SOLD OUT: Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside – Tickets – Mississippi Studios – Portland, OR – March 1st, 2019

SOLD OUT: Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside

Two nights with the beloved and one-of-a-kind Portland rock songwriter and her classic band

SOLD OUT: Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside

Roselit Bone

Fri, March 1, 2019

Doors: 8:00 pm / Show: 9:00 pm

$20 ADV/DOS

This event is 21 and over

Mostly Standing / Limited Balcony Seating

 

SOLD OUT: Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside
SOLD OUT: Sallie Ford & The Sound Outside
Combining elements of jazz, R&B, and rock & roll -- all during the early stages of their development -- and fusing it with a contemporary energy and swagger, Sallie Ford & the Sound Outside are a Portland, Oregon-based quartet who've earned an impressive following in their hometown and made some influential fans, including the Avett Brothers, who've championed the combo and taken them on the road with them.

Lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist Sallie Ford was raised in Asheville, North Carolina and came from a creative family; her father Hobey Ford is a celebrated puppet artist and her mother is a music teacher. While Sallie learned to play guitar and violin as a child, and enjoyed singing as a teenager, she found herself intimidated by the artistic path followed by her parents and siblings (both of whom were involved in the performing arts), and has described herself as "the weird one" in the family. That changed when Ford moved to Portland in 2006 after dropping out of college; influenced by Cat Power, the Squirrel Nut Zippers, and Tom Waits, Ford developed greater confidence in her vocal abilities and began appearing at open-mike nights at local clubs. In 2008, she crossed paths with bassist Tyler Tornfelt and drummer Ford Tennis, two friends from Alaska who had been making music together for years and had recently relocated to Portland. Ford discovered she was simpatico with Tornfelt and Tennis, and they began performing together as a trio; when guitarist Jeffrey Munger heard them while playing for change on the street, he liked what he heard and soon volunteered his services, and Sallie Ford & the Sound Outside's lineup was complete.
Roselit Bone
Roselit Bone
When asking Charlotte McCaslin to describe Roselit Bone’s new record, Crisis Actor, with one word, she responds, “fucked.”

After several years of touring the US, the band has gone from relative unknowns to somewhat cult status, having perfected an infectious and powerful live show that falls somewhere between a demented Roy Orbison and an angelic Gun Club. Their anthems of loneliness, alienation, and triumph have allowed them to artfully navigate through a cluttered underground scene, captivating audiences and transfixing crowds in a nightly conversion ritual. On their newest release, they paint a picture of a world that is truly “fucked,” lacing vignettes of systemic violence, sexual confusion, and class warfare with a wry, suicidal humor straight from the gut of America. “I didn’t see the ascendancy of fascism as anything new here, so my freshest feelings of disgust were toward anyone who could point their finger in one direction and walk away with a smirk on their face.” Charlotte admits. When asked how the punk influence fits in, she smiles, “I don’t align with any genre. For me, the essence of punk is in dealing unflinchingly with the misery and violence of lower-class city life, coming out alive, and wearing your scars proudly.”

Crisis Actor’s birth can be traced back to Charlotte’s time growing up in Southern California’s Orange County; a place where economic exploitation and casual discrimination were intertwined and buried amid a sea of sunshine and palm trees. Eventually she found punk, idolizing Los Angeles bands like X and The Cramps. Nights were spent traveling to the Inland Empire (Riverside County) to witness countless shows at the Showcase, which at times would break out into bloodbaths. It was punks on punks, cops on punks. “There was always a threat of violence from skinheads, tweakers, gangs, or the cops there.” At twenty-one, Charlotte had seen enough and ditched Southern California for the more insular Pacific Northwest, picking Portland’s grayed out radius as a welcome landing spot. “Ten years ago, it was cheap and a good place to strike out on your own,” she notes. By the time she met guitarist Victor Franco and drummer Ben Dahmes, the nucleus of Roselit Bone was born.

Fast forward seven years and two full length records later, Roselit Bone entered Supernatural Sound (Oregon City, OR) to begin tracking Crisis Actor. Charlotte would oversee the majority of the writing and production. The sessions were long, but after only a few days, the seven piece band had recorded the bulk of the record live. It was a valiant effort to capture the manic energy of their live set which previous records had yet to fully realize. Yet by the time Noah Georgeson (Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom) was tapped to mix the album, Charlotte was immersed in something even more profound – the beginning of her gender transition. “There are echoes of what was to come in the lyrics of this record. I spent hours tracking the vocals on the title track, getting deeper with each take into the headspace of the toxic, angry, sexually confused person I inhabit on that song. At the end of it I was totally drained and felt an amplification of the anxiety that I came to recognize as gender dysphoria.” And with such a revelation, there follows a sense of distraction that can accompany it, one that Charlotte is quick to point out. “I don’t think people should see this album much through the lens of my transition, as it was written before I knew what was going on.”

Beyond Crisis Actor’s self deprecation and societal condemnation, there’s a sweeter side that lies just beneath a half-cocked smirk. When singing, “I hate myself and I’m at war with the world around me” on “I Pissed The Bed,” the tension between honesty and illusion is forthcoming, and ultimately points out the beauty and ugliness that Charlotte aims to document. “Sometimes I’m speaking from the most despicable part of myself, sometimes I’m trying to find common cause with people who would want me dead, sometimes I’m just telling funny stories from tour,” she freely admits. While “Proving Grounds” sends an anthemic howl across the bombed out desert with “I was glad to have been sterilized / but now I’m pissing blood,” “Laughlin, NV” blares with a tweaked out country swing that only a group of fearless misfits could attain, capsized by “Every hand’s a winner / until we’re coming down / On the Colorado River / slow dancing in the loser’s lounge.” It’s like a pair of forgotten moments from Bukowski’s Ham on Rye. In fact, it was Bukowski who once wrote, “The free soul is rare, but you know when you see it – basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.” If there is anything that encapsulates Roselit Bone, it must be this.

Crisis Actor’s arrangements are vast and ambitious, revealing a sonic, panoramic landscape where street urchins, psychedelic vaqueros, and drunken outlaws ride painted horses through a savage, dystopian, yet ultimately hopeful, punk rock future. It’s a record of layers, revealing itself more fully with each listen. Charlotte admits, “there’s a little bit of myself in every character,” and it’s precisely those characters that bring to life the record’s vision of a broken society straight from the American underbelly, one that the sprawling seven piece outfit so vividly mimics on stage. But in the end, it’s hard not to believe that this record lies somewhere within Charlotte herself, an artist on the cusp of rebirth, one that can only be described as beautifully as “fucked.”