End-of-year-lists clog internet - please send plumber

Oh my gosh, it's the end of the year, and you know what that means! The best-of year-end lists for just about everything are currently making its way across every website, magazine and entertainment news program out there. (Random question: Does Vogue Knitting have a best-of list for, like, best yarn? Most ably producing sheep? Also: There's a Vogue Knitting magazine?!) On the one hand, I love these lists because they expose me to music, films, bits of news items that I missed during the year, and may enlighten the next year to come. It's especially helpful with sorting through the slush pile of albums that come out, distinguishing the ones I should give some more attention to. On the other hand, it limits my own capacity to view artists/albums/films as equals. How does one choose between The National's High  Violet or The Arcade Fire's The Suburbs when they are both such effective and affecting albums? And Sufjan Stevens' The Age of Adz - what if that's left off the list entirely (like it has been in a few places)? If Pitchfork tells me that Kanye West made the best album of this past year, that's going to be marked down in Wikipedia - Wikipedia! - and people will cite My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy as the best alum of 2010 because Wikipedia told them that Pitchfork said it was the best, and how can they be wrong? Of course, there's always lots of debate in the comments section of these posts, and that's healthy. It's part of the larger music community dialogue, and as no two music-lovers will ever have exactly the same end-of-year list, I really shouldn't worry. 

So I'll give a list and add to the slush - why not? My opinion will matter a lot less than Pitchfork or Stereogum's (at least to any average music site scourer. Also, I just realized that both those sites named Kanye as their number one of the year...), but in the end I would like to retain my ability to think for myself and continue to love the things I love.

10. Holy Fuck - Latin

My love for Holy Fuck is well documented. Although Latin isn't really a game changer, it did display a positive growth in the group's ability to funnel their live charisma into recorded material. This group is producing some of the most original dance electronic noise rock around and they aren't getting the recognition they deserve. I can only see them continuing their upward trajectory for their next full-length - let's just hope that we don't have to wait too long.

9. Owen Pallett - Heartland

It took me a while to get to Heartland, despite Owen Pallett's current position as reigning prince of Toronto's indie scene. With Heartland, Pallett (who recently abandoned his previous moniker, Final Fantasy, for obvious reasons) has crafted an album documenting the existential thoughts and woes of an "ultraviolent farmer" named Lewis. It's a concept record - not an ugly word, just difficult to pull off well - that follows Lewis' frustrations with God (conveniently-named Owen). It's like a warped pastoral, where things like nature and faith turn against Lewis and instead of calming, they drive him mad. Pallett is a classically trained violinist, and although his knack for dramatic orchestration is present, it's his experimental use of drum machine, subversive lyrics, and often off-putting mix of instruments that really highlight what's fascinating about his work. Naked drama mixes with opulence, and we come out the better for it.

8. Yeasayer - Odd Blood

Odd Blood is a psychedelic mish-mash of synth, odd vocoder-processed vocals, dark and at times ominous lyrics, and rhythms coming from all different directions and styles. With Odd Blood, Brooklyn-based Yeasayer manage to make their experimental rock without going too far and alienating potential listeners. The difficult tracks on Odd Blood - album opener "The Children" is a bit discouraging as a lead in to an otherwise melodically rich album - often blossom upon repeat listening after you get over the initial strangeness of what you're hearing. Each track is built, deconstructed, and swayed in surprising directions, all guided by singer Chris Keating's propulsive vocals. The Middle-Eastern influence is clear, but rather than adding a sense of novelty to their sound, it feels natural, almost lived-in right next to the rhythmic quirks that distinguish Yeasayer's sound. Odd Blood may be a more pop flavoured record than their 2007 debut, All Hour Cymbals, but this newfound sound creates a door into the warehouse that stores Yeasayer's - and the rest of the indie music world's - catalog of strange and beautiful sounds.

7. The Books - The Way Out

Found-sound collage noise electronic band with classical sensibilities - this is how I've been trying to describe The Books to anyone foolish enough to ask me about them. It shouldn't come as a surprise that The Books are hard to classify, and although this obscurity may be a barrier for some people, the payoff for more adventurous ears is constant. In The Way Out, the sampling is used to both clever ("The Story Of Hip-Hop") and poignant ("Free Translator") effect. It's rare that an album can have so many striking, honest portrayals like The Way Out does with "A Cold Freezin' Night" and "Thirty Incoming". This album is incredibly affecting; anyone willing to open themselves up to it won't regret the choice.

6. Jonsi - Go

Go is an amazing record based on it's wonderful orchestration alone (fluttering flutes and swirling violins sit with a cacophony of rhythm section all under Jon Por Birgisson's ethereal falsetto), but it's been bolstered by the best live tour this year. For the most part, the album is exuberant and unabashedly joyful ("Go Do" and "Lilikoi Boy"), but there's also moodier shades of Birgisson's other project, Sigur Ros, in tracks like the beautiful "Tornado."

