Halifax Pop Explosion | Day 4 | MSTRKRFT

I'd hide my face too if I was that bad

The worst show of my life. Unequivocally. No contest. Without a doubt. That's how bad MSTRKRFT at The Palace was on Friday night. Fuck needing notes (but not really, I'll be using them), that concert will stay fresh in my mind for how historically and wholly bad it was on every level.

So it started off like this: I get to The Palace at about 11pm, thinking I'd slot in comfortably haflway through the five-act set. In front of me was the biggest line I've seen for the venue since the last time they had "dollar drinks" for sale, November 10th of last year. I saw a few of the same faces from the last two nights, so I was hoping the rest of the crowd wouldn't be the usual Palace set, or all-too-eager band-wagoners who decided to come get sloshed to a concert featuring possibly the one name they knew on the Halifax Pop Explosion's vast roster of acts. Sadly, I would be proved wrong on all counts throughout the night.

The place was already packed when I got in following my 20 minute plus wait, and Double A was still spinning more than half an hour after Scientists Of Sound were supposed to be on stage. That was an early indication of how the night would be trending. I "snuck" up front, which basically involved swimming my way through what was a crush of people packed into the smallish dancefloor. Double A's music was nothing special at all, as I spent more time focusing on keeping my arms up so I wouldn't get smothered than I did on whatever the hell he was playing up there. The amount of pushing and shoving was just ridiculous, as was the amount of drinking that was going on. I already knew The Palace was going to make a killing that night, but getting in and seeing just how much people were drinking and how many of them were already drunk, I had to seriously reconsider not only The Palace's profitability from a night like this, but also the prospect of me actually sticking around to see if it was worth it.

I could tell people weren't there to see MSTRKRFT, let alone anyone else on the bill that night. I'm a MSTRKRFT fan from what I've heard of them, but I knew it would be a tough show when many of their best songs are remixes of other people's work, as well as tracks featuring acts who have neither the time nor the need to tour along with them and provide vocals (see: "Bounce" featuring Thunderheist's Isis and N.O.R.E. as well as big hit "Heartbreaker" with John Legend). As that was the case, I was glad to see Scientists Of Sound were also performing, due to the great show they put on in opening for Thunderheist at The Paragon in September. Anyway, try relaying any of the above to the people packing the floor on Friday night: they seemed like they didn't give two shits about who was playing that night -- they just wanted to get drunk and maybe dance.

And don't get me wrong: I don't think there's anything wrong with that. What I do think is wrong is if you're already charging about $40 to see MSTRKRFT play, oversell the venue, keep everyone waiting in line while you pat down all the guys going in, treat the whole thing like it's just another night at your sketchy downtown bar, and generally mishandle the thing so badly that I was seriously considering leaving the show at multiple points during the night. And I mean multiple as in: within ten fucking minutes of showing up, and every ten minutes after that. Why I stuck it out? The misguided principles of "journalistic duty," the perverse notion of "at least I can say I saw MSTRKRFT live," and what seemed like the most reasonable: "I just wanna see if they're any good live." All horrible excuses when I was having as little fun as I was.

Scientists Of Sound eventually got on stage, and they eschewed standing behind the incomprehensible "DJ stand" that was basically a stomach-high bar, embossed with a "MOLSON" decal missing the "N." You were lucky if you could even see whatever was on whoever was up there's t-shirt if they stood behind it. In lieu of that monstrosity, they set up on the right-hand side of the stage, synths and keyboards and laptops stacked on makeshift tables, looking similar to the last time I saw them. Except this time, there was nowhere near the pitch-perfect and crystal-clear sound I'd heard at The Paragon from them, or even the full-sounding acoustics The Weakerthans had played with at the only other concert I'd ever attended at The Palace.

Either the crowd was so damn noisy or the sound system so badly tuned, that I probably would've never bothered checking out Scientists Of Sound again had I not heard them that initial time. Just a real letdown, and the only person who seemed to enjoy it was a guy up on stage who was so drugged out that he stared wide-eyed and in amazement at the duo throughout their entire set, somehow flabbergasted that these two were making the kinds of noises they did with the instruments at hand.

That wasn't the strangest site either that night. There were other random people on the stage throughout the night, sometimes photographers, sometimes friends of the bands, the occasional lush, and most disconcertingly, a guy who I can only imagine is The World's Biggest Douchebag, rocking a completely out-of-place dress coat over a pink polo with its collar popped. That's not even to mention the poor girl who was dancing for about half an hour on-stage with her nipple hanging out, before some kind girl on the opposite end of the floor waved her over and pointed out her embarrassing wardrobe malfunction. Just a weird, messed-up night.

After Scientists Of Sound, the last opener Kay Gee came on, and you could tell the crowd was getting restless, as no one seemed into his set whatsoever. In my eyes and ears, the only good thing he did for however long he was up there was play Breakbot's remix of PNAU's "Baby" and Fred Falke's reworking of Little Boots' "New In Town" (both featured earlier last week right here on IATT as it happens).

In between the sets though, I should mention that z103, the local "Beat of Halifax," had one of their staff members MC'ing  the event, and introducing the upcoming acts. I like z103, and it's the only local station I listen to when I bother wanting music on the radio here. But for the love of all that's good: fuck off with promoting the upcoming drink and cover specials when we've been waiting in a sweaty mass of people for the last hour to hear some freaking MSTRKRFT. We could care less about what he was talking about, and it got to the point that the second time I saw him come up, the crowd was startling to heckle him and tell him to "fuck off!" quite plainly. It's the Halifax Pop Explosion, it's MSTRKRFT, we're paying good money, 75% of us are drunk, the show's behind by more than a half-hour, you're boring, you're holding us up, and you're not telling us anything we want to hear. Shut up.

The worst part of z103 sponsoring and MC'ing the night? They don't played a damned bit of anyone performing. That might actually qualify them as the worst bandwagon-jumpers of anyone on Friday. Anyway, it got so bad after Kay Gee kept his set going that we were starting to shout him down as well, with calls of "you! still! suck!" and "mas-ter-kraft!" All in all, the kid seemed a little too excited to be there, and just a tad nubile. Plus between him and Double A, neither was doing anything different than a regular DJ would at your local club, except maybe play a set that's not quite as radio-heavy as they tend to be here around Halifax.

Scientists Of Sound on MySpace

By the time Kay Gee was done his set, I was able to nudge and generally "work" my way up to second or third row from the front, hoping to get away from the sway and the crush near the middle of the floor. As luck would have it, it only got worse once I was up there: I was so tightly squeezed between people that I felt the breath being sucked out of me at points, and I heard similar complaints all around me of people having problems even catching a breath. Even between all the pushing and shoving on its own, I saw two fights almost break out, and if I wasn't being subjected to the radius of the guy's voluminous dreadlocks in front of me, I was involuntarily invading the personal space of the two raging lesbians having a mid-concert make-out session beside me.

Finally, MSTRKRFT showed up to a roar of pleasure from the crowd...and I was gone in ten minutes. No lie. I got fed up with the now-even-more rabid crowd, and it was still at the unfathomable point where I was more concerned with my bodily safety and not getting hit in the face with a glancing elbow than I was with paying attention to the music. The last straw was when I realized Jesse and Al were doing no different than anyone else had that night: setting up behind the MOLSO bar and stoicly playing with their laptops in an effort to try to amp up the overtired crowd. I either didn't know it before, or I should've, but MSTRKRFT - at least live - aren't the expert mix-masters they come off as, but instead simply glorified DJ's.

