The sweetest things...

It was the DOXA silent auction last night. It was a great time, made all that much better by this pillow, strategically won by yours truly, and made by the fantastically talented Beth, who was generous enough to donate two of them for the auction. They were two of the most popular items there, and you can see why. And I wanted them both, but felt greedy so let another anxious bidder win the second. After all, I am already lucky enough to own this one.

Look at that nest. Seriously. I cannot imagine anything more fantastic.

Thom had to give the new addition the sniff test. I think he likes the nest too.

the hood

Went for a walk with the camera. I am posting too much because of this damn camera. Oh well.

Anyway, this blue building impressed me, only for the incredible commitment to a particularly intense blue. Every inch of the place except the front door is blue. A nice blue, if you are a birds egg; maybe not so much if you are a large building like this one.

And lo, across the street is this example of what harm you can do to a house when you slap on some bad siding and ugly slider windows. These two are neighbours - same house, two different ... styles. Yikes.

JanVision™

My parents came over the other day and my Mum very graciously offered to make me a simple curtain for the front door window. I am sure my current solution (two pillow cases taped to the door with painters tape) has been driving her a bit bonkers for ages. Granted, it looked awful. Really. And the tape failed on a regular basis (as you can see it did this morning) which sort of negates the whole purpose of having drapes in the first place. But I have JanVision™ , which is the amazing ability to make offensive things like the pillow-drapes darn near invisible. I find it works quite well on the hole in my kitchen ceiling (which has been there since I moved in, thanks to my special-needs drywaller), the vinyl flooring in the bathroom that floats on the subfloor like a carpet, the green/purple mix kitchen wallpaper - I could go on. My Mum doesn't have JanVision™, which usually works to my advantage in some way, as it did this time. Thanks Mum!

As an aside, the removal of the pillow-curtains meant that Thomas "the Gnarler" was presented with a whole slew of his favorite thing to chew, painters tape. Miss Mags, not impressed with tape, is watching the oncoming storm out the front window. Yes, windy season is back, and I am praying to the power gods that my house is spared this time.

*snap*! ...#2

Is it the mouth? the lack of eyebrows? the nostrils? hmmmm.

Give me a 4...give me a 7....

..and some snout to go.


xoxLUme

*snap* !

OK, I know the cat posts might be getting tiresome. But with the new camera, I just can't STOP.

I sent this completely inspired bit of cat-obsessiveness to a pal, and she once again brought up the fact that she thinks Thomas looks like Peter Lorre (I have to admit, the snap of him peeking around the wall as my blog header does remind me a little bit of Dial M for Murder).

Personally, I just can't see it.

OH NO, NOT THE DEATH RAYS!!!

I'm baaaack...

Phew.

The New York/Montreal/Toronto whirlwind tour is over. I cannot remember feeling as exhausted as I did by the end of that trip - ever. There is something about the quarterly board meeting for work (the New York part this time) that takes every atom of energy I have and handily squashes them into super-logey atoms. It helps when the meetings go well, which I don't really think they did. At least not for me. But - New York was great, busy, sweaty, as usual. I have now been introduced to the "Westin Heavenly Bed", which was made all that much more heavenly by a 40" LCD High Def TV. Ahhh, that's the life. Food at Butter (a Sean-P-Puff-Diddy-Daddy hangout - my main motivation for going, of course....not...) wasn't as great as the room it was served in, and dinner at bouncin' Bobby Flay's Bar Americain was not great. At all.

Montreal isn't worth mentioning as I wasn't there long enough to do anything interesting. Actually, I will give a shout out to Porter Air, the short haul airline based in Montreal. Finally, old style flying, with (complimentary) wine in glasses, truffles, snacks, and stewards in Pink Tartan outfits. And the balls to use a very urban raccoon as their marketing symbol.

So, I worked a couple of days in TO, and hung out for a few more. And before I go on, if you are one of my TO pals and I didn't get in touch, sorry, sorry, sorry. I was too tired, and time was too short. Next time, next time. I spent my first two nights at Rancho Relaxo (aka The Cambridge Suites, the only TO hotel I've found with enough room for me to spread out), followed by a stay with my always unbelievably accommodating friends.

