EIFF

9.30.2009 by Curtis Wright

PASSENGER SIDE

Sat, Oct 3 (2pm)

If your brother is a drug addict, you obviously want to help. You probably don’t want to help him score anymore drugs, though. When Michael gets a call from his estranged and troubled brother Tobey, asking for a brotherly favour in the form of taxi-service, he’s naturally skeptical. But this sibling relationship is more mutually dependent than it looks: Michael, an aspiring novelist, writes books with his addled brother as the main character while trying to pretend Tobey isn’t the model. His brother then surprises him by admitting that he’s read Tobey’s first novel (and noticed the striking resemblance), and then by revealing he’s not planning to score drugs at all.
Passenger Side is an engaging look at sibling rivalry and the disappointment that comes with failing to accomplish your life’s goals. It’s a meandering, occasionally long-winded film, but Adam Scott and Joel Bissonnette are likable enough to keep it afloat. In the end, after countless pit-stops and indirect conversations, Michael and Tobey grow as brothers, but realize entirely different things as individuals.



***1/2


SONGS FROM THE SOUTHERN SEAS

Tue, Sept 29 (5:15pm)
I know, I know: we’re supposed to give foreign films more credit for being deeper, more challenging, and while they may be more difficult to “get,” when you do get it, it’s well worth the wait and effort. Songs From the Southern Seas could be one of those movies. Or it could be an absolutely convoluted, irritatingly unclear attempt at conveying something profound. What, exactly? Beats me.
Set in Kazakhstan, Songs’ underdeveloped plot revolves around a disillusioned and distraught couple who have a new child. Unfortunately, the child is of a darker shade than the father would hope for. This sparks a rivalry between the Kazahk “father” and the Russian man he suspects is the father. The child becomes the cause not just of eternal unhappiness on the part of his “father” but continued bitterness towards the world on the part of his mother. But as the story unfolds — or at least I think it unfolds this way — the characters realize that love is what should fuel their lives, not misdirected anger. Songs’ plot thickens when love enters; sadly, I found the story too thin right from the
get-go.


**

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Finally, Saskatchewan.

9.24.2009 by Curtis Wright


Disc Of The Week

Corb Lund

Losin’ Lately Gambler

(New West)

****
Corb Lund couldn’t have written a more perfect album for his first big American release. He calls upon his the solid songwriting of his early material, but Losin’ Lately Gambler has clearly had a lot more studio time put into the finished product. Longtime fans of Lund and his Hurtin’ Albertans won’t be disappointed, but a few surprises are in store for them too. While the album starts in true, raucous Lund style with a couple of familiar-sounding tracks, along come a couple of darker gems. True, his previous album Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier! explored darker territory, but new songs like “A Game in Town Like This” make you feel Lund has really stepped up his game — and written a song that will kick him to new heights. “Alberta Says Hello,” the standout track, is Lund’s most sincere and touching love ballad, a beautifully crafted song about heartache and loss, that feels honest and never trite. Throughout the album, from “Alberta Says Hello” to “This is My Prairie,” Lund pays tribute to his home province, and hopefully new fans will be turned on by the beautiful picture he paints of it.

CURTIS WRIGHT

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Classic Sitting in a Cafe, Having a Cuppa Joe Pose

by Curtis Wright


Long-Distance Lund




Corb Lund’s new CD has him on the verge of American stardom, but this gambler still misses Edmonton

You don’t know where you’re going, they say, until you know where you’ve been. But what if the place you want to go is the place you call home?

Even as Corb Lund celebrates the release of his band’s sixth album, Losin’ Lately Gambler, he seems a tad homesick — a little removed from the place and music scene he knows so well. A true hometown hero, Lund never forgets where he hangs his hat, but Gambler seems destined to get him much more American exposure (and keep him further from Edmonton) than he ever imagined.

Lund reflects on his days in the decade-defining Edmonton punk band The Smalls and how he was reminded of those days over the sunny months in Edmonton. Sure, his time as a Small may not have garnered him the success he’s currently enjoying, but he seems to long a little for those simpler times. So, other than prepping for the release of his biggest album ever and an impending marathon tour, how did Corb Lund spend his summer vacation (at home)?

