out out out out out out out out out

watch out

This could be a first. Look up Alberta's (best? only?) electro-outfit "Shout Out Out Out Out" on hypem. (Here, I'll save you the time.) Didn't really find what you're looking for, right? Now look up "Remind Me In Dark Times." (I'm so nice to you.) Still nothing? Darn. I think for the first time, I'm posting a song that has yet to be shared on the whole wide interwebs. It's also almost 9 minutes long, so start listening now.

Shout Out Out Out Out - Remind Me In Dark Times

This was a tune that I put in heavy rotation in the strangest of ways this summer. I had a government job, meaning the only thing I could listen to on my desktop was CBC Radio3 podcasts. "Remind Me In Dark Times" was charting on Radio3's Top 30 countdown back then, so I would download the condensed podcast whenever I wanted to hear this, skip ahead to the part where it started (and sometimes listen to the Junior Boys track right before it) and then I'd backtrack and listen to the whole thing again once it was done. The great thing about songs over 8 minutes -- especially electronic ones? If they're good in the first place, they're so long that by the time they're done, you wouldn't get sick of them if you listened again.

Anyways, I'm super-tired, overstuffed from supper, and I'm rambling/not making the best points here. So let the song ride out, in all its awesome, sinister vocoded-ness. And remember who sent you.

Buy Reintegration Time here: Amazon

Sunday Night Spotlight | No. 3 | (on a Tuesday)

your guess is as good as mine

Little Dragon is a Swedish pop group. Among other things I've professed my love for on here, European sugar-pop is probably my biggest guilty pleasure of any. It makes no sense to me: I hate things that sound like the 80's. I hate pop music (in its current state). But I love Swedish people. Okay, I've only ever seen one Swede in my life that I know of, and that was Lykke Li. But I imagine they're all just as cool as her. I'm extrapolating here. Either way, Little Dragon are at least deserving of a Sunday Night Spotlight -- even if it is Tuesday.

They make slightly downtempo and dreamy pop, and lead singer Yukimi Nagano (yes, half-Japanese, half-Swedish), sounds eerily similar to Lykke Li, which is probably why I like Little Dragon so much in the first place. The quirky instrumentation is definitely there, mixing slippery drums with synthesizers, whistle noises, and even one song seemingly sampling that noise Mario made when he jumped up. Yukimi's flighty voice is the perfect compliment to all the above, delivering an airy accompaniment in cutely endearing English. There's so much summer in recent release Machine Dreams that it's a shame it just came to this side of the ocean in the fall.

Little Dragon - Never Never

"Never Never" is probably as downtempo as Little Dragon actually gets, but it still carries with it a bit of swagger, lilting along on the strength of the drum hits and Nagano's perfectly up-and-down, side-to-side vocals. It has a bit of a lounge-y feel to it in the verses, but never feels old or staid thanks to smile-inducing bridge and chorus, with its synthesizers working on overtime to produce the desired pick-me-up. When you listen to a song like this and call it "pop," you're ostensibly putting in it in the same dimension as the tunes you hear when you turn on the radio. But all you hear on the dial is a bastardization of the genre -- Little Dragon delivers pop music with a retro vibe, and in the way it's supposed to be heard.

Little Dragon - Swimming

"Swimming" on the flip-side is Little Dragon at its quirkiest. "ooooh-oooh"s abound, and the simple piano chords lay down the basis of a boy-girl story -- told on top of a tune you could easily imagine soundtracking a silent film, at the part where the couple-to-be is running around the park, playing a most-flirtatious round of hide-and-seek, peeking out from the trees just in time to see their crush and run off to their next hiding spot. (Wow, if that's not evocative enough - whether good or bad - I don't know what is. Try imaging Charlie Chaplin and seeing the whole thing in black-and-white and that might help a bit.)

Yukimi is good at some juxtaposition of sultry and kooky, her voice emoting both at different times, with the aide of that complimentary instrumentation. On top of "Swimming" and "Never Never," there's a few other tracks from Machine Dreams that border on dream-pop, thanks to their deft use of atmospherics and space. It just goes to prove that what you don't use is just as important as what you do -- silence is not nothing, it is simply the absence of sound, and sound and silence have to work in an effective tandem to make music truly great. Little Dragon know when to carry on a beat, when to cut it short, when to change it up. Sometimes they may over-indulge, like the "why'd they do that?" break on "Looking Glass," but largely, Machine Dreams is an enjoyable album, full of everything there is to love about 80's-tinged European pop music at the moment.

