Gig: Wavelength FIFTEEN - Night 1

Wavelength FIFTEEN – Night 1 (feat. Skeletones Four / More Or Les / Lockbox / Hervana / Delta Will / Most People / Art Bergmann / controller.controller)

Sneaky Dee's. Friday, February 13, 2015.

Dividing this year's three festival nights into past, present and future, the opener saw the band returning to Sneaky Dee's, home to the series for the bulk of its lifespan as a weekly series. It's not a venue I find myself at much these days, so there is a faint hint of nostalgia in being there. Upstairs, not much has changed. The paint on the ceiling is peeling a little, adding to the sensation of stepping into a dusty memory. But the drinks are still cheap.

The evening was split into two distinct parts, the first of which was a series of cover sets which saw the sorts of bands you might see at a Wavelength nowadays covering the sorts of bands you might have seen onstage in the series' early times. This turned out to be a great success, with all of the bands pulling it off — some even managed to impart their own spin on the material. And even with three-song mini-sets, quick turnovers managed to keep the momentum up.

Skeletones Four started the night off by paying tribute to WL's Guelph connections, covering the songs of Jim Guthrie (who just happened to be in the crowd). "Evil Thoughts" could have passed as something from the band's own catalogue and the band brought a nice menacing undertone to it; "Virtue" and "So Small" had a bit more lightness to them.

Listen to a song from this set here.

That got things started, but the still-growing crowd was really fired up by More Or Les, who gave a quick history lesson in T.O. hip-hop, pulling out tunes from Saukrates and Kardinal Offishall before calling up some of the all-stars of Hip Hop Karaoke (including Kryptonite, Mr. Mischief, June & Pilaf, Dirty D) to bring Rascalz' posse cut "Northern Touch" to life. The coup de grace here was getting Thrust, who appeared on the original, to join in.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Keyboardist/vocalist Laura Barrett was later heard asking around if anyone could identify what genre Lockbox fell into, a fair question given the range of sounds they had to tackle to play the songs of Owen Pallett. Playing the songs without a violin would give them a different sound, but doing so without the use of Pallet's loop pedal meant having to reconstruct them from the ground up. The recent "Song for Five & Six", with its squiggly Abba-esque synth line required the least re-jigging. "Keep the Dog Quiet" registered as jittery new wave while "Many Lives → 49 MP" (with a Tubular Bells kind of vibe) progged out — "be prepared to dance in a bunch of different time signatures," was the warning at the outset. Barrett, a fine singer, sometimes seemed a little unsure whether to go high or low to match Pallett's vocals, but on the whole the re-constructions came together rather well. This was the début for this new unit (with Sarah Buchanan on drums, Jeff DeButte on bass and Niall Fynes on guit), and hopefully we'll be getting a chance to hear them tackle some original material.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Hervana (who are, as their name implies, an all-female Nirvana cover band) tackled Constantines, a rather different sounding band, theoretically united by the fact that both were briefly on Sub Pop. The fact that the band's re-interpretations felt a bit less "lived in" than some of the other covers could have made them the superficial work of, well, a cover band. But the Cons were at their best when things were fiery-fresh and uncertain, so Hervana's sense of newness worked in their favour. "Soon Enough" felt a bit inert to start, but "Young Lions" and "Shine a Light" had the right sort of raw energy.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Delta Will gave a historical overview of Manitoba/Caribou, leading off with "Hendrix With Ko" from Dan Snaith's artistic breakthrough Up in Flames. The band, this time out a four-piece with Sexy Merlin's Sean Dunal on drums, caught that song's reconstructed psychedelic vibe quite nicely before moving forward to "She's the One" and "Can't Do Without You", each a bit more dance-floor focused than the one before. Frontman Charles Tilden brought a particular sense of detail to matching up some of Snaith's sampled sounds.

Listen to a song from this set here.

The perfect Broken Social Scene cover set would probably involve someone rambling onstage for fifteen minutes about hugs, the power of forgiveness and the existential consequences of feeling fucked up inside while a dozen people milled around behind them tuning endlessly. Instead, Most People focused on the songs, doing a superior job of re-interpreting them in their own voice rather than slavishly copying them. They slid further in that direction over their trio of songs, with "Sweetest Kill" coming off the closest to the original while treating "Lovers Spit" and "7/4 (Shoreline)" more like Most People tunes — instead of finding a Feist fill-in on the latter, Paul McEachern handled the high vocal parts. Closing out the first half of the night, this definitely had a headliner vibe.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Even after half-a-dozen short sets, the night was only halfway over. Celebrating the past in a different way, Can-rock icon Art Bergmann made his Wavelength début. Ever since forming the K-Tels in 1978, Bergmann has been a voice in the wilderness and a cog in the machine, trying to slip his raw testimonials into the prevailing discourse. Fighting health troubles and a depleted muse, Bergmann has been living in Alberta for the past decade, mostly off the radar (save for an occasional special appearance), and it was a pleasant surprise last year to hear of his return with a new EP. The four tunes on Songs For the Underclass are as pointed as the disc's title in their last-chance lamentations for a world gone wrong.

Whether all that would be appreciated by the large segment of the crowd that looked too young to remember his cultural presence looked uncertain. "Yeah, we're covering something named Art," Bergmann off-handedly muttered near the start of his set, picking up on the vibe. That double joke sailed over the audience's heads, and Bergmann seemed a little disappointed at these modern audiences that don't boisterously rise to the occasion, or even heckle more than half-heartedly.

He was definitely not disappointed with his "Toronto band", who were in fine form. Powered by Chris Wardman on guitar, Bergman was soon swapping grins as the band powered through his back catalogue. There's an embarrassment of riches in his songbook, and it was a thrill to hear high-powered versions of "Remember Her Name", "Beatles in Hollywood", "Bound For Vegas", "Contract" and more. "Drones of Democracy", the first track from the new one provided the set's climax, a sweeping song that owes more than a little something to the slow-burning lament of Neil Young's "Cortez The Killer."

Some of that goodness was definitely lost on the crowd, who started to drift away as the set wore on. After the short, sharp bursts of the cover sets, the hour-and-a-quarter here felt a little long in the context of the night, and too much perhaps to engage the casually interested. But I was glad to have seen Bergmann put on an impressive show that maintained its power and focus throughout.¹

Listen to a couple songs from this set here.

The crowd was listing a bit and the hour was growing late as the night's last act took the stage. Still, given it was about seven years since controller.controller last played a proper gig, waiting up past one in the morning probably wasn't too much of an extra burden. Precisely of their moment with that mid-aughts hi-hat riding death disco sound, it's probably been long enough for them sound to feel fresh again, and the band hit the stage with a jolt-you-awake groove, launching the slashing dual guitars of signature song "History" into a suddenly-heaving dancefloor.

