January 2004
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF MATCHSTICKS
ONEIDA
Ipisissima Vox (Scarcelight/tbtmo/Skylab, scarcelight.com, tbtmo.com, skylaboperations.com)
After hearing this album, fans of Accelera Deck will definitely add this release to their list of favourites. After hearing it only twice it made my Top Ten list even though I have heard thousands of good releases this year and it wasn't until late November that I heard this one. Ipisissima Vox is a collection of digital and analog recordings from the last ten years. Chris Jeely mixes broken bits of guitar with layers of feedback. At times his sounds are incredibly beautiful, but sometimes they are harsh and piercing. It presents all the sounds that Accelera Deck has previously offered, but this time it is more evolved and polished with an intriguingly noise-driven sharpness and strange melodic directness. The album starts off with crazy noise-drenched water pipes and pitters mixed with spacey guitar riffs, and it doesn’t exclusively stay there. These tracks boldly fade and cross in and out, from sounds that can at times be considered lullabies with pianos, to quiet robot glitch-love sounds heard in an underground sewer where construction people work and listen with smiles on their faces. The minimalist noise that is heard between the tracks is essential to this album, making the random clips mimic subtle heartbeat blips. This, in my opinion, keeps this very experimental album together. Highlights for me are “Gloss,” “Hail” and “Reckoning.” — AS
File next to Black Dice, Christian Fennesz,
experimental works by Jim O’Rourke.
JASON BAJADA
Live at Cabaret Music Hall (www.jasonbajada.com)
Struggling to write my review of Live at Cabaret Music Hall, I clicked over to the official website for inspiration. I simply couldn't think of a thing to write. It wasn't that the record was bad. Basically a live recording of Bajada's simultaneously-released Puer Dolor, the production was in fact notable. But I was blanking. I wasn’t excited by the music. It’s executed wonderfully and is so polished and professional your mom would surely like it. But I could say that in one sentence, and I was asked to write 150 words. Fortunately, Jason’s website bio is infinitely more whimsical than his songs; "Bajada’s music is fiery red with intellect and black-and-blue with emotion," it proclaims proudly. “And it is certain that the roar of crowds swelling in the streets of Montreal — demanding his name — will spread fiercely beyond our borders.” At the risk of alienating Mom, perhaps Jason should employ his PR person to write his lyrics. — JL
File next to: John Mayer, your mom.
THE BOSTON LETTER
s/t (floating thru life, www.floatingthrulife.is.dreaming.org)
Imagine time-lapse video of highways and intersections, blurred streaks of both human and vehicular traffic, interspersed with slow-motion images of butterflies dodging and weaving between them. Neil Haverty, also of Nouns, just released this sweet little seven-song EP a few months ago and his math-rock influenced soundscapes bring to mind images of majestic whales in a dirty indigo ocean, smokestacks, flowers in sidewalk cracks and other traces of awkward beauty. Haverty finds a way to marry different time signatures in a jigsaw puzzle of guitars, strings, drums, clocks, coins and bulk candy, all with raspy vocals that flux between audible and inaudible, reinforcing a sense of conflict. Put this in a Discman and put on some headphones and go for a walk in the crappiest neighbourhood you can find. Everything will look better. — RM
File next to: Is that a star or a satellite?
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF MATCHSTICKS
Window Pain (Piehead, www.pieheadrecords.com)
One of the joys of making instrumental music is being free to name the songs whatever you please. Anne Sulikowski is very good with the naming. “I Have Made A List Of 374 Reasons Why I Can’t Live Without You And 375 Reasons Why I Can Never See You Again” marries oceanic ambience to punchy melodies and skippy beats and musically is as pleasing as its title. “This Could Be The One That Makes It” is of course the knowing pop hit and “In Between The Blips And Skips There’s Love” indeed finds romance within the glitch. Lovely proof that “experimental electronica” can also provide a happily “straightforward” listening experience without imploding into cuteness. — JD
File next to: I Am Robot And Proud, post-Popp glitch musik, imaginary karaoke hits.
