Music
Press
Patterns has yet to release a full-length album. This is unfortunate considering how incredibly delightful the Portland-based trio’s Wading Through Grass EP is, but hey—something is better than nothing, right? Each of the five tracks that compose the EP encompasses the enchanting grittiness of lo-fi with indelible pop hooks. Ricci Swift’s soft vocals sail atop simple guitar chords, drum beats and poppy keyboard riffs, with the occasional handclaps (“Wading Through Grass”) and violin accompaniment (“The Longest Mile”). If this is just a teaser of what Patterns has to offer, I can’t wait to hear the rest. - Willamette Week
For two years, local guitar-pop band Patterns couldn’t find a consistent lineup. So, looking for a new drummer last month, it resorted to something that rarely works: Craigslist.
“He actually found us,” Patterns singer and guitarist Ricci Swift says about the addition of ex-Book of Maps drummer Ryan Northrop. “You usually turn up a lot of weirdos, but I think we got lucky.”
Northrop is joining the band at just the right time. Though kicking around the local scene since 2007, the group—now a quartet rounded out by multi-instrumentalists Shoki Tanabe and Patrick McBrien—is finally readying its debut record. Recorded in July with Point Juncture, WA’s Skyler Norwood at his Miracle Lake studio, the self-titled album offers 10 songs of eclectic, rushing pop, inspired by everyone from Pavement to Ornette Coleman.
“I always felt that we were a little more rock than a lot of the softer groups and a little more poppy than the weirder groups,” says Swift, 24. “Until recently I’ve always felt self-conscious about that. But now that people are able to see us in a more cohesive manner I think it makes more sense.”
Though the reconfigured lineup just played its first show 10 days ago, Swift, Tanabe and McBrien all attended South Salem High School together. The other thread running through each Patterns song is a strong, unwavering commitment to melody. Whether tackling classic jangle pop in “Wading Through Grass”; a sparse, drum machine-and-organ ballad like “Green Eyes”; or the blistering dual guitar assault of “Springtime Come,” each song is rooted in Swift’s knack for a perfectly catchy pop hook. He sings in a sweet, Anglo-tinted voice, and the band’s sound jumps from decades of rock tradition, taking elements of British groups like the Kinks and Blur and combining it with Northwest staples (Hazel, Pond, Built to Spill) the trio used to commute from Salem to see.
For now, Patterns is trying to build up its local legacy by playing songs written over a year ago. “When we play it’s like we’re doing adaptations of these songs that are only old to us,” Swift says. “It’s fun doing these alterations before anybody has a chance to hear what’s actually been documented. Even our new drummer.” - Willamette Week - Feb 28th, 2009
"Patterns opened up the gig, real nice cats I got to meet earlier in the day, very nice and so kind of them to share the stage w/us." - www.hootpage.com
Whether it's advertising axioms (Got Milk?), lyrics by Rupert Holmes (Got Pina Coladas?), or gum to the bottom of your shoes at the Hawthorne Theatre (Got Peanut Butter?), some things just stick well. Musical friendships are no exception: Take Ricci Swift and Shoki of Portland's Patterns, friends who forged a musical connection in high school only to put their aspirations on hiatus for several years due to, well, life. With several line-up shifts and name changes (Oui, to The Swift Fox Guild, to the Dixon Swift Fox) at least that's what we make of the group's really, really confusing bio) it seems that inconsistency was once a pattern for Patterns. Let's hope the current lineup sticks together and continues to put forth collected, mature indie pop.
