Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Tuesday's Scattershots...


Ghislian Poirier doesn't sleep - he stays up all night in a studio, eating Vietnamese take-out and painfully splicing together seemingly disparate Bali beats and melodies from obscure nooks and crannies into headphone-ready mixes, like the most recent one. Head to www.ghislainpoirier.com, go to the audio section and download his Masala Mix.




I'll be accompanying Islands as they re-trace an inverted route of Shermann's March (through the North this time), ending with a 7th of December burning of Boston. Dates below.


December 1st Toronto, Drake Hotel
December 2nd Chicago, Beat Kitchen
December 3rd Dayton, Ohio, Elbo's
December 4th Oberlin, Ohio, Oberlin College
December 5th Philadelphia, First Unitarian Church
December 6th New York, Knitting Factory
December 7th Boston, YWCA

Everyone's especially looking forward to that date in Oberlin, the Paris of the Midwest...



There's a new Hot Chip track available at headphone sex, paired with a Clor mp3. (I remember hearing some noise about them on some blogs, but the singer's vocals turned me off, and though Scott had been pushing for them to play Pop Montreal this year, they weren't able to make it out) Sounds great...





Ash Ra Tempel - Darknesss: Flowers Must Die.mp3

A twelve minute long free-jam/rumination on the changing of the seasons and the claustrophobia experienced by the human psyche (post-industrial) by kraut-kosmische frau-rockers. Darkness descends slowly, you know, with bongos and the droning moan and mumbling one would expect from an associate of Damo Suzuki, and then in a moment straight out of the Aphrodite's Child playbook (without that kitschy scene of melodrama), the listener is uhh, swept up in some frosty kossack ride across the bleak and frozen tundra. Horses' hooves! Unsheathed swords! Squealing saxophones! Phased guitar lines! I think the vocalist says something to the effect of "I want you to dig me a scone."



I ended up heading home early, reading Variety (did you know they call Presidents "prixers?"), watching a bit of The Mulroney Tapes on CBC and finding myself sympathizing with the old Irish bastard, believing that perhaps, just perhaps, if he hadn't been sold out by Wells, the Meech Lake Accord would have passed and we wouldn't have ended up in the decade to decade cycle of recurring sovereignity referendums that we look to be in right now. Now, though I think of myself as somewhat politically savvy, I know very little, if anything at all, about the Meech Lake Accord, and my only memories of Mulroney were that he was a reprehensible and smug bastard loathed by both my exceedingly conservative grandfather and the left alike, that he introduced the much-detested GST and NAFTA, so I'll chalk up my reaction to his charisma and his rich baritone. Anyway, I fell asleep halfway through the program, so I'll never know if history vindicated him...

Monday, November 21, 2005

Concept Albums, Wizard-Capes and Synthesizers.





The Besnard Lakes, psych-heavy overlords and Hawkwind fans till the end (Olga and Jace's collection of rare Pink Fairies bootlegs is spoken of in hush and reverent terms by a more than a few aging British men) have things afoot, covert plans underway, machinations set in motion, and what not. Namely, an expansive and well-crafted sophomore album The Dark Horse that stretches out, laying texture upon texture, a studio gem recorded by the group at their own breakglass studios (also where albums by Islands and Land of Talk were recently recorded), and awaiting release by one of a number of hungry labels who've shown interest in mid-wifing it.

Are there things afoot in Canada, beyond the Wolf explosions and Pony corralling? Something that leans to the more skewed side of prog and psych re-interpretations, broader in scope than the Paisley Underground of the mid-80s? The Black Mountain Army have a corps comprised of intergalactic traveller Sinoia Caves (solo project of one rock archivist named Jeremy, formerly of Orphan and Pipedream, his album out on Global Symphonic), godhead Black Mountain, and masturbatory (literally) solo project Pink Mountaintops, and are often joined on their voyages to the astral plane by Ladyhawk, while in Toronto, The Diableros might not have mastered a sense of historically-indebted graphic design (no melting walls, blotter acid graphics, Dali-esque landscapes or skewed Victorian lithographs to be found here, sadly), but have managed to invoke the musical spirit of a time when men tied scarves 'round their necks and sang of adventurous spices. (A number of years after that was popularized by pirates, of course.) And Dan Snaith, aka Caribou's road to Damascus-like conversion from glitchy laptop egghead to seeker of transcendent soundscapes, accepting seagull sounds as a convention to relish, not run from? What of that?

I could be forcing the point here, of course - trying to seek out a common ground between disparate groups, packing them all together on the basis of a shared nationality and awareness of S.F. Sorrow, committing the same crime as that of the recurring rock crit fantasy, the much-ballyhooed shoegazer resurrection, which, like an ethereal Godot, seems always so close, practically there, but never materializes. Bah, either way, an appropriately measured dose of come-down psych has been uploaded for you to get a kick out of, and as my roommate whistles the melody every fucking morning, I swear you'll love it.


The Besnard Lakes - Disaster.mp3



Additional Notes

Some of those previously mentioned British men might be behind the Static Caravan label, which has a two-song 10" now available for pre-order. And you can always order a copy of their first album Volume 1 from the group directly.

Jace & Olga also host a weekly DJ night at Korova, which, I kid you not, has beared witness to a playing of the entire third side of Yes' Tales From Topographic Oceans to a half-packed bar. If you're aching for prog-rock punishment, head to 3908 St. Laurent anytime after 10pm.





Brian Eno - St. Elmo's Fire.mp3

I don't know if it's because I'm incapable of making some grand leap over to a new vista of aesthetics and discovery that I have found little that strikes me from Brian Eno's recent work as I have in the past. And while he seems a more interesting and fully developed human being, at least from interviews I've read or heard, his music seems lacking. Spinning Away, one of the better songs I've heard from his later releases (in this case, Wrong Way Up, a 1990 album with John Cale), was unfortunately covered by kitsch-hockers Sugar Ray, for the soundtrack to the nauseating film The Beach, so that's all ruined for me, and his most recent album Another Day On earth suffered from some sort of datedness - it sounded like he recorded the album in a technical college in Brighton in 1991 with a bunch of nerds from the Communications program, one of whom had an affinity for trip-hop, despite proclamations that this would be a "return to form." At least we have Another Green World, the album from which the above song is from: a record a lot older than I am and one that still sounds fresh enough to keep one hoping for something on par with every release.
Buy it at Insound!

Bold Saber, live.

Accomplished comic artist, earnest defender of the nostalgic faith, and Royal Art Lodger Drue Langlois fronts Bold Saber. They'll be performing in their all-Winnipeg formation tomorrow night at the VAV Gallery, located in that hub of Anglo intrusion, the Visual Arts building of Concordia University. The only local group who can convincingly call to mind The Ronettes and Roxy Music, while singing of car crashes, synchronized swimming, and the hallucinatory Aztec visions of third-year Mcgill history students.


Xplosions Of The Fantastic Vernissage
Tuesday, November 22nd
gratuit! - 7pm - 11pm
w/ Blunderspublik and Hexes & Ohs
1395 Rene Levesque

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Grab-Bag.



Not the same Soul Searchers...

Arguably the best song you'll hear all week, unless you're some sort of go-go archivist, in which case, please contact me and tell me how the hell I can get my hands on some of the more elusive go-go shit.


Chuck Brown & The Soul Searchers - Blow Your Whistle.mp3

AIDS Wolf


AIDS Wolf, massive fans of Merchant Ivory films, pay homage to 1973's The Savages.

I ran into Beaver in front of McGill a couple of days ago, his bag full of loot from the burning house of CD Esoterik, returning home to put the finishing touches on his album. He had an advance copy of the new AIDS Wolf record - the packaging looked amazing, and yep, one of those infamous nude photos (taken by local aperture master Yannick Grandmont) is smack dab in the middle of the four-part fold-out liner notes. Pre-order the album from Love Pump United here.

AIDS Wolf - Multiply.mp3


The quartet is playing this Friday, part of a benefit for label-mates DBMQ, who were recently in a tragic car accident. Lend your support and cash, there are details here.

@ Zoobizarre, 6388 St. Hubert. 21h, $10. w/ Duchess Says, Dead Messenger, and Ex-Girlfriend.

