we couldn't afford a cover artist, so we got my 6-year old nephew to do it

It's 7am on a Saturday, I just got up, and I don't feel like getting back to sleep. The working life is doing wonders to me. It's weird, but I think I could eventually come to enjoy it - which is the perfect sentence to describe Sunset Rubdown's music.

Sunset Rubdown is a Canadian group made up of five people (four of them unreferenceable as they don't even have Wikipedia pages - I mean, that's like you don't even exist, right?), including lead singer Spencer Krug, who splits time between these guys, Swan Lake, and his slightly more acclaimed - and certainly more popular - band Wolf Parade. You know, he's the guy with the strange and affected voice, whereas Wolf Parade's Dan Boeckner has the more straightforward-sounding one.

Introductions aside, if you know me, I like to work backwards: get the more recent album, and if I like the music, explore the back catalog. Thing is, I've had Sunset Rubdown's Dragonslayer for a little less than a year, and often, I tend to listen to a band's older stuff within a month of liking their newer offerings. Not so with Sunset Rubdown. Like I mentioned - this is weird stuff: heady lyrics, irrational progressions and song structures, and if you've ever heard the term "swirling rhythms", it had best have been about Sunset Rubdown's music, because I'm relatively sure they have the style trademarked. Due to all the unorthodox clattering Sunset Rubdown seem to do, I wouldn't blame you if you listened to either Dragonslayer or the here-to-be-discussed Shut Up I Am Dreaming (awesome choice of name if I may say so) and couldn't get through more than two songs.

Anyway, in usual fashion, I was turned on to this album by listening to CBC's Radio3. They occasionally play "Stadiums And Shrines II" off of it, which is surprising, because Shut Up I Am Dreaming came out in 2006, and R3 doesn't seem to stray too far from a playlist that's 95% newer music. I first heard "Stadiums And Shrines II" a few months ago, and got as far as finding the torrent for the album, but never decided to hit the download button. Dunno why. So I heard the song again yesterday and decided "to hell with it, I really haven't been listening to enough music lately, and I'd like something challenging". Luckily, the album didn't disappoint, and I had it on repeat all night. 

But I'm not here for the album review. I'm here cause I groggily got up to pee at 7am, and all I had stuck in my head, wriggling about like a musical earworm, was "I'm sorry/that your/mother died/...I'm sorry/that/any/body dies at all/these days". Now forgive the gratuitous use of forward slashes, but I couldn't think of any other way to textually present Spencer Krug's staggered delivery of that stanza. The words themselves may be poignant, and their presentation all the more impactful, but his tone is such that you can't quite take it too seriously. Unfortunately, it almost even comes off as mocking, but if you were to listen to the rest of the songs on any Sunset Rubdown - or even Wolf Parade - album (think "Grounds For Divorce" for the best example), you'd realize it's just his natural singing voice, and nothing is implied by it.

Sunset Rubdown - "Stadiums And Shrines II"

So yeah, the words really stuck with me, but so did the instrumentation. They made a great choice starting this record with "Stadiums And Shrines II", because it's one of the warmest tunes they've ever produced. Where "Idiot Heart" from Dragonslayer was their callous and drum-banging lead single ("I hope that you die/in a decent pair of shoes/you've got a lot more walking to do/where you're going to"), Shut Up I Am Dreaming's lead offering is sympathetic and - my God, is that a flute?

Honestly, drums and distortion aside, it sounds like a lead-in from medieval times, or even the ancient Greek figure Pan playing his wood flute in a low-slung forest. I mean, that's the kind of mental image it calls up for me, I dunno if that's strange, but whatever. The flute makes a few other appearances in-song, all of them welcome. Some piano even joins in. These guys will play anything (Pitchfork's review of "Idiot Heart": "...their trademark willingness to play anything that's lying around...") and their songs certainly showcase that. For example, the song following is "They Took A Vote And Said No" and it transitions from quite literally a sea shanty with a triangle tinkling in the background, to an outro with enough distorted guitar pounding it would make My Bloody Valentine slightly proud.

So if you can put up with that, some mind-bending lyrics, equally head-spinning and disorienting swirls of guitar, and a lead singer who could be providing voiceover for the weirdest character on a morning cartoon show, then I certainly encourage you to give Sunset Rubdown a listen. If you can't, then I've probably turned you off of them and I don't care and I'm gonna try and go back to sleep. I'm thirsty too. Ugh.

