Showing posts with label young mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label young mother. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: unknown*

Recorded at the MOCCA Courtyard (NXNE 2014: "Of Sound Mind"), June 22, 2014.

Young Mother - unknown

Given the amount of rancour that had surfaced between the festival and elements of the local DIY scene, it was somewhat amusing to see some of the latter gathered together at this "indie label fair" on the festival's final day. Organized by Sonic Boom and People Put Out Productions, this felt like it had its fingers a bit more firmly on the street-level pulse than a lot of NXNE doings. It was nice to see records and tapes getting purchased and there were some cool bands playing outside in the courtyard, which helped send the festival off on a happier note than it began on.

Since sax player Jason Wasiak moved away, Young Mother has been in various states of hiatus. But he was back in town as the band reunited for a couple appearances at NXNE. Keeping the brand alive, singer/guitarist Jesse Laderoute has shared some of the band's nascent recordings in the interim, but this "new" song shows that the well may not be totally dry yet.

* Does anyone know the title to this one? Please leave a comment!

Friday, November 1, 2013

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: This Is Hardcore [Pulp cover]

Recorded at The Silver Dollar Room ("Death to T.O. 3"), October 31, 2013.

Young Mother - This Is Hardcore

Full review to follow. Now in its third year (perhaps long enough to call it a Hallowe'en tradition!) Death to T.O. filled the Silver Dollar and Comfort Zone with a non-stop night of music — no less than thirteen bands doing mini cover sets in full costume. Jesse James Laderoute looked to be embodying Jarvis Cocker with full method immersion, while the band was joined by Carlyn Bezic (of Laderoute's other band Blonde Elvis) on guitar.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Recording: Jesse Laderoute

Artist: Jesse Laderoute

Song: Cassette Store Day [excerpt]*

Recorded at Sonic Boom ("Cassette Store Day"), September 7, 2013.

Jesse Laderoute - Cassette Store Day [excerpt]

Full review to follow. Cheers to Sonic Boom, who are, once again, supporting community engagement and local music by allowing local labels to set up in their store and sell their wares directly to the curious at Cassette Store Day's tape fair. They also had live performances from some adventurous musicians — exactly the sort of left-of-the-dial stuff that thrives in cassette culture.

While his work in Blonde Elvis showcases him as a crafty tunesmith and his other band Young Mother might be described as "pop avant", Laderoute went full-on experimental here, creating drone-y layers of manipulated vocal sounds and keyboards as a bed for Jason Wasiak's horn work. This nascent sonic exploration will hopefully emerge as its own distinct project in Laderoute's stable a little further down the road.

* As far as I know, this improvised piece doesn't have a formal title.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: A Lighter Affair

Recorded at 159 Manning ("Don't Trust Anyone Under 30 – Manning BBQ 2013"), June 14, 2013.

Young Mother - A Lighter Affair

Full review to follow. As always, a wonderful day at Tim McCready's annual non-NXNE all-day barbeque/hangout/music extravaganza. Bands played in the basement, living room and backyard, and there was plenty going on otherwise. You can check out my photo album from the day on the MFS Facebook page.

If the band's talk of taking some time away from doing shows to focus on writing new material is true, this was an excellent last stand: up close and sounding great in a living room, fog machine blasting away as much as the band.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: High Fashion

Recorded at Hard Luck ("Telephone Explosion's Five Year Anniversary Party"), December 7, 2012.

Young Mother - High Fashion

Full review to follow. After leading off by paying tribute with a run through "I Love My Label", the band played some of the tracks from Future Classics, issued by Telephone Explosion earlier this year.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Currente calamo: The ALL CAPS! Island Festival 2012

The ALL CAPS! Island Festival 2012 — Artscape Gibraltar Point

While it's all fresh in my mind, a few notes from this year's ALL CAPS! Festival. Longer, more comprehensive reviews will follow down the road a piece.

The Wavelength collective might specialize in presenting boundary-pushing music, but as an organization they also operate with pragmatic incrementalism, letting things grow organically over each of the past three years. Although this year extended the pattern, the festival is now at the point where it's a pretty substantial undertaking. Along with incorporating the art-vibe and campout experiences that worked well before, this year saw the festival make the leap to a larger vision, incorporating outdoor stages and more high-profile touring acts. Aiming higher brings more risks, as well — especially in putting together anything outside, where bad luck with weather can cut into the walk-up draw.

Saturday August 13, 2012

Day 1 — feat. Triple Gangers / Esther Grey / Wet Hair / Tyvek / Choir! Choir! Choir! / Maylee Todd / Yamantaka//Sonic Titan

That was keenly felt on Saturday, where the remains of a storm system left high winds, a day-long grey sky and a soggy feel, causing the music to be moved inside. The sublime vibe of Artscape Gibraltar Point — housed in the re-purposed old Island elementary school — has always felt like a "retreat" in the best way, but as the day started I was wondering if the cozy confines of the Fireplace Room would be up to the task of housing the audience for bands that could pack a small club.