CABIN FEVER
(directed by Eli Roth)
Proves that the best way to give people the jibblies is to replace an axe-wielding maniac with a flesh-eating disease. You get so much more gore for your buck! It plays up the comedy a bit much at times, but makes up for it by providing some of the most uncomfortable footage ever. Don’t rent this if you are:
a) Frightened of menacing dogs.
b) Queasy about rashes, puking up copious amounts of blood or zits.
c) Overly sympathetic to forest-living hermits who shouldn’t be shot, bludgeoned and set on fire.
I won’t wreck it by describing scenes (paging Toronto weeklies) but I’ll tell you this: Rider fucking Strong from Boy Meets World is in it. Rent this, you pot smokers! — BP
File next to: Dead Alive, Evil Dead 2, worrying about that itchy part of your face where your chin curves up and you have to shave a bit harder and you obsess over the tender skin.
THE HIDDEN CAMERAS
“You Are The Same,” Toronto Dance Theatre, Jan. 22. (www.musicismyboyfriend.com)
How quickly this show went from an “oh no!” to an “oookay... yes” — two songs exactly, as soon as the full troupe of modern dancers took the stage and I realized I would get to stare at their perfect bodies all night. Took the stage indeed, leaving The Hidden Cameras crammed in one corner. The gay church folk-pop orchestra’s collab with the TDT seemed rather silly at first, but started making sense when the two disparate groups started blurring the disciplinary boundaries, dancers picking up vibe mallets and musicians flinging their untrained bodies into open space. The band sounded beautiful as ever and offered up some darker new material, including one goth-y tune that reminded me of Killing Joke. Christopher House’s “interpretation” of Joel Gibb’s songs is best skimmed over, as the point of this show was its liberatory energy — if you’re not afraid to play a bum note or shake some awkward booty in front of several hundred people in that kind of rarefied atmosphere, then you’re nothing if not empowered. To this end, the dancers pulled the less terrified audience members onto the floor with them for the encore. Handing over the instruments would have been the next step, but sadly, democracy usually sounds like shit. — JD
File next to: “Next up on Toronto-1... musicians and dancers: the hottest new dating combo!”
I CAN PUT MY ARM BACK ON YOU CAN’T
s/t (self-released, www.listofcontents.ca)
The unwieldy name comes from an old War Amps commercial in which a gormless robot swings through a rotating saw blade, then tells kids to “play safe.” Danger, of course, is what attracts this Toronto four-piece, and is the heat their music emits. Driven by the hot riffs, Arm Back On are “tighter than a facelift,” as Smokey Campbell would say, befitting a band that practices for a full year before playing their first show. These descendants of the Jehu/RFTC/Hot Snakes family tree and the T-dot’s long-lost Pecola (complete with incoherent hollering of menacing minutiae like “time-and-a-half!”... I think) are only “about the music” but also appear to be an enigmatic art project. I don’t know what they’re trying to say, but I know I could get hurt, and so I want more. — JD
File next to: Yank Crime, Dat Hoang, punishment.
KING GEEDORAH
Take Me To Your Leader (Big Dada, www.bigdada.com)
OK, so I’m late getting on this but holy shit what a rad record. I’m not gonna fool you — absolutely nothing new happens here, but it’s great anyway. Timbaland/Neptunes over-saturation (not that there’s anything wrong with that stuff, it’s just it’s all you ever hear anymore) can induce panic attacks and hyperventilation, but this shit makes you bob your head like you used to. Plus, Biolante and Gigan fucking cut my head in half with a Conan The Destroyer sword before the fourth track and now all this blood is all over my wall and my landlord told me not to paint without his permission. Shit, whoops. — BP
File next to: Badass. Expanding your consciousness with somebody’s wicked rhyme styles.
