Currente calamo: CMW 2013

CMW 2013^*

While these shows are fresh in my mind I want to get some quick notes down. There will eventually be a fuller accounting by and by.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

9 p.m.: DIANA @ Mod Club¹

Falling somewhere between club-level showcase and one of the big-ticket "event" shows that CMW attaches its name to for unearned cachet, my first sight at this show was of one of the city's more esteemed music writers being told by a functionary that because this was a "key" show — a designation that no one had previously heard of — photographers would not be allowed if if they weren't on a pre-cleared list. I guess at the last moment the international paparazzi didn't show up, and it was begrudgingly deigned that the locals could take their place.

Anyways, inside, there was a decent crowd on hand to check out DIANA. I'd last seen them at their very first live show and was curious to see how things were coming along. Given that their sonic identity was pretty well-established right out of the gate, I wasn't surprised that the changes here were more refinements than transformations. With a lot more miles under their belts (the band had just come off a string of dates opening for Tegan & Sara), everything was smoother on stage. Paul Mathew (on bass + guitar), who had been tucked away at the back in that first show, especially seemed more integrated into the group, now up front and flanking singer/guitarist Carmen Elle. Front and centre, her vocals remain the centre of attention here, but with the band's generally mellower stylings, she does sometimes look at a bit of a loss for how to channel her on-stage energy. While in her other project Army Girls², she's free to range across the stage, firing off guitar solos and rockstar poses, she paced around more tentatively here. It didn't affect her performance, but it did lend it a more contained vibe. Meanwhile Kieran Adams (drums) and Joseph Shabason (keybs/sax) masterminded the sonic textures.

It felt like the crowd was mostly unfamiliar with the band, but they were mostly willing to be impressed by the 80's-informed jams — Shabason's first sax solo garnered plenty murmurs of approval, though by the set's end there was a lot of background chatter building up. But this was good work, and the band is clearly prepared to start taking rooms by (quiet) storm.

10 p.m.: Chvrches @ Mod Club

This is the sort of act that festivals are useful for, as there's little chance I'd've gone out of my way to see something like this at a normal show. Glasgow's Chvrches have only a few released songs to go with a boatload of hype, though I came to this without having paid much attention to either. The drummerless trio presented with two sets of synthesizers (played by Iain Cook and Martin Doherty) flanking vocalist Lauren Mayberry. Launching with the electro-pop of "Lies", the initial impression was perhaps something like Ladytron covering Samantha Fox. Mayberry's vocal approach was generally light and airy, and the venue's big sound system provided the crunch via plenty dB's. The variations between songs mostly came on how far the band pushed them down the dance-y axis — my personal inclination had me enjoying things less the further they went in that direction. At it's furthest reaches down that path, it sounded like a bad dance remix of a Sundays tune.

All the bandmembers have served in other groups before this, and they were definitely seasoned stage performers, keeping the show moving. But they also weren't particularly engaging — as a frontwoman, Mayberry entertained with some chipper banter about Canada's contributions to the wider pop culture (she came up with Rush and Ryan Gosling) but didn't have much captivating to do during the songs. That was sort of taken care of for them at the set's climax when a cascade of bubbles sprayed across the audience, which seemed to surprise and delight Mayberry as much as anyone else.

I was neither overwhelmed nor underwhelmed by the set. (Does a straight-up "whelmed" count as a sort of state of generic neutrality?) I was mildly rankled to note that the club was well-packed for this with excited patrons who'd never bother to come out to any number of local dance-pop units who are generically as good as this, but I guess that's the way of things.³

Listen to a track from this set here.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

[I skipped CMW on Thursday to celebrate Spring with Wavelength instead.]

Friday, March 22, 2013

9 p.m.: Maica Mia @ The Silver Dollar Room

Friday was my one full-on night for CMW, but instead of roaming too far, I planned to mostly stick close to the Dollar. It had been a year since I saw Montréal duo Maica Mia, but they'd left a good impression and I was eager to see what they were up to. Playing a bar rather than a loft was probably one reason that they were louder than I remembered, with drummer Jonny Paradise giving the music some forward thrust. But Maica Armata's voice and guitar still had a languidness that defied any attempts at too much propulsion. The upshot was that the band was a bit more Picastro (and less Mazzy Star) than I recalled — but that's definitely not a complaint. Given how long Armata was willing to crouch in front of her amp holding a single chord, it would be very interesting to hear just how much they could stretch things out outside of the constraints of a short festival set. This reaffirmed that they're worth seeing whenever they venture down the 401 to visit us.

10 p.m.: Patti Cake @ Velvet Underground

My one excursion from the Dollar took me down to Queen Street to see a set that was a striking counterpoint to the glacial sombreness I'd just witnessed. Locals Patti Cake traffic in something closer to exuberance — or at least that's the spirit channelled by frontwoman Kritty Uranowski. The recent fashion cover model sings with a smile and a brassy tone that tugs the whole band into a more cheerful, kodachromed landscape. That fits with plenty touches of classic 60's songcraft — including a pair of swaying backing vocalists. But the retro flourishes were countered by some more modernist signifiers, including one song's paean to Lindsay Lohan. Most of the songs here were quite fab, and the overall spirit was bright and welcoming, just right for a sunny day.

