I love music (yeah yeah you know that already), I love seeing music live (you know that already too), and I love loving both of those things (ditto)- that feeling, however, that feeling when you pass a band on to someone else and they end up loving the music, loving the show, loving the band... le sigh. Sharing the love... makes me feel like a bona fide hippie- and not in the unwashed and smelly kind of way.
I've said before that when I love a band, I'm not that bothered whether other people like them too, and that's true (only if they DO happen to like them, it kind of makes me super excited). That extends to pretty much any band I recommend to someone; I mean I might hear something and think its okay, but feel like it is right up Krista's or Em's or George's alley and then pass it on. Now even though I am not totally enamored with this band, if they like it, if I was right and it is up their alley, that is such a great feeling. If they really like it, if they love it, well then. Even better.
I am not someone who recommends bands willy nilly (neither do I trust the recommendations of those who do)! Recommending a band is like recommending a movie or a restaurant or a book: Just because I like it, doesn't mean everyone else will or should like it too. You have to take into consideration each person's individual taste, what other music they like, their favourite bands, and most importantly what it is that they like about their favourite music/bands. Someone who likes K-os for the singing parts is not necessarily gonna like Eminem, while someone who likes The Streets for their every-day-life lyrics would likely enjoy Scroobius Pip... I like to find out what it is about a song or a group that makes someone love it and then keep on the lookout for things that remind me of that...
Either way, you also have to be careful about how you recommend it... "You're gonna love these guys, they are sooooo good!" is almost as unflaggingly doomed as "You like the colour blue so you will love these blueberries!" Something like "So I found this band, they kind of remind me of Library Voices, maybe not quite as energetic, but you should give them a shot- I think you might like them!"- much more direct, much more honest, much more effective. Tells them what to expect and doesn't set the standard so high that they're bound to be disappointed regardless of how much they should logically love it.
When I first discover that a friend is in into music (sure arguably few people are not into music, but I mean 'into music' in an active way, where they will just sit down and listen to an album without doing other things, or get a craving for a certain band, or love going to live shows...) I start gathering information so I can make better recommendations. Making mental notes of which music they like and why. I mean its not a recommendation-a-month type of thing, more of a keep-an-eye-out matter, but I like to know what I'm keeping an eye out for. Of course if their tastes fall in line with mine I am bound to be passing on music on a more frequent basis, but regardless of my own reaction to new music my second question when I discover a new band is always 'who else do I know who would like this?"
Loving music is a pretty personal thing. Having a favourite band is a pretty personal thing. And recommending a possibly-future-band-like should be a pretty personal thing too. Don't cop out when passing-on bands: one good recommendation is so much better than ten unconsidered ones...!
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Of Radio and Research
I have recently gotten back into radio... that could mean so many things! well, okay maybe just a few things, but to dissect its actual intended meaning:
In university I hosted a radio show. Well actually I started out filling in for people who were sick/had exams or were in plays or whatever, then moved on to hosting a radio show with my friend Robyn, then later on a movie soundtrack show with another friend, Jess. I kind of loved it. For someone who used to be afraid of speaking in front of large crowds of people radio was perfection (yes perfection). It was just me and my friend, two microphones a couple turn tables, a tape player and a CD machine (ok CD player, but tape player followed by CD player just sounded lame...). No audience. Not in the studio, likely not even on the other end of the radio. Perfection! Well until the day when a person we had never met called in and we realized that there actually were people listening on the other end of the line... actually that was a really weird feeling, that you are being heard by people you've never seen and will likely never meet...More importantly you might play a song that introduces them to their future favourite band! Screw being afraid of talking in front of people, the possibility of introducing someone to new music far outweighed any fear. I was hooked.
At least until the end of university...
Once you get out into the real world its a little more difficult to get involved in radio. At least I thought it was... I later discovered that several people I knew had local radio shows, mostly on campus or community access radio, but I knew from experience that the fun part was the idea that even just one person you've never met might hear something you play and like it. If three people heard it, all the better, but I really couldn't (and still can't) fathom the idea of many more people than that hearing my voice on the radio (despite evidence to the contrary...)
So when Shawn asked me if I would do a Canadian music segment for his weekly radio show/podcast I lept at the chance. Not only was I excited to get back into radio, I was especially pumped to have an excuse to be up on Canadian Music. Alright, alright, I don't really need much of an excuse, but its nice to feel like there's a reason beyond "I just like it though...". Don't get me wrong, that is definitely enough of a reason for me, only sometimes, when people realize the depth of my love for it and the extent of my random can-con knowledge they seem a little weirded out by it. Tacking on "Well I do a weekly radio segment on Canadian bands..." takes the edge off a bit!
So this past week I went a bit bonkers with it. And my 'it' I mean research. And by 'research' I mean listening to a crap-ton of bands on a crap-ton of websites and blogs, and mining the minds of friends and fellow music lovers for their current favourites.
And it was awesome.
Alright the computer-dazed-headache thing wasn't so hot, but once the dust settled I was left with at least a handful (and at most an extensively annotated and very very long list...) of new-to-me bands to add to my listening list. And that most definitely is awesome. So I thought I would share a few with you!
First off, the tantalizingly-few-released-songs of Writers' Strike. Hailing from Halifax, this is the first band that has made me miss the Hali music scene since I moved away almost a year ago. Plus you can download their music for free (or 'pay what you feel like' which always makes me actually want to pay for the music)! Text-book Indie, the kind of band you hear and think "I bet they're good live..." I am going to have to send some of my east coast friends on reconnaissance missions over the next few months... Looking forward to the eventual release of a full length album
Though my 'research' was geared towards Canadian music, the band I have not been able to stop listening to is from Iceland. Of Monsters and Men. A little bit Arcade Fire, a little bit Library Voices, and a little bit Mumford and Sons, with maybe a dash of Phil Collins (okay that might just be me, but seriously, just a liiiitle bit!) their back-and-forth vocals, storytelling lyrics and loverly selection of horns, guitar and la la las gets me right in the stomach. Plus they've got the awesome (though sometimes subtle) Icelandic accents that just make all of the lyrics seem trapped in some sort of netherworld between Europe and North America, like they're singing from a bubble atop the Atlantic Ocean... or Iceland. Either way I am very much enjoying it!
Also not Canadian but instead from Rhode Island, Math the Band. Cheeky, a little silly, and a lot like 8-bit video game music, these guys are far from sophisticated, but way too much fun to not love. I spent the last three days listening to them while editing K's extensively long film-preservation paper and they acted as both excellent background music, and an exceptional distraction. Odd combination, but you'll just have to trust me on that. Like B.A. Johnson and The Beta Band had some sort of nintendo-playing wiz kid, they walk the line between quirky and ridiculous in an entertaining and (usually) fairly listenable manner.
So with the monster list I have awaiting further 'research' there are bound to be more of these types of posts in the next few months/weeks! If you've got any other bands you think I should check out, send em my way! Maybe I'll play them on the radio (well, only if they're Canadian, but I will listen to them either way)!
In university I hosted a radio show. Well actually I started out filling in for people who were sick/had exams or were in plays or whatever, then moved on to hosting a radio show with my friend Robyn, then later on a movie soundtrack show with another friend, Jess. I kind of loved it. For someone who used to be afraid of speaking in front of large crowds of people radio was perfection (yes perfection). It was just me and my friend, two microphones a couple turn tables, a tape player and a CD machine (ok CD player, but tape player followed by CD player just sounded lame...). No audience. Not in the studio, likely not even on the other end of the radio. Perfection! Well until the day when a person we had never met called in and we realized that there actually were people listening on the other end of the line... actually that was a really weird feeling, that you are being heard by people you've never seen and will likely never meet...More importantly you might play a song that introduces them to their future favourite band! Screw being afraid of talking in front of people, the possibility of introducing someone to new music far outweighed any fear. I was hooked.
At least until the end of university...
Once you get out into the real world its a little more difficult to get involved in radio. At least I thought it was... I later discovered that several people I knew had local radio shows, mostly on campus or community access radio, but I knew from experience that the fun part was the idea that even just one person you've never met might hear something you play and like it. If three people heard it, all the better, but I really couldn't (and still can't) fathom the idea of many more people than that hearing my voice on the radio (despite evidence to the contrary...)
So when Shawn asked me if I would do a Canadian music segment for his weekly radio show/podcast I lept at the chance. Not only was I excited to get back into radio, I was especially pumped to have an excuse to be up on Canadian Music. Alright, alright, I don't really need much of an excuse, but its nice to feel like there's a reason beyond "I just like it though...". Don't get me wrong, that is definitely enough of a reason for me, only sometimes, when people realize the depth of my love for it and the extent of my random can-con knowledge they seem a little weirded out by it. Tacking on "Well I do a weekly radio segment on Canadian bands..." takes the edge off a bit!
So this past week I went a bit bonkers with it. And my 'it' I mean research. And by 'research' I mean listening to a crap-ton of bands on a crap-ton of websites and blogs, and mining the minds of friends and fellow music lovers for their current favourites.
And it was awesome.
Alright the computer-dazed-headache thing wasn't so hot, but once the dust settled I was left with at least a handful (and at most an extensively annotated and very very long list...) of new-to-me bands to add to my listening list. And that most definitely is awesome. So I thought I would share a few with you!
First off, the tantalizingly-few-released-songs of Writers' Strike. Hailing from Halifax, this is the first band that has made me miss the Hali music scene since I moved away almost a year ago. Plus you can download their music for free (or 'pay what you feel like' which always makes me actually want to pay for the music)! Text-book Indie, the kind of band you hear and think "I bet they're good live..." I am going to have to send some of my east coast friends on reconnaissance missions over the next few months... Looking forward to the eventual release of a full length album
Though my 'research' was geared towards Canadian music, the band I have not been able to stop listening to is from Iceland. Of Monsters and Men. A little bit Arcade Fire, a little bit Library Voices, and a little bit Mumford and Sons, with maybe a dash of Phil Collins (okay that might just be me, but seriously, just a liiiitle bit!) their back-and-forth vocals, storytelling lyrics and loverly selection of horns, guitar and la la las gets me right in the stomach. Plus they've got the awesome (though sometimes subtle) Icelandic accents that just make all of the lyrics seem trapped in some sort of netherworld between Europe and North America, like they're singing from a bubble atop the Atlantic Ocean... or Iceland. Either way I am very much enjoying it!
Also not Canadian but instead from Rhode Island, Math the Band. Cheeky, a little silly, and a lot like 8-bit video game music, these guys are far from sophisticated, but way too much fun to not love. I spent the last three days listening to them while editing K's extensively long film-preservation paper and they acted as both excellent background music, and an exceptional distraction. Odd combination, but you'll just have to trust me on that. Like B.A. Johnson and The Beta Band had some sort of nintendo-playing wiz kid, they walk the line between quirky and ridiculous in an entertaining and (usually) fairly listenable manner.
So with the monster list I have awaiting further 'research' there are bound to be more of these types of posts in the next few months/weeks! If you've got any other bands you think I should check out, send em my way! Maybe I'll play them on the radio (well, only if they're Canadian, but I will listen to them either way)!
Friday, December 2, 2011
Hey, I know that guy!
If I have heard of a band and one of their songs has ever made me smile I will go see them in concert. Okay, if someone I trust to know my musical tastes says I will like them, I will also go. Alright, it doesn't take much for me to go to a concert, but it its even better when its one of 'your bands.' I love going to see bands I love, but there's this other thing you get to have happen sometimes that makes it just a little something else... a little more entertaining I would say. Yes, entertaining is the right word. When you know the person playing the music.
I remember the first time I went to see my cousin play a show- It was fantastic! The show was fun, they were good, and it was great- if odd- seeing these guys I'd known practically their whole lives rockin' out speed punk style... even the road to get to see them was epic (ok not the physical road, but the metaphoric one- I had tried to go see them three times previously but the first time the show got canceled, the second time I ended up having to work all weekend, and the third time- the third time I was soooooo close! Made it all the way to Waterloo and then *blamo* the great East Coast Blackout of 2003. Seriously. It was not meant to be).
Even hearing someone you know on CD... A few months ago I also happened across an old mix CD with one of my cousins old songs on it and found myself singing along for at least twice through before figuring out what it was... (Move to Bremerton, if you're one of like twenty people who has ever heard their album... geez I don't even know what band they were at the time! The Durty Sox maybe?) It made me remember who he was back then when they were writing those songs, just punk ass kids bangin shit out on their guitars... It definitely brought a smile to my face... Or this morning when I heard my friend Kevin's old band, The Dunn Project, and had a similar reaction (not the 'its not meant to be' one, the other one. The 'Ahaha I know that guy! Oh hey this is awesome, I like this music! Nice work friend, nice work!" one). You feel like you've got a little bit of an inside track on the music cuz you know one of the people making it, but then you also feel like you know them just a little bit better for having heard something they made...
The other way that this works is when you've seen a performer so many times, in such small venues that they get to know you- at first just by sight, then by name, then soon you're have actual conversations when you pass each other on the street, catching up and asking after each other's families... This used to happen to me with Old Man Luedecke back in Halifax, and my friend's friend Phil has an even more elaborate version with the loverly B.A. Johnson. Its kinda odd, but it seems somehow very Canadian.
This whole loverly making-you-like-the-music thing doesn't always work out perfectly, though. I mean there are bands I know whose music I am not super fond of- but knowing them personally does turn the experience from "Ho-hum" into "Well, I am smiling and bopping my head..." Case in point: I went to university with In-Flight Safety- never knew any of them well, but had friends in common so I saw them around- but I find their music, how shall I put this....? Boring. Fine, well played, but just Intensely. Boring. Nonetheless when I happen to pass by them playing at a festival or as an opening band, it makes me just a little bit happy to stand there and watch them for a few minutes. Not in an 'Hey guys, hey guys, I know the band!" sort of way, but in more of a "Hey I know you're just regular people from a regular place, and I think its kinda awesome that you're up there playing for loads of people" and I get this weird sense of pride. Again, not pride for me, not pride in something about myself, but being proud of them for doing what they love and getting some sort of recognition for it, even if its just playing their stuff and having people show up to hear it.