The Bedtime Playlist

mmm...album art?

I have to say I'm already hoping The Besnard Lakes Are The Roaring Night - the album pictured above, by none other than Montreal's husband and wife duo The Besnard Lakes - will make the Top 10 of this year's Polaris Prize, rewarding the best in Canadian music. I'm not here to review the album though, only the song that got me into the group and anticipating the above release, so forgive me for getting ahead of myself.

Some background before I start then. As I've said before, this blog is just as much about the intricacies and the various ways of discovering music as it is about the songs themselves. The Besnard Lake's "Albatross" fits in perfectly with that theme. I for one, can't fall asleep without music or the radio playing. For years, this used to be sports talk radio, but this year I started playing music on my laptop - and much like picking something good for taking a shower to, the Bedtime Playlist is a similar balancing act of music I enjoy, but that doesn't engage me so much that I can't get to sleep. That means finding a measure between the upbeat tune of The Weakerthans and the seemingly-too-subdued harmonies of Bon Iver and Grizzly Bear. 

I mention those three groups because I've playlists of all three, and usually I'll fall back on my range of playlists for bedtime music. Somehow, I strain so much to hear the quieter music of Bon Iver and Grizzly Bear that I can't just relax and go to sleep. The Weakerthans on the other hand, as I mentioned, produce lyrics and imagery so engaging that I can't properly clear my head enough for slumber. 

That leaves me with a lot of night-time listens to the xx (chronicled here for their great nocturnal-soundtracking), Broken Social Scene (whose expansive sounds and lush instrumentation provide a strange, "washed-clean" slate of a mind before bed), and The New Pornographers, for whom I can't really provide a back-up, but who just sound so great and have enough epic and slow-tempo numbers that they're passable as bed-going fare. You might think Radiohead and The National could slide in here and steal some plays, but to be frank, I've tried that route with The National, and after a few times, I found the music just too depressing for that kind of listening. Plus  anyone that feels like Thom Yorke crooning them to sleep with his detached and unhuman voice should re-consider what they consider is creepy and what's not.

So anyway, all that aside, my laptop's right there at my bedside. This also means that when I wake up to my alarm clock, I usually roll over, shut it off, and effectively hit the "snooze" button by turning on CBC Radio3's live stream and lying half-asleep in bed until I figure I have to get up (full disclosure: that's during the school year, when the first thing I have all day is an 11:30am class...doesn't work so well for the summer job that starts at 8am). Something like that went down in late January of this year, when I heard the most compelling thing in quite some time on Radio3. I had no idea what it was; I'd never heard it before, and it wasn't even similar to anything I had ever heard. I don't remember how exactly I came to find out the name of the track, but I think I was awake enough that I heard the host say something about the b-something lakes, and an albatross.

For my luck, I had no idea at the time who The Besnard Lakes were, how to spell it, and if the Lake was even pluralized. I did some thorough searching though, found the group's wikipedia page, and discovered they were from Montreal, and had already produced a Polaris Prize-nominated album, The Besnard Lakes Are The Dark Horse. The song was indeed called "Albatross", and though it took me a couple days to get that particular track (which I had glossed over earlier in the month when Pitchfork had given it a 7/10 in the tracks and singles section), I got their debut album instead and gave their spaced-out and lengthy jam-rock sound a good listen.

The Besnard Lakes - "Albatross"

The song on its own has to be my favorite thing from The Besnard Lakes, hands down. It combines so much of what they do, so much of their signature sound and style, with the immediacy and listenability of more pop-oriented music. It's the Lakes at their most focused, most emotional, and tightest, without compromising their unique musical identity. From the otherworldly clangs of those first few fuzzed-out guitar notes, to the cartoony "wooooo"s to Olga Goreas' unconventionally gorgeous voice, everything there is to love about the duo is on full aural display.

"Albatross" drops into the grandeur quicker than most other Besnard Lakes tunes, and when it slows down around the 2:40 mark, you think the best may have already come. Then Olga hits you with possibly my favorite line of the year: "and I have to admit/things got weird for a bit", followed by all the sounds mentioned above - plus an array of crashing cymbals - coming together once again in glorious unison to push the song to new heights. Once it's settled back down, it starts to carry a triumphant feeling, the vocals repeating "and I scream for you!/there goes my man".

