Music Waste 2012 Kick-Off

10 bands, 10 bucks. Music Waste, Vancouver's dirt-cheapest music festival celebrating the best in local/local-ish underground music, kicks off tonight at the Waldorf. No show over $5 (except tonight's) or $15 for a three-day pass. Click here for tonight's line-up and here for the complete schedule.

I Think This About A LOT of Songs, But

I like to think that if "When Morning Comes To Town" by the Field Mice doesn't move you even a *little* bit, you have no heart:

The National Live at the Orpheum Theatre

November 28, 2011
The Orpheum Theatre
Vancouver, British Columbia

The National have been one of my absolute favourite bands for at least the past four years - my second favourite band lyrically, behind the Mountain Goats. After having swooned over live National video after live National video, needless to say, I had pretty damned high expectations of them. Although my expectations weren't impossibly high, the National, as good as they were that late-November night at their first of two sold-out shows in a row at the immaculate Orpheum Theatre, still unfortunately fell short of them.

I always thought the National were one of the tightest bands today. However, there were a few moments when the band seemed completely out of sync: a missed drum-kick on "Secret Meeting," a mistimed lyric here or a completely missed lyric there.

Far more glaring - distracting and even unbearable - was some of Matt Berninger's vocal performance. Matt possesses one of my favourite voices ever: a velvet-smooth baritone so soothing and soft yet aggressive when it needs to be. However, he should NOT yell. EVER. I love well-executed yelling, but Matt's yelling was strictly piercing and very nearly ruined many of my favourite National songs including "Abel," "Mr. November" and "Secret Meeting." Matt's "intense" vocal performance also seemed to have gassed him quite a bit, as he kept running out of breath and thereby missing lyrics.

I admit I actually nodded off during some of the National's more sombre songs. I mainly attribute that to having been seated in the middle of the upper balcony. Not being immediately immersed in the band's and floor-level crowd's energy definitely doesn't help bring up my energy. When I'm so far removed from the action, I don't feel very motivated to do anything but pretty much stand still and keep my mouth shut: no dancing, no singing, not even mouthing along with lyrics. I'm sure I would have felt more alive if I was on the floor near the stage when Matt went into the crowd, but I could hardly even enjoy the moment vicariously, as I could only see Matt suddenly disappear and the distant crowd erupt. I'm sure the audience around me felt the same way which was why they were so still and silent as well.

Even some of the good aspects of the show were not perfect. Almost every song (if not every song) got the brass treatment. Being a huge brass fan, I was overjoyed, except the horns periodically drowned out the rest of the band.

Despite all of my complaints, the National did put on quite a good show. They played a generous four-song encore which included "Mr. November," "Terrible Love," "Lucky You" and an entirely acoustic version of "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks" which closed the show. In fact, the only songs I wanted to hear that the National didn't play were "Karen," "Lit Up," "Start A War," "Wasp Nest" and "Apartment Story."

Furthermore, my less-than-favourable seat in the upper balcony wasn't all bad. It did provide a great cinematic, panoramic view of the show which allowed me to simultaneously watch the slowly swirling patterned lights cascade across the large chandelier that hung from the painted domed ceiling and look down, down, down upon the band as it and the rows of audience members' heads in front of me were silhouetted by those same blue and white lights.

Finally, I have to hand it to the National for their visuals. A gigantic screen onstage provided a live feed of the band members backstage minutes before the show, up to and including the moment they came out. The screen also displayed shots of the audience from various angles throughout the night including the band's perspective. It sure beat every other "artistic" visual I've seen on screens or projected otherwise at shows (ahem, Feist).

So, a good show overall, despite technical problems and my physical and emotional distances from, well, the show. I'm going to give the National the benefit of a doubt and say perhaps they were just warming up/saving their A-game for their next night's performance. After all, the second show of back-to-back performances is usually the one to catch.

Click here for more photos of the National's first night at the Orpheum Theatre.

Do You Remember the Moment You Got into Sonic Youth?

I was in tenth grade and saw them play "Unmade Bed" on Late Night with Conan O'Brien. The only exposure I'd had to Sonic Youth prior this performance was their video for "Teen Age Riot" on MuchMusic's late-night alternative show The Wedge. I dug "Teen Age Riot," but it was Sonic Youth's ability to so seamlessly infuse a song as dreamy and melodic as "Unmade Bed" with such destructive blasts of sustained noise and then bring everything back down to that same dreamy state in which they started that drew me into the band:

"Is It So Wrong, Wanting To Be Home with Your Record Collection?

It's not like collecting records is like collecting stamps, or beermats, or antique thimbles. There's a whole world in here, a nicer, dirtier, more violent, more peaceful, more colorful, sleazier, more dangerous, more loving world than the world I live in; there is history, and geography, and poetry, and countless other things I should have studied at school, including music."