5. The Black Keys - Brothers

The Black Keys have single-handedly brought down and dirty blues rock back into fashion. They first came to my attention with 2008's excellent Attack & Release, then in 2009 they released Blakroc - a potentially disastrous collaborative album that paired The Black Keys' rock with a slew of different hip-hop artists (it was actually pretty good, and will reportedly be seeing a follow-up sometime in the new year). These guys do not rest on their considerable talent for crafting break-up ballads; they experiment and expand their sound, getting better and better with each record. Brothers is immediately accessible; opener "Everlasting Light" sets the tone for a classic blues rock album with a modern aesthetic twist. Despite the professional production polish behind Brothers, it still sounds as natural as any garage band practice, allowing singer and guitarist Dan Auerbach to let loose his genre-perfect wail while singing about crazy ex's ("Next Girl") and warn of the perils of a woman scorned ("Ten Cent Pistol"). Catchy hooks without lowest common denominator pandering, gnarled vocals to match crunchy guitar and drums, that abrupt shift in tempo and tone in "Tighten Up", that weirdly wonderful cover of Jerry Butler's "Never Gonna Give You Up" - all things that make up one of the best albums this year.

4. Caribou - Swim

From album opener "Odessa" straight through to closer "Jamelia", Caribou's Swim is a tremendous achievement in layering. Dance floor-ready electronic beats accumulate and fold in upon synth-orchestrated motifs, all while allowing for plenty of precious breathing room. The lyrical content is, like most of Caribou's catalogue, somewhat desolate (both in that there isn't a whole lot there, but also in the dark, emotionally charged places he goes). It's the musical ideas, however, that make Swim an outstanding record. Chord progressions appear, repeat, transform, and eventually explode outwards as a collection of well-timed beats-vs-synth-vs-horns (or woodwinds, or strings, or whatever). Caribou makes use of the distinct textures of different instruments like a painter utilizes her colour palette, elevating the borrowed '80s dance beats to a state with which both sound aficionados and straight-up dance enthusiasts can satisfy their addictions.

3. The National - High Violet

This and the following two albums are almost interchangeable as my number one album of the year. Listening to High Violet, you really wonder what sort of sinister pact The National have entered into in order to create music with such fantastic beauty. Singer Matt Berninger crafts affecting lyrical poems that tap into familiar feelings (depression in "Sorrow", abandonment in "Anyone's Ghost", or simply the things that go unsaid in a relationship in "Conversation 16"), only they're expressed in ways you'd never imagined before. I don't think there's any other singer out there that could deliver a line like "I was afraid I'd eat your brains" and make it simultaneously hilarious and touching. The lyrical content alone would be enough to make The National one of my favourite bands, but there are many musicians whose prowess with the pen doesn't always extend to their musicality. The National have come a long way to craft sonic landscapes to match their sprawling gin-soaked lyrics. It's the repeated humming, distorted two guitar chord opener for "Terrible Love", the regal horns on "England", and the drum lines throughout the entire album that show a sophistication that's far removed from their early bar-band days. As long as The National keep making music that, despite their stadium rock readiness, are intimate thoughts/conversations/feelings captured on mp3s, their albums will continue to appear on every year-end list they can grab.

2. The Arcade Fire - The Suburbs

Another high concept album, another stellar payoff. Shortly after its release, a friend described The Suburbs to me as "Funeral light." Every band that ever made a huge, sound-defining record, like Funeral was for the Arcade Fire, knows and has to live with the daunting task of distinguishing their follow-up records for every fan that will automatically say it's not as good as their other album. Thanks for the criticism, but now lets discuss the album in question based on it's own individual merits; when you do that (release yourself from the onus of having to compare every album with the one that came before it!) you will see that The Suburbs is an affecting look into consumerist-heavy, soul-deprived western culture. The Régine Chassagne-led "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" is one of the best tracks of the year; it's a constant on my iPod and its synth-pop brilliance will probably see that it remains so for a while to come. The rockier tracks ("Modern Man," "The Suburbs") are reminiscent of only the best Bruce Springsteen works, while the moodier pieces manage to wring new pathos out of the 'oft traversed territory of existential suburbanites.

