Cowboys and Wheelers

Moving to Ottawa seems to have had the pleasant side effect of making me like numerous Francophone bands... First Coeur de Pirate, then Karkwa and Marie Pierre Arthur, and now the newest addition to the list- Les Cowboys Fringantes, introduction courtesy of my friend Madelaine, and solidification of love via their Francofest performance this past Thursday.

I am a huge supporter of cultivating informed music exchanges- always an incredibly satisfying and effective experience, well worth the time and effort. By this I mean, of course, really paying attention to why your friends like the music they like, and being really specific about why you like the music you like, then making thoughtful recommendations to one another! Sounds pretty straight forward, but you would be surprised at how many people recommend music based on what they like, not what they think you'll like (regardless of the number of times you have had conversations about why you don't like INSERT BAND NAME HERE). If, however, you are lucky enough to have friends who actually remember past conversations, the exchange goes a little more like this:

Madelaine: "I think you'll like this band because they play lots of fun instruments, they have energetic music, they are really funny, and they're political in an anti-conservative kind of way... all things you enjoy!"
Me: "yes. that seems like a very accurate assesment Madelaine, I will certainly attend this spectacle avec toi!" (Alright, so I didn't sound quite so formal or quite so vaguely multi-lingual, but you get the idea.)

They do play lots of fun and random instruments (even melodica, my favourite!)
They are remarkable energetic- I almost had difficulty keeping up with them, and after an hour of psudo-french-folk-dancing/jumping up and down, it was all I could do to drag myself to McDs for an ice cream sundae...
They were really funny, and in that excellent goofy way which involves running around like overgrown children, playing jump rope with the mic cords and dancing like idiots...
And anti-conservative (specifically anti conservative-arts-cutback) they most certainly were. That was an interesting experience, surrounded by francophones, a stones throw away from parliament, yelling things at Stephen Harper... one of those moments you feel like you're slightly removed from whats going on around you, but easily get caught up in it anyways...

Anyways, long story short (yeah right, me? I'll try) I greatly enjoyed singing along to songs that felt familiar even though I'd never heard them, dancing my feet off for over an hour, and cheering in the midst of a sea of glowsticks and plastic beer cups. Highly recommended.

Unfortunately I didn't get any good pics of the show, but I thought I might still share a photo I took of the absolutely completely terrifying pre-show entertainment (if running away screaming is entertainment...)

They were like a combination of the Weeping Angels from Dr Who, and the Wheelers from Return to OZ, two of the most traumatically nightmarish fictional monsters of all time- and no, just because I am all growed up does not mean I am not still disproportionately terrified by simple-special-effects-monsters... or lemurs (though that's another story for another day...). And I wasn't the only one! So many screams of fright and running-away-incidents (from other grown adults, might I add) that they actually used different costumes the next day... Just glad I escaped their evil grasp...*shudder*

At any rate, the evening was a rousing success, thanks to the energetic entertainment and despite the nightmare monsters. I think I see more Francophone concerts in my future...!

"We Love You Montreal!"

Sometimes you go to an event, for me usually a concert, and you get this weird feeling, this feeling that this is one of those things that you're going to tell your kids about. That you're going to get to say "I was there when..." This was one of those things: Aracde Fire and Karkwa, Free in Montreal.

Alright so I already love Arcade Fire, and I already love Karkwa... and this show was free. So it was a pretty easy sell. But I didn't really count on how easy a sell it would be... to everyone. I have never seen so many people at a show. They closed down Places des Arts. They re-routed the busses. They handed out free water. And it was so worth it.

The concert was great. The music was great, the sound quality was great, the video was great (I felt like I could see everything despite being behind three trees...). The vibe was great ( I feel like a dork saying 'vibe' but all alternatives sound even lamer... so the 'vibe' was great). Everyone was in such a great mood, people were singing and dancing together, talking with random strangers, being pleasant and happy... Of course the fact that it was all free didn't hurt, but I can't help but feel that having that many people being that happy in that small a space, makes everything seem just a little bit better. The air sweeter, the water taste better, everyone friendlier...

There was a moment right at the end where they released dozens of giant glowing balloons into the crowd, and there was a great gasp. An actual audible collective gasp. It was fantastic. and when I tell my kids about that show, its not the video or the lights or even the balloons that will get the spotlight- it will be the dancing, the singing, and the gasp. Hearing tens of thousands of people simultaneously gasping in delight. Perfect.

"We have reached a crossroads...

...the crossroads between 'Lame' and 'Awesome.' The sign pointing that way says 'Lame.' The sign pointing this way says 'Awesome.' I know which way I'm going...!"




So my sister has been putting a plan into action the past few months- no not a secret plan to fight inflation- but a secret plan none the less. She has been conspiring to make me like all of her favourite bands. And it worked.

