Local Feature: Atomis, Illuminated Minerva, Jung People, TRUCK!!!!

Illustration by Nathan Navetto

Whu...huh...wait, it's WHAT year, you say?

So I went to sleep back around August 2010 and suddenly woke up hooked up to a bunch of monitoring machines and it's July 2011 and I have no idea where the middle time went. O_o

In between the inevitable nausea that deep chemical hibernation seems to cause (I'll be ok...gimme a minute), I have been brought out of stasis for a particular reason. Or so this random dossier that's been slid under the door of the observation cell tells me. Allow me to read it out to you: *clears throat*

"Calgary has an absolutely kicking ambient post-rock/metal scene happening right now. We're not quite sure why all these amazing bands are happening at the same time; it might be something in the tap water, but we're not complaining. Spread the word, or face erasure. Also, don't eat the jelly beans."

*eyes the enormous jar of jelly beans that are inexplicably sitting in the corner of the room, unnoticed until now with suspicion*
                                                                                               
(...and scene.)

The above delusion is actually a long and elaborate metaphor for where the inside of my head was like when I first heard Atomis and TRUCK!!!! destroy the Marquee Room. Part of me had decided that maybe I'm just not cut out to actually maintain a written blog since I seem to be so bad at doing it with any measure of consistency. Or lack of fangirling. Most of me had reconciled with the idea that I should just let this place die gracefully (read: in abject abandonment) and have done with it.

And as soon as I heard those two bands, I knew it was impossible. I felt like I had to write about them; like I had no choice BUT to write about them; like I'd be the worst person to exist, ever (minus the guy that invented syphilis and Stephen Harper combined) if I didn't drag this thing back from the un-dead and write about them. Because when you get down to it, it's not about indie posturing or the free stuff or the money or power or the crushing of your enemies or the lamentations of their women (because, frankly, you get none of those things by running a music blog for free). It's about having somewhere to shout from rooftops when you actually FIND amazing music that makes you lose your shite and thrash around like an epileptic cat when you see them live.


Atomis
Formed from the wreckage of Calgary groups Somastate and Pure City, Atomis (pronounced ATOM-iss) sound like the love-child of Tool, Cult of Luna, and Explosions in the Sky by way of Sigur Ros. Which by thunder I wouldn't want to picture in physical terms, but sounds like angels having sex with your eardrums. Add in the amazing visuals/lights produced by insanely talented drummer Nathan Navetto and you've got one of the most mind-meltingly great bands this city has ever had to offer.

These guys are currently trying to get a grant from the Alberta gov in order to record things properly; I want it to happen so much I pray to the Elder Gods every night.
http://atomis.bandcamp.com/


Illuminated Minerva
I could ramble on and on about what this band sounds like, crafting careful and clever analogies, and never get close to the simple brilliance of this description by the band themselves: "Listening to Illuminated Minerva is like riding a Metal spaceship through Outer Space." By turns punishingly intense and unbelievably gorgeous and melodic, they claim inspiration from classic prog sources like Dream Theater, Mastodon, Gojira, and Deftones, yet where another band might have taken all the worst elements possible in that combination (too-long songs, elitist elitism, prog vocals in general), they seem to have come to that logical conclusion that I reached years ago about most prog bands, being that the overwrought vocals were actually getting in the way. This makes them +10 awesome. They're currently in the studio laying down some tracks, so soon I won't be the crazy lady talking about a band that may-or-may-not exist as far as you guys are concerned.

It's also a well-known fact that their time signatures are more insane than Animal Collective's, so you can try clapping along but good f**king luck to you.
http://www.myspace.com/illuminatedminerva


Jung People
The only duo in this feature, Giordano Bassi and Bryan Buss have been playing together in some form or another since time immemorial, but are relatively new as a post-rock/indie/progressive outfit. Don't let that fool you into thinking that there's anything remotely amateur about their sound or capabilities as musicians. Inspired by everything from Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Do Make Say Think, and Patrick Watson to Wild Nothing, Blonde Redhead, and The Mars Volta, this could sound like a bunch of kids fighting over the iPod but instead comes off as cohesive, lovely, and interesting, thank god. It's clear that these guys are willing to take their music anywhere and everywhere their fancy leads, all while crafting gorgeous, acoustic sonic gems.
Jung People on FBM


TRUCK!!!!
An unbelievably technical and impressive three-piece outfit, TRUCK!! is difficult to find via google or the internet in general given the easy ambiguity that accompanies being named after one of the most common things on Earth (alas, the extra exclamations marks don't really register as search terms). However, anyone that takes the trouble to find them is in for an ear-full of awesome. Even better, they've got an amazing sense of humour (all too lacking in today's "srsbusiness you guys" music environment). In their own words, they sound like: "Chaos and Atmosphere fighting over Elton John's sandwich."

Lastly, any band that gives away their incredible first EP for free online when I would gladly pay for it is instant love.
http://www.truckband.net/

Illustration for "Maelstrom" by Mariella Villalobos

~M

Feature: Ramona Falls

So, with the adage in mind that brevity is the soul of wit, I'll keep this short and to the point:

Ramona Falls's album "Intuit" is easily one of the greatest albums I've heard in a long, long time.

"But how's that possible?" you might ask. "I thought music like that was a myth these days...like unicorns, and 12 grain bread that doesn't taste like squirrels?"

I was beginning to think so too, but apparently I was being preemptively cynical. The closest analogy I can think of for what listening to this album has been like is probably like the first time you heard an amazing indie pop song (it could've been the Pixies, or Franz Ferdinand's "Dark of the Matinee", or it could've not) and were astounded that such amazing music could exist without you knowing about it (before you got all jaded and contracted that nasty case of elitism). Or maybe the first time you heard "Perfect From Now On" by Built to Spill on vinyl and got the shivers, so excited that you just wanted to tell everyone on Earth about it. Y'know, until you remembered that you had no indie friends. Or even that time you saw Sunset Rubdown and Frog Eyes live and realized that probably nothing in your life would ever top seeing Spencer play the opening riff of "Swimming" like a madman possessed by the ghost of another madman.

It's kinda something like that, but even more so because it's probably been ages since you felt so excited and genuinely moved and passionate about an album. An album with not just an all-around great showing and a few songs that make you nerd out, but where almost every song makes you want to actually update that music blog you've been ignoring off-and-on for ages.

Ramona Falls is one third of Menomena (Brent Knopf), as well as a stellar showing of Portland's musical talent, all rolled into possibly the greatest thing on Barsuk other than Menomena itself. And even then, it's a close contest.

I hate to hype, but every once in a while, it's worth it. And who knows, I could come to regret it later, but just for now, I'm going to believe in unicorns and the existence of healthy bread that doesn't taste like a hermit's beard and go with my gut on this one.


~Ju

Ramona Falls
video of "I Say Fever" (also the only song I've played that has had everyone CONSISTENTLY ask me what it is within minutes of hearing it)
on Myspace Music
on the Web

P.S: the new Menomena is out now as well; worth checking out
on Myspace Music
on the Web

Sled Island Day 3: Mainstage + Les Savy Fav

If you were to happen and look around at the lobby in which you are sitting here at WHYH, you might notice four other people in the room with you. One is a kid on a cellphone who can't stop telling his friend all about his personal life over the music playing, two are doing the cuddly couple thing and paying no mind to anything other than their grossly inappropriate PDA, and the third is a crazy homeless guy wearing a box hat who just happened to find his way in when he smelled the mini donuts.