And I had the opportunity to use my new (beloved, oh so beloved) camera - there will be more pics soon, but I've managed to capture a couple of Binettis at breakfast and (yes, you're reading right) Ian Tyson. Not at the same time. And for you naysayers, Tyson rocks. For a 70+ year old, he'd still got it going on, and if I was 60, I'd think he was an incredible hottie. My pal A. was doing sound for him at Hugh's Room, and so I tagged along - we ended up eating with the band (of two, both called Gord) and chatting with Ian as he ate his pork chop, which was actually pretty cool. The chatting, not watching Ian eat pork. I should mention this shot was taken from quite a way back, with no flash, using my camera's zoomerific possibilities. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I'm getting there.


My reaction to being back in TO was interesting. I think maybe it was my zombie like tiredness, but I felt a little more nostalgic for the place than usual. And I was faced with a few things that made me take a good (or bad) look at myself. And with a slightly wry internal laugh, I realize that things I thought had changed over the years just ... haven't. Just call me Quiz-kid, and hand me a towel to wipe the blood from my mouth.

So, I came home. Exhausted and a little ... muddled, and a little sad to leave the big smoke behind. But when I opened the door to a chorus of demanding meows, read the note from my Mum about cat vomit, and sat down for a bit, weirdly the exhaustion started to lift. As did the sadness. But I guess that is what being home is supposed to be about.

And as a complete aside, I cannot help but lose myself in the world of winston. Look if you dare.

Such high culture...

Really just playing with the camera... still lots to learn- like how to talk to the hand.

New camera....

Here it is.
And my New York view....regular, and 10X zoom.

Cooool.

Going dark...

I'm do a whirlwind tour of the east over the next week - New York for three days, Montreal for one, and Toronto for 5. 80% of it is work. I am looking forward to the other 20%.
So - my blogging my go dark for a bit. I do have plans to scope out digital cameras while in the big apple, so there may be better pictures than this in the future....we can hope.

Happy 18th.

To my nephew/sometime gardener/possessor of a most excellent, dry sense of humour...

18?
*sigh*
That makes me how old?
(and yes, it ultimately all about me - and at this moment, that includes the pleasure I get teasing you however pathetically with this post... )

How tired is tired?

It's tired. That's all I'm saying. Except maybe that it is too tired to write good concert reviews, but here goes anyway.

The week started with The Fiery Furnaces, which I stumbled into really more on a whim than anything - I only have one album (the quirky Bitter Tea) but had heard good things about their live act. And I've got to say I'm glad I took the chance. Lead singer Eleanor Friedberger has the cool vibe and looks of Patty Smith/Jenny Lewis if you morphed them together. It's been a long time since I've seen a band fronted by a strong female singer, and the rest of the band was great. And tight. All good, once again. There is another (better, likely less tired) review & a good photo here .

And last night was Akron/Family. Brace yourself for a review of another show that was POORLY ATTENDED. Vancouver, I don't get you - pearls before swine, or gortex, or something. I don't get you at all. The last two Akron shows were well attended. And I know, I know. I've gone on about them before. But they deserve my adoration. They deserve everyone's adoration. And granted, the 150 or so that showed up were loving it. But enough of that...

The band has morphed into something quite different than what I've seen the last couple of years - they are up from 4 member to 7, and one of the original members (Ryan Vanderhoof, singing in the link on my earlier post) was missing. It's unclear if he couldn't make the show or he's gone for good, but I hope it is the former. Anyhoo, to be honest there wasn't much room to miss him, between the two drummers, four guitars and keyboards. I am not sure what configuration I prefer. Both have advantages - certainly having 7 moves it into one of my favorite categories - an overabundance of bodies on the stage - but I like the focus of the 4 man shows as well. I'll stop now or I'll just keep going round and round.

