...but really I just wanted to write "Man I love the Avett Brothers!!!"
Have you ever discovered a band only to somehow completely and utterly forget about them? It happens to me more often than I would like to admit (I rediscovered Paper Lions on my ipod only last week!) and it happened with The Avett Brothers just this afternoon.
I remember the first time I heard this song; I was going through a pretty crappy time. I hated living in the city, I and I was really really missing my family and the line "Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name" made me cry like a baby.
Likewise I felt like I was always trying to pretend that everything was fine, and it completely freaked me out that everyone seemed to think I was totally alright while I was falling apart inside. The line in Head Full of Doubt... "There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light... and I'm frightened by those who don't see it" seemed to describe exactly how I was feeling in a way that somehow didn't make it feel worse. Also the video is absolutely beautiful.
Looking back on those two songs now seems strange, they bring back those memories, but also somehow mean something completely different to me now. "Decide what to be and go be it." Apparently I was listening more closely than I thought...
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Robots!Everywhere!! Everywhere.
I've always been interested in the impact a venue/an audience/a setting has on a performance. The Kee To Bala is one of my all time favourite venues, though the Black Sheep in Wakefield is quickly catching up, and Ottawa's Raw Sugar makes every show feel like its in someone's living room... I could literally go on for pages and pages about the highs and lows of various concert-houses across the country, but today I have for you an interesting story, a case study if you will of one band, two venues. Robots!EVERYWHERE!!, everywhere.
On Family Day, instead of visiting with my actual family, I headed over to Ottawa's Gem of a pub, The Manx, to see Phil perform an acoustic set with Larissa on Glockenspiel, and my good friend Tall Josh Pruner on guitar. Phil's usual gig involves a lot of drum machine, wonderfully messy guitar, and homage to B.A. Johnson- there was of course the presence of B.A.'s ghost in the form of a brilliant cover of 'My Heart is a Blinking Nintendo' but overall in the cozy basement pub, was more of a low key affair. It was great to hear Phil's always-entertaining lyrics, and watch the three friends just have fun Playing Songs. I have always been a fan of loud punk music, but as I've gotten older I've also developed a taste for checking out the acoustic versions of the songs, taking a moment to really hear the lyrics in their entirely before hearing their quicker and messier cousins. I'm a lyrics gal, and understanding the words the singer is singing always makes me like the song more. With such gems as "I like talking to strippers like I'm a hockey player" Robots!EVERYWHERE!! is certainly no exception.
Last night, however, I caught Robots!EVERYWHERE!! in his natural habitat, as it were: Maverick's. You may remember me mentioning Maverick's as the worst venue in Ottawa (an exaggeration, I'm sure, but not a very far stretch) but I will admit that some bands just belong there. Not belong in that they are horrible, and so belong in a horrible venue- rather the opposite! They seem to fit there in a way that makes the venue itself better, that they make Maverick's somehow make sense. Cuff the Duke does that in a way that baffles and amazes me every time, and Robots!EVERYWHERE!! did a fantastic job of the same type.
I enjoyed the acoustic show, but this is clearly where you should experience Robots!EVERYWHERE!! In his full B.A. Johnson-style glory Phil sped through song after hilarious song (accompanied by enthusiastic audience sing-a-longs), performed numerous costume changes (continuously egged on by the self-same audience to "take it off!!!"), and played several super-speed encores.
Sometimes when you see a band do an acoustic set its like a while different group, it sounds nothing like them and you come away either disappointed, or wishing they always played acoustic. Other times you just wonder who the hell this is, and how they are even remotely related to their normal incarnation. With Robots!EVERYWHERE!! it was neither of these- Phil fit the music to the venue and to the audience without sacrificing anything of the Robots!EVERYWHERE!! experience.
Excellent job Sir, keep up the fine work.
-----
If you are a fan of entertainingly hilarious pop-indie-punk you should definitely check out Robots!EVERYWHERE!! for free!
On Family Day, instead of visiting with my actual family, I headed over to Ottawa's Gem of a pub, The Manx, to see Phil perform an acoustic set with Larissa on Glockenspiel, and my good friend Tall Josh Pruner on guitar. Phil's usual gig involves a lot of drum machine, wonderfully messy guitar, and homage to B.A. Johnson- there was of course the presence of B.A.'s ghost in the form of a brilliant cover of 'My Heart is a Blinking Nintendo' but overall in the cozy basement pub, was more of a low key affair. It was great to hear Phil's always-entertaining lyrics, and watch the three friends just have fun Playing Songs. I have always been a fan of loud punk music, but as I've gotten older I've also developed a taste for checking out the acoustic versions of the songs, taking a moment to really hear the lyrics in their entirely before hearing their quicker and messier cousins. I'm a lyrics gal, and understanding the words the singer is singing always makes me like the song more. With such gems as "I like talking to strippers like I'm a hockey player" Robots!EVERYWHERE!! is certainly no exception.