If it all sounds a little strange, maybe it is, but the feeling in Olga's voice throughout is unmistakable: it's love, it's longing, it's a bit of sadness, and in the end, it's a veritable pride in the one you love. The lines are endlessly quotable and relatable, especially the first-half chorus of "you showed me so much", but also ones like "I wanted to help you" and the heartstring-tugging, "those days are never gone/wish I had your picture". I'm practically giving the whole thing away like candy on Halloween, but I think that alludes to my attachment and appreciation of "Albatross". Thought it may not help put me to sleep, it certainly speaks to me.

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.

what is that song?

Hopefully the post's title doesn't become a long-running gimmick - I hate not knowing what a piece of music is if I like it. This post however stems from a shopping trip to American Eagle (don't worry, I didn't buy anything) last weekend. It really serves two purposes that I'll elaborate on: 1.) the commercialization of indie music 2.) Wolf Parade

We'll get to Wolf Parade first, as it's ostensibly the easier issue to tackle. The Montreal group, fronted by now-one half of Handsome Furs (looked at here on WNTY here, here and here), Dan Boeckner, and now-Sunset Rubdown band leader (featured here), Spencer Krug, has been around long enough that it's one of those other groups I regret not getting into earlier. I've certainly tried to keep abreast of Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown since discovering them, but Wolf Parade's back-catalog is only something I've dabbled in conservatively. Again: mistake.

Wolf Parade is evidently the more exciting, engaging, alt-rock-centric precursor to both (major) offshoot groups it spawned. They mix Spencer and Dan's vocals interchangeably, and it's amazing how two people who are so outwardly different can have two similar and equally pained-sounding voices. When listening to a Handsome Furs or Sunset Rubdown album, it can get tiresome listening to each guy holding his own for a full length, but interspersed with each other, it becomes much more bearable, and even inviting to listen to. It's also striking how aside from slow marches like "Dinner Bells," Wolf Parade is able to consistently contrast the guys' dullish voices with such upbeat instrumentation.

Anyways, I've known about Wolf Parade for over a year now, but I have to admit to just listening to their debut album, Apologies To The Queen Mary this morning. How I got around to that however is where the story lies. Chilling at American Eagle on a shopping trip, I was greeted with the sounds of Spoon and other indie legends, as well as a few up-and-comers I all recognized. That is, until a certain song came on, and the voice sounded extremely familiar, though the song did not. I knew it wasn't Interpol, though the sadness in the voice echoed lead singer Paul Banks' delivery - and of course Joy Division's Ian Curtis if we're playing that game.

Now, most people who I really like, I can pick out their music quite adeptly if I've heard enough of it. Given that I've heard three album's worth of Dan and Spencer's music away from Wolf Parade, it was a bit disheartening that I had to wait for the TV screen announcing American Eagle's playlist to tell me that I was, in fact, listening to "Shine A Light" by Wolf Parade. Upon realizing it was a Wolf Parade song, I was instantly struck by the catchiness and pure feeling captured in the song, even over the speakers at a retail outlet. Now, Handsome Furs and Sunset Rubdown both feature their own share of emotion, but it's sometimes convoluted, and in Sunset Rubdown's case, downright weird and indecipherable. Wolf Parade offered something more palatable, accessible, and ultimately, pop-ish.

(This is the part where I post my own mp3 link, or one from hypem, but as luck would have it, basically every single one of Wolf Parade's songs has been removed from hypem's database, which means Wolf Parade really doesn't want their music being shared that way...regardless, below is a link I got through hypem from a post on hearya.com, so credit goes to them)

Wolf Parade - Shine A Light

Now the second issue at hand. The commercialization and mainstreaming of indie. I'll keep this as short and sweet as possible, though an entire essay could easily be written about the topic. Kids, teens, young adults, and even twentysomethings tend to love indie music. They also tend to shop at the same stores. Maybe it's just that I heard Wolf Parade playing in an American Eagle, which is the poster-store for largely dressing like a trust-fund douchebag, even though you may not be anywhere near that well-off. (Full disclosure: Yes, I have pieces of clothing from American Eagle. I certainly don't shop there regularly though, and I have a certain self-consciousness about me when I am looking for clothes there.)

