The Dandy Warhols + Swoon 23 + Sugarboom at Satyricon

Satyricon is a true representation of a dirty-ass rock club. It's a landmark of the Portland club scene, and over the last two decades it has been the launching pad for countless rock, punk, and metal acts across the city, and even to a few foreign invaders as well. Courtney Taylor-Taylor—the lead singer of The Dandy Warhols—became a member of that list when he performed his first show there at the age of 14. Peter Holmström—the group's lead guitarist—played his first show there too, as a member of a goth act playing to an audience of one: Taylor-Taylor. The venue also hosted the Dandys when they were first starting out, providing the stage for a young band to practice their craft upon. So, when the soon-to-be-closed venue asked them to take part in their "Farewell Satyricon" series, the Dandys jumped at the chance. Their only hurdle was finding a drummer since theirs was stuck in Australia. Issue became opportunity when Eric Hedford, the group's original drummer, was tapped for what was shaping up to be a once-in-a-lifetime event. The secret sauce? They were only going to play material from their Satyricon days, namely their first two records. Can I get a hell yes?! To add even more nostalgic flavor, they bumped up the age restriction limits from 21 to 31 and talked Swoon 23 and Sugarboom (former Tim Kerr Records labelmates and early '90s-era touring partners) into supporting them. Basically, the stars had aligned and 240 people got the chance to return to a time when the Dandys ruled, ok?

The night began smooth like a leap into a den of pillows. Cushioning our fall was Sugarboom, an outfit of Portlanders that recalled the best of Galaxie 500 and their treasured ability to make you feel as though you were in a safe form of freefall. Effortless, breathy vocals filled with long-held notes were their fallback point. They asked you to stay, to sit with them and then take their hand as they gave you a tour of their world. We all went happily, and one couldn't help but be reminded of a Portland scene that has long since passed. Gone are the days of the shoegazing dream poppers like Sugarboom, who used indie rock touches in the broad strokes when they wanted to boost their sound. Now, we have a town full of hybridized styles, without the safety of well-worn, clear-cut methods. I'm not complaining; as a child of the generation that followed Sugarboom's, the hybridization makes sense to me and my ADHD mind, yet I couldn't help but be lured in by the simplicity of Sugarboom's style. The comfort of it, like I had just returned home for a sleep in my childhood bed. Except that my childhood bed isn't full of wicked bass thumps and rockers that channeled the tenacious delivery and sermon-like wordplay of a Patti Smith record. Granted, most of the songs didn't fall in the category framed by the latter, sticking mostly to mid-tempo arrangements and positions, but like all relapsed rockers, Sugarboom probably felt like that had to show that they still had it in them. And they did. The crowd loved what they heard, including bassist Anne Stark's story about how Zia (the Dandys' keyboardist/tambourine player) had bitched out a sleazy promoter that refused to pay them after a poorly attended show. They left with 50 bucks.

The other band that shared in Zia's backtalk winnings was Swoon 23. When they hit the stage, they took the shoegaze baton and ran with it. Well, they did after lead singer Megan Pickerel took a few sips from an over-the-counter mystery bottle. I bet it was 'tussin, though you couldn't detect any type of cough or abrasive quality in her soft vocal lines. They were soothing in a way that you'd expected from a shoegazer, but she wasn't the star of the show. The hero in this equation was the lead guitarist, who had a knack for unveiling overdriven, space mutant tones whenever the song begged to be opened up. He did this time and time again, frequently assuming dominion over the place where a traditional chorus would go. Matched up against the lush, stoner drones produced by his bandmates, his lines started to feel like a wake-up call signaling that it was time to come out of the dream state. The peaks and valleys model put to good use.

On their cover of what has now become an accepted rock standard, The Stooges' "I Wanna Be Your Dog," Pickerel started to stand out a bit more. Her delivery remained in that same "I'm just waking up" whisper that the audience had grown accustomed to, but now reeked of a outwardly flowing sensuality which grabbed ahold of the words and bent them how she saw fit. The submissiveness inherent to the lyrics was gone, though; she knew what she wanted and she was going to get it. And she did it in a way most men will never learn, without unchecked passion. She didn't raise her voice, she just looked out above the audience with a faraway look that would harden every once in awhile. It was emphasis by body, not by voice, and that's how she made it her own.

