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311 + Slightly Stoopid @ Metropolis
By Stephanie Ng Wan - We . Are . Canadian - 03/19/2008
Slightly Stoopid opened the show at precisely 8pm on the dot last week. They were a reggae-influenced group with elements of punk and ska that at times reminded one of the earlier stuff of 311, the night’s headlining act. While the Metropolis was empty when I walked in a little before show time, the room quickly filled up as Slightly Stoopid got more and more into their set. They played for a solid forty-five minutes and aptly warmed up the audience with their at times mellow and other times more upbeat performance.
After a rather lengthy intermission of over thirty-five minutes, 311 hit the stage. Now, I consider myself an “old school” 311 fan so my desire to attend their Montreal show was more for nostalgic reasons than anything else. And while the Nebraskan group was sure to acknowledge those in the crowd familiar with some of their earlier work, the concert was definitely geared to their newer fans.
While it’s a bit rare for an act to tour when they have no recent album out (311’s last full-length, Don’t Tread on Me, came out three years ago) or at least very soon on its way (the group only recently announced that they are in the initial writing stages for a record that is to come out sometime in 2009), 311 decided to arrange their Spring tour to include dates for Canada this time around. As such, one would think then that 311 would feel a bit more freedom to play whatever songs they liked from their repertoire because they have no actual record to promote or concentrate on, and while they did play a fairly generous twenty songs in total, it would have been nice to hear a few more oldies in their set.
311 did play twenty tracks, but the show only lasted about an hour and 20 minutes. The majority of the alternative rock quintet’s songs are fairly short in length and they seemed even more sped up that night. They played the tunes well but, it seemed, not with much passion or energy. The group has been together since 1993 and yet there was very little band camaraderie present -- in fact, all the members seemed located especially far apart. The drummer was on a raised platform near the rear of the stage with the bassist in one corner and the lead guitarist all the way in the other. The two vocalists, Nick Hexum and SA Martinez (who is also the DJ of the band) would take turns singing their respective parts, barely interacted with one another. They did dance and groove to the music as required (one of them doing a much better job than the other I might add), and the requisite “thank you”s to the cheering crowd were made but at almost forty dollars a ticket, I would have expected a bit more from the band than just simply and straightly playing their songs (for the most part anyway).
About halfway through the set, the band did go for a bit of a change of pace as percussionist Chad Sexton went into a drum solo in the middle of a song. The other members walked off to give him his moment in the spotlight -- literally -- as the rest of the stage darkened and only Sexton and his drum set were lit up. While the audience watched the performance, a small set change was performed under the cover of the dark and as Sexton started his finale, the lights went up to reveal the rest of the members of 311 back on stage, standing in a semi-circle in front of the drummer, each one with a single drum which they begin to hit in synchronicity along with Sexton leading the way.
Among the songs 311 performed that night were the singles, “Don’t Tread on Me,” “Amber,” “Come Original,” “Prisoner” and “Down,” which Hexum dedicated to all the old school 311 fans. These were the tunes that, at like any show, received the most enthusiastic response from the largely male audience. Non-single tracks that were played included “Freeze Time” and “Rub a Dub.” The songs that I wanted to hear that were missing: the 1996 hit from their self-titled disc, “All Mixed Up,” as well as “Beautiful Disaster” and “Transistor” from their 1997 LP, Transistor. The three-song encore included 2003’s “Creatures (For a While)”, taken from Evolver.
What I found the most interesting about the show was the fact that 311 certainly rock much harder live than they do on their albums, which are more melodious, and reggae or pop-sounding. I did not expect the mosh pit to get as violent as did during some songs, though during others, 311 did slow things down, for example, with a Caribbean island-style instrumental jam during one song.
Perhaps what the band needs is new material to be excited about; they have the fans, the songs, and the experience. With an album in the works, there is sure to be a tour to follow sometime in 2009. While I enjoyed hearing some of the songs I loved back in the day, I would also have enjoyed feeling more like 311 loved playing them just as much.
