Arcade Fire @ Massey Hall

...was awesome. I just wish I could have actually seen them from my crappy seat in the left gallery.

More importantly, though, on this date in 1953, Charles Mingus, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Max Roach, and Bud Powell gave what is considered one of the greatest jazz concerts ever at Massey Hall. I'm not sure if they'd be proud, but they certainly shouldn't be turning in their graves.

May seems to be the month for concerts - much to my dismay, as I'm off on vacation soon. Laura Veirs plays the El Mo this Saturday, but sadly I've already made plans. (Why can't she be playing her native Seattle when I'm actually there?) The Slip - one of those bands I keep meaning to check out - plays the Mod Club on May 18, but I'll be out of town. Coco Rosie this Monday seems to be cancelled, and I would go see Pony Up at the Silver Dollar instead but I'm seeing the Arcade Fire the next night on the 15th.

I keep seeing banner ads for the Cliks everywhere and their natty attire and punk scowls almost make me want to check them out on the 24th, but I've just bought tickets to see Mother Mother at the Drake on the 25th. And it's a good thing I've already seen the Golden Dogs live or else I would have had a hard time choosing between them; they also play the 25th, at Lee's. Not to mention it's a really good thing that I bought tickets to Joel Plaskett's show on the 26th instead of the 25th, or else I would have really been disappointed about missing Mother Mother yet again. Oh yeah, and if I were a rabid Feist fan it would have really exacerbated the situation; like Joel, she's also booked in Toronto on the 25th and 26th.

The Bravery come to town on the 28th, and I would probably go see them if I weren't already inundated with choices. Aussie blues-folk-rockers the John Butler Trio play the Phoenix on the 30th, and I feel obliged to see them in order to compare notes with a friend.

Then we spill into June, and the Pipettes play Lee's on the 1st. CSS plays the Horseshoe on the 4th, and I'm tempted to see them again in such a small, divey, sweaty venue.

And I thought it was going to be a slow year for concerts.

Sonny Rollins @ Massey Hall

A brief hiatus due to a vacation, a hectic work schedule, and just plain laziness. But with the number of big concerts past and ones forthcoming, it was time to start blogging again before the backlog became overwhelming.

I don't know what's happened to jazz. I would have happily stood up from my seat in Massey Hall last night and danced madly during Sonny Rollins's entire concert (like I suspect I'll be doing next week when the Arcade Fire roll into the same venue). But I'm sure someone would have told me to sit down, especially since we were in the third row from the front. I wonder sometimes if jazz greats miss the days when they weren't famous enough to play huge sit-down concert halls to middle-aged upper middle class folk.

I didn't know anything about Sonny Rollins, although I knew the name, and knew that I must have a few of his recordings on various jazz compilation albums. The friend who'd bought the tickets knew even less, but buys so many show tickets from Massey Hall and Roy Thompson Hall that we got into a "Preferred Members" pre-show event in the lounge where music professor/writer/critic Rob Bowman waxed ecstatic about Rollins for an hour. Unfortunately we missed the beginning, but it was pretty awesome, and not just because of the refreshments. It was great to hear someone talk excitedly about Rollins, because it got us excited about the show.

The comment that piqued my interest the most was that Rollins still swings, and has a great sense of humour and joy despite his cerebral technique and spiritual goals. And he did. The lights dimmed, and this little old gentleman wearing sunglasses and a long coat shuffled on stage. According to his bio, he's 77 (!), but when he played, the years vanished. I was amazed that he could be both atonal and remarkably lyrical. Not at the same time, mind you -- it amazed me that he was comfortable with both styles.

Highlights: the percussionist who specialized in traditional African instruments; the drummer who played with his mouth hanging happily open like a puppy, even during the slower-paced songs; the music nerds (myself included) who clustered around the stage during intermission, gawking at the instruments; and my inability to sit still during the entire show.

Lowlight: the couple who showed up at our row, confused by the people sitting in their seats. An usher took a closer look at their tickets and said, "Oh, those are for yesterday's show." Which was Ron Sexsmith with Amy Millan. I bet someone slept on the sofa last night.

Sonny Rollins website
Sonny Rollins on Wikipedia

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Coming soon: Coco Rosie, the Arcade Fire, the Joel Plaskett Emergency, and a sojourn in Seattle during which I hope to catch some live music. And that's only in the next two weeks!

Jazz Lives 2007

This is third year that Jazz FM has put on their fundraising concert at Convocation Hall, and this is the third time I've attended. So far it has yet to disappoint; there are always acts I've always wanted to see (Emilie-Claire Barlow, Kurt Elling), acts I've never heard of that blow me away (Kenny Rankin, Adam Makowicz), acts I have heard of that blow me away (Pat LaBarbera, Michael Ruby, Amanda Martinez, Kevin Clark, Colleen Allen) and those returning that I'm happy to see (Jeff Healey, Sophie Milman). No Peter Appleyard this year, though.

