Gig: Julie Doiron

Julie Doiron / Herman Dune / Shotgun Jimmie

Lee's Palace. Tuesday, October 27, 2009.

I came to this show with a bit of apprehension — after all, the last time I saw Julie Doiron was so good, I wondered it was was tempting fate to hope for something like that again. I know I've been burned in the past, going to see artists twice while touring the same album and delivering essentially the same show, which never seems as good the second time around. Long story short, holy moley am I glad I didn't skip this one. Pardon the strong language.

Hitting the stage at 8:30 for an early start to the night was Shotgun Jimmie, a late addition to the bill. The name was vaguely familiar, probably from his previous collaborative effort Shotgun & Jaybird. Tonight he was playing electric guit alongside drummer Jay Baird. With a dry wit, red shirt and moustache he genially cranked out a series of slightly ramshackle tunes, sounding like a stripped-down, rockist Pavement. The songs were generally catchy, though there were a few lyrical groaners ("life is impossible/but it's also a popsicle"), but his most winning feature was his good stage presence and goofy banter — and regardless of a song's sentiments, he never hesitated to end on a "cha cha cha". A sparse crowd on the dance floor¹ was joined by Ms. Doiron herself for a good chunk of the set, who watched with a smile, mouthing the words to the songs.

Seizing the chance to make a joke at the headliner's expense, Jimmie interrupted a rambling story between songs, saying, "it's just 'cause it's a Julie Doiron show I thought maybe I should just talk awkwardly for a while in the middle of my set — her fans seem to go for that kind of thing." Towards the end, the two musicians switched places, and Jesse Baird joined in on bass to back Jay Baird's lead vox for a nice number with a lonely country barroom feel. A thirty-five minute set was the first sign that the bands would be serving out healthy portions on this night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

There'd been a burst of chatter about Herman Dune when they'd passed through earlier this year for CMW, but other than having read somewhere that both musicians had taken "Herman Dune" as their surname, Ramones-style, I didn't really know anything about them.² David-Ivar Herman Dune took the stage kitted out with beard, trilby and tie, playing the first two songs solo, featuring gentle fingerpicked folk guitar, a richly expressive voice with an engaging vocal manner, and lyrics sometimes flowing out in near stream-of-consciousness torrents. At some points early Leonard Cohen came to mind. Unsurprisingly, the drums, supplied by Néman Herman Dune, juiced things up some, the energy also switching the guit over to energetic rock rhythms, keeping things generally moving at a pick-me-up pace. The pair's affectations and general easy-going-ness were sometimes at odds with the music, which had a rigourous seriousness — and occasional sadness — underneath it.³ "On a Saturday", one definite winner, had a bouncy beat attached to its yearning lyrics and Sterling Morrison guitar riffing. "I'd Rather Walk Than Run"⁴ was also a winner. Julie Doiron came out to add some backing vox to "Good For No One". It was an extended set for an opener, running about fifty-five minutes, but it felt earned, and I would say by the end I was a fan.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Julie Doiron's set began with an almost swaggering intro, a slow, bluesy fanfare that lasted a minute-and-a-half before segueing into "Consolation Prize", which also featured a classic rockin' bridge. And soon, the first "you know that one, right?" aimed at her bandmates as she launched into "Yer Kids". Unlike last time around, when Doiron was backed by Fred Squire and Rick White — with whom she'd recorded I Can Wonder What You Did With Your Day, this time 'round she was supported by Jesse Baird (drums) and Jay Baird (bass).

It's hard not to mention pretty much every song as a highlight: say, an explosive "Le Piano" ("That's the fastest we ever played it!" Doiron exclaimed with a sort of surprised delight at the end) or "Spill Yer Lungs" with thundering drums⁵ — I could go on. Will Kidman of the Constantines dropped in for some extra guit on "Borrowed Minivans", and then, stayed for a showstopper to top all previous showstoppers — a powerhouse version of "The Wrong Guy" that incorporated "No More" in its middle. Um, yow.

"I guess I'll do one or two by myself," Doiron said as the band headed off, soliciting requests from the crowd. "One or two" became six, including "Elevator Show", "Sweeter" and "Me And My Friend". Plus a pretty new one that had the feel of a classic folk song: "warmed by the sun and cooled by the wind/ the water sings to me". Miraculously, the crowd was pretty quiet throughout the solo segment, making it a pretty exquisite time.

And then, almost apologetic that she was still playing, the band came back out, joined by Shotgun Jimmie on guit for a closing suite, starting with "I Left Town"⁶ and then a rollicking run through a cover of The Dinner is Ruined's lullaby-esque "Sleep Little Willie". The final, final song ended the night as it began, in a Crazy Horse-like blast of ragged glory, "Some Blues" starting with a two minute long instrumental build, and the whole the song stretching more than nine minutes.

So, pretty incredible stuff, and a fairly different experience from back in March. Had I not been to that one, I might well have called this the show of the year. Either way. One to look back on fondly.

Two songs from this one — listen to a solo track and a rockin' band number here.

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¹ Oh, by the way, at some point since the last time I'd been to Lee's there's been more renovations afoot, with the elements of seemed to be a new sound system in place. The old stacks at the side of the stage have been replaced by new speakers, those contemporary-looking slightly curving units that hang from the ceiling. This has actually opened up the stage a little bit, unblocking the view from the close corners of the room.

² Although the name thing might seem a little precious, at least they've dropped the umlaut that used to be in "Düne".

³ Not that all of the lyrical concerns were deadly serious — one song imagined what a superhero would say to his girlfriend when revealing his secret identity. But even that wasn't played for laughs so much as presented as thinking through a potential problem.

⁴ Not to be confused with the also-played "Walk Don't Run", wherein David-Ivar cranked up his amp for some extended serious rockin' out.

⁵ In fact, on a couple occasions, Baird's drumming was so powerful that his cymbal mic was knocked askew from his insistent pummelling.

⁶ "Just C and F," she told Jimmie, and some of the crowd up front started chanting, "C to F! C to F!" Jimmie pulled off a credible solo and correctly guessed that the song would end on G.