The Blow, AKA Mikhaela Maricich, has become a legendary figure in the Portland music scene. The Portland native has been absent from this coast for some time however, after she split off from co-collaborator Jona Bechtolt (YACHT) and moved to Brooklyn. Making a rare appearance in her hometown at the Doug Fir Lounge, Maricich wowed her crowd with a mixture of music, performance art, dancing, and heartfelt narratives.
Opening up the show was Sonny Smith of Sonny & the Sunsets. A drummer joined a solo Smith on stage as he strummed his guitar and wove intimate folk-laced stories for the crowd. Smith’s voice was sultry and smooth with just a hint of nasality, pulling his minimal musical style into a stripped down, but effective performance.
Sadly, Smith’s music was drowned out by the sound of people talking in the packed basement. The singer shrugged off the din of the room as he joked and sang through his set. “We’ve been on the road for 3 years,” he said after a couple songs. “Well, actually just one night.” Midway through his time on stage, Smith pulled out a song he said was “about kids, how they shouldn’t smoke pot . . . not really though.” The music itself was a blend of rollick-y doo-wop with folksy blues guitar, a strange opening for the Blow and her more electric, dancey mixes, but very fitting with the evening’s theme of storytelling through music.
Smith’s set felt short and the room was already packed when he was on stage. After he left though, every available space filled up as people crammed themselves in to catch a glipse of Maricich as she sauntered onto the stage. Things started minimally, as they should with a show like this. Stepping out onto the stage all alone, Maricich began to sing and tap a rhythm into the microphone, pulling out a smokey, warm rendition of the Eagle’s “Peaceful Easy Feeling” before jumping into a crowd favorite with “Hey Boy.” The crowd sang along as Maricich danced around gesturing along with the words.
When the song ended, Maricich launched into a story that would become a thread for the rest of her act. After telling the crowd how happy she was to be back in Portland, she began to talk about her work in New York, some of which had allegedly involved writing an album with a celebrity who was famous for being a lesbian. She never actually said the name of this celebrity, but it was pretty clear that she was supposed to be Lindsay Lohan. Likewise, it was kind of hard to tell if any of this had actually happened or if it was all one big joke.
Regardless of the truth or falsity present in her story, Maricich wove in bits of the narrative expertly with a commentary on love, living life well and being true to yourself. It was almost frustrating when people from the crowd would laugh and jeer as she spouted out meaningful sentiments.
Maricich didn’t seem to bothered by this, though. She laughed along as well, donning high heels at one point that couldn’t have been lower than four inches and teetering though “Parenthesis,” which she had said her mysterious celebrity lesbian friend had liked to sing to her lady love as she danced for her. Maricich danced along too, talking about walking in this girl’s shoes and the sadness and joy she had heard this woman describe in finding love and then losing it.
Within the music and the talking, there were elements of performance art present in Maricich’s show. During “Come On Petunia,” a smoke machine and fan turned on. The backlit Maricich dancing in the wind was beyond stunning as she crooned into the light with a voice as thick and sweet as honey. After the smoke machine was turned down and the dust had cleared she got a little shy and a bit more serious as she announced that she had a new song that she had just written for her girlfriend but added that she could “only sing it if I sing it directly to her because I just wrote it.” So she stood there alone, with lights down low, staring down into the audience at her girlfriend while the crowds of people standing around peered into this oh-so intimate moment. That moment felt both voyeuristic and special at the same time, an uncomfortable yet thrilling combinations.
Before launching into “Fists Up,” Maricich announced that she had something she really wanted to say, but wasn’t sure how to say it. “There’s something that I really want to tell you but I don’t know how so I’m going to teach you a dance instead.” She went on to talk about not using the full reach of our hands and taught everyone a dance move called that she called “the flame.” Her hands shot up into the air, then down and occasionally off to the side as her body writhed and flickered like a lithe campfire reaching toward the ceiling.
After “Fists Up,” she mused about all the songs she wanted to sing that hadn’t been written yet, finally ending the set on “True Affection.” The crowd sang along again, bouncing in time to the heavy bass and peppy synths as Maricich sang and slunk her way through the song and off the stage. This is a woman who has perfected the art of multimedia expression in ways that don’t rely on fancy equipment. All she has are her stories, her voice, the music and a type of honesty that you’d be hard pressed to find in a lot of dance music. Maricich isn’t just a performer, she’s an enigma and a sight not to be missed.
