...and I still have 94 sleeps until Hillside!
Hillside Festival that is. I always feel like there shouldn't be a capital letter... so hillside. yep.
Though I attended once before, last summer was the first year I volunteered at Guelph's hillside festival and had the whole full-weekend/camping-in-volunteer-village/seeing-a-bajillion-shows/doin'-it-the-hillside-way experience. I loved it. Seriously super-loved it. It only took me about fifteen minutes before I declared "I am doing this again next year and every year forever!" or something to that effect...
I adored every minute of the weekend despite only having pre-hillside heard of about six of the bands (and missing two of them cuz we had to leave to go to a wedding!). We discovered countless new bands to swoon over (including the incredible Graveyard Train) and spent hours sitting on the lawn, tent-hopping, swimming and wandering the food and merch tents... it was fab.
So this year, when the hillside lineup for 2012 got announced and three separate people sent me "Holy crap have you seen the hillside line-up!?!" messages I was understandably anxious to check out the list of performers.
Holy Crap is right.
ALX, Arkells, Rich Aucoin, BADBADNOTGOOD, Bahamas, The Be Good
Tanyas, Belle Starr, Geoff Berner, Birds of Chicago, Bidiniband, Bombay
Bicycle Club, The Bright Light Social Hour, Bry Webb And The Providers,
Chic Gamine, Adam Cohen, Cold Specks, The Crooked Brothers, Current
Swell, The Deep Dark Woods, Doldrums, Dirty Mags, The Durants, Kathleen
Edwards, Elephant Revival, Elliott BROOD, Esther Grey, Christine
Fellows, Great Lake Swimmers, Alanna Gurr, Imaginary Cities, The
Jezabels, Joel Plaskett Emergency, Keys N Krates, The Magnificent 7s,
Maylee Todd, Memoryhouse, Mickey Hart Band, Minor Empire, New Country
Rehab, Ohbijou, Open Hearts Society, Sandro Perri, (POP Montreal
Presents: Canailles, Jennifer Castle, Mike O'Brien + Michelle Tompkins),
Joe Pug, Rival Boys, Lucy Wainwright Roche, Selina Martin Triplets,
Sagapool, The Slackadeliqs, StereoKid, The Strumbellas, Tālavya, Sidi
Touré, Chad VanGaalen, Valdy, Walk Off The Earth, The Wooden Sky, Young
Empires, Zeus.
yeah... Excited.
I am excited about Zeus (first time I will have seen them not as an opening band)
I am excited about Ohbijou (so beautiful!)
I am excited about The Wooden Sky (perfect hillside fare!)
I am excited about Great Lake Swimmers and Current Swell and the Arkells
But more than all that put together I am excited about Elliott BROOD.
Since moving back to Ontario a little over a year ago, I've seen them four times (more than in the previous four years all put together!) and its done nothing but make my love of them even more acute. Seriously, if I could only listen to one band for the rest of my life, I would be sad, but I would at least be mostly okay with it as long as that band were Elliot Brood. And EB live? even better.
Obviously I am excited to see them perform. And I am particularly excited to see them perform at hillside (because hillside performances are always magically even better than the best non-hillside performances). But more than that I am super excited to possibly see them two or three times in as many days (workshops! tents! mainstage!). That last realisation just hit me today, telling my roomate about it while doing dishes. And I had a weird experience, a tv/book/imaginary-world type experience: I suddenly got so excited that I felt momentarily nauseous. Seriously. It was weird. but also awesome.
I realize I have just irrevocably confirmed my status as an absolutely huge live-music dork, but honestly, if you haven't figured that out by now.... just wait until my hillside posts start rolling in...!
Only 94 sleeps until hillside!
Showing posts with label Elliott Brood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elliott Brood. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
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.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Top Five Performances of 2011 (#3)
3
Elliott Brood - Northern Air - La Sala Rossa, Montreal QC, November 19, 2011
I make no secret of this, Elliott Brood is pretty much my favourite band, and I always enjoy seeing them perform live. Even the worst EB show I have ever seen (also this year...) is pretty much a sure thing, but the best Elliott Brood show, well now. Only number three because numbers one and two had the surprise-first-time-seein-em factor- plus I really should give other bands a chance... ;o)
As I am wont to do I saw the band perform several times on the same tour- both in Ottawa and Montreal. The Ottawa show was the aforementioned worst-one-ever, so my hopes were not too high for Montreal (well, comparatively not too high). That may have played a part, but regardless I was blown away.
