All To-more-oh's Pah-tees

Woah, it's that time again already? The hell, man. All Tomorrow's Parties 2010 came outta nowhere. Partially because I hadn't planned it 4 months in advance, partially because the line-up was a smidgen weaker than last year, but all that aside, it was a stellar weekend as always.

Brief note from the editor: I kind of struggle with the idea of a festival review because all in all, it's a bit pointless. Concert reviews as a whole are also of limited use, and this is especially true of concert reviews in the blogosphere wherein the writing is more or less there to convey a sense of I was there and you were not, sucker. Plus, more often than not, it seems to slip into "my god, this was absolutely [pick one: life-changing/-affirming, transcendental, the show of a lifetime, an "experience"]" and general fanboyism turning from review into, y'know, fanboyism. Besides, of how much practical use is a live review? An album is a singular experience, more or less the same for everyone outside of personal set/settings. A concert, however, is subject to a million different x-factors: your state of mind that day, your physical condition, the conditions of the venue, technical issues, et al. The best I can do for you now is tell you "yeah, this show was very good, you should uh... have been there, because it will never, ever happen again".

The Scientists playing was apparently a Big Deal, and I wish I could've cared more, but honestly, by 6pm Friday night I was toast after working all day Thursday and then taking an overnight bus to NYC (and then another 2 hours on the bus to get to Monticello). I was asleep on my feet for most of their set. I also don't care about Mudhoney at all. Yeah, we're off to a good start here.

But hey, goddamn, were The Stooges a wake-up call or what. Iggy Pop is still one of the greatest frontmen ever, even now that he bears a striking resemblance to an actual mummified corpse. Pits were moshed, claps were clapped, choruses were sung along, you wouldn't really know that this material was some 35+ years old. Phenomenal set, spot on.

But really, just look around and look at the black tshirts and overgrown neckbeards: it's Sleep that are the band of the night. And boy do they ever uphold their reputation as metal's most blunted, with a solid 2:1 ratio of amplifiers to band members, moody green lighting and a background projection that looks like the most stoned glacier you've ever seen. Hell, even the attempted-but-failed classical guitar interlude was probably conceived in a pre-show session. Snafus aside, it was pretty flawless stoner doom, with resin-thick guitar tones and pitch-perfect raspy bellows. An absolute marathon of a set, too, clocking it at over two hours.

Beak> were a surprise highlight for me, having never heard them before and only knowing they, uh, had some connection to Portishead and Portishead is great. Really atmospheric electronic-based sort of stuff, kind of like Hail to the Thief-era Radiohead. Perfect balance of creepy moments with danceable bass grooves.

Apse had one hell of a light show, that much is certain. I only caught a bit of their set but it was pretty bizarre post-everything that probably warrants a closer listening than I gave 'em.

Everyone seemed to be all shaken as to how loud Fuck Buttons were, so maybe my hearing is just deadened at this point, but it didn't seem all that unbearable. I wouldn't expect anything less, really, because this brand of body-movin', uh, - power-drone? progressive post-techno? - demands volume.

Text of Light should've been really cool - Lee Ranaldo deflowering his guitar to avant-garde 70's film - but came off as too hyper-artsy for its own sake. There's a big deal made about the projections and such, but they're just there for aesthetics, really, because whatever unholy noise was being torn from those amps had little-to-no correlation to the visuals. And I reckon the "little" correlations were coincidental.

Another band outta left-field was Fursaxa, with her (their?) fantastically pretty-sounding folk based around drones, harp and cello. Sort of a toned-down Natural Snow Buildings-vibe, minus the viciousness that band sometimes finds itself in.

Now, when Tortoise are good, they're really damn good, but when Tortoise are mediocre, well, they're really average. Tortoise here were pretty average. Flawless musicianship, sure, but it's not exactly a thrilling live show. Maybe I'm missing something, because everyone else was super jazzed (ba-dum) about their performances.