There was even a Surprise Guest in the programme (my favourite act after TBA), who turned out to be Randy Bachman. He played a couple of songs that made me realize that he's an amazing guitar player as well as a songwriter, and then he and Sophie Milman performed "She's Come Undone".

Some time in the past few years, when I wasn't looking, Emilie-Claire Barlow dyed and cut her hair, glammed herself up, and learned how to hold back. I used to listen to her a lot until I tired of her lack of nuance; although remarkably skilled for someone so young, her singing was like a machine gun going off in all directions. I was pleased that her voice has matured and grown some affectations, and that she still makes it sound so easy.

The other performer I'd been looking forward to was Kurt Elling. I didn't know anything of him other than his distinctive voice and ability to wring meaning out of a lyric without going over the top. Whenever I hear him on Jazz FM, I have to stop what I'm doing and listen.

I was thus surprised to see what he actually looks like -- in my head, I had always pictured a Denzal Sinclaire-like groovy black dude at a piano with dreads and cool glasses. Instead, this guy in a natty brown pinstripe vintage suit and slicked-back hair came out. He looked like an old school Italian-American mobster, and had a bit of a lounge lizard vibe when he spoke. He didn't even play piano. But his voice and interpretation were still grand, and the interplay between his singing and his pianist was tight. That's probably why I'd always assumed he accompanied himself on piano.

The biggest surprise of the night (besides Ralph Benmurgui's dark hair when I could've sworn I saw him on King Street last week fully grey) was Kenny Rankin. I knew nothing about him, had never heard his name before. We speculated that perhaps he was connected to the Rankin Family but he turned out to be an American singer-songwriter in the tradition of Gordon Lightfoot and James Taylor. Despite his age (at least in his fifties), he still had an amazing, pure, young voice that sounded as if it had come straight out of the 1970s. He brought the house down with his rendition of "Blackbird".

30 jazz giants, one stage, one night only. That pretty much sums it up, and I look forward to next year's show.

Hollywood: the Epics @ Roy Thomson Hall

"These are not the seats you are looking for."

A friend called me up on Monday. "Are you free Wednesday night?" he said. "I've got a spare ticket for the symphony."

"Sure, I'm free," I said. "Wait -- what's playing?"

"Not sure," he said. "The theme is Hollywood movies or something."

"Oh," I said. "Well, as long as it's not Mozart."

I haven't been to the symphony in years, and I confess that even though I probably know more about classical music than the average person, I've never enjoyed the symphony. That is, watching a live orchestral performance has never blown me away like I always expect it to.

I always thought it was because I have a hard time reconciling what I see with what I hear. I realized last night that that's only a small part of it. I like music to be a little raw, and human. Symphony orchestras play as a single well-oiled unit, for the sake of the piece. The composition is human; the live performance rarely is.

The other problem with last night is the nature of movie music, or at least the arrangements put together for performances - brief suites or preludes that cobble together all of the soundtrack's main motifs (often running the gauntlet of tempos and treatments) in under 10 minutes.

Anyway, it was worse than I expected. The night was titled "Hollywood: the Epics" -- which meant the most grandiose scores from Hollywood's most grandiose movies. When Stormtroopers greeted us at the door, I suddenly realized that I am a classical music snob. I enjoy the Star Wars films; I enjoy (some) classical music. Putting them together, in my mind, is just plain wrong.

Seeing people get excited about the show also made me a little angry. A five-minute suite evoking hobbits and Sith Lords and Hollywood-style romance only scratches the surface of what orchestral music is capable of. I know it's important to make classical music more accessible, and get younger people in the seats, but there has got to be another way.

There were a few worthwhile moments, though. The overture from Around the World in 80 Days actually made us want to see the movie. ( And it made me want to dance with maracas. ) We also learned that Kubrick had added the classical soundtrack to 2001: A Space Odyssey as a placeholder for composer Alex North -- but after North composed his own original soundtrack, Kubrick decided to scrap it and stick to the classics.

Rosza's "The Lord's Prayer" from King of Kings also surprised me with its rich sound and constantly shifting chord progressions. You would have never guessed it was from a film. And I confess that John Williams' Theme from Schindler's List had a quiet gravitas; unlike typical Hollywood soundtracks, it held back, and the lead violinist performed beautifully.

It doesn't make up for the sappy "Lara's Theme" from Doctor Zhivago or the suite and "My Heart Will Go On" from Titanic. During the latter, I turned to my friend and whispered, "I'm going to poke my eyes out." When Darth Vader strolled onto stage at the end and chased off the conductor after the Star Wars suite, I thought, "I'm turning in my grave -- and I'm not even dead yet!"

So there you go. I'm a snob. But the day the Toronto Symphony Orchestra performs the film scores of Bernard Herrmann, I'm there.