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 p.m.: Filthy Haanz @ The Silver Dollar Room

I didn't see anything else on the schedule grid to call me further afield, so I simply ducked back up to the Dollar to see what was going down. Made it back just in time to catch the start of the set by Filthy Haanz, another Montréal combo. This trio would do a lot of switching around between instruments (bass, guitar and keyboards getting swapped around from song to song) and the music reflected that changeable spirit, moving from mildly angsty rock to squelchy funk to sluggish reggae. I think the band was aiming at a sort of insouciant loucheness, but they projected closer to slacker-ish dilettantism. There was a point or two where they settled into an appealing groove, but they were never quite as funky as they aspired to be.

Midnight: Invasions @ The Silver Dollar Room

These locals brought with them the night's largest crowd, and there was no doubt that the raucous crew of friends were out to dance and shout along. There was a lot of energy in the music, but it never quite worked for me. In one of those totally subjective reactions, guitarist Alex Zenkovich's vocals just didn't appeal, and while I could sense where they were trying to take their music beyond basic surf rock clichés, the parts that didn't sound like they were on the verge of becoming "Stray Cat Strut" seemed like they were on the verge of becoming "House of the Rising Sun". Those are hardly unworthy antecedents to chase after (and neither were the Kinks, whose "Dead End Street" was essayed here) but for now I wouldn't say the band has found a satisfactory synthesis. Still, you might prefer to trust the packed-in crowd jumping and singing along here to my notions.

1 a.m.: Xray Eyeballs @ The Silver Dollar Room

Most of that crowd departed before the night's headliner took the stage, though this was the band the I was basing my night around. Silver Dollar booker Dan Burke can usually be counted on to make a canny choice for his festival hat-trick headliners, and I was all the more interested to hear 'em on finding out they were an offshoot of reverb-surfers Golden Triangle.⁴ This band foregrounded singer/guitarist O.J. San Felipe, backed by bass, guit/keybs, and a stand-up drummer. Armed with a drumpad alongside his Mo Tucker-ish setup, that hybrid percussion sound brings to mind locals Odonis Odonis, and there are a few appealing points of comparison here in terms of scrappy catchiness. But if OO's surfgaze draws something from the Mary Chain, then Xray Eyeballs have more of a Martin Hannett/early New Order chassis underlying their party rock as well as some art in their rigourously stripped-down aesthetic. That intriguing mix of sounds was enough to have me enjoying this quite a lot.

Listen to a track from this set here.

2 a.m.: The BB Guns @ The Silver Dollar Room

I was starting to wear down, enough so that I was wondering if I should just head home and miss a band that I'd seen on this same stage just a couple weeks ago. But it's hard to slip out on The BB Guns right now, given how they've really hit their stride. The "girl group garage" gang (with their début EP on the way) are pretty confident in their balancing of sock-hop sass and punkish attitude. On stage, that split can be seen in the way guitarist Alana deVee (all kinetic verve) works alongside vocalist Laura Hermiston and keyboard player Charlotte Marie's slightly more demure presence. Playing near the end of a cavalcade of festival acts meant that the vocals were a little buried, so the whole set came out a little more rangy and fierce than usual — but that's a good way to keep people's attention as the hour grows late. This is a band that's thriving in the local dives while playing at a really high level right now — you should see 'em while the moment lasts.⁵

Saturday, March 23, 2013

7 p.m.: Giant Hand @ Cameron House (Back Room)

My Saturday night was devoted to the final Long Winter show at The Great Hall, but en route I stopped in for one last CMW set — it's always good to try and show support for the folks who get stuck with the early time slots. Kirk Ramsay has been "half hiding, half writing new music," and hasn't been manifesting as Giant Hand much in the past year. That also made this a chance to hear a few of his new songs. On a first hearing, they weren't radically removed from his previous material — the guy who famously decided to take up the guitar after seeing a Daniel Johnston documentary is still working in the same vein of mining internal/external dread and investigating the spaces where the two overlap. A song on the piano, played with one-handed, two-fingered clawed chords was a new touch and a demonstration that just as you don't need more than a flashlight held up to your chin to tell a horror story, you don't need ornate musical backdrops to tell a story in song. Hopefully the next sighting will not be so long in coming.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

^* A note on nomenclature: for years both the industry showcase and music festival components were known as Canadian Music Week. But as of 2009, this was deemed to be too simple and straightforward, and the music portion was "rebranded" as Canadian Music Fest, under the aegis of the larger Canadian Music Week. I see no reason to put up with this and will simply refer to everything as CMW.

¹ It has been a fair while since I've been to the Mod Club — in fact, I don't think I've been since they've had some corporate sponsor glommed onto the front of their name. I have no plans to acknowledge that, and unless said company is cutting you a cheque, I suggest you don't either.

² DIANA's recent success has meant things have been quiet in the Army Girls camp as of late, but there's some upcoming dates promised to make up for it. So far, the only one announced is a knock-out of a gig, with the band opening up (alongside Absolutely Free) for Moon King at The Drake Underground on Wednesday, April 10, 2013. Mark that one down as a must-see.