It may have been because it was the last stop on their tour, or because the crowd was surprisingly excitable for Montreal, but regardless of the reason the performance was fantastic. Energetic and enthusiastic, sweat flying and givin'er at every turn, it was everything I have come to love about this band. The crowd danced non-stop, sang along with every song, and cheered through endless collaborative encores.
It was my first time at La Sala Rossa- A perfect size with just enough space to feel full, but not crowded, and leave just enough room for copious amounts of dancing. A beautiful gem of an old theatre space chocked full of character, from the hardwood floors to the crown moldings, the soaring ceilings to the sculpted proscenium arch. There could be few venues better suited to the aesthetic of the band. Banjos, guitars and pounding drums easily filled the space, sounding great from every angle, and giving chest pounding bass without busting your eardrums.
It was also my first time seeing my now-favorite drum kit of all time- covered with birch bark and tree rings- only one of the many Elliott Brood visuals (from chairs to merch to backdrops) I spend every show oohing and ahhing over (my friends spent significant amounts of time making fun of how many more photos I was taking of the kit than of the band). It was also great to hear quite a few old songs (first-album old! ones I haven't heard live in years) right along brand new anthems and sing-alongs. It was clear that virtually everyone in the crowd had listened to every album countless times, and great to hear shout outs to numerous old-time fans.
This show was the result of an ideal combination of energetically played music, an enthusiastic crowd, and a perfectly themed venue. Elliott Brood the way they were meant to be seen and heard. Here's hoping every one of their shows matches this one!
Elliott Brood - Northern Air - La Sala Rossa, Montreal QC, November 19, 2011
I make no secret of this, Elliott Brood is pretty much my favourite band, and I always enjoy seeing them perform live. Even the worst EB show I have ever seen (also this year...) is pretty much a sure thing, but the best Elliott Brood show, well now. Only number three because numbers one and two had the surprise-first-time-seein-em factor- plus I really should give other bands a chance... ;o)
As I am wont to do I saw the band perform several times on the same tour- both in Ottawa and Montreal. The Ottawa show was the aforementioned worst-one-ever, so my hopes were not too high for Montreal (well, comparatively not too high). That may have played a part, but regardless I was blown away.
It may have been because it was the last stop on their tour, or because the crowd was surprisingly excitable for Montreal, but regardless of the reason the performance was fantastic. Energetic and enthusiastic, sweat flying and givin'er at every turn, it was everything I have come to love about this band. The crowd danced non-stop, sang along with every song, and cheered through endless collaborative encores.
It was my first time at La Sala Rossa- A perfect size with just enough space to feel full, but not crowded, and leave just enough room for copious amounts of dancing. A beautiful gem of an old theatre space chocked full of character, from the hardwood floors to the crown moldings, the soaring ceilings to the sculpted proscenium arch. There could be few venues better suited to the aesthetic of the band. Banjos, guitars and pounding drums easily filled the space, sounding great from every angle, and giving chest pounding bass without busting your eardrums.
It was also my first time seeing my now-favorite drum kit of all time- covered with birch bark and tree rings- only one of the many Elliott Brood visuals (from chairs to merch to backdrops) I spend every show oohing and ahhing over (my friends spent significant amounts of time making fun of how many more photos I was taking of the kit than of the band). It was also great to hear quite a few old songs (first-album old! ones I haven't heard live in years) right along brand new anthems and sing-alongs. It was clear that virtually everyone in the crowd had listened to every album countless times, and great to hear shout outs to numerous old-time fans.
This show was the result of an ideal combination of energetically played music, an enthusiastic crowd, and a perfectly themed venue. Elliott Brood the way they were meant to be seen and heard. Here's hoping every one of their shows matches this one!