Sebadoh @ Lee's Palace

Sebadoh is the band I would've loved to have seen when I was 18 and hanging out almost every night with my friend Colin. We'd sit in his dorm room and talk about music and literature and people we knew, or goof off in the piano room in the basement, him bashing away at the keys, and me singing. He wasn't a trained pianist and I wasn't a trained singer, but we got by. And believe it or not, there was no sex, drugs, or alcohol involved -- just the exuberance of youth. (We were too young and snobby to go to bars anyway, which was probably part of it.)

That's why I bought tickets to Sebadoh's show at Lee Palace. Not because of the music, but because of the memory of those times. I haven't even listened to Sebadoh for years. All I have are tapes -- tapes recorded off of Colin's CDs, all those years ago. Okay, I do have a secondhand copy of Bubble and Scrape that I bought last year, but -- I don't know. It's just not the same when it's not played off of a paint-spattered Maxell cassette with my writing on it (back when my writing was legible).

Did the music hold up after all these years? It did. Colin always did have interesting taste that bucked trends. The set was typical of what I remembered of Sebadoh's oeuvre: jumping back and forth from raucous, quirky, and introspective. The latter two I had always associated with Lou Barlow, so it was a surprise to see Eric Gaffney and Jake Loewenstein spending equal time at the mic (and taking turns at the drums). It struck me last night that Sebadoh is like the jazz pianist Thelonius Monk, who still swings even though his melodies are offbeat and atonal. Sebadoh somehow still manages to have catchy tunes even though you'd be hard-pressed to hum them in the shower the next day.

I seem to have missed the first opener, The Bent Mustache (which was probably a good thing judging from this YouTube footage, but I caught Flecton Big Sky. I can't find much about them, which is too bad, because they had a surprisingly rich sound for a single drummer and guitarist playing songs in the lo-fi tradition. So the only other things I can say about them is that the drummer was remarkably enthusiastic for a two-piece band, and the hirsute, portly frontman seemed like he would have gladly given you a CD if you bought him a beer.

The person that got the most applause last night, however, was the guy who got up on stage and proposed to his girlfriend. At Lee's Palace. Yeah. That'll never last.

Flecton Big Sky website
Sebadoh website
Sebadoh on MySpace

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Got my mouse finger and credit card ready for this year's Virgin Festival. Like last year, it won't break my heart to miss any of the acts, but unlike last year, I feel like this lineup is worth my $138. And I need an excuse to dust off my swan dress.

And on my calendar for April and May: Brad Mehldau, Sonny Rollins, Arcade Fire, the Joel Plaskett Emergency, and trips to Las Vegas and Seattle, both musical meccas in their own way. It's going to be a good spring.

Final Fantasy @ the Tranzac

Braved the bitter, bitter cold (and my own cold) last night to catch an act on my to-see list: Owen Pallett a.k.a. Final Fantasy. He was playing the first of two fundraising shows at the Tranzac. Considering the acclaim and indie cred, they could have charged a little bit more than the $8 in advance, but hey, I'm not complaining.

Local band The Silt opened. They started out, well, interestingly. I figured they had created a new genre - lo-fi spaghetti western electronica - but they eventually degenerated into plodding, mournful folk-country-roots dirges that frankly made me want to poke my eyes out. I thought, "Well, with some more practice and a good lead vocalist, these guys could be...competent. Their songwriting is fine enough." They played their instruments well (the drummer even playing bass at the same time), and sang in harmony competently, but otherwise couldn't get it together. At least not for me.

I can't find much about them on the internet, except a piece Carl Wilson wrote for the Globe and Mail in 2000 (?!):

The Silt is turning out to be one of Toronto's natural resources, alongside the likes of Hawksley Workman, with whom they share hummability, flamboyance, classicism, and a willingness to be fey and vulnerable that, at its best, makes audiences giddily nervous.

Six and a half years later, I can honestly say I was not giddily nervous. I'm not sure which band Mr. Wilson saw in 2000, but it wasn't the same one.

The night got better when the Centaurs took the stage. Again, I can't find much about them on the internet except for individual MySpace pages for the drummer, flautist, and keyboardist/vocalist. The drummer denotes himself as being "2-step / Ghettotech / Freestyle", the flautist is "Experimental / Jazz / Jungle", and the keyboardist/vocalist "R&B / Neo-soul / Jazz". Imagine all that mashed together, and that was the Centaurs: trippy Stereolab-ish instrumentals (the vocalist never sang any lyrics) that would have been nothing without the drummer.

The consensus was that the flute was overwhelming; there are only so many kinds of sounds you can get out of a flute, unlike a violin. I felt there needed to be more featured instruments to shake it up a little. A good lightshow would have also improved the experience. Maybe they could hook up with the woman who did the overhead projector visuals during Owen Pallett's set.