Last night, however, I caught Robots!EVERYWHERE!! in his natural habitat, as it were: Maverick's. You may remember me mentioning Maverick's as the worst venue in Ottawa (an exaggeration, I'm sure, but not a very far stretch) but I will admit that some bands just belong there. Not belong in that they are horrible, and so belong in a horrible venue- rather the opposite! They seem to fit there in a way that makes the venue itself better, that they make Maverick's somehow make sense. Cuff the Duke does that in a way that baffles and amazes me every time, and Robots!EVERYWHERE!! did a fantastic job of the same type.
I enjoyed the acoustic show, but this is clearly where you should experience Robots!EVERYWHERE!! In his full B.A. Johnson-style glory Phil sped through song after hilarious song (accompanied by enthusiastic audience sing-a-longs), performed numerous costume changes (continuously egged on by the self-same audience to "take it off!!!"), and played several super-speed encores.
Sometimes when you see a band do an acoustic set its like a while different group, it sounds nothing like them and you come away either disappointed, or wishing they always played acoustic. Other times you just wonder who the hell this is, and how they are even remotely related to their normal incarnation. With Robots!EVERYWHERE!! it was neither of these- Phil fit the music to the venue and to the audience without sacrificing anything of the Robots!EVERYWHERE!! experience.
Excellent job Sir, keep up the fine work.
-----
If you are a fan of entertainingly hilarious pop-indie-punk you should definitely check out Robots!EVERYWHERE!! for free!
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Sammy Reigns Supreme
I'm sure you've had this happen to you:
You have a memory of something being amazing, of that thing being the absolute best version of itself that it possibly could have been. Then you get the chance to experience it again-- You know it can't possibly be as good, that you must have been over-exaggerating its greatness in your mind, and so you prepare yourself to be disappointed- well maybe not disappointed, but maybe you lower your expectations so as to avoid disappointment. Then, THEN, you get to experience it and you think to yourself "What the hell was I on? This thing is just as freakin amazing as I remember it being!" For some that thing might be an old movie, it might be grandma's chocolate cake, or a roller coaster you used to ride as a kid...
For me that thing is seeing Sam Roberts Band live in concert.
I love Sam Roberts. Not in some creepy I-want-to-have-his-babies kind of way, just in the good old fashioned band-crush I-want-to-watch-him-sing-all-the-time-forever kind of way. The first time I saw Sam Roberts band perform was the moment I truly fell in love with music. It was at The Kee to Bala, up near my cottage and it was the summer after We Were Born in a Flame had just come out. I hadn't liked "Brother Down" at all- I thought "Don't Walk Away Eileen was pretty good - but mostly I just loved the idea of going to see a concert up at the cottage (in the same venue my uncles had gone to see shows when they were teenagers...) and Sam Roberts was the only act playing who I had vaguely heard of, so I convinced my best friend to go with me.
Walking into The Kee was the first time I ever felt at home in a concert venue. Everyone was wearing flip flops and sweatpants, their hair still wet from swimming or stuffed under a hat so they didn't have to worry about washing it. When the opener came on stage (Danny Michel if I remember correctly) it became quickly apparent that the building was equally as 'cottagy' (aka shakey- a boat house whose floor all but literally bows when everyone jumps...) and I was already loving it. By the time Sammy finished the first song I was having the time of my life. In all honestly, the only downside is that every time I am about to see Sam Roberts Band play live I think "This can't possibly live up to that first time at The Kee..."
Then I am proven wrong.
Every. Single. Time.
Sam Roberts is the most consistently awesome band I have ever, and likely will ever, have the privilege to see perform live. Hands Down. Hells, I know several people who don't even like Sam Roberts who will drop everything to see them play! They can take a room-full of people who would normally never even be in the same section of town, and turn them into a mob of like-minded singing and dancing happy-people in the time it takes to sing one chorus of "Where have all the good people gone." A soccer mom, a punk with a mohawk, a hipster teenager, a twelve year old kid, a biker dude, a square dad, and everyone in between. Why? Because they are SO. GOOD. LIVE.
Tonight I saw Sam Roberts Band at The National Arts Centre, here in Ottawa. I usually don't have the highest opinion of theatre venues for concerts- not the kinds of concerts I enjoy anyways- but Sam Roberts Band took the normal weirdness of rock-bands-in-theatre-settings and just threw it out the window. Threw it out the window and stomped on it while playing incessantly amazing guitar riffs. As usual.
I had my classic "Oh man, I forgot how much I love Nuge [Dave Nugent, the guitarist]!" moment a few seconds into the first song (it happens every time. EVERY TIME. I have no idea how I always forget about it, but I do. Its quite an odd habit...) and it just continued to get better from there. They rocketed through raucous and infinitely spectacular renditions of "Detroit 67," "Brother Down," "Them Kids," and my all time favourite "Dead End," (to name but a few) while slower ones like "Taj Mahal" and "Uprising Down Under" (which I don't think I've heard him perform live in at least five or six years... ) provided us with moments in which to catch our breath between the otherwise-non-stop dancing (despite being at the front of an incredibly INCREDIBLY high balcony. That's just the power of SRB, they are so good that they make you forget about the very real possibility of death via falling off of a balcony while dancing your feet off...).
