Showing posts with label kathleen phillips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kathleen phillips. Show all posts

Friday, May 20, 2011

Gig: One Hundred Dollars

One Hundred Dollars Trio (Kathleen Phillips / The Pining)

The Tranzac (Southern Cross Lounge). Friday, December 10, 2010.

Another fundraising show for The Tranzac, with a chance to hear some songs from one of my favourite bands in a stripped-down setting. The comfy Southern Cross room was set up theatre-style, with the tables moved out, leaving more room for chairs. With some people sitting cross-legged right in front of the band and a few standing back at the bar, there were about fifty people squeezed in to watch $100 playing in a trio format, with Simone Schmidt1 and Ian Russell joined by Stew Crookes on pedal steel.

Having Crookes on hand meant that while the sound was still spare, there was no shortage of atmosphere. Which was a good way to present a set packed with newer material, like the lead-off "If It Weren't For the Carnations". In fact, there was so much focus on the new stuff that, a few songs in, Schmidt was actually momentarily flustered in trying to remember the lyrics to the older "Forest of Tears", the title track of their first album. Once she was on track, though, she stepped right into the character of the song's angry protagonist, pacing the floor and stabbing her finger bitterly toward the forest.

The band had played that song in order to set up "Fires of Regret", a brand new one introduced as the sequel — a response from the point of view of the man who had abandoned the narrator in "Forest of Tears". It says something about the writerly investment that Schmidt makes in the characters in her songs that she feels compelled to go back and re-visit them, approaching their stories from different angles — that might explain why $100 have more "sequel songs" than most bands.2

Meanwhile, this was also a noteworthy occasion, as Schmidt made her guitar-playing debut, sporting a credible finger-picking style that will now stand as one more element for the band to draw on. "That was super weird," she laughed afterward, thanking the crowd for helping her along. That was followed by another brand-new song, "I Hate That Highway", Schmidt commenting, "we always say we don't write songs about the country, but this song's about the country" — or more specifically, the roads that lure the young generation away to the cities: "it's taken the best and brought the bad to town".

As usually happens at these events, there was warm appreciation given for the Tranzac, no surprise as Russell and Schmidt had played their formative gigs in this very room, a place where "you can masquerade a spoken word performance as a country concert and play to people that will listen to you". The set closed with a fine version of "Not For Me" that required a re-start, Schmidt admonishing herself for missing a line as well as the crowd for missing their cue to join in on the refrain of "don't lock me, don't lock me away". Once it got rolling again it all worked pretty magically.

A couple selections from this set: you can check out something brand new here or sing along to an old favourite here.

The night had been set up to begin with the headliner — all the better, we had been told, to get the heavy stuff out of the way first. There was still a dark undercurrent in a comedy set from Kathleen Phillips, but now in the service of a different sort of storytelling. Lacking a Christmas story of her own, Phillips borrowed the voice of Stuart McLean to tell a tale definitely not heard on the Vinyl Café. Taking on the "undead voice of Jimmy Stewart" — an exaggeration of her own slightly laconic speaking style — Phillips got McLean's tone and cadences and folksy asides just right in relating the tale of a rather macabre road-trip. Anyone who gets that slightly-queasy bizarro world feeling on hearing McLean's stories would find this to be a perfect corrective — and indeed, I thought it was rather brilliant. And, for an extra bit of disorienting frisson, after a few minutes, a weird organ drone drifted over from whatever show was going on over in the Main Hall, and it fit right in.

Closing things out was The Pining, a group I'd been meaning to see for awhile. There were a couple familiar faces in the lineup — I had seen Julie Faught, one of the main voices and songwriters here, as a frequent guest vocalist with Kids on TV, and I had seen violinist Mika Posen with Timbre Timber and Forest City Lovers (as well as collaborating with a whole bunch of other artists). But there was lots of talent to go around (and plenty of cowboy boots!) in a band a half-dozen deep. Despite the numbers, the sound was relatively uncluttered, leaving lots of room for some fabulous harmonies as the main element of their back-porch folk/country sound.

The members were joking back and forth with each other and clearly having a fun time, despite — or possibly because of — the sad songs they were playing. The set started with "Seed of Doubt" and didn't get much brighter from there. "Here's another upbeat number for you," was the introduction to "Cold Hearted Man". It was introduced as a cover and played as a spare, spooky lament, three singers trading off verses. It was only after the fact when I looked it up that I realized vocalist Emma Moss wasn't kidding when she shouted, "AC/DC!" at the end.

The tempo picked up with the sprightlier "Back Again", with drummer Dani Nash (who was playing with an stripped-down kit, with snares and no cymbals) took to the spoons for a song. Beyond that, there was more good stuff like "She's Gone", showing that the band could pull off both the slower songs and the more upbeat numbers with panache. After the closing pair of "Better Life" and "Call it Quits", the crowd was calling for one more, so the band invited everyone to sing along on a run through The Traveling Wilburys' "End of the Line" that was a little ramshackle but managed to stay on the rails.

