NXNE 2011: Wednesday

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2011.

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

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

8:00 p.m.: Loom @ Rivoli

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

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

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

Listen to a track from this set here.

9 p.m.: Megan Bonnell @ Rivoli

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

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

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

10 p.m.: O Voids @ The Horseshoe

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

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

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

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

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

Listen to a track from this set here.

11 p.m.: Red Mass @ The Horseshoe

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

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

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

Listen to a track from this set here.

Midnight: Parlovr @ The Horseshoe

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

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

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

Listen to a track from this set here.

Gig: Doug Paisley

Doug Paisley

Rivoli. Saturday, June 4, 2011.

Unusually for me, I totally missed opener Lindi Ortega, partially because, equally unusual, this gig was actually running on time. That would be one of several signs that there was more of a grown-up vibe at hand for this show. Also noteworthy: this one was put on by Massey Hall's ticketing arm, and not one of the usual rock'n'roll promoters.¹

This was another part of the PR effort concomitant with the domestic reissue of his second album, and it brought out an older sort of crowd than the one that filled up Soundscapes a few days earlier. Now, we're not supposed to let the audience (or perceived audience) affect how we feel about an artist, but let's face it — we do. It naturally comes to mind: if an artist is chasing an older, more middle-of-the-road audience, what does that imply for their work and how they present themselves? I'm not one to criticize if a musician wants to play to forty-year-olds instead of twenty-year-olds — the "old" cadre are willing to pay a higher ticket price and are way more likely to buy an album. But at the same time, there's always the lingering worry that the outcome will be the musician attempting to "write down" to the broader audience, diluting their talent to appeal to the lowest common denominator.²

Pointing to the empty zone in front of the stage, Paisley commented, "in case anyone's not standing where they want to be standing, there's the invariable V.I.P. space up here that you can come and fill." Several people howled "no", not wanting their comfortably-seated views interfered with, another subtle sign of the different sort of audience at hand. Looking all this over, I was thinking about the fine, fine line between "rootsy singer-songwriter" and "adult contemporary". And as Paisley began to play, I was admittedly wishing his band still had a honky-tonkin' pedal steel. But at least the solid backing trio had room for a bit more gear, including a Rhodes electric piano which filled out the sound some more.

Although celebrating Constant Companion, Paisley wasn't reluctant to dip back to '08's self-titled album, playing "Broken in Two" and "Digging In The Ground" early on. But he did have access to some of the voices that graced the new one, with Julie Faught joining the group to add harmonies to "Always Say Goodbye" and "I Stand Alone".

As always, Paisley was an engaging banterer, telling the story behind the then-unreleased "Bats"³, played in a stripped-down solo version. That led off a mid-set solo stretch, and Paisley commented how the songs he picked for this part of the show were the saddest ones he had, even asking the audience to choose the next song: "one's about certain death, and the other's about the apocalypse."

The solo spotlight ended with a guest appearance from Justin Rutledge, Paisley's friend and neighbour, who did a solo acoustic version of one of his own new songs. It's probably that perception thing again, but I'd always thought of Rutledge as the sort of competently bland AAA artist that I was hoping Paisley wasn't getting melded into.⁴

In the last segment of the show, Jennifer Castle reprised her role on the album by adding her voice for a trio of tunes, including the appropriately set-ending "End of the Day". The encore brought a beautiful rendition of Neil Young's "It's a Dream", and, all told, it was enough to (mostly) remember that it's the singer that matters, not the crowd. With his pure voice and honest songs, Paisley certainly deserves an audience.⁵

Listen to a couple tgracks from this set here.

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¹ Paisley would later confess, "I grew up in Toronto, and I probably snuck into Massey Hall over fifty or sixty times since I was a kid. So I consider this as the first step towards payback. [beat, then sotto voce] That's gonna be a lotta shows, though."

² I think we can label this "Ron Sexsmith syndrome".

³ This song is now out on the new Golden Embers EP.

