2/26/2019 0 Comments SWMRS - Berkley's On FireI recently learned that Billie Joe Armstrong's son is the drummer for the strange blend of people and music that comes together in the California-based band SWMRS. I really don't know how to work that into this post, other than just stating it as an introductory reason to listen to this band. Their sound is primarily punk rock, but with a heavy emphasis on creative production, and that's truly where their talents shine; they can bring out the most interesting and most creative elements of the songwriting process. Although they have a fairly extensive back catalogue of albums and EPs as Emily's Army dating back to 2010, the group opted for a name change to SWMRS for their 2015 album Drive North and have not looked back. I wouldn't say Berkley's On Fire surpasses Drive North, but it easily equals it. Both offerings are diverse in their style and variety, but take very different directions; it would be like comparing While Drive North focused on the energy and punk sensibilities of loud, guitar driven songs like D'you Have A Car, and Harry Dean, this new album retains the same punk mentality, but puts it in a different perspective. The opening titular track Berkley's On Fire sounds like what would happen if you put an angry Rivers Cuomo in a room with the Talking Heads and a drum machine, and told them to write a hip hop track. The album continues with the mid-level energy of Too Much Coffee, a relatable indie rock piece that proclaims, "I drank too much coffee and I didn't eat breakfast," and Trashbag Baby, which is my personal favourite track. Trashbag Baby has all the energy that I love about SWMRS, and it would fit right in with the wave of mid-2000's guitar rock that came out of the UK. It's equal parts catchy, driven, and melodic, and could maybe be a breakout radio single if it weren't for the title. Moving further into the album, it also features examples of their wide-ranging palate, from the longing, emotional track IKEA Date, to the intensely catchy anthem Hellboy. Berkley's On Fire concludes with the hilarious hiphop-esque groove Steve Got Robbed. I know it's a novelty track, full of 90's beats and squeaky guitars, but it's one of my favourites. The band rhymes San Fransisco with San Fran-shitshow, and that should tell you all you need to know about it. It's goofy and enjoyable. That being said, looking past the novelty it also shows the band's growth and willingness to experiment with sound. The album as a whole bridges influences of punk rock with hiphop, indie, post-punk, and a variety of British textures into something new through great production. Seriously, check it out. SWMRS are playing The Phoenix in Toronto this April. It's sure to be an energetic show. ~Fonfur
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2/25/2019 0 Comments Life's What You Make ItToday, Mark Hollis passed away at 64. I know that name won't mean a lot to a number of people, but I really think that it should, because he was a groundbreaking musician, and moreover, the definition of musical integrity. He was someone who inspired me, and drew my attention to the special ambience of music. Things don't have to be complicated to evoke emotion; things are what you make of them. He paved the path of Radiohead's career choices long before they were called Radiohead, and without him, the genres post-rock and art-pop would be an extremely different world today.
Let's start with what most people would know about him. Do you remember No Doubt's early 2000's hit song It's My Life? Well, Hollis wrote that 20 years prior with his band Talk Talk. It was the song that garnered them international fame as synth pop aficionados. For the first few years of their career, they reached the pop charts multiple times with songs such as It's My Life, Such A Shame, Today, and the self titled song, Talk Talk. The band could have had a long, prosperous career as pop stars. But it was never where Hollis' true interests lay. Hollis was always more fascinated by musicianship than by pop stardom; the follow up to Talk Talk's internationally acclaimed pop album It's My Life marked a drastic change from synthpop to a more ambient art pop approach. That album was titled The Colour Of Spring. It featured songs like Life's What You Make It and April 5th, and abandoned electronic elements and anthemic choruses in favour of pensive themes and analog sound textures. Put simply, it was an unexpected and drastic change, but inspirational to musicians. This was a band that didn't want to play by the industry rules. They flat out refused to; Spirit Of Eden, the album after Colour Of Spring, was an even further step in the stray away from pop. It was a commercial flop, and was considered career suicide by many. But the band simply didn't give a damn. Pop success meant nothing to them anymore. By their final album, 1991's Laughing Stock, Hollis had abandoned the idea of a chorus, or even cohesive structure, entirely. The sessions were mainly recorded impromptu, much of it being studio musicians being called in to lay down tracks with no context. Hollis then spent hours painstakingly putting everything together. As a result the album was impossible to play live, but is a masterpiece of spatial sentiment, blending jazz, classical, and new age, while still maintaining an efficient