Shout out out out out and the Casecos at La Sala Rossa

Free tickets? I am never one to say no to free tickets! And where exactly did these free tickets lead me? To see two CBC favorite bands from the indie scene. There was a third band, but I managed to skip out on them because I had to talk to my +1 guest. I might have kept on talking to my +1 guest and missed Shout out out out out if he hadn't bothered to point out that the main act might be starting. Some conversations are completely engrossing.

Anyway, let's start with the Casecos. Toronto based band, from what I understand. As the openers, they played to a mostly shy crowd dispersed at the edges of the room. People were head shaking and shifting in place to their groovy disco beats, but no one was brave enough to dance until the last song. Which is a shame, because they were a fine act. The band seemed slightly disappointed by this fact -- I suppose they don't know the whimsical nature of Montrealers, nor might they know that during exam week at the Universities, the usual audience is library bound. I can't say too much about them, in part because I've only ever heard them from one song played on CBC's music podcast about a year ago (???), so this was my first foray into their live act.

As mentioned, I didn't even catch the smalltown DJs. Too bad.

But, Shout out out out out (I'll just refer to them as SOOOO), was in fine style. This electronic act is in the vein of LCD soundsystem and Mouse on Mars... highly electronic. Though, they add my favorite component... a live drummer. Make that two live drummers! Yehaw! If only I did acid or heroin, the experience would be straight out of the rave scene of the 80s. Fortunately, that absentee audience appeared and was ready to boogie down to the electronic aural feast. With Korgs a flying (can Korgs fly?), they got me moving and the whole room shaking down, big and small alike. This is a big act that far exceeds anything pre-recorded on a CD. They have to be seen live to be appreciated, and I dare say that their old jams and new jams are lovable booty shakers alike.

Sadies and Bloodshot Bill at Sala Rossa

The Sadies are a band that changed my life.

Many years ago, while collecting boxes for packing from Kinkos for my upcoming move to New Brunswick, I overheard a girl on the phone telling her friend that she "had sex with the singer from the Sadies" and "he was in her bed now." I'd seen the Sadies several times in Toronto at that point and I had friends who swooned over Dallas Good and practically pinned me to a table at the Horseshoe when I said I'd introduce them to him (not that I knew him, but I was drunk and life was good so why not...). Keep in mind that there are two singers in the Sadies and seriously, the girl could have been BSing. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is this: upon overhearing this important phonecall, I turned around, expecting to see some kind of supermodel. In my mind, only the hottest of the hot hooked up with people in bands. Instead, I saw a girl who couldn't have been taller than me (I'm short), who looked a little unkempt but kind of cool at the same time, and just... well... regular... like me. My entire worldview shifted. I realized that I could change my life at that moment and I was going to become the kind of person who could hook up with the boys in the band (not the Sadies, of course, but any band). Perhaps not a lofty high minded goal, but a goal that fit my mental state at the time, which was... very, very, very low following a very, very, very sad separation from my husband. It was the first goal I had in a very long time and for that reason, monumental.

And so, my life changed. I went to New Brunswick and did things I never thought I would do. I extended myself. I became friendly with bands and artists, had a radio show (which this very blog is named for), and found my way back to true self.

For this, I thank the Sadies.

The reason for this lengthy, and quite personal, preamble is this. A Sadies show is a religious experience for me. I get to worship at the temple of music. The Sadies can do no wrong in my eyes. So, all I can do is gush. The audience was electric. The dancing was aces up. The Sadies play long, kick ass sets and never seem to miss a favorite. They even threw in a few by the Unintended. What else can I say? These guys are the cat's ass and every time I see them, the magic of possibility is renewed. 30 songs of main set, 10 in an encore, and then three more in a second encore. Greg Keillor (I was asked by the boy next to me who he was. It made me want to cry. I am that old that people who dance around me no longer know Greg Keillor) played a few. Now, with smashed toes, sore muscles, and sweat on very part of my body, I think I can say, this was (as expected) an excellent show.

