MUSICAL
‘INFLUENCERS’
Meet six people who are instruments of the Eugene sound
usic scenes are like phantoms: Point them
out, and they disappear; name them and
they shift; call out a great house-show
venue and watch it evaporate.
It’s sometimes best to keep tabs on
a scene from the corner of your eye, a
silent interloper without much fanfare.
Historically Eugene has had good
music: a university breeding massive
entrenched institutions for classical
music and jazz; a history of blues and
acoustic string music; scrappy rock
bands with varying degrees of success.
And let’s not forget those Grateful Dead shows.
M
WORDS BY WILL KENNEDY • PHOTOS BY TODD COOPER
Eugene has more music than this town can handle and
better music than it deserves. But these days especially —
and not limited to underground punk, hardcore and garage
rock — there are whispers on the wind of things being as
good as ever: new venues, a proliferation of bands and a
planting of flags. Chatter coming from larger metro areas
says people are catching on. Our secret could soon be
revealed.
There’s more to a music scene than bands. They
can’t exist without networks of bookers, fans, labels and
advocates, so Eugene Weekly talked to a handful of people
who exert strong influence on Eugene’s music scene of
the future. They represent a cross section of Eugene’s DIY
ethos in indie music.
While thinking about this list, we considered words
like “important,” “powerful” or “best.” But we landed on
“influencer,” because influencer says exactly what we mean.
We picked these six people because their spark, drive
and ambition — whether in booking shows, performing on
stage, producing records or running labels — is part of the
“now” our little scene is experiencing, a momentum that
could catapult us into tomorrow.
So let’s not label what’s going on. Let’s just observe,
and see where it’s headed. And, in the meantime, let’s get
to know a few of the people who are helping us get there.
When it comes to DIY music, Josh Finch does it all. Former
editor of now-defunct Eugene music zine Exiled In Eugene,
Finch books shows at Old Nick’s Pub, operates a tape label
called Flossless Audio, plays bass in Eugene doom-core band
An Empty Room and is “primary noise-maker” with Entresol, a
one-person, self-described “queer-folk-noise-act.”
A background in a repressive “super-religious” household in
Central Oregon led Finch to music, and music, ultimately, led to
Eugene.
“I was an ‘indoor kid’ and was tormented at school,” Finch
recalls. “Music was the one place I could turn that always felt
inviting, supportive and warm. I wouldn’t be here without it.”
You self-identify as “non-gender binary.” How does that affect
your art?
If you asked me two years ago I’d have said it has nothing to
do with it. But it’s becoming more and more a thing because these
are dark fucking times, and music is one of the few positives in a
lot of these artists and young people’s lives.
Does Eugene music have a sound?
Eugene music sounds like experimentation, growth, and quite
often the record or EP an act releases right before [bands] figure
out what they really sound like. It is raw, fairly green and honest.
And sometimes that can sound like utter garbage if you’re looking
for something slick. But the overhead speakers at Starbucks will
always be there, if something safe is more your speed.
Joshua Isaac Finch
EDITOR, BOOKER, BASSIST,
NOISEMAKER
AGE: 35
10
A pril 13, 2017 • eugeneweekly.com
If you could change one thing about Eugene’s music scene
what would it be?
Better communication between venues. With more-careful
planning, there could be less direct competition between bigger
shows. The more often bigger name acts come through and have
a positive experience, the more quality experiences the local acts
will have as well.
A “next level” music scene requires a lot of support: volunteers
to throw fliers for your friends’ bands, volunteers to throw fliers
for DIY spaces like The Boreal. Host a house show. Offer couch
or floor space to touring bands, and maybe skip a guest-list spot
and pay at the door when your friends level up and play at a
bigger venue or with a bigger band. All of this stuff helps more
than it seems in the moment.
I feel as if the scene here is noticeably cyclical. There’s a
boom of local talent, an upswing in all-ages and house shows,
followed by a die-off, complaints of how things used to be better
(they probably weren’t) and then a lull before the process repeats.
But I see more rallying together and general scene support
than I’ve seen in years. I think that if we aren’t in an upswing,
we are building to one.