" Here Comes Your Fan" Archive
Here Comes Your Fan: First Love, Last Rites
3 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008
Four years ago, I sat, a fresh-faced prospective intern, across from WW’s notoriously cantankerous assistant Arts & Culture editor, Steffen Silvis, and told him I wanted to write about music. He said, “You and everyone else in this town.” So, you can imagine my surprise at eventually landing the music editor job in the fall [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Moral Support
1 CommentPosted on Wednesday, July 16th, 2008
Some people love to be the center of attention. Danny Seim, best known as drummer and co-songwriter for the awesome, experimental-pop triple-threat Menomena, is not one of those people. He’s been cranking out solo efforts under the name Lackthereof for over 10 years now; yet few besides Menomena fanatics and those entrenched in Portland’s [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Privileged Information
0 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008
Mike Dixon doesn’t cater to just your average nerd. He may be a high-school accounting and introductory computer teacher in nearby Olympia, Wash., but the bespectacled 29-year-old spends just as much time selling limited-edition vinyl to record geeks as he does teaching adolescents the ways of grosses and algorithms.
The founder of bedroom label PIAPTK—(very) short [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Human Touch
0 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
I believe it was the Boss who so eloquently sung the praises of “human touch” back in the ’90s. And though husband-and-wife duo Viva Voce—whose discography includes such mushily titled numbers as “N Love W/U”—has never been hurting in the romance department, the Portland pair recently realized its expansive psych-pop could use a bit more [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Rock ‘n’ Roll Savior
1 CommentPosted on Wednesday, June 11th, 2008
Christian rock is probably the furthest thing from most kids’ minds when considering ways to rebel. But Greg Glover—host of KRNK’s Sunday night program, the Bottom Forty, and founder of local label Arena Rock Recording Company—was originally attracted to an album by “the father of Christian rock” with parental defiance in mind. “It was [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: The Housewife’s Choice
1 CommentPosted on Wednesday, June 4th, 2008
Tom Jones turns 68 years old this Saturday. Yet, last Thursday at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, women of all ages threw panties at him, squealed with twitterpation and smiled at his every word. Even I, a somewhat peripheral fan, wore a backless dress and pair of undies I thought both sexy and disposable—in [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Just Like Heaven
1 CommentPosted on Wednesday, May 28th, 2008
At the end of the South Park episode where the Cure’s Robert Smith defeats a giant, monstrous Barbra Streisand—she plays “Mecha-Streisand” to his “Smithra” in a battle of Godzillian proportions—Kyle yells, “Disintegration is the best album ever!” as Smith walks off into the sunset. It’s an unabashed declaration of love for the Cure’s 1989 gloom-pop [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Alma Matters
0 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, May 14th, 2008
Do-goodery hits us at different times. For 16-year-old Lincoln High student Alden Harris-McCoy, the charitable urge struck when he realized profits from his Curbside Market—a food cart he runs during school lunch hours—could serve the greater good. For the entrepreneurial jazz guitarist and Lincoln Jazz Band bass player (who’s already accepted a four-year scholarship [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: Soul Man?
0 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, April 30th, 2008
I have a lot of faith in Colin Meloy. The Decemberists frontman is capable of many wondrous things: writing a pop song that casually employs the word “balustrade,” for one; convincingly delivering lines like “My name is Leslie Anne Levine” in tenor, for two. And, truth be told, he’s written four full-length records that, [...]
Here Comes Your Fan: The Accidental Venue
3 CommentsPosted on Wednesday, April 16th, 2008
Last Monday night, I found myself wandering under the Fremont Bridge’s industrial east side. The block I was pacing—between North Albina Avenue and Tillamook Street, just off the MAX’s yellow line—was as empty as a ghost town. Half expecting to see tumbleweed roll by, I stood under the glow of streetlights repeating “1121 North Loring” [...]









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