A few words about Bloodshot Bill... I love that guy. He's so... weird. He'll never get mistaken for a Canadian Idol contestant with his yodels, moans, shrieks, and piercing holler. But, he's got so much heart that I swear he's got some piece of the Elvis spirit in his pocket. He warmed things up nicely at the start of the set, with a one man performance with energy that could only be matched by a Freshman on his fourth Redbull.

Warhol Live Music and Dance in Andy Warhol’s Work at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts

I remember Andy Warhol’s white hair first and foremost. He had a show in 1986 on MTV back when cable was young and MTV played music. It’s too bad that my sense of history was so brief since I could not appreciate the long relationship Warhol had with music. It is no surprise that towards the end of his life, he got involved with music’s latest incarnation: the music video. And, as the song goes, video killed the radio star. Well, not exactly, but Warhol managed to keep up with every shift in music’s sharp edge through his entire life.

The MFA exhibition examines the relationship between Warhol and music, starting with his earliest love of movie musicals with Shirley Temple and opera, progressing through his Stuido 54 days (to quote Warhol, “It was a dictatorship at the door, a democracy on the floor.”) While most people know Warhol produced the Velvet Underground, which practiced in his studio, I was surprised to learn that Warhol was even part of a band, in which Jasper Johns sang lead.

The 640 works on view for this exhibit include some Warhol pieces that don’t relate to music – but these are far and few between. On the whole, Warhol’s record covers, Interview magazine, and portraits of singers and musicians dominate. The major pieces, Elvis, Marilyn, Liza Minnelli, Grace Jones, Mick Jagger, and Debbie Harry are well known and presented in a way that they seem part of Warhol’s interest of the moment. Interestingly enough, his record covers are as symbolic of his greatest desire – to mass produce art – and in some ways are even more representative than what one thinks of as Warhol’s emblematic pieces.

The exhibit draws on the collection of one of the four Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh, the Andy Warhol Museum, which supplements the holdings of the MMFA and private collectors. On the whole, the amount of material is simply overwhelming. Warhol touched every single medium imaginable, from screen printing to video to cinematic shorts to sketches and it seems he was interested in every single variant of music as well: dance, opera (he was an opera fiend), disco, rock, vocalists, punk, and experimental.

http://www.mmfa.qc.ca/micro_sites/warhol/expo_en.html

Punkz not dead! It just dilutes: Vancougar, Chocolat, Jay Reatard at the Cabaret

I'll start with Vancougar, since these ladies played first to those who dared come early enough to see the opening act. These four talented ladies put the Ps in Pop and Punk, which is the best way. I don't mean Dead Kennedys punk. Think 80's punk-pop sort of new wave and that's exactly their sound. They were a solid four-piece, standard bass-guitar-keys-drums, with some sweet harmonies, and catchy tunes. A group of women musicians always risk being a little on the saccharine side with too much technique and not enough bone chewin'. Their cute name (I rather like it, but these are not cougars by any stretch of the imagination) and matching "rocker" suits didn't do much to give them depth. I was worried that these girls had no chops, but about halfway through their set, they seemed to grind and rock out a little more. Montreal can be a tough town, though, and Vancouver is a long way away. Every song was well done, and the dynamic between them is enjoyable to watch. I liken them to the GoGos, back when the GoGos were cool.



Next up was Montreal's much beloved Jimmy Hunt in one of his newer incarnations: Chocolat. Jimi Hunt has been around the scene for a long time, a champion of that mod-electro 60's style that gets the kids dancing here. This band brings together members of Hunt's band the Demon's Claws with some members of the CPC Gangbangs. WIth fuzz, reverb, and a certain amount of psychedellia (I don't think they pull it off quite as well as the artists of the 60s, but drugs these days aren't what the drugs of yesterday were), they put on a ballsy show. And the audience? The audience practically threw themselves on the stage in adoration. Hunt crooned, wailed, caterwalled, and folked while the rest of the piece band provided effective backup as well as outstanding solos by second guitarist Dale MacDonald who even flung himself at the feet of Hunt in a rock spin of solo madness. Make no mistake, if Vancougar worked the black denim Canadian leisure suit, Chocolat worked the bargain bin at the Salvation Army. Obviously, the Montreal one, since tight pants ruled the day. Hunt is iconic, emblematic: a scarecrow come to life, with his checkered plaid shirt, fedora, and harmonica strap. The Dylan comparisons are more than appropriate.