A couple missed cues and other signs of rustiness couldn't spoil the celebratory vibe, though a bass malfunction after the second song momentarily brought the energy back down. (Ironically, it happened right around when Basnayake was singing "if things can go wrong, they'll only go wrong" during "Silent Seven".)

Once Ronnie Morris secured a replacement (courtesy of Most People), he did his best to bring things back up, mugging expressively, dancing as he played, and eventually taking to the crowd. Meanwhile vocalist Nirmala Basnayake was all smiles as she made the obligatory getting-older jokes and cajoled drummer Jeff Scheven to try and approach the tempos they could tackle in their heyday.

A new twitter account implies this reunion wasn't a one-off and the reaction from the crowd implied that some of the folks that missed them the first time around were taking notice. Stay tuned.

Listen to a song from this set here.

---

¹ After the set, I saw Bergmann popping out of the off-stage area with a cigarette in his hand, which he proceeded to light and take a puff from as he stepped down from the stage. While I was amused at the punkrock disregard for the rules that was more evident in the sixty-two year old singer than in the audience, I didn't realize 'til after the fact that that transgression was enough to get Bergmann bounced from the venue. When's the last time any of the would-be young badasses you saw perform manage to get turfed from their own show?

Gig: Crystal Stilts

Crystal Stilts (Actual Water / Les Fräuleins)

Sneaky Dee's. Sunday, May 22, 2011.

It's sorta interesting that two-piece bands, even when — or especially when — playing minimalist/abrasive music, tend to counter that with a strict visual sensibility.¹ I don't know if the stripped-down rigour of the two piece corresponds with design-school aspirations, but Les Fräuleins certainly felt conceptually mulled-over, and their visual presentation was one of their more distinct elements. Setting up, there was as much time dedicated to their fluorescent lights as there were to their guitars, and though some were laid flat on the stage floor, they also had some that were set into repurposed guitar cases, opened up and leaning against the gear on stage.

Also playing together in the more shoegaze-y Beliefs, Patrick McCormack² and Jesse Crowe bring a low-slung minimal churn to this side project, mostly composed of two guitars, ipod drum tracks and a lot of volume. Drum machine-era JAMC, a less pop-inclined Raveonettes or a de-psychedelicized Moon Duo come to mind here. McCormack (who sang as well throughout) switched to a bass for a few songs, though that didn't actually change the overall sound very much.

The songs traded in a sort of numbing regularity, which is probably not a universal selling point, but can be pretty compelling when they get in the right groove. I got the feeling that this is a bit of a pleasant diversion for the pair, given that they were selling their records on a PWYC basis and their main online presence seems to be a semi-abandoned myspace profile. But so far as I know, they are still a going concern and are worth checking out.

Listen to a track from this set here.

The "flower punk with no lack of heaviosity" of Actual Water had really clicked with me the first time I saw 'em, and their alchemy of pop structure and buzzing noise felt like a world-beater.³ As so often happens, tactical moves seemed to drag momentum down a bit, and there was a longer-than-expected post-release gestation for their The Paisley Orchard album. Originally self-released in 2010, it was picked up by Unfamiliar, leaving the album in a bit of limbo prior to its wider re-release in 2012.⁴

But at this moment, the band were powerfully possessing the songs and the hard-edged 12-string sound, leading off their set with a version of "The Situation" that was notably cleaner and less-distorted than the album version, revealing the jangly sock-hopper underneath. If it weren't for singer Tony Price's 12-string work, this song would be a lot like, say, White Wires.

That said, after the first couple songs, Price picked up the 6-string as the band tackled both sides of their "She's a Priest"/"Latoya" single, and switching out the Rickenbacker didn't radically change the band's sound. These ones are a bit more overt in borrowing from punk's velocity and no-frills arrangements — perhaps owing to the influence of producer Ben Cook — but most of the band's songs are still done in well under three minutes.

The band was really firing on all cylinders for this set, hitting just the right tone of jagged imperfection and rock'n'roll joy, and getting a little noisier on "Pencil-Legged" and "Caroline Ave.", a couple numbers from 2008's Double Negatives, and after that the awesome la-la-la-la-la-la chorus of "Brighton" encapsulated pretty much everything excellent about this band.

it's reductive to just call them jangle-pop revivalists, cut as that is with so much more, like closer "Vari Baby"'s 80's power pop-isms. It's probably more on point to think that the specific musical signifiers they're playing with here — like the casual but carefully-curated JD look of their blazers, leather jackets and boots — aren't the core of what they do so much as one of a series of experiments in pop production. Given the amount of time they've been playing behind this material, it's no surprise that in more recent shows the band is moving beyond the 12-string sound that was at its height here. It wouldn't be surprising to see them re-emerge in another guise altogether.

Listen to a track from this set here.

I had last seen Crystal Stilts in 2008, in what I thought was a so-so performance that didn't measure up to their debut album. This would turn out to be the inverse of that show, as I came in less-enamoured with follow-up album In Love with Oblivion, but a superb performance would give me the impetus to revisit it and realize its strengths.

There was a different drummer than last time around, but he was still employing a stand-up kit.⁵ The band was also obscured by flickering, abstract-y projections, which went well with their amped-up psychedelic haze-punk.

They started off, like the album, with a rising overture of sorts leading into "Sycamore Tree", with JB Townsend's guitar line rubbing against Kyle Forester's keyboards which added some cosmic trippiness to counter the jittery flinching around it. And at the centre of it all was vocalist Brad Hargett and his baritone croon, intoning, "I want to know why!"

Hargett embodied the angry bleakness of the lyrics — look at that album title again — looking mostly undemonstrative in a tightly collared jacket, zipped all the way up. A slightly discomfiting look, Hargett appeared like a houseguest that comes in but won't take off his coat and won't sit down, looming over the hosts and standing around the living room rambling on about graveyards.

As Hargett cycled through various shades of apparent disinterest in the proceedings around him, the task of bantering with the crowd was handled by keyboard player Forester, who spent some time asking the crowd about the nature of the May long weekend. In turn, the dancefloor was quite packed in up front with a very into-it, dance-y crowd.

After "Through the Floor", the band dipped back to debut full-length Alight of Night for "Crystal Stilts", which came off much more sprightly without all the layers of reverb-y murk that are on the recorded version, though it was still opaque enough to illustrate lyrical sentiments like "we're courting dreams / we're snorting dreams / distorting dreams".