Tonight I went to see 'Said the Whale' and "Rah Rah'. Two of 'Krista's bands' that she has been putting on mixed cds since January. Two bands that I never knew existed a few months ago, and now feel like I've been listening to for forever. Even better she's gotten my roomate loving these bands as well! Always nice when you don't have to drag someone along, but can just tell them who is playing and they jump at the chance :o)

We had a great time. The show was awesome (see quote at the top. They weren't kiddin- they chose the awesome path) and of course it got me into the whole "Oh I love live music... live music... concerts... I love them so!" and the thinking, wondering about how there are people out there who possibly don't share that sentiment... I mean as I've said on many occasions- I get it academically speaking. I mean I don't like green peppers, they don't like concerts. Fine. There are reasons- your feet hurt, your voice goes hoarse, you're super tired the next day... (more on that in my next post!) but man is it worth it.  Its so much more than just listening to music in a room with a bunch of people you don't know- the vibe (not to sounds lame but yes, the vibe) at a good concert is such a rush. Everyone having a great time, singing along, dancing and jumping...  and seeing the band grinning from ear to ear ("The only thing I don't like about tonight is that my face hurts because I can't stop smiling! you guys are amazing!" observed Ben Worcester) having a fantastic time ("this is so short! I mean it went by so fast! ... that's a good thing by the way, it means we're having fun up here!" said Tyler Bancroft) just makes it even better. Like when we saw Karkwa at hillside and the lead singer could not stop giggling at the seventeen year olds rocking out in the front row- you could tell he thought it was hilarious. Or the look on the faces of Graveyard Train when our crowd started moshing and crazy-dancing- the next day they tweeted "Best show ever- we got the Canadians crowd surfing!" To know that its not just you, or even just the rest of the audience who is feeling that (again, please excuse the cheese) magical serendipitous feeling...

In other words its the whole experience. Sharing that time, that space, that experience with a roomful of other people you don't even know, but who you have at least one thing in common with... its golden. Simply golden.

Camilo (the magician) by Said The Whale

Death Country, Chains, and Group Wonderment

I am in love.

Not with a person. That too normal, too plain. I am in love with six (or it it seven?) persons- though I suppose perhaps more accurately I am in love with their band...

I tend to get a little excited about music (understatement? yes. super-excited? more accurate). If you know me at all (or have, like, ever read this blog) you would not be at all surprised by that statement. You might, however, be surprised to know that, of my experiences of falling in love with bands, the sudden, immediate, 'holy crap who the hell is this?' ones are surprisingly few. Now I suppose this makes sense as you don't often go to see a band live unless you've at least hear of them, but the magic of music festivals lies exactly in creating such opportunities for discovery and love-falling-in. In seeing bands perform whom you've never heard of and would otherwise have never been exposed to. I've written before about the first time I saw Arcade Fire, the 'ummmmm who is this? because they kind of freakin rock... ' vibe and how that was the first and only time I've ever seen that happen to a whole field-full of people at exactly the same time... well that story must now be amended, for I have once again been privileged to be a part of a room-full (or in this case tent-full) of people simultaneously falling in love with a band. And that band is Graveyard Train.

They classify themselves as 'horror-country' (strikingly similar to the self-moniker of 'death-country' used by one of my all-time favourites Elliot Brood) and are a crazy-awesome mix of a tumble-weed-covered-frontier-town-saloon crossed with chain-gang-running-from-a-pack-of-zombies. K and I spent the weekend discussing the awesomeness of their man-choir voices and their amazing choice of instruments (steel guitar, slide guitar, banjo, stand-up bass and chains. yes chains. played with a hammer.) and going to see them as many times as possible (three times in three days was almost not enough!) but the part that stands out most for me was the first twenty seconds of the first song I ever heard them play.

At Hillside there are main-stage and side-stage performances, but there are also workshops where bands who have never met, and often never even heard of each other, get together and jam. The regular performances are usually pretty durn awesome,  but the jam sessions are where the unexpected, unprecedented, and totally magical become common place. We had just gone to see Karkwa who were amaaaazing (and will soon have their whole own blogpost I'm sure...) and they were playing a workshop later on that evening in one of the tents, so we headed on over. It turned out they were going to be jamming with a band from Australia (Australian meets Quebequois was to be a theme for the weekend) who looked like they had just stepped off of a wagon train. I was already pretty excited when I saw the banjo and the steel guitar, but nothing could have prepared me for the music...

They came on stage. They picked up their instruments ("Is that guy holding a chain!?!" "Which guy?" "The one in the dirty tank-top, suspenders, and work-pant cut-offs..."). The lead singer tipped his hat. They started singing. Holy. Shit.

We were hit by the wall of sound of five men (manly men. dirty men. men men) stretched out in a line across the stage, belting out harmonies the likes of which have not seen the light of day since 1879. We stood stunned. The whole tent stood stunned. There was a stunned silence, literally. (Well not quite literally as there was the music... but other than the music there was a stunned silence.) Eight seconds, nine seconds... I turned to K, she was looking back at me; "Who the fuck are these guys!?!" We looked around. Everyone looked around. We were all turning to the side and saying the exact same thing...

