NXNE 2010: Friday (Part 2)

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2010.

Friday, June 18, 2010. Featuring: The Soft Pack, Revolvers, The Schomberg Fair

Midnight: The Soft Pack @ The Garrison

Walked up to the The Garrison from Queen, and got there just a couple minutes past midnight. I'd been vaguely worried about capacity/lineup problems — this was another buzz-y band — but although the room was pretty full (and quite sauna-like), I still managed to get in and work my away up the far edge of the room to get a decent vantage point.

I'd been hearing good things about The Soft Pack, out of San Diego, for a couple years now, stretching back to when they were known as The Muslims, but in the band overload environment we're in, I'd never really investigated them. As I settled in, they were just starting up with opener "Pull Out", stand-up drummer Brian Hill's straightahead Mo Tucker beats driving things along. Added to those crazy rhythms were the Feelies-like textures of "More or Less", which was pressing all the right buttons for me. I'm a total sucker for anything third-handedly Velvetish — and, hell, this might even be genuinely second-handedly Velvetish. The band quickly settled into some propulsive, guitar-driven garage rock, more concerned with rhythmic interaction than flash or noise. One is tempted to call Matt Lamkin's vocal delivery a bit pedestrian, but I think that would miss the point, as the pleasure of the band's music is textural in a I-can-dance-to-this-some kinda way. Which also excuses a sound that some might find a bit too consistent.

There were, however, a few songs that mixed up the formula enough to keep things from getting too same-y, like the mid-tempo "Mexico", with slide guitar and a melodic bassline from David Lantzman, which felt like a ballad after the rollicking songs before it. And the highly satisfying "Bright Side" (from one of their early singles) had a big singalong hook, bringing to the fore an overt poppish side that is pushed aside in some of the other tunes. Otherwise, there was a lot from their self-titled debut album.¹ With one song left, the band made the best of it, stretching out for a nine-minutes rave-up run through new single "Gagdad" (with a catchy refrain of "I Can Tell") that sent them out in style.² Not a flashy band, but very worthy for those who like that steady rhythm sound and a beat you can dance to.

Listen to a track from this set here.

circa 1:25 a.m.: Revolvers @ Rancho Relaxo

And that took care of my list of "must sees" on the night. With no particular rush to get anywhere, walked up towards the College/Spadina nexus, figuring I'd make up my mind on the fly once I was closer to some options. Walked past the El Mo, where Golden Dogs were playing, and looking in from the street, it looked like a big crowd having a sweaty fun time, but I didn't feel like trying to squeeze in up front to catch the end of it. I kept moving and ended up at Rancho, where things must have been running a bit behind schedule, as I ended catching about twenty minutes from Revolvers. Unplanned, but a good result — I hadn't caught them since last summer when they were celebrating the release of Apocalypse Surfin', their promising debut album.³

As I came up the stairs to the venue, the band were playing "Break it Loose", the album's opening track and and possibly their best — a proper little Nugget of garage-psych goodness. Which might make them sound like just another band in a pretty crowded field, although Revolvers do have their own distinct niche. They play with a controlled restraint that some similar bands plow right past — even though their live attack is a bit rawer than the presentation on the album, these guys aren't kicking over microphone stands or bathing their songs in random feedback bursts. Plus, their rawk attack contains no small does of the blues. It works well when they get the balance right, such as on an extended ramble through "Cadillac 21", which fuses the Velvets' "Run Run Run" with something like a Chess sound. There were also a couple songs that aren't on the album, so it sounds like the band is still working on new twists to their sound.

Listen to a track from this set here.

2:10 a.m.: The Schomberg Fair @ Rancho Relaxo

Stuck around to catch another local act, one that I've been meaning to check out for awhile but had never crossed paths with. The Schomberg Fair, with a couple albums under their belts, are well-loved in some corners of this town and have a rep for a blistering live show. They're not the first to attack traditional song-forms (and traditional songs) with energy and velocity, but they do so with such zeal that the tag "speed gospel" has stuck with them. The songs operated like a cart careening down a steep hill — a giddy ride that feels dangerously fast at times.

Vocalist Matt Bahen (switching off between banjo and guitar) was backed by the bullfrog roar of bassist Nathan Sidon (his croak is one of the band's more distinctive elements, and might be a bit of a deal-breaker for some), with drummer Pete Garthside holding it all together. The switching off of lead instruments gave the songs different characters — "Poor Me" had some roaring guitar power. "Take Me to The Water" had a menacing throb that didn't offer any of the redemption promised in Nina Simone's song of the same name, but the the theme was continued with the following song, the traditional "Wade in the Water". Mixed in with their original tunes (including a new one called "Orphan Bones"), the band kept mixing in covers like Blind Willie Johnson's "Trouble Will Soon Be Over".

Sometimes the fast stuff was a bit too much of a clattering rush for my taste — I liked it better when they slowed down on "Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down" (familiar to some from Uncle Tupelo's version), with stomping gospel intensity and howls of feedback. But the uptempo stuff was well-received by the heaving, sweaty crowd in front of the stage. Entertaining, but for a band that's so concerned with redemption (or its opposite), I felt somewhat agnostic — though not unwilling to wade back into the river on another occasion.

Listen to a track from this set here.

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¹ I subsequently picked this up on the strength of this set and have been enjoying it quite a lot. Recommended.

² This one is available as a free download over at RCRD LBL.

³ Word on the street is that the album will soon be getting a vinyl re-up on Optical Sounds.

Gig: CMW 2010 (Wednesday)

CMW 2010^* (Wednesday) (feat. Lee's Palace line-up, Ace Kinkaid, Pick a Piper)

Wednesday, March 10, 2010.

CMW is weird. Ostensibly "the single longest running and premier conference focusing on the business of Music", it is, at its heart, an industry event. And as such, its self-image is that of the remaining vestiges of the failing Music Industry, trying to find new widgets to replicate the bottom-line padding of past widgets. This is how CMW sees itself — if you haven't watched this already, you really need to do so to really absorb its particular manner of awesomeness:

This video is pretty far from my experience. From my perspective, it's just a chance to see a large number of bands, crammed together in close proximity of space and time, and I mostly get to ignore that weird mersh side of things.

