Deerhoof, Fiery Furnaces @ the Opera House

Sometimes checking out a band you don’t know much about can be a good thing (see The Rapture, Camera Obscura). Sometimes it can be, well, not so good. Deerhoof and Fiery Furnaces are a couple of bands that I’ve always read about, but have never actually heard. When I found out they were playing at the Opera House, I figured it was my chance to check them out.

Italo Calvino wrote a metafictional novel in the ‘70s called If on a winter’s night a traveller, which is made up of the first chapters of other novels that you are reading in your quest to find an accurate copy of If on a winter’s night a traveller. Deerhoof made me think of this book, because it was like their songs were made up of all the good parts from other songs. It was damn frustrating to listen to, because whenever they hit a groove -- or whenever you thought the song was over -- they would suddenly and unpredictably change tempo, key, melody. It messed with my head, which really wanted a cohesive song with conventional structure, especially when the little nuggets they played were so hooky.

It was still a pretty good performance; the band was tight, the drummer was manic (losing a drumstick at one point but continuing to drum with his hand), and frontwoman Satomi Matsuzaki fascinated me with her semaphore-like hand and arm movements. But ultimately, they were not for me. I probably would have really liked them 10 years ago, when I thought it was cool to like stuff that was inaccessible. Now that I’m old enough to like what I like without making apologies, I’m going to pass on their oeuvre.

Speaking of not making apologies, I think Fiery Furnaces was the first band I’ve ever wanted to walk out on. It’s not that they were bad; they were excellent performers. They were just...abrasive. The frontwoman channeled Patti Smith, which was cool at first but quickly became exhausting as there was no variation in her singing. Actually, there was little variation overall, and it didn’t help that there were few breaks between songs. Like Deerhoof, you didn’t know when you were supposed to applaud. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing; it's just that in Fiery Furnaces’ case, all their tunes sounded the same, whereas each one of Deerhoof’s sound bites was different.

I consider my ear to be pretty sophisticated, and I tried very hard to get into them, but in the end it was the songwriting that turned me off. Their songs all sounded like death metal covers: call-and-response style interplay between discordant, repetitive riffs and forceful vocals. The whole experience was tiring. Still, we stuck it through to the end, but gratefully escaped before they came back on stage for an encore.

And so the best part of the night -- other than leaving -- was stopping across the street at Dangerous Dan’s for an enormous grilled cheese sandwich and discovering like-minded folk who had also fled. So I'm not alone in my opinion.

Deerhoof website
Deerhoof on MySpace
Fiery Furnaces website
Fiery Furnaces on MySpace

Mandy Patinkin in Concert @ Massey Hall

A friend bought tickets to see Mandy Patinkin because he only knew him as a film and TV actor and was curious as to what kind of concert he’d put on. When he couldn’t find anyone to go with him, I accepted the 11th hour invitation, even though I feared that I would have to stab myself with my housekeys if Mr. Patinkin broke out into Andrew Lloyd Webber.

Patinkin was fun and charming, and I respect him a lot as a performer -- but it was not my scene at all. It seemed to be for serious Broadway junkies only; there was much applause from an appreciative audience whenever they recognized a song. I’m grateful, though, that there was no Andrew Lloyd Webber. Lots of Sondheim, one song from Les Miz (“Bring Him Home”), but otherwise, not much else that I knew save for “Send in the Clowns”. Yeah. “Send in the Clowns”. Isn’t it rich.

I would’ve enjoyed it more if there’d been more fun parts (e.g. at the beginning, when he had us doing the Hokey Pokey, a challenge in Massey Hall’s cramped rows) and less heartstring-tugging schmaltz (see “Send in the Clowns”). I was pleased, however, when he did a little Irving Berlin medley at the end. But the real showstopper, both figuratively and literally, was his closing words:

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”

And that made the concert almost worthwhile. Almost.

The Official Site of Mandy Patinkin in Concert

CBC Radio 3 tees

I've been enamoured of CBC Radio 3's goose-deer mascot Bucky for some time now. He's perhaps not as majestic as the jackalope, but he's definitely all-Canadian. Well, now you can buy T-shirts with him and his noble brethren (the salmon-beaver and moose-squirrel) on them either online or at CBC's Toronto headquarters. I know where I'm heading Monday at lunchtime.

The Rapture @ the Guvernment

(Not to be confused with the Finnish metal band or the raising up of Christians to heaven. Although either would’ve been a good show.)

