Ah, music festivals. Home of the raver-boots-and-bikini combo, the infinite porta-potty line, and the tiny speck of a band making murky gurgles on a distant stage. Why bother, right?

Portland Oregon’s Stumpfest, though, has a different reputation. It is said to be less of a festival and more of a gathering of friends and neighbors in the Pacific Northwest music scene (see Ghost Cult’s interview with Stumpfest founder and namesake, Rynne Stump, here for more on that). More importantly, it is held indoors at Mississippi Studios, a compact venue in North Portland known for its quality sound engineering—no murky gurgles here.

So with that rep in mind, I put my festival bias aside and journeyed to Mississippi Studios for the first of Stumpfest’s three nights. Though the fest as a whole was heavy on the heavy—hometown beer-metal heroes Red Fang headlined Friday night and Eugene doom gods Yob closed out the fest Saturday—Thursday’s line-up was an eclectic collection of the fest’s non-metal acts headlined by post-rock genre chameleons, Trans Am.

By the time I parked and acquired a golden pint of Portland’s finest export, opener Hot Victory had already occupied the stage with their unusual setup: dual drum kits arranged side-by-side with a shared hi-hat and a hexagonal drum trigger mounted high on a stand between them. A projection screen showing geometric animations and some hot-blue floor lights completed the setup and gave the stage a laser tag aesthetic. Hot Victory, indeed.

Garbed in black cut-off tees, the two members of Hot Victory, Caitlin Love and Ben Stoller, pounded out bombastic percussion-centric instrumental music that laced sci-fi synths and the occasional sample in with relentless tag-team drumming. If there is an alternate Tron-type universe built of neon and whirring things, Hot Victory would most certainly be worshipped there as Gods. In this universe, the early bird crowd was appreciative, bobbing their heads vigorously and banging them to the occasional blast beat.

Soon after Hot Victory’s intergalactic drum rig was cleared from the stage a mysterious figure emerged cloaked in a shimmering blue and gold robe and sporting face paint reminiscent of Aladdin Sane-era Bowie. Drab Majesty (Incan Abraham’s Andrew Clinco playing under the stage name of Deb Demure) had arrived from Los Angeles to pluck the darkwave arpeggios of sadness. Armed only with a cherry red strat—played left handed and upside down, Hendrix style—and a briefcase full of bass and drum backing tracks, Demure made an earnest go of summoning the spirit of Ian Curtis with gloomy atmospheric pop. But she seemed rattled by problems with the stage monitors and never quite lived up to the promise of her costume, ultimately losing much of the crowd despite the presence of some enthusiastic dancers in the front.

The crowd came back in force, though, for Life Coach, the collaboration between Trans Am guitarist Phil Manley and former Mars Volta/current Queens of the Stone Age drummer, Jon Theodore. The balcony was full. The floor was full. There was a full-screen projection of a mountain top sunrise behind them, and Life Coach laid into their krautrock inspired prog jams with an equal amount of inspirational vigor.

Jon Theodore (voted twenty-third greatest alternative drummer of all time in a made up list by Spin, for whatever that’s worth) is one of those drummers that, witnessed up close, can completely mesmerize you. He sweats; he sways and nods; he does that thing where you mouth the sounds as you make them, like Thelonius Monk at the keys. Theodore’s captivating skin work propelled Manley’s long EBow notes and vocal accents along easily, and their brief half hour set was over before you could you so much as say krautrock inspired prog jams.

Federation X then took the stage like the grizzled rock and roll veterans they are, joined by Hozoji Margullis of Helms Alee on bass. According to one crowd member, this was Margullis’ first time appearing with the group, but that was not apparent in their playing; her dirty, fuzzed-out bass sound blended well with Ben Wildenhaus’ and Bill Badgleys’ chugging SG attack. Drummer Beau Boyd’s unruly white mane and wild eyes give him an uncanny resemblance to Doc Brown from Back to the Future, and headded that extra dash of weird energy every band needs from the back row. Federation X played though several cuts off their 2013 album, We Do What We Must (Molasses Manifesto/Recess), including standout tracks ‘Maybe We’ll Die Young’ and ‘So Tired’, before calling it quits around midnight.

After some kind words by Rynne Stump, Trans Am began a raucous set of funky electro-rock that, encore included, would run until 1:30 am. Trans Am typically get lumped into the prog rock category, but with their lighthearted approach to genre and their goofy live presence they have more in common with Devo than they do the somber noodlings of Tortoise. Phil Manley sported a sleeveless orange prison jumpsuit for his second appearance of the night, and drummer Sebastian Thomson rocked a beefy chain. Lanky frontman Nathan Means sang into a vocoder for the entire set and led the band through a whiplash tour of styles that culminated in crossed axes in the middle of the stage at the end of the night.

For the first night at least, Stumpfest had lived up to its reputation as an anti-festival festival. The bands played like they meant it and stuck around to watch each other’s sets, and people responded to the proximity and quality of the music in ways you don’t see at outdoor mega-fests. Highly recommended for anyone that wants to check in on the Portland scene and hear music, not see a stage.

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JARED CHRISTENSON