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SEU JORGE + Carioca Freitas @ Club Soda
By Trevor Kiernander - Ones and Zeroes - 09/10/2005
For those of you who keep up to date on reading these reviews, you may have noticed that I can be a tad bit cynical (in regards to shows, not movies). My reviews usually teeter between how great the show was, and my sheer disgust and contempt for the audience. So this is what I was conditioning myself for with Seu Jorge playing at Club Soda on September 10.
For those of you who aren’t aware of the name Seu Jorge, he’s the guy singing the Portuguese Bowie covers in Wes Anderson’s The Life Aquatic, and played Knockout Ned in Fernando Meirelles’ City Of God. I had not heard of Seu Jorge before I saw The Life Aquatic -- though I did see City Of God first, but I didn’t make the connection -- and with all the hype around it, I was expecting this outing to be jam-packed with hipsters waiting to hear Ziggy Stardust. Boy was I wrong, and glad that I was. Though a good chunk of the audience made the event feel like a tam-tam pre-party, those that were there, for the most part, seemed to be genuine fans, and were there completely for the music.
So now, on to the show. I don’t speak Spanish or Portuguese. Hell, I can barely speak French! And not to sound all clichéd, but this wasn’t an issue as the music and the vibe were what mattered. I made it to Club Soda about part way through opening band Carioca Freitas’ set, and was thoroughly impressed. I felt the soundmen should have been on their game a little bit more, as it felt like they were lobby musicians with everyone trying to talk over them, but they put on a great performance nonetheless. They also got the audience moving just enough to give Seu Jorge a great reception. There is definitely something to be said for honest music, and the way it can get people moving (and none of this Enriquez honesty where most of the moving are people flailing there arms in hysterics). Even people in the back and at the bar were getting into it. Even this pseudo-hippie/surfer guy with a scraggly blond ponytail and sleeveless shirt -- growling at himself in the bathroom mirror as he did up his belt with the ferocity of Tom Green begging for his dad’s acceptance with sausage -- seemed to be enjoying things (at least I would hope). But I got out of that scene quick.
The show had a great pace too, where about the midpoint of the performance, the percussionists took to the stage for a 15-minute jam session. I could just see all the tam-tammers thinking ‘Doood, they are totally speaking to us maaaan’. As the show rolled on, there seemed to be an endless barrage of encores though, which kind of made me antsy. And after the fourth encore, I left so I cannot report as to if he dropped a "Changes" or "Suffragette City". I would like to think that maybe he shares some of the same cynicism, but I highly doubt it. Save Bowie for your CD player, and make note to check out Seu Jorge the next time he makes it through to Montreal.
[Ones And Zeroes is currently on hiatus]
KMFDM @ Cabaret La Tulipe
By Johnny Suck - Turn Down the Suck - 10/06/2005
Disclaimer: I’m not a KMFDM fan. While I appreciate them, I’ve never really got into them. I only have one album and had never seen them before this show.
Since I’m too cool to be punctual, I missed opener The Birthday Massacre. I guess that La Tulipe is one of those good venues where shows actually start on time. A quick search tells me that TBM is a “new wave post-retro band”. I don’t know what that means, but I would have liked to have found out. Oh well.
I was a little apprehensive about how much I would enjoy KMFDM, not being a fan and all, but they had me sold about 30 seconds into the first song. This is going to be good - I thought, and it was. The intensity of the music was what really did it for me. It wasn’t just fast, it wasn’t just heavy; there was something else to it that gave an extra edge that so many bands are missing. I don’t know what exactly it was that gave them that extra edge - sorry, I’m not that good of a reviewer - but man it was great. Maybe it was twenty years of experience, maybe it was the confidence from having such a strong album behind them, maybe it was just that fact they are KMFDM and not just some shitty local band playing a $5 bar show. Regardless of what it was, it explained their popularity and made me second-guess my existence as a non-KMFDM-fan.
I regret not taking the opportunity to listen to their new album Hau Ruk before seeing the show (I’ve listened to it since) because their set drew heavily from it. About six or seven songs, including “Free Your Hate”, “Hau Ruk”, “Mini Mini Mini” and “New American Century” were played from it. Also notable were my favourites “A Drug Against A War”, “WWWIII” and “Megalomaniac”, which were all saved until the end unsurprisingly, and “DIY” which was played for the second encore.
The sound, while slightly dull, was as good as it can ever be expeted to be. Effects were limited to lights and smoke, which is fine, except that strobes were used way too much and went from cool to annoying by the third song. Stage banter was kept to the absolute minimum, but boy did the crowd pop for the “Bonsoir, comment ça va?” that came after the first song. All the extras weren’t missed though, since KMFDM had it where it counts. When it was all over, I was pretty happy, the crowd generally seemed happy, and even KMFDM looked happy. All in all, it was a damn fine show.