Back to the music however. It makes perfect sense to play music that your shoppers would like. But when you think about the kind of aesthetic and corporate image American Eagle has, it would seem that getting played there would fulfill every criteria of "selling out," whether by the band's design or not. Where, especially in a realm like indie culture, selling out and authenticity are always at the helm of current issues, you have to consider being irked a little bit by the whole thing. "Indie" itself is derived from "independent," as in the record labels that went their own way and did their own thing, instead of following suit (and suits) with the major record labels. Such a fierce and ingrained sense of independence breeds a mistrust for mainstreaming and selling out, while maintaining an undeniable emphasis on authenticity. Plainly and simply, it just doesn't feel authentic for American Eagle to play Wolf Parade.

Whether or not that's a harsh criticism of American Eagle is up to the individual, but take it for what you will. But like any other company, it will cater to what the majority wants, and that requires constantly changing your stance on something. Indie is "in" right now. If country somehow made a huge leap to the mainstream and dominated in sectors like indie is doing currently, I'm sure American Eagle would be playing the hell out of that too. But for now, indie feels like it's mine and ours, so when you see corporations pimping it out, you have to take it a little personally.

That being said, all thanks to American Eagle for playing that Wolf Parade track and igniting an interest in me for them. So what am I trying to say here? I don't know.

The New Pornographers | Top 15 Songs

I feel kinda cheap, because I've only just gotten into The New Pornographers, but I have to say they're already one of my favorite bands ever. I've told many already that out of their 40+ song catalogue, there's only a handful I actually don't like, and their Mass Romantic and Twin Cinema albums are safely nestled in my list of all-time favorites.

Unfortunately, these guys never tour with the full complement of performers, because as a side project and "supergroup," the individual parts are so busy with their own primary musical ventures that they don't have the time to get on the road together. Add that to the fact that they haven't put anything out for two years, and count on the chance they probably won't ever again, I'm pretty bummed that I got in on the phenonmen that is The New Pornographers so late.

All that aside however, there's still room to celebrate the absolute musical genius that is this band. Again, it's very hard for me to attach a genre to their music, because there's bits of folk, rock, pop, twee and damn near everything between that goes into every one of their four musical trips disguised as albums. In a tip of the hat to that, my Top 15 includes at least one song from each of those compilations, and not just out of necessity; The New Pornographers may have had one of the best debut albums ever with Mass Romantic, but the quality surely didn't stop after that, and every album has a slew of hits you can listen to again and again.

Just a couple notes before I get started on the list.

- The band evidently writes all the songs and only then decides who sings the vocals. When you consider that any of these brilliantly-written and eternally-poignant lyrics could have been sung by either the likes of Neko Case, AC Newman or Dan Bejar, it just adds to the happenstance aspect that goes to make The New Pornographers such a pleasant breath of fresh air and innovation.

- The New Pornographers have an astonishing knack for crafting almost perfect gems of songs. Nothing is too short, nothing is too long, and there's rarely ever a lull in a song let alone a full album. It's a shame more groups don't follow their example - but then again, they wouldn't be so special if everyone was as capable as they were.

- I'm not posting links to any of the songs in case I get another one of those annoying crackdowns/post deletes, but the majority should be easily accessible on hypem, and even moreso at your local record store. On to the list:

15. | "All For Swinging You Around" | Electric Version | With all the above being said, I do list Electric Version as my least favorite of the four NP albums. I don't know why that is, but they just didn't showcase all the same things on Electric Version that made me fall in love with their unique brand of music on the other three releases. That's not to say there isn't still good music; there most certainly is, and "All For Swinging You Around" is one of those highlights. Neko Case's voice is (as usual) put to good use, and the song starts with a flourish reminiscent of The Weakerthans' more upbeat numbers. A stranger track in that the chorus is where the music actually lets up a bit and gives you a rest to digest what's going on, but no less a great song.

14. | "My Rights Versus Yours" | Challengers | Challengers overall for me was a bit of a slower album, and a little more mature-sounding, so "My Rights Versus Yours" reflects that a little bit. As opposed to the previous tune, this one begins slowly and builds with the chugging guitar going at it bit-by-bit, the "oohs" picking up in the background, and Neko joining in to sing with who I think is AC Newman (I say that because I'm pretty sure Dan Bejar's voice is a little weirder - a bit nuanced and even lispy). There's a yearning to "My Rights Versus Yours" and almost a melancholy that's not there with the more excited-sounding Pornographers' tunes.

