vintage

I assure you, you are not hallucinating.

Well, ladies and gentlefolk, it’s certainly been a while. I could make up tales of all of the fabulous things I’ve been doing while away from here, but you’ll surely have noticed that the period of my absence roughly coincides with that period of time commonly known as a “Semester”. I’ll let you dream up your own yarns of bloodshed and last-minute papers as you like.

I also haven’t really done any end-of-year lists, which is Total Blasphemy in the world of blogging (especially music-related) but them’s the breaks, I guess. I’ll have the lite versions around in the next little while in case any of you still feel like reading them after the barrage of lists that was this past December.

While we’re here, I might as well tell you what I’ve been up to.

What I’ve Been Up To

I’ll be honest: most of this category, at least most of what isn’t directly school-related, consists of reading Thomas Pynchon. For those unacquainted with his work, he’s fairly notorious for his dense and difficult-to-read prose, and for being a serious recluse (the first time anybody who wasn’t in his inner circle heard his voice was, bizarrely, on an episode of The Simpsons; in marvelous Simpsons fashion, he is depicted wearing a bag over his head. Check out that Long Island accent!). And particularly for frustrating English majors everywhere with postmodernist yarns like V. and Gravity’s Rainbow, the latter usually prompting people to throw the book across the room. Many of my friends have done that very thing.

Anyway, I naively started reading Against the Day as my introduction to Pynchon, which was a severely misinformed decision. It’s over 1000 pages (the Vintage UK edition, which I have, is just over 1200) and is just chock-full of things. Characters. Plotlines. Time periods. References to older novels (which I didn’t, at the time, get). I read the first 200 pages, read them again, and then read them a third time. I nearly pitched it out of the window.

The problem with Pynchon, for a first-time reader — and later, the glory of him — is that he systematically destroys any kind of expectation you might have for reading a novel. Nothing is linear. Characters don’t get fleshed out the conventional way. Endings are not endings. Narratives don’t move the way you want them to. Novel readers are conservative in that we expect conflict, resolution, characters, conclusion; Pynchon reminds us that we’re not going to get that.

1000 pages of in-your-face post-structuralism is not, however, the way to start learning that lesson. So I stopped.

Instead, I picked up the shortest of his novels — The Crying of Lot 49. Most hardcore Pynchon fans look down their noses at this one, because it’s not as involved as his other works; it does, however, contain all the things that characterize it as Pynchon, and it’s one hell of a novel. It moves a bit more conventionally than I had expected, which makes it a much better introduction (and, I’ll admit, the last chapter — particularly the final sentence — made me yell, out loud, and almost throw the book at the wall anyway in a mixture of frustration and glee). We are given tantalizing hints as to what Lot 49 might be, exactly, and they are all typically Pynchonian red herrings; we’re not told until the final three or four pages. And then, of course, the names. The names! Oedipa Maas, Pierce Inverarity, Mike Fallopian (really). The crowning glory is probably Genghis Cohen. It only gets better from here on out.

I can’t say I’m great at literary criticism, but I know enough to say this: Pynchon is brilliant. I still don’t really understand him, but that’s part of the appeal: everything isn’t immediately obvious, which means you actually feel compelled to re-read. And get the companion readers (J. Kerry Grant, thank you for helping me navigate V.). And read all the essays. And and and.

One thing’s for sure: if you decide to embark on a quest to read one of these novels, don’t rush it. Buy a copy — you’ll be renewing it at the library an infuriating number of times — and read as slowly as possible. I’ve finally learned that lesson and I’ll probably be reading V. for another month, but it’ll be a glorious one. His prose is sometimes dense enough to chew on, and it’s all worth it.

I think, though, that it will soon be time for some lighter reading. At least a novel that doesn’t require a book of annotations and a character notebook alongside it. I’m longing for simpler times.

Because I like doing ridiculous things with absolutely no point to them (except maybe self-torture, by the end), I’ve taken a dare from my roommate to listen to the Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense once a day until I can’t do it anymore. It’s been four days so far. With most other albums I’d already be sick of the whole adventure, but this one’s holding up spectacularly. It helps that it’s only 9 songs long* and one of the best live recordings ever.

Continuing on that theme, here’s the video of “Life During Wartime” from Stop Making Sense. David Byrne is one of the most awesome people on this planet.

* I’m listening to the LP version, which is five songs on one side and four on the other. There’s a few different releases, and one of the CD versions has sixteen songs on it .. but I’m just sticking with the recording I had on when this whole thing started.