 - Nick Hornby, High Fidelity (Victoria Gollancz Ltd., 1995)

The Only Place For Me

May 23, 2012
The Biltmore Cabaret
Vancouver, British Columbia

After having missed Vancouver punk trio Nü Sensae three times, I finally got to see them when they opened for Best Coast at the Biltmore Cabaret. Although Nü Sensae's set only lasted twenty minutes, drummer Daniel Pitout looked like he was convulsing after the first song. The intensity with which he and the rest of the band played is why I for once, reluctantly, kept my earplugs in for more than a few seconds; in fact, I kept them in for the entire set. It was definitely a smart move, because when I took them out for a second to hear how loud Nü Sensae were, I felt like I'd been cast into the first level of Hell (the deeper levels being reserved for heavy- and doom-metal - truly Satanic shit).

Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, to say the plugs took away from Nü Sensae would be an understatement. I tried only wearing the plugs halfway in, and even then, I could hardly hear Andrea Lukic's blood-curdling, Kim Gordon-like screams. I realize it seems stupid to complain about earplugs taking away from shows, but I really wonder what the point of going to shows is if one can hardly hear anything. Maybe I just need to find less-isolating earplugs - or stop caring even in the slightest about my body's well-being.

After the snarling punk of Nü Sensae, another trio, Portland, OR's Unknown Mortal Orchestra, took the stage and delivered hands down the worst performance I'd ever seen. They weren't bad at their instruments, but they weren't interesting in the slightest either; I could not have fathomed more generic indie music. Until UMO, Oh Land and Dan Sartain were the worst bands I'd ever seen, but to Oh Land's and Dan's credits, they were just boring; UMO were so annoyingly bad, I couldn't even bring myself to pretend I was into them. I frequently scanned the floor behind and beside me, I was so bored, and was shocked to find people actually enjoying UMO. That, or there were far better actors than me at the Biltmore that night. I thought my eyes were going to become stuck behind my head, I rolled my eyes so much during UMO.

As excruciating as UMO were, Best Coast were completely worth the seemingly endless torture. Although now a fleshier four-piece featuring new guitarist/bassist Rafe Mandel and Brett Mielke replacing Ali Koehler on drums, I couldn't tell much of a difference from the last two times I saw Best Coast. Despite a few slightly missed cues between frontperson Bethany Cosentino and Bobb Bruno (also on guitar and bass) and minor malfunctions with Bobb's amp during the encore, Best Coast still put on an all-around solid performance.

In typical Biltmore charm, I stood so close to Bethany, at near-eye-level, that I could have hugged her just by sticking out my arms. But that would have been getting a little too personal, so I settled for snatching her second bottle of water; I'm now two-for-three in snatching Bethany's water at Best Coast shows (someone snatched her first bottle before the encore, prompting her to ask, "Who took my water?" when the band returned to the stage. So, I decided to wait until the band was done for sure to make my move).

Bethany's bottle of water in one hand and Best Coast's set list in the other, and that was another show marked off of my calender - another ripped ticket stub in my desk drawer. And speaking of set lists, that Nü Sensae had theirs scrawled on a piece of bent cardboard was funny in its DIYness. I would have snatched it, but I didn't know where I'd keep it. It would have kind of detracted from my bedroom set list wall, even if I taped the cardboard flat. Also, I didn't want to keep that piece of cardboard on me the entire show.

Click here for more photos of Best Coast, and click below to watch a video that must have been taken by the person who stood right beside me, because the video shows pretty much the exact view I had:

Why Do I Always Like Marnie Stern Interviews So Much?

“The way the music business is now…well, there are just so many bands,” she exasperates. “No one is critical. It’s all about having as much music as possible. Nobody listens to anything for more than 30 seconds.” For someone that can spend up to “five fucking hours” perfecting one simple guitar riff, this change in the musical landscape is frustrating. Bands Marnie once looked up to and adored like Hella (whose drummer now plays with her), Ponytail and Battles aren’t on the forefront of the scene. A new crew has taken over. “I don’t hear any [new music] that gets me excited,” she complains. “That is the worst part. I like that healthy sense of competition. It’s what I thrive from and it’s gone.” 

I don't particularly like her music, apart from a few songs. I wouldn't see her live. Maybe I just like her opinions, although I sometimes disagree with her. Maybe I just appreciate her outspokenness. But then, why do I hate the likes of Morrissey and Axl Rose for their outspokenness? And I sure as hell disagree with pretty much everything I can think of either of them ever having said.

Click here to read the rest of Marnie Stern's interview with hearty magazine.