8 P.M.: "Bonfire Ball" line-up @ Lee's Palace

Anyways, for Wednesday night, I kinda wanted to ease into things. Though there was a fairly full slate of showcases going on, I knew I'd be doing a whole lot of venue-hopping over the next nights, so at the outset I figured I'd be fine sticking to one thing. There were a couple appealing shows going down, but I was most interested in checking out the Bonfire Ball, with Jason Collett, Bahamas and Zeus (who I'd just seen rockin' out at Soundscapes) sharing the stage revue-style and backing each other. Given that it wasn't listed as a "limited wristbands" event, I figured if I got there early there should be no problem getting in.

Whoops. Rolled up minutes before the eight o'clock doors to find a line stretching several storefronts down from Lee's with folks vying to get into what was evidently quite a hot ticket. It turned out to be a rather poorly-planned event, with the doors not opening anywhere near when they were supposed to, followed by a slowly-crawling line as people were being let in. Or, rather, two lines, blocking the whole of the sidewalk to passers-by, with organizers separating out ticket-holders to get them inside first, before dealing with wristbands. This created an anxious mood amongst the wristbands, especially those who were near the front, watching ticketholders who had joined the line long after them getting in while we were still being assured we'd be getting in soon. This isn't rocket science — the organizers know the venue's capacity, and should know pretty much exactly how many tickets had been sold. Basic mathematics should indicate how many wristband-holders they'll be able to accommodate, and if there's significantly more people than than in the line, it's pretty simple to let people know, so they can get a head start on using their wristbands elsewhere and not waste time waiting to get into a full venue.

At least folks in the line were in that we're-in-the-same-boat kind of spirit, and there was some chatting to pass the time. But more than an hour after I'd joined the queue it started to rain a bit. I took that as a sign and decided to cut my losses and bail.¹ Even if I did get in, I was wondering how much fun I'd have as one of the last few people shoehorned into a packed room, where I'd either have to suffer among the yappy people at the back or be mildly rude and force my way up front.

10 P.M.: Ace Kinkaid @ Rancho Relaxo

Going with a hastily-assembled Plan B, I headed down to Rancho Relaxo. Which from a comfort level, at least, turned out to be the right move. Coming up to the fullish room, I certainly felt more relaxed than I would have been at Lee's, where there certainly isn't a coat rack to hang up one's jacket. The fuzzy old TV at the bar, with its supply of videotaped films, was showing The Lost Boys, a timely tribute to the just-deceased Corey Haim.

And up front on the stage was Ace Kinkaid, a largely-instrumental four-piece out of Ottawa. The guit-bass-drums were complemented by Ryan Kimmich's squelchy keybs, which would stand as the band's most distinctive element. At the outset, the music fell pretty squarely into what I think of as "Mike Post rock" — punchy, upbeat stuff that would work over the credits of a syndicated action series, or as background to a car chase. As the set went on, a wider palette would push them beyond anything quite so narrow, with a touch of psych here and a math-y moment there. Nothing that blew me away, but there was a pleasing blurpy-ness to some of it.

11 P.M.: Pick a Piper @ Rancho Relaxo

The last time I saw Pick a Piper, I'd concluded they were a "powerful band, but not necessarily with a strong power over me". Given the amount of praise I'd seen for 'em, I figured I should check 'em out again, just to see if maybe I had missed something the first time around. And this would seemingly be an auspicious occasion to do so, with the band billing this as something of an event with extra drummers joining the band's already-heavy percussion line. Indeed, as the band was getting ready on stage, a couple drummers were setting up their floor toms amongst the crowd, and right from the set's start with a booming instrumental, there was a powerful thunderousness afoot. Most of the same associations and tensions that I'd felt the first time came back to me, starting with the patchouli whiff of hippie drum circle-ism, which is something that just instinctively puts me on edge. And, I must admit, I still find the mixture of hyper-live (all the percussion) and canned (the synth tracks from a laptop) to be vaguely off-putting somehow. The singing, often with offsetting dual lead parts, was more mood-setting than word-relevant.

After "Rooms", the band opened a sack of dollar-store tambourines and started tossing them out into the crowd, making everyone a part of the band for the all-percussion finale, with drums being carried from the stage to the back of the room. Here was that hippie drum circle I'd been leery of — but to be in the middle of it (or, well, more at the fringes of it) was exciting and definitely the highlight of the set. Pick a Piper has some relatively catchy songs, there's all that rhythm making it something you can groove to a bit — no shortage of likable elements. And yet, for me, there's something about it that's less than the sum of its parts.

There were more bands to come, but I was most definitely pacing myself, with three more nights to go. The show didn't wow me, but it was a good-enough time — certainly better than being stuck in line-up purgatory.

Thanks to Historyjen for pointing out that CMW promo video.

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^* 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 — although there was a part of me that also considered using the slightly cumbersome "Canadian Music Fest presented by Canadian Music Week" throughout.

¹ Which, as it turns out, was the right move. A couple nights later waiting for the streetcar I ran into a couple that I'd recognized from ahead of me in the queue and asked if they made it in. They told me that in end no wristbands were admitted to the show. I didn't experience anything like this otherwise, but there were reports of this happening at other popular showcases, where few to no wristbands were let in. It seems that the organizers upped the proportion of advance tickets sold this year, which is a slap in the face to people who put down a not-insubstantial sum to buy a wristband. If a particular showcase is going to have very few wristbands getting in, then at least advertise it as such.

Gig: Postcards

Postcards (The Hoa Hoa's / Volcano)

Rancho Relaxo. Friday, November 6, 2009.

Went down to Cinematheque to see Chris Marker's masterful Sans Soleil, a film that I had no means to categorize until it was included in this series on "The Essay Film". Consisting of documentary-style footage accompanying a voice reading a series of letters, the film is, in fact, a meticulous fiction — the mysterious author of the letters read on the screen is a creation of the director, and the vortex of images and text are carefully constructed to decenter any attempts to pin down what the film is actually about. Arguably, it's a deconstruction of how we make and use memory, although I've always thought it also had something to do with examining the boundaries between magic and associative logic.

Having seen the film before¹ I was mostly going in to soak in the heady rush of the whole thing. I brought along some Thinking Juice² to help me maintain my relaxed state of mind. Jean-Paul Gorin, film-maker, scholar, and the originator of the programme was in attendance to introduce the film and talk about it afterwards. Gorin wore a dashing scarf and had a propensity to speak in scaffold-like paragraphs of mounting ideas, only to perpetually undercut himself — shrugging and asking, 'can we really know this is the point?'.