I have moved again. I am now living in a house with an actual internet connection. I don’t want to jinx it, but maybe now I can ACTUALLY POST, seeing as the WordPress dashboard loads when I open it. Amazing. It’s the little things.

Anyway, too much has come and gone for me to recap most of it, but I do want to briefly mention the Elvis Costello show at Massey Hall last week. Three words: a, ma, zing. I was thoroughly impressed with his latest incarnation, which is pretty solidly country/bluegrass. His backing band, the Sugarcanes, features formidable talents like Jim Lauderdale and Jerry Douglas — and all of that that ended up meaning two and a half hours (!) of total glee on my part. Yeah, I’m easy to please: a little twang and we’re off to the races. Seriously, though, it was one of the best things I’ve seen all year.

He reworked a lot of old classics like “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes” and “Mystery Dance” to be bluegrassier, and the new stuff fit in perfectly; a few unexpected covers came our way too, like “Friend of the Devil” and (thrillingly) “Not Fade Away”. I would have seen that show three times in a row at least — he’s an amazing live performer and obviously is having the time of his life on stage. There’s a very good reason why Costello hasn’t yet faded away himself.

I was going to continue this post with a nice long list of Stuff I’ve Learned As An Usher, but my actual Massey-versary is coming up in two weeks or something, so I’ll save it for then. I’d like to instead comment on the broken air conditioner at my other place of work: Starbucks. It breaks A LOT — it’s been down three times this summer. Still, everyone comes in and brilliantly asks the same question: “Aren’t you guys hot?” No. It’s 33 degrees Celsius in here, I’m standing in front of an OVEN, and I’m making you hot coffee. I’m feeling great. Bring me some tea. Seriously?

Every other exchange goes like this.

Customer: Holy cow, it’s hot in here. Why is it so hot in here?
Barista: Yeah, I’m really sorry — our air conditioner’s broken down.
Customer: Jeez. Shouldn’t you keep the doors open or something? It’s so hot.
Barista: We’ve tried that. We had a serious wasp problem, so we had to close them.
Customer: I’d rather that than be this hot! No one’s going to want to come in!

(Then leave!) Etc, etc, etc. I’ve been yelled at — because it’s clearly my fault the thing is broken and it’s 92 Fahrenheit inside — and chastised and informed, a thousand times over, that it’s really hot in here, haven’t you noticed? Can’t you see that people are uncomfortable? I just want to pick people up and place them in front of the oven, where we stand when we speak to them, and then see how the conversation progresses. I’m sure it would at least end a lot faster.

My favourite so far (“favourite”) is the customer who yelled that the heat was “retarded” — their words, not mine — and continued on in frustration to say they weren’t coming back until it was fixed for good. Well, we thought it was fixed for good last time, and the time before that, too … whatever.

It’ll be a relief when it gets fixed just so we don’t have to have this conversation with every single person who walks through the door, really. And so I don’t sweat through my shirt three times a day, but you win some, you lose some.

Oh yeah, and the new Massey Hall season is out. Go here to see what it is! You can also browse the calendar for Roy Thomson Hall (including the full Toronto Symphony Orchestra season) and the Glenn Gould Studio on the aforementioned link, as well as some dates at the RCM’s new Koerner Hall. Extra exciting. Massey highlights for the rest of 2009 include:

Ornette Coleman — September 24
Van Morrison — September 30 & October 2
Wilco — October 14 & 15
Metric — October 20 & 21
Frankie Valli (!) — November 6
Lyle Lovett & His Large Band — November 13
Downchild Blues Band ft. Dan Aykroyd — November 14
Gordon Lightfoot — November 18 through 21

And so much other stuff. Hope to see some of you there.
More fun things on the way! Hello Internet, I have missed you.

Musical legend Les Paul has died at the age of 94, leaving behind a fantastic legacy of invention. Electric guitars and multi-track recording can both be traced back to his experimenting, and the former led to the classic Gibson Les Paul guitar. It’s probably fair to say that music will be indebted to him forever.

According to Gibson, the cause of death was complications from pneumonia. Read the full story here.

Rest in peace, Mr Paul.

Wordpress update! My dashboard is all fancy! I keep hitting the wrong buttons and messing things up — it’s fun.

Okay, here’s the rest of the good stuff from the Calgary Folk Music Festival, and some little treats for you too.