Tune in to We.Are.Canadian. with Stephanie every Thursday from 6pm-8pm
THE DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS + The Whigs @ Cabaret Juste Pour Rire
By Simon Howell - A Listening Ear - 03/20/2008
I love this city -- really, I do. But sometimes I can get a little fed up with our scene's superiority complex. It's as though some authorial voice proclaimed us the best scene in the world and then we started to believe it. As a result, we crank out bands like nobody's business, many of whom sound more or less interchangeable (or feature deeply incestuous line-ups). All the while we make sure to let the rest of the country know we're better than them. Well, there was no better cure for the Montreal scenester blues than a Drive-By Truckers show -- five people rocking the un-hippest sounds around with heart and effortless swagger.
Openers The Whigs demonstrated a classic case of how not to endear yourself to a Montreal audience: "this is our second time in Toronto!" they exclaimed, sincerely oblivious to their surroundings as the crowd jeered, expectedly (with that good old superiority complex out in force). Without having their recordings as a reference, their sound was something akin to Nirvana with a hint of Georgian twang and an organ, albeit with a less assertive vocal presence. What their sound and songs lacked in distinctiveness they tried gamely to make up for with sheer energy -- vocalist Parker Gispert hopped and flailed like a man possessed (but probably just drunk) and drummer Julian Dorio elevated the proceedings with Grohl-esque brute force.
The majority of the crowd, however, was obviously there for the ‘Truckers. They kicked off their first-ever Montreal show in their decade-long history with one of the strongest tunes from new record, Brighter Than Creation's Dark, Mike Cooley's "Self-Destructive Zones." The band started powerfully and only accumulated strength as the night tore on. This was the first show in ages that I'd seen wherein the relationship between band and crowd felt playful rather than strained; cell phones were giddily flipped to capture Cooley flaunting the smoking ban he surely didn't even know existed (while rocking a banjo, no less), while one onlooker shouted "we have better healthcare!" in response to their border troubles (they were unable to bring their merch along) not long after bandleader Patterson Hood's cocaine-and-chemo lament "Puttin' People on the Moon."
The incredible thing about watching the 'Truckers live is to witness just how many weapons are in their arsenal: they're a great country band, as evidenced by rich performances of "Check Out Time in Vegas" and newly contributing songwriter Shonna Tucker's "I'm Sorry Huston," aided by some lovely steel guitar work; their Skynyrdian three-guitar attack was taken full advantage of on "3 Dimes Down" and main-set closer "Let There Be Rock;" but perhaps most impressively, they retained their status as first-rate storytellers even in a live setting. Hood's preambles to "The Living Bubba" and "Eighteen Wheels of Love" shed light on his personal history as well as that of the Georgian rock scene with admirable candor. Hood's speeches also added emotional weight to the rest of the set, especially poignant rocker "The Righteous Path" and Iraq war nightmare "The Man I Shot." All the while, middle-aged men tried in vain to rock out while holding two beer cups at once. It was a glorious sight.
Earlier in the year, I witnessed a similarly long set put on by Kevin Drew and Broken Social Scene wherein the crowd had visibly thinned by the time the encore came around. Perhaps the clearest sign that I'd witnessed something special this time around was that by the time the 'Truckers had finished their 24-song set, the crowd not only stayed intact, but were still drunkenly clamoring for more until the house lights came up. Come back anytime, boys (and Shonna).
Tune in to A Listening Ear with Simon every Tuesday from 1pm - 2pm
JOSE GONZALEZ + Mia Doi Todd @ Cabaret Juste Pour Rire
By Kelly Pleau - 03/14/2008
Fueled by an unhealthy amount of chocolate and dark coffee, two girls weary of work deadlines and the soggy weather ventured down to St. Laurent and Ste. Catherine’s to be soothed by the finger-picking of José González. Having arrived halfway through his performance at Le National three months earlier, we were determined to have our wrists stamped early this time.
We arrived at the Cabaret to catch the L.A.-based gypsy-folk chanteuse Mia Doi Todd playing her last few songs. Todd's haunting voice permeated the modest concert hall as she delivered a solid performance of "In The End," a melancholic musing on detachment and indifference. Despite the beauty of her unique voice, her songs all shared a similarly weighed-down sound that failed to thrill me.
