Gig: Bell Orchestre

Bell Orchestre

Luminato Festival. Harbourfront Centre. June 13, 2009.

And all at once, it felt like summer had arrived. Maybe part of it was just making the trek down to Harbourfront, but it just felt seasonally adjusted outside. Harbourfront was pretty packed — Luminato crowds out for Cirque de Soleil and gourmet food booths lining Queen's Quay. Met up with J. & J. and we went for some fancy ice cream before winding our way over to the stage and finding ourselves some spots. Although we were there in good time, the seating area was filling up quickly, with a not-unusual Harbourfront mix of people there to see the band and people hanging out just because there's something free coming up — plus a healthy dose of people who'd came down to see Québecois circus performers and thought this might be part of the Cirque programme.

Things were running a little behind schedule, and by about ten past seven the crowd was clapping and calling for the show to start. J. & I killed time by exchanging Angel Riots jokes, and eventually a pair of Cirque performers led the VIPs onstage. Indicating that this wasn't just your usual night out at Harbourfront, the show was preceded by some speechifying from the heads of Harbourfront and Luminato and the Mayor in person, who went on to mutually admire each other. After putting a pitch in for everyone to call their councillor and get them to vote for the Queen's Quay revitalization, hizzoner introduced the band, somewhat misguidedly — to their later delight — suggesting that everyone get up and dance.

Bell Orchestre took the stage running seven deep and played for about seventy minutes. Their swelling brand of indie rock played with symphonic tools was a good fit for the venue, giving a chance to enjoy moments of both quiet ambiance and rousing crescendos. It might have helped that right as they hit the stage, my drugs kicked in,¹ but I was in a good frame of mind to lean back and soak it in. The band was attentive to their arrangements, but relaxed enough to not make it feel too stiff. They took some pains to try and get the audience involved and clapping — and by the end, when the tempos picked up, even dancing.

Meanwhile, after the first number, a certain segment of the crowd grudgingly accepted that this concert wasn't going to include leotard-clad clowns leaping from trapezes and fled the joint. But the seats were quickly filled up by those more keen on the music, including a family that settled in in front of us. Dad was really into the music, and Mom had the Younger Brother on her lap, leaving Older Brother, about seven or eight, to squirm around and see me as an object of interest.

"Hi!" he shouted. I nodded.

"Hi!" and he shouted something else. I gave a vague 'can't quite hear you shrug', so he shouted it again louder. I turned my head and tapped at my ear.

"Oh," he said brightly, "you're wearing earplugs!" And in one of those brilliant bursts of kid logic, he stuck his fingers in his ears, squinted his eyes and shouted "HELLO!" at me. He was honestly confused as to why I'd want the music to be quieter, not louder, and seemed convinced I couldn't hear anything at all.

Such is part of the experience at Harbourfront, just like the party boats going past, booming their music. One big boat going by actually stopped for a few minutes, the decks filled with people standing and listening to the show. The final number was especially affecting, the strings and horns playing off each other just so, evoking a sort of etherial melancholy, well matched by the kid in front of me, who was now a little tuckered out and feeling a bit cranky and ready to leave. The band put down their instruments and left the stage to a looping ambient swirl, before being called back for one more. A hightly enjoyable show, and hopefully the first of many at Harbourfront this summer.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Postscript: in a tidy bit of synchronicity, we ambled away from Harbourfront after the show, and made our way north looking for some eats. Getting out of the subway at St. George, who should be headed into the station but hizonner himself? Small world.

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¹ On my way down to the Waterfront, I'd stopped in to visit A.'s cat while he's out of town for the weekend. Though I quite like the wee beastie, my allergies came on strong, and by the time I was at Harbourfront I was red-eyed and sneezey, so I popped a pill for it, which always puts a pleasant downer effect on me — "non-drowsy", my ass. Good for langourously focusing on the show at hand, but it put a real crimp in my plans to operate heavy machinery later on in the evening. There'll aways be other tractor pulls, I guess.

Album: Chain and the Gang / Down with Liberty... Up with Chains!

Artist: Chain and the Gang

Album: Down with Liberty... Up with Chains!

