Some people have a way of making you feel like an asshole - people who seem to use every ounce of their energy radiating good vibes and generally make every effort to be singularly awesome. 
This year's Osheaga music festival went off without a hitch.... well, with the exception of a headlining act cancelation, torrential rain and ankle deep mud. This didn’t stop concert goers from flocking to the island however, with Saturday night capping at a whopping 30,000 spectators. Having Coldplay round out the evening will have that effect.
On Saturday, January 17th, I took the 55 bus through the frigid, negative-something weather, and wound up in front of Metropolis to be greeted by a swarm of black t-shirted, long haired fans -the tell tale signs of any self-respecting metal show.
Theory Of A Deadman
Back in 1994 
Ah, 
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.
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