⁴ At this point, I can't not mention the fascinating/distracting trainwreck of the presumably-drunk woman, who started the show sitting on the floor underneath a table against the stage. As the music picked up, she got increasingly emotionally involved, wiping away tears during "Bluebird" and eventually shouting "you're all good!" at Rutledge. During "O Heart", she went from power-pumping her balled-up fists to full-on interpretive dancing, and would break into a solo slow-clap to the lyrics "everyone is wounded/ everyone is scarred" during "Come Here My Love".

⁵ Paisley will be opening for Bry Webb as part of the SummerWorks Music Series on Saturday, August 18, 2012. This show in particular (and the entirety of the well-curated concert series) is well-recommended.

Gig: Rebekah Higgs

Rebekah Higgs (Tasseomancy / Laura Barrett)

Rivoli. Saturday, February 12, 2011.

It was surprisingly well-lit when I walked into the Rivoli's backroom, finding a couple dozen people on hand, most filling up the tables along the room's west wall. As a compilation of reggae covers of popular hits played over the sound system, I saw the night's headliner and opener wandering the dancefloor, conspiring on how to create the right sort of atmosphere for the show. In the end, they grabbed some extra tables and set them up in front of the stage, reinforcing the notion that this was going to be a sit-down-pay-attention sort of gig. I stepped forward to help pull the tables in place — not so much out of gallantry as to be able to plunk myself down in a prime spot.

There were a few more bodies on hand as the lights went down, but not a huge crowd. Billed as a pre-Valentine's Day special, this was a rather under-promoted event. In fact, I came across it only by chance while flipping through the show listings, and no one that I mentioned it to had heard of it — not even those who would have been eager to have a too-rare opportunity to see expat Laura Barrett back in town. Temporarily relocated to Vancouver, Barrett led off some questions about dislocation in "Wood Between Words": "So, where are you bound this fall? Will I see you around? Where will you be moving on to?"¹

After that, though, came some interesting surprises, with Barrett putting down her trademark kalimba and switching over to autoharp for a new song that might be called "No Money at All". Although the same voice and smart songwriting shone through, that certainly brought a different edge to the song. She then moved over to the keyboard for another new one — this is less of a surprise for anyone that's seen her playing in The Hidden Cameras and so on, but unusual for her own set. Having adapted the kalimba partially as a means to stand out amongst a crowded field of singer-songwriters, it was a heartening sign to see that Barrett won't allow herself to be limited to her most identifiable shtick.

And thank goodness for that confidence on stage, for between the extra instrument swapping and the new songs, things were a bit awkward with some technical gremlins poking their heads out. That led to the tantalizing tease of Barrett teaching the crowd the refrain of "The Humble Fawn" (then unreleased, now available on the National Parks Project) before realizing there was a tuning problem and not being able to undertake the song. That leaves it as one to wait for.

The crowd stayed on-side despite the problems, or maybe even to some extent because of them — when an artist has such an easy rapport with their audience, things-going-awry feel less like gaffes and more like the sort of shared experiences between friends that you can laugh about and bond over. And here the seated, easygoing crowd was attentive throughout, praised by Barrett as "the best audience of the year".

There was a lot of banter about Valentine's day — Barrett had called "Ferryland" her only love song, but the set ended with "Deception Island Optimists Club" which has something of a Valentine's wish embedded in it.

"We're Tasseomancy... we're playing a Valentines Day show," said Sari Lightman (or, possibly, her twin sister Romy). "We played one before. [beat] It didn't go so well."

"No, it didn't go over so well," said Sari (or, possibly, Romy), completing her thought in that mildly-unnerving, possibly-telepathic we're twins! way that the sisters speak. Still, they did their Valentine's Day best, trying to relate the holiday to songs like "Anubis", which deals with hearts in a more visceral way. Think organ-consuming gods ripped from the pages of The Book of the Dead.

In fact, if some bands write songs that are like snapshots vividly capturing one instant of day-to-day life, think of the Lightmans' efforts as being more like rambles through dusty old books of arcane lore and soul-menacing occult secrets. Taking the stage with a spooky moan issuing from a record on a turntable, the band asked for the lights to be lowered until they were nearly in complete darkness before launching into the the expansive "Diana", a sort of song that exists inside its own elaborate world and pulls you into it, like a series of illustrated tableaux coming to life.