The latest vehicle for Ian Svenonius, known for his work in Nation of Ulysses, The Make-Up and Weird War. After being introduced via their live show, the album sounds a little dinky in comparison — clean and spare, almost like a demo. That robs the songs of the sweaty raunch they really need to get over, and without their live energy, they could be mistaken for aimless rehashed genre exercises. I don't think that's the case so much as I think this albums isn't the best of all possible arguments for these songs. The vox and some of the garage-primitive R&B bring to mind David Johansen, but when at his best, Svenonius manages to work in a sneaky critique of nothing less than contemporary American society. Not without its charms, though, as Svenonius has a slightly unwholesome magnetism and an ear for subtle sloganeering.

Track Pick: 5 - "What is a Dollar?"

Gig: Daniel Lanois / The Campbell Brothers Band

The World of Slide Guitar (feat. Sonny Landreth Band with Cindy Cashdollar / The Campbell Brothers Band / Daniel Lanois)

Luminato Festival. Yonge-Dundas Square. June 7, 2009.

On J.'s suggestion, decided to head down to Dundas Square to check out Daniel Lanois. Looking up what else was on offer at the "World of Slide Guitar", thought that The Campbell Brothers might be worth checking out, do went on down a little early. For some reason, things were running an hour behind the posted schedule, so I ended up catching pretty much all of the Sonny Landreth Band with Cindy Cashdollar. Which, observed from the edge of the square, was pleasant in that bar-band rockin' kind of way.

Met up with J. & J. just as The Campbell Brothers Band were taking the stage, and we moved in for a slightly closer look. Billed as exponents of the "sacred steel" style, combining gospel songs within a bluesy musical framework, the band were certainly virtuosos. All of their selections were given extended treatments, with scorching solos aplenty, including guest appearances from the musicians that had already been on the stage. This was all slickly enjoyable, and wildly popular with the crowd. Perhaps it was just that I was feeling mildly under-caffeinated that it didn't make that much of an impact on me — but it may also have been the fact that I was kinda hoping for more sacred and less steel. The final number, with a jump-out-of-your-seat-and-testify vibe, put things closer to the mark I'd been seeking. More "rock" than "Rock of Ages" in the final analysis, but I guess that's okay too.

After that, Daniel Lanois was a shot of something else. Taking to the stage only with the accompaniment of a bassist to begin with, they settled into a lengthy improvised piece that would have sat well alongside, say, something from Kranky Records. After the feel-good populism of the previous acts, this felt really different and exciting. The piece lasted for about twenty-five minutes before Lanois moved over to the pedal steel and did a couple ambient/country pieces evoking with work with Eno on the Apollo: Atmospheres & Soundtracks album. Well-suited for the cement moonscape of Dundas Square, and as he was crouched over his pedal steel, barely visible past the crowd, it felt like the concert had collapsed into something more like an audio installation on a massive scale, and, for a brief moment, everything felt a little bit serenely altered. Very nicely done.

The second half was more conventionally "rock", and while good stuff, didn't have that same pleasantly dislocating quality, aiming more towards ragged glory. Bringing out a drummer to accompany him, Lanois started with a casual, slowly-unfolding take on "The Maker" and moved on through a few more of his own compositions. The Square, which had been pretty full at the end of the Campbell Brothers, had cleared out a fair amount by the end of Lanois' seventy-five minutes, but that probably had as much to do with a dour grey sky and bitingly cold wind as much as his sounds. I thought it was a real treat — that first half moreso, but still left a warm glow against the cold evening as we fled the square before the free country line dance lessons could begin.

Recording: Tri-Continental

Artist: Tri-Continental featuring Bill Bourne

Song: Dance and Celebrate

Recorded at "The Traveling Blues", Luminato Festival, Metro Square, June 6, 2009.

Tri-Continental (featuring Bill Bourne) - Dance and Celebrate

My notes for this gig are here.

Recording: Alpha Yaya Diallo

Artist: Alpha Yaya Diallo

Song: Unknown^*

Recorded at "The Traveling Blues", Luminato Festival, Metro Square, June 6, 2009.

Alpha Yaya Diallo - Unknown

My notes for this gig are here.

^* Anyone know the title to this one? Let me know!

Gig: "The Traveling Blues"

"The Traveling Blues" (feat. Harry Manx/Kevin Breit, Alpha Yaya Diallo Quartet, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Tri-Continental, Fiona Boyes, Mamadou Diabaté, Taj Mahal Trio)

Luminato Festival. Metro Square. Saturday, June 6, 2009.