“Summer was so cool,” Lund tells me from the Vancouver International Airport, having just flown in from Nashville, “because it’s been so long since I’ve got to be there. You know, I got to see bands, hang around, and see some of the venues. It’s funny, because for years I was super-involved in the scene with The Smalls or my band — I knew all the bands and all of the venues, but we started touring eight months a year and I got out of touch with some of the bands. So it was cool to just hang around.”

Lund laughs about how he’s lost touch with Edmonton a bit — how it took some time this past summer to readjust to the city he’s lived in since 1989. “I feel nostalgic to go around [Edmonton] because I tour so much and I’m never home,” he says. “It feels like I’ve kind of lost my social setting — I don’t really have a setting that I’m part of, ’cause I’m always on the road.”

But even when Lund is on the road, he still puts his hometown first — and that includes his beloved Oilers. He laughs when I ask him about his hopes for the upcoming Oilers season; like a true fan, he musters a lot of blind faith but takes the strong possibility of disappointment all in stride. His dedication to the team takes on a new dimension this year too: “I rewrote the lyrics to ‘Roughest Neck Around’ and they might be using it a theme song for the Oilers,” he says. “It’s about the Oilers’ history — it turned out pretty cool.”

And unlike other a lot of Oilers fans, Lund doesn’t subscribe to anti-Flames sentiment quite as fervently either. “Well,” he says, “I grew up in Taber, so I’m close to Calgary too. I know a lot of people disagree with me about this concept ... but I actually cheer for the Flames, as long as they aren’t playing against Edmonton. I prefer the Oilers but if it’s Calgary versus Florida or something, I’m gonna cheer for Alberta.”

So, now that we’ve established that Lund is not, in fact, a true Oilers fan (because you can’t cheer for the Flames if you are), what aspirations does he have for his upcoming season? “I hope we can beat the Americans,” Lund quips. “No, that’s the biggest test. This is our first major American release, so it should be pretty interesting to see how that works. We’ve worked up a whole career in Western Canada — I mean, this is our sixth record — but down there, it’s kind of like our debut. It’ll be interesting to see if it builds up our following.”

The 2009/2010 Corb Lund schedule includes a quick Edmonton stop on the second leg of his “Losin’ Lately Gambler” tour. I guess until then, we’ll have to settle for hearing Lund’s voice at the hockey arena and watching his rising success keep him further from home. But Lund doesn’t want us to think he’s forgotten about where it all started. “Tell ’em I miss Edmonton,” he says. “Tell ’em I miss living there. Tell ’em I miss being in touch with the music scene there.”

Corb Lund’s Losin’ Lately Gambler (New West) is in stores now.

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Imperfecto

9.22.2009 by Curtis Wright



House
Paul Oakenfold
Perfecto Vegas
(Thrive)
**1/2

Let me admit something right off the bat: I know nothing about house music. Nothing. So I don’t know whether I sound like a philistine when I say every track on Paul Oakenfold’s Perfecto Vegas sounds so insanely similar that I cannot differentiate between any of them. Very energetic and often quite trippy, the album certainly evokes a time and a place. Call me ignorant (no, seriously — do it) but aside from a few interspersed trippy moments and pulsating beats, Perfecto Vegas is nothing but buildups and slowdowns. And yet house devotees adore Oakenfold. Why can’t I do the same? Perhaps it’s like my feelings about the Grateful Dead: I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out on something. Am I not on the right drugs? Or am I not sitting in the right posh lounge, swallowing enough high-priced drinks? And if I’m not, could someone please take me there? And could you buy my drinks as well? These CD reviews don’t pay much.

CURTIS WRIGHT

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Studying, Reading, Chillin', Maxin, Relaxin?

9.16.2009 by Curtis Wright


If so, you're probably going to need to check out this:

http://typerecords.com/typecasts

It's absolutely stunning, minimalist stuff - great for headphones ;). Kind of sounds like the apocalypse; sort of seems like you should be narrating over a war-movie...regardless, it's amazing - it's a little melancholy.

Also, friends, you can click on any of the releases and listen to the full album - stream-stylee. I think you might just like this.

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Country Loving Fans

by Curtis Wright


The Clemson Tide


The frontman of White Cowbell Oklahoma preaches fire, brimstone, and rock ’n’ roll


WHITE COWBELL OKLAHOMAw/ Smashula and Kabuki Guns Burlesque. The Pawn Shop (10551-82 Ave). Thu, Sept 10 (8pm). Tickets: $10, available at The Pawn Shop and Blackbyrd.