Friday, January 6, 2012
Top Five Performances of 2011 (#5)
So I already know that as you're reading that title you're thinking "Top five? Shouldn't that be top ten?" Unless of course you know me personally in which case you're likely thinking "Oh gawd, not another top five list..." you're welcome dear readers for not regularly inflicting these on you... Either way, I am a fan of the top five list over the top ten because I find it more challenging. And more reflective of actual 'best of's. And just better. So yeah.
I should perhaps start off by mentioning that this is not the top five CANADIAN bands of 2011, even though it pretty much looks that way... What can I say, I love Canadian music! Can I help it if we have awesome bands up here? No. No I cannot help that. I can, however, revel in the fact and enjoy every minute of music listening joy. Also I am not a "Top Five Albums" kind of gal- sure all of these bands released albums in 2011, and sure I absolutely love all of them (and may or may not have done several weeks of chain-listening), but it is too difficult for me to separate a band's on-album work from their live performances. Plus live performances are just awesome. Seriously. So without further ado:
5
Said the Whale - New Brighton - The Live Lounge, Ottawa, ON, September 14, 2011
One of the many bands my sister introduced be to this year who I have since fallen totally in love with- their combination of clever-lyric riddled short songs, cheery attitudes, and wonderful music/voices make listening to their music on headphones or in the car a joy and even better in person. The venue (the live lounge in Ottawa's Bytown Market) made it even better, with some of the best pre-show music I have heard in a long time (perhaps ever actually! Ele will back me up on that) the perfect size (big enough but not too big) a great crowd (enthusiastic, but devoted enough to manage complete silence during the beautifully performed Curse of the Currents), good sound and even a free cd at the door!
As with all good concerts, it has to be at least partially described by saying (cheesy at it always sounds) the vibe was great- everyone was excited to be there, especially the band. Impromptu sing-alongs, acoustic jamming, and cheerful banter abounded. They played all their hits (not difficult for a band with only two full length albums and only maybe three songs clocking in at over two minutes, but still appreciated!) and a slew of new ones which were well received, albeit skeptically at first.
Its always nice to be at a show where you really get the feeling that no one in the room would wish to be anywhere else. This was that show. Excellent.
I should perhaps start off by mentioning that this is not the top five CANADIAN bands of 2011, even though it pretty much looks that way... What can I say, I love Canadian music! Can I help it if we have awesome bands up here? No. No I cannot help that. I can, however, revel in the fact and enjoy every minute of music listening joy. Also I am not a "Top Five Albums" kind of gal- sure all of these bands released albums in 2011, and sure I absolutely love all of them (and may or may not have done several weeks of chain-listening), but it is too difficult for me to separate a band's on-album work from their live performances. Plus live performances are just awesome. Seriously. So without further ado:
5
Said the Whale - New Brighton - The Live Lounge, Ottawa, ON, September 14, 2011
One of the many bands my sister introduced be to this year who I have since fallen totally in love with- their combination of clever-lyric riddled short songs, cheery attitudes, and wonderful music/voices make listening to their music on headphones or in the car a joy and even better in person. The venue (the live lounge in Ottawa's Bytown Market) made it even better, with some of the best pre-show music I have heard in a long time (perhaps ever actually! Ele will back me up on that) the perfect size (big enough but not too big) a great crowd (enthusiastic, but devoted enough to manage complete silence during the beautifully performed Curse of the Currents), good sound and even a free cd at the door!
As with all good concerts, it has to be at least partially described by saying (cheesy at it always sounds) the vibe was great- everyone was excited to be there, especially the band. Impromptu sing-alongs, acoustic jamming, and cheerful banter abounded. They played all their hits (not difficult for a band with only two full length albums and only maybe three songs clocking in at over two minutes, but still appreciated!) and a slew of new ones which were well received, albeit skeptically at first.
Its always nice to be at a show where you really get the feeling that no one in the room would wish to be anywhere else. This was that show. Excellent.
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...!
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.
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, 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
Monday, June 27, 2011
Participatory Rock
Elliot Brood. Seriously. So Good.