Shellac was fucking Shellac. Shellac ruled. It was Shellac. Damn.

The Breeders were five kinds of fun. Not the Pixies, and they never will be the Pixies, but once I got past that it was solid pop. And hey, it was super neat to see 90's alt-rock staple "Cannonball".

Explosions in the Sky were every bit as cathartic as they are on record. Yeah, I could pan them a bit for being one-dimensional, but when it's as powerful as this, who cares? Even I think I'm a pretentious douche for bringing that up.

Sonic Youth aptly made up for their Eternal-heavy set from last time I saw them by busting out a setlist I only could've dreamed up. "Candle", "Hey Joni", "'Cross the Breeze", "Eric's Trip", "Cross the Breeze", "Stereo Sanctity", "Catholic Block", "Expressway to Yr Skull", "Death Valley -69", and more but you get the idea, this was perfect. Screaming fields of Sonic Love indeed.

NOW, BUILD YOUR OWN SUNN O))) & BORIS REVIEW:
Opening:

• "I had always heard that Sunn O))) were best experienced live..."
• "The lights dimmed, smoke filled the stage, and the Hooded Ones began to..."
• "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

Overwritten metaphor/quasi-genrefication:

• "Searing tarpit sludge assault"
• "Pangaea tearing itself apart"
• "Cosmic funeral dirge"
• "BRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIWWWWWWWWWWWW"

Conclusion:

• "Transcendental; a truly euphoric performance"
• "Merely describing it as a 'concert' doesn't do the band justice..."
• "GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNN"

I know you've read about Sunn O))) before. Yeah, it might have actually been a few of those things, but goddamn does the fetishization of this band in music criticism get a bit long in the tooth.

So yeah, all in all, 10/10. Great show. Check it out. You should've been there.

ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES: PART THREE (Sunday)

Alright, finally wrapping up this tedious and boringly written review.

This was the day of the festival I had been really holding out for. A bunch of legendary bands doing legendary things, all in the same building, and things kicked off with Japan's almighty Boredoms. Let's just get this out of the way right now: the festival could've ended right after their set and I'd've been 110% content. The building could've caved in (sure felt like it was going to). I could've suffered from post-infant death syndrome. Heart failure. Spontaneous combustion. Anything. For the 70 minutes that the Boredoms were on stage, there was 70 minutes of the most hypnotizing, enthralling, exciting music I've had the privilege to see in person. Nine drummers in perfect unison, Yamantaka Eye in the centre with his seven-necked guitar, beating, jumping, wailing, crooning, calling, beckoning, yodeling, screaming, thrashing... screw words, this was positively transcendent. Someone posted the whole set on Youtube, so get on that.

Not to be outdone by ridiculous stage-setting, the Caribou Vibration Ensemble followed, with a huge line-up of 15 if I recall correctly. Three drummers, auxiliary percussion, guitars, brass, woodwinds, and electronic fuckery courtesy of Four Tet. Very cool idea, great execution, but almost every song had the same climactic "last song" explosion feeling, kinda of dampening all the following climaxes (insert your own joke here.)

Proving that Japan is the leader of eclectic vaguely-heavy nuttery (sorry, Netherlands), Boris handily cranked out another festival highlight by playing Feedbacker in its entire slow-burning, cataclysmic glory. Flawless, really, which makes it hard to talk about. But how fucking cool is a double-necked guitar in a red-light stage fog? Yeah, thought so.

Crystal Castles are right up there with Animal Collective in the "admittedly hipster-friendly faux-indie that is enjoyable on record but atrocious live" category. Painfully loud throbbing bass combined with Alice Glass's off-key and off-time shrieks and squawks were thoroughly difficult enjoyable. Which is a shame, because I want to dig this band more than I do, really. Danceable but not obnoxiously so, and a vaguely punk aesthetic should make for a good time; then again, maybe it's more punk to go on stage drunk and kick out some half-assed jamz? Let's not talk about punk, actually. We all know where that goes.