It is hard to really explain an Akron show. Except to say it is all consuming, incredibly energetic and leaves you no space to breathe. At all. One song morphs into another, pretty much nonstop. Sounds move from head slamming discord to delicate soft harmony. It is the sort of thing that warrants interpretive dancing. And incense. And probably a mind altering substance or two. I can confirm that at all three things were there, though I won't confirm that I had anything to do with any of them. And I don't know how the band keeps going full bore for so long. The club shut them down at 1am, after at least 2 hours, and it was obvious they would have kept going. And once again Vancouver, for shame for not showing a great band the love they deserve.

I should also mention the opening act - The Dodos. For the second time, Akron/Family has had a really strong opening act - last year it was the Born Ruffians. Both bands have a similar energy and are worth watching out for. I've posted a Dodos clip above - give it a look and listen.

Bunkle Fall

The 'hood is changing it's spots ... catch it while you can, before monsoon season hits.

There was also a pool of pink vomit on the road that I was tempted to shoot, but I decided it would break the mood.

(Is it just me, or does that sign look like it is telling you to give your hound a good ol' slapping?)

Is that a banana on your feet, or...

Yes, that's right. Bananas. Anyone have a problem with that?

The banana boots were the only purchase verging on the slightly absurd (at least I hope they are the only thing...) during A. and my rape & pillage of the outlet mall in Tulalip on Wednesday. The boots rock. They even have a little buckle at the top. I bought them under the premise of gardening boots, but ooooh they are gonna be so much more.

This whole shopping in the states thing will come bite everyone in the rear eventually, but this is the first time in my life (to my knowledge) that the dollar is in our favour and dammit I'm going to enjoy it, at least once. And those Americans do know how to do the sales. They also know how to post creepy anti-abortion signs & religious instruction radio station call numbers beside the roadways, but that's another story.

All in all, we were bringing a four-figure amount back across the border. And we declared it all (I don't lie well. At least not to people wearing any sort of uniform.) And they waved us through. Huh? Oh well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth. And make sure you smile at the customs guy.

Mind the fall...

Finally, a sunny crisp fall day.

I spent the morning planting bulbs - lots of bulbs. Tulips. Dwarf tulips. Crocuses (croci?). Daffodils.

This is my first bulbing at the Bunkle. Last fall, there was too much going on to worry about things like planting.

As I was planting, I thought about a film I saw at VIFF last weekend - How to Cook Your Life - about a zen master who happens to be a great baker and cook. The film was actually pretty funny, but there was one thing the chef brought up that really stuck with me. Mindfulness. "When you chop the carrot, chop the carrot." The point really is to pay attention to and respect everything you do. As my pal A. said, the bonus of mindfulness when cooking is you don't end up with "Chop the carrot, chop your hand". It is so hard to keep your mind from flying to 15 different things when you do something like chop a carrot. Or plant a bulb. And *blink* the task is done, and you can't actually remember doing it.

I can't believe how fast time flies now. Every year, that little bit faster. Kids don't have that problem. Summers last forever. Why? Because when they are drawing a picture or playing tag or punching their friend in the nose, THAT is what they are doing, and THAT is what they are thinking about.

So, that's what I'm trying. To focus and give my mind a rest. And with the bickering Greek chorus that exists in my brain, boy is it hard.

Frankly my dear...

October's concert/VIFF lineup are well underway, but I've been too lazy (busy?) to post anything so here goes...
Black Francis - Frank Black (touring as Black Francis) played Richards for two nights last week. We went Wednesday. We lined up early, just in case the old people seats were going to fill up fast (the Pixies ex lead singer should in theory pull an old people crowd...). And yes, there were actually two people already in line ahead of us, so we weren't the only ones thinking that way. So, we sat on our cherished balcony stools. And waited for the club to fill. And waited. And waited....
It was a bit like my Rock Plaza Central experience. There were maybe 150 people in the end - which for a club that holds about 500 just isn't that impressive. I actually counted the people on the floor - there were 75. I shouldn't be able to count the people on the floor. It should be so crowded that it is like trying to count grains of salt. Once again Vancouver, where were you? I'm hoping you all showed up for the Thursday show.
As for Frank/Francis - it was a really nice show. Good mix of solo acoustic stuff and full on band, a few Pixies tunes mixed in here and there - really, you couldn't fault him. Except perhaps for miscalculating and booking two nights in a row. And maybe announcing the show too close to the date of the gig. And maybe touring as Black Francis instead of Frank Black. I don't know. Anyway, I was there, and I'm glad.

