Why Library Voices are louder in the valley...

 I’m sure we’ve all got albums that we always listen to in our car, or maybe only on the back deck, every day on the walk home, or when we’re stuck on the bus… Some albums just sound better in certain situations, just as some bands just put on a better show in particular cities. Usually there are places that just fit with certain groups (Cuff the Duke at Maverick’s in Ottawa, or Elliott Brood at La Sala Rosa in Montreal…) but there are a few magical venues where everyone puts on their best shows- where the crowds are consistently supportive, the mix is clear, and the beer is just the right price. It’s why bands are always better at hillside, always better at the Kee to Bala, and most of all, always better at the Black Sheep.

Now back in high school I often went to see the same band several days in a row, sometimes even several cities in a row. Now I’m not talking like Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto, here- I refuse to get on a plane to achieve this goal- but Toronto, Barrie, Bala is totally do-able, and Ottawa, Montreal is downright simple. I’ve recently revived this tradition going to both the Ottawa and Montreal legs of the last Elliot Brood tour, and most recently Library Voices, back to back- Tuesday at Casa in Montreal, and Wednesday at the Black Sheep in Wakefield Quebec.

The Montreal show was… interesting. Casa is the first place I ever saw Library Voices (my sister’s favourite band), a show that has become one of my all time top five concerts, but this time it was almost a completely different beast. Of course it looked the same and the pints of cider were still $4.00, but the crowd was quiet and standoffish (since when should there be a four foot buffer between the closest person and the stage?) and the band was- allright I’m just gonna say it- they were a little off. Over the course of their set I’m pretty sure every instrument on stage broke at least once, the songs didn’t seem to want to come out quite right, and Mike actually tipped over his stand sending various pedals and dials flying across the stage. When Carl said “So this is our last song” and someone in the audience said “nahhhhhhh” he replied, quite solemnly: “Yes. Yes it is.” It was just... odd.

Talking to the band the next night they described it variously as “Awful.”  “Just completely off.”  and “The worst show of this tour- by far.”  Everyone had a different suggestion as to why, but Carl’s was especially pragmatic: “sometimes you just have a crappy night, but I mean that’s how you know when its good, how would you ever know that you’d had a good night when you don’t have crappy ones to compare it to?”

I took it all in stride- after all I was seeing them again the next night- no big deal if the Montreal show was a bust- but my sister wasn’t so lucky. She’s moving overseas at the end of the summer and, as she put it after the show “that might have been the last time I see Library Voices in a very long time…!” she was a little broken up about it, and I don’t blame her… If I wasn’t seeing Elliott Brood for three years and their last show was the one at Maverick’s a few months back, I think I might have cried.

Needless to say the Wakefeild show was about a million times better (and no, that’s not hyperbole. It was actually, literally, a million times better). I took along two friends who had never seen Library Voices before (and in fact had not really even heard of them) and no one was to be disappointed! Like my first time seeing them, my friend Madelaine leaned over part way through the second song to say “I love them!” just as I had done.

They were On Fire. Opting for two sets of eight songs (perhaps because they had no openers? Their reasoning being “Because, I mean, why not? We’ve never done this before, lets see how it goes!”) they steamrollered through the first group, playing a mix of new material and old favourites. After the third song Mike had mentioned how much respect they always had for the audiences at the black sheep, and Carl had pointed out that, even all seated, we were a pretty excellent audience (allusions to the previous night’s crowd perhaps…?)  At ‘intermission’ I ended up standing at the merch booth right beside Carl and couldn’t help mentioning that they seemed a lot happier tonight. “I was at the Montreal show yesterday…” I volunteered “Oh.” Carl replied, making a face like he'd smelled something awful "oh…..” We talked a bit about how much more fun they were having at the Black Sheep, and how some days are just off days, and I mentioned that the night before had been my sister’s last show before she moves to Holland. “Oh no!” he exclaimed (no seriously, he actually exclaimed!) “Alright, we’re gonna do something for her after the show, come find me after the show!” And it was time for the second set…

Again mixing old favourites in with new stuff, they continued to bring down the house, getting everyone up and bopping after only a few songs, and reviving the Carl’s-ridiculous-dancing and drums-in-the-audience that had been sorely lacking from the previous night’s performance. Kundera, Genration Handclap, my personal favourite Step off the Map and Float, and their ever-excellent cover of the Misfits “Where Eagles Dare.” Carl dedicated Neil Young’s “Unknown Ledgend” to my sister ("a very special fan who is unfortunately not here tonight”) and they closed out the set to deafening applause. The usual “But guys, that’s all the songs we have….!” Didn’t work on the exuberant crowd, so Amanda Belted out a flawless rendition of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long," followed by Geroge Harrison’s “Got my Mind Set on You” and, when we still wouldn’t let them off the hook, the best version of “Jump Around” I have ever heard/seen/jumped to. By then they actually had exhausted all of the songs they knew, and we enthusiastically clapped, cheered, hooted and hollered in honour of an astounding performance.