Finally, hair rockers Jay Reatard. Reatard harkens back to the 80s and 90s, when men wore tiger print spandex and eyeliner and played guitars that were shaped like lightning bolts (in this case, a flying V). Reatard, fortunately, forewent the spandex, but the sound was unmistakable. If only he'd brought the fog machine and a better light show. This is hair metal. That glam rock meets hard rock sort of thing. It isn't hard to imagine these three dudes sitting in their basement, taking bong hits, and head banging along with Motley Crue, ACDC, and um... Meatloaf? Loud, crunchy, riffy, power-chordy. Which is not to say un-talented -- this is real music, but it isn't serious. Songs clock in under 2 minutes apiece and the entire set might have been a half hour long. Who cares? It's awesome! Reatard is fun. Big fun. Indie rock kind of fun. Indie rock? You read that right. Seems that as the music of my youth becomes retro to today's 20-somethings, the genre switches. What once would have been metal has become the mainstay of today's fans of the alt independent scene. Not that I'm complaining. I liked some of those MTV bands and know all the words to the Final Countdown.

Land of Talk at La Sala Rossa

It’s been far too long since I’ve made it out to a show and huzzah for the one I pick to restart the September season of Dreadlocks. Friday night found me at the D’Urbervilles and Land of Talk show at the improved(???) Sala Rossa. I’d never noticed the sound panels on the ceiling before. Are they relatively new? No matter. They are there and the acoustics sounded better in Sala than I remember in a long time.

I’d not seen or heard of d’Urbervilles before, but I’m glad I’m now in the know. This band of 20 somethings burns up edgy energy and the dance-ability simultaneously. In their set, they tore through song after song, with a few modest remarks by lead singer John O’Regan that we could buy their album or any of the other excellent albums for sale by other bands. While the spazzy dance moves, complete with fist pumping action, and some retro bass are memorable, that hardly characterizes the performance. This is solid Canadian indie music, a la the Constantines, with a mélange of subtle influences from across the garage rock genre in other songs. Good things will come from these guys, so keep an eye out.




Land of Talk delivered a riveting show that picked up momentum as it went along, Elizabeth Powell is one of my favorite performers in Canada. Her dreamy, smoky vocals go perfectly over her academic guitar playing. At the same time, she can cut deep through the skin and pull out rich, emotional feelings, transforming what seems almost too precise into a warm frenzy of creativity. She is a force.

The performance, as mentioned, started a bit subdued. Well, the first song was subdued. Powell, for one thing, was on crutches. She remained seated (from my vantage, behind tall viewers) the entire show, which perhaps stopped her from the physicality that often accompanies her playing. But, she seemed to give herself over to the jubilant and appreciative mood and soon it was the chapel of the Land of Talk. Every song was a peony coming into bloom and flashing its magnificence.
I did note that this is the third, perhaps fourth, drummer I’ve seen play with this band. Years ago, Powell picked up a Montreal friend (Bucky) to fill in on drums at the Parc D’Amerique show. I’d seen others play with her since. Tonight was Lowell Campbell of Wintersleep filling in with his talents. I describe Mr. Campbell as the best drummer in Canada, so… lucky Powell for snagging him for this show.

Montreal Music Week of March 27

March is all in like a lion, out like a lamb. I think for the music scene, its just the opposite. March starts off sleepy and then roars to life as people start dropping in on our fair city from places afar and near.

I suppose I should begin with a plug for a friend – only once I say that, there’s an assumption that I’m simply praising the band because of our friendship. That’s a bad assumption. This is a crazy, mad, insane, guitar smashing band and the spectacle created will be take second fiddle to the wild music. Devil Eyes will be playing at the Black Dot with Swamp Sex Robots and Soki Soki at the Wrong Wave festival tonight. HELL YEAH! Okay, so if you’re into something a little more mellow, well, Luc Doucet and Angela Desveaux are at Sala Rossa. Rob Lutes and Scott MacLeod are at the Centre St. Ambroise. And, I suppose this definitely merits a nod – Crystal Castles and Heath are at the Juste Pour Rire theatre. Crystal Castles is sort of like thinned out disco electronica, so expect a dance party.