Stretching more than seven minutes, the song requires a bit of investment on the listener's part. "Ashkelon", running a bit longer, works on similar principles, but with less of a sing-song motif to cling to, it's dronier in a way that you're either going to have to surrender to, or possibly otherwise tune out. Still, despite the heavy motifs and unsprightly pacing, the Lightmans' magnetism pulled me into the songs. And in between, they maintained their chipper sense of humour, finding ways to relate the rest of the songs to Valentine's Day.

Although they've experimented with more expansive lineups, here it was just two voices, guitar and mandolin, and as they finished with one look to their older material (back to when they were known as Ghost Bees), "Erl King" was accompanied only by heavily-delayed mandolin. Even with only four songs, it was still a half-hour set, and quite arguably the strongest I have seen from the pair.²

Listen to a song from this set here.

More in line with ever-popular music and V-day topics of love and heartbreak, Rebekah Higgs, now based here in T.O., showed off her Halifax roots in leading off with a cover of Eric's Trip's "Behind the Garage". And though that's sure to warm the dusty cockles of any indie-loving Canadian heart of a certain age, that song, with a straight-ahead rock arrangement (Higgs on guit backed by bass, drums and keyb) didn't particularly show this unit in its best light. As I'd noted when I saw Higgs a few months previously, she's taken big steps forward from the pleasant-but-undistinguished work on her 2008 debut. The biggest strides have come sonically, especially in the manner she's appropriated some of the tricks from her Ruby Jean and the Thoughtful Bees dance-pop side-project. But without the extra textures, the more straight-ahead songs feel a little generic.

The contrast was made clear on the following "Lazy Morning", which slowed things down and embraced some more nuanced flourishes, such as bowed glockenspeil and effective vocal layering with the use of a looping pedal. The latter would be the key element of the bulk of the set, filled with songs from her now-released sophomore Odd Fellowship album. And there were some interesting variations in the arrangements — "Stick & Poke" ended in an accelerating spiral, like a teenager heading home drunk from the bar and trying to recreate the giddy childhood sensation of twirling around 'til you fall over.

Higgs seems to be aware of the delicate balancing required here: too much of the straight-ahead rock can be unremarkably same-y, but too much of the looping pedal and so on can get precious — but at the sweet spot in between all that, Higgs shows definite talent. Plus, she has an ear for no-doubt pop hooks, displayed on the fab "Little Voice" or "Gosh, Darn, Damn", which is a simple trifle of a thing, but with a chorus that can get stuck in your head all day. As long as Higgs can keep working out the mechanics of combining catchy-simple and intriguingly-textured — and perhaps upgrade to a drummer who can provide the material with the oomph it deserves — she'll definitely be doing work worth listening to.³

Listen to a song from this set here.

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¹ As of this writing, it appears that Barrett has returned to T.O. There's no word right now on any pending shows of her own stuff, but I do note that she will be alongside her friends in Sheezer when they reprise their annual Hallowe'en party — this year at Lee's Palace — on Friday, October 28, 2011.

² Indications that the band have truly hit their stride abound on their Timber Timbre-produced full-length Ulalume, out now from Out of This Spark. The band will be playing an album release show at The Great Hall on Thursday, October 20, 2011 and will also be opening for Austra (with whom the Lightmans are touring members) at The Phoenix on December 1, 2011.

³ Celebrating her new album, Higgs has a couple local dates coming up, including a return to the Rivoli on Thursday, September 15, 2011 as well as a show at The Drake Underground with Katie Moore on Sunday, October 2, 2011.

Gig: CMW 2010 (Friday)

CMW 2010^* (Friday) (feat. Julie Fader, Brian Borcherdt, Giant Hand, Gemma Ray, Dexateens, Sydney Wayser, Phantogram, Fergus Brown)

Friday, March 12, 2010.

