By Kayla Krueger

I first met Ace outside of the WOW Hall. He looked like any other fellow who would roam the streets of Eugene, Oregon. His handlebar mustache and deadpan eyes aren’t out of character for this town. After introducing myself and explaining my role as the publicist at the Hall, I bid him good luck and headed into the drafty ballroom. 

I do this sort of thing often. Usually, the Hall is fettered with local college scenesters or Grateful Dead cover bands. I was familiar with this group, Ogre, but I hadn’t listened to any of their discography. Upon entering the Hall I chatted with my boss and the volunteers working the box office; going through the motions, trying to be agreeable. 

Ogre, a band based in Portland, Oregon, is a trio of characters. My new acquaintance, Ace, plays bass alongside Grace, who also plays bass. The two bass players mirrored each other like rhymes in a Dr. Suess book. Sitting atop the throne behind a noble drum kit is Nils. 

The draft of the Hall was especially chilling as the trio assembled onstage, with the addition of a saxophonist dressed as the Grim Reaper. Ace, the man I chatted with before, was now fitted in slacks, a collared shirt, suspenders, and an outlaw-esque cowboy hat. He placed a half gallon of whole milk on the risers. This all seemed deliberate. 

The first few notes of the bass guitar emulated the ticking of a clock. The notes came and went, as time does. The crowd simultaneously plunged into a conglomerate of sound. My jaw hit the floor. I was fascinated, confused, and stunned in the best way possible. Nils, upon the throne, sang with the zeal of a satanic David Byrne. Grace and Ace moved like marionettes. The sound was warped through pedals and vocal compressors bouncing off the walls of the hall. 

I was unsure when the songs started, and when the songs ended. Perhaps this was their intention. I thought the set was ending when Ace chugged a half gallon of whole milk. I thought I had seen it all. Yet, they trudged along through about fifteen minutes of music. 

Maybe it was the alignment of my 5mg rosy edible with the Ogre oddities presented before me, but I left feeling a weird sense of enlightenment. I walked over to the merch table and purchased a CD for $5. I handed Ace a ten, and told him to buy himself a drink with the rest. Preferably something other than milk.