Renegade Magazine

Portland, Oregon | May 27th | Hank Stram

As I browsed for things to do on Saturday night, I came across Apotheke and their 1 year anniversay party. A number of MJ’s (Macintosh Jockeys), and the part that sold the whole deal was it was free. After getting my shit together and head downtown I stop at my Friends Swan Lewis’s and have to wait for him to put the finishing touches on his outfit. The order for the night was as follows; The Grand to drop-off cannibus and get free drinks. 2. See what this whole “apotheke” thing was. 3. Find out what life in the tube is like on Saturday night. (more…)

Portland, Oregon | May 20th | Dan Hagan
B Movie Extravaganza and hecklewood fall line release party.

So this is one of those evenings when you’ve just had a cool beer outside on a hot spring day and feel great. I had never been to hecklewood before, so Sam Huff of hecklewood, explained the store has been there for four months. He continued saying that most of the designs are collaborations between himself and his girlfriend Meghan Wright. He works and creates at the store front Tues- Sat 11 til 6, Sun 12 til 5. (more…)

Portand, Oregon | May 23rd | Staff

Renegade magazine had a chance to sit down with Ashley Montague. An artist making a name for himself in the Northwest art world. Recently at Braveart part of Telus World Ski and Snowboard Festival in Whistler Canada, he was invited to participate in live painting events in Vancouver. Currently he has a show at Local35 through June 8th. As of this interview he was just finishing up 5 new pieces that will be at the Black Market Culture’s “Manifestation” show at the Goodfoot, May 25th. (more…)

Blurring the lines between mid, and upper-midtempo music, comes the latest mix from DJ saltfeend.
The mix spans breakbeat. 80’s, techno, and even a little house. He draws on his decade of experience playing out, to create a mix that is new, old, and forward thinking. Its a funked up mix with sweeping filters, and carefully placed scratches. When asked why he put this mix together, he said, “Because there was a hole in the 110 BPM universe, and it needed to be filled.” Ok then…………Track 13 55.mp3
More mixes coming soon……

By Laura Ellsworth

two days of sweltering heat, insane performances, and way too many drugs.
This is Coachella and it is grand.
So I arrived with best friend in tow, nearly four full hours later than I‘d expected. The traffic is horrific if you don’t come early, and this being our very first year, we were appalled at the long lines of cars waiting to get into the overflowing parking lots. After spending something like two hours traveling the equivalent of ten city blocks, we finally found parking in a satellite parking lot. The thing about the venue is that most of the time it’s a polo field, so there are horses and horse manure everywhere. Braving the gauntlet of scalpers and swarms of gnats, I purchased a camping pass at the last minute for 50 bucks and headed in. (more…)

Continued from last week…

The funeral was beautiful, if somewhat sparsely attended, with sun seeping through the balmy boughs of the palms that lined the memorial park. After the ceremony, while chatting with a few generally reliable sources, over a few generally reliable drinks, I learned, and was reminded of, much.

First, Phil’s sister Jeanie brought to my attention something I’d completely forgotten, something that might bring the Dr. Phil saga a bit closer to home: Do you recall the incident a few years ago where a guy had one of his fingers bitten off by a Portland Police horse? It was in the papers, and even made it briefly into the national media.

Anyway, yes, that was Dr. Phil.

Long story short, he’d come to visit, and after a night of partying downtown, we stumbled by the stables where the cops keep their horses, which was on the way to my apartment at the time. I remember we were having a particularly heated and boozy argument about whether dogs or whales had greater intellectual capacity, and midway through one of my rants (I was on the dog side of the debate, my thesis being that they had to deal with people, which is always a complex and trying proposition, while whales simply swam around and beeped at one another) I realized that Dr. Phil was no longer with me. I looked back about half a block to find him scaling the fence to the stables, and just as he reached the top, one of the horses came by and, for no apparent reason, plucked one of his pinkies right off, chewed it, and swallowed it.
(more…)

This week’s column is, alas, posted in absentia, far from fair Portland and its newly sprung spring. What’s worse, the matter that keeps me away is a sad one—a funeral, a friend.

The decedent, as it turns out, is Phil—Dr. Phil, actually. That’s what I called him. And mind you, this was before the other Dr. Phil insinuated himself into the national consciousness. In fact, Dr. Phil, my Dr. Phil, the dead one, was a bona fide hater of the other Dr. Phil, took great, dramatic pains to point out the he was nothing but a “pop psychologist,” certainly “not a physician,” and just to make sure there was no confusion, “a fat, bald asshole”—despite the fact that he looked amazingly like a younger version of the very same “fat, bald asshole.”

For a while, Dr. Phil, my Dr. Phil, insisted that I call him “Dr. Phil, MD,” but it smacked of 70s TV and never really caught on. (more…)