When the Dandy Warhols first got up on stage, it was without Zia. Courtney made some joke about how she was doing a bunch of coke in the bathroom in a rebellious gasp against not getting older, which encouraged a recurring yell from the audience of "white gold!" The repeated drug reference would have been an apt chant for most of their shows, as drug-use is as frequently mentioned in Dandy Warhols features as their music, but here it also seemed to fit the form of another blast from the past. Another resuscitation of an image that harkens back to the years the Dandys were minutes away from exploring. Zia finally showed up and positioned herself near her gallery of moogs, synths and tambo-stands, dressed in a ripped Stones t-shirt. We'd later find out that all of their outfits and gear were time-period specific. They opened with "The Dandy Warhols' T.V. Theme Song," the jangly pop number that begins their first record. The ching-chang strum that shook Courtney's hollow body and the singalong syllables suggested that this might be a dance-a-thon, but Dandy fans know different. Although their first two albums had great pop numbers on them, a great chunk of space was devoted to spacey, fuzz-heavy, noise missions that jumped back and forth between the 60s and 70s. This was made abundantly clear when the band played the next two cuts off that same record, "Ride" and "Best Friend." An ocean of noise saturated the room as Courtney courted the mic, eyes closed and head back. This is a man who has clearly always wanted to be a rock star, and he's learned how to strike the pose. Peter looked more rock n roll than any of them though, with his shaggy hair, leather pants and jean jacket direct from the Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia album cover. Later, his Pete Townshend-esque windmills would only cement that feeling.

By the time, they got to "Be-In," the lead song from ...The Dandy Warhols Come Down, they started to move into new waters. The wall of sound was still there, but the shoegaze haze had been replaced by psychedelic Brit-crunch. As they let the sonic swirls repeat, it was easy to feel like you were in an friendly form of quicksand, sinking into an acceptable void. The crowd, which appeared to be a mix of die-hards, friends, and family, ate up every bit of it and many squealed with glee when rare or favorite songs were busted out. Singles like "Not If You Were The Last Junkie on Earth" and "Everyday Should Be A Holiday," were greeted with cheers too, but the songs that got the biggest yells were the deep cuts like "Genius," my personal favorite of the evening. Originally slated to be the penultimate song in the encore, "Genius" was moved up in the order after Courtney decided that his voice wouldn't be alive and kicking enough at that point of the show to hit all of the necessary notes. It was brilliant in both its performance and its structure. It's one of those songs that is insanely memorable without being extraordinarily poppy like The Velvet Underground's "Oh! Sweet Nuthin"; and since the Dandys are obviously students of the VU, it's not hard to see how a song like "Genius" comes into the world.

The rest of the set was a back and forth between the two albums. A "Minnesoter" here, a "Lou Weed" there and a crowd-surfing Zia. She was particularly jazzed up: crowd surfing to the bathroom, bringing a fan that had flown in from France up on stage to paddle her ass and dance with her, playing topless, knocking back Patron shots. She's the type of girl every group of guys loves having around. A lot of times she was shrouded in smoke, though, since someone on stage left was intent on pumping our lungs full of the stuff. I thought it was overkill, a distraction from a great set, but that's my only complaint of the night. And that goes for the music, too. On record, even their best albums can come across as uneven, but in a venue, when the effects are ringing and the amps are blaring, the songs feel right. It's easy to hit a mental station where you welcome a bulldozer of a track like "It's a Fast Driving Rave-Up With the Dandy Warhols Sixteen Minutes," for sixteen fucking minutes. Why not? It's fun to get lost in music, played by people that appreciate and borrow from a bunch of great bands. It's too bad it took Satyricon closing for them to bring a show this cool to the public.

In the end, I feel very lucky to claim this as my first Dandy Warhols show, as I got a chance to see them play through two albums that easily trump their recent work. They were in that optimal state of fine form and high spirits. It was abundantly clear that this was emotional for them and that the demise of the friend that is Satyricon was cause for both sadness and celebration. Zia said something about how when they were first starting out it felt like a revolution and now the revolution had come full circle. And though it was basically written into the program with Eric coming back and a first two albums focus, this was a night where everyone seemed to be looking back. Courtney reflected on how they've had such an odd career and how much they appreciated everyone for sticking it out with them. It was intimate, not only because of the limited capacity, but because of the looseness. People's guards were down. They weren't trying to be anything, but a music lover, or a well-wisher out for one last hurrah at good ol' Satyricon. The owner even came out to say goodbye and thank the Dandys (and Eric!) for agreeing to do the show. And just when you thought that was going to be the end of it, Zia, being the infinitely spunky person that she is, decided to sing us out with an old campfire song, "There's A Daisy On My Toe." I guess she didn't want to leave either.

Setlist:
Introduction By Young Tom
The Dandy Warhols' T.V. Theme Song
Ride
Best Friend
Be-In
Cool As Kim Deal
Not If You Were The Last Junkie on Earth
(Tony, This Song is Called) Lou Weed
The Coffee and Tea Wrecks
Genius
Good Morning
Green
I Love You
Your Ghost (50 Ft. Wave cover) - Courtney solo
Hard On For Jesus
Pussycat (w/ lead singer of Swoon 23)
Minnesoter
Nothin' To Do
Everyday Should Be A Holiday
Boys Better
Grunge Betty