Buy it at Insound!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Bring your tracksuit and gold chains...



Local hip-hop impressario producer Ghislain Poirier is set to expand his sphere of influnce internationally in the next little while, beyond the influential critics (Wire magazine, f'Christ's sake) and heads that tout his dirty, mammoth production style and musicians that collaborate with him or demand his remixing services (Les Georges Leningrad!), as he tours with pint-sized puntess Lady Sovereign and infiltrates the fickle, fickle minds of the modern day hip-hop consumer. (The two will be back in Montreal on December 2nd for a performance at La Tulipe.)


Ghislain Poirier - Cold as Hell, feat. Beans.mp3
Beans is basically the southern poster boy for cross-border cultural exchanges - touring with the Unicorns, collaborating with Holy Fuck, and this heavy, abstract cut, available on 12" through Chocolate Industries

Lady Sovereign - Fiddle With The Volume (Ghislain Poirier remix).mp3
Ghislain remixed this for the new Lady Sov album, adding some nice echoed synth-stabs, flushing out the original.



BOUNCE LE GROS V.4 Saturday, November 26th

And locally, Ghislain is still cramming his crates of beats into the above-ground wine-cellar that is Zoobizarre. Not this Saturday but the next (that's the 26th) he's got Fader writer and blogger Nick Catchdubs up from NYC, along with a surprise guest, for another night of BOUNCE LE GROS, which presents dancehall to ragga to electro-worshipping hip-hop to every barely tapped resource of new and innovative stuff in between. Bring your tracksuit and gold chains.
at Zoobizarre, 6388 St. Hubert (corner of St. Hubert and Beaubien)
22h, $5


Check the master's website for more specifics on his tours and releases, and more downloads.
Buy it at Insound!

Monday, November 14, 2005

Celebration & Get Hustle



photo by Mindy Tucker!


I've heard it said before that Baltimore is where white people who live in Washington, DC actually live. It very well could be, I've never been there. and unfortunately I've never seen recent 4ad signees Celebration reside in that city. They played last week in Montreal with Brooklyn's Calla, but for some reason, I ended up watching Guelph's favourite prairie rockers, The Constantines, who conjured up images of endless, drab and beige landscapes.

Outside of the physical confines of Baltimore, Celebration spend some time in a murky underworld of N. American music, which shares stylistic similarities with the world of goth music, though tactfully avoiding the kitsch and cliché that weighs down the buckle-booted and leather-strapped. (It seems like a nice even split - they have their Fields of the Nephilim, and on the other side, another strand of developement: Slaves/Pleasure Forever and associated groups (VSS, the dubby Subpoena The Past, Lion Fever, let's even say Angelhair), and occasionally the two meet and talk about Bauhaus...)

The group have been around over a number of years, existing as Lovelife and Birdland, before settling upon a three piece line-up, sticking with a moniker, and finally getting some recognition. Keen observers might notice that Celebration and The Get Hustle share more than aesthetic similarities - singers Katrina and Valentine have the same husky and hounded voice found in post-punk foremothers such as Ari Up or Siouxsie Sioux. Incidentally, The Get Hustle released an album a couple of days ago on 31g.


Celebration-War.mp3
The Get Hustle - Pharoah's Horses
ADDENDA Portland, Oregon's G. Candy fit quite nicely, too... A newer track.
Glass Candy & the Shattered Theatre - Iko.mp3

Buy it at Insound!



It's a good week for getting in touch with your spirit animal.

Tuesday at Le Divan Orange, 4234 St-Laurent
Emboldened psychotropic voyageurs The Besnard Lakes will be presenting another chapter in their intergalactic space opera tomorrow night at Le Divan Orange, along with fellow travellers The Kickers and Bionic. Cover is pay what you can...

Wednesday at Friendship Cove, 215 Murray St
The Unireverse, beloved Damo Suzuki collabos, hot off of this weekend's scintillating GROOVE WAGON (eeeerk) with Islands' Jammie Thompson will be opening up a night of primordial klink, scrape and pummel with Dreamcatcher and The Shalabi Effect.

Friday at The Main Hall, 5390 St. Laurent
I always avoided listening to Holy Fuck, not being much of a fan of The Remains of Brian Borcherdt, but this is one of the best things that I've heard from Toronto for a long time, or so it seemed, halfway through Pop Montreal, when I caught the tail end of their set. Tape-loops, rhythm-oriented noise. The Unireverse and Land of Talk, fronted by Outremont's favourite peeping tom, Elizabeth Powell, open.




As December hits, all of NY will no doubt be talking about the scheduled week-long Montreal invasion, beginning with Telefauna's stateside debut at Pianos with fellow city-dwellers The Hot Springs on the 1st, and ending with Islands' Knitting Factory show on the 6th. There's two warm-ups as Montrealer Ghislain Poirier opens for British hip-hop princess Lady Sovereign, who will, hopefully, stay away from McDonalds' prior to the performance, and We Are Wolves are performing at the Mercury Lounge on November 26th with honourary Montrealers Mixel Pixel.

Friday, November 04, 2005

EUROPHILIC


The last couple of weeks I've been salivating over Modeselektor, Gernot Bronsert and Sebastian Szarya, two German heads that have me salivating for more of their sliced electro-hip-hop dub-studio wizardry. If there's a holy trinity of EU hip-hop for me, it's comprised of The Father, Roots Manuva; The Son, TTC; and The Holy Ghost, Modeselektor. Over the next couple days, I've have some Modeselektor, along with some Swayzak, Bpitch Control, the final MEG wrap-up stuff (Ashley Dynamo Wong has a great bit with an Adult. interview on the Pop Montreal webzine that everyone should check), and that four-band-fuck-fest post (Paper Cranes et al.), too. Also, some news concerning a new monthly best-guest night that'll be navigating the city and hitting up random new spots. Gentrification Now! 'Ight, enjoy yr weekend, maybe I'll see you all at Zoobizarre for Indian Jewelry and pals. Below, some Jeans Team for you...

Jeans Team - Oh Bauer.mp3

Buy it at Insound!

Thursday, November 03, 2005

MEG Thursday



FAKE DJing


The MEG Festival was a blur that, following my personal tradition, began with too much boozing, too many late nights, topped off with crippling sickness that saw me bed-stricken for three days straight, sweating, coughing and bemoaning the inherent genetic stupidity that drives me to self-abuse. Cursing my ancestors, too.
THURSDAY
On Thursday I managed to catch Detroit's GENDERS: they hit up that pre-pre-pre 808 Suicide vs. YMGiants scouring the dub forest sound, akin to what Seattle's CHROMATICS get up to, when they're not busy re-arranging their line-up. Alex Auche, beloved co-programmer of the festival (along with Alex Lemieux) and Zoobizarre head (along with Alex Lemieux) managed to bring in his friends SISTER IODINE from France, and they were easily one of the highlights in a festival where it was hard to pick favourites. A caucophonous run-through of noise n' textured soundscapes served well by the unique acoustics of the SAT room. Lionel Fernandez of the group is involved with the büro organization in Paris, who seem a wonderful compliment to the work and aesthetics of the two Alexes (Alex'?) here in Montreal.

DER PLAN raised the bar with a set of uber-theatrical Tiki-soaked kraut kitsch that was equally parts baffling and delightful, if such a word can be used to describe something slightly sinister and of a more serious intent than I'm able to articulate. Patrick Vezina, now in Berlin, had been hyping up the group prior to his departure, and either it fell on some understanding ears, or the French kids in this city are fourty times hipper than the Anglo outsiders who invade their neighbourhoods and jack their rent up.

I was forcing myself to have a good time during ADULT, which isn't a good sign. I didn't have that high of expectations, and once I put it into my head that this group was, like a lot of electronic music (though not necessarily electro), more about texture than songwriting, it sat easier with me. Exhaustion forced me away from the venue prior to OPTIMO's set, which I had earmarked as one of the highlights for the festival, unfortunately. I also missed the DUCHESS SAYS and CALL ME POUPEE afternoon double-bill, an aggravating little oversight on my part - I'd been eager to see CALL ME POUPEE in their new incarnation as a three piece.

...More wrap-up stuff tomorrow.

