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GOGOL BORDELLO + Panic & The Rebel Emergency @ Théâtre National
By Josh Mocle - The Kids Are So-So - 02/16/2006
Innovative. Adjective. “Being or producing something like nothing done or experienced or created before”. I’ve seen this word thrown around in alt-rock circles for a few years now, when people are claiming that this or that band is “groundbreaking” or “doing new things with the genre”. That having been said, I’m gonna go ahead and say that arguably, the only truly innovative band to come out of the punk scene in the last seven years is none other than New York-by-way-of-Eastern Europe’s Gogol Bordello. These self-proclaimed “Gypsy Punks” sound like what The Sex Pistols would have sounded like if they had formed in post-war Ukraine rather than merry old England. In a sea of poseurs claiming to be punk rock, Gogol Bordello -- with their latest effort Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike -- continues to carry the torch of raw, unfettered and genuinely rebellious punk rock. On the night of February 16th 2006, they carried it to Montreal.
I made my way out to Le National, a new venue nestled comfortably in the east end of Ste-Catherine, on Friday night accompanied by my 56-year-old father, a recently converted Gogol fan. You can imagine my surprise when my Dad, who for years had told me to “turn that crap down” whenever I spun whatever new CD I was rocking at the time, showed a considerable amount of interest in accompanying me to this show. Once I reached the venue, however, it ceased to be a mystery as the first thing I noticed were folks older than him in the crowd. For the first time in my concert-going career, I was part of an audience that was genuinely diverse. You had your twentysomething “intellectual” university kids, your working class 30-40 “civilized” bunch, your 50-60 “seen the world” adults and finally, your generic 16-19 scene kids (*vomit*). This really struck me as a reflection on Gogol themselves, as for a few months I’d been puzzled as to what their target audience is. Based on this turnout, that target audience appears to be pretty damn close to everyone.
After around an hour and a half of standing around, Toronto’s Panic and the Rebel Emergency took the stage. I had only heard of this band before that evening and I can now safely say that I could have lived a full and happy life without ever having to hear their particular brand of what I affectionately call “white boy Reggae” (one can probably guess what I infer by that) -- despite the fact that one of their two singers was a Jamaica native, but I digress. After a shortened set full of ditties that sounded like a mangled mix of Chassidic Reggae Superstar Matisyahu and stoner favorites Sublime -- although not the genuinely good aspects of either group -- and a cover of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start The Fire”, they were off to most likely toke up somewhere based on the amount of time they spent praising Montreal weed during their set.
A half-hour later, Gogol Bordello themselves took the stage and that was when things really got interesting. After opening their set with one of their more downbeat songs, “Immigrant Punk” -- probably the song, in my opinion, that best describes all the music they would go on to play that night -- they began to rip into “Sally”, the first track off Gypsy Punks, at which point the room exploded. As the night wore on, the energy exhibited by the band was almost contagious. The last time I saw a crowd this riled-up and energetic was in a video of one of Boston’s Dropkick Murphys world-famous St.Patrick’s Day shows -- I realize that may mean nothing to a lot of you Montrealers, but back in Boston it’s a pretty big deal. By the end of the second song, singer/acoustic guitar player Eugene Hutz was topless and covered in sweat -- as is the case, rumor has it, at every Gogol show; the man apparently likes to flaunt himself.) By the third song, the band’s dancer/percussionists Pamela Jintana Racine and Elizabeth Sun took the stage with the rest of band. In the band’s recordings, their contributions are often not too noticeable over those of the men in the band (you know the female shrieks all over “I Would Never Wanna Be Young Again”? Yeah, that’s them), but their presence on stage added to the chaos, an element of beauty and charisma that were absent otherwise. Hell, they certainly made the older male members of the band look prettier by comparison.