I suppose sometimes this also transfers to bands I don't know personally, but have just loved for forever... Like when I heard the Elliott Brood show in Ottawa was sold out- so proud of them. Or Arcade Fire making it big. Or Sam Roberts getting to play Massey Hall. Its weird, I have no reason to feel that way, but yeah- so proud.
I honestly think its one of the big reasons to see live music- you get to feel like you actually know the band/singer/guitarist/whatever. I mean, obviously you don't necessarily know them (except for when you do know them already, or come to know them though going to see them play...) but either way you get to physically, actually be in a room with them, to exist in the same actual physical space, and somehow that makes it all seem just a little bit more real. Its like seeing a work of art in person- anyone who says that a photo in a book is the same as the real thing has clearly never stood in front of their favourite statue or smelled their favourite oil painting (Yes smelled. Fine, think I'm weird, but you go stand in the JMW Turner Gallery at Tate Britain and tell me the smell doesn't transport you to a different era... also the light playing of the softly muted colour transitions... ok I'm gonna just leave it at that before I start to sound like an inaccessible art history text book...). But anyways, being in the same small space as someone making music makes the music make its way into you in a different way than just listening to it on CD. (I guess I'm not really talking about stadium shows or crazy huge tours here, but really I suppose it works in those situations too, to a certain extent- perhaps the effectiveness is inversely proportional to the size of the venue...?)
I realize I have all but totally lost the plot here, so I'll just say this: If you know someone in a band, go see them play. Even if you don't love their music when you hear it on the crappy CD they recorded in their basement, even if you don't really know any of the songs, just knowing them will make it a fun experience. Also you can make embarrassingly awesome fan t-shirts and wear them to the show. And maybe baseball hats too. Hats are cool.
I remember the first time I went to see my cousin play a show- It was fantastic! The show was fun, they were good, and it was great- if odd- seeing these guys I'd known practically their whole lives rockin' out speed punk style... even the road to get to see them was epic (ok not the physical road, but the metaphoric one- I had tried to go see them three times previously but the first time the show got canceled, the second time I ended up having to work all weekend, and the third time- the third time I was soooooo close! Made it all the way to Waterloo and then *blamo* the great East Coast Blackout of 2003. Seriously. It was not meant to be).
Even hearing someone you know on CD... A few months ago I also happened across an old mix CD with one of my cousins old songs on it and found myself singing along for at least twice through before figuring out what it was... (Move to Bremerton, if you're one of like twenty people who has ever heard their album... geez I don't even know what band they were at the time! The Durty Sox maybe?) It made me remember who he was back then when they were writing those songs, just punk ass kids bangin shit out on their guitars... It definitely brought a smile to my face... Or this morning when I heard my friend Kevin's old band, The Dunn Project, and had a similar reaction (not the 'its not meant to be' one, the other one. The 'Ahaha I know that guy! Oh hey this is awesome, I like this music! Nice work friend, nice work!" one). You feel like you've got a little bit of an inside track on the music cuz you know one of the people making it, but then you also feel like you know them just a little bit better for having heard something they made...
The other way that this works is when you've seen a performer so many times, in such small venues that they get to know you- at first just by sight, then by name, then soon you're have actual conversations when you pass each other on the street, catching up and asking after each other's families... This used to happen to me with Old Man Luedecke back in Halifax, and my friend's friend Phil has an even more elaborate version with the loverly B.A. Johnson. Its kinda odd, but it seems somehow very Canadian.
This whole loverly making-you-like-the-music thing doesn't always work out perfectly, though. I mean there are bands I know whose music I am not super fond of- but knowing them personally does turn the experience from "Ho-hum" into "Well, I am smiling and bopping my head..." Case in point: I went to university with In-Flight Safety- never knew any of them well, but had friends in common so I saw them around- but I find their music, how shall I put this....? Boring. Fine, well played, but just Intensely. Boring. Nonetheless when I happen to pass by them playing at a festival or as an opening band, it makes me just a little bit happy to stand there and watch them for a few minutes. Not in an 'Hey guys, hey guys, I know the band!" sort of way, but in more of a "Hey I know you're just regular people from a regular place, and I think its kinda awesome that you're up there playing for loads of people" and I get this weird sense of pride. Again, not pride for me, not pride in something about myself, but being proud of them for doing what they love and getting some sort of recognition for it, even if its just playing their stuff and having people show up to hear it.
I suppose sometimes this also transfers to bands I don't know personally, but have just loved for forever... Like when I heard the Elliott Brood show in Ottawa was sold out- so proud of them. Or Arcade Fire making it big. Or Sam Roberts getting to play Massey Hall. Its weird, I have no reason to feel that way, but yeah- so proud.
I honestly think its one of the big reasons to see live music- you get to feel like you actually know the band/singer/guitarist/whatever. I mean, obviously you don't necessarily know them (except for when you do know them already, or come to know them though going to see them play...) but either way you get to physically, actually be in a room with them, to exist in the same actual physical space, and somehow that makes it all seem just a little bit more real. Its like seeing a work of art in person- anyone who says that a photo in a book is the same as the real thing has clearly never stood in front of their favourite statue or smelled their favourite oil painting (Yes smelled. Fine, think I'm weird, but you go stand in the JMW Turner Gallery at Tate Britain and tell me the smell doesn't transport you to a different era... also the light playing of the softly muted colour transitions... ok I'm gonna just leave it at that before I start to sound like an inaccessible art history text book...). But anyways, being in the same small space as someone making music makes the music make its way into you in a different way than just listening to it on CD. (I guess I'm not really talking about stadium shows or crazy huge tours here, but really I suppose it works in those situations too, to a certain extent- perhaps the effectiveness is inversely proportional to the size of the venue...?)
I realize I have all but totally lost the plot here, so I'll just say this: If you know someone in a band, go see them play. Even if you don't love their music when you hear it on the crappy CD they recorded in their basement, even if you don't really know any of the songs, just knowing them will make it a fun experience. Also you can make embarrassingly awesome fan t-shirts and wear them to the show. And maybe baseball hats too. Hats are cool.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Oh Nintendo, You Really Do Love Deep Frying Squirrels
I'm not sure that I can ever properly explain why I would be so excited to see songs about Nintendo, pirates, Jesus' love for the Hamilton Tigercats, hot-dog-cart neighbors, hating squirrels, and loving deep fryers- but I am gonna give it a shot anyways...
A few years ago... Many years ago... Six years ago when I had first moved to Halifax, this 'singer' named B.A. Johnson got stranded out east and had to play several shows a week in order to make enough money to get home. I happened to see him open for Cuff the Duke and was really really REALLY taken by surprise. In his own words B.A. is a 'thirty year old boy,' who follows the golden rule of 'write what you know.' Only all B.A. knows is working at a fast food restaurant, playing video games, and living in his mom's basement. Surprisingly it makes for some of the funniest and most entertaining songs you'll ever hear, and perhaps consequently un-suprprisingly, I used to go see him play on almost a weekly basis. Eventually he made enough money to go back to Hamilton/Peterborough and I never saw him again. Until...
Fast forward to this past summer: I get a tantalising update of B.A. when, while at the hillside festival, I see a gentleman wearing a brand new B.A. Johnson T-shirt! He saw him perform in Peterborough only last week! B.A. has a new CD! We both love the 'I hate squirrels' song! I am sad he is not coming to Ottawa...
Fast forward about three weeks: My friend Josh is telling me about his weekend and mentioned that he saw "This guy B.A. Johnson play..." and I kind of flip out about it. I love B.A.! You love B.A.? You know who B.A. IS? I am excited josh knows who B.A. is! Josh is excited I know who B.A. is! We agree to go see him together next time he's in town...
Fast forward again to last night. B.A. at Irene's. We showed up part way through the opener and the bar was full (Full!?!?! but no! we have to see B.A.!!!). Waited for about half an hour and finally got in (with some gentlemanly 'No Ladies, you go ahead first.' -thanks Phil and Josh!) with a few songs to spare. then B.A. took the stage. Maybe stormed the stage would be more appropriate? Engulfed the stage?
B.A. Johnson is someone you really have to see live in order to fully appreciate him. He is one of the most skid people you will ever meet. He's got a damn respectable beer gut and some killer chops (yes, the facial hair kind), and I don't think I have ever seen him without a trucker hat (usually accompanied by a plaid shirt if wearing one at all). And he is funny. I mean really funny. He doesn't take himself seriously at all, plays the guitar and keyboard just well enough, and remembers all people who come to see him every time he's in town. He gave me a free CD when I told him that my ex took my copy when we broke up. I mean c'mon now, how can you not love this guy?
The night did not disappoint- it was funny, ridiculous, entertaining, and just a little bit gross. We drank beers, sang our hearts out, squeezed in to the women's bathroom for the smallest stage encore I have ever seen (B.A. standing on a sink is a sight not to be missed, in fact it need not be missed, as that up there is a video of the very event to which i just alluded...!). It was great.
Also it ended with me and two of my friends trying to prove we could kick the ceiling. Appropriate, no?
A few years ago... Many years ago... Six years ago when I had first moved to Halifax, this 'singer' named B.A. Johnson got stranded out east and had to play several shows a week in order to make enough money to get home. I happened to see him open for Cuff the Duke and was really really REALLY taken by surprise. In his own words B.A. is a 'thirty year old boy,' who follows the golden rule of 'write what you know.' Only all B.A. knows is working at a fast food restaurant, playing video games, and living in his mom's basement. Surprisingly it makes for some of the funniest and most entertaining songs you'll ever hear, and perhaps consequently un-suprprisingly, I used to go see him play on almost a weekly basis. Eventually he made enough money to go back to Hamilton/Peterborough and I never saw him again. Until...
Fast forward to this past summer: I get a tantalising update of B.A. when, while at the hillside festival, I see a gentleman wearing a brand new B.A. Johnson T-shirt! He saw him perform in Peterborough only last week! B.A. has a new CD! We both love the 'I hate squirrels' song! I am sad he is not coming to Ottawa...
Fast forward about three weeks: My friend Josh is telling me about his weekend and mentioned that he saw "This guy B.A. Johnson play..." and I kind of flip out about it. I love B.A.! You love B.A.? You know who B.A. IS? I am excited josh knows who B.A. is! Josh is excited I know who B.A. is! We agree to go see him together next time he's in town...
Fast forward again to last night. B.A. at Irene's. We showed up part way through the opener and the bar was full (Full!?!?! but no! we have to see B.A.!!!). Waited for about half an hour and finally got in (with some gentlemanly 'No Ladies, you go ahead first.' -thanks Phil and Josh!) with a few songs to spare. then B.A. took the stage. Maybe stormed the stage would be more appropriate? Engulfed the stage?
B.A. Johnson is someone you really have to see live in order to fully appreciate him. He is one of the most skid people you will ever meet. He's got a damn respectable beer gut and some killer chops (yes, the facial hair kind), and I don't think I have ever seen him without a trucker hat (usually accompanied by a plaid shirt if wearing one at all). And he is funny. I mean really funny. He doesn't take himself seriously at all, plays the guitar and keyboard just well enough, and remembers all people who come to see him every time he's in town. He gave me a free CD when I told him that my ex took my copy when we broke up. I mean c'mon now, how can you not love this guy?
The night did not disappoint- it was funny, ridiculous, entertaining, and just a little bit gross. We drank beers, sang our hearts out, squeezed in to the women's bathroom for the smallest stage encore I have ever seen (B.A. standing on a sink is a sight not to be missed, in fact it need not be missed, as that up there is a video of the very event to which i just alluded...!). It was great.
Also it ended with me and two of my friends trying to prove we could kick the ceiling. Appropriate, no?
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Opposite of the Bluegrass Blues...
Have I mentioned that I have fairly recently discovered that I adore bluegrass music? I put it that way, because I am pretty sure I've loved it for a while, I just had this mind-block about liking country (aka country is the best kind of music to not-like...), but I think I was only lying to myself. Cuz bluegrass is amazing.
Yesterday I got to experience two firsts and a wonderful... twentieth? eighteenth? (I'm not really sure actually...) It was my first time at the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, my first time seeing (or even ever hearing of) Lake of Stew and my many many many-th time seeing the incomparable Old Man Luedecke.
So The Black Sheep Inn. I've heard tell of its awesomeness via our loverly CBC radio, but had yet to experience it for myself. Now I've been to a lot of new (to me) venues over the past year, from the good (La Sala Rosa, Irene's) to the okay (the Bronson Centre), the awesome (Raw Sugar), and the pretty awful (I'm sorry Maverick's but your sound quality is just bad!), and the Black Sheep Inn is pretty tops. Sitting down without feeling stuffy (comfy chairs, good sized tables and standing room in back), good food and beer (mmmmm burgers...), not too loud (you can talk without shouting or feeling like you're interrupting the show), good sound (small enough to hear it mostly from the stage, but a good system too), and a great crowd (whom you get the feeling have been putting a shine on the bar for years..) this place is a great location to see live music. (Elliott Brood there in January- can't wait!)
So last night we started off with Lake of Stew- and a better starter could not have been had! One of those five-seconds-in-you-already-know-you-love-them kind of bands- at least for me, the rest of my table, and most of the audience, judging by the explosive applause (and the first time I have ever seen an opener do an encore!). Bluegrass to the absolute core, this Montreal-based ensemble boasts a wash-tub bass, harmonica, mandolin, banjo (of course), guitar, accordion, kazoo and washboard-percussion-section (you'd think maybe I have a bit of a thing for bands with weird instruments... did someone say Graveyard Train?). With oddly old-timey voices to match their oddly old-timey instruments, these guys really know how to rock out hillbilly style (which, believe it or not I mean as a compliment!). They are so down-home its almost hard to believe they hail from such a big city. Part of that is the feeling that you're just hangin' out in someone's [very big] living room, listening to a bunch of friends improv songs about food, love, and guys who almost were sorta kinda good at track back in high school. I swear they could get an adamant country-music-hater slapping their knee after a song or two- something I will remember in future should I encounter such a person...
Lake of Stew also just recently recorded an EP with Old Man Luedecke so he joined them for three or four songs at the end (including the aforementioned encore). It was nice to see two bands playing together and feeding off of one anothers' groove (almost like a workshop sessions at the hillside festival)- I wish more bands would do that...