³ Anyone who wants to see some dance-y electronic musicians who are actively pushing things forward should come out for Silent Shout's showcase at The White House on Friday, April 19, 2013, featuring the peerless Tenderness and the rising force of Petra Glynt alongside Violence and Vierance. [FB event] And for those who are swept up in the hype, Chvrches have already announced their return on June 12, 2013.

⁴ Based on their various internet presences, it looks like Golden Triangle are definitely inactive, if not altogether defunct.

⁵ The BB Guns will be returning to the Dollar in support of Bleached on Thursday, April 25, 2013 — by which time we'll probably have clearer release details about their EP.

Gig: Ra Ra Riot

Ra Ra Riot

The Mod Club. Monday, August 30, 2010.

Well, I have to say that this was one that I was coming into as more of a casual enthusiast than a fan. I'd liked The Rhumb Line, the debut from Syracuse, NY-based six-piece Ra Ra Riot some when it came out, but it had really been more than a year since the band had crossed my mind in any capacity. Now hooked up with Arts & Crafts to handle the Canadian release of their second album, The Orchard, I was here to get a feel for how things have progressed.

This was a free show open to "contest winners", though in this case, I think that was more "people who sent an email before the guestlist reached capacity". A savvy bit of word-of-mouth marketing, attracting the band's most ardent fans as well as an unusually large chunk of the local music blogger infrastructure.

One oughtn't complain too much at a free show, but with no opener, the late start after the advertised time was a bit of a drag. But it was to a pretty enthusiastic full house that the band emerged to lead off with "St. Peter's Day Festival", from The Rhumb Line. As I said, I hadn't thought about the band at all for quite awhile, so my utterly unoriginal first thought was (pace the hipster dinosaurs), "man, they do sound like Vampire Weekend." And showing how little the first album had stuck with me, I didn't recall a lot of the older stuff, being unsure at the time just how much the of new album we were getting. The answer, for a CD-release gig, was less than one would have thought, and the band, despite being in front of as supportive a crowd as they'd be likely to find, seemed reluctant to pull themselves away from the older material. In fact, it wouldn't be until a half-hour in that the band ventured to play back-to-back songs from the new album.

There also wasn't a radical re-think in the band's musical approach — this isn't a raw rock'n'roll attack. "Mannered" would be more like it. Everything the band does keeps vocalist Wes Miles at the centre. His clear voice was high in the mix, and there wasn't much in the way of backing vocals — only cellist Alexandra Lawn had a mic, and she was kept fairly low. Miles' vox were buoyed up by a lush bed of sound that included two string players on stage. It was also a controlled sound — drummer Gabriel Duquette playing to a click track for most of the show.

A lot of the new stuff had a similar-but-less-inspired vibe, such as "Foolish" with some 80's-styled keybs. But the music was unfailingly pleasant, and the band did manage to generate some nice momentum, with "Boy" ending on a quiet cello line that was a segue into "Each Year".

During the set, Miles was cheerful between songs but not too chatty, issuing a reeled-off list of thanks several times that sounded more like talking points than banter. Along with the music, that might be seen as evidence of a certain roteness from the band, though it could also just be down to the band getting used to playing these new songs and letting their own identities come out more strongly. But it's perhaps telling that the set-closing showstopper was still the first album hit "Dying Is Fine" — and the encore song was one from the old album too.

Say what you will about the band — I wasn't blown away or really moved to grab the new album — I do absolutely love Arts & Crafts' continuing commitment to integrating their music into the community with free album release shows and the like. A&C gets blowback in some quarters for being too big for their britches, but by and large they have an admirable track record with shows like this one.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Gig: Hercules & Love Affair

Hercules & Love Affair (Trust)

The Mod Club. Monday, July 26, 2010.

A strange sort of show for me to head out for on a Monday night — or at all, maybe. I am, after all, not a noted go-out-to-dance sort. But I do have this sort of informal guideline that maybe one out of every fifty shows I go to should be, like, body music instead of, y'know, all that chin-stroking stuff. Just to give me a reminder of some certain basic elemental things that I tend to lose sight of all too easily. And it helps when it's dance-centred music that I can appreciate on a pop level.

The early arrivers on hand as I entered the room skewed older — inneresting, as I had no idea who the crowd for this was going to be. Unsurprisingly, though, the older/mellow/early crowd would be supplemented by the younger/fabulous/fashionably late types as the night went on. There were couples of all descriptions, and if you were going to pick one label to describe the crowd it might be Vazaleen-esque.

Tapped to open things up were locals Trust, playing with a 50% larger lineup than when I saw them at NXNE, with core duo Robert Alfons and Maya Postepski joined by Susan Gale on extra percussion and keyb work. Their gear was pushed right to the front of the stage, with the headliner's giant-sized DJ table behind them, probably putting the band a bit closer to the crowd than they'd be of their own volition. Trust's natural habitat would likely be further back, and if there were dim lights and a bank of fog machines to add some murk to the surroundings, I bet they'd be cool with that as well. But even if their music has a darker undertone (and less need for the Mod Club's potentially-blinding lightshow) than the evening's headliners, this was a good pick for the support slot, getting the band out in front of a crowd eager for something to dance to.