Speaking of the older male members of the band, Violinist Sergey Ryabtzev wins the Awesome award of the night; never before had I seen a person work a violin with as much intensity and vigor. He truly created the punk vibe with that thing -- I hope you’re listening Yellowcard. Easily in his mid-50's, Ryabtzev had seemingly more energy than some of his bandmates who were half his age. That having been said, the rest of the band wasn’t too shabby either. Almost entirely hidden behind his accordion, Yuri Lemeshev added a traditional aspect to the songs, solidifying in numbers such as “Think Locally, Fuck Globally” and “60 Revolutions”, the “gypsy” aspect of Gogol’s Gypsy Punks. Meanwhile, electric guitarist Oren Kaplan, bassist Rea Mochiach and drummer Eliot Ferguson kept the beat and form of the songs, but were sadly overshadowed -- in my opinion -- by the rest of the band. Which brings me to Eugene Hutz himself; I can’t say much about this man that hasn’t been said before. I’ve heard things like “ball of energy on stage” and “wild & crazy guy” used to describe the frontman, but I choose to describe him in one word, and that word is simply “electrified”. The amount of movement and energy coming out of that man would make one think he was getting 3000 volts injected into his body for an hour and a half. With his constant command of “party!” to the audience, he sure took his own advice. Even after the band had concluded their set, he still seemed content to talk smack with the audience from the empty stage.
By the end of the night, I found myself completely wasted having consumed no alchoholic substances (okay, maybe a litle, but that’s neither here nor there). Firmly taking its place towards the top of my “best live shows I’ve ever seen” list, Gogol Bordello has got me even more hooked than I had been. Like going on three consecutive benders followed by a bar mitzvah and an extended family reunion complete with all the members who grew up in the “old country”, thus is the effect Gogol Bordello has on its audience. If such an experience interests you -- and you KNOW it does -- then I would strongly suggest making your way to a Gogol show sometime in the near future; you probably won't be disappointed.
Oh, and my Dad loved it too.
[Tune in to The Kids Are So-So Saturdays 10:00pm-Midnight.]
BUCKFEST 5: Starbuck & Les Impuissants @ Le Playhouse
By Johnny Suck - Turn Down the Suck - 02/11/2006
Most of the time, the reason why I go to a show is for the music; other times I go to be cool, and every once in a while I go to see a 500-pound man swing a jug of water from his cock ring. The latter was why I made my way over to Le Playhouse on Saturday for Buckfest 5.
On the bill was Bunchofuckingoofs, Starbuck et Les Impuissants, Les Vieilles Salopes, Les Petits Paquets and “autres bands à confirmer”. I think it was Les Petits Paquets who were playing when I got there. They weren’t particularly good, just typical shitty small-time punk; I was glad that I missed most of their set. Up next were Les Vieilles Salopes, who are also typical shitty small-time punk. They were likable enough, but not really noteworthy; we’ve all seen them many times before. Les Prostiputes were one of the TBA bands. They played a nice 50’s style rock with a solid dose of punk thrown in. Unfortunately, it was only during their last song that I realized that I had already seen them before -- and pretty recently too. They were enjoyable but entirely forgettable.
Urban Aliens were another TBA band. “What the hell? 'Autres bands à confirmer' are supposed to be on at the beginning of the show, not snuck in the middle,” I thought. I was starting to get tired and annoyed, because really, I was just there to see Starbuck et Les Impuissants and didn’t give a damn about anyone else. Luckily, Urban Aliens turned out all right. They were a good blend of punk and metal, with a singer that has a distinctively Hetfield-ish voice. They’ve been on my radar for a while, so I guess I was glad to have finally gotten the chance to see them -- even though I was still annoyed that I had to watch so many bands. Finally, after UA were Starbuck et Les Impuissants. Time to get my $7 worth from this show!