They make banjo sexy. Mark Sasso? Sexy. Combine now-time rock with oldey-time sound. And lets not even talk about the experience of closing your eyes and seeing tumble weeds roll by a saloon full of bandits and bathtub whiskey, poker games and a player piano... Lets talk about audience participation.
You go to a concert and you expect people to sing along, you expect people to dance, and jump around and rush the stage (okay maybe not that last one, but as with a surprising number of shows I've been to a few overly enthusiastic souls jumped up on stage and ran around in gleeful delight, much to the entertainment of the boys in the band...). All of those things are excellent, all of those things are what I love about concerts, but Elliot Brood takes it a step further: they pass out pots and pans and wooden spoons. And you hit them. You hit them in time to the music. You hit them hard, and loud, and with great amounts of enthusiasm. And it is awesome.
Now I admit I can get a little overly enthusiastic, but give me a pan and a wooden spoon and Elliot Brood and you are putting your life in your hands. I almost hit my sister in the face, and my spoon flew out of my hand on at least two occasions. My once-flat pan turned into a now-rounded bowl. My sock-feet got full of splinters and my ears were ringing with wood-on-metal and banjos and drums and foot-petal bass... So. Much. Fun.
I love Elliot Brood's music, I love their enthusiasm, and their unconventional sexiness, and their ability to time-travel, but most of all I love how I feel when I listen to their music; like I'm a part of it. Like its all around me. Like I'm home.
Also like I'm five years old and playing drums on the patio furniture with a paddle I found in the shed. Rock on.
They make banjo sexy. Mark Sasso? Sexy. Combine now-time rock with oldey-time sound. And lets not even talk about the experience of closing your eyes and seeing tumble weeds roll by a saloon full of bandits and bathtub whiskey, poker games and a player piano... Lets talk about audience participation.
You go to a concert and you expect people to sing along, you expect people to dance, and jump around and rush the stage (okay maybe not that last one, but as with a surprising number of shows I've been to a few overly enthusiastic souls jumped up on stage and ran around in gleeful delight, much to the entertainment of the boys in the band...). All of those things are excellent, all of those things are what I love about concerts, but Elliot Brood takes it a step further: they pass out pots and pans and wooden spoons. And you hit them. You hit them in time to the music. You hit them hard, and loud, and with great amounts of enthusiasm. And it is awesome.
Now I admit I can get a little overly enthusiastic, but give me a pan and a wooden spoon and Elliot Brood and you are putting your life in your hands. I almost hit my sister in the face, and my spoon flew out of my hand on at least two occasions. My once-flat pan turned into a now-rounded bowl. My sock-feet got full of splinters and my ears were ringing with wood-on-metal and banjos and drums and foot-petal bass... So. Much. Fun.
I love Elliot Brood's music, I love their enthusiasm, and their unconventional sexiness, and their ability to time-travel, but most of all I love how I feel when I listen to their music; like I'm a part of it. Like its all around me. Like I'm home.
Also like I'm five years old and playing drums on the patio furniture with a paddle I found in the shed. Rock on.
Monday, June 13, 2011
The Quiet Epicness of the In-Between
I get weird things stuck in my head. Okay, plain ol' songs = not so weird. But getting phrases stuck on repeat in my brain seems to be somewhat more unusual... It all started in grade five with 'Help I've fallen and I can't get up!' and has progressed from there. The latest? "Willie, Why did you give me campylobacter!?!" It just comes out of nowhere, and I start giggling to myself and everyone thinks I've gone bonkers... thank you John Green.
Hybridized-songs is another favourite category- I have one going on in there and it just morphs into another- then of course I can't hear either of those two songs without hearing my mash-up version instead. The other day I was singing I Could Never Be Your Woman by Whitetown to myself, complete with clarinet/synth riff sung in doo doo dee doos .... when somewhere along the line it turned into the death-star theme from Star Wars! Now I am aware (from the reactions of friends I was with at the time) that no one finds this as entertaining as I do, but its just so unusual to get startled by something that's in your own head... how could I not find it hilarious? Alright, now I really am starting to sound like a crackpot...