At the start, there were just a few enthusiasts and friends up front, but the band grabbed the crowd's attention. The front of the floor quickly filled up, though people weren't yet dancing quite as much as you might expect, even with the propulsive beats (Postepski's live drums augmenting the rhythm tracks) and the heavy shaking bass that the room's sound system was built for.

Having the third member on stage freed Alfons from his keyboard and allowed him to focus on singing. That doesn't mean he was leaping around or anything — brooding intensity was more his style. Postepski, meanwhile, couldn't hide an ebullient smile while she bobbed across the stage from her drum kit to play the keybs. Still, the stage demeanour overall echoed the music's icy edge, with not even a smidge of banter coming from the band.

Once again, I was impressed with Trust. Even moreso, in fact, with the band showing some rapid development in the short time since I'd seen 'em last.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Meanwhile, as Trust's gear was cleared away and that big table of DJ gear was moved up the floor continued to fill with people eager for Hercules & Love Affair. This would arguably be more of a show for fans, untied to the promotion of a still-gestating new album (the forthcoming Blue Songs, due at the end of January). Eventually, the crew hit the stage about twenty to midnight, band founder Andy Butler leading with a heartfelt appreciation for Toronto and a dedication ("tonight we're gonna dance for Will!") to late DJ Will Munro, whose let's-all-have-fun-together inclusive queer aesthetic was a perfect match for a band like H&LA. With a statement of place and purpose, the set's first song chanted "G-A-Y! N-Y-C!" and the crowd howled and started dancing along.

There was a lot of new material in the long mix-style segments of the set, starting with a twenty-five minute suite focusing on some of the band's hookiest pop material, like the new "Falling", a disco-fied retelling of the Theseus story ("I'm Falling / and I'm Free") that left a strong impression. There was some more familiar material from the first album in there, too, like a tasty "Athene", before the first salvo closed with "Raise Me Up". Which did.

And then a break to introduce the band, now with three vocalists up front — recent addition Aerea Negrot joining Kim Ann Foxman and Shaun Wright. Keeping things moving, they mostly kept attention away from Butler and Mark Pistel on the mix behind them. The second segment led off with "Wonder Woman" ¹, followed by "Painted Eyes" ("how do you make forever?/ how do you know always?") which had a ripping electric piano line and disco strings. But those would just be the warm up for the "get nasty" part of the show, with the beats taking more precedence and songs stretching out. Revealing some careful setlist construction, the songs in this lap were less pop-oriented, revolving around more straightforward chants and stripped-down lyrics — one mostly just asked "do you want me?" and another simply informed us "it's time to jump". By this time, the venue was so hot and sweaty, filled with moving bodies bouncing off each other, that more complicated sentiments weren't necessary.

And then the most energized straightforward rompers eased off into stuff like "My House" — the sort of song that would have had a vocal contribution from Antony on the first album, but here well-handled by Shaun Wright. In fact, that segued into first album standout "Blind", with Wright again handling what had originally been Anothy's part. The set ended with "You Belong", which uses that classic trick of combining a radiant disco vibe with a lyric that isn't as upbeat as it might at first appear. The song isn't generically saying "you belong" — the chorus is in fact lamenting "you belong to him tonight". And continuing the thread of disco classicism, coming back for an encore, Butler made another dedication to Will Munro, noting, "I'm sure Will had this record in his collection" as the band launched into a cover of Ganymed's "It Takes Me Higher".²

All told, the band was on for nearly ninety minutes, and I felt pretty exhausted afterward. A rewarding show that exceeded my expectations. I'd appreciated H&LA's album as a pop artifact more than as a source of danciness, but here, not only was the dance imperative foregrounded and given urgency, it was impressive to see how this totally succeeded as a live enterprise, something that dance-oriented units can't always pull off.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

¹ I've found this one ("Jupiter, Saturn, Venus, Mars / Where do I come from?") identified as such online, though it doesn't appear to be slated for the new album, so I'm unsure of its provenance.

² I admittedly had to do some digging to figure out this one, but the original is rather worth hearing.

NXNE 2010: Thursday (Part 1)

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2010.

Thursday, June 17, 2010. Featuring: Imaginary Cities, Young Galaxy, The Besnard Lakes

7 P.M.: Imaginary Cities @ The Mod Club

Into the Mod Club just a tick before seven o'clock. Pretty quiet inside for the early show.¹ I wasn't here to see Imaginary Cities so much as because there weren't a lot of other options at this hour. And anyways, this was where I wanted to be later on.

Imaginary Cities, taking the stage at seven sharp, turned out to have a familiar face in Rusty Matyas (of Winnipeg rockers The Waking Eyes, and recently passing through town as a touring member of The Weakerthans), who had formed the band in partnership with singer Marti Sarbit. Some supplemental reading informs that the band came together after the pair bonded over some classic soul covers, and that influence comes out strongly in Sarbit's vocals. But the band isn't merely some sort of Motown revival vehicle — the sound was generally soulful, but without resorting to over-the-top signifiers. Maybe call it "trucker hat soul", after the most popular headgear on stage. They did take from their R&B influences a likable penchant for quick, punchy songs — the band packed eight in their half-hour set — but there were also a lot of other things in the mix. "Calm Before the Storm", for example, simmered nicely in almost a trip-hop way, featuring Matyas' agreeable trumpet at the end.