I’ve seen Starbuck et Les Impuissants a few times before, so I knew what to expect. For a quick primer, click here, here, and here. As a rule, I’m usually not into gimmicks -- I just want to rock. But S&LI are a definite exception to the rule. I went to be visually entertained and visually entertained I was. The band came out in their various costumes: Starbuck wearing a crown, face paint and a Canadian flag as a skirt, the bassist wearing a diaper and a mask, and so on… The get-up is good for a chuckle, but to keep an audience’s attention for 40 minutes, there needs to be a performance. And that’s what this guy is for. He doesn’t actually play any instruments; he’s busy doing other things. He starts off innocently enough: sticking pins through the flesh on his forehead, forearms and chest. He even sticks a few straight through his cheeks. Needles are fine, but darts are better: those get jammed right in his, um, other cheeks. Then out comes the stapler; staples to the arms, staples to the face, staples everywhere! All the while he’s having fun, I have a huge fucking grin on my face, and a whole bunch of people have their video cameras out. My full attention had been placed on him, but after awhile I took a look over at Starbuck who was all bloody and had his flag-turned-skirt shoved right up his ass. “Huh, I wonder what I missed,” I wondered. That thought didn’t last long though; the other guy had started sticking hooks through his chest, in the flesh behind both nipples. Those hooks were then connected to a rope that had three bricks looped onto it. Impressive. For some people, however, hanging bricks off of hooks in their chest just isn’t enough. Some people feel like going all the way and hanging those bricks from their cock ring -- and then swinging the bricks in the air… I’ve never looked so intently at another man’s junk in my life. I even took a step forward and craned my neck to get a better view. It was amazing, hilarious and even a little confusing (really, why was I enjoying it so much?). I had already seen this before -- done with a jug of water, as in the picture -- but it was still glorious. You haven’t been to a show until you’ve been to one that has a guy doing the Dick Brick Trick. I can’t imagine what could have been done to top that, so once he unhooked the bricks and put his skirt back in place, he left the stage. The rest of the band stuck around -- they were playing music or something. After politely waiting through S&LI’s last three songs, I took a look at my watch and saw that I was going to have to choose between Bunchofuckingoofs and the last metro. It was a cold night and Le Playhouse is a long way from Atwater. Needless to say, Bunchofuckingoofs lost. I didn’t care; I was happy and had gotten my $7 worth. Time to leave…
Ahhh, but the night doesn’t end yet. There’s the ride home where I get to contemplate everything I just saw. Why do I find this entertaining? Is there anything wrong with finding it entertaining? What exactly is it that is entertaining about it? Why can’t I just be happy staying home watching the Olympics/sitcoms/reality television or playing WoW like everyone else (seriously, things would be so much easier if that were the case)? I had a few more questions, but couldn’t really come up with any satisfying answers. If you have any ideas, let me know.
[Tune in to Turn Down The Suck Mondays from 1:30-3:00pm]
CONTROLLER.CONTROLLER + OK GO @ Cabaret
By Katie Seline - Wrong Side of the Bed - 02/02/2006
One of my favourite things about living in Montreal over the past five years has been the vast variety of live shows and great local bands. But over time, the city’s scene began to take a toll -- falling somewhere in between journalist and borderline wanna-be hipster, this DJ’s skin was beginning to wear thin. The girls were becoming just a little too frightening, the style just a little bit too much, the music getting lost in the scene itself. It was fitting, however, that I spend one of my last evenings in Montreal going to a show, and I think I chose the perfect one. It was an odd line-up, but one that was just comforting enough to be enjoyable and just as ridiculous enough to remind me that I am glad to be leaving.
Toronto’s Controller.Controller have been on the road with OK GO for a while now, opening for them over their US dates but trading places it seems in Canada. Controller headlined this show at Cabaret in Montreal and the result was an odd mix of teenage girls and Montreal hipsters, the girls overriding the latter in both number and voice. Even stranger than the line-up was the fact that the floor was packed for OK GO, who took the stage after the bizarre -- and I’m not going to lie to you -- pretty brutal Stop Die Resuscitate, but the crowd seemed to dissipate before frontwoman Nirmala Basnayake and gang came on. In any case, the crowd that remained provided a good reception for the band, but not what I would have expected considering the quality of their performance.
Both bands played incredibly well -- OK GO were much more entertaining than I had expected, having the energy and the sass that only a band with such a rabid following can have. They stole the show with their cover of ELO’s "Don’t Bring Me Down", followed later by their lip-sync dance performance of their single "A Million Ways to be Cruel". What I like most about Controller.Controller is that despite all the setbacks, the band plays with heart. Nirmala has that sex appeal that sometimes seems lacking in Canadian indie music. I don’t mean that girl-next-door appeal of Emily Haines (Metric) or similar female vocalists in bands like Stars and Arcade Fire, but rawer strength that builds up and adds to her music. The band played a fair share of songs off both their full-length X-Amounts and their more danceable EP History, performing all songs strongly and finished up with an encore of cymbal-throwing and buffoonery. Of course, the night wouldn’t be complete without a performance by OK GO of a scene from Les Misérables.