If you've been to more than one outdoor/festival concert, you might find these figures familiar; after all, they're ALWAYS THERE. No matter how hard you try, how many cool people attend a show, these four will find a way in.

Did I mention the incredible police presence at the entrance and exit? No? Look again. Yes, it's not unusual that you didn't notice beforehand; they managed to quietly come in when you were distracted by the box hat hobo just to stand around, looking intimidating. They're sure you have drugs (you probably don't but they'll never believe you telling them that someone could go to an outdoor festival just to enjoy the music).

Yes, outdoor festivals have their drawbacks. But, to be honest, the minute Fucked Up started playing, all these manifold distractions were forgotten in a wave of blistering guitar and vocal awesome. Within five seconds, I'd forgotten everything except rocking out as hard as possible; within one song I'd added the performance to my list of "so awesome live that you can't exactly believe it just happened" bands; within three songs, lead singer Pink Eyes was climbing up on the framework of the stage; four songs in, and I forgot that I was wearing open-toed sandals and ran into the ensuing mosh-hug when he climbed out into the audience (that one I kind-of wish I HADN'T forgotten, but I guess there has to be disadvantages to completely losing your shite somewhere). The band played through most of their set with Pink Eyes moshing and singing with everyone in the audience, pouring free Dr. Pepper all over himself, slowly getting progressively more naked (until finishing the performance completely naked onstage whilst covering the inappropriate bits with the pair of shorts he was attempting to re-don), aind in general making it a performance not soon to be forgotten.

Oh, yeah, the music was pretty awesome too, I guess.

But in all seriousness, Sled Island Day 3 was a day of uniformly hard-rocking bands exceeding expectations musically and performance-wise; from Ted Leo & The Pharmacists' aggressive punk-edged performance, to The Thermals breaking the sky with their awesome and causing a sudden rain shower, to Built to Spill kicking it in the sun and ending said rain (also, playing multiple tracks from my all-time favourite "Perfect From Now On", as well as finishing up the set with the immortal "Carry The Zero"), Olympic Plaza Main Stage was uniformly and incredibly unbelievable.

Afterwards, I headed out to the Distillery to catch Turbo Fruits and Les Savy Fav; once again, the club sound guy was an unbelievable tool who seemed convinced that by playing crappy metal at full volume he might convert the oh-so-ignorant show-goers of the error of their ways. After this, I highly hope to never meet these people in person, lets I be tempted to do something terrible, but it says something that the minute Turbo Fruits, and then Les Savy Fav took the stage, my ears seemed to magically recover, my tiredness fled, and I was once again completely overcome by just how incredibly and unexpectedly godly a band can be live, even when you generally like their recorded material.

Now if tonight is HALF as incredible as the last three days have been, I can safely say that this year's Sled Island has been the best festival, and quite possibly the best musical, experience of my life.

~Ju

Sled Island Day 2: Mini Mansions, Women, The Posies

Day 2 of Sled Island saw us at The Republik, a local venue with a complicated history reading as a local, lamer version of the very movement its name implies, that has nevertheless re-emerged as one of the most likely to host touring indie bands. Larger than most other local pubs/bars/clubs, it's the natural choice for shows likely to attract big audiences (such as The Melvins on July 3rd, and Wolf Parade on July 22nd). The layout is relatively well-suited for accommodating a large audience while allowing more than half of them to actually see what's happening on stage (a feat not many venues can boast of). Now, if only their sound guys would rise to the occasion and not mix every instrument into a high-volume soup, I could wish for nothing more.

The combination of Deerhoof closing out the bill, and local hometown heroes Women playing earlier in the evening made for a large turnout, even for the first band to hit the stage, which is a personal relief. After Deerhoof's set the night before, the opening set came in second for biggest surprise of the festival so far.

Mini Mansions are a trio from Los Angeles, California, and one of the incredible number of high-level bands to hail from that state at this year's fest (such as the incredible Sleepy Sun, who we featured here on WHYH earlier this year). I had taken a cursory listen of their myspace and deemed them decent enough to be worth watching, at least.

Their recorded material barely prepared me to see them live; on record, they could pass for a dreamy "Lucy in the Sky With Diamons"-era Beatles, with a slight turn in the vein of recent successes such as Fleet Foxes. Live, they are a force to be reckoned with; energetic, aggressive, melodic and dissonant by turns in the methodical manner that only the best bands seem to understand: noise takes composition the same way melodies do. They played their hearts out, even when doing an incredible cover of Blondie's "Heart of Glass". Bless them for having the cheapest merch at the show, too.

Nest came Women; one of the best bands Calgary has to offer, their playing was tight and energetic, melodies coming in and out of the ensuing wall of noise as well as ever. The only complaint I had (which was not their fault at all) comes back to the sound mixing I mentioned earlier: the vocals were even more difficult to hear than they should have been due to the sound guy mixing everything loud enough to distort beyond what was required. Sure, Women are known for their lo-fi/noise rock aesthetic, and for playing a loud and rocking show, but in this one instance it actually affected the songs, which was a bit disappointing.

This trend continued with The Posies as well; a legendary Seattle band reunited, with a long and well-respected history. We ended up having to leave our great spots near the stage and go to the back of the club just to be able to enjoy their music, because it seems that after Women's set, the sound guy had adjusted everything by turning it all UP; I'm amazed that the vocalists Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer managed to make their singing heard over the mix; to be honest, the blistering volume made it difficult for us to enjoy what would have otherwise been a wonderful set. Mind you, I could just be getting old and senile, but I'll admit, I'm all for loud music, just as long as you can still hear and enjoy everything that's going on.


~Ju


Mini Mansions
On Myspace Music

Women
On Myspace Music

The Posies
On Myspace Music

Sled Island Day 1: Lorrie Matheson, Wild Choir, Deerhoof

It's that time of year again; the week or so at the end of June that every semi-cultured person in Calgary prays for all year, and the memory of which they then hold onto with both hands during the ensuing horrors of Stampede.

This is the fourth annual Sled Island Music, Film, and Art Festival in Calgary, and possibly its most mature incarnation yet, will well-rounded and incredible lineups in all three areas of interest. The festival has always been great from its very first year, but it seems to finally be settling into its most fully developed and finalized form this year.

And if the kick-off show is any indication, we're in for an absolutely incredible four days.

As anyone who's read WHYH's Sled Island coverage before would know, our favourite venue of the fest is probably Central United Church. Sure, the usual Christian accommodations leave much to be desired in the form of physical (or spinal) comfort; at least there were cushions this year.

No, Central United shines because it has that natural advantage that a sandstone/wood church will have over many a modern club/pub/venue: considered (and excellent) acoustics. Also, the strange combination of independent/avant-garde/rock music and an atmosphere designed to give a feeling of "sacredness" result in a feeling that whatever you witness there will be special.