1. Sufjan Stevens - The Age Of Adz

Last year's number one album for me was Grizzly Bear's Veckatimest. It was creative, psychedelic in parts, but overall melodic and accessible. This year's number one has the first two traits in common, but eschews the second two, making it a difficult work to get into. Certainly, the 25 minute album closer "Impossible Soul" (a song cycle with mood swings, a lengthy disco dance sequence, and some much-maligned auto-tune) is a tough sell to short attention spans; but like all good things in life, it's not supposed to come easy. Sufjan Stevens is not one to hold himself back too often, and good for him (for us!), because that's hard to do when every fan and critic around you is asking for more of the same. As neat as a record for every state in the US sounds, if you actually think about that sort of output - who would want that? It seems insulting that people would actually want an artist of Stevens' calibre to relegate himself to churning out a novelty album every year until he was well into his 80's. Although Illinois was an accomplishment in sublime song-craft, The Age Of Ads covers material that's much more immediately personal to Stevens, and the weird, stuttering electronic stuff mixed with the choir, string, and brass elements is thrilling to hear. I love how Stevens takes a line of music or lyric, plays it over and over (each time with subtle variations) until it has lost almost all meaning, then switches to something completely different. It's like when you repeat the word "tomato" 20, 30, 40 times until you can't remember what it means - it could mean almost anything! This is a recurring theme in The Age of Adz - even the title doesn't mean what you think it should. It can be read like an essay, with opener "Futile Devices" outlining the main argument in its closing line ("Words are futile devices."), then, for the rest of the album, Stevens' usual reliance on literary narrative is abandoned in order to outline the importance of more immediate, less artful words and sounds. With themes running from grand apocalyptic sighs, to the relatively small yet equally devastating death of a relationship, The Age Of Adz is as ambitious as it is long, as thoughtful as it is schizophrenic, and the best thing I've heard all year.

--
I realize that there's nothing terribly off-the-beaten-path here. I'm not trying to impress anyone with how obscure I can get. I just hope you think that my reasons for liking what I have hold up. What were some of your favourites?

Jens Lekman went to Brooklyn. I may have stalked him a little bit.

Jens Lekman live at The Green Building. All photos by Colleen Hale-Hodgson.

But only a little. To be clear, the desire to visit New York City was already there, I just needed a really good reason, and then I got this innocuous little e-mail:

Hi everyone,

I had some stuff to do in New York this winter so I figured I might as well do a small solo show while I'm theresince it's been so long.
It will be special and maybe we can have one of those houseparties afterwards, like we had last time?
If my friends neighbors are cool with that, I'll let you know.

Lekman plays the underused air xylophone while
holding the tambourine that touched my heart. 

I don't even remember signing up for Jens Lekman's mailing list, but I'm pretty glad past-Colleen did, because this sounded like a really cool show. I didn't act right away, so when I finally did look to see if I could buy a ticket I really shouldn't have been so surprised that the concert on Dec. 10 was completely sold out, and that scalpers were asking for upwards of $70 (original price: $17) for tickets on craigslist.com. I had just finished promising myself that I would be more spontaneous next time when yet another e-mail from Lekman' camp popped up with a promise of another show on Dec. 9. Message received, Universe.

Building an entire vacation around seeing one Swedish orchestral pop prince in Brooklyn on a cold winter night may sound crazy to some people, but with a year-long exile in South Korea looming, I saw an opportunity to appease my inner hipster's need for amazing concert experiences, and see if NYC was as great as I remember it being all at the same time.

Lekman's music is in turns irreverent and sarcastic, honest and disarming. He sings with a silky baritone, recalling romantic crooners of eras past. Most of his recorded material is lushly produced with brass, choral backing, and swooning crescendos of strings and samples. Lekman's show at The Green Building was a stripped down affair, with Lekman playing an acoustic guitar and some sparse drum accompaniment. He still managed to captivate the relatively small 400-person audience through a mix of natural charisma and humorous prattle. Earlier that week during a show in LA he premiered a new song he wrote about the night he tried to meet Spiderman actress Kirsten Dunst in his hometown of Gothenburg. He played that again, and it's about as funny as you would think something about stalking Kirsten Dunst would be.



There were other new songs, which fuels my hope for a new album sometime in the new year. Old favourites were also brought out ("Black Cab" and "Kanske är jag kär i dig" were particular highlights for me). About two-thirds of the way through the show some backing samples were added in and the night got more danceable. Lekman broke out the tambourine, which he soon handed off to one very lucky audience member (ok, it was me. I almost died from giddiness.). With the weight of keeping beat for the rest of the show resting on my shoulders, I can't really say I remember it very well. There was some dancing, choreographed airplane arms, and two encores (which I think my tambourine-led chorus of hand-claps had a lot to do with), and then it was over - but not before Lekman promised that after the show he would sing into the ear of anyone who had a special request. With that tantalizing thought in mind, I stuck around for a bit for the crowd to clear, and was not disappointed when Lekman came out and started chatting with the stragglers.