8 P.M.-ish: Julie Fader @ The Music Gallery

Leaving the in-store at Criminal Records there was a cold wind to go with the persistent rain. Looking for the quickest path to shelter, trudged up to The Music Gallery with young T. to catch what we could of Julie Fader's set. This was one of those "limited wristband" events functioning more as a regular gig (for Wintersleep side-project Postdata) than a showcase, so we were mildly worried about getting in, especially as by the time we got there a warm and dry sanctuary was much needed. But the place wasn't too crowded — perhaps more of a "we're coming for the headliner" mentality was keeping the early numbers down, so we slipped in and managed to catch about five songs or so of Fader's set.

Long known for her support work to other artists (including Great Lake Swimmers and Chad VanGaalen), I'd been digging Fader's solo debut Outside In and waiting on a chance to see her playing some of this stuff live. This was certainly the right environment for it, with the loosely-packed crowd mostly sitting on the floor taking the drum-less combo in under the churchy arches. A stripped-down sort of sound, but rich in little touches from Randy Lee (violin) and Graham Walsh of Holy Fuck — Fader's producer and former band-mate. It was a pleasant surprise — but not a big shock — when "my friend Tony" that Fader called up to the stage was Tony Dekker of Great Lake Swimmers, adding some backing vox in a reversal of the situation I've probably seen Fader most frequently in. Pleasantly low-key and lovely — I could definitely stand to see a full set, and hope we get another chance in such fitting surroundings.

8:30 P.M.: Brian Borcherdt @ The Music Gallery

With time to kill before the next stop on the itinerary, stuck around to catch the first few songs from Brian Borcherdt, with the Holy Fuck-er working his singer/songwriter side. Although some of the songs — including the Kim Mitchell cover — were familiar to me from his solo set at the ALL CAPS Island show, what I heard this time 'round was a bit more filled-out and engaging, especially when he was joined by Walsh and Lee. Perhaps his solo stuff was growing on me — however, after a handful of songs it was back out into the rain to trudge down toward Spadina and King.

9 P.M.: Giant Hand @ Global Village Backpackers

A large festival sometimes plunks venues in somewhat unlikely places, so I guess it's not on the face of it absurd for acts to be playing at a "Hostel Party" stage. But there was a sort of weird disconnect for that to be the site of an acoustic singer-songwriter gathering. Even as I headed in to the venue, which turned out to be in the lounge/poolroom part of the hostel, I was worried that I was going to be feeling like an old man surrounded by dreadlocked/drunken young backpackers, busily out seeing the world. And, indeed, the long wall of the narrow room where the musicians were playing was adorned by a gigantic Jägermeister banner, and there were clearly more people using the space in its usual function than there were wristband-wearing masses out hoping for peace and quiet to hear the music. But, still, I've been in worse. Set off to one side in a semi-separate room, the "stage" was at least somewhat unique, a loosely-demarcated zone at one end of the room with a red wall behind the performers covered with a grid of white xmas tree-type lights.

"Hey everyone, I heard it's karaoke night, so I'm going to sing some Giant Hand songs," said Ottawa's Kirk Ramsay, who operates as a solo performer under that bandonym. Blessed with an attention-grabbing back story¹ and, more importantly, a solid debut album, Ramsay has been building up an audience through the time-tested tools of good tunes and DIY persistence. A guy and a guitar, the songs often unwound as two-chord vamps behind his quavery voice, all serving his persistent imagery of monsters and caves and dark places, decidedly non-metaphysical tussles with God and Satan, and an overwhelming fear of death and/or being forgotten.

Besides some of those Daniel Johnston songs that sent him off on this whole adventure, the artist that Ramsay brings most to mind is cartoonist Charles Burns — and not only in how the spareness of his music is along the same lines of Burns' stark monochromism. "Books", a new song, mines the same childhood fascination and dread as Big Baby while Ramsay's treatment of mythic themes — an extended metaphor connecting monster-dread to existential terror — aren't too far from, say, Black Hole.

