As Saturday’s sun started to peak from late afternoon to early evening a mysterious band began to play on the sidelines of the outside stage’s crowd of PDX POP NOW. Two guys had stacked amps against a white wall and were playing noisy, tribal beats on floor toms, facing each other, sharing a broken cymbal, slashing maniacally. One gentleman was clad in all black, including a cardigan and dark sunglasses, sauntering around the sidewalk when he wasn’t shouting or blowing a saxophone into a microphone infested with delay. Meanwhile, his partner pounds furiously like a caveman, his cut off muscle shirt flailing from his body. The message on his chest was along the lines of “Shame Old Shit…Different Day”. Their drone sort of had a similar negative creep on the audience but it’s intensity that could have been summoning the apocalypse – or trying to channel the Velvet Underground’s hey day – was mesmerizing with their noise-fucked oscillator crossed with pretension. I had thought perhaps this band were merely genius party crashers… [However, to ruin the myth they actually were part of the festival]. So there you have it….the Outsider Music Press PDX Pop Now Find #1 is Asss. Don’t forget the extra ‘s’, ass.


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