NXNE 2011: Friday

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2011.

Friday, June 17, 2011. Featuring: Persian Rugs, The Young Things, The Vandelles, New/France, OFF!, Heavy Cream, No Joy

N.B.: I had written some contemporaneous notes about the festival here. This redux version comes with a few additional observations as I have now had time to properly go through my recordings.

8 p.m.: Persian Rugs @ The Silver Dollar Room

"Thanks for coming early. Or loading in, or whatever you're doing." It felt a little jarring to roll into the Silver Dollar so early, with daylight leaking in through the back door out to the smoking area — it's like seeing Joan Rivers without makeup or something like that. And indeed, it was pretty quiet in the room as the band took the stage. Drummer Matt Rubba faced the situation with humour, calling out the band's name and inventing a fictional new hometown for Persian Rugs after almost every song.

The band's amiable, low-key stage presence endears me to them, but really, I broke my informal embargo on seeing bands that I'd seen before more to see how their songs and stagecraft were evolving. The vocals were passed around some, but keyboardist Kaye Hamilton is the best of the band's singers and rightfully had the most leads. But the variety otherwise generally works when deployed correctly: guitarist Ian Jackson has a serviceable range that gave a sleepy edge to "Phone Call From the Lake" and Matt Rubba's plainspoken vox powered "It's What You Think", complete with a suitably fun fakeout ending.

It's easy to underestimate the talent required to pull off unassuming modesty, but Persian Rugs have a fuzzy, jangly line on a very cardigan sort of sound, just like the light blue one Jackson was wearing. Seeing them live felt like time well-spent with some previously undiscovered Sarah Records band.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 p.m.: The Young Things @ Comfort Zone

After that, ducked downstairs to the much-less daylight-afflicted Comfort Zone to check out The Young Things, a NYC quartet with a scrappy, somewhat-retro garage sound. Showing a bit of "industry" ambition, they had a friend passing out copies of their debut EP ... is the killer, to the crowd while they knocked out the songs from it nearly in order.

There were hints of a Beatles-y melodic sense, and that would come out a couple more times — as would a decent talent at arranging harmonies. That would be tempered by an equal enjoyment for a scuzzier kind of rock, as evidenced by "All My Friends Are Junkies" — although, to be honest, they didn't quite make me believe that claim. That back-alley tendency in their sound was faced head-on with a Strokes cover — which was perhaps a bit too on the nose.

This was all enjoyable enough, though when the band left the retro-y sensibility behind, like on "Talking Too Loud" (or on the warmed-over blues-isms of "It's So Easy For You To Lie") they veered too much toward a safe, homogenized radio-ready pop sound. Obviously, that's no more or less original than the garage-y stuff, but for me it's nowhere near as compelling. My prognosis was that this is a band that needed to get more primitive in order to progress.

10 p.m.: The Vandelles @ Comfort Zone

The Vandelles were also up from the Big Apple, and one could tell that they had that palpable buzz that The Young Things were clearing coveting. All at once, the area in front of the stage was suddenly filled with photographers staking out space.

And I could get what the excitement was about when they started playing, a blast of reverb and "Be My Baby" drumbeats. Leading off with "Way Through You" (which their bandcamp cheekily suggests was "released 06 June 1966"), the band was showcasing some tracks they were getting ready to record (and which have now been released on their Strange Girls Don't Cry album).

No complaints with what they were doing, but I couldn't help comparing the band to Chains of Love, who I'd seen the night before — a comparison that illustrated The Vandelles' limitations. Chains of Love dove more forcefully into the pool of their musical influences and went deeper into their shtick, going full-out in their stage appearance. Here, however, Vandelles vocalist Jason (no last name given) played in sandals and cut-off jeans, though bassist Lulu (also no last name given, and fighting a bad back by playing while braced against a tall chair) looked more the part.

And musically, the band were willing to get a little sloppy and could even hint at some Jesus and Mary Chain velocity, but it felt too much like these were ill-fitting sheets draped over songs that really didn't invest themselves fully in the sensibility they were playing at. The fact that they would more recently be selected to open some touring dates for JAMC implies that maybe they're a better fit with that sound than I was giving them credit for, and as they closed with a trio of songs from their Summer Fling EP I was certainly willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 p.m.: New/France @ El Mocambo

Crossing the street, I went to this on a hunch, finding something interesting in a blurb mentioning that the band featured "ex and present members of local stalwarts Groovy Religion and La Casa Muerte". Besides the notion of a band mixing together musicians from different generations, the Groovy Religion connection intrigued me.

And, indeed, this band would have no less than Groovy Religion's William New on vocals. Perhaps this linkage of players (who didn't immediately look like they all belonged in the same band) arose from the same ethos New has displayed as a founder of Elvis Mondays — an essential community-building role in T.O.'s indie scene stretching from the 80's to today. Guitarist Roy Pike looks to be of the same vintage, but I can't dig up much about him — and he lacks an index entry in Have Not Been The Same.

Regardless, he did an ace job trading corrosive riffs with Bo Frantz (the Casa Muerte connection, making the band's moniker a bit of a play on words on its two founders' last names) in a stereo back-and-forth of bracing minimalism. The sound was tied together by Jenny Charlton's Mo Tucker-ish drums, played standing up with mallets. There were some superb moments here, with that guitar give-and-take and New tersely sing-speaking his lines in a voice somewhere between Art Bergmann and Iggy Pop while staring down the crowd with a thousand-yard stare beaming out from under his wild nest of hair.

New clearly didn't always feel the need to be the focus, and when not singing, he'd sometimes simply wander to the back of the stage, facing away from the crowd, while the guitars duked it out. And while there were a couple points where things were a bit out of sync and the drums skipped a beat, on the whole this was a rewarding moment of no wave-ish menace. "Moment" is key here — although I did get another chance to see this unit, my understanding is that it was not built to last and is no longer active. Bo Frantz has shifted gears to the promising new Das Rad, while William New endures as William New.

I'd posted one track from this set here — but given that it seems like you won't be able to hear these songs anywhere else I've added another one here.

12 a.m.: OFF! @ The Horseshoe

As the New/France set moved along, there was a shifting dynamic in the crowd at the El Mo, with a different cadre of folks building up at the front anticipating a reunion set by Rusty. That wasn't my scene, so I headed out and ducked down Spadina to Queen Street.