Last night is no exception; in fact, it currently vies for one of the top spots on my list of all-time greatest shows I've ever had the good fortune of witnessing.

Lorrie Matheson opened the evening, starting strong and not letting up. For those unfamiliar with him, he's a local singing/songwriting institution, with a great lyrics, and excellent rock/bluesy/psych-at-times sound...he describes himself as Western Swing, Shoegazer, and New Wave all rolled into one. As this plethora of genre comparisons might indicate, trying to pin down an exact description of his music is perhaps a futile quest.

Nest came Wild Choir (formerly known as Georgiana Starlington), a Brooklyn group with an interesting 50's-vibe garage rock/surf rhythm vibe and an excellent drummer; I found myself looking at him most of the time, truthfully, which was probably an excellent set-up for what was to come.

See, we were all having a decent time, and then Deerhoof appeared and blasted all previous comparisons, bands, experiences, and expectations out of the water and into the oblivion of outer space.

There are very few bands of which I can say their live show has fully taken all my expectation and thoroughly surpassed every single one with cute Japanese vocals, jaw-dropping start-stop-on-a-dime instrumental proficiency, and possibly the most demonically possessed drummer I have ever seen play (and you may remember, I have some experience with possessed drummers). Recorded material does them no justice, can never describe just how absolutely unbelievable Deerhoof is live. They were bigger than the room, bigger than the audience, bigger than the festival itself.

After about three songs, Greg Saunier stood up from the drum kit he had been pounding into oblivion and proceeded to tell us that we were an incredible audience, in an endearingly awkward and hilarious/rambling manner, ending with "I just realized the number of people I was addressing, and suddenly got stage fright; you'll notice that when I get stage fright, I tend to express myself in a condensed way." Satomi Matsuzaki, not to be outdone, proceeded to be as adorable and endearing as an incredibly small, charming, and energetic female bassist/singer executing the occasional Para-Para routine can possibly be.

And just when we all believed the band couldn't possibly amaze us any more, they all switched instruments and proceeded to further amaze us with their versatility and talent.

Other bands are lucky to have one member with the effortless charisma that every single member of Deerhoof seems to have in spades. Not many bands could get away with playing not only one, but TWO cover songs in their set, let alone classic songs like "Pinhead" by The Ramones and "Going Up the Country" by Canned Heat, let alone with such aplomb. Or pulling out the grand piano in the church for the encore...

In the end, we just went to eat something and grab a drink at the Unicorn, because we felt it just wouldn't be fair to whichever band we saw next to hold them to that kind of comparison.

All in all, an excellent night; I can only hope that more surprises like this are to come.

~Ju


Lorrie Matheson
On Myspace Music
On The Web

Wild Choir
On Myspace Music

Deerhoof
On Myspace Music
On Kill Rock Stars

Feature: Sleepy Sun

The usual apologies aside, I figured I'd just jump right into this one by explaining a little bit how things happen behind the scenes here at WHYH. It goes a little something like this:

I get a torrential flood of e-mail in my inbox. Some of it is music-related. Most are mass newsletter-type deals from various indie record labels, half of which I never signed up for (and, oddly, a lot of them are from the UK). And, I'll be honest, these press release-type e-mails probably only get read about 50% of the time.

Why?

Because I do this on my free time, and as such I don't think it should feel like work to check out a band rec. And because personally, newsletters feel like someone typed up a generic thing and hit the "send" button, then clocked out, went home, and didn't think about it until Monday. Like any other job.

Thus, the fastest way for a band to get my attention is a personal recommendation/suggestion. One specifically addressed to me. Even something as simple as "possible feature?" will get me interested, because I know the person writing the e-mail has actually taken the time to promote said band in a way that demonstrates that they actually give a crap.

Wouldn't you rather listen to a band that someone lovingly cares about enough to write personalized e-mails to even the smallest music blogs?

I thought so.

Such is the case with Sleepy Sun. Oddly, they don't seem like the type of band that would need such personal devotion on the part of their reps to sell them; a Californian band (already a head-start) with an album coming out on ATP June 1st (yes, that ATP), and their tour schedule reads like a map of locations off the North American continent I would go to if I didn't owe the government way too much money for deigning to educate myself. They've got a massive early Sonic Youth-type guitar sound that alone should be enough to convert even the most jaded listeners. I would even venture to state that Sleepy Sun is my favourite new (to me) band of 2010, music that I legitimately like without justification by comparison.

Yes, this seems like the premier example of a band where your average rep would just think a batch promo to half the music blogs on the internet would be enough.

Even so, there it was: a personal request that I check out their upcoming gig at this year's Sled Island and hopefully dig them enough to maybe mention them in the wrap-up. How could I NOT go out of my way to take a listen, even when the added download link didn't work?

I'm glad I did; songs like "White Dove" and "Red/Black" are right up my alley; grungy edged things with enough knowledge of composition to keep their dissonance/raunchy guitar from falling into chaos, and enough hidden melodic hooks to keep the balance interesting. If their upcoming album, Fever, is anything like this, I'll definitely be picking it up.

For those in the Calgary area (or, you know, anywhere in Alberta, you really have no excuse), these guys are playing Sled Island July 1st @ The Telus World of Science...a venue which I personally wish would host bands more often.



Sleepy Sun

On the Web: http://www.sleepysun.net

On Myspace Music: http://www.myspace.com/sleepysun


~J

Christmas Spirit 2009: Indiecater Records Compilation

So, I won't even bother making excuses over how long it's taken to update this thing, since you all know the drill already. Suffice it to say, this blog is a much-enjoyed yet definitely hobbyist endeavour.

Thus, it was something of a surprise to me just how many record label mailing lists and press release e-mail things make their way into my mailbox all the time. I don't take it to mean we're special or anything, but I will admit that I'm filled with guilt on a regular basis, seeing all these lovingly detailed updates when I can't apparently stay on top of my own projects enough to at least listen to most of the music mentioned.

Especially since when I actually manage to get some listening in, it's actually so GOOD.

Which brings us to the subject of this update: a Christmas compilation.

...words that strike fear into the heart of any retail slave. They evoke thoughts of endless repetitions of the Destiny's Child Christmas Album, and Michael Buble singing "Let it Snow" just to capitalize on the fact that he's pretty much doing what Bing Crosby did well sixty or so years ago and not much else. Let's not even talk about Boney M.

However, this compilation comes from Indiecater Records, home of small but sweet outfits such as Adam and Darcie, Candy Claws, and Sunbear...I couldn't help but be somewhat intrigued about what a Christmas comp done by non-commercial bands that don't spend their time bloating Pitchfork's news pages might sound like.

All I need to say is this: this is probably my favourite winter compilation yet.

Sure, some of the songs are about Christmas. Most, however, seem to be about winter and ice and snow, about personal relationships, and about the humanistic elements of the holiday (as in Standard Fare's Tinsel Politics, where lead singer Emma Kupa asks "Tell me, whose parents' are we going to this Christmas? And how many arguments do I have to sit through?"). Even the covers of traditional songs (Allo Darlin's rendition of Baby, It's Cold Outside, Sweet Jane's Silent Night) are refreshingly honest and sweet versions that bring something new, all the while not seeking to overpower the original material like most revisionist carols do.