SUNRISE! BLACK!



THE WAGES OF SIN?

There's a five song demo of some rough and new Besnard Lakes material that's been hanging about the office recently, and the first track is an all-out swish that merges the best of The Beach Boys with Spiritualized. Until I get some permission to put some of that up here, you'll just have to imagine how truly astonishing it sounds. But don't worry, I'll ask soon.

The Nightlife continue their quest for market saturation/national domination with the launch of their new website... First 2500 free subscribers to their news service get a compilation CDs with songs that, quelle surprise, 1) don't stink and 2) aren't shitty club house. The magazine's certainly changed directions, and while they're still hosting DJ Tiesto launch parties at Time Supper Club (that's basically the definition of cruel and unusual punishment in my own personal Geneva Agreement), at least they're employing some solid and knowledgeable writers like Jonathan Cummins and Sarah Levesque, and covering relevant shit. Maybe this whole trend of marketing companies running magazines isn't such a bad thing? Cutting to the chase? Well, no, it's not the smartest or even smarmiest of the pack, and Ukula is more of a curse than a blessing... That said, Torontonian punters might find 25 err, quid out of their pub n' chips budget to participate in the Anglophilic explosion that is the UKULA Bright Lights Festival this very weekend. PG Wodehouse fans ISLANDS will be performing.



SPOON

Nick D., Dante and myself went to Club Soda last night, to check out Spoon and I ended up guzzling a bit too much of the random club soda and vodka concoction that Nick had mixed up in a water bottle, and while I'm no stranger to hangovers (unfortunately, sadly, pathetically), this particular mid-week one is both embarassing and a doozy. But despite sizing up alleyways on my wobbly way home, I was still with-it enough to remember that Spoon put on a pretty swell performance, running through some old standbys, and (in my mind) not receiving appropriate enough crowd response for Jonathan Fisk, which is about 8 times the song that I Turn My Camera On is. And hey, did any of you know that there's this random and great little bar on the east side of de Bleury, just above Rue President Kennedy?


They may have not made POP Montreal this year, but I still stand by my conviction that the opening track on the The Golden Dogs is as infectious as whatever topical nightmare disease might be scaring children this week, and they're playing tomorrow night at the Main Hall as part of Joey's well-crafted Decade Danse event. I'm not much of a burlesque fan, but flesh packs the youngsters in, and the last event's vaudeville routine was an inspired choice.
...Creature, The Golden Dogs, Echo Kitty, DJ Mlle Bacon

at the Main Hall, 5390 St. Laurent
9pm, $10

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Floated Ideas By Apollo...



Ghost Exits - She Is Beyond Good & Evil.mp3

GHOST EXITS are a New York duo, on the Social Registry label who are here witnessed taking a more prozaic electro-drone approach to the Pop Group's She Is Beyond Good & Evil. Ghost Exits have something of a similarity to the toothless ARE Weapons, and I actually enjoyed that group's first EP (one of the only decent things to receive some publicity from the mire and muck of the oft-reviled electroclash "thing" that happened a couple of years back), so though it's a back-handed compliment, it's still complimentary. Mark Stewart's howls here have been artfully replaced with a Jagger-Vega hybrid that serves the song well, I think.

I don't know if this band is still around or not, and given some stories circulating regarding disastrous and embarassing live performances in their hometown, it may be safe to say they've packed it in and are off working on other projects now.
Buy it at Insound!



Ponies In The Surf - Government Brand.mp3

Former GHOST EXITS organist Alexander McGregor, a sensitive soul, eventually grew out of the straight-jacket of staged confrontation and post-punk piss-take, moved to Boston, spent some time with his sister Camille and formed the duo Ponies In The Surf, which presented a 180 degree turn away from aforementioned shennanigans to a more humane musical vision, one that embraces the Sunday brunch crossword puzzle fans (such as myself), the grandmothers, and thankfully, it's not too precious. It reminds me a lot of the husband-wife duo of Puerto Muerto or some of the stuff done by Victoria's PantyBoy (and friends) - cinematic lo-fi pop swashes, dreamy harmonizing and most of all, tenderness! Go buy their stuff, or check out some more mp3s on their website.



Alexander McGregor - Aviary In The Snow / X-M-A-S.mp3
Alexander McGregor - White Caribou

Young McGregor also spends some time away from his sister, which is healthy, which is good: working on his own music and perhaps having tea. The first track is from a Christmas compilation: a bold step in the direction of headphone friendly dub-pop: McGregor marries Badalamenti-esque guitar with overlayed chiming saloon piano and overdubbed vocal-lines in an evocative and spacey film.

The second song is from his own Aguirre Returns EP, which, we've been helpfully told, is titled after his grandmother, not the Herzog film with that spectacular panning monkey river-raft scene. "Love is not the answer, it's just a joke... from France."





BONUS XENOPHOBIC COMMENTARY WITH MP3!
Gang Gang Dance - Untitled (Track 6).mp3

Brooklynn's Gang Gang Dance didn't make an impression on Stypod with God's Money - fetishism of the exotic, over-sexed moaning vocals, the inverted mirror of post-colonial cultural masturbation and all that - better than Gehry, but it ain't real, it ain't authentic, it ain't fourty Guineans flopping about on the compressed dirt floor of a mud-hut, exorcising the demons and cursing the tribe of flesh-eating savages who live down the road... Did Torontonian mayor Mel Lastman know of what he spoke when he professed a fear of dreadful happenings prior to an official visit to the Dark Continent?
Buy it at Insound!

Monday, October 31, 2005

Booty Bumping, Disco Dumping.

My friend Jordan said something the other night to the effect that his being unable to listen to Fleetwood Mac was akin to an incest survivor being unable to enjoy sex, and while it's a bit of an icky metaphor, I feel the same way about the Eagles and AC/DC. Traumatic childhood experiences have imbued the music with a dark and dank power that casts a shadow, and only years of therapy and unconditional positive regard from a mentor or lover will heal the scars...

Fleetwood Mac - I Know I'm Not Wrong.m4a


I know the re-assessment of Fleetwood Mac by members of my generation and the critics who speak for us (?) quite a while ago, at least a whole month before Kate Bush popped up on the revival radar, but I'm still not entirely behind it. MOJO magazine's story on Tusk gave me the hard-sell, but I only came out of the album clutching this song, a handsomely crafted piece of pop bric-a-brac that I assume was recorded in a Silver Lake closet, with napkin boxes substituting for Mick Fleetwood's drum set and Lindsay Buckingham barking orders to a paranoid and strung-out Stevie Nicks.



Incidentally, Cameron Crowe's newest film Elizabethtown is sure to be an unwelcome shit stain in theatres, already polluting the collective cultural space with images of leading star Orlando Bloom and his douchebag pompadour and long-in-the-back combo haircut (Is the Adam and the Ants haircut a knowing nod from one pirate to another?), but the soundtrack does feature one amazing track by a husky-voiced Lindsay Buckingham - a haunting number with fingerpicked guitars and minimal production that might serve as the basis for his initiation into this loosely-defined psych-folk world that's the newest ratchet-hatchet movement to lob handgrenades against the self-serving barricades of protective irony, etc. etc. etc. It's currently floating around on mp3 blogs and other places. Check it and show yr Mom...

Tomorrow or so I'll have a little rundown of a sub-scene of 'bit shy of adolescent sophisto-poppers doing some similar things in Montreal and Victoria... The Dymaxxions, Code Pie, Shapes and Sizes, and The Paper Cranes.


Warrior Magazine has a long awaited issue out, reaching the milestone of the first issue in their second volume, and this one is probably the best yet, in terms of content and design. (T-dot zine-heads n' nerds might have spotted them at this weekend's Canzine Expo.) Beautifully done abstract-geometric cover by editor Tony Trew, great articles on Deerhoof, a conflict-of-interview with Naomi Klein by paint-lobbin' Aaron Maté and plenty more. Anyway, check it out, subscribe: their 1 year anniversary party is coming up this Sunday (November 6th) at Blizzarts in Montreal with yours truly providing some crate-digging gems. More surprises too, check the website.


BOMB THE BASS!