Aaaaaanyways, what I actually meant to be talking about is the more pleasant phenomenon of a stuck-in-your-head-song reminding you of something you haven't heard in years, prompting you to re-listen to a long forgotten but much beloved tune. I have recently been chain-listening to There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman. The absolutely lovely lyrics and the slightly epic musical arrangement are awesome in and of themselves, but they also very very very much remind me of Oysrterband's album Holy Bandits.
Now I'm not a huge fan of Celtic music -I'm sure I've mentioned before that I love bagpipes but can't stand fiddles- but this lack of enthusiasm is easily trumped my love of Oysterband. Epic riffs, sad yet beautiful lyrics, pounding drums and haunting tunes that stay in your head for days... Re-listening to the CD reminds me not only of the time I spent in my fourth-year studio blaring 'Road to Santiago' (and having friends express confusion at the uncharacteristic Celtic-ness of the music) but also of the worlds to which I was always transported when listening to their songs. Not the philosophically-laced fairy tales of The Shins, nor the Grungy Detroit of The White Stripes, or even the Ontariario of Elliot Brood, but the vast in-between that rests somewhere betwixt the real and the imaginary, betwixt fable and fact.
A.C. Newman similarly creates this feeling of within. Of being, not a fly on the wall, but being actually in between the feelings and the words and emotions of the situation, floating in the invisible waters of intangibility. Such a short song, so few lyrics, but believe me, the feeling of epicness rivals that of Homer. And no I don't mean the cartoon one.
There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman
Hybridized-songs is another favourite category- I have one going on in there and it just morphs into another- then of course I can't hear either of those two songs without hearing my mash-up version instead. The other day I was singing I Could Never Be Your Woman by Whitetown to myself, complete with clarinet/synth riff sung in doo doo dee doos .... when somewhere along the line it turned into the death-star theme from Star Wars! Now I am aware (from the reactions of friends I was with at the time) that no one finds this as entertaining as I do, but its just so unusual to get startled by something that's in your own head... how could I not find it hilarious? Alright, now I really am starting to sound like a crackpot...
Aaaaaanyways, what I actually meant to be talking about is the more pleasant phenomenon of a stuck-in-your-head-song reminding you of something you haven't heard in years, prompting you to re-listen to a long forgotten but much beloved tune. I have recently been chain-listening to There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman. The absolutely lovely lyrics and the slightly epic musical arrangement are awesome in and of themselves, but they also very very very much remind me of Oysrterband's album Holy Bandits.
Now I'm not a huge fan of Celtic music -I'm sure I've mentioned before that I love bagpipes but can't stand fiddles- but this lack of enthusiasm is easily trumped my love of Oysterband. Epic riffs, sad yet beautiful lyrics, pounding drums and haunting tunes that stay in your head for days... Re-listening to the CD reminds me not only of the time I spent in my fourth-year studio blaring 'Road to Santiago' (and having friends express confusion at the uncharacteristic Celtic-ness of the music) but also of the worlds to which I was always transported when listening to their songs. Not the philosophically-laced fairy tales of The Shins, nor the Grungy Detroit of The White Stripes, or even the Ontariario of Elliot Brood, but the vast in-between that rests somewhere betwixt the real and the imaginary, betwixt fable and fact.
A.C. Newman similarly creates this feeling of within. Of being, not a fly on the wall, but being actually in between the feelings and the words and emotions of the situation, floating in the invisible waters of intangibility. Such a short song, so few lyrics, but believe me, the feeling of epicness rivals that of Homer. And no I don't mean the cartoon one.
