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Perfume Genius – Tickets – Revolution Hall – Portland, OR – July 16th, 2017

Perfume Genius

Revolution Hall Presents

Perfume Genius

Serpentwithfeet

Sun, July 16, 2017

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

$18 ADV / $22 DOS

This event is all ages

GA Fully Seated 

Perfume Genius
Perfume Genius
Perfume Genius is Mike Hadreas, a Seattle songwriter whose jarring 2010 debut album, Learning, was called “an album of rare, redemptive beauty...one of the most uniquely endearing and quietly forceful debut albums of recent years” by Drowned In Sound, and established him as one of the most singular songwriters today. The bulk of Learning sprung from a time of self-imposed isolation in his mother’s suburban home following a period of trauma and self-destruction. The album was actually mastered from second-generation MP3s, as Hadreas had lost the original recordings, and this distant, abraded sound reinforced its harrowing tales and haunting melodies.
“No secret/No matter how nasty/Can poison your voice/Or keep you from joy.” – Perfume Genius, “Normal Song”

Though Learning’s voyeuristic window into Hadreas’s experiences resonated intensely with many people, his new album Put Your Back N 2 It is much more universal, addressing intimacy, power, family, secrecy, and hope not just through his impressionistic lyrics, but the music itself, which is as lush as Learning was stark. It’s a gorgeous soundtrack for anyone trying to keep it together in everyday life, and about moving forward. “I don’t want it to seem like I’ve been through more than other people,” Hadreas says. “Everyone has stuff. Staying healthy can be more depressing and confusing than being fucked up. But I want to make music that’s honest and hopeful.”
The hypnotic songs on Put Your Back N 2 It are tender and moving, but they are also surreal and grand, recalling at times the universality of lullabies and hymns, faraway folk songs, the dramatic arc of a film score, and the almost spiritual quality suggests a kind of opiated gospel. He cites as a primary influence not one of the indie icons to which he’s sometimes compared (Cat Power, Bon Iver, Thom Yorke), but The Innocence Mission (“not their sound, but their timelessness”).
The following is something about each song on the album, in Hadreas’s own words:
AWOL MARINE: This is from some unedited homemade basement porn I watched, with an old man and some hustlers. You can see or hear them doing drugs off camera. They leave the camera running before and about ten minutes after the "scenes", and I am sort of obsessed with watching the before and after. One guy told the cameraman he was just doing the video to get money for his wife's medicine. Then there is a close up of his face. The old man always explains that he will edit out the guys' faces but he never does. That is the specifics of where it started, but I was also trying to show the desperation, demoralization and soullessness that comes with addiction, and what you’re willing to do to get what you need.

