Archive for February, 2010
Loading ...
Tomorrow night 5 super heavy and super loud and super awesome bands are playing at the Manhattan here in Moncton. I’m going. Were you on the fence about this show? I thought you might be. So, to help you make your decision, here’s a little zip file with 4 songs from 4 of the bands. I didn’t have anything from Shelter With Thieves. If you’re in Shelter With Thieves, hit me up so I can get a copy of your new record. If you want to.
Anyhow, go download this, and I’ll see you at the show.
The Dojo Workhorse – Weapons Grade Romantic
Whether you’re a big music person or not, music engrains itself into your life. Songs you hear in passing, on tv, or at the mall, remind you of someplace, or something, or most often someone. If you’re a big music person, some albums, or songs become part of daily or weekly routine. I know if I’m having a bad day, a quick run through “Bombs Over Baghdad” by Outkast sets me straight in no time. Daily listens to “O” by Damien Rice, and Cursive’s “Domestica” both got me through my big heartbreak.
Now, as a (very) amateur critic, I listen to a lot of music, and there are some records come through that, while they’re great, don’t become part of that routine, or part of my life. Two records lately have. First, was the new The Dudes record. I reviewed it a while back. It’s fantastic. I still listen to it at least 5 times a week. But Dan Vacon has put out a side project record. The Dojo Workhorse is the exact opposite of a Dudes record. It’s not as heavy. It’s not as boisterous. One person described the gap as the Dudes being the party record, and the Dojo Workhorse being the hangover record.
Vacon touches on some things on Weapon’s Grade Romantic that everybody goes through, but talks about it with some wit, and some excellent wordplay. “Ohio” is my favourite example of that where he opens the song with;
My sweet Angel
If you’re near me
Spread your wings
and get us the F out of here
He’s a clever man with razor sharp words, and a voice that’s more R&B than R&R, but he’s managed to make it work. This record sits in my car. If I’m not listening to Fisher Price Little People, I’m listening to Weapon’s Grade Romantic. While I drive to the grocery store to get diapers.
Cuff the Duke – Way Down Here
Despite my odd-ball musical leanings, sometimes I’m very close-minded. There are certain bands, or artists that regardless of who they play with, what genre they play, and what label they’re on, I just completely sleep on. I don’t trust the data and I stay away. For example, a friend of mine told me about a band that played alt-country in the vein of Blue Rodeo. They’d actually done some work with Greg Keelor, my favourite Blue Rodeo guy. And they even put out their first album on Hayden’s Hardwood Records. All this information written in black and white makes me wonder why I’ve taken so long to actually listen to Cuff the Duke.
I guess in my old age, I’m starting to look at things more subjectivelly. Starting to be a little more open to these new things. Maybe it’s because I’m a parent. Maybe it’s because of my full time job. Maybe I’m just growing up. I read an ad for the new Cuff album in a magazine mentioning the Keelor connection. I remembered seeing Hardwood Records on their website. I remember they played here in Moncton with Blue Rodeo. Finally my guard came down and I said to myself “Joe, you need to hear this album. Get over yourself.” A quick email and a few days later, and the fine folks at Universal Music Canada had the cd on it’s way.
This is a great record. Musically, Cuff the Duke are fantastic. They sound solid, and tight. There’s a great similarity in the songwriting style to Blue Rodeo. I don’t consider it a rip-off, but more of a hommage. It’s just enough Blue Rodeo to pull people in. Once you’re in and you start listening around, you start to hear Cuff the Duke. You hear the dissimilarities in the voices. You hear the differences in the harmonies. You hear differences in the songwriting. You hear that in fact, Cuff the Duke has made their own great Canadiana album. One that will stand up over time. I hate to sound like I’m jumping the bandwagon here because of my long-standing indifference for these guys, but I think we’re standing with our countries next Blue Rodeo. A band that will, largely, not misstep with their music. That will take their time with each record and be happy with them, so that we can be happy with them. Don’t miss out. Pick up this record. Become a fan. Don’t do like I did.