That wasn't too big a deal at the outset — as always, there was a fairly thin crowd at hand as the first day's music began. It was by no means quiet around the schoolhouse, with plenty of folks setting up their tents or otherwise exploring the space, and as long-time Wavelength host Doc Pickles took the stage (busily mentoring next-gen compères MC Metalman and MC Lightning Bolt) there was a respectable crowd, some forty-ish people strong, to check out Triple Gangers.

The trio somewhat undermines any associations with hustlin' street hardness that the name might imply as they took the stage in tiaras — and banished it entirely by the time they got to the songs about bunnies and flowers. Ghislain Aucoin provided beats and keybs alongside his vocals, but it was the voices of Aurora Cowie and Ida Maidstone that really lifted the band. Gifted singers both, they were also openly having a infectiously fun time on stage, trading verses and executing a few dance moves. The lighthearted and upbeat subject-matter might trick some into thinking this is something like a novelty act, but there's real talent on display here.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Guitarist Steph Yates and drummer Tyson Brinacombe took to the stage like they meant business, in straight-cut shirts and ties, but the music they were generating as Esther Grey wasn't so easy to pin down. Yates propelled the pair, rocking a look in the neighbourhood of Katie Sketch impersonating Chris Isaak. Although the setup might have implied staid singer-songwriter strumming, the outcome was instead engagingly punchy, with some of the short songs suggesting they emerged more from the process of rocking out than letting emotive words flow forth. All of which left a highly-positive impression — for me, this was the new discovery of the weekend. And it just might have been because I was thinking back to all the other artists that I'd seen playing in the fireplace room, but the memory of Carmen Elle — now a civic Rock Hero — playing the first ALL CAPS crossed my mind afterward. I'm hoping to keep an eye out to see if Yates propels herself like that — she's already found a drummer to go along for the ride.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Although the sun was struggling to fight through the clouds a bit outside, things took a heavier turn musically with a pair of American bands steering their tour through the Island. The sources on Iowa's Wet Hair all mention Shawn Reed's noise roots with Raccoo-oo-oon, but as this project has expanded from a drone-y, experimental duo, the now-trio has veered toward something that brushed against pop aesthetics. In practice, especially with Reed's synth work, that gave them the vibe of a slightly-chipper Joy Division — but still something more bludgeon-y than the grim early New order vibe that that would imply. Some of the material mushed together a bit, and it was the material crafted with that vaguely-pop sheen that worked the best on me.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Giving way to tour-mates Tyvek, things got even more bludgeon-y. Applying heavy rhythms to motorcity punkrock, the quartet alternated between frustrated belligerence and weary live-it-up positivity. Top-notch stuff.

Listen to a song from this set here.

It wasn't long after that set ended that the room started filling up with a steady queue snaking into the room. The members of Choir! Choir! Choir! — and once again they were too many for me to easily count or fit into a picture — basically took over half the room, a wall of singers keeping together thanks to Nobu Aah's conducting and Daveed Goldman's timekeeping acoustic guitar. Even from "Mad World" at the outset, Aah turned one-hundred-eighty degrees and conducted the crowd as if they were one more section, indicating that this was as much a singalong as a performance. For TLC's "Waterfalls", the group was joined by Maylee "Left Eye" Todd — who managed to delight all the more for not quite nailing the rappity-rap-rap delivery. It fit right in with the warm hug of the hey-why-not-join-us communal spirit that C!C!C! brings.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Maylee Todd would be much more steady on her feet for her own excellent-sounding set afterward. It was a good thing that it did sound that fantastic, as by this stage of the day the room was really packed and it was hard for those not right up front to see much at all. And though I theoretically know that the performance included dancers, it was only toward the end, when Todd came out as far into the crowd as her mic cord would allow, when I saw anything of the performance at all. Not too big a worry, though as her always-sharp band delivered on a set that was again packed with new material.

There were also the same covers that I'd heard at the recent Harbourfront performance, and while the Sesame Street Pinball Number Count remained pretty awesome, this time it was the version of Hall & Oates' "I Can't Go for That (No Can Do)" that took the prize, as Todd called Choir! Choir! Choir! up to the front to join her. With bodies surging up to the front, from where I was standing I couldn't tell where the band ended and the audience began. Funky closer "Do You Know What It Is?" definitely left the crowd wanting more. There's no word yet on when we'll be seeing a release of Todd's new material, but it has to be high on this list of most-anticipated local albums.

Listen to a song from this set here.