Best musical discoveries:

Luluc (Australia)
I bought their album on the strength of the first song I heard them play — not a bad first impression! Luluc are a beautifully folky duo with wispy harmonies and a really understated sound; their stage banter at the festival was adorable, slightly self-conscious, and full of that fabulous Aussie accent. Their album, Dear Hamlyn, is very sparse and true to their live sound, and I can’t think of a better piece of it to offer you than the song that first grabbed my attention: One Day Soon

Good Lovelies (Canada)
A more enthusiastic trio of ladies there never was, and the Good Lovelies clearly love performing and being on stage. The three women continue the tradition laid out by the Boswell and Andrews Sisters, harmonizing like you’ve never heard and adding sly winks all over the place; they make it seem like their job is the easiest thing in the world. If you don’t crack a smile within the first thirty seconds of a Good Lovelies concert, you’re probably not listening. Check out their version of the classic folk tune Clementine.

Bellowhead (United Kingdom)
The name “Bellowhead” must be synonymous with the word “party”, given their performances at this year’s festival. I guess I will talk more about them in the next list (sorry for the overlap, but I really couldn’t leave them out!) — but for now I will simply say that nobody has made English folk songs sound quite so appealing as this sprawling 11-piece band has. Just a word of warning, though: their studio albums sound terrific, but they don’t even begin to hint at the energy the band has live. Videos come closer: check out this one of London Town at the Royal Albert Hall.

The Deep Dark Woods (Canada)
I’ve been hearing this name thrown around for ages, and I wish I had been curious enough to check them out earlier. Saskatchewan’s Deep Dark Woods deliver a brand of country/folk that fits their name perfectly: slightly dark and brooding, but also a little gritty. I can’t think of proper adjectives that fit the “woods” part. Pine-scented? Anyway, they really feel like country done the way country should be — there’s a whole post there! Have a listen to All The Money I Had Is Gone (too topical? Sorry).

And of course, no folk festival list would be complete without a rundown of the best mainstage performances of the festival, so without further ado …

The Decemberists
They came out on stage without even an introduction and immediately played their entire new album, The Hazards of Love, with barely a stop. It was dramatic, swashbuckling, theatrical, and absolutely incredible. AND THEN they came out to do a soaring encore of the one song I had been crossing my fingers all night to hear — “Sons and Daughters,” the final track from The Crane Wife — and coaxed the entire audience of 12,000 to sing the chorus with them, until it pulsed in our chests all the way home. There’s not much more I could have asked for.

Mavis Staples
Even though her set list was pretty much the same as when she played Massey Hall, it was no less impressive. I am still flabbergasted that she is seventy years old — she can still outperform nearly anybody. Her version of “The Weight” is still one of the best covers ever, and “Wade in the Water” was delectable when complemented by her backup vocalists. The cherry on top of the whole affair was the last song, the Staple Singers’ famous “I’ll Take You There” — even though it was still the afternoon, people were up, dancing, and singing along like an old style revival. Now that’s a show.

Glen Campbell
Yeah, the Rhinestone Cowboy. That guy. I was shocked when I saw his name on the folk festival lineup, but let’s face it, the prospect of hearing him play “Wichita Lineman” was enough for me to miss the entire Akron/Family set over at the Twilight stage. And wow, was it worth it: Campbell clearly loves performing, and he’s quite obviously grateful to his audience for letting him go on doing it for so long. We were rewarded with the expected hits (“Galveston,” “By the Time I Get to Phoenix,” and the aforementioned “Wichita Lineman,” as well as a singalong finale of “Rhinestone Cowboy”), but we also heard some of the covers he did on his latest, including Tom Petty’s “Walls” and U2’s “All I Want Is You”. I have to say that a personal highlight was the blistering rendition of Rossini’s overture to William Tell — Campbell’s guitar work was blistering, and rightly so, for he was once one of the best session guitarists in the world. Live and learn. I’d go see him again in a flash.

Bellowhead
I’ve probably already said enough about these guys, but here I go again. First of all, there’s eleven of them. Second of all, their instruments range from fiddle and guitar to Sousaphone, oboe and accordion. Third, many of them are acclaimed, even award-winning, step dancers. And fourth, they play almost exclusively English folk songs (albeit with the odd disco beat). When you put all of this together and throw them on stage on a Saturday evening, you get what was undoubtedly the biggest party of the weekend. They could have played for three hours and nobody would have complained, except for potential exhaustion — it’s not often you get 12,000 people trying to imitate dancing like that. Maybe that’s a good thing, but I’ll take it!