So — the blues. Most venerated of genres yet also source of lots of dull, derivative crap. It was with less that 100% confidence that I decided to head down to Metro Square¹ to check out this Luminato freebie show. Some of my apprehension also came from the fact that the two artists I wanted to see the most were scheduled for four o'clock and nine o'clock, leaving a bit of gap in between.

The square was busy but not too filled when I arrived, a small crowd on chairs in front of the stage, and people scattered around on the grass, casually taking things in. The event was impressively set up, showing how how big bucks can dwarf the usual logistical problems. The west side of the square was filled with a large double stage, so the one act could be set up and ready to go as the other finished. So it was pretty much non-stop music all day. I found a spot on the grass and settled in for the end of Harry Manx and Kevin Breit's set, catching a couple songs that seemed pleasant, including a nice take on "Summertime".

But it was the next up act that I came for. Canadian-Guinean Alpha Yaya Diallo gained some renown for his participation in African Guitar Summit project, but is talented enough to seek out in his own right. Diallo, a deft, lyrical guitar player, was backed by bass, drums and balafon. Diallo's songs tend to be in a simmering mid-tempo, leaving plenty of room for rhythmic interplay between guit and balafon and time for the hypnotic grooves to unfold themselves. The band played a half-dozen songs in his forty-five minute set — excellent stuff. The least formally "blues" thing I saw all day. Also the best. Lots of local world-music gentry out for this one — I saw John Leeson up front, no doubt getting some photos that will turn out much better than mine.²

Listen to a track from this set here.

Shuffled over to the other stage for a short solo set from Alvin Youngblood Hart, a W.C. Handy Award winner and generally well-regarded within the blues fraternity. Playing on an electric with a slightly distorted tone, his sound had a greasy, back-country feeling that brought to mind some of the Fat Possum artists. Pretty enjoyable stuff.

And then back to the other side. What I had seen originally billed as a set by Madagascar Slim — another African Guitar Summit veteran — turned out to be a three-headed collaboration known as Tri-Continental, teaming Slim up with Bill Bourne and Lester Quitzau. Neither of the last two were known to me, but they quickly demonstrated they were both excellent musicians. Looking over their c.v.'s now, it seems especially strange that Bourne's name had never crossed my path. Gifted with sonorous voice and steely eyes, he had the look of a mythic prairie hero.

The three musicians took turns on vocals and backed each other's songs, complementing each other's approaches. It had a very relaxed and loose feel as the songs stretched out and allowed the interplay of different styles to come to the fore. Most of the music was at a relaxed pace, the guitars trickling over each other like a quietly determined brook. Very nice stuff in a genteel way, and even better when it picked up — the highlight coming with Bourne's "Dance and Celebrate", with an old-timey Cajun dance feel.

Listen to a track from this set here.

The next act up was Alvin Youngblood Hart, back with his band. He launched into a high energy set of what sounded like very-well executed blues-rock. I decided it was time to go for a walk. Stretched my legs out for a spell, and came back to the square as the set was finishing off. Found a nice patch of grass to settle on and flip through my newspaper while Australian Fiona Boyes played a solo acoustic set. She was a very accomplished fingerpicker, but a less distinguished songwriter, and I didn't feel the need to stand up and move closer during her set. It was followed by a short set from kora master Mamadou Diabaté. I had actually seen Diabaté perform at Harbourfront a couple summers ago, so instead of getting in for a look, I craftily swooped in and got a sweet spot near the front of the other stage to be ready for the headliner, twisting the ends of my moustache and cackling to myself.³

Once the rest of the crowd did move over, I was curious to see how things would work themselves out between the (mostly older) crowd sitting down right up front and the (mostly younger) crowd pressing up to get close. In the end, even when the woo-yelling drunks showed up, things were mostly fine — the seated middle stayed seated, with people standing to the sides and in front. And a pretty decent crowd on hand by the time Taj Mahal took the stage. Long an advocate for "world music" even before that was a marketing niche, he started off with a "teachable moment", bringing Mamadou Diabaté over to sit in on the opening selection "Queen Bee". And after that, it was The Blues. Playing on an acoustic throughout, Taj was backed just by bass and drums, but it was a full-on, rockin' set. The 67-year-old was every inch the entertainer, full of praise for Toronto and Canada, recalling, in the late '60's, telling Canadians to cheer at his shows like their hockey team had just scored a goal. He was in good voice, switching from his gruff baritone to respond to himself in his lower, froggy register.