Despite two albums and all the building attention, I was surprised that he was still a boy with a violin; I would have guessed that by this time he would have a backing band member or two. It probably explains why he seems to play small, odd little venues. He would be lost by himself in, say, the Mod Club, or even the Phoenix, even though his songwriting is dramatic enough for a large venue. Although I'd be curious to see if he could hold an audience in clubs that size. He certainly had the room hushed last night (save for some guy's bored, drunk, obnoxious girlfriend who kept pawing him and contemptuously stage-whispering in his ear).

I don't know anything about stringed instruments, but I could tell that Pallett is an accomplished technical player, and has a lovely touch. There was a sweetness to his playing that doesn't come through in the recordings. The same could be said of his singing. On the albums he sounds a little self-conscious; live, he really does know how to sing as he knows how to hold back.

I didn't recognize a lot of the songs he played. A quick buzz through the internet reveals that he does plan to release a new album this year, so that's something to look forward to. I'm curious to see whether the songwriting and production progresses. Live and solo, Pallett's sound is limited; on a recording there is the possibility of additional tracks and overdubs. Let's just hope the new album has a less ridiculous title than He Poos Clouds.

Final Fantasy website (which someone really needs to complete/update one of these days)
"This Lamb Sells Condos" on YouTube (likely directed by his friend with the overhead projector)
"Fantasy" on YouTube (a Mariah Carey cover, of all things, but it works)

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Against all odds, I managed to get tickets to the Arcade Fire on May 15. Woohoo! They're crappy seats, but I knew I had to take whatever I could get.

New Pornographers @ Nathan Phillips Square

They were outstanding. And it was frickin' cold. I'm glad I saw them, and that I have feeling in my toes this morning. That's all I have to say.

New Pornographers website
New Pornographers on MySpace

The Golden Dogs w/ The Yoko Casionos and Paso Mino @ Lee's Palace

Last night was the best $8.50 I'd ever spent in my life. Well, rather, $8.50 x 2 plus convenience charges, beer, and the cost of the Golden Dogs and the Yoko Casionos new albums this morning on iTunes. But it was still the most bang for my buck I'd ever gotten at a concert: three tight, hard-rawkin, power-pop-alt-rock bands in one night. It was a good show, and even better, I did not black out from poor air circulation, as is my habit at Lee's Palace.

I can't find much on Paso Mino online; their website is under construction and I get the impression their current claim to fame is being Jason Collett's backup band. I'm not surprised; they were fantastic players, but still have to work out their sound. They haven't made up their mind between blues-rock, Canadian indie rock, and radio-friendly rock. They've got a lot going for them, though, including a lead guitarist with a distinct, mature, Jeff Martin-like voice. I wish they had rawked out a bit more, but the sensitive, lovelorn crooning probably makes them more popular with the ladies.

Overheard in the ladies' room near the end of Paso Mino's set (I couldn't wait): "Remember when Juan and Stef got kicked out because the staff throught they were screwing in the stall, but they were just exchanging clothes?"

The Yoko Casionos had already scored two points with me even though I'd never heard them before: a) their awesome name and b) they feature a rabbit in most of their photos and artwork. (Sadly they didn't have any T-shirts for sale at the merch table; I would have bought one in a flash.)

Live, I was pleasantly surprised. Very slick, very polished power pop-rock -- although almost too polished, if that's possible. Every song was bright and rich and performed impeccably. I can see them becoming very popular amongst faux-punk teenagers who like Green Day and Billy Talent -- and I actually don't mean that as a backhanded compliment. If their cards are played right, they could attract a huge and lucrative fan base and would be totally deserving of it. (And obviously, others think so, because according to iTunes These Are the New Old Times is distributed by Universal Music.)

Overheard in the ladies' room after their set:

"Aren't --- and Nathan cool?"
"Yeah! I wish they had played at my bat mitzvah!"

I don't think they were referring to any of the band members, but still, that made me feel old.

And finally, the Golden Dogs. I had bought Everything in 3 Parts last year on the sheer catchiness of "Yeah!", liked the rest of the album a lot, but had held off buying Big Eye, Little Eye. I think this was the first time I'd seen a band in which all the members looked like they were about to spontaneously combust. (Except the bassist. He showed admirable restraint. A quick buzz on the web reveals that he's relatively new to the band, so that explains it.)

Highlights: fake vines adorning everything, Christmas lights, the drummer drinking straight from a pitcher of water, the keyboardist swapping out handmade song namecards on a music stand, and a guitarist who looked like he could've been the kid brother of Bubbles from Trailer Park Boys. And how the frontman could rawk out on guitar and lead vocals and chew gum at the same time is beyond me. He's clearly an evolved species.

But really, the Golden Dogs shouldn't hold back so much, y'know? They shouldn't be so uptight and self-conscious. They need to work on being more comfortable on stage. Let loose once in a while. Give it their all.