Buy Machine Dreams here: Amazon

LCD Soundsystem

I fucking love LCD Soundsystem. I'm just putting that out there. My dad can't stand them. My roommate complains about me playing my "shitty" music whenever I put them on in the car. I can't really find many people I know at all that like them, let alone as much as I do. I don't understand it. There's nothing particularly offensive about their sound. It's punk- and disco-inflected dance music -- without the over-aggressiveness of some strains of punk, and borrowing from disco influences in an almost pretentious fashion (I'm not even joking: they literally have a song called "Yeah [Pretentious Version]").

LCD Soundsystem - Tribulations

Band front-man/lead singer/DFA Records boss James Murphy is the essential cog to LCD Soundsystem, with his matter-of-fact delivery and stunning knack for turning what are seemingly monotonous subject matters and beats into minutes-long opuses on life and death and everything in between. Obviously, he crystallized the latter pinpoint-perfectly on top-ten-track-of-the-last-10-years "All My Friends," but the guy's been doing it with his cohorts in LCD Soundsystem for years in one way or another. Their 2007 album Sound Of Silver is also widely considered one of the best of the last decade, and it's certainly among my favorite albums ever. Recently though, I've been listening to their first release, a double CD simply titled LCD Soundsystem, a compilation amassing one disc of earlier singles, and a second disc of then-new for 2005 material.

Both are certainly great CD's on their own, and could easily have their own glowing reviews from me, but for some reason, I tend to favour the disc of their older material. There's no great discrepancy between any of their three discs really: 90% party-ready jams, and 10% slower numbers that cover everything from how shitty New York got in the last decade, to the heart-aching departure of someone you really love -- all corkscrewing their way into your psyche in seven- to eight-minute cuts.

LCD Soundsystem - On Repeat

Maybe that's the one thing about LCD Soundsystem that makes them a hard band to get into and appreciate: the formidable length and structure of their music. The elements themselves are fine, and rarely stray from the usual dance-floor fare: hi-hats, drum machines, atmospherics, crunchy guitar, and (God love James Murphy) more cowbells than are probably a good idea. Either way, the manner in which all of those culminate is truly something to marvel at, if you really take the time (quite literally) to do it. There's one Sound Of Silver track - "Get Innocuous" - that for about 30 seconds, takes a fast-paced kind of "banging on alien steel" sound, and transforms it bar-by-bar into an equally quick but simple ticking noise. I mean it's intricacies like that that I really appreciate about these guys, but that may go unnoticed or just plain ignored.

But getting back to it, it really might be that musically density that forms a wall between eager ears and musical minds. When even the above-mentioned "All My Friends" spends its whole first minute of seven repeating the same piano loop over and over again (the source of my father's frustration with the group), I may start to understand some people's hesitance at getting into LCD Soundsystem. Begrudgingly, I'll even admit that James Murphy's voice is - realistically - not the most pleasing thing to listen to for the three hours of their music I have in my iTunes.

LCD Soundsystem - Great Release

But it's not always so much how he's saying what it is -- it's without a doubt what it is he's actually talking about. And it really is more like talking than singing. I can barely think of any lines he actually rhymes with proficiency, and it seems like most of his lyrics are stream-of-consciousness verbal assaults on ageing and friends and socializing and love and getting fucked over and music and what's cool and what's not. And all of it is endlessly quotable. For me, James Murphy is nothing short of a modern philosopher. In reference to above quotability, I could write an entire post on the genius musings contained in LCD Soundsystem's tracks, but the best way to pick them out is to actually give the tunes a listen.

This is possibly the best analogy I have for LCD Soundsystem's music: Remember "The Sunscreen Song"? Sadly, not as many people as I thought do, and its lyrical content and origin are an entirely different story, but if you imagine Baz Luhrmann in that song is some kind of fatherly figure doling out advice to you on your graduation day, James Murphy is like your best friend yelling life advice over the dance grooves at a house party. And when you really think about it, it's as simple as that.

Buy LCD Soundsystem here: Amazon

look in the book...