In an effort to salvage the night, I texted my friends who I knew were frequent Palace VIP, hoping they had showed up and could possibly show me a better time now that the music part of the night had let me down. It turned out they were just showing up to the club, and we ended up having some drinks, stuck around for a mostly forgettable listen to the majority of MSTRKRFT's (what I found out later would be three-hour) set, and danced a little bit to the strains of "Bounce" and some other unrecognizable electro. Even when they threw in a remix of "D.A.N.C.E." you barely felt the place pick up, as close to 70% of the people at The Palace were having drinks and talking to their friends, not on the crush of the dancefloor "enjoying" the show.

People overcharge for a lot of things these days. Gas. Popcorn at the movies. Cell phones. Add MSTRKRFT to that list. Definitely not worth the price of admission, let alone the time of my life I wasted on Friday hoping the night would turn out for the better at some point.

Halifax Pop Explosion | Day 3

Cadence Weapon at The Paragon

By this point, I'm about five days removed from actually having went to shows last Thursday night, so I'm going off my memory, plus some notes I made the day after. Let's get right to it:

Jenocide | @ The Paragon: this duo reminded me right off the bat of Crystal Castles. Nowhere near the stage presence or ominousness of that Toronto pair, but the same girl vocalist and silent mixer thing going on, plus of course the electronic nature of the whole thing. Whereas Crystal Castles has that dissonance between Alice Glass' shouts and the otherworldly hums, burrs and samples coming from Ethan Kath's various electronic instruments, Jenocide's a much more straightforward venture, in that they sound poppier, and lead singer Jen Clarke's voice is clear and complimentary to the tracks.

That didn't necessarily mean however that they were always needed. Jenocide's mix-maker Ed Renzi more than holds his own, ever-so-quietly providing killer beats for Jen to work with and around; when some of the loops dropped in, or an additional beat kicked up, they came harder than you'd expect for such a seemingly electro-pop outfit. How they tied in to Jen's vocals was almost strange: although her singing was great and her stage presence an integral part of the show (wandering down on more than one occasion to serenade the crowd of 20 to 30, both on the floor and from a strategically placed chair in front of the stage), you almost felt like Renzi's beats alone would be enough to start a party, and Clarke's lyrics just a sugary side dish to the main beat-centered course. Either way, the singing never took away from the quality of any of the tracks, so I'm not complaining here.

Jenocide - Fashion Icon

Old Folks Home | @ The Paragon: I first have to point out that I'm used to going to bigger shows, where you're lucky to even catch a full look at what the band members' faces all look like. Thursday night at The Paragon, the members of Old Folks Home were actually standing right beside me during Jenocide's show, unbeknownst to me until a stage manager came up behind them and said "they've got five more minutes and the stage is all yours after that." Definitely a different kind of vibe for the Halifax Pop Explosion shows I'd have to say, and the only time I can remember something like that happening was when my friend and I accidentally stole The Pack A.D.'s table before their show.

Anyways, Old Folks Home's set was definitely a smidgen darker than Jenocide's (the acts during these shows didn't always exactly follow the same genre I found) and provided lots of distortion, as well as drum and synth loops -- which was weird, considering they already had a drummer. That led however to pretty well-textured sound to their set, but also some awkward moments when the drummer just kinda sat there while the loop played for the first minute or so on some songs. Overall, the duo had a spacey sound, and the lead singer's voice was pretty good for a band that relied so much on distortion of instrumentation -- usually a sure sign they're trying to compensate for a singer's lacklustre vocals.

They killed their first two or three songs as far as I remember, but the pace and ferocity really slowed down after that, and never really recovered. During one of the tunes though, lovely local star Rebekah Higgs wandered out from backstage and lent her vocals, which was kinda cool. Overall though, I felt a little underwhelmed by these guys. The rest of the night in retrospect was upbeat and electro-driven; Old Folks Home had some of those elements in their show, but used them in a slower, more deliberate and probably "deeper" way. I wouldn't know for sure though, as I could barely make out most of the words being sung.

Funny aside: between songs, they mentioned their merch was all $5, to which a (drunk) female crowd member yelled what sounded like: "five dolla make you holla!"...but unfortunately, the lead singer must've heard something different, and responded by saying "no, five dollars makes YOU hotter!" in a jokey sort of way, but which elicited some "oohs" and a general uncomfortableness among the crowd. Thankfully, he realized his faux-pas, and proceeded to apologize, but it couldn't have felt too good.

Old Folks Home on MySpace

Think About Life | @ The Paragon: to quote the first line of my notes? "FUCKING KILLED IT." It was by far one of the most fun and exciting shows I'd been to all year. But before that, I'm gonna bore you a bit. As the band was tuning and setting up, there was a woman walking around in what looked like an awkward 90's pantsuit: it went up to her waist, she was rocking quite an unflattering top and a bowlish haircut straight out of some "how not-to" guide. She just looked completely out of place. Plus her shoes didn't match the rest of the suit. Anyway, I thought she was some understudy at soundcheck or general "stage-handing" and that they were kind of "letting" her do the show. I mean, she just looked like that to me. Lo and behold, she walked out with the three guys I'd seen in The Coast's pictures of Think About Life, and grabbed a spot in front of one of the mics. Go figure. She proceeded to provide some harmonies, a few vocals, and awkwardly nonrhythmic dance moves for the next half-hour or so. Even slapped some bass for a tune.

Before the whole group materialized though, the guitarist stood by some of his electronics and started fiddling with them to create some really interesting atmospherics. After that however, Think About Life went on to bang out one song after another of pure. awesome. dance-inducing. party-starting. music. I cannot stress enough how much I immensely enjoyed their set. Unfortunately, a certain fellow in a plaid red shirt beside me (coulda been anyone considering how much plaid was being rocked over the weekend) seemed like he needed a few drugs to enjoy the show, and was writhing and dancing like a maniac for the first few tunes -- on top of delivering the most malicious elbow I've ever felt at a concert as he was trying to go by me, and this is from a guy who will literally let anyone by him if they wanna move up. After their first few initial tracks though, Think About Life had me dancing at a pace approaching his drug-induced level, so that's how that all ties in; just totally contagious, body-moving sounds.

At one point, I turned around to see Rebekah Higgs moving to the music with some of her friends, and looked across the floor and spotted Wednesday night's star Hannah Georgas similarly enjoying herself. Think About Life brought out that night's headliner Cadence Weapon to help out with the energetic "Sweet Sixteen," which had everyone shouting along the words and simultaneously jumping up and down to the stuttering beat. Cadence was just as into the show as Think About Life themselves, and it was one of the most engaging renditions of any song I've heard on the festival circuit this year so far. The crowd itself was so locked in to the performance that we started an instant call-and-response with lead singer Martin Cesar (aka "Dishwasher") from one off-key shout of "woo-oo!" Cesar even proceeded to come down into the now-packed crowd and get up close and personal with the raucous bunch.

Overall, Think About Life was one of the catchiest and best live groups I've ever seen, matching the same feeling of fun (though not quite the same deliriousness) I had during Crystal Castles' set at Osheaga in the summer. Their zest for their music and Cesar's indelible stage presence made every single second so full of energy and vigor that even a set twice as long would never be enough. Their style was completely unique, and I definitely can't wait for the next time they come through town. I was actually so taken by them that on my way out (I didn't stick around for Cadence Weapon's set) I bought one of the t-shirts the band had for sale at the merch table, something I've never actually done at any show. Oh yeah, we also cheered like crazy for an encore, but I guess only the headliners were allowed to come back out for one during Halifax Pop Explosion, so that was literally the only letdown associated with Think About Life on such a great night.

Think About Life - Havin' My Baby

Fox Jaws | @ Coconut Grove: I wound down my Thursday night with a visit to see these guys play where my roommate and his girlfriend were for the night: the nicer-than-expected Coconut Grove, a cozy little club with a low ceiling I'd always known about, but never been to. It was the kind of place that would be a perfect basement spot...if it wasn't on the top floor overlooking the infamous Pizza Corner, with its own patio and all. The place had a weird stage set-up inside, with the guitarist and singer on the floor, and the bassist and drummer on a small elevated platform in behind.