As the closing credits rolled, Gorin stood up in his seat and roared, "I don't want to talk!", mounting the stage and proceeding to discuss the film anyways. Bursting into his monologue, one young gentleman seemed eager to show off his learnin' and match wits with Gorin, asking, "so, the film is a deconstruction of how we make and use memory, right?" And Gorin immediately cut him down, replying, "no, no! If that's all it were, we could have all fucked off five minutes ago." And batting down each subsequent riposte from the guy. After that, when any questioner made some sort of statement as to what the film was about, Gorin would reply with a yes-but-no sort of response, as if the only epistemological geometry appropriate for the film was a spaghetti tangle of Möbius strips being eaten by an Ouroboros. Which isn't to say he was terse or merely contradictory — various enquiries would lead to stories and amusing tangents and, ultimately, his verbal legerdemain probably was the most appropriate way to consider this work. But when one woman near the back prefaced her question by praising Gorin to the skies, he looked over to where his testy interlocutor had been sitting — he and his companion had fled a couple questions after his smackdown — and muttered, sotto voce, "motherfucker left already." It was vaguely weird, mildly awkward and immensely entertaining.

After this rhizomatic mindbender, I hit the street, unsure of what I was going to do with myself. All things considered, I hadn't particularly planned on heading to a gig — I'd been mildly sleepy and there was nothing fully demanding my attendance. But I was filled with a sort of undemanding mindfulness, everything under the streetlights vibrating and seeming-to-be a bit more than usual. I walked over to Spadina and up, wondering if I should hop on streetcar and just go home when I spotted a Lucky Cat inside a restaurant window wink at me. What the hell, I figured, why not some rock'n'roll?³

So, I made over to Rancho and up the stairs with just a few minutes to spare before things got underway. Enough time to grab a drink and introduce myself to Bobby B., consistently astute observer of things musical, who also happened to have slipped The Hoa Hoa's on his Hottest Canadian Bands ballot.

Soon enough openers Volcano took the stage. This relatively-new local foursome played a short set of swelling, somewhat psychedelic slowburners. The band possessed the assuredness to let the songs unspool at an unhurried pace — two of their five songs stretching over six minutes⁴ — and to let the tension build without resorting to over-the-top freak-outs. Given that sonic attitude, some might say that the band's name has been misgiven, as one thing they don't do is erupt. But volcanoes (and Volcano) do rumble a lot, and you'd best keep one one on 'em, just in case they do explode.

Listen to a track from this set here.

It's possible that at some point familiarity will begin to breed discontent, but for the moment I have experienced no diminishing returns with frequent exposure to The Hoa Hoa's. Perhaps helped by the fact that they just seem to cause a happening whenever they play — as they took the stage a fairly quiet room was suddenly brought to life with friends and fellow members of the Optical Sounds family suddenly filling the floor. The set opened with "Hey Joe" — not that one, an original⁵ — followed by "Thinking About Today", a cover by Nederbeat cult heroes The Outsiders, and a rocking run through new album opener "Postcards". The band was playing so powerfully that it seemed for a moment like they might overwhelm the room's sound system, the song ending with a cloud of static-y crackling emerging from the speakers. The set even ended with a new one playing a bit against type with a crafty death disco keyb part from Richard Gibson — and ended with a flat-out rocking version of frequent set-closer "Blue Acid Gumball" in the vein of what fans of The Clean might recognize as "the speedfreak sound". Speaking of rhizomatic mindbenders, The Hoa Hoa's are fully capable of altering your perception on any given night. The band are celebrating the release of their new album on Friday, December 4 at The Silver Dollar, and it is most assuredly not to be missed.⁶

Listen to a track from this set here.

Though that was pretty much everything I'd come out for, decided to stick around to check out Montréal's Postcards. The four-piece played a lean sort of reverb-heavy rock bringing to mind a sort of northern British '80's feel. After the fullness of the previous set's sound, it took a bit of a perceptual shift to adjust to the spare thinness that the Postcards were working within — like going from lush Technicolor to overexposed black-and-white. After a few songs I started to think there was something here that I just wasn't getting, although I appeared to be in the minority — Lee from The Hoa Hoa's, for example, was joyfully shuffling around the room, grooving to the sounds. Eventually I managed to get into them a bit and dig a few of their songs. I think it helped that the band managed to gain a bit of strength as they went along, moving forward from the plodding plunk-plunk-plunk with which they begun their set. Plus there was some undeniable tunefulness at play. Not a slam-dunk of a set, but I'd say it ended up on the positive side of the ledger.

Listen to a track from this set here.

There was one more band on the night's line-up — local crew Easy Targets — but I was feeling about done and decided to head out before I started getting too sleepy. But all told, a very fine lineup.

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¹ The Toronto Public Library has the Criterion DVD. I highly recommend it.

² Let's just say — purely theoretically, just for the sake of argument — that the main ingredients were Orangina and Southern Comfort. Just to give a f'rinstance.

³ Oh, hey — speaking of crazy rock'n'roll times down at the Cinematheque, I note that there's a free screening of Guy Debord's In Girum Imus Nocte et Consumimur Igni on Thursday, December 5. If you're like me, you might've heard of this flick from Greil Marcus' essential rock tome Lipstick Traces. Otherwise, might be worth it for anyone with an interest in Situationism, contemporary French social theory, palindromes, or crazy experimental movies. I'll see you there, I'm sure — B.Y.O.T.J. (bring yr own Thinking Juice).

⁴ And it's no slight against Chris Hobson's vox and lyrics to say that the highlight of the set was an instrumental where he exchanged guit for keybs and just let things roll along for a good few minutes.

⁵ Conceptually at least, this would go well on a mixtape next to Girls' recent "Lust For Life".

⁶ I got my mitts on a copy of Pop/Drone/Pedals and it's pretty fabulous stuff, so all the more reason to head down and grab a copy.

NxNE: Saturday

NxNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto 2009.