There May be Ten or Twelve by A.C. Newman
There are maybe ten or twelve
Things I could teach you
After that, well, I think you're on your own
And that wasn't the opening line
It was the tenth or the twelfth
Make of that what you will
Once there was a haunted loop
Of your deep, fallen tears
A forehead resting on a record shelf
Amid moving boxes stacked
I'm still waiting for the right words
Make of that what you will
And the eyes they were
A color I can't remember
Which says more than the first two verses
And it is the devil you know
That will slam the door harder
Make of that what you will
Things I could teach you
After that, well, I think you're on your own
And that wasn't the opening line
It was the tenth or the twelfth
Make of that what you will
Once there was a haunted loop
Of your deep, fallen tears
A forehead resting on a record shelf
Amid moving boxes stacked
I'm still waiting for the right words
Make of that what you will
And the eyes they were
A color I can't remember
Which says more than the first two verses
And it is the devil you know
That will slam the door harder
Make of that what you will
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Home, Home, Hooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaame
I lived 'away' for quite a number of years- four provinces away from home for over ten years to be exact, and I never stopped longing for that feeling of being where you're 'supposed' to be... Its great to travel, its great to see the world, and I could not be happier that I didn't just live in one place for my whole life, but there are places that feel 'right' and places that just don't, and the longer you live in one of those 'just don't' places, the sadder you feel.
Music was always the most difficult thing for me- on the east coast its all about fiddles and bagpipes- now don't get me wrong, I love me some bagpipes (especially piobaireachd) but east coast music is just not the same as music from Ontariario... I missed the experience of going to concerts, I missed the summer festivals and the accessibility of it all, but more than anything it was the overwhelming feeling that got all stirred up in me when I listened to a home-town band.
There was many a time driving home from work when a song would come on and have me in tears of homesickness, but no band was more responsible for these occurrences as Elliot Brood. I thought that I could pinpoint it to a song (for a long time I thought it was just Oh Alberta) but as I listened to more and more of their music, I realized that there is just something about it that screams home for me. Something about the sound and the lyrics and the enthusiasm and the unabashed love for where they live that jumps out and grabs me by the intestines. There are bands that are like this about many places, Old Man Luedeke will forever symbolize the South Shore to me, just as the Decemberists practically scream Portland, but I'm not from the South Shore or Portland, I'm from Ontario, and Elliot Brood captures that feeling of Ontario Home like no other band I know.
The other day The Valley Town came on the radio. This time the opening banjo chord, the building complexities and the rousing chorus at the end made my heart soar instead of making me homesick. I don't know how they do it, or even what they're doing, I'm just happy to be able to experience it where I'm meant to be. Home.
Music was always the most difficult thing for me- on the east coast its all about fiddles and bagpipes- now don't get me wrong, I love me some bagpipes (especially piobaireachd) but east coast music is just not the same as music from Ontariario... I missed the experience of going to concerts, I missed the summer festivals and the accessibility of it all, but more than anything it was the overwhelming feeling that got all stirred up in me when I listened to a home-town band.
There was many a time driving home from work when a song would come on and have me in tears of homesickness, but no band was more responsible for these occurrences as Elliot Brood. I thought that I could pinpoint it to a song (for a long time I thought it was just Oh Alberta) but as I listened to more and more of their music, I realized that there is just something about it that screams home for me. Something about the sound and the lyrics and the enthusiasm and the unabashed love for where they live that jumps out and grabs me by the intestines. There are bands that are like this about many places, Old Man Luedeke will forever symbolize the South Shore to me, just as the Decemberists practically scream Portland, but I'm not from the South Shore or Portland, I'm from Ontario, and Elliot Brood captures that feeling of Ontario Home like no other band I know.
The other day The Valley Town came on the radio. This time the opening banjo chord, the building complexities and the rousing chorus at the end made my heart soar instead of making me homesick. I don't know how they do it, or even what they're doing, I'm just happy to be able to experience it where I'm meant to be. Home.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Soul-Time-Sing-A-Long
I love to sing along with songs. You know this about me (and possibly about yourselves!) though I don't think I wrote that quite properly... it should read:
I LOVE to sing along with songs!!!
There are many things that make me happy, but this would be top five, maybe even top three.... actually more like top two. I love it so very very much. Very much.