Sarbit was more than a capable vocalist, animating the songs without overdoing it. And the band — still a fairly new unit — were competent, growing towards the end of the set towards more of a big guitar rock sound.² Given the vox and musical performance, it felt like the material was the weakest link, as the songs didn't really stick with me. There's a solid base here, so let's propose that there's still room for growth. And in the meantime, they were fun enough to listen to.³

Listen to a song from this set here.

8 P.M.: Young Galaxy @ The Mod Club

Things were now filling in pretty well for what would be an extraordinarily loud set from Young Galaxy.⁴

Besides the volume, the band also had some Electric Company-ish animated projections behind them. All of which is suitable, as this is a band whose musical vision implies some spectacle. Singer/keyb player Catherine McCandless certainly knows this, and brought a sequin-y dress and some dramatic, back-lit gestures to accompany her vocals, which have arguably become the best thing about the Montréal-based band.

The set started off with "Invisible Republic" which segued into "Sister", one of the highlights from last year's top-notch Invisible Republic.⁵ "Come and See" was dedicated to The Besnard Lakes⁶ — that and set-closer "The Alchemy Between Us" would be the only selections in the set from the band's self-titled debut. "Long Live the Fallen World" ended with a lively raveup while the band also debuted a new song, "We Have Everything", a mid-tempo number with lead vox from McCandless that would fall more towards the "pop" end of the band's spectrum. An interesting number, but it felt like it was building towards a chorus that wasn't there.

A solid set, which might sound like faint praise, save for the fact that I was underwhelmed the last time I saw 'em and was glad to see a stronger spark here. Once again I kinda had that sense that there wasn't that same on-stage excellence that had first won me over to the band. On the other hand, if Young Galaxy have reached the point where they're more impressive in the studio than on the stage, I'd take that, given the high level that they're at there. Word is the band is striking while the iron is hot, with their third album slated for release early next year, and I am looking forward to that.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 P.M.: The Besnard Lakes @ The Mod Club

After that chest-shaking set, I was wondering how loud The Besnard Lakes — a band known to like their volume — was going to be. The band, just by virtue of their milieu, tend to get labelled "indie rock", but sonically they're pure stadium-sized classic rock, more suited to an FM station playing full album sides than to a playlist. Singer/guitarist Jace Lasek certainly courts these kinds of associations, rocking a look that falls somewhere between Ian Hunter in 1973 and Chicago pitcher Steve Trout.⁷ There's also a certain Devil's Boogaloo Ball vibe that the band likes to invoke, including the use of a rather large amount of dry ice, which filled the stage to the intoning voice of Carl Sagan's Cosmos as the band took the stage. They started with an unrushed Floyd-ian intro to "Like The Ocean, Like The Innocent" (the leadoff track to this year's ... Are the Roaring Night) which segued into "Devastation", with Olga Goreas — who had emerged onto the stage wearing devil horns — on lead vocals.

The set was pretty focused on the new album, only reaching back for "Disaster" and the tasty "And You Lied To Me" (from 2007's breakthrough ...Are the Dark Horse) nearly an hour into the set. In fact, we might not have even gotten those, save for the fact that the headliners weren't getting the regular showcase half-hour-ish NXNE set. This seemed to surprise Lasek as much as anyone else, as he asked between songs "we don't have to stop at 9:40?" Told they could keep going, Lasek promptly promised a three-hour set, and the band celebrated by playing "Chicago Train", which wasn't in their setlist. Lush and downtempo over its first half, one could see why this might not make it into the compact set, but it was a nice change of pace here. The best one-two punch came with single "Albatross" followed up by "And This Is What We Call Progress", which had a pleasingly evil undertow to its groove. All told, the band actually played seventy minutes, and that included a one-song encore of "Land of Living Skies".

A satisfying set, and a nice reminder. It had been quite awhile since I'd paid any attention to the band, their new one slipping past me for one reason or another, so there was a sense of rediscovery. It didn't make me fall in love with them or anything — I'm still more of a casual admirer than a fan. I can dig the powerful volume and the bombast, but that's not something I'm looking for all the time. Jace Lasek's falsetto even less so. But still, the band do what they do exceedingly well, and deserve all the success that they're finding.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

¹ Although as the opening band, Imaginary Cities didn't get as much of an audience to impress, the uncrowded area in front of the stage and the venue's bazillion-watt lighting rig meant that it was open season for photographers, who were out in force for this set. So if nothing else, this should be a particularly well-documented show for the band.

² Although the keybs could have been notched up higher in the mix.

³ For those who would like to check 'em out for themselves, the band has a couple local dates coming up: October 5 at The Dakota (with Peter Elkas) and October 7 at The Horseshoe.