Saturday, June 20, 2009. Featuring: Clydesdale, Woodpigeon, The Mark Inside, Olenka and the Autumn Lovers, catl, Nightwood, Hank & Lily, The Hoa Hoa's

8 P.M.: Clydesdale @ Silver Dollar

After the afternoon show, had some non-rock time to stretch my legs and grab a bite to eat, but it wasn't too long before I was back at it, starting off, again at the Silver Dollar. I'd never heard of Clydesdale, but the members' past credentials (Tangiers, Deadly Snakes, Grasshopper, The Killer Elite) were pretty impressive, so I figured I'd take a chance. It turned out to be a vital, exciting set. Classic rock in, say, the way The Only Ones or The Replacements were classic rock, and filled with the sort of energy you might've heard in a Tangiers or Deadly Snakes song. The four-piece were rigourously tight behind Shawn Leger's raspy vox. Even some technical problems with the drums couldn't slow the momentum. No weak songs, though one with Yuri Didrichsons on keyboards had an especially catchy edge to it. A band this good won't be playing the first slot of the evening for long.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 P.M.: Woodpigeon @ The Horseshoe Tavern

Down to the 'Shoe (for my only appearance there during the festival) to check out Calgary's Woodpigeon for what turned out to be part of a live CBC3 showcase. I was a bit late getting on board with this group, now basking in Polaris-related buzz, but was curious to see what I'd heard praised as a solid live show. Based on the songs and voice of Mark Hamilton, the band takes simple songs and gently fabricates elaborate arrangements around them. This live set worked with a similar logic, starting quiet and small ("the slow jam portion of the evening") and gradually building up — in intensity as well as the number of players on stage. With strings, keys, and vibes (courtesy of local guest Paul Aucoin) there's an orchestral sweep to this music, intercut with a Tango In The Night pop sensibility (as Hamilton confessed in introducing "The Alison Yip School for Girls"). For my money, this worked out pretty well, and I was well impressed by Hamilton's superior form of soft rock. The band seems to still be gaining strength, as witnessed by a nice new cut "The Saddest Music in the World", complete with sampled looping whistle. The band played a longer-than-usual set, capped by the presentation of an award from Galaxie radio. Safe to say we'll be hearing more from 'em.

Listen to a track from this set here.

10 P.M.: The Mark Inside @ Velvet Underground

Tried my hardest to find one more band named after an animal to complete the trifecta, but no luck. Looking at the listings, the most promising thing close at hand seemed to be the unenticingly-named Dirtblonde from Liverpool, whose blurb promised "white noise racket" and namechecked Sonic Youth. So I ducked into the Hideout, a venue not normally on my radar, right on the hour to see a very non-British, non white-noise-racket bunch with Flying Vees, headbands and lather pants completing their setup.¹ I was quite confused until the one with the headband announced, in a very un-Liverpool accent that "the band they hired didn't show up, so they got us instead — and we're a much better band". As they launched into a Sunset Strip-styled sleaze-rock riff, I was already fishing out my schedule. When the backup singers, wearing miniskirts and angel wings, came on stage I ducked out the door.

Cutting my losses, walked a few doors down to the Velvet and got in just as The Mark Inside were beginning their set with a rendition of "Happy Birthday" for vocalist Chris Levoir's father. This was a perfectly acceptable consolation prize, as the only reason they'd not been on my list of things to see is that I'd seen 'em a couple months ago at CMW. Looking back, my remarks at the time seem unduly negative now, as my memories of the set ended up being warmer than my contemporaneous notes. Or perhaps I was just more receptive on the second time around, but I enjoyed this set pretty well, especially in the first half when the tempos were at their fastest, and Gus Harris' rhythm guit had a pleasingly insistent edge to it. "There is Nothing to Admit" received an especially pleading reading. I'm still a bit less sold when they slow down and get more of a bluesy vibe, such as on "Shots". A brand new track "Everything is a Daydream" hit closer to the mark, with its slightly manic vibe and torrent of lyrics more suggestive of a nightmare. An enjoyable set, and I'm glad I had this second viewing.

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 P.M.: Olenka and the Autumn Lovers @ Bread and Circus

Coulda easily stuck around and taken in the Zoobombs, but once again was feeling the itch for something different, and soon I found myself walking the length of Augusta to get to Bread and Circus, a spot totally unfamiliar to me. Moving from drizzly outside to sauna-like inside, my glasses actually steamed over, forcing me to blindly grope my way towards the back room, a squarish space with tall ceiling and raised tiers of tables at the back. It had the look of a sit-down place where you'd more likely go to see a play than a gig, so perhaps appropriate for something I was expecting to have a sort of cabaret feel. The band was on stage when I entered, but still going through a fairly lengthy soundcheck process, so I had enough time to compose myself and find a spot. This would end up being the venue with the loudest talking crowd of anything I saw at NxNE² which I think cut into my enjoyment some. As for the band, starting with the sprightly opener "Odessa", we got the promised folksy jaunt, with sweet harmonies, strings, stand-up bass, and occasional accordion decorating the songs. Having no other familiarity with the band, I don't know if it was by design or just a product of the venue's sound that Olenka's acoustic guit was very front-and-centre, overwhelming all the other elements to the detriment of the sound. There were a few places where I felt the swooning romantic roil the band seemed capable of, but overall I found it muddled and mildly underwhelming.

12 A.M.: catl @ The Silver Dollar

In theory catl are the sort of act that I should have taken pains to avoid at the festival — they're local and play a reasonable number of shows. But I'd never been able to put it together to go out and see them, so I wanted to seize this opportunity, even if it meant missing out on some out-of-towner who might not pass this way again. Turned out to be a grand time. Catl's elemental blues-rock might be superficially compared to the John Spencer Blues Explosion, but there's a slightly different dynamic at play here. Originally a drums/guitar duo of Johnny LaRue and eponymous singer-guitarist catl (ex-Pecola) — whose aggressively slurred vocals gave the songs a vibe like The Fall covering John Lee Hooker. Added to that is the organ/percussion/vox of Sarah Kirkpatrick (ex-Shitt Hottt), who fleshed the songs out even more. Although seated, catl put a sweaty workman's effort in.³ The intense forty minutes was about the right length to appreciate this — and the band are definitely on the list to be seeing again.

Listen to a track from this set here.