The first thing I noticed as soon as the set started was the sound: it was nowhere near as encompassing as The Paragon's -- but I'm now convinced that no venue in town has a sound system quite as great as that club's. At the Grove, there were only about 25-35 people taking in the show, but in a small venue like that, we were all pretty close in. I was told that the night's earlier acts - Yukon Blonde, The Paint Movement and Hot Panda - all put on a good show, so I was looking forward to a nice close to my night, a kind of wind-down from Think About Life's spirited set. Singer Carleigh Aikins (drummer Brandyn's sister evidently) has a great voice, with the slightest rasp to it, and she sounded great even when yelling some of the vocals, keeping good tone throughout.

Carleigh often had a tambourine in hand during the set, and although I'm not usually a fan of that instrument, Fox Jaws brought up a sax player for "Ahab's Ghost," a song which also featured a persistent guitar loop. On that latter point, I'd never been to so many concerts featuring as much sampling and looping as I had over those few days. It's probably more to do with the smallish size of the bands themselves and the genres of the music I was watching, but it was almost a mini-revelation to see how a lot of the music I like is done live.

Fox Jaws played a pretty all-out and rock-infused set, keeping up their intensity throughout. They were definitely deserving of a bigger crowd, and even their sound itself is built ready to tackle larger venues and sound systems, so it was a bit of a shame they were secluded to a sparsely-attended show at Coconut Grove. To temper that though, I wasn't particularly blown away by their music - it could've been me coming down from the amazing Think About Life set, my creeping tiredness, or my general need to grab a slice of pizza - and we ended up leaving early to grab a bit of said pizza and head home.

Think About Life - Ahab's Ghost

Halifax Pop Explosion | Day 2

The Got To Get Got (courtesy of TheCoast's flickr photo-pool)

You'll notice there's no Day 1...because I didn't actually go. I have a festival pass, which I mistakenly bought in the summer, thinking I'd take in a ton of shows and that it'd totally be worth it. Wrong. When I looked at the pricing of the shows I actually wanted to see, as well as be able to physically attend, I would've been much better off just buying advance tickets to those performances. But whatever, it's my first HPX, and I'll learn for next year. As for why I didn't go to Day 1, featuring California's Crystal Antlers? Midterms. Yay.

But luckily, I only have about 2.5 days of school a week, and booked all my nights off from work so that I could catch as many shows as possible. Last night, that included stops at both craptastic Toothy Moose and the semi-legendary Paragon Theatre (more legitimately legendary as The Marquee Club, which is what it used to be known and run as). Of course, there were acts playing at other places that I also wanted to see, like the above-pictured Got To Get Got at The Seahorse, but even though the proximity of the venues was convenient, the set times certainly weren't. So my night went as follows:

Hannah Georgas | @ The Toothy Moose: I've heard some of Hannah's stuff both on CBC Radio 3 and on her own myspace page as well. She comes off as held-back and acoustic for the most part...both of which certainly weren't on display last night. She had what I soon found out was Said The Whale's backing band playing with her, so her one-woman act fleshed out into an ensemble featuring the pretty Hannah on guitar, as well as the cutest girl on keyboards, a drummer who looked all of 10 years old, and a pretty nondescript bassist (though they usually are, aren't they?). The overall effect was definitely an upgrade over many of the recordings I'd heard of Georgas'.

She has a great voice off the get-go, and an awesome stage presence, commanding attention and exuding confidence. Last night she was rocking an old-school wolf shirt too, so she either has a great sense of irony and humour...or just looks good in a wolf shirt. The set itself felt just long enough, and Hannah kept my interest throughout, changing up tempos and feelings, from the song she literally said was about "dating an asshole" to her huge closer "All I Need," which had the same kind of feeling for me as, dare I say it, Death Cab For Cutie's stunning rendition of "Transatlanticism" earlier this year. It started off slow and delicate, and seemed an odd choice for a set closer...then it kept building, and building, until it seemed the song was filling up the whole room -- and everyone's hearts. Check it out below, and then imagine it twice as loud and passionate towards the end:

Hannah Georgas - "All I Need"

Just a footnote though about this show and The Toothy Moose in general as a venue: it would be a fine punk venue, with the low stage and boxy design...if it wasn't a freaking country and western bar. The crowd seemed totally at odds with the usual frequenters, and if that wasn't enough, I was forced to recall the great crowds at Osheaga in Montreal this summer. The reason? The one really loaded girl and her semi-drunk girlfriends in front of me. It's fine to go nuts if there's a lot of people and they're all moving and shaking...but sadly, the 'Moose last night was far from that, being nearly-empty and all. You guys were just kinda annoying, and somehow already drunk during the first act.

Said The Whale | @ The Toothy Moose: now this Vancouver band started off the set with an a capella start to "False Creek Change," which sounds like as good of a sea shanty as you could whip up right here in Halifax. They played through a melodic if somewhat forgettable set, and I dunno if that's because I had higher expectations from excitable single "Camilo (The Magician)," or because I simply wasn't that familiar with their stuff. Sadly, I probably remembered them more for their funny quips in between songs, though they definitely did quite a number on "Camilo" as well as "This City's A Mess." The tempo of the show just happened to be all over the place for me though, between a few slow and folksy tunes, and my more-favoured rocking songs.

Said The Whale - "Camilo (The Magician)"

Kestrels | @ The Toothy Moose: I was hoping to settle in by this point and enjoy a rocking show, but unfortunately, things didn't get too much better. The crowd severely thinned out once Said The Whale finished their set, and there was maybe one third of the people left to see Kestrels perform. As their lead singer took the mic and said they had 20 minutes to play and that he'd shut up right after this, you could barely hear him above the chatter in the bar. I felt pretty bad for the guys actually.

The show itself was full of droning, feedback, pedal effects and a general warbling tilt to most of the songs. They actually even kept the droning going in between songs, so it almost seemed like Kestrels played one super-long piece of aggressive post-punk. I'm not sure if it was just the acoustics of the place, or the general malaise of the audience towards them and the corresponding effort by the band, but they weren't anything that impressive. Imagine Japandroids, but like two steps down if you can -- more garage-y, but also more jangly, so a bit of a juxtaposition.

Either in response to the audience, or his own pent-up rage during the set, the lead singer and guitarist randomly smashed his instrument to the ground at one point, only to pick it up unharmed...and heave it at the curtain behind the stage, which was only serving to cover a wall, and which consequently sent gyprock spraying when the head of the guitar stuck in and promptly fell out. Confusing series of events to say the least, especially since Kestrels' music doesn't seem particularly...angry. Below is a track they may have played, but which certainly didn't have the same zeal or earnestness to it last night.

Kestrels - "Sailed On"

Sprengjuhollin | @ The Paragon: don't laugh. That's what they're actually called, and it means something like "exploding palace" in Icelandic. Yes, they're the biggest pop sensation from Iceland, and they were playing last night when I wandered over to The Paragon after Kestrels finished their set. I wasn't greatly impressed by their msypace playlist when I was trying to pick what concert to attend last night, but as I got there, what they were lacking in perceived musical talent, they surely made up for in spunk -- and strangely enough, English. Everyone in the band who spoke last night had very good English, and just the slightest accent. Sure, three out of the five of them looked Icelandic...but you'd never be able to tell from speech alone.

The keyboardist seemed to be the band's spokesman, cracking jokes all night long and even offering free t-shirts to whomever was brave enough to stick their face into the sweaty bassist's stomach (again: don't laugh - four girls ended up doing it, and all got shirts for their effort). Just to backtrack though, I got to the venue in between songs, and in time for the keyboardist to point at a sign another band member was carrying, all to help us sound out their seemingly impossible name. "Spreng-you-hok-lean" was what I derived from the group session, but I'll be damned if anyone but the band said it right during any point of the night.

