vintage

Oh man, I have so many posts to write! This one’s a bit late in coming, too, so the others are going to get bumped back a bit. Sorry … I’ve got Lazy Blogger Syndrome lately, it seems.

Anyway, if you’ve been reading this blog since the get-go you’re aware of my great love for Field Music. While they are quite regrettably on some kind of band hiatus (a concept invented mainly to torment music fans), the members are still keeping themselves busy with other projects; School of Language is one of these. Mainly a solo venture for guitarist David Brewis, the School is a tight power trio on the road, and rolled through Toronto last week for an excellent set at Sneaky Dee’s.

Kicking off the show was Toronto outfit Pants and Tie, delivering a rollercoaster set of tunes that spanned a myriad of genres. Vocalist Mark Colborne belted and squeaked and hollered his way through the night, supported by excellent sampling, keys, guitar and bass work by the remaining two musicians. Some of the songs were a little off the mark (due in large part to arrangement), but when they were on, they were really on. A highlight was “Little Bird,” available for your listening pleasure on myspace.

Next up, another Toronto band by the name of The I Spies. I’ve seen them before, supporting indie-pop favourite Small Sins (some songs on their new record are co-penned by Sins’ frontman Thom D’Arcy); that was a great show, but nothing prepared me for this. I’ve rewritten this paragraph ten times and they all sounded like pretentious indie music reviewers who inject adjectives everywhere to make themselves sound good, so all I’m going to say is, they were spot-on. Every song. As some people would say, they “rocked my face off”; comparisons could be drawn to the Who at their best, and “In the Night” was absolutely fantastic. At the end of their set I kind of felt like just sitting there and staring, because it was so unexpectedly ON. I’m definitely making a point of seeing them more often. I picked up their new album, released March 11; so far, it’s just as good.

And finally, the band of the night … Sunderland’s School of Language, quirky and awkward and absolutely fantastic. David Brewis - a man who could use a good sandwich - recorded the SOL’s debut album Sea From Shore by himself, playing all the instruments and sequencing everything with a laptop. Consequently, it sounds deliciously weird and choppy, and occasionally disjointed; however, the two musicians he’s taking on tour with him ironed out the songs well, translating them admirably to a live setting. “Disappointment ‘99″ and “Poor Boy” sounded exactly like the Futureheads when performed on stage (not surprising, as his brother and fellow Field Music member Peter Brewis was among the original members); “The Rockist” bookended the set, and a Roxy Music cover featured somewhere in the middle. Requests for Field Music and Tortoise covers weren’t honoured, but for the best, likely; Sea From Shore provides great material on its own and Brewis is sagely trying to distance himself from the other projects he and SOL members have been previously involved with.

Brewis himself is a talented songwriter and guitarist, but a very humble and softspoken one; a very British “thank you very much indeed” followed every song, and conversations with him post-show yielded slightly shy acknowledgments of compliments, both from me and other people in the audience. He seemed almost reluctant to agree that Sea From Shore was a great album, but was quite excited about having been able to schedule a date in Toronto; “another gig in Pennsylvania or Ohio would really just have depressed me!”

They may not be Field Music, but that seems to be Brewis’ objective; to show that yes, there are other things he can do. Of course there are countless similarities, but School of Language seems a bit more open to experimentation and doing things that might just be called “weird” in the prog-pop frame. And with a talented group of musicians like that, they can very well do so. We need more of you, David Brewis; come back soon.

One of the most excellent things about Toronto music festivals is the abundance of in-store performances you can catch, both by local bands and visiting ones, completely for free. I dropped in on a few of them last week - braving the awful snowstorm - and here we are.

The first was at Soundscapes, a little independent record store in Little Italy with a great deal of emphasis on homegrown talent. In between buying the latest and greatest albums to hit the shelves, we witnessed a short but wonderful set by Toronto’s own Laura Barrett, mistress of the kalimba and brand-new signee to Paper Bag Records (staff were playing fellow labelmates The Acorn before her set, but I can’t tell whether that was a coincidence or not).