It's probably the first Christmas comp I've ever heard where the subject is handled in such a sensitive manner. We're expected to be intelligent enough to get it without needing the word "Christmas" and holiday cliche images beaten into our eardrums.

Do yourself a favour and pick this up to play at any parties you plan on hosting this year, indie or no. Now if only I could get it worked into the regular playlist at work for the holidays...*dares to dream*


~Ju

Standard Fare - "Tinsel Politics" MP3
An Indiecater Christmas 2009

[Live] Final Fantasy + Timber Timbre @ Knox United Church

So, if one were to peruse all the way down to the LAST live review this blog did, one might get the impression that churches are the new 'it' venue.

And while that review was done over a year ago and by someone not writing for this blog anymore, this impression would still be correct.

Churches are in. Hip. Cool, even. Not so much when there's churchgoers IN them, maybe, but who can blame the indie scene for wanting to pillage those considered acoustics and (probably) lower rental fees in an almost *gasp* ungodly and impure fashion?

I for one have been rather spoiled by these types of shows (bar shows are a sad shadow, unless Sunset Rubdown happens to be playing); with the exception of two other shows written about on this blog, actually, probably some of the best shows of my existence have been held in churches.

Final Fantasy ranks on that list. Twice.

Back in June, the venerable Owen Pallett graced our humble Central United church (along with Slim Twig and some band named after Tigers which I forget) and proceeded to melt the faces off the sold-out indie gawkers within. A rather astonishing feat, since face-melting is usually reserved for bands with hair long enough to get caught in the rafters when headbanging, one member of whom usually plays the guitar (for the uninitiated, Final Fantasy aka Owen Pallett has neither). The question this time around sat at: was it a one-time magic thing, or would it happen again?

I suppose it's rather unfair of me to pose a question I already know the answer to (I've seen Mr. Pallett, or "Owen" as my sister might call him TO HIS FACE -brave girl-, a previous four times. And he's been amazing precisely the same number of times).

Admittedly, this musical event DID have the benifit of lighting that could do more than just "on" or "off", going as fancy as "fade from one state to the other". Thus, when the lights dimmed, the entire church went silent.

...I mean it. DEAD SILENT. No coughing, or shuffling, or adjusting...DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE GRAVITY OF WHAT I'M SAYING HERE, PEOPLE? This is about as likely my dad forgiving me for the time I dragged him to a Frog Eyes show. Which is pretty fricking unlikely. Think about the last show you went to, even a quiet acoustic one, where everyone LITERALLY SHUT UP COMPLETELY. Even that annoying girl who usually feels the need to call her friends and talk to them through the entire thing, ruin the mood, and squee about how hawt Dallas Green is (I'm looking at you, annoying cell-phone girl *death glare*).

This is even more amazing when you consider that the people ascending the stage were actually the opening band, Timber Timbre. Not the headliner. At all. I think my head just post-exploded.

At the time, however, (before my head exploded thinking about it) I saw fit to observe that this band is wonderful. A true, delightful surprise. Generally, Final Fantasy would be a difficult act to open for and actually have people remember what your band was called afterwards, but this trio from Toronto managed it with aplomb and flawless execution. Especially suited to those lovely acoustics, their recorded material pales by comparison, where the tiny echoes and details are lost. Theirs is music that inevitably made me think of mysterious bayous if an uncroaky Tom Waits decided to suddenly become a Voodoo preist. But still all its own.

A far cry from Pallett's classical-influenced vaguely victorian-styled poetic reflections on life and Canadiana (sometimes), but still somehow fitting.

Asfor the main event...how can I describe the feeling of having the most impossible of high hopes and having them fulfilled completely? Despite Owen Pallett being horribly ill, there was nary a bum note, a rythmic mistake, a misplaced stroke of the bow anywhere. Even people who have professed to not be terribly fond of his recirded material *cough*myinsaneboyfriend*cough* have admitted that seeing him live and watching him literally re-create his songs from the bottom up, solo, from scratch (and, occasionally altered and modified just to make it MORE difficult and interesting) is an amazing experience. That he then proceeds to sing like an angel while playing furious and flawless violin lines and timing his layers just right is beyond my ability to fathom.

Furthermore, hearing "The Butcher" (my favourite thing he's ever done, ever) in such a venue is something that cannot be put into words. I consider it one of the greatest crimes in our present music scene that Final Fantasy doesn't garner as much recognition as the band for whom he composes flawless string arrangements (The Arcade Fire). The man even played an encore despite his state (though I suppose the sound of a church full of people pounding their feet and applauding could be somewhat terrifying to deny).

Seeing as I'm back at school full-time once again for my last and final year before I'm actually supposed to go out and "be a professional" (they still don't have lessons for that, really >.>), it would take the most sublime of sublime shows to bring me to feel as if keeping it to myself is a selfish thing to do. Even more so to do more than feel vaguely guilty about not writing about it and actually write about it.

This was just that show.


~Ju


Timber Timbre:
On Myspace Music

Final Fantasy
On the Web
On Myspace Music

Feature: The Drones

So, I now know why writers keep little notebooks stashed about their persons; it keeps you from forgetting things like where you put the prune juice and whether or not you've left your glasses ontop of your head again.

In this vein, I totally had something interesting and meaningful to say about the state of music/a point to make on the debate going on over at http://www.x929.ca/shows/newsboy/?p=1417#comment-911 about whether or not the Calgary music scene is stagnating, but it seems to have vacated my brain like the concepts of simple human interaction, decency, and taste have vacated the mainstream music vending business. >.>

So, instead of ranting on about how the scene isn't stagnant, rather we've all gotten lazy and old and self-conscious about jumping around at shows, or about how The Noseholes could have been GREAT had they not broken up (unrelated, but it would've ended up in there anyway), I will instead suck it up like the BAMF I wish I was and tell you about The Drones.

First of all, The Drones are, indirectly, the reason why I joined this blog and consequently ended up keeping it limpingly, ever so slightly alive when Sheez and Phil jumped ship. And yes, I even suppose I knew about them back then, but it's all a little hazy in the manner of timing since it all happened when I was a doe-eyed, impressionable, and insatiably enthusiastic music hunter trying to track down literally every band mentioned by Kurt Cobain, ever.

No, he didn't mention the Drones, but we'll get to how the two are related.

Through this music-hunting process, I quickly began to realize that exposure wasn't always proportional to quality when it came to music, even in the indie community. Some bands would get huge just based on a good pitchfork review, and others would have their precious hopes dashed by a mediocre one. Some had good reviews and seemed to get the shaft anyway, while others had crap reviews and STILL had legions of fans (I'm looking at YOU, The Killers). This bothered me.

Thus, when I was offered a spot writing on the blog, I took it as a chance to help spread love of those bands whom I thought didn't get the kind of love they deserved (You'll remember that my first ever post was pushing The Wipers, who are still criminally overlooked even by punks who should know better). Of course, once it was only me writing and updating I couldn't just focus on that area, but I always thought about it anyway.