Among the funnier quips during their set was them implying that Iceland was "just to the East" of Canada, and they were "pretty much one of your provinces." This of course was part of their merch pitch, which also included a frank declaration that "as most of you know, our country, Iceland, went broke last year," which elicited a few laughs from the crowd. All that aside, their music fell somewhere between knee-slapping folk, energized dance-pop, melancholy ballads, alt-country and upbeat rock. Overall, the band was certainly faster-paced than (again) their myspace led me to believe. Some of the lyrics were also in Icelandic, as the band is only now in the process of translating their work into English for more widespread consumption.

Sprengjuhollin had at least two very good songs, and their slight lead singer, a boyish fellow with long sideburns and short-cut hair, delivered the lyrics in an almost-precious manner, seemingly unsure of the English footing of his words. They even got the same sweaty bassist to slow it down for a number, handing him a guitar and the mic for a decent tune. Overall, the band was fun, likable, and probably a group I wouldn't mind seeing again, especially once they flesh out their catalogue a little more.

Sprengjuhollin - "Worry 'Til Spring"

Mates Of State | @ The Paragon: at this point I should probably point out just how spread out and sparse the crowd was at The Paragon. I've been to a handful of shows there, and I have to admit every one of them was probably better-attended than last night's HPX exhibition. There were people from front to back, but they all seemed grouped up and most of them not even interested in the acts onstage. This of course led to an easy-to-reach spot in the second row, centre stage (basically the same place I had at the Toothy Moose), but I couldn't help feeling there could have been more passion flowing through the place as the top two acts were playing.

Either way, after what must've been the lengthiest set-up delay since Crystal Castles ended up in Ottawa instead of Montreal this summer, the married couple better known as Mates Of State came out to their drumset and pair of keyboards and synths. You could see the disinterest in their eyes and body language even as the stage was being arranged for them: husband Jason Hammel came out in a khaki trenchcoat and tucked-in scarf, looking like he was more ready for a shopping trip than playing drums. Wife Kori Gardner seemed no more into it either, even when Jason tried to create some between-song banter with her; she was reduced to saying what - thinking back seems a little meanspirited - "my mother always told me if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything at all."

Here, I have to admit that I read The Coast's review after I did up my own notes, and though I made a point even then of Mates Of State's business-like demeanor and general tiredness, I never really equated those to a displeasure the group must've had towards either the crowd or the city in general. Jason even whipped out his Blackberry as he was tuning up his drums, and I was fully afraid that he'd play the entirety of the show in his trenchcoat and scarf. Of course, that may have been influenced by some pretense I had about the group being from Britain, and possibly a ponderance on my part that the duo may have thought themselves "bigger" than a show at the HPX. That was washed away when I could neither hear an accent from the two, nor any mention of a long trip over here. In reality, they're just a couple from Kansas, possibly weary of a long tour and under-attended venue.

The music though was far from lacklustre. I went in thinking I was gonna get lambasted with over-the-top pop melodies and boy-girl harmonies from two lovebugs crafting old-timey tunes. I was quite wrong. Jason plays a mean drum, pinpoint and severely catchy, and also mixed in much higher than you'd hear a drumset this side of Death From Above 1979. That may be a stretch to compare him to such a hard-driving dance-punk group, but the dude can play, and his drumming went a long way to helping impress Mates Of State's live show upon me. Kori's crafty synth work (creating a palpable atmosphere throughout every song) and equally deft keyboard playing even made up for the lack of guitar. I even found it a fun little game to compare them to the only other husband-wife duo I've seen live: Handsome Furs, at this year's Virgin Festival. Whereas the Furs put wife on drum machine/synth and husband on a wall of distorted guitar, Mates took a different approach with the real drums and fake pianos/synth. Vastly different styles of course, but two neat approaches to coping with not having a full band.

Many of the songs were thumping, superbly catchy, upbeat (notice I love that word/style?), and sometimes downright ecstatic. The onstage presence of the duo was business-like as mentioned, to the point where each one basically knew what to do, talked little in between songs, and just played out the show. The audience probably wasn't helping either, as after four acts and two venues I was literally nodding off at some points, and I wasn't the only one from the number of yawns I saw going around The Paragon. If Mates Of State were tired, we were certainly doing no better. Refreshingly, there was only one really drunk guy I saw, as the crowds tend to be a bit better behaved at The Paragon than at other venues.

The rest of the place could've used a drink though thinking back, as I remember that every time a song ended, you could only hear what seemed like the front quarter of the place clapping. Sing-a-longs were few and far between, as I was standing by ostensibly the only four or five people who knew any of the Mates' material. Even our clapping for the encore resembled a forced gesture, with few whoops if any, and moreso a feeling that we owed it to the band as the headliners to ask for an encore, and they owed it in return to give us one.

I'm basically going out on a limb and saying last night's show was like staying in a relationship that's not working for either person, but you keep riding it out because you know that soon enough, it's gonna be over. I was even so hungry and tired that I felt a little microcosm of that myself: once the show was over, I could swing by McDonald's and then pass out on my bed. Is that the feeling you want during a show, let alone the headliners? I'd probably say no.

Some musical notes though before I finish - because there actually was some music being played while all of this was going on. "My Only Offer" was definitely their showstopper, as they performed a rousing rendition. The rest of the tunes definitely had me questioning the point of even putting songs on a band's myspace page, when they sound so little like that live. I mean, they kinda blew my socks off at some points last night, taking me into the rhythm and melody of the tracks with barely a drum kick and a synth stab. For all their laissez-faire attitude up there, they sure can still bang out the songs when need be.

Mates Of State - "My Only Offer"

My overall lesson from last night? Don't trust myspace; bands some bands are better live than you'd think...while others...not so much.

Day 2 Recap and Review of Osheaga

"I will kill you if you try to steal it"

I think there's been more time between this review and the actual shows this time around compared to the first day, so I'll try to remember as much as possible. I was completely wiped yesterday as we pulled an all-nighter after Osheaga so as to not miss our 6:45am flight the next morning. I can't tell you how weird it was and what kind of whirlwind it felt like. I came home Monday morning still thinking it was Sunday, and feeling like it was Sunday night. Just totally surreal, and the constant on-and-off napping between 3am and 3pm certainly didn't help anything coalesce.

I woke up around 1pm on Sunday, after everyone had already left for combinations of shopping and breakfasts. Eventually everyone was back for 3pm and we were able to make it outta the house in time for the 4:45pm acts. Unfortunately though, that meant missing The Ting Tings, as well as BEAST, who we felt like checking out too. No harm, no foul though, given how the rest of the day turned out.

Decked in shorts for the hot weather, a hoodie for the rain, and a t-shirt just to stay cool, I was pretty much ready for anything - until we got there and saw people walking back from the more forest-y stages (MEG and Kia) just covered in mud. And guess who decided to bring only one pair of shoes with him to Montreal? It didn't help that the weather couldn't make its mind up either - it rained heavily all morning, let up when we headed to the subway and the festival, got hot and cleared up for a little while, then the skies opened up and poured down on us just prior to The Arctic Monkeys' set. I dunno who was more disoriented after the weekend: me, or the weather forecast.

So as we walked in to the gates of Osheaga, we could hear "That's Not My Name" blasting over the speakers, signaling the end of that show. Making our way over to Vampire Weekend, we settled in far right...a little too far for my liking. Between the jaunty afro-pop I knew VW would pump out, the general laid-back nature of the headliners' crowds (and I was set to see a lot of acts on the headlining stages that day), and the text I received from my friend saying he was heading over to see Arkells, I got outta there before Vampire Weekend could even hit a chorus.