Which brings us to Chris Luedecke- I've actually been seeing him perform for years (almost six years I think?) but he never ceases to impress me. His banjo playing is always astounding, but its his storytelling skillz that bring everything together. Whether its through the lyrics or the best between-song banter you'll ever experience (especially impressive as he is up there all alone...) you'll soon find yourself smiling your face off. Watching him perform is particularly odd for me as I often get flashbacks (I tried to think of a different word to use there cuz that makes me sound like I'm in some sort of horrible superhero tv show, but alas it is the only one which seems to appropriately describe them...) to the first time I heard him play whichever song he is about to perform. I was there for so many of the "This is the first time I've played this at a show" times that it feels like I've been watching his journey as an artist... I know that sounds super sappy, and I am a little embarrassed at having written it, but Chris is just so adorable (and amazingly talented and friendly etc etc etc) that its difficult to not get a little soppy when talking about him.
There's just something about the simplicity and the, lets face it, friendliness, of bluegrass that really gets to you, especially when you consider its actual complexity, and sometimes deceptively serious subject matter. If you're one of those people who finds themselves sitting on the 'I Hate Country/I Tap My Foot to Johnny Cash' fence, check out Lake of Stew or Old Man Luedecke in concert and I all but guarantee you'll find yourself in a field of 'I Love Bluegrass'
Yesterday I got to experience two firsts and a wonderful... twentieth? eighteenth? (I'm not really sure actually...) It was my first time at the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, my first time seeing (or even ever hearing of) Lake of Stew and my many many many-th time seeing the incomparable Old Man Luedecke.
So The Black Sheep Inn. I've heard tell of its awesomeness via our loverly CBC radio, but had yet to experience it for myself. Now I've been to a lot of new (to me) venues over the past year, from the good (La Sala Rosa, Irene's) to the okay (the Bronson Centre), the awesome (Raw Sugar), and the pretty awful (I'm sorry Maverick's but your sound quality is just bad!), and the Black Sheep Inn is pretty tops. Sitting down without feeling stuffy (comfy chairs, good sized tables and standing room in back), good food and beer (mmmmm burgers...), not too loud (you can talk without shouting or feeling like you're interrupting the show), good sound (small enough to hear it mostly from the stage, but a good system too), and a great crowd (whom you get the feeling have been putting a shine on the bar for years..) this place is a great location to see live music. (Elliott Brood there in January- can't wait!)
So last night we started off with Lake of Stew- and a better starter could not have been had! One of those five-seconds-in-you-already-know-you-love-them kind of bands- at least for me, the rest of my table, and most of the audience, judging by the explosive applause (and the first time I have ever seen an opener do an encore!). Bluegrass to the absolute core, this Montreal-based ensemble boasts a wash-tub bass, harmonica, mandolin, banjo (of course), guitar, accordion, kazoo and washboard-percussion-section (you'd think maybe I have a bit of a thing for bands with weird instruments... did someone say Graveyard Train?). With oddly old-timey voices to match their oddly old-timey instruments, these guys really know how to rock out hillbilly style (which, believe it or not I mean as a compliment!). They are so down-home its almost hard to believe they hail from such a big city. Part of that is the feeling that you're just hangin' out in someone's [very big] living room, listening to a bunch of friends improv songs about food, love, and guys who almost were sorta kinda good at track back in high school. I swear they could get an adamant country-music-hater slapping their knee after a song or two- something I will remember in future should I encounter such a person...
Lake of Stew also just recently recorded an EP with Old Man Luedecke so he joined them for three or four songs at the end (including the aforementioned encore). It was nice to see two bands playing together and feeding off of one anothers' groove (almost like a workshop sessions at the hillside festival)- I wish more bands would do that...
Which brings us to Chris Luedecke- I've actually been seeing him perform for years (almost six years I think?) but he never ceases to impress me. His banjo playing is always astounding, but its his storytelling skillz that bring everything together. Whether its through the lyrics or the best between-song banter you'll ever experience (especially impressive as he is up there all alone...) you'll soon find yourself smiling your face off. Watching him perform is particularly odd for me as I often get flashbacks (I tried to think of a different word to use there cuz that makes me sound like I'm in some sort of horrible superhero tv show, but alas it is the only one which seems to appropriately describe them...) to the first time I heard him play whichever song he is about to perform. I was there for so many of the "This is the first time I've played this at a show" times that it feels like I've been watching his journey as an artist... I know that sounds super sappy, and I am a little embarrassed at having written it, but Chris is just so adorable (and amazingly talented and friendly etc etc etc) that its difficult to not get a little soppy when talking about him.
There's just something about the simplicity and the, lets face it, friendliness, of bluegrass that really gets to you, especially when you consider its actual complexity, and sometimes deceptively serious subject matter. If you're one of those people who finds themselves sitting on the 'I Hate Country/I Tap My Foot to Johnny Cash' fence, check out Lake of Stew or Old Man Luedecke in concert and I all but guarantee you'll find yourself in a field of 'I Love Bluegrass'
Sunday, November 20, 2011
The Best Drum Kit in All The Land
So a few weeks ago I kinda really ripped into the band One Hundred Dollars for being one of the most ineffective opening acts I had ever seen (aka super creepy, played for too long, would have been better on CD, etc...). To be honest (and I'm not sure if i said this at the time) but it kind of ruined the rest of the show for me. Alright, not strictly speaking, as it is practically impossible for anything to ruin Elliott Brood, but it was definitely the least fun I had ever had at an EB show... Now normally that would mean I would really try to never see said offending band again, but 'twas not to be so. Elliott Brood played in Montreal last night, and I could not resist, despite the opening act.
I was tempted to skip them (the opener, not the whole show) but I had hyped their creepyness so much to my sister and her friend that it would have just been mean to deprive them of their own experience... Then I realised that it was actually a win win situation- if they were horrible again I was not only prepared, but would enjoy seeing everyone else's reaction, and if they were great (or even just good!) I would be pleasantly surprised. The only way they could possibly disappoint me would be by being slightly better than barely passable. So I guess technically more of a win-win-lose situation (66/33 odds are better than 50/50...) So we went for the whole show. Good decision.
One Hundred Dollars
To be fair, it would have been pretty difficult for them to get much worse, but One Hundred Dollars' performance was vastly superior to the last time I saw them. There were no scary eyes and pointing, no glares full of loathing, no horrible tension and sense of impending doom... I mean don't get me wrong, the lead singer still had her super creepy moments, but they were few and far between, and actually seemed to fit with the songs (as opposed to overshadow them like the darkness of everlasting night...). It felt like classic country instead of the jumble of conflicting and depressing visuals (and soundicals) of their previous performance. The lyrics fit nicely with the flowing and surprisingly upbeat music, the crowd sang along with most of the songs (we even seemed to learn a lot of new ones by then end) and everyone benefited from the general sense of camaraderie resulting from this being the last date they would play with Elliott Brood. It didn't completely wipe their last performance from my mind, but it was a good set and it created a mood the way an opening act should do. Should I ever happen upon them at a festival or as an opening act, I look forward to having my first impression of them more fully expunged.
Elliott Brood
Now THIS is what I'm talkin' about!!! With the much much MUCH improved opening performance the crowd was in just the right kind of mood for the Brood boys. Enthusiastically joking, jumping and juggling (ok there wasn't any juggling- I just couldn't think of another 'j' word...) they blazed through one of the best sets I've ever seen them play. With songs I havn't seen in years (President 35 was faaaaantastic), classy duds, and the best drum kit this side of anywhere (ok I might be a little biased, but c'mon, a birch bark and tree-cross-section kit? so appropriate...) they had the audience belting it out and dancing along with every song. Danielle even mentioned that this was practically the most enthusiastic she had ever seen a Montreal crowd (an impressive compliment, as many Montreal concert-goers will know).
I was tempted to skip them (the opener, not the whole show) but I had hyped their creepyness so much to my sister and her friend that it would have just been mean to deprive them of their own experience... Then I realised that it was actually a win win situation- if they were horrible again I was not only prepared, but would enjoy seeing everyone else's reaction, and if they were great (or even just good!) I would be pleasantly surprised. The only way they could possibly disappoint me would be by being slightly better than barely passable. So I guess technically more of a win-win-lose situation (66/33 odds are better than 50/50...) So we went for the whole show. Good decision.
One Hundred Dollars
To be fair, it would have been pretty difficult for them to get much worse, but One Hundred Dollars' performance was vastly superior to the last time I saw them. There were no scary eyes and pointing, no glares full of loathing, no horrible tension and sense of impending doom... I mean don't get me wrong, the lead singer still had her super creepy moments, but they were few and far between, and actually seemed to fit with the songs (as opposed to overshadow them like the darkness of everlasting night...). It felt like classic country instead of the jumble of conflicting and depressing visuals (and soundicals) of their previous performance. The lyrics fit nicely with the flowing and surprisingly upbeat music, the crowd sang along with most of the songs (we even seemed to learn a lot of new ones by then end) and everyone benefited from the general sense of camaraderie resulting from this being the last date they would play with Elliott Brood. It didn't completely wipe their last performance from my mind, but it was a good set and it created a mood the way an opening act should do. Should I ever happen upon them at a festival or as an opening act, I look forward to having my first impression of them more fully expunged.
Elliott Brood
Now THIS is what I'm talkin' about!!! With the much much MUCH improved opening performance the crowd was in just the right kind of mood for the Brood boys. Enthusiastically joking, jumping and juggling (ok there wasn't any juggling- I just couldn't think of another 'j' word...) they blazed through one of the best sets I've ever seen them play. With songs I havn't seen in years (President 35 was faaaaantastic), classy duds, and the best drum kit this side of anywhere (ok I might be a little biased, but c'mon, a birch bark and tree-cross-section kit? so appropriate...) they had the audience belting it out and dancing along with every song. Danielle even mentioned that this was practically the most enthusiastic she had ever seen a Montreal crowd (an impressive compliment, as many Montreal concert-goers will know).
Elliot Brood's strikingly appropriate and amazing drum kit
Nobutseriously I am completely in love with their choice of visuals...
(Its not every day you get to love a band for their music and their artwork!)
I wouldn't have admitted it before, but I was really disappointed in the last show and pretty sad to have to have that as my most recent memory of them for even a few weeks. Happily this fantastic concert has all but erased the un-fantasticness of the former one. Next up? At the Black Sheep Tavern in January... Four times in seven months? Not bad.
Oh right, one last thing; my sister finally got the opportunity to massively make fun of me for my Mark Sasso love when he walked in front of us and I turned all red. Really really red. Yes they could tell even in the dark, that's how bad it was. Damn band loves... Now I just have to figure out a way to get back at her by making her be suddenly face to face with Library Voices...!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Cuff the Duke: They make bad sound sound good
Oh Cuff the Duke, so very country, so very Oshawa, so very much the only band that seems to be able to consistently sound good when playing at the consistently-bad-sounding Maverick's... I'm not quite sure how they do it- perhaps they are very thorough in their sound checks? Maybe they've just played there so many times that they have this special way of tuning their instruments? Maybe they're just magical... Whatever it is, they consistently deliver.
I don't know that that sounds like a compliment, but it is certainly meant as such. With Cuff the Duke you know what you're getting: they're straightforward blue collar guys singing about their experiences growing up in a straight-up blue collar town- something that is a really common experience in life, but not something commonly sung about in music. And it speaks to me. It sounds corny, but its true! There is something about Cuff the Duke's music that makes me feel at home.
It may be because half of my family is from Oshawa- I grew up going to family gatherings there in the old house, driving by the GM plant, thinking it was super cool to have a corner store literally right on the corner (we didn't really have that kind of stuff in the 'burbs). So many of my Grandma's childhood stories were about the quintessentially blue-collar-Oshawa that I'm sure I likely always pictured it as the depression era town where my Great Grandfather fixed porches to put food on the table and my Grandma scooped at the ice cream counter... but there is just something about Oshawa, something shared by London Ontario, by Edmonton, by Winnipeg, and by parts of Calgary and Hamilton... something so rarely captured in popular music but so clearly its very distinct thing... and Cuff the Duke encapsulates it perfectly.
Maybe thats why they sound good at Maverick's when everyone else sounds like crap- They understand the uneven floors, they understand the weirdly placed pillars and the unhinged bathrooms doors, the room sees that they understand it and it pays them thanks by helping them sound good. Or maybe they just sound that good. I guess we'll never know...
I don't know that that sounds like a compliment, but it is certainly meant as such. With Cuff the Duke you know what you're getting: they're straightforward blue collar guys singing about their experiences growing up in a straight-up blue collar town- something that is a really common experience in life, but not something commonly sung about in music. And it speaks to me. It sounds corny, but its true! There is something about Cuff the Duke's music that makes me feel at home.
It may be because half of my family is from Oshawa- I grew up going to family gatherings there in the old house, driving by the GM plant, thinking it was super cool to have a corner store literally right on the corner (we didn't really have that kind of stuff in the 'burbs). So many of my Grandma's childhood stories were about the quintessentially blue-collar-Oshawa that I'm sure I likely always pictured it as the depression era town where my Great Grandfather fixed porches to put food on the table and my Grandma scooped at the ice cream counter... but there is just something about Oshawa, something shared by London Ontario, by Edmonton, by Winnipeg, and by parts of Calgary and Hamilton... something so rarely captured in popular music but so clearly its very distinct thing... and Cuff the Duke encapsulates it perfectly.
Maybe thats why they sound good at Maverick's when everyone else sounds like crap- They understand the uneven floors, they understand the weirdly placed pillars and the unhinged bathrooms doors, the room sees that they understand it and it pays them thanks by helping them sound good. Or maybe they just sound that good. I guess we'll never know...
Friday, November 4, 2011
Please tell me you love something this much...
I am at this particular moment realizing the extent of my love for Elliot Brood.
Its extensive.