After the show I found Carl (”I’m just gonna change out of this sweaty sweaty shirt…”) and spend a while talking with my friends about how much they’d enjoyed the show. He came back freshly changed, got me to re-tell the story of my-sister-and-the-Montreal-last-show to Mike the drummer and the bassist Eoin, while he collected the rest of the band outside… then got me to tell it to them as well.  They make a sign that read “We promise to come visit you in the Netherlands!” and all took photos with it. 

"We all look like zombies!"

Of course band-love is about the music. For me its even more about the live performance, the enthusiasm and the love of what they’re doing, but its times like these that make it really hard to ignore the role played by such outright friendliness, generosity and excitement. Sure I already loved Library Voices, but taking the time to make my sister just a little bit less sad about how much she’ll miss them? Takes ‘em from Good Band, to Good Band and Good People. Gotta love Canadian indie music…

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.

 

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.

Dry River Caravan at Wakefield's river valley inn, The Black Sheep Tavern

If you've never had the opportunity to catch a show at the Black Sheep Inn, you should plan a trip to Wakefield, Quebec in the very near future. I know I've extolled its virtures before, but the small town surroundings, friendly people,  fantastic food, and local brews make the perfect backdrop for many a quietly rambunctious musical experience. The Black Sheep is known for hosting bands as varied in home towns as they are in musical styles, and they always knock it out of the park.

Last Friday the staged was graced by local Ottawa outfit Dry River Caravan supported by The Opposite of Everything out of Toronto. I should preface this review by saying that the last show I saw at The Black Sheep was an unqualified success with Montreal's Lake of Stew warming up the crowd for banjoman extraordinaire Old Man Luedecke, and reciving the only opening-band-encore I have ever experienced. Needless to say the bar was set rather high... Had I not had this in the back of my mind the Opposite of Everything may have impressed me more, but alas it was not the case.
All the pieces were certainly there- the eclectic mix of klesmer and bluegrass combined with Indian and African rhythms provided an interesting base, but the songs just didn't seem to come together.  The individual members of the band were fantastic musicians (Particularly John Williams on Clarinet and Harmonica)- and each looked as if they were having a great time up on stage- but again the pieces didn't really seem to come together.  Lead singer Jaron Freeman-Fox and accordion/keys player Johnny Spence even physically collided with each other on several occasions (and not in that we're-so-excited-we-bash-into-each-other-on-purpose kind of excellent way, more in a hey-I-didn't-see you-there-cuz-I'm-off-in-my-own-world kind of a way...).  The overall performance, while clearly showing immense amounts of promise, seemed in need of a healthy dose of practice and significantly more direction. From reading other reviews of their live show I am inclined to think they were just having a bit of an off night, so I would certainly give them another chance, but this was far from the best performance I've ever seen...

In striking contrast were headliners Dry River Caravan. I first came across this local group at one of Ottawa's gigantic neighborhood street sales and instantly fell in love with their music. An interesting mix of several folky-styles my enjoyment of the music was helped along by their engaging smiles and never ending enthusiasm- not many people can play an eight-hour garage sale and still be smiling by the end of it! This was my first opportunity to see them playing in a more traditional indoor-setting.

The very definition of a group, the members of Dry River Caravan fed off of each other in every aspect of their performance. Robin Meyer-MacLeod did not seem to be able to wipe the smile off of his face through singing, clarinet playing and happy-dancing, and bouzouki player Matt Smith is quite possibly one of the most entertainingly into-it performers I have ever seen, even looking like he was going to openly weep during several melodramatic moments. John Cockburn's beautifully charismatic voice and energetic acordioning provided the anchor lacking in the opener's performance, and Daniel Grewal on upright bass,  Liam Smith on drums , and the guest trumepteer beautifully rounded out the group.