I won't bore you with a detailed recounting of the whole encounter, but I will say that I did get a song (the last verse of "A Postcard To Nina") and a very apt message with his signature. Ten points to whoever can tell me what song this comes from:

So, was it worth travelling to NYC all by myself with no local contacts or knowledge of how to work the subway system? Yes. Of course, the Lekman show was not the only thing I did that weekend, but I think it was special enough to make the trip worthwhile even if the rest of the trip was filled with long lines at Macy's and rude cab drivers (I didn't do any shopping and one car service driver said I was pretty enough to be a model!).

For a more detailed review of the show,  plus a bunch of pictures (you may even spy yours truly if you squint a bit), head over to BrooklynVegan.com.

On Rockism, or why electronic music shouldn't kill your buzz

Sufjan Stevens: singer/songwriter, folk music god, sometimes synth agitator. Photo by Marzuki Stevens.

A few things have got me thinking about this electronic music "trend" (I didn't realize it was a trend, but other websites tell me it is, so there I go) that's been sweeping the blogging music press for the past year or so (even though it's been around since at least the '80s). Like all waves in music, people either love and embrace it, or loathe it and crucify every artist who dares to include a Prophet '08 synthesizer in their recording studio.

Take this review on noripcord.com of Sufjan Stevens' The Age of Adz for example: The reviewer, Alan Shulman, says that he has "(n)othing against electronic music, though I confess I mostly hate it," which is the first clue that he isn't the right guy to be reviewing this particular Stevens album. Prior to that comment, Shulman says that Stevens has "taken an unfortunate page from the Animal Collective playbook and subjected his minimalist material to maximalist arrangements." To be fair, That's exactly what Stevens did with the much lauded 2005 album, Illinois, only with piled on woodwinds, brass, banjo, violin, and any other decidedly analog instrument he could get his hands on.

Rockism is the belief that some music and musicians are more authentic than others. Although I hadn't heard this term until recently, it applies to a lot of music criticism, and to the strongly held beliefs from obsessive music collectors the world over. It seems like a lot of musical pundits have placed any musician that utilizes electronic quirks under the umbrella of "not authentic." Nowhere has this reaction been more vehement than with established artists (like Stevens) taking their casio's out for a spin. On the one hand, yes these artists may just be latching on to a popular trend that isn't always what's best for their sound (although it's an imperfect example, Kanye West's ill-conceived foray into the precarious world of auto-tune on 808s & Heartbreak could be perceived as an artist overextending his reach), but on the other hand there are artists whose musicality extends beyond the guitar, the piano, the limited range of a human voice. The exploration of one's personal sonic universe is opened up by new technology - always has, always will. Like with any instrument, it's all in how you use it.

Animal Collective. Courtesy animalcollective.org.

I admit that when I first heard Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion I didn't get it either. It sounded like a lot of melody-shy noise layered into an unintelligible heap, resulting in little emotional appeal. I must have had my old lady ears on because I can't even remember why those were my initial thoughts. I resisted for a long time (months, even), but I was either too lazy or too stubborn to take the album off my iPod. At first it was the catchy hook nested in the repeated "For my girls" on "My Girls," then the haunting and earnest questions raised in "Also Frightened," and then the whole album just opened up for me. Suddenly, the gradual ebb and flow created by the bizarre, overlapping squeaks/bleeps/sirens and other synthetic sounds appeared as just another expertly told story using a new type of orchestra. Far from being emotionally adrift, this album had discovered a new way to explore youthful pathos while using a medium that young, digital device-savvy people understand almost too well.

I have become entranced with the possibilities that electronic music holds. In contrast to Shulman's assertion that all these bleeps and bloops obscure the heart that's at the core of music like Stevens', I believe that these noises are getting at a deeper, more primal human emotional state than was previously unexplored in his earlier work. For The Age of Adz, it's a letting go of formality, allowing movement and immediacy to guide both the artist and the audience through one of the most over-explored areas of the human condition (that would be love, and the loss of it) - and doing so in an imaginative and thoughtful way.

I'm done with the snark. We all have our opinions, but writing off albums or entire bands because they don't conform to your preferred method of musical creation isn't productive. But this is music, so artists will rise and then fall into obscurity, sounds are constantly diverging from one-another, and popular taste is always evolving. By the time this post goes live it will already be irrelevant and no one will care about electronic music (maybe they're more worried about rape gaze?). Being an active participant in the love of music is both beautiful and exhausting - and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Buke and Gass @ Sneaky Dee's, December 4, 2010

Buke and Gass (Arone Dyer and Aron Sanchez). Photos by Colleen Hale-Hodgson

If you're a fan of the popular WNYC radio show Radiolab you may have heard of the peculiarly named Brooklyn-based duo Buke and Gass. The group was featured in the April 20, 2010 edition of the show entitled "The Loudest Miniature Fuzz," where they talked about the bizarre but wonderful music they make with their homemade instruments - a modified baritone ukulele and a guitar-bass hybrid. They brought their wacky setup to Toronto's Sneaky Dee's last night, where, sadly, only a small crowd of people were there to witness the eccentric sounds come to life.

