I’m a sucker for a well executed gimmick. I always have been. (See: my love for Peelander-Z.)



I’m even more of a sucker for an underdog. I think most red eyed agitators are. (See: my heartbreaking obsession with the Denver Broncos for most of the ’80s.)



This week, in both Olympia and Tacoma, there’s a band heading up from Portland — intent on unleashing the rock — that embodies both aforementioned weaknesses of mine.

Qwong — led by guitarist John Wayne Newton — are like the Knack meets the Offspring meets the demented mind of a 17-year-old sci-fi geek. Matching guitar led, sugar and crunch rock — the kind that makes you smile, not wallow — with a space travel bent (not to mention the avid suspension of disbelief) Qwong is a bizarre package that defies most labels. Even in an eclectic town like Portland, which Qwong calls home, Newton and his fellow bandmates, bassist Vilmos and drummer Jack Mackerel, are probably in a league of their own. According to Qwong propaganda:



“The rock and roll superfriends of Qwong were assembled to do the bidding of extraterrestrial impresario Don Qwong. At an imposing stature of thirty-two 32nds of an inch tall, Don Qwong destroyed his home planet with the ferocity of his rock. Visited by Don in the summer of ‘04, John Wayne Newton was given a simple command: Rock this planet.”



Got it?



This Saturday, March 28 Qwong will take that mission of rock to Bob’s Java Jive in Tacoma, delivering a blistering to the beer drinking masses not likely to be forgotten.

Then, on Sunday — the so called Sabbath — Qwong will travel south, to unleash a similar barrage on the rock and roll ears of Olympia.



If the mission is to rock the world, this weekend Qwong will be doing battle in the South Sound. May the best, man, err, band, err extraterrestrial impresario win.



“Someone once said — I believe it was Thoreau — that there is only one way to rock. While researchers have since invalidated this claim — there are in fact upwards of 13 known ways to rock identified in the universe — Qwong specializes in only one particular form, that which is loud, catchy, energetic, irreverent, and above all else fun,” says Newton. “For a trio, we are pretty pleased with the level of racket we can generate.”



(For those playing at home, John Wayne Newton probably isn’t his real name. Just a guess. Those at the Jive Saturday or Le Voyeur Sunday may remember his mug from the defunct Tacoma punk band the Racketeers — which kicked around this town between ’94-’00. Newton — if that’s what we’re calling him — called Tacoma home during the time.)



“My bandmates aren’t too familiar with Tacoma, so it will be fun to show them all the landmarks,” offers Newton. “This will definitely involve some Mike’s Deluxe sandwiches from MSM and possibly an impromptu show in the B&I parking lot as we kill time before the Voyeur show.”



Qwong, as I’m sure you’re picking up on, is a rare breed of band — one living in reality and beyond it. Sandwiches from MSM can be defined, but much of Qwong simply cannot.



And what’s up with all that Don Qwong madness mentioned earlier?



“Ah yes, Don Qwong. A classic tale of tragedy and redemption. Don is a one-inch-tall alien in a teeny white suit that took up residence in my Yamaha stereo receiver. Seems that he had destroyed his home planet with the ferocious magnitude of his rock,” explains Newton (or does he?). “Don traveled the universe searching for a new home and proceeded to unintentionally destroy countless extraterrestrial life forms in the same manner. He eventually took up residence on Earth after discovering that humans were just big enough to absorb the Rock Power without exploding. We are but humble human vessels — a collective conduit channeling Don’s vision in a form more accessible to the average earthling.



“The mission to rock this planet has turned out to be a little more daunting than expected. We’re on more of a zip code by zip code basis at this time.”



Qwong — the perfect mix of fact and fiction, absurdity and tangible indie pop skill … among other things.



Check out the madness when the band hits town this weekend.



[Bob’s Java Jive, with Brotherhood of the Black Squirrel, Saturday, March 28, 8 p.m., $5, 2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843]



[Le Voyeur, with the Modlins, You Yell You Kick, Sunday, March 29, 10 p.m., no cover, 404 E. Fourth Ave., Olympia, 360.943.5710]