minimalism. The second track, Ascension Day is a personal favourite, and shows precisely where iconic alternative bands like Radiohead draw their inspiration. One of Hollis' biggest beliefs was that you should never listen to music as background music. Music is made to be appreciated, to inspire, to be a personal and spiritual experience. It's a mantra I've lived by for a very long time. He has characteristically refused interviews, and refused a good many questions while in interviews. He hadn't toured for the past 30 years, and had all but retired from music entirely before the turn of the millennium. Even now, almost half a day since I read about his passing, there has been no official confirmation. He had no PR team or official channels by which to announce the information. He was that removed from the public eye. No matter how many more words I write, I'll never fully sum up how crucial Mark Hollis has been to music. He was an enigma, and an outlier in his time. But even if the words do nothing, please, do yourself a favour: Start with The Colour Of Spring, and listen through to his 1998 solo album. Buy any of them you can find on vinyl. Get lost in the sound; feel the emotion; truly appreciate it. He would've wanted that. ~Fonfur 2/21/2019 0 Comments The Finer Details #4 - The Recording Process & The Revolving Door of Bassists (2017)Rob was never going to be a permanent fix in Fonfur, and I knew that going in. He was a friend doing me a favour to help us get our start. His band Valley had been steadily taking off since 2015 and understandably, he had to commit more and more time to that. Around the beginning of 2017 I ran into David Dellio, an old bandmate of mine from before Manshun, and he said he was more than willing to take Rob's place. He was with us for a few months, including for the initial recording of the 2 song Denim Dogs demo. That original demo was recorded between two places. The drums were done by Ashton Price at Morph Productions in Toronto (we actually tracked 3 songs, and only ever used two), and everything else was tracked in my parents' basement in Burlington on a single SM57 microphone. That includes 2 guitar amps, 2 vocal channels, and a bass amp (bass was blended with a DI signal from the amp). For such a rudimentary setup, the session turned out pretty well. Mike mixed it over the next two months, and the outcome was a 2 track single, with Denim Dogs as the A side and the spacey but intense song Watercolours as side B. In all honestly, I had completely forgotten about the existence of that song until writing this. We played a show at The Rockpile in April, and announced the single to be due out in May. It ended up being released on May 1, 2017. Following the single release David began his annual job working at a summer camp, and we parted ways. We didn't want to have to take summers off from the band entirely, and so when we got back to back shows in Kitchener and Waterloo that June (again with King's Limit), Rob was temporarily back in the lineup while we looked for someone new. Those shows were a ton of fun; I think the house show we played at the Mount Anne Music House was my favourite we've done to this day. It was also amazing to say "hey we have music online, please go check it out!" Especially when people actually did go check it out. The song was played (and charted) on CFMU McMaster College Radio that summer, which was a completely surreal moment. It was also played on a Canadiana oriented program on a community radio station down in Texas, along artists such as indie rock beauty Chad VanGaalen, west coast heartthrobs Said The Whale, and a Montreal surf punk band called No Aloha. It still blows my mind that our homemade demo reached the radio in any sort of capacity, and it definitely gave us the kick we needed to say, "hey we can do this, let's take the next step," which is when I reached out to Taylor Lucas about recording a full EP with him. He was more than happy to help us out, and we organized a 6-track EP with him that September. I'll save that story for next time. There's one more person to include in this revolving door of bassists. Seeing as Rob couldn't stay forever, we enlisted the help of producer, engineer, and all around swell guy Sasha Szlafarski to play bass through the fall of 2017. We only ended up booking one show; October 20th at Mill's Hardware, with The Kerouacs and Oh Geronimo. We practiced with him for about 3 weeks leading up to the event, and in an anticlimactic fashion, it ended up being cancelled on the day of due to Ciaran of OG losing his voice. Sasha remains a true friend, but he did not remain Fonfur's bassist, and tragically never played a show with us. 