Arguably the most legendary of the day's line-up was Bob Mould (if you are Googling this name right now I swear I will kill you) playing Husker Du songs with No Age, which is the closest many of us youngin's will get to seeing Husker Du live. What I admired most about the set was how No Age wasn't just Mould's house band for the hour. Rather, they played together, trading off vocal parts, gelling very well and playing extremely tightly. And closing with "New Day Rising"? Pants = officially soiled.

Now, here's where I lose you: I don't really care for The Flaming Lips. I don't hate them, I'm just terribly indifferent. So when my options were "watch them play until 1" or "get a decent sleep for an early departure tomorrow", my girlfriend and I leaned towards the latter. That being said, the 10 minutes we caught seemed to be the wildly entertaining live show the Lips are known for: costumes, confetti, balloons, the whole 9. Fun time, to be sure.

Ah, I really can't wrap this up eloquently. I didn't enjoy writing this. I'm sure it was awful to read too. Sorry folks, things'll pick up from here.

ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES: PART ONE (Friday)

Feel free to skip the first couple of paragraphs; the meat of things starts below the personal back story, but if you wanna come along for the whole ride, go right on ahead, sailor.

The multi-day music festival is not something we really "do" here in Canada. We get some one-day things rolling through my neck of the woods (Virgin Festival, Warped Tour), but unfortunately, many of those one-day things all-day suck (Virgin Festival, Warped Tour). I remember reading through issues of Terrorizer (a British metal magazine (that is, about, not forged from, metal) in high school, and being absolutely floored at the weekend heavy metal camps, where European metalheads could congregate in a field out in Germany, bring a tent and some beer, and rock the fuck out for three days straight while an amazing line-up played from noon 'til dawn. Wacken, Bloodstock, Graspop... a dime a dozen over there.

As time went on, my tastes changed, but I was nonetheless jealous of the folks across the pond. How's this for an idea: take a really great band, have them pick a bunch of other really great bands, and have them all play over the course of a weekend? Bloody brilliant!, I'm sure they said over tea, adjusting monocles, etc. And so for many a year I was insanely jealous of the UK's musician-curated festival called All Tomorrow's Parties.

Eventually, ATP found it's way to North America, specifically New York, but actually specifically to Monticello, a nowhere town two hours from New York. And fuck, the line-ups were just as stellar and the whole experience sounded absolutely incredible.

So I went.

Earlier this summer, my girlfriend and I were browsing the line-up of old festivals, drooling and gawking and how cool would that be-ing. It would be so cool, it was decided. So a after a few extra shifts at work, some emails, some bus tickets, we set it up. September 10, we are leaving on a Greyhound bus from Toronto to New York, arriving the next day. Rad.

(At this point I will spare you the boredom of the 10+ hour bus ride, but just for the record: the new "extra leg room" Greyhound buses? Bullshit. They're uncomfortable as hell. The leg room is fine, but they went and fucked up the back and neck room, which made sleeping next to impossible.)

Unfortunately, due to Manhattan traffic and a missed transfer we missed The Drones playing Wait Long By The River and the Bodies of Your Enemies Will Float By. So I can't say much about that. Or anything, really.

The Feelies were up next and we were able to catch 80% of their set, wherein they performed Crazy Rhythms in its entirety. The jangly post-punk felt kind of flat on record, but the songs are definitely there, and live they absolutely nailed it. Super high energy for an album conceived almost 30 (!) years ago and a rock-solid performance. Here's hoping the reunion isn't just for touring.

Continuing the night's "Don't Look Back" agenda, where bands faithfully recreate entire albums live, Dirty Three (with Nick Cave on piano) did as much of Ocean Songs as they could fit into their one-hour set. Hyperdelicate post-rock doesn't normally translate into thrilling live show, but Warren Ellis was able to bust out all matter of kicks and jumps and wildly frontman-like behaviour all while cradling a violin and more than making up for his lethargic bandmates. Luckily, Cave's appearance didn't overshadow the material; his additions were subtle and tasteful, and the set was flawless. Definitely a highlight.