1 A.M.: Nightwood @ Rancho Relaxo

With no pick for this slot, went with a bit of a random choice, and I settled on this as much as anything because I wanted to be at the Rancho an hour down the line, but this Montréal trio turned out to be quite entertaining. Two women up front on guitars and vox plus a non-woman drummer behind. Both Erin Ross and Amber Goodwyn played more on the bottom strings, so the absence of a bass player wasn't really felt. There was a strong musical interplay between the two, both on guitar and in their tag-team vox. The band mostly dealt in slow-burning tunes — I don't know if any of their songs were actually about things you'd find in the woods at night, but they gave that kind of implicitly menacing vibe. Well, mostly, there were a few more upbeat numbers, including one with a chorus of "play the dishes, wash the guitar" which brought to mind the domestic adventures of Sleater-Kinney's "Little Babies". The band staked out a clear sonic space and did a good job of exploring that little patch of the woods.

Listen to a track from this set here.

2 A.M.: The Hank and Lily Show @ Rancho Relaxo

Watching the set-up during the soundcheck for The Hank and Lily Show, one could get the impression that a show was about to begin. But even then, there was still was a burst of anticipation when a voice started to sing with the stage empty, "Don't be afraid / don't be afraid / 'til I tell you why you ought to be afraid". Making their way through the crowd Hank (in a sort of steampunk gas mask) and Lily (wearing miniature deer antlers) led their followers (a bassist and a trio of backing singers) to the stage. And soon we were plunged into an old-fashioned medicine show, complete with testimonials for the snake oil and comic books available at the merch table. Although they were playing with this old-timey country imagery, the music was more blues-based. Not that any such book-learnin' distinctions meant much in the face of a sweaty good-time spectacle. Clearly a band that decided to stake itself on an ability to entertain, and in that department they delivered in spades. Hank (with a wireless mic concealed in his mask) delivered his vocals in a low-down hoodoo growl, contrasting with Lily's naif, chirpy sweetness. The songs about sin, prison and the apocalypse included lots of audience participation and generally led to a sweaty bit of fun craziness. Very much worth seeing live.

3 A.M.: The Hoa Hoa's @ Silver Dollar

Ended off the whole marathon of a day with The Hoa Hoa's, who I'd seen (and been pretty rocked out by) at the same venue during CMW. Commenting, "let's go on a trip together" the band launched into its thick and syrupy brand of psychedelic garage rock. An even better show than the first time I'd seen 'em, I was totally captivated, despite being a little bit exhausted. A fine way to end the festival and try to drag myself home before the sky started to get light.

Listen to a track from this set here.

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¹ I can't honestly say with one hundred per cent accuracy that anyone on the stage was wearing leather pants, but the band had the aura of leather pants.

² I found it striking that a member of another band on the night's bill was standing at the opposite side of the room from me, holding an audible conversation during the set.

³ In fact, I can't recall the last time I saw so much sweat running down the body of a guitar from the player's arm.

NxNE: Friday

NxNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto 2009.

Friday, June 19, 2009. Featuring: Spiral Beach, Matt and Kim, Parlovr, Zeroes, Golden Triangle, Mika Miko, The Homosexuals, Experimental Dental School

7 P.M.: Spiral Beach @ Whippersnapper Gallery

Making my way through a College Street under siege, booths busily being set up for Taste of Little Italy, found a bit of a queue in front of the Whippersnapper Gallery as ID's were busily being checked. Still managed to get in a few minutes before seven and found a patch of floor not too far back from the stage. For the "big time" of NxNE there were a couple lighting rigs flanking the stage, adding a bit of visual flair to the venue.

I'd only seen Spiral Beach once before, December '06, when they opened for Tokyo Police Club at the Horseshoe. Though I'd sampled and enjoyed their first alb, the live show left me feeling unimpressed — I recall thinking this was a young band with more spirit than songs. After that, they'd sort of been put on my mental backburner while they continued to garner a lot of positive vibes. But let it be said I'm willing to give second chances, so I came to the show with an open mind to see what'd changed in a couple years. As it turns out, although the band still looks shockingly young, there's been a whole lot of development. Although still usually pitched as a good-times-party kind of band, Spiral Beach's music had a darker, psychedelic edge than anticipated. Even on the faster numbers — including a new one that sounded like Piper at the Gates of Dawn hooked up to a primitive drum machine — there was something that suggested, "even if I'm dancing, I'm still in the middle of a bad trip". Interesting stuff, and it brought me around enough that it occurred to me I'd see 'em again.¹

Listen to a track from this set here.

8 P.M.: Matt and Kim @ Whippersnapper Gallery

Stayed on — hell, I'd gotten here early for — Matt and Kim, a band I was curious to see live. Despite the fact that the album didn't quite sit right with me, I'd gotten a notion that there was something to this Brooklyn duo. They took the stage with an instrumental fanfare and Matt was soon oozing positivity ("it's a beautiful goddamn day in Toronto") to the enthusiastic crowd in the stupidly hot room. Kim, meanwhile, was fighting the aftereffects of some bad Thai but still put in a spirited performance. It wasn't a visually satisfying experience, what with both musicians playing while seated on a low stage, I only caught a glimpse of either when they stood up. But musically, it was a worthy effort. Though there might have been one too many instrumentals in the short set (including a quick run through "The Final Countdown") the band's irrepressible gusto was impossible to deny, so I can say I left liking them more than I did when I came in.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 P.M.: Parlovr @ Supermarket

After that, walked over to see Parlovr ("one of Montreal's most talked-about unsigned acts") at Supermarket², part of a showcase for Nevado Records. The three piece featured a dual-guitars-no-bass setup, though Louis Jackson's guit had a split output into the guitar and bass amps to prop up the bottom end. On a stage decorated with traffic signals, the band played a reasonable set of post-Strokes indie rock with a Montréal twist, guitars cleanly intertwining around slightly howl-y adenoidal vox. They were entertaining and brought some pleasantly goofy banter (including an onstage argument over Heath ledger versus Val Kilmer) but the songs weren't so memorable. There's a good base here, and I wouldn't write this band off, but I wasn't totally convinced by what I heard.