Gomez
My dad confessed that he was expecting a Latin American band, judging by the name. This is the first clue that Gomez aren’t entirely what you expect them to be. They’re a bunch of white dudes from England, first of all — not quite what their moniker might suggest — and they fuse a surprisingly folky element into their songs, which are the perfect soundtrack for summer. They have a lot of pop sensibilities and some of the usual indie rock sounds, but they also just want to have a really good time on stage, and that translates into a fabulous time for the audience too. The general sentiment around was that we’d all have been singing along to every song if we’d just known the words. Next time they’ll have a few thousand more people to prompt them.

Honourable mentions to Alejandro Escovedo, Arrested Development, Iron & Wine, The Sojourners and Umalali. So, really, everybody.

I’d also like to mention that if anyone is in New York City this fall, Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig are starring in a Broadway production of Keith Huff’s A Steady Rain. It’s not a musical (those scared off by The Boy From Oz can tiptoe back now), but rather a play — one which has already made a pretty good name for itself, selling out two different engagements in Chicago and garnering all sorts of critical attention. Although it’s Craig’s first time on Broadway, I’m sure it will be a blistering performance on the part of both men — the story is pretty fascinating and, you know, they’ve both had a bit of experience acting here and there. No big deal.

And, in other news, the Toronto garbage strike is over! YEAHHHHH

I’ve decided to change my review format for the rest of the folk fest stuff, because quite frankly, I like making lists and you probably like reading them. If not, tough luck: here’s the Folk Festival List of Lists, Part I!

For those of you who are unaware, the festival’s all-day portions (Saturday and Sunday from 10:30 until 5:30) are made up mostly of workshops, which throw together a few different artists and make them play together for an hour or so. They are by far the most interesting, intriguing, and often surprising parts of the festival, and all of them have a theme attached to them which the musicians can draw from as much or as little as they like. To convey the theme, the clever festival staff assign them really great names. I went through them all and picked my favourites.

Best workshop names

Some Country for Bold Men
Start Making Sense
All Rebel Rockers
The Harder They Strum
and the crowning glory: Strum und Twang!

In that vein, my list of best workshops (at least out of the ones I managed to take in: the schedule is a real feat of organization!):

Some Country for Bold Men
(Danny Barnes, The Deep Dark Woods, Luluc, The Good Lovelies)
As you might expect, a whole heck of a lot of country. Danny Barnes’ blazing bluegrass was a major highlight, as was the fact that all the musicians actually joined in everything — sometimes workshops turn into awkward “you play a tune, now I’ll play a tune” sessions, and then the whole point is lost. Thankfully, none of these musicians could keep themselves from playing along, and it turned into a pretty boot-stompin’ party, tempered by the occasional downtempo folky tune in exactly the right places. The final jam tune, “I Saw The Light,” not only had everyone on stage singing but everyone in the audience too. Not bad for a Sunday morning!
(I actually bought CDs by both Luluc and The Deep Dark Woods purely on the merit of this one workshop — I hadn’t seen either before, but their measly three songs each convinced me. It was that good. I’d have bought the Good Lovelies’ CD too, but my sister beat me to it!)

Cooking With Brass
(Tarhana, Bell Orchestre, Mirah, Bellowhead)
This stage contained everything from fiddles to Sousaphone to saxophones to accordions. It was like Broken Social Scene if they had gone through high school band together or something — I think I counted twenty musicians stuffed onto that little stage. Tarhana led everybody in raucous Turkish folk jams with a ridiculous amount of groove, and Bellowhead reviewed a few of the previous night’s mainstage favourites. It was loud, brassy, and a hell of a lot of fun. The “dancing section” along the side was hopping, which is a good a sign as any that you probably picked the right stage.

The Yonge & The Restless
(Sarah Harmer, Steven Page, The Good Lovelies, Justin Rutledge)
A Toronto-centric workshop in Alberta? Potentially risky, but it just seemed to justify everybody making jokes about the garbage strike and constant rainstorms. The musical combinations of all those voices was, however, totally fantastic. Steven Page was awkwardly on edge, although not as badly as he was during his later mainstage performance — he even broke out “Jane” later in the session! Justin Rutledge led everyone in a singalong of his adorable “Don’t Be So Mean, Jellybean”, which never gets old.

