Positively twee and free kitten advice

Portland dreams: Singer Elisabeth Ellison could easily pull off a career in jazz, soul, electro-pop or experimental rock. Instead, she does them all in striking juxtaposition.

These juxtapositions make Portland’s Radiation City captivating for days on end. On the quintet’s three albums, you can hear both modern and old-school, stateside and foreign influences: bossa nova giants, ’70s disco, the Beach Boys, the Flaming Lips. Yet live, some of the group’s three-part vocal harmonies run the way of the Dirty Projectors. At times it’s organ-driven and moody; other times ethereal pop. Always intriguing.

Radiation City played at Witch Room last week—one of two excellent Portland bands on the bill that drew out a big crowd for a Tuesday night. But Radiation City’s set was missing a little extra something. Its members mostly stood lackluster, and Ellison didn’t take the lead on any audience engagement.

That was not the case with headliner Wild Ones, the younger of the two groups with just one album out so far. Danielle Sullivan is not just the lead vocalist, she’s a dazzling frontwoman with the uncanny ability to make you feel extraordinarily special—like she’s singing directly to you, like a song exists just for you.

I’m not sure what her secret is. Perhaps she strategically directs those big doe eyes to one point in the room at a time, for an almost uncomfortably lengthy period.

On Wild Ones’ debut Keep It Safe, Sullivan’s voice is soft yet piercing. Sometimes it’s positively twee. At Witch Room, I found it distinctive, maybe even perfect. And the five-piece’s dreamy indie-pop feels a little less straightforward, a little less synth-driven, live than on the record as well.

It was clear that Wild Ones had already built a local following—the band has played Witch Room and Sophia’s Thai Kitchen in Davis within the past few months. Hopefully Sacramento continues to be a regular stop.

Hood life: Seminal Sacramento hardcore band Hoods is going on 20 years of rocking out and not giving a shit. But its last album was Pit Beast in 2009. What the hell has Mike Hood been doing since?

Opening his Midtown barber shop, True Blue Barber and Shave Parlour; touring a lot in Europe, Japan and Mexico; and taking his sweet time writing with zero label pressure.

Kids stateside wondered if the band broke up. To that, Hood laughs. Never.

Hoods’ new record Gato Negro dropped Tuesday, November 25, on Artery Records—that’s Ace of Spades owner Eric Rushing’s label. Hood says it’s his best yet, and his longest period ever between albums.

“I had to get my life in order,” he says by email. “Being an older touring musician isn’t easy. I’ve easily done over 2,000 shows with Hoods; 2015 will be our 20-year mark—20 more!”

On Gato Negro, Hoods plays loud, fast and tight per usual, but with more of a street punk edge. Thematically, Hood says he dedicated two songs to two friends who died recently, while another focuses on Israel. “We’re sitting here doing nothing,” he says. “It’s genocide.”

The whole album is basically “us against them,” hence the album name.

“The black cat has always been most hated,” Hood says. “I feel as a band we have always been against the grain. Bands were scared to tour with us so we had to book our own for years. It’s a struggle that I believe we won.”

The cover depicts a menacing feline, with a spiked collar, sword, piercings and some formidable spit. Hood’s pets probably don’t look quite like that, but the album is for his three cats, Chum Chum, Bella and Friendly.

I had to ask Hood if he had any advice for a new kitten owner. My recent nights have been challenging, with a certain little friend stepping on my throat and pouncing at my feet.

“No, you will never sleep until kitty is content,” he says. “Lots of pets and love and kitty will chill. Get a laser pointer, turn on some Hoods, cat mosh!”

Brilliant. Find a regular human mosh pit at Hoods’ album release party at the Blue Lamp, 1400 Alhambra Boulevard, on Sunday, November 30.

—Janelle Bitker