I rather dug "Silver Sun", which had some of the same implied jangle that Actual Water had brought to the table. But here, that was one ingredient mushed together with a crushed-up valium and, say, an early Chills vibe. And after the rather-excellent "Shake the Shackles", I realized that this set was just getting better and better — they were playing with the dialed-in-ness of a band at the end of a long tour. Main set closer "Prometheus at Large" stretched out a bit, and "Blood Barons" in the encore had a punk floyd sort of breakdown.

Live, the music all comes together as a razor-sharp, stripped-down coiled psychedelia. Quick songs with downer lyrics — even "Love is a Wave", which sounds like it might offer some sunny sentiments, doesn't: "Love is a wave / Hate is included / Sometimes my angels may feel prostituted". So even if the band were a little static on stage, it was riveting stuff, and an excellent set.

Right after the show I posted a track here — and now you can also check out another one here.

---

¹ The red and white aesthetic of The White Stripes is the obvious example here, but closer to home, there's also the meticulous layout of Japandroids' releases that run counter to their unkempt freedom rock (and a top-notch variety of t-shirts, to boot!) as well as the typographic fastidiousness of The Famines out of Edmonton.

² McCormack is also in Neon Windbreaker.

³ The pop power and forward-looking retro flourishes are surely also an influence on Slim Twig in his recent return to playing with a band and increasing experimentation with pop structure.

⁴ The Paisley Orchard still seems unusually difficult to obtain online right now; you can sample a couple songs at their bandcamp but the whole thing seems elusive to legitimately find, though Unfamiliar claims to be working on that.

⁵ Frankie Rose was still in the band the last time I saw 'em. Keegan Cooke, her replacement, was also absent at this show due to border issues, with a fill-in only identified as "Shades" in his stead.

Gig: The Donkeys

The Donkeys (The Elwins)

Sneaky Dee's. Saturday, May 21, 2011.

From time to time you'll hear people (especially those with a few more years/gigs under their belts) bemoan the fact that all the good shows start ridiculously late — goodness knows I've lamented that no shortage of times. But by the same measure, when there actually are early shows, not so many people show up, so there's not much incentive for promoters to change their ways. Case in point for this No Shame-presented show — when I arrived at Sneaky Dee's (having made it through the Rapture with no visible harm) the evening's light was still streaming in through the windows, and there was only a handful of patrons to be seen.

The numbers on hand were thinned down even more by the fact that last-minute complications left openers The Elwins without drummer Travis Stokl. The band pressed ahead in trio configuration, with Feurd Moore shifting to fill in behind the kit.

Starting with "Forgetful Assistance", the set mostly contained songs that would end up on recently-released full length And I Thank You.¹ Unsurprisingly, being a hand short rendered the songs a little more spare than they would usually be, but that also allowed the stately pop simplicity at the heart of tunes like "Propinquity" to shine through. Compared to the lush production job on the album, this would have been a little austere were it not for the heavy doses of sunshine that vocalist/guitarist Matthew Sweeney had woven into the songs' cores.

Besides the And I Thank You songs, there was also "Time To Kill Time" (from their 2008 EP), and they closed out with "A Little Longer".² Given the improvised arrangements, it was no surprise that the band kept it short, tackling just a half-dozen songs — and then ending with a big group hug on stage for getting through it. A slightly unusual set for the band, but certainly memorable.

Listen to a track from this set here.

The encouraging cheers from members of The Donkeys during The Elwins set seemed to arise from the fact that were were short-handed as well — although they had all of their members on hand, border troubles kept one of their travelling party from making it into town. Once on stage, the band lead off with the entirely self-descriptive "West Coast Raga", which, like the bulk of the set, was pulled from their then-just-released Born with Stripes.

On the one hand this was a bit of a musical outlier, with guitarist Jessie Gulati playing a credible sitar that wouldn't make another appearance. But there were clues to their sound there, aligning with other faucets in the songs that followed: this was a band that seemed to take everyone who had performed at Monterey Pop and boiled them down into a thick acid rock paste cut with Americana rootsy-ness. There were some hints of peyote-ish psychedelia and an ability to let songs drift into a stoned-haze groove, although the band never let things drift into jammy uncomfortability.

Lead vocals seemed to rotate around a bit, but drummer Sam Sprague seemed to have the most impact. But with all of those various genres and voices, the band still managed to have a unified sound. The set also included a few from the previous Living on the Other Side like "Nice Train" and "Excelsior Lady", which hinted at a softer 70's Bread-ish AOR vibe. That didn't leave the set feeling too retro, and the band were bullish on the merits of their songs, saying of "Oxblood": "this is gonna be a big hit the next time we're around".

Ambitious visions given that they were playing to a pretty thin crowd, with maybe a half-people up in front of the stage, and a few more sitting on the stools along the east wall. There were some folks hanging out at the back, but it's always hard to evaluate how much they were even following the show. The forty-minute set closed with "Downtown Jenny", and there was no encore — although I'd put that down as much to the need to clear the stage for the following DJ night.

A solid performance, and there's no doubt this is a talented unit — triangulating their ambition, hooks and scruffiness they're somewhere on the retro-rock continuum between, say, The War on Drugs and Yukon Blonde. Given that there does seem to be a hankering for this kind of sound, with the right breaks these guys could indeed be playing to packed crowds in larger rooms. But if they've listened to all those albums by the bands they're channelling, they surely know that rock'n'roll is a damned fickle mistress.

Listen to a track from this set here.

---

¹ This is, it should be mentioned, a pretty snazzy bit of work, so effortlessly refined to a warm retro-pop glow that it's easy to miss just how well-constructed the songs are. It's available on CD, as well as the band's Bandcamp and is definitely recommended.

² I only know that one from its Wood & Wires performance.

Gig: Disappears

Disappears (Lovers Love Haters)

Sneaky Dee's. Tuesday, June 22, 2010.

Woe to the touring band that hits town on a stinkin' Tuesday night. Unless you've somewhat established or riding some hype, it's tough to get people out. Even still, I was surprised to find a nearly-empty venue when I climbed the stairs up to Sneaks. Even as the openers took the stage, there weren't many bodies in front of the stage.

I had never heard of Lovers Love Haters, and as they hit the first strains of "Dead End Trail" — also the first track on their agreeable self-released EP — the first thing I jotted in my notebook was "sounds like: The Organ". Which, I found out after, turned out to be on point as frontwoman Debora Cohen was, in fact, the guitarist in that band. That's not to say that this is just a re-hash, but obviously Cohen helped shaped The Organ's sound and is working from some of the same aesthetic starting points, which include mopey British rock à la The Smiths, spiky guitars and greysky keyboards. Described as a "bicoastal solo project", the band apparently features Cohen working with different collaborators both here and in Vancouver. Backed by guit/bass/keyb/drums, she kept to the mic for this show, though wasn't a big banterer between songs, at one point commenting, "we're Lovers Love Haters... and that's about it."

