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Music
The Scene Is Dead,
Long Live the Scene
After a rough start, the Portland music community rebounds with a more pragmatic approach. BY RICHARD MARTIN, rmartin@wweek.com
The age of innocence for Portland's music scene is over. Everyone from pierce-nosed guitarists and scraggly haired record-label owners to wide-eyed, frantic club bookers needed savvy to survive in 1997, and by year's end, a more business-oriented outlook prevailed. In one year, Portland progressed from punk-rock outpost to serious-minded community, complete with a major music festival, first-rate facilities and nationally recognized talent. That's not to say the transformation went smoothly. The city's local music insiders never looked so gloomy as they did in February. The record industry nationwide was coming off a dismal year financially, and Portland, in the midst of one of the rainiest winters in memory, found itself with too many clubs and not enough quality bands to fill them. The McMenamins complicated matters by adding the gargantuan Crystal Ballroom to their empire, sparking competition with the city's other two 1,000-capacity venues, LaLuna and the Roseland. That same month, the only nationally prominent record company in town, Tim/Kerr, faltered when its deal with major label Mercury soured. Meanwhile, Capitol Records rejected the Dandy Warhols' already-recorded major-label debut. In April, when Sleater-Kinney released its third album, Dig Me Out, the title could have been the Portland music scene's rallying cry. Sleater-Kinney quickly became the music industry's buzz band, but problems persisted in the local scene. After issuing his third album, Either/Or, homegrown cult hero Elliott Smith moved to New York. Rebecca Gates, whose band the Spinanes was among the first to put this city on the nation's music map, fled to Chicago. Jody Bleyle, who played in Hazel and Team Dresch and founded the respected indie label Candy-Ass, ditched us for San Francisco. These departures marked the end of an era that had begun five years earlier, when Sub Pop swooped down from Seattle to sign Sprinkler, Pond, Hazel and the Spinanes, laying the groundwork for a more active and widely recognized Portland scene. The second half of '97, however, made the first six months look like a stock market correction. Despite murmurs about the inability of three 1,000-capacity clubs to coexist in a city this size, each found its own niche. Tour buses and vans brought national artists to town. Although the underground rock and punk scene languished, it gave way to a diverse collection of subcultures. Once-parochial Portland now had room for a hippie-rock scene (centered around the Crystal), an electronic dance music/DJ scene (at Panorama, Zoot Suite and LaLuna), a jazz scene (at Berbati's, Jimmy Mak's and Jazz de Opus) and even a Goth scene (at the New Paris Theater, Satyricon and EJ's). Local bands of a broader stylistic palette began to reawaken the populace. Pink Martini perfected its mix of classical, jazz and Latin and filled dance floors. Sunset Valley became something of a house band at EJ's. Everclear released So Much for the Afterglow, the follow-up to its double-platinum-selling debut. Capitol released the Dandy Warhols' second try at a debut, and the band's video for "Not If You Were the Last Junkie on Earth" wound up an MTV buzz clip. Calobo, Kerosene Dream and Rubberneck's jam-oriented rock and funk attracted sell-out crowds to the Crystal and Roseland. Kelly Joe Phelps became one of the most respected young blues guitarists in the country. And, in a triumphant homecoming performance, Elliott Smith packed LaLuna with fans who screamed requests and begged him to keep playing. The third time was the charm for North by Northwest (disclosure: Willamette Week is a co-sponsor), as the October music festival and conference increased in size and scope, drawing industry professionals from L.A. and New York, bringing record crowds to 25 venues in three nights. At year's end, some club bookers and promoters are cautious. They rehash the argument that clubgoers won't attend a show by a local band they haven't heard on the radio or seen on MTV. This will lead to fiercer competition, some insiders say, and perhaps casualties among established venues. On the surface, however, the club scene seems to have survived the early '97 jitters. The Roseland's oft-dangled opening of a 500-capacity bar is slated for spring '98; the McMenamins plan to upgrade the Crystal's sound system and increase capacity to 1,500; Mike Thrasher, who helped convert EJ's from a strip joint into a punk-rock favorite in three years, intends to open a new club in June. The Northwest Alliance of Independent Labels, a locally owned company that distributes records by lesser-known regional bands, grossed more than $1 million for the first time in its three-year existence, suggesting that music buyers across the country are back--and spending money on bands from our own backyard. To counter rumors of its demise after its separation from Mercury, Tim/Kerr has issued an ambitious release schedule for 1998. These developments don't guarantee a prosperous future. Pessimists remember the grim early months of '97 better than the last half of the year. But many club owners, bookers and musicians have learned their lessons. The result is a less naive and perhaps less adventurous scene, but, ultimately, a healthier one. |