Suicide performing Suicide (as the ATP website affirmed, "their first LP", not actual suicide) was one of the main things that sealed my decision to make the journey to New York. Nothing short of legendary, the duo were wildly inventive for the late 70's; when punk was a guitar-bass-drum affair, Suicide worked as a duo, with drum machines and keyboards, with songs often being just an abrasive, industrial rhythm under half-singing punctuated with manic shrieks and bursts of noise. Now, 32 years later... things are bad. Real bad. A set list is one thing, but lyric sheets? For your own music? And having the sound guy read them was just sad. A deadpan roadie saying "Ghost rider. Motorcycle hero." into the microphone made me cringe. And so did Suicide themselves. It was like watching that drunken, creepy, "funny" uncle do Suicide karaoke at your family reunion. "Rocket USA" was especially embarrassing, as Alan Vega mumbled and groaned and generally showed his age. Admittedly things clicked a bit as the set went on, but it was still kind of... sad.

I never really got why everyone went apeshit over Panda Bear. Sure, Person Pitch was groovy, but it wasn't as mindblowing as you'd be lead to believe. Reverb-drenched minimal loops and Mr Lennox's soaring chorusy voice are lovely and all, but each song is just that on top of a creative sample, and it all becomes very samey very quickly. So live it's no surprise that the loops become more annoying (and unpleasantly bass-heavy) to the point of incoherency, the vocals do their normal Panda Bear thing, and the "show" consists of a man standing at a mess of wires in front of a projection for an hour. Monotonous, really.

David Cross did a funny, if extremely drunken, set, and I don't know what else to say about a comedian. He spoke well, I guess? Nice voice? Good jokes? He was a comedian, and he was funny. What more do you want?

I only caught about 10 minutes of The Jesus Lizard before being so impossibly tired I could not stand it, but much unlike Suicide, they seem to still be hauling ass despite their age. David Yow immediately found his way into the crowd, and right off the bat people/fists/feet/bottles were flying. Would've been a great time had I not been dead on my feet.


Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3... sometime. This is kind of a tedious thing to write. Is it tedious to read? Let me know.

SHOW REVIEW: MV+EE w/ Woods, $100

Folk rock extravaganza at my favourite local art gallery for $10? Sign me up.

First and foremost: the Whippersnapper Gallery is a fantastic venue. It is easily accessible by public transit (I'm looking at you, Sound Academy), suitably intimate (read: small), and since it is, at its core, an art gallery, it makes for a lovely place to see a show. As if that weren't enough, there's a very nice bunch of folks who run this place, and do their best to support local talent at a minimal cost to both the artists and the visitors. Seriously, catch a show or exhibit or party or anything you can there; this place deserves your support.

As for the show, it opened with $100, a local alt-country band getting a decent amount of buzz about them lately. That being said, I can in no way appreciate the genre they play, so I don't feel as though I can fairly say anything about their performance another than "I didn't like it" and "the free nachos at the makeshift bar were delicious and free."

Woods were undoubtedly the band that people came to see, as the crowd ballooned to twice its size after $100. They're the latest little buzz band, I hear? Whatever, it's well deserved: these guys write some viciously catchy fuzzed-out folk-pop, and balance it nicely with some psychedelic/jam elements. And, as if I needed more reason to love them, their live tape... player? Performer? Tapist?... is wildly entertaining: some sort of noise S&M enthusiast, masking himself with sideways headphones and abusing the shit out of a pedal-board-cum-DJ-set-up-cum-noise-factory. But despite the image, his drones and squeals and back-up vocals were tasteful and subtle, and added a ton to their live show, especially when things got far out, man.