[Turn Down The Suck, Mondays, 1:30-3:00pm]
DOVES @ Spectrum
By Katie Seline - Wrong Side of the Bed - 09/13/2005
So the problem with Doves is that they are incredible. I say this with the utmost sincerity and mean it in the most positive light possible. I saw them the last time they came to Montreal at Club Soda and they absolutely blew me away. I had just moved to Montreal a few months before and this was one of my first non-stadium shows. It’s been over three years, and that show still remains one of the best that I have ever seen in this city. It’s hard not to like Doves’ music. Each of their three albums offers something a little different, but all have that sincere sound of a band that remains just under the radar. All this to say that I had a lingering feeling in the days leading up to the show that there was a distinct possibility of disappointment -- and for the first few songs of the set, I could feel this fear becoming reality. Much to my surprise, however, Doves’ set kept getting better and better, and while the show never quite surpassed the last, it felt like the band gave everyone exactly what they came for.
I love all three of the band’s albums in different ways and while I really enjoy their latest release, Some Cities, it’s probably my least favourite one. I thus wondered if the show would be mostly comprised of the new material. In the end, the set was dominated by a lot of the stronger songs off of Some Cities -- as was to be expected -- but it felt as though more prominence was put on the older stuff from Last Broadcast and Lost Souls. It almost seemed as though the band truly enjoyed playing these songs more. Halfway through the show, it was pointed out to me that the sound was a bit off. Whether it was the acoustics or the balance, I am not sure. As the show progressed, the problem remedied itself, but it was still unfortunate that the newer music was frontloaded into the first half of the set. While still good, performances of “Snowdon” “Sky Starts Falling” and “Almost Forgot Myself” left me wanting to hear them again as something just didn’t seem quite right.
The only other negative aspect of the show was the projections. In their last show, Doves backed up the music with amazing film and video projections behind them on huge screens. While the Spectrum is one of my favourite venues in the city, their stage just isn’t quite suited for this. The band kept with tradition and did the same visual set-up for this show. However, the space they had just wasn’t big enough. Often the images got lost in the lighting and could barely be seen.
The above aside, once I got settled into the music, I really did enjoy the show. Everything just seemed to get better from beginning to end. The band played a new song “Eleven Miles Out”, as well as almost all of my favourites from all their records. They ended the show with the song that gave them their ten minutes of fame back in 2002 (“Caught by the River”), “One of These Days” from the new album, and “The Cedar Room” -- a very pleasant surprise. Even more pleasant was their encore, which opened with “M62 Song” and “Here It Comes”, sung by drummer Andy Williams. The show ended with “Some Cities” and finally an amazing performance of “There Goes the Fear”, the other hit single off Last Broadcast.
It’s really hard to go to a show with high expectations. The only other artist that I’ve seen a number of times and who has remained consistent is -- believe it or not -- Matthew Good and -- I’m almost embarrassed to mention -– Blink-182. Setting standards for the performance of a band is unrealistic as artists continuously change over time. I’ve learned this from Doves. As a band that has always remained in the shadows of Brit bands like Coldplay and Radiohead, they are perhaps content to remain just out of the spotlight. Either way, they have a good following of fans and their shows are great. It helped to see this particular show with two friends who had never seen them before, and to run into someone I knew who had. That person felt the same way as I did -- it was not as good as can be, but nonetheless really good. The other two loved it. So in the end, I guess that’s really all that matters.
[Katie rocks out your Wednesday afternoons with Wrong Side Of The Bed from 4-6pm only on cjlo.com]
STEREOPHONICS + Augustana @ Cabaret
By Antonella F. - The Siamese Libertines - 05/15/2005
What happens when you combine the melodic introspection of newbies Augustana with the raw jocosity of veterans Stereophonics? A gratifying show for both mind and matter.
Since I had never heard of opening band Augustana, I contented myself to sit nestled in a corner and watch from the sidelines with pen and notepad in hand. As soon as the quartet from San Diego began their set, however, I felt compelled –- in a way I’ve never been -– to leave my seat and walk towards the stage to join an equally-mesmerized crowd. I was immediately captivated by the beauty radiating from singer Dan Layus. Not only in his attractiveness, but in the way he channeled songs to the audience. His halcyon voice coupled with his schoolboy charm gave relevance and candor to the emotion in their music. Bolstered by orchestration that was atmospheric yet polished, Augustana managed to be passionate without excessive sentimentality. With the naturalness of the band’s performance, one wouldn’t immediately assume these boys hadn’t even released their first album yet. Enchanted by the road-tripping, reflective sounds of “Stars and Boulevards”, “Wasteland”, “Boston” and “Hotel Roosevelt”, I almost forgot that this was still the opening act. To enrich the experience even more, Layus invited the audience to free band EPs after the show, where I had the opportunity to commend the soft-spoken frontman in person.