'Til next time. ~Fonfur 2/19/2019 0 Comments Hollerado - One Last TimeAll good things must come to an end, and after 12 years Hollerado have decided to call it a day. In truth, I'm not extremely surprised; singer Menno Versteeg is running Royal Mountain Records, which is a full time gig on its own, and guitarist Nixon Boyd has found his passion in producing music (Dizzy, The Look Back Now, Bossie). While this is a sad day for them and their fans, I believe it's the right call given where their lives have led them. Hollerado are one of the trio of bands that I consider to be the late 2000's Toronto indie staples, along with Born Ruffians and Tokyo Police Club. Starting with their uniquely packaged Record In A Bag in 2010, Hollerado carved out their own Canadian niche with their energetic indie rock/power pop hybrid sound. Through all of their following releases, they've solidified their reputation as energetic, fun loving musicians, and moreover as kindhearted, lovable people. One Last Time is the first offering from their final album, titled Retaliation Vacation. It's the first album they made completely by themselves, from producing to mixing, and the goofy rhyming of the album title is very characteristically them. The song itself is also a powerful track. One Last Time features the upbeat guitars, multilayered vocals, and sheer genuine enthusiasm that Hollerado does so well, but with an underlying emotional sincerity knowing this is their homage to the end. The reflective nature is strengthened by the music video, a home-shot compilation of footage from the band's early years. It's a wild ride that's well worth the watch. Side note: The last time I saw Hollerado, Menno kicked a beach ball directly into the mic stand, launching the mic into the air, where I caught it single handedly. The look of surprise on his face was absolutely genuine as he came up to grab it from me, and I'll never forget what he said: "Man, that was the coolest thing you'll ever do in your entire life." Still in awe, all I mustered was, "yeah I know..." Menno, I'm ready to prove you wrong. #FonfurOnRoyalMountain2k19 ~Fonfur Ah, basement rehearsal spaces. It's always basement rehearsal spaces when you're just starting out. When last we spoke, James and I had begun pursuing a project apart from our main gig of Manshun. We were looking for more of a creative outlet than Manshun provided us; a band we could foster into something that was our own. It was around this time in summer 2016, while hanging out with Rob Laska (yeah him again), that I was introduced by the enthusiastic and eccentric character of Michael Schroeder. Mike had moved to Ontario from Manitoba in order to attend Metalworks, and be closer to the hub of musical talent Toronto had to offer. We bonded fairly quickly over our shared love of We Are Scientists, as well as an obscure Japanese indie band called The Pillows, and I realized that with his expressed interest in guitar based indie rock he would be a good fit for the sound James and I were looking for. We had him out for a practice late that summer, rounded out by Rob temporarily on bass, and it clicked. Mike and I have a very complimentary relationship on guitar; he's filled in the gaps of my musical theory knowledge, and I've helped him develop a guitar tone through the use of gear. We alternate rhythm and leads very naturally, and he's an excellent songwriter in his own right; personally I think Little Birdsong is one of the standout tracks from the EP. The name we settled with early on was Local Notion, which was chosen primarily because of wordplay titles; Sitting By The Ocean by Local Notion, Love Potion = Lasting Devotion by Local Notion, Locomotion Commotion by Local Notion, and so on and so forth. And it was under this name we started to write music. Since I hadn't been writing for Manshun, I had time to compile old unused ideas, and so I presented riffs and lyrics I had written years prior at practices. Some things that even had roots in previous bands, including Juno and Denim Dogs, the latter of which was our starting point as a band. The song came together very quickly, as I had already developed the structure. I think that having that starting point made jamming together much easier after that song as well, since we had already begun to gel by playing together on something more concrete. Eighteen, New Rules, and the now forgotten song Sherman Cut were written in quick succession after that through the early fall. Our first show was October 15th, at Gordy's Brewhouse in London, which we were offered by a band called Ezra Adolescent (now called King's Limit). I had met them at a party two weeks beforehand, and their opener dropped out on them. It was not a glamorous gig by any means, but it was a place to start, and it put pressure on us to finish the songs we were working on. And while not all of them made the cut, that early writing period was really when a lot of that first EP came together. We continued writing and started recording throughout the winter, but were fairly quiet in terms of shows. It was around that time we also decided that we should change our name. More than one person had made the comparison of 'Local Notion' being close to 'Local Natives,' and we pre-emptively opted to switch to Fonfur before releasing any music. I know I've had a lot of people ask me about this one, and to clear things up, Fonfur is a completely nonsensical word that Rob came up with. His idea was to create a word with no connotations; people can't decide what they think of it based on a pre-defined meaning, they have to create their own. Plus, it's easier to come up in google searches that way. Personally, I like the name because 'Fonfur' is an anagram of 'for fun,' which at the end of the day is why we do music. We enjoy it wholeheartedly. ~Fonfur 2/12/2019 0 Comments Lost Cousins - In SceneryThe first time I ever saw Lost Cousins was at Adelaide Hall (now called RADIO) in Toronto around 2 years ago, and the energy and passion the crowd