I had something more ambitious in mind, and for once I was going to see one of the more-hyped bands at the festival — which meant, of course, that I was dubious that I'd be able to get in. But with a plethora of good bands playing at midnight, I figured I'd be okay in settling for one of my Plan B's — so much so that I was more than mildly surprised when I managed to get into a packed, sweaty 'Shoe just minutes before OFF! took the stage.

Though I don't have an immense background in hardcore, I do like to feel the energy of it every once in a while, and this new group of veterans seemed like a can't-lose proposition. Fronted by Keith Morris — original Black Flag vocalist and founder of the Circle Jerks — the band includes Burning Brides frontman Dimitri Coats on guitar and Rocket From The Crypt/Hot Snakes drummer Mario Rubalcaba. Rounding out the lineup is bassist Steven McDonald (of Redd Kross fame), younger than the others but emerging from the same Californian milieu.

"Stephen and I go back to a place called The Church in Hermosa Beach," Morris told the crowd. "And we hope that we can transport some of you back there tonight." Evoking the golden age of west coast hardcore (right down to the Raymond Pettibon cover art on the albums) is the band's stock-in-trade.

Even with a slim catalogue of songs to their name, the band had no problem filling out their timeslot when Morris' raps and introductions were considered. Highly entertaining (if a little erratic), Morris discoursed on post-9/11 politics with as much direct intensity as he welded in considering what to do with the errant shoe that had been flung onto the stage. The two things, it turned out, didn't have anything to do with each other, though the possibility was discussed. It also provoked some audience interaction:

Dude in crowd: Play a song!

Morris: Dude, what's your hurry? It's fuckin' Friday night. Where ya goin'... mom and dad gonna show up in the SUV?

When they did focus on the music, the band started at the beginning of the first of their EP's with "Black Thoughts", following it with a couple more of its mates (including an excellent "I Don't Belong") before pausing for a break for Morris to offer forth some more discourse. That set the pattern of two-three song rapidfire bursts followed by pauses for Morris to banter. Both parts of the performance — banter and music — were equally entertaining and just standing back in the crowd watching (I didn't need to be near the frothing moshpit) drained me. But still, great fun.

Listen to a couple quick songs from this set here.

1 a.m.: Heavy Cream @ Comfort Zone

Headed back up the street for another band that I'd seen before, mostly because when I'd first seen bouncy Tennessee crew Heavy Cream at CMW they were suffering through a set with terrible sound. I was able to get the impression that this was my kind of thing, but it was hard to really appreciate them. And though they were battling with some issues here as well — as the last band of the night, they were suffering from a drumkit that was coming apart at the seams — this was a much better showing.

It took 'em a couple songs to get warmed up, but the one-two punch of "Watusi" and "I Know This" was quite fun — sorta like a meeting of the minds between Be Your Own Pet and The Ramones. The band was a constant blur of energy, especially from vocalist Jessica, who exhibited classic frontwoman magnetism, bouncing and shimmying without missing a note.

They played a fair number of songs that would later turn up on this year's Super Treatment, which was produced, notably, by Ty Segall with a lot more oomph than their earlier recordings. And even when the songs might have sounded a little silly ("Summer Bummer" was one title here) the band was seriously into it. The set was over in a flash, leaving a most pleasant aftertaste.

Listen to a track from this set here.

2 a.m.: No Joy @ The Silver Dollar Room

And, making the night close out full circle, it was back upstairs to see another "secret guest" that was pretty widely advertised in advance. I was pretty eager to get a chance to see Montréal's No Joy, whose Ghost Blonde album had really impressed me. Live, the four-piece brought a bit more animation to their shoegazey tunes than I was expecting — the title track, which lead off the set, got some more "push" that isn't there on the album from the drummer.

That wouldn't be expressed with much physical animation, mind you — singer/guitarists Jasmine White-Glutz and Laura Lloyd (the co-founders of the band) were shoegazers in the most literal sense, playing doubled over, their long blonde fair almost constantly obscuring their faces. Sort of the Thurston Moore school of guitar playing, just as there was certainly a bit of Sonic Youth in the band's music. They weren't much for banter, coming and leaving the stage without saying a word, preferring to build up segues between songs (on a couple occasions with sampled film dialogue) instead of creating dead time that might encourage audience interaction.

The set was mostly material from the album, though it did closing out with an extended run through The Shangri-Las' "He Cried", the bassline holding steady to anchor a few minutes' guitar noise to close things out. The musicians weren't inclined to acknowledge the audience but the set definitely made a solid impact on me.

Listen to a track from this set here.

NXNE 2011: Wednesday

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2011.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011. Featuring: Loom, Megan Bonnell, O Voids, Red Mass, Parlovr

N.B.: I had written some contemporaneous notes about the festival here. These are mostly a by-product of a few additional observations as I have now had time to properly go through my recordings.

8:00 p.m.: Loom @ Rivoli

Brooke Manning's folk/drone project took on a different cast than when I had seen last her playing in February. On that occasion, she had a couple musicians sharing the stage with her, including Maya Postepski's icy, ambient keyboard work. Now playing on her own, the music was even more spare, the songs something closer to folk (albeit of a somewhat nonlinear, drone-y style) than to the vaguely Broadcast-y feel of the previous versions.

That said, this was still very good stuff. It helps that there's some crackerjack songs here. Plus, Manning took the stage with far more confidence than on that previous occasion, even daring to smile and look confidently relaxed. At one point, she took a picture of the audience with a disposable camera, instructing everyone to close their eyes and think of something they loved. Manning seemed to be following her own advice while playing, eyes closed and fingers spinning out her slow, fragile dreams.