Remember when I said that Ladytron had been loud? Turns out it wasn’t Ladytron; it was the Guvernment's sound system. The Rapture may not have made my head feel like it was about to explode, but this is the first time my ears rang after a concert.

It was the kind of show I like, though, and the kind that I haven’t seen in a while: a band of which I knew nothing. I’d heard the name before -- which means they’ve gotten some buzz on the internet -- and that was enough for me to accept an invitation to see them. The unfortunate thing about last night, however, was that opening band The Presets cancelled. I’d been looking forward to checking out two bands I knew nothing about.

The other downside to having the opener cancel was that the Rapture’s set felt very short. Although it’s possible that I was dancing so manically that I didn’t notice time flying by. Imagine if Wolfmother put out a dance album: electronic disco beats on the bottom, psychedelic rock guitar and vocals on top, and generous saxophone and cowbell usage. I was impressed that for a band I knew nothing about, the packed audience recognized all their songs and cheered every time the frontmen raised their arms (a trick I’ve only ever seen Bono pull off).

I won’t be rushing out and buying Pieces of the People We Love; trippy rock noodling doesn’t do it for me. But it was a fun, high-energy show and I don’t mind at all that my ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton this morning.

The Rapture website
The Rapture on MySpace

Like a monkey with a miniature cymbal

At a friend’s urging over instant messenger, I checked out Hot Chip on MySpace, and within 20 minutes I’d bought and downloaded The Warning off iTunes and ordered tickets online to their Nov 6 show at the Mod Club. And the record industry says the internet is destroying them. Pffft.

They sound like the Postal Service - simple, forlorn pop vocals over ’80s electronic beats - but less precious. It’s probably because they’re British. Anyway, I pushed it onto a beta tester -- a co-worker whose taste runs to the happy and electronic -- and it got his seal of approval, so that’s good enough for me.

Hot Chip website
Hot Chip on MySpace

Déjà écouté

I was listening to the CBC Radio 3 podcast a couple weeks ago when a song by Sunset Rubdown came on. “This is good,” I thought, “but I’m not sure if I should like them too much, because they sound an awful lot like Wolf Parade.”

Turns out Sunset Rubdown is the side project of Spencer Krug, who is indeed a member of Wolf Parade. So it’s okay to like them. They really do sound a lot like Wolf Parade, though, so I’m not entirely sure what makes this a departure from Krug’s main gig.

Sunset Rubdown on MySpace
Sunset Rubdown on NMC
Wolf Parade on MySpace
Wolf Parade on NMC

Help me, I think I’m falling

I saw Karrin Allyson earlier this year at Jazz Lives, the now-annual Jazz FM fundraiser. I remember a petite woman with a lush, throaty voice who sang with great emotional expression and a sense of humour. (If the two sound mutually exclusive, it’s because she performed two songs.) She had the audience hanging on to her every breath.

Wild For You, unfortunately, seems to be her “pop” album. I’m not sure why Stacey Kent’s covers of the great songwriters of the ’70s work for me, but this one doesn’t. I do like her version of Joni Mitchell’s “Help Me” -- probably because Mitchell's songwriting is a bit whimsical in the first place -- but the jazzed-up “Wild World” (the Cat Stevens tune) makes me cringe. This is very much a studio album. Everything is too perfect and bland, which goes against everything I like about jazz.

Nevertheless, I recognize that I’m not the core audience for this CD (file under adult contemporary, please). I still hope to see Ms. Allyson perform again at the next Jazz Lives because she’s a knockout live.

Karrin Allyson website
Karrin Allyson on MySpace

You can take your salvation and go to hell

I’m a sucker for punk-disco beats (see Controller.Controller) and forceful female vocals (also see Controller.Controller). So when the CBC Radio 3 blog posted an mp3 of Modernboys Moderngirls’ “Edge of My Blade”, I was hooked immediately and made of note of when they would be releasing their first CD.

The Edge of My Blade EP launched on October 12 and is only available at local independent record stores. I schlepped my way to Criminal Records on Queen St W last week, and when I couldn't find the CD, I asked the cashier. Turns out she had it behind the counter; she’d been just about to create an index card for it. I probably bought the only copy they had at the time. So if you like what you hear, try Soundscapes or Sonic Boom instead.