Not long after Todd's set, González stepped on stage and took a seat in front of a tightly packed crowd. It was only after a few songs that the audience became completely receptive to the Scandinavian singer-songwriter, when he grasped everyone's attention with the recognizable melody of "Heartbeats." The Knife cover set the night off to a swooping pace. González then seamlessly executed songs from both his latest release, In Our Nature, and Veneer, released in 2005.
González' songwriting is introspective and challenging. He treats the heavy subjects of contradictions, indulgences and frailties of human nature with a similar grace to that which he displayed on this particular Friday night. After suddenly stumbling backwards in his chair and falling to the ground with his guitar in hand, he responded with a light-hearted and reassuring, "Why not?" He then reminded us with a grin that the next song would be “serious.” "Deadweight on Velveteen" kicked off an encore that treated us to an additional five songs. Among his final numbers was the much-anticipated "Cycling Trivialities," a searing exploration that mesmerized the crowd for a good eight minutes. González finished the show with an upbeat yet characteristically moody cover of Bronski Beat's "Smalltown Boy."
Continually probing human frailty with every pluck of a chord, González often leaves his listener quite stunned. Still, endeared by his onstage tumble, we left knowing that with the right combination of caffeine, cover songs, and a recovered capo, even an evening of melancholy can perk one up sometimes.
JULLY BLACK @ Club Soda
By Ann Marie Williams - Gospel Unlimited - 03/15/2008
Jully Black and her band took over Club Soda on last Saturday. She commanded the stage the moment she stepped on it. Her performance was engaging and very enjoyable! She really connected with the audience, especially when she acknowledged what seemed to be an autistic young girl in the front row. The look of appreciation on the child’s mother’s face said it all. Yes, there were some children there -- it was a family show.
When Jully closed the show with “Seven Day Fool,” the entire audience was on their feet. Her live performance was just as good, if not better, that her recorded version. For the encore Jully and her traffic band performed two of Bob Marley’s classics, acknowledging her Jamaican heritage. Awesome!
Pick up a copy of her second CD, Revival, which was released in October 2007 -- it’s well worth it. She is nominated for The Juno Awards’ “Single of the Year” and “R& B Song of the Year.” Good luck Jully, and thanks for the autograph!
Tune in to Gospel Unlimited with Ann Marie every Saturday from 10am – 12pm
FLOGGING MOLLY + Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band @ Metropolis
By Josh Mocle - The Kids are So-So - 02/19/2008
Late last year, I promised myself that I wouldn’t ask to review shows featuring bands I’ve already reviewed given the fact that it’s rare that I’d have anything new to say about them. However it’s about time I come clean: the last time I reviewed a Flogging Molly show, I knew shit about Flogging Molly. Yeah, I obviously knew who they were and a few of their signature tracks but that’s about it and I pretty much managed to bullshit my way through a thousand words or so for the last one. However, this time around I was much more familiar with the band and had a much better time as a result. (Shocking, I know. More on this later.)
Dusty Rhodes and the River Band opened the show and I will outright admit that from a musical standpoint, I wasn’t terribly impressed. My tolerance for jam bands, while not as low as it used to be, isn’t very high and at times I found the band grating on my nerves. However, these guys had heart: they very clearly loved to be doing what they were doing and didn’t really care that the crowd wasn’t that into it (which, with the exception of my lovely and mysterious co-DJ, they largely were not). They blasted through around a half hour of jammy goodness with a bit of a more rock edge than say, Widespread Panic, and were off almost as quickly as they were on.