Local one-man outfit Doldrums opened the night with a noise-heavy electronic mosaic of vocal-layering and synth psychedelia (sometimes I like to call live performances like this one "push-the-button rock"). With some clever sampling and creative, chopped-up drum-machine riffs, Doldrums makes for some immerse listening, and would be something good to see live after some fine-tuning (the beats were out of sync with the electronic swirls several times, and the sound was way too loud for the small crowd and small venue). That said, the voice layering was fun and well done, and I'm digging the recorded material on MySpace (or is it My_____?), so check that out if you can.
Second openers Talk Normal (comprised of drummer/vocalist Andrya Ambro and guitarist/vocalist Sarah Register) followed up with a reverb-fuelled set featuring rollicking rhythms (which I especially enjoyed) and guitar drones under stark lyrics. The experimental spirit of the performance made it notable, but I feel that a more in-depth exploration of their natural dynamics (the space between loud and quiet, drone and melody) would elevate the music past other similarly grungy rock outfits.

Buke and Gass's setup is the epitome of DIY-spirit; Arone Dyer (the Buke) sits with a sound pedal beneath one foot, a ring of bells tied around her ankle, and metal jingles fashioned to her other shoe. Aron Sanchez (the Gass) keeps the beat with a kick drum, which is filled with two tambourines that chime with every beat. All of their instruments (including the amps) are homemade.

Aside from the marvel of seeing these musicians multiply their two person sound into that of a full, five-piece band, Buke and Gass are a delight to watch. Dyer is has an affable and magnetic personality. She'll laugh at her own jokes, tease her band mate, and encouraged everyone to dance like no one is watching. The acoustics in Sneaky Dee's is not the best, so her voice was often drowned out by the clamour of their instruments, but from what I did hear her voice is high and sweet and full of character.

Dyer displayed some mad uke skills.

Buke and Gass make twangy, genre-bending music; they are at times folky, often rock and punk influenced, with a touch of pop to round everything out. Their sound is unique, much like the instruments they play, but they use familiar song structure and well-honed musicianship to build catchy songs that draw the listener in, then let them linger on the complexity within each strummed string.

These days, "experimental" is often synonymous with "electronic," but Buke and Gass manage to explore without dipping into synthesizers or sound boards. While the homemade instruments may come off at first as a novelty - something notable only because it's different - they add a fundamental shift in the texture of the music, allowing for sophisticated arrangement while keeping the feel organic. See this band live, give the album a listen - I dare you to tell me otherwise.

**

NPR Music has a "Tiny Desk Concert" with Buke and Gass that's worth a look. Also, if you're so inclined, you can purchase either their debut album Riposte (which just made it on to NPR Music's top 50 favourite albums of 2010 year-end list), or you can pick up their EP, +/-, which, true to B & G spirit, is presented in lovely homemade packaging.

Suuns - The Silver Dollar Room - November 26, 2010

Suuns, basking in the red-hued glow of internet buzz. Photo by Colleen Hale-Hodgson.

It happened like this: Suuns played New York City's CMJ festival in October and managed to get a shout out on one of my favourite music programs, All Songs Considered. I dig this sound. I should remember to check this band out later. Then, a week or so later I spy a tweet from Daytrotter advertising their recent session with Suuns. Oh yes! I forgot to remember to check out this band! Here another opportunity. After being suitably impressed (again) by the sounds from their Daytrotter session I decide I must remember to see this group live sometime. Cut to Google Reader and Chromeowaves' RSS feed. There's a small footnote on a review of Gregory & The Hawk’s Leche that Suuns will be playing the Silver Dollar Room the upcoming Friday.. It's settled. The nail in the coffin comes later during a random visit to CBC Radio 3's website, where its online player opens to - what else - Sunns' "Arena". What is this (other than a verbose way to say that I saw Suuns this past Friday)? It's a look at how music aficionados discover new bands to pay attention to, and how buzz bands are born.

Show openers Tezeta and Little Girls are local and, at least in the case of Little Girls, have a strong following in many Toronto music circles. Little Girls went on second and were solid, but didn't really wow me like I would have liked. Tezeta, which came on first, was an interesting enough set to write a little more on.