Overall, the evening was just what I needed to send me off on my way and remind me that the music scene in Montreal really isn’t that alienating. Besides, how can it be when the band dedicates a song to you and your journey abroad -- thanks Omar and Alex.
[Wrong Side of the Bed is currently on hiatus while Katie explores a new scene in Melbourne, Australia. Cheers mate!]
SAGE FRANCIS - A Healthy Distrust
By arctor - Homework - 02/08/2005
I couldn’t figure out sometimes whether I liked Sage Francis or not. I mean, I like other stuff that’s in the same vein, so it’s more a matter of not really knowing his work very well I suppose. Having the album in hand seems to have helped. Sage just never makes it to my mp3 player, although being a good indie hip hop supporter I have his whole catalogue up to share (arctor's on tha seek baby). So now this new one got sent to the station, and I’m so darn impressed that I feel like I have to go pay for something from his back catalogue. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I keep going back to A Healthy Distrust, even with a pile of other stuff to check out. I think it’s like, he’s a bright old bastard who has seen the same things as every other rapper, but would rather tell horror stories around a burning oil barrel than battle. Reanimator, Dangermouse, Sixtoo, Will Oldham and others help provide the soundscape, which ranges from distortion to strings to distorted strings that sound like horns. The drums and basslines go Bomb Squad at least once every minute and a half, and for the political peeps out there: lean back! Ghandi and Napoleon are among the historical figures who get the no-holds-barred treatment here. One thing though, the album runs a little short at just under 48 minutes. The average hip hop EP this past year seemed to be 40 minutes long. I would have settled for 10 minutes of dead air and a hidden track. Sage – don’t hold back on us now. I promise I’ll pay for the next one.
[Tune in to Homework Wednesdays from 10pm to midnight]
EVAN DANDO + John Kastner + Elizabeth Powell @ Main Hall
By Alex Huynh - Losing My Edge - 02/08/2006
Nostalgia being the obvious theme of the soirée, there was another common thread among the three artists on the bill: they were to be accompanied only by their own guitar. Often, this works great because of the added emotional resonance, the effect of a song laid bare and naked. Other times, it can simply be boring. With three sets with the same spartan layout, the risk of the latter ran dangerously high. Thankfully, nostalgia can be a powerful weapon.
First up was Elizabeth Powell (Land Of Talk), who erased any doubts of her place on the bill by overtaking the audience with her powerful voice, despite performing the night before with her band and celebrating her birthday. Her voice was constantly breaking but without being whiny or overly vulnerable; instead, it was potent and gave the impression of veering out of control yet always in command. The lyrics might describe the tales, but the real story was told by the vocals. There might have been a few converts after this short gutsy performance.
Having known only The Doughboys through the constant video rotation of "Shine" and not having the foresight of doing my homework by exploring their pre-major label material, nostalgia would have a limited effect on me during John Kastner's set. As it turned out, that wasn't entirely true. The songs sounded familiar because they harked back to that specific era of weary yet hopeful power pop. Most people in the audience, whether they mouthed along or not, have had their heart strings wired to that sound and Kastner did a wonderful job reactivating them.
Anticipation ran high for Evan Dando's return on a Montreal stage since The Lemonheads performed at the Cabaret back in 1994. Adding to the suspense was whether his plane from Boston would arrive in time -- and Dando isn't exactly a shoo-in for border-crossing --- and what condition and mood he'd be in. Opening with "Down About It" and "Being Around" from 1993's Come On Feel The Lemonheads, he dispelled any doubt that this would be a magical night for the hardcore fans. This is where I want to skip ahead the track selection (short answer: he played almost all of them) and explain my position. I am not a hardcore fan. While I enjoyed most of the Lemonheads' output -- and Dando's very pleasant solo album Baby I'm Bored -- I'm torn because I felt a lull even though I can definitely sense the connection between him and his audience. The question is, was the connection one-sided? Hearing songs that colored you a decade ago can certainly reignite feelings you haven't had while attending those Death From Above 1979 shows. Fine, but it seemed like most of the legwork was done by the audience, still under the spell of Dando's easy charm even after years of ups and downs (and downs).