There is something about singing in the car specifically.... in the summer, windows rolled down, driving way over the speed limit, with the music so loud your ears are ringing and singing so loudly that your voice goes hoarse (I actually once sang so enthusiastically to 'Bicycle Race' by Queen while on the way to work that I lost my voice and had to write things down for the whole day...) and I can't even put into words how much joy this brings me. I have tried on several occasions and just never seem to be able to quite capture it... However, on a recent road-trip I re-heard one of my all time favourite songs (I'm not afraid to admit it, its uber 90s alternative, and not exactly the most profound thing ever, but I can't help it, it speaks to my soul!) and was reminded of all of the things I love about singing in the car. As cheese as it is, this experience is so fully encapsulated in Open Road Song that I feel the need to block-quote it...
"I crack a window and feel the cool air cleanse my every pore, as I pour my poor heart out to a radio song that's patient and willing to listen, my volume drowns it out. Yeah but that's okay, 'cuz I sound better than him anyway, any day. Yeah my voice is sweet as salt. I search for comfort and I find it where I found it many times before, though times before can be forgotten..."
Its the singing-along part! The you-drowning-out-the-music part! The finding-comfort-in-pouring-your-heart-out part!
Back in high school all of my car-songs needed to be of a certain type to be able to 'work'- loud, fast, rock. Thats's what car music was to me, but my car-music tastes have broadened vastly in the interim... From Sons and Daughters by the Decemberists to Valley Town by Elliott Brood they have widened to include songs that paint sweeping vistas, that use intricate harmonies and gut-grabbing melodies, not just those that are loud and fast. And yet the all important lyrical factor has remained unchanged. I know many people who would disagree with me on this, but lyrics are as important to a song as the melody, the production values, or the instruments its played on.
I sing along with songs. You need good lyrics to sing along to, and I need to sing along for a song to be real to me. Singing along is how songs seep into my soul and become an inseparable part of me. Its how they transport me in time (Semi-Charmed Life), its how they make me homesick (Oh Alberta), its how they make my heart burst (Wake Up)...
Two of my current favourites are Ghosts by Laura Marling and Gentleman by Said the Whale. Neither are all epic, neither are all loud, neither are what one might call all hard-core... but both have absolutely sweet and beautiful lyrics that melt my insides when I hear them and even more so when I sing along.
Whether the song is quietly beautiful or heart-thumpingly exciting- that feeling of flying down the open road, singing at the top of your lungs.... perfection.
I LOVE to sing along with songs!!!
There are many things that make me happy, but this would be top five, maybe even top three.... actually more like top two. I love it so very very much. Very much.
There is something about singing in the car specifically.... in the summer, windows rolled down, driving way over the speed limit, with the music so loud your ears are ringing and singing so loudly that your voice goes hoarse (I actually once sang so enthusiastically to 'Bicycle Race' by Queen while on the way to work that I lost my voice and had to write things down for the whole day...) and I can't even put into words how much joy this brings me. I have tried on several occasions and just never seem to be able to quite capture it... However, on a recent road-trip I re-heard one of my all time favourite songs (I'm not afraid to admit it, its uber 90s alternative, and not exactly the most profound thing ever, but I can't help it, it speaks to my soul!) and was reminded of all of the things I love about singing in the car. As cheese as it is, this experience is so fully encapsulated in Open Road Song that I feel the need to block-quote it...
"I crack a window and feel the cool air cleanse my every pore, as I pour my poor heart out to a radio song that's patient and willing to listen, my volume drowns it out. Yeah but that's okay, 'cuz I sound better than him anyway, any day. Yeah my voice is sweet as salt. I search for comfort and I find it where I found it many times before, though times before can be forgotten..."
Its the singing-along part! The you-drowning-out-the-music part! The finding-comfort-in-pouring-your-heart-out part!
Back in high school all of my car-songs needed to be of a certain type to be able to 'work'- loud, fast, rock. Thats's what car music was to me, but my car-music tastes have broadened vastly in the interim... From Sons and Daughters by the Decemberists to Valley Town by Elliott Brood they have widened to include songs that paint sweeping vistas, that use intricate harmonies and gut-grabbing melodies, not just those that are loud and fast. And yet the all important lyrical factor has remained unchanged. I know many people who would disagree with me on this, but lyrics are as important to a song as the melody, the production values, or the instruments its played on.