Following Dusty Rhodes was arguably the most surreal and amazing musical experience I have arguably ever had. I’m referring, of course, to Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. Now, coming from my own experience -- I’ve seen many many different bands perform on that same stage, but nothing could have really prepared me to see a drummer who may very well have been thirteen, a rather large woman named Washboard Breezy with a REAL WASHBOARD hanging off her and the man known only as The Rev (who looked as if he could shoot you in the face, with a shotgun, or give you a massive bear hug depending on his mood) take the stage. Stylistically it was pretty basic “blues with a slide guitar + basic drumming + washboard scratches” formula (which I suspect many in the crowd were not familiar with and if they were, certainly not used to), but this performance was very much not about the music itself, but the power of music in general. Never before has such a basic musical set-up been so powerful and, unfortunately, there isn’t much more I can say about it. It really was a “you had to be there” situation, and if you were you probably would have been just as moved as I was (both physically and spiritually).
Which brings us to Flogging Molly themselves; I mentioned earlier that the last time I saw them I wasn’t that familiar with their material and thus didn’t have as good of a time as I did now. The reason for this, I think, is pretty simple: Flogging Molly is the kind of band you really make your own. You either get it or you don’t and there really is no middle ground. From the looks of things, a lot of people in our fair city really get this band, given the packed (and incredibly smelly) house that sang along to almost every word. Their traditional Irish folk meets traditional American rock sound hasn’t changed at all, despite putting out a new record (that sounds, surprisingly, like all their old records). Their live performance hasn’t changed much either, despite being a decent amount older than most contemporary rock bands, they once again managed to stuff a ton of energy into their work (and appeared to have a great time while doing it as well). I’ve said it before and I’ll most likely say it again many more times, but when a band enjoys what they’re doing, that joy is infectious. For the first time in my life I became “that guy who is so into it that when the band lets the audience sing the lyrics he can be heard well over anyone else” (which is not something that’s easy to admit). As far as consistently entertaining bands both recorded and live, Flogging Molly are still ranked near the top and I would imagine that is where they’ll remain for many years to come.
Tune in to The Kids Are So-So with Josh every Tuesday from 2pm – 4pm
THE GUTTER TWINS + Great Northern @ Cabaret Juste Pour Rire
By Comma Chameleon - Semicolon Cancer; - 03/15/2008
I was very impressed with The Gutter Twins’ opening act, Great Northern on Saturday. The very melodic, keyboard-led arrangements and long, epic-ish set list tunes led me to wonder what they’d sound like on their album, priced reasonably at their merch table. My friend said they sounded like Metric, led by a female but who had a better voice, with much better tunes and cohesive arrangements. They were a thing to recommend. As far as opening acts go, surprisingly good.
A good 20 minutes/half an hour/eternity later, I saw Gutter Twins collaborator, Joseph Arthur step out on stage and a scruffy long-haired goon who I couldn’t see from my angle during the set but who I suspected was Queens of the Stone Age guitarist Troy van Leeuwen. I was wondering where those monster solos were coming from. Another five or ten minutes later, Greg Dulli and Mark Lanegan stepped out and launched right into their recently-released Gutter Twins debut opener, “The Stations,” one of my two favourite pieces off the album. I was hoping for old throwbacks from Dulli’s early ‘90s outfit The Afghan Whigs’ album, Gentlemen (highly recommended), as well as ancient Screaming Trees or Lanegan solo pieces from works like Field Songs or Whiskey for the Holy Ghost (both also highly recommended). For the non-album pieces, they played from Dulli’s Twilight Singers distraction, as well as a few Lanegan pieces from his powerful Bubblegum album, where Dulli took the role of PJ Harvey. Dulli is a dominant leader, and led his band strutting around, pointing, singing, playing guitar and shaking his head, dancing all the while, where Lanegan simply stood on the spot fellating the mic until he walked offstage.
There were some very nice surprises tucked in, one of which was a secret weapon Dulli had tucked away -- an almost ironic cover of Jose Gonzalez’s “Down the Line,” which I had seen Jose play at the same venue the night before...ironic because Jose does so many covers himself. I knew Dulli had played this live before but this was an incredible surprise, and very well performed. Some other wonders were far too short (they teased “Shadow of the Season” by Screaming Trees as well as “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” by Led Zeppelin, my favourite Zeppelin tune and the one I listened to earlier that day. Marvellous, but again, too short.