Paso Mino website (under construction)
Paso Mino on MySpace
Yoko Casionos website
Yoko Casionos on MySpace
Golden Dogs website
Golden Dogs on MySpace
Video for "Never Meant Any Harm" on YouTube (Which makes them seem like a sedate New Wave band, but keep watching. You'll also see the song name placards in the background.)

Peter Appleyard @ the Harbourfront Centre

Peter Appleyard is 78, plays the vibes, and is awesome.

You wouldn't think it if you heard a recording, but in person he's unbelievably spry, charming, and always looks like he's having a great time. I first saw him at Jazz Lives, the now-annual Jazz FM fundraiser, in 2005. We had seats in the back row of the furthest balcony in Convocation Hall, and we could still see his bushy white eyebrows and the shiny brass buttons of his jacket. He only played one number, but if that had been the whole show it would've been worth the price of admission.

We saw him again at Jazz Lives in 2006, and this time we were so close to the stage we could see his name on his vibraphone. Last night at the Harbourfront Centre we weren't quite that close, but we still had a great view from the side balcony despite the box office attendant's trepidations that the seats weren't that great. Awkward, yes, but just the right angle for seeing the great man in action.

Our unique view raised some questions, though. What was the difference between mallets other than the colours of their heads? Why did he sometimes seem to pause and change his mind about mallet choice? And how long did it take him to perfect the technique of playing with three mallets at once?

Everything he played was a sheer delight, but the highlight for me was the liveliest version of Cole Porter's "Love For Sale" I've ever heard. Normally it's a dull, dragging, plaintive dirge that makes me want to poke my eyes out. Mr. Appleyard turned it into a fast-paced, sparkling confection with a hint of calypso.

My only complaint was that there should've been more vibraphone. There was plenty, but the show could've been called "Peter Appleyard and Friends" as he brought on a couple of guest soloists (a saxophone player and a vocalist) and he let his rhythm section shine without him on several occasions. (The upright bass player even got to take the lead near the end, performing "Our Love is Here to Stay" with support from the guitar and drums.) They were all stellar professionals, and normally I would have been happy to see them play. I just like Peter Appleyard that much.

Peter Appleyard website
The vibraphone on Wikipedia

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Bonus: footage of Mr. Appleyard playing with Lionel Hampton in the 1970s. You can see his three-mallet hold near the beginning.

The year in review

Whenever I come home from a show I take the ticket stub out of my pocket and tuck it into my whiteboard. Needless to say, there were a lot of stubs this year.

No. of acts (not including the huge lineup at Jazz Lives): 57
No. of shows: 32
No. of times I got carded: 28
No. of times my old, expired driver's license wasn't accepted as proper ID: 1
No. of times I saw Joel Plaskett this year: 3
No. of times I saw the Grates: 2
No. of times I blacked out at Lee's Palace from the poor air circulation: 2
No. of band T-shirts bought: 4, but only 2 bought at shows
No. of Keiths and rye-and-gingers consumed (but not necessarily at the same time): unknown

Best show of 2006: Tied between the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s for the raucous crowd and the Flaming Lips for the trippy, totally immersive experience.

Shows that just plain rawked: The Dears, Hot Chip, Joel Plaskett Emergency, Les Breastfeeders, My Brightest Diamond
Shows that went on too long: Band of Horses, Cat Power
Shows at which I nearly passed out: Band of Horses, Cat Power
Shows that won me over: Camera Obscura with the Diableros
Shows that overwhelmed: Ladytron, Flaming Lips
Shows that underwhelmed: Band of Horses, Calexico, Cat Power (sorry, she's very lovely but she tends to pick two or three chords and stick with them)
Shows that traumatized: Kids on TV, Fiery Furnaces
Shows that grated on the nerves: Fiery Furnaces, Spiral Beach
Shows that surprised me by how much I liked them: Classic Albums Live does the Beatles
Shows that I really enjoyed at the time but have since faded from memory: The Rapture, Belle & Sebastian, Stereolab, The Futureheads, Wolf Parade, The Strokes

Coming up in 2007: Peter Appleyard, Golden Dogs, Jazz Lives, Sebadoh, Sonny Rollins, more free indie acts at Nathan Phillips Square, and word on the street is that Dave Frishberg might be coming to town. Yeah!
Bands I hope are coming (back) to town: Final Fantasy, Gogol Bordello, Les Breastfeeders, My Brightest Diamond

Also planning a trip to Seattle in the spring. I'm bound to catch some good acts there (hopefully including the Trucks and the Earaches).