10 P.M.: Zeroes @ Silver Dollar Room

Wandered over to the Silver Dollar to see Zeroes, another Montréal band. Which made for an interesting compare and contrast, I guess. Zeroes had a bit more of a colder, post-punk edge — the guitars more menacing and the keybs icy — hints of, maybe, Magazine and bands of that ilk. I liked the band's textures, but found their stage presence to be a bit lacking in charisma: even when, say, grinding a guit against an amp, it seemed a little rote. That's petty, sure, but given the onslaught of bands I was in the middle of, the marginal things tend to stand out a little more. Interestingly, on listening to the playback of my recording of this set, I found myself liking it more than I remember, which might indicate that I was hitting a bit of a wall at the time. Possibly a good soundtrack for wandering the city while the drugs aren't quite doing enough to squelch the voices in your head — which may or may not be your idea of a good time on a Friday night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 P.M.: Golden Triangle @ Velvet Underground

By this point, I was definitely looking for something outside the broad category of "boys with guitars", so, looking over the listings, grabbed the streetcar down to Queen and walked over to Cameron House, thinking that The Hank and Lily Show would be a good change of pace. But inside, I found about a dozen people in line waiting to get in to the back room. That didn't seem entirely promising, so I ducked back outside and looked at the listings again and decided that the answer was just a bit further down the street at Velvet Underground. Got in with Brooklyn's Golden Triangle already on stage, a repeating riff echoing through a thick layer of reverb. When the drums, muffled like they were being played in a room a couple doors down the street, kicked in, I felt at home. This band's sound could probably be captured with a fairly reductionist blurb like "imagine if The Vivian Girls had convened as a surf band". Which might sound like pithy snideness save for the fact that, to me, that sounds like a bloody marvelous idea. With dual female vocalists up front, those snake-like guitar lines, and the primal drumming, I was totally into this — just the right mix of murk and sass. One of the best sets I saw at the festival.

Listen to a track from this set here.

12 A.M.: Mika Miko @ Sneaky Dee's

A bracing walk up Bathurst gave me a bit of a second wind. I'd been a bit eager to check out Mika Miko and was a little worried, given some buzz, that I might round the corner on College to find a line-up. Turned out to be no problem — possibly the demand had been spread out, given that this was the band's second set of the night. Veterans of the same Smell-based L.A. scene that has produced No Age, Mika Miko have a more straight-up punk feel — the rapid-fire songs came with shades of Liliput, Wire, Undertones and so on. But as with all first-class rock'n'roll bands, their energy made it all seem new and spontaneous. The duelling vocals of Jennifer Clavin and Jenna Thornhill were the most powerful weapons in the arsenal, but the whole band was on fire. I can't really say if this was objectively good, but in the moment it felt ferociously vital — which kinda means it seemed fantastic.

Listen to a track from this set here.

1 A.M.: The Homosexuals @ Sneaky Dee's

Oh my. I guess I could pull cred and say I was familiar with original-wave British punks The Homosexuals, but, quite honestly, I'd never heard of them. I had no idea what to expect from this set, but from the moment I saw the blazer-clad older British chap pulling his carry-on towards the stage, I was guessing this was not going to some rote re-hash of the glory days. Instead we got a tour through the mind of Bruno Wizard, who claimed to have fired his crack band after catching them listening to Bruce Springsteen and was now backed by "the future of fucking rock" in the form of Fiasco³ — or at least two-thirds thereof. After some introductory comments, Bruno moved behind the drum kit to give a history lesson about how all rock music is derived from African rhythms before picking up the guitar and playing a couple songs. He was then joined by Jonathan and Julian, who backed him sympathetically and ably, even if it was evident on occasion that they had as little idea as the rest of the audience what Bruno was going on about. Songs were interspersed with free-association digressions on cosmology and history (what was that about riding on a beam of light with Einstein again?) until Bruno deigned to start a song or Jonathan could sneak in a count-in. Fortunately, Bruno seemed to be canny like a fox and I think — I think — that to be entertained by his erratic tangents was more like the sort of sharing vibe he was encouraging, and not a case of "let's laugh at the nutter". The set ended with an extended version of "You're Not Moving the Way You're Supposed To", which was pretty fantastic — in fact, all of the tunes on which the Fiasco lads got a groove on were pretty hot. Bruno announced that when Fiasco's bassist was done school, they come back for another gig, which would be free for anyone in attendance "with love in their hearts". A baffling and unique experience.

Spend a few perplexing minutes with Bruno here.

2 A.M.: Experimental Dental School @ Rancho Relaxo

Well. One could imagine anything'd be a letdown after that but I felt like I had one more set in me, so walked over to Rancho to see Experimental Dental School, who, possibly fortunately, were really neither. That is, not so much experimental per se as a minimalist pop act using a double-decker rack of guitar effects to stretch out their sound some. Drummer Shoko Horikawa and guitarist Jesse Hall traded off vocals and took the songs out on little excursions, but didn't drag things so far away as to crumble the foundations. They also exuded a cool, positive vibe from the stage, seeking high-fives from anyone digging the sounds. I'm willing to concede by this point of the night I was more just surfing on the vibe rather than listening carefully, but this was enjoyable. A nice vibe to end the night and head home, a little exhausted.⁴

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¹ Which, as it turns out, came to pass a bunch sooner than I'd expected.

² Slogan: "Kensington's least grungy venue".

³ Recently in town at the Over the Top festival.

⁴ It looks like the band is offering a free album for download on their website — which I'm now going to check out and recommend to you as well.

NxNE: Thursday

NxNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto 2009.

Thursday, June 18, 2009. Featuring: Chang-A-Lang, Silverghost, Ume, Kittens Ablaze, Wildlife, Amy Campbell

8 P.M.: Chang-A-Lang @ The Silver Dollar Room

For Thursday, had very little of an agenda, and, to be honest, hadn't done much in the way of research, so I was free to sort of just go with guesswork — a sort of triangulation of venue, band name and well-written blurbs. Going with the first of those, it seemed safe to start at The Silver Dollar, where Dan Burke's hand-picked bands can usually be relied upon to bring the rock. So, first up: Toronto's Chang-A-Lang, a three-piece bringing offerings of rock'n'roll in exchange for sweat. The band had a nice stock of power pop-ish tunes, mostly sung by guitarist Brian Okamoto, though bassist Jeanette Dowling took the reins for a couple, and provided sterling backing vox throughout. The band would be right at home at a packed party and might've been a bit out of their element playing the early slot to a smaller, less jumpy crowd but still managed to entertain by giving the impression that they were entertaining themselves. Fun stuff.

