Music, musings and miscellanea

This review originally appeared at Exclaim.ca 

Chuck Klosterman once wrote that the Darkness would never truly make it in North America. The U.S., he argued, would never embrace the band the way England had, because their music was neither completely serious nor fully tongue-in-cheek. To America, the Darkness we just too damn clever.
His prediction proved dead-on. Despite scoring a minor hit with “I Believe in a Thing Called Love,” the Darkness never conquered stadiums here the way they did in Europe, but the band still managed to sell out their Toronto stop on their current reunion tour with a crowd that mixed both fans of their over-the-top image and indiscriminating hard rockers.

After blasting the room with Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back in Town,” the quartet hit the stage. Led by singer and sometimes guitarist Justin Hawkins, who apparently spent his time apart from the band growing some ill-conceived facial hair, they wasted no time whipping the crowd into a frenzy, knocking out “Black Shuck” and “Growing on Me” at a quick clip. Digging deep next withPermission to Land-era B-side “Best of Me,” it was clear the Darkness were keen to lean on that record’s massive success and eventually played all ten of the album’s tracks.

Hawkins’s vocals haven’t aged a day and the rest of the group (guitarist Dan Hawkins, drummer Ed Graham and bass player Frankie Poullain) laid down solid slabs of AC/DC-esque riffs. Though the Darkness lacked the edge they’d once had, the band worked their way through the set like seasoned pros, used to playing far bigger venues than this mid-sized club.

The band barely acknowledged their lacklustre sophomore record,One Way Ticket to Hell… and Back. And while the crowd welcomed both the title track and “Is it Just Me?” it was disappointing to not hear standouts “Dinner Lady Arms” and “Knockers,” a song about fumbling through what was once routine. At times, Hawkins looked as if he was doing just that, appearing a tad unsure what to do with himself onstage. But most of the time, he hit all the right notes, leading the crowd through vocal exercises like Freddie Mercury and even stepping off stage briefly to change into a jailbird-inspired unitard.

Perhaps inevitably, the Darkness have written new material; they played it and received a lukewarm reaction. New songs like “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us” seemed to skip those clever double entendres that marked their best work and leaned on good-time rockisms (an album is apparently in the can and waiting to be titled and sequenced). It was clear that the crowd, while hardly hostile, was there for the old songs. Less expected was a surprising cover of Radiohead’s “Street Spirit (Fade Out),” which the band turned into the Randy Rhodes-era Ozzy rocker it was (apparently) always meant to be.

After delivering the goods with “I Believe in a Thing Called Love,” the Darkness retired for a minute before retaking the stage for their encore. Hawkins emerged with a third costume change, this time sporting in a Bovine Sex Club tee, much to the delight of the fans, and finished the night with “Love on the Rock with No Ice.” While it’s unclear where the Darkness have to go from here — musical progression never really seemed like their M.O. — it was clear the band and their fans are glad to be back together.

“Nothing’s Going to Stop Us”

Coming hot on the heels of Evan Dando’s aborted attempt to perform It’s a Shame About Ray at New York’s Bowery Ballroom (the singer claims he was under the weather), expectations for this Lemonheads gig were tentative at best. Which Dando would we get? The inconsistent shell of a man that sunk his career in the second half of the ’90s? Or the still-got-it performer whose voice has aged incredibly well and played the same venue during NXNE in June?

Before taking the stage with his backing band (an unnamed drummer and bassist who looked like Jackson Browne), Dando made his way through the packed crowd with only a couple people even noticing the one-time teen heartthrob. After doing his own sound check, he let loose the opening riff to “Rockin Stroll.” Dressed in baggy cords and worn hoody, with his long greasy hair falling into his face, Dando was Gen X personified — or at least the version Reality Bites would have had us believe.

Making their way through Ray, Dando sounded pitch-perfect with the band sounding as raggedly brilliant as on the original record. Former bass player Juliana Hatfield’s backing vocals were missed, but the crowd did an admirable job on “Rudderless” and “My Drug Buddy.” Dando engaged the crowd rarely and looked somewhat hesitant in his playing, but the group knocked out one tune after the next.

Skipping their cover of “Mrs. Robinson” that was tacked on to the end of Ray by Atlantic Records, Dando ran through nine songs on his own. Looking far more comfortable now that the pressure to deliver was clearly over, he took requests from the audience (though he stipulated it had to be “one of our songs” to cries for their cover of Suzanne Vega’s “Luka”) while playing material fromCome on Feel the Lemonheads and Car Button Cloth, such as “Outdoor Type” and “It’s About Time.”