MICE PARADE
Obrigado Saudade
(Fat Cat/Bubble Core, www.fat-cat.co.uk)
This is a true treat for fans of everything from Segovia to Fennesz. Indeed this album will appeal to the most discerning music fan and gear-head alike. Taking cues from the recent trend to mix organic playing and original percussion alongside sample constructions that have made Four Tet a household name (whose house is that? —populist ed.), this is a true pleasure from start to finish. At times it sounds not unlike a mash-up of Spanish guitar, hammered dulcimer and a jazz drum instruction album as envisioned by Stars of The Lid. Adam Pierce is by trade a percussionist for The Dylan Group, so it’s no surprise that his project is heavily rhythmic with a lattice of incredibly dense overdubs and bright textures. It seems to fit together seamlessly though, with a very bright and gentle sound that’s truly comforting. Incredibly diverse stuff, and sure to be your next favourite record. — SV
File next to: Four Tet, Tortoise, “Flamencotronica,” yin and yang of the acoustic/electronic.
THE MIDWAYS
s/t (self-released)
With their new EP, The Midways bring back high energy psychedelic pop. Go-go dancers gyrate, as track one “Got No Right!” swings into procession. The tambourines jangle violently, the singer screams his protest “you’ve got no right,” the keyboard performs a solo. “(What You Said) Last Night” begins with a guitar hook that seethes into more tambourine jangles and keyboard solos. By track three, “Find Another Girl,” the formula becomes predictable. The brash, soulful white-man vocals recall infidelities, the keyboard player exhibits another solo, the tambourines... Unfortunately, the featured instrument, the keyboard, tends to lag behind the rest of the band’s speedy tempo. This entire EP could be confused for one song. It is a relief it is, in its entirety, only seven minutes long, or the world might get frustrated by the repetition. The ‘60s offered more than one song, and I suggest The Midways venture a little further if they wish to release anything longer. — SV
File next to: Stalling on the highway, midway to good.
ONEIDA
Secret Wars
(Three Gut/Jagjaguwar/Rough Trade, www.threegutrecords.com)
Holy fuck! Secret Wars is the head fuck! The feet fuck! And well... the ass fuck! Of 2004! ...And I can't get enough! Hoooly fuck! I love world! — SW
File next to: Yummy soft candies! And homemade buckets!
PIPAS
Golden Square
(Annika, www.plumasbouncer.com/llc/)
Every once in a while, a band comes along that makes you swoon with their quaint melodies and stark simplicity. Everything But The Girl did it in their early days and so do Ivy now. Carefree and sun-kissed songs that you can hold close to your heart on cold winter mornings for comfort. The kind of stuff that brings a smile to your face even for a brief moment as you find yourself suddenly lost in its cuteness factor, like watching a kitten. With several slightly melancholy do-do-do’s and ba-ba-ba’s in their arsenal, this duo from East London of Mark Powell and Lupe Nuñez-Fernandez creates such simple beauty. This release marks those charming moments between the big things that happen in your life. Linus never had it so good. — SV
File next to: Club 8, Marine Girls, Papas Fritas and other such things of pure pop brilliance.
PRINCE
1999 (Warner)
OK, so I’m late getting on this but holy shit what a rad record. Everybody knows Prince is rad, but why are you just buying a best-of or the Purple Rain soundtrack? MSDR, dude. MSDR. — BP
File next to: It’s Prince. You don’t file next to unless it’s HMV (baaarf).