Since self-releasing her EP Earth Sciences back in 2005, Barrett has seen the recent release of a second EP, Ursula, as well as the reissue of Earth Sciences on Paper Bag late last year, and is at work on a full-length. Her set was, as usual, completely charming and extraordinarily well executed; she’s the newest one-woman band, at one point playing the kazoo, kalimba, and MIDI-controller bass foot pedals at the same time (and, of course, never missing a beat). We were treated to a handful of newer songs from the second EP and the upcoming album, as well as a few old favourites like “Robot Ponies” and “Stop Giving Your Children Standardized Tests”. She’s always sunny and charming, and remarkably good at keeping the audience’s attention, directing lines of the songs at audience members and generally being a great time to watch. It’s always a pleasure to catch one of her sets.

Afterward, I made it to Criminal Records (”legal music and swag”) on Queen West for an East Coast instore showcase. Because of the aforementioned snowstorm, and a late start at Soundscapes, I missed the first band - former Eric’s Trip bassist Julie Doiron’s new outfit Calm Down It’s Monday, formerly Blue Heeler, with Dick Morello - but we did catch her solo set later, which was delectable, featuring some work from her latest album Woke Myself Up (notably “Dark Horse,” which I love). I did, however, arrive in time to see - in the words of the Meligrove Band’s Mike Small - “the cutest band ever”: Halifax duo The Superfantastics. They’ve just come off a mini-tour with Laura Barrett, and they were well matched; self-described as “the Alex P. Keaton of the indie pop scene,” they are absolutely adorable, extremely talented, and make incredibly enjoyable music. Their songwriting is catchy and despite being only two people, their sound is remarkably full and engaging. They are currently touring with Julie Doiron promoting their newest EP Choose Your Destination, a follow-up to their full-length album Pop-Up Book. They’ll be playing in Calgary as part of Junofest at the beginning of April.

Closing band Dog Day, once described by Sloan’s Chris Murphy as “the ABBA of Canada” (referring to the two married couples who make up the band), ended the afternoon with an excellently delivered set of energetic pop-rock, although their stage presence left a little to be desired compared to the bouncy Matt MacDonald of the Superfantastics. Still, their performance was tight, supported by excellent work on the bass by Nancy Urich, and upheld the remarkable reputation that the Halifax-centric East Coast scene has earned for excellent pop and rock bands since the original Pop Explosion. They are touring extensively to support their new full-length, Night Group, which has earned them a great deal of positive press (for good reason; the songs are magnificent).

And all that for free! What’s not to love?

Coming up: reviews of School of Language,  the I Spies, Jason Collett, and the Mountain Goats! Stay tuned!

Sloan. If you’re Canadian, you’ve likely heard the clichés; pioneers of Canadian independent music, quintessential Can-rock, etc. But after surveying their previous work associated with the murderecords label, and checking out the new stuff they’ve signed, there’s no denying there’s some truth to them. Clichés kick around for a reason, and Sloan’s still doing what they do over fifteen years into it all.

Toronto is smack in the middle of Canadian Music Week, and as part of it, the aforementioned label put on a showcase at a little bar in Kensington Market to display some recently-signed talent (as well as their venerable, at least in rock & roll years, owners). Murder is expanding again to include bands other than Sloan, which can only mean good things. And, in almost every case, it did.

I missed the first two bands at the actual showcase, but I’ve had the great pleasure of seeing the first, Will Currie & the Country French, before. As many would attest, they are an excellent match for the label. They’re incredibly young, but have great musicianship; their music is full of breezy pop melodies and tight hooks, and the piano work is really well done. I have the demo they sold at that show for the remarkable price of $1, and it’s tighter and better produced than some recent full-length albums. Their EP will be out on murderecords sometime this year, and rest assured, there will be a review here!

The second band, Pony Da Look, is one I’ve yet to experience live; from what I understand, though, “experience” is a fairly appropriate word. Their music is very 80s influenced and awash in synthesizer and strange vocals. I’ll reserve full judgment, but I’ll say here that missing their set was not the disappointment of a lifetime.

I arrived in time to catch the slimmed-down Meligrove Band, now playing as a three-piece after the departure of guitarist/synth player Andrew Scott (yes, he’s heard the Sloan jokes!) of The Bicycles. The last time I saw them was coming off of Planets Conspire, so it’s been a while, and there was a fair amount of material in their short set that I hadn’t heard before. They did add some Planets favourites, including the explosive single “Our Love Will Make the World Go Round”; the arrangements are remarkably different live, and especially without Andrew, but they are an excellent trio of musicians and put on a great show. And they even added a Local Rabbits cover as a tribute to murderecords. Nice work, lads.