(See? I told you it'd all come together)

The Drones are just such a band. Despite generally favourable coverage by Rolling Stone and Pitchfork, you still have to go very far out of your way indeed to actually find a person in the real world who's heard of them. (As far as Australia, I believe, but don't quote me on that)

Maybe it's a case of a name affecting your chances, maybe just bad luck, but really, this band is wonderful. And no, they don't do sludge rock or rock out on the bagpipes, thanks for asking. Lyrically, their music is at times beer-soaked and at other times introspective, image-laiden and charmingly sung in a clearly Australian accent...on that note, it's frankly WONDERFUL to hear a band sing unabashedly the way they speak without trying to sound accessibly American. Jangly guitars create raucus Pixie-esque rockers to melodic, acoustic-friendly ballads (of the non-annoying variety). And best of all, the style changes between songs so that you never feel like you're listening to the same song on repeat for twenty minutes.

Lastly, it has staying power...the first time I heard 'Sharkfin Blues' from their "Wait Long By The River ..." album, I loved it. It's now been five years, and hearing it again, it's still just as lovable and brilliant as it was back in high school.

Odds are, if you go out and look for their albums in a record store, you probably won't have much luck finding a full selection. Luckily, the band also distributes the albums through their site directly, which I'd generally recommend people do anyway.

So, to sum up: this band is a) wonderful, b)underrated, and c)deserving of every penny and enthusiastic comment that may or may not convince them to include Canada in their journeys *hint hint* Check 'em out!

~Ju


The Drones can be found:

On the web: http://www.thedrones.com.au
On Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/thedronesthedrones

[EP Review] Unsparing Sea - "In The Crystal Canyon"

*looks around* What? I'm actually updating in a decent amount of time. And no, the world isn't going to end.

To the point!

If you think far, far back into the annuls of your memory, you may remember a band by the name of Unsparing Sea. Then again, in blog time, it's only two posts back that I reviewed their album A Cloud in the Cathedral, but I assume most people reading this will be too ADD, disinterested, or senile to actually RE-READ anything on here.

Well, your eyes don't deceive you, I am in fact covering their newly (well, a month or so old now) EP. And with good reason, too. While those of you with memories long as a wizard's beard may remember that I definitely liked A Cloud in the Cathedral, the four songs on In the Crystal Canyon prove without a doubt that this is a band ill content to sit around and make the same album over and over again.

Cathedral was aptly named; the melodies were soft and soaring, conjuring images of floating through spaces designed to project words and song up to the heavens. And while there were moments of earthly groundedness, you never quite lose that sensation. Crystal Canyon, on the other hand, begins on a vastly different note; "Wolves At the Wedding" opens the EP in a darker direction, a rumbling baseline and low-pitched cello keep things unnerved and brooding. Those higher, etherial voices are still here, but softer and more atmospheric, giving one the feeling of unease.

"Diamond Caverns" follows hot on the heels of the first track, and while it doesn't conjure images of teeth coming out of the woods to get you, it's still a far cry from the stargazing sound of songs like "God Will protect the Naive" from the previous album. The minor-major shift throughout the song makes it a transitional point between the first and second half of the EP.

"Dear Playwright" is a return to softer territory, but if Cloud was the dream, it's obvious that we've woken up here. Overall the song is crisper and more articulated than it might have been one release ago.

"All I Want" closes the album on the same note; slower than the first half, on a major tone, but even though an organ sounds in between the other melodies it can hardly be mistaken for a call back to drifting through exhalted spaces.

All in all, Crystal Canyon is the sound of a band more experienced as both songwriters and musicians, confident with their sound and willing to begin pushing it in other directions.


"Wolves at the Wedding": mp3

Feature: Stagehands - Broadway Rock, You Say?

*scene: a dark stage. suddenly, a single spotlight flickers to life, illuminating...an empty chair. From somewhere, a familiar voice begins to speak.*

Ju: ...

*sounds of shuffling, and one sharp microphone squeal*

Ju: -this thing on? Hello? Okay, we're good. Sorry everyone. Sheesh...here I was going to be all dramatic...I guess Chad Vangaalen is the only person that can make technical difficulties charming.

*polite cough interrupts*

Ju: Okay, got it...move this thing along. Here's the bit where I apologize for being largely absent from the blogosphere for ages, and give the usual "I'm an illustrator, and a few hours sleep comes before writing anything more involved than a post-it note. BUT! If you want to see what I've been doing...here! A peace offering in the form of illustrations about toilet squids!"

page 1
page 2 - spread

Ju: Now that I've thoroughly managed to confuse and befuddle the issue, I see fit to actually get to the point, being why I've decided to update the blog. Also, why I decided to try something new out with the theatrical setup (whether or not it failed is irrelevant; I guess I've always been better suited to backstage work).

The point here is Stagehands, a self-styled "Broadway rock" band from Toronto with both aspirations of creating something just a little bit different and bringing back that good ole thing called "narrative" that us illustrators are oh-so-fond of (and which has been missing from music in general, with a few exceptions).

I'm not going to lie; I thought long and hard about how to swing this; how do you go about featuring and describing a band that says it's not exactly a band, but also a production that claims influences from sources as diverse as Nightmare Before Christmas and Green Day? I agonized on this point for a bit, until I realized that frankly, the idea speaks for itself. Admittedly, the idea could fall flat on its face if not executed properly; the tough thing about walking the line between several genres is that you run the risk of losing your point.

Take Visual Kei, for example. A genre I have problems with in general, because I've never been a fan of bands that put fashion above music (grunge school graduate speaking here, of course). I always figured that if a band is good, the music should speak for itself, even if everyone looks like they just got up and threw on whatever was on hand. On the other hand, I've always loved theatre, which the VK bands claim to be influenced by.

Ay, there's the rib.

Or the rub, even.

Point is, looking at what Stagehands does, they succeed where all those VK bands fail, because their music is more about embracing the aspects of theatre and narrative than about using it as a gimmick. It's not about costumes, it's about NARRATIVE. Because theatre (and even music) is storytelling, and stories are always better when visual and auditory and sensory things collide with a decidedly satisfying "clang". What VK bands do is fashion, what stagehands does is theatre (with enough of a rock injection to make it exciting for those who think music + theatre = Gilbert & Sullivan, or worse yet, jazz hands, Mamma Mia! and Stage West for the Calgarian set...*shudder of horror*).

Stagehands's album, "The Silent City", actually has a storyline. A kickaxe one which I would give my eye teeth to illustrate as a graphic novel, actually. It's got the meta-level of being about a songwriter, a fantasy setting, masks, an evil-yet-charming Mayor who controls an entire city, the battle between individuality and fame...this is some serious Tim Burton sh*t right here. In fact, my drawing hand is itching to start on designs for characters as we speak (makes it exceedingly difficult to type, if you must know).

While I know that there's been narrative concept albums before, the difference is, this band actually theatrically inclined enough to perform the thing as a production rather than a concert. (In fact, I'm not-so-patiently checking their touring schedule to see if they might come anywhere close to the lonesome crowded west...>.>)

In this world of endlessly referential acts that "sound like ___" or "are a mix of band x and band y with an injection of genre z", where PR obscures the music with a blizzard of buzzwords and meaningless categorization, it's nice to see someone genuinely try to come up with something a little bit different.