B.A.S.C. of Evil (Kelp, www.kelprecords.com)
The following is a re-creation of this CD’s first track, “Introduction (B.A.S.C. of Evil)”: A creepy electronic cinematic string section slowly fades in, a thudding sound that sounds like a midnight church bell ringing or heavy feet creeping down the hallway outside your bedroom. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. CBC’s Brave New Waves presents a Kelp Records recording of Professor Undressor horror opus. And now, ‘B.A.S.C of Evil.’ ” There is a sudden orchestra hit. The cinematic strings swirl. Horns howl. “The piece begins in a graveyard just past the hour of midnight. The skies are dark, save the brilliant silver flash of forked lightning. But none of this is apparent to you, in your cold stony tomb. Only the sole memory of hunger wakens you from your sleep. It draws you out for your first feed.” And then a low frequency blast of static that sounds like a torrential downpour of rain, or maggots scratching along the underbelly of a coffin, becomes audible, simmering in the background. Professor Undressor’s “B.A.S.C of Evil” is a haunted audio fairy tale that combines all of the admirable qualities of old-fashioned radio theatre, experimental electronic music and classic computer/video game narratives into an entertaining performance piece worthy of repeated listens. — LP
File next to: Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video, All Hallow’s Eve.
RADIO DEPT.
Pulling Our Weight (Labrador, www.labrador.se)
This five-song EP boasts the same raw, noisy, reverb-drenched energy of their previous release, Lesser Matters, but with a more refined and focused approach. The guitars are still sweeping and intense. The vocals still sound like they’re coming at you from across a cathedral. The melodies still make you feel happy to be sad and sad to be happy. Yet there is a better blending of these elements, and it keeps me playing the songs over and over. More accurately, I play the whole EP over and over, beginning to end. Somehow it just doesn’t sound right to leave any songs out; there is definitely a sense of wholeness to this. Pay special attention to the middle track, “I Don’t Need Love, I’ve Got My Band” (one of the best titles I’ve seen in a long time), it brings it all together. A must-have disc! — MB
File next to: Anything from Creation Records circa 1991.
ROCK PLAZA CENTRAL
The World Was Hell To Us (www.rockplazacentral.com)
This fourth release from Toronto musician and author Chris Eaton is definitely worth a listen. A unique mix of endearing country weirdness; quirky, off-kilter reminiscences of love and excellent capturing from the ear of Andy Magoffin. There’s a genuineness here that’s missing from a lot of CDs these days. Fiery jump-ups are laid down in a really interesting way alongside rural introspective pieces (including a truly inspired Jane Siberry cover). There’s something that reminds me of Walker Evans’s Depression-era photos in all this. A haunting undertone exists with a bit of a southern gothic, fire and brimstone revival feel. These little stories seem to be done by a drunken country orchestra, as if part of a stage play in a run-down tar-paper shack. I’d definitely buy tickets for that show and they’d probably be printed on ancient parchment with blood and sweat. — SV
File next to: rural Gord Downies, more Magoffin miracles, Flannery O’Connor stories.
SILO THE HUSKIE
Sons of Columbus (Tiberius, www.tiberiusrecords.com)
For some reason Cargo Records decided not to release Sons of Columbus. Taking up the reins in their absence and seeing to it that people hear this excellent record is Tiberius Records, whose work in seeing to it that Sons of Columbus saw the light of day does not go unappreciated. After 11 years as a band, Silo the Huskie seem to be only just now settling into a real groove. This album finds them sounding perfectly comfortable with their sound and using this relaxed feeling to churn out some incredibly strong roots rock. From the kick-in-the-ass opener “When To Run,” the tone of this record is set. Driving, honest-sounding rock’n’roll with nods to Neil Young and Joe Strummer at the same time, Sons of Columbus is a record you’ll be happy you had a chance to hear. — SS
File next to: London Harvest, Comes A Sandinista!
CHAD VANGAALEN
Infiniheart (Catch and Release, www.catch-and-release.org)
Some people are just too talented. They don’t toss and toil through the creative process — they breeze through it, it just flows out if them and they just can’t stop it. They don’t want, they only need. Chad VanGaalen is, probably, one of these people. He’s been sitting in his room for ten years, procuring perfect pieces of indie rock bliss and now, finally, he’s ventured into the light of the outdoors to show them off. So the rest of us gasp for air. Like the love-child of Neil Young and Issac Brock if he were raised on some subliminal Jeff Buckley, a few Prefuse beats as deciphered through a wall, many twisted sci-fi novels and a whole lot of deranged genius, the boy has emerged from the woodwork with a brilliant, long, shining gem of a record. His eerie narratives unravel in songs like “Blood Machine” and initially weird you out until you submit to your true freakiness and let go while he croons at you, “Please, please, please, help us escape... from the blood machine” in the sweetest, eeriest tone of desperation. One way or either, these songs are totally affecting. — SDT
File next to: Creeping out your siblings as a kid, growing up to reveal your artistic eccentricity and being damn well worshipped for it.
