Starlight Patio Sessions

First off, you know how the Star Theater has that bad-ass patio with the fire pit and the outside bar that’s sometimes open if shows are busy enough, and the food window? So, that’s sort of it’s "own thing" now. They call it the Starlight Patio, which doesn’t really make sense in the summer, since the sun doesn’t go down ‘til like midnight in the mighty Pacific Northwest, and when it does, this patio is plopped in the literal center of downtown, so starlight is tough to come by. Still, neat name, so points for that.

While you’ll mostly likely find yourself on this patio during a smoke break for one of the rad shows held at this venue (I’m not pandering— I honestly like it better than Roseland), they are now establishing themselves as a separate, low-key entity, with Christopher Worth’s Starlight Patio Sessions spearheading the new side stage.

Worth already has quite the pedigree in the Portland music scene and I appreciate someone with even moderate success in the industry who makes an effort to help cultivate Portland’s precarious scene. The Starlight Patio Sessions is actually an extension of another songwriter night Worth curated in 2016, called The Atlantis Underground, at the Atlantis Lounge at Missisippi Pizza—a fall and winter event. This is the summer twist. Worth is also an actively touring and recording musician and even has to sub in a host sometimes, to keep these Wednesday sessions going. Still, it’s pretty neat that he otherwise takes on a weekly happening (which is a huge commitment for any musician trying to eek out a living) to help promote other talent in this city.

They key word here is "talent." These Patio Sessions are a showcase. This is not an open mic. I’m not trying to shit on open mics (and, thus, be banned from any-and-all in this city, since I’m still at the bottom), but there is a substantial difference between an open mic and a showcase. "Songwriters who polished their craft," as Worth puts it. These are pros like Worth and the main reason for hosting this thing is ‘cause he "wanted to create a scene, where we could host touring songwriters to come through and play for a full house, get paid a bit and use the night to promote what other shows they have in town."

So, you’ll be seeing artists here in a cute little intimate setting that’ll be playing White Eagle and the Whitaker Block Party in Eugene. This is the kind of venue where you could possibly say you saw the next Taylor Swift or Bon Iver.

That being said, if you are an aspiring singer- songwriter that doesn’t suck too much, don’t hesitate to try to muscle your way into this showcase. The acts are selected by Worth, but there are sometimes some light nights. Last time I attended, the guest host, Wil Kinky, was asking if anyone in the audience wanted to get up and play some songs before the headliner. So, the feel is loose and friends-and-family-style and if you think you don’t sound like garbage, it could be a night like this, where you get up and get put into the rotation. "70% curated songwriter night, 20% open mic and 10% free-for-all." This isn’t the case every week, but something to keep in mind, if you’re looking to get a step above playing open mics.

I must reiterate the loose feel. Worth clearly has a tight little circle of musicians and their on-and-off-stage banter is pretty witty. Chemistry is quite obvious. Plus, you’ll see a lot of the artists get up on stage during other people’s sets. No one ever steps on the others’ toes and collaborations usually turn out entertaining. One such night, Worth ended the evening with a cover of James Brown’s "It’s A Man’s Man’s Man’s World," acknowledging the chauvinism beforehand (I mean, it’s still a good song.) One of the featured performer’s that night, Cassandra Lewis, was egged on stage to accompany him and successfully morphed the lyrics of the song to be about vaginas. Fairly soon, the entire audience was singing about vaginas. It was a good night.

Regarding that feel, this is a very hippie, tie-dye, hemp bras, nose rings and dreadlocks crowd. If any of the above bother you, I highly recommend not attending and being a downer—just know, that’s the vibe going in and enjoy it. I attended the showcase after Oregon Country Fair and it was honestly pretty entertaining how wiped-out all the performers were, after they’d all literally just gotten back from the event. Everyone was sunburned, mind-fried and hoarse from all the goddamn dust at that thing—solidarity. I should also clarify, that although the scene is very 1967-forever, there’s still quite a bit of diversity in the performers. It’s not all acoustic guitars. Worth brings a Fender Rhodes (spelled it right this time), which is half the reason I stuck around the first time I attended. Unkle Nancy, of Eugene fame, busted into an impressive hip-hop freestyle. There was some perfectly-fine-regular-not-slam poetry by Willow Emmett, later accompanied by interpretive dance and guitar on a whim. You’re probably getting a sense of what to expect.

In terms of diversity, Worth does a good job getting people from around the country, rather than just a Portland singer-songwriter circle jerk. Plus, although it is mostly a quieter, acoustic affair, these are artists that also have working, touring, recording bands. One of the more recent performers, Trill LeBeau, hails from New Orleans and currently lives in Hawaii. His band, Cosmic Serenity, has, like, music videos and shit. The above-mentioned Cassandra Lewis fronts The Foxxtones out of San Francisco. Her set was really what sold me on the whole thing, since most of her banter was about whiskey and vaginas. Literally, my two favorite things, with mac ‘n’ cheese being a close third.

The last, and perhaps most unique, thing about this little shindig that I would like to mention is the location. If you’ve been to that patio, you know it’s clutch, but converted into a proper venue, there is something really aesthetically pleasing about the whole experience. It reminds me of something that would happen in the Bay Area. Live music in a relaxed patio, topped with those neat triangle shade structures. You look up and there’s Big Pink, looming above. Look out the gate and there’s a bunch of homeless people, arguing about who the jar of mayonnaise belongs to. On a good night, cop cars speed by, red and blue lights flashing, sirens blaring. There’s something to be said for the comfort of a laid back, acoustic, non-claustrophobic, open and friendly atmosphere—immediately surrounded by a dirty, suffocating, intimidating city backdrop. I think it’s neat.