Wavelength 511 (feat. Mean Red Spiders / Ben Gunning / Vanessa's Entire Heart / Willow Rutherford)
The Garrison, Thursday, December 2, 2010.
On a cold night, headed down from work and got to The Garrison a titch earlier than expected. That's the downside of winter gigs — when it's a cold night out, it's a lot harder to kill time. So I ended up in the venue indecently early, passing through The Garrison's front doors just as Duncan "Doc Pickles" MacDonell was flinging open the curtains to the back room. Caught the end of Willow Rutherford, the night's first act, soundchecking. Vribi, her Finnish violin player, was having microphone problems, so as the sound tech switched cables, the pair stayed on stage and amused each other, playing little bits back and forth, balancing on one leg and so forth.
After Doc Pickles' characteristic intro, Rutherford re-emerged in a striped shirt — with her accordion, she just needed a baguette tucked under her arm to really connote "Paris!". And that would be a propos, I guess, given the romantic café music the duo played. On a stage loaded with Mean Red Spiders' gear, the pair were clearly having a blast playing with each other — watching, holding a note a little long — as if the whole point of the gig was their own amusement. The songs were mostly straightforward sprightly ditties, though Rutherford managed to slip in an occasional off-colour lyric under it all.
It worked well in the mostly attentive, quiet-ish room, with a few rambunctious types on hand willing to sing along — or wail along to mournful lines like "throw me an anchor". Bantering with the crowd, Rutherford showed a quick wit and off-kilter sensibility to go with a good voice, and some nice music. I enjoyed it, though it's not the sort of thing I'd go out of my way for. Your mileage may depend of your appetite for preciousness.
An album launch from one of the bands who had famously played at the very first-ever Wavelength show would be a major event, one would think. But as Mean Red Spiders took the stage, it was to a pretty thin crowd. Similar to a lot of good old-fashioned Sunday night Wavelengths, probably, but I was looking around and wondering: "is this what fourteen years and being fundamental to the scene gets you?"
I've mused a bit on the existential predicament that MRS is up against before — doing their foundational work in the pre-internet era, for one thing, and cursed (as it were) by still being a working group, lacking the romance of absence to create the aura of legend. And generally not given the credit they deserve, seeing how the shoegaze-y torch they've held high has gone from unfashionably marginal to terrifically au courant. Which is to say: if some unheralded group of twenty-year-olds from a fashionable zip code had released any of the band's albums right now, they'd be heaped with visionary praise.
That would apply equally to I Am the Sea, the band's long-gestating fourth disc being released on this night. After the full-on shards-of-noise attack that I'd witnessed in the band's live show, I was mildly surprised at the textured restraint that the album brings. But that puts it right in line with the rest of their recorded output. Perhaps fitting, then, that for this album-celebrating show, the band was less aggressive-sounding than when I'd seen 'em before. There was more of a low thrum underlying the sound than an explosive roar, as if they'd dimmed their ghostlight for the evening, putting Lisa Nighswander's vox more prominently in the mix.
The band launched right into the title cut of the new one, sax wailing away, but weren't afraid to put the new songs up against their older material. In fact, there was a three-song jaunt back to their '98 debut Places You Call Home for "Necktie", "Shiny Skin" and the slow whoosh of the title cut. Further on in the set, the band took the sonic chaos down even further for the sing-song lullaby lilt of "When Will We See You Again" and the nearly tropical groove of "I Just Feel Fine", a definite highlight of the set, drifting along to a mellow flute. The set finished with one last new one in "Somethings". I wasn't feeling physically shaken like I had been the previous couple times I'd seen the band, but I'm not one to complain when a band has enough range in their sound to bring a different vibe.
Within a certain limited terrain — call it the Wavelength worldview, maybe — Mean Red Spiders are a key part of our cultural history. But they're sure as hell not a museum piece or a nostalgia act — they're making music that deserves an audience.1
Listen to a couple tracks from this set — something from the new one here, and a classic cut here.
Doc Pickles, in his mutable introductions, always brings a sense of joyful discovery that he's here to be delighted by whatever's going to happen — his contagiously open-hearted anticipation is a formidable weapon. But this time, he was visibly excited to be presenting Vanessa's Entire Heart. This solo project is the bandonym of Vanessa Hanson (formerly of Ptarmigan) of whom the host pronounced, "if I drank bourbon — and enjoyed it — this is what her voice would sound like."
Added to Hanson's voice was a combination of resonator guitar, looping pedal, folk songs and piercing feedback — a winning mix of, ahem, entirely heartfelt songs with occasionally harsh squealing busts. This recast the songs from something as humble and unassuming as the person delivering them to something much more forcefully filling the room. In that vein, "Psychopath" was a highlight, perhaps most adroitly transforming what could have been a quiet, internal song into one laden with shards of howling feedback. "Girl on the Moon" used a bow to add a layer of ringing metallic dissonance to the proceedings. But regardless of the delivery — and not every song was draped in clamour — Hanson's underlying sensibility is pretty straightforward, as evidenced by an attack on Echo & The Bunnymen's "The Killing Moon" to close things out.
Given the oil-and-water mix of voice and guitar, this might be something of a like-it-or-hate it proposition. I found it quite agreeable — even if I wasn't whooping out my appreciation as Doc Pickles was.
Listen to a track from this set here.
The hour growing late between bands, there was a pretty empty room when you discounted musicians and staff. A lot of the shows that Wavelength are doing these days have a bit more of a "special event" vibe, but I'm glad they're still programming straight-up showcases like they used to. Getting started around ten to one, Ben Gunning might not have been playing to much of a crowd, but I was impressed by the company he was keeping on stage. I was admittedly never much of a fan of Local Rabbits, his old band — and as such I'd never looked into his more recent solo material. But as I saw Allie Hughes, Alana Stuart and Felicity Williams — three of the city's finer voices — taking the stage as backing vocalists I was paying attention. There was more solid talent besides that, with Gunning's vox and nimble guitar work backed by bass, drums and Michael Davidson on vibes. And also Joseph Shabason — more recently seen lending his smooth sax tones to the recent Destroyer album and tour.
With the sax and vibes and those backing vox, the music was, unsurprisingly, on the smooth side. You could call this "yacht rock" and be also quite literally correct, given that Gunning's album Mal de Mer is a song cycle told from the perspective of a disaffected employee on a cruise ship. Gunning's vox were soulful but also somewhat clenched, delivered with a Fagan-esque yalp — one more factor bringing the mighty Steely Dan to mind as a comparison here.2
It was, as Gunning noted on introducing the title track, "a lot of mid-tempo," so your reaction to the whole enterprise would strongly depend on your tolerance for that sort of thing. But there's no denying that Gunning has staked out one little sonic patch of terrain and was tending it with rigour. Besides material from Mal de Mer, the band played a new song called "Destructive"3 and visited Gunning's older Beigy Blur album for the likeable "Why Can't I Leave Myself at Home?". The set finished with "Take the Hook", but Doc Pickles whipped up the crowd enough to merit an encore with "Drinks", which listed back and forth a bit with end-of-set choppiness, but made it back into port.
Listen to a track from this set here.
1 And in case I hadn't put it directly enough: I Am the Sea is a really strong album that does their catalogue proud. Next time you're at Soundscapes, you should pick yourself up a copy.
2 In fact, given the mood and instrumentation they crew was working with, it was a shame they didn't tackle a cover of The Fez.
3 This song is, in fact, now available on a 7" that's getting a release party this Saturday (April 23, 2011) at The Drake. Show up early (9:00 sharp) to catch an opening set from Mantler.
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