Dulli’s small-talk during the performance consisted of about five French words repeated throughout the set, and Lanegan’s not much of a talker on a good day. My hero, he said not a word, didn’t open his eyes once -- he threw up a peace sign and trundled off as soon as the last tune was over. I love that guy.
Tune in to Semicolon Cancer; with Comma Chameleon every Sunday from 9am - 10:30am
ACE FREHLEY @ Metropolis
By K-Man - 03/03/2008
O.K., here's the deal. I'm going to tell you a little story right off the bat to make the rest of this review make more sense. More than a few years ago, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss got together for a tour called "The Bad Boys of Kiss" and subsequently rolled on through Montreal....to the Metropolis. I bought a ticket without hesitation, as did two of my buddies that had been huge Kiss fans all of their lives too. Thick n’ thin, that's the way it goes.
Criss played a full set of the most mind-stabbingly bad tunes I've almost ever witnessed since his first solo album. The four hundred or so fans had pretty much dwindled down to about one-fifty by the time Ace hit the stage, with his apparently loosely thrown together band. The volume at which the show started at had, by the end of the first song, driven all but yours truly and his two buddies (Lud, and good ol’ Billy Danjubic respectively) running for the back of the club. We momentarily escaped the utter onslaught to our auditory systems (fully in red alert by this time and I have seen some L O U D-assed shows in my day, boy) to the men’s room and collectively used like four rolls of toilet paper between us to stuff our ears shut. Did I mention how butt-fugly their tour shirt was? Man, I'll never get that image outta my head but the goose bumps will fade in a sec...
We then sauntered back to the front of the stage. There’s only the three of us now -- nobody else around for a hundred square feet, and we're asked personally by Ace if he was loud enough, to which we responded, and I quote, "No Ace…turn it up!" At this point, he turned around to his already almost maxed out rig and turned the f**ker up. This is when, I would say, 90% of the club literally up and left. The band was that bad. Cocain is ugly after 30 years of abuse. There were like twelve people in the place including the bar staff by the time it was over. We rocked it hard and went home a little dead inside.
So, back to present times. Last night, March 3rd, 2008 at the Metropolis, more than ten years later, full circled, I get out of a cab and I'm wondering to myself: Is Ace going to burn out or fade away or what? The wonderful Miss Caroline had a juicy pass waiting for me at the guest booth (thanks Ant, you rock) and I walked in a little apprehensive of how this show might go down. I get a Heine and low and behold, there's Lud. Like old times -- all good. We get to our spot, and Ace hits the stage.
By the second note, I'm looking at Lud and there is an equal look of complete relief. Four notes later, it's a look of pure joy as this goddamned rock legend literally got his shit together, hand picked three other guys who f**king love his music and ripped the shit out of "Rip It Out." I always loved hearing two Les Pauls at once. It's something. They were bloody loud, but just under the annoying mark. From the same first solo album he then played "Snow Blind" and a cool little medley of "Torpedo Girl" (from Kiss’ Unmasked album) and from his classic solo album, the song "Speedin' Back To My Baby." I could have easily sat through a full version of the latter (the only disappointing thing that evening) -- I freakin' love that song.
I never liked his later solo albums; they were musically weak, but would you believe he revised a bunch of those tunes, and they were s o l i d -- "Rock Soldiers," "Trouble Walking" (a song that needs no explanation whatsoever), all spruced right the hell up. His solos were note for note and his tones…oh his tones were back like the old days."Shock Me" was sick. Shock you? Shock me! I've seen Kiss with Ace Frehley five times: three back in the day, and two during the Kiss comeback tour -- in what, like '96? He was on the money tonight. Did I mention how utterly speechless we were?
From the fourth side of Kiss Alive II, he wailed on "Rocket Ride," another ingenious little medley of some of his '90s tunes and "Love Gun." Very crafty and well arranged, this band was kickin' the shit out of the venue and everyone in it (about four hundred or so). He then pulled out one of his many customs and lit the stage and his guitar up(literally) for his N.Y.C. anthem, "Back in the New York Groove" and the place went a little nuts. The New York attitude was oozing out all over the place. Someone threw up a top hat during one of the songs and in true New Yorkese, he sayed "I know Slash purrsonally, I just can't fuckin' weh that thing."