Daniel, Fred & Julie
The idea behind Daniel Fred and Julie is a singer songwriter fairy tale. Three people all head east, set up some chairs in a garage, and press record. No overdubs, no multitracking, just hit it and go. My interest in this record came as a surprise to me. I never liked Eric’s Trip, or any of Julie’s solo stuff. That’s absolute blasphemy in Moncton, my hometown, but I don’t care. I’ve never heard Attack in Black, and the one time I saw Shotgun and Jaybird, I was amazed watching them set up, but let down when they actually played. But, the story behind the record is what drew me in. Daniel from Attack in Black hopped on a train with a couple of guitars, and a folk songbook. They hung out in Fred’s garage in Sackville for a few days and just sang. Proudly presented in Mono, the record relies solely on the quality of the songs, and arrangements to get the point across. Like an old timey “Creek Drank the Cradle”, if you would. The one take, no overdubs quality of the record makes for an honesty that’s missing from a lot of the music I’ve been hearing lately. Slightly missed harmonies, and off time tempos aren’t rampant, but noticeable and most certainly welcome! It’s a real record, full of time tested and true songs. If you’re a fan of any of these artists, or just want something fresh, pick up Daniel, Fred, and Julie and take a listen.
Here’s a link to the www.herohill.ca review which has a track by track breakdown by Daniel Romano.
The last week I’ve been wanting to dance. I know that might sound like a ‘bar star girl’ thing to say. At least in Fredericton it is. “I wanna go out dancing!” they say.
Well, be that as it may, I’ve been feeling the bug, and there’s a reason. The Ting Tings. Don’t laugh. Despite the name these two indie kids from Hackney, London have got it. The first time you hear their songs on the radio, at the bar, or at the gym in my case you hate it. I remember thinking What a ridiculous song this is. But the hook got me, and I’ve been humming it ever since.
I just got their album We Started Nothing, and couldn’t get over how many of the songs I recognized. Every other song is on the radio, and just as catchy as the last one. It’s light hearted, simple, fun pop. Cute and energetic, it makes you dance like the silhouettes in iPod commercials. You have no choice. It’s science somehow.
If you want to get pumped up for a night on the town with some pre-drinks and dance music with friends, or just hang out alone in your room with the blinds closed so no one can see you dance, give The Ting Tings a listen.
Dear Larry & Other Wazowski,
I loved The Matrix. I even loved the two follow ups. I went to see them in the theatre back when I didn’t like movie theatres. That’s my devotion to The Matrix. So when I saw a preview for Ninja Assassin, I got pretty excited. The guys who did The Matrix are now doing super awesome ninja movies? Fantastic!
You two have let me down.
Now, I’m going to be real about this. I only watched 10 minutes of this movie. But the 10 minutes I watched were enough to make sure I never watch another one of your movies ever again. I’ll have to watch Return of the Dragon 300 times before I can even begin to wash my brain of the garbage the both of you put on my TV screen. I’m not sure what you were thinking, but seriously. The next time you want to pull off something like this, call me first. Seriously.
I mean, I’ll admit, Keanu Reeves isn’t a great actor. Anybody can tell you that. He’s been very smart at picking the right roles, but he’s never been a great actor. But Laurence Fishburne is a great actor. Carrie Anne Moss is a great actress. Hugo Weaving is fantastic. Old KiKi had a supporting cast. I don’t know who any of these dudes you found for Ninja Assassin are, but man oh man oh man! They stink! Now, the argument may be made that it’s not supposed to be good acting, it’s supposed to be good fighting. To me, that’s a cop out. YOU MADE THE MATRIX!!! The perfect blend of action, fighting, acting and storyline! Don’t step backwards! Move forward!
I’m so upset I can’t even say anything else. this movie was bad. It was childish. It was poorly acted. The fight scenes weren’t even that great.
Wachowski brothers, I’m going to watch Ong Bak. You should too. Maybe you’ll learn something.