13. | "The Body Says No" | Mass Romantic | Part of this entire list, let alone the order I'm placing these songs in, is a bit haphazard. It's hard to say which of The New Pornographers' songs are really that much better than any of the others, so in going through my iTunes library, I picked the titles I knew I loved the most, and then threw them into a playlist of their own. I'm pretty sure I know what the top of the list is going to come out like, but in a testament to the overall quality of their work, "The Body Says No" could easily be in someone else's Top 5. It's insanely catchy (I've went entire days repeating "man, can you beliiiiieve?/that she didn't need meeee/any more than I, needed her too?"), inexplicably meshing given all of its differing instrumentation, and as up-and-down of a journey as the band can give you.

12. | "Sing Me Spanish Techno" | Twin Cinema | Never judge a song by its title. Even though the Pornographers are one of the very few "indie" bands that actually titles their songs based on actual lyrics in the songs (I'm looking at you Fall Out Boy/Panic At The Disco), I thought this track would be an exception. Go figure, it's not, and as one of the myriad hooks in "Sing Me Spanish Techno," it strangely works. In reference to those hooks though, there's everything from "listening too long/to one song" to the guitar itself providing rhythms that just latch onto your brain and won't let go. An easy example of how the group can craft something so likeable out of something so seemingly benign.

11. | "Challengers" | Challengers | One of the more restrained NP songs out there, Neko Case puts on probably her most underrated performance as a member of the group. Whereas she's usually yelping and eccentric (all in a good and likeable way of course), "Challengers" provides her with a chance to flex the more mellow pipes she went on to showcase in this year's acclaimed Middle Cyclone, her most recent solo effort. "Nah-nah-nah"s and "oohs" abound here, and the track is stripped down to a bit of guitar and an uncharacteristic lack of percussion, but the vocals more than make up for that void. It's heartfelt, and would've been the perfect album-ending number had they chosen to place it as such. Not just for Challengers, but if you listen closely enough, maybe even The New Pornographers career together as well.

10. | "The Fake Headlines" | Mass Romantic | As probably the third New Pornographers song I'd ever heard, I was suprised at how much this song spoke to me. And as one of the few in their catalogue with a false ending, it wasn't just the words themselves that appealed to me. As the shortest of these 15 tunes at 2:46, it does leave you wanting a little bit more - not desiring a little more, because its satiating enough - meaning you wouldn't mind it going a little longer. It's straightforward while still giving off the heartfelt vibe of someone left to linger in their sorrow. Though instead of wallowing in that sorrow, he decides to write "the catchiest words I could find." If only every break-up sounded so good.

9. | "Mutiny, I Promise You" | Challengers | This on the other hand was one of the first two songs I'd heard by NP - I can't say definitively which was the actual first one, but this could've been it. Though the rest of the song may not be quite as engaging as that chorus, the echoing going on once the latter hits makes me reminisce about elementary music class, and the guitar blasting away back there is as good as any modern rock song's. When it slows down for a moment around the 2:30 mark, it comes back and hits you at full-steam within a matter of seconds, and reprises itself with a new vigour. Though the lyrics may be a tad on the ridiculous side, it's certainly more fun to decipher into your own meaning than other more sparsely worded odes to abstraction.

8. | "All The Old Showstoppers" | Challengers | For as much as I didn't think I liked Challengers in context with the other NP albums, it's got just as many tracks on here as Twin Cinema - but that may be because it wouldn't make sense to create a Top 15 of just Twin Cinema and Mass Romantic tracks (just kidding, it's all great). There's a rustic quality to "All The Old Showstoppers" that harkens back to a traveling band at a country fair (maybe it's that jangling guitar), seemingly only lacking someone playing that classic jug. Though there's persevering reference to "numbers" throughout, there's everything else from princesses to paupers to grab your attention and make for a fun little jaunt through that yearly tri-country affair.

7. | "The Laws Have Changed" | Electric Version | As much as I love Neko Case and her otherworldy vocals, a surprising number of songs on my Top 15 don't feature her predominantly. I guess that speaks to the great balance of The New Pornographers, and proves that they're so multi-faceted that it doesn't really matter who's singing those lyrics, as mentioned at the outset of this list. Neko and AC split the duties on this one to my knowledge, and do a swimming job of it. Not only that, but AC's vocals seem to be drowned a bit, while Neko's are presented naked and without filter, a further testament to the myriad ways in which NP can present their perfectly crafted musical pieces.