A couple of weeks from now I will be off to the Fiery Furnaces - really more of a whim than anything, I don't know there stuff all that well based on what I have heard of them & read about them I thought it would be worth checking out... & (yay) Akron/Family, which I am really pumped about just because their live shows are such a crazed delight. The show I really wish I was going to is Final Fantasy/Great Lakes Swimmers - which seems to be sold out now. If anyone has an extra ticket, let me know and I'll be your friend forever. Or at least until the show is over.

On the VIFF front - a couple of things worth mentioning - Scott Walker:30 Century Man, a very nicely put together documentary about the 60s pop icon turned avant garde composer/musical influence on many of today's more interesting artists. The director was at the screening & was a funny, articulate open guy. And I have since downloaded The Drift, Walker's most recent album, and it is wonderfully horrifying. I listen and am stuck in the dark in a bombed out building. Is that a good thing? Not sure, but it's an amazing thing.

Sidney Lumet's excellent Before the Devil Knows You're Dead was also a lot of fun. Familiar heist-gone-wrong territory, and another reason to bow and scrape at the feet of Philip Seymour Hoffman (or shudder at the increasingly creepy rat like face of Ethan Hawk). I Just Didn't Do It takes a good look at the horrifying state of the Japanese justice system through the eyes of a young man wrongly accused of groping a girl on the subway (and for the love of god how could you not grope someone on a Japanese subway train? I don't think you could fit a sheet of paper between bodies...and I thought Toronto was bad). According to the director, who was in attendance, 99.9% of those that go to trial in Japan are found guilty....doesn't Lotto 6/49 have better odds than that? And finally (for this post), 4 Months, 3 Weeks & 2 Days
was gripping, gripping, gripping, well acted, and really nicely filmed in a quiet, focussed way. Another time, you'd get much more detailed reviews but not tonight. Be thankful...

Imagine you are a cat...

...and you feel like throwing up. A fur ball maybe. Or just a plain ol' barf. What would you choose to throw up on? Here are your options: 1)nicely refinished fir flooring; 2) kind of nasty but very wipeable vinyl flooring; 3) very nasty grey stained basement carpet; 4) cheap multicolour striped door mats; or 5) cream coloured virgin wool area rug.

If you chose options 1 - 4, your chances of becoming a good method-actor are slim to nil.

Sigh.

Ughhh...

Cats had their rabies shots yesterday. Cat tummies not too good this morning.

Unfeeling cat-slave me is going to spend the day at VIFF instead of ministering to the needs of my cat overlords.

I am sure I will pay for that somehow.

If I get a new roof, will Sufjan stand on it? AKA Did Someone Say Banjo Episode #4

Just wondering. I am currently killing time waiting for the sales guy from the roofing company (who is now officially late) and found this. And I've gotta say, if the 5-figure cost of replacing the roof included a cute, incredibly talented banjo playing American perched on top as in the video here, I would consider it money well spent.

I should also mention that la Blogotheque (creators/posters of the video) have a really great collection of stuff, "take away concerts" of artists performing all over the place (bathrooms, streets, bars, houses...a roof....). But if you're anything like me, be prepared to lose at least an hour of your life sifting through the videos they post...but then again, they tend to profile bands I am already smitten with.

But enough of that. I'm still waiting. The roofer is now half an hour late. The more I think about it, the more the Bunkle would suit a roof-standing banjo player (maybe he could double as a weather vane? Oh the possibilities....)

Crowd Joy Madness

Was just looking at some of the youtube videos of the Flaming Lips at Malkin Bowl. This 15 second number isn't great quality, but it really best captures what it was all like.

There is another video of Wayne Coyne rolling over the camera holder in his space bubble. I prefer to keep that for private viewing (if I watch it enough times, maybe I will believe it was me holding the camera...)

Enjoy.

Is it real or is it Memorex?

I wasn't going to write anything tonight. But here I am, writing way too much.

