[Live] Sled Island: Consonant C, Mother Mother, Chad Vangaalen

How to describe it the atmosphere inside Central United Church, a sandstone building right on the C-train line, where the Consonant C are in the middle of their opening set. The church is smaller, but beautiful, in no way diminished by the sketchier area that the surrounding buildings have become. There is thrumming, a sense of anticipation; coupled with the sound coming from the church itself, it's almost tangible.

We slip into a pew; late, but glad to have made it to the sounds of beautiful harmonies and an intriguing assembly of instruments. The Consonant C only play four more songs before dashing off, but their set is endearing and bright-eyed in the best sense of the words. Their music also makes it clear as to why the venue was chosen: the acoustics are wonderful. We could probably have heard the bands without any amplification at all.

Next is another local band Racoon; containing Dillon Whitfield, of Jane Vain fame (at least locally, anyway ^^;), they are definitely noisier and more rock-oriented than the Consonant C; after a solid set, they call on several friends from the wings (a few of which the savvy Calgarian music fan might recognize from several other excellent local bands) to do an endlessly enjoyable finale that leaves the audience in a state of excitement even after the last hand-claps and percussive beats have faded.

After some delay, the stage is then graced by the wonderful Mother Mother; the band jumps right into things, working up enthusiasm and energy with songs "Dirty Town" and "Touch Up" from their debut album of the same name. Something of a surprise is the number of new songs played; when coupled with their announcement of the forthcoming sophomore album O My Heart, however, the move makes sense. Overall, while some fans might be disappointed at not getting to hear specific favourites played live, the set is energetic, at times funny ("We've never played in a church before," guitarist Ryan Guldemond states matter-of-factly, "we thought it would be more...spiritual somehow. Not that that wasn't criticism...*after the audience chuckle at the sharp comment* Sorry, it was meant positively. Oh well...we're going to hell."), and incredibly enjoyable on the whole.

It was at this point that we faced a terrible decision: Okkervil River were to follow Mother Mother. Yes, the excellent Okkervil River, playing in a small and intimate venue like Central United Church. However, at the same time, Chad Vangaalen, local artist-musician superhero and champion of the home-made drum machine, was slated to play a set at the Telus World of Science, in the big domed theatre on the top floor. For those unfamiliar with the structure of this building, let me describe it as such: the enormous dome is a screen, and Chad would be projecting his animations during his performance.

In the end, two of us opted to see Chad and catch Okkervil at Lollapalooza, while the rest stayed on to watch them. So we hopped on the C-train and made it to the Science Centre in time to catch the tail end of Portico's set, while getting decent seats for Chad's performance.

And what a performance it was. As always, Chad is incredibly funny and charming to watch, infusing his performance with an air of unstudied humanism that is lost to many more staid artists. His offbeat personality is just as much a part of the show as his excellent songs; the instruments and setup are incredibly homemade and precarious, containing a perticular delight that I can only compare with looking at the impossible physics and angles of structures in a Tim Burton film. Chad taks odds and ends- a sound sample taken from under train tracks at a downtown bridge, a strangely uneven beat on his home-constructed, prototype drum machine ("I haven't had time to work on it, so the prototype has sort of become...well, it is what it is, I guess," he apologizes in his easygoing way), a scrap of melody, the pick of a banjo or strum of a mini-guitar - and weaves them into what could almost be described as faery gold. A child-like magic that can't be described or communicated with words or even recording, because it has everything to do with being there, with the moment as it happens.

As to the animations, they seem at first strange and above all, random. Chad even plays it off, saying with some degree of surprise, "I'm really happy that you guys made it out to the show tonight, especially with so many other good bands playing. Instead, you get to watch me and this stoner video..." With a little bit of his usual self-depreciating humour, he even turns minor sound problems into a part of the performance ("Sorry about this...damn, I totally had this all planned out in my basement, and here it's all falling apart. Apparently, I'm half the man I am in my basement onstage.")

When the music's playing, however, the bizarre animations seem to fall into place, fitting into the greater performance as flawlessly as the other odds and ends that find a home under the greater mantle of Chad's musical and artistic genius. The fact that several of the songs that he plays can't be found on either of his recorded albums speaks to his endless and awe-inspiring creativity, without question making him one of Calgary's brightest artistic and musical talents.

~Ju


The Consonant C
On Myspace Music
On New Music Canada

Racoon
On Myspace Music

Mother Mother
On Myspace Music
On the Web

Chad Vangaalen
On Myspace Music
On Flemish Eye Records

[Local Feature] Intro: Sled Island

For those who have been following the map thus far, Sled Island isn't news, exactly.

However, we here at WHYH are fully aware of how large the internet is. What is obvious and well-known in one area can be totally unheard of in another; local heroes who get tons of coverage and credit in one city might be virtually unknown or less appreciated in places where people can download a few tracks, but not necessarily witness the magic of said bands live.

So, with this fact in mind, I believe a quick rundown of what, exactly, the Sled Island festival is, is in order. An introduction to the festival (now in it's second year, and growing), before we dive into the thing head-first.

First things first: there is, in fact, no place called Sled Island here in Calgary. The real Sled Island is a small island in Northern Alberta where the Cree used to get the birch trees to create toboggans; no one has actually HEARD of it unless you count Zak Pashak (the Sled Island festival founder)...and even he only heard of it when googling interesting names of places in Alberta.