Having said that, I find that I don't really care one way or another whether friends, family or strangers feel the same way. Elliot Brood brings me great amounts of joy (They make me happy when I'm feeling sad, happier when I'm already feeling happy, and like dancing around my living room when I've had too much to drink. that may or may not be what I am doing at this very moment. Yes while holding my computer and typing. I'm just awesome like that), but it is completely inconsequential to me whether they make anyone else just as happy. What I do want, what I want most definitely, is for everyone to have something, anything, that makes them feel like this. A band, a television show, a favourite meal or whatever else. Something, just something, that makes them feel like everything in the world is fine. Like nothing could possibly be wrong if something so happy-making exists.
Because seriously, if the opening chord of The Valley Town doesn't represent all that is right with the world, I am made of a pile of sticks. Or carrots. One of the two.
Its extensive.
Having said that, I find that I don't really care one way or another whether friends, family or strangers feel the same way. Elliot Brood brings me great amounts of joy (They make me happy when I'm feeling sad, happier when I'm already feeling happy, and like dancing around my living room when I've had too much to drink. that may or may not be what I am doing at this very moment. Yes while holding my computer and typing. I'm just awesome like that), but it is completely inconsequential to me whether they make anyone else just as happy. What I do want, what I want most definitely, is for everyone to have something, anything, that makes them feel like this. A band, a television show, a favourite meal or whatever else. Something, just something, that makes them feel like everything in the world is fine. Like nothing could possibly be wrong if something so happy-making exists.
Because seriously, if the opening chord of The Valley Town doesn't represent all that is right with the world, I am made of a pile of sticks. Or carrots. One of the two.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Stadium What? Mumford and Sons, what have you driven me to?
Mumford and Sons at the Bell Centre in Montreal. Seriously, The Bell Centre. This was weird. I haven't been to a stadium show since... since... have I ever? oh no wait, yes. So I haven't been to a stadium show since the Sky dome was still called the Sky Dome... for those of you too young to remeber that, thats because it was a looooong time ago...
Alright, technically I have been to many many stadium shows, but always when I was working them, so that means seeing the show from backstage, or more precisely, kind of onstage but just off to the side, like on the stairs or something. And that is pretty good. Sometimes really good (Pearl Jam hour-long encore of only songs from the 90s when I used to listen to them all of the time because my friend Oleana loved them more than air... definitely one of those 'How am I getting paid to be here!?!' moments). But seeing a stadium show from the audience is.... weird.
Most of the bands I like are Canadian. Some of them are respectably popular, Massey Hall type bands (Sam Roberts, Arcade Fire... ok maybe just those two) but most of them are still wee, with smaller, albeit fiercely loyal fans (Library Voices, Elliot Brood, Old Man Luedecke, Said The Whale, Cuff the Duke, B.A. Johnson, Karkwa, Final Fantasy, The Wooden Sky, the list goes on...). Most of the venues I frequent are small. Some very small. We're talking like 60-70 people here, some of the shows even only have a few dozen people in the crowd- and that usually makes them even better! Not because I have some big thing about not liking popular bands, but because it means you actually get to be close! You get to feel the bass pumping in your chest, you get the guitarist's sweat all over you, you get to be in the mosh pit, dancing and jumping along with everyone else there. You get to feel like a part of something. And thats what I love about seeing music live, feeling like a part of something.
In a stadium that feeling is just not there. You would think that having so many more people share in the experience would feel like even more of being a part of something. I went to my first NHL game a few weeks ago and definitely felt like a part of something, but for some reason the concert-going stadium just isn't the same. Maybe its because they're putting on a show. They're not playing [a game of hockey or a song] they're putting on a show. And its kinda weird.
Having said that, Mumford and Sons did impress me... I imagine that had something to do with there being a banjo played to thousands of people ;o) but really it was the way they managed to make it feel like a small venue. Now don't get me wrong, I would have obviously much rather seen them in a club that holds a hundred people, but when they started playing, it was almost as if the entire stadium shrank. I didn't know that could happen. Apparently it can.
Besides being an interesting experience (my foray into non-Canadian, non-small-time concert going), it made clear to me that I am not one of those people who is in it for the lights and the pyro and the fifty foot tall speaker racks (ok, ok, fifty foot tall speaker racks in a small place would make for some pretty excellent bass...)- I'm in it for the music, man! Well that and the jumping around getting covered in boy-sweat and feeling the bass drum in your stomach... but yeah, the music, man!
Alright, technically I have been to many many stadium shows, but always when I was working them, so that means seeing the show from backstage, or more precisely, kind of onstage but just off to the side, like on the stairs or something. And that is pretty good. Sometimes really good (Pearl Jam hour-long encore of only songs from the 90s when I used to listen to them all of the time because my friend Oleana loved them more than air... definitely one of those 'How am I getting paid to be here!?!' moments). But seeing a stadium show from the audience is.... weird.
Most of the bands I like are Canadian. Some of them are respectably popular, Massey Hall type bands (Sam Roberts, Arcade Fire... ok maybe just those two) but most of them are still wee, with smaller, albeit fiercely loyal fans (Library Voices, Elliot Brood, Old Man Luedecke, Said The Whale, Cuff the Duke, B.A. Johnson, Karkwa, Final Fantasy, The Wooden Sky, the list goes on...). Most of the venues I frequent are small. Some very small. We're talking like 60-70 people here, some of the shows even only have a few dozen people in the crowd- and that usually makes them even better! Not because I have some big thing about not liking popular bands, but because it means you actually get to be close! You get to feel the bass pumping in your chest, you get the guitarist's sweat all over you, you get to be in the mosh pit, dancing and jumping along with everyone else there. You get to feel like a part of something. And thats what I love about seeing music live, feeling like a part of something.
In a stadium that feeling is just not there. You would think that having so many more people share in the experience would feel like even more of being a part of something. I went to my first NHL game a few weeks ago and definitely felt like a part of something, but for some reason the concert-going stadium just isn't the same. Maybe its because they're putting on a show. They're not playing [a game of hockey or a song] they're putting on a show. And its kinda weird.
Having said that, Mumford and Sons did impress me... I imagine that had something to do with there being a banjo played to thousands of people ;o) but really it was the way they managed to make it feel like a small venue. Now don't get me wrong, I would have obviously much rather seen them in a club that holds a hundred people, but when they started playing, it was almost as if the entire stadium shrank. I didn't know that could happen. Apparently it can.
Of course I would have preferred to see them here...
Besides being an interesting experience (my foray into non-Canadian, non-small-time concert going), it made clear to me that I am not one of those people who is in it for the lights and the pyro and the fifty foot tall speaker racks (ok, ok, fifty foot tall speaker racks in a small place would make for some pretty excellent bass...)- I'm in it for the music, man! Well that and the jumping around getting covered in boy-sweat and feeling the bass drum in your stomach... but yeah, the music, man!
Library Voices in Montreal OR Why Enthusiasm Matters
So my sister has been spending the past six months working on a devious plan to get me to like all of her favourite bands... I should say that this is a) not that devious (basically it consists of making me mixed cds for the car...) and b) not that difficult a task, since we pretty much like the same kind of music to begin with, just different individual bands. Nonetheless it has been a rather successful undertaking, reaching its zenith during the Library Voices show in Montreal this past Wednesday.
Library Voices are my sister's favourite band. Now I know that you think you know what I mean when I say "Favourite Band" but I am rather pretty friggin certain that you are underestimating that statement. Lets put it this way: during a hypothetical conversation about the implausible situation of waking up one day to find all of your musical tastes had been reversed, she suddenly became wide eyed and said (in a barely audible whisper) "But... but... not liking Library Voices would make my heart hurt...!" and then proceeded to tear up. Honest to god actual shiny eyes. Oh little sister, in all my years of encouraging your music love I have never been so proud... ;o)
At any rate, this was by far the band she was most excited for me to see live and most hoping I would enjoy. So we went. Its kind of a lot of pressure- Just before the first song my sister turned to me and says " I am SOOOO excited you're going to see them!!!" (Pressure?!? yes.) I have to say I like their cds a lot, but they aren't my absolute favourite, the venue was pretty small (all parties admitting it was because they never fill the bigger ones), and the opener was good but a little snippy. In other words it was an alright set up, but my expectations were on the low side.
They needn't have been.
Even if I was expecting Elvis or Springsteen, Foggerty or Freddy Mercury, I would not have been disappointed. By the second song I understood her trauma at the thought of not liking them. By the third song I was belting out the words to songs I didn't even know I knew. And by song four I was already sure this was making it into my all-time-top-five-concerts. No joke.
My requirements for concert awesomeness?
1) Enthusiasm (the band looks like they want to be there)? Check.
2) Good sound (loud but not so loud it makes your ears bleed, thumping but clean)? Check.
3) Dancing (cuz they/we can't help it)? Check.
4) Sweat (them, me, everyone... if we 'aint all sweatin they 'aint doin' something right)? Check.
and above all else
5) Joy (they are just having so much fun that you can't help but be filled with glee)? Check.
And they were there in spades. All of 'em. Each and every member of the band spent the entire show looking like it was the only place on earth they ever wanted to be (from stepping foot one on stage to coming back out at the end to assure a super fan that they didn't play her favourite song- not because they didn't want to- but because they didn't have the right instruments there and were crap at playing it live). They made each of us in the small but enthusiastic audience feel like we were in on some sort of inside joke, like we were an integral part of their joy, like we were all in the same boat, and that it was the best boat anyone could ever be in. They rocked. They sweated. They danced and jumped and smiled their faces off. They were funny, they were energetic. They were awesome in the original sense of the word.
Sometimes a band is good. Sometimes they're good live and not on cd, or good on cd and not live- sometimes that evens out and makes them just ok. But sometimes, sometimes a band is so good live that it makes listening to them on record amazing. Library Voices is one of those bands. If you ever get the chance to see them in concert, drop everything and do it. It may be in a small venue, there may only be twenty people there (how do more people not know about these guys!?!) but trust me, there is no way you will come away from it not having fallen in love.
Library Voices are my sister's favourite band. Now I know that you think you know what I mean when I say "Favourite Band" but I am rather pretty friggin certain that you are underestimating that statement. Lets put it this way: during a hypothetical conversation about the implausible situation of waking up one day to find all of your musical tastes had been reversed, she suddenly became wide eyed and said (in a barely audible whisper) "But... but... not liking Library Voices would make my heart hurt...!" and then proceeded to tear up. Honest to god actual shiny eyes. Oh little sister, in all my years of encouraging your music love I have never been so proud... ;o)
At any rate, this was by far the band she was most excited for me to see live and most hoping I would enjoy. So we went. Its kind of a lot of pressure- Just before the first song my sister turned to me and says " I am SOOOO excited you're going to see them!!!" (Pressure?!? yes.) I have to say I like their cds a lot, but they aren't my absolute favourite, the venue was pretty small (all parties admitting it was because they never fill the bigger ones), and the opener was good but a little snippy. In other words it was an alright set up, but my expectations were on the low side.
They needn't have been.
Even if I was expecting Elvis or Springsteen, Foggerty or Freddy Mercury, I would not have been disappointed. By the second song I understood her trauma at the thought of not liking them. By the third song I was belting out the words to songs I didn't even know I knew. And by song four I was already sure this was making it into my all-time-top-five-concerts. No joke.
My requirements for concert awesomeness?
1) Enthusiasm (the band looks like they want to be there)? Check.
2) Good sound (loud but not so loud it makes your ears bleed, thumping but clean)? Check.
3) Dancing (cuz they/we can't help it)? Check.
4) Sweat (them, me, everyone... if we 'aint all sweatin they 'aint doin' something right)? Check.
and above all else
5) Joy (they are just having so much fun that you can't help but be filled with glee)? Check.
And they were there in spades. All of 'em. Each and every member of the band spent the entire show looking like it was the only place on earth they ever wanted to be (from stepping foot one on stage to coming back out at the end to assure a super fan that they didn't play her favourite song- not because they didn't want to- but because they didn't have the right instruments there and were crap at playing it live). They made each of us in the small but enthusiastic audience feel like we were in on some sort of inside joke, like we were an integral part of their joy, like we were all in the same boat, and that it was the best boat anyone could ever be in. They rocked. They sweated. They danced and jumped and smiled their faces off. They were funny, they were energetic. They were awesome in the original sense of the word.
Sometimes a band is good. Sometimes they're good live and not on cd, or good on cd and not live- sometimes that evens out and makes them just ok. But sometimes, sometimes a band is so good live that it makes listening to them on record amazing. Library Voices is one of those bands. If you ever get the chance to see them in concert, drop everything and do it. It may be in a small venue, there may only be twenty people there (how do more people not know about these guys!?!) but trust me, there is no way you will come away from it not having fallen in love.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Judging a Band by Their Artwork
Art means a lot to me. Pretty much everyone who knows me knows that. People who talk to me on the street gather that in about the first five minutes... I feel that the art someone makes (or for that matter chooses to display as a part of themselves- in their home or in association with something they have created like a book or a CD) says a lot about them as a person- obvious statement I know, perhaps even a bit trite, but I mean in in an actual way. Like seeing someone's artwork, for me, helps me understand them better than anything else does.
Over the years I have likewise noticed that choosing albums based on their covers has never let me down. Now I know that it goes against the tried and true saying, that parents and teachers everywhere cringe as I type these words, but when taken quite literally (as in judging actual books or in this case CDs) I find that time and time again if an author or a band likes their art, and I like their art, I will also like said band.
So. I just discovered ('just discovered,' like not five minutes ago just discovered) that the artwork for my favourite band (Elliot Brood) is, in fact, all created my the banjo player and co-lead-singer of the band, Mark Sasso. This is 1) odd for me because I have loved this band for about five years and I'm not quite sure how I was not previously aware of this fact and 2) particularly odd, seeing as how they are my favourite band musically (on my bike, in the car, in the summer, in the fall, live, on cd, basically just best. yeah, just best) but also by leagues my favourite band artistically (well, by leagues I really mean that The Decemberists are a very close second, but that these two bands are leagues ahead of all the rest... incidentally I also just recently found out that all of The Decemberists' illustrations are created by the wife of lead singer Colin Meloy!).