On the other hand, there has always been this effortless earnestness in Dando's songs. He brought that quality to his performance, remaining aloof and untalkative, yet not closed off in the slightest (his short "thank you" after a crowd member's miserable attempt at filling in Juliana Hatfield's 'sunshine' part in "It's About Time" was smile-inducing). In that respect, it would be unfair to say that the show couldn't transcend nostalgia. It did what it set out to do: celebrating a great career in classic Dando fashion. Anything less -- or more to the point, anything more -- would have cheated the fans out of an authentic performance.
[Tune in to Losing My Edge Sundays 2pm - 4pm and Tuesdays 8pm - 10pm]
THE WALKMEN + Mazarin @ Cabaret La Tulipe
By Fraser McCallum - F-Train 120 - 01/27/2006
The Walkmen don’t say a whole lot, but they make up for it in sheer stage presence and an electrifying music delivery. Combining organ-driven melodies with an energetic and tight rhythm section, and the vocal acrobatics of lead singer Hamilton Leithauser, the Walkmen have a very original and dynamic sound that translates into a stunning live show. Armed with an arsenal of new songs from their upcoming third album, the Walkmen returned to Montreal for the first time since December 2004 on January 27th, playing an 80-minute set at La Tulipe.
The night was opened by psychedelic rock newbies Mazarin, who hail from Pennsylvania. This writer only managed to catch three songs of the opener due to the wonderful inconsistency of the green line; however, what was seen was fairly mediocre. Over-loud guitars and clunky drums amidst fairly average vocal deliveries seemed to just leave many yawning and awaiting the headliners. That being said, however, the audience would not be disappointed with the second act.
The night truly began when the five-member New York rockers, the Walkmen, took to the stage to huge applause from the packed La Tulipe crowd. They opened with a guitar-driven new song that had lead singer Leithauser playing rhythm guitar while exploiting his usual sing/shout vocal style right away. The song featured both organ and piano trading melodies and a charging floor-tom driven rhythm. The Walkmen jumped right into a couple of older songs from 2004’s Bows & Arrows after this, playing crowd hits "Hang on Siobhan", "Little House of Savages" and "What’s In It For Me?”. All three Bows tracks were sped up and had Leithauser setting aside his guitar to thrash and scream on the mic, at some points shout-singing so passionately that the veins in his neck looked as though they might just explode all over the front row.
From there, the band slowed down and introduced two more new tracks from the tentatively titled All Hands and the Cook. Both featured Paul Maroon (guitar, piano) Walter Martin (organ) taking turns playing the old clangy-sounding organs which seem to dominate the new album extensively. Perhaps sensing the audience’s disconnect from these new songs Leithauser took an audience suggestion and played Bows favorite "Thinking Of A Dream I Had" during which he climbed atop a stack of amps, throwing his head back to hit the highest notes while drummer Matt Barrick thundered on the toms behind him. This was truly one of the night's most exciting and satisfying tracks, and it was obvious that the band thoroughly enjoyed performing it as well.
The show continued with the defiant-yet-depressing title track from Bows & Arrows, my personal favorite song of the evening. Leithauser’s raspy croon was never more effective and hard-hitting than on the chorus, where the lights went out and only La Tulipe’s disco ball spun light upon the stage. After the final few notes, lead guitarist Maroon immediately launched into the best-known Walkmen song, "The Rat", to huge audience applause. Leithauser was at his best, shedding his guitar and his coat and thrashing around the stage. His voice, although peaking at times, became thick with emotion and he had the entire audience singing along on the dramatic bridge “When I used to go out I’d know everyone I saw/now I go out alone if I go out at allllll!”. This rampaging track had all five Walkmen at their best with razor sharp guitar licks and show-stopping drum-work especially. Following "The Rat" was another new song from All Hands and the Cook, a slower ballad that had Leithauser back on guitar and the other members, save the drummer, rotating on pianos and bass. Then with a simple “thanks Montreal…”, the set was over and the Walkmen left the stage.