Bringing the band back on stage, they continued this manic run through Dando’s catalogue; “Style,” “Big Gay Heart” and “Down About It” all made appearances to rapturous applause as the band and especially Dando loosened up a lot. In fact, this part of the show carried far more energy than the advertised performance ofRay, as if Dando felt put upon to perform the record, even though he’s been playing most of those songs on solo tours for the past half-decade.

After ending their main set with a muscular “Into Your Arms,” Dando once again took the stage for a final quartet of songs. The show ended anticlimactically as he sauntered off stage following “Ride with Me.” But the singer had clearly proven that he was still capable of moving an audience with his golden pipes and ramshackle guitar playing.

“It’s A Shame About Ray”

This review originally appeared at Exclaim.ca

Back in the ’90s, any band the major labels spat out seemed to get tagged as “the next Nirvana,” regardless if they sounded like the Seattle trio. Denials in the press were common, but most found the comparison tough to shake — just ask Bush or Silverchair.
Nashville duo JEFF the Brotherhood actually do sound like Nirvana, and they seemingly couldn’t care less. They even carry themselves with the same fuck-off indie swagger that Kurt and co. famously brought into the mainstream.

Openers White Fence and the Strange Boys did their best to win over the crowd with their individual takes on ’60s rock, but quite frankly, most of the efforts were forgotten once the brothers Orrall hit the stage. It was nice to see that the duo haven’t let their newly inked deal with Warner Bros. change their wardrobe, which resembled a one-stop shopping spree at Value Village.

The pair quickly established their presence, laying down some Sabbath-esque riffs. Guitarist Jake yelled into the mic while staring down the audience before launching into “Hey Friend.” This technically being the band’s album release party for their new disc We Are the Champions, JEFF the Brotherhood’s set leaned heavily on the new record and their previous breakthrough Heavy Days. Jake wandered into the crowd several times during the set without missing a note while the crowd cheered on, camera phones in tow. If the audience were unfamiliar with the new material, they certainly didn’t show it, as a mosh pit quickly opened up near the front of the stage and beer cans started flying.

By the show’s halfway mark, a pair dressed as blue and pink Easter bunnies had made their way into the fray, their heads quickly taken as trophies and tossed around in the crowd. Eventually one landed onstage, knocking Jake’s guitar cable loose. But as they did the entire rambunctious set, the brothers paid no mind to the screaming crowd; drummer Jamin didn’t miss a beat while Jake ditched the rabbit head and quickly plugged in.

Stone-faced throughout, JEFF the Brotherhood bid farewell with a slow and sloppy number before returning for one last tune. Whether their major label deal will bring chart success to the brothers remains to be seen, but it’s clearly done nothing to blunt their formidable live show on which their reputation is based.

“Bone Jam”

This review originally appeared at Exclaim.ca

As with everything Neil Young, the announcement of two shows at Toronto’s storied Massey Hall was coupled with a great deal of mystery. The concerts were set to be filmed by director Jonathan Demme as the finale to his trilogy of Young concert films. Heart of Gold captured the songwriter in all his country glory while Trunk Show showed Young’s hard-rocking and jammier side. So which Young would the fans get this time?

Unsurprisingly, Young’s ability to avoid being pinned down carried over to his song selection this night. Rather than choosing to be defined by his sonics, Young cashed in some of his post-Juno adoration for a set focused on the personal and introspective side of his weighty catalogue, leaning on a similar set list to the one he’s used on his recent solo tours.

Sauntering onstage alone, decked out in jeans, a black T-shirt, cream sports coat and matching hat, he appeared to take stock of the setup — a colourfully decorated grand piano, pump organ, battered-looking standup piano and wooden statue of an American Indian — before he took his seat. Lit by a pair of spotlights, his acoustic in hand, Young delivered “My My, Hey Hey (Out of the Blue),” “Tell Me Why” and the CSNY classic “Helpless,” much to the delight of the packed audience.

But any thoughts that Young was seeking to recreate his famed 1971 acoustic performance at the same venue were quickly dashed. Young soon ditched his guitar for an acoustic-electric hybrid on the beautiful “You Never Call,” a song that was recorded for last year’s Le Noise but was axed from its final tracklisting, as well as a pair of tunes that did make the cut. Switching guitars again, Young ripped through passionate, overdriven versions of “Down by the River” and “Ohio.”