Finally came Sloan. There had been some talk that they were going to pull out some “old favourites,” but we hadn’t realised to what extent; boy, were we surprised. Right off the top, their first two songs were both sides of a 7″ from the One Chord to Another era (”Stood Up” and “Same Old Flame”), and the third, “Take Good Care of the Poor Boy” - one of Jay Ferguson’s best! - from Between the Bridges. Truthfully, they could have ended there and I’d have been happy.

They didn’t, of course, and other surprises showed up as well (namely “Before I Do,” somewhat shortened from its album version and sounding great). Each of the four did one of their new songs, as well, from their upcoming record tentatively titled Parallel Play. Unfortunately, bassist Chris Murphy - now finding himself in a comfortable and secure familial situation - seems to have lost the ability to write playful, meaningful lyrics like he used to (see “Autobiography,” “The Marquee and the Moon”); new song “I’m Not a Kid Anymore”, while musically solid, featured lyrics far too much like “Will I Belong?” or similar to be completely great.

However, newly bearded guitarist Patrick Pentland and drummer Andrew Scott - the other one - pulled off a couple of solid ones (”Believe in Me” and “911″, respectively), both rocking rather admirably, and the former conjuring shades of a more driving and uptempo sequel to “I Understand”. Guitarist Ferguson regaled us with a curious number titled “Witch’s Wand,” written in a surprisingly low vocal range, and complete with expected catchy chorus. Certainly all four were a welcome glimpse into the content of what will be their ninth (!) studio album, likely a fair bit shorter than their last effort - Never Hear the End of It was thirty tracks long, plus two bonus!

When all is said and done, Sloan definitely still knows how to put on a tight show, most of the time - and judging by the new murderecords lineup, they know how to find other bands who can do the same. If this is the new face of the label, I’ll be driving the bandwagon.

A recent conversation I had with a friend went something like this:

Him: I saw the Who last year.
Me: Man, I don’t think they should be touring with that name anymore.
Him: Why not? They’re still playing their old stuff.
Me: I know, but two of the members are dead. I just feel like it’s disrespectful to Keith and John.
Him: How would it be? Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend were the best known.
Me: But it doesn’t matter. They’re not the Who if half of them are different.
Him: What would they tour under, then?
Me: It doesn’t matter. They could tour as anything and people would go see them.
Him: I don’t think they would. I think they need the name behind them.
Me: But that’s like Paul and Ringo picking up two guys and touring as the Beatles. I’d be offended.
Him: I wouldn’t be. They’re still the Beatles.

Discuss.

I guess my take on the matter is … there are some bands you don’t mess with. The more iconic they are, the less likely I’d be inclined to call them the same band with a different lineup, basically. And bands gel with certain members. They could still play the same music, obviously, but half the reason a band is so great the way it is (or so terrible, on the other end of the spectrum) is because of the interaction - musical, physical, etc - between its members. Even introducing an extra member to an otherwise intact lineup can drastically change the dynamic.

I can’t deny the fact that I’d still go see “The Who” today, but I definitely would object to them calling themselves that. After Keith Moon died, okay, I can understand touring under the same name. But once Entwistle went, the name should have been hung up like a retired hockey jersey - revered, remembered fondly, but no longer used, out of respect. They’ll still make all their money. And certainly, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr touring as the Beatles would get them lynched. It doesn’t matter how well-known they were, nor how good the surviving members are; a band with only 50% of its old members is not the same band. Dig?

Or perhaps I’m just an idealist, out to confront the big bad world of making money in the music business. What a(n oxy)moron.

Here’s my solution: the best 1960s British revival band ever. I don’t care what they call themselves, as long as it isn’t something horrific like the “Whotles” - but I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Daltrey and Townshend with McCartney and Starr. They’d pull in astronomical amounts of money, and it would be a seriously excellent band. They’d probably all kill each other by the end, but you know, it’s rock and roll. And what a way to go!