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 P.M.: Silverghost @ Neutral Lounge

Walked over to the top of Augusta to head down to the mouldering depths of Neutral, a venue I'd not previously visited. Before it filled in with people, it had a sense of cool damp, and that musty smell of an unfinished basement in an old house. Not a superb layout for live music, with a small stage, raised one step up, tucked into a corner in the shorter half of the room, leaving the larger half of the room with lousy sightlines. It wasn't crowded at this hour, so I had no problem there, but I'm guessing this would be an awkward venue for latecomers if it were jammed. The blurb for Detroit duo Silverghost, featuring Marcie Bolen (ex-Von Bondies, guit/vox) and Deleano Acevedo¹ (vox/keybs/beats via laptop) had promised "male/female-fuzz-analog-pop" which sounded worthy of checking out, the pair largely cashed in on that promise. Bolen — in a styling pantsuit (very 1981) — was the more magnetic presence, but the tag-team vox were well-done. The first couple numbers featured a classic Detroit rock sound, with fuzzy organ and tambourine-laced drum track, and might have been the best overall. The songs following had a bit more of a new wave sound, and brought to mind fellow Detroit rockers The Slumber Party. Although the programmed beats mostly fit well into their aesthetic, there were some moments where the I felt the absence of a live drummer. But the band had good songs and executed well. Worth checking out if you are a fan of the "male/female-fuzz-analog-pop" genre.

Listen to a track from this set here.

10 P.M.: Ume @ Neutral Lounge

Instead of shuffling venues, stuck around for Austin's Ume, who had been hotly tipped by Frank Chromewaves. This trio brought a rock attack not unlike a single-guitar Sonic Youth, powered by the proficient Lauren Larson. Although I was expecting perhaps something "heavier", Larson's playing showed a crafty range that unleashed a variety of bracing sounds thrown into relief by her demure looks and small voice chirping "thank you" at the ends of songs — like, say, an anime heroine destroying marauding invaders with pulsating energy bolts only to transform back into an unassuming student. It was an enjoyable set that hinted at greater possibilities — I felt at times that the band was a little... contained and in such heightened control that the songs couldn't breathe as much as they might.² I'd also wager that the band would sound better on a more powerful sound system, so here's hoping they return to play a slightly bigger room.

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 P.M.: Kittens Ablaze @ Rivoli

Looking through the blurbs, my eye was caught by "Americana-indie rock band... orchestral... full of violin and cello riffs" and that seemed worth a go, so grabbed the Spadina streetcar down to Queen to head into Rivoli for Kittens Ablaze. With keyboards on the floor and on an ironing board, not to mention a cello with extra tall spike for stand-up action playing, the co-ed six-piece had a chaotic edge, bringing a ramshackle approach to what is normally a staid style of orchestrated pop. So, some credit for that, but there was also an air of diverse elements merely heaped on top of each other, and the songs too often felt under-arranged. There were a couple moments where everything came together, but overall, I didn't really connect with this.

 

12 A.M.: Wildlife @ Rancho Relaxo / Amy Campbell @ Free Times Café

In a world without lineups, I'd've probably slipped next door into the Horseshoe to see The King Khan & BBQ Show, but I didn't feel like waiting in any sort of queue. At Spadina, let chance carry me when I saw a streetcar coming and headed back up to College instead of heading further down Queen. I was feeling whimsically random and just followed my feet without checking the schedule and found myself going upstairs to Rancho, just a couple minutes before Wildlife started playing. A song-and-a-half's worth of slightly yelpy modern rock rubbed me the wrong way somehow and made me feel like this wasn't what I was in the mood for, so I headed back out.

Again, by random chance, instead of turning left to go to the Silver Dollar to check out the rock onslaught of Montréal's Red Mass, I turned right and started walking. When I passed by Free Times Café with it's NxNE sight outside, I thought, "what the hell," and ducked in. Settled in amongst a spare crowd in the back room where, except for the blueshirt working the door, I was the youngest person in sight. On stage turned out to be the folksy Amy Campbell, singing and playing an acoutic guit, accompanied by a stand-up bassist. At first I thought it was some sort of oddly arranged three-piece, as the song in progress as I entered also included table-top percussion by a guy sitting up front — but when I saw the people behind him shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, I realized that he was just a really obnoxious drunk who was pretty oblivious to what an ass he was being. So — two kinds of entertainment at once! Besides seeing how Campbell would deal with the drunk guy, my decision to stay put was sealed by the bass player's entirely sympathetic and effortlessly nimble lines. So I settled in and ended up enjoying it pretty well. Campbell's voice and songs reminded me of, say, Shawn Colvin, and made me think back to a time when I actually listened to a fair bit more music like this. "Oh Heart, Oh Highway" — the title track from her latest album — was given an especially fine reading. She was also a good storyteller between songs, and the drunk guy eventually mostly wore himself out. For something completely random to drop into, a nice surprise.

After that, I had some thoughts of hitting the Silver Dollar to see The Zoobombs, but the outside air hit my like a wall and I suddenly realized how tired I was on what had been a get-up-early workday. And once it occurred to me that seeing one more set would mean foregoing the subway home, that more-or-less clinched it. Caught the streetcar up to Spadina Station and headed home to bed.

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¹ Rock t-shirt: Rolling Stones, lips logo.

² Though this also gives the impression (that I have in no way tested, yet) that the band is capable of disciplined and focused studio efforts.

Gig: CMW (Saturday)

CMW: Jon-Rae Fletcher / Young Galaxy / Les Handclaps / The Hoa-Hoa's / The Beekeepers / The Disraelis

Lee's Palace / The Horseshoe / Rancho Relaxo / The Silver Dollar. Saturday, March 14, 2009.

My normal approach to these sorts of things usually involves pre-planning/ arriving early/ staying put. But with nothing seriously top-to-bottom compelling me, I decided, for a change, to wing it and use my wristband to its full advantage, with just a copy of eye to give me some idea where I was heading.