showed that night told me that this would be a band to watch out for. The group is equal parts pop, experimental and meticulously calculated in their approach to both music and the marketing of it. Lost Cousins are ahead of the curve in many ways. They've been working hard for at least 4 years now, and were one of the first bands I've seen that has well utilized the standalone streaming single to garner interest; it's how they proceeded this album over the past 18 months. They began with Quarters, an infectiously laid back psychedelic pop jam produced by Nixon Boyd (of Hollerado), before launching into the release of album singles throughout 2018. Among them, the standout singalong Mindmaker, and the powerful, early-Killers-reminiscent guitar driven City Escape. Since I discovered them, their powerful, ambient melodies and enigmatic methods have had me enticed, constantly wanting and waiting for more releases. The singles have been like dangling carrots leading up to this moment, and it has not disappointed. The 9 track offering flows seamlessly, and shows their depth as a musical unit; upon digestion, it's evident that some non-single album tracks would fare extremely well as singles. Cue Montreal, a 4 minute track that starts out with an almost Death Cab For Cutie level of innocent sincerity, before transforming into a straightforward powerhouse. The chorus then resolves back into a sincere aura, the words "We'll move to Montreal, to Montreal" ringing out with cathartic passion. The album as a whole is pensive and yet defined; airy but with confidence. This is not just a collection of songs, it's a cohesive unit of feelings, and it demonstrates much more maturity than a debut album. In both sound and technique, this is an album that sounds like seasoned group of veteran musicians going on their second, or even third label release. In short, it's a beautifully crafted piece of music. Lost Cousins have done an incredible job through hard work and independent experimentation. I recommend putting this band on your radar, and picking up a copy of their album ASAP. They play this Friday at The Great Hall in Toronto to celebrate the release, and will be supported by Sportsfan, and another one of my favourite bands, Basement Revolver. I really hope to see you there. ~Fonfur Greetings fellow minstrels, musicians, and drum connoisseurs. I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss the percussive clinks and clanks of Fonfur’s sound; how it was formed, and methods I’ve employed to fill it with rocket sauce. If you are looking for a modern drummers’ commentary on the current vibrations of the Toronto music scene and beyond, I will try to point praise where it is deserved. Upon the formation of Fonfur in late 2016, I was feeling frustrated and stalled in my efforts of fitting the mould of what I thought a traditional rock drummer should sound like. For a long time, I found the most interesting drummers were the ones who reached outside of the backbeat and disregarded solid tempo in favour of progressive showmanship. As a result, my naïve young outlook was desperately trying to be the best I could be too quickly. I learned the basic techniques, jumped to the top, and then worked down to the simple stuff. I looked at Fonfur as a clean slate where I could throw convention aside, and scheme to bring about something fresh. To start, I asked myself, ‘how can I play the most basic beat, but play it unconventionally, with some unique gusto?” In previous groups I’d made the mistake of playing too progressively; overcomplicating the rhythm for the sake of showmanship when the music did not call for it. At eighteen years of age, it was all about having a big kit, using a double bass pedal and playing as fast as I could. Then, after years of breaking my back lugging around multiple toms, roto-toms and an endless tree fort of cymbal stands, I finally came around to the ‘less is more’ method. The double bass pedal hit the chopping block, and the kit was downsized to a four-piece. I could supplement the missing acoustic elements with hybrid drumming (a mix of acoustic and electronic pads). Timing is everything, and it was no exception that in and around 2016, near the inception of Fonfur, my ear was captured by the indie/alternative drummers of the time. Among them, Thom Sonny Green of Alt-J, Joe Seaward of Glass Animals, Dylan Phillips of Half Moon Run, Chris Bear of Grizzly Bear, and Hawksley Workman of Mounties. There’s a certain breed of drummer with a disregard for the conventional bare-basic indie motif. Personally, I find a good chunk of indie drumming to be a bore, which I think is why no one talks about it very often. Indie drummers are rarely household names, and are often the least known members of the bands. I tried to use some variation by playing different parts of the drum kit to keep time rather than using hi-hats or cymbals; if you give it a good listen, you’ll find there’s almost no hi-hat work in the debut Fonfur record. Initially, the plan was to emphasize the “four-on-the-floor” bass drum quarter notes, which can be heard in songs like “Denim Dogs”, “Juno” and “New Rules” throughout. It is no surprise these three were the first songs that were arranged for the record. Could I strictly keep time with my right hand playing the rim of the alto-tom for a whole song? In theory, it sounds pointless. The hoops give off almost no tone, but it’s the crack of the drumstick that creates the defining “click”. As a result, I won’t use anything skinnier than a 5A stick (stay with me, I’m on a roll). In addition to the time keeping with rimshots, I’ve found room for accents with the bell of the ride and off-beat snare shots. The snare is always angled flat and slightly away from me, so that I maximize the volume with a loud ‘crack!’ By striking the rim at the same time as the drum, you are maximizing your volume while simultaneously causing a nightmare for the sound engineer. Fonfur has introduced me to a string of talented drummers through the networking process of playing shows. I would be lying if I claimed to not take some sort of influence; whether it be playing style, method or equipment. I enjoy the general outlook they give on both their craft and the current scene and where it is going. They have moved the progression of my own playing through inspiration, intrigue, and most importantly: excitement. The hard-hitting precision of Cole Mortillaro (Big Lonely), the raw energy and polyrhythmic intimidation of Mike Poisson (Milhouse), the eclectic rhythms of Karah McGillivray (Valley), and the effortlessly focused, and perfectly calm, casual, collected badass-ery of Brandon Munro (Basement Revolver). The point is that you don’t have to be an overly technical wizard to be appreciated. On the reverse of the same coin, you can play the basics and still be interesting. Go for the unconventional while keeping the bare bones of the structure. If there is a will, there is a way. Shoot for something new and creative, always! I would like to continue this piece periodically in a series of installments regarding gear and my musings on drums and music in general. If you have made it this far in the article, I thank you for your interest. I find the lack of drum talk amongst the musical community somewhat disappointing, and I think the discussion needs to begin somewhere. Until next time, fellow bongo-bashers and string-fiddling minstrels of overdone reverberation. Your friend, James Young Edited by Pavel Soltys Around the spring of 2015, a lot of my life was changing. I was taking some time off from school and working 40 hours a week, met a girl, and started writing songs again after a 2 year break from music. I ended up answering a Craigslist ad in November, for a band called Manshun, fronted by the strange and likeable Liam Driscoll. Liam had recorded and released a full EP that I thought was really really solid, and set out to build a band to support it. As a member of this project, I was introduced to things such as LCD Soundsystem, Slowdive, and drummer James Young. We rehearsed for a month and a half, and played our first show on January 12th, 2016 at the Linsmore Tavern in Toronto's east end. It was liberating, being able to play onstage again, even if the stage was a bar floor. I'll never forget putting my capo on the wrong fret, and playing half of one of the songs out of key as a result. It was a real life nightmare for me, and a real learning experience. We returned to practicing for the spring, and over the summer played a (now defunct) venue called The Central, right behind where Honest Ed's once stood, followed by The Dickens in Burlington. It was a great summer, but come September Liam moved to Montreal to start school and Manshun was more or less put on hold. That fall of 2016 was when James first messaged me, and said "hey, let's start a band," to which I replied "hey, sure!" and so we began toying with the idea of a two piece band, covering songs by the Pack AD and Sam Roberts, among others, as a two piece. More on that next time. In 2017, Manshun became a summer thing. We played a few sparse shows with Rob Laska (see, I told you he'd come up again) as our fill in bassist. We also dropped a single, and James and I made independent trips up to Montreal in the fall to track for the next EP. My experience was a wild, caffeine fuelled ride. I made the drive to Montreal by myself, while sick on a Friday afternoon, on very little sleep. Saturday was a 14 hour studio day from 10am until midnight, and upon deciding I didn't want to stay another night in Montreal, I left the studio and drove all the way back home to Burlington. I would not recommend that experience to anyone, but it really got me acquainted with that whole concept of the musician lifestyle, and I learned that 5 hour energy really works wonders. I arrived home at 7:30 in the morning, just in time to meet my mom as she was getting up. Manshun lasted up until the end of 2018, with our final EP being released right on December 31st. James and I were really enjoying Fonfur, Liam was still in Montreal, and was having some success with his other band Little Boxer, and our bassist Mario was interested in pursuing more of his solo music. We decided collectively that a hiatus made sense for the time being. Having 2 EP's and a standalone single under our belt, James and I owe a lot of our early learning experiences to Liam. Fonfur wouldn't exist without the time and experiences we had with Liam and the rotating lineup of bassists. And Manshun may return someday, according to our final facebook post we're aiming for a 2033 reunion. So stay tuned for that... ~Fonfur Oh boy. It's been about 3 years