I was kinda saddened that literally 75% of people left before MV+EE even began setting up, but fuck 'em, the hipsters only missed out on a great set. (I must also shamefully admit I had to leave somewhat early to catch the last bus home) They played with whatever band it is they have now (I believe it's the Golden Road) and kicked out jams from Gettin' Gone and the recent Drone Trailer, with each song being twisted and stretched into extended country-fried jam sessions, the highlight for me being the reinterpretation of the folk song "Hammer", with Erika Elder sounding as lovely live as she does on record, and Matt Valentine grabbing the Telecaster for some downright heavy fuzz riffage.

In addition to playing amazing sets, both Woods and MV+EE are composed for an extremely friendly bunch of people who manned their own merch booths and were more than happy to have a chat, and seemed genuinely grateful to everyone who talked and bought merch (and, y'know, certain drummers from certain jam bands gave props to certain bloggers for wearing a certain Comus shirt, which was also cool (certainly).

Great bands, great sets, great venue, great nachos... what's not to like?

Check 'em out if they come to your neck of the woods, and definitely stop by the Whippersnapper if you're in the GTA.


P.S. sorry it's been all live reviews lately; I'll get back to the usual this week!

SHOW REVIEW: Wolves in the Throne Room w/ A Storm of Light, Krallice, & Thrones

Alright, updates should be back to normal now that, as of tomorrow, my school year is done (finally). And yeah, Tuesday updates aren't "normal", but I know all 4 of you are pining for something new to sate your need for my inimitable prose.

Normally, we all know the role of an opening band: to waste time before you get to see the band you paid to see. Ok, or bands the headliner respects and wants to expose to a wider audience, whatever. But by and large, these are not particularly groups you care about (my last show review completely notwithstanding, mind you.) Well, and to break some internal structure and acknowledge those last parentheses, this line-up was another exception: thee almighty eco-friendly epic black metal ensemble Wolves in the Throne Room, supported by A Storm of Light, Krallice and Thrones (just in case you didn't read the title, natch.)

A Storm of Light are a Neurosis-worshipping trio who, unsurprisingly, feature the ex-visuals... guy (visualist? visionary? visionsman?) from Neurosis themselves, who has also served stints in Red Sparowes and Battle of Mice, so the sludgy-credentials here are at waste-thick ooze out ofthat scene in Saw III with all the pig guts. (Which reminds me, I just saw Saw V, and how bullshit was that? (Along with Saws II-IV, mind you (but I digress!). Part of me wanted to think "oh my god, this is going to be so boss! And this album art is bomb, too, this will be the best damn thing since Isis!", while part of me knew that "all of these post-Neurosis bands are the same, ugh." Well, the latter turned out to be true, and while the female guest-vocals gave them some distinction, its by-and-large the same pseudo-atmospheric dirge tuned to drop-whatever.

(However, I did pick up their gorgeous Primitive North split with Nadja for a cheapo $20 (and you all laughed when I put off buying it!) and it's definitely worth your time, especially for the sidelong Nadja blissy, fuzzed-out drone that they do oh so well.)

Krallice were definitely set to impress, too, since they're the closest thing to a black metal supergroup since the short-lived Twilight, although curiously none of the members have any blackened credentials: the "ex-member of..." rollcall includes Astomatous, The Flying Luttenbachers, Orthrelm, and, inarguably the biggest draw, Colin Marston, of Behold... the Arctopus and several more-or-less interchangeable post-everything tech-wank bands. While I expected some sort of iffy, tech-black sort of deal, I was pleasantly surprised that there was nothing overly showy and the emphasis was on fierce, riff-heavy black metal. Shame about the minor sound problem (the vocals would overpower the stage-right speaker), but done well enough to spark my interest in the band. Well done.