After that, the crowd dissipated a fair amount. For some mainlanders, it was the ferry's call home; for the campers, there was the call of the bonfire that was raging outside. Even with fewer bodies in the room, the lack of a stage was keenly felt for the recently Polaris shortlisted Yamantaka//Sonic Titan, as this is a band that puts no small effort into their visual presentation.

Although, to my surprise, they actually were presenting as more of a band and less of a spectacle than when I saw 'em in January. This time 'round, there was no ceremonial entry procession and no backdrops. That meant that the band had to rely on their music alone to evoke a sense of atmosphere, and they pulled it off with no problem. Outside of a couple tambourine-shaking laps through the crowd, this was a more straight-up performance, but musically it was very solid.

And even with strict curfew (to get the crowd to the ferry on time) looming, there was no sense that the band was rushing through it, slowly building up through their introduction to the expansive "Reverse Crystal//Murder of a Spider". The hard façade of incommunicability that they held the stage with before was abandoned for some actual banter (although not from singer Ruby Kato Attwood, who remained as composed throughout as ever). Maybe especially because, once again, I couldn't see much anyway, the intimacy of the room more than made up for the loss of theatrical spectacles, and it was very encouraging to see that YT//ST can pull of it all off without needing the extra enhancements.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Sunday August 14, 2012

Day 2 — feat. Ivy Mairi / Young Mother / Canadian Winter / Absolutely Free / OG Melody / Lioness / A Place To Bury Strangers

By the time I was making my way over to the island on Sunday, the skies were clearing up and it felt quite fine as I entered past the ranks of now-grizzled campers. I was delighted that we'd be seeing some of the bands on the outdoor stage, as was the ebullient Ivy Mairi, who projected no small amount of joy despite the feelings of dislocation brought on by performing a concert on what was once her elementary school soccer field.

I'd heard her pure voice before in Bruce Peninsula and her familial Kith & Kin trio, but'd never had a chance to hear her singing her own songs. The first, accompanied only be her own guitar, was enjoyable enough, but once joined by Lucas Gadke and Matt Bailey, fleshing out the sound with mandolin, guitar and double bass it was quite fabulous. The tunes were largely from her new No Talker album, starting with the gorgeous "Something Of Love".

The sky was still changeable overhead, patches of sunshine chased by dark cloudbanks (or vice versa), which also works as a description of the music: meditations for the partially-cloudy soul. Urbane and earthy, this was a perfect start to the day.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Although the sky was clearing up again, the dark clouds moved inside for Young Mother's hypnotic badvibe postpunk throwdown. Fresh off the release of Future Classics, their humbly-titled debut full-length, it had been a while since I'd had a chance to check in on the band, who I'd liked right from the first time I saw 'em (which was, in a serendipitous turn, also at a Wavelength festival).

But now they're employing a disciplined musical economy to produce a more focused attack, packing as much meaning and menace in a fraction of the time these songs had previously sprawled out to. Singer/guitarist Jesse James Laderoute is now backed by a solid trio (bass/drums/sax) to produce a taut groove, torquing the balance between the instruments to get some intriguing effects — one song featured an incongruously mellow saxophone groove juxtaposed against staccato guitar plucks from the strings above the guitar's bridge. An excellent set — and now that the band have become who they are, so to speak, it'll be interesting to see in what direction they push from here.

Listen to a song from this set here.

The tensions that Young Mother's music induced were minor compared to the tremors seen as word went around that the caterers were already, at this relatively early hour, out of sandwiches. In another deft improvisational twist, the organizers managed to get a backup food provider on site without too much of a delay, likely forestalling food-related rebelliousness.

Meanwhile, as that drama played out, the action returned outside for Hamilton hip-hop crew Canadian Winter. I didn't know what to expect from 'em, but was intrigued to see the DJ was flanked by a guitar player and percussionist to add instrumental textures to Kobi's raps, delivered with a straight-outta-London accent.

The music was driving and included some interesting flavours — Doc Pickles could be seen plotzing when one song led off with a Peter Gabriel-era Genesis sample. That served as a solid backdrop for Kobi's storytelling, ranging from tour stories to the emotions evoked on experiencing T.O. for the first time. Another noteworthy introduction and a savvy programming pick from the Wavelength crew. And speaking of savvy, the band's moniker is extra-clever for providing a hook that'll probably appear in nearly in nearly everything that'll ever be mentioned about 'em: something along the lines of, "keep your eyes open, 'cause you know that Canadian Winter will be back sooner than you think".

Listen to a song from this set here.

A quick flip in the scheduling put things back inside for local krautrockstronauts Absolutely Free — partially by design, I'm sure, as their mad scientist lab of a stage setup probably required the resources of the big soundboard inside. But it had the interesting effect of keeping the sunnier bands grouped together in the sunshine while isolating the darker, more simmering stuff in the schoolhouse.