Over the last couple of weeks I've come across some interesting pieces of vinyl - Bob Ray's Initiation Of A Mystic album (post-Sunshine Superman pop on the wicked Soul City imprint) in a Salvation Army, a truckload of acid house records along with a promo 12" for Japanese alt-tentacle noise-band Ultra Bide in an alley a couple of blocks from my house... Acid house was supposed to be back again, wasn't it? Around late last year at this time? I'll wait for the vinyl archeologists at 20jazzfunk to alert me on that.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Blathering Pop Wrap-Up

Tuesday, September 27th

I head out of the office with Nick to shop for Annie's rider - figuring that we're going to be eating it all later tonight anyway, we seek to satisfy ourselves while sticking to the criteria provided by her contract. Organic teddy bear cookies, Ceres juice (not from concentrate!), cashews (The Rich Man's Peanut), 86% cocoa chocolate, fruit and other assorted snacks round out the list. At this point I'm not quite sick of hummus, a substance that will cause a minor flare-up between myself and three others backstage at the Gonzales concert a number of days later.

Later that evening a frantic call comes in - Cannonball Jane can't make it across the border! I stay at the office until 5:30am or so in the morning writing up new immigration letters for the artists and frantically trying to contact them before more of them meet the same fate.

Wednesday, September 28th

I'm quite busy again, but stop by the opening party to stuff my face with a bit of sushi and drop some stuff off. A number of familiar faces in the room, including My!Gay!Husband!, who's in town and looking chipper. He asks if I want to throw Josh Martinez on the bill for our show at Petit Campus later that night, as Poni Hoax cancelled the week prior, and Duchess Says is no longer playing, probably owing to the fact that no one asked if they wanted to play - I assumed the SLUMers asked them, they assumed I asked them. (They ended up playing only one show, with Call Me Poupee, and from reports, blew everyone away... I'm going to do a post about Call Me Poupee in the future.) I arrive at Petit Campus a little later than I would have liked and find that the venue, despite cancellations, will not drop the ticket price, and have added on both tax and a venue surcharge to the ticket, bringing the total up $2 to $10 at the door. Christ. I spend a while frantically trying to sort out some magical accounting with Lisa, the venue manager, but it's all for naught. Black Moth Super Rainbow are playing and people are a bit turned off by the rather hefty ticket price, especially considering the two cancellations. Dandi and Szam are waiting to go on, I make some apologies and hope that people start magically popping out of the woodwork.

AN IMAGE OF TTC WOULD GO HERE, IMAGINE A BIG BALD FRENCH GUY WITHOUT HIS TOP ON, HE'S KIND OF PLUMP.

Sarah Levesque does show up - doing some preliminary work for a cover of Voir, if I can remember correctly. I chat her and her boyfriend up about French hip-hop, specifically TTC, who're playing at Club Soda as we speak. The above photographs will pop-up after the festival, featuring one of the TTC MCs topless, resembling boxer and video-game celebrity Butterbean.

Dandi Wind put on a great performance despite the lack of enthusiasm for the room, I feel like a chump, and the show loses a stupendous amount. Douglas kicks in a bit to help the BMSR kids get back to Pennsylvania, and the venue charges are invoiced. Yikes. MGH and a gaggle of others, including myself, march up the boulevard to the Academy Club, for the Besnard Lakes/Bionic/Donkeys show. We miss the Besnard Lakes, and there are a couple of scuffles in the crowd during the Bionic set.

Thursday, September 29th

There's no venue manager at Saphir, so I end up subbing in for the World Provider/Kill The Lights/Genevieve et Mathieu show. Genevieve et Mathieu are replacing The Russian Futurists, who dropped out owing to recording conflicts. There aren't that many people in the bar to see Malcolm and crew bash through a great set, but Olga of The Besnard Lakes provides solid backing on the drums... My volunteers are great - keeners who both possess a sense of humour and eventually the venue fills up quite heavily - friends of Kill The Lights, who play new-wave tinged rock with enough enthusiasm to excite the crowd, but fails to move me. At this point I'm sleep-deprived and quite hungover (it'll get much worse), and in festival zombie mode. Yannick, the salt-and-pepper haired overlord of Nightlife Magazine is in the crowd with a couple of friends, I assume to see Genevieve et Mathieu. There's a mild bit of tension between him and the Pop heads over media sponsorship or some such nonsense, but it's neither noteworthy nor interesting. The magazine is co-presenting the upcoming Broken Social Scene/Islands/Jadfair and Lumberob show at the MEG festival that I'll be DJing, though.

Genevieve et Mathieu are awesome, and I retire to a small backroom with one of the volunteers to count out the surprisingly large amount of cash made from the door. We split the amount between the bands, who seem quite happy, and I'm off, yet again, to the Academy Club. The Old Soul are performing - an unhealthy melange of party-time polkas and band student in-jokes that, nonetheless, works some sort of magic on the bleary-eyed, drunk and enthusiastic dancefloor residents. After this, work, sleep, drink, load equipment? I can't recall...


Friday, September 30th

There are more crises at the office, I'm scrambling around trying to put together the PA for the Pre-Loved instore, and my eyes have developed serious and startling bags underneath them. I'm stuck at the Academy Club releaving Spanky as The Grates run through a soundcheck in the afternoon but eventually get everything sorted and run up to Pre-Loved. I spot Ian Svenonius and crew soundchecking at Sala, and eventually learn through Alan that Sebastien from Trans Am is drumming with them. No more 16 year old? Telefauna, the only North Bay export I'm aware of outside of an ex-girlfriend's mother has an enthusiastic following, which is both surprising and expected at once.

A tall blonde kid with a pink fannypack who might have been a younger Wilson brother turns out to be the ubiquitious Drew Danburry, solo artist from Utah who, denied a bank loan that would allow him to fly up to the festival, decided to hitchhike. He, One Man Machine (from N'Oleans, yah) and an intrepid volunteer named Katie from Virginia are the notable pilgrims for the festival, by my accounting at least.

Far too many sketchy DI connections and jerry-rigged microphone stands later, Telefauna plays to an eager crowd - Meaghan is ecstatic about the turnout and the kids - everyone seems to be happy. At this point, I don't know if Alan is going to show up, but eventually I spot both him and Rob and Kaia from Mixel Pixel, and a soothing sensation comes over me - chances are, most of the people will get across the border.

I pop my head up at Sala for the Nethers set - no one's really there, Brian and I make small talk about absurd guarantees for bands we love that double over a year, but don't double attendance. Everything turns out a bit better than projected in the end, though.

I run back to the office with Steve of Expo 67 to get some more beer and deal with some more office mania - I'm sort of glad I don't have a cellphone for the festival at this point, because anytime I'm within 15 feet of the office phone, I end up answering it and dragged into some gigantic situation involving load-in times, immigration, and other technical disasters. Into the festival I don't know what becomes of these crises as the phone gets answered less and less. I assume some of these major level crises sorted themselves out with time.

After the Pre-Loved show I pack up and head back down to the Academy. I run into the Nemesis and we go over some of the criticisms and highlights of the festival thus far, and tells me a bit about what the A&R types are salivating, or expecting to salivate over. Think About Life are playing on this night, and there are a gaggle of unfamiliar faces at the door and around the venue asking about them - a side-effect of wrangling that coveted opening slot for an upcoming Wolf Parade tour, I assume.

.......More later.....

Thursday, October 06, 2005

Festival Hangover.

I'm still recovering from Pop Montreal - just came down with a cold/flu the other day, a couple of days after popcaster Andrew Rose did, and at the same time as a bunch of other Pop team members.

I ended up in some strange places, at some strange shows, some of which I programmed (sweet, sweet poetic irony), but it worked out for the best - I saw some stuff that I wouldn't have, missed some stuff I didn't want to, and got way less sleep than I ever had in my life before. Yikes.

So, that's sort of a pre-amble to me telling you that you've got to wait for the wrap-up. It promises to be lengthy, though not entirely interesting, and unfortunately light on the accompanying photographs...

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Last Crime Nights!



CRIME


Hey everyone, the last two nights of Crime are coming up... The first will be hosted by yours truly with some special guests, while the second will feature Vancouver's own favourite pedant Steven Balogh on the decks, spinning everything from Ethiopian psych to soul and r&b to whatever else. Come down, say goodbye to summer.