The musical simplicity — at some level his songs might sound like stripped-down variations on America's "A Horse With No Name" — is an effective companion rather than a limitation, but it was also good to see him reaching a little further, using a looping pedal and some basic beats on his final track. It's worth noting that a third of his set was stuff not on his album, suggesting that he's writing new songs and advancing quickly.² An interesting guy, and worth checking out.

Listen to a track from this set here.

10 P.M.: Gemma Ray @ The Silver Dollar Room

With nothing strongly suggesting itself to me in this slot, I went with Bobby B.'s recommendation to check out Gemma Ray, over from London, and a completely unknown entity to me. Playing solo with electric guitar, the set started with a less-than-rosy opening, the artiste informing us, "my voice is completely gone, so I'll try and do one or two songs... maybe three". As she played her opening track, it was apparent she was struggling to reach the higher notes. But, though sounding somewhat froggy, she did work around it, dropping into a lower register and even a dramatic whisper at a couple points.³ And too bad, as it sounded like she was on to something interesting here — a pop sensibility shining through noirish twangy tunes. Visibly disappointed with losing her voice, Gemma Ray took shelter in — or, perhaps, revenge on — the music, turning in a roiling set that reflected her unhappy state. The heart of what she did play — and in the end, by stretching out her songs, we got something close to a full set's worth — was a series of covers⁴, starting with Etta James' "I'd Rather Go Blind".

It turned out that knife tucked into her guitar wasn't just for protection, as by the second tune she pulled it out to saw on the strings, adding loops of their howls to the songs. She was, in fact, equipped with a solid stock of pedals and gear to complicate her sound, including an entire second set at a second mic to add effects to her voice. The peak of it all was the finale, a run through Mudhoney's "Touch Me, I'm Sick" stretching out past seven minutes, the song turning into a deconstructed blues dirge over a drum loop. Obviously venting some frustration, the song ended in a haze of backwards vocal loops slipping into noise, with some gear getting pulled down along the way. I definitely felt for her, fighting her way through the set — and if there was an element of disappointment in that it only hinted at what she is capable of, it was tempered by being witness to a raw experience, and hopefully a set like no other for Gemma Ray. Let's hope she comes back this way to demonstrate her full range.

11:30 P.M.: Dexateens @ Comfort Zone

With the set ending early, I had a bit of extra time on my hands to play with. Looking at the schedule, I decided to switch things up and make a longer run afield, heading over to The Drake to check out Vancouver's Brasstronaut. So, hop on the streetcar, change at Queen and poke along westward to get there in decent time to catch the start of the set... only to be told at the door that the room is at capacity. Ugh. Well — no way I was going to wait around for people to leave, and there wasn't anything immediately scintillating nearby, so, minutes after arriving, I was retracting my steps almost right back to where I started.

Fortunately, Comfort Zone was starting its sets on the half-hour, so I got back there just in time as Dexateens were about to start. Hailing from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, the five-piece featured a three-guitar attack, but delivered with ferocious energy that suggested their roots included as much punk as Southern Rock. As a live unit, the focus was on the energy and rockin' more than the words and songcraft — they might be penning anthemic, well-spoken lyrics, but in this environment it was all full-speed ahead, no-bullshit rock, snarling guitars played with a grin.

The bandmembers were certainly wearing their roots on their sleeve, and everything about them said, "damn right I'm Southern", whether it was their overalls or switching gears mid-song for a mini hoedown. Bracing stuff, and though I didn't stick around for the end of the set, it gave me my second wind to keep going on the night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Midnight: Sydney Wayser @ Global Village Backpackers

With my rock quota fulfilled, made my way back down to the hostel to try my luck there again. A few hours on, the ambiance of the place was, unsurprisingly, boozier and blearier — less crowded, but those that remained were louder and drunker. Taking a gamble on an act whose myspace samples sounded a cut more interesting than anything else going on, hit the venue a bit late as Sydney Wayser was still getting ready to play. I must admit I was a bit worried about the singer/songwriter fungibility problem⁵ but the point of the wristband was to push myself a little — generically this was a sort of music that I have an interest in, but that I'd usually not go out and see.