Good performances all around — well rehearsed, but a bit stiff like a pair of shoes not yet fully broken in.¹ "Poison" featured a nice guitar line and was pretty enjoyable, as was "Sounds and Silences". Besides the six songs from their EP, they threw in a cover² for a concise set. The band has an enjoyable sound, and certainly shows promise. In a sense, they've arrived fully-formed, but one also gets the sense that so far they're mining deep within one vein and it will be interesting to see how things grow from here.

Listen to a track from this set here.

In a slightly surreal touch, a Beach Boys megamix played in the background as Disappears get ready to play. A pretty straightforward two-guitar set-up, no huge racks of pedals or anything like that. I look around while they're tuning and count about a dozen people in the room. Looks like word hasn't gotten around.

Myself, I was intrigued by what I'd read about the band — their debut album Lux was being released by the venerable Kranky label, even if it falls outside of that label's usual sound. I'd picked it up and had found their guitar rock right down my alley — lean but not austere and simplistic but not minimal. The musical attack brought to mind rigourous deadpan chugging of The Fall (though not at all similar in the vocal delivery). Or think of it, maybe, as the bastard offspring of "TV Eye" and "European Son" and, maybe, a skipping record. It's not for nothing that their listed influences include "repetition". There's definitely a Krautrock thing going on — seen both in their visuals on their album art to the fact they had some shows opening up for Michael Rother's Hallogallo 2010 project. Musically, it's well encapsulated in their album's title track.

Live, there was an extra layer of distortion on frontman Brian Case's vocals that's not there on the recordings.³ Besides material from Lux the band played a new one called "Guider", which was a bit faster than the other ones, and sported a fuzzy bassline. But largely the music was consistent loud, controlled aggression.

Case wasn't a big talker, and the songs mostly slid straight from one to the next, making for a fiercely efficient thirty-five minute set. Without much of a crowd to react back, my reaction was more cerebral than visceral, but I think if there were more bodies on the floor they'd be reacting to the music. Wrong place, wrong time, I guess — if these guys were on stage at The Silver Dollar on a Saturday night, they'd gain more than a few converts. Hopefully they'll make it back to these parts.⁴

A couple tracks from this set: check out one that appears on Lux here and one that doesn't here.

---

¹ Although, to be sure, this kind of music is sort of stiff by its nature — you wouldn't expect them to get funky with it or anything.

² Which I couldn't identify — the chorus-y bit went something like "under the brutal moon / what could be done to her?" Anyone know it?

³ Case is also involved with 90 Day Men, as well as The Ponys, who I recall having seen opening for Spoon back in '07.

⁴ The band has a fair amount of music — two singles and a live album — that you can grab for free at their website, should you want to check them out.

NXNE 2010: Saturday (Part 2)

NXNE — North by Northeast Festival, Toronto, 2010.

Saturday, June 18, 2010. Featuring: Comanechi, The Strange Boys, The Peelies

c. 1:45 a.m.: Comanechi @ The Silver Dollar

Heading out from the D'Urbervilles set, I made a slightly quixotic stroll over to Wrongbar to see if there'd be any chance to get in for Les Savy Fav. No dice — the place was at capacity with a sizable lineup. So I walked right past to the streetcar stop. A guy with a ukulele in one hand and an open can of beer in the other staggered by, bumping into most things. I made my way out of Parkdale.

And anyways, no festival feels complete without a trip to the Silver Dollar to check out Dan Burke's hand-picked rock'n'roll rabblerousers. As I walked up into the venue, I has to squeeze in to a pretty crazy room full of frothing people. Comanechi, finishing off a three-night NXNE stand, were getting the place — to use a technical term — all batshit crazy.

The duo of Simon Petrovitch (guitar) and Akiko Matsuura (drums/vocals)¹ come from the London punk scene. A bit like a Bizarro-world version Lullabye Arkestra, the band features damaged Sabbath riffs, like early Sonic Youth on an angel dust binge, plus Matsuura's shouty/screamy vox — a bit like Miho Hatori's shoutiest moments in Cibo Matto times about twelve. Shortly after I arrived, Matsuura came out from behind the kit — she was replaced by a guest drummer identified only as "Troy" — to get close to the heaving crowd for the band's most noted song, "My Pussy". Ostensibly about a lost cat — paging Mrs. Slocombe! — the song had at least a veneer of subtext, and with the grinding guitar and shouting vocals, was kinda fun. Closer "Big Cock" was, um, less subtle, in the way that a sledgehammer to the face is not subtle. Having caught about fifteen minutes of this, I had the sense that that was about enough — the band mostly seems to grind in one gear, so one's reaction is probably going to relate to how fun you find that mode. A little bit terrible, maybe a tiny bit awesome too.

2:15 a.m.: The Strange Boys @ The Silver Dollar

Ofttimes at NXNE, a place will clear out pretty thoroughly between sets, but here, the floor stayed packed, with people jockeying for spots near the stage. There was definitely a more palpable sense of of anticipation than usual. The Strange Boys, also playing nightly sets, were obviously getting some repeat customers, with people shouting out requests in between songs. The band, out of Austin, have been around for awhile, releasing two full-lengths, and building a rep for their live show, which seemed perfectly aimed at the Silver Dollar set.

"What you all hootin' and a-hollin' about?" asked Jenna Thornhill-DeWitt (ex- of the now-defunct Mika Miko) between songs. A fairly recent addition to the band, she added backing vox and played sax — more in a disruptive post-punk fashion than with R&B grace. That and singer-guitarist Ryan Sambol's Fucked Up shirt were the most overtly "punk" things about the band, though there was some punk in their attitude to back the music, a rangy, wired-up rock'n'roll sound.

There were some sound problems throughout, with out-of-control feedback bursts and the like, but the band wore it well. And there were undoubtedly some good moments, especially when they brought a bit of southern-fried goodness to bear, like on "Be Brave" (the title track to their recent second album).

"We're gonna do a cover we've never done before," Sambol said toward the end of the set. "It might be sloppy, but you guys deserve it." It turned out to be Dusty Springfield's "Son of a Preacher Man", also nicely in the band's sweet spot. At some other points I wasn't especially overpowered, but there was a lot of energy in the crowd for this.

Listen to a track from this set here.