⁴ Seriously — when the The Mod Club start getting so loud? There comes a point of diminishing returns for so much volume — and, frankly, something of a public health risk, even for patrons wearing ear plugs, which, fortunately at this show, I noticed many were.

⁵ The would-be title track, it should be noted, is not from the album, but rather from the follow-up digital No Art EP.

⁶ The two bands are frequent touring partners, and Besnard Lakes frontman Jace Lasek has done production work on both of Young Galaxy's albums.

⁷ Not, however, that the band aren't any sort of devout recreationists of past sounds. Lasek also had a laptop close at hand to run some sound manipulations, to give one example.

Gig: Islands

Islands (Gregory Pepper and His Problems / Toro Y Moi)

Mod Club. Saturday, November 7, 2009.

On a Saturday night that I already had a gig to go to, made a last-minute-ish decision to double up on the evening and take in the early-doors Mod Club show. Not that I was overwhelmingly enthused to go see Islands — I'd already not seen 'em once this summer, and for free to boot. In fact, I was almost entirely there for the opener, Jemina Pearl, ex of beloved food fight/zombie beach party rockers Be Your Own Pet.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyways, long story short, I get there just before the 6:30 starting time, peruse the scene, and get this hinky feeling when three dudes take the stage. Not what I was expecting. When they introduced themselves as Gregory Pepper and His Problems, I was feeling a bit miffed. Not in the most neutral frame of mind to try and enjoy them instead of the opener I was expecting, but their own qualities didn't make that any easier. Billing themselves on their myspace as writing "dumb, catchy songs" I can at least say that's half right. When Eddie Murphy is who you're cribbing lyrics from/paying homage to ("My girl wants to party all the time") then maybe it's time for a re-think. I'm a firm believer in the wisdom of David St. Hubbins' remark about the fine line between clever and stupid¹ and this band simply fell on the wrong side. Faux classic rock grandiousity and an "ironic" lyrical sentiment — mostly reminiscent of the sort of band majors tried to market via mersh radio in the middle-late nineties. I could go on in this vein, but I shan't. Best to take a deep breath and move on.

After that, I figured most anything'd seem like a relief. So I tried to put on a brave face for Toro Y Moi, playing a one-man show with laptop and keyb. A 23-year-old out of South Carolina, Chaz did show musical range, building up from swirly loop-pop to dancier stuff, but none of it particularly struck me.

Which left me in a not-particularly-warmed-up state for Islands, with whom I'd gotten pretty severely out of touch with. I'd seen them touring their first album back in '06, opening for Metric², but the soggy, proggy lump of follow-up Arm's Way had severely turned me off. I'd passingly heard that there'd been a re-think and an essentially new band this time round. So, open mind, deep breath, etc. etc.

Nick Thorburn came out in oversized sunglasses and a silver-spangled cape, playing every inch the conquering space lord from a sci-fi b-movie. He was flanked by a pair of musicians, switching off between guit, bass and keybs who also looked as if their stage wear was inspired by Plan 9 From Outer Space. I squinted, trying to place them, until I realized that they were Geordie and Evan Gordon of The Magic. The band was completed by prodigal drummer Jamie Thompson — not wearing anything that sparkled — making for a full roster on the stage with no small amount of pop savvy. Playing the last show of their tour, the band didn't seem worn out and eager to be done — rather, we got the band in that "smoothly-oiled machine" phase.

The set started with four tracks from Vapours, establishing the new direction, and my immediate reaction was that going glam was a good move for this band. "No You Don’t" was particularly winning. The setlist mixed it up a bit more after that, with Arm's Way's "Creeper" actually fitting in quite nicely. There were a couple from the first album ("Where There's a Will There's a Whalebone" and "Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby") interspersed among the new stuff. There were some nice textures in play like the Bowie-in-Berlin icy keybs³ of "On Foreigner" — not, it would seem, a discourse about Lou Gramm. Not everything was a smash — Vapours track "Heart Beat" felt like one trip too many to the same well of inspiration, and "The Arm" is still a little too ponderous for my taste. And towards the end, when Thorburn pulled out his falsetto, I blanked out a bit. But rather effective overall. Not surprisingly, "Rough Gem", in its clap-along live finery led off the encore and it all ended — right back at the beginning — with "Swans (Life After Death)".

So, given that I'd come in with pretty low expectations for Islands, I can easily say they were exceeded. Definitely some good stuff amongst the new material and Thorburn had far more stage presence than I remembered. After the disappointment of the opening act switcheroo, I managed at least to leave feeling like the night had scrapped its way back to a draw.⁴ And out in good time to head the my main gig of the night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

¹ He asserted that there was one.

² A show I mostly remember for being stuck behind a sold wall of mean-looking teenage girls who were smoking furiously.

³ Or, possibly inspired by Real Life's "Send Me an Angel", which could be seen as a bit of a Rosetta Stone to decode the sound of much of the new material. Oh man, did my sister ever listen to that song a lot in 1983 — it's branded in my neocortex. And I forgot how hilarious that video was — scarves! electronic drums! maidens in distress! the wolfman! Still — guit solo aside — fabulous track.