It wouldn’t be a Montreal rock show without the granted encore, although it was well-deserved on this night. The Walkmen re-emerged to play three more songs to the happy audience. The first two were a sped-up version of Bows track "My Old Man", then an untitled grungy rock track from the new album. Then for the last song of the evening, they launched into old favorite "We’ve Been Had" from their 2002 debut Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone. This track featured both organ and piano splashed beautifully on top of each other with a warm and weighty bass line from Peter Bauer while Leithuaser changed to a heartfelt croon and stared longingly into audience as he rounded out the anthem and said farewell.
The show was one of the best of the year in this writer’s opinion combining thundering drums, burning guitar hooks but also subtle atmospheric organ and piano to create a beautiful New York sound that builds and transforms masterfully. Lead singer Hamilton Leithauser, unquestionably the band’s leader, pulls the audience into his heartfelt almost bitter ballads before charging back with some of the most passionate and original rock songs in recent years. Leithauser does everything that the Strokes’ Julian Casablancas fails to do with this kind of indie music. Where Casablancas comes across as bored and apathetic, Leithauser stands tall, breathing energetic fervor and sincerity into garage-rock songs of heartbreak and urban defeat. The Walkmen invoke thoughts of other bands like the Interpol and the aforementioned Strokes, but in this live setting they came off as a well-crafted hybrid of the Replacements and Frank Sinatra. The Walkmen’s music, unlike that of a lot of indie rock bands of today, transcends perfectly to the stage. The show was a very dreamlike and exhausting one in an excellent way, filled not with road stories and anecdotes but with both subtle undercurrents and seething, hard-hitting, rock ballads. Here’s hoping for a swift Montreal return for the New York quintet.
[Tune in to F-Train 120 Tuesdays from Noon to 2pm]
CURSED + Cancer Bats + Commando + Compton @ La Sala Rossa
By Angelica - BVST - 01/06/2006
After three long months of hibernation, I decided that seeing Cursed with Cancer Bats at La Sala Rossa would be the perfect antidote to the winter blues. Maybe I should have stayed home. Cursed were brilliant, of course, but I had no doubts about that. It's just too bad that they’re a hardcore band. If they weren't, perhaps going to their shows would be less about defending the scene, and more about rocking the fuck out. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Openers Compton and Commando were pleasing enough. One brought a straight-up punk influence, while the other referenced Maiden with its metallic edge. Which is which? Your guess is as good as mine. Too many 'C' names on one bill -- coupled with the fact that I initially thought Compton Commando was a single band -- made for, well, confusion.
When Cancer Bats came onstage, and every sixteen-year-old in the room worked their way up to the front, I was fully prepared to vehemently dislike them. Too many fancy haircuts onstage at one time coupled with a very young fan base... well, you get the picture. Their set started off shakily with lead singer Liam Cormier bounding around the stage while the crowd eyed him dispassionately, but by the second song things had warmed up considerably. Suddenly all the Terror sweatshirts in the room started to make sense. Branding their sound a mix of hardcore, southern metal and punk rock, most of their songs consist of a single unrelenting breakdown. Now most of you know I like my rock big and dumb, so this should be right up my alley, and while I found them to be quite enjoyable, I wasn’t fully sold, headbanging fun aside. Maybe it's old age, I don't know.
I do know, however, that I was waiting impatiently for Cursed to grace the stage, and when they finally did I wasn't disappointed. At once punishing and poetic, Cursed are one of those rare bands who, when onstage, manage to remain true to their recorded sound without sacrificing the urgency and elasticity of live performance. They ripped through a relatively short set of favorites from both I and II with the signature intensity that continues to impress both fans and newcomers alike. Once again, though, lead singer Chris Collohan should stick to writing brilliant lyrics and avoid between-song banter at all costs. Like the bands before him, Collohan was unable to resist the temptation to bro’ down, and the stream of inanity that punctuated the set was excruciating. The only item of note: there is a third record on its way which will likely be called -- hold your breath -- III, and from the new tracks performed that night, it sounds like it’s gonna be killer.