~Ju


Stagehands:
website
on Myspace

publicbroadcasting.ca: Will CBC Axe Radio 3?

publicbroadcasting.ca: Will CBC Axe Radio 3?

As a Canadian, this topic is close to my heart.

As a fan of music in general, this topic is absolutely VITAL.

"Why should I care?" you might wonder, especially if you're the type of person who:

a) Doesn't live in Canada
b) Thinks that all broadcasting is lame, anyway
c) Has never heard of Radio3

Frankly, you should care because Radio3 is the only national support that the numerous stellar indie bands this country can boast about has (of which The Arcade Fire and Broken Social Scene are only two).

Read the post, of course; they articulate a million times better why Radio3 is worth saving. But I'll add my two cents and say that the station is one of the only ways that many people can actually gain exposure to the exciting and original things going here musically; we, who lament of a national identity could very well boast: "Well, I'm not sure exactly what being a Canadian means, but we damn well have some of the best music in the world!"

...well, it could happen. >.> Don't grudge me my hopes and dreams, dammit.

Here's hoping the government pull their heads out of their rears on this one. >.>

Here's the link to the petition:

http://petitionspot.com/petitions/saver3


Thanks for listening

~Ju

Album Review: Unsparing Sea - A Cloud in the Cathedral

This has been a long time coming, for which I apologize a million times over to this wonderful band; it's easy to get lost in the plethora of minutae that seem to make up life at large, and before you know it it's already 2009.

I still have trouble remembering to write an '8' at the end of the date. >.>

I know what you're thinking: "Man, you must be getting senile in your old age, the rambling is worse than usual." However, in this case, you'd be wrong; the preamble ties in, I promise!

What I'm getting at is this: with the frantic pace of modern life, it's sometimes difficult to take time out and enjoy the things that, in reality, are the best parts.

See: The Unsparing Sea

(How's THAT for a smoking gun? *is smug*)

A Cloud in the Cathedral is one of those albums you want to listen to completely and wholly; it's the type of album I'd buy on vinyl, because this would guarantee that I wouldn't be tempted to multitask. I'd just sit back and listen to the beautiful melodies weaving through my head and forget the world for a blessed few minutes of sheer music bliss.

Opener "O! Form O! Place" gets us started; in our minds, we are taken to the musical equivalent of your Happy Place. A place where nothing bad can happen, at least melodically speaking. Easygoing guitar, vocals, percussion, and violin carry us through the passing landscape at a comfortable pace. I'd compare it to an establishing shot in a film, one where the landscape is as important and grandiose as any of the characters.

You feel the passage of time suspended within a seemingly timeless moment; from the melancholy moments ("National Guard") to the happy and energetic ("I Wasn't There, That Didn't Happen") to the waterborne ("On Sinking Ships"...okay, usually road trips aren't seafaring, but I've always wanted them to be in part. I'll allowed >.>); there are moments of breathtaking beauty and moments of regularity, each moment has its place, and none seem rushed or out of place. The transitions are natural, and all in all, we are different people at the end of the journey than we were at the start.

Overall, A Cloud in the Cathedral reminds me of traveling across open spaces; it's the sound that plays in your head on a long drive with no hurry, where you're completely at peace and in a state of contentedness, watching the landscape outside your window as it rolls past. (Usually, in this scenario, I would probably imagine myself as not being the driver >.>) Or, much like their name, you could maybe slow it down and make the connection to a slower, more majestic time and the feeling of traveling across an ocean.

All in all, it's a journey you won't regret taking.

P.S: check out their website; it's actually really nicely designed, and really gives you a feel for their sound in visual terms.


Grade: R, for road trip; an album that goes places and changes in subtle ways.

Notable stops: "National Guard", "God Will Protect the Naive", "A Lion With No Teeth"



music:
"God Will Protect the Naive"
http://www.mediafire.com/?wzyf3rxy3ic

on Myspace:
http://myspace.com/unsparingsea

on the web:
http://www.unsparingsea.com/

~Ju

[Opinion] The Zune Test

Hi all...I know, I know. >.> The disappearing act again. I know that saying the usual words doesn't make it any less disheartening for those of you still waiting on the final installments of our exciting musical adventures this summer, but fact is that real life gets in the way of the pleasures of blogging.

If ACAD took blog posts as tuition credits, rest assured that this would be the most prolific blog on the internet. More so than FilmDrunk, even. O_o As it stands, however, the current rate is all that we can afford (financially) to do. -_-;

This last week before school starts up in earnest, and I turn officially-too-old-to-still-be-hip-and-opinionated (21), I will try to grind out what I can, especially the promised articles mentioned before. (I'm looking at you, Unsparing Sea...never fear, your CD is still sitting in my files, and on heavy rotation, I might add XD. I even listen to it when I should be doing boring music-retail paperwork at work. O_o)

And so it begins...THE ZUNE TRIAL!!!

(Any and everyone who didn't bother to read the "gratuitous product placement/Is WHYH selling out?" blurb will juat have to pretend that they did and nod along with the rest so as to appear less like an illiterate infidel).


Sooo...the zune. The infamous zune...it arrived later than expected due to FedEx failing to do what they apparently do best: deliver things. However, when the little package arrived, I was quite pleasantly surprised at the care taken in designing the overall look of the thing; the quickbook even has these cute little die-cut holes displaying colour through the black sheet, which makes the design geek in me squee with joy, but nevertheless makes everyone else yawn with disinterest.

Moving on. >.>

The player itself is rather sober in design; I personally wouldn't mind a little more flaire, but this might just be the 8 GB version. (A friend of mine has the 60 GB, and I must say, it's a thing of beauty..oh that lovely, lovely screen!)

I'm not a superficial gal, however, and content is really what I'm looking for. In this department, the player is more than solid; from an easy-to-comprehend interface on the computer to an attractive display on the zune screen itself (which, might I add, is customizable), you can tell that a lot of thought and effort was put into trying to make the thing functional, attractive, and interactive. Links make it easy to find out info on the artists you're listening to, while the zune Social online functions a little like last.fm/jango in letting you interact with other users and check out what they're listening to. Transferring files is also uber-easy; just drag and drop artists, songs, or albums, onto the device.

This is where things get just a little dicey; transferring albums vs. artists sometimes results in different listings on the device. Annoying for those of us who organize our record collections down to even the colours of the spines, but easily bypassed if you just do the artist thing...more functional.

Where the zune shines is in the bluetooth connectivity that some brilliant person thought to bestow on the player. This is the DS of digital music payers; you can connect with any other zune in the area and trade songs, files, etc. You can synch it with you laptop, or XBox, for those who think GTA4 requires just ONE more radio station. >.>

Gone are the days where teachers would rail at me for sharing headphones (a pointless argument, I always thought, but that's another debate); instead the song can be sent via bluetooth and checked out at a later date.

