Following a brief flirtation with the Belmont Street Fair and Old Town's Saturday Market, we (okay,
I) had a massive lunch at another historic seafood bar/restaurant. This time it was
Dan & Louis' Oyster Bar & Museum, which yielded smoked salmon chowder and the "house speciality" cioppino, a tomato-based featuring crabs, mussels, clams, halibut, cod, prawns, and calamari (i.e. the entire ocean). I helped it down with Roots Organic IPA and later had two respectable greyhounds (that's vodka and grapefruit juice) with grade-school pals at Ringlers Annex, one of many
McMenamins outposts around Portland.

But on to the music. We hit Crystal Ballroom (the site of my spiritual de-pantsing Thursday night) to catch
Mimicking Birds (right), a quiet Portland act signed to Isaac "Modest Mouse" Brock's vanity label Glacial Pace. Drowsily dwelling somewhere between Band of Horses, Iron & Wine, and M. Ward, the trio used brushed drums and longwinded jams to dreamy effect but were somewhat wallpaper-y.
Fellow locals
Blitzen Trapper then previewed tunes from their new album
Furr, out later this month. The wooly six-piece began with shambling psych, segued into a sort of classic rock gone gonzo, and gradually stepped up their country side for a shaggy-dog, foggy-mountain indie rock all their own. With that said, the new album's title track is a harmonica-soaked folk song very much indebted to Bob Dylan. Meanwhile, the title track of their previous album, the genre-hopping breakthrough
Wild Mountain Nation, was sloppy and spare compared to the LP version but still awfully grabby.
Another Sub Pop-signed Pacific Northwest act, Seattle's
Fleet Foxes, opened with an a capella tune that hushed the massive crowd completely. Leader Robin Pecknold said he usually doesn't stand to play and sing, explaining his awkward posture. But the band didn't slouch delivering its ringing, choral folk-rock, with highlights including "Sun Giant" and the especially quivering "White Winter Hymnal." And towards the end, the other four guys left Pecknold alone on stage to finish out the set.
By then, though, we were on our way to
Voodoo Doughnut, the 24-hour PDX cult classic where I procured the infamous maple donut with bacon on top, which tasted wonderfully like breakfast and not hideous at all. Then we hit
Ash Street Saloon for
Pierced Arrows, the grizzled Portland garage band that sprang from the unfortunate ashes of the two-decade institution Dead Moon (subject of a documentary film available on
Netflix, btw). Knocking out distorted and sweaty punk songs, the trio's long, wild hair spoke of another era of rock.
Nearby Dante's then yielded
Supernova, a ridiculous and ridiculously catchy pop-punk trio that cheekily goaded the crowd between brief, propulsive anthems. Between shiny suits and tin foil coating the guitar and drums, the guys were goofy even before delivering "Chewbacca (What A Wookie!)," their standout song used in the background of
Clerks.
Then came a reunited
Polvo at
Berbati's, just a block away from the previous two venues. As expected, many aging white dudes gyrated and bobbed to every weird twist and turn, and honestly, it was hard to resist the genre-defying (or is that -defining?) might of the North Carolina quartet's coo

ly magical and totally alien music, which is surprisingly melodic.
Back at Dante's and now after midnight, Sub Pop/Merge vets
Seaweed (left, also freshly reunited) thrilled a loyal crowd with their solid pop-punk (or post-hardcore?) anthem-making. For the second song, there was an instant sea of dancing, which greatly pleased still-charismatic singer Aaron Stauffer.
To wrap the night -- and the festival -- we wound up back at Ash Street Saloon for a 1am set by
Flipper (below right), the insane

'80s punk/noise outfit that these days features Nirvana's Krist Novoselic on bass. Their discordant screeching and "singer" Bruce Loose's lizard-like, in-your-face imp-isms were a little wearying after a long night, but it still felt like a rare opportunity to be in the same room with several music legends at once.
And with that, MusicFest NW came to a fulfilling close. As a member of Polvo said earlier in the night to the people of Portland: "You guys have a lovely city." He forgot to mention that they also have a lovely music festival. Or maybe it was just obvious.
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