Tuesday, September 20th
w/ Jay Watts III and special guests

Tuesday, September 27th
from Vancouver, special guest DJ Ol' Dirty Balogh (The Pink Mountaintops, Baron Samedi, E.S.Q., many others) takes over the turntables, in preparation for Pop Montreal!


The Green Room
5386 St. Laurent
Doors 21h
Drink Specials
No Cover
http://goldkicks.blogspot.com

Monday, September 12, 2005

You-You-You Are On My Mind, 2000 Times



The Zombies - Hung Up On A Dream.mp3

Pegged by critics as too twee collegiate nerds during their brief career, unfortunately picked by Wes Anderson (or his music supervisor) for devious and dubious purposes, and remembered by the middle-aged and beyond for the primitive beat-boxing of Time of the Season or the unfortunate post-humous embarassment Argent, The Zombies managed to do in a couple of under-recognized years what it took The Kinks many, many more years and albums to do - craft songs of uninmpeachable quality and sophistication while still maintaining the urgency and freshness necessary in pop music.


The Troggs - I Can't Control Myself.mp3
The Troggs - I Can Only Give You Everything.mp3

The Troggs's controversial I Can't Control Myself concentrated primarily on the negative, provoking outrage amongst a public unwilling to deal with the undue cynicism and can't do attitude of the band, primarily Reg Presley's . Why not concentrate on what you can do? Why so negative? That other Presley isn't such a downer! The response I Can Only Give You Everything, would meet with muted appreciation, the public already having turned sour on the group. (1. Quick Quiz: Did Beck sample Montreal's Les Sultans for Devil's Haircut, or The Troggs?)


Os Mutantes - A Minha Menina.mp3
Os Mutantes - Tudo Bem.mp3

The first song above is the Os Mutantes a lot of people know and love - Brazilian psych that wed tropicalia to the Beatles, giving birth to Tom Ze's solo career, a couple solid re-issues and a periodic re-appearance of interest in the group every five years or so. The second track is from a more overlooked time in their career, a magical time when boogie-rock elements with heavily harmonized vocals, drum solos and thumping bass-lines could co-exist with wickedly overdubbed Rick Wakeman-esque synth lines, with nary a smirk or ironic nod in sight.


Velvet Underground - Who Loves The Sun?.mp3

Cass McCombs may be a terribly prickly interview, but he's certainly got impeccable taste. "Thematically" pinching from the more refined and lighter moments of the Velvet Underground's back catalogue marks him as a sophisticate with a good ear and an extensive knowledge of music history. Kudos!



I'm quite busy with all this Pop Montreal stuff right now, but for anybody interested in hearing what's coming up at the end of this month, or anyone who alternately wants to listen to the soft cooing and gooey goodness of Andrew Rose's voice over a glass of wine and some gorgeous silk throw pillows, check the website - the good Dr. has a put a podcast up on the zine section of the website.

Also, I'll be performing as part of the MEG festival halfway through October here in Montreal. More details to follow.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

The Obvious Child

With the exception of some Bo Diddley, Cab Calloway, one Chubby Checker song and lectures on the intellectual history of Judaism, all I've been listening to recently is Paul Simon. Once I've rummaged through every crack and crevice in his near 50-year long career, I will emerge, with some songs and words of praise, for all of you!

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Rye & The Coalition


A couple of years ago in Vancouver I went to see the Rye Coalition at the Picadilly Pub and managed to insert myself into an interview with them that my friend Zsofia was doing for Discorder, as she didn't really know the band, and I'd had some long standing love of the group, being introduced to a couple of their 7"s by my friend Rick. Anyways, singer Ralph Cuseglio and bassist Justin Morey and I chatted for a long time about Led Zeppelin, their testy relationship with Gern Blandsten label honcho (and former throaty Rorschach vocalist - they covered King Crimson!) Charles Maggio, recording with Steve Albini, and other shit. Jersey. Anyway, owing to some probably some fatwah against me in the editorial offices of that paper (the result of a mean-spirited dig at Chris Eng, I think), my completely wicked and involved questions didn't end up in the pages of CITR's rag.


I hear the sweet sounds
Sweet sounds of Nevada


Rye Coalition - 300 Foxes.mp3

One of the things I learned was that the sound at the beginning of this song was that of a quarter being flicked and spun on a table. Ya know, quarters, slot machines, the "sweet sounds of Nevada."

They were never that comfortably situated in the post-hardcore mileu that they found themselves in at their inception in the 90s, but their splits with The VSS and Karp, singles, and early albums are high-marks in what was, looking back on it, one fucking bleak time for American music.

On schedule with their plot for getting the band "fucking big" on their own terms, they've finished recording with Dave Grohl, which is, Jesus, not my cup of tea, really. But fuck, as long as he's not writing the songs. Also, Jared Leto is no longer in the band.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

It's Getting Colder!



Swervedriver - 99th Dream.mp3

There's a new overview of Swervedriver's Creation Records output floating about that I'd recommend to anyone checking out. Oxford was more than a city of scholars and lawyers and Ride and Radiohead, apparently. I'd heard the name bandied about a bit, Olga from The Besnard Lakes was rumoured to worship the group, and having a more than unhealthy interest in the back catalogues of The Jesus & Mary Chain, The House of Love, Ride, My Bloody Valentine (not as unhealthy as JRC on that one - that boy's suffering from a deep-rooted obsession with Kevin Shields), and the other brighter and lesser lights of the shoe-gazing scene (keep your Sigur Ros, Ambulance Ltd. post-shoegaze recommendations to yourself if you have them, though you probably don't - thanks) made it only a matter of moments before
I found myself struck dumb by a track like 99th Dream, with its Ventures-lifted guitar-slide intro and whirlpool of effects-laden guitars and Anglo moans. A pre-cursor to Dylan's 115th Dream, and set to appear on their Geffen debut, before their A&R guy got canned, and they settled for Zero Hour. A great song for bicycles!

This is the internet, the 21st century, a new age, so I'm far too lazy to try and contextualize any of these tracks in terms of the albums they appeared on, and, hey, I don't have to - there's All Music Guide for that!

Swervedriver - The Other Jesus.mp3

The Other Jesus, our second selection, comes alive with hammer-on guitar leads, slightly similar to MBV's tremolo drops, and that's one hell of an unfortunate bass-line intro, preparing you for some high school band's rendition of a Rage Against The Machine song, or maybe Helmet. (Songs about Jesus seemed pretty de-rigeur in the 90's, huh? Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus, Ministry's Jesus Built My Hotrod (with Butthole Surfer Gibby Haynes on lead vocal), Jesus Jones, and who
could forget the pride of New Berlin, Wisconsin, Housecat Sized Fennec, with their chart-raging number Do The Jesus? Anyone remember that song Bigger Than Jesus Now? I can't recall the band's name, but in the video, the lead-singer/guitarist was wearing a THIS IS NOT A FUGAZI T-SHIRT shirt.)

Swervedriver - Son of Mustang Ford.mp3

Heads-up to T.Dot's Are You Familiar blog with the early song Son of Mustang Ford, an early song that convinced Alan McGree of Creation Records (now svengali of single-lovin' Poptones) to sign the group. Allegedly he first heard this song while driving in a limo, and woah, it's a song about driving!

Swervedriver - The Birds.mp3

Here's a song that's the genesis of my "BUffalo Tom but way better" brainwave. There's an April Wine reference in here. Listen to the snarky drawl on these lyrics, huh? Disaffected generation Xers, who were "born on an aeroplane."

Swervedriver ended tragically as a result of Adam Franklin revealing an affinity for bearded Christian rockers Pedro The Lion in a post-humous(???) interview.


As you've just heard, the 1990s was a boom decade for production that accented the ride cymbal. Colin Stewart, bearded studio guru at Vancouver's The Hive, related a story a
couple of years ago about Ride playing in Victoria in the early 90s. Being a gigantic fan of theirs, (though, and this is a strike against him, not a fan of Carnival of Light) he struck up a conversation with them and they ended up all skipping out on co-headliners Lush's set to go to a movie. Uhhh, I have no more Brits in Victoria anecdotes, though, I should, that's the city's whole schtick, isn't it? Hence the double-decker buses, tea-houses, Wax Museum, and old ladies in weird hats. Quaint!