Arkells

These guys already blew me away with their Halifax Virgin Fest set, so I knew what to expect. Part of the reason actually that I initially wanted to see Vampire Weekend was that I knew what I'd be getting with Arkells: they only have one full disc out, so you're not gonna get much variance in their set lists. But given the brand of hard-charging rock and insanely-catchy hooks they showcase, I knew watching them again certainly wouldn't be a let-down.

The good thing about the Kia stage during the two-day festival was that it was never packed...sadly in some cases, as a lot of great up-and-coming acts (Woodhands, The Rural Alberta Advantage, Arkells, Winter Gloves, Hollerado, Amazing Baby) were being showcased on that very stage. That being said, it was easy to get up on the raised platform and secure a great view of the performers there.

(On a side note...it kind of amazed my friends and I how generally short those attending Osheaga were. At a lot of shows I've been to, you're lucky if you're a few rows back and aren't blocked by two or three people taller than you - and I'm six feet. At Osheaga, I felt like I was that tall guy getting into other people's ways, seeing as I almost never had my view of the acts obstructed by anyone taller than myself. Great for me...I dunno about anyone behind me though.)

One thing I noticed during the show was that aside from the rather large fellow with equally large sideburns, I may have been the biggest Arkells fan in attendance. I thought these guys might be a bit bigger Canada-wide, and it seemed like they might've had a better reception at Virgin Fest, so I'm attributing the lack of concert-goers to either the bigger draw of Vampire Weekend, or the fact they may not be quite as big in Quebec as they are in the rest of the country.

All that aside, they put on another great performance. There was the same intensity between bandmates, generally the same set list, some of the same gimmicks (getting everyone to finger-snap at one point, starting the "hey, hey, hey" chant before "The Ballad of Hugo Chavez," and the call-and-crowd-response of "punchin' in," "punchin' out" at the mid-point of show-closer "Oh, The Boss Is Coming.") and all the same lively rock featured on their stellar debut Jackson Square (review's coming soon) - though much less facial hair this time around, as the majority of the guys had either trimmed or completely shaved off their epic beards I'd seen them with a month before. Musta got itchy.

Off their extended rock-outs, clever improvs for (both!) times lead singer Max Kerman's mic became unplugged, and spirited chemistry between the quintet, it was a great start to the day for me. That's not even to mention the new song the group debuted, which I imagine is gonna be called "Country Boy" judging by the performance. It only reinforced the already-great songwriting coming from this Hamilton group, whose songs always seem to tell an interesting story. It's rock with substance.

Amazing Baby

...which is exactly what Amazing Baby isn't. Killing a half-hour between twin half-hour sets, we came back as this funny-looking troupe took the stage for one hell of a strange set. They were one of the few non-female-fronted groups at Osheaga with a lead singer bereft of an instrument - just him, his Von Zipper shades, and shirt un-buttoned halfway. (In trying to research the lead singer's actual name, I came upon old standby Wikipedia...which should slap a "citation needed" tag on Amazing Baby's page. Criticisms of being more concerned with their fashion than music should certainly be cited if it's gonna be included at all.)

Anyways, with that above sentence in mind, yes they had cool shades, and yes their guitarist had a translucent axe (rare as fuck evidently, seeing as Google Images doesn't even have a picture approaching what this thing looked like...pics up tomorrow though hopefully so you can actually see), but these guys put on a good show either way.

Back to their frontman though, he of no instrument. When you're swinging the mic around during songs cause you have nothing else to do during instrumental breaks, maybe it's time to learn guitar or something and add to the wall of sound these guys are capable of putting out. The incumbent guitarist definitely knew how to shred however, more focused on churning out a good tune than anyone else I'd seen to that point on the weekend. Judging from his horrible haircut, pubescent mustache, and ill-fitting tie-dye orange shirt, that see-through guitar of his might be the only thing he's focused on in life. Whoever wrote the Wikipedia entry on these guys definitely wasn't at the show on Sunday to judge their "sense of fashion."

But on the other hand, maybe that page is right. I mean, my first three paragraphs on Amazing Baby have barely mentioned the music. Maybe that makes sense. Pitchfork described them (quite positively) as basically ripping off groups like Led Zepplin, and not having a great sense of direction. On stage, they seemed a bit similar. Not much stood out about their set, other than they played really loudly, and you couldn't even make out any lyrics.

They're good enough on their instruments (those who actually played them in the group...okay, I kid, he was an alright guy) to make up for that fact, but they were certainly in the right place playing the Kia tent, where the vocals were by far the worst of anywhere at Osheaga - like, show after show, and evidently, day after day...no one even bothered to fix it it seemed. They had a few good tracks; one self-described and out-of-the-ordinary "thrasher" tune that went over well with some insanely-dancing fellows near the front, and "Bayonets" was definitely a stand-out, but given the fact I just spent five minutes looking up the difference between that song and their other single "Headdress," I'm not sure how these guys plan to be very memorable.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the show, but not even near the same way I did Arkells. This was just raw music being played loudly, albeit well. But that's all it was, nothing deeper, nothing "more." I'm still gonna get new album Rewild, just because I was intrigued at the very least, so look out for a possible review of that in the future for a more definitive look at Amazing Baby.

Rufus Wainright

We had time to kill after Amazing Baby's half-hour set, and settled down on a friend's blanket in view of Rufus Wainright's solo show on the secondary headlining stage. I mean, I personally like the guy's songs, and think he's a good performer (obviously he's doing something right to get top-billing at Osheaga), but the people I was with were just eviscerating the poor guy.

Yeah, he did seem real flighty towards the end, saying he had a bit more time to play than he thought, and sending an awkward well-wish to ailing Beastie Boy Adam Yauch, but the actual music still seemed solid. I certainly can't do an actual review though, as this was my "Elbow moment" for the day: an act I heard, but definitely didn't watch or even really pay attention to. Aside from "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk," I couldn't even tell you what else he played.

The Decemberists

Sike. Same kinda thing as Rufus and Elbow, but this time we were staking out our spot at the other main stage in anticpation of The Arctic Monkeys. Other than what we saw on the sole big screen and a few glimpses I caught of the impeccably dressed group performing opposite us, all I can tell you is that I recognised a few strands of "The Rake's Song." So...

The Pre-Arctic Monkeys Staking-Out-Our-Spot, Chillin, and Getting Wet Experience

...would be more appropriate. Though we got there before The Decemberists even began their set, we were still at least 10 if not 20 rows back from the stage, and that was more than an hour before the show. People were obviously quite dedicated. During the wait, our own little crowd did everything from bat around some beach balls, to start "Arc-tic Mon-keys" chants...during The Decemberists set.

I certainly didn't condone that, and even jokingly told off my sister when she started to get in on it. Unfortunately, the girl in front of us didn't know it was a joke, and whipped around quite quickly when she heard me yell "don't do that!" That was a fun thing to explain away, though it does make for good conversation. I at least know now the offended girl was from Ottawa. Yay? Anyways, the lesson is...have some respect for the other people performing. They have their fans, and your show isn't even on yet.

During our wait, the sky started to cloud over, and just let loose on us for a good 15 minutes. Luckily, our friend bought an umbrella earlier, and just about every fourth person in the crowd whipped theirs out too. Unfortunately, that made for a lot of collateral dripping, and not quite complete coverage for everyone. So I ended up with one arm completely soaked, a slightly moist hood, and a completely dry everything else. Yay. Miraculously however, the rain stopped right before Arctic Monkeys came out. God/Mother Nature has good timing.

The Arctic Monkeys

This is one of those bands I say I know of, and that I can say whether I like or not (I do), but I don't really know a ton of their stuff. I have two or three of their tunes, and know a good deal more from before, but it was just a matter of "they were the best people playing." I wasn't gonna watch Tiga, and though I don't mind Heartless Bastards, I wasn't gonna skip Arctic Monkeys' hour-and-fifteen-minute show for their much shorter half-hour set.