It’s difficult to pin down Clem C. Clemson from White Cowbell Oklahoma. The extraordinarily eccentric frontman for the prog-meets-country-meets-southern-rock-meets-just-plain-weird-rock extravaganza is a riddle wrapped in an enigma. Those two layers are wrapped in something else altogether — but what that is, I couldn’t truly say. Pure peculiarity? Colossal ego? Outspoken oddity?


Clem calls me from a roadside payphone in northern Ontario en route to sunny British Columbia, all destinations on their 10th anniversary tour. Having done the touring thing for a while, they seem to know the rules of the road. “We just made it through the bottleneck of Dryden, Ontario where the shakedowns always occur, but they seem to be eating lunch today, so we just missed them,” Clemson exclaims. “So we made it through Dryden! Now if we can only make it through Saskatchewan where the RCMP shakedown happens!”


Having admitted to me that many members of WCO have been arrested for one thing or another over the years, Clemson feels it best to avoid the “shakedowns” (speed traps to you and me) and rookie RCMP officers from Saskatchewan. After all, all they really want to do is rock every city along the way. This Clemson character is none too modest about his current six-person line-up (his “sextet,” as he habitually calls them just so he work his favourite word into the conversation more often) and their ability to leave their mark on and off the stage.


“We’ve reached year number 10 as a band — and that’s a milestone,” he says. “So we’re going to be shooting testosterone death rays out of our eyes and groins and that the powers are going to be magnified just that much more because our power grows with every year.” Clemson’s tone of voice is very matter-of-fact, as if testosterone death rays were all the rage these days.


And don’t worry — even if you’re not a fan of these mysterious six, Clemson has no doubt you’ll be converted soon enough (and that you really don’t have a choice in the matter). “It doesn’t matter much to us where we play or who you are,” he says. “You will know us because you’ll see the spotlight in the sky of the Cowbell, kind of like the bat symbol. You’ll see the populace of Edmonton walking like zombies towards the light. People don’t even know that they’re soldiers in the White Cowbell army, but they are and we get to take our pick — which will be all of you.”

Clemson and his testosterone-slingin’ cowboys don’t intend to bypass Edmonton with their onslaught of rock magic, either, while celebrating their fourth release, Bombardero. “We’re here to add musical dazzlement to our enormous stagecraft, so that we leave a huge crater where Edmonton once stood in all its glory and then we’re gonna take all the oil and split,” Clemson laughs, perhaps a little maniacally. “We’ll turn around and sell it — black gold on the black market, that’s what we do.”


After a certain point in our conversation, his spiel starts to sound less like a put-on and more like a profession of honest, quasi-religious faith. “We do work our rock and roll magic,” he says. “It’s kind of like hypnosis. Even the biggest skeptic will come and we’ll shoot these huge death rays of testosterone and they will fall to their knees in worship ’cause that’s really what we’re after: money and worship. People will be amazed and astounded on their knees, saved and emancipated from their shackles. Unfortunately, there will be a crater of fire around them as well.”

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Bedouin on a Budget

by Curtis Wright


It’s The Summer Of Soundclash

Bedouin Soundclash’s frontman is still giddy from his band’s opening slot on No Doubt’s recent tour


BEDOUIN SOUNDCLASHw/ Ben Stevenson and DJ Degree. Starlite Room (10030-102 St). Thu, Aug 13 (8pm). Tickets: $30, available through Ticketmaster, Blackbyrd, Brixx Bar & Grill


You’ll often read about veteran bands who are less than excited about what their first album sounded like. Perhaps it’s a form of modesty, or maybe they just like to have a laugh about how far they have come as a band. Bedouin Soundclash is no different: their 2001 disc Root Fire was recorded for $300, and frontman Jay Malinowski seems to cringe a little when I even mention it.


“I don’t actually like to listen to that first record,” he says. “If someone ever does play it for me, I think, ‘Wow, we definitely have come from somewhere.’ I mean, that record was done on nothing.” He laughs. “But I’m definitely not embarrassed of it — if anything, I can hear where we were going. That period was very fruitful and exciting for us.”


Where they were going turned out to be an opening slot for megastars No Doubt during this summer’s concert tour. “I remember when I first met Gwen, I was like, ‘That’s Gwen Stefani! I used to watch her videos when I was a kid!’”