Leading off with the Arthur Russell-quoting "Grown", there were a few spots where she stumbled a bit without a net to catch her, but even a couple lyrical stumbles couldn't derail the gorgeousness of "It Is Love". Whether by design or not, Manning got a little louder as the set went on, perhaps to act as a bulwark against the room's background noise building up as things went along. She ended with the more full-blooded "Around Again" and a game run through Suzanne Vega's "Tom's Diner". "I am thinking of your voice" is the sort of line that could be from one of her own songs, and she managed to get a good way through before losing the lyrical thread, quickly tossing it to the crowd to sing along on the do-do-doo-doo refrain before seguing down into a minor key to close with one of her own songs.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 p.m.: Megan Bonnell @ Rivoli

Choosing to stick around for this was more of a "well, I'm here" sort of decision. And while I can sometimes be swayed by purveyors of piano pop, it's more often the case that I find it hard for anything to really stand out from a crowded field. For this set, Bonnell — on a full-sized electric piano — was joined by a drummer, as well as a cellist on several songs. The latter certainly enriched the sound, but sadly there were some persistent sound problems with unwanted buzzings and harsh overtones from the strings. Even Bonnell's vocals were sometimes creaking in the mix. That'd certainly be no fault of her own, as she gave every indication of being a good singer, gifted with a powerful voice that she used with admirable restraint.

Singing the geographically-inclined songs from the then-new Maps EP (alongside some, like "Moonshiner" from her earlier release) her smoky timber occasionally recalled Chan Marshall, although she employed her voice is a different manner. Unfortunately, though she was capable of exploring the range between the jaunty "The Wind" and the more dirgeful "Lake Superior", the songs didn't do much for me, so I spent more time thinking about how she might fit into her genre than I was being pulled into the music.

And meanwhile, the crowd was getting increasing inattentive, making this a poor setting to try and absorb something like title track "Maps" (which sounds nice in its recorded incarnation). In fact, after that song, one guy up front (not me!) would turn around to chastise the rest of the crowd, shouting at them to show some respect for the musicians. Ultimately, it was a nice enough set, but I wasn't made into a fan.

10 p.m.: O Voids @ The Horseshoe

From there, it was just the shortest of walks, past the front bar of The Riv (packed with people eyeballing the Stanley Cup final) over to the 'Shoe (where the front bar was similarly jammed). It was quieter in the back as The O Voids got ready to play. This showcase was presented by M for Montréal, and I dropped by in time for some aggressive volume that was in sharp contrast to what I had seen so far in the night. A different crowd, too: it didn't take long after I entered the venue for a guy to sidle up beside me to ask if there was any good weed in town.

There's not a lot of info on this triothough I've seen it noted that they share some members with Les Georges Leningrad. And though their online presence is pretty minimal, it seems like they're still a going concern. At any rate, they had a convincing blurb and a likeable track on offer in their festival listing, so I gave it a go. And as could be expected, loud guitars and bellowed vocals weren't a bad way to get my attention.

With a lean guit/bass/drums lineup, the band could be considered a power trio — at least in the sense that, say, Mission of Burma are a power trio. There were also some occasional hints of the more pummelling sort of post-punk as well, like Keith Levine-era Public Image Limited, which they list as an influence.

Given that subtlety doesn't seem to be their bag, it probably mattered a bit less that they had a bit of trouble getting everything balanced in the mix — in the end, the band settled for the solution of just turning the guitar up. That actually did clear up some initially-murky sound, but also made it ear-splittingly loud in the room. Musically, I mostly enjoyed what was on offer here, even with the vox buried way down somewhere. (Though one might guess that the lyrics were perhaps not the most fussed over anyways — "Far Out" seemed to mostly involve that phrase getting shouted over and over.)

The music occasionally veered toward something catchy in the manner of, say, early Superchunk, but lots of little post hardcore ruffles around the edges kept this off the easy track. Meanwhile, after the set, the weed guy (clearly not remembering me from a half-hour previous) re-accosted me, this time to ask if I knew where to get any "joints".

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 p.m.: Red Mass @ The Horseshoe

I'd been aware of Roy Vucino's rock-onslaught machine for quite awhile, just having missed seeing them at a couple previous festivals. Vucino (aka Choyce, formerly of CPC Gangbangs) started the band as an open-ended concept, sort of the evil version of all those feel-good indie-pop "collectives" that had flourished a few years ago. Previous gigs came with reports of double-digit figures on stage — their promo pic still sports an even dozen — but for this road excursion, they were playing as a comparatively-manageable five piece. But that's still enough people to raise a helluva racket.

The set started with some bait-and-switch, with some live violin being played against a manipulated tape-recorded one, but that was soon set aside as the group settled into the aggressive hard rock groove of "Killer on the Loose", sort of like a bad-trip version of the MC5. And then, about halfway through the set, "Weird Mess" hit like a sonic reducer, and suddenly the band was rather excellent.

Sadly, it was just at that moment that the band was really nailing it when Vucino broke a guitar string. The rest of the band played on while he hurriedly changed it, creating an unplanned lengthy instrumental excursion. But that triggered something, and starting with a snarling "Saturn", the rest of the set was similarly intense, including a guest turn from Siânteuse (of The Sphinxs) on backing vox. A half-hour in, it felt like the band was just getting warmed up, so we only got about three songs of the really good stuff before their time was done. Definitely noted as something warranting further investigation.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Midnight: Parlovr @ The Horseshoe

The night's "special guest" headliner was an open secret, it seemed, and I decided to stick around to see how things had progressed for this trio. It was actually back at NXNE two years before that we'd last crossed paths. Things certainly seem to have gone well for the band, who are now garnering a pretty large and enthusiastic following. And they've definitely managed to thicken their two-guitars-no-bass sound a bit. Vocally, it appears there hasn't been much of a change from when I first saw 'em and was a bit weary of "slightly howl-y adenoidal vox".

Banging out a series of quick songs, the set featured tracks from the Hell/Heaven/Big/Love EP, and the band was working out several of the songs that would emerge a year later on their Kook Soul album. The trio played with manic energy and their wired-up deportment is definitely their strongest suit. Clearly having fun on stage, Alex Cooper was passing a beer along to the audience and sing-speaking "I'm making frie-nnnn-ds!" — and perhaps milking the moment a bit too much on closer "General Hell (True Love Fades)".

But the songs just didn't do much for me. That put me firmly in the minority, as there were a lot of people who were really into it. During "Pen To The Paper" — perhaps their most meticulously-crafted song — I noticed the couple in front of me singing it to each other in a manner suggesting it was "their song". Clearly this hits in just the right spot for a lot of people, and if I don't get that, I can at least admit it's energetic as hell and fun to bounce along to.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Gig: Sports

Sports (Pow Wows)

The Horseshoe Tavern. Tuesday, June 7, 2011.