3:30 a.m.: The Peelies @ Sneaky Dee's

Made a quick dash from the Dollar at the end of The Strange Boys set, which ended late. Thought I might miss the start of The Peelies, but they were still setting up when I got in. Which was good news for me, but also a sign that they were having an awful lot of gear trouble, and the late start was soon dragging out to a very late start — if the band weren't the last of the night, it might have been doubtful if they could have got this set off at all. It looked like the band was scrambling to deal with a dead amp, but eventually they got themselves set up, with some help from Femke Berkout of The Hoa Hoa's, who stayed up on stage for part of the set playing tambourine.

I'd dug the Montréal quartet last time I'd seen 'em, and was glad to have a chance to get caught up with them, especially as they lead off with the delightful "Merde in French" — a song which puts their best feet forward with a rambunctious beat, snarling guitars, and semi-comprehensible French lyrics ending with a smiling "la la la la". Even when their lyrics are filled with put-downs, there's an underlying sunniness to their sound which goes well with their frills-free music. Once things got going, it was a lively set, though there was a mildly annoying/riled-up crowd in the venue — part of that funnelling effect of the late last call where the drunkest people all end up packed together into the last venue going. That element got louder as the set went on, and the patched-together gear got dodgier — one song toward the end had a constant feedback-y hum in the background that apparently no-one could get rid of. I was glad to see the band, and they did pretty good under the circumstances, but it wasn't the best of all possible sets. Still, I enjoy what they do and wouldn't hesitate to see them again when they make it back to this end of the 401.

So, circa four a.m., wrapped up another year's festival.² It gets to be a bit of a slog, yes, but for now, it's good to pack in a bit of music overload. Maybe by the time it rolls around next year I'll have developed enough maturity and refinement to keep me away from the whole circus, though that seems doubtful.

---

¹ Matsuura is also in noise band PRE, plus serves as a touring drummer with The Big Pink.

² Although I did catch some of the "Live in Bellwoods" picnic series in Trinity Bellwoods park the next afternoon, with relaxed acoustic sets from Olympic Island, The Peelies, Allie Hughes, the Elwins and Ruby Coast. But I was pretty burned out by then, and was more there to relax, so those sets are "off the record". You can see some video of these performances at Live in Bellwoods, though.

Gig: Wavelength 500 (night 3)

Wavelength 500 (night 3) (feat. From Fiction, The Bicycles, Laura Barrett, Magic Cheezies, Young Mother)

Sneaky Dee's. Friday, February 12, 2010.

The third night of the Wavelength Festival returned to the series' spiritual home base, where nearly three-quarters of the Sunday night shows had taken place. Showed up shortly after doors to find a bit of a lineup outside, but it was only a few minutes' wait to get in. Word was, after the fact, that some people showing up later had had a dire time getting in, so I guess I'm glad I was there in good time. Climbing up the stairs, it felt good to be in Sneaky Dee's, just something comforting and right about that space. All the more so with the swirling General Chaos lights feeling like they were back home, too. Like a "regular" Wavelength night, it was a little thin in the early going, even as things got started at about ten to ten.

A five-piece band on stage, with drummer, two saxophonists, bassist, and a guy with a bunch of electronics and a beat-up, old TV, the tube pretty much blown, emitting just a single, failing blob of light on the screen. This was Young Mother, who, on their myspace, pretty much swathe themselves in anonymity, though some searching does indicate that it's the project of one Jesse James Laderoute.¹ Commenting, "we're going to play one song, how's that sound?" the band launched into a nearly five-minute introductory segment, with rising saxes and bursts of TV static before a regular bass line and drum rhythm kicked in. Suddenly, there was a bit of a jaunty, dark pop song here, Laderoute singing about being "a million miles away" as the band chugged behind him. And then back to the squall of static and bleating saxes, and the set ended with the speaker of the TV fuzzily spitting out one of those propagandistic messages from the government about "Canada's Economic Action Plan". One song, yes, but a bit more than fifteen minutes overall.

Quite good stuff, reminiscent of the avant-punk music coming out Cleveland in the mid-70's — this band wouldn't sound out of place next to some stuff by the Numbers Band or groups of that ilk. And as I was standing there at Sneaks, the General Chaos visuals roiling behind, a thin crowd up front, and a band working out some unconventional rock moves, I was happily thinking to myself, "this is Wavelength!"

Listen to an excerpt from this set here.

Still a lot of room on the floor as the From Fiction people started settling in (about whom, more anon) and Magic Cheezies took the stage. Shouting out her mic check in about three seconds flat ("Check-check-check! W-w-w-woah ah-hurgh ah-ah-ah! Okay, we're good.") singer/guitarist Heather Curley gave a hint of the conciseness to come. A rough start to the set, the first song going about thirty seconds before Curley waved it off, making some amp adjustments and calling for a do-over. A bit of roughness even after that, with Mark McLean's bass² dropping in and out a little. By about their third song (which, given their song lengths, was about four minutes along) they were settling in, though from those original sound issues on forward, you could get the sense that the band wasn't entirely happy with how they were sounding. From the floor, though, it was good stuff, and rough edges wear well with this music — fast, brash punk, Kleenex-via-riot grrrl style. Curley led with her buzzsaw guitar and a roll of her eyes, her vox and body language suggesting, "oh, I'm bored with you." The set went nine songs with an average length less than ninety seconds, and if this was the band on an "off" night — though it sure didn't seem that way to me — by the end I was eager to see 'em with all cylinders firing.

And then, an object lesson in how an audience can have an effect on an artist. Right up front, against the stage, there was a small group of young people³ that had clearly come down not to celebrate Wavelength and see a bunch of cool bands, but to come to a From Fiction show — a different sort of conceptual mindset altogether. Looking them over, I was mildly apprehensive that they might be a tad, um, insensitive to the other patrons who were there for the other bands, and talk loudly amongst themselves until their band came on.

Especially in the face of the decidedly delicate creations of Laura Barrett. As Jonny Dovercourt took the stage to introduce her, they were rather boisterous. Again explaining to the crowd that he was substituting for Doc Pickles, one shouted, "I like you! You're awesome!"

"I like the cut of these guys' jibs," said Dovercourt.

Which set them to chanting, "Yeahhhh! Jibs!" — they were a bunch that could be described as 'easy to get to chant'.

"Yes... the future..." Dovercourt half-muttered, gesturing at the group in front of him, not quite keeping a laugh out of his voice, "is right here."

"Jibs!" shouted another, a step behind the conversation.

Getting back on track with the intro, he noted, "this musician plays an amazing instrument called the kalimba..."

And this was immediately take up by the group, shouting "Kalimba!" at each other, as Laura Barrett took the stage. Playing solo to start, she was just hitting the first notes of the intro as one shouted, "more kalimba!".