The gears shifted from wistful to corporeal the minute vocalist Kelly Jones and his crew hit the stage. Kicking off the show with “Superman”, Stereophonics set the precedent for a concert with high energy and virility. Jones’ swagger and perfectly abrasive vocals atop bluesy rhythms fashioned a sexy edge that was sustained throughout the rest of the evening. The band played the best from Word Gets Around through Language. Sex. Violence. Other?, rocking the crowd with the likes of “Thousand Trees”, “Just Looking”, “Rewind” and “Brother” -- I have never seen so many people air-guitaring in the same room. In addition to just enjoying Stereophonics’ performance, it was a delight to hear the singer’s fun, anecdotal introductions to the songs -- especially when he provided explanation of the Welsh expression for their song titled “Check My Eyelids For Holes”.
It may be an exception when two bands with divergent styles and sensibilities complement each other to create an all-around entertaining show, but that evening at Le Cabaret, Augustana and Stereophonics did just that.
[Tune into The Siamese Libertines every Thursday from 4pm-6pm]
CLAP YOUR HANDS SAY YEAH! @ Main Hall
By Alex Huynh - Losing My Edge - 09/02/2005
It sure didn't take long now, did it? Only a year after music blogs started a "grass-roots" movement that almost singlehandedly kickstarted cult followings for eventual critical darlings M.I.A., Arcade Fire and the Go! Team, we are already wary of the music industry vultures that have infiltrated this new way of promoting bands. It started with the eye-rolling that came with the incessant and now accepted pairing of Pitchfork and Arcade Fire, it continued with the increased attention labels gave to those music blogs by providing them with advance promos and we are now at the crossroads with a New York band called Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!.
The hype for the famously unsigned group seemed so strangely calculated that there is a discernible backlash -- against a band that quite frankly are miles away from even being blips on the radar, no less. Yet their self-produced, self-released and self-titled album quickly ran out of stock once the review was posted up on Pitchfork and their live shows have been selling out, all basically through the power of the Internet. The nagging feeling persists, however, that we are being played. No matter, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! is a wonderful album that manages to tug at the right chords and straddles the line between desperation and urgency. But in order to finally legitimize this act as a real band, one that could inch a place into your personal history, they needed their live shows to shatter this feeling that Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! is merely a well-conceived creation.
In that regard, their first performance in Montreal failed. To be fair, the rules are different and stricter for a band in this unique position. That is why it was disappointing that a group cunning enough to get where they are, would plod through the opening number when a statement was needed. The vocal mix was abrasive and maintained at that level for the first few songs, serving only to give ammunition to haters of Alec Ounsworth's distinctive yet familiar style. Overall, the band played uninspiredly and sloppily without much in the way of charisma. Thankfully, there are a handful of songs that are so good that they manage to rise about these shortcomings, particularly "In This Home On Ice" and "Upon This Tidal Wave Of Young Blood". Still, these loaded and emotionally volatile songs are ultimately wasted on this unspectacular performance. They deserved to be carved into our memories, like all great songs are.
Surely, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! did not ask for all of this. Unfair expectations are placed on their shoulders by fickle fans and an overly enthusiastic press. This would burn out a lot of folks, so perhaps they did give us everything they had. Word is that they were held back at the border and didn't have time for a sound check. However, one still walks away from the show feeling that this was not a hungry band. And because of that, they feel barely worth the trouble to defend against the kneejerk haters. If you can't stick up for a band that you like, where's the emotional investment? This question wouldn't arise if it wasn't for the fact that their music on record is capable of building into genuinely euphoric moments. It is warm and exciting, and it seems to come more from the heart than the brain. Yet live, it appears that the opposite is closer to the truth. So then, are we being played?
[Tune in to Losing My Edge Sundays 2pm - 4pm and Tuesdays 8pm - 10pm]
DREDG + Pacer + Sign Of One @ Cabaret La Tulipe
By Mikey B - The Lonesome Strangers - 08/22/2005
Most people working for an underground radio station would jump at the opportunity to see a free show, any free show. Even if the show in question takes place in a few hours, it’s still a free show. Just hearing the word “guestlist” in a sentence will make you jump like a trout into the rock 'n roll boat. Luckily for me, the band I’d be seeing was California’s Dredg, who were making their first ever stop in Montreal.