6. | "Twin Cinema" | Twin Cinema | The title track does well to set the mood for a great NP album, all in a concise 2:59. The pitchy guitar right off the bat, the louder-than-usual percussion, and impassioned vocals all make their debut, laying down a tone that's carried out well throughout the rest of the compilation. There's a rare breakdown just about halfway through, where the singing and instruments both slow it down a tad, but don't let that fool you - they're right back at it in a minute, setting the table perfectly for probably the most critically acclaimed album offering from The New Pornographers.

5. | "The Bleeding Heart Show" | Twin Cinema | This is where it starts to get really hard, and the order starts to matter that much more. "The Bleeding Heart Show" hints strongly at how Challengers ended up being mood-wise, but it was a departure at that time for Twin Cinema I'd say. It's got a bit of that heartstring-tugging feeling that's so prominent on NP's final album, but which isn't really there on the more upbeat and outright fun Twin Cinema. Then at exactly 2:40 in, the whole song switches it up on you, and comes around with the most damned triumphant showing from not only The New Pornographers, but possibly any song within the last 10 years (since everyone seems to fond of doing those decade-ending lists right about now). It's no wonder the University of Phoenix uses "The Bleeding Heart Show" in their ads; I'd go to university in freakin' Chechnya if they blasted this song on campus every morning. For as much as I may have written, you really just have to hear this one. It's uplifting, moving, and everything you'd be pleasantly suprised to find out The New Pornographers are too.

4. | "Slow Descent Into Alcoholism" | Mass Romantic | It's quirky, it's fast-paced, it's about drinking. I could just finish this particular review with that singular blurb, but it deserves so much more. The vocals are dragged out in the catchiest of ways, there's the triad of choruses that NP does so well, I'm pretty sure there's some brass involved, and the harmony between the male and female singing is an underrated aspect that makes this ditty one of my favorite. Around 2:40 (again?) the song takes on a bit of a different flair, but this time becomes only more fervent and the instrumentation that much crunchier, before it stops for a split-second and proceeds to blow up in your ears. The vocals start to lean to the visceral side, and then it's over just as quick with a few "uh-huh"s. Uh-huh indeed.

3. | "Mass Romantic" | Mass Romantic | Who does great title tracks? The New Pornographers obviously do. "Mass Romantic" is like the mission statement for their careers. It's a bit unconventional, it's unmistakably Neko Case, the lyrics are as non-sensical and fun as they get, and the instruments are banged out in a garage band-ish way The Strokes popularized around the same time, albeit in a decidedly more lacksadasical and lo-fi way. "Mass Romantic" is bursting with exhuberance, and if there's any better track to get you in the mood for a good listening session with one of Canada's best supergroups (we do tend to have a lot), there may not be a better place to start than their first - discographically speaking that is.

2. | "Use It" | Twin Cinema | I lied earlier. "Use It" is in fact the first New Pornographers I remember hearing. As the theme song for the first few seasons of CBC Televison's The Hour pop culture show, I'd been unwittingly listening to one of the band's best tracks night in and night out, rapt by the feverish drumming, poignant piano and ever-so-distinct guitar. When "use it toniiii-iiii-iiiight" closed out the show's intro, little did I know just how great the rest of NP's songs were - I just knew that that song was some damn catchy. Unfortunately, I never really acted on those feelings until this summer, but I can say without hesitation that I was incredibly dumb to wait this long. Even when a friend played NP's stuff for me last summer, I kept going back to "Use It" over and over again. I think back then I thought they were almost too diverse and "all over the place" for me, but as my tastes have solidified a bit, and my thirst for Canadian music increased, I've had the hindsight to dive into a great catalogue that features "Use It" as one of its best tracks. By the way - any song that states "two sips from the cup of human kindness/and I'm shitfaced" in a totally un-ironic way, definitely has my stamp of approval.

1. | "Letter From An Occupant" | Mass Romantic | A brief riff, and you jump right into possibly the best Neko Case vocal performance ever. She has a brilliantly unique voice and delivery, and nowhere is it showcased any better than on "Letter From An Occupant." There's a shrill and campy quality to it that would make most other artists cringe to reach, let alone showcasing it on a song so well-crafted as this. I'm sure many listeners may even cringe at the quirkiness of Neko's voice here, but for anyone who truly likes her or any of the Pornographer's work, "Letter From An Occupant" has to be the epitome of the band firing on all cylinders. There's a bubbling guitar line through the break of the song, pinpoint drumming throughout, and even the infrequent and faint exclamations you can hear in the background sound so authentic you'd think it was those in the studio at the time whooping at how well the whole piece coalesces. There's virtually no weak points, and I'll be damned if this tune doesn't stick in your head for more than a day or two. As the best New Pornographers tune, you should expect no less.