Major discoveries of the year: yéyé (French pop from the '60s), the Beatles, live opera

Favourite albums of 2006: Aberdeen City - The Freezing Atlantic, Final Fantasy - He Poos Clouds, Found - Found Can Move, The Grates - Gravity Won't Get You High, My Brightest Diamond - Bring Me the Workhorse
Honourable mentions (all good stuff by favourite bands, but these albums didn't resonate with me as much as their previous ones, or as much as the ones listed above): The Dears - Gang of Losers, TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain, Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show Your Bones
Guilty pleasure: Justin Timberlake's Futuresex/Lovesounds. I'm so ashamed.
The album on top of everyone's Best of 2006 list that I didn't check out: The Decemberists - The Crane Wife.
Anticipating albums in 2007 by: The Bravery, Hexes & Ohs. And PJ Harvey is apparently working on new material, but no word on when that'll be released.

Happy new year!

Beatles Marathon @ the Phoenix

So last Sunday at noon-ish my posse and I joined fellow musical masochists for the Classic Albums Live Beatles Marathon at the Phoenix. 211 songs, from "I Saw Her Standing There" (Please Please Me) to "Get Back" (Let it Be). 12 non-stop hours of live music, with only one break for dinner. More Beatles than I've ever listened to in my life. It felt a little bit like a Celtic folk tale in which a poor fool unwittingly puts on magic shoes that force him to dance for eternity. I crawled into bed after 1 am and I swear my feet were still tapping.

Highlights:

• The first "George" hopping happily about the stage with his bass. He had the head shake and the scream down pat.
  
• German versions of "Can't Buy Me Love" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand". (As K. pointed out, these were songs he thought he would never hear performed live -- and would likely never hear performed again.)
  
• The groovy sitar player.
  
• The spot-on vocal harmonies during "Drive My Car".
  
• The rip-roaring performance of "Helter Skelter".
  
• The supporting percussionist belting out "Why Don't We Do it In the Road?" I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel.
  
• Hearing a really good song that I'd never heard before, which happened a lot.
  
• The hipster jocks in the audience. Now I know where all the cute young guys in Toronto hang out.

Lowlights:

• The frightening, aged rockers in the audience.
  
• "Eleanor Rigby", unfortunately. The strings got ahead of themselves and "Paul" had to work to catch up.
  
• Hearing a not-so-good song that I'd never heard before, which happened a lot.
  
• Realizing I should've worn comfortable sneakers instead of knee-high leather boots.
  
• Realizing, during "Lovely Rita", that no one writes songs about web designers. I may have to get on that. ("Lovely Deb, web designer", anyone? It'll sell a million records, I swear.)
  
• The woman who was a bit too excited to meet Andy Frost of Q107's Psychedelic Psunday. (He was broadcasting from the lounge.)

Undecided:

• The long-haired fellow who probably stands in for Robert Plant during Classic Albums' Led Zeppelin performances. Good vocalist, but there was one song in particular in which his hard rock stylings totally brought down the mood and gave it a sinister edge that had never been there before. (For the life of me I can't remember which song it was -- one of the early ones, when the band was still in their mop-top phase.)
  
• The group in the audience who was either a blended multi-generational family or a cult patriarch with his many wives.

In the end, the band outlasted us, as we limped away at the end of Abbey Road at 12:30 am with Let it Be still to go.

The next day I had a medley of their songs running through my head and I had to exorcise it with Ladytron's Light and Magic. Still, the concert did the trick, and now I'm thinking of getting hold of the Beatles' entire oeuvre. Checking my iTunes library, I only have Abbey Road and half of the White Album (long story). To the used CD store!

The Beatles official website
Classic Albums Live website
Classic Albums Live promo on YouTube (That's "Paul" singing Pink Floyd's "The Wall". Weird!)

Escape from New York

Sorry again, kids -- duty called and I was dispatched post-haste to the city that never sleeps. Am back but exhausted from the trip and yesterday's Beatlemania staged by Classic Albums Live. Will file my report soon.

Notes from the field:

• Baroque folk sibs Rufus and Martha Wainwright played Carnegie Hall the night I got into New York, but I figured that since they were Canadian, they would pass through Toronto eventually. (And I've seen Rufus before.) Later I found out it had been a Wainwright family and friends Christmas show -- including Wainwright mom and aunt Kate and Anna McGarrigle, Lou Reed, and Jimmy Fallon (?!) -- and I kicked myself for not hunting down a ticket.
  
• Classic Albums Live does U2's War at the Phoenix in February. Is it cool to see a tribute when the band is still around performing?
  
• On Janurary 6, Emily Haines plays the Danforth Music Hall, which is a much more appropriate venue for her introspective solo work than when I saw her at the Kool Haus. No word if anti-depressants are included in the price of admission, or if you have to bring your own.
  
• "Cool swingin' machine" Peter Appleyard plays the Harbourfront Centre in January. Eeeee! I know it's perverse to get excited about a septuagenarian vibes master, but damn it, I don't care.

That's it for now. Later, kids.

Tokyo Police Club with Hexes & Ohs and Spiral Beach @ the Horseshoe

Damn, I'm getting old. It's gotten to the point at which every new band I see looks like they're straight out of high school. But I guess like most fields that rely on innovation (e.g. art, math, science), the best work is done when the person is young. Not that any of the bands at the sold-out Horseshoe last night were particularly innovative, but they were all a lot of fun and were accomplished performers.

