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She
Blinded Me With Science Of all the things rappers typically boast about — expensive cars, extravagant jewelry, loads of women — one's academic accomplishments are rarely ever mentioned. You name drop your hood, not your alma mater. This is not to say that rappers aren't bright. But since hip hop's infancy, the rap industry, hip hop culture's parasitic twin, has dictated that money and virility take precedent over erudition. Notwithstanding these restrictive norms (including probably the largest of them — rap's gender barrier), Cristalle Bowen (aka Psalm One) decided that if she was going to keep it real, she couldn't betray her chemistry degree.
Rap and science — not to be confused with the junk science you hear on Dr. Octagon records. Maybe the two were made strange bedfellows at some point within Wu-Tang's oeuvre. But I know for a fact that even the brilliantly verbose GZA could not stake claim to having earned a chemistry degree. Not only did Psalm One graduate from the University of Illinois, she has two years of actual lab work under her belt. "I'm proud of my accomplishments since graduating college," she said over the phone as she prepared to embark on her new tour with guru and Rhymesayers label mate Atmosphere. "And in my music, I touch upon everything that is relevant to me in my life." With bits of her history meticulously stowed in every song, Psalm's new album, Death of Frequent Flyer, succeeds in championing the autobiographical, documentary tradition of great underground hip hop records such as One Day It'll All Make Sense, Reflection Eternal and Headshots: Se7en. On Death of Frequent Flyer, Psalm charts the course of her precocious youth (she's only 26) — from growing up an awkward kid infatuated with hip hop to her days making "a living" at Silliker, a food safety lab that test nutritional claims on food labels. Although reconciling a normal career with a rap career is nothing new to hip hop, on "The Living," the album's second track, Psalm the raconteur eloquently revisits the days when she would bounce between her day job and the night clubs where she would perform. She raps, "Sweatpants holey from the hydrochloric / I smell like chemicals I try to ignore it / They don't know the words but they like the chorus / And my back hurts from workin' but I hide the soreness." "It's been tough," she explained. "And a lot of people might think that I had it easy, but I always just worked really, really hard." Even with all of the self-reflexive content, the album steers clear from anything too effusive or emo-tive. After struggling for over six years to break down female MC stereotypes and earn her credibility as an MC who could stand side by side with the most thuggish male rapper, Psalm will not hesitate to get downright abusive with female MCs who settle for being "good for a girl." "There are a lot of wack-ass female rappers in the underground," she said. On "Rapper Girls," with lyrics like, "My boyfriend could find a better use for your mouth, bitch," Psalm bares her pernicious side as she incredulously harangues those female MCs who rely on their looks rather than their words to earn their street-cred. The album represents Rhymesayers' first album by a female MC, but it stands out as a solid hop hop album by a rapper of any gender.
Third Time's Even More Charming
Earlier this month, opening for Sleater-Kinney at Portland's Crystal Ballroom, The Thermals were a study in contrasts. Singer/guitarist Hutch Harris stood nearly still but for his strumming right hand, a taut line of contained, noisemaking energy. Bassist Kathy Foster bounced constantly, curly hair bobbing, a Mona Lisa smile on her face. Though the band is just a duo on The Thermals' new album, The Body, the Blood, the Machine, it'd be hard for Foster to play both bass and drums live; a new drummer sat midstage, shirtless, slick dark hair flying. You wouldn't have guessed the drummer was new: The set was swift and sleek, loud and exuberant, totally charming. The Body, produced by Brendan Canty of Fugazi, is The Thermals' third album. The Portland band's sound is still rooted in scrappy, distorted guitars and Harris' distinctive yelp — he sings as if something awful is about to cut him off for good — but Body has a slightly different feeling simmering under the hyperactive, driving jangle. Maybe melancholy, maybe anger, or maybe, if the band bio is to be believed, paranoia. The album art shows a Jesus figure, eyes covered by a black bar, in front of a darkened earth, a pile of junk and a bank of roiling clouds, and the lyrical content tends to the disaffected and bitter. "So bend your knees and bow your heads / Save your babies / Here's your future," Harris chants on the crashing opening track, heading from there into a song called "I Might Need You to Kill." Happy stuff, that. But The Thermals have a knack for wrapping their bouncy, infectious songs around sharply observational lyrics. From the absurdly catchy "No Culture Icons" on More Parts Per Million to Fuckin' A's biting "God and Country," The Thermals have always been a thoughtful band, but The Body brings their more political concerns to the fore. "We are wide awake, but our legs are shaky," Harris sings on "Power Doesn't Run on Nothing." The Thermals play a CD release show at 7:30 pm Friday, Aug. 25 at the WOW Hall with opening acts Wet Confetti and Kenzie. $8 adv., $10 dos. — Molly Templeton
Cold and Classic In a music world where subgenre has come to replace genre in defining a band's sound, Javelina prefers to stick to the basics. "We're hard rock-influenced metal," says drummer Micaela Frank. "That's about it."
For a band that hasn't been around long and gone through more member changes than Spinal Tap, Javelina has kept a grip on its mission, playing hard in the Eugene/Springfield area and cutting a three-song demo. Songs like "Partial Problem" and "Puppies and Candy" show off the band's ability to drop a bouncing headbanger with the former and a depressing, grungy melody with the latter. "We have different guitar styles for sure," says guitarist Robert Wilson. "In the case of Guy [Lindgren], our other guitarist, he has more of a '90s music influence with his playing. Now me, I prefer old Soulfly, chugging rhythms, things like that." The band even incorporates some reggae influences based in the roots of Frank's drumwork. She uses a very slow yet pounding beat on "Partial Problem" that is a stark contrast from singer Uriah's snarling yell. When it comes to heavy metal, Javelina strips it down to the roots and builds from the ground up in defining their one true sound. "Right now, we're just focused on playing more shows and writing more songs," says Wilson, "and we're really happy with what we've got so far." Javelina plays with Somewhat Envious, Dopethrone Majesty and The Athiarchists at 9 pm Saturday, Aug. 26 at John Henry's. 21+ show. $3. — Dan Hoyt
Southern Fried Vintage Jazz
Datri Bean is not a performer who woke up one day and decided to try out revival music. Her songs ring with the authentic tone of an artist who was raised on the rootsy rumblings of early jazz and Americana. Slow Down Summertime, her debut album, includes several whisky-swirlin', toe-tappin' ditties intermixed with a few livelier tracks and occasionally slowed with a stark ballad. The opening song, "Sweet Tea," sets a sexy, engaging tone for the record, backing Bean's raw, sultry vocals with a slinky jazz-clarinet melody provided by Asylum Street Spanker Stanley Smith. "Jim's Giant Truck Stop" stands out as the songwriting triumph of the album, transporting Bean's listeners to a Nebraska diner with gut-wrenchingly vivid images of a woman taking stock of the reality of a place in life she never expected to find herself. Bean's ability to fuse jazz piano, horns and folk music and her incredibly talented band should not be underestimated, but it is her "sepia toned vocals" that move her work beyond simply an enjoyable experiment in making the old new again and classify her as both a talent and a visionary. Rounding out the old-timey ticket is Sassparilla, a bluesy jug band originally from Chicago. Sassparilla boasts a markedly different sound (think washboard instead of clarinet) but a similarly delightful ability to nod in the direction of old blues and ragtime without mimicking artists of the past (although they do a killer version of "Ain't Nobody's Business" that fans of Billie Holiday would likely endorse). Datri Bean and Sassparilla play at 9 pm Sunday, Aug. 27 at Sam Bond's Garage. 21+ show. $5. — Adrienne van der Valk
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