I sing along with songs. You need good lyrics to sing along to, and I need to sing along for a song to be real to me. Singing along is how songs seep into my soul and become an inseparable part of me. Its how they transport me in time (Semi-Charmed Life), its how they make me homesick (Oh Alberta), its how they make my heart burst (Wake Up)...
Two of my current favourites are Ghosts by Laura Marling and Gentleman by Said the Whale. Neither are all epic, neither are all loud, neither are what one might call all hard-core... but both have absolutely sweet and beautiful lyrics that melt my insides when I hear them and even more so when I sing along.
Whether the song is quietly beautiful or heart-thumpingly exciting- that feeling of flying down the open road, singing at the top of your lungs.... perfection.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Year, New Music, New Blog
I've recently been re-organizing my life. I moved back home (well, not back home as in "into my parents' house," actually not even in the same city as them, but when you've lived three provinces away for the last ten years, living only five hours from where you grew up feels an awful lot like home!). I changed jobs. I started painting again. And I decided to re-aquaint myself with music.
Unlike many music lovers, I was not born into it. I didn't sit in my crib listening to obscure Ramones tracks, or buy my first single at eleven... I grew up on The Monkees, Simon and Garfunkel, Abba, CCR, and Queen. I'm pretty sure the first CD I ever bought was the Lion King soundtrack, and I didn't have a boom box (yes, that's what they were called back then) until I was in ninth grade. But when I fell in love with music, I fell in love with music.
I still remember the first time I was the only one who knew all the lyrics to a song (Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind), the first time I got a speeding ticket because I was driving to the music (Open Road Song by Eve6), the first festival I went to (Edgefest), the first time I fell in love with banjo (The Oaf by Big Wreck)... [Don't be too harsh on me, it was the 90s, and I was very much an Alternative kind o' gal when it came to music- I mean what else was I gonna listen to-The Backstreet Boys? shudder...]. I remember how good it felt having a song to go along with everything... and I remember discovering how crappy it felt when I let my music-listening fall by the wayside.
So no more of that. New Town, New Concerts. I hereby vow to never again let a band I like play within three hours of my house without going to see them. My life may be filled with Kraft dinner, but it will also be filled with awesome.
Welcome to A Mountain of Song
Unlike many music lovers, I was not born into it. I didn't sit in my crib listening to obscure Ramones tracks, or buy my first single at eleven... I grew up on The Monkees, Simon and Garfunkel, Abba, CCR, and Queen. I'm pretty sure the first CD I ever bought was the Lion King soundtrack, and I didn't have a boom box (yes, that's what they were called back then) until I was in ninth grade. But when I fell in love with music, I fell in love with music.
I still remember the first time I was the only one who knew all the lyrics to a song (Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind), the first time I got a speeding ticket because I was driving to the music (Open Road Song by Eve6), the first festival I went to (Edgefest), the first time I fell in love with banjo (The Oaf by Big Wreck)... [Don't be too harsh on me, it was the 90s, and I was very much an Alternative kind o' gal when it came to music- I mean what else was I gonna listen to-The Backstreet Boys? shudder...]. I remember how good it felt having a song to go along with everything... and I remember discovering how crappy it felt when I let my music-listening fall by the wayside.
So no more of that. New Town, New Concerts. I hereby vow to never again let a band I like play within three hours of my house without going to see them. My life may be filled with Kraft dinner, but it will also be filled with awesome.
Welcome to A Mountain of Song
The road divides ahead
Just wide awake in bed
Unaware of suspicious feelings happening again
His love went south, and he'll go west
A mountain of song couldn't fill that hole in his chest
That she left when she said that he was like the rest
So get up and get out
What're you down about?
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
So get up and get out
What're you down about?
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
The road divides ahead
Just wide awake in bed
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
Just wide awake in bed
Unaware of suspicious feelings happening again
His love went south, and he'll go west
A mountain of song couldn't fill that hole in his chest
That she left when she said that he was like the rest
So get up and get out
What're you down about?
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
So get up and get out
What're you down about?
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
The road divides ahead
Just wide awake in bed
Put it back on the shelf
Just have to go without again
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