Opening for Dredg was Sign Of One. I felt privileged to have only caught three minutes of their short performance; I can’t (or don't have to) give an opinion on a band after hearing only one song. Having heard that song, I turned to my friend, and in a Homer Simpson-style of muttering said, “heyyy, those guys reeeeeaaaalllly sucked”. Of course my friend said she liked them and had met the bassist. Backtracking as I usually do, I of course stated, "well, I’m sure they’re nice guys".
Next up on the bill was Montreal’s Pacer. I had heard of them before, but never fully listened to them. They didn’t disappoint. Often sounding like Tool with whinier and more cohesive vocals, Pacer’s set was relatively strong. I wouldn’t count myself as a big fan of prog-rock, or bands that are influenced by a lot of prog rock (Mars Volta, Coheed & Cambria); still, Pacer was able to hold my attention for the duration of their set.
On to Dredg, a band that has been recommended to me for the last few months by co-workers and indie music gods alike. What a name...DREDG… sounded dirty, sounded crappy, sounded like a awful Sylvester Stallone movie from the 90’s. The lousy name aside, I couldn’t help but be impressed by the near 90-minute performance. Having been around since 1996, their third studio album Catch Without Arms came out in June, and is probably the only Dredg album you’ll find at your local record distributor. Did I mention it was produced by Terry Date (Deftones, Pantera, White Zombie)?.
Upon first arrival to the show, I really had no idea what I was in for. Looking around I saw a lot of people decked out in classic rock T-shirts. I began to worry when the total amount of Rush T-shirts spotted exceeded five. Those worries were put aside once the rocking commenced, as the band began playing an ultra-tight set of songs touching upon an assortment of musical styles and influences. Calling Dredg an alt-rock-prog band seems like somewhat of a narrow description having seen them play live. Lead man Gavin Hayes’ vocals aim to soothe, as they seem to stay constant throughout Dredg’s songs and mesh well with the band’s overall dynamics, which go from loud to soft, and fast to slow in a heartbeat. There’s a whole slew of influences stemming from 80’s pop (U2 and the Police), 90’s loud rock (Deftones, Tool, early Incubus) to 70’s prog rock & funk. Really, there is a virtual cornucopia of genres here. Let’s just say that these guys are a bunch of hippies that really appreciate music in its entirety.
The crowd seemed quite impressed with the performance, as was I. There was not much crowd interaction during the set, which didn’t seem to bother me much since it was never really needed. Most of the time, Hayes would finish a song and say: “thank you for listening”. He said it at least six times throughout, and somehow made it sound genuine each time. That’s what I liked about these guys: genuine, hard-working musicians that didn’t act like rock stars, even when they’re up on stage.
For 9.99$ a pop at HMV, they’re worth a listen.
[Tune in to The Lonesome Strangers every Tuesday from noon to 2pm]
THE DEAD KENNEDYS @ Club Soda
By Sandré & Matt Matthews - Idle Minds - 08/13/2005
Note: The following is a transcribed, taped conversation between Idle Minds alumni Sandré and Matt Matthews.
Sandré: Well grab my crotch and call me a whore! If it isn't Matt Matthews in the flesh!
Matt: It is, and don't mind if I do! Whore!!!
Sandré: So I didn't talk to you about the DK show the other night. So, what did you think? Was it worth the money?
Matt: I don't know, I didn't pay!
Together: HAHAHAHA! (high-fives all around)
Sandré: No seriously... what did you think?
Matt: Meh.
Sandré: Meh?
Matt: You heard me... meh. It wasn't bad, but it really wasn't a memorable show.
Sandré: Unmemorable?
Matt: Uhmm... yeah. It was like watching a decent Dead Kennedys cover band that happened to have three original members.
Sandré: Yeah, but the new dude did alright. He knew the words and stuff, and thankfully he didn't try to sound like Jello too much.
Matt: Ya, but I know the words too. I should have been up there.
Sandré: Ya... so why weren't you.
Matt: (dejected) I got eliminated in the 2nd round.
Sandré: Cheer up, maybe you'll make it onto the Dead Kennedys Idol reject show.
Matt: I can dream!
Sandré: Let's cut whatshisface some slack... no one can replace Jello Biafra.
Matt: Actually, the guys name is Jeff Penalty, and let me tell you, he ain't no Michale Graves either. For some odd reason, I enjoyed the "Misfits" reunion a lot more than this.
Sandré: (laughs) At least he's a not a Republican.
Matt: Amen.
Sandré: Speaking of Republicans, what was the deal with "California Über Alles"? They still had the Jerry Brown lyrics... Where's the Arnie?
Matt: Kind of hard to rhyme the word Schwarzenegger with... well... anything.