Can I end this without a curmudgeonly rebuke to the hardcore scene? Hell no. Last time I saw Cursed, they shared a genre-bustin’ bill with Bionic, and it was a far better time all around. Rockers love Cursed, and hardcore kids can certainly appreciate Bionic’s ferocity and off-kilter time signatures. Rather than concentrating on counting scene points, everyone seemed out to have fun and rock out. I’d be more than happy to see any or all of these bands again, but not on a similar lineup. I’m getting increasingly tired of going to hardcore shows and seeing dour faces grudgingly nodding along to the music. In fact, that night, the only people that appeared to be enjoying themselves were members of the supporting bands. Five guys grabbing the mic and going apeshit in an ocean of motionlessness does not a party make, however. Maybe it’s the indie rock effect – everyone’s too cool to have any fun anymore. Promoters, pay attention: avoid the cooler-than-thou clusterfuck by throwing a rock band on the bill. Who knows, you might even be able to teach the black hoodie brigade how to have a little fun…
[Tune in to BVST every Thursday 6pm - 8pm]
FEIST + Paso Mino @ Metropolis
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By Christie Van der Burg - Black Tongue Radio - 01/17/2006
With nothing else but herself, Feist walked out on stage, no guitar, no back-up band. The chattering audience packed into the Metropolis, stopped and from then on could not help but to focus all attention on her. The crowd was captivated within the first few seconds, hooked through their dropped jaws and reeled in. An overwhelming amount of ambiance is portrayed with each note exiting her mouth. The calm mood of the show is similar to what is felt sitting around a campfire or a table at a dark, candlelight and smoky bar. Feist does not confine within one genre of music but incorporates various influences from funk, pop, jazz, punk and rock, fusing them together to produce utter essence. Her band joined her on and off throughout the show in a complementary fashion. Like the wand of a fairy godmother, they were a tool in which this singer could further provide her magic and done in good style. As with most Arts & Crafts bands, fellow friends came out to join the main act on stage: Paso Mino, the opening band who can normally be heard playing for Jason Colette, as well as some members of the Stills, specifically Liam O'Neil (the gentleman playing saxophone who can also be heard at Barfly every Thursday for Jazz Night). In doing this, the musicians clearly demonstrate how much they each sincerely enjoy playing music and entertaining a crowd. It would be difficult to find one who did not enjoy the Feist show; if and if one was to be discovered, I would say they have no comprehension of beauty, for she clearly demonstrates that beauty is not always a concrete object or image, but something which can be heard and felt through music.
[Tune in to Black Tongue Radio every Wednesday 9pm - 10pm]
MARK GARDENER + Goldrush @ Main Hall
By Louis Rozza - Hooked On Sonics - 12/06/2005
Former Ride singer/guitarist Mark Gardener made his way to Montreal for the first time in his career, touring in support of his first solo album These Beautiful Ghosts, released on the NYC-based label UFO. It is hard to believe that he never performed in the city, considering that his former band was one of the most popular bands of the shoegazer era of the early 90’s. Based out of Oxford, England, Ride were one of a kind, releasing some of the best music of that time and ultimately disbanding in 1995. It has been ten long years for Mark Gardener; he had sporadically collaborated with other bands over that time and he did a bit of solo touring here and there, but this marks his full return to the music scene. I always considered Gardener the key member of Ride and have been waiting patiently for any new material from him. At the same time, I have watched his former writing partner in Ride, Andy Bell, release two solid albums with his now-defunct Brit-Pop band Hurricane #1, and play bass in Oasis since 1999.
Opening tonight was Goldrush, who double as Gardener's backing band and play on the album. They are a really cool Oxford band that take a bit of Ride, but add their own texture, mixing shoegazer and country rock to some fine results. They played an inspired set, and some of their songs were very climactic and built into a nice wall of sound.