Tezeta had problems from the start. Sole member Joseph Viktor Arthur Roth needs a serious injection of confidence juice, and I hope he gets it soon because from what little he did play was not as bad as he said it was. He started his set by mumbling something about how it wouldn't be very good, then played a nice, spacey sample riff piece called "Ties," with his swooning baritone voice that reminded me a bit of Beirut's Zach Condon. He then called upon a few members of Little Girls to play alongside, which was where things started to fall apart. After two songs he abruptly kicked the other players off the stage and said he wouldn't play any more. After several catcalls and shouts of bemused encouragement from the audience, he relented and started to play one last song, which he promptly abandoned again. Like I said, it's too bad because Roth has a nice voice, but probably isn't ready to share his music live.  

When Suuns took to the small Silver Dollar stage, however, there was no question of whether or not these guys had the confidence to hold the crowd. Suuns make dark electro-infused post-punk music. It's moody and precise, and the more time you spend with it, the more it grows on you. This trend of indie bands adding synth to the normal guitar/bass/drum setup is both good and bad; on the one hand you've got explorations in texture, and the combination of traditional melody constructs with drone or glitched-out beats allows for more complex emotional revelations. On the other hand you've got synth-as-filler bands (where you have the only girl in the band behind a tiny keyboard pushing keys but not really making any noise), or "bands" who show up at venues with a laptop and skinny jeans and not much else. As the night went on, Suuns exemplified the correct way to integrate synth, sound pedals, and other elecronic devices into an otherwise traditional mould - making it an integral part of their overall sound rather than a fun sidenote.

Ben Shemie's restrained vocals added tension to an already anxiety-ridden sound. Each song felt ready to burst into a rollicking rock jam, but rarely - if ever - unleashed the pent up rock trying to get out. That tension added to the moody atmosphere, but also contributed to the show eventually delvolving (evolving?) into a moshpit/dance party, which should say something about the Suuns' strength in rhythm (and will hopefully lead to Suuns dance remixes in the future). 

They didn't over-reach on the record, which would have meant creating music that they couldn't replicate live, and that may be what saved them from one of the most common pitfalls modern indie bands often fall prey to. So many bands simply do not have either the manpower or the musical dexterity to re-produce their ambitious recordings in a live setting. Based on this interview with NOW, this was intentional move on Suuns' part, in order to keep the live show strong. This was a good decision, and will allow for a more expanded sound on later records, when they can afford to bring in other musicians to play with what is already a very exciting material. 

Spring/Summer/Fall Concert experience 2010 - Part 2

Here lies the second part of my outrageously belated multi-part Spring/Summer/Fall concert round-up. I'm doing something different this round and adding youtube videos for each artist so that you can get a visual and audio companion to the review. Let me know what you think:

THE ONES THAT AREN'T QUITE THE BEST BUT ONLY BECAUSE I NEEDED TO ARBITRARILY CUT OFF THAT LIST AT SOME POINT:

DIRTY PROJECTORS September 15 @ The Opera House

Dirty Projectors. The lighting was pretty dim so it was difficult to get a good shot of the whole group. All photos by Colleen Hale-Hodgson.

It was an uneven but ultimately magical performance from my favourite harmony-infused, melodically fascinating band. I was eager to see how Dave Longstreth would pull-off the complex guitar-work prevalent on the album I'm most familiar with, Bitte Orca (2009). The answer: not perfectly, but about as close as anyone could hope to get. I don't just throw the word "complex" out there willy-nilly - the Dirty Projectors are known for their experimental instrumental and vocal arrangements. The female three-part harmonies on Bitte Orca are fascinating (I especially love the somewhat dissonant, ringing tones produced when the girls only sing a semi-tone apart), and they translated well to a live setting - although, possibly because I've become so attached to the vocals on the album, I couldn't stop from cringing whenever they missed (or purposefully altered) notes or held on for a beat too long. In a review of Bitte Orca, The Quietus described Longstreth's voice as "Marmite-like" - ya, I had to look it up too - meaning that you either love his voice or hate it; I fall on the side of love, but I really enjoy strange and often off-putting vocals. I don't think that Longstreth's vocals are off-putting at all, they just sound like a lot of work. 

The night's surprise guest was none other than elite Toronto experimental violin virtuoso Owen Pallett. He was accompanying Angel Deradoorian on the sparse yet beautiful "Two Doves" (a personal favourite). It was the icing on a show that was already filled with outstanding energy and dynamics. 

Dirty Projectors, "Stillness Is The Move" from Bitte Orca


CARIBOU September 17 @ The Phoenix Concert Theatre

Caribou. You can just spy some of the brass/wind band in the background.

One of my favourite trends in music these days is the mixture of traditional "analog" instruments with intense, meticulous electronic arrangements. This is possibly why I love Holy Fuck so much (more on that later), but Caribou takes it to a whole other level. His set up at the Phoenix included a live brass and wind section (clarinet, saxophone, flute, and trombone), along with a guitarist, bassist, seriously skilled drummer, and Caribou (Daniel Snaith) himself working the synths, keyboard, and other digital toys.
 
