Planet Creature (The Two Koreas / Terror Lake / Persian Rugs)
The Piston. Friday, September 17, 2010.
In an epic burst of bad streetcar luck, the night got off to a lousy start. By the time I straggled my way over to Ossington for my pre-gig pho, I was a good chunk late on my dinner plans. So once I got there, I decided I just wasn't going to be in a hurry for the rest of the night. Though I have a certain rigourous dedication to getting to places to catch the bands at the bottom of the bill, sometimes you just have to take a deep breath and relax and count on the fact that you'll have another chance to see 'em again. Having good company and tasty, tasty pho made it easy to recalibrate and accept that for the gig I'd get there when I got there.
And anyways, you can usually count on a gig to start late, so despite thinking I'd miss 'em entirely, I still managed to catch the last few songs from Persian Rugs. Which was lucky as I was definitely interested in checking this new-ish combo out. In the big family tree chart that we will someday make of beloved local bands, Persian Rugs would be one generation down in the lineage from The Airfields and The Diableros — who will be colour-coded in the chart in such a way to designate beloved-and-missed groups now gone. The face I most recognized was guitarist Ian Jackson, although I have seen Ali Sunderji playing before as well.
The winning surprise here was keyboardist Kaye Hamilton, whose textures tied the music together. Plus, in a band employing a bit of a pass-the-mic approach to vocals, she provided the top contenders here, including the lovely "Always All".1 With a textured, slightly dreamy vibe informing the best of their material, the band exhibited a very argyle sort of sound, just like Jackson's sweater. I assume he was wearing it to reinforce just this sort of association, as it was damnably hot in the room. That said, they could rock out a bit too, throwing in a cover of Television Personalities' "Part Time Punks". I was definitely glad to have gotten a quick taste of the band, and looking forward to more.2
Listen to a track from this set here.
Between sets, I had a chance to properly take a gander at the venue. On Bloor beside the big Long & McQuade store in the spot formerly occupied by the Concord Café, The Piston is a comfortable space, split into two parts with the bar (giving the feeling of a reasonably cosy local) up front and the venue in the back, all in a fairly long, narrow alignment. That layout means that, similar to, perhaps, The Rivoli, there can be a bit of a bottleneck when passing into the back space, especially if there's a crowd intent on hanging around at the back of the room, but it opens into a roomier zone in front of the low stage, with a few seats along the walls. All told, a decent space for a show like this.
It hadn't been so long since I'd seen Terror Lake, so I was curious to see if I'd be getting a "more of the same"-type show. But as "Junebug"'s count-in3 led to the driving surf beat, the pleasing rush of the band's sound pushed any worries out of my mind. And there's enough live electricity give-and-take in the two-guitar attack that the songs don't get to sounding too rote or predictable. As it was, the setlist was also mixed up a bit, though there was the same buildup to the more deliberate "Redskin Panic" toward the end. The sound (with Pete Carmichael behind the board) was mostly sharp throughout the night, but especially during this set, with both guitars crisp and distinct in the mix, filling the room nicely without being too loud.4 Meanwhile, the band was as eager as the rest of the crowd to hear Planet Creature, so they kept their set to a succinct six songs.
Listen to a track from this set here.
The Piston's stage looked a little crowded with the five bodies of The Two Koreas, who played a set scattered with material from their forthcoming third full-length, Science Island.5 Although the sound was a little mushy for them at first, the band mostly keept things bouncing along with their avant-new-wave-boogie-insecurity anthems. As always, vocalist/critic Stuart Berman was out to entertain his bandmates and the crowd, his antics, as always, exploring the tension between planned showmanship and improvised goofing. Here, for example, after falling to the stage at the end of the first part of "Retarded Architect", he took care to dramatically twitch a bit before springing to his feet to resume the song.
As I think I've suggested before, I'm never sure if these well-read theoreticians are trying to deconstruct rock'n'roll as they make it or if they live in a realm of particularly rich in-jokes that they constantly deploy to amuse each other. Or even if they just like to leave weird traces in their wake to see if anyone will pick up on them — here, for whatever reason, the band's setlist was written on Manolo Blahnik stationary: is this some sort of jape about rockstar conspicuous consumption? Do they just like wearing Manolos? Well, anyways, a few years ago, I wouldn't have really said that The Two Koreas were a band you could go and dance to and have a fun time — but now they are, and we're better for it. Any metatextural flourishes you happen to pick up on are just a bonus.
Listen to a track from this set here.
And after that, a long-coming moment in the spotlight for Planet Creature, celebrating the release of their first EP. The well-recorded Pigeon is a nice demonstration of where the band's at, showing their different musical sides and including a couple real aces. Their set pulled from that, but also the rest of the stock of songs they're building up.
Besides having a recording to boast about, the band has become increasingly solid on stage, with their vocal arrangements starting to become a real strength. There was good energy in the galloping guitar line of "Ramona", and it didn't take long for a dance party vibe to prevail on the floor, with Optical Sounds compadre Lee Brochu (of The Hoa Hoa's) leading the way. There's an interesting range in their sound, from the tougher-tinged garage stuff ("Loaded") to the glorious C-86ish harmonies of "Das Pirates", a cracker of a song that brings The Shop Assistants to mind. Playing that one, the band got a bit unstuck and out of sync — it looked like that was one spot where the bandmembers couldn't hear each other very well, but there was enough self-assurance and danceparty forward momentum to keep things going.
There were some other signs of the band's increased proficiency, too — they've got their instrument switcharounds down to a much smoother process than they used to be, and the whole set had a streamlined, steady pace. Closing out with the snappy "Tetris", where Kristina Koski's squiggly keybs sounded not unlike videogame background music, the efficient set went out with leave-'em-wanting-more good vibes.
Listen to a track from this set here.
1 The band is giving a demo of this song away at their bandcamp.
2 I have subsequently managed to catch a full set from the band, and will have more to say when I get caught up to that show, though you can check out a track from it here. Suffice it to say, this is a band worth checking out.
3 It's one of those small things, but drummer/vocalist Wendy Fowler might grace the band with some of the best count-ins in the the city, always delivered with an excited cheerful eagerness.
4 Although the room seems to have a decent sound system, its Achilles heel on this night was the stage sound — I'd later overhear a member of one of the bands commenting that there wasn't great sound on stage, and later I got the impression that the night's headliners were having some trouble hearing each other.
5 This is now slated for a March 1, 2011 release on Last Gang, so keep your eyes out for it. One can assume there'll be an album release party to go with that, as well.
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