Well, except for Montreal electropop duo Hexes & Ohs. I still maintain that they need more confidence in their singing. I suspect that it's part of their charm, though. They're very wistful and earnest, and a full band and better singing chops would change their sound entirely. Perhaps for the better, because I do like their songwriting, but it would make them an entirely different band. At the moment, it's only the two of them on guitars and synth and their hardworking MacBook.

They only played two songs that I recognized off of Goodbye Friend, Hello Lover. I hope that means there'll be another album soon as I liked all the new material. Set highlight: Edmund Lam suddenly dropping to the floor to play a guitar solo on his back. We didn't see that coming at all.

NOW Magazine cover children Spiral Beach got a mixed response from my posse. We agreed they were good, but not original. We all heard different influences, ranging from Kate Bush to Garbage to Bjork to the B-52's to '60s psychedelia and '70s prog rock. Me, I had terrifying flashbacks to last month's Fiery Furnaces' show. I thought they were an impressively tight band, and the obnoxious theatrics amused me, but the songwriting was harsh to my ears. As K. pointed out, they were best when they had a melody to play with.

Set highlight: what seemed to be Ma and Pa Beach standing on a bench just to the left of us, filming the show and dancing.

By the time Newmarket post-punk-rawkers Tokyo Police Club took the stage, I was tuckered out and I suspect that everyone else was too. It was really hot, and there was more than one person who was a little smelly. Set highlight: none, really. They rocked out pretty well, but there wasn't any one moment that stood out for me. I was likely distracted by the number of people who kept squeezing by me as they were coming or going.

So despite TPC's strong performance and the appreciative audience, this was the first show I've been to at which the people didn't clap for an encore immediately after the band left the stage. (Although considering that the A Lesson in Crime EP has seven songs and is only 20 minutes long, maybe no one thought there was any more material to play.) I felt a little bad about joining the mass exodus -- it was TPC's last show of 2006, and they'd probably hoped to go out with a bang -- but damn it, there were people crammed into every nook and cranny in that place and I wanted out.

Hexes & Ohs website
Hexes & Ohs on MySpace
Spiral Beach website
Spiral Beach on MySpace
Tokyo Police Club website
Tokyo Police Club on MySpace

New York hangover

Sorry, kids -- am still recovering from my sojourn in New York and sadly didn't make it to the D'Urbervilles on Thursday. Didn't check out any gigs while in the Big Apple; it was all about the art museums. I learned, however, that the moniker "the Big Apple" originates from jazz musicians; every city was an apple they had to take a bite out of, and New York was the biggest one of all.

The Golden Dogs play at the Rivoli tonight. Unfortunately I've already made plans to head down to Nathan Phillips Square for the Cavalcade of Lights. And the Joel Plaskett Emergency. Mostly for the Joel Plaskett Emergency.

Speaking of conflicting dates, the Constantines play Lee's Palace the night of my office holiday party. Am tempted to go anyway, just for the novelty of showing up to a rock concert in a party dress and heels.

And on December 2, Les Breastfeeders play at the El Mo -- but I've already got tickets to see Tokyo Police Club at the Horseshoe. I've consoled myself by watching the new video for "Funny Funiculaire", sung by Breastfeeders' guitarist and gamine Susie Mc LeLove. (Don't know what a "funiculaire" is?) Watch the video for "Minijube et Watusi" to see Les Breastfeeders' shirtless backup dancer Johnny Maldoror in action. Mere words cannot describe him.

Later, darlings. Got things to do, people to see.

Beautiful and terrible

I can't stop raving about My Brightest Diamond and the show at the Drake last week. If anything, I'm impressed at how strong Shara Worden and Pedestrian's performances were, despite the sparse audience. The Drake Underground is already tiny, but they rawked out as if they were playing a stadium of screaming fans.

Luckily aNewCanadian posted a few videos of the show on YouTube. Guess he must've been one of the people roaming about with cameras that night. Sadly he didn't post the bluesy solo covers she did of Nina Simone and Prince, but the sound and video quality is amazingly good for YouTube.

"Something of an End" (my favourite song on Bring Me the Workhorse):


"Freak Out" (which proves that Shara Worden can rawk):


"Golden Star" (when she hit that high note, J. and I just looked at each other in astonishment):

My Brightest Diamond @ the Drake Underground

I kind of overdosed on ethereal, introspective female singer-songwriters in the ‘90s. It’s the reason why I haven’t been able to get into Cat Power or Feist, despite their talent. But once in a while one will come along and pique my interest. The last one was Laura Veirs; the latest is My Brightest Diamond, whom I discovered via Fabulist.