Ace left the stage only to return with a full Kiss encore set. I felt like a kid in a freakin' candy store. The sweet, sweet sound of "Deuce" rang out like the anthem of an era. '74 New York sleeze 'n' roll. The drummer sang the Stanley parts and the bassist sang the Simmons parts to a tee -- it was eerie. Kiss was playin' Daisey's and The Coventry and other nasty Jersey/Queens/Amity clubs while downtown at Max's Kansas City, The Mercer Arts Center, the Dolls were lovin' over themselves struttin' around, waiting to crash the Kiss party after their show. Frehley along with, Thunders, Ivan Kral (Patti Smith group ), Lou Reed, and a few choice New York guitarists of that time really carved a sleezy, sultry, standoffish, (nihilistic) niche in one of their city's trademark sounds/styles.
When he kicked into "Love Her All I Can" from Kiss' second release Dressed To Kill, I freakin' couldn't believe I could remember all of the lyrics. I would have wept if I wasn't such a hard c**t. He ended it all with the awesome "Cold Gin," with a craftily placed outro to "Black Diamond." F**king classy all the way down the line. What can I say? I was absolutely as shocked as I was relieved.
That sick, filthy, raunchy, (sh)city honky-punk always fit neatly under my skin. I don't know what it is, but I just got a major fix of it and all I want to do is nod off with the songs swimming in my head...which brings the answer to my earlier question: will Ace burn out, fade away, or what? Well, it's or what, if “or what” means like a true legend, he will simply rock on.
Tune in to "Beyond That Graveyard! III" with K-Man every Friday from 9pm - 12am
LADYHAWK - Shots
By Simon Howell - The Listening Ear - 03/08/2008
Vancouver band Ladyhawk's self-titled debut was a bit of a revelation. Here, lo and behold, was an honest-to-goodness emotionally driven rock band with a chunky, early-‘90s indie-rock sound, that didn't sound at all contrived. Better yet, they had great songs to back up their chutzpah and passion. Shots finds them, like label mates Okkervil River, continuing to find solace and strength in sounds left behind by their hipper contemporaries.
Opener "I Don't Always Know What You're Saying" proves to be the most immediate thing on the album, with its insistent chug, broken-up title plea in the chorus, and the sense that the band knows just how to push a song's momentum to maximum effect. "Fear" might embarrass the truly hip with its heart-on-sleeve plea of "I just wanna feel something other than fear / I just wanna taste something other than tears," but then this is clearly not a band intended for hype by the noxiously self-conscious blogosphere. "(I'll Be Your) Ashtray," besides featuring the best use of parentheses in a song title so far this year, is reminiscent of the debut's "Advice" with its darkly cynical tone and herky-jerky rhythmic tics.
If there's a substantial difference between Ladyhawk and Shots, it lies in the band's newfound consistency of tone. Where the songs on the debut swerved from nostalgia to lust to righteous indignation like a hormonal teenager on a tear (sometimes literally, as on "Teenage Love Song"), Shots finds them settling into a unified emotional groove, lingering in the desperate emotional spaces many choose to avoid without using that pain as an excuse for empty wallowing. Instead, they seek either to elucidate it, as on "Fear," or to exorcize it, as on two-part, ten-minute closing jam "Ghost Blues" (featuring what might be the most obviously fist-pumping moment yet to reach home stereos this year when speaker-rattling screams cut through the mix around the six-minute mark). While Shots may not provide the surprise jolt its predecessor did, Ladyhawk remain one of Canada's most potent, emotionally engaging bands, even as their scope subtly widens.
Tune in to A Listening Ear with Simon every Tuesday from 1pm - 2pm
SIA + Har Mar Superstar @ Les Saints
By Abby E. Schachter - The Kids are So-So - 03/04/2008
I will admit that I was not in the greatest mood when I walked into Les Saints for the Sia concert. The crowd was restless after waiting forty-five minutes at the door. I, like many others, was tired, cold and frustrated by how late it was. My impatience was starting to get the best of me and I started to think that the fortune cookie at the end up my meal two hours earlier was going to be the highlight of the night. Luckily that was not the case. The latter half of the night made up for all the time inconveniences, overpriced drinks, lack of seats and forced coat check.