Speaking of dancing, I also feel it necessary to mention the spectacular fancy footwork of Mr Dave Nugent. Its always a daunting task to share a stage with someone as charismatic as Sam Roberts, but Nuge always manages to steal my attention for a good portion of the show. His absorbing guitar playing, and enthusiastically sweaty shuffle punctuate the mid-song jam-sessions in the best possible way. The very few moments when I find my attention wandering (usually maybe once or twice per performance, often near the end of a particularly long instrumental break) I just direct my gaze stage left and am immediately drawn back into the action. I'm not someone who inherently finds guitar playing intriguing, but I could watch Nuge play guitar All. Day. Long. He just so clearly loves what he is doing that you can't help but be drawn in. Next time you're at a Sammy show, take a moment and direct your attention nugewards- you won't be disappointed.
So-- fantastic musicianship, jam sessions that expertly walk the line between wall-of-sound and melodic goldmine, enthusiastic playing and charismatic singing- what else can I say? All the pieces are there, but its really the gestalt of the performance- the sum being so much more than its parts- that's the bread and butter of Sam Roberts Band live. Its the way everyone jumps to their feet the moment the band walks on stage. The way every single song feels like the best song of the night. The way you can't help but jump and dance around clapping your hands. The way Sam spends ten minutes at the end of the show shaking everyone's hands and thanking them for coming (Still! From the tiny hundred-person bars to Massey Hall and the NAC, he is STILL walking down the stage thanking people for coming. That's amazing, even for a Canadian!) The way everyone has an amazing time, the audience, the band, the ushers (yes, I saw you dancing in your vest and bow tie...)... even listening to a live performance now on my computer all of those things come through. When they're in front of an audience The Sam Roberts Band comes alive in a way that makes you realize what being alive means. And that's really something. That's Music with a capital 'M'.
-E
If you've never heard Sam Roberts Band LIVE take a listen to the CBC recording of their Massey Hall Performance last summer- though I have to warn you, you may have the sudden urge to check out the Sam Roberts touring schedule...
You have a memory of something being amazing, of that thing being the absolute best version of itself that it possibly could have been. Then you get the chance to experience it again-- You know it can't possibly be as good, that you must have been over-exaggerating its greatness in your mind, and so you prepare yourself to be disappointed- well maybe not disappointed, but maybe you lower your expectations so as to avoid disappointment. Then, THEN, you get to experience it and you think to yourself "What the hell was I on? This thing is just as freakin amazing as I remember it being!" For some that thing might be an old movie, it might be grandma's chocolate cake, or a roller coaster you used to ride as a kid...
For me that thing is seeing Sam Roberts Band live in concert.
I love Sam Roberts. Not in some creepy I-want-to-have-his-babies kind of way, just in the good old fashioned band-crush I-want-to-watch-him-sing-all-the-time-forever kind of way. The first time I saw Sam Roberts band perform was the moment I truly fell in love with music. It was at The Kee to Bala, up near my cottage and it was the summer after We Were Born in a Flame had just come out. I hadn't liked "Brother Down" at all- I thought "Don't Walk Away Eileen was pretty good - but mostly I just loved the idea of going to see a concert up at the cottage (in the same venue my uncles had gone to see shows when they were teenagers...) and Sam Roberts was the only act playing who I had vaguely heard of, so I convinced my best friend to go with me.
Walking into The Kee was the first time I ever felt at home in a concert venue. Everyone was wearing flip flops and sweatpants, their hair still wet from swimming or stuffed under a hat so they didn't have to worry about washing it. When the opener came on stage (Danny Michel if I remember correctly) it became quickly apparent that the building was equally as 'cottagy' (aka shakey- a boat house whose floor all but literally bows when everyone jumps...) and I was already loving it. By the time Sammy finished the first song I was having the time of my life. In all honestly, the only downside is that every time I am about to see Sam Roberts Band play live I think "This can't possibly live up to that first time at The Kee..."
Then I am proven wrong.
Every. Single. Time.
Sam Roberts is the most consistently awesome band I have ever, and likely will ever, have the privilege to see perform live. Hands Down. Hells, I know several people who don't even like Sam Roberts who will drop everything to see them play! They can take a room-full of people who would normally never even be in the same section of town, and turn them into a mob of like-minded singing and dancing happy-people in the time it takes to sing one chorus of "Where have all the good people gone." A soccer mom, a punk with a mohawk, a hipster teenager, a twelve year old kid, a biker dude, a square dad, and everyone in between. Why? Because they are SO. GOOD. LIVE.
Tonight I saw Sam Roberts Band at The National Arts Centre, here in Ottawa. I usually don't have the highest opinion of theatre venues for concerts- not the kinds of concerts I enjoy anyways- but Sam Roberts Band took the normal weirdness of rock-bands-in-theatre-settings and just threw it out the window. Threw it out the window and stomped on it while playing incessantly amazing guitar riffs. As usual.
