In this late-stage capitalist hellscape we’ve all been sorta just existing in as it slowly and unceremoniously kills us, we seem to find solace in the smallest things. We are making up random bullshit holidays, traditions, ceremonies, or the evolved form of all three—memes—to stay sane. The internet has definitely helped to amplify these fairly meaningless gestures, connecting the disaffected peasants across the world to eat Tide Pods and boil chicken in Nyquil. Frankly, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Let the youth have as much fun as they can as the world crumbles around them. It’s not like anyone under the age of forty will ever be able to buy a house. Let them eat Tide Pods! At least they stack dishes when they’re done eating at a restaurant.
But we’re not here to talk about harmless child’s play. I’m referring specifically to the new arbitrary Lent we’ve made for ourselves out of sheer boredom or societal pressure. Not Dry January or Sober October, as those are plants from Christian organizations. The ones I’m picking on are the ones you’ll start seeing cropping up on your social media feed this month—specifically, No Shave November and No Nut November.
Phooey to both these abstinences. Although I can’t yet prove that No Nut November is yet another plant from some evil Christian organization, I’m sure they’ll piggyback onto it shortly. I can’t trace any evil origins of No Shave November, as Movember seems to be a pretty benign charity, but still, these two things combined make for November to be the absolute worst time to be in Portland. The last thing this city needs is all the unwashed, pseudo-intellectual manchildren here to grow out their gross, uneven neckbeards and seethe with even more unfucked angst. Abstinence from shaving and nutting is the opposite of what needs to happen in this city as summer winds to a close (thanks to climate change). I propose a different tradition for November in our sad, wet city.
No Show November!
Summer is over (or almost over, depending on where our CO2 levels are), and the holiday raves and end-of-year parties are yet to come. Let’s take this month to just take a break. Take a month off. Portland has way too many shows as it is. Every day of the week. Friends gotta miss their one friend’s shitty band to go see their other friend’s shitty band...on a Wednesday! It’s too much. We need a reset month. A cleansing month. A month off. I think it’s something we can all benefit from.
Rules are simple. Don’t book any shows. None at all. Not even a private house show. Not even an acoustic living room performance. Nadda.
I realize now that it’ll be hard to catch on with larger national acts. Tours gotta tour and generate that gold. We probably can’t get the Moda Center to cancel Lady Gaga’s performance or whathaveyou. Even smaller touring acts coming through Dante’s and Mississippi. That’s a tall ask, and I realize at these beginning stages, we can’t stop all live music in Portland —but we can stop live local music. For one month. Even if you get offered a coveted opening slot from one of your favorite indie groups at Crystal Ballroom, reject that offer! Respond to that email you’ve been waiting for your whole career with a resounding no. Not on No Show November.
This only works if we’re all on board.
I think it’ll be for the best. Rather than shaming folks for imbibing with their friends to celebrate or having natural, biologically necessary urges, this newfangled lent will give this city a much-needed break from the absolute glut of local bands that no one wants to hear. Hey, it might even spark some demand! Maybe by playing hard to get, we’ll actually get our friends to come out and bring their friends to that Wednesday show. They’ll say to themselves, "Hey, I like seeing my friend doing what they like, even if it’s at a bar in the middle of the week, for drink tickets. They seem happy."
With this month of cleansing, we might make our so-called friends appreciate our noisy, ego-stroking endeavors at least a little bit. Also, a month of not having to haul heavy-ass amps and drums sounds kinda nice.
Or don’t. Who cares? Time isn’t real, and the Earth is literally on fire every day. I just think a month of no local bands might be better for our collective mental health than being surrounded by a bunch of ugly, unkempt beards on blue-balled hipsters.