Out for the Tuesday night free show at the 'Shoe to catch a band that I hadn't seen in a good while. The decision to head down was helped by the fact that they were preceded by Pow Wows, who I knew to be a raucous fun live band. Not necessarily a sonically precise one, mind you, as hinted at with this revealing soundcheck banter to the sound tech: "Can we just get destroyed with reverb? Let's get wet!"

Playing a fairly similar setlist to the previous time I had seen 'em, the band were mostly tackling songs that would soon emerge on their Nightmare Soda album. Alongside all that reverb, the band brought a rangy and at times wilfully sloppy attack to their garage rock howlers. The lyrics were not especially clear by design but the underlying intent was not at all obscure, with numerous odes to the sort of impulses best invoked in the anthemic set-closer "Seeing Black".

They managed to efficiently crank out ten joltin' songs in their half hour, despite — or because of? — the fact that they looked a little wobbly on their feet. "They were not at all drunk," a friend commented afterward with a I-mean-the-opposite shake of the head. That doesn't mean they weren't pretty good — just good in a way that implies slurred speech rather than clear elocution.¹

Listen to a track from this set here.

At one level, it's hard to believe that Sports was the same band that I'd seen a couple years previously. It's well befitting that they had, in fact, since then stripped away "The Band" from the end of their name, a symbolic act that pointed to how they were now a leaner, more rock-oriented machine under vocalist/guitarist Nathan Rekker's leadership.

There's still some points of intersect with the before-times, like "Warn Me", which was presented on the previous incarnation's EP. But live, it now sounded like it had several layers stripped off, and gave the impression it was based on hazy memories of Them's "Gloria" instead of, say, a New Pornographers song as the 2009 recording hints at. Some of the additional guitar presence came from a woodshedding Pete Carmichael (ex-Diableros, at this point beginning to assemble his Whirly Birds), who had taken on sideman duties.

With some likeable guitar textures, there was a good sound here as the band presented mostly material from their then-new album. Even with the more rock-forward positioning, there was still a balancing-off between the more aggressive and nimble material, with, say, "Castlots" (another holdover from the EP) leaning more toward the latter. For me, I liked it best more when they eased back on the subtlety and just rocked, even in a more restrained way, like in a new, then-untitled song (it had a refrain of "you and me and the devil make three"). And best of all was closer "Slacking Scholar", where it all came into focus, with crunch and hooks in equal measure — this is one that can really get stuck in your head.²

I'd previously posted something from the band's new album here, and now you can also check out the new sound of an older song here.

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¹ The band has more recently undergone some lineup changes, but they're still keeping busy. They'll be co-headlining a show at the Silver Dollar with Meanwood on Thursday, August 3, 2012.

² Sports also has an upcoming gig at the Silver Dollar, playing with Persian Rugs on August 25, 2012, which sounds like a promising Saturday night.

Gig: Damon & Naomi

Damon & Naomi (Amor de Días)

The Horseshoe Tavern. Wednesday, May 25, 2011.

The evening's rain swept in earlier than expected, and with it a chill in the air. That kept me from walking, and I was forced to watch the inky eveninglight slump over the day through the streetcar window. The city looked abandoned.

Those hiding from the rain weren't doing it at the 'Shoe, which was also eerily empty as I made my way in. Not even music playing on the PA, so I could hear rainwater — I hoped — rushing through the overhead pipes. The room smelled like a wet sock that had been tossed onto a radiator.

Off to the side by the merch table, I could hear Alasdair MacLean chatting with earlybirds dropping by to grab records. As someone who generally rolls their eyes at the whole idea of "branding", this was a sobering reminder of just how much value there is in a band name: the last time MacLean passed through town, fronting The Clientele, he was playing to a full house. Now, with Amor de Días — his new project with Lupe Núñez-Fernández¹ — he was the opening act at a show playing to a couple dozen people.

In fact, this would be the quietest show and the quietest crowd I'd ever witnessed at the 'Shoe. And at the very least, if there was going to be a small crowd, I was glad that it seemed as if every person who showed up was here to listen. As the set started, I was leaning against the pole on the left side of the dancefloor as MacLean invited people to move up. Soon, there were a few folks moving their chairs onto the dancefloor as the band — joined on stage by Heather McIntosh on cello — led with the mostly instrumental "Foxes' Song".

Amor de Días' album is a spare, wispy thing, and live, it was even moreso, presented without the quiet rhythm tracks and additional textures from a bevy of guest musicians. Instead, there was mostly just two voices singing softly together, acoustic guitar and the low notes of the cello to craft the simple beauty of "Dream (Dead Hands)".

Before "Harvest Time", previously released on The Clientele's Bonfires on the Heath, Alasdair commented, "You may recognize this as a song by another band I was in. [beat] It's a song by Depeche Mode." Jokes aside (and the slightly painful finality of his use of the past tense to describe The Clientele), it turns out, that the song was indeed originally recorded for this project, and subsequently repurposed for The Clientele. Its country meadow vibe and pre-industrial sensibility ("everything here has a place and a time / we're only passing by") evokes a sense of nature existing as something larger than us, here before and after us — a notion far from the suburban light.

But it's important to note that this is not just a songwriting project for MacLean, but very much a partnership. And it's the contrasting textures of Núñez-Fernández's songs that really set this apart, moving things from MacLean's heath-rambles to the gentle bossa nova of "Late Mornings". There's a common ground in the two approaches, mostly in the shared fragility and spaciousness of the songs, and room for the two voices to gently rub up against each other.

Except for "New Wine", the setlist would mostly stick to the material from the album — they even chose to tackle some of the more abstract stuff, like Núñez-Fernández's "Birds", which did employ a quiet electronic backing track.

The forty-five minute set closed with "Wild Winter Trees". The whole thing was quite wonderful and entrancing — the only thing was lacking was a crackling fireplace and a window with a view over glen and vale.

I posted a song here right after this show, but now I've also added some more here.

As the between-set turnover ended, I wandered back from the front bar to find that someone had taken my spot by the post — but there was an invitingly empty chair on the dancefloor for me to claim. This would turn out to be an excellent set to be seated for. Truth be told, I was more here for the openers than Damon & Naomi, a band that I had always casually appreciated, but had never really explored in depth.