I had my classic "Oh man, I forgot how much I love Nuge [Dave Nugent, the guitarist]!" moment a few seconds into the first song (it happens every time. EVERY TIME. I have no idea how I always forget about it, but I do. Its quite an odd habit...) and it just continued to get better from there. They rocketed through raucous and infinitely spectacular renditions of "Detroit 67," "Brother Down," "Them Kids," and my all time favourite "Dead End," (to name but a few) while slower ones like "Taj Mahal" and "Uprising Down Under" (which I don't think I've heard him perform live in at least five or six years... ) provided us with moments in which to catch our breath between the otherwise-non-stop dancing (despite being at the front of an incredibly INCREDIBLY high balcony. That's just the power of SRB, they are so good that they make you forget about the very real possibility of death via falling off of a balcony while dancing your feet off...).
Speaking of dancing, I also feel it necessary to mention the spectacular fancy footwork of Mr Dave Nugent. Its always a daunting task to share a stage with someone as charismatic as Sam Roberts, but Nuge always manages to steal my attention for a good portion of the show. His absorbing guitar playing, and enthusiastically sweaty shuffle punctuate the mid-song jam-sessions in the best possible way. The very few moments when I find my attention wandering (usually maybe once or twice per performance, often near the end of a particularly long instrumental break) I just direct my gaze stage left and am immediately drawn back into the action. I'm not someone who inherently finds guitar playing intriguing, but I could watch Nuge play guitar All. Day. Long. He just so clearly loves what he is doing that you can't help but be drawn in. Next time you're at a Sammy show, take a moment and direct your attention nugewards- you won't be disappointed.
So-- fantastic musicianship, jam sessions that expertly walk the line between wall-of-sound and melodic goldmine, enthusiastic playing and charismatic singing- what else can I say? All the pieces are there, but its really the gestalt of the performance- the sum being so much more than its parts- that's the bread and butter of Sam Roberts Band live. Its the way everyone jumps to their feet the moment the band walks on stage. The way every single song feels like the best song of the night. The way you can't help but jump and dance around clapping your hands. The way Sam spends ten minutes at the end of the show shaking everyone's hands and thanking them for coming (Still! From the tiny hundred-person bars to Massey Hall and the NAC, he is STILL walking down the stage thanking people for coming. That's amazing, even for a Canadian!) The way everyone has an amazing time, the audience, the band, the ushers (yes, I saw you dancing in your vest and bow tie...)... even listening to a live performance now on my computer all of those things come through. When they're in front of an audience The Sam Roberts Band comes alive in a way that makes you realize what being alive means. And that's really something. That's Music with a capital 'M'.
-E
If you've never heard Sam Roberts Band LIVE take a listen to the CBC recording of their Massey Hall Performance last summer- though I have to warn you, you may have the sudden urge to check out the Sam Roberts touring schedule...
Friday, January 27, 2012
Nice to meet you and thanks for dancing!
You may have noticed I have a bit of a thing for Elliott Brood. Put quite simply: I love them. I love listening to their albums, I love flipping through their artwork, and I love seeing them perform live.
Last night's show at The Black Sheep Tavern marks my third time in as many months (I would honestly go see them every week if I could...) and it was a fantastic show, as always. The Black Sheep Tavern was sold out, packed despite the snow covered roads and impending freezing rain, and we were not to be disappointed.
Openers Harlan Pepper were amazing. You may recall a few months back I said that Lake of Stew (also performing at the Black Sheep) were the first opening act I had ever seen do an encore- well that count has now risen to two. And a well deserved encore it was.
Hailing from Hamilton Ontario, this very young (just barely nineteen) and very enthusiastic (adorably so) four-piece charmed the audience with a mix of rock, bluegrass, psychedelic, and folk. Though their hand-made signs ('Harlan Pepper' written in sharpie on two cardboard cutouts of deer) and flowered cowboy shirts may have suggested something softer, they rocked out song after song, seemingly gaining energy instead of tiring out. At one point lead singer Dan Edmonds and guitarist Jimmy Hayes stood on two chairs in the audience and co-played their guitars- strumming their own and playing the chords on the others'. Though I'm sure they've practiced it a million times, they pulled it off with a sense of spontaneity that made the crowd go wild. After a few covers, a few more unerringly energetic tunes and a plea from drummer Marion Nicolle to think about purchasing their CD ("Y'know, if you like what you hear... If you want to..." Adorable.) they played the aforementioned encore. Brilliant, all round.
Elliott Brood then took the stage with a declaration of "Its been too long Wakefield!" from guitarist Casey Laforet. I've lost count of the number of times I have seen them perform live, but this was the first time I have ever been seated for an Elliot Brood show- and I'm not gonna lie, it felt weird. But the tables were right up front, and being right up front is kinda my bag, so seated I was.