It was all very good fun, and worthy to see a master in action. At that, though, I found that the ninety minutes plus started to feel like a bit too much of a good thing by the end — after a baker's dozen of 12-bars, they start to blur together: the second time Taj sang about how the sun was gonna shine in his back door some day,⁴ I was thinking to myself, "haven't we been here already?" Still, there were no shortage of highlights, including "Fishing Blues" and "Corrina" back-to-back plus "Take a Giant Step". Taj even busted out the banjo in the tailfeather-shakin' encore, sending me from the Square feeling pretty good.

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¹ Motto: "Downtown's least-loved civic square." Which isn't to say that it's that lousy a space, but it just seems to be cloaked from our consciousness, generally. All things considered, it's rather nicer than, say, the ad bath of Yonge Dundas Square.

² If you don't subscribe to Mr. Leeson's very useful e-mail list, focusing on local world music events, you should go to his site and sign yourself up.

³ Ed.'s Note: You should save this image for some occasion when you do something that's actually devious.

⁴ Neither of which were "Trouble in Mind" — I leave it to the blues scholars among you to work out what some of the other possibilities are.

Gig: Amadou & Mariam / Mélissa Laveaux

Amadou & Mariam / Mélissa Laveaux

Phoenix Concert Theatre. Thursday, June 4, 2009.

One of the great things about living in this town is that there's an inexhaustible stream of new, excitingly unheard bands to check out. The flipside of the coin, though, is that we also get the occasional chance to see the world's best when they pass through. After a glut of small-scale indie shows, it feels nice to be switching gears a bit and going to something on a whole other plane. Mali's Amadou et Mariam utterly blew me away when they played Harbourfront in the summer of 2006, and I promised then that I'd not miss them when they returned our way. So this was absolutely a highly-anticipated gig for me, and not even lingering bleh-ness from a cold could dampen my enthusiasm too much.

Although there was quite a mix of people, definitely an older crowd out for this one, skewing into the "we drove down early and had a nice dinner before" middle-aged demographic. Which makes for less pushy types, although also very willing to stand around and gossip loudly about their neighbours while the opening act was on. That turned out to be Mélissa Laveaux, a young singer-songwriter from Ottawa, playing a solo acoustic set that might have been a case of "wrong place, wrong time". Though I moved up a good chunk through the crowd to try and hear her a little more clearly, the chattering audience really overwhelmed her music. Laveaux turned out to be a very nifty guitar player with a fine voice and an engaging manner on the stage, but it was just all swallowed up. Some numbers, including a beautifully-sung Haitian lullaby, still managed to cut through a bit, but as the set went on, it felt like more people were tuning out. She threw in a few covers (White Stripes, Sam Roberts, Elliot Smith) to try and get people to pay attention, but ultimately, it felt like this was just the wrong situation for her to display her talents.

I moved back a piece and found J. & J. by the soundboard, where we settled in and had a reasonable amount of personal space. Fortunately the crowd was more attentive for the main attraction. The six-piece backing band¹ emerged and launched into a groove before Amadou and Mariam were led on to a roaring welcome. They launched into the title track from their recent Welcome to Mali and basically didn't let up for the next ninety minutes. Drawing largely from their two North American breakthrough albums, it was pretty much "dancer ensemble, chanter ensemble, bouger ensemble" non-stop. Amadou was playing what looked like from our vantage point a solid gold guitar — utterly suited to his million-dollar chops. An utterly hypnotic player, Amadou can veer from mesmerizing circular riffs to fiery leads that never come untethered to the song's grooves. He had a handful of extended guitar showcases (including a stunning rip through "Coulibaly") that were, as the last time I saw them, highlights of the set.

Mariam took centre stage for single "Sabali",² a sweet love song that required no translation as the disco ball suddenly came on at the exact right moment and, at the end, Mariam ran her fingers through Amadou's hair — all of which spoke loudly enough that their subsequent run through English-language track "I Follow You" felt almost redundant. But, tout en tout, pretty amazing stuff. The encore included the incredibly pretty "Je pense à toi" and then flipped into a storm of a tune that was either unfamiliar to me, or just so stripped down (to a two-chord vamp of such ripping simplicity it would put The Fall to shame) that it was rendered unrecognizable. One to remember, and a good unofficial start to the summer when we can all get out of the clubs and see a whole world of excellent music — a lot of it for free to boot.