Another World
(Pacifika, The Acorn, Tarhana)
Pacifika’s members come from Peru, Barbados and Canada. The Acorn is an Ottawa mainstay, and Tarhana base themselves in Amsterdam and play Balkan and Oriental folk music. The sheer number of different folk traditions included in this session is astounding, and I’m sure you can imagine the sounds that emanated from the stage once things got cooking. The afternoon was just full of infectious groove and danceability … is that even a word? To be honest, I think this session created it. That was a combination I would love to see happen again.

Guided By Voices
(Akron/Family, The Good Lovelies, Umalali, Dry Branch Fire Squad)
Again, as you might expect from the clever titling, this one was meant to be voice-guided. I don’t think they even needed to prompt them with that, though, because the voices in this combination of artists are so strong that it would have been the standout point anyway. The Good Lovelies are just, well, lovely — their Boswell Sisters cover was delightful — and Umalali are one gigantic party. Pair the latter with Akron/Family and you get something fairly out of this world. Since this one was in the festival’s final round of workshops, it was especially difficult to leave: I could have listened to that for days!

—

Coming tomorrow: List of Lists Part II, featuring the best mainstage performances and new musical discoveries of this year’s festival. Complete with tunes for your auditory enjoyment! See you tomorrow.

All done for another year!

I’m sorely lacking in sleep, so there won’t be a full review until tomorrow, but I do want to mention a few things while I’m here.

First things first: Bellowhead are your new favourite party band. If they are ever in your neighbourhood (if you live in the UK, the chances of this happening are far greater), see them. You will not be disappointed. They tore up the mainstage crowd on Saturday night and promptly sold out of CDs at the record tent before I got to it.

Australian duo Luluc are among my favourite discoveries of the festival; I believe they are playing in Toronto and Montreal shortly, although they haven’t posted the dates on their websites, so it might just be up to chance. If you live in either of these cities and see them on a poster, check it out. More about them soon.

Another favourite discovery is Toronto’s The Good Lovelies, who are exceptionally good and, yes, really lovely too. More about them soon too; they’re just such a fun trio that I will probably spend pages talking about how great they were this weekend.

I’d say everything added up pretty well today too. Overcast skies and a perfect temperature, no rain, and magnificent workshops. Justin Rutledge and Carolyn Mark rode gaily by me in a golf cart during the evening mainstage performance; Mavis Staples played her cover of “The Weight” and closed with the Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There”; Loreena McKennitt played “The Mummer’s Dance” and “The Lady of Shalott”, and Bellowhead’s John Spiers, Jon Boden, Gideon Juckes and Brendan Kelly treated us a second time to their version of “London Town”, the one that had turned Prince’s Island Park into a 12,000-strong dance party on Saturday night. Not bad for a lazy Sunday.

Full recaps, lists, and a handful of mp3s to follow! But first … to bed. Ahhhh.

(Addendum: I just had a look and my top search hit since this post is “michael franti appendix”. I’ll leave you to think about that one yourselves.)

I’ll keep this as short as possible. My bed awaits, and so does the 9:30 gates time for tomorrow’s workshops …

Highlights of the night:

- The Decemberists performing all of The Hazards of Love front to back, full of theatrics and soaring melodies and crescendos — AND THEN coming out for an encore to play “Sons & Daughters,” also known as the one song that I was absolutely dying to hear them perform. It ended with a beautiful singalong of the final refrain, all twelve thousand of us breaking the noise bylaw with great joy and gusto.

- Arrested Development making the entire park into a big dance party. Never mind that most of us can’t actually pull off the dance moves they encouraged us to imitate; it was still fun.

- The millions of adorable festival babies, including one who was propped up on his mommy’s shoulders “dancing”. Aw. Death by cute.

- Gomez, just in general. An excellent set by a group of guys who were obviously just having a great time onstage. And they played the one song I actually know, which was nice.

Bell Orchestre and Lee Harvey Osmond (not Oswald!) were also marvelous, including the trumpet player from the former playing into the bell of the French horn. Nice move.

Greatest number of toonies carried on my person at one moment: 8

Celebrities I thought I spotted in the crowd before I realised the heat was probably just making me hallucinate: Cameron Diaz, Lindsay Lohan, Emma Watson (what was in my dinner?)

Two more days to go!

Let’s hear it for the Calgary Folk Music Festival! Faced with an eleventh-hour cancellation by tonight’s headliner Michael Franti, who was suffering a ruptured appendix (and apparently was heading for surgery this evening), the festival went on remarkably smoothly. Iron & Wine, the second-to-last act of the evening, was bumped up to the prime slot and Toronto’s Woodchoppers Association, founded by original Rheostatics drummer Dave Clark, was brought in to fill the gap. It went off without a hitch, except for a few disgruntled Spearhead fans’ complaints, but nobody can really fault Franti for not being able to play.