Modernboys Moderngirls website (Turn your speakers down, “Edge of My Blade” starts playing right away)
Modernboys Moderngirls on MySpace
Modernboys Moderngirls on NMC (You can stream the entire EP here)

Legal music and rock & roll swag

I never got a chance to see the now-disbanded Sleater-Kinney live. The last time they came to Toronto they played the night I had to make Father’s Day dinner. And then the Ear to the Ground fest at Exhibition Place they were supposed to headline got cancelled. Sadly, it was not to be.

So when I paid for the Modernboys Moderngirls EP at the aforementioned Criminal Records, it suddenly struck me that I should check out the store for Sleater-Kinney merchandise. Criminal Records not only sells CDs, but T-shirts and other swag as well. All the mainstream rock bands that you’d expect to see on tees (e.g. AC/DC, the Stones) are represented, as well as indie stalwarts like Broken Social Scene and Elliott Smith. In the back they had Postal Service tees on sale, which should tell you how varied and current their collection is.

I found two S-K designs that I couldn’t choose between, so I bought them both. At $20 each, it was perfectly reasonable. Great place to buy presents -- especially for yourself.

Criminal Records
493 Queen St. W (west of Spadina)

Number nine...number nine...

When I was little, my parents dragged us to the Ontario Place Forum to see a Beatles tribute band. The band represented their mop-top phase and were spot-on in their mimicry, right down to Paul McCartney”s left-handed playing. I remember I was bored most of the time and kept myself amused by listening to the bass line in all their songs.

So it was with nostalgic amusement that I took up an offer to go see the Classic Albums Live play the Beatles’ White Album at a surprisingly packed Phoenix last night. We’re talking the entire White Album, in order, including all the Yoko Ono parts (sung by the female cellist) and avant-garde sound collage “Revolution 9.”

I’ve always been skeptical of tribute bands, but it struck me that this was like going to the symphony. These were professional musicians performing works of the great masters as they were meant to be played, and they may not have dressed up or acted like the Fab Four, but the music was the same. What’s more, the band really rawked and looked like they were having fun, which is all I ask for in a concert. Because, shockingly, I'm unfamiliar with the Beatles' later work and I didn't care about how accurately they recreated the White Album. I was just hoping for a good show, which I got in spades.

For an encore, they played Rubber Soul -- yes, the whole record -- complete with sitar player for “Norwegian Wood.” When was the last time a band played an album as an encore? (When was the last time a band brought on a sitar player, for that matter?) The closest I can think of was the Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Kool Haus in April, whose offstage time was really more of an intermission so that Karen O could change outfits.

On December 17 they’ll be back at the Phoenix, playing through the entire Beatles discography. They start at noon and finish when they’re finished. I don’t know if I can stand up for that long, but I might try. My parents would be proud.

Classic Albums Live website
Classic Albums Live on MySpace
White Album on Wikipedia

Sir, put down the gun

The tickets said that the doors opened at 7. We were told that the show started at 8. Word on the street was that Madeleine Peyroux was playing at 9. As we joined the confused queue outside the Danforth Music Hall, we realized that with assigned seating, there was no reason to line up. So we left and came back, and right at 8 some guy who looked disturbingly like a friend’s husband came on stage with an acoustic guitar. He didn’t tell us his name.

He turned out to be part Paul Simon, part Sting, and a little bit of Dylan, and sang lyrics that could’ve been written by Dave Frishberg. He was a strong songwriter, an excellent guitarist, a fabulous singer -- he knew how to hold back, and all his intonations were dead on -- but more importantly, he was humourous at times, and his lyrics were wry and clever without being pretentious. It was the lyrics, actually, that sold me; normally his kind of music would be too mellow for me.

After the set, we descended on the merch table and discovered that the guy’s name was Richard Julian. We pooled what little cash we had left on us and bought his newest CD, Slow New York. I haven’t listened to it yet, and I confess I’m afraid to; his acoustic guitar-playing was so fantastic that I fear his songs will be ruined by richer arrangements.

As rumoured, Madeleine Peyroux went on at 9. Several things surprised and delighted me about her performance:

• She was dressed in jeans and flipflops, more casual than most of the audience, and completely unlike her publicity photos.
  
  
• She played guitar, which I had no idea she did.
  
  
• Singing in French (“La Javanaise”) totally changes the quality of her voice; it opens up and becomes richer.
  
  
• Her pianist wore a suit, whereas her drummer had multiple piercings in his ear, a blue mohawk, and a wallet on a chain.
  