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¹ Kit drum, percussionist, bass, keyb and two dancers/backup singers.

² Powered on the album by Damon Albarn's oscillating synths, I was slightly surprised to see this one live, but the touring keyboard player — identified only as "Igor" — did a good job.

Album: Metric / Fantasies

Artist: Metric

Album: Fantasies

Metric has always been a band where, from the outset, my idea of them never lived up to the reality of their albums. Each of them had good singles and were generally okay, but still...

So it was an utterly delightful surprise put this one in, and then just feel compelled to keep playing it over and over. Head-and-shoulders this is their best album yet, though I'm at a loss to say they're doing anything radically different. I stuck to this disc for days, trying to puzzle out what went so gloriously right, but am ultimately without much in the way of insight, besides hoary old standbys like "consistency". This album starts out with four gems and hardly lets up from there.

Or perhaps it's just the band is working right in their comfort zone, musically taut and lyrically inhabiting a self-aware terrain throughout. "Twilight Galaxy" reads like an Emily Haines poster come to life, a savvy rockstar older sister dispensing advice ("keep doing it wrong") directly to the teenagers, while "Blindness" has a sublime warmth that recalls Hines' excellent solo Knives Don't Have Your Back, but more like an extroverted flipside of the coin to that disc. That outward-lookingness is pushed to its maximal conclusion on closer "Stadium Love". It's a bit sad an album like this could well push Metric into those stadiums, and out of my orbit, but with something this good, they well deserve as much success as they can grasp.

Track Picks : 2 - "Sick Muse", 3 - "Satellite Mind", 9 - "Blindness"

Gig : Doves / Wild Light

Doves / Wild Light

Kool Haus. Monday, June 1, 2009.

A strange sense of... nostalgia brushed by me as J. and I made our way down to the Kool Haus, where I haven't been in over a year-and-a-half.¹ I wasn't feeling wistful out of any love for the boxy environs in their own right, but I guess I have seen some pretty decent shows there. And, it occurred to me, that going out of the way for a show at a bigger venue used to make gig-going into a Big Event, and not just something that I do all the time. Getting in, it looked like pretty much nothing had changed — there was a less surly cadre of security types working the door than I remembered, but inside it was kinda like time had stood still. I was feeling a sense of relaxation arising from the fact that this one was J.'s pick — I have nothing against Doves, but wouldn't've gone out of my way to see 'em on my own initiative — so I felt like I had no expectations, and could just soak it all in. We found ourselves a spot by the mixing desk and settled in as the crowd streamed in and the openers took the stage.

Tour support was New Hampshire's Wild Light, who I don't have a lot of glowing things to say about. Sort of like listening to warm milk², the band seemed to have put as much time into their carefully-styled hair as their popcraft. Their bland tunes suited the stage decor — they were forced to play in front of Doves' giant projection screen, leaving them in limbo in front of a giant white backdrop. Someone had the idea to break it up a bit by throwing up a banner with the band's name, but the graphic design was as uninspired as their music:

None of which livelied up the blood much for Doves, but once the giant screen flicked to life and the swell of the music started, the crowd was pretty excited. I'd always thought of Doves as a sort of slightly edgier contemporary of Coldplay, so while I could certainly enjoy the band's talents, I wasn't hugely more moved by the show than I'd been from their recordings. But, one takes what one can: I liked Jimi Goodwin's unshowy guitar parts, enjoyed the spectacle of their grainy projections and wished for a whole lot more banter in Jez Williams' proper Manc accent. Although the band's music has a certain grandeur, it has an admirably down-to-earth underpinning.

For those into the proceedings, it was certainly money's worth, with the show running ninety minutes. I though it hit its stride best with the Motown-inspired "Black and White Town" followed by "The Outsiders", though the main set closing "Caught By The River" might have been the crowd's top choice. After a four-song encore, the crowd — the predictable T.O. mix of aging britrockheads ans ex-pats — seemed pretty satisfied. This won't stand out as a landmark night for me as it clearly will for some who hold these songs near and dear to them, but it was a satisfactory night. But I could probably wait another year and a half to go back to Kool Haus without feeling any sorrow.