While waiting at the Drake for a friend to show up, I shared the lobby with a gaggle of girls who were happily chatting and squealing like teenagers. Turns out one of them was Katie Stelmanis, the first act of the night. Poking about the internet reveals that Miss Stelmanis is part of local grrrl band Galaxy, who, coincidentally, are playing with the D'urbervilles (yet another band I mean to check out) later this month at Sneaky Dee's.

She looked like she was about 15. It didn't help that she stood alone on the stage with her synth, dwarfed by the other bands' equipment, and often had to stand on tiptoe to reach the microphone. She sounded young, too. She had some original, slightly gothic material that thankfully outweighed the absurdity of a little girl singing and pecking out samples on her keyboard (I couldn't help thinking of Ross from Friends), but she could be so much better with a backing band and a more mature voice.

The next act was Pedestrian, who played solid, epic rock in the Coldplay mold. I thought they were quite good; the frontman had a sensitive, dreamy, Chris Martin-like voice, but the band also knew how to rawk. They were wasted on a sadly sparse audience that seemed to be made up of photographers, Katie Stelmanis's entourage, and typical Torontonian too-cool-for-schoolers who were backed up against the bar as if the stage was radioactive.

Partway through one of their songs, a woman hopped up on stage and started singing backup vocals. It was Shara Worden, a.k.a. My Brightest Diamond. The beauty of her voice comes through on the recordings, but when she opened her mouth to sing, I was stunned. Her singing is absolutely phenomenal live.

Pedestrian was her backing band as well the opener, and her set surprised me by how much it rocked. I had expected her to be more ethereal and dreamy; I'd pegged her as a Kate Bush/Beth Orton type. But Pedestrian's presence -- and I guess her own live personality -- pushed her songs in a different direction, and she was much better than I'd imagined. (And I'd imagined her to be pretty good.) She wasn't dreamy or introspective; she was sublime. I hope that she comes back to Toronto and plays a larger venue, because she would be awesome in a club the size of Lee's Palace or Mod Club.

My only complaint was that she did not wear any of the superhero capes, ball gowns or Tudor corsets as promised in her bio. And the horse was a no-show. But I picked up a T-shirt and a CD ($15 and $10, respectively -- a steal!) and I plan to push her on everyone at work today.

Katie Stelmanis website
Pedestrian website
Pedestrian on MySpace
My Brightest Diamond website
My Brightest Diamond on MySpace
"Dragonfly" on YouTube
"Something of an End" (live) on YouTube

It's the nature of the experiment

Without knowing anything about them, I bought tickets to Tokyo Police Club's Dec. 2 show at the Horseshoe because a friend needed to entertain an out-of-town visitor that night. (Bespectacled Montreal electropop duo Hexes & Ohs will be opening. Yay!) What I heard on TPC's MySpace page, however, was enough to make me buy their EP.

For a new, young band out of Suburbville, Ontario (a.k.a. Newmarket), they've already sound like they've been at it for years. And yeah, maybe their NY/Britpop-punk sound isn't so original now that the Strokes have been on the scene for a while, but I'm still impressed by their maturity. And unlike the Strokes, every song on A Lesson in Crime doesn't make me want to dance like I'm singing backup in a '50s girl group.

Tokyo Police Club website
Tokyo Police Club on MySpace

Hot Chip @ the Mod Club

"These guys are neither hot nor chip." - J., as Hot Chip took the stage

The fellas in Hot Chip may look like the unlikeliest electronic Britpop stars (various members taking their fashion cues from Bill Cosby, Weird Al and the Thunderbirds) but they rocked nonetheless last night. I'd compared them to the Postal Service, but the set was closer to Depeche Mode and New Order's dramatic brand of synth-pop.

The arrangements were all different from the album -- only slightly different, mind you, and richer, unlike Fiery Furnaces' impenetrable 30-minute medley last week -- and kept the sold-out audience guessing. I liked how everyone, except the drummer, was aligned in a row at the front of the stage so that there wasn't a frontman despite one band member filling most of the lead vocal duties. There was singing, goofy dancing, and the playing of synths, guitars, cowbells, congas and maracas. It was all good.

Opening (and local) band Born Ruffians must have been called in at the last minute, because their forgettable guitar-driven indie rock was mismatched with Hot Chip's electropop. (Huh. I just checked their website and they're opening for Hot Chip for the entire US tour.)

The Born Ruffians -- well, they didn't look like ruffians. They looked like they were barely old enough to shave. The trio performed well and with a lot of enthusiasm, but I think they need a few more years to grow and find their sound. We amused ourselves during their set by imagining the boys practicing in the basement, only to be interrupted by someone's mother bringing down Sunny Delight and freshly baked cookies. "Moooomm... rock stars don't drink Sunny D. Rock stars drink beer!"

Born Ruffians website
Born Ruffians on MySpace
Hot Chip website
Hot Chip on MySpace
"Over and Over" on YouTube

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