But after that starstruck feeling wore off, Malinowski embraced the experience. “Those guys and girls are just so down to earth, it’s really an inspiration to us as a band — they really just took us under their wing. It was a really great experience, they are great people. They really helped us on that tour — we’re really inspired by that.”


Still, he couldn’t help but be a bit blown away by the popularity a band like No Doubt still commands after all these years. “In Chicago,” he recalls, “they did, like, 30,000 people — it was insane, an insane amount of people.”


Malinowski, still giddy from the huge summer tour, clearly loves every moment he’s having. His band won a Juno for Best New Band in 2006, and they’re striving to reach greater heights.
“We’re always pushing it for where we want to be,” Malinowski says. “I’m so proud of what we’ve achieved. But yeah, it’s been a really great summer.”

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Punk Grows Up

by Curtis Wright


Still Mommy’s Little Monsters


More than a quarter-century into their career, Social Distortion are still rattling skeletons


Social Distortion


I can only imagine that when the punk rock pioneers started punk rocking many moons ago, they weren’t thinking punk would ever evolve to this point (if they even thought far ahead at all). But when one of these punk rock pioneers answered the phone in Denmark the day before sharing a festival stage with Kanye West and the Pet Shop Boys, the “Well... how did we get here?” vibe is palpable.


“There was a time that this [amount of success] was completely unforeseeable,” says Social Distortion’s lead guitarist, Jonny Wickersham,. “I think that Black Flag was one of the first bands from our area to come tour in Europe, which was pretty gnarly, I’d imagine.”


Not that Social Distortion would rather run the festival circuit. “We’re playing these big huge festivals on these big stages — yeah, there is a huge crowd there, and it’s great, but they’re also, like, 20 or 30 feet away from the stage. It’s a really impersonal feeling most of the time. We’d much rather be in a 1,500-seater.”


Perhaps that literal distance from his fans is the best metaphor for how punk has changed. Like many of his contemporaries, Wickersham can’t help but feel a little estranged from the current scene. “[Punk rock] is completely different,” he notes without any hesitation. “It’s gone through so many cycles of change and levels of acceptance by the mainstream. It’s definitely a genre of music that’s important. That being said, it’s not the same thing anymore. In the late ’70s and early ’80s it was something really new and it’s not that anymore.”


Even something as simple as the meaning of the term “punk rocker” has gotten hazy — which makes it laughable to hear people getting so adamant about its definition. Wickersham seems just as confused as anybody taking the introductory class on “What Is Punk?” — and he’s one of the professors.


“I’m always curious when talking about punk rock,” he says. “What part of punk rock is important? Is it the sound? Is it because it’s guitar-driven music? Or is it the message that a particular band has? What is it? You don’t have to necessarily be playing a certain form of music to get the same message across, to get people to think and open their eyes. Punk is definitely a form of music, but there are people that play that music who don’t subscribe to the ideology at all.”


Perhaps Social Distortion’s eager investigation of other musical territories is the best example of how what you say, not how you say it is what matters in punk. Case in point: asked about rumours that the onetime angst-ridden youths are slowing down a bit and prepping an acoustic album, Wickersham admits that they’re definitely toying with idea. (Which isn’t surprising, considering Social Distortion’s lead singer Mike Ness’s two acclaimed forays into alt-country, Cheating at Solitaire and Under the Influences, both from 1999.)


Wickersham doesn’t see the idea of an acoustic album as genre-bending venture or an abandonment of the “scene.” “We’re not turning around every few years and completely changing the band,” he says. “It’s just an evolution — a natural growth. There are elements of the early Social D that are still there and there are elements of what this band was doing in the ’90s and then there’s elements of what we’re doing right now. The changing of opinions and tastes; you can’t just stay the same. It’s sad to hold on so tightly to a certain point of your life and try to keep doing that; you gotta grow.”

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Honesty's the Best

by Curtis Wright



The Honesty’s Too Much


Every interview with Eagles of Death Metal’s Jesse Hughes is his “most candid interview ever!"

Thanks to Almost Famous, we all now know that rock stars probably won’t be completely honest with music journalists — that they all have secrets to hide and that “the enemy” is the last person with whom they’ll share the raw goods.