Much to my surprise, though, the group didn't immediately start talking to each other — they actually paid attention, and when Barrett hit the instrumental break with a flourish, there were again appreciative shouts of "kalimba!". They continued after the song as the rest of the band took the stage, and as Barrett was switching instruments and checking her monitor levels, she reported back to Chantal the sound tech, "all I can hear is these guys saying 'kalimba'."

Playing on this night with a three-piece backing band of Ajay Mehra on banjo, plus the double-duty-doing duo of Randy Lee (violin) and Dana Snell (flute and vox), both of whom'd be back on stage with The Bicycles. In the midst of a string of rather high-profile gigs opening for The Magnetic Fields, the band was in awfully good form, even if mildly discombobulated from facing a crowd probably quite unlike any they'd encountered lately in the soft-seaters.

"Somebody learned a new word today," Barrett commented after the now-obligatory shouts of "kalimba!" at one song's end. Running with it, Mehra commented to the group in front of him, "you know, usually the kalimba goes inside a calabash shell," eliciting some shouts back of "Callllllllllabash!", and "where's the calabash?" but that didn't prove to have as much sticking power. Throughout, Barrett managed to maintain an air of bemusement at this, and in turn, the group were surprisingly into it, clapping along to "Consumption".⁴

As Lee and Snell departed for the final song, Mehra remained on stage for "Robot Ponies", and in the spirit of the set's oddity, she called to him, "act it out!" and showing off some expert improv chops, he did just that, pantomiming the entire song, with Barrett just able to maintain her vocal momentum without breaking out into laughter. A rather unusual time, all things considered. Goofy as all hell, but fun. I've seen Barrett play in bars before, and sometimes it can be pretty dicey — I've seen her try to play to far worse than this lot. And it even seemed to have an effect back on them — "That was so good!" one of the guys said to his friends after. So I nodded to myself, thinking that maybe these kids are all right.

Listen to a track — played on kalimba! — from this set here.

Or maybe not. It wasn't long into The Bicycles' set that a member of their group had to be pulled back from getting into a scrap with one of their neighbours, which was defused before it could boil over, but certainly left some bad blood between different groups of people at the front of the stage.⁵ What precisely was going down I do not know, but it was an odd incident for a band that is perhaps as incendiary as a nice cup of chamomile tea.

It did, however, give the band a chance to make a lot of jokes about how fighting doesn't lead to anything good, and will just cause your band to break up. For this was, indeed, a reunion show, the band having played their last gig nearly a year ago at least year's CMW. Not back in the murky depths of time, I suppose, but I missed the band's heady mix of pop hooks crammed into lightning-quick songs. In more than just a reunion, Randy Lee — who had parted ways with the band as a full-time member several years ago — was back, playing bass for the bulk of the set.⁶ Otherwise, Matt Beckett has added a moustache, but not too much has changed in the past year.

The band was fairly well-rehearsed, perhaps playing a bit more deliberately than in their prime. Some songs like "Gotta Get Out" were still a giddy rush, and there were a couple missed notes here and there, but on the whole, a very strong set. The first part leaned more strongly from their debut (2006's The Good The Band and The Cuddly), but eased more into its follow-up ('08's Oh No, It's Love) as things moved along. Fourteen songs in a forty minute set covered most of their catalogue's highlights bouncing along in a giddy haze. Whether this is a one-time reunion or not, the band will be missed, but as the song suggests, I know we have to be apart.

Listen to a track from this set here.

And then a bit of a turn-over. As a whole bunch of people were quickly jockeying for positions right up close to see From Fiction, I was among the numbers making their way against the flow. Partially just out of comity, I suppose — I'd gotten to be right up front for the bands I'd most wanted to see, so now best to leave room for someone who was there for From Fiction. Because frankly, I was not. Not my thing, simply put. The only time I had ever seen them play live was at a show where they were quite incongruously slotted as the openers for Wilco at Kool Haus back in aught-and-three, and it just didn't work for me, though even after that I gave their album a spin just to be sure and it wasn't anything I wanted to hear twice. Their not-quite-shouty, math-y stop-start-spasm version of guitar rock has never done anything for me, so this was a one reunion — the band broke up '06 — that I had no emotional investment in.

Taking the stage to Peaches & Herb's "Reunited", the four members of gathered together for a bro-hug before strapping on their instruments and tearing in. Notwithstanding any of my opinions of their music, I could readily see that they were tearing in with gusto and playing the hell out of their songs. The even came with a new material in hand, offering a short-ish, mostly instrumental number.

To my surprise, I enjoyed it more than I thought I might. Some of it was even... okay. Some of their more ponderous stretches didn't do much for me, but I guess I had some appreciation for what they were doing. I liked some of the intricate guitar interplay and the lift from Rob Gordon's drums.⁷ It was a big hit with the crowd, natch, so obviously in some quarters they'd been missed pretty intently. I left satisfied with my night, and hoped, vaguely, that the Kalimba Kids had a good time, too, and maybe took home something new from this show.

---

¹ I also recognized one of the sax player from Brides, but they're not big on giving names away, either.

² My understanding is that this was McLean's first Magic Cheezies show on bass, having previously been behind the kit. So that change, and a new drummer in tow, might well explain some of the band's not-quite-smoothness.

³ And it took the most stringent efforts of my inner editor to delete the word "suburban" from that sentence. Not only do I not know where these kids came down from, but I really don't want to be one of those types who effortlessly derides any sort of gaucheness as suburban, as if anyone living on the GO line instead of the TTC, say, is some sort of barbarian at the gate of real culture. Like it's really so simple as that, as much as I'm susceptible to falling into those tropes. Let those of us whose cultural sensibility was born, fully formed, from the forehead of some boheminan, downtown god of cool cast the first stone here.

⁴ Though she did ask, after, looking sidelong at her bandmates, "is it frosh week?"

⁵ It's not impossible that the frequent trips to the bar were shifting these kids from sloppy-genial to something further along the boozy spectrum.

⁶ And, in fact, Lee was the only one who showed up "in uniform", with a small cut-out felt letter B pinned to his shirt. The rest of the band — previously noted for their team-like home-made B-shirts — were all without.

⁷ Gordon was also on the WL500 stage back on Wednesday night in his new gig with Pony Da Look.

Gig: The Dutchess and the Duke

The Dutchess and the Duke (Medication / RatTail)

Sneaky Dee's. Tuesday, January 12, 2009.