Despite half the audience being in chairs, the boys had everyone bopping their heads and clapping along in no time. With the exit sign above the door flickering with the bass, the snow swirling outside the window, and the candles lighting steins of beer, it was easy to feel immersed in the frontier aesthetic and death riddled stories of the band. The plowed through a few songs before pulling out some tunes from their oldest full length LP, Ambassadour. We were even treated to a lyric-less partial version of President 35 when lead singer Mark Sasso, stumbling during the first verse lost his place and couldn't get back on track. Talking to him after the show, he laughed and shook his head "I can't believe I forgot the words to my own song!" With other performers it might have been awkward, but the joking and teasing that followed made it decidedly entertaining (referencing their pre-song banter about the upcoming American Presidential race and the republican leadership scandals; "Newt Gingrich wanted to have an open marriage so he could be with Mark, can you blame him for getting all distracted?").
About half way through the set the boys were having no more of this sitting down nonsense (yay!) so with a "stand up if you're gonna vote in the next election!" from Sasso, and awkward 'you get up first' 'No YOU get up first' glances all around, we were suddenly on our feet and dancing to the thundering beat of Oh Alberta, Valley Town and Miss You. This is where EB are always at their best: Stephen Pitkin stompin' it out on the best kit in the land (drums covered in birch bark and wood grain, replacing his original suitcase bass drum), Casey Laforet shaking his shaggy mane over the steel guitar, and Mark Sasso on the banjo with his boppy right-step left-step shuffle.
The dancing is always my favourite part of an Elliott Brood show... The looking sideways at the exuberantly jumping teenage boys, seeing the huge smiles on the faces of each band member, and feeling the floor bounce beneath your feet as every one shouts "HEY, HEY, HEY" in perfect unison! Add in a few encores and a rousing all-bands number with Harlan Pepper (during which we held down our table while Dan Edmonds danced on it...) and the performance sadly drew to a close. As everyone gathered their coats and the crowd started to disperse, Mark Sasso stepped down off the stage and shook my hand and that of my friend. "Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for dancing!" You gotta love a band that plays an amazing show, and then thanks you for enjoying it... Do me a favour (do yourself a favour!) next time you see that Elliott Brood is playing a gig near you- go. And bring everyone you know.
Last night's show at The Black Sheep Tavern marks my third time in as many months (I would honestly go see them every week if I could...) and it was a fantastic show, as always. The Black Sheep Tavern was sold out, packed despite the snow covered roads and impending freezing rain, and we were not to be disappointed.
Openers Harlan Pepper were amazing. You may recall a few months back I said that Lake of Stew (also performing at the Black Sheep) were the first opening act I had ever seen do an encore- well that count has now risen to two. And a well deserved encore it was.
Hailing from Hamilton Ontario, this very young (just barely nineteen) and very enthusiastic (adorably so) four-piece charmed the audience with a mix of rock, bluegrass, psychedelic, and folk. Though their hand-made signs ('Harlan Pepper' written in sharpie on two cardboard cutouts of deer) and flowered cowboy shirts may have suggested something softer, they rocked out song after song, seemingly gaining energy instead of tiring out. At one point lead singer Dan Edmonds and guitarist Jimmy Hayes stood on two chairs in the audience and co-played their guitars- strumming their own and playing the chords on the others'. Though I'm sure they've practiced it a million times, they pulled it off with a sense of spontaneity that made the crowd go wild. After a few covers, a few more unerringly energetic tunes and a plea from drummer Marion Nicolle to think about purchasing their CD ("Y'know, if you like what you hear... If you want to..." Adorable.) they played the aforementioned encore. Brilliant, all round.
Elliott Brood then took the stage with a declaration of "Its been too long Wakefield!" from guitarist Casey Laforet. I've lost count of the number of times I have seen them perform live, but this was the first time I have ever been seated for an Elliot Brood show- and I'm not gonna lie, it felt weird. But the tables were right up front, and being right up front is kinda my bag, so seated I was.
Sasso 2.0 - Bearded
Despite half the audience being in chairs, the boys had everyone bopping their heads and clapping along in no time. With the exit sign above the door flickering with the bass, the snow swirling outside the window, and the candles lighting steins of beer, it was easy to feel immersed in the frontier aesthetic and death riddled stories of the band. The plowed through a few songs before pulling out some tunes from their oldest full length LP, Ambassadour. We were even treated to a lyric-less partial version of President 35 when lead singer Mark Sasso, stumbling during the first verse lost his place and couldn't get back on track. Talking to him after the show, he laughed and shook his head "I can't believe I forgot the words to my own song!" With other performers it might have been awkward, but the joking and teasing that followed made it decidedly entertaining (referencing their pre-song banter about the upcoming American Presidential race and the republican leadership scandals; "Newt Gingrich wanted to have an open marriage so he could be with Mark, can you blame him for getting all distracted?").