Absolutely Free's emotional tenor isn't as pessimistic as the other "inside" bands on the day, but they did share a certain penchant for extended repetitive grooves based on "chug" more than "vibe" — if not the gentle chainsaw violation implied by an offhand Heathers reference, think of it as an encounter with a mildly aggressive sawtooth waveform.

In a weird bit of symmetry, just as the band was completing their set-up, most of the powder on stage flicked off — just as had happened to these guys on the same stage a year ago as members of DD/MM/YYYY. Once that was sorted out, the songs involved the meticulous instrument-switching soundscapes that they've been experimenting with, including one particularly simmering instrumental that I think was new to the setlist.

Against the backdrop of General Chaos' especially effective liquid canvasses that looked as if they were videoconferencing in from the surface of a distant star, the bandmembers' shadowselves loomed over everyone as the band closed with patient build of "Clothed Woman Sitting".

Listen to a song from this set here.

As the actual sun started dipping down in the sky, the "Sunset Stage" was closed out with some 90's-styled R&B jams from OG Melody. Working in an unusual configuration, vocalist Isla Craig was without Thom Gill on keybs and backing tracks, forcing her to get by with the help of her friends.

Those substitutions cave the set a playfully off-kilter feel, with the music sometimes swooping out in unexpected loops and bursts that kept catching Craig a little off-guard. Her reaction was to laugh and roll with it, so although the execution verged on sloppy in a few places, it was also engaging, as if the audience were just hanging out while the band experimented to see what was going to work.

Inviting Kit Knows up to the stage, he threw down a topical freestyle that won immediate approval from the crowd as he cracked jokes about camping and the ubiquitous red ants. Craig closed out the set "with the people", hopping down off the stage to join the folks swaying up front.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Since emerging in 2007 from the aftermath of No Dynamics and controller.controller, Lioness have proven to be patiently keeping their eyes on the prize. After getting out an EP in fairly short order, the band spent a good long while lying low before re-emerging this year with the full-length The Golden Killer.

Somewhere since I last saw 'em, the core trio have beefed up with an additional keyboard player, freeing up vocalist Vanessa Fischer for more full-on frontwoman duties, including staring down the audience with her eerie cat's-eye contacts. That would just be one of the many details showing an even-sharper visual sensibility for a band that's always paid a lot of attention to their presentation.

That gave the audience something to connect with as the band took a couple songs to really hit their groove — but once they leaned into that death disco beat, it started getting better and better. Even taking the tempo down didn't reduce the intensity, and though I knew I liked the band coming in, this was a fierce reintroduction, and a reminder than this hunter is ready to pounce.

Listen to a song from this set here.

The underlying vibes of menace and tension that were hinted at in Lioness' set were pushed into the red for closers A Place To Bury Strangers. But whereas the former had provided the means of catharsis with the music's danceability, APTBS felt more like a steam engine with no release valve — the pressure building and building.

Or perhaps that imagery came to mind as the band brought what felt like a stadium-sized fog machine to the modest-sized Fireplace Room, which was quickly shrouded in a thick, obscuring haze as the trio got going. Employing massive distortion piled on top of sheer volume, this was more of a physical experience than a musical one — it took me more than half the set for the sheer overload of it to sink in enough to be able to distinguish between songs in any meaningful way. Which isn't to say I wasn't enjoying the caustic force of it all, although it clearly was enough to drive more than a few people out of the room, even before it ended in a prolonged insano strobelight whitenoise obliteration.

Listen to a song from this set here.

That pummelling conclusion to the festival was certainly at odds with the previous year's mile-high doubleplusfeelgood joyburst from Rich Aucoin — perhaps in itself a bit of a self-consciously reflexive bit of contrarianism from the Wavelength crew. It did feel a bit un-Wavelength-y to spend the day building up with the local talent only to close things out with a big-name import with no previous WL connection.

Plus, that closing taste of apocalypse did give a bit of a reminder of how much less of a focus there is on ALL CAPS' original all-ages mandate. While the festival remains open to all, it feels like youth inclusion is just another by-product, rather than something the festival is going out of its way to foster. And on that score, I haven't done the math, but my strong inclination is that as things have become more "professional" the average age of the performers is going up as well — in the past we've seen more of an effort to make sure that "all ages" is something that also happens on stage.

Still, no matter what, this was on balance an excellent weekend — one that I was looking forward to all year and will look forward to again next year. Even as things get bigger, the original animating spirit and Wavelength ethos remain intact. Everything feels human-scaled, and I heard several different people independently comment on the decorum of their fellow attendees — somehow, without enforcement, this has remained an asshole-free zone, which is pretty rare for any sort of concert. In the end, even if this wasn't the best of all possible worlds, Wavelength's practical prescriptions made sure the whole weekend worked, and once again, I left the island feeling enriched.