The product of the longstanding partnership between Damon Krukowski and Naomi Yang², this former rhythm section now specializes in a sleepy and decidedly less-rhythmical folk-rock. This duo — with Yang on keyboards and Krukowski on acoustic guitar — also had an extra member at hand to fill out their sound, and the slightly soft-rockish vibe from Bhob Rainey's saxophone fit right into the music's defiant limpidity.

They started by featuring songs from their then-new False Beats And True Hearts, but did find time to spotlight material from a catalogue now eight albums deep. From Within These Walls³ there was the advanced downerism of "Lilac Land", which gives off a little hint of "Hey You", after a couple valiums. And in the absence of Ghost guitarist Michio Kurihara⁴, Alasdair MacLean pitched in on electric guitar for "Ueno Station", which was about as loud as the set got, as well as the quieter new "Nettles and Ivy" ("nettles and ivy / twisting until they die").

As the band played the quietly swirling "Helsinki", it was, somehow appropriately, eerily cold and silent in the room. I could occasionally hear the clack of someone playing pool out in the front bar, but otherwise, nothing. The band did ramp things up at the finish, as all three members of Amor de Días came on stage to pitch in on an extra Gram Parsons-y version of the Rolling Stones' "Shine a Light", with Krukowski noting, "this is as rock'n'roll as we get," while commenting on feeling the vibes of country music past in the Horseshoe's walls. Encore "Turn of the Century" (from 2002's Song to the Siren) closed out a rather satisfying hour.

Listen to a track from this set here.

It was an excellent night, and the quiet spaciousness in the room made it even better — this exact same show would have been awful in a packed, chatty room. Yet, I worry about the economic viability of artists tromping around the country (and across oceans) if they're playing to crowds like this. Still, I did what I could, and went and bought a disc from MacLean, shook his hand and thanked him for coming. Hopefully these deliberately low-key bands will garner more attention when they make their way back.

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¹Núñez-Fernández is also one-half of Pipas.

² It's probably obligatory to add "formerly of Galaxie 500" after their names even though, by this point, they've now spent far more time overall just being Damon & Naomi.

³ Speaking of Within These Walls, the band showed a pretty advanced sense of self-awareness and ability to laugh at their own mordancy:

Damon: The darkest album of our dark careers...

[someone in the crowd "woos"]

Damon: ...we gave ourselves a challenge... to make it even sadder. Y'know: "that's sad, but how sad can you go?"

Naomi: ...and how slow also...

Damon: Yeah, 'cause people think we're slow and sad, but, y'know, to us, we're just normal. So we thought, "what if we were slow and sad to us?" Where would that end up?

Naomi: We horrified ourselves.

Damon: Yeah, so that's that album. Anyway, pick up a copy on your way out!

⁴ Kurihara, who has been collaborating with Yang and Krukowski since 2000's With Ghost, had originally been slated to complete the band on this tour, but visa problems had kept him from making the trip to North America.

Gig: Jennifer Castle

Jennifer Castle (Bahamas / Carl Didur)

The Horseshoe Tavern. Thursday, May 19, 2011.

The previous time I had seen a set by Carl Didur had been in a much more beautifully park-like environment, but I had made my out early to the 'Shoe to catch him regardless of relative dankitude. The stage was packed full of gear as Didur stepped up — though looking it over, I figured a lot of it wasn't his stuff and that the standup piano, say, would be used further along in the night. I was right in guessing that the sound-activated light was his, though.

Still, it was enough stuff that I wondered if this was going to be a solo set — especially as I could see several of his musical peers and collaborators hanging out in front of the stage. But as he began, he was on his own with a couple keybs on the table in front of him. He also had a reel-to-reel unit with a long tape loop reaching over to a spindle about six feet away on top of the piano, and there was a boombox tilted back against the monitor making bird noises.

Those birdcalls, a loop of tapping percussion and Didur's minor key playing led off the set, with all of the elements slowly rubbing up against each other in different ways. The looped keyb ostinados and kosmiche percussion created a regular framework under his playing. After about six minutes of the birdcall song, Didur flipped the switch on an ancient rhythm box and moved on to a new idea.

A couple minutes later, a drummer came on stage and settled in, but more as if he was just there to watch, too. It was several minutes before the next piece began and he joined in, Didur's little repeated phrases on the keyboard shifting in octave and tempo to provide a throughline as the drummer countered with a propulsive buildup.

There were about five distinct "songs" in the continuous twenty-five minute performance. So far as I know, Didur is a little cagey with song titles, but if you see him play a few times, you realize that he's working with a defined set of compositions.¹ His solo work is simply quite excellent right now, and this stuff works on several levels — musically it's soothing and groovy all at once and the underlying tonal warmth pulls you in. Plus, for one guy hunched behind a keyboard, light flickering away, it's interesting in that technical sense of how's-he-doing-it? but you can just as easily close your eyes, lean back and zone out a bit.²

Listen to an excerpt from this set here.

The night's middle set was a mystery guest who had been listed only as "Tex Message" — a name that'd be less obscure now, but I was surprised to see Afie Jurvanen take the stage to set up his gear.³ So, as Jason Tait adjusted his drums up front on stage left, I knew it was going to be a Bahamas set, but I was confused by the pair of microphones on the other side of the stage. I was musing on the possibility that Jurvanen had added a horn section as a pair of backing vocalists emerged. I recognized Felicity Williams (from THOMAS, Hobson's Choice and many more projects) and her partner turned out to be Carleigh Aikins (formerly of Fox Jaws).

This unorthodox quartet is now the standard configuration for Bahamas, but was pretty new at the time, so it's no surprise that the setlist skewed towards the songs with more-developed arrangements for the backing vocals — which meant the set was loaded with material that would later emerge on Barchords. In fact, what would be that album's opening pair ("Lost In The Light" and "Caught Me Thinkin") led off the set. Of course, some of these songs had been around for almost as long as the ones on debut album Pink Strat — I remember seeing "Caught Me Thinking" back in October 2009 — but they were certainly less known to the crowd. It wasn't until "Already Yours" that Jurvanen revisited Pink Strat, and that would turn out to be one of only a couple, though there was an amusing version of "Hockey Teeth" as performed "from the set of Grease", with the vocals going back and forth between Jurvanen and the backing vocalists.