Listen to a track from this set here.


1 Schmidt appears to have reverted back to using her government name from her previous alias of "Simone Fornow".

2 The first time I heard "Courting My Heartache", it was introduced as a sequel to "Black Gold".

Monday, February 21, 2011

Gig: Betty Burke

Betty Burke (The Phonemes / Kathleen Phillips)

The Imperial Pub Backroom. Thursday, October 21, 2010.

Out on a Thursday night to the cozy back room of the Imperial Pub on Dundas for a show put on by the good folks at 50 River. The series is the brainchild of musician/promoter Holly Andruchuk, who can be found greeting patrons at the door with a bright smile and saying, "thanks for supporting live music!" There's a genuine charm in the whole presentation, starting with the idea that rather than just giving the musicians a stage to play on, there's a curated experience, including knowlegable write-ups that you can check out to acquaint yourself with the musicians before coming down. In the sliver of the room, the tables are topped with tall candles stuck in empty liquor bottles as the occasional rumble of conversation from the regulars at the front bar occasionally wafts through the air.

Besides the two bands on this night, each set was preceded by some comedy from Kathleen Phillips, delivering her deadpan stylings in storytelling mode, the first set discussing the shortcomings of cats (the "nihilist unemployed poets" of the pet world) in her dry drawl. Entertaining stuff, not always taking things to the obvious destination.

That applies, too, to The Phonemes, centred around the always-joyful Magali Meagher with frequent co-conspirators Stephanie Markowitz and John Tielli (plus a nimble guitarist whose name I didn't catch). I hadn't seen 'em for almost a year, so it was interesting to see how some of the newer material, now feeling a little more lived in, has gotten fleshed out. "Vanishing Point" is as catchy and appealing as anything Meagher has penned while "Paper Planes" (not, um, to be confused with the M.I.A. song) dances and drifts like its namesake. Meagher mostly played guitar, but also moved over to the piano for one number.

And then for a special treat, the band was joined by Maggie MacDonald for a bilingual duet on the sprightly yé-yé tune "Cet air-là", most famously performed by France Gall. MacDonald sang in English in her own translation while Meagher sang the original French, their differing voices (brash1 and gentle, respectively) contrasting as much as the languages they were singing — but it all worked.

That would be the start of a series of guest stars that continued with Bobby Wiseman adding some piano to "Sunday Morning" and the members of Betty Burke adding percussion on "Steeples and People". Gentleman Reg, celebrating his birthday in a glittering pair of heels, came up for a sprightly version of "Pain Perdu". The Phonemes' off-kilter pop is always a good time and a chance for Meagher to give her friends something to sing about.

Listen to a track from this set here.

After another quick set from Kathleen Phillips (this time staying in grandmotherly character to tell a story about a weather-predicting dog) the show was switched over to an "AM Radio from a parallel dimension". That's the natural territory for Betty Burke, tellers of true stories. There had been some changes in the BB camp since I saw them last, with mainstay Maggie MacDonald now joined by Jo Snyder (guit) and Sheila Sampath (bass, keyboard). There were still echoes of the rootsy sound that Holly Andruchuk had provided while active in the band, but with an ipod providing drum machine beats the sound veered more towards new wave.2 MacDonald was dressed for that sound, too, rocking a Patti Smith look in a blazer and skinny tie.

The band is undoubtedly MacDonald's show, but there's room for her bandmates — one song, for example, featured Sampath's lead vox. And in the same community spirit as the Phonemes set, there was a series of friends and collaborators joining the band on stage. Sarianna Mileski sang lead vox on "The Prince" and there was another appearance from Gentleman Reg for a duet ("I can make you come, but I can't make you stay") which was followed by cake, everyone in the room joining in on "Happy Birthday". And besides those guests, there was also a visit from MacDonald's sunglasses-wearing alter ego Loni Lalonde. "I had to get rid of Maggie... she had too much impulse control," said Lalonde, a channelling of MacDonald's Cornwall days.

The stage was jammed full of people as the band closed it out with "El Dorado". Spirited throughout, the set had a celebratory vibe. Good fun — a band you should definitely check out.3


1 "I'm not a singer," Maggie commented at the outset, "but I am verbose."

2 Before one song, MacDonald gave praise to The Jesus and Mary Chain for their seminal historical influence in their use of drum machines, though interestingly the song that accompanied that comment owed at least as much to "Rivers of Babylon".

3 And, in fact, you have an excellent chance to do just that this Friday (February 25, 2010) at Holy Oak Cafe, where Betty Burke will be celebrating the release of their first EP. As a bonus, Evening Hymns are playing too.