By this point it seems like I could devote an entire entry to just listing the former projects of the acts on this bill: take Thrones, the solo project of Joe Preston. It would probably be easier to list the bands he hasn't worked with, but his resume includes tenures with the Melvins, High on Fire, Earth and Harvey Milk. And when you've played jackhammer on a Sunn O))) track, then no one will ever question your bad-assery again (and since apparently a bunch of you are questioning just how boss this guy is, he's loaded his everything with fucking bears.) Stylistically he was the odd-man out, opening with a lengthy drone/doom sort of thing that audibly confused some of the crowd, but this sort of thing is right up my alley, and goddamn did he make an oppressive layer of noise just looping his bass and fiddling with some samplers. Immensely powerful drones, followed by some extremely Melvins-esque "stoner rock" or whatever the tag is that one gives meaty-sounding, low-end heavy hard rock.

And finally, Wolves in the Throne Room have come out of whatever backstage ritual they were performing before the show and... well, carry it onto stage, as they dimmed the lights, lit candles, and cranked the fog machine to 11 to create a wicked atmosphere; this is how black metal is meant to be heard. For a bunch of outsider pseudo-hippies, Wolves can, to put it lightly, tear your fucking head of with raw black energy. Incredibly tight and remarkably aggressive compared to some of their recorded output, they were able to get heads a-banging' more thoroughly than any other band on the bill. (As a side note, $15 shirts are definitely the way to go; way to go, guys.)

For an open-minded metalhead, I'd dare you to find a better evening for $18.

SHOW REVIEW: Animal Collective w/ Grouper, May 16 @ the Sound Academy (Toronto)

Yes, yes, Animal Collective are the hipster garabe I've ever heard, but I wanted to believe it was just the Internet being the hate machine that it is wont to be. But fuck, Animal Collective have amassed the douchiest fan base ever, and yes, it's because of Merriweather Post Pavilion (and no, it is not the next Pet Sounds, goddammit.)

Don't get me wrong: I earnestly do like the band, and have for quite sometime. The last time I saw them was back in 2007 when they were on the verge of releasing Strawberry Jam. It was a good show, by all accounts: good sound, good set, good crowd.

Yeah, good crowd. I wish this remained true but alas, no. Grouper opened the show with a (slightly overlong for an opening act) set which I wish I could say I enjoyed, but it was drowned out by drunken chatter, sober chatter, booing, cries of "ANIMAL COLLECCCCTIVE!" and frankly disrespectful behaviour all around". I hate to sound like that bitter old man telling all the kids to git off his lawn (again), but seriously, some ounce of decency would be nice.

When Animal Collective did finally come on, I was pleasantly surprised they opened with "Chocolate Girl"; I'd like to think it was a conscious choice as a big "fuck you" to everyone there for "My Girls", and it did seem to leave the crowd a little disarmed (though it, unfortunately, didn't stop random "WOOOO!"s in the middle of the goddamn song). And guess what, folks? Your shitty cell phone pictures are going to look just like everyone else's. Put away your phone and enjoy the show. Did you really pay $25 so you could text in a new, exciting locale?

Though speaking of "My Girls", it was abundantly clear that that was why the majority of the crowd was there; that was when people starting dancing, that is when people did (could only?) sing along, that was when people decided it was a good idea to rush the stage. Same during "Brother Sport". And "Summertime Clothes". Hey, wait a second...

All in all, it was a decent set with decent sound (highlights being "Leaf House", "Comfy in Nautica" and the extended "Fireworks" jam) marred by the most obnoxious crowd I've ever counted. And as if I needed more reason to hate the Sound Academy (besides its absurd location, bottleneck exit and overpriced shows), what sort of venue allows drinks to be taken into the main concert area? The designated drinking area is designated as to keep drinks out of the show so you aren't stomping on cans or getting Heineken spill on your legs.

Fine enough show, but I'm not sure if I could deal with another crowd like that should they come back to town.

Setlist:
1. Chocolate Girl
2. Comfy In Nautica
3. What Would I Want Sky
4. Lion In A Coma
5. My Girls
6. Guys Eyes
7. Fireworks
8. Leaf House
9. Brother Sport
Encore:
10. Chores
11. Summertime Clothes