  
• Her bassist was really cute.

She seemed at ease with the audience, smiling a lot at first, bantering at times even, which made me wonder if her legendary disappearance is exaggerated. But she spent a lot of time turned away or looking down while playing or speaking. During the few songs for which she put down the guitar, her posture was awkward as if she didn’t know what to do with her arms. I suspect that she’s comfortable enough performing, but not enough to work a room.

But the thing I really liked is how all the musicians interacted -- watching each other for cues, Ms. Peyroux giving instructions on the spot, her own delayed vocal phrasing -- as if they’d barely rehearsed. They even flubbed a phrase or two, but pulled it together quickly, and did solos that sounded spontaneous. And that puts Madeleine Peyroux firmly in the territory of jazz rather than pop, thank goodness.

Richard Julian website
Richard Julian on MySpace
Madeleine Peyroux website
Madeleine Peyroux on MySpace

You know your French well

I bought It’s Never Been Like That after two non-Torontonian friends, at opposite ends of the globe, recommended Phoenix to me independently of each other. I was even urged to go see them live in early September, but it turned out their date at the Mod Club was a V-Fest exclusive. Boo.

I still can’t pin them down, which is why it’s taken me this long to do a write-up. The first time I heard them, they reminded me of the Monkees. “If I Ever Feel Better”, from a previous album, has a funky ‘70s vibe although the songwriting style is the same. In this new album I hear traces of Britpop, the Ramones, the Strokes. You’d never guess that Phoenix is French. Although maybe they initially made me think of the Monkees because of yéyé influences, however slim.

Most importantly, though, It’s Never Been Like That makes me want to dance like I’m in the prom scene in a John Hughes movie. And although that’s the best insight into Phoenix that I can give, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Phoenix website
Phoenix on MySpace
“Consolation Prizes” on YouTube
“If I Ever Feel Better” on YouTube (T. says, "It is the most happy/dance around your kitchen in your socks/shake it about/feel good/feel bad song.” So there you go.)

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

The story is that after Madeleine Peyroux released her first album to much acclaim, she disappeared. Literally disappeared; I don’t mean that her career went nowhere.

Seven years (seven years!) later she was discovered busking in Paris. Somehow she got dragged back into the recording studio for a second album -- and then disappeared again while on tour in Europe -- only for a week, but after that she cancelled the rest of her concert dates. And you thought Chan Marshall had performance anxiety.

So I was absolutely shocked to learn that Peyroux has put out a third album, Half the Perfect World, and so soon after Careless Love. I can’t help thinking that she’s pushing out albums as fast as possible to fulfill her contract and leave this life again. I’m going to see her this Wednesday at the Danforth Music Hall in case she disappears for another seven years.

Her gravelly voice sounds exactly like Billie Holliday, right down to the effortless world-weary delivery. I can’t say I’m as big a fan of her as I am of Stacey Kent, but her version of “Dance Me to the End of Love” sends chills down my spine every time I hear it.

Madeleine Peyroux website
Madeleine Peyroux on MySpace

Blast from the past

Holy crap. The Lilith Fair website is still live.

Gonna teach you tricks that’ll blow your mind

One thing that stayed with me from my misspent youth at the Royal Conservatory of Music is the tierce de Picardie, or Picardy third. You’re happily trundling along in a minor key, and you think you know what the next chord is going to be, but -- surprise! The third’s been raised a semitone, making it a major chord.

Grizzly Bear likes their Picardy thirds. I’m afraid that’s all I remember of their opening set last night at the Opera House -- other than their trippy psychedelic noodling -- because afterward headliners TV on the Radio took the stage.

I didn’t know anything about TV on the Radio until a co-worker lent me Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes. I liked it immediately. It sounded as if Iggy Pop had co-written songs with David Bowie in the '80s and '90s instead of the '70s, and then the songs were covered by Peter Gabriel. So...rich, textural chameleon rock with raw edges, and a frontman who really does sound like a smouldering Peter Gabriel.

Within the week I’d bought tickets to their show at the Opera House, and a short time after bought their recently released album, Return to Cookie Mountain. I’m still waiting for it to grow on me as much as Desperate Youth. It’s an excellent album, but less raw, and the only track that stands out so far (but rightly so) is the catchy “Wolf Like Me”. I’m thinking that it stands out too much, and overshadows the rest of the album, because every song they played last night was a knockout. I was not disappointed by their live performance. It's just a pity that I had the misfortune of being directly behind that one guy -- and there's always one in every audience -- who was drunkenly dancing like an idiot without any regard for others' personal space.