I love this artwork. I have a limited edition, beautifully hand-made release of their album Ambassador, which I bought the first time I ever saw them in concert, and lovingly display on my bookcase. When they're setting up for a show I peer around other concert goers to get a look at their set pieces, the bass drum image, the carved chair... The first thing I do when I buy one of their CDs is open the cover and pull out the innards to see what they've done this time (sometimes a train schedule, other times a hand written note...). I even decorated my bike helmet with Elliot Brood inspired designs. Their stuff has such a great sense of narrative (just like their music) and nostalgia (just like their music) and frontier aesthetics (just like their music) and quirkyness (wait for it...... just like their music).
I seriously love this band's artwork. Seriously. And finding out that its made by someone in the band makes me love them even more than when I thought they just liked it too.
Its kind of weird when you think you can't love something more and then get proven wrong. Of course I guess that happens often when you read/listen to things covered by artwork you love... 'Can't judge a book by its cover' my ass!
Over the years I have likewise noticed that choosing albums based on their covers has never let me down. Now I know that it goes against the tried and true saying, that parents and teachers everywhere cringe as I type these words, but when taken quite literally (as in judging actual books or in this case CDs) I find that time and time again if an author or a band likes their art, and I like their art, I will also like said band.
So. I just discovered ('just discovered,' like not five minutes ago just discovered) that the artwork for my favourite band (Elliot Brood) is, in fact, all created my the banjo player and co-lead-singer of the band, Mark Sasso. This is 1) odd for me because I have loved this band for about five years and I'm not quite sure how I was not previously aware of this fact and 2) particularly odd, seeing as how they are my favourite band musically (on my bike, in the car, in the summer, in the fall, live, on cd, basically just best. yeah, just best) but also by leagues my favourite band artistically (well, by leagues I really mean that The Decemberists are a very close second, but that these two bands are leagues ahead of all the rest... incidentally I also just recently found out that all of The Decemberists' illustrations are created by the wife of lead singer Colin Meloy!).
I love this artwork. I have a limited edition, beautifully hand-made release of their album Ambassador, which I bought the first time I ever saw them in concert, and lovingly display on my bookcase. When they're setting up for a show I peer around other concert goers to get a look at their set pieces, the bass drum image, the carved chair... The first thing I do when I buy one of their CDs is open the cover and pull out the innards to see what they've done this time (sometimes a train schedule, other times a hand written note...). I even decorated my bike helmet with Elliot Brood inspired designs. Their stuff has such a great sense of narrative (just like their music) and nostalgia (just like their music) and frontier aesthetics (just like their music) and quirkyness (wait for it...... just like their music).
I seriously love this band's artwork. Seriously. And finding out that its made by someone in the band makes me love them even more than when I thought they just liked it too.
Its kind of weird when you think you can't love something more and then get proven wrong. Of course I guess that happens often when you read/listen to things covered by artwork you love... 'Can't judge a book by its cover' my ass!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
When they are good they are very very good, and when they are bad...
As you have likely gathered, I enjoy discovering new bands through live music. Of course there's the radio (mostly CBC, cuz I'm a Canadian, and a dork ;o) and recommendations from friends, but there's nothing like that feeling of being captured by someone onstage who you've never heard of before, picking up their cd and then listening to it in the car non-stop for the next three weeks... Festivals are great spots for this to happen, but the more common (read non-summer) experience of live-band-discovery happens during openers.
Mostly openers are so-so. Come ci Come ca. Fine. sometimes they're awesome and you want to take them home in your pocket (Rah Rah opening for Said the Whale, The Daredevil Christopher Wright opening for Dan Mangan), and every once in a while they just make you mad. because they're wrecking the vibe. seriously. wrecking. it. I went to two shows last weekend covering both ends of the spectrum. And here they are:
Wrecking-the-vibe: One Hundred Dollars opening for Elliot Brood
I love Elliot Brood. I really Really do. And there is nothing that could wreck an Elliot Brood show for me, but One Hundred Dollars came pretty 'effin close. They were alright at first, a little intense but the lead singer's voice was excellent and the guitarist was entertaining, but it was just so.... well weird really. The band members didn't actually seem to like each other very much and the singer acted like she was on heroin. It was like she was starting into your soul, and not in a good way. We were creeped out. And by 'we' I mean we alllllll were creeped out. Every single person around me turned to their friends at least once and literally said "Man, she is creepin' me ouuuuut!" And it just. kept. going. It didn't get less creepy, it just got more so. For almost an hour. A creepy opener for almost an hour. not cool. Thank goodness I love the Brood boys or this might have been an all out wash. Close save.
So-awesome-you-want-to-take-them-home-in-your-pocket: Northcote opening for The Wooden Sky
the following night, on the COMPLETE opposite end of the spectrum... The Wooden Sky were great (though I had my first experience of actually feeling too close as I almost got hit with the guitar neck a few times...), but I had seen them a few times on youtube and was expecting said greatness. Still great, but expected. Northcote was phenomenal and unexpected. Singer Matt Goud is an adorably bearded ginger, who is as friendly as he is talented, and the guitarist and bassist/melodica-ist are equally good-natured and good-skilled. They breezed through a too-short [only because it was awesome, I'm sure it was actually regular-lengthed] set and finished off with a few older songs (one of which I got to play the tambourine for ;o), punctuating the whole thing with cheerful banter, gigantic smiles, and genuine mirth. Their music was beautiful, they were wonderful, and it made the whole evening just vibrate with happiness.
This is what an opening band should be. Heck this is what all bands should be. Thanks Northcote for undoing the momentary disillusionment created by One Hundred Dollars. And thanks for just being generally fantastic.
Mostly openers are so-so. Come ci Come ca. Fine. sometimes they're awesome and you want to take them home in your pocket (Rah Rah opening for Said the Whale, The Daredevil Christopher Wright opening for Dan Mangan), and every once in a while they just make you mad. because they're wrecking the vibe. seriously. wrecking. it. I went to two shows last weekend covering both ends of the spectrum. And here they are:
Wrecking-the-vibe: One Hundred Dollars opening for Elliot Brood
I love Elliot Brood. I really Really do. And there is nothing that could wreck an Elliot Brood show for me, but One Hundred Dollars came pretty 'effin close. They were alright at first, a little intense but the lead singer's voice was excellent and the guitarist was entertaining, but it was just so.... well weird really. The band members didn't actually seem to like each other very much and the singer acted like she was on heroin. It was like she was starting into your soul, and not in a good way. We were creeped out. And by 'we' I mean we alllllll were creeped out. Every single person around me turned to their friends at least once and literally said "Man, she is creepin' me ouuuuut!" And it just. kept. going. It didn't get less creepy, it just got more so. For almost an hour. A creepy opener for almost an hour. not cool. Thank goodness I love the Brood boys or this might have been an all out wash. Close save.
So-awesome-you-want-to-take-them-home-in-your-pocket: Northcote opening for The Wooden Sky
the following night, on the COMPLETE opposite end of the spectrum... The Wooden Sky were great (though I had my first experience of actually feeling too close as I almost got hit with the guitar neck a few times...), but I had seen them a few times on youtube and was expecting said greatness. Still great, but expected. Northcote was phenomenal and unexpected. Singer Matt Goud is an adorably bearded ginger, who is as friendly as he is talented, and the guitarist and bassist/melodica-ist are equally good-natured and good-skilled. They breezed through a too-short [only because it was awesome, I'm sure it was actually regular-lengthed] set and finished off with a few older songs (one of which I got to play the tambourine for ;o), punctuating the whole thing with cheerful banter, gigantic smiles, and genuine mirth. Their music was beautiful, they were wonderful, and it made the whole evening just vibrate with happiness.
This is what an opening band should be. Heck this is what all bands should be. Thanks Northcote for undoing the momentary disillusionment created by One Hundred Dollars. And thanks for just being generally fantastic.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Lyrical Musings on Musical Classifications or "What it means to like country"
CBGB stands for Country, Bluegrass, Blues. Seriously now, who would have guessed that? I mean obviously if you're a CBGB fan you would almost certainly know it, but most people who have only a cursory knowledge of CBGBs as a former rock club in New York City (arguably THE former rock club in New York City), I think would be surprised to learn that name of the legendary local has nothing to do with Rock and everything to do with Country...
I used to be one of those people who likes "all kinds of music... except for country and rap." Which was complete bollocks because 1) People who say they like 'all kinds of music' are usually the same people who can't name three of their favourite bands, and I am most definitely NOT that kind of a people, 2) I actually do like some rap, particularly 80s era rap, and I'm not sure that this is the best example of 'rap' music as we define it nowadays, but The Fresh Prince of BelAir was one of the first songs I ever knew all of the lyrics to, and 3) I totally do like country. My teenage-self would hit me over the head with a two by four for even thinking of uttering that sentence, but it does not make it any less true. I actually love country music.
I don't really know when or how it happened, but it happened. Hard core. (Okay not THAT hard core, because I only like a very specific kind of country music (CBGB one might say...) and still have a very viscerally unpleasant reaction to pop country- you know, the my-girlfriends-stole-my-truck-and-ran-over-my-dog-on-the-way-to-go-marry-her-cousin kind of country... or the I-got-nothin-to-say-but-gee-don't-I-sound-real-perdy kind. no good. borderline offensively bad.) And this is what I love: banjo music. Johnny Cash music. washboards and wagon trains and tumbleweeds music. Hells my current favourite band (Elliott Brood of course) boasts two banjos a harmonica and a slide guitar and has more than one song about a wagon train (as does Graveyard Train, another current love- though they also play chains, washboard and stand-up bass...)
(I swear this will relate back in a moment so bare with me) I recently saw Dan Mangan in concert and have since fallen in love with his song Road Regrets, particularly one stanza which goes, and I quote: "and rob he likes his country tunes. it’s never been the lens that i see through. but i guess driving for a week or two puts words in your mouth. so find dodge and then get out of it. it’s about as country as i get"
It captures something about country that I have up till now had difficultly grasping- that it is a lens rather than just a sound. I may love the banjo and the hitting-objects-with-wooden-spoons, but its the storytelling that gets me, more specifically the way in which a country-song story is told (both lyrically and with the music...). Its the narrative and the music working together to create the imagery, to create the story, to create the world of the song... So despite my best intentions, it actually is the my-girlfriends-stole-my-truck-and-ran-over-my-dog-on-the-way-to-go-marry-her-cousin that I love. As long as its more about wagon trains and less about soap operas set in backwater Texas...
Sorry sixteen-year-old-me, I just can't help it- I loves me a good yarn.
Road Regrets by Dan Mangan
we’ll drive until the gas is gone. and then walk until our feet are torn. crawl until we feed the soil. film the whole thing. it’s all business in the left hand lane. drive there and then drive back again. escape can’t be the only way to escape. so i’ve gotten used to coffee sweats. still getting used to road regrets. hell, i took you up on all your threats to leave. it’s a shame, it’s a crying shame. and ain’t it always the way that takes you back to from where it is you came. and rob he likes his country tunes. it’s never been the lens that i see through. but i guess driving for a week or two puts words in your mouth. so find dodge and then get out of it. it’s about as country as i get. see you ain’t living until you’re living it. not dead ’till you die. but watch out for the paraphrase. for they will crown you then they will take your legs. see the cost is more than what you get paid. but do it anyway. it’s a shame, it’s a crying shame. and ain’t it always the way that takes you back to from where it is you came.
I used to be one of those people who likes "all kinds of music... except for country and rap." Which was complete bollocks because 1) People who say they like 'all kinds of music' are usually the same people who can't name three of their favourite bands, and I am most definitely NOT that kind of a people, 2) I actually do like some rap, particularly 80s era rap, and I'm not sure that this is the best example of 'rap' music as we define it nowadays, but The Fresh Prince of BelAir was one of the first songs I ever knew all of the lyrics to, and 3) I totally do like country. My teenage-self would hit me over the head with a two by four for even thinking of uttering that sentence, but it does not make it any less true. I actually love country music.
I don't really know when or how it happened, but it happened. Hard core. (Okay not THAT hard core, because I only like a very specific kind of country music (CBGB one might say...) and still have a very viscerally unpleasant reaction to pop country- you know, the my-girlfriends-stole-my-truck-and-ran-over-my-dog-on-the-way-to-go-marry-her-cousin kind of country... or the I-got-nothin-to-say-but-gee-don't-I-sound-real-perdy kind. no good. borderline offensively bad.) And this is what I love: banjo music. Johnny Cash music. washboards and wagon trains and tumbleweeds music. Hells my current favourite band (Elliott Brood of course) boasts two banjos a harmonica and a slide guitar and has more than one song about a wagon train (as does Graveyard Train, another current love- though they also play chains, washboard and stand-up bass...)
(I swear this will relate back in a moment so bare with me) I recently saw Dan Mangan in concert and have since fallen in love with his song Road Regrets, particularly one stanza which goes, and I quote: "and rob he likes his country tunes. it’s never been the lens that i see through. but i guess driving for a week or two puts words in your mouth. so find dodge and then get out of it. it’s about as country as i get"
though arguable not 'country at all' the video for Road Regrets has
numerous similarities to Elliott Brood's video for Second Son
It captures something about country that I have up till now had difficultly grasping- that it is a lens rather than just a sound. I may love the banjo and the hitting-objects-with-wooden-spoons, but its the storytelling that gets me, more specifically the way in which a country-song story is told (both lyrically and with the music...). Its the narrative and the music working together to create the imagery, to create the story, to create the world of the song... So despite my best intentions, it actually is the my-girlfriends-stole-my-truck-and-ran-over-my-dog-on-the-way-to-go-marry-her-cousin that I love. As long as its more about wagon trains and less about soap operas set in backwater Texas...
Sorry sixteen-year-old-me, I just can't help it- I loves me a good yarn.
Road Regrets by Dan Mangan
we’ll drive until the gas is gone. and then walk until our feet are torn. crawl until we feed the soil. film the whole thing. it’s all business in the left hand lane. drive there and then drive back again. escape can’t be the only way to escape. so i’ve gotten used to coffee sweats. still getting used to road regrets. hell, i took you up on all your threats to leave. it’s a shame, it’s a crying shame. and ain’t it always the way that takes you back to from where it is you came. and rob he likes his country tunes. it’s never been the lens that i see through. but i guess driving for a week or two puts words in your mouth. so find dodge and then get out of it. it’s about as country as i get. see you ain’t living until you’re living it. not dead ’till you die. but watch out for the paraphrase. for they will crown you then they will take your legs. see the cost is more than what you get paid. but do it anyway. it’s a shame, it’s a crying shame. and ain’t it always the way that takes you back to from where it is you came.