I missed the first act, Los Misioneros del Norte, but I made sure I was back at home base for one of my most loved musicians these days, Justin Rutledge. He graced us with a bunch of gooders from Man Descending (including “St. Peter” and “Greenwich Time,” two of my favourites!) as well as “The Suffering of Pepe O’Malley, Pt III” and “Lay Me Down Sweet Jesus” from No Never Alone. It was curiously satisfying to see the latter at the folk festival, because although I’ve seen him perform it a few times, the first time I ever heard the song was when legendary Canadian blues guy Jim Byrnes covered it at the festival in 2007. Ah, the circle!

Greatly enjoyed the fusion stylings of Umalali as well — what a groove! — and the Woodchoppers really upped the ante with their genre-bending, joyful mayhem on stage. (Not bad for a last-minute mainstage addition.) And of course, Iron & Wine … I can only imagine how intimidating it must be to be on a stage that enormous by oneself, let alone perform with such a casual, familiar attitude. Perhaps it’s just the atmosphere of the festival itself. At one point, the crowd cheered and yelled after a particular song and he quipped “Is this a Canadian riot?” Oh, very funny. Welcome to the land north of the 49th.

I’ll keep this brief, but before I sign off I wanted to point out something awesome: Glen Campbell’s latest record, Meet Glen Campbell (released August 2008). He’s a mainstage act on Saturday night, and I’ve heard many an interesting tidbit about this record, so I investigated. Well, not only is it an album full of covers, but the list of artists whose songs he borrows is pretty incredible: Travis, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Foo Fighters, Jackson Browne, The Replacements, U2, Velvet Underground, Green Day, and John Lennon. Yeah — Glen Campbell covers “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)”, that song that’s been played at every high school grad since 1997. And I really want to hear him do Tom Petty and Jackson Browne. It could be awful, a product of an old star trying to connect with the whippersnappers, but I have a feeling that it’s probably awesome. I mean, “Wichita Lineman”. Do I have to continue?

I’ll try to check in daily to let you know how things are going, but it’ll be a quick turnaround between night and morning for the next two days, so updates might be scarce. You can always check out my Twitter, though — I’ll be updating “from the field” every day. And if that’s not enough, the Twitter hashtag #cfmf will provide you with posts from all folk festival Tweeters using the tag!

See you tomorrow — Bell Orchestre, Gomez, Akron/Family, Chad VanGaalen, and the Decemberists (!!!), and more besides. Whew!

I’m in the land of a stable internet connection again (for a few weeks) so posts will be a bit more frequent. Hooray!

So I had the pleasure of taking in all three WestJet-sponsored gala events for the Toronto Just for Laughs festival last week. I am a terrible comedy reviewer, but I’ll list some highlights:

• Louis CK bashing the city of Buffalo and then launching into a tirade about milk cartons.
• John Cleese coming out on stage to a standing ovation and then repeatedly insulting the city of Toronto (and, once, Hamilton).
• John Mulaney’s bit about chasing a woman down a New York subway tunnel. “I’m not going to rape you! I’m a little boy!”
• The dry humour of Jimmy Carr. “When the Iraq war started, little did President Bush know.”
• David Cross‘ sketch about “If You Care” plastic wrap and the ensuing New York Jewish accent.
• Danny Bhoy writing a letter to the Royal Bank of Scotland (“one of the ones in the real shit”) informing them of being £500-billion overdrawn. “Perhaps we can come to some kind of compromise!”
• Ross Noble stopping in the middle of a sketch to stare in shock at a man in the front row who was wearing flip-flops (“At the nicest theatre in the city!”) and then proceeding to steal them and use them in his entire act. And the second show was completely different!

Someone needs to tell John Pinette and Gina Yashere that they can actually base their act around more than one subject. Pinette’s jokes were all self-deprecating lines about how overweight he was, and Yashere’s jokes were all about black people. Sure, some of them were funny, but it gets old fast — just because you are one of those things doesn’t mean every single other subject is barred!

Gearing up for the Calgary Folk Festival! Things kick off on Thursday evening with Los Misioneros Del Norte, Justin Rutledge, Umalali, Iron & Wine, and Michael Franti & Spearhead, as well as emcee Carolyn Mark. Should be a great time — look for reviews very shortly!