Daddy's Hands

Addenda to a previous post, via the well-worn and controversial comments box...
"The other track is called Granny's gotta eat. Anybody want to see us, we play Victoria at the Fifty Fifty this Friday.
Hope to see you there.
MTR"

Friday, July 29th
10pm. $7.
2516 Douglas St. Victoria, BC . Canada V8T-4M1
Daddy's Hands (Vancouver)
The Shapes and Sizes (Victoria)
Dante Decaro (Victoria/Montreal)
...and film shorts from The Secret Schoolyard Collective. Plus The Firearm Arts Opening.

Volare, Voltaire, Volatile!



Dean Martin - You're Nobody Till Somebody Loves You.mp3
Dean Martin - Return To Me.mp3
Dean Martin - Volare.mp3

Disclaimer: It should be noted that I have recently discovered shamelessness, and now, favour the maudlin, kitsch-laden and slightly nostalgic in all things. Pity me and my lack of taste. Thanks!

For a couple of weeks prior to my friend's Derek wedding, I had brushed on my Dean Martin - his nuances, his sleeves-rolled-up handling a highball charisma, his eyebrow positioning, his unique sense of humour and carefree attitude towards life, and those damn roasts (which were, apparently, filmed in over 12 hour shots - sometimes roaster and roastee weren't even on the same coast, much less the same room, and everyone just acted drunk after the booze wore off) - in preparation for delivering a roast for the reception. The night before the wedding I took a chlonazepam to put myself to sleep, heeding not my co-workers warning that half of one made her drool out of the side of her mouth and miss her metro stop, and awoke to find that, not only was I completely unstressed, I was also stumbling a lot. 'Perfect,' I thought to myself, 'this is like a god-damn Dean Martin pill.' The wedding came to pass, a lovely event, planned perfectly by Jessica (the bride) and Derek (the groom) - as inviting to their friends as their family, and enjoyable.


Twenty minutes prior to my stage-moment, I realized, after questioning by the groom's youngest brother, a terminally-hyper and a shade nerdy 14 year old, that I had nothing at all prepared. I sat down, a bit tipsy from actual booze this time, penned something, and ended up delivering an anecdote about a shared birthday party of mine and Melissa (who did duty as half-best man at this wedding) a couple of years back when Derek boozily faced up to the police and ended up in the drunk-tank. I compared him to some famous civil rights warriors and what not and finished the anecdote with a toast, to what I assume was nervous laughter from the crowd, realizing, in hindsight, that my speech was a lot more Stuart McLean (CBC's Vinyl Cafe) than Dean Martin. Oh well, shouldn't be much more of those in my future!

In honour of that wedding and Dean-o, here are some tracks to tide you over until the Swervedriver's up.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Trapped In The 1990s With Two Tall Men.


Pavement - Spit On A Stranger.mp3

I never had any interest in Pavement during the years that they were around - I think Jawbreaker's Dear You album was about the only indie stand-out in a record collection dominated by political pop-punk and screamo releases from Goleta's Ebullition Records - and I'd probably call myself a Pavement "fan," though it's hard to maintain that when I'm only really interested in the later albums, specifically Terror Twilight. I've yet to meet a Pavement fan who actually likes that album, but I loved it, and was delighted to find that Stephen Malkmus' solo debut carried on in the same manner. That Wilco (the roots & Americana, self-mythologizing, barely-disguised jam band) tried to re-create with their dopy and yawn-inducing Yankee Hotel Foxtrot? Well, I didn't like the Preston School of Industry album that much either, thanks any. (Maybe the Wilco version of Terror Twilight sounds best in the middle of a field in Maryland, the scent of patchouli, body odour and dreadlocks wafting about...) Was it Nigel Godrick's production that turned off old Pavement fans? No Spiral Stairs songs? Well, of little concern to me - this is the first track from that album, and it's a spacey and beautiful, nay!, sublime composition complete with occasional falsetto jumps and wonderful production that opens up ONE OF THE MOST CRITICAL ALBUMS OF 1999.


Archers of Loaf - Scenic Pastures.mp3
Archers of Loaf - Form & File.mp3

And, on the topic of the 1990s and indie rock bands with later albums not-so-beloved by their good-for-nothing turncoat fanbase, I will direct the reader's attention to an album put out in 1996 by Archers of Loaf, All The Nation's Airports. Fronted by the soft-spoken preacher-man Eric Bachmann, a gangly gentleman with a great fingerpicking technique, and like Stephen Malkmus, a lover of stripclubs (inferred, not confirmed), Bachmann and Black Mountain's Stephen McBean obviously attended the same vocal training school. This album pointed the way to the sparseness of their final album White Trash Heroes, while still maintaining some of the guitar squelches and squeals that dominated previous works. The above track, Scenic Pastures, is probably the most palatable to long-time fans of the group - a heavy bass-tone, a delayed-lead guitar, and those stop-start dynamics. The rest of the album sounds like Neu. Well, no, not really. But it's quite a bit different - looped and piano ballad Chumming The Ocean foreshadows Bachmann's current project, Crooked Fingers, the equivalent to McBean's Jerk With A Bomb song Summertime. Pathos! Piano! I haven't included that here, (the later song Form & File is above) but it's a strutting little number (uhh, okay, mid-tempo shuffle bordering on dirge, maybe?) that ends in a tidal wave of vocal overdubs. Get the album!


Welcome to Jay Watts' 1995 Bedroom *
In a similar vein to this post and a couples ones prior, that is Alienating Any Of The Four People Who Read This, I'm going to do a Swervedriver post tomorrow! It's everything I remember liking about Buffalo Tom's song on this 411 skateboarding video I had in grade 9, but without being terrible when I went back to listen to it. (Did anyone else discover bands through 411's video skateboard magazine? More often than not the soundtracks avoided the double-time kick-drum poppa-punk criminals that dominated most of the other skateboarding videos at the time... And is Ed Templeton the Stephen Malkmus of skateboarding?)

* Or rather, an approximation of what I want the cultural contents of my 1995 to be, looking back at it with selective memory and a healthy dose of revisionism.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

CRIME! Tonight! w/ Nicholas Diamonds



Tonight's Tuesday, so I'll be DJing at The Green Room (5386 St. Laurent - just below St. Viateur) - the usual mix of kraut-rock, neu!-wave, Yoko Ono bits and bites, rock, shoegazing bands, electro, soul and uhh, whatever seems interesting. This week I'll play a track or two from the yet-to-be released Daddy's Hands record, some Jersey-specific stuff (see post below), and what not. As well, special guest Nicholas Diamonds will be guesting... There's air-conditiong, drink specials, and (of course) no cover. It's like a live mp3 blog with booze!

Chris Leo


Not Paul Simon

I don't know if Chris Leo is notoriously difficult, or I've just taken one and built him a reputation in my mind up around it. The former frontman for New Jersey's Gern-Blandsten-ians Native Nod, hype-manipulators The Van Pelt, "project band" The Lapse, might receive a little more attention for his last name now that his older brother Ted Leo is prescribing an over-the-counter double-dose of mod-beat n' Costello to audiences with some help from his Pharmacists (oh fuck, I'll stop that messy metaphor), but he's got things on the
move - a novel, White Pigeons, published by Fifth Planet Press, a solo project that flys under the moniker Vague Angels,
and a slot playing guitar with Scottish group Pro Forma (who, it must be added, count Paul from Franz Ferdinand as a former member).

Chris' distinct err, ahh, "talky" manner of singing, coupled with his insistent and sometimes too-clever lyrics have certainly won him a fair share of invictives throughout the years, Pitchfork's Ryan Schreiber delivering a nasty little ear-boxing in his review of The Lapse's Heaven Ain't Happenin', claiming that each song on the album was "crammed with Chris Leo's self-important rants" and accusing him of maintaining a "crass superiority." (Pfft to all that, man - Dylan's Like A Rolling
Stone
was a self-important rant, certainly a bit crass, and if Argumentum ad Hitlerum is the final word in political and/or historical discussion, Argumentum ad Dylanum is the final word in rock n' pop discussion.)