⁴ And just as a postscript, I sent a note to the promoters after the fact and was satisfied with their response — apparently they were as blindsided by the change as anyone else.

Gig: Amy Millan

Amy Millan / Bahamas

The Mod Club. Wednesday, October 14, 2009.

I was a bit sad that other engagements kept me from going to see Amy Millan at the Harbourfront in July — her previous turn there in the summer of '06 was a fondly-remembered show. So it was pleasing that a club gig came along to make up for it. Thus found myself in a pleasantly full Mod Club on a Wednesday night.

Looking back over the crowd, H. adroitly commented, "these are the people who don't go to gigs every week." It was also a more female-skewing crowd than I'm used to, clumps of women out together and the occasional glazed-eyed guys with that dragged-along look — sorta the inverse of most gigs. Which, from a behavioural standpoint, is totally fine by me: even if there were more people around me singing along during the main set, there was a paucity of belligerent doofuses.¹

Opening things up was Bahamas, current nom de geurre of Afie Jurvanen, mostly familiar these past few years as a sideman to a who's who of the local rock scene, including a substantial stint in Feist's touring band. Last time I'd seen him up front was a while back — August 2005, with his old crew Paso Mino, opening for Jason Collett on a night they were also serving as his backing band — and, strangely enough, in this same venue. To be honest, my opinion at the time was that as a frontman he made a good touring guitarist, and besides seeing him now-and-again in other people's bands, I hadn't given much thought to his own stuff 'til some good notices started appearing for his Pink Strat alb.²

Playing solo (though apparently these days he's usually backed by a drummer), Jurvanen had his mellow on — loose and chatty in a slightly blazed-out "niiiiiice" kind of way as he played a forty-minute set of classical singer-songwriter hurtin'-on-the-inside, poppy-on-the outside songs. His lyrical sense is sorta maudlin, but in a self-knowing way that allows him to undercut it with humour, which also came out in his amusing chatty commentary between songs. He was appreciative, surveying the quietly respectful, female-heavy crowd: "Normally I play at these roadhouses at Dundas and Ossington, where all these skinny jeans hang out, just drinking their Jägerbombs and shit... this is nice!" It was, on the whole, a winning set, even if a bit goofy, demonstrating that Jurvanen has progressed a fair chunk in his songwriting and presentation — obviously he's picked up a thing or two from the people he's been working with.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Having given a few spins through Masters of the Burial, Amy Millan's new album, I was left with a pleasant but indistinct impression — as if afterwards I realized I'd enjoyed something, but I was rather fuzzy on the details. I was curious to see if some live energy would sharpen my impressions any. The band entered onto a stage decorated with roses heaped across a keyboard and littered across the floor, opening with "Some Day", a gospel bluegrass mourning song, and a dedication to Doug Campbell, before easing into "Old Perfume", complete with dual trombone accompaniment. The band's sound was, unsurprisingly, warm and rootsy — more acoustic than electric. There was a drum kit on the stage, but it sat unused for most songs, one band member or another rotating back there as necessary. It was pretty much an all-star band, the same crew that'd worked on her album, including Dan Whiteley (masterful mandolin and guit), Christine Bougie (lap steel, some drums), Darcey Yates (bass) and Doug Tielli (banjo, guit, keyb).

Millan seemed to be rising to her opener's challenge, boosting her onstage banter and throwing in several amusing monologues in between songs, sometimes even overshadowing them. A story about her grandmother's infidelities illustrated "Lost Compass" and brought the song's conclusion ("love is shady") into relief, and yet the story was still the more interesting part. I must confess that at a couple points Gene Siskel's maxim³ crossed my mind — were these songs, in fact, better than the banter in between them? In terms of the vibe of the whole night, the music felt, at a couple points, almost extraneous. But those were transitory feelings, and in the end the music mostly paid its freight as well. There were several good performances here including particularly strong readings of "Baby I", "Bury This" and "Towers".

Unsurprisingly, the crowd went up in a roar when Feist popped out for some backing vox on "Bruised Ghosts" to close out the set, hamming it up on stage, and grinding up to Millan with a rose in between her teeth. A high-energy burst of excitement to end the main set. After, the crowd was soothed with a solo mandolin instrumental number by Dan Whiteley, filled with fast pickin' and lightning runs, before Millan and band re-emerged and played "Skinny Boy", the song that the crowd had been shouting out the most by name. The night ended on "Day to Day", perhaps Masters' outstanding track, just voice and a spare drum beat supplied by Evan Cranley. So that's a lot of ground covered: sixteen songs and a fair bit of banter, and all packed into sixty-five minutes. Perhaps ultimately, my reaction to the show was similar to how I felt about the album — enjoyable in a non-specific, not-overwhelming way.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

¹ The flipside of that, though, is that in this kind of crowd I feel like there's a greater chance that I'm the obstacle blocking someone else's view of the show.

² For the record, the titular guitar was not in evidence on this night.

³ "I always ask myself, 'Is the movie that I am watching as interesting as a documentary of the same actors having lunch together?'".

Gig: Glasvegas / Von Iva

Glasvegas / Von Iva

The Mod Club. Friday, April 2, 2009.