Friday, March 28, is like the day of funk and swing. At La Tulipe, the best swingy jazzy dance party, C’est Extra is totally and completely free (seriously?) I’ve been to C’est Extra and its fun – also weird – but fun. But, the nu-funk is at the Jello Bar with God Made Me Funky on their CD Release tour. The Montreal funk is at the House of Reggae with one of my favourite local rasta bands, Inword. So if funk and dance aren’t your thing, well, Die Die Die is at Zoobizzare. I have no idea what that is, but I don’t suspect that dancing is part of it.

On March 30, there’s something kind of cool to do at OFF Interarts. Get ready to suck sugar at Indyish.com’s Sugar Shack Mess featuring a host of cool folks performing. Lil’ Andy, Brie Neilson, Bad Uncle, No Barbers Required and Deep River Decoy.

Finally, on April 2, I’ll just name a few of the fun things going down: Kathleen Edwards, Justine Rutledge at the Juste Pour Rire. Mahogany Frog and Wax Mannequin at the Casa del Popolo. Pas Chic Chic at the Lion d'or. And last but not least, Wolf Eyes and Ghost Limbs Divan Orange

Montreal Music Week of March 21, 2008

Ah, I thought this week was going to suck. I was proven so wrong. Seems like our local booking agents are bringing in stuff well worth hauling one's butt out to see. There was no particular theme, and the good stuff seems to fall in all genres. Starting with today, Friday, the 21. There is, believe it or not, a Festival of the Accordian, taking place at the Tehatre de la Ville. I mean, how cool is that? An accordian festival? Alright, if that sounds like something your grandfather or weird cousin would like better than you, People for Audio and the Unsettlers are at the Bread Factory. I think this must be a new venue, as I've never heard of it before.

Saturday is a matter of being pulled in many directions at once. First off, Cuff the Duke, Montreal's oh-so-cool United Steel Workers of Montreal, and Vincent are the Juste Pour Rire (Cabaret du Musee). That's a great line up. But wait, the heaviest of the heavies, metals own IRON GIANT and electik bones are at Les Katacombes. I used to hang out with the guys from Iron Giant and I swear they get as naked as often as possible. Alright, indie hipsters will no doubt be at Les Saints to see The Raveonettes. Finally, MSTRKRFT will be fulfilling the dreams of all electronica folk at the Metropolis. Man, Saturday is just overwhelming.

And then, the crowning glory of all, one of my absolute favourite artists is performing: Caribou. This PhD transplant from Canada to England and who knows where he lives now has blown me away with his CDs and with his live performances that make me cry with joy. That's taking place at La Tulipe. Oh, I'm so glad I'm off Monday.

Now usually Monday is the end of all things interesting, but this week, Monday continues to sizzle with BC's Wassabi Collective, noted stars of the Evolve Festival out east in some little town in Nova Scotia. These guys don't come through often, so don't miss them at Divan Orange.

Tuesday brings old timers LIfehouse (zzz) at Club Soda and more interestingly, Kalumnity at Sablo Kafe.

Wednesday. WHOA. Back to too many choices. First off, there's some Bach fugue thing going on with the OSM. I completely am enamoured of the OSM and think Kent Nagano is very sexy to boot. But that is beside the point. Bach's fugues? Is that like manna from heaven or what? Alright, alright, maybe it's all sold out or something. OK Giraffe (a duo I believe I've mentioned here before) along with Millie Croche and Cahrlotte Cornfield are at rickety little shack Cafe Chaos. And, ah, the icing of the week, Why? -- Ohio's own weirdest, nerdiest, and coolest export that combines confessional and dark lyrics with sparse electronic melodies. Why? is playing with Cryptacize and SisterSuvi at Sala Rossa.

It's a good week, hey?