Friday, September 23, 2011
"We Love You Montreal!"
Sometimes you go to an event, for me usually a concert, and you get this weird feeling, this feeling that this is one of those things that you're going to tell your kids about. That you're going to get to say "I was there when..." This was one of those things: Aracde Fire and Karkwa, Free in Montreal.
Alright so I already love Arcade Fire, and I already love Karkwa... and this show was free. So it was a pretty easy sell. But I didn't really count on how easy a sell it would be... to everyone. I have never seen so many people at a show. They closed down Places des Arts. They re-routed the busses. They handed out free water. And it was so worth it.
The concert was great. The music was great, the sound quality was great, the video was great (I felt like I could see everything despite being behind three trees...). The vibe was great ( I feel like a dork saying 'vibe' but all alternatives sound even lamer... so the 'vibe' was great). Everyone was in such a great mood, people were singing and dancing together, talking with random strangers, being pleasant and happy... Of course the fact that it was all free didn't hurt, but I can't help but feel that having that many people being that happy in that small a space, makes everything seem just a little bit better. The air sweeter, the water taste better, everyone friendlier...
There was a moment right at the end where they released dozens of giant glowing balloons into the crowd, and there was a great gasp. An actual audible collective gasp. It was fantastic. and when I tell my kids about that show, its not the video or the lights or even the balloons that will get the spotlight- it will be the dancing, the singing, and the gasp. Hearing tens of thousands of people simultaneously gasping in delight. Perfect.
Alright so I already love Arcade Fire, and I already love Karkwa... and this show was free. So it was a pretty easy sell. But I didn't really count on how easy a sell it would be... to everyone. I have never seen so many people at a show. They closed down Places des Arts. They re-routed the busses. They handed out free water. And it was so worth it.
The concert was great. The music was great, the sound quality was great, the video was great (I felt like I could see everything despite being behind three trees...). The vibe was great ( I feel like a dork saying 'vibe' but all alternatives sound even lamer... so the 'vibe' was great). Everyone was in such a great mood, people were singing and dancing together, talking with random strangers, being pleasant and happy... Of course the fact that it was all free didn't hurt, but I can't help but feel that having that many people being that happy in that small a space, makes everything seem just a little bit better. The air sweeter, the water taste better, everyone friendlier...
There was a moment right at the end where they released dozens of giant glowing balloons into the crowd, and there was a great gasp. An actual audible collective gasp. It was fantastic. and when I tell my kids about that show, its not the video or the lights or even the balloons that will get the spotlight- it will be the dancing, the singing, and the gasp. Hearing tens of thousands of people simultaneously gasping in delight. Perfect.
Monday, September 19, 2011
You never grow too old to do the things you love, only too old to remember you love them OR A Love Letter to Moshing
As promised, 'I Love Concerts' part deux ;o)
So Thursday I had kind of a shitty day. Nothing huge or earth shattering, just not that wonderful either Just shitty. And I felt like I really needed to do something . ANYTHING. just something INVOLVED. Participatory. Fun. Concert.
Luckily a friend of mine had mentioned earlier that he was going to see the Planet Smashers so I asked him if I could tag along, he said sure, so I met up with him and some of his friends.
Now I should say right off that the Planet Smashers are a ska band- one of the few ska bands I actually ever listened too, but that I kinda forgot that ska is usually grouped in with punk... so I turn up and I am by far the brightest person there (in my rainbow shirt, neon green hoodie and bright turquoise toque...), but I have decided not to let anything stop me from having fun. I decide I do not care if I stick out like a sore thumb. And I don't! Apparently sometimes 'just deciding' something actually works! Score one for me!
I quickly discovered that the Real McKenzies were opening (bagpipes! punk music with bagpipes! so good) met the friends of friends (who were of the the super-excited-about-live-shows persuasion- my favourite kind of folk), got a beer, and settled in near the bar (right in the middle of the highway to the bar in fact). The constant flow of people, was nice though instead of annoying or frustrating! Each and every person who bumped into me said sorry or smiled in apology. Someone would catch your eye while you were bopping your head to the music and randomly give you a huge smile or even a high five just in support of your enjoyment of the music. It was great! I had almost forgotten how friendly people are at punk shows, how exactly the opposite of the image they portray...
But what I had forgotten even more was how much I love the pit. For Planet Smashers we all decided to head up to the front and it was less than a second from when they picked up their instruments to when everyone went crazy. Skanking, moshing, crowd surfing... By the end of their set I was soaked from head to toe (Josh commenting: "you're sweating like me!"), smelled of other people, had a throbbing nose from getting elbowed in the face, bruised arms and knees, a throat raw from singing, ears that were ringing and toes that felt like they had been crushed to a pulp. I had been shoved around, lifted off my feet, half-lost a shoe, fallen over and been picked back up again... and I could not have been happier. Good bye shitty day, hello awesomeness.
This is when I understand why people look at me funny when I try to explain why I love concerts. I mean, it doesn't really sound like much fun when its written down in black and white like that... I get it. I get that, for all intents and purposes, getting trapped in a swarm like that seems like something that should be terrifying (especially for someone like me who grew up pretty petrified of crowds) but it just isn't. It never has been. Its always seemed strangely comforting (may even have been one of the main factors in helping me get over that fear)! There is something to be said for losing yourself in a crowd- a rambunctious, enthusiastic, singing, dancing, strangely kind and polite crowd- all doing the same thing, all working as one, all there to have fun and support everyone else's fun-having.
I had forgotten how much I love mosh pits. I had forgotten how much I love being in a position of complete trust with everyone around you (weird that eh? being bashed around by strangers, but knowing that the second anything bad happens ten of those same people will making sure you're ok...). The jumping, the getting lifted up off your feet, the getting dizzy and lost, then the surprise at being suddenly face to face with a friend, or even just someone you shared a high five with after an earlier song... All of those things, but most of all, best of all, the falling down- because you barely have time to realize you're on the floor before someone is lifting you back up.
Life should be more like that, life should be like a mosh pit- where its crazy and exciting and silly and kind, but most of all where complete strangers pick you up when you need a hand. Where you feel safe- even when you get elbowed in the face, where you feel respected- even when someone crashes into you, where you feel love- even when everyone is shouting at the top of their lungs...
Life should be a mosh pit. I'm tellin' you, it really should...
So Thursday I had kind of a shitty day. Nothing huge or earth shattering, just not that wonderful either Just shitty. And I felt like I really needed to do something . ANYTHING. just something INVOLVED. Participatory. Fun. Concert.
Luckily a friend of mine had mentioned earlier that he was going to see the Planet Smashers so I asked him if I could tag along, he said sure, so I met up with him and some of his friends.
Now I should say right off that the Planet Smashers are a ska band- one of the few ska bands I actually ever listened too, but that I kinda forgot that ska is usually grouped in with punk... so I turn up and I am by far the brightest person there (in my rainbow shirt, neon green hoodie and bright turquoise toque...), but I have decided not to let anything stop me from having fun. I decide I do not care if I stick out like a sore thumb. And I don't! Apparently sometimes 'just deciding' something actually works! Score one for me!
I quickly discovered that the Real McKenzies were opening (bagpipes! punk music with bagpipes! so good) met the friends of friends (who were of the the super-excited-about-live-shows persuasion- my favourite kind of folk), got a beer, and settled in near the bar (right in the middle of the highway to the bar in fact). The constant flow of people, was nice though instead of annoying or frustrating! Each and every person who bumped into me said sorry or smiled in apology. Someone would catch your eye while you were bopping your head to the music and randomly give you a huge smile or even a high five just in support of your enjoyment of the music. It was great! I had almost forgotten how friendly people are at punk shows, how exactly the opposite of the image they portray...
But what I had forgotten even more was how much I love the pit. For Planet Smashers we all decided to head up to the front and it was less than a second from when they picked up their instruments to when everyone went crazy. Skanking, moshing, crowd surfing... By the end of their set I was soaked from head to toe (Josh commenting: "you're sweating like me!"), smelled of other people, had a throbbing nose from getting elbowed in the face, bruised arms and knees, a throat raw from singing, ears that were ringing and toes that felt like they had been crushed to a pulp. I had been shoved around, lifted off my feet, half-lost a shoe, fallen over and been picked back up again... and I could not have been happier. Good bye shitty day, hello awesomeness.
This is when I understand why people look at me funny when I try to explain why I love concerts. I mean, it doesn't really sound like much fun when its written down in black and white like that... I get it. I get that, for all intents and purposes, getting trapped in a swarm like that seems like something that should be terrifying (especially for someone like me who grew up pretty petrified of crowds) but it just isn't. It never has been. Its always seemed strangely comforting (may even have been one of the main factors in helping me get over that fear)! There is something to be said for losing yourself in a crowd- a rambunctious, enthusiastic, singing, dancing, strangely kind and polite crowd- all doing the same thing, all working as one, all there to have fun and support everyone else's fun-having.
I had forgotten how much I love mosh pits. I had forgotten how much I love being in a position of complete trust with everyone around you (weird that eh? being bashed around by strangers, but knowing that the second anything bad happens ten of those same people will making sure you're ok...). The jumping, the getting lifted up off your feet, the getting dizzy and lost, then the surprise at being suddenly face to face with a friend, or even just someone you shared a high five with after an earlier song... All of those things, but most of all, best of all, the falling down- because you barely have time to realize you're on the floor before someone is lifting you back up.
Life should be more like that, life should be like a mosh pit- where its crazy and exciting and silly and kind, but most of all where complete strangers pick you up when you need a hand. Where you feel safe- even when you get elbowed in the face, where you feel respected- even when someone crashes into you, where you feel love- even when everyone is shouting at the top of their lungs...
Life should be a mosh pit. I'm tellin' you, it really should...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"We have reached a crossroads...
...the crossroads between 'Lame' and 'Awesome.' The sign pointing that way says 'Lame.' The sign pointing this way says 'Awesome.' I know which way I'm going...!"
So my sister has been putting a plan into action the past few months- no not a secret plan to fight inflation- but a secret plan none the less. She has been conspiring to make me like all of her favourite bands. And it worked.
Tonight I went to see 'Said the Whale' and "Rah Rah'. Two of 'Krista's bands' that she has been putting on mixed cds since January. Two bands that I never knew existed a few months ago, and now feel like I've been listening to for forever. Even better she's gotten my roomate loving these bands as well! Always nice when you don't have to drag someone along, but can just tell them who is playing and they jump at the chance :o)
We had a great time. The show was awesome (see quote at the top. They weren't kiddin- they chose the awesome path) and of course it got me into the whole "Oh I love live music... live music... concerts... I love them so!" and the thinking, wondering about how there are people out there who possibly don't share that sentiment... I mean as I've said on many occasions- I get it academically speaking. I mean I don't like green peppers, they don't like concerts. Fine. There are reasons- your feet hurt, your voice goes hoarse, you're super tired the next day... (more on that in my next post!) but man is it worth it. Its so much more than just listening to music in a room with a bunch of people you don't know- the vibe (not to sounds lame but yes, the vibe) at a good concert is such a rush. Everyone having a great time, singing along, dancing and jumping... and seeing the band grinning from ear to ear ("The only thing I don't like about tonight is that my face hurts because I can't stop smiling! you guys are amazing!" observed Ben Worcester) having a fantastic time ("this is so short! I mean it went by so fast! ... that's a good thing by the way, it means we're having fun up here!" said Tyler Bancroft) just makes it even better. Like when we saw Karkwa at hillside and the lead singer could not stop giggling at the seventeen year olds rocking out in the front row- you could tell he thought it was hilarious. Or the look on the faces of Graveyard Train when our crowd started moshing and crazy-dancing- the next day they tweeted "Best show ever- we got the Canadians crowd surfing!" To know that its not just you, or even just the rest of the audience who is feeling that (again, please excuse the cheese) magical serendipitous feeling...
In other words its the whole experience. Sharing that time, that space, that experience with a roomful of other people you don't even know, but who you have at least one thing in common with... its golden. Simply golden.
So my sister has been putting a plan into action the past few months- no not a secret plan to fight inflation- but a secret plan none the less. She has been conspiring to make me like all of her favourite bands. And it worked.
Tonight I went to see 'Said the Whale' and "Rah Rah'. Two of 'Krista's bands' that she has been putting on mixed cds since January. Two bands that I never knew existed a few months ago, and now feel like I've been listening to for forever. Even better she's gotten my roomate loving these bands as well! Always nice when you don't have to drag someone along, but can just tell them who is playing and they jump at the chance :o)
We had a great time. The show was awesome (see quote at the top. They weren't kiddin- they chose the awesome path) and of course it got me into the whole "Oh I love live music... live music... concerts... I love them so!" and the thinking, wondering about how there are people out there who possibly don't share that sentiment... I mean as I've said on many occasions- I get it academically speaking. I mean I don't like green peppers, they don't like concerts. Fine. There are reasons- your feet hurt, your voice goes hoarse, you're super tired the next day... (more on that in my next post!) but man is it worth it. Its so much more than just listening to music in a room with a bunch of people you don't know- the vibe (not to sounds lame but yes, the vibe) at a good concert is such a rush. Everyone having a great time, singing along, dancing and jumping... and seeing the band grinning from ear to ear ("The only thing I don't like about tonight is that my face hurts because I can't stop smiling! you guys are amazing!" observed Ben Worcester) having a fantastic time ("this is so short! I mean it went by so fast! ... that's a good thing by the way, it means we're having fun up here!" said Tyler Bancroft) just makes it even better. Like when we saw Karkwa at hillside and the lead singer could not stop giggling at the seventeen year olds rocking out in the front row- you could tell he thought it was hilarious. Or the look on the faces of Graveyard Train when our crowd started moshing and crazy-dancing- the next day they tweeted "Best show ever- we got the Canadians crowd surfing!" To know that its not just you, or even just the rest of the audience who is feeling that (again, please excuse the cheese) magical serendipitous feeling...