Williams and Aikins got to handle a few diverse tasks, from reeling off a commercial jingle between songs to adding a double-kazoo solo during "Okay Alright I'm Alive". That also shows the carefree vibe of the set — although there's a fair amount of sadness and regret in Jurvanen's lyrics, he's always maintained a genial stage presence. In fact, in some of the times I had seen him in the past, Jurvanen verged on being slightly goofy onstage; this time 'round, he was more relaxed and mellow.

For an artist who is now a hot commodity, the crowd at this show was semi-indifferent to his set, with far more people content to stand back and chat — or, increasingly, just get chatty right up front. Jurvanen wasn't in the mood to counter and in fact closed the nine-song set on the spare, quiet "Snow Plow". The murmuring around me took me out of this to some extent, but I was certainly impressed with how Jurvanen was presenting his newer stuff.

Listen to a track from this set here.

That made for quite a contrast in two opening acts who might not have fit with each other, but who each felt like musical kin with Jennifer Castle. Both a sound explorer and a singer-songwriter, she sometimes operates with Didur's obliqueness — such as sets where she'd play continuously, seguing from one unfamiliar song to the next, blurring the distinctions between them — but she can also write tunes that are as catchy and well-constructed as any of Bahamas' pop confections.

This show was being held to celebrate the release of Castlemusic, which reconciles those opposing ideas. It also de-obfuscates the artist a bit, moving Castle's own name out front and relegating her previous "Castlemusic" moniker to the album's title. The show felt really well-constructed to let all these contradictions play off each other without appearing to be mutually exclusive.

Castle emerged alone, borrowing a lighter from someone in the crowd to light the candle on top of the piano⁴ before starting the set solo and a capella. Her voice managed to transfix the audience, and the room was whisper quiet at the set's beginning. Building the sound one step at a time, she picked up her guitar to play "Neverride" — the first selection from what would ultimately be the whole of the new album. Castle is a transfixing guitarist, playing in a blues-based style revolving around drone-y, circular figures. It's a subtle approach that sometimes gets covered over in a group context, so I'm glad the show took the time to spotlight this before moving along.

But I'm also glad she brought along a band, and once again that dual musical identity was on display in its composition. On the one hand there was a couple members of roots-rockers One Hundred Dollars, with Paul Mortimer on guitar and Dave Clarke on drums.⁵ But there were also a pair of players who slide back and forth through a lot of shape-shifty projects in the improvised music community, with longtime collaborator Ryan Driver on piano (and also adding some flute on "Misguided"), as well as bassist Mike Overton.⁶ Of course, not everyone was playing to "type" here — Driver can play a mean barrelhouse piano line when called for, and Mortimer/Clark have tricks far beyond the honkytonks.

And in the middle of it all, Castle still has a propensity to combine similar songs into mini-suites — here, the new album's "Misguided" moved effortlessly into "Who" (from the previous You Can't Take Anyone). In a mid-set solo spot there was a newer, untitled one that Castle's been singing for a little while now — it might end up being called "Sailing Away" — that celebrates the old itinerant bluesman's rootlessness: "don't need a home, I don't need a lover, I'll be out on my own, come hell or high water". And yet, that was combined with an instrumental called "The Friend".

The band returned, but the quieter material continued, and "You Don't Have To Be" used their accompaniment for colour more than volume. They got a little louder after that, though still with a mellow vibe for fantastic renditions of "Way of The Crow" and "Powers". The latter was in an especially slowed-down, moody version, again featuring Driver's flute.

Sadly, as the clock hit midnight, a few people started to trickle out of the venue, and it seemed like everyone that was left decided to get involved in a conversation, threatening to drown the music out. The band overcame the chattering with a rollicking version of "For My Friends" to close out the main set. For the encore, Castle took to the piano for "Remembering", and that seemed to re-capture people's attention. On the whole, a really good show, worthy of the excellent album it was celebrating.

Perhaps appropriately, there's a couple flavours on offer from this set: check out something loud and raucous here, or something quieter and meditative here.

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¹ There's a similar ambiguity in the work of Zacht Automaat, Didur's "band" project with Michael McLean, with most of the superb music that the band has released being divided only into cassette sides. Slim Twig's annotation of the ZA discography is the best account of this material, which comes with my highest recommendation.

² As of this writing, Didur has just posted a new recording on his soundcloud page which "sounds different than my other recent doings", mentioning in a tantalizing aside that this was an exercise undertaken during "a break from the final assembly of the new Zacht Automaat double album." Keep your eyes peeled!

³ Later on, Jurvanen would use this handle mainly for his covers sets when he would tackle some of Willie Nelson's Stardust appropriations of the Great American Songbook.

⁴ Let's pause here to note that The 'Shoe does not have a house piano — it was considered important enough for this gig that the band brought one in.

⁵ I have seen Mortimer and Clarke backing Castle before, and they also play alongside her in Doloro. And while thinking of the latter, it's worth pointing out that with their self-titled album, Castle was involved into two of the best albums of 2011. You really need to own them both.

⁶ Overton plays with Saint Dirt Elementary School and a lot of other Tranzac-y units, but he has also performed with Great Lake Swimmers.

Gig: Jon Langford & His Sadies

Jon Langford & His Sadies (Dean Waco / Jon Langford's Skull Orchard / The Good Family)

The Horseshoe Tavern. Friday, April 15, 2011.

Another unseasonably cold Friday night where it was too unpleasant out to wander much — although I was actually of a mind to get down to the 'Shoe early anyway. On a night with four inter-related bands playing, the first group out might not have registered with casual fans, but making some inferences I was guessing this was one I'd want to get out early for.

At various Sadies shows I'd seen all the component parts of The Good Family on the stage at one time or another, but it was welcoming to see "the kinfolk" up front. This incarnation basically offered the Sadies as the backing band — like taking the guest parts in a Sadies set where the relatives come out to sing and foregrounding that.

Dallas Good was the first one out on to a stage crowded with gear. Still wearing a cast after suffering a nasty broken leg while on tour, he needed a little extra time to settle into a stool and prop up his foot on a chair beside his monitor. Even though his pedals were now sitting on top of his amp, the injury didn't seem to to slow his fingers down.