Sandré: (singing with the accent) "I am governor Schwarzenegger... I am down with all the nig..."
Matt: Watch your mouth.
Sandré: But I'm talking about Arnold!
Matt: I can dig it!
Sandré: They did change the lyrics for "Bleed For Me", mentioning Cowboy Georgie.
Matt: Actually, ya... that was pretty decent of them. But one little change to the lyrics doesn't make up for not having Jello. Everyone loves Jello!
Sandré: Thank god they didn't try to mimic those typical Jello rants. That would have been pretty weak.
Matt: Well, they did have a little rant against MTV/Muchmusic before "MTV - Get Off The Air"
Sandré: Ya... that was pretty formulaic.
Matt: Peligro's "Nazi Punks Fuck Off" intro rant was pretty solid. But holy crapsheet, I rolled my eyes when they did that whole rock 'n' roll intro bit. Musical fanfare for every name Jeff Penalty announced.
Sandré: What? You didn't like the East Bay Ray chant they started?
Matt: (groan)
Sandré: The crowd response was actually pretty good.
Matt: Ya, but those little kinder-punks don't know any better.
Sandré: Don't you sound like a jaded old man...
Matt: And let me tell you... back in my day, people knew how to stagedive. None of this getting up on stage and standing there looking like a deer stuck in the headlights. Get up on stage and then jump... it's not hard dagnabbit!
Sandré: So in the end, what exactly was the point of this "reunion"?
Matt: Money, of course.
Sandré: And the chicks! They probably haven't gotten laid since the Reagan-era. But, you can't fault them for trying to make a living... it's a job, and a better one than I got.
Matt: True dat.
Sandré: Anyway, I gotta jet. Later Poop.
Matt: Later Choote.
Setlist:
- Forward To Death
- Winnebego Warrior
- Police Truck
- Buzzbomb
- Let's Lynch The Landlord
- Rawhide
- Kill The Poor
- Government Flu
- MTV - Get Off The Air
- Too Drunk To Fuck
- Moon Over Marin
- Nazi Punks Fuck Off
- California Über Alles
1st Encore:
- Bleed For Me
- Viva Las Vegas
- Holiday In Cambodia
2nd Encore
:
- Riot
- Chemical Warfare
[Tune in to The Idle Minds every Sunday from 4pm to 6pm]
UNDEROATH + These Arms Are Snakes + The Chariot @ Club Soda
By Omar Goodness - Hooked On Sonics - 04/23/2005
Let’s get this out of the way early. It’s common knowledge around these parts that I listen to all sorts of music. Heck, I even have an unhealthy addiction to easy listening, adult-contemporary (Lionel Richie, you genius, you). My CD collection includes both Dillinger Escape Plan and Norah Jones. And yes, I do like emo, screamo, post-hardcore, emo-core and whatever else you want to call it. Now, this doesn’t mean I go around writing poetry in a diary, constantly muse on how the world has continuously let me down, or spend copious amounts of time adjusting my bangs or dying my hair black. Uh, no. Every genre has its fair amount of bad bands, but lately it’s been understandable why people have this negative stigma attached to the weepy punk genre. There’s just so many horrible bands now, and the Thursday clones out there rival the Helmet clones of the nu-metal era. Translation: let’s see how far we can water this music down and still sucker the kids into loving it. Yeah, it’s gone pretty far. That being said, I can honestly say when we received the latest Underoath CD They’re Only Chasing Safety at château CJLO, I had understandably low expectations.
Already touted by The Kids© as being “amazing” and the latest “band to watch”, I had some reservations about Underoath. These were the same Kids putting lame-o bands like Story Of The Year and The Used on pedastals. These were the same Kids buying Senses Fail and Early November CDs. Good God, people, these were the same Kids who made Chris Carraba a platinum-selling artist. I lost my faith in The Kids© a long time ago, but Underoath pleasantly surprised me, so much to the point that I ranked their sophomore album They’re Only Chasing Safety as the 9th Best Punk-Hardcore CD of 2004 in my Year End Column. They’re not ground-breaking or genre-defining. They’re not doing anything original or anything that hasn’t been done before. The thing is, Underoath do what they do well, and have the hooks and panache to satisfy. Looks like The Kids© were right. All hope is not lost.
Getting a little late to the venue, I was expecting to have missed Fear Before the March of Flames, which sucks because I’ve heard they are amazing, but I couldn’t do anything about it. What I was really making an effort for, was to get there in time to catch some of These Arms Are Snakes who were the added bonus to the bill, and the sweetener that enticed me to go out to this show. Alas, the only These Arms Are Snakes songs I heard that night were the ones coming out of my car’s speakers. It took me 45 minutes to find parking . Obviously, it was a Saturday night in Montreal, yet somehow I did not factor this into my time calculations. Good job, brah. Strike one. Sooooo, I ended up missing These Arms Are Snakes, chalk it down as the umpteenth time I’ve somehow managed to miss them at shows. Strike two.