Some nights it's tough. After thinking it over a bit, decided to forgo seeing local heroes Final Fantasy/Diamond Rings at the Mod Club for some out-of-town visitors, figuring I'd have more chances to see the former again.¹ And also, last time they were in town, I walked into The Dutchess and the Duke's show not knowing who they were and left a convert, after a beautifully ragged set that was one of my favourite shows of the year. It's always a mug's game to hope that lightning will strike twice in unexpectedly transformative performances, but I reckoned at least to give the band a chance at it.

Early starters and local openers on this night were RatTail. Leading off with a new song that sounded not unlike Sonic Youth covering a track from the Shanghai Lounge Divas compilation, the band's unique mix of elements was immediately in effect. Guitarist Jasmyn Burke's vox, with a flattened monotone affect that veers off into yelps, are the most immediately arresting thing. They fit well against the lean post-punk groove of the music, with Ryan Mounsey's bass often seizing the melodic lead space against the slashing guitar lines. There were some technical difficulties as drummer Jesse Matthews kept dislodging his kick drum and had to adjust between songs until offered a cement block from the sound tech. Meanwhile, Mounsey passed the time by making a series of increasingly hyperbolic claims ("I'd just like to thank Molson Canadian... they recently voted us the greatest Canadian band of all time...") that nicely filled in the gaps. The band weren't taking themselves too seriously on stage, but that shouldn't be confused with excess casualness in their delivery — they were tight and talented players. Decent entertainers, too, including during the rather catchy "Polka Dots", when Burke put down the guitar to roam freely around the stage and the front of the dance floor, Minnie Mouse mask perched atop her head. I could well imagine that her vocals might be a deal-breaker for some, but on the whole, I was into it for the duration of the band's six song set.

Listen to a track from this set here.

After getting a level check on the guitars, soundtech Chantal asked, "any pedals?" "No pedals", was the response. And, leaning forward, I noted indeed that Medication were a band with about as basic a setup as you could imagine — drums plus two guitars, both plugged directly into their amps. And that serves as a pretty good base point for their sound — no frills rock'n'roll, in a slightly garage-punk vein. The guitar work was mostly uncomplicated stuff, chugging away with occasional bursts of riffing.

Although the band had a pretty straightforward sound, they do seem to like the idea of preserving a bit of rock'n'roll mystery about themselves, picking a moniker that seems to be shared with two or three other bands, for one thing.² The members were certainly no showmen, playing without any gestural swagger and saying as little as possible. Letting their music do the talking for them did take them a fairly long way, as their material was definitely good stuff. Showing that their place on this bill arose from some sort of musical kinship, Jesse Loritz of the night's headliners was at the front of the crowd for most of the set enjoying himself.

After a steady burst of five songs, a broken string led to a momentum-killing guitar switch, with the show stopping dead for two minutes, with no sort of banter or acknowledgement from the stage. That sort of took me out of it a bit — I mean, an understated stage presence is one thing, but this was verging on cold-fish asceticism. Still — I guess I shouldn't complain about a complete absence of attitude from a band. Taking them just for their music, then, a pleasing set.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Playing as an acoustic duo, The Dutchess and the Duke had a slow start to the show. What might have seemed to be a very simple setup — two mics, two acoustic guitars — was causing all kinds of trouble. Something in Kimberly Morrison's signal chain was causing an audible buzz, and switching cables and the DI box didn't help. It actually sounded like a connection in the pickup was coming loose, and in the end, after about ten minutes of soundchecking and attempted fixes the show just went ahead, buzz and all. Starting with the wonderfully melancholy "Scorpio", from the recent Sunset/Sunrise, the pair were putting their best foot forward, working without a setlist and running off a series of top-notch songs from both of their albums.

The "campfire punk" sound was stripped down compared to the full band I had seen them play with in the summer. Just listening to the songs, both live and on their recordings, I've found it interesting thinking on the positioning the band has chosen. With these exact same players and the exact same songs, they could very well be playing the folk circuit, bringing their music to a different kind of audience. Obviously, though, through their choice of labels and touring partners and where they play they feel more at home in the indie rock realm. It does make one wonder how that changes their audience and how their music is received.

And in this case, I certainly was less than thrilled with the crowd that had come out to see 'em. Worse than the people to my left having a prolonged conversation throughout the set, a trio of Inconsiderate Types ended up in front of me — one a tall, toque-wearing guy who apparently hadn't showered for a few days settling right in front of me, his friend a Dancing Woman who seemed content to bounce around in all directions with no real consideration of other people's space. During "Reservoir Park"³ things almost boiled over, Dancing Woman bumping into a woman in front of her one time too often, causing her to turn around and shriek an oath at Dancing Woman — for a moment I thought there was going to be a fight.

The band, meanwhile, kept moving forward. "I have a favour t'ask," Loritz drawled between songs. "Would somebody buy me a whiskey on the rocks, please? With a little splash of soda. If you get a chance." And by the end of the next song, said drink did indeed materialize. Their performance was fine, with the delicate guitar parts and vocal harmonies meshing nicely, but there just wasn't that ineffable magic about it. Plus, when you add the buzzing guitar still in the speaker and the less-than-ideal crowd, it was a bit of a recipe for taking me out of the moment. When the set got to the climactic "I Am Just a Ghost", the lift that I'd seen last time just wasn't there. "Come on the stage if you know this one," Loritz invited — and no one was willing to take him up on that. The song did get some of that energy (and no small amount of sing-along help from the crowd) in the end, but it was just reasonable immanence and not ramshackle transcendence. But so it goes.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Maybe because I was keenly aware of the show foregone for this one, but I walked away less than fully satisfied, although that faded a bit after the fact. On reflection, it was a reasonable show. Though they weren't compelling as showmen, Medication's music stuck with me afterwards, and Loritz' rakish fur hat and mellowly cool demeanour made me smile. And those songs by The Dutchess and the Duke are winners no matter what context they're in, and that's what's gonna stick with me most.

---

¹ And indeed, as it turns out, the next Final Fantasy show has already been announced, albeit in the far-less-cozy confines of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre.

² Thankfully, they're most decidedly not the Medication that includes ex-members of Ugly Kid Joe. Of all the Medications, our lads' myspace can be found here. They also are cagey about names and so on, so I can't be much more specific in what I say about 'em.

³ "The supersonic jet plane taking people everywhere / Well, I wish that I could go there, I wish I could be somewhere / But I know I'm still right here / And I know here is still nowhere." — like the bulk of their songs we could hang the melancholy tag on this one, too.

Gig: Rock Lottery

The Third Annual Toronto Rock Lottery

Sneaky Dee's. Saturday, November 28, 2009.