Handsome Furs - "Face Control" review

yes, that's a real, purchased CD...whoa

This review starts with HMV. If you ever want some music, but don't actually want to find it and buy it, it's your kinda store. I went in looking for Japandroids a couple months ago, and after two or three trips plus a couple phone calls, all I ever heard was that the store had the vinyl of Post Nothing, but not the CD. I dunno who was stupider, the guys there who never knew/never told me the band was never going to put out a CD, or me for only bothering to find that fact out a few weeks after my search started.

Needless to say, when I went looking for Face Control, they didn't have it. Kudos to them for ordering it in for me quite promptly, but still, the multiple trips isn't what I look for when I'm buying music.

That aside, the real impetus for buying this album was Handsome Furs' great performance at Virgin Fest in Halifax earlier this month. After quickly browsing Pitchfork's review, I decided it was worth it to buy the album and check it out myself. The packaging was of course neat, if the CD itself wasn't a little hard to locate and slide from its delicate pouch (which valuably had the tracklist printed on it...creative, but not necessarily logical). So I popped it in and listened to it on my long-ish commute home. This was last week, and between my desire to review the album over the last few days and the unforeseen dead battery of my mp3 player this morning, I think I got four or five listens to thing in that time.

What I can draw from all of it is that perspective has a lot to do with things. Albums themselves are alot like singles really, in that sometimes you'll hear something and go "whoa, I need that, that's awesome" and just put it on repeat for days. Other times, you'll know right away something isn't to your taste, and you probably won't give it another chance.

To be honest, my first listen to Face Control had me fall somewhere right in the middle. The duo (of Wolf Parade's Dan Boeckner and his [very hot {buy the CD for the liner's topless pics...I'm serious}] wife Alexei Perry) really know how to market themselves, because other than their earlier work and their great live show, I really only knew two singles off the album, and one of them was much better for me than the other. So kudos to them as well, for enticing me to dish out $22 for 12 songs-worth of album on the strength of two songs and a concert.

By now, I know this review might be a little like "Cannot Get. Started" off HF's debut album Plague Park. My apologies, so I'll get to it. The album has grown on me more every listen. I've picked up on little nuances, and I've also come to realize that sometimes an album that has a lot of the same sound isn't always all it's cracked up to be. The first listen, I couldn't even distinguish when one song started and the other began. All the same distorted and droning guitar, slaps, drum machines...they all just flowed together, with nothing markedly standing out from the rest. This is strangely an album where it doesn't pay to listen to it back to front, the way most LP's are supposed to be structured.

So I threw the thing on shuffle today. And lo and behold, the album had a completely different sound. There was some variety, and it wasn't all just one melting pot of songs. There's still the same structure for about 10 of the songs (intro, verse, verse, solo, verse) but you can start to pick out the differences when the tracks are out of order. To go back to my first point about an album being like a song, it really is that strange macrocosm. You look for that nice slow intro, a few good songs to pick it up, that middle section that really establishes the album, maybe a little lull or some weaker tunes, a song or two that hits it out of the park, and maybe a slow finish to wind you down. I can't help thinking of a batting order in a baseball game in terms of setting the table in that same way.

And I looked for that with this album. That middle section is definitely there with lead singles "All We Want Baby, Is Everything" and "I'm Confused," and the other elements are there in bits and pieces, but there's really not that variety in sound and even soundscapes that you expect other albums to have. Even when someone like Joel Plaskett does a concept album, there's still a lot of variance between tracks. Maybe it's the fact there's only so much two people can do with the music, but I found Japandroid's twosome to be varied enough in it's rhythms and song structures to keep me rapt from front to back on their release. At some points I know I definitely yearned for Handsome Furs to add a real drummer and see where it could go, but no chance of that realistically happening.

Boeckner's voice is as yappy as the dog on the album cover, and the pain in his voice is palpatable when he yelps out his lyrics. There's definitely some duplication and filtering going on, but it's not over the top and it doesn't really hurt the delivery at all. It seems hidden under the rest of the music, but the simplicity of his lyrics still manages to help them shine through. Another aspect I found, that's quite hard to put into words, is that the music seems very closed in.