I hadn't seen any night-time shows on the main stages, so it was definitely a different experience for me. Great light show, expansive stage, a pretty loving crowd - it was all pretty tight, and I was excited for it. The one thing I noticed right off the bat was that Alex Turner's voice was very true live compared to the recorded version, so that was refreshing. And of course the vocals were much better on that Budweiser main stage than Kia's sorry excuse of a tent of a stage.

The second thing I noticed was the guitar work on their songs. Bands out of England seem to have this great way of playing and twisting their chords in uniquely expressive ways, giving a real feel to the songs that's seemingly lacking in some alternative music on this side of the pond. If you don't believe me, just think of Bloc Party and Muse aside from the boys in Monkeys. I'm telling you though, there were licks that sounded just downright evil. And I think it's great that they can do that - balance those hellish sounding guitar strums with Alex's night-on-the-town lyrics and eager cadence.

For some reason though, Arctic Monkeys slowed it down not once, but twice, with Alex even addressing the crowd and asking their permission if he could keep it at that lagging pace for at least one more. Of course we cheered and obliged him, but it was weird coming from a group that seems to operate much better at high energy. Another strange quirk was that they would announce the names of most of the songs before actually playing them, sometimes even saying what album it was off of. Next to no one else did at Osheaga, especially the other well-established acts.

Finally, there seemed to be a lot of finagling with the songs. They had a distinct style in the delivery, in the same vein The Stills did the day before. Each song would build and build and build to a crescendo, then they'd throw the false ending at you, elicit a big cheer, then jump right back into it and finish the tune off. It's good, and it keeps the crowd engaged, but when you do it song after song after song, it gets quite predictable and boring. There was also the fact that I could barely ever figure out when a song was actually done; The Arctic Monkeys are one of those bands that continue to tune and strum in between all their songs, so there was never really a sense of closure until they announced what they'd be playing next.

Anyways, again, I'm nit-picking, because I did enjoy the show. I was conscious that I was watching a performance the entire time however, which was kind of a bummer. You know you're having a great time when you're ignoring everything else and you become totally immersed by the act in front of you - it's quite possible that during the Monkeys' set, I was already planning what I'd be doing the rest of the night, and figuring out how to best pull my all-nighter. Head bobbing up and down the entire time of course, but still.

"I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" was certainly their best number, and had me moving and shaking the whole song. Other than that though, everything was like 6/10, 7/10 for me. Definitely better for those around me I'd think, but given how long they've been around, and the fact they haven't completely caught on and stuck with me yet, they probably weren't gonna do much in those 60 or so minutes to convince me otherwise. I say only 60 because we all left the set about 15 minutes early to get to our respective spots at our own weekend-closing shows. Everyone else headed to the adjoining stage to catch Yeah Yeah Yeahs, while I trekked alone to see...

Crystal Castles (say it with an epic movie voice-over voice...it makes the entire transition ten times cooler)

So yeah, Crystal Castles, who I was pumped beyond belief to finally catch live. This duo of Alice Glass and Ethan Kath have slowly grown on me more and more as the year's went on, picking up a great song by them here and there, until I had five or six absolute bangers by them that I'll probably never, ever get sick of. It was like a complete 180 for me going from Arctic Monkeys to Crystal Castles.

With the former, I didn't really care where we were standing, as long as I got up pretty close. For CC, I was there at least 45 minutes early, and after trekking through the whole day's worth of churned-up mud (I swear to God the stuff was at least 5 or 6 inches deep...only by the grace of God was I walking slow enough that my shoe got caught in the mud twice and I didn't take that dreaded extra step to leave my sock covered in regrettable muck), was able to secure not only a third-row spot, just left of dead-center, but with some gentle manoeuvering, a perch on the mud-less platform extending for a few feet in front of the stage. I was set.

Disappointingly, it didn't seem like the band nor its techs were. Watching them labour for a solid 40 minutes (we were getting antsy) on all the electronic equipment necessary for Ethan to craft a show worthy of their festival-closing spot was nerve-racking, as at one point, all four or five techs on stage crowded around one box and just started shaking their heads. There was one false alarm when a shaggy-haired and bearded guy with glasses came out, and in my fervor, I mistakenly thought he was Ethan. It didn't help that he was lazily smoking on a cigarette, only came out about half an hour after everyone else was already setting up, danced around a bit, and then played a few beats on the drums.

Anyway, my angst about the show was well-founded, knowing that they've skipped out on shows before when they've deemed the acoustics not up to par. The sight of all those techs looking worried was certainly not reassuring, and as the 9:45pm start time came and went, I wasn't the only one getting anxious. The lights would dim at some points, and the crowd would start cheering a bit, but given that the between-set music was still going, I don't know why they got excited. Eventually, the main tech up there grabbed the mic, took centre stage, and had us all cheering again for one reason or another. He just looked down at us and "said, don't cheer, I don't have good news."

By that point, I was mortified. Yeah Yeah Yeah's were already well into their set, and I was not ready to make the trek over, let alone find my firmly entrenched friends and sister, who had "sick" spots 10 or 15 rows back from the stage. The tech continued by thankfully telling us the set was not actually canceled, but that somehow, the duo had flown into Ottawa instead of Montreal, and was now driving the distance between. They were gonna be there, just later.

So again, we whittled away the time. I talked to some people, threw some guy's plastic bottle of beer he snuck in up and over my head to the rest of the crowd (he didn't want it anyways, I wasn't just being a dick), and actually had a good time listening to the between-set tunes, which the tech told us to relax and enjoy, as they were off his own iPod. To this hour, he played a really catchy and interesting instrumental electronic/dance/techno tune that I recognized, and even hummed yesterday, but that's been able to escape me all evening. Not even a perusing of Cut Copy and Hercules And Love Affair's myspace pages provided me with any relief, as I thought them the likely culprits. So if you were in Montreal, at Osheaga, on Sunday night, at Crystal Castles, standing right behind a guy in a navy hoodie bobbing his head to the catchy song coming out of the speakers, and you somehow know what it was...for the love of God, tell me. It's been killing me.

Anyway, the lights go off again, but this time, something strange happens: the music cuts out too. Could it be? Is it...the (real) Ethan Kath running out, grabbing the microphone, telling us they were there, and then manning his arsenal of synthesizers, effects buttons and whatever other 8-bit, sample-manipulating devices were stacked on top of that one poor table? Yes, yes it was. After him came out tour drummer Christopher Robin (until now I haven't mentioned how strange I thought it was that such an electro-heavy group like Crystal Castles had a live drum set...they make drum machines literally for that purpose...Kanye West made an entire album with that machine), and a few seconds later, from the depths of the backstage curtain, crawling along the stage floor like an incarnation of their "Black Panther," NME's Coolest Person of 2008...Alice Mothaeffin' Glass.

Now from there it's all a little blurry. I was so completely taken by the music and Alice's absolutely inexplicable, manical, possessed and outright awesome performance that I can't really give you specifics. I know a few things, more or less out of order, which I will put into list form for my enjoyment, and for your clarity:

• Alice grabbed a quart of Smirnoff vodka, took a swig of it, then passed it to the crowd, while walking back to the stage and chanting into her voice-altering microphone "share...share...share it"
• I don't actually know where Alice got the quart from...all I remember is looking at her one minute, then looking at her the next, and seeing the quart
• at one point, she rolled around the stage for a solid five minutes
• I now know why the cleaned the stage before the show
• during that time, she grated the mircophone against the stage's surface to make noises, and when she wasn't doing that, she put it up to the on-stage speakers just to generate feedback for the music
• she came down to crowd level, was held aloft by two guys from security, and started basically convulsing and yelping out lyrics at the same time, oblivious to those holding her, oblivous to the touch of dozens of fans groping for a piece of her, oblivious to everything but the music around her

...so if that doesn't give you an idea of the show, I don't know what will. Crystal Castles is equal parts calm (Ethan) and utter chaos (Alice). There's a few other points I have to make about her. She literally looks possessed on stage. She shrieks into the mic, and when she's not...she's yelling into it. Her eyes look absolutely dead. Like, they say eyes are the window to the soul. She's 1.) dead inside, 2.) has tinted eye windows, or 3.) actually did sell her soul to the devil, and is quite literally soul-less. Those are the only three explanations by the way.