Young let his music do the talking for the majority of the set while fans cried out between song lulls or at any mention of Canada, Ontario, Toronto or hockey. He finally spoke as he sat down at the upright piano. “Here’s a song for all the little people — they’re too small to be here tonight,” he joked. “Mamma said ‘nope’ but Grandpa’s here.”

The main set ended with solo-electric versions of “Cortez the Killer” and “Cinnamon Girl.” Young briefly left the stage before returning for a feedback-drenched version of Le Noise‘s “Walk with Me.” How Demme eventually chooses to frame the evening remains to be seen, but the show itself showed that however varied Young’s songs are in instrumentation, they remain highly personal snapshots of time.

This review originally appeared at Chartattack.com

Never let it be said that Elephant 6 fans aren’t dedicated people.

It was a lesson learned by my friend, who, while standing in line at Toronto’s Lee’s Palace on Friday night, commented that he didn’t necessarily subscribe to the Church of Jeff Mangum the way that others do. This resulted in us receiving an earful from the guy in line ahead of us.

“You should have seen their gig at the Horseshoe back in ’98. It was mind-blowing. You won’t understand ’cause you weren’t there.”

Take that, hipsters.

Such is the devotion that E6 engendered during the ’90s. Built on the reputations of Neutral Milk Hotel,Olivia Tremor Control and The Apples In Stereo, the label/collective established a new approach to touring and releasing albums that blurred the lines between its member groups. It’s an approach that would be adopted by an entire new generation of musicians, including the Arts & Crafts crew right here in Toronto.

But after 10 years more or less out of the spotlight, these indie OGs have decided to leave the commune and hit the road to show the kids they inspired just how its done.

That crew started the show in the audience, next to the sound booth, singing in unison before marching their way onto the stage. With about a dozen E6 alum in the house, said stage filled up pretty quickly thanks to two drum sets and a tuba that were among the litany of instruments strewn about.

This also made moving around on-stage difficult, but that didn’t stop the collective members from changing their configuration with almost every song. It was refreshing to see a band not treat instruments like the banjo or the saw with affected preciousness, something today’s indie rockers seem to have projected onto any instrument that doesn’t fit the standard rock band mold.

To try and figure out every song they played would require a complete discography, plus a pretty intimate knowledge of indie and outsider music from the last 40 years. Suffice to say with a large number of its members on hand this night, Olivia Tremor Control’s catalogue was well represented, and I was able to pick out tunes by The Gerbils and Music Tapes.

Selections were presented as “this is a song Scott wrote,” or “this is one of Julian’s,” rather than attaching tunes to any singular project. This emphasized the fluid nature of the Elephant 6 oeuvre and the reverence its members have for one another’s music — egos are cast aside as whoever’s around lends a hand to best serve the song being played at that moment.

About an hour into their set came a brief intermission that ended with the unveiling of a snowman. The audience member who was able to throw the snowball through the moon on the other side of the venue would “melt” the snowman and bring on spring, Julian Koster explained in one of his many hilariously inventive stories. That audience member would also get to request any song by any band that they wanted.

But the musicians onstage vetoed the winner’s choice and instead went with AC/DC’s “Hells Bells,” which Will Cullen Hart had apparently wanted to play all tour. Minutemen and Royal Trux covers also made their way into the set, which ended up stretching almost three-and-a-half hours.

The encore, or more appropriately, the third act, stretched well passed the hour mark and at this point it was clear everyone onstage was playing for themselves. The show had unfortunately lost a lot of the momentum it had built up earlier, and the bar was half-empty. But you’ve got to hand it to a bunch of dudes (and dudette — Laura Carter was the lone female representative) in their forties who can outlast fans in their twenties.

The show ended the way it started, with the whole crew marching back into the audience, brass instruments and a drum in hand, encouraging everyone left in the venue to sing along to multiple rounds of Sun Ra’s “Enlightenment.”

Musical talent of this magnitude coming from a group of musicians with so much respect for both their audience and one another is incredibly rare in this age of hipster cool. Trying to put the Elephant 6 Holiday Surprise Tour’s unique and epic vibe in words is a rather difficult task. Perhaps it’s best summed up with: you had to be there, man.