As Mark Gardener took the stage, I couldn’t help feeling excited that I could finally see one of my musical heroes live. I was curious to see what his voice and music would sound like, since I only bought the album at the show and did not have a chance to listen to it beforehand. He started the set by thanking the audience for coming out on a Tuesday night and proceeded to play the first song on the album Snow in Mexico. As he continued to play songs from the album, I could sense how good the album must be. The songs were intimate and reflective, the sound reminiscent of Ride’s underrated 1994 album Carnival of Light. Toward the middle of the set he stopped, thanked the crowd again and said that the next song would be from a “little indie band I used to play in” and proceeded to play “Taste” taken from Ride’s best album, 1990’s Nowhere. I could see and hear the audience get excited over this and it sounded amazing, just like it sounded on record. Later he played one of my all-time favorite songs, “Vapour Trail”, also taken from Nowhere. This was one of the best pre-Christmas presents I ever had; I was hoping he would play some Ride songs, but never thought I would hear this one live. Near the end, Mark was presented with a surprise birthday cake, and Goldrush started to play "Happy Birthday" as the crowd sang along. He seemed a bit taken aback by the gesture, thanking everyone and inviting the crowd to stay after the set for “a piece of cake and a chat”. All in all, a great night.
[Tune in to HOOKED ON SONiCS every Tuesday from 6pm to 8pm.]
MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE + Thrice + Circa Survive @ Stade Uniprix
By Hallie Seline - 11/29/2005
Going to see My Chemical Romance at the Stade was like being in a packed stadium filled with double personalities. When these people are hanging out before and after the shows, they are mostly entirely normal human beings, clad in dark, anti-this and -that clothing, and moody makeup. However, as soon as the music starts, the floor becomes a battlefield and it’s every man for himself. Of course, if you can’t handle the mosh pit, then stay out of it. However, it is apparent that one’s primitive need to be in the front has begun to get a little out of hand when someone is bashing into little girls’ ribs with his elbows just to get him and his girlfriend up to the front of the stage — especially when the said person is twice the size of those around him. Normally I salute the rules of the mosh pit; push, shove and go crazy, but if one man’s down, help him up. I’ve been noticing this type of lack of respect growing in many concert scenes lately, and the arrogance is tending to get worse. Bottom line, if you are fortunate enough to have missed the vertically-challenged gene, and you can see perfectly fine, please do not go punching out a five-foot-nothing female to be closer.
Aside from getting caught up in the politics of the mosh pit, for the most part, the show was hard-hitting, aggressive and wore its black little heart on its sleeve. At the beginning I, along with others I had talked to, were quite disappointed with the first band, Circa Survive. There was nothing enthralling or even remotely interesting to their bland screaming/singing vocals, and overdone riffs and drumbeats. Thrice, however, definitely picked it up from where Circa Survive had dropped the ball. Being the crowd-pleasers that they are, they incorporated the old and the new and amped up their listeners, preparing them for the band of the night, My Chemical Romance.
After a painfully long wait, the familiar poignant vocals and brooding instrumentals pierced through the pre-show chatter, and a wave of excitement consumed the crowd as the curtains dropped, revealing the faces of the music: Gerard Way, Ray Toto, Frank Iero, Matt Pelissier and Mikey Way. From that moment on, the show reached a high note and remarkably stayed there. I had seen My Chemical Romance once before and had enjoyed them, but hadn’t held much of a memory of their show. However on this night, they seemed to grab the heart of the crowd as we passionately joined in with the cynical, humorous and emotional lyrics. Way’s powerful vocals and charismatic stage presence pleased the crowd and the rest of the band was just as strong with their hard-hitting blend of guitar, bass and drums. Most, if not all, songs from their second album Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge were featured, quite a few from their first album and a brand new song dedicated to a girl in the audience, which felt fresh but with the same great MCR vibe. Aside from a few technical glitches with the sound system, the entire show went very well, ending in an encore performance and a blast of red and silver confetti — as all concerts should end.
[Hallie Seline is a first-time freelance writer for CJLO.com; Emo is her big bad boyfriend. Also, this review does not in any way reflect the opinions of CJLO as we love the sound of elbows crashing into little girls' ribs.]
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