused set.

8:00… the Fruit Bats arrive. Being someone who has only heard their music a couple of times, I really wasn’t sure what to expect, but was quite confident that if these guys merely came out and shouted their name with any stamina, it would stand as the top performance of the evening. Luckily, they did one better. Bringing the focus back to enjoyable, front man Eric Johnson called the crowd up to dance. Following the teenagers to my right, the fathers and children speckled about, all my peers, and yes, even the Nantucket Nugget herself, I leapt into the swarm.

8:35… When a band performs with so much personality and spunk, it often times rarely matters if what they are playing is any good. But the Fruit Bats were better than good, and wonderful performers at that, shouting to the crowd and genuinely showing pleasure in raising an audience. At one point Johnson apologized for not having the time to profess his witty banter upon us due to a curfew for the theater, but gave just as much in singing and leading our dance by the last second of the very last note.

– Michael Miller