It was the final concert of the September concert season last night - Smashing Pumpkins, with The Bravery as an opener. It was good - well, I enjoyed nostalgia moment of seeing the Pumpkins, very much, which is what I went for. I left happy. And tired. And with more questions in my head than answers.

Question #1: Exactly how tall IS Billy Corgan? Either his bandmates are all under 5'5" or Billy is a giant. I was pretty convinced of the latter. I spent a lot of the concert trying to figure out how much his body falls outside of the classical 7-head rule you learn in art school (or alternately, how much larger his head would have to be to make him look less...gigantic). I finally decided he is one-half head out. Height wise. I don't mean his head is one-half head too small...thank god. And I did have to look up his height - and it's only 6'3". Which makes me think his body is longer (or his head is tinier) than I have calculated, or he wouldn't seem so...gigantic. Whether or not these questions were plaguing me because I was sitting next to a truly delightfully Beavis & Butthead pair of young-un's who were smoking a never ending string of weed I am not sure...

Question #2: Uncle Fester or Zippy the Pinhead? Don't get me wrong, I loved the white knickers, striped hose, and short sleeved white shirt over striped long sleeved T. I loved the white boots. But something about the proportions made him seem like the love child of Fester and Zippy. Sorry. And honestly, I think Billy is extremely cool, despite these comments, and despite his tendency to hang out with Courtney Love. Once again, wondering if these thoughts are more a result of inhaling beside Beavis & Butthead than anything.

Question #3: Is it real, or is it fake? As mentioned, the Bravery opened the evening. I had heard one song they played before. As soon as I clapped eyes on the lead singer and his posed, stiff-armed guitar moves, it was over. It was like a big sign flashing "DON'T THANK ME, THANK MY IMAGE CONSULTANT, BABY" was flashing over his head. Every move of his admirably lanky and nattily attired frame screamed of a self conscious attempt to be a rockstar (cue crowd noise). And I am completely perplexed as to what the specific signals are that make that so painfully apparent. I've seen plenty of bands with singers that strike all sorts of weird poses and move around in any number of twitchy ways but for some reason it comes across as being real. It comes from the heart, and when it does it is a beautiful thing and makes me love them even more. Good lord, even the king of camp Freddie Mercury never left you questioning how genuine and true to himself his very stagey moves were, whether or not you liked him or his music. And it amazes me that it is so easy to tell the difference between what is honest and what is not. It doesn't help that the band follows a particular type of formulaic "I-want-to-be-Alt-'cause the shoes are cool" pop (did anyone say The Killers? Anyone?) that I really don't have patience for. But maybe it's just me. Ok, I know it's not just me, because when I leaned over to my brother and said "I want to slap the lead singer" he said "YESSS!" ...

Question #4: What band is this again? Can a band be the same band when half the band members are different? If you hire people that kinda sorta look like the old band members, does it make it more 'real' than if you hired something completely new and different? Tough questions. And a tough situation for any band interested in reforming. Trying to satisfy a nostalgic audience isn't always easy. Hang on - yes, it is. Case in point: Dave Wakeling, touring as the English Beat. Trust me, the band looked nothing like the original band. NOTHING. And in a way, that helped preserve the memory of what the original band was...but I have to admit, when I first saw them I had a hard time wrapping my head around it. So maybe it isn't that easy. I certainly didn't have a hard time believing I was watching The Smashing Pumpkins.

Question #5: Doesn't that make your neck hurt? Ahh, Beavis & Butthead, my stair-sitting friends. God bless your enthusiasm, and the amazing timing/choreography that seemed to go along with your flailing, twitching, headbanging moves. It was actually quite sweet to watch. And it was genuine. And that, really, is all I ask.

Snappity Snap Snap

I've been thinking about digital cameras a lot recently. I guess there isn't enough to spend my money on right now (roof? gutters? Thomas' tooth extractions? Sounds like a pretty light month financially...ha hahaha ... sigh). I am using a little Sony 3.2 megapixel Cybershot that was a gift from work for 5 years at the company - so that means I've had it 5 years. And it has been a nice little camera really. But now I'm using it more I'm noticing the not-so-great resolution, and the shutter speed is horrifyingly slow. Though sometimes the slow shutter leads to pleasant surprises - like Mr. Mouth here - and who can complain about Mr. Mouth? Certainly not Mr. Fuzzyhead, in photo #2. Or Mr. Fish. (excuse my rambling - I actually snorted a whack of mustard powder a minute ago. Not intentional, I was just trying to figure out what it was - it is one of a few unlabeled bags of spice. Now that my nose has exploded and my right eye is watering, I can confidently label it "mustard").