In other words its the whole experience. Sharing that time, that space, that experience with a roomful of other people you don't even know, but who you have at least one thing in common with... its golden. Simply golden.
Camilo (the magician) by Said The Whale
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tiny Chipmunks, Tiny Chipmunks Inside of My Heart
Punch Brothers. Its the mandolin, its the banjo, its the low voices, their olde tymey suits and their charming ways that combine to make a magical wonderfullness that makes me so excited that I sprinted from one end of the grounds to the complete opposite corner (in the middle of their set) to purchase a CD, then ran all the way back, missing only one song ( Rye Whiskey is a perfect example of a song of theirs that elicits such a response from/in me...).
And its not just an idea, its not just a feeling, its an actual physical response. I was trying to explain to El what I meant by that and this was the best I could do
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Homes Dissapear
With the end of summer fast approaching (where did it GO?) I find myself getting preemptively nostalgic for all the fun-times, fun-friends, fun-weather, and fun-music I've been a part of this past few months (and mark my words it has been a lot of all of those things... living with El, visiting Montreal, going to the cottage, roller derby, hillside, working with some fantastically awesome people, working some fantastically awesome shows (how did I get paid to watch John Foggerty and have a front row seat at the Canada Day fireworks?!?), and enjoying one of the most beautifully warm and sunny summers I've ever experienced). Most of the time I'm in it ("You're so in it right now, you're just so in it...") but the past few days I've definitely had some of those moments where I can't help but think "I don't want it to all be over..."
Melodramatic sentiments aside, its gotten me thinking about how much I have really started to feel at home here, and what that means. Sure I think its a beautiful city, I love biking along the trails and walking along the paths. I love being close enough to Quebec to walk over from work and bike home at 2am and for French to sound as familiar as English. I love the weather and the green and the rivers... I love so many physical things about where I live, but so much of what has made me feel like I live here has been ephemeral- people, events, experiences. Much like in University, you construct a place out of everything it means to you, and when you try to hold on to that, or when you try to go back, its just not the same because the remnants of the physical things are all that is left. Everything changes around you (and though you may not feel like you're changing too, inevitably you are) and one day you wake up to discover that its all different- the place you thought you were building just doesn't exist any more.
A few days ago I happened upon the song False Creek Change by Said the Whale and was transfixed by how well it captures just this kind of thing- the inevitability:
False Creek changed in '86
the year Expo exploited her shore
It's been twenty two years laying down bricks
and there's no room for me here any more, any more
there's no room for me here anymore
I made my mark in '84
Born to the month of June
My home at the heart of Charleson Park
I never thought I'd be leaving so soon, so soon
Never thought I'd be leaving so soon
I've watched The Walls of Yaletown
growing up over my mountain view
My old horizon under the clouds
I'll be sad when I'm thinking of you
I'll be sad when I'm thinking of you
Now all the old men and their boats have gone
and I will be leaving too
My little red roof by the old duck pond
I'll be saying farewell to you
I'll be saying farewell to you
Sometimes its sad, sometimes it means that its time for you to go (sorry Halifax), but more often its a matter of realizing that you've already gone, more precisely its already gone ("It never occurred to me to think of space as the thing that was moving...") that it can never really exist again. It seems sad and final and depressing, but the thing is that you can't really miss it because it was never a real thing to start with. And if it was never really a real thing to start with the fact that it can never again be a real thing really makes no difference, right? Too much?
Alls I'm saying is that instead of spending my time being sad that the summer is ending and all of my ephemeral summer experiences are slowly fading away, I am going to spend my time enjoying them. Savoring every last second. Because they're not really the last seconds at all- they're just the seconds at the middle of the beginning- or at worst at the beginning of the middle...
Melodramatic sentiments aside, its gotten me thinking about how much I have really started to feel at home here, and what that means. Sure I think its a beautiful city, I love biking along the trails and walking along the paths. I love being close enough to Quebec to walk over from work and bike home at 2am and for French to sound as familiar as English. I love the weather and the green and the rivers... I love so many physical things about where I live, but so much of what has made me feel like I live here has been ephemeral- people, events, experiences. Much like in University, you construct a place out of everything it means to you, and when you try to hold on to that, or when you try to go back, its just not the same because the remnants of the physical things are all that is left. Everything changes around you (and though you may not feel like you're changing too, inevitably you are) and one day you wake up to discover that its all different- the place you thought you were building just doesn't exist any more.
A few days ago I happened upon the song False Creek Change by Said the Whale and was transfixed by how well it captures just this kind of thing- the inevitability:
False Creek changed in '86
the year Expo exploited her shore
It's been twenty two years laying down bricks
and there's no room for me here any more, any more
there's no room for me here anymore
I made my mark in '84
Born to the month of June
My home at the heart of Charleson Park
I never thought I'd be leaving so soon, so soon
Never thought I'd be leaving so soon
I've watched The Walls of Yaletown
growing up over my mountain view
My old horizon under the clouds
I'll be sad when I'm thinking of you
I'll be sad when I'm thinking of you
Now all the old men and their boats have gone
and I will be leaving too
My little red roof by the old duck pond
I'll be saying farewell to you
I'll be saying farewell to you
Sometimes its sad, sometimes it means that its time for you to go (sorry Halifax), but more often its a matter of realizing that you've already gone, more precisely its already gone ("It never occurred to me to think of space as the thing that was moving...") that it can never really exist again. It seems sad and final and depressing, but the thing is that you can't really miss it because it was never a real thing to start with. And if it was never really a real thing to start with the fact that it can never again be a real thing really makes no difference, right? Too much?
Alls I'm saying is that instead of spending my time being sad that the summer is ending and all of my ephemeral summer experiences are slowly fading away, I am going to spend my time enjoying them. Savoring every last second. Because they're not really the last seconds at all- they're just the seconds at the middle of the beginning- or at worst at the beginning of the middle...
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Classifications of Systems
My sister once asked me how I would classify (aka organize) music if I could do it exactly the way I wanted... At the time I said by imaginary environments (like Elliot Brood would go in the 'saloon town' category and 'Portland' would expand to include all bands that sound like they should live near The Shins or The Decemberists...). I would still most certainly keep that as a type of classification, but I would also add another: weather.
Today was grey and cloudy- not quite raining, just that kind of sitting-in-a-mopey-cloud kind of day that makes you feel melancholia (though not sad) and spacey (though not slow) and (for me at least) buzzy with creativity... the kind of weather that always makes me want to listen to music and paint. Today my band of choice was The Decemberists. All of The Decemberists. Every CD, every EP, all in a row, all day long. (Even The Tain, a thirteen minute epic of story-telling genius). And it was awesome.
[sidebar: I absolutely love listening to The Decemberists and so much of that is because they always make me feel like making things- painting, drawing, sewing, building... and in such a way that I actually do make things! Today it was a big painting of a whale with a living room in its belly. Tomorrow? Who knows- but its a great feeling to have and even better to know all I have to do to bring it on is whip out a certain discography...]
So in the category of cloudy (but not rainy), cool (but not cold), and laid-back (but not sluggish) kin-o-days I put forth The Decemberists, entry number one. Add to the list as you see fit.
Today was grey and cloudy- not quite raining, just that kind of sitting-in-a-mopey-cloud kind of day that makes you feel melancholia (though not sad) and spacey (though not slow) and (for me at least) buzzy with creativity... the kind of weather that always makes me want to listen to music and paint. Today my band of choice was The Decemberists. All of The Decemberists. Every CD, every EP, all in a row, all day long. (Even The Tain, a thirteen minute epic of story-telling genius). And it was awesome.
[sidebar: I absolutely love listening to The Decemberists and so much of that is because they always make me feel like making things- painting, drawing, sewing, building... and in such a way that I actually do make things! Today it was a big painting of a whale with a living room in its belly. Tomorrow? Who knows- but its a great feeling to have and even better to know all I have to do to bring it on is whip out a certain discography...]
So in the category of cloudy (but not rainy), cool (but not cold), and laid-back (but not sluggish) kin-o-days I put forth The Decemberists, entry number one. Add to the list as you see fit.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Adorable Love Songs Make Adorable Ukulele Songs
So I've recently taken up the ukulele- and by "taken up" I mean I can play two songs on it, one of which I can only sometimes sing and play at the same time... None the less, I have devoted some actual time to it, and have been rather pleased with the results. Not only does Uke let you play and sing simultaneously (this is rather difficult on a melodica...) it is also small (aka very portable), plucky (aka always super happy sounding), and adorable (aka ADORABLE). Which makes it perfect for playing adorable songs...
Now my sister and I have had a few lengthy conversations about adorable love songs and their innate awesomeness, but its something that is surprisingly difficult to explain to some people... I don't mean cute like flying bunnies with pink bonnets on, I mean adorable. Okay, that didn't help explain at all. I may have found the root of my problem... so:
I think the key here is the combination of charming and naive. One might even say charmingly naive... its not about being cutesy, or cute in pretty much any way, but about being earnest in a way that is not annoying but is still coming from such a place of absolute honesty (naivite) that you can't help but smile... In songs this also usually comes across in the music- simple melodies, plucky happy sounding instruments, joyful whistling or 'doo doo doo' ing, likely some hand claps...
Alright alright, maybe that is not really helping at all... Just watch this. This is what I mean, this is adorable...
I have found my next song to whistle while I work.... and learn to play on my ukulale
Now my sister and I have had a few lengthy conversations about adorable love songs and their innate awesomeness, but its something that is surprisingly difficult to explain to some people... I don't mean cute like flying bunnies with pink bonnets on, I mean adorable. Okay, that didn't help explain at all. I may have found the root of my problem... so:
adjective /əˈdôrəbəl/
Inspiring great affection; delightful; charming. Behaving in a child-like or naive way.I think the key here is the combination of charming and naive. One might even say charmingly naive... its not about being cutesy, or cute in pretty much any way, but about being earnest in a way that is not annoying but is still coming from such a place of absolute honesty (naivite) that you can't help but smile... In songs this also usually comes across in the music- simple melodies, plucky happy sounding instruments, joyful whistling or 'doo doo doo' ing, likely some hand claps...
Alright alright, maybe that is not really helping at all... Just watch this. This is what I mean, this is adorable...
I have found my next song to whistle while I work.... and learn to play on my ukulale
Monday, July 25, 2011
Death Country, Chains, and Group Wonderment
I am in love.
Not with a person. That too normal, too plain. I am in love with six (or it it seven?) persons- though I suppose perhaps more accurately I am in love with their band...
I tend to get a little excited about music (understatement? yes. super-excited? more accurate). If you know me at all (or have, like, ever read this blog) you would not be at all surprised by that statement. You might, however, be surprised to know that, of my experiences of falling in love with bands, the sudden, immediate, 'holy crap who the hell is this?' ones are surprisingly few. Now I suppose this makes sense as you don't often go to see a band live unless you've at least hear of them, but the magic of music festivals lies exactly in creating such opportunities for discovery and love-falling-in. In seeing bands perform whom you've never heard of and would otherwise have never been exposed to. I've written before about the first time I saw Arcade Fire, the 'ummmmm who is this? because they kind of freakin rock... ' vibe and how that was the first and only time I've ever seen that happen to a whole field-full of people at exactly the same time... well that story must now be amended, for I have once again been privileged to be a part of a room-full (or in this case tent-full) of people simultaneously falling in love with a band. And that band is Graveyard Train.
They classify themselves as 'horror-country' (strikingly similar to the self-moniker of 'death-country' used by one of my all-time favourites Elliot Brood) and are a crazy-awesome mix of a tumble-weed-covered-frontier-town-saloon crossed with chain-gang-running-from-a-pack-of-zombies. K and I spent the weekend discussing the awesomeness of their man-choir voices and their amazing choice of instruments (steel guitar, slide guitar, banjo, stand-up bass and chains. yes chains. played with a hammer.) and going to see them as many times as possible (three times in three days was almost not enough!) but the part that stands out most for me was the first twenty seconds of the first song I ever heard them play.
At Hillside there are main-stage and side-stage performances, but there are also workshops where bands who have never met, and often never even heard of each other, get together and jam. The regular performances are usually pretty durn awesome, but the jam sessions are where the unexpected, unprecedented, and totally magical become common place. We had just gone to see Karkwa who were amaaaazing (and will soon have their whole own blogpost I'm sure...) and they were playing a workshop later on that evening in one of the tents, so we headed on over. It turned out they were going to be jamming with a band from Australia (Australian meets Quebequois was to be a theme for the weekend) who looked like they had just stepped off of a wagon train. I was already pretty excited when I saw the banjo and the steel guitar, but nothing could have prepared me for the music...
They came on stage. They picked up their instruments ("Is that guy holding a chain!?!" "Which guy?" "The one in the dirty tank-top, suspenders, and work-pant cut-offs..."). The lead singer tipped his hat. They started singing. Holy. Shit.
We were hit by the wall of sound of five men (manly men. dirty men. men men) stretched out in a line across the stage, belting out harmonies the likes of which have not seen the light of day since 1879. We stood stunned. The whole tent stood stunned. There was a stunned silence, literally. (Well not quite literally as there was the music... but other than the music there was a stunned silence.) Eight seconds, nine seconds... I turned to K, she was looking back at me; "Who the fuck are these guys!?!" We looked around. Everyone looked around. We were all turning to the side and saying the exact same thing...
Twelve seconds... a murmur sweeps the tent...
Fifteen seconds... everyone's head starts to move up and down. shoulders shrugging in rhythm...
Eighteen seconds... feet tapping, hands clapping...
Twenty seconds... I am in love.
It got even better as the song went on. It got even better with each song. Karkwa joined in and it got even better and better. After they were finished I speed-walked to the merch tent and straight up to the table, picked up their CD and handed it to the girl behind the counter: "I need this one." I was sad when it was over, but super excited that I would get to watch them again the next day, and again the day after that... Even more excited when the same experience was repeated two more times, with the slight modification of a growing crowd at the front of those of us already-converted, and a diminishing crowd of first-timers sitting in-behind, wondering at why we were all so excited (until they experienced their own first-twenty-seconds and joined the ranks of the initiated).