since the departure of guitarist Rostam Batmanglij, and about 6 years since Vampire Weekend put out music at all. And I'm going to admit that my initial reaction to their Father Of The Bride double single of Harmony Hall + 2021 is a somewhat mixed bag. I'll also be the first to admit that the band as a whole was an acquired taste to me. Many of my friends were always big fans, but initially I found the band to be fairly pretentious. It wasn't until 2011 or so, when I heard some punchy, upbeat song called A-Punk repeatedly at school events, that I really gave them a chance. Upon doing my research, I came to appreciate the band for their off the wall sensibilities and Ezra Koenig's often eccentric lyrics. Vampire Weekend occupy the same folder of my brain as Starbucks and Ivy League universities. They're kind of the 'it' band for self proclaimed 'cultured' alternative-minded upper-middle class Americans, which to me personifies what America wants to be. Regarding the single, I think I was hoping that this new single would have some of that same single-oriented 'rah rah' that hits like A-Punk, Cousins, and Unbelievers share, but it's not the case. While it is well produced, and features the promised 'spring-time' vibe Ezra mentioned back in 2017, it just doesn't catch me like much of their previous albums have. It sounds like an off-kilter pop song written by 11 producers, instead of a tight knit band of friends, which is what I've appreciated about the band for so long now. However, I will give VW props for bringing back the double track single. The 2nd A-side, a short sombre song called 2021, is self reflective in nature, even though it spends its 1:36 run time speculating about the future. Its short, honest nature resonates much more with me than the lead single. The way the guitars mix together in the middle of the song is cathartic, and the vocals sound like they were done in a single take, right down to the seemingly ad-libbed 'chk-uh-tss' and 'mmmm,' thrown in throughout the first verse. But even for all the good things about 2021, it still clocks in at less than 2 minutes. The good news for me, though, is that even if the tracks leave something to be desired I can hopefully find what I'm looking for on the 16 other tracks featured on the album. Father of The Bride currently has no set release date, but is coming out sometime this spring, according to the band. At a guess, I'd say April. I have my methods. ~Fonfur I've been a huge fan of local music since the beginning, and I've always wanted to have a platform to shed some light on those smaller bands that inspired me. Bands that I think deserve much greater recognition than they ever received in their initial run. I'd like to start today with a band I discovered accidentally in my time working at the library around 2012, a Toronto outfit called The Coast. The Coast originally began under the name The July 26th Movement. As The July 26th Movement, they independently released an EP called Take A Walk Outside on July 6th, 2004, before quickly renaming themselves The Coast, after a Paul Simon song for their self-titled 2006 EP. The band consisted of Ben Spurr, Ian Fosbery, and brothers Luke & Jordan Melchiorre, four university-age students from the GTA. I want to focus on their 2008 release Expatriate, in particular. This album is one of the reasons I consider artwork so crucial to an album; if I hadn't been drawn to that aspect of the record, I never would have known it existed. The album was produced & mixed by Chris Stringer, and released on Afternoon Records (subsidiary of Warner Music) in Canada. It’s a 40-minute collection of beautifully crafted indie rock goodness. My first introduction to the album, apart from the colourful artwork, were the songs Tightrope and Nueva York. The former is an upbeat indie pop gem, with the chorus chanting out the group vocals "hey hey you!" while Ben questions "what are you waiting for?" gently underneath. The latter is a fast paced piano track, carried by its near frantic tempo and lyrics, breaking out into the first verse saying 'I've got bones to pick with you.' But, while both of these songs are amazing selections as singles, neither comes close to my favourites from the album. For that we'll start with the song Killing Off Our Friends, which captivated me with both its title and its familiarity. It's a beautifully written song, kicking off with a feel that reminds me of Broken Social Scene's early work, mixed in with more garage-indie oriented vocals. Little electronic samples, almost artifact-like effects are peppered in throughout the song, giving it depth and character. The song concludes with a reverb-driven interlude that carries seamlessly into my favourite track, the reflective and atmospheric Ceremony Guns. Lyrically, the song is only two verses and no chorus. But after those verses, it builds into an explosively euphoric crescendo at exactly 2:00, and carries you down the wave as the reverb and the guitars calm down over the next minute. I'll let you decide whether you want to explore the rest, but I highly recommend it. Lend your ears to this all but lost piece of Toronto music, because to my ears it sounds just as current today as it did 11 years ago. ~Pav |
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April 2019
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