When Portugal. The Man first arrived in the lower 48—they’re from the same town in Alaska that delivered to the world Sarah Palin, a place singer/guitarist John Gourley delicately describes as “conservative”—they came with a lot of enthusiasm and not much else. They had an especially mini minivan packed just shy of the roof with all their gear, and all five of them would sleep in the foot-tall gap between the equipment and the ceiling; your average no-frills coffin offers more elbow room. And they’d sell T-shirts. Well, they wouldn’t sell actual T-shirts because they didn’t have any; instead, they’d sell the act of silkscreening on whatever people happened to bring to the show. They took particular delight in screening their own designs on other bands’ shirts. (“Fucking awful—I’m sorry!”... More >>>