Grizzly Bear website
Grizzly Bear on MySpace
TV on the Radio website
TV on the Radio on MySpace
“Wolf Like Me” on YouTube

La-di-da, oh la-di-da

I love the fall. It means scarves, corduroy jackets, apple-picking, pumpkin pie -- and that I can sing Stacey Kent’s version of “’Tis Autumn” around the house.

There is absolutely no reason why I should like Stacey Kent so much. Her interpretations are pretty straight; no vocal gymnastics or flights of fancy. She's simply a chanteuse. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but they’re a dime a dozen.)

But she made me like standards that I never liked before e.g. “Too Darn Hot”, “Makin’ Whoopee”, and “The Trolley Song”. I mean, “The Trolley Song”! “Zing-zing-zing went my heartstrings” -- yeah, you know the one. She just has this charming, effortless, lilting delivery, and on The Boy Next Door she applies it to everything from Porter to Paul Simon and it’s all lovely.

Stacey Kent website
Stacey Kent - “’Tis Autumn”

Sorry! The mp3 is no longer available for download.

Hey Lloyd, I'm ready to be heartbroken

I didn't know anything about Camera Obscura until I was dragged to see them at the Horseshoe back in July, and I liked them so much I bought Let's Get Out of This Country within the week. They get compared to Belle & Sebastian a lot, being Scottish and twee. That's like comparing the Tragically Hip and Broken Social Scene because they're both Canadian and they rock.

Camera Obscura's organtastic '60s go-go meets folk actually sounds exactly like The Concretes -- right down to Tracyanne Campbell's voice -- only the songwriting is better. (The Concretes tend to choose a few chords and stick with them.) I don't know why no one's made this comparison before, because it was so obvious when I saw them live.

Camera Obscura website
Camera Obscura on MySpace

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Dirty Pretty Things is the new band from the ex-Libertine who is not dating Kate Moss and entering rehab on-and-off.

I think Waterloo to Anywhere is the album that The Bravery wanted to put out instead of their self-titled debut. Not that I didn't like their album; I love their album, and they put on a good show. But all the eyeliner and fauxhawks in the world could never bring them to this level of attitude.

Dirty Pretty Things website
Dirty Pretty Things on MySpace

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Gogol Bordello is insane. That's what I've been telling everyone I push this album on: "These guys are insane." And it's not just because of the liberal fiddle and accordion usage. Every track on Gypsy Punks: Underworld Dog Strike makes me want to drink vodka and whirl around the room like a dervish. Sadly, by the time I realized they were playing at the Drake earlier this year, the show was sold out. It would've been quite the spectacle.

If you’ve ever seen the film Everything is Illuminated, frontman Eugene Hutz plays the Ukrainian translator (sans handlebar mustache). I recommend that too.

Gogol Bordello website
Gogol Bordello on MySpace
"Start Wearing Purple" on YouTube

Ladytron@the Guvernment

...was loud. Wow, were they loud. And overwhelming, aurally and visually. I'm exhausted just remembering last night.

This was the last concert where I would expect to see crowdsurfing, but the frontwoman of the opening band, CSS, led the way. CSS, by the way, is shorthand for Cansei de Ser Sexy, and is responsible for such songs as "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above" and "Music is my Hot Sex." If I had known that before the show, I would've been very, very afraid. They turned out to be harmless as kittens -- sort of a younger, meaner, oversexed Go!Team.

I am convinced that Mira Aroyo is a robot, but that’s still cool.

Did I mention they were loud?

Musical acts I could never tell my mother I'm seeing

Les Breastfeeders*
Buckingham Phallus*
Butthole Surfers
The Buttless Chaps
Holy Fuck*
Lesbians on Ecstasy
Nashville Pussy
The New Pornographers*
Porno for Pyros
Shit La Merde
Swollen Members
Test Icicles

And of course, my friend M., a.k.a. DJ Sistertits.**

*I actually have seen these bands. Don’t tell my mom!
** Obviously I’ve seen M. a lot -- I just haven’t seen her deejay.