After getting off to a slow start, they soon won the crowd over and had several members of the audience making up impromptu dance routines and cheers. Mixing klezmer, bluegrass, and folk with sweeping narratives and an energetic performance, there could not have been a more perfect compliment to the swirling snow outside, the cold beers, and the friendly crowd.

I will certainly be keeping an eye out for future shows by both bands- a sure-thing from Dry River Caravan, and a second look at The Opposite of Everything.

The Opposite of the Bluegrass Blues...

Have I mentioned that I have fairly recently discovered that I adore bluegrass music? I put it that way, because I am pretty sure I've loved it for a while, I just had this mind-block about liking country (aka country is the best kind of music to not-like...), but I think I was only lying to myself. Cuz bluegrass is amazing.

Yesterday I got to experience two firsts and a wonderful... twentieth? eighteenth? (I'm not really sure actually...) It was my first time at the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, my first time seeing (or even ever hearing of) Lake of Stew and my many many many-th time seeing the incomparable Old Man Luedecke.

So The Black Sheep Inn. I've heard tell of its awesomeness via our loverly CBC radio, but had yet to experience it for myself. Now I've been to a lot of new (to me) venues over the past year, from the good (La Sala Rosa, Irene's)  to the okay (the Bronson Centre), the awesome (Raw Sugar), and the pretty awful (I'm sorry Maverick's but your sound quality is just bad!), and the Black Sheep Inn is pretty tops. Sitting down without feeling stuffy (comfy chairs, good sized tables and standing room in back), good food and beer (mmmmm burgers...), not too loud (you can talk without shouting or feeling like you're interrupting the show), good sound (small enough to hear it mostly from the stage, but a good system too), and a great crowd (whom you get the feeling have been putting a shine on the bar for years..) this place is a great location to see live music.  (Elliott Brood there in January- can't wait!)

So last night we started off with Lake of Stew- and a better starter could not have been had! One of those five-seconds-in-you-already-know-you-love-them kind of bands- at least for me, the rest of my table, and most of the audience, judging by the explosive applause (and the first time I have ever seen an opener do an encore!). Bluegrass to the absolute core, this Montreal-based ensemble boasts a wash-tub bass, harmonica, mandolin, banjo (of course), guitar, accordion, kazoo and washboard-percussion-section (you'd think maybe I have a bit of a thing for bands with weird instruments... did someone say Graveyard Train?). With oddly old-timey voices to match their oddly old-timey instruments, these guys really know how to rock out hillbilly style (which, believe it or not I mean as a compliment!). They are so down-home its almost hard to believe they hail from such a big city. Part of that is the feeling that you're just hangin' out in someone's [very big] living room, listening to a bunch of friends improv songs about food, love, and guys who almost were sorta kinda good at track back in high school. I swear they could get an adamant country-music-hater slapping their knee after a song or two- something I will remember in future should I encounter such a person...

Lake of Stew  also just recently recorded an EP with Old Man Luedecke so he joined them for three or four songs at the end (including the aforementioned encore). It was nice to see two bands playing together and feeding off of one anothers' groove (almost like a workshop sessions at the hillside festival)- I wish more bands would do that...

Which brings us to Chris Luedecke- I've actually been seeing him perform for years (almost six years I think?) but he never ceases to impress me. His banjo playing is always astounding, but its his storytelling skillz that bring everything together. Whether its through the lyrics or the best between-song banter you'll ever experience (especially impressive as he is up there all alone...) you'll soon find yourself smiling your face off. Watching him perform is particularly odd for me as I often get flashbacks (I tried to think of a different word to use there cuz that makes me sound like I'm in some sort of horrible superhero tv show, but alas it is the only one which seems to appropriately describe them...) to the first time I heard him play whichever song he is about to perform. I was there for so many of the "This is the first time I've played this at a show" times that it feels like I've been watching his journey as an artist... I know that sounds super sappy, and I am a little embarrassed at having written it, but Chris is just so adorable (and amazingly talented and friendly etc etc etc) that its difficult to not get a little soppy when talking about him.

There's just something about the simplicity and the, lets face it, friendliness, of bluegrass that really gets to you, especially when you consider its actual complexity, and sometimes deceptively serious subject matter. If you're one of those people who finds themselves sitting on the 'I Hate Country/I Tap My Foot to Johnny Cash' fence, check out Lake of Stew or Old Man Luedecke in concert and I all but guarantee you'll find yourself in a field of  'I Love Bluegrass'