A cruddy rainy day out, but it was the first rainy day that had the earthworms out wriggling on the sidewalk — signs of spring, signs of spring. Had a vicious headache earlier in the day, but it was cleared out by the time I was wandering down College, making my way to the Mod Club for an early show. At the door, security was reminding everyone that the band preferred people not use flash photography, which seems totally reasonable to me. Arriving a few minutes behind me, the lads showed up in impressively early time, enough to grab a drink and a spot on the floor as opening act Von Iva were coming out.¹

Knowing nothing about them besides an encouraging wikipedia description as an "an all-girl electro soul-punk group", I had no particular expectations, but found them to be a totally entertaining time. They were a somewhat non-obvious choice to be opening for Glasvegas², as frontwoman Jillian Iva acknowledged, saying, "we left our guitars back home with our penises." Faced at the outset with a small and generally indifferent audience, the band threw themselves into their work admirably. Iva turned out to be a naturally magnetic and physically assertive performer, stepping up onto the bass drum (in heels, no less!) and down into the crowd to try and get people moving and paying attention. They had some good tunes, and a fun sound: sort of a fusion of the synth-y elements of Ladytron with the soulful parts of The Gossip, with a DIY edge and an '80's twist.³ The reaction seemed to grow as their set wore on, partially because the place was filling up rapidly, but they did seem to break through with some of screwface anglophiles. High marks: I thought they were fully entertaining and picked up a CD from the merch table.

And then the between-sets waiting, filled with mood-setting Back to Mono tunes (I recall "Pretty Little Angel Eyes" and a few more of its ilk) and the roadies coming out to tune, and then re-tune the guitars. Enough time to get the crowd, now pretty well packed in, howling with anticipation, building to a roar as the band took the stage.

I think in T.O. a band like Glasvegas are going to be welcomed as heroes, so it was to no surprise that the opening strains of "Geraldine" were met with great delight. For my part, I found the sound to be frustratingly muddy, especially for the first two-three songs, where the guitars couldn't rise about the rhythm section, and James Allan's vocals were buried a bit as well.⁴ Even once the sound cleared up somewhat, I was mildly frustrated by the fact that it all seemed, well, too polite — a bit rote and something of a replication of the album.⁵ This is clearly one of those situations where the source of the frustration is with me, that the band doesn't live up to my idea of what would push them from proficient to transcendent. But it seems to me that Rab Allan's lead guitar is far too contained — what should be a squall of noise bleeding on top of everything else was reduced to a polite roar. I'd found the record to be too "pop" in that manner and had simply assumed that the band, with the rep for a more woolly live sound, would really unshackle themselves on stage. But again, that's me. The crowd, on the other hand, was clearly loving it. It'll be interesting to see where the band goes from here — if the songwriting holds up, this contained sort of wildness could lead the band to big places.

For my money, it was only in "Go Square Go", the last song of their main set, that I really felt it, and that was because all of the questions of how relatively ferocious the guitars should sound were swept aside by the excitement of the singalong's "here we, here we, here we fucking go!". Similarly, the encore's "Daddy's Gone" worked on the same level, where the band could simply drop out and let the crowd take over.

Mixed results, then. The band were energetic but not strikingly dynamic, and they were faithful to their recorded output but didn't really add to it. This isn't going to make me rave about the live show, but I'm sure it'll serve them well — as we departed, J. and The Scotsman (both the type who would be liable to burst out with a "Square go, then?" even if not prompted by a song) kept bursting into one chorus or another as we made our way back up College, looking for a place to enjoy a drink after the show's early end.

---

¹ In one of those random things that make an impression, I dug the fact that on the backs of one of their keybs were three masking tape question marks.

² The sole point of overlap between the bands seemed to be that Von Iva's drummer, Kelly Harris, stood up to hammer the skins for a few songs, in the manner of Glasvegas' Caroline McKay. She also looked like she could have out arm-wrestled any of the members of Glasvegas, so perhaps they won the slot through some sort of bar-room challenge.

³ On a couple songs, one slow-burning number especially, keyb player Rebecca Kupersmith's Nord seemed to have the "Fairlight/John Hughes soundtrack" setting fully engaged.

⁴ James (looking not so much like Joe Strummer as if, perhaps, one had gotten a young John Cusack to play Joe Strummer) was clad at first in a black leather jacket, later shucked to reveal a sleeveless shirt with large physique-revealing arm holes. He revealed a great rock'n'roll presence, with an understated charisma that implied volumes with small gestures: no grand thank-yous to the crowd would be as expressive as the way he'd tap his chest after a song and nod, his eyes still expressing a sort of wonder that all these people were shouting his choruses back to him. In that sort of unaffected sincerity he did seem to be projecting St. Joe, a little.

⁵ Even the overwrought introduction and coda to the otherwise excellent "Flowers & Football Tops" was maintained in its stage incarnation. While seeing Distant Voices, Still Lives a couple months ago sort of reconciled me to the idea of the song's incorporation of "You Are My Sunshine" — that, somewhere in a pub in Edinburgh there could be a mum bursting forth in song just like this to mourn for her lost son — it still feels, at the end, a bit extraneous.