Once the rest of the band were on stage, things burst right into a wonderful old-timey hoedown, leading off with "I'll Fly Away" (powered by paterfamilias Bruce Good's autoharp) and followed with Travis Good singing bluegrass standard "Ole Slew Foot".

There were a couple songs from The Sadies' catalog, including a slowed-down and sad "Sunset to Dawn", and also Margaret Good (Dallas and Travis' mom) singing "Eastern Winds".¹ The set would be split between songs that you might expect to hear during a Sadies show with some others that Bruce and Margaret brought to the table. In the latter category was Gordon Lightfoot's "Redwood Hill" — Bruce casually mentioning he was hanging out with Lightfoot in California when the song was written.

And adding more family, cousin Spencer — son of Larry Good, immortalized in the song "Uncle Larry's Breakdown" — joined for a double-banjo powered number. The set offered an efficient baker's dozen songs in forty minutes, closing with a turbocharged "Stay a Little Longer" — and an excellent time throughout. Very much a warm, family feeling.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Although it's easy to just add "of the Mekons" to identify Jon Langford, he's a guy with many fingers in many pies, having put out plenty albums as a member of the Waco Brothers and in several semi-solo formations. And here, he was performing as his own opening act, bringing an entirely separate band to do it. Jon Langford's Skull Orchard take their name from Langford's fabulous 1998 album², and this set would include some of its songs (including "Trapdoor" and "I Am the Law") alongside more from the from the new-ish Old Devils.

This unit featured a hard-driving rootsy sound, admirably rangy and scrappy, not so different from Langford's other "solo" incarnations. The rhythm section looked like they could have been plucked from a cadre of weekend blooze jammers — although on closer inspection I realized it was Al Doughty (previously of Jesus Jones) on the bass.

And as always, Langford was a bon vivant on stage, with plenty of value-added banter: "this song's called 'Self Portrait'. It's about being an artist and how all artists are complete wankers." Even better was introducing a song as being about the England World Cup Team: after a cheer from the floor, Langford off-handedly said, "you haven't heard it yet, mate," launching into "Getting Used To Uselessness".

The heart of the set included a pair of covers, both tributes to Langford's contemporaries. Tawny Newsome handled the vox for Viv Albertine's "I Don't Believe In Love", but that was overshadowed by a stellar power-pop version of The Go-Betweens' "Streets of Your Town", one of the much-missed Grant McLennan's most indelible gems. And after a couple more originals, the set closed with one more sorta-cover, with the band essaying The Three Johns' "Death of the European", complete with a bracing postpunk guitar line.

I'd originally posted a cover from this set here, and I've now supplemented it with an original here — the latter also includes a link to the Live Music Archive, where you can stream or download this entire set.

The Skull Orchard rhythm section would stay on for the next set, comprising two-thirds of a sorta roots-y power trio behind Dean Schlabowske, who operates under the nom de rock Dean Waco. Schlabowske spent some of the set flirting with band names — settling, for this night, on "Atom Banana" — though he could as easily have just been billed as Dollar Store, his side-project away from the Waco Brothers.

The Dollar Store material would provide the backbone for the set, though they'd also touch on his Deano Meats the Purveyors album³ and leave room for several covers, including "I Wanna Destroy You" à la Uncle Tupelo and "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry".

There was a good punch to the music, even if Schlabowske's vocals were a little meat-and-potatoes. But there was no doubt that he can tear off a mean guitar solo. That was enough of a framework for an interesting set, and being able to bring up some friends to the stage kept things interesting. Travis Good added some guitar to "In The Gravel Yard", and Tracy Dear of the Waco Brothers came out to sing "Teenage Kicks". Jon Langford was right up front taking this in, and when Schlabowske broke a string, he jumped up to change it for him. Langford would return for the finale, a ripping run through Status Quo's "Paper Plane". Good Friday-night stuff that worked well for a crowd that was starting to get well-liquored up.

Listen to a track from this set here.

And it was a pretty full room of slightly-lurching enthusiasts when pretty much all of the night's previous elements recombined for the headlining set by Jon Langford & His Sadies. The only document of their longstanding live collaboration is 2003's joint Mayors of the Moon album, and several selections from that would make their way into the setlist — the choppy honkytonk rhythms of "American Pageant" led off the set. But there were plenty of interesting departures from that, including "Joshua Gone Barbados"⁴ and some Australian C&W with a cover of Roger Knox's "Streets of Tamworth". All of it was delivered with the bracing combination of the Sadies' quicksilver chops and Langford's easy, casual charm.

Langford managed to enlist the crowd in some ragged group vocals on "Are You an Entertainer?" that came off far better than one might have expected, and the main set was capped off with an extended take of the Skull Orchard track "Sentimental Marching Song" with Tawny Newsome returning to sing.

After that, the encore was so inevitable that the band never even left the stage, just hanging around to close out the night with a few covers, including the John Anderson-via-Mekons "Wild and Blue" and "Milk Cow Blues", Tracy Dear singing lead on the latter. The ne plus ultra was a couple more also-sorta-covers, with the band tackling the Mekons classics "Where Were You?" and "Memphis, Egypt". the latter is, of course, one of the all-time ever greatest rock'n'roll songs, so mark that down as a bit of an out-of-body experience to cap off a fairly fabulous night.

I'd also previously posted a cover from this set here, and have now supplemented it with one of the originals here.

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¹ I always thought of this as a Sadies song, though it turns out it was originally written by Andrew Queen, Travis and Dallas' uncle.

² A sort of loosely conceptual tribute to Langford's native Wales, it was a bit sad to be seeing this combo sans The Burlington Welsh Male Choir, who were slated for Saturday's show in Langford's two-night Horseshoe stand. Although it might sound a bit strange, having the choir involved works so much better than the idea might sound — and in fact Langford's association with them has culminated in Skull Orchard Revisited, a re-recording of the out-of-print album with beefed-up choral arrangements.

³ This bluegrass-flavoured excursion with The Meat Puveyors is available as a free download here.