Addendum: I have more photos from the weekend posted in an album over at the MFS Facebook page.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: No Straight Lines

Recorded at Artscape Gibraltar Point (ALL CAPS! Festival), August 12, 2012.

Young Mother - No Straight Lines

Full review to follow — but you can check out my quick notes for the festival here.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Sunday Playlist #17

Sunday Playlist #17

Zeroes [now known as Suuns] - Mudslinger

Tropics - Pale Trash

Tropics will be playing at the Four Corners II show at the Steelworkers Hall on Friday, July 22, 2011.

Young Mother - The Well-Tempered Male

Rockets Red Glare - A Mutation

Disappears - Marigold


Sunday Playlist is a semi-regular feature that brings back some of this blog's previously-posted original live recordings for an encore. You can always click the tags below to see what I originally wrote about the shows these songs came from.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: Modern Design

Recorded at The Shop under Parts & Labour, December 11, 2010.

Young Mother - Modern Design

My notes for this set can be found here.

Gig: Brides

Brides (METZ / Tropics / Actual Water / Young Mother)

The Shop under Parts & Labour. Saturday, December 11, 2010.

A bit of an event down in Parkdale, with local No Wave noisters Brides playing their final show together. Although their recorded legacy is thin, they were well-beloved as a live unit, and went out in style by bringing no less than four like-minded bands to play with them. I was more of an admirer than a fanatic, but I felt like I should be on hand for this.

Knowing this was going to get jammed, I took care to get to The Shop in good time. My feelings for the venue continue to be a bit up and down — I rather like it when there's about fifty people in the long, low-ceilinged bomb shelter-like space; but when there's a couple hundred people on hand, it feels like a claustrophobic sweatbox and it gets hard to see and hear the bands. Weighing my options for the night, I decided to forgo my usual spot right up front (where at least you can see who's playing) and park myself on the back of the tiered gym benches along the long wall opposite the bar. From there, I was as elevated as could be over the crowd, so I could make out some of what was going on up front — though not a good spot for a bad photographer like me. It takes you out of the action a bit, but at least it generally sounded good and kept me out of harm's way.

I was also eager to be there early to catch Young Mother, who had impressed me when I'd seen 'em before. And though their first song was titled "No Straight Lines", I think that they were a bit less single-mindedly monochromatic in their presentation than when I'd seen them before — the songs were a little shorter and punchier this time 'round, and singer Jesse James Laderoute even cracked a joke, telling the crowd, "I promise I didn't match my guitar to my turtleneck intentionally." Still, underneath all that, the band was still manufacturing a calculated squalor with occasional bursts of rapidly babbled sing-speak lyrics breaking out into howls and no-wave sax bursts1. After four relatively concise songs — a couple in the two-minute range — the band closed with the relatively expansive "The Well-Tempered Male". Impressive once more, it was nice to bookend a show demarking one band's denouement with another really on the cusp.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Meanwhile, the night's between-sets entertainment was handled by Doldrums, with Airick Woodhead doing something in the slippery zone between conventional DJing and his standard one-man-band chop/copy/loop routine. Perhaps best to say that he "Doldrumized" the music he was playing in the same manner he creates his own, tweaking sounds in real time, dropping in treated samples of the music from just-completed sets all while bopping away as if he were there primarily to entertain himself. Later on in the night, Woodhead would test the goodwill of the crowd by playing some of the most diametrically opposed tunes imaginable to the evening's bands, including dropping Cher's "Believe" — and then deconstructing it in real-time, talking over the music to ponder on the lyrics and ask the crowd if, in fact, they really do believe in life after love.

I'd been curious for a while about Actual Water, who'd originally had a rep for noisy squalor. But that's been torqued with the release of The Paisley Orchard, their third album, which promised something else entirely. Apparently a core duo of Tony Price (guit/vox) and G.P. (drums), they were rounded out with bass and second guitarist. Laying down a loud rock racket crossed with twelve-string jangle could go wrong, and when the first song kinda muddled along, I wondered if this was going to be any good. But suddenly it all clicked together gloriously and all at once the band's sound was in focus — flower punk with no lack of heaviosity.

As others would throughout the evening, Price mused on their connection to the night's headliner: "The first show we ever played was with Brides," he noted. And, as if eager to get to their set, the band kept things concise, cramming in seven songs in just over twenty minutes. Intriguing stuff, and a band worth checking out.2

Listen to a track from this set here.

From there, the rest of the bands were more familiar to me, including Tropics. "I want to welcome you to the Battle of the Bands, 2010," joked singer/guitarist Slim Twig after leading off with one that might be called "Holy Water", which worked in the basic Tropics template of hammering drums from Simone TB countering Slim's slashing guitar and slurred screeches. But their sound is evolving a little, I think. The guitar is a bit less thin/harsh than is used to be, mediating the abrasiveness of the sound. That's relative, of course — the music is still way more Alan Vega than Buddy Holly, and still feels like a cauterizing wallop in the band's usual quick bursts.