Pointless musical trivia: Pink Mountaintops' members come from the same collective of artists that form Vancouver's Black Mountain -- which also produced the indelible Lightning Dust outfit. It's like a gift that keeps giving. I've already broken down some of Lightning Dust's and Black Mountain's previous work, and as much as I appreciated some elements of their music, Pink Mountaintops seem to take the best of both groups, with folk-inflected and sometimes plodding rock music, along with more uptempo jaunts and cathedral filling wails.

"Execution" and "Vampire" are the singles already released from Pink Mountaintops' album Outside Love, and I knew what to expect from those songs having already heard them, but when I delved into the album itself, I was pleasantly surprised with one track in particular. "Holiday"is outfitted with harmonica, tinkles, acoustic guitar, and a campfire melody -- something that's a bit of a change of pace for a group with its feet well-set in the comforts of straightforward rock and dreamy psychedelia. I mean, I'm talking like I'd toast s'mores to this tune.

Pink Mountaintops - Holiday

It's actually a pretty mournful song in lyrical content, lamenting friends who have left "on holiday," and preaching about bastards and cowards, but you'd never guess from the sea-shanty-like sway of the thing, drowned in expressive yet almost monotonous singing. In view of the Peaches-sounding guitars and garage-rock drums of cuts like "The Gayest Of Sunbeams" (yes, you read that right) and ballroom twirls of "Come Down," Pink Mountaintops certainly make use of the many musical styles they have under their belts, and are no worse for it. The whole album still sounds like a whole piece, with good flow from start to finish and a good number of strong tracks.

Look at that. I set out to write a little snippet about "Holiday," and I ended up with a mini album review on Outside Love. But it felt organic and natural, a lot like Pink Mountaintops' music.

now I'm just crazy, and fucked in the head

Girls really had to grow on me. No, not like that -- Girls, the band. Maybe a bit less than the xx, I was wary of the hype surrounding these guys. Pitchfork's review had a most interesting story on the band's background, but that still wasn't enough to get me to listen to the group. An initial listen to "Laura" didn't convince me of their talent any more either. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I half-recall listening to the particular track featured in this post, "Lust For Life," but if I really liked it that first time (in the summer if I remember at all), it would certainly stick out in my memory a bit more than it seems to right now.

No, it took a very random and recent listen to "Lust For Life" for me to warm up to Girls even a little bit. I'm still not totally into them, and it hasn't even been two weeks that I've had the track I'm speaking of. But -- damn is it ever catchy. At 2:25, I've probably taken longer pees. But the ridiculously jangling guitars, the almost-cartoonish half-croon/half-whine of lead singer Christopher Owens, the barely-there beach vibe, the sustained tempo of the whole thing (not much time to really do anything different with it anyway), the out-of-nowhere harmonica riff that for the life of me I can't place quite which 90's TV show it reminds me of...for God's sake, it's not really fair that a song with really only one verse can be this good. Even the way it trails off at the end is irresistible, and I frankly can't get enough of the song.

Thankfully -- and probably a big reason why I like the song so much -- what it's lacking is that "chillwave" beach-haze, symptomatic of this summer's drowned-out, barely-audible excuses for sun-soaked soundtracks. The song could've easily went that way, but laid bare (or what some people might call "not produced with layer-upon-layer of tape-deck hiss, pushed to the background vocals, and unrecognizably distorted guitar"), it sounds ten times better than anything else of a similar ilk put out in the last six months.

Girls - Lust For Life

Obviously if you wanted to, you could delve into the deeper meaning of the track, as there's certainly enough there to work with. Owens' probably-personal longings -- some we can relate to (sun tans, beach houses, bottles of wine) and some we can't (boyfriends, for those of us heterosexual males; and fathers, for those of us who grew up with them) -- abound. Vulgar thoughts of insanity and matters of the heart even wander their way into the condensed-soup of a song, but it never feels like too much -- rather, it feels just right. Even if seemingly nothing in Owens' world is.

did you dive too deep, like you always do?

Music for me isn't just the sounds. It's the feelings and the memories and the stories associated with those unique sounds. Sometimes it's complicated, like a concert experience. Sometimes it's as simple as a memorable tune in your car or on the radio (not a great chance it was on the radio nowadays though). "Lions For Scottie" by Hey Rosetta! has a very abstract backstory for me.