9 P.M.: Jon-Rae Fletcher @ Lee's Palace

His in-store performance rekindling my interest, decided I'd better not miss his full band set. So got into Lee's a few minutes before nine.¹ There were a respectable number of people inside for that early in the night, and it certainly looked like there were a few number of people who came early to get seats and were settled in for the evening. The band actually came on before the top of the hour and launched right into a set again dominated by Oh, Maria. Jon-Rae was backed by a three-piece unit, travelling, I guess, without the keyb and trombone that added a bit of extra texture to the recording. The backing was generally decent — although the guit player missed a couple notes, he had the right vibe. Playing to a room mostly there for other bands, there was reasonable applause for the numbers, plus a small cadre whooping out and shouting requests clearly there to hear Jon-Rae. Honouring that bunch, the band left for a few solo numbers from the back catalogue, including "Fire" again, and a partial take on "Just One More" where the spirit was willing, but memory of the lyrics was weak. It was a fine performance, and my hope now is that Jon-Rae can reconcile with some more of his old songs and mix up his setlist a bit.²

The place had filled in even more during the set, and as I made my way out, I was taken aback by the length of the line stretching down the sidewalk outside the club. Was everyone out to see Elliott Brood and Cuff the Duke, or was it going to be like this everywhere?

10:10 P.M.: Young Galaxy @ The Horseshoe

As it turned out, I had no problem getting into the 'Shoe, which was well-filled, but not packed. Just had time to grab a drink and head towards the stage as Young Galaxy came on. I had liked their album okey, but I had been truly sold on them in these same digs in the fall of '07, where in a smeary wall of guitars and smoke-machine haze, they totally blew headliners Besnard Lakes off the stage. I was hoping for some of that same live spark, as well as some new material, which is exactly what I got. The band, in fact, played only a couple songs from the debut album, giving the bulk of the set over new stuff. It was all good, and some of it (especially a trio of songs led by Catherine McCandless' vox) were a cut above that. One in particular (possibly called "Burning Heart") was jaw-droppingly excellent, a sort of shoegazing slow-dance number. Plus, some style points for frontman Stephan Ramsay, who thoughtfully despoited his guitar on the overhead pipes before leaving the stage. The new stuff seemed pretty warmly received and it certainly whetted my appetite for their forthcoming album, going a long way towards ensuring that I'll be seeing them again when they hit town for a full show.³

11 P.M.: Les Handclaps @ Rancho Relaxo

I knew I was aiming to make the Silver Dollar my ultimate destination for the night, but the blurb for the eleven o'clock band wasn't compelling, so I decided to take a random detour to check out Rancho Relaxo. As I walked up the stairs and into the room I noted that the floor was covered with shiny confetti, and I was briefly worried that Peachcake, who had been first on the bill there that night, had somehow imploded, leaving only a residue of sparkling glitter.⁴ As I flashed my wristband, my mind was struggling with two things: a) is that, in fact, "Pump Up the Jam"? and b) hey, is that Mitsou?

The answers were "yes", and "not quite". I had walked into a room of people dancing to a Technotronic cover. This was Les Handclaps, who turned out to be a sort of electro-rappin' yé-yé combo, backing tracks augmented by dudes on keyb and guit, and fronted by Lorraine Muller, who indeed looked not unlike Mitsou's older sister clad in fetish gear. Their music, mostly en français, was a sexy dancin' good time, and the mostly-younger crowd were really into it. Of all the random acts I could have wandered into, this was a pretty good result, the sort of thing I might not go out of my way for in my usual manner of things, but greatly energizing fun to take in.

12:30 A.M.: The Hoa Hoa's @ Silver Dollar

Thusly pumped up, I headed 'round the corner and into the Silver Dollar in time to catch a song and a half by Picturesound, enough to make me feel sure I'd been right to give them a miss. Nothing particularly wrong with them (though the singer seemed a little weak), but their Madchester-styled choons seemed like a rehash I wasn't looking for.

A bit of a wait, then, but fortunately the club was much less packed than it'd been twenty-four hour previously⁵, and I was able to find a seat and relax until The Hoa Hoa's⁶ came on, which turned out to be quite a treat. They managed to press the exact buttons to excite me, playing songs that sounded like Nuggets singles played at 33 1/3, with the chorus cut out and the instrumental break occupying the bulk of the real estate. Which is to say the focus wasn't so much on the songs (which featured the vox pretty low in the mix, as one more sonic element rather than a featured attraction) but on the rhythmic interplay — though not in a "jamming" kind of way: more like the musical equivalent of watching someone working out a logic puzzle, resolving how the psych leanings bump up against something more austere and exacting. Very exciting, and I am on the lookout now for their disc and another chance to see if they sound like that all the time.

1:30 A.M.: The Beekeepers

Apparently fulfilling some sort of quota, The Beekeepers occupied the same "cute collective" slot occupied by The Ghost is Dancing the night before, to not much better results. Again the constant shuffling around between instruments, again the props.⁷ And songs that weren't particularly interesting, all dressed up and overarranged. Not for me.

2:30 A.M.: The Disraelis

Waiting through The Beekeepers turned out to be worth it, though. A trio sharing a drummer with The Hoa Hoa's, The Disraelis had a more stripped-down and shoegazing sound, with the guitar textures playing up against briskly-played bass. Not quite as mesmerizing, but I did like their sound quite a bit. Well worth seeing, and a good way to end to the night and the festival.⁸

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¹ Though I still like seeing a show at Lee's, the rigmarole at the door, staffed by oft-surly bouncers, is getting off-putting. To get in, everyone had to queue up, show I.D. and get a bag check — none of which happened anywhere else I went for CMW.

² Even an Annie Lennox cover would be appreciated.

³ Random note: as I was leaving, Jeff Cohen (with whom I am apparently becoming weirdly fascinated) was working the front door, monitoring capacity. He paused in counting patrons off to quickly remark, "Hey, Anti-Flag! Cool shirt!" to the guy in front of me.

⁴ It's also possible that they travel by teleportation, and this was some sort of by-product of their departure.

⁵ Though still well-populated by loud, drunk, spastically-dancing types. Dag.

⁶ Pronounced "wah wahs".

⁷ In this case: a bubble-blowing machine, and a mannequin torso mounted on a turntable. Whimsical! (Or, possibly, evoking some sort of cultural commentary that I'm missing out on.)

⁸ I heard later from K., who I nodded at on the way out (chatting up a conference-badge-wearing fellow) that the subsequent band's performance involved a mosh pit. I feel fine for having missed that.