"Spades" has got nearly every component that a tight pop song requires: Its tactfully muffled guitar layers resist indie-pop homogeneity, while its gorgeously minimalistic keys keep it accessible. Add on Ricci Swift's anglo-tinged vocals, and pleasantly unpredictable chord changes, and you've got something of an instant classic: Like Steve Kilbey of the Church backed by Stereolab. - Local Cut
Patterns lead singer, Ricci Swift has a knack for similar, Anglo-infused songwriting-both in the way he stretches out the middle syllable of the first line in "Wading Through Grass" or in the ringing guitars, clean melody and English keys that underscore each track on the band's killer five-song EP. - Willamette Week
Come discover why your friends south of the (state) border harbor an abiding, cult-like love for Patterns (or anything frontman Ricci Swift touches in general, for that matter.) The trio shines brightest in intimate venues, though their soulful layering of organs, driving bass and clap-along refrains would easily fill much larger spaces. - Seattle Weekly
We'd never heard Patterns before, but they won us over. As solid a three piece as we've seen, they also write damn good songs that are catchy as hell. Sometimes bordering on a Luna-esque quietness, sometimes kicking up the distortion to rock your face off. - tensecondbuzz.com
Patterns vocalist Ricci Swift's smooth tenor and catchy hooks make the Portland foursome's jittery pop-rock easy on the ears, and hard not to like. Patterns' tracks cover a lot of ground on the musical spectrum, ranging from speedy, guitar-driven jams to light, jaunty melodies. - Willamette Week 03/25/2009
Patterns is the new project from Ricci Swift and Jesse Fox , former members of the now-defunct Oui, Mouton. Patterns has a bit more throttle than the carefree glowing pop of Oui, Mouton, but just as much melodicism. - Portland Mercury
Those familiar with previous incarnations of Swift’s sound will find that Patterns packs an extra punch while still maintaining its delightful, sunny melody. Louder than expected guitar solos and violent drumming create the perfect foil to Swift’s calm and collected crooning. - livepdx.com
Discography
Wading Through Grass (single) - Released May 2nd, 2008 on Anchor Chain Records
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Bio
Things change, for good or ill, but patterns remain. The roads we travel take sudden
turns and direct us toward unforeseen places, but we’re always pointed forward. Nature is an
infinite grid upon which all life is in constant motion. What it this strange, preternatural quality
of patterns in the world?
One day in 2001, in Salem, Oregon, I broke a guitar string. The guitar upon which the
string was strung was a candy-apple red Fender Squire, a possession of someone I knew as Ricci,
whose wrath I had come to understand was as powerful and as broad as the Pacific Ocean. In
order to forgo any potential jeopardy I might have been in, I placed a dollar bill on the guitar and
left it to be found. A week later, a knock came rapping on my door. I recognized my guest im-
mediately; it was the candy-apple red Fender Squire, intact with all six strings. It was being held
at the neck by a dark, brooding figure, clad in polyester trousers and V-neck sweater. His face
was obscured by hair, his voice was hushed and low, and he spoke with a standard American ac-
cent - It was Ricci. “You play guitar?” He asked. “Yes,” I replied, “I do.” He then took my hand,
and, shaking it vigorously, suggested we immediately begin playing music together.
So we did, playing simple arrangements of Bela Bartok sonatas at first, then moving on
to Franz Liszt. Our few attempts at playing live were mediocre at best, until a young man and
fellow sensational relativist called Pat happened by one show and asked if we needed any man-
dolin players. “Yes,” I said, “we do.” So we became a three-piece.
Pat’s remarkable gift of quiet vetting lead to his suggestion that we start playing pop mu-
sic, “with the aesthetic charm of a broken window,” said Pat. It was clear that he was right, and
so shattered pop music we played, right on through 2008. But windows being broken by guitars
is only sometimes productive as percussion, so we saw it fit to seek a drummer. Luckily, our
window repairman’s cousin’s nephew, called Ryan from Idaho, was a drummer with a certain
flair for breaking sticks. We liked him almost instantaneously. We asked him to please play like
shattered glass, which he understood exceedingly well. We felt physical and spiritual alignment
as four, and so we’ve stayed - Ricci, Pat, Ryan, and myself, Shoki.
We are not rock-and-rollers. We are called Patterns, and we make music together.
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