The reason I bring this up is that Les Breastfeeders was the first act at See Vous Play, a free concert put on by CBC Radio 3 (thank you, tax dollars) Sunday night. Les Breastfeeders were the unlikely combination of punk, yéyé (British/American-influenced French pop from the ‘60s), and a shirtless guy in a fur vest and tight polyester pants who danced frenetically on stage à la Keith Flint.

I like punk. I like ‘60s French pop. I'm not so keen on sweaty backup dancers. But I liked Les Breastfeeders enough to pick up Les matins de grands soirs from HMV yesterday at lunch. According to the liner notes, the backup dancer is a permanent member of the band. But the album still rocks.

This is indie music heresy, but I’m probably the only person in Toronto who doesn’t worship Emily Haines. She’s definitely talented, and has great stage presence, but I find her thin, childlike voice mismatched with Metric’s robust rawk ‘n’ roll. But I was curious to see her take the stage after Les Breastfeeders because I suspected that songs she’d written by herself would be more suited to her voice.

I'd been right; her slow, intimate, melancholy (i.e. damn depressing) ballads were more appropriate for her style of singing. She exhibited strong songwriting, and to my surprise, she was also a good pianist. (She chorded most of the time, but having played piano for years, I could tell. She’s got a deft, confident touch.)

The trouble was that, well, the set was a downer after the high-energy Breastfeeders, and anyone expecting her to blaze like she does for Metric would’ve been disappointed; she didn’t play up to the audience at all, choosing instead to stick to her keyboard as if it were a security blanket. The Kool Haus was also the wrong venue; much too large and cavernous, and between songs you could hear the chatter of everyone who wasn’t pressed up eagerly to the stage.

After Emily Haines finished, there was a mass exodus from the front rows -- just in time for the Francophone contingent who’d come to see Les Trois Accords to move in. The band also had a male backup dancer (perhaps a Quebecois thing?) but thankfully he kept his shirt on, and also provided backing vocals and played the best kazoo solo I’ve seen since...er...since gradeschool, most likely.

The band goofed off on stage, played solid rock ‘n’ roll that made me think of Green Day before they became political, and were generally appealing. I can see why they’ve sold 175,000 albums in Quebec alone. (If that sounds like a backhanded compliment, well, it kind of is.)

By the end of the night, only diehard Joel Plaskett Emergency fans and drunken louts (the two not being mutually exclusive) were left. You have to realize that each act played for about an hour each. We’d lined up outside the Kool Haus at 6:45, which meant by the time Joel came on we’d been standing there for over four hours.

Joel Plaskett is so tall and pale and cute and skinny that you want to give him a hug and make him a sandwich. In Victorian times he would’ve died of consumption as a child. But thanks to modern medicine, he rocked as usual. He performed the most awesome cover of ABBA’s “S.O.S.” during the encore. (When he announced it was time for a little ABBA, I totally thought he was joking.)

Anyway, you can listen to the performances and see photos of the show on the CBC Radio 3 website -- there are links in the sidebar to the different acts. Sadly, Joel Plaskett’s cover of “S.O.S.” isn’t included, so there's only a scrubby version on YouTube to prove that it exists.

Les Breastfeeders website (turn down your speakers, it's noisy at first)
Les Breastfeeders on MySpace
Emily Haines website
Emily Haines on MySpace
Les Trois Accords website
Joel Plaskett Emergency website
"S.O.S" on YouTube

Shake it down!

I'm currently streaming The D'Urbervilles off of New Music Canada and trying to figure out what to say about them. Because their website is pretty slim, and they seem to be so new that all they have available is an EP that you have to buy straight from them. And putting their name through Google brings up countless pages on Tess of the D'Urbervilles. (The band is no. 1 and 2 in the search results, though -- take that, Thomas Hardy!)

Anyway, I heard "We're Blowing Up!" on the CBC Radio 3 podcast yesterday and got suckered in by the disco bass line. I can see why they were recently on tour with Controller.Controller (another Canadian band I like). Although whereas Controller.Controller layers a punk sensibility over their disco rhythms, The D'urbervilles are all rock 'n' roll on top.

The tracks on their NMC page show some pretty solid songwriting, but the production and performances aren't as polished as they could be. Experience should improve that, though. I just might have to head down to Sneaky Dee's on November 23, to see if touring all this year has tightened their playing since the EP was recorded.

The D'Urbervilles website
The D'Urbervilles on MySpace
The D'Urbervilles on NMC
Tess of the D'Urbervilles on Bibliomania (in case you landed on this post looking for Thomas Hardy)