A local tradition now in its third year, the Toronto Rock Lottery does about exactly what its name implies. In the morning, twenty five local musicians gather and put their names in a hat, drawing out five brand-new bands with five members each. These bands have all day to come up with a twenty minute set of new material — and maybe one cover. Depending on the range of participants assembled, the resulting insta-bands could be almost anything — or several things all at once. Organized by the community-mined Jane Duncan, the event is a fund-raiser for the Regent Park School of Music, providing music lessons for kids who can't afford them — and hopefully training a future crop of lottery participants.

Now, fortunately, the definitive article on this event has already been written by Melody Lau of The Singing Lamb, so all I need is to throw up some audio samples and a few annotations. Such as to note that the night had a surprise celebrity compère, Edmonton's poet laureate Cadence Weapon, who came off like Krusty at a random beauty pageant, grabbing the drink tickets first and then asking, en route to the stage, what he was there for. He did a nice job, filled with goofy fabricated factoids as he introduced each band.

It's pretty amazing to think that this event has featured a different cast of players every year, attesting to the depth of the talent pool that there is to draw from. And on this night, there were even a handful of competing gigs, drawing from the same set of musicians that might have been taking part. That might also have accounted for a slightly smaller crowd this time out, with plenty of open space at the back of the room while the bands were on stage.

Just a quick note: with twenty-five musicians pitching in, there's no way I could keep up and give nearly as much individual credit where due for individual flourishes, so my apologies for not being more specific more often on the who-did-what score. As for trying to figure out who everybody involved was, I did some quick googling around, and some helpful stilleposters pitched in to the lists below. But feel free to comment on any mistakes or omissions. Also, I was standing just close enough to the stage that I could usually fit about four people on stage into my pictures so sorry to those that got cut off.

First up were Seductron¹, who started off fusion-prog-disco, made a side-trip into cod-reggae, and ended with a the funk-metal breakdown of "Relax, It's Just Sex". Setting a high standard of musicianship for the following bands, the five were impressively tight. I'd commented before that the litmus test of a Rock Lottery band is this: are they as good as a random opening act that you wander in on at any other gig that you go to? These guys definitely had the chops, and carried themselves like they'd been tasked with serious work — but like they could pull this off any night. After their first song, someone beside me turned to their neighbour and asked, "is your band this good?" which is a pretty good indication. A solid start to the night.

Listen to a track from this set here.

The plaidest of them all, The Beta Males² came out of the gate playing some well-formed songs, even having some impressively credible lyrics — always the hardest thing to throw down at short notice. A particularly multi-polar beast, they actually had the vibe down of a band that hadn't quite decided on one sound yet, and sounded a bit like a different band on every song, from jangly to alt-countryish, to a shouty, spazzy new-wave one (that included a banjo breakdown in the middle) to a moody one. Their five-song set included some pretty fleshed-out songs, a couple of which would surely be a credit to the setlists of these guys' regular bands.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Presenting like an almost-too-precious art rock band, Zecond Two Nuns³ ended up being enormous fun. The evening's champion banterers, they focused their work on three songs, but still pretty much filled out their set, starting off with a Gameboy-powered instrumental featuring sax and clarinet, which turned out to be better conceptualized and executed than a few actual bands I've seen this year doing the same sort of thing. The introspective "Life Fucking Sucks" was sardonically introduced with an "all right, this song is for the kids of Regent Park". Turning to the world around them for lyrical inspiration, they ended their set with a song about those low, low introductory finance rates on furniture that turn out not to be such a deal in the long run on the epic "You Really Give Me Those Low Prices (Mama Help Me)". Zany but effective stuff.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Heroine Spoon & The Hot Knives⁴ had the strongest female representation on the night, as well as the strongest flute presence. Containing the contrasting vocal styles of Daniel Lee's smooth croon and Dee Prescott's throaty howl on the first couple songs, the band then upped the ante, reaching out a real-life incident for inspiration with a poignant song about stepping in poo. That was followed by one that would have been a credible little roots rocker, were it not for the barbed title "It Ain't So Hard Being Blue Rodeo". The set ended with the group gathered at the front of the stage for a rousing a capella cover of James' "Laid", to screaming acclaim.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Last up were Girly Drink Drunk⁵, whose name, I profoundly hope, was inspired by this. Burdened with the longest gap between coming up with their songs and performing them, they still managed a well-constructed layered sound, leading off with the proggiest song I've ever seen Mantler sing. Playing last suited their late-night sound — you could easily imagine hitting a bar just before last call and hearing these guys playing to a room full of melancholic drunks on their "lounge sexytime number". And then a lurch through a slightly haphazard powerpop rock anthem and it was all done.

Listen to a track from this set here.

All told, a very well-executed event. On stage, the changeovers were relatively quick, and I was pleased that it all wrapped up at one a.m. on the nose. Kudos, too, for there being very good sound throughout — no easy task with a series of un-soundchecked bands taking the stage. Hopefully the tradition will only gather strength and keep rolling next year — and maybe even get more audacious in mixing in a few more musicians from outside the indie-rock bubble.

---

¹ Seductron:

Ashley Beattie (Provincial Parks, Sunday Night Live house band at Comedy Bar)

Evan Davies (Now Magazine, ex-Republic of Safety, ex-Death And The Deadly Dying Dead)

Paul Weadick (Danger Bay, ex-Entire Cities, ex-Forest City Lovers)

John Zaniol (session guitarist, ex-Parade?)

Lane Halley (Fullspeed Velocipede)

² The Beta Males:

Kurtis Marcoux (???)

Adam White (The Reason)

Kevin Sasaki (ex-Gravity Wave)

Eric Woolston (Friendlyness and the Human Rights, All Day Breakfast, Maylee Todd and Pegwee Power, Hooded Fang)

JM McNab (Key Witness, solo artist)

³ Zecond Two Nuns:

April Aliermo (Hooded Fang)

David Dineen-Porter (PDF Format)

Joseph Shabason (Everything All The Time)

David Stein (Key Witness, Boys Who Say No)

Ben Standage (Birds of Wales)

⁴ Heroine Spoon & The Hot Knives:

Dee Prescott (I Hate Sally)

Lauren Schreiber (No Shame concert series, ex-Gravity Wave)

Liz Schieck (???)

Shawn Jurek (The Primordials, solo artist, freelance Mastering Engineer)

Daniel Lee (Hooded Fang)

⁵ Girly Drink Drunk:

Stefan Banjevic (The Wilderness of Manitoba, Key Witness)

Chris Cummings (Mantler, Hank)

Steve Kwok (Radius and Helena)

Brendan Howlett (Danger Bay, ex-Henri Faberge & the Adorables, ex-Entire Cities, ex-Gravity Wave, ex-Bloodhöser)

Brojck Edwards (It It, Almonds, Cohen, Colourbook)