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¹ Spoon, October 15, 2007, to be exact.

² J. would later refer to them as "Wild Shite", but I think that's a bit harsh — more like "Mild Light".

Recording: The Diableros

Artist: The Diableros

Song: Heavy Hands

Recorded at Sneaky Dee's (Pitter Patter Festival), May 30, 2009.

The Diableros - Heavy Hands

My notes for this gig are here.

Recording: Terror Lake

Artist: Terror Lake

Song: Junebug

Pitter Patter Festival. Recorded live at Sneaky Dee's, May 30, 2009.

Terror Lake - Junebug

My notes for this gig are here.

Gig: The Diableros / Sports: The Band / Terror Lake / Archipelagos

The Diableros / Sports: The Band / Terror Lake / Archipelagos

Pitter Patter Festival. Sneaky Dee's. Saturday, May 30, 2009.

In an unusual confluence of gig-goin' events, this turned out to be my third Saturday night in a row at Sneaky Dee's.¹ Paid-what-I-could for entry to a Pitter Patter powered night and was on hand with the early crowd to see the lead-off band, Montreal's Archipelagos, the quickest summary of whom might be "Sounds Like: The National". By which I kinda mean rather a lot. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, by any means. Vocalist Jesse LeGallais even had a version that grip-your-own-forearm-and-twitch thing that Matt Berninger is remembered for.² This is not to sound snarky or dismissive, as the band were quite entertaining in their own right. With dramatic, carefully sculpted guitar parts and a smart sense for dynamics, the band's songs built up into some crafty little maelstroms. Suffering from the aftermath of van-related traumas which forced the band to stay overnight in Belleville while en route down the 401, the band played pretty intensely for a sparse crowd. Certainly worth keeping an eye on.

Terror Lake were a complete unknown to me, but left a very positive impression. A three piece, with two guitarists playing interlocking parts, drums and no bass. With that line-up and Wendy Fowler's vibrato, the words "Sleater" and "Kinney" might come to mind. But the band's approach is more akin to surf music, which gives them their own sound. Stripped-down and lean sounding, the band got great mileage from a rigourously lean aesthetic. Their half-hour set punched my buttons and are now on my list for another taste.

Listen to a song from this set here.

A bit of a change of pace after that as Sports: The Band took over. Smart pop, with boy-girl vox and a bit of a new wave sensibility. But also, as the set moved along and the band found their groove, increasingly dance friendly. Keyboardist/vocalist Robin Hatch, celebrating a birthday, came equipped with an elegant hat — we're talking hat-box-worthy — and took lead vox for some of the band's better material, including a peppy number presumably titled "Postcard". Sports had an eager crowd on hand which responded warmly for the whole forty-five minute set. Reasonably good stuff — a few of the songs didn't totally gel, but the band seems to be working towards a more interesting cohesion.³

The capper was the real treat of the night. The Diableros always put on a good show, and it'd been a decent stretch since seeing them last. With the prospect of new material in the offing, this was something I'd been looking forward to. The band lead off with a series of tracks from their soon-to-be-recorded EP that are a logical extension of their signature sound — like all of us, growing less fuzzed-out and sound-saturated with age.⁴ Of the new stuff, "Heavy Hands" had the best showing out-of-the gate.

The current lineup (containing only Pete Carmichael and guitarist Ian Jackson as long-time holdovers) seemed at ease with both new material and old. That Pitter Patter maven Keith Hamilton found time from what was presumably a busy weekend to play bass was pretty impressive. As the hour grew later, the crowd thinned out a bit, which left more room for the random intrusion of a gang of possibly drunk people intent on wrapping each other in police tape.⁵ It was a highly satisfying set, and I'm looking forward to hearing the new songs in their finished forms.

Listen to a track from this set here.

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¹ Although it might have a bit to do with the fact that, at the end of my kid-with-a-new-toy binge with my recording gear, I've found that my mics seem to work particularly well at Sneaks. Undoubtedly partially because I picked 'em to work well in small, loud spaces, but some credit is also due to Steve the Sound Guy, one of the city's best, who does a pretty amazing job, especially when you consider the sheer number of set-ups and changeovers on stage on a night like this.

² But the panicked, thousand-yard stare, his eyes bugging out and looking like they were about to roll backwards into his skull as he fell into a seizure is his own thing.