Luckily for us, Jesse Hughes isn’t a typical rock star, and he has no problem with blatant honesty. The Eagles of Death Metal singer is about as candid about himself as it’s possible to be; he wears his heart on his sleeve, as it were. And here comes the segue: Heart On, EoDM’s latest, is so titled because of Hughes’ absolute dedication to... yep, saying what’s on his mind. Sometimes recklessly so.


“Eagles of Death Metal are a lot of things to us,” he begins. “One of the things it has always been is a philosophical statement on taking it fucking easy. You know what I mean? Relaxing. I’m not here to talk about global warming. I don’t fucking give a shit about saving whales. I just wanna shake my dick and have a good time.”


Wow, no coaxing whatsoever and already he’s talking about shaking his dick around. Let’s press further: if the Eagles of Death Metal aren’t out there holding hands across America or waving signs at a peace protest — this is a band, after all, that once recorded a song called “Whorehoppin’ (Shit, Goddamn)” — how do they fit into the whole rock ’n’ roll kingdom?


Hughes thinks that since he entered the business late, his perspective is a bit more rounded than other musicians. He has no patience for pretension in rock and roll and he seems to have made it a way of life of be pretty much as raw as possible. “That sense of entitlement is what I’m talking about — if you think that way, you’re fucked,” he says with a laugh. “The rock business in general takes itself too fucking seriously and when I talk about not taking it so seriously, I am talking about when people backstage aren’t allowed to look at the star, or aren’t allowed within 50 feet of the person. They’ve got to have trees imported to the backstage — that lame-ass shit.


“I mean, dude, this is the coolest fucking job in the world, period. I mean nobody deserves this job, ever. So when you get to do it, I think you have an absolute obligation to be nothing but the coolest motherfucker to everyone you see. You have no right to be a dick when you get to do what I get to do.”


Is it possible to be cocky yet humble at the same time? I think Hughes may have pulled it off; he has absolute confidence in himself, and yet no illusions about his place in the world. “I’m just a rock fan like everyone else,” he concludes. “I’m just a monkey that gets to play the guitar. The lack of joy in rock ’n’ roll is painful. I’m living the fucking dream and I’m dreaming to live.”

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Big Band

by Curtis Wright


Bellowhead Answers Our Skillet-Testing Questions


For instance, what kind of folk band includes taxi horns and a frying pan in its percussion setup?


When it takes you more than two hands to count the number of people in your band, you get a lot of room in which to try out different musical ideas.


Take the sharp-dressed British 11-piece folk combo Bellowhead, for instance, who are prepared to use... well, if not the kitchen sink, then at least a kitchen utensil or two to get the sound they’re looking for. Besides normal instruments like the glockenspiel and the drums, percussionist Pete Flood plays taxi horns, a coal scuttle, and various wind-up toys — and on “Jordan,” from Bellowhead’s debut album Burlesque, he added a frying pan to his percussion setup in order to achieve just the right industrial sound.


Founding band member Jon Boden laughs about the frying pan (and my persistence in asking him about it); he says they use the object in their live shows simply because it’s pretty easy to carry around. “I don’t want to make it sound like the pan is the centrepiece of our act,” he says. “It’s just one little thing. We use a lot of things for our sounds; we’re not the frying pan band from England.”


Fair enough. But maybe their willingness to throw a pan or two into the mix says something larger about Bellowhead as a whole. “We’re not like any other band I’ve come across,” Boden says with a self-assured laugh.


If they employ a kazoo or a whistle in a song, it’s not just an arbitrary way of mixing things up, he says; it’s a tactic calculated to keep people on their folk-music toes: “What range [of sound] allows you to do for a live show is to make sure that the audience never loses interest. You can always keep changing the sound. No matter how exciting a band is, most bands start sound similar after about four songs. It’s very nice having a band with this range of instruments. You can throw something totally different in the middle of a set, to kind of wake the audience up.”
Their slot at the 2008 Edmonton Folk Festival got them noticed by a few local music fans — with 11 members, it was hard to ignore them — but so far, their Canadian audiences aren’t as passionate or as large in number as their following in the U.K. But that might change soon: they have a dynamite new album, Matachin, in stores — and in North America at least, they still have the element of surprise on their side. “A lot of people in the U.K. have seen us already,” Boden says, “so they’re already kind of expecting the frying pan.”