These files expire in three plays, but you KNOW that out there, there's bound to be a person working on how to bypass this little obstacle. *grins*


So, all in all, summary:

-nice overall design; finally, a half-intelligently-designed alternative to the fuhrer of DMPs, the iPod

-logical overall design to the product; navigation gets rid of the illogical wheel and replaces it with a straight touch pad. Up and Down, instead of around and around and around...QuickNav lets you skip through the alphabet with fewer strokes, too>.>

-battery life could be better. Having the A/C wall adapter is a lilfesaver here...who wants to boot up their comp every time just to recharge the thing in about two hours?

-OMG music sharing! Outside of the interbutt! Woo!

-...on that note, someone PLEASE get working on the "get rid of play limit on transferred files" thing. >.> Er, I mean, buy the songs on the Zune Marketplace, kids! ^^;;;;;;;;;


~Ju

[Live] Okkervil River

Walking into Central United Church last Thursday, I couldn’t help but be overcome with a sense of pride. For a city that, three years ago didn’t even have one half-decent indie music festival, Calgary has matured quite a bit musically. As we shuffled into a pew near the back of the church, I paused to reflect on how lucky I felt. Okkervil River (THE Okkervil River) was playing this tiny little venue in my almost culturally devoid city. For a moment I considered kneeling and saying a prayer (God bless you Zak Pashak. God bless your children. God bless your children’s children.) but instead I decided to take advantage of my situation and watch The Consonant C play the end of their set. After a couple more opening bands, (all of which Ju has already covered, so I won’t bore you with my impressions) Okkervil took the stage.

A month ago, if you’d asked me whether or not I thought a church was an ideal local for a band like Okkervil River to play, I probably would have said something along the lines of “I’d rather watch them play in a bar.” However, if at any point in my life I’d actually said that, then I would now be forced to devote the next forty years of my life to discovering a way to travel back in time so that I could kick myself in the nads.

Okkervil’s set began with their latest single, “The President’s Dead” and from there on in they played every damn one of their songs that I wanted to hear live. From the epically soaring song “The Latest Toughs” to the introspective suicide tune “John Allyn Smith Sails” and finally finishing with the spaghetti western themed “Westfall”. Will Sheff’s voice rang out across the chapel and perhaps it was just the setting but the band’s performance seemed to take on a hallowed air.

I’ve heard Okkervil River described as a great many things in my time. People have affixed them with the labels of Indie, Folk, Country, Alternative Country, and straight up Rock. At one point I would probably have affixed them with a label myself, but after seeing them play live, I can honestly say that none of the above labels can even begin to describe their sound. Not to mention the fact that Will Sheff’s lyrics are beyond poetic. Their weight live transcends anything that you could hear in a recording, making these Austen, Texas darlings a must-see.

Check them out this fall on their tour for their new album, The Stand-Ins, available September 9th in the USA and Canada and on October 13th in the UK and Europe.
09-12 Lawrence, KS - The Bottleneck
09-13 Omaha, NE - Slowdown
09-14 Madison, WI - Barrymore Theater
09-15 Fargo, ND - Aquarium
09-17 Seattle, WA - The Showbox
09-18 Vancouver, British Columbia - Richards on Richards
09-19 Portland, OR - Crystal Ballroom
09-21 San Francisco, CA - Treasure Island Festival
09-23 Los Angeles, CA - Henry Fonda Theatre
09-24 Solana Beach, CA - Belly Up Tavern
09-26 El Paso, TX - The Blue Iguana
09-26-28 Austin, TX - Austin City Limits Music Festival
09-30 New Orleans, LA - The Republic
10-1 Birmingham, AL - Matthew's Bar & Grill
10-2 Athens, GA - 40 Watt Club
10-4 Richmond, VA - The National
10-6 New York, NY - Webster Hall
10-7 New York, NY - Webster Hall
10-8 Northampton, MA - Pearl Street Nightclub
10-9 Millvale, PA - Mr. Smalls Theatre
10-10 Buffalo, NY - Tralf Music Hall
10-11 Montreal, QC - Les Saints
10-12 Toronto, ON - Phoenix

~Phil

[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

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[Opinion] The Fr0k is Full of Failure

So.

It HAS been a while. >.>

I know, I know...aren't we all getting tired of every post starting the same way? "Can't you ever think of some new and refreshing way to say it?" you ask. Or, better yet, "Why don't you just update WHYH regularly and avoid this whole song-and-dance altogether?"

To which I answer: "No. Writing is a pleasure, and thus is denied me during the school year. Now sit down and read the damn post."

Well, we'll leave the last part optional. See, this is a different sort of article for WHYH...sure, we've touched on these topics before, but never in a full, limelight sense.

So no, there are no new Calgary bands being highlighted in this particular post. You'll have to wait for our coverage of the phenomenal Sled Island Festival 2008 for that stuff.

No, young ducklings...here is entirely a rant.

A rant against Pitchfork, nonetheless.

Some of you might gasp. "Blasphemy!" Or you might yawn, because our dislike has always been...well, at least rather obvious. Also, a few might think that we're ganking this sh*t from Hipster Runoff, but rest assured, you doubters; we disliked them first, and I can't stand reading a blog full of chatspeak, even if it is for the sake of irony. >.>

So, why now? Why the full post instead of merely snidely making remarks in the margins of our show reviews and band features, like usual?

The answer might seem a little innocuous at first:

Kensington Heights.

(For the uninitiated and, on the whole, asinine group that might have question marks over their heads, Kensington Heights is the name of the rather good, nay, fricking awesome new Constantines album. Ju would also like to add that you should all go buy it, or die in a fire)

Truthfully, Kensington Heights isn't the first album I've disagreed with Pitchfork's rating of. Usually, I can even concede the points they make, though whether or not said points are enough to break the album for me is a different matter. Hell, they're even right a lot of the time, like on the last Trail of Dead album. >.>

However, this might be the first time that I've felt so strongly. Possibly due to the fact that the review did not, in actuality, list any real points in justification of the poor rating the album received. Possibly because I hate the "build them up and knock them down" attitude that seems to purvey the blog's reviewing on the whole. Also, quite possibly, because I'm a rabid believer in the Second Coming that the Constantines and their music represent. ^^;

I've realized, though, that the issue seems to go deeper. For a while now, I've felt slight frustration with the overall jaded mentality of the review staff; the enthusiastic ones are kept entirely to news reporting, it seems. Above all, I begin to see that blog as damaging to the fledgling nature of a lot of indie music.

When was the last time you saw an album rated above a 9.0 on that site? Okay...now, when was the last time you saw a perfect 10?

I can understand the attitude of hyper-criticality that seems to grow and permeate the spaces of the "educated" in any subject, mainly because I'm in a very similar environment at school. Critique is an important and valuable tool to any artist. However, the fact remains that Pitchfork has vastly grown in both size and influence; now, the review your album receives DIRECTLY influences the amount of attention you, as an artist, receive...and sometimes your very reputation. Thus, this hyper-elitist critical sense no longer works as a balancing force, but an overwhelming one.

