Radiation City is just what the first three letters of their name spell: RAD. Where have these guys been hiding? Oh yeah, Portland! Why does Portland keep spawning such brilliance from its musical loins? Oh right, because it’s also RAD. Of the Tender Loving Empire family, Radiation City is supported by an onslaught of tender loving friends – most of which were in happy attendance for this show. Their new album, called The Hands That Take You, is full of smart, dreamy pop laced with doo-wop and buh-buh-bums. They started their set with the track, “Do You Remember?”, which immediately branded itself into my brain. Although RC is yet another boy-girl dueling vocals, happy youth band with smart lyrics and fluctuating tempos like The Dirty Projectors and Broken Social Scene, they put on a memorable live show. Lizzy Ellison’s voice is both cute and commanding as it peaks and plateaus in a tease of happy-go-heartbroken. Between songs, Ellison announced, “I’m so getting used to this! Having so many friends I love (smiles and kiss-blowing commence)!” As she pounced away on the keyboard, the suit and tie clad bassist and guitarist (Cameron Spies) leaned into each other affectionately in a kind-of armless hug and alternately sang backup into the same microphone. The closeness between the members was clear and lent a meaningful layer to their music.
If there was any rapport between the members of Portland dream-pop outfit, Blouse, they didn’t take care to display it. What came across was a front-woman eager to play dress-up while churning out a confusing and mediocre blend of Beach House and not-Beach-House (complete with a thick brown mane mussed with great effort over the left eye) while the remaining band members stood behind resigned to their own self-conscious (albeit less visibly copycatting) music playing. Their album is worth listening to, however, and the music at least stands on its own in terms of bored, ethereal ‘American-Apparel-ad’ coolness.
Aan was everything I could ever dream of; the man who graced my ears with, “I promise to love you, so long as it’s convenient for me.” The man who seems to have recorded I Could Be Girl For You with a tin can held in front of his mouth. The man who starts a love song with “I could never get tired of you”, and ends it with an embittered “You take from me what I gladly give you willingly.” I learned a few things on this Saturday night, though. Namely, that Aan is not just a man, but men. And they like lamps with undersized shades on stage while they play. And the man who sings is called Bud. And Bud has soft-looking blonde hair.
If there's any proper way to say adieu to a glorious Portland summer, it's with these smiling, hugging, kissing, singing residents of the rainy-ation city itself. It softens the blow, at least.