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The Banjo Man

by Curtis Wright


Primus Polymath


The tireless Les Claypool is a bass virtuoso, a movie director, a novelist and a wine entrepreneur


I’m still not sure how Les Claypool managed to make time for me to interview him. Considering how many projects he has going on the side, it’s a small miracle that he’s available to do any promotion at all (even though the guy has his name all over so many things, he’s pretty much a self-promotion machine).


Claypool’s side projects have never been the typical side projects. Sure, there are a few musical collaborations in there, but the Primus bass player also keeps himself busy directing feature films, penning novels (his first, South of the Pumphouse, was published in 2006), and everyone’s favourite pastime: developing and manufacturing his own (well-regarded) brand of Pinot Noir. What to most people are merely pipe dreams are the things Mr. Claypool accomplishes on an ordinary weekend.


“I think anytime [you take on a side project], whether it’s making a wine or writing a novel or making an album, they’re all daunting,” Claypool says. “There are so many parallels you can make to other elements in life, like your first day on a job or whatever. You just decide you’re going to do it and you do. Lots of people have great ideas, but their follow-through is not necessarily part of the equation.”


Claypool admits that his side projects keep him insanely busy, but he hasn’t ever really known anything different. “It’s like my father,” he says. “There was always some deck partially built, or some retaining wall partially built, or some bathroom that was being remodelled while there was a car in the garage with the fenders off, having a valve job done. There was always some project being done. If there aren’t lots of pots on the stove, I’m kind of going crazy.”


Claypool seems sane enough as he talks about how his projects often have mixed results. When an opportunity to create the soundtrack for the videogame Mushroom Men: The Spore Wars came across his desk, for instance, Claypool jumped at it. “I thought the concept, the artwork, the storyline were really cool,” he says, “plus it was a way for me to make some brownie points with my young son, who happens to be a gamer.”


On the other hand, he says, maybe when he agreed to direct the feature film Electric Apricot, he bit off more than he could chew: “It was a huge pain in the ass. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do in my life. It’s like climbing Mt. Everest wearing nothing but a Speedo — you lose appendages to frostbite and it’s torture, but as soon as you get down you’re looking for the next mountain to climb. I just think next time I’m going to wear more than a Speedo.”
Claypool’s stove may be piled a little high with pots and pans, but it’s hard not to admire his steady equilibrium. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it wasn’t fun,” he says. “This is a pretty damn cool job that I have — I can’t complain at all.”

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Alberta Break

by Curtis Wright


If The Provincial Archives Could Sing ...

Cori Brewster found musical inspiration in forgotten corners of Alberta history

CORI BREWSTERBlue Chair Café (9624-76 Ave). Fri, June 5 (8pm). Tickets: $15, available in advance at 989-2861.



I remember how, when I was a kid, every summer my parents would haul out the old oversized atlas of Alberta and every summer they’d tell my brother and me to pick a spot on the map we’d like to check out. Because it was located basically in the middle of the province, Red Deer was the first Alberta break we took. My recollection, sadly, is that it wasn’t nearly as cool as I’d hoped. But as I grew older and learned a thing or two about the actual history of Alberta and the wealth of attractions our province offers, I realized there’s more of a story to be told here than my childhood self ever imagined.



Calgary singer/songwriter Cori Brewster could have told me that years ago. She celebrates Alberta’s rich and largely unknown history on her latest album, Buffalo Street. With this release, Brewster joins a distinguished group of Albertan vocalists — people like the legendary Ian Tyson and that hurtin’ Albertan, Corb Lund — who share her affinity for storytelling and times gone by.
Buffalo Street began modestly, as a concept album simply about Brewster’s family history, but it took on a life of its own when family and friends insisted that she take her passion and her personal history public. And indeed, much of the charm of the Buffalo Street project comes from the way anybody can relate to wanting to know a bit about their ancestry. “I certainly have a long history [in Alberta],” Brewster says. “My great-great grandfather arrived here in 1886, my father was born here, and my grandfather was born here. And when I moved back here [to Bow Valley], I thought it might be time to rediscover my sense of place and cultural roots.”