Joking about the quick twenty minute sets the bands were playing, Slim Twig noted, "most bands have to shorten their sets — we're lengthening ours." In fact, they still came in as the shortest burst of the night, but there was some definite gems in there, including "Pale Trash", now out on a 7".

With METZ taking the stage, the room seemed as full as before, but now there were twice as many people trying to cram themselves right up against the band, making the back half of the room look quite empty by comparison. As loud as it was, people obviously wanted to get face-to-face with the band's riff-y ferocity. As usual, the stage area was dark, the illuminated bass drum the only source of light. Once the band's spazz-grunge attack was underway, I couldn't see much of anything going on past the pulsating crowd, but there must have been some bodies bouncing off the gear, as the microphones kept getting unplugged every once in a while.

Still in the process of recording their debut long-player, for this set unreleased material would outweigh the stuff from their singles — I recognized "Dry Up" and "Negative Space", and there were a couple familiar from past shows. There were also a couple brand new songs, including one with a snappier-than-usual tempo: "this is the only song that we can honestly say is a dance song," commented bassist Chris Slorach. I've now seen the band enough to be past that initial shocked-and-awed stage, but I still found it to be a bracing experience.3

Listen to a track from this set here.

The hour growing late, some of the crowd slipped away after that. It would be about ten to two when the last set began. Overall, from the outset Brides went about their business without sentimentality — this was more like a one last mad rush into battle than a victory lap. And despite the finality of the occasion and the reverence paid to them by all of the earlier bands, they didn't play for very much longer than anyone else, preferring to lay out their final testament in a concentrated blast that was done in under half an hour. That didn't mean they were rushing it — the set began with a few minutes of instrumental build. This might be a sign that the band had grown some since I'd last seen 'em — or perhaps my mind tended to remember the blasts of skronk more. Still, all the main elements I remembered were here, with saxophone blats butting up against the thrum of the music, all a backdrop for Elliott Jones' panicked-sounding vocals.

Even if the band seemed relatively reserved, there was certainly more palpable emotion coming from the crowd, and even when the music was syrupy slow, the audience was still seething and slipping around on the beer that had been sprayed around at the set's beginning. I wasn't close enough to really be able to catch what was going on, but there was some antipathy towards the audience from Jones — whether that was part of the band's antagonistic pose or the crowd was getting a bit too aggressive I cannot say. But when Jones commented, "that's it man, I'm not doing any more... everybody's bleeding too much playin' up here," he wasn't speaking metaphorically. Afterward, I spotted guitarist Michael Pytlik washing a bleeding gash in his hand clean. How that came to pass, I couldn't see from my vantage, but it probably explained the "fuck all y'all" that the band closed with. Maybe not the best way to go out, but rather apt, metaphorically speaking, given the band's abrasive vibe. Thus passeth Brides, though some members can already be seen around town in new bands, perpetuating the rock'n'roll circle of life.4

Listen to a track from this set here.


1 I noted that the band had a new sax player in tow, but I have no information on who he was. Apparently savouring the mystery, there's still not a lot of information online about the band and who's in it, but they do have a generous assortment of music to check out on their soundcloud, which is the most important thing.

2 Tropics and Actual Water (plus out-of-town guests White Suede) will be playing June 17, 2011 at the Feast In The East II show at the Dickens Street Theatre.

3 During NXNE, METZ will be playing a free show at Yonge-Dundas Square (June 16, 2011) along such distinguished company as Fucked Up, Descendents and OFF!

4 Though I haven't caught 'em yet, Elliott Jones' new project Ell V Gore — which also features Tropics' Simone TB on drums — has been hotly tipped.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: Common Trash

Recorded at Against Life II, July 3, 2010.

Young Mother - Common Trash

My notes for this set can be found here. N.B. This recording features a particularly talky crowd around me, and is not in the highest of high fidelity.

Gig: Against Life II

Against Life II: Against Love (feat. Anagram / Young Mother / Toddler Body / Bill Bill)

Bridge under Strachan Av. @ Gardiner Expressway. Saturday, July 3, 2010.

Perhaps the true rebels and rock'n'rollers are more keenly aware of it from moment to moment, but most of the time, we're oblivious to the weave and weft of formal and informal rules that surround and constrain us. Sometimes, we notice when authority steps beyond the normal limits and shows how casually it can impose its force on protesting bodies or on the body politic. If the bulk of life is dealing with all of that subtly deadening crap, then Against Life is the antidote. Sometimes we realize the limits of the usual when the constraints are pulled back and there's a space to act outside of authority or outside of capitalistic exchange.