The opening band, Har Mar Superstar, was and is indefinable. The lead singer flung onstage and paraded around topless through the crowd of stunned listeners, all who seemed taken a back at this heavyset forty-something balding man. His voice was smooth and the band emulated a Jackson Five vibe -- he danced, pranced and slid across the stage, all the while never skipping a beat. The audience was in awe at the eccentricity of this overly hyper middle-aged crooner. People laughed when he took of his shirt and announced that he would be covering a Cheetah Girls song and clapped along to the up tempo rhythm.
By the time Sia finally came on, it was ten to eleven and the crowd was displeased, checking watches and cell phones verifying the hour. All of a sudden, cheers and cries of “Sia!” reverberated through the room; I looked onstage and saw a group of people, none who looked remotely like Sia. In fact, the individuals didn’t even look human. They were all dressed up in glow in the dark gingerbread man suits, but then the music started and everyone became quiet. Sia opened with the song “Buttons,” her latest release, and I was in awe of the power of her soulful voice. She kept the mask on throughout the entire first number but it didn’t matter because the song was flawless. Her record does not do her justice and neither do words. Never in my life have I heard a vocalist like Sia. I didn’t even know it was possible that a person could have that many octaves! The crowd was under her spell, moving to the beat and smiling in satisfaction.
This is one concert well worth the wait. Sia wowed everyone with not only her music, but her easygoing, fun nature as well. She humored the audience and interacted with us as though we were old friends, asking if everyone was okay and if oeuvre d’oeufs needed to be served. After every couple of songs, she’d break into anecdotal stories, like the one about her record label dropping her for becoming “too happy.” The Australian artist also played us some “music from the future,” a sneak peak into her newest album hitting stores next year. It was great and different and echoed diffused acid jazz on a pop note. Sia mostly sang songs promoting her latest album, Some People have Real Problems -- “Death by Chocolate,” “Playground,””Little Black Sandals,” and “The Girl you lost to Cocaine” are just a few to mention. I was very disappointed when the time came to go. I didn’t want to leave. Sia’s voice had this way of transporting the listeners to this distant place. She sang with and from her soul and felt every word, beat and note, swaying to the rhythm in a trance-like dance. The audience was hypnotized by this seemingly flighty character and the jazziness of her voice which carried through the venue, smooth and full of power.
If you get the chance to see Sia in concert, go! It is an experience and you will be in awe that someone can sing as amazingly as she does.
Overall here is what my night came to:
1 - Waiting in line for forty-five minutes: Sore feet, bad mood and minor frostbite.
2 - Getting carded at the door: Bad Prom flashback.
3 - Forced coat check: 2$ too much.
4 - Small glass of coke-cola with half a slice of lemon: 4$ plus 2$ tip (overpriced, obviously).
5- Sia in concert: Priceless.
Tune in to The Kids Are So-So with Abby every Tuesday from 2pm - 4pm
THRICE + Say Anything + Attack In Black @ Metropolis
By Josh Mocle - The Kids are So-So - 02/16/2008
It’s kinda funny. A couple weeks ago, I was the young kid at the Sick of It All show, not fully getting it, and now I was the old fart at the Thrice show that possibly got it too much. While the band received a modicum of success between 2003 and 2006 as part of the second to last wave of emo and post-hardcore bands to receive the notice of major labels after cracking their teeth in the underground for most of the late ‘90s/early ‘00s, their mainstream popularity has been waning in the past two years. This caused a change in the audience of a standard Thrice show more than I could have imagined. This being the fifth time I’ve seen the band, I can (happily) declare that many from the trendy hair swoosh and tight pants society have found their way to other endeavors (although a few still remain) and the ones left behind are, well, largely people like me (and by that I mean the ones who listened to the band before they were on MTV and who actually stuck around when *gasp* they decided to stop playing the same screamo songs over and over again and actually began to make interesting music).