About half way through the set the boys were having no more of this sitting down nonsense (yay!) so with a "stand up if you're gonna vote in the next election!" from Sasso, and awkward 'you get up first' 'No YOU get up first' glances all around, we were suddenly on our feet and dancing to the thundering beat of Oh Alberta, Valley Town and Miss You. This is where EB are always at their best: Stephen Pitkin stompin' it out on the best kit in the land (drums covered in birch bark and wood grain, replacing his original suitcase bass drum), Casey Laforet shaking his shaggy mane over the steel guitar, and Mark Sasso on the banjo with his boppy right-step left-step shuffle.
The dancing is always my favourite part of an Elliott Brood show... The looking sideways at the exuberantly jumping teenage boys, seeing the huge smiles on the faces of each band member, and feeling the floor bounce beneath your feet as every one shouts "HEY, HEY, HEY" in perfect unison! Add in a few encores and a rousing all-bands number with Harlan Pepper (during which we held down our table while Dan Edmonds danced on it...) and the performance sadly drew to a close. As everyone gathered their coats and the crowd started to disperse, Mark Sasso stepped down off the stage and shook my hand and that of my friend. "Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for dancing!" You gotta love a band that plays an amazing show, and then thanks you for enjoying it... Do me a favour (do yourself a favour!) next time you see that Elliott Brood is playing a gig near you- go. And bring everyone you know.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Rememberin the Love
The past few weeks I have had numerous nostalgia-inducing musical experiences. I know that sounds a little overly existential, but really all I mean is that I've been hearing songs (or snippets of songs) that make me think of entire albums, entire catalogs, entire sections of my life in very real, viceral, even startling ways. Ten seconds of a Rufus Wainwright song brought back the vividness of a mid-Cross-Canada trip through Northern Ontario, complete with smells (cold forest), sights (endless pine trees interrupted only by bedrock and sudden lakes), and feelings (overwhelming melencholea). This may have been heightened by the innate cinematic nature of the particular CD (Want One... or was it Want Two...?) but similar experiences (a snippet of Snow Patrol vividly recalling a giant tire dump in Cape Breton, and mid-90s Matt Good Band bringing back the first set I ever worked on) have forced me to acknowledge a trend: I am having flashbacks.
Clearly this means that I am either some sort of super hero or I am in an elaborate American soap opera (because stuff like that just doesn't happen in the British ones). Either way its a rather pleasant way to be reminded of the power of music to remind us of an otherwise unreachable experience.
I recently read an NPR articule writen by vinyl collector Ian Nagoski, in which he put forth the following idea:
-E
PS Because I am a huge dork I have also spent the evening reliving a different kind of 'remembering the love,' that is the love of a very certain period of time in my life (third year university) via a rather odd annual tradition- the celebration of Robbie Burns Day as 'Billy Boyd Day' aka Hobbit Day aka I watch all three Lord of the Rings movies back to back while eating Hobbit food (usually an elaborately shire-like cheese, spinach and carrot soup,with some strikingly-similar-to-tea-biscuits style lambas bread) while drinking scotch and/or Guinness... Though this year the tradition has been undertaken all by my lonesome, it has not failed to bring about the usual sort of loverly nostalgia to which I have been accustomed... One might not think these warm fuzzy feelings would be the result of a scotch-laiden watching of epic battle scenes, but it doesn't stop it from being true any more than music bringing about such a state of mind.
Clearly this means that I am either some sort of super hero or I am in an elaborate American soap opera (because stuff like that just doesn't happen in the British ones). Either way its a rather pleasant way to be reminded of the power of music to remind us of an otherwise unreachable experience.
I recently read an NPR articule writen by vinyl collector Ian Nagoski, in which he put forth the following idea:
This comment so perfectly expresses by idea of music, I could not imagine even attempting to paraphrase it. Not does it describe the moment of the recording, but the collection of moments during which you have ever heard that song, album, or artist. Each time you listen to a song, it brings back each of those moments, temporarily folding time in such a way that they become temporarily accessible, something that is quite difficult to achieve under normal circumstances. It is one of the many reasons I love music- its ability to help you relive the past, to make you remember the love.
-E
PS Because I am a huge dork I have also spent the evening reliving a different kind of 'remembering the love,' that is the love of a very certain period of time in my life (third year university) via a rather odd annual tradition- the celebration of Robbie Burns Day as 'Billy Boyd Day' aka Hobbit Day aka I watch all three Lord of the Rings movies back to back while eating Hobbit food (usually an elaborately shire-like cheese, spinach and carrot soup,with some strikingly-similar-to-tea-biscuits style lambas bread) while drinking scotch and/or Guinness... Though this year the tradition has been undertaken all by my lonesome, it has not failed to bring about the usual sort of loverly nostalgia to which I have been accustomed... One might not think these warm fuzzy feelings would be the result of a scotch-laiden watching of epic battle scenes, but it doesn't stop it from being true any more than music bringing about such a state of mind.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Bobbie Gentry shows us the importance of leaving a little somethign to the imagination...
I heard Ode to Billy Joe on the radio the other day and have not been able to get it out of my head.