The world of digitals is overwhelming. I fantasize about having a DSLR, but I don't really know that it is what I really need - and it certainly isn't what I can afford. What I want is something that has a great optical zoom and great shutter speed. I like what I've read about this Panasonic
but if anyone has any suggestions or opinions on digitals, I'd love to hear them!

Until then, I'll happily keep taking snaps of Mr. Fuzzyhead.

She uses tangerines....

Flaming Lips last night at Malkin Bowl. Thankfully the rain stopped by the time opener Black Moth Super Rainbow played (and cudos to them - particularly for the disturbing use of Richard Simmons "Sweating to the Oldies" videos), and in the end, I am glad that it was moved from the Orpheum. We staked out our usual spot near the side of the stage, squished into a crazy happy squirmy crowd. And what a lot to be happy about.

Before I go further, let me admit that I have a long standing, monumental crush on Wayne Coyne. If I had to run off with a rock star, he'd be at the top of the list. I promise that hasn't skewed my review. Really...

So - the night started out with Wayne climbing inside his inflatable space bubble and rolling across the audience, assisted during the inflation by 8 people in santa suits, 8 girls in alien outfits/masks, and a slew of roadies in padded super hero outfits. The only disappointment of the night is that he didn't roll over me - for a split second, it looked like that just might happen, and I could die a happy woman. Ahhh, so close....

It wasn't a show, it was an all consuming event. Streamers and confetti, giant balloons, smoke megaphones, mechanical doves, a "head camera" attached to Wayne's mic that projected his face onto the big screen behind - it was never ending creativity. And never ending fun. I loved it. And so did the rest of the audience. You couldn't not get wrapped up in it.

So, if you didn't go, I feel for you. It isn't often that a spectacle like this comes to our fair city. Judging by how packed the venue was, there were lots that knew this was something not to be missed.

And when I got home, I discovered my rain coat hood also works well to catch yellow confetti...maybe I'll toss it in the air later and relive the evening for the cats. The only question is where to find an inflatable space bubble...



Concert photos by g.mcmullin

Anthem for the Already Defeated?

So went to the much anticipated (by me at least...) Rock Plaza Central show at Pat's Pub. They were supposed to be playing with O'Death, but apparently they got caught at the border. Drag, from the few tracks I've heard I was really interested in seeing them play. So...what was I in for?

the venue: Hadn't been to Pat's before; it is steps away from The Chapel at the bottom of the Patricia Hotel. Actually kind of like the layout - good seating, biggish space. One lesson though - if you are there to watch the band, don't sit at the tables against the pony wall that leads on to the rest of the pub - that is, unless you want to get involved in conversation with the loud, drunk regulars on the other side of the wall. Otherwise, the staff were really great and the food was about as good as you could expect a pub burger/pulled pork extravaganza to be.

the sound: Hmmm. PA upgrade maybe a good idea, but overall it wasn't bad. The reason I comment is more on the twilight-zone weirdness of the sound techs - the scrawny long haired guy (actually the same guy I mentioned being berated at this gig) and a younger woman with dark, thick hair pulled back into a ponytail. If you happen to go to clubs in Toronto & pay attention to the sound techs, chances are you will see a (drum roll please...) scrawny long haired guy and a younger woman with dark, thick hair pulled back into a ponytail (who is my good pal A. ). Cue Twilight Zone music.

the audience: Was there an audience? Oops, blink and you'll miss them. I'm only slightly joking - attendance was really really poor. A big chunk of the small audience left after the first set (I suspect they may have been there to see O'Death), but those that stuck poured out as much love as their 20-odd hearts could. Not really sure why the low numbers - the band has great press, lots of attention internationally, television airplay - poor promotion maybe? I shake my head Vancouver, I really do. For shame.

the band: were great. The second set in particular really came together well, and god love the enthusiasm with which they played for such a tiny group of people. They deserve all the attention they are getting - the mandolin/brass/guitar combo they present is great (the band was slightly scaled down for the tour), and I love love love the songwriting. Clever, touching stuff. What more could you want. Vancouver, are you listening??

