Ogre isn’t aiming to be defined. You could call the three-piece’s sound noise rock, maybe even hardcore—two basses jabbing through a cacophony of pedals and amps, ejecting as razor sharp, with drums erupting in a kind of 360-degree projectile fury. But Ogre isn’t really crafting genre-based songs; they’re more interested in pure sonics, in building a world—one with a somewhat chaotic sound.
-Willamette Week
Before Ogre plays a note, their amplifiers hiss like digital snakes waiting to strike. Ogre is Ace (bass), Grace (bass), and Nils (drums). We could tell you that Ogre uses two basses, three vocal mics, a synthesizer, a few duffel bags worth of guitar pedals, and a drum kit, but that would do their aural onslaught a disservice. Ogre is more than the sum of their decimated parts. Ogre is waiting to strike.
- Stumpgrown
Gentle as a Ditch Witch and soft as a toenail, Portland’s OGRE exists in the liminal space left just behind the exhaust of a locomotive and just ahead of the 6th Great Extinction. Dabbling in noise rock, experimental punk, motorik psych and shoegaze, OGRE has been agitating Portland crowds in their three year tenure enough to make them one of the hottest shows in the city. Mixing mad science, dystopian nihilism and wildebeest stage antics, the group leaves a sour wake of sweat and milk that you can’t help but take a whiff of.
Drummer Nils Niswonger moved to town from Santa Cruz in 2021 and put up a flyer outside of Portland staple Music Millenium, citing Lightning Bolt and Osees as influences. Lead bassist Ace Jennings answered the call and the first meeting yielded instant results, spawning a 4-dimensional frenzy of hairbrained epics that only a 2-piece could pull off - that is, until rhythm bassist Grace Crane joined the fold. Crane’s addition simultaneously untethered Jennings and grounded Niswonger, allowing the madness to flourish and inspiriting even the lamest of Portland crowds. Seamlessly and instantly OGRE became a three-headed dog.
Jennings and Niswonger share the lead vocal duties, the former occupying the role a megachurch pastor exorcising his constituents, and the latter as a bonzer mix of David Byrne and ODB. In between the drums and vocals exist 2 basses, one doing everything a bass can’t do and one doing everything the bass should do. The three lock into alt rhythms that drive crowds up a wall, and the group’s tendencies to take a walk among the rafters or chug gallons of milk in the middle of a circle pit only add fuel to the fire.
Even more apparent than the monumental stacks of Sunn amps, primal grooves and ominous red “O’s” spotting the room is the band’s pure dedication to creativity and community. Fans know that going to an Ogre show means they’re in for something special that can be shared with a room of people of any size. Their rise from dive bar openers to primetime headliners is a testament to that. Their legend and lore is both complete fabrication and entirely earned. As Jennings often puts it, “anyone who attends an OGRE show is an honorary member of OGRE - the only way to leave OGRE is by joining them on stage”. Many have joined, few have left.
-Ben Windheim