This song really hits home for me in a way I have never been able to fully understand or explain- a feeling strengthened by the video with its emphasis on the nuclear family and the detachment created by living the 'modern' family life (not to mention its references to the work of one of my favourite sculptors, George Segal). Its the same way In which I strongly identify with The Man in The Grey Flannel Suit or The Great Gatsby. Maybe its having grown up in the suburbs, the child of two parents who also grew up in the suburbs. But then again, I've never really felt that I had a suburban upbringing, there was no meat-veggies-and-two-types-of-potatoes, no long summers spent wasting away in the backyard or making small talk with the nosy neighbors (though I have owned a series of ramshackle cars since the moment I could drive, and have a certain affinity for bicycling down the middle of the road). I'm not quite sure why it feels like a life I connect with, but connect with it I do.
There's something about how the story is told, something about the mix of hope and despair, matter of fact straight talk and fuzzy suggestion. Its a thing I've talked about before- the storytelling style of country music- something I feel myself drawn to time and time again, both inside and outside of the traditional country paradigm. There is something about it that approximates real life in a way that pop music doesn't- a way that addresses the honesty of life. That it is not all ups or all downs, not all an endless party or endless trial, not all of any one thing really, not any one thing at all. Its something found in the music of Jack White, Elliott Brood, Cuff the Duke, and most bands that count old school country as one of their references. Even bands marginally influenced by Johnny Cash or Bob Dylan, bands like Sam Roberts or The Decemberists, bring that sort of rounded story telling to their songs.
Perhaps ironically then it is the habit of not-painting-the-full-picture that most closely ties together the styles of these artists. The ability to give the pertinent details while leaving the rest up to the imagination. I heard they tried to make a movie out of An Ode To Billy Joe and it failed miserably, unexpectedly because the song is so full of opportunity, such an intriguing story full of complex mystery. Problem is when you take away the questions, the part left up to the imagination, you take away the magic. Too often we forget the importance of what we ourselves bring to the experience of artwork, of songs and paintings and novels. We bring ourselves. And what could be more important?
This song really hits home for me in a way I have never been able to fully understand or explain- a feeling strengthened by the video with its emphasis on the nuclear family and the detachment created by living the 'modern' family life (not to mention its references to the work of one of my favourite sculptors, George Segal). Its the same way In which I strongly identify with The Man in The Grey Flannel Suit or The Great Gatsby. Maybe its having grown up in the suburbs, the child of two parents who also grew up in the suburbs. But then again, I've never really felt that I had a suburban upbringing, there was no meat-veggies-and-two-types-of-potatoes, no long summers spent wasting away in the backyard or making small talk with the nosy neighbors (though I have owned a series of ramshackle cars since the moment I could drive, and have a certain affinity for bicycling down the middle of the road). I'm not quite sure why it feels like a life I connect with, but connect with it I do.
There's something about how the story is told, something about the mix of hope and despair, matter of fact straight talk and fuzzy suggestion. Its a thing I've talked about before- the storytelling style of country music- something I feel myself drawn to time and time again, both inside and outside of the traditional country paradigm. There is something about it that approximates real life in a way that pop music doesn't- a way that addresses the honesty of life. That it is not all ups or all downs, not all an endless party or endless trial, not all of any one thing really, not any one thing at all. Its something found in the music of Jack White, Elliott Brood, Cuff the Duke, and most bands that count old school country as one of their references. Even bands marginally influenced by Johnny Cash or Bob Dylan, bands like Sam Roberts or The Decemberists, bring that sort of rounded story telling to their songs.
Perhaps ironically then it is the habit of not-painting-the-full-picture that most closely ties together the styles of these artists. The ability to give the pertinent details while leaving the rest up to the imagination. I heard they tried to make a movie out of An Ode To Billy Joe and it failed miserably, unexpectedly because the song is so full of opportunity, such an intriguing story full of complex mystery. Problem is when you take away the questions, the part left up to the imagination, you take away the magic. Too often we forget the importance of what we ourselves bring to the experience of artwork, of songs and paintings and novels. We bring ourselves. And what could be more important?
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Dry River Caravan at Wakefield's river valley inn, The Black Sheep Tavern
If you've never had the opportunity to catch a show at the Black Sheep Inn, you should plan a trip to Wakefield, Quebec in the very near future. I know I've extolled its virtures before, but the small town surroundings, friendly people, fantastic food, and local brews make the perfect backdrop for many a quietly rambunctious musical experience. The Black Sheep is known for hosting bands as varied in home towns as they are in musical styles, and they always knock it out of the park.
Last Friday the staged was graced by local Ottawa outfit Dry River Caravan supported by The Opposite of Everything out of Toronto. I should preface this review by saying that the last show I saw at The Black Sheep was an unqualified success with Montreal's Lake of Stew warming up the crowd for banjoman extraordinaire Old Man Luedecke, and reciving the only opening-band-encore I have ever experienced. Needless to say the bar was set rather high... Had I not had this in the back of my mind the Opposite of Everything may have impressed me more, but alas it was not the case.