My younger sister occasionally borrows my car. While I usually listen to my mp3 player when I drive, she brings along her own mix CD's, which she tends to leave in the car afterwards. After I moved out this September, I started taking quick drives around town, as opposed to the half-hour treks I used to commute on before my move, so that meant either forgetting or foregoing my mp3 altogether. As alluded to above however, the radio absolutely sucks in Halifax. So on those quick drives, which would sometimes extend into mini-shopping trips or proverbial taxi rides for my roommates, my sister's CD's came in more than handy.

On one particularly eclectic mix, I found some Noah & The Whale, Death Cab For Cutie, Joel Plaskett, some oldies, and a few Hey Rosetta! cuts. Very representative of my sister's listening habits to say the least. Those Hey Rosetta! tracks really connected with me though -- until then, I'd really only listened to one of their songs with any consistency, aside from seeing them in concert this summer. So picking her up one night from work, I asked if the songs were indeed by Hey Rosetta!, and told her how much I liked them. A while later, I got the band's two albums (as well as a concert ticket for their Halifax show this December) and though I'm still missing a few songs, they've got a solid catalog already just from that pair.

"Lions For Scottie" really stood out to me for one reason or another though. It's one of the more immediate songs the group has, starting with a few drumstick hits and launching into a full-out assault right off the top. It doesn't build and well up like most other Hey Rosetta! tracks, and singer Tim Baker's vocals are among his most exuberant and impassioned on the Plan Your Escape disc "Lions For Scottie" comes from. Though the album cut is 7:41 long, the meat of it really only extends 3:26 in, then gives way to a markedly more somber and diametrically opposed affair. In iTunes, I left that self-titled "Extended Mix" alone as part of the whole album, and cut myself the shorter version for easier listening to the single. Take a listen to it for yourself here:

Hey Rosetta! - Lions For Scottie

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.

Phantom...Pt. 1

Walking back home from a night out on Friday, I passed a small bar, and thought I heard the faintest sliver of "Phantom Pt. 1" by Justice. For literally the next twenty minutes I was walking back, I whistled the brain-sticking notes of that electro tune, and didn't tire of it once.

Of course, I stopped for a bit when I waited to see if the guy with alcohol-poisoning across the street was being tended to well enough, but once I was assured of the latter, I went right back to whistling away. I've always been a big fan of Justice - I love their music, I like their remixes, I've watched "A Cross The Universe" - a hilarious and sometimes scary look at their North American tour - a number of times...but given all that, I still never actually had their full album. I've expressed on here before that I'm not really an album guy, but the more time wears on, the more I see the sense in it. Songs are made and arranged in album form - so why not listen to them as such?

So the day after my walk, I got Cross in its entirety. There were really two impetuses (impetuii?...nope) for that; one being "Phantom" embedding itself in my head for the majority of the walk home, and more notably, waiting for the Thunderheist show the other week, the club hosting the event played Cross front to back on their amazing sound system. Between the two, I was more than sold.

Obviously - as always - I'm like two years late with this, but it's just a small slice of what makes Justice so good in my books. From my perspective, mainly from having heard "Phantom Pt. 2" over and over again, "Pt. 1" seems like the slower, choppier and almost backwards-sounding companion to the sequel. Strangely, that's all meant in a complimentary fashion, and if you listen to them back-to-back (album-wise, that's how they're arranged as well), you'll see what I mean.

Justice - Phantom Pt. 1

Pnau - Baby (Breakbot Remix)

I imagine that picture sucks if you're colour-blind

Little makes me happier musically than listening to this song. It's true. There's an undeniable joy in the Breakbot remix of "Baby," and I bet you anything it comes from that children's choir singing the tune. The production may be another factor, as well as the piano, which I'm always a sucker for...but I'm pretty sure it boils down to those kids. The record shows that using children/children's choirs works to spectacular effect in making a song popular (see: Justice - "D.A.N.C.E."), so it's a wonder more artists don't do it, especially in genres like electro, where very little singing is done by the artists themselves.

As an interesting aside: part of the duo that's PNAU is Nick Littlemore, currently of Empire Of The Sun - so the man knows his catchy electro/dream-pop. And briefly? This is the remix of "Baby." Guess what? The original sucks. I mean sucks. I'm pretty sure I stopped it before it even finished playing out it was that bad, and it's one of the few songs I know of that's been so totally and pleasingly transformed from the original that it's completely blown it out of the water. Here it is if you wanna compare and contrast, but I personally hated the thing.