No Shame Presents: The Wilderness of Manitoba / Ghost Bees / Casey Mecija
The Garrison. Thursday, January 21, 2010.
Out on a Thursday night to check out this No Shame presentation at The Garrison. Nice to note some little signs of things "settling in" there. The famous blank red walls are now broken up a bit with some non-art — black, fabric-covered squares looking like Velvet Elvis paintings yet unborn. Plus, I noted a strip ad in eye's clubs page lending a sense of established permanence to the place and alerting the larger world a bit more to its existence.1
I arrived in a bit of a haze, heading over after a rather baffling film and spent my first few minutes there staring blankly off into space trying to sort it all out in my head, dizzy with idea of reincarnation or eternal return or the universal similarity of human experience. Or something like that, I think. Fortunately K. — a bit sad for having a connection for some Dinosaur Jr. tickets not come through — showed up and re-focused me on the present.
In a weird, back-to-back sets coincidence, the first artist of the night, Casey Mecija, was also the last I'd seen at the last show I'd been at. This time out, things were even more stripped down, with the bulk of the set being a truly solo affair, just Mecija with her guitar and kickdrum. Different enough to make it feel like I wasn't just getting the same set twice, and a nice chance to hear the new material again and let it sink in a bit more. She led off with two of the same new songs heard at the Daps show, and then was joined on a few songs by Jeff Debutte (from The Acorn) adding some sympathetic, understated guitar lines and backing vox for a couple more new ones. The night's chatty crowd was a bit of a bother during the set, although with the venue still filling up, it wasn't too bad at the start. A gap to change tunings amped up the chatter a bit, though, and from then it didn't really abate, even when Mecija launched into the much-loved "The Otherside".2 The set ended with another run through Nathan Lawr's "Barking at Your Door" — "I wish I'd written this one," Mecija told us.
Listen to a track from this set here.
Somewhat to my surprise, by the time that Ghost Bees were on stage, the place was packed. And folks were getting a little restless waiting for the set to start, not helped by a lengthy wait for the band to get everything plugged in and ready to go. Definitely a bit of a rough set-up day for the band — sometimes that just happens, but the slow start and frequent gaps between songs didn't help things along. Once things were underway, they started with one of those zither-y songs, filled with the close harmonies of twin sisters Sari and Romy Lightman accompanied by their uncanny looks directed at each other (implying "we're communicating telepathically!"). The band's effectiveness was being undermined by the loud music from the front room making its thumping presence felt over the delicate sounds on the stage, which seemed like a lack of care on the management's part towards the punters trying to watch the show.
Meanwhile, of all the gigs that I was expecting to see a steel drum solo, a Ghost Bees show might have been near the bottom. But there it was — an interesting idea, it was sort of played with a melancholy edge as a segue while the band's "secret" guests took the stage for a trio of songs. Although masked, John O'Regan would probably stand out in any crowd. The hooded keyboardist, meanwhile, might have remained shrouded in secrecy until beginning to sing — Katie Stelmanis' lovely, distinct voice quickly giving the game away. The four-piece played a slow, dirgeful tune that lumbered along a bit like a sleepy golem.3 The final song with the expanded lineup was a little more animated and showed the potential here, as the twins traded lines back and forth with Stelmanis and O'Regan, like an excerpt from some creepy opera.
But overall, I'd file the set under "not wholly successful experiment". Certainly the venue and crowd had something to do with the somewhat difficult reception this engendered in me, but part of the problem could also be gleaned when the twins came back out, unaccompanied, to play (as a slightly-unearned encore) their signature song "Sinai" ("You came tumbling and I was sorry") — which has a bit of something catchy to it, something you could hum to yourself afterwards, while the other material, well, not so much. I guess I'm glad that Ghost Bees are challenging themselves and their audience, but for myself, I need a bit more of a spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down.
Although the last time I saw the Wilderness of Manitoba I found them pleasant but not compelling I knew I'd be seeing them again for further evaluation. As K. found a chair to sit a bit between sets, I told her that this would probably be down her alley, what with it featuring banjo and curly-headed boys and all that. Tired, she stayed sitting down as the band emerged at about quarter after midnight, but had moved up to where I was standing after a couple songs, giving a nod of approval. The band's central elements remain in place — the rootsy sound backed with harmonies and singing bowls, but it did seem tightened up some over the past few months. Plus, the set included some new material, such as "St. Petersburg", "Orono Park" and "White Water", the latter featuring a very fine string intro from Stefan Banjevic. The new songs seem like a nice extension of their original burst of material. Of those, "Evening" still works pretty effectively, and showcases why no small number people are utterly convinced by this band.
But not everyone, I guess — the crowd was still chatty during this set. Less so than during Ghost Bees, but still enough to be a distraction. As for me, on our way over to the bus stop after, I admitted to K. that there's still something about the band that keeps me from totally buying in. She promptly told me I was crazy and wrong, so take that under advisement. Still, I would yet like to hear the band in a fully sympathetic environment.
Listen to a track from this set here.
In the final analysis, this show was... okay. Maybe it was just in the wrong venue — the same bands playing at the Music Gallery, say, or Holy Oak would probably have gone over much better. It does make one wonder — what can the Garrison do to facilitate quieter shows? It's mildly amusing that in a venue that was quickly becoming famous for overwhelming volume that the bands were getting overwhelmed by crowd noise. But it's probably a good thing that bands playing quieter music didn't just have the volume knob cranked up — which'd probably just lead to people talking louder anyways. The biggest part comes from the atmosphere and culture being created at The Garrison. Is this just going to be a — ugh — hipster hangout, or is this going to be a place where people come to listen to music? I wonder what would happen if, for a show like this, the venue simply set up a few rows of chairs in front of the stage — would that be enough to get people to settle down and pay attention?4
Regardless, kudos to No Shame champion Lauren Schreiber, who packed the place out on a Thursday night with home-grown talent. I bet there were touring acts with higher profiles passing through town this same week playing to less crowded rooms, so it's worth celebrating what was going on here. The next step is being able to hear it as well.
1 The admirably minimalist website, however, could use a slightly sharper eye at the controls, this show being listed as the sic-inducing "Wilderness of Manaitoba + Ghost Bees + Casey Macida".
2 In a more just world, there's be a roadie at the ready to hand Mecija a different guitar for a seamless transition.
3 It was, however, a chance to see that O'Regan unleasing his inner Wyrd Visions, showing off some hitherto undemonstrated guitar skills in unfurling melancholy minor key folk lays.
4 My first idea — roving docents with cattle prods issuing escalating warnings to the yapping folks — is, admittedly, probably a non-starter.
Posts
amen
ReplyDelete