Despite this, the name does serve its intended purpose: it implies an air of fun and youthful energy, which is exactly what Sled Island has by the bucketful. While other older, more established music festivals may strive for a specific ambience, or follow a similar successful template (see Virginfest and Lollapalooza, to name a few), Sled Island's festival identity is something of a breath of fresh air. Modeled after Austin's SXSW, it borrows the showcase structure, but never feels like it's imitating or trying to be anything but a distinctively "Calgary" event.

Very much, Sled Island is about communicating exactly what that means to a community that often sees the city as a once-a-year rodeo and home of the white cowboy hat. While bringing in international-grade talent (not measured in record sales, but honest-to-god musical ability), the festival also seeks to give exposure to some of our most exciting and vibrant local artists, both visual and musical. Overall, Sled Island is about building a Calgarian identity that is more accurate and less stifling than the outdated one that often leads international sources to patronize or underestimate the city as a whole (witness, for example, the Virginfest lineup sent to town >.>).

With this in mind, I hope I can communicate at least to some extent the indescribable feeling in the air at the performances this weekend. A humming excitement that gets inside your bones.

[Live] Sled Island Kickoff: No Age + guests

So, much like everything in life, personal music politics (yes, even those! Wait, it might just be me that has those, but anyways, I digress) are subject to slight hypocrisy every now and again.

"What does this have to do with No Age?" you might wonder.

See also: "What's this I hear about you guys doing endorsement deals?"

See also: "Is this going to be another long anti-Pitchfork rant? Because then I'm leaving."

The answer to all those points, and more, lies beyond this magical gateway of wonder you see just to your left. The one edged with delicious feedback and vocal layers and sprinkled with a touch of avant-noise dust. No...you missed it. Your other left. A bit more...closer...too far! THERE!

Once the distracting faeries and candy-coloured fog has cleared (magical gateways always seem to have this, though at least this one has no annoying rhyming jingle accompaniment), you see a crowded, dimly-lit rock pub with a small stage set across from the booths. There is a sign reading "No Beatniks" above the bar. You might recognize this place...after all, you've been here before, if only in that Sunset Rubdown live review that WHYH did way back.

The place is Broken City; the DJ sucks, except when someone temporarily distracted him from his 70's/80's songs long enough to throw on Mudhoney's "Suck You Dry" for an all-too-brief reprieve from generic radio rock (this probably didn't happen, but I rather like the idea of some mysterious caped crusader sweeping in to knock out the guy that thinks that the crowd at a No Age show are quite obviously fans of Heart-ripoff bands >.>).

You are there, very much because of the force in indie music who you have sworn to revile and loathe for all eternity (especially after that shameful and pathetically shallow-minded review of the new Wolf Parade album...more on that later >.>).

Yes, I owe Pitchfork for my own personal discovery of No Age; I'll give credit where credit is due. This is where the hypocrisy comes in: though I think their outlook towards music, their elitist posturing, and the crippling nature of said outlook on the state of indie music today is somewhat as ridiculous as the gargantuan influence of dinosaur Rolling Stone was back in the day, I generally don't disagree with them when they say something is pretty good. The exception to this is when they gave Justin Timberlake's Futuresex album an 8+ score, whereupon I decided that the blog's fancy touring budget was obviously funded by nefarious means. Apparently, they do endorsement deals too (once again, more on that later >.>).

Anyways, this is ruining the mood, so ignore it as a long, Shakespearean Aside.

The opening acts are perfect warm-ups; excellent local band The Dirty Dirty North (ex. Pants Situation, with the same hooks, more percussion, and more moxie) bring the rock like only they know how, getting the crowd energized and pumped, while Toronto-based progressive no-wavers dd/mm/yyyy (pronounced Day Month Year) clearly remind everyone that anyone expecting traditional verse/chorus/verse song structures devoid of layered effects had better go home. The pummeling of soundscapes immersing an at-capacity bar in sonic texture until you feel it like a solid presence in the air around you is also a good lead-in to the sensory attack of No Age.

Between the arresting energy and passion of the two men onstage, the fever-dream of montage images projected over the scene with lo-fi pixelation and fragmentation, and the kick-to-the-chest of tightly interwoven effects, feedback, vocals, thrashing guitar, percussion, and sheer volume , one doesn't know where to focus, where to look, or listen...it's let go and be taken over by the experience, or perish trying to fight it.

And truthfully, it's a hell of a lot more fun to give in and, to borrow drummer/vocalist Dean Spunt's expression, "lose your shit".

An hour and a half later, partially deaf, disheveled, and feeling almost as if you've been hit with a wave of sound before nearly drowning in it, you leave the tiny bar, a big stupid grin slapped across your face. There's no way you could regret it.

And this is only day one of a four-day multivenue sprawling festival curated by none other than Pavement's Scott Kannberg (i.e. Spiral Stairs) featuring some of the brightest local and not-so-local talents around (Chad Vangaalen to Mother Mother to Wire to Mogwai).

I can safely say I've never been quite so happy that I live in Calgary.


~Ju

P.S: the endorsement deals aren't true. Not a word. Well...unless you count being offered a free Zune in order to market-test the thing. However, in my defense, I state that any and all opinion stated on here in relation to the product will be completely honest. I'm quite neutral when it comes to mp3 players, being a vinyl-junkie and all. XD

Dirty Dirty North
http://myspace.com/thedirtydirtynorth

dd/mm/yyyy
http://myspace.com/ddmmyyyy

No Age
http://www.myspace.com/nonoage