There were moments where it felt like the I had stumbled upon a space-out jam session; Snaith would present extended cuts from this year's record, Swim, along with his Polaris Prize-winning Andorra (2007), letting each musical phrase splay out into every sonic corner he could find. Snaith has a sort of rhythmic precision that permeates throughout every layer of live instruments/electronic instruments/voice, all the way down to the traditional rhythmic elements. Everything feels so well placed on the album that I thought messing with the structure live might detract from their overall story arch (and, for a few tracks at least, I was right), but Snaith's handling of "Bowls" off of Swim exemplifies how his live tinkering can really open a piece up, and engulf an audience in the process.  

Caribou, "Sun" from Swim


NICE PERSONALITIES:

BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB April 1 @ The Phoenix Concert Theatre

Kind of disappointing. To be honest I really haven't been keeping up with this band in the past few years, and I know them best for their 2005 breakout Howl, which they only played a couple of songs from. Howl is a grinding rock and roll opus, with wailing harmonicas and old-school laid-back vocals. Think The Black Keys before there was The Black Keys. So, being a few years behind on the bandwagon didn't help me enjoy the show much, but it should be said that despite my general disinterest in their new material, they are a solid live band. The guitar and bass prowess that made them so attractive in '05 is still there, but (from what I remember of the concert) there wasn't much innovation in their sound since then.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, "Beat The Devil's Tattoo" from Beat The Devil's Tattoo

MY BRIGHTEST DIAMOND May 4 @ El Mocambo

This was an early one, but certainly set the stage for a string of surprisingly good small concerts I saw this year. My Brightest Diamond is essentially just Shara Warden belting out her unique brand of moody folk rock. There have been rotating members in the past, and she has performed with a band before - Worden kept mentioning that her drummer was out for a smoke (must have been some long smoke because he never showed up) - but this was a very intimate show with a small crowd. This was particularly baffling for me because when I had seen Worden last year with The Decemberists she completely owned the stage whenever her solos came around. Her voice is simply incredible. Powerful, keen, and full of natural character, Worden's voice is easily one of the best in indie rock music today (maybe even history - just check out her cover of the 'oft covered "Feelin' Good"), so I was surprised to see that this performance wasn't a bigger deal. For this performance Worden played the electric guitar over a drum machine, and used some creative digital effects to loop her vocals on one of the eerier songs.

With an act that became something of a trend for some of my concert experiences this year, I hadn't actually heard any of My Brightest Diamond's music before buying my ticket. Everything (besides the "Feeling Good" cover, which closed the night) was new to me, which may not be the best way to get into MBD. As I said, Worden's voice alone was worth the price of admission, but the songs themselves require more patience. My current favourite blogger, contemporary composer and sass aficionado Nico Muhly, compared the uniqueness of Worden's pipes to that of Bjork's (a real compliment), so that should give you an idea of how "acquired taste" MBD may be for some.

(I should note that at the time of the show, Worden was very pregnant - she had little Constantine Jamesson Worden in July. That's apropo to nothing, really. I just remember thinking how rough it must be to shlup around the country with a baby weighing down your belly. Kudos to Shara Wordon for being a cool mom, though).

My Brightest Diamond, "Inside A Boy" from A Thousand Shark's Teeth

THE WEAKERTHANS May 26 @ Queen Elizabeth Theatre

The Weakerthans. I love how in my best shot none of them are actually looking at the audience.

A last minute concert decision that turned out to be a pretty fun night. The Weakerthans are something of a Canadian indie rock staple. They have a well-deserved reputation for crowd pleasing, and I would definitely recommend catching them live for a solid good time. I don't know their catalogue so well, but the songs I do know - "A Plea From a Cat Named Virtue" and "I Hate Winnipeg" are two of my favourite Canadian songs ever written - were all played - to my great delight.

The Weakerthans, "Our Retired Explorer (Dines with Michel Foucault in Paris, 1961)" from Reconstruction Site

Spring/Summer/Fall Concert experience 2010

*Note: in the interest of condensing this post and of getting this out faster, I'll be uploading a couple of reviews at a time, and subdividing the shows into three arbitrary categories I've thought up. So... expect another one or two of these posts later this week.

National Public Radio's All Song's Considered "Live In Concert" series recently produced a simulcast of Jonsi's awe-inspiring live concert in the Wiltern Theatre in Los Angeles (they promise to have clips of the show up soon - however, it's not the best representation of the live show, so I would take it or leave it). If you've read my review of the show and album you'd know how highly I recommend checking this out. Even eight months later I can still hear the other-worldy falsetto that opens "Grow 'Till Tall" and subsequently closes a show that will forever stick out in my mind as one of the finest live shows I've ever seen. This is saying a lot because this summer has been packed with surprising, memorable, and stay-with-me-for-life shows - Jonsi's was only the beginning.