I don't find Leo's lyrical stylin's, flourishes or his eloquence as offensive to my sensibilities as Schreiber or any number of others, and while I'm not going to deny the similarities in some bits to Nada Surf's Popular (Jesus, I'm really not doing him any favours here, am I?), Leo pre-dates that, and he's too clever by half to be manipulating the listener in such a painfully blunt and obvious manner, it's just his voice warbles sometimes, right?



The Van Pelt - His Steppe Is My Prairie.mp3


Welcome to the 90s! Listen to the production on that ride cymbal, the palm-muted break-down about 50 seconds into the song. Wait, don't go! Don't leave! Hear him out! This is the opening track from The Van Pelt's debut album, Stealing From Our Favourite Thieves, released by Gern Blandsten and, more than likely, still available from them. Chris Leo drops some folky touchstones: banjos, bluegrass,
the Sengalese, Injuns : "Fire, retire, and wipe your hands on your company seams! Cold, gold, they built a fortress on the weakest of stones" and then talky-part, scream, breakdown, and out! Chris Leo crafted a fantastic pop-song,
replete with insistent Pentecostal speaking-in-tongues tone, but as penance for having written this song during that dark period of musical history (the mid-90s), he has to include some dated-sounding production and guitar harmonics. Fine, I'll accept it!



The Lapse - Buffet.mp3


Toko Yasuda, Japanese ex-pat and formerly a member of Blonde Redhead came to more prominence with The Lapse, which functioned as a project between Leo and herself and a rotating cast of drummers and other musicians who played with them throughout two albums: 1998's Betrayal and
2000's Heaven Ain't Happenin'. Her voice pops up in this song Buffet from the second album, augmenting Leo's diatribe on "meals out of condiments," which is, you know, a strong metaphor for the malnourishment and impoverishment of human existence, natch. Built on a strong guitar riff, it takes even longer than it did for him to start singing on the track I posted above, almost two whole minutes!

The Lapse project crashed and burned prior to their signing to Matador and working on their third full-length as visa problems sadly caused the band and Chris and Toko's relationship to dissolve. Subsequently, Chris took off to South America, where one assumed he gathered some material for his novel. Toko now plays in Enon (who leave me flat), and as I mentioned above, Chris performs with Pro Forma and on his own, as Vague Angels. Rumours that drunken school-teacher Robert Pollard (of Guided By Voices) got The Lapse dropped from Matador after a fistfight with brother Ted Leo at a gig are possibly true.

Monday, July 25, 2005

Melancholic Mondays!



I'm going to keep on recycling this image...



Otis Redding - I've Got Dreams To Remember.mp3

Spacemen 3 - So Hot (Wash Away All Of My Tears).mp3

Spiritualized - Lay It Down Slow.mp3

Goldfrapp - Deep Honey.mp3




Four melancholic Monday songs for your (dubious) listening pleasure. The last pick reveals me to be a secret trip-hop obsessive, I suppose. Now, I never got into Portishead, I've only own one Tricky album (because I found it on the street), and the last time I heard Massive Attack put me off of them for some time. I was driving up with a friend and his friend to Nanaimo, halfway up the Malahat highway, and me very intoxicated at this point (I had thought a bottle of wine would be a necessary accompaniement to the car-ride earlier in the afternoon), gigantic plumes of smoke began billowing from the hood of his car. We pulled to
the side of the road, had it towed and ended up in some small-town inn, complete with Wings night. My friend ended up getting picked up by a friend, but I opted to carry on. The gentleman's brother picked him up in his sports car, we smoked some intensely strong marijuana and I became paranoid and scared, immersed in the
claustrophobic environment of Massive Attack's 1000th Window album. They dropped me off at a parking lot in Nanaimo that I thought was close to my host's place, and it took me about an hour to cross the parking lot to get to the Dairy Queen on the other side, which seemed a suitable end to the hell that I had just endured.

I had the chance to get out last night and see some of the Fantasia Festival. The film was called One Night In Mongkok (unfortunately the
soundtrack didn't feature a re-working of that Abba/Andrew Lloyd Webber stick o' dynamite from Chess), and was described as a "taut, psychological thriller." I left the theatre pretty shaken - it's been a while since I've been subject to that much misery and violence on the large screen. The characters were well-drawn,
if a little stiff in their roles (this was somewhat of a genre film, I guess) and the thematic concern seemed to be one of conveying a message of "stay put, country bumpkins! The shining island of hope that you think Hong Kong represents is a charade - it's a violent and blood-stained place where grannies rot to death and your good-nature will be perverted by the dark forces of urban existence. Don't overstay your visa!"

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Daddy's Hands! Again!



Dave Wanger is not female.
Daddy's Hands - Incest At Best.m4a
Daddy's Hands - Granny's Gotta Eat.m4a


The first track is an abrasive version of Daddy's Hands' Incest at Best from their forthcoming album, with a lovely introduction from velvet-voiced front-man Dave Wanger. The second track I don't have a title for yet (anyone out there?), but I'll speculate that it's titled Dirty Ways. As somebody mentioned in the comments below, the album is fucking awesome (as spectacular as it is damaged and abrasive), the artwork's by Jeff Ladouceur, and if a label doesn't pick this shit up and force-feed it to the populace, (according to an article in last week's Globe & Mail, mp3 blogs are a new and innovative method of doing it!) there's no justice left in this damn planet. I'm going to point to Dave Wanger as the Godhead of the multiple number of interesting bands associated with the Garden City (Frog Eyes, Frankie Sparo, Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, Atlas Strategic, and more) and wait for someone to contradict me.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Voz vet zayn, vet zayn...





C R I M E

Tuesdays / The Green Room / 5386 St. Laurent
23h / no cover / drink specials / air-conditioning
Kraut-rock, John Cale, Yoko Ono, Sun Ra, Electro, Neu!-wave and depending on my mood, sucky indie-esque nonsense.



* Amon Duul II - Eye Shaking King
* Ash Ra Tempel - Darkness: Flowers Must Die
* Ashla Bhosle - Dum Maro Dum
* Bango - Inferno No Mundo
* The Black Angels - Bloodhounds on My Trail
* Bruce Haack - Electric To Me Turn
* Can - In Calcutta
* Chrome - Eyes On Mars
* Cluster - Sowiesoso
* Daddy's Hands - Bastard You're A Hard Man To Love
* Dead Meadow - Stacy's Song
* Dr. John - Danse Fambeaux
* Eno & The Winkies - Totalled
* Faust - Sad Skinhead
* Flying Saucer Attack - Space 1999
* Harmonia - Gollum


Come by, or stay at home and download all this shit yourself...


Popsheep has a new mp3 up from Pride Tiger, featuring ex-3 Inches of Blooders Sunny Dhak and Bob Froese...

Monday, July 18, 2005

Afternoon Delight




Paul Simon - Kodachrome.mp3
Broadcast - I Found The F.mp3


A couple of tracks for the lazy and too-humid afternoon. Paul Simon reveals a predeliction for product placement way before McDonalds was paying hip-hoppers to mention Big Macs, and the Broadcast song is the first cut from their forthcoming album, Tender Buttons.

I have this theory that the perfect daycare record is Paul Simon's Graceland. I'm sure there's a whole whack of issues surrounding cultural appropriation and exploitation, that maybe some Sowetto sopranos were paid peanuts and are now dying penniless in some shanties on that, the sketchier side of Johannesburg, and I can take or leave the title track, preferring the bombast of You Can Call Me Al and the accompanying video starring Chevy Chase, but that's all irrelevant to the main point - that children, good children who grew into responsible and sensible adults have been raised to this album, and many more should be.

Fire Fire Fire!



I was walking up Mont-Royal earlier this morning when a kooky looking fellow, similar in many ways to Christopher Lloyd, pointed towards Drolet and yelled in French. It turned out that the back of Cinquième Péché was on fire. I called 911, stuck around and watched the firefighters and TQS camera-man deal with the situation. I hope none of you had reservations!