This series of, well, call 'em "events" more than "concerts" is a successor to the famous series of Extermination Music Nights, which installed music-and-art happenings in unsanctioned, reclaimed spaces. There is, so far as I know, no manifesto or statement of purpose from the organizers, just an invitation to a location that is revealed not long before the show's midnight starting time. The events draw a diverse audience, from lovers of "weird" music, to principled DIY'ers to those who just want a BYOB sort of party.

Now me, I'm no radical in word or deed. I have — perhaps to an unhealthy degree — a quiet sort of belief in rules-based systems and an irrational attachment to propriety, making me, to some extent, an apollonian celebrant at a dionysian gig. But we're none of us any one thing, I guess, and after a corporate gig that was in almost every way the opposite of this, I was certainly looking for something "outside".

And so, headed out towards the Exhibition grounds — one of those Saturday Night Special streetcar rides where there's a guy slumped over, hurling out the narrow window opening — and walking up to find the parking lot identified in the invitation. Down the semi-muddy embankment and found myself under a bridge — an amazingly secluded spot with the ground banking up against one concrete wall, creating a quick sort of amphitheatre effect. Illumination was provided by a series of tiki torches lining the "stage" area, where the microphones and amps were clustered together, the generator off a bit to one side and a cardboard DJ shed on the other. Once the generator was cranked up, there was enough for the amps and PA plus a projector throwing up images on the wall above the embankment, mostly a loop of a guy climbing a ladder.

There was a small fire-based art installation, like a little pagan prayer circle, being set up, but otherwise, when I got there not long past midnight it was pretty quiet, with a sense of finishing touches being applied. There was a steady trickle of people showing up, peering around in the dark for friends and making their way over the rutted, somewhat uneven ground. The unofficial culture smells like lighter fluid, or paraffin or whatever it is keeping the torches burning.

Things got started about quarter to one with the experimental sounds of Bill Bill. The first selection was a sort of instrumental-type track, with a keening two-note synth riff and bird-noise like sounds. As the set continued, there was increasingly a "tribal" sort of feel, with two vocalists adding wordless sounds on top of a variety of distorted keyb noises. Someone beat on a drum. The group's myspace is pretty spare on more details about them, which seems befitting. As an element in this particular environment, the sounds filled the space well enough — I wasn't bored or turned off while they were playing, but qua music, it was kinda too formless for my liking.

Peering around as their set finished, I estimated there were maybe a couple hundred people about — given the nature of the event, people were coming and going throughout, and the crowd actually got denser as the night progressed. As the day's heat dissipated, the night temperature dropped ten or fifteen degrees and suddenly it was feeling chilly. Folks were drinking and hanging out, having a good time. There were some downsides to operating outside the regular strictures — people were smoking freely. And, sadly, in a sign of failed self-governance, littering.

As Toddler Body began playing, at first it seemed like this might be a more-straightforward musical experience — during their first song they sounded a bit like some sort of unholy alliance between Skinny Puppy and Bernie Worrell. The rest of the set was largely more "implied" than that and more decidedly on the "experimental" side of the ledger, although they brought more of a melodic sense to the table, mostly in the form of more regular drum-machine beats and squidgy synths. A musical partnership of Randall Gagne and Greydyn Gatti, the band came quipped with a keyboard and a table full of electronics.

The second piece featured a long, slow quieting fade, until it sounded like a muffled ringtone being played two rooms over. And after that there was more ambiance, with squiggles of sound hugging the fuzzy edges of ghosts of songs. Once again, this worked in context, even if it might not translate to something I'd want to hear in the light of day.

As it got later, the early, here-to-check-it-out crowd was increasingly supplemented by the more heavily drinking party crowd, and the shift to some less environmental music was achieved with Young Mother. "We're going to play some songs and shit", said bandleader Jesse James Laderoute as they started — songs being the exception so far in the night.

The band had totally impressed me the first time I saw 'em, when they stretched out one song over a fifteen minute set. This time, the band led off with a concise ninety-second burst — but it still had all the same elements in place, including the squealing sax and the locked-in rhythm section providing a nodding relationship with the melodic underpinnings of rock music. Their lean, slightly menacing undertow kept things steady while Laderoute sang, both in rapid wordbursts and occasionally in a more relaxed sing-speak. That one song I'd heard before ("I saw it coming a million miles away") was reprised, but here down to about a third of its former length. The last song of the set was the most prolonged, stretching out around nine minutes and was quite good stuff, with a high, spidery guitar line playing off the low-range thrum of everything else, as it built into a chaotic finale. By the end, someone was pouring liquor down the bass player's throat and then using the bottle as a slide on the neck while he continued playing. Some stirring music — Young Mother have some inneresting ideas and stay on my list of bands to see more of.

Listen to a track from this set here.