I arrive and make my way to the men’s room to see a slew of guys at the sinks in front of the mirror applying “product” and/or slathering water into their hair, making certain their shaggy do’s were messed up just right. Seriously, there were at least eight guys there “coiffing”; truly a sight to be seen. The fact that my hair is somewhat long and has the tendancy to hang in my face sometimes led to one conclusion: I need a haircut. And fast. Strike three (note: hair has since been cut). Grooming aside, how was the show?
The Chariot, featuring ex-Norma Jean vocalist Joshua Scagin, took the stage to the crowd’s delight, and I gotta say I was pretty shocked that so many people were into them for such a relatively new band. I’m not really a fan of their brand of metalcore, but they were quite the energetic bunch of performers. Bouncing all over the stage, the quartet was never at a loss for energy, Scagin almost performed one song entirely on his head. Guitarist Keller Harbin was spazzing out so much that his guitar was flying all over the place, I was waiting for the strap to give way and for it to go hurling into the crowd or at one of his band members. No dice, looks like dude uses some heavy duty duct tape.
Alas, it was The Kids© who stole the show here. Parting like the red sea and allowing ample room on the floor for various crowd members to take turns and go in the center and, uh, punch and kick the air. CJLO Station Manager Metal Dave has assured me that he’s been at hardcore shows where some dudes manage to do the solo-punching thing and somehow manage to look “cool.” Hard to believe, considering that looking like an “idiot” and looking “cool” are usually mutually exclusive. Needless to say, they were quite the source of enjoyment for me, and some old dude who kept on taking pictures of the fracas from the balcony. Well played, fashioncore kids, well played.
Ending their set off with a shout-out to their man Jesus Christ and the Big Man Upstairs, the resulting deafening silence was quickly broken with another frenetic hardcore tune before they packed it in. The odd thing, during their entire set there was a group of five guys standing behind them. Just standing there…hangin’. Anyhow, The Chariot? A-OK, but not really my cup o’ tea..
Letting the stage fill with smoke, and with a backdrop of the cover art of their They’re Only Chasing Safety adorning the stage, Underoath finally took the stage. Lights started flashing around, mini spotlights swooped around the room, the smoke continued to rise, the band kicked in, and the place exploded. The kids were going ballistic for the band’s melodic emo-ish metalcore, so much so that I saw at least three kids leap off the balcony into the pit…yowza.
The band was giving The Chariot a run for their money in the energy department. Singer Spencer Chamberlain was bouncing all over the place, vocalist/drummer Aaron Gillespie kept perfect time while singing and thrashing his head and arms all around, but the MVP here was keyboardist Chris Dudley, quite possibly the most energetic keyboardist ever. He almost becomes the focal point during Underoath’s performance. At one point, someone from backstage ran on and hopped on his back and Dudley kept on hopping about and working the keys at the same time.
The segue from the short “Blue Note” into “It’s Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door” was seamless and was the mid-set highlight, with Dudley managing sequencers and keys to create the electronic atmospherics of the songs. Geez, they didn’t even need a recording of the choir part in the bridge of “It’s Dangerous Business…”, the crowd was singing it. The new song played seemed to fit well also, gearing more towards an atmospheric, yet more technical Refused-like hardcore.
If things were already going well by that point, they really took off when the band launched into the popcore of their single “Reinventing Your Exit”. I’ve only seen a handful of shows where a band has connected so much with an audience, to such an extent where everyone in the club feels including in the performance, no matter how far away from the stage they are. Underoath reached that level that night, but here’s the kicker: if “Reinventing the Exit” got the kids up, the last song of the set -- coincidentally the best song off of They’re Only Chasing Safety -- “A Boy Brushed Red Living in Black and White” brought the house down. I’m dead serious when I say I had a huge grin on my face watching the entire Club Soda erupt. This was mindblowingly good, and the whole time afterwards I just kept on thinking, man, of all bands to accomplish that, Underoath. They’re continuously surprising me.
That brings me back to The Kids©. Say what you will, and I can criticize them all I want regarding their fashion sense or musical taste like I did above, it’s shows like these that are the most enjoyable to me. Forget the dusty hipsters who’ll love you today, but ditch you when Spin, Rolling Stone, or some MP3 blog christens someone else as the “new saviour of music”, it’s the kids who’ll be faithful. It’s the kids who’ll count the days until your show. It’s the kids who are totally passionate about your band. They’re not at the show because of some hype or buzz, they’re there because they are willing to put their entire being into the notes and music coming from their favourite band. They hang on every word. And I can honestly say, there’s nothing more exciting than seeing a large group of people complelety go berserk over three minutes or so of music and singing.