I mean, don't get me wrong, the band's a hell of a live show, but it's like they recorded the album in a little box, with all the sounds bouncing off of each other, and that constant drone in the background. Again, it's not a knock on it, because I love that kind of music, but for 12 songs, it can get kind of monotonous. You get the feeling you just want one of the songs to explode, Dan's voice to rise above everything, the drum slaps to crash down, and for the band to deliver some knockout punch that never seems to come. "All We Want..." comes closest to fulfilling that promise, and it's apt to be firmly entrenched in your head with it's shrill synth and talks of building a heaven...but you can't help but feeling there's that next level the duo could reach.

Many of the songs overall have a really diverse feel to them. "Officer of Hearts" seems like it could've been the featured beat on a mid-90's West Coast gangsta-rap album, while a lot of the other tunes have feelings of country, dance and Dinosaur, Jr.-flecked noise rock - sometimes all at once. I was quick to describe their live show as a band combining equal dashes of dancefloor-ready synth and drum machine with distorted indie rock, but without those huge speakers and Alexei's spirited interpretation of her cold and metallic instruments, those sounds seem a little lost on the album itself.

Now this probably comes off as a pretty hard review overall, but that's not to say there aren't highlights. At least half the songs have a good mix of shout-along verses, rousing breaks and grooving beats. There's a harpsichord-ing instrumental jaunt on the quite-short "(White City)." Tunes like "Evangeline" and "Thy Will Be Done" will make you beg for more in-your-face Handsome Furs, and "Talking Hotel Arbat Blues," funky name aside, has to be the most fun on the whole album, from the chugging backbeat to the perfectly messed-up stadium-ready guitar. "Nyet Spasiba" is another one I would've liked to see the duo build on through the album, with some real excitement brewing during the track. Handsome Furs certainly have pop sensibility, and they're all the better for it when they decide to employ it.

Maybe it comes back to perspective again. I have to catch up on my Wolf Parade, so I'm not sure if this marks a sharp detour from Dan's work with that critically-acclaimed and well-loved group, but I'm not sure if he's breaking new ground here. I'd love it if Handsome Furs could step out of their comfort zone, experiment a bit, and churn out something unexpected. Nothing really jars you out of the dark and heavy haze of the overbearing percussion of the album. A guitar stab here and there is about all you get.

Who knows, maybe this is experimental and different for some people. It just isn't that way for me though. With all that said however, I still love Handsome Furs, can't wait to see them in concert again, and look forward to their next album. Now excuse while I go find that album liner...

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.

There's no one I quite enjoy more live than The Weakerthans. Granted, I've only seen them twice, but the first time, I fell completely for the sincerity of their music, and the second time - if not for the three girls and one guy who insisted on singing 80% of the songs, off-key at that - it just re-affirmed the love they have for their music and the art of performing it.

Their lyrics are relatable, and you believe every word that comes out of John K. Samson's mouth. He's so coy on stage, and when he smiles, it's warm and genuine. And smile he does on stage, quite a bit actually. The Weakerthans are a group who take what they do very seriously, but you can see that at the same time they love doing it more than anything.

The songs have a lot to do with everyday sort of stuff. "Civil Twilight," their biggest hit, relates the story of a bus driver missing someone he loves. But the nostalgia for that person is mixed with the benign-ness of the conductor's afternoon commute, all in the upbeat tempo that you wouldn't expect from a song with that sort of subject matter. "Sun In An Empty Room" details leaving an apartment full of memories; it would've been perfect for the last episode of Friends if it didn't have such a happy sway to the whole thing. That's another thing about The Weakerthans: they make uplifiting, toe-tapping, hand-clapping music from seemingly the saddest of situations.

My personal favorite is probably the most driving tune off most recent album Reunion Tour. "Retail Surplus Value" clocks in at a very short 2:38, but there's nothing wasted in there. Samson tells the story of someone who apparently went on a bit of a bender, then gets to work only to find out the company's not doing so well, and that he's being fired. Sounds pretty unfortunate, right? Again, you'd never tell from the musical arrangement. The Weakerthans will always amaze me with the way they seamlessly weave together enticing indie rock with poetry straight from the heartbroken journals of a 30-something urbanite.

Of course, I'm not quite there yet, but in about 10 years I know what record I'll be spinning when I'm sitting in my empty apartment after my most recent break-up.

Check out "Retail Surplus Value," but most importantly, get out there, immerse yourself in The Weakerthans' inspiring catalogue, and buy Reunion Tour. I promise you won't regret it.