Twelve seconds... a murmur sweeps the tent...

Fifteen seconds... everyone's head starts to move up and down. shoulders shrugging in rhythm...

Eighteen seconds... feet tapping, hands clapping...

Twenty seconds... I am in love.

It got even better as the song went on. It got even better with each song. Karkwa joined in and it got even better and better. After they were finished I speed-walked to the merch tent and straight up to the table, picked up their CD and handed it to the girl behind the counter: "I need this one." I was sad when it was over, but super excited that I would get to watch them again the next day, and again the day after that... Even more excited when the same experience was repeated two more times, with the slight modification of a growing crowd at the front of those of us already-converted, and a diminishing crowd of first-timers sitting in-behind, wondering at why we were all so excited (until they experienced their own first-twenty-seconds and joined the ranks of the initiated).

Its a pretty magical thing to be a part of an amazing concert and even more so one where so many people are seeing a band for the first time and falling in love with them. Scratch that, its DAMN FINE. It a damn fine thing to have such a wonderful group experience- and to get to have it again and again three days in a row.

Thank you Hillside. Thank you Graveyard Train. Thank you tent-people with whom I got to share this! Now disperse and spread the word... music is a wonderful thing.

The Accidental Loving of Something Well Known Somewhere Else

I'm not hipster (ok I do have a few pairs of neon nylons and a collection of fake Raybans but really, who doesn't?) but I'm not the biggest fan of popular music. Sure I like Lady Gaga (again, who doesn't?), but most of the bands I absolutely love are either too small/local to be well known or were big decades ago (some decades before I was born...). I could go on for years and years about the fantastic amazingness of Elliot Brood, The Decemberists, Old Man Leudecke, CCR, Queen, or Zeus, but nine times out of ten the person I'm talking to has either never heard of them, or has the vague sense that their 'dad used to listen to that band when he was a teenager.' This doesn't bother me, in fact I kind of enjoy having these bands kind of to myself (though I much more enjoy introducing someone to one of them and having it become one of their favourite bands...!) but I even more enjoy having the experience of finding out that one of my bands is actually a favourite of millions of other people- just not the people I'm usually around!

I had two such experiences this week:

I am currently working on a show that has all Canadian music playing right up until it starts. Its not the same music every day, and I am quite the fan of Canadian music, so I tend to be able to sing along with most of the songs. The other day one came on that I loved right from the first or second bar. It took many 'yes reeeeeally's from my friend to convince me that, not only had he also no idea at all who it was, but that they were in fact singing in French. There are a few french/Quebecquois band I like (Couer de Pirate  not least amongst them!) but this band sounded like an anglophone indie band, one I not only liked, but liked enough that I was completely confused as to why I did not already own all of their music.

With some help from the fancy iphone app of another friend we were able to ascertain that this band was in fact Karkwa... who won the Polaris Prize last year. Who are one of the top indie bands in Quebec. Who played in Paris with the Arcade Fire and out-reviewed them... even though none of the three of us had ever heard them, there were thousands of people out there in the world who already adored them. I love it when that happens! When you happen upon a new band and find that they're only unknown where you are, that somewhere else they're huge, or at least well enough known and respected to win the biggest music prize in Canada... I got their album online. I am listening to it right now. For the fourth straight time in a row. So new favourite band, check.

The second such experience was having the chance to see John Fogerty perform live. I was talking to a co-worker just as he got started and she actually said 'yeah, I don't know who that is... I mean maybe I would recognize some of the songs if I heard them..." !?! for serious? ok, ok, I've spent most of my life trying to explain to people my age why CCR is so incredibly awesome, and how I wouldn't even be very sad to miss other music if they were the only band I could ever listen to for the rest of my life... but it still floors me when someone doesn't know that they wrote 'Proud Mary' (The first time I heard the Tina Turner version I literally cringed. I mean visibly. I shuddered. I've gotten used to it- kinda- over time, but I still hear Fogerty singing over Tina every time...) or Suzie Q. Who doesn't know Suzie Q? And Born on the Bayou? Apparently lots of people don't. But none of them were rockin' out at bluesfest yesterday.

I didn't get to see too much of the show (though I got to hear all of it!) but the part I did spend out in the crowd was amazing. As a kid listening to CCR I never thought that I would actually get to see them (well one of them anyways) perform live. Like Queen or ABBA I just always kind of assumed that they were long dead and gone just like the rest of my growing-up bands (though having said that I did get to watch an hour long Paul McCartney sound check a few years back and had a similar 'this is soooo weird' feeling). So getting to, not only watch and listen to Fogerty perform, but be surrounded by truckloads of people who were just as into it, just as excited about it, just as 'Oh my god, Its John Fogerty!!!' as I was was pretty 'effin awesome.

Sometimes its nice to feel like you like bands that are just yours... but sometimes its nice to really feel like you're tapping into something that's already there, sharing the awesomeness of the music with an already existing community of like-minded and like-excited folk. This week I've been diggin' that second kind of sometimes.