⁴ Langford recorded this one on Songs of False Hope and High Values, his '03 collaborative EP with fellow Mekon Sally Timms. The set also included "Horses", written by Timms for Bonnie "Prince" Billy. It was nice to have Timms' indirect presence through those songs, as well as the rest of the Mekons with the covers in the finale — but it is enough to make a body wonder why we haven't had a T.O. visit from the Mekons in so damn long.

Gig: Chang-a-Lang

Chang-a-Lang (Terror Lake / Elk / Cigarettes)

The Horseshoe Tavern. Monday, February 21, 2011.

After five nights in a row out for the Wavelength Festival, the only logical thing to do was to follow it up with a Family Day Special. This free night at the 'Shoe hit the spot just right — no sprawling collectives to be found here, just from-the-gut rock'n'roll.

The exception to that would be the more thoughtful sounds of opener Cigarettes. A vehicle for the songwriting of Brad Casey (who, for awhile, told his Personal History in Song, displaying his gifts as a storyteller) whose vox and guitar work are supported on stage by drummer Mike Duffield. Leading off with "Burst Black Dreams" the music was on the spare side, but more than just a backdrop for Casey's lyrics, which were delivered in a higher register than you might have first expected. Other songs included "Ramblin Rose" (not an MC5 cover) and mostly came from the same set that would emerge on his Will to War and Wreck It album — Casey was excited to be able to announce the CD release on stage. He also paid tribute to Keith Hamilton — Casey sings in the choir of his Hamilton Trading Company; Hamilton played bass on Casey's album — by covering one of his songs.

The lyrics have have a pleasing solidity to them, as if they were invested in things in the world and not just vague ideas. The music, meanwhile, found a middle ground between poppy-catchy and "challenging" — usually not overtly hook-y stuff, but not going out on any limbs or anything. It's not going to shake you by the shoulders, but if you listen to its intimations there's some interesting stuff going on — a thoughtful, well-read approach suggested by song-titles like "Duende and the City". The set ended with the expansive "I Saw You Once"¹ which led off sounding like a cousin of Big Star's "Kangaroo" and built into its own mini-epic. Not rabble-rousing like the rest of the night's bands, but well-suited to the early hour in the quiet-ish 'Shoe.

Listen to a track from this set here.

It had been almost a year since I'd first encountered local-via-Niagara-region rockers Elk, but their surf-beat-happy party rock had stuck with me. Leading off here, "Spin Me Around" had a slightly different vibe than what I recalled with a bit more choogle in the boogle. But after that, "Shaking Hands" — which got a few people up moving on the dancefloor — gave me me what I was expecting, a rambunctious surf beat and a catchy singalong tune with plenty backing vox.

In fact, overall, the vocals were shared around quite equitably. Drummer Josh Korody might be the best of the bunch here, but the division of labour generally works. On songs like by the nifty "Sometime Together" the only criticism one might raise is that the song had pretty much the identical beat as the previous one.²

Elk brings a good groove and a very coherent sound — the flipside might be they veer a bit towards the too-samey, but there were some recent additions to the material (the band's setlist referred to one song as the "new fast one") that are mixing it up a little more. Anyway, they're bringing good energy and a sense of fun to the stage, which makes them worth seeing. A recent dispatch from the band states they have a new album in the can, so there'll probably be plenty upcoming opportunities to catch 'em.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Chang-a-Lang are a band that plays around town a lot, but through one thing or another I hadn't gone to see them for too long. They seem eager to get on stage and rock at any opportunity — in fact here, after a very quick changeover, the band were so rarin' to go they were momentarily stuck standing on stage, instruments at the ready, waiting on the soundman to return to the board and cut the house music.

As if a throat-clearing gesture, they led off with The Ramones' "Judy is a Punk", announcing that this is where they're coming from — and proceeding from there with a series of rapid-fire blasts from their own songbook. With the band then on the cusp of the release of their No Clean Rock and Roll album (now available on their Bandcamp) they powered through songs like "Japanese Eyes".

Their ultimate destination is more powerpop than pop-punk (they even made an excursion towards jazzy terrain with the introduction to "Ol' Roncy") and the vocal give-and-take between Brian Okamoto (guit) and Jeanette Dowling (bass) added to the appeal. With a solid backbeat from Jake Torrie, Okamoto looked pleased to be on the relatively expansive Horseshoe stage, frequently wandering back a few steps from the mic to give himself space for his Rock Moves. They could also switch things up and take the foot off the accelerator with Dowling taking some more sedate lead vox.

One of the best in the set was "Shake the Sleep", even newer than their album with Okamoto handling verses and Dowling the chorus. In fact, the setlist had almost as many new ones as album tracks, speaking further to the band's work ethic. But on watching them, you don't really dwell on that too much, as this is a band that's fun to watch because they're having so much fun on stage. Keeping things short and sweet, the band managed to pack in a dozen songs in thirty-five minutes and move things along for one last band on the night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Terror Lake share with Chang-a-Lang a penchant for on-stage physicality, with guitarists Tim and Matt anything but rooted to the ground while they play. (There's no last names, thanks, for the trio — just like there's no bass here.³) The opening combo of "Jix" and the sass of "Sucks 4 U" reminded me of everything I like a whole bunch about this band: not just the taut grooves, but their willingness to let a song roll along before the vocals start — the band has several three-minute songs that are instrumental for their first half — so much so that I actually forget that some of them have lyrics at all. "Junebug" has such a "surf instrumental" vibe I'm always taken aback when drummer Wendy starts to sing.

Like Elk, they use a surf-y beat a lot, but it never calls attention to itself too much — give credit to the musical range they're working in, to say nothing of the eminently pleasing guitar tone on stage. They quickly had a big crowd up and dancing, including on "No Fuss", hitting here with a force that I hadn't heard from the song before. There was also a new one dedicated to Brad Casey — "cigar, cigarette" was about the entirety of the lyrics. The slowburning "Redskin Panic", which stretches the band's boundaries in new directions, is a fantastic bit of work, but it does cost the band some of the dancers. Closer "Shitstorm" still had enough enthusiasm to carry the crowd along for the last lap.

Listen to a track from this set here.

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¹ If this isn't a Jandek song title, it should be.

² That surf beat is like MSG — you use it once, suddenly you feel like you need to have it in everything.

³ But don't let that scare you, my friend — let that liberate you! 'Cause when you're free flying with Terror Lake, man — what do you need a safety net for?