All the pieces were certainly there- the eclectic mix of klesmer and bluegrass combined with Indian and African rhythms provided an interesting base, but the songs just didn't seem to come together. The individual members of the band were fantastic musicians (Particularly John Williams on Clarinet and Harmonica)- and each looked as if they were having a great time up on stage- but again the pieces didn't really seem to come together. Lead singer Jaron Freeman-Fox and accordion/keys player Johnny Spence even physically collided with each other on several occasions (and not in that we're-so-excited-we-bash-into-each-other-on-purpose kind of excellent way, more in a hey-I-didn't-see you-there-cuz-I'm-off-in-my-own-world kind of a way...). The overall performance, while clearly showing immense amounts of promise, seemed in need of a healthy dose of practice and significantly more direction. From reading other reviews of their live show I am inclined to think they were just having a bit of an off night, so I would certainly give them another chance, but this was far from the best performance I've ever seen...
In striking contrast were headliners Dry River Caravan. I first came across this local group at one of Ottawa's gigantic neighborhood street sales and instantly fell in love with their music. An interesting mix of several folky-styles my enjoyment of the music was helped along by their engaging smiles and never ending enthusiasm- not many people can play an eight-hour garage sale and still be smiling by the end of it! This was my first opportunity to see them playing in a more traditional indoor-setting.
The very definition of a group, the members of Dry River Caravan fed off of each other in every aspect of their performance. Robin Meyer-MacLeod did not seem to be able to wipe the smile off of his face through singing, clarinet playing and happy-dancing, and bouzouki player Matt Smith is quite possibly one of the most entertainingly into-it performers I have ever seen, even looking like he was going to openly weep during several melodramatic moments. John Cockburn's beautifully charismatic voice and energetic acordioning provided the anchor lacking in the opener's performance, and Daniel Grewal on upright bass, Liam Smith on drums , and the guest trumepteer beautifully rounded out the group.
After getting off to a slow start, they soon won the crowd over and had several members of the audience making up impromptu dance routines and cheers. Mixing klezmer, bluegrass, and folk with sweeping narratives and an energetic performance, there could not have been a more perfect compliment to the swirling snow outside, the cold beers, and the friendly crowd.
I will certainly be keeping an eye out for future shows by both bands- a sure-thing from Dry River Caravan, and a second look at The Opposite of Everything.
Last Friday the staged was graced by local Ottawa outfit Dry River Caravan supported by The Opposite of Everything out of Toronto. I should preface this review by saying that the last show I saw at The Black Sheep was an unqualified success with Montreal's Lake of Stew warming up the crowd for banjoman extraordinaire Old Man Luedecke, and reciving the only opening-band-encore I have ever experienced. Needless to say the bar was set rather high... Had I not had this in the back of my mind the Opposite of Everything may have impressed me more, but alas it was not the case.
All the pieces were certainly there- the eclectic mix of klesmer and bluegrass combined with Indian and African rhythms provided an interesting base, but the songs just didn't seem to come together. The individual members of the band were fantastic musicians (Particularly John Williams on Clarinet and Harmonica)- and each looked as if they were having a great time up on stage- but again the pieces didn't really seem to come together. Lead singer Jaron Freeman-Fox and accordion/keys player Johnny Spence even physically collided with each other on several occasions (and not in that we're-so-excited-we-bash-into-each-other-on-purpose kind of excellent way, more in a hey-I-didn't-see you-there-cuz-I'm-off-in-my-own-world kind of a way...). The overall performance, while clearly showing immense amounts of promise, seemed in need of a healthy dose of practice and significantly more direction. From reading other reviews of their live show I am inclined to think they were just having a bit of an off night, so I would certainly give them another chance, but this was far from the best performance I've ever seen...
In striking contrast were headliners Dry River Caravan. I first came across this local group at one of Ottawa's gigantic neighborhood street sales and instantly fell in love with their music. An interesting mix of several folky-styles my enjoyment of the music was helped along by their engaging smiles and never ending enthusiasm- not many people can play an eight-hour garage sale and still be smiling by the end of it! This was my first opportunity to see them playing in a more traditional indoor-setting.
The very definition of a group, the members of Dry River Caravan fed off of each other in every aspect of their performance. Robin Meyer-MacLeod did not seem to be able to wipe the smile off of his face through singing, clarinet playing and happy-dancing, and bouzouki player Matt Smith is quite possibly one of the most entertainingly into-it performers I have ever seen, even looking like he was going to openly weep during several melodramatic moments. John Cockburn's beautifully charismatic voice and energetic acordioning provided the anchor lacking in the opener's performance, and Daniel Grewal on upright bass, Liam Smith on drums , and the guest trumepteer beautifully rounded out the group.
After getting off to a slow start, they soon won the crowd over and had several members of the audience making up impromptu dance routines and cheers. Mixing klezmer, bluegrass, and folk with sweeping narratives and an energetic performance, there could not have been a more perfect compliment to the swirling snow outside, the cold beers, and the friendly crowd.
I will certainly be keeping an eye out for future shows by both bands- a sure-thing from Dry River Caravan, and a second look at The Opposite of Everything.
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