NORMAL SONG: I wrote this for my friends and family that feel like damaged goods after some of their experiences. Even if you didn't have a hand in what happened to you, somehow when you get older the lingering ickiness can feel like your fault. But that’s poison, not true. Heather is not a big nasty secret, my mom is not a big nasty secret, Heather is not the first 25 years of her life, I am not 16 hours at the Sheraton. I just wanted to write a straight up, normal song about it.
NO TEAR: My circumstances have gotten a lot better and sometimes I’m scared that if they go away, I won’t be able to carry on being healthy. There have been three times where I felt like if the music thing tanks, if I end up alone - everything will still be OK. So i wanted to write a song to remind me and also to remind Heather's crazy ass that she doesn't need a man to do right by herself.
17: Almost every gay man I have met has body image issues. They are all tripping! I think it is an easy place for your brain to dump everything. A lot of times you have no idea why you feel so shitty, so you can pick at your face. I named it 17 because of teenagers, who are always tripping and killing themselves. It is basically a gay suicide letter, so...sorry about that. But I was not always interested in listening to anything triumphant when I was a teenager, or even that it gets better. I think that is really valuable but sometimes I wanted to hear that someone felt exactly as grim and bleak as I did, and have it written out for me. That is important too, and not an invitation.
TAKE ME HOME: I wanted to write a pop song about hookerism, so if it was in a commercial or something I could say that song is about hookerism. It’s about that old feeling where you are out of money and options and just combing the streets for anybody that will take you wherever and you will do and be whatever they want and completely annihilate yourself as long as they keep feeding you drugs and you never have to move. Also I was just trying to
write about in relationships when you are willing to give up everything and erase yourself for the other person, because you are so scared of being alone.
DIRGE is an Edna St. Vincent Millay poem from 1921.
DARK PARTS: This song is about my mom. I was worried about showing her, but she cried through the whole thing. I wanted to take something from her life that wasn't happy, and turn it in to something triumphant, to remind her how strong and beautiful and loved and important she is. She doesn’t like the last line and says that her dark parts belong to her alone.
ALL WATERS: Why are straight women always walking with their hands in the back pocket of their boyfriends’ jeans? Would I do that all the time too if I didn't have to think about it? Alan and I hold hands in specific parts of the city and sometimes outside of those parts. But there is always a little ‘catch’; no matter how much I think the shame and fear is gone, there is always a little something in the back of my mind. I am almost embarrassed sometimes when we are holding hands, and that fucking infuriates me. I can't even imagine that hesitation ever going away, and that makes me very sad.
HOOD: This is about when you feel like if someone really knew you, they would leave. Very revolutionary.
PUT YOUR BACK N 2 IT: I wrote this for Alan before we got together. It’s about how if you show me everything and I really, truly know you, I will never leave. I wanted to write a gay love song with two men singing together. It is also about gay sex. There is not a lot of grace or tenderness in early homo sex sometimes; I wanted to teach Alan that we can still do the right thing and it will be really warm and cool. I wrote it and had Alan sing it with me before he knew it was about him.
FLOATING SPIT: This song is about overdosing and going to the other side, about a few times where I thought I was close to doing that. Who knows if I was or not, but I certainly felt like it. I was also thinking about if the Neverending Story took place in a bathhouse, what that would look or sound like, and what would the creatures would look like? Probably a lot of floating spit.
SISTER SONG: I was imagining someone leaving all the things in someone’s room the same after that person had died, or that they were going to rehab and their family and friends would hold down the fort while they were gone.
Serpentwithfeet
After spending years studying as a classical vocalist, 27-year-old Baltimore-born artist serpentwithfeet (a nom de plume for Josiah Wise) spent time drifting around Paris and London before eventually landing in NYC. It was here that his music-a beautiful confluence of gospel and classically-inflected electronica-began to truly take shape.
"I decided in 2012 or in 2013 that I didn't want a band anymore," he recalls, "I was like, "What would happen if I did my R&B thing over this classical shit" It took a while, but I started to wonder if I could make something that satisfies other people and myself. I want the music to resonate with people. I didn't start thinking about that until I moved to New York, to be honest."
blisters is serpentwithfeet's first EP from Tri Angle Records. After spending a few years experimenting-both musically and visually-in NYC's underground queer music scene ("I was basically just posting something new every week on Soundcloud, waiting for someone to take notice," he says), Wise eventually struck on a sound and a sentiment that made sense. On "four ethers," the third single to be taken from blisters, serpentwithfeet wonders aloud what it would feel like to be violently transparent, and finds him in pursuit of a rare honesty. Huge swathes of strings and percussion emphatically rise and crash turbulently against Wise's questioning voice as he ultimately asks: "How can I touch somebody who wont even touch themselves?" "four ethers" might be serpentwithfeet's most powerful and dramatic work to date.
A similar kind of emotional dynamic runs throughout all of blisters. Tracks like "penance" and "redemption" vacillate between hushed intimacy and huge emotional swells. On the EP's title track, Wise's multi-tracked voice plays against gently-plucked harp and syncopated handclaps, the record's gospel affectations and slinky R&B tropes fusing into something unique, exotic, and strangely beautiful. Meanwhile, surrounded by strings, subtle electronics and Wise's restrained piano playing--and buoyed aloft by production courtesy of The Haxan Cloak- the EP's first single, "flickering," is the perfect showcase for Wise's powerhouse voice. "I'm starting to feel the cord connecting us two is made of gossamer," he sings. "I'm starting to feel there's no cord between us two/are we made of gossamer?" The track unspools with a kind of hushed intimacy, the tone and tenor of Wise's voice rising and falling like a breath until the song itself crests and flutters before disappearing completely.
Given that he credits both Brandy and Bjork as inspirations, it's not surprising that serpentwithfeet treads a fine line between emotive gospel and more left-of-centre stylings. With his own gloriously outré personal style and penchant for the dramatic, it also makes sense that the music Wise makes would be so remarkably unclassifiable. "It feels very free because I also feel very free," he says. "I don't feel like being gay restricts me in the same way I also don't feel like being black restricts me. In fact, it only makes me more interesting. Making music has always been about making a space for myself in the world. My theory has always been that if you walk into a room and say, 'This is my room'-it's your room. The End."