She just seems completely unfazed by anything and everything around her. And to make that even stranger, whenever she walked up to Ethan for a whispered word into the ear about something, she held herself with unbecoming poise and sanity for someone who'd just been seizing on the stage and yelling near-gibberish. A conundrum of a woman if I've ever seen one. Other than singing, all I recall her saying was something about their flight from New York getting messed up, and her being glad to be in Montreal (I possibly made the second part up, she might not have even said that much.)

In regards to her vocals though, it was a wonder that you could even hear her really. I'm not sure if the microphone was broken, or if it was just the way Crystal Castles likes their shows mixed, but you could NOT hear any lyrics other than when Alice was just shrieking them at the top of her lungs. The broken mic was certainly a possiblity though. On top of everything else, Alice would just on to the drum set and start smashing the mouthpiece on the cymbals like it was a drumstick on a rope. It made perfect sense now why one of the techs repeatedly wrapped the poor mic in generous amounts of duct tape, so as to not let the cord rip out mid-set.

Now this all might sound like one complete shit-show of an act. Just an absolute mess. And it's funny, because it probably was. Ethan and Christopher did hold it together quite admirably though, and somehow Alice's tamer side let shine through that there might have been some calculation and awareness to her madness. The one thing I didn't get though was the guy beside me, he of the thrown beer. He was there with his girlfriend, he was certainly younger than me, but still 16-18, and seemed alright...until the show started and people started dancing and going crazy.

I already described the crowds in Montreal as being great. But this was the first time I'd ever felt even the hint of a push in the back. When Alice came down, everyone was pushing from behind to try and get closer to her. I frankly didn't mind at all, as long as they didnt' knock me off into the mud, and as that didn't happen, I was hunky-dory. Girlfriend-guy though was not faring so well. Someone was dancing aggressively beside me, and I didn't mind at all, but seemingly thi guy had had enough. He reached across me, grabbed him mid-jump, and told him to "just relax." Seeing the absurdity in front of me, I scoffed at his gall for trying to tell this equally young guy to "just relax" during easily the most electric show of my concert-going life. Dance on man.

But the guy didn't stop. Two minutes later, he was still dancing, and this time buddy did the same thing, and though I didn't hear specifics, I saw him put up one finger and go "one more time." Thankfully, nothing came of it, or I was going to step in, but if you're third row at a show, you should probably know what you're getting in to - and if not, then shut up, or stay home.

The show almost ended abruptly, with Ethan walking across the stage to a collapsed Alice and yelling "what the fuck?! they cut the sound!? - let's do one more song!" to the raucous cheer of those in the crowd. If anyone thought it was planned or staged, I certainly don't think so, especially with the trouble the band had already went through just to get there. Add that to the fact that Crystal Castles don't exactly seem the gimmicky type.

So one more song, and the best musical day of my life was done. I was off-the-rocker amped up afterwards, excited just to be alive, and so thankful for having seen Crystal Castles work their electronic magic. You'll notice I didn't name songs, and that's because: hell if I know what they played. I heard snippets of the songs I loved, and otherwise, they did their thing, and I happilly obliged. It was only afterwards that something (I actually forget now) was thrown into the crowd as a memento, and then the set list ripped off the stage by a tech and thrown to the people in front of me.

I've never been one at all to lug around a camera and take pictures as keepsakes to remember anything by, let alone concerts. Eager however to savour some memory of the awe-inspiring show, I asked the teens in front of me (in French of course) whether or not their friend had got the set list. Though they understood me, I repeated it in English, and asked if I could take a picture of it, just as my own personal thing. The girl turned around and proclaimed the above caption I wrote under her picture, to which I quickly responded "oh wow, I swear to God I'd never do that, I just want a pic," to which she kindly agreed.

To sum up that insane Crystal Castles show that night, I'm going to Einstein of all people. I've read he once said "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." In that way, Alice Glass probably does do the same thing during every show, but she knows damn well what the result is gonna be. People are gonna love it - and that night, I was happy to be one of them.

I have an excuse this time! I was actually out, watching real, live music. The Pack A.D. were playing Gus' Pub (as I mentioned earlier on here) last night - which I forgot was even going on until I got to work Monday morning. Could I scramble to find enough friends to go? Could I find out what time the show was? Could I figure out if there was cover? Could I survive going to what's sometimes one of the most hardcore punk venues in all of Halifax (not to mention already being in the deja sketchy North End of the city) dressed in my work-best tucked-in polo, casual dress pants, glasses and black dress shoes? Well, read on!

The quick answers though? Two. 10pm. $5. Wear layers and always have a pair of adidas in the car.

I had read earlier in the day Gus' is pretty cramped on the inside, and that may have been an understatement. There were, I dunno, eight or ten tables in the place, and half the bar was glassed off for people playing VLT's. For a mental picture, think of your favorite small bar...then slice it down the middle lengthwise. For an actual picture, well, this is pretty much what it woulda looked like from where we were sitting.

My friend and I got there early and waited for our third to show up. We flipped open an issue of The Coast to see it touting that night's particular show. While doing that, a girl came over and grabbed what we thought was an abandoned pitcher and more-empty-than-full glass, with my friend quipping that "I guess the table wasn't free," like we thought it was. It was only afterwards I looked over to where the girl settled back to her seat to across the bar, checked back in The Coast, and realized we had, in fact, stolen the headliner's table. Only on a Canadian indie-band bar tour everyone, thank you!

All that aside, The Superfantastics were the first openers that night. I've seen them once opening for The Constantines and The Weakerthans, and for a two-piece boy-girl band, they...well, they sound pretty much like what a two-piece boy-girl band would sound like if the girl was on the drums instead of lead vocals. She's a ferocious and precise drummer, cute in an alternative kinda way, and she seemed to be staring around for much of the set. Don't get me wrong, she still delivered a great performance, but it was almost like she wasn't even there during the actual songs. The between song banter between the two themselves, the crowd, and even with The Pack A.D. was good for a few laughs, and the music was happy indie pop-rock.

The duo really hit their stride at the midpoint of their set, then lulled a bit after vocalist and guitarist Matthew MacDonald switched his regular guitar over for something more surf-rock-y. They happened to kill the last song and left us admittedly hoping for more tunes in that vein, but it was solid either way. The acoustics and equipment are nowhere near extraordinary at Gus' Pub (could you guess? just by looking at the name?) so The Superfantastics definitely sounded better when I saw them at the bigger and better-equipped Palace, but nice opener nonetheless.

The Stance were up next, but I'll save you and I alot of time and suffice it to say neither my friends nor I were anywhere near impressed with them. Overall, they just sounded empty. I was gonna write the drums sounded empty...then I realized: so did the guitars...and so did the lead singer's voice. I dunno. It was like everything was just...there. I commented afterwards that they had a few good pieces, a few good parts here and there, but it never really meshed at all. They were just loud and basically "played their instruments," right down to the lead singer. I mean, here, check 'em out, maybe it was just us or the acoustics - and that's quite possible given that the crowd possibly maxed out during The Stance's show, then started to peel off one-by-one before and during The Pack's set. Personally though, I think that said more about The Stance having a lot more friends in Halifax turn out for their show than the Vancouver headliners did.