Hugs & Kisses,
Joe
I came across this a few weeks ago, and I’ve probably watched it a dozen times… There’s nothing particularly fancy in the first two minutes, but if you’re into time-lapse video at all you’ll appreciate the work that went into the second half.
“A band is like a person – the more you get to know it, the deeper it becomes.” – Taken straight from the Armchair Cynics official website, it couldn’t be anymore true in this case.
When I first got the AC album, Starting Today, it took me a while to listen to it. I was afraid of it turning out to be a generic Canadian rock album, amongst the likes of Nickleback, or Default. I was pleasantly surprised when I finally got the nerve to pop it in. The first thing I noticed is the vocals. Instead of the grungy, gargling through the lyrics I expected Coutu leads off in sing-song tones reminiscent of mid-ninties Our Lady Peace.
They borrow from so many styles to create their own, it’s almost hard to describe the Armchair Cynics. With songs like Ablaze, and The World is Mine, we get a pop-rock anthem feel, while with others like Kelly, and Never Gave it a Chance, we hear a hint of The Killers, and a light-rock My Chemical Romance respectively.
All in all Starting Today is a pretty solid album. I’m glad I had the balls to eventually throw it in and give it a listen. I guess from now on I’ll have to be a bit less prejudice when it comes to music. You really never know until to play it. They’ve really grown on me.
Either way, later.
www.myspace.com/armchaircynics
If ever I had it, I’ve lost the ability to cope with despair. The night four years ago that I checked into the emergency room for the first time in my life, I was hoping for one outcome: drugs. I could have untruthfully said the things I needed to to trigger the “patient is depressed *bing!* referral kickback!” alarm in the doctors’ heads, but I didn’t need to be dishonest. Antidepressants were an easy out, allowing me to run like chicken shit from unsavoury emotion for the past four years.
Sometimes I miss a dose or two and they break through with a vengeance, and because I’ve lost the ability to cope with them, to do anything but run, I’m overwhelmed, completely incapacitated. This is my current state.
I’ve decided to try to write because it used to help. It used to be my outlet. It used to be all that was available to me, the only thing I knew how to turn to. Journal pages marred by whip lashes of tear-streaked ink.
It’s dawned on me that Valentine’s Day upsets me.
Now, the amusing knee-jerk reaction of most is to accuse me of being lonely and jealous, but you’re wrong. I’m not lonely or jealous—I’m happy and comfortable in two open relationships, kthankyouverymuch; I suffer no lack of amourous sentiment or activity.
What I object to is the day’s overpowering reek of Pavlovian conditioning. An arbitrary day that makes you feel socially obligated to shower the object of your affections with material garbage. Because if you don’t, you’re thoughtless. Even if you make your feelings clearly known at every other random time you feel like expressing them, you’d better somehow top it on month X day Y, because it’s been appointed an Official Day of Celebration™. It’s a party, motherfucker. What, you don’t want to be one of us? Is something wrong? Yeah—you’re fucking lemmings. I don’t want to feel like I owe it to “someone I love” to “show them I care.” Anyone I love already knows that I care; when and how I make it known is my fucking prerogative.
It’s as I said to a friend today, “It’s as if on Valentine’s Day there is only a *certain kind* of love to be celebrated, and there are only *certain ways* that are ‘acceptable.’” I reject this implication and deeply resent the manufactured social “norm” that’s caused me to even entertain it. Yes: I’m aware that I’m “irrationally overreacting” because I’m a goddamn hippie libtard with an emo-revolutionary desire to rebel against the arbitrary-societal-construction po’-leese, but really. What the fuck did Saint Valentine ever do for me that I should celebrate him in any way whatsoever? As a matter of fact, Saint Anyone was some churchy motherfucker and I’m a goddamned atheist, not to mention that he was dead centuries before I was even born and I don’t even give a fuck anymore about my own late relatives that have bitten the dust in the past two years. So the only reason I’ve ever given a fuck about this holiday is that society told me to. It rang the bell and I drooled and I’m disgusted. Consider this despicable habit broken.
Loading ...