Its a pretty magical thing to be a part of an amazing concert and even more so one where so many people are seeing a band for the first time and falling in love with them. Scratch that, its DAMN FINE. It a damn fine thing to have such a wonderful group experience- and to get to have it again and again three days in a row.
Thank you Hillside. Thank you Graveyard Train. Thank you tent-people with whom I got to share this! Now disperse and spread the word... music is a wonderful thing.
Not with a person. That too normal, too plain. I am in love with six (or it it seven?) persons- though I suppose perhaps more accurately I am in love with their band...
I tend to get a little excited about music (understatement? yes. super-excited? more accurate). If you know me at all (or have, like, ever read this blog) you would not be at all surprised by that statement. You might, however, be surprised to know that, of my experiences of falling in love with bands, the sudden, immediate, 'holy crap who the hell is this?' ones are surprisingly few. Now I suppose this makes sense as you don't often go to see a band live unless you've at least hear of them, but the magic of music festivals lies exactly in creating such opportunities for discovery and love-falling-in. In seeing bands perform whom you've never heard of and would otherwise have never been exposed to. I've written before about the first time I saw Arcade Fire, the 'ummmmm who is this? because they kind of freakin rock... ' vibe and how that was the first and only time I've ever seen that happen to a whole field-full of people at exactly the same time... well that story must now be amended, for I have once again been privileged to be a part of a room-full (or in this case tent-full) of people simultaneously falling in love with a band. And that band is Graveyard Train.
They classify themselves as 'horror-country' (strikingly similar to the self-moniker of 'death-country' used by one of my all-time favourites Elliot Brood) and are a crazy-awesome mix of a tumble-weed-covered-frontier-town-saloon crossed with chain-gang-running-from-a-pack-of-zombies. K and I spent the weekend discussing the awesomeness of their man-choir voices and their amazing choice of instruments (steel guitar, slide guitar, banjo, stand-up bass and chains. yes chains. played with a hammer.) and going to see them as many times as possible (three times in three days was almost not enough!) but the part that stands out most for me was the first twenty seconds of the first song I ever heard them play.
At Hillside there are main-stage and side-stage performances, but there are also workshops where bands who have never met, and often never even heard of each other, get together and jam. The regular performances are usually pretty durn awesome, but the jam sessions are where the unexpected, unprecedented, and totally magical become common place. We had just gone to see Karkwa who were amaaaazing (and will soon have their whole own blogpost I'm sure...) and they were playing a workshop later on that evening in one of the tents, so we headed on over. It turned out they were going to be jamming with a band from Australia (Australian meets Quebequois was to be a theme for the weekend) who looked like they had just stepped off of a wagon train. I was already pretty excited when I saw the banjo and the steel guitar, but nothing could have prepared me for the music...
They came on stage. They picked up their instruments ("Is that guy holding a chain!?!" "Which guy?" "The one in the dirty tank-top, suspenders, and work-pant cut-offs..."). The lead singer tipped his hat. They started singing. Holy. Shit.
We were hit by the wall of sound of five men (manly men. dirty men. men men) stretched out in a line across the stage, belting out harmonies the likes of which have not seen the light of day since 1879. We stood stunned. The whole tent stood stunned. There was a stunned silence, literally. (Well not quite literally as there was the music... but other than the music there was a stunned silence.) Eight seconds, nine seconds... I turned to K, she was looking back at me; "Who the fuck are these guys!?!" We looked around. Everyone looked around. We were all turning to the side and saying the exact same thing...
Twelve seconds... a murmur sweeps the tent...
Fifteen seconds... everyone's head starts to move up and down. shoulders shrugging in rhythm...
Eighteen seconds... feet tapping, hands clapping...
Twenty seconds... I am in love.
It got even better as the song went on. It got even better with each song. Karkwa joined in and it got even better and better. After they were finished I speed-walked to the merch tent and straight up to the table, picked up their CD and handed it to the girl behind the counter: "I need this one." I was sad when it was over, but super excited that I would get to watch them again the next day, and again the day after that... Even more excited when the same experience was repeated two more times, with the slight modification of a growing crowd at the front of those of us already-converted, and a diminishing crowd of first-timers sitting in-behind, wondering at why we were all so excited (until they experienced their own first-twenty-seconds and joined the ranks of the initiated).
Its a pretty magical thing to be a part of an amazing concert and even more so one where so many people are seeing a band for the first time and falling in love with them. Scratch that, its DAMN FINE. It a damn fine thing to have such a wonderful group experience- and to get to have it again and again three days in a row.
Thank you Hillside. Thank you Graveyard Train. Thank you tent-people with whom I got to share this! Now disperse and spread the word... music is a wonderful thing.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The Accidental Loving of Something Well Known Somewhere Else
I'm not hipster (ok I do have a few pairs of neon nylons and a collection of fake Raybans but really, who doesn't?) but I'm not the biggest fan of popular music. Sure I like Lady Gaga (again, who doesn't?), but most of the bands I absolutely love are either too small/local to be well known or were big decades ago (some decades before I was born...). I could go on for years and years about the fantastic amazingness of Elliot Brood, The Decemberists, Old Man Leudecke, CCR, Queen, or Zeus, but nine times out of ten the person I'm talking to has either never heard of them, or has the vague sense that their 'dad used to listen to that band when he was a teenager.' This doesn't bother me, in fact I kind of enjoy having these bands kind of to myself (though I much more enjoy introducing someone to one of them and having it become one of their favourite bands...!) but I even more enjoy having the experience of finding out that one of my bands is actually a favourite of millions of other people- just not the people I'm usually around!
I had two such experiences this week:
I am currently working on a show that has all Canadian music playing right up until it starts. Its not the same music every day, and I am quite the fan of Canadian music, so I tend to be able to sing along with most of the songs. The other day one came on that I loved right from the first or second bar. It took many 'yes reeeeeally's from my friend to convince me that, not only had he also no idea at all who it was, but that they were in fact singing in French. There are a few french/Quebecquois band I like (Couer de Pirate not least amongst them!) but this band sounded like an anglophone indie band, one I not only liked, but liked enough that I was completely confused as to why I did not already own all of their music.
With some help from the fancy iphone app of another friend we were able to ascertain that this band was in fact Karkwa... who won the Polaris Prize last year. Who are one of the top indie bands in Quebec. Who played in Paris with the Arcade Fire and out-reviewed them... even though none of the three of us had ever heard them, there were thousands of people out there in the world who already adored them. I love it when that happens! When you happen upon a new band and find that they're only unknown where you are, that somewhere else they're huge, or at least well enough known and respected to win the biggest music prize in Canada... I got their album online. I am listening to it right now. For the fourth straight time in a row. So new favourite band, check.
The second such experience was having the chance to see John Fogerty perform live. I was talking to a co-worker just as he got started and she actually said 'yeah, I don't know who that is... I mean maybe I would recognize some of the songs if I heard them..." !?! for serious? ok, ok, I've spent most of my life trying to explain to people my age why CCR is so incredibly awesome, and how I wouldn't even be very sad to miss other music if they were the only band I could ever listen to for the rest of my life... but it still floors me when someone doesn't know that they wrote 'Proud Mary' (The first time I heard the Tina Turner version I literally cringed. I mean visibly. I shuddered. I've gotten used to it- kinda- over time, but I still hear Fogerty singing over Tina every time...) or Suzie Q. Who doesn't know Suzie Q? And Born on the Bayou? Apparently lots of people don't. But none of them were rockin' out at bluesfest yesterday.
I didn't get to see too much of the show (though I got to hear all of it!) but the part I did spend out in the crowd was amazing. As a kid listening to CCR I never thought that I would actually get to see them (well one of them anyways) perform live. Like Queen or ABBA I just always kind of assumed that they were long dead and gone just like the rest of my growing-up bands (though having said that I did get to watch an hour long Paul McCartney sound check a few years back and had a similar 'this is soooo weird' feeling). So getting to, not only watch and listen to Fogerty perform, but be surrounded by truckloads of people who were just as into it, just as excited about it, just as 'Oh my god, Its John Fogerty!!!' as I was was pretty 'effin awesome.
Sometimes its nice to feel like you like bands that are just yours... but sometimes its nice to really feel like you're tapping into something that's already there, sharing the awesomeness of the music with an already existing community of like-minded and like-excited folk. This week I've been diggin' that second kind of sometimes.
I had two such experiences this week:
I am currently working on a show that has all Canadian music playing right up until it starts. Its not the same music every day, and I am quite the fan of Canadian music, so I tend to be able to sing along with most of the songs. The other day one came on that I loved right from the first or second bar. It took many 'yes reeeeeally's from my friend to convince me that, not only had he also no idea at all who it was, but that they were in fact singing in French. There are a few french/Quebecquois band I like (Couer de Pirate not least amongst them!) but this band sounded like an anglophone indie band, one I not only liked, but liked enough that I was completely confused as to why I did not already own all of their music.
With some help from the fancy iphone app of another friend we were able to ascertain that this band was in fact Karkwa... who won the Polaris Prize last year. Who are one of the top indie bands in Quebec. Who played in Paris with the Arcade Fire and out-reviewed them... even though none of the three of us had ever heard them, there were thousands of people out there in the world who already adored them. I love it when that happens! When you happen upon a new band and find that they're only unknown where you are, that somewhere else they're huge, or at least well enough known and respected to win the biggest music prize in Canada... I got their album online. I am listening to it right now. For the fourth straight time in a row. So new favourite band, check.
The second such experience was having the chance to see John Fogerty perform live. I was talking to a co-worker just as he got started and she actually said 'yeah, I don't know who that is... I mean maybe I would recognize some of the songs if I heard them..." !?! for serious? ok, ok, I've spent most of my life trying to explain to people my age why CCR is so incredibly awesome, and how I wouldn't even be very sad to miss other music if they were the only band I could ever listen to for the rest of my life... but it still floors me when someone doesn't know that they wrote 'Proud Mary' (The first time I heard the Tina Turner version I literally cringed. I mean visibly. I shuddered. I've gotten used to it- kinda- over time, but I still hear Fogerty singing over Tina every time...) or Suzie Q. Who doesn't know Suzie Q? And Born on the Bayou? Apparently lots of people don't. But none of them were rockin' out at bluesfest yesterday.
I didn't get to see too much of the show (though I got to hear all of it!) but the part I did spend out in the crowd was amazing. As a kid listening to CCR I never thought that I would actually get to see them (well one of them anyways) perform live. Like Queen or ABBA I just always kind of assumed that they were long dead and gone just like the rest of my growing-up bands (though having said that I did get to watch an hour long Paul McCartney sound check a few years back and had a similar 'this is soooo weird' feeling). So getting to, not only watch and listen to Fogerty perform, but be surrounded by truckloads of people who were just as into it, just as excited about it, just as 'Oh my god, Its John Fogerty!!!' as I was was pretty 'effin awesome.
Sometimes its nice to feel like you like bands that are just yours... but sometimes its nice to really feel like you're tapping into something that's already there, sharing the awesomeness of the music with an already existing community of like-minded and like-excited folk. This week I've been diggin' that second kind of sometimes.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Its OK to Not Like Things
I recently (aka like an hour ago) stumbled upon a very short and very silly song that perfectly sums up something I struggled with for a loooong time. No, not anything so serious as depression or anorexia or something, I'm talking about not-liking-things.
This may sound like a weird problem to have, but throughout my childhood I felt compelled to at least sorta like pretty much everything I came across. From music to movies to people. Doesn't sound so bad, but the problem is that when you like everything its hard to tell what you actually like... what you love, whats really important to you. And that's kinda, well, important!
I don't remember exactly when it happened, but at some point during high school I started to be ok with disliking things, and a whole new world opened up to me. No longer did I have to force myself to like chemistry class (all other sciences are so much better!) or be friends with the annoying guy from drama (just because other friends are friends with him... whatever, he was annoying!) or to enjoy the first half of Catcher in the Rye (I liked the second half, but man, first half Holden is an arsehole!!!)! I started to have opinions more often, I started to get into friendly arguments with people who disagreed with me, and best of all I developed a few arch nemesises (nemesi?)- and yes they do exist in real life and they are just as entertaining as in comics ;o)
Its not even just the disliking that makes things more fun/better/awesomer its loving disliking them- like The Empire Strikes Back, green peppers, and Vin Diesel (to name a few)! It gives me the opportunity to argue with people without hurting anyone's feelings or making them actually upset! Arguing sans consequence. Mostly anyways. the trick is to stay away from hating things, and only let yourself go so far as to have a strong strong dislike. That way you don't let the evil in, only the fun!
See for yourself how much fun it can be and not-like something today!
Listen to 'Its OK to not like things!' Though I should warn you, its terribly addictive...
This may sound like a weird problem to have, but throughout my childhood I felt compelled to at least sorta like pretty much everything I came across. From music to movies to people. Doesn't sound so bad, but the problem is that when you like everything its hard to tell what you actually like... what you love, whats really important to you. And that's kinda, well, important!
I don't remember exactly when it happened, but at some point during high school I started to be ok with disliking things, and a whole new world opened up to me. No longer did I have to force myself to like chemistry class (all other sciences are so much better!) or be friends with the annoying guy from drama (just because other friends are friends with him... whatever, he was annoying!) or to enjoy the first half of Catcher in the Rye (I liked the second half, but man, first half Holden is an arsehole!!!)! I started to have opinions more often, I started to get into friendly arguments with people who disagreed with me, and best of all I developed a few arch nemesises (nemesi?)- and yes they do exist in real life and they are just as entertaining as in comics ;o)
Its not even just the disliking that makes things more fun/better/awesomer its loving disliking them- like The Empire Strikes Back, green peppers, and Vin Diesel (to name a few)! It gives me the opportunity to argue with people without hurting anyone's feelings or making them actually upset! Arguing sans consequence. Mostly anyways. the trick is to stay away from hating things, and only let yourself go so far as to have a strong strong dislike. That way you don't let the evil in, only the fun!
See for yourself how much fun it can be and not-like something today!
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