The Impossible Shapes - Florida Silver Springs.mp3


A meandering and strutting sort of song, a decent enough morning tune with some guitar work that brings to mind that juggernaut of all 1970s rock groups, a Hells Angels' favourite, and Steely Dan side-project (?), The Doobie Brothers. The Impossible Shapes are from Bloomington, Indiana.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

It's Hot In The Gasolina, The Dogs Are Crazy In Love.

There are certain things that pass me by completely - I consider myself pop-culture savvy - I read the Globe and Mail at least two or three times a week, peruse the weekly newspapers here in Montreal, spend more than my fair share of time on the internet, but it's becoming more and more apparent to me that I'm missing some crucial bits of information. Like, for example, what is the 2005 summer song? In past year's we've been Crazy In Love, noticed that it was, indeed Hot In Herre, and asked Who Let The Dogs Out?. Is it Daddy Yankee's La Gasolina? And the yellow and white bracelets - as far as I can gather these little silicon strips have something to do with ending poverty or abstaining from pre-marital sex? WWJD?




Deja Voodoo - Bound For Glory.mp3
Deja Voodoo - Jungle Out There.mp3


I was never big on the Constellation Records scene - the melodramatic crescendos and dirges and drab colour schemes, the played-out politics and sensible shoewear, I mean, that Sofa record had some real promise, but they
followed another path altogether, so prior to my moving to Montreal, the most enjoyable band I could think of from la belle province was Deja Voodoo, the two piece comprised of drummer Tony Dewald (now living in Vancouver) and guitarist and vocalist Gerard Van Herck (now a linguistics prof in Ottawa). Bo Diddley + VU + Cramps + Bauhaus with nary a soothsaying First Persons voice-over in sight, thank God!

I'm having problems coming to terms with Danny Finkleman's departure from CBC Radio, especially after hearing that Randy Bachmann is slated to be (or already has been put in as) his replacement. This is about as crushing a blow to my faith in the CBC as Brent Bambury's departure from Brave New Waves was. The CBC is becoming a haven for the rejects of Moses Znaimer's crystal palace and the stale halls of Cancon, for Christ's sake, and even Ross Porter's gone! Anyone who has any copies of Finkleman's 45s on cassette please get in touch.

Elixirs of Life



Brenton Woods - Gimme Little Sign.mp3


I scammed my roommate's CD the other night. He's pre-maturely old, and proud of it, preferring the golden apples of yesteryear to the lead uhh crab apples of today, which almost goes without saying when you find out that he's a long-time Mojo Magazine subscriber. Anyway, In Honour of Danny Finkleman (and his 45s), who has departed the CBC, sadly, and my roommate, who exhibits some of the curmudgeonly aspects of Mr. Finkleman (though with a little less banter)... "#9 on the charts in 1967, here's a thick slice of soul."

Mr. Wood's homepage is one of the better designed ones I've seen in a while. There's an earnestness whose appeal is difficult to deny - "hey, I'm floating in a zoot suit amongst 3-D musical notes!"


Madeleine Chartrand - Ani Kuni.mp3


My friend JR sent me this mp3 a couple of days ago in hopes that I might be able to track down some of her records, it's from a compilation put out here in Montreal titled Freak Out Total Volume 3, and it's a thumping, marching rendition of a traditional Indian song, beloved by youthful campers, tastefully accentuated with sitars, guitars and maybe xylaphones. This one's for my people!

Thursday, July 14, 2005

Silver Canines, Bronze Lupids.



The Golden Dogs - Bird Song.mp3

Just a quick post today, things are busy. This is a short, sweet and sugary blast of power-pop from Our Nation's Capital. The band's called The Golden Dogs, which makes me think of duck-hunting, but on the strength of this track I'll put my reservations aside. Birdsong is the first song from their most recent album, and though the album's focus is a bit murky (some strange genre-jumping), what with all these
iPod shuffles hanging around, that shouldn't irritate the modern music fan. Incidentally, the day after I got all excited about this band, I saw an acquaintance on the bus and she mentioned that she had seen them play with The Lovely Feathers at the Green Room here in Montreal, and that they were quite good. Maybe they'll play Pop Montreal? (YES! - ed.)

STRANGELY ENOUGH: I just found out that The Golden Dogs will be playing tonight in Montreal at... The Green Room, 5386 St. Laurent. Creepy!

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Eno Re-Vue


Farflung - The True Wheel.mp3


Eno's being re-considered by the youngsters again (I'm sure this happens every two years or so) - James Murphy honours him in song, Exclaim! chronicles his career, his albums are re-mastered and re-issued, he's got a new (and sadly mediocre) album out, and my obsessive searching for the relics and off-cuts from his back catalogue have lead me down some stranger paths. At some point some years ago, space-rockers Farflung covered The True Wheel from his Taking Tiger Mountain By Strategy album. The only band on Cleopatra Records that I've ever liked, fronted by Tommy Grenas, a gentleman who's worked with most of the leading luminaries of the rock kosmische scene, ya know...




Vue - Child For You.m4a


San Francisco's Vue, formed out of members of somewhat forgotten drop-tuning (C, dude, it naturally compliments E!) emoters Portraits of Past (check out that classic Scallen photo on the back of the Ebullition LP) and Bauhausian damaged art-rockers Das Audience made a lot of promises on their debut EP for GSL Records. The EP was initially supposed to be an Audience record, but the band faced a legal challenge from a German group. The first track, Child For You, an organ and tambourine with shaky and frantic guitar made such a strong statement coupled with the rest of the tracks that the subsequent albums seemed something of a disappointment (moving from GSL to Subpop to RCA), despite the presence of some strong material. I saw them two or three times in Victoria at Logan's, and their stage presence was beyond compare. Their manners as guests (ask host Adam Benzan) left a bit to be desired, but what more could you ask for out of a visiting rock band than a pepper spray attack and confusing towels for toilet paper? If you get a chance to pick this EP up, and I'm sure it's still in print, do so. The last track The Voyeurs is a natural compliment to the track above.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Tam & The Vampires


Not associated.

If Daniel Johnston was not an overweight and lonely man, but nay, instead a refugee from a Django Reinhardt jazz band, amateur cartoonist, he would be a she, and her name would be Tam, of Tam and the Vampires, who will soon be known to Byron Coley/Thurston Moore fans when some of her music is released by their Ecstatic Peace label. Below are a couple of tracks...

Tam & The Vampires - Incest At Best.mp3

Tam chooses to open the album with a cover of Daddy's Hands Incest At Best, heard on their last release Tutankhamun. Not the first Daddy's Hands cover to reach, that other Victorian Dave, David Barclay managed that feat on the Diskettes' split cassette with the Port City All-Stars. This actually isn't that terrible, even if the production and some of the vocal emoting owes a bit more to a portion of a decade everyone would rather not hear about right now (hey, early 90s!), Tam does have a strong voice, and it's a great song. Hopefully this will tide you over until the newest Daddy's Hands album comes out.

Tam & The Vampires - No Cars Go

There was the Vitaminsforyou remix, an mp3 blogger favourite, and now there's Tam's rendition of The Arcade Fire's No Cars Go... According to a story I heard, Tam presented a tape to Thurston Moore, who spoke enthusiastically of this song, unaware at the time that it was an Arcade Fire song.

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I headed to the Dandi Wind / Gentleman Reg / Final Fantasy show at Sala Rosa a little late tonight, only managing to catch Final Fantasy's set, which was enjoyable enough, though truthfully I liked his stage banter more than the performance. Not feeling it, I suppose. Apparently Dandi Wind wasn't as eagerly received as they deserve to be. The place was, as Szam remarked "full of bearded bloggers." I don't have a beard.

I also missed Gentleman Reg's set, which somebody (no names) told me was music crafted specifically to appear on the soundtrack to teen-dramas. I don't know if that was a crib from Lorraine Carpenter's Mirror article on Owen from Final Fantasy, where a side-project he was involved was described as having similar intentions.

Speaking of which, upstarts S.L.U.M. have told me that the Dandi Wind record's gone out for print, and Duchess Says should be finished their recording for their SLUM debut by the end of next week. Given the amount of time they've been able to put into updating their website, they must be somewhat busy. There's a good chance that there will be a SLUM event later this fall with the aforementioned bands and Vancouver's own DJing dynamo MY!GAY!HUSBAND!