And the show? The whole shebang was done at 11pm. God bless these punk shows.
[Tune in to HOOKED ON SONiCS every Tuesday from 6pm to 8pm]
JUDAS PRIEST - Angel of Retribution
By Zombieboy - The Almighty Riff - 03/01/2005
Few bands truly define heavy metal more than Judas Priest. From their onstage presence, memorable anthems and incredible riffs, Judas Priest in their prime were unstoppable, and produced some of the best albums heavy rock has ever seen. Sad Wings of Destiny changed the sound of metal in the mid-70’s, and British Steel showed that quality heavy metal and commercial viability were not mutually exclusive terms. Their swan song with original singer Rob Halford, 1990’s Painkiller, proved to be a fitting end to an era of music and further solidified their place in metal history.
That being said, I had reservations when Judas Priest announced the return of Rob Halford last year. While the reunion was inevitable given the current trend of older bands getting back together for one last shot -- and a few more bucks -- the past few albums from both the resurrected Judas Priest and Halford’s solo project have been considerably less than spectacular. The Tim “Ripper” Owens years for Priest saw two confused and sloppy studio albums come to fruition, while Halford went on to make several cookie-cutter metal discs on his own that may not have been terrible but were certainly nothing to get too excited over. Would the reunion spark the creative juices of all involved and prove that the sum is truly greater than its individual parts? Unfortunately, the answer is a dull “not really”. While not a complete waste of time, Angel of Retribution falls into the category of pure mediocrity -- not bad enough to have a laugh over, but not good enough to be entirely enjoyable. Instead, we’re left with an album that shines for several moments, before returning to the sound of a band desperately trying to recapture its past but seemingly having no clue as to what made them so damn good to begin with.
The album starts promisingly enough with "Judas Rising", with a building intro reminiscent of their classic "Victim of Changes", and continues with a heavy, driving riff. "Worth Fighting For" is also a catchy anthem that’ll be sure to be a hit at their reunion concerts, and the ballad "Angel" proves to be a bit of a surprise, with a great moody arpeggio riff and soft vocals that recall their early 70’s material, as does the too-short "Eulogy". But these few bright spots cannot save Angel of Retribution. Perhaps the biggest letdown of the album is the lack of any real memorable riffs. Judas Priest in the past had an incredible talent for building a song around a great riff, and sadly they’re all but missing here. While the aforementioned "Judas Rising" and "Worth Fighting For" are acceptable, their strength is due more to the weakness of the rest of the songs rather than being great on their own merit. Too many tracks fall into a bland “chug-a-lug” riff pattern, with little variation in mood or tempo. "Demonizer", "Wheels of Fire" and "Hellrider" all suffer from plodding, dull riffs and uninteresting choruses. Even KK Downing and Glen Tipton’s solos sound forced and lack the slickness they usually possess. I’d also like to say that I have no idea why the atrocious "Revolution" was picked as the single for the album as it is perhaps the worst culprit of these problems.
While classic Judas Priest were never known for lyrical brilliance, Rob Halford’s lyrics were usually uplifting and helped capture the mood of the music: heavy and fun. Unfortunately, the lyrics in Angel of Retribution are so cringe-worthy and god-awful that you’ll be pining for the days when he was writing about his “Turbo Lover” and being “Eaten Alive”. Almost all songs on the new album are filled with self-referential “wink-wink-nudge-nudge” nonsense in the form of past song and album titles. Many of the songs make no sense because of the incessant name-dropping. I’m almost tempted to start an Angel of Retribution drinking game; whenever Rob says an old song title or album name, take a shot! In all seriousness though, it gets incredibly irritating and distracting, and does nothing more than remind me of their older, better material and wondering what the hell happened. I’d also like to take a moment to address my most reviled song, a track so insipid and terrible that after many spins of the album, I’ve never been able to make it through the song in its entirety. "Lochness" clocks in at over 13 minutes, and proves why Judas Priest never really attempted any long “epics” in the past unlike so many other early metal acts. The lyrics are ridiculous, with Halford crooning about the terrors of the Lochness monster and rhyming every other word and producing perhaps the worst chorus in the past 20 years. The guitar work continues the boring trend of the rest of the album, and to make matters even worse, "Lochness" seemingly never ends. I’m sure even the mighty Spinal Tap couldn’t perform this sad excuse for a song with a straight face.