And then — at about a quarter-to-three — the mighty Anagram to close things out. All things considered, this felt like a perfect environment for their music. The band is in their element when there's no separation between themselves and the audience — despite a misanthropic lyrical outlook and a dark-edged musical attack, they are commendably community-minded when it comes to the sort of shows they play. Leading off with "Evil" — also the first track to their long-awaited new album Majewski1 — perhaps the most noteworthy thing about an Anagram show is that there's no downshifting. "We're going to slow it down for a few minutes" isn't something you're going to hear.

Plus, the jostling-body chaos that comes with the territory always means that each show is going to be unique. At this one, to keep clear of bouncing bodies, I slid around from in front of the band, and ended up almost all the way over beside the bass amp. And when PA was knocked askew it ended up being pointed away from me. The guitar amp was way around on the other side of the band from me, which might be for the best as there was some piercing bursts of feedback coming from that direction.

"How It Seems" was suddenly cut shout by vocalist Matt Mason's shouts — "Kill the lights! Kill the fire! Get rid of the fucking fire now! Right now!" At the moment I thought it was a bit of dramatic posturing, but it turns out that the fire department were dropping by, and the open flame was their main concern. "Is anybody passed out? Does anybody need medical attention?" Apparently satisfied, the fire dept. went on their way, to cheers from the crowd and the band started back up. All of this I learned after that fact — from where I was standing, it was so dark that I couldn't actually see the firemen. And that was before the torches were extinguished. After that, things got murkier.

There was an undertow of frenzy building in the crowd. Not particularly in a dangerously violent sense so much as guttural debauchery. At some point the cardboard DJ booth was pulled down and was being passed around the crowd like a bodysurfer. There was the sense that it could all fall apart at any moment. The band was playing "Leads to Nowhere"2 and it was feeling like it was all coming apart — that things were getting unplugged and increasingly ragged. The band was playing inside an increasingly smaller space as the crowd pushed in towards them.

And then the generator died. Some people further back in the crowd didn't pick up on that, calling out for an encore, as if that was the way the band had planned to end their set. The organizers were running around, trying to get the generator re-started, leading to about five unsettled minutes of standing around, when, anticlimactically, the police showed up to break things up.3

I'm sure there was antsiness on all sides, given the frayed nerves from the very-fresh memories of the G8 clampdown. As people started streaming away I wasn't worried I was going to end up in the hoosegow or anything, but I was feeling a plucky sense of occasion, so I followed some slightly-nervous younger folks leaving by the back door, which turned out to be the embankment leading back up to Strachan. After watching the tableau of folks scurrying out from under the bridge for a bit, I headed off, just a pedestrian making my way home in the late night.

Listen to a track from this set here — and enjoy an audio vérité recording of the night's end here.

There's a lot to praise the organizers for here. My sense is that they are, if not observing the official niceties of how one is supposed to hold an event, all the more principled and careful for it. The not-in-someone's-backyard locations are scouted so as not to interfere with other people's quiet enjoyment of the night. And there is a principled libertarian argument here, of self-determination and self-regulation — we choose to operate outside the Fire Code and the noise bylaw, so therefore we will be responsible for governing ourselves. Of course, when you add large numbers of drunken/stoned people to the mix, there are worries about, like, who needs that nanny state looking out for them, given the worst-case-scenario sort of things that could go wrong. I know it ain't likely, but these things always flash through my brain at events like this.

Still, I'm glad that events like this exist — I think it's more than just, like, a show at a venue where people can drink hooch straight from the bottle. In art, no less so than in our social interactions, we consciously and unconsciously subject ourselves to the limitation of what is "allowed". Exploring the liminal spaces — musical, artistic, social — serves to make us aware of the limited space we usually inhabit. And if the music or forms of interaction that are generated aren't all the best, such is the price of trying. So I'm glad that the people behind this are trying.


1 The album is now available and is getting a launch party in town tonight at Parts & Labour, and in Oshawa on November 6.

2 Although the words were an almost-unintelligible mush heard live, the song has some entirely apropos lyrics abut darkness and lights crashing down.

3 Amusingly, given how much confusion about everything else going on, word of the police's arrival flashed through the crowd pretty quickly and effectively. To mix metaphors, it appears that even a broken telephone can be right once a night.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Recording: Young Mother

Artist: Young Mother

Song: The Well-Tempered Male [excerpt]*

Recorded at Wavelength 500 (night 3), Sneaky Dee's, February 12, 2010.

Young Mother - The Well-Tempered Male

My notes for this set can be read here.

* I had originally guessed that this might be called "A Million Miles Away", but I've now found this track at the band's soundcloud with this title. (Interestingly, the file itself is titled "Million Miles", so both titles might be valid. At this set, the band played a fifteen-minute version of the song, with instrumental build and outro — I've edited it down to the "song" part.

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.