New York-based Wayser — dressed in what appeared to be pyjamas — turned out to have a warm, inviting voice. Playing mostly on keybs, she was joined by Adam Tressler on guitar and backing vox, but the sound was generally spare throughout — "I keep it on the quiet side, usually," she commented to the sound man as she turned her volume down between songs. Showing some variety, she switched over to ukulele to sing an adequately dreamy song inspired by Before Sunrise, and on the next one added some glockenspiel (which required a jury-rigged sound setup, the mic dangling over the back of a chair). Singing over the background chatter and the occasional loud shout from the players at the pool table in the next room, it was generally a pleasant set. Perhaps not necessarily at the thin end of the fungibility bell curve, but solidly entertaining. Plus, Wayser was engaging enough on stage, getting some of her personality across, to make it a worthy live set.

1 A.M.: Phantogram @ Supermarket

Wayser's set ran a little long, and I was enjoying enough that I didn't feel any need to bolt before the end. As such, when my made my way down to a crowded Supermarket — where apparently no-one was working at the door, for I walked in without anybody wanting to see my wristband — to check out the next band on my "hey, why not?" list, their set was already underway. This was Phantogram, from Saratoga Springs NY — another band I knew pretty much nothing about, but had been twigged to by something on their myspace, or perhaps a stray mention I'd caught somewhere.

Whatever it was that's sent me this way, oh goodness but I wasn't feeling it. The duo were playing a synth-heavy kind of downer dance-pop, and it just wasn't something I was in the mood for. To be sure, I stuck around for about two-and-a-half songs before I bailed, walking over to the convenience store for some orange juice. On this night, electrolytes > Phantogram, though I am willing to affirm that might just have been my mood at the moment.

2 A.M.: Fergus Brown @ Rivoli

But I did feel like I had one more set in me, so I headed down Spadina one last time to Queen, and popped into the Rivoli. By this time of the night, it was pretty quiet in what had been a night-long Australian showcase. Many of the remaining patrons looked like they might have been playing earlier and were now mostly hanging at the back and enjoying the facility's extended licence hours. Which is to say there wasn't a large crowd on hand that looked like they'd dropped in just to hear Fergus Brown play. But Brown took to the stage as if intent to gain a few converts regardless. Starting off backed only with bass, he was joined by various members of fellow Australians Dead Letter Chorus, who were also from Sydney, Australia, but whom he met in an airport in Nova Scotia. The addition of a rhythm section and Gabrielle Huber's harmony vox brought "Nerds in Love" to life, but the songs done solo (such as "Little Pinks or Blues") worked nicely as well.

Once again, there was that problem of singer-songwriter fungibility, as I sat listening for that one little thing that separated this guy from the horde of guys doing music like this. And I actually found it, to some extent, with "John, She Was Never Only Dancing", a sly sort of much-after-the-fact answer song with some crafty references ("She talks like Susie Sontag / she walks like Siouxsie Sioux"). And though a couple of his songs sort of felt a bit too much like typical fare, on the whole Brown pulled it off with an undercurrent of slightly-subversive/slightly goofy wit.

Listen to a track from this set here.

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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 In short: man watches The Devil and Daniel Johnston, decides to get a guitar and make up a few songs, and within months is playing shows.

² I'm guessing some of these will surface on a new EP being recorded with Rolf Klausener of the Acorn.

³ It would turn out that what she referred to as her "man voice" wasn't just a product of a bad cold, but the onset of laryngitis, which would cause her to cancel her other CMW appearance.

⁴ She has apparently just recorded an album's worth of covers, charmingly titled It's a Shame About Gemma Ray.

⁵ Which is to say, I guess, that like light-hitting left fielders that cover a lot of ground, there's a massive oversupply of singer-songwriters, and it's hard sometimes to work up the enthusiasm to try and separate the merely good-enough from the excitingly engaging ones. When a loud rock band isn't quite doing anything original, they can still captivate with volume and performance, but when it's more on the words and performer, there's a lot less to hide behind — so, one might conclude, other things being equal, a marginally interesting singer-songwriter is less entertaining than a marginally interesting band rocking out.

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.