I’ve tried really hard to like this album, perhaps more so than any other album I’ve disliked on the first listen. I was hoping that buried deep within the dull riffs and absurd lyrics, there’d be another British Steel or Sad Wings Of Destiny waiting to be found and appreciated. While it may sound like I simply wanted a retread of their old material, I was truly looking forward to a new Judas Priest sound and was eager to see how they’d reinvent themselves for the new generation of metal. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I listen to it, Angel of Retribution still seems tired and uninspired, sounding more like a band intent on getting one more under their belt instead of actually wanting to make something new and exciting. If you’re just getting on the Judas Priest bandwagon, I strongly urge you to avoid this album as a starter, because it’s simply not a good representation of why so many people love their music. Angel of Retribution earns a place only in the CD library of Judas Priest completists.
[Tune in to The Almighty Riff every Thursday 8pm - 10pm]
HOLLY GOLIGHTLY + the Woggles @ El Salon
By Paul Brown - The Go-Go Radio Magic Show - 07/18/2005
The great thing about not knowing the opening band is the ability to find a new love. This is exactly what happened last Monday night. The Woggles were a band whose name may be more familiar than their music. In fact, there were many conversations in line with people trying to find out info on the opening act. The only wisdom that could be shared was “uh, they’re from Georgia”.
The Woggles took to the stage with the Professor (lead singer), Dan Elektro (drummer) and the Flesh Hammer (guitar) all sporting fantastic fuscia tuxedo shirts, complete with ruffles. Lady Fingers (bass) complemented them in her ultra-cool go-go dress and boots combo. Clearly, the crowd was in for something special. With a quick intro and a joke, the Professor jumped into the air and the band was off, cranking out their own brand of 60's garage rock/boogaloo, one that has won them fans including Jack White and Little Steven Van Zandt. Think the Sonics' mix of garage rock and screamin’ soul, but hailing from the same fertile waters that gave birth to Little Richard, James Brown and Ray Charles.
Burning through the first song, it seemed like human forms of Jim Henson’s genius muppets were performing for the rather stunned crowd, who weren’t sure what to expect, but definitely up for the ride. During the second song, "Get Tough", the Professor leapt off the stage, taking the show to the floor. Singing and dancing among the audience, he raised their status from “opening act” to “tough act to follow”. Shortly into the set, the bass fell apart, literally. A screw had fallen out and the show was halted, forcing Dan Elektro to point out that this was “a worst-case scenario”. After a fruitless search, Lady Fingers decided it was better to go on with only three strings than no bass at all. Once again, the Professor was back in the audience, pulling out all his best James Brown moves during the R&B-charged "Push". Before long, the band whipped the crowd back into a frenzied, dancing mass.
The Professor had just gotten back on stage when he sent Lady Fingers out to “take her bass for a walk”. The singer and the Flesh Hammer soon joined her, turning the dance floor into a sort of Dr. Tongue’s 3D House of Go-Go. Advancing and retreating through the masses, it was like the most rocking version of theatre that one could hope for. Rock 'n roll sometimes needs a little show biz mixed in and the Woggles combined the two perfectly. In a just world, they would have been household names a long time ago, but somehow have managed to fly under the radar for quite some time. No doubt, for those who didn’t know the Woggles prior to the show, they’re likely to remember them the next time they’re talking about best live performers.
The energy was high by the time Holly Golightly and her band took the stage, but how would they follow such an amazing opening act ? The answer came slowly and acoustically, shifting gears from a high-ball to a cup of tea with lemon. With the room in her hands, Holly announced that they hadn’t done a sound check or prepared a set list for the show, which only became a problem when they were five songs into the show. A recurring theme and sound in all the songs chosen made it feel a bit repetitive. It seemed that their desire to not play the same set every night -- to keep the show fresh for themselves -- came at the expense of the crowd. No doubt about it, Holly Golightly is a very talented songwriter with an incredible voice and an amazing band backing her up. There were even moments when one could compare some of her anti-love and breakup songs to Tom Waits, but there were just too many of them and not enough Waits-isms between the songs. The impression caused by this attempt at improvising would have been a disappointing end to what had started as an excellent night of live music. And then Holly came out for two encores, which turned the whole thing around.
Returning to the stage accompanied by only a single guitar, she did a sassy take on Hattie Hart’s blues classic "I Let My Daddy Do That" and then was joined by the full band for an intense performance of "I Had A Dream". Both these songs proved that Holly Golightly is deserving of all the acclaim she has received. One can only hope that the next time she passes through Montreal, her show will be as focused and charged as her finale.
[Tune in to The Go-Go Radio Magic Show Fridays midnight - 2am]
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