So - big hugs to you Rock Plaza Central. Sorry Vancouver wasn't giving you the attention you deserve, but come back again ... we'll do better next time, I promise.

Another reason to turn on the lights....

Because this would be pretty scary to run into in the dark. Who's kidding who - it's actually a little scary even after the lights are on.

More on Rock Plaza Central's show later....

We've got a lot to be glad for

Plans are to see Rock Plaza Central Friday night at Pat's Pub. Never been there (has anyone? horrorshow? delight? inquiring minds want to know...) but I have high hopes for the show. Both RPC albums are in high rotation at the Bunkle - the perfection of imperfection draws me in every single time, as do the crazy array of string instruments, and reports from pals in TO are that they are a great live act.

I posted this video despite it's not super brilliant quality both because I love the song and because it appears to have been filmed in Toronto - and my thoughts have been on TO more than usually recently because the Toronto International Film Fest is on - and I'm missing it. Again. Which is a huge drag. Such a drag that I almost can't stand hearing/reading/seeing anything about it. BUT - I will console myself with Rock Plaza Central, and perusing through the VIFF catalogue this weekend to try and choose some films out here, over a coffee. And I will buy tickets calmly, from the comfort of my own home. I will not scramble to choose my first choices, and my second, in time for a raffle. I will not line up at an ungodly hour on the day tickets are released to see which choices I have lucked out on. Nope, not me. I will do it all calmly, on line, and god knows I will get everything I want to because that's just the way things work out here.

Damn.

A nice place to visit, but i wouldn't want to live there

Saw the Brian Jonestown Massacre at the Commodore last night. This will be the second time - last year the show was at Richards. Last year, I was nervous about how it would go - but it was as good as I think BJM show could ever be. It was LOOOONG - not only because of Anton Newcombe's smoke breaks, requests for a pizza, and 15 minute fixation on the final note of the final song.

But that was last year.

The ten second summary of last night is this: band "intro" music running / lights down for about 15 minutes until the band actually walked on stage at midnight; short one hour show, punctuated by Anton's abusive comments at band and audience (more on that later); show abruptly ends when an audience idiot lobs a beer bottle at Anton (here's a link to that unfortunate incident - it is too depressing for me to post here, but take a look if you want), who spits out a confrontational response and concludes that this is the last time he will play Canada. Audience bewildered, hanging on just incase the show wasn't really over. It was.

This is going to be a long one, so I'll break it down:

Audience: By now, I'm sure that everyone that attends a BJM show has seen DIG!, the documentary that came out three or so years ago. I've included a clip from the doc here, because this, fortunately or unfortunately, is the "source material" for audiences. The short version is that you can get Anton to go off like a bomb without too much effort. Unfortunately, for a particular type of audience member, this becomes the purpose of going to the show. It's like watching bear bating, and it makes me ... sad ... actually. And frustrated. I'm there to see the band play, and when they DO play, they're great. As for last night, we were up on the balcony and there was a guy at the table beside us that would yell - "SUCK MY [MALE CHICKEN], YOU [FORNICATING BUNDLE OF STICKS]" - ok, not quite that wording - at any opportunity. And of course he would wave his arms around in joy when the band actually played. One of the guys I was with overheard the same guy in the bathroom - he was punching the wall and frothing over how he wanted to take Anton on. Why, why, why do people like this leave there homes and insist on interacting with the rest of society? Why?