Toronto’s Attack In Black opened the show and while there were only a handful of people there to watch them, those who were there were treated to a set by arguably one of the most talented Canadian bands out there right now. Mark my words, these guys are gonna be BIG very soon. While I admit, I was only somewhat familiar with their folk-tinged indie rock (with a punk edge) beforehand, their set came off as reminiscent of MeWithoutYou at their very best (which is funny since their new record comes off as Sunny Day Real Estate at their very best). It’s a shame these guys only got to play for a half hour, especially given what came next…
Let me make something very clear: while I haven’t listened to them for a few years, I was willing to give Say Anything the benefit of the doubt since for a good span of time, they were arguably one of my absolute favourite bands (hey, we all make mistakes right?). Regardless, while I wasn’t looking forward to the performance by any means, I wasn’t condemning it beforehand either (especially given the fact that I had somehow never seen them live). Turns out I might as well have because from the moment the band took the stage, it was apparent that they didn’t give a shit. If The Ataris or New Found Glory never existed, Say Anything’s run-of-the-mill pop-punk might be considered original, and even I will admit that lack of originality can be surpassed by decent showmanship, but these guys had neither. Singer Max Bemis strutted around stage like a younger (but just as pompous) Steven Tyler while the other five band members (that’s right, three guitarists, two of which could probably have been cut out) pretty much stood there, barely moving three inches in any direction. To top it all off, they only played for around twenty-five minutes (roughly half the time they were allotted) before leaving the stage rather abruptly. I think an important case study can be made by watching the career of this band over the next few years: given that they just broke into the mainstream after being underground darlings for many years, they can afford to play shitty shows since, fuck, they’re getting paid anyway. Let’s see how things are in a few years when they get dropped from whatever major signed them and they actually have to rely on their talent to survive -- and don’t get me wrong, there is some talent there (mostly on the part of Bemis), but I’d say it isn’t coming close to being realized right now.
Which brings me to Thrice themselves. There really isn’t much I can say about this band that I haven’t already: they’re still tight as all hell, their musical output continues on its journey into the indefinable (which is a very, very good thing) and they still seem to be genuinely having fun creating music (which definitely translates well to their live performance). Most of their set was taken from their newest record, The Alchemy Index Volume’s 1&2: Fire and Water, which in and of itself marks a few firsts for the band. It is their first record while back on an independent label after their brief flirtation with Island/Def Jam (Vagrant picked them up shortly after they were dropped) and it’s also the first record they’ve released that was written, recorded and produced entirely by themselves. That having been said, there was a clear distinction between the songs they played off this record (as well the few songs from the next record, The Alchemy Index Volume 3&4 and their last record, Vheissu) and the ones they played off their older records: they enjoyed playing the new stuff much more. When a band truly enjoys what they are doing it shows, and the effort and dedication they showed to songs like “The Whaler,” “Burn the Fleet” and this reporter’s personal favourite, “For Miles,” just wasn’t there during older tunes like “The Artist in the Ambulance” and fan favourite, “Deadbolt.” Almost as if they were just playing them because they felt they had to in order to appease the traditionalists in the audience (and indeed, even after they played it there were those in the audience who kept chanting “play ‘Deadbolt’ again!”), not because they wanted to. Don’t get me wrong, I love “Deadbolt” as much as the next guy, but if they hadn’t played it I wouldn’t have been disappointed.
In my last review, I spoke a lot about longevity and the capacity for a person to relate to a band and the various factors that can influence that and -- if I may be so bold -- I dare say Thrice have the potential to be around for many years to come; however, people who are just getting into this music now will probably not be able to relate to them like I could (and, to be honest, if universally relatable music exists at all it is few and far between and certainly does not reside within the rock scene), but that may just be my cynical stripes showing.
Josh Mocle is a self-hating third gen. emo kid (but he’s had an emoectomy, so it’s cool). He thinks you should listen to whatever he’s calling his show at the time this is published on Tuesdays from 2 to 4 in the PM because it’s what JFK would have done.
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