Call me an old fogey, but I’ve been attending hardcore and pseudo-hardcore shows for close to a decade, spent many sweaty nights at L’X and Café L’Inco during my time, and have come to watch the scene somewhat closely, and during that time, I’ve noticed the degeneration of “the scene” (as the kids refer to it as) into a muddled mess of wayward children who care more about their bandanas and cool kicks (often looking like a terrible biker gang than true fans of the music they’re there to listen to.) Although this has been happening for years, Thursday night served as a reminder of the disintegration of a once-enjoyable genre of music ruin
On April 17th I threw on my well worn, black t-shirt bearing a lightning bolt down the front -a shirt that has survived countless brutal slams in the pit and has been soaked in buckets of other people’s sloppily spilt beer. Wearing this shirt out could only mean one thing: I was going to a metal show. 
On May 21st, seasoned metal veterans 
News that the latest Montreal appearance from 
As I’m standing waiting for the bouncer of the Cabaret Juste pour rire to find my name on the guest list (with the typical, what kind of name is that, implying that my name looks retarded, which I know). A situation between said bouncer and one of the night’s performers occurred which I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at:
I have been a big fan of 
If I were to tell you that I was so excited to be given the opportunity to see 
Big Daddy Kane
So I went to the Toronto Comic Art Festival this past weekend. One of the guests was Kagan Mcleod. Dude does a wicked comic called 'Infinite Kung Fu' as well as amazingly beautiful pieces for the National Post. He's also getting well known in rap circles for his ‘History of Rap’ poster. I purchased the first incarnation in 2003 which had about 80 heads. The newest version has over 200, but on both sheets, the female rappers are few and far between. As someone who pays attention to the girlie rappers, I found the whole thing a little disheartening.
Leave it to 
So I'm thirteen years old, chilling out to Dark Side of the Moon in my parents' basement and generally being a weird little creep. Oddly, I don't gravitate towards the 7/4 cockrockery of "Money" or even the Oz-bait wail of "The Great Gig in the Sky" nearly as much as I do the eight-minute centerpiece "Us and Them", largely due to its soaring chorus, languorous pacing, odd spoken asides and lush arrangement. The key to that arrangement, of course, is Dick Parry's mournful sax wailing throughout.
Even though I'm a born and raised Montrealer, I have always had a special place in my heart for Brooklyn, New York. Memories of travelling to get there for shopping and visiting family are as vivid to me as if they happened yesterday. That said, I identify vicariously with any hip hop song or artist that makes reference to Brooklyn. 
Right now the popular music scene has seen a revival of country and folk acts. Oddly enough, a few older punk rockers are making some interesting strives with the likes of Drag the River, Tim Barry, Saw Wheel, Wayne the Train Hancock & Hank Williams III leading the way. Ask anyone of them who have influenced their music, and I’ll bet dollars to donuts, they’ll say Steve Earle.
As I got to Metropolis around 7:15 p.m., I noticed that the place was already packed. I still managed to get a decent spot not too far from the star that hung to the right venue wall. Around 7:30 the show got started with Devon Anthony (John Legend’s little brother) opening up for him. Anthony sounds a little like his older brother but with a different style; he has more of a dub reggae vibe mixed with a typical neo-, Chris Brownish R&B style. His songs were focused on acts in the bedroom and the women loved it.
A preface: This is why I love this city: after an hour of driving up and down unpopulated roads in the downtown core trying to find parking, I came to the conclusion that every road in Montreal I needed to use was blocked. It may have been an hour, it may have been half, all I knew is that I was late for The Creepshow. I mumbled to myself that I must’ve missed the first two opening bands: The Hypnophonics from Montreal and The Dreadnoughts from Vancouver as I slammed the door to my ’92 minivan and hiked up two blocks to the venue.
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