I haven't been able to write about all of my favourite concert experiences this year (The National's Massey Hall show in June sticks out in my mind as one I really should have written about), but I'm hoping to correct some of those oversights in this post, rounding up some of the concerts I've seen this summer/fall, starting with the ones that made the most impact.

THE BEST:

JONSI April 30 @ The Sound Academy

Jonsi's merits I've already documented, but it's important to note how lasting an impression he's made. This concert, despite being in April, feels like it kicked off my entire year. I'd never really understood the merits of a good concert until this time, and it was this grandiose, magical collaboration of visual art and sound that introduced me to the true power of a live musical experience.

It's an awkward negotiation, seeing a musician live. Performances can seem very artificial, with groups of people standing and staring at another group of people on a stage creating noise. The people on stage want you to get involved, but not so involved that you jump up and try to actually engage in the noisemaking yourself (unless it's sort of like an avant-garde thing, which would be cool and off-putting in a completely different way). In a sense, it's much easier to plug in and imagine a visual accompaniment to the sounds coming from your computer/mp3 player/walkmen/etc. than it is to sit through a live performance, which will either elevate you or leave you deflated. Thankfully Jonsi's Go tour was of the latter disposition, and is even more impressive live than it is on the album.


THE NATIONAL June 8 @ Massey Hall (the first of a two night stint)

It's difficult to describe the many divergent reasons that this performance was truly transcendent for me. A lot of it has to do with personal connections (to the music, the significance of this being the first show I'd ever seen as the venerable Massey Hall, and my late night adventure camping out behind said venerable establishment for autographs), but that would be short-changing the performance itself.

Matt Berninger is one of the most charismatic front man in indie rock today (don't let anyone tell you otherwise). Maybe it's the copious drinks he consumes on stage (a trademark, of sorts), maybe it's his delicious baritone voice that echoed around the room and commanded attention from every ear, or maybe it's the way he literally forced several audience members to their feet (causing a rush to the front, providing me and a friend with much better seats than we paid for). Oh, and there's also the two times he jumped off the stage and ran into the crowd, climbing over seats and people, screaming "My mind's not right!" like a madman who just freebased cocaine off a hookers g-string. It's that gin-soaked fun that breathes life into music and lyrics that often fall heavily into the category of morose and intellectually weighty.

Photo by Frances Olimpo

The use of horns and the occasional violin really opened up the group's sound, faithfully recreating the lush arrangements on High Violet. Stage banter between Berninger and twins Aaron and Bryce Dessner revealed many funny/interesting tidbits of information (for example: one of the Dessner's was talking about how their mother had, until recently, advised that the band get a "nice girl" to perform lead singing duties). The band went on to play two encores, which should give you an idea of how much they enjoyed the show as well.

And now for something of a rant: For those who like to label The National as "mopey indie rock," you're both kind of right and yet still missing the point entirely. To each their own, but if you haven't given The National a chance you are really missing out. "I was afraid I'd eat your brains" is not a phrase you will hear coming from many mopey indie rock bands these days, so I truly cherish the fact that there is a band out there that can not only throw out curve ball lyrics like that one, but do it with such conviction and musical finesse that I don't even care about how ridiculous it sounds.

(NB: Below is the scan of my signed High Violet CD case BY THE WHOLE BAND! I owe drummer Bryan Devendorf an edible bouquet).

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Ok, more to come. Stay tuned.

Podcast: the sawing your foot off, pickaxe to the knee edition

First, let me say this: life has been busy lately, and I have so many things to tell you, blog. However, that will have to wait untill after I pimp my and Zalina's latest Love This Movie, Hate This Film podcast. It's the Halloween edition of LTMHTF, and things get pretty heated when The 2005 spelunking horror flick The Descent and the 2004 franchise-starting behemoth Saw go head to head in a fight that pits good stagecraft with bloody-bloody-gore-gore-fun-times.

Even more exciting news, LTMHTF is now searchable on iTunes! Looks like we've made it, friends.

New podcast is bourne to entertain

Podcast #5 is up and waiting for you to enjoy. Zalina and I have given Love This Movie, Hate This Film it's own website, and we've even attached it to an RSS feed, which you can sync to your iTunes (or whatever you use for podcast stuffs).

If the pun in headline didn't tip you off, this edition is all about the Bourne trilogy. There's some disagreements over the definition of "ultimatum" (not exactly in dispute, but still, isn't that a stupid name for an action/thriller?), there's even some informative play-by-play commentary over one of the films' hot man-on-man fight scenes. 

Soon we'll have LTMHTF searchable on iTunes. And then - watch out! We'll have hit the big time. Until then, click on over and check it out.