Speaking of them: they rocked it. I cannot stress that enough. I had been saying to everyone who was wondering what kind of show it was that they had a White Stripes-ish sound to them, given their blues-rock lilt. Little did I know that when we walked away that night, we'd be saying they were like a straight up cross between Janis Joplin and Stripes. If The Superfantastic's drummer was ferocious, then Maya on The Pack's drums was just hellacious. She was attacking those poor skins, looking out of control, but delivering pin-point hits every song.

The lead singer Becky had the aforementioned likeness to Janis Joplin, with a dark growl and gravelly texture to her voice, perfect for swamp- and blues-rock. The first few times I heard her, I was still debating whether or not it was a guy singing lead. During the show though, we didn't care that you could barely understand what she was saying for the first few songs; lyrics weren't the point here; jamming out most certainly was.

They had everything. Cavernous guitar solos, slides, stop-and-starts, false-endings galore. These girls obviously know what they're doing and have every trick down to a science. Not an off note, not an off beat, nothing. Just plain old in-your-face rock and roll. I kept looking back to see if my friends were enjoying it, because I'd shuffled up a bit to get closer to the action, so I was never really sure if the other two were into it quite as much as I was. The girls in front of me however I had no doubt about. I've frankly never seen such manic or enthusiastic dancing to rock, and believe me, if I was a little less self-conscious and a little more alchohol-enabled, I may have been right there with them.

The Pack's sound was infectious and I - along with most others when they announced they'd only be doing two more songs - didn't want it to end. Also, suprisingly, they didn't play "Making Gestures," the song that turned me onto them and fostered my White Stripes comparisons. If you read my Virgin Festival recap, then you'd know how egregious that kind of concert slight is to me, but this time...I frankly didn't care. They rocked my socks off with or without that one, and given the rest of their catalogue on display that night, I really didn't miss it. And neither did my friends, who actually thanked me for clueing them into the show that night. That's a great feeling as a music fan, sharing something you really like and finding someone else who appreciates it. The fact it was a live show and not a simple swap of mp3's just added to that.

The Pack A.D. plays New Minas tonight, if there's anybody willing to make the trek or who's already there. Otherwise, they're still on the rise on the national indie scene, and hopefully they'll be back here in no time. They've admittedly been touring non-stop. Check out their MySpace here, and their CBC Radio 3 page here.

three? let's make it four

some of my favorite Plaskett-y goodness to keep you going through this one:

Face Of The Earth - Joel Plaskett Emergency

Soooo, happy belated Canada Day. I really haven't been keeping up on here, but forgive me. IRL (in real life) I'm just too busy and having a pretty good time.

Anyways, yesterday marked my fourth Joel Plaskett show. He was playing a free one (and not headlining! wtf? how do you go from opening for Paul freakin' McCartney to not even headlining a Canada Day show in your hometown? go figure) at Alderney Landing, where I saw him play last summer. The barriers put us further back this time around, and the people sitting down from earlier shows in the day put us off the left and near the eight huge speakers on that side, so we didn't exactly have the best seats (stands?) in the house.

Some "fuck-you's" to hand out while I'm on the subject though. If you're old and wearing a jean jacket and sitting on a white lawn chair (that evidently by the end of the show I found out wasn't even yours?), you and your friend might wanna get up and either go to the back and just chill, or get out of the way. But, thank you ever so much for creating a 10-foot circle where no one was going near or around you guys, given the fact you smelled kinda bad and looked just a little more than a tad creepy. And thank you to my choice of standing that left me at some points almost in the laps of said guys.

But it didn't stop there. Token really drunk guy who's having more fun that anyone else is or should be having? You get one. Spraying the rest of your Faxe (yes, piss-like Faxe) beer on everyone around you was a real class act. So was calling over the tween to come and dance, then moseying your way over to the other group of teens (you were at least 19 remember) for the same purpose. You were good for a few laughs though: nothing was funnier than you grabbing the grey-haired man who tossed your then-empty beer can over the rails...and proceeding to seemingly whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and possibly kissing him sloppily on the cheek...more than once it looked like.

Finally, a big "fuck you" to the puddle I was standing near. I was splashed by beat-stomping feet on occasion, and you made me overly conscious of my un-pants-enabled legs for the entire show. Overall, not the most comfortable I've been at a concert...and I've been three-layers-soaked-to-the-bone-for-hours-upon-hours at The Rolling Stones, so well done.

With all bitching aside...the show was actually pretty bitching. Very similar to the set I saw of his at the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium last month, in terms of the songs he played, but he mixed up the order a bit. Some of the same banter was there, but he knew he wasn't playing to a captive, seated audience, so he kept it upbeat and succinct.

He sadly doesn't play a lot of Ashtray Rock anymore, which bums me out because that's when I really started obsessing about Joel's music. No "Face Of The Earth," no "Nothing More To Say" (aside from a depressing and acoustic turn he did with his father at the Cohn) and most definitely no "Drunk Teenagers," which I don't suppose he'll play at any more shows, possibly ever. He still plays "Fashionable People," but there's something slightly off about it, and it feels a tad stuffy and forced.

He did play many of his older ones though, and you can tell they're still his live staples; nearly everyone knew the words, and in Joel's loveable way, he joked about him not even having to sing anymore. For fun, the people I was going to the concert with put together a list of songs we thought he would/wanted to see him play, and luckily enough, we went about 7 for 8. He played most of the three-themed songs off his amazing new Three, and Rose Cousins and Ana Egge were there to add their catchy harmonies to the whole affair.

On a side note, the new stuff is admittedly less immediate, but they'll definitely grow on everyone and become great sing-a-longs like his other regulars. My only complaint is that along with the lack of immediacy, there's not much of a "rock" lilt to his music anymore; there's a lot of East Coast influence and everything from saxophone to trumpets, but none of that crunching guitar and soaring choruses. Joel's always been hard to class other than "singer-songwriter," and he became even more of an enigma with the concept-driven Ashtray Rock, but before that you could really hear his rock influences shine through, and he was much easier to pigeon-hole into genres. Now with the 27 songs off Three, he's all over the place, and while it works for most of it, there's definitely some filler in there, and some overall questionable choices of direction.

Back to the show, the closer "On and On and On" was interrupted by the Canada Day fireworks, and you could see people were torn between the band and the sky's sights. Even when Joel and The Emergency wrapped it up, there was a warm moment of them standing there watching the fireworks with the rest of us, bathed in blue light and the surrounding darkness, not rushing off-stage, and though a good five or six feet above us, down to our level of "spectators" at the sight of the colourful bursts of celebration.

The overall feel of the concert was strange, because with the combination of people who had been at the venue for the previous acts and others who were seated during the show, there didn't seem to be that common camraderie between everyone that really fuels a concert-going experience and usually justifies dishing out the dough to see a show instead of relaxing to the artist in the comfort of your own abode. Not one of the better shows I've seen (possibly the worst of the four based on atmosphere alone), but since it's Joel Plaskett, I really can't say anything too bad. The man is immune to my criticism.

...oh, and he could've dragged his poor, earless cat White Fang up on stage and did some Ozzy Osbourne-ish things to it and still would've received a good review from me for one reason: after the show and the fireworks, the crew started setting up for the follow-up act, but Joel stayed there, kneeled down on the stage, and signed autographs (on paper, shoes, phones and whatever else people could find) for a solid half-hour for an ever-increasing throng of fans, most of whom had to be high-school aged.

There were also times when people ran up on stage and had to be tackled and dragged off, with Joel quipping to security mid-song not to hurt them too badly. On another occasion, one particularly brazen girl snuck around the huge set of speakers, right past Peter Elkas and settling beside Joel during his encore, with Plaskett unfazed, commending the girl on her nice choice of shades. So I guess Joel Plaskett = consummate musician...but also, awesome human being. Can't wait for his next show.