What I'm saying is this; while it makes sense that jaded critics might never give out a perfect album score these days, it perpetuates the belief that good/influential, nay, perfect music is something that could only happen ten-plus years ago. That good, influential, and classic albums aren't being made anymore; in turn, this stagnates the creation of music, because it keeps artists turning to the same old references, the same old albums, and the same old sounds.

See, this wouldn't be such a problem if the Fr0k wasn't so damn HUGE. But it IS huge; anyone can see that the place has expanded massively over the last few years, especially to become a powerhouse media force; since the digital realm is essentially the place where indies and majors compete on almost level playing ground, it's not a far stretch to compare Pitchfork to what MTV used to be back in the 80's; a venue for bringing music that doesn't get exposure through regular means to a larger audience.

And much like that media mogul, it's only a matter of time before the force that used to be an "in" for the little guy begins to act much like the forces that provoked its inception in the first place.

Anyways, I've taken the ball and run with it...if we focus this back down to a personal level, I'll leave it at this: Pitchfork is, above all, just one opinion. Too often, readers tend to hearken that opinion to some omniscient and all-powerful god of indie, but the truth really is that it's still run by average people. People who may get the news first, due to media connections and budget; people who are actually right many a time about positive reviews for bands; and people who generally have been around the circuit for a while...but still people.

As such, they can only suggest to you what to check out and what to ignore, but the final decision in terms of taste comes down to the individual; what we, as indie listeners often pride ourselves on is the fact that we've got a personal opinion on music that hasn't been force-fed to us via a glossy marketing campaign and sheer repetition. We've discovered these bands through personal effort and discerning taste, and decided ON OUR OWN that it's good. Why would you want to hand over that power to someone else all over again?

~Ju


P.S: Really. Everyone should check out Kensington Heights. At least in MY opinion, it's a great album; probably my favourite next to Shine a Light. ^^

Live: WHYH does Lollapalooza

"So," (you might ask) "What might WHYH have to add to the plethora of Lollapalooza 2007 reviews and retrospectives littering the blogosphere that we haven't seen before?"

And the answer, in our fine, mature, and well-stated elegant prose is:

Well...um...not much, really.

No doubt by this time, the truly curious will already have lived the event vicariously through the coverage offered by large, mega-staffed, well-funded superblogs like the 'Fork *shakes fists at their budget and staff, the wankers*, but the fact remains that those jaded hipsters seem to forget just what an experience like that means to someone that doesn't have the thing happening in -almost literally- their own backyard. Those of us struggling through Design School in Calgary, Alberta just DON'T have the option to go to Pitchfork Fest, to Bonaroo, to all of Folk Fest and Sled Island, even. By proxy, this means that we probably don't take the whole shebang for granted the way that those guys might, and usually do.

Fact of the matter is, for those of us who just love music, beyond the name-dropping, the "indier-than-thou" posturing, and the giant aviators, a weekend of unadultered live shows by some of the bands that you never dreamed you would ever get to see (what with living in a city NOT considered a hub of culture and artistic expression) is beyond amazing.

So, let's just forget that someone else HAS said everything journalistically about the event. Let's treat this like what it is, really: a friend coming back from one of the most musically exciting experiences they've had thus far, telling you about how wicked the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Daft Punk were live, how being stuck behind people a foot and a half taller for an hour before any given show sucks but is ultimately worth it when Iggy Pop calls up the entire front row to dance onstage, and just how out-of-control Pearl Jam's stardom seems to be when the entire field leading up to the stage is literally CRAMMED with bodies starting at 11:00 a.m., while the band is slated to play at 8:00 p.m. that night.

Thank god we're not Pearl Jam fans. >.>

Getting right down to it, there's a lot of ground to cover, so we'll go point-form and (hopefully) easy to follow:

Day 1 - Friday
Saw last part of Ghostland Observatory's set, which was amusing, but could probably get old rather fast; caught Ted Leo's set at the Myspace stage and was rather impressed, especially by his hardcore punx-ness. Watched Against Me for irony's sake. Left for two hours and ate amazing Chicago steak, returning in time to catch the end of the Black Keys. Watched LCD Soundsystem play "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House" RIGHT BY where Daft Punk would be playing later that evening. Danced like an idiot to the rest of their set, then completely and totally lost it at Daft Punk, which was one of the most amazing electronic experiences I've ever witnessed. Truly, they are Alien Robot Rock GODS.

Day 2 - Saturday
Got to Grant Park early and watched I'm From Barcelona's lovely, happy-hyper Swedishery while Phil caught Tokyo Police Club's set on the opposite side of the park (yes, he is, surprisingly, alive. However, he is also, curiously, mute and seems to be plagued with keyboard dyslexia). Rushed off to see Tapes 'n Tapes rock it up at the Myspace Stage (another performance that impressed me with new appreciation for the band's material and ability to play in the BEATING HOT SUN), then stood in a crowd much larger than expected to humour my way through Cold War Kids; this, if nothing else, has impressed me with the fact that they are a TEENSY bit overrated. Rushed off to see Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (and was, once AGAIN, surprised), then listened from a distance to the Hold Steady while crushed in a massive crowd waiting for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Following Karen O's gyrations and that band's all-around awesomeness, sheltered from the sudden rain and watched Spoon, who were great, then Interpol, who I had seen before. Later, realized that my poncho smelled more like cigarette smoke and weed than all my concert shirts ever put together.

Day 3 - Sunday
Missed the morning, due to family obligations on the part of Philip. While it was a bummer to miss Los Campesinos!, it was somewhat interesting to see a real, honest-to-god suburb. Got back to Grant Park at the tail end of Apostles of Hustle, but rushed off to watch Iggy Pop & the Stooges rock it up like it was 1969. Which, they played first. Which is my favourite song by them ever. ROCK! Also, due to his calling up the first few rows onstage to dance, we got second row for Modest Mouse, which was even more rock. Lamentably, this also meant that we couldn't go see Peter Bjorn & John (one of the list of missed acts that still causes twinges of sadness), but instead we were ridiculously closer to Isaac Brock, Johnny Marr, and the rest than I will probably ever be again. Following their set (which lamentably included no cuts off Lonesome Crowded West, le sob, though it was wonderful anyway), caught the end of TV on the Radio, and wished for probably the billionty-eth time that some of these bands would just PLAY THE BLOODY CANADIAN WEST ALREADY.

Afterwards, sat eating cheesecake with Philip and dissing Pearl Jam while no-doubt surrounded by evangelical fans. We seem to like danger, apparently. XD We left three or four songs in, seeing as they weren't playing "Do the Evolution" and "Even Flow", whereupon they then revenged themselves upon us by playing those two songs when we weren't close enough to see the screen anymore, but still close enough to hear the music. Bleh.

****Food for thought: Despite the fact that it's fun to rag on Pearl Jam, the real reason we left was more along the lines of this - the stage was WAY too far away to see, and the screen was so distant as to be smaller than a TV. Which provokes the question of whether it wasn't just like, well, watching Pearl Jam on TV. *shrugs* This causes me to ruminate on the nature of the live show vs. the screen broadcast, but these thoughts are probably more of interest to crackpot philosophy students than anyone that might actually trip and stumble on this blog. Crackpot philosophy students don't have the internet, anyway. XD

~Ju