Anton: Where to start. The man is not looking like the best version of himself at this moment in time. Shirtless on stage, he is skinny and kind of ... grey looking. I'm not sure if he is clean right now or not, but if I were the betting kind, I'd say not. And he can be one incredibly cutting, cruel SOB, snapping at an incredibly long suffering band and the audience that paid to get in with fair regularity. But - I have sympathy for the guy. I do believe he is incredibly musically talented, and I also believe that he cannot be anything BUT what he is - an exceedingly difficult, self-destructive musical obsessive (obsessiveness demonstrated by the fact he was behind the sound board for most of the opening act, and between acts, doing who the hell knows what but I'm sure it wasn't fun for the sound guy). I don't think his reactivity is something he can control - and I also think his particular brain can't really understand the consequences of his actions - or at least see clearly enough to learn to manipulate the world around him to his advantage. That brain cannot be a comfortable place to live. Or maybe I'm totally off base, I just can't logic out any other explanation.

The band: Hats of to the long suffering band and crew. Being at the receiving end of that sharp tongue cannot be easy. Not sure why you stay, but I'm glad you do.

So, there it is. And here I am, still slightly bewildered.

Watch where you sit...

One reason it is always important to turn on the bathroom light.

Raining...dogs at least

Crowded House on the weekend. In the rain, thanks to the persistence of the city strike. As it was slated to rain on concert night, I decided to fully give myself over to permanent residency in Vancouver and buy a really waterproof coat. After dragging my pals around the city trying to find something that didn't make me look like a peanut m&m, I decided on this, which makes me feel vaguely like a member of the SS, which I'm not sure is a good thing but I'm going with it. After a night in dry comfort despite the persistent drizzle, I have learned to love it.

As for the concert - it was really more of a nostalgia trip for me than anything, but the band proved they've still got it going on. God knows that there are few that can put together a pop song with the finesse that Neil Finn can. I seem to have grown up watching him play - in Split Enz in the early 80's in the decidedly non-acoustically brilliant ex-skating rink, the Kerrisdale Arena (where I also saw the Jam, the Clash, the Psychedelic Furs, Love & Rockets and god knows what else - this concert going habit has been long lived...), to an unbelievably great Neil Finn solo tour that hit the Phoenix in Toronto about 6 years ago, and a decidedly mediocre Finn Brothers tour a year or two after that. Anyway, it was good to go back in time and see a band that I didn't have a chance to see in their heyday, and they didn't disappoint. The one thing they knocked off the bill was Liam Finn, because of the change in venue. Now I've listened to some of his stuff online I'm disappointed.

As for the audience - the rain kept the giddiness and arm sways to a minimum thankfully (I'm such a curmudgeon), but I did feel like knocking the heads of the couple standing in front of me together when the woman started singing directly to her boyfriend. For the love of all that is sacred, go to a karaoke bar and put the rest of us out of our misery. PLEASE.

Anyway, I've included a clip of Neil Finn solo - really hoping he doesn't have a 'man-servant', but I guess if I had that much money I would - heck, I'd have MANY - so who am I to judge?

Smells Like Paul Anka...

OK, I actually found myself looking this up today - I saw it months ago, and actually WANTED to listen to it again. How's that for a confession.

Part of me hates to admit it, but Canada's first teen idol owns it in his own, weird, fake-baked way.

If I don't go to hell for the Tiny Tim photo, surely I'll go for giving this more air time.

Andrew Bird

So, the September concert chaos has started, with Andrew Bird at Richards. Good show. And with VERY devoted fans. As per usual, we showed up half an hour before the doors opened in order to secure our good-view-seating-for-old-people on the balcony. Usually, we end up being first in line. Maybe 3rd or 4th at most. Not so much this time - let's try 25th maybe? Anyway, luckily we managed to snag the last three good-view-seating-for-old-people stools. Phew.

Interesting stuff - I didn't realize that he played so much with looping ( Martin Dosh, Bird's drummer/keyboard guy is a looping king). Twitchy, stripey socked stage presence. Strong, lovely vocals and fantastic violin. All good, all good. (I'm really too tired to write something more detailed. Sorry - or maybe that's a blessing?)

Vocally I can't help but compare his tone and soaring vocals to Jeff Buckley. Bird obviously is playing around with things to a much greater extent, but there is something about his vocals that kept bringing Buckley to mind.

Visually - ok, I may go to hell for this, but I can't help it.