VARIOUS ARTISTS
...And You Can Suck My Disc Too (mydiscsucks@yahoo.ca)
An eclectic collection of indie rock of all colours, the Suck My Disc Collective presents this, their second compilation of local artists. Featuring such acts as The Postage Stamps and The Patients, the quality of each of the songs on this collection is staggering. Jessie Stein’s “From You” perfectly encapsulates her delightful vocal delivery and sunny songwriting style, while Mississauga’s Proeliis Fere offer up what is likely the most interesting and strongest track on the CD with “Song One.” A 12-minute epic of what could be a instrumental B-side from an old (read: good) Metallica record, this mind-blowing aural masterwork of a song provides a fitting prelude to Starlust’s “Untitled,” a Brian Eno-esque conclusion to the compilation. — SS
File next to: All those other indie rock compilations you own... because there are so many...
WINTARY
s/t (www.soundclick.com/wintary)
I listened to this CD while trudging through the snow and minus-30 degree weather, and I found it ironic that a band named Wintary could make me forget how cold it was outside. This is an absorbing debut from a group that has been playing together and experimenting with different genres since 1998. Over the course of eight songs, musicians Serge Slipache, Peter Denes and Anthony Lorusso pull you from engaging experimental electronic sounds (“Throughit”) into gentle and charming indie pop tunes (“Commonman”). Plus they use a tape machine. I love the tape machine! It provides the sounds of children’s voices, Polaroid picture noises, twisted trumpets, and other strange, distorted conversations on “Ghostfate,” which beautifully contrasts with Slipache’s delicate vocals. But the song that’ll get you dancing is “Free Radio” — a perfect blend of Wintary’s electronic and indie pop elements, it’s wonderful and sad and fun, and will make this blasted season a little more tolerable. — SK
File next to: Come see them live at Wavelength on February 29th and make up your own category.
THE WORLD PROVIDER
Deep Inside The World Provider (Perfect School; thatworldprovider@yahoo.com)
If this were a perfect world, this teeny-tiny CD would also come with a small bendy action figure sporting a sweat-suit. A removable sweat-suit, under which he would be sporting tighty-whiteys. Since the world is flawed by a cruel and vengeful god, we must be content to just enjoy the wonderful goodness of The World Provider in audio form. This CD totally rules and is surprisingly pro, considering the lo-fi sound of his live show. It makes me dance myself silly in my bedroom. Opening track “Big City Girls” sets the tone for a danceable disco-y sunshiny summertime bare-feet-in-rollerskates kind of music. Another one of Toronto’s jewels pulled from us by cold, cold, desolate, bone-chilling soulless French Montreal. Tabernac! — JP
File next to: The awesome feeling of lying down on a beach towel after coming out of a pool dripping wet.
MB = MB, SDT = STAR DT, JD = JONNY DOVERCOURT, JP = JAPANNA , SK = SARAH KOLASKY, JL = JULIE LYRAE, RM = RYAN MCLAREN, BP = BUDDY OF THE PINES,
LP = L POUNDS, SW = SOMEWOLF, AS = ANNE SULIKOWSKI, SS = SAM SUTHERLAND, SV = STEVEN VENN
Send material for review to: Send material for review to: Wavelength, PO Box 86010 -- 670 Bloor St. W. Toronto ON M6G 1L2, attn: Star DT or email star@wavelengthtoronto.com