³ Although I think I'm going to quietly align myself here with the side that's advocating against vocoder use.

⁴ In fact, one of the new songs, rolling out at a sedate pace for The Diableros, talks about that fear of getting old, but holds out for the hope that "we'll still have rock and roll".

⁵ One of whom shouted, between songs, to one of her friends, "What's the name of this band? Chart Attack?" Guessing from the banner on the stage, she proceeded to chant, "Chart Attack! Chart Attack!"

Recording: Shellshag

Artist: Shellshag

Song: Gary's Note

Over the Top Festival. Recorded live at Sneaky Dee's, May 23, 2009.

Shellshag - Gary's Note

My notes for this gig are here.

Recording: Dinosaur Bones

Artist: Dinosaur Bones

Song: NYE

Recorded live at Velvet Underground, Toronto, May 30, 2009.

Dinosaur Bones - NYE

My notes for this gig can be found here.

Gig: Still Life Still / Dinosaur Bones / Casa Muerte

Still Life Still / Dinosaur Bones / Casa Muerte

Velvet Underground. Saturday, May 30, 2009.

With no pressing engagements on Saturday afternoon, decided on a whim to check out this Dan Burke-promoted matinée. Mostly as a second shot at a couple well-regarded bands that I had seen already but hadn't quite made up my mind over. Meant heading into the Velvet Underground, another venue that isn't usually on my list of places to visit. But an afternoon, all-ages show at least didn't bring out the spot's usual crowd, so that was okay.

Got there in time to see Casa Muerte, a young band that showed up with a half-dozen players plus a pair of dancers/percussionists. To go with the name, the band seemed to be sort of going for a Día de los Muertos look, with a couple members in face-paint skulls. The unified look was a bit undermined — the bassist, for example, was in a Godzilla t-shirt and matching make-up. At first I thought this might indicate his willingness to stomp all over the band's sound, as he was very far up in the mix throughout the set. But as things went on, I realized that the band seemed to be victims of extremely unsympathetic inattention from the soundman, so though I had some issues with the band's sound — everything muddled together with little sonic clarity — I don't think I can lay most of it at the band's feet.

What I did hear was... okay. The band seemed to be working towards classic pop tunes with slight psych-garage twist, boy-girl vox and a penchant for ba-ba-ba backing vocals. But there's a bit of the kitchen sink thrown in here as well. The vocal interplay between Ireek Sofakia and Madame Muertes (the band's best weapon) was the most interesting element. With the dancers up front, the band at least managed to keep things generally entertaining, if not, like their sound, a little too-busy.

For the first half of their set, Dinosaur Bones were plagued by similarly lousy house sound. Vocalist Ben Fox¹ sounded at the outset like he was phoning it in — quite literally — through a tinny, distant connection. And again, the bass was up in the mix and everything was EQ'd into a very narrow band. Then, during "Sharks in the Sand", it seemed as if the soundman decided to punch the clock and start twiddling knobs, as the sound suddenly and dramatically improved, finally allowing a proper appreciation of what they were up to. Just in time, too, for their no-doubt hit "NYE", which simmers with just the right amount of mid-tempo melancholy. Dino Bones are a bit too anthemic (in that British rock magazine sense) to be precisely my cup of tea, but I certainly gots respect for them.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Taking a bit of extra time after setting up for a rugby scrum-like group hug, Still Life Still at least got the benfit of "headliner sound" and were free of any technical problems. After having seen them previously, I left with no strongly fixed opinion. A second exposure didn't strongly affect me, either, perhaps shifting my opinion towards an ambivalent "meh". There are compelling elements to their sound, and one can see how they fit them into the Arts & Crafts mould, the first few songs bringing to mind Kevin Drew's solo album. But there's also something missing — both the prickly bits and that moment of sublime lift. It may just mark me as jaded, but to my ears, what A&C are pushing here is a slightly mersh version of their signature sound.

That's just me, mind you. The crowd at hand were very well into this, and came correct and prepared, clapping along to the beat in anticipation of single "Pastel", and reacting very positively throughout. The band played just under forty-five minutes, and there wasn't really any one song that strongly grabbed my attention.²

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¹ Rock t-shirt: French Kicks.

² Although one called "Neon Blue" did the trick a little bit.