As with Ian Tyson, a large part of Brewster’s fascination with Alberta comes from her love of unearthing little-known stories from the past. Take the song “That Was Hell,” for instance, which celebrates the colourful legend of explorer and guide Bill Peyto, who saved the lives several stranded climbers, fought grizzly bears (not with his bare hands, but still!), and enjoyed bringing live lynx into bars and shooting them. The song, however, illuminates the softer side of the unruly man: a smitten Wild Bill marries the woman of his dreams and when she suddenly passes away, he gets lost in the heartache and finds support in a bottle and a backcountry cabin. A tamed Peyto, Brewster sings, “was wounded in the war and barley made it home. That was hell, but not like losing you.”



“Stories resonate with everybody and a lot of people can relate to the element of storytelling,” Brewster says. “I sort of let the hidden treasures find me.... There are a lot more stories to be told.”And Brewster hopes other artists like her act quickly before some of those stories are lost forever. “Banff, as much as being an incredibly beautiful place to be, doesn’t pay attention to the historical aspect,” she says. “If it doesn’t, it could be swallowed up and become only a tourist town. I think it’s important that the people that live there promote their history. It’s not just another tourist town — it has a wealth of history and a story to tell....



“I think it’s important that we preserve the culture and sink into something else. It’s too easy to look for the Starbucks instead of the history of the area.”

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I See Sounds

by Curtis Wright


Of Space, Songwriting, And Synaesthesia


Everything about The Flowers of Hell’s Greg Jarvis sounds like it came from a sci-fi novel


THE FLOWERS OF HELL w/ Flora. Brixx Bar & Grill (10030-102 St, downstairs). Thu, May 14 (doors at 8pm, show at 9pm). Tickets: $8 at the door.

The ultimate show for a space-rock band would be a concert literally in outer space. Not too many bands can say that they’ve gigged in front of extraterrestrial life, or brought their dark energy into dark matter.


The Flowers of Hell haven’t actually played in space, but they’ve come a lot closer to than most. And when the 16-piece, trans-Atlantic band shuttle through Edmonton next Thursday, chances are they’ll be bringing some of their psychedelic spaciness with them.


The Flowers of Hell’s relationship with regions beyond Earth’s atmosphere is rooted in more than their sound, which has been aptly (if wordily) described as “beauteous quasi-classical folk-blues cum motorik shoegazing pop.” The band’s highly eclectic, very cinematic sound has a great range, and apparently so does its fanbase. When Greg Jarvis, the creative force behind The Flowers of Hell, started receiving e-mails from the ridiculously smart (and, it seems, musically passionate) National Aeronautics and Space Administration about how much their eclectic orchestra was loved around space headquarters, the band was a little blown away. “It was pretty great to find out that the people at NASA are into space rock,” Jarvis says.


According to Jarvis, it all started when a guy who actually worked at mission control got hold of some of their stuff and synced a FOH track with video of the launch of Discovery’s latest mission. From there, he says, “the song became sort of a viral hit at the space station.” In fact, the latest e-mail Jarvis received from a NASA fan was sent from an orbiting shuttle just before it re-entered the earth’s atmosphere — you know, just a quick out-of-planet note stating, once again, how much they enjoy the band’s stuff.


The love the NASA crew are showing for the band makes sense once you learn about the scientific forces behind Jarvis’ music. Jarvis has the neurological phenomenon known as synaesthesia, which in his case means that different sound timbres literally cause his brain to superimpose different shapes and images upon the reality he is seeing.


“Drums will be like a set of dots,” he says, “[and] a distorted guitar kind of looks like a furry brushstroke running across things.” (He describes his condition as walking around with an iTunes Visualizer in his mind.) In fact, this phenomenon gives him such pleasure that when making an album he focuses on “really just making a record that is going to light up my synaesthesia,” and composing the songs often becomes a matter of arranging those various shapes.


And judging from the sound of FOH’s latest effort, Come Hell or High Water, there were a lot of shapes coming from Jarvis’ speakers. “The only time [synaesthesia] can be distracting,” he says, “is when you’re in noisy environments or if you’re trying to concentrate on something and there’s a lot of talking going on.”


And even if the people who hear his music don’t see the same translucent shapes that Jarvis does, he enjoys how FOH’s sound-shapes “kind of shut people up for a while.... The idea of being briefly taken away somewhere else is the level we try to hit with the live show.”


Whether that place is outer space or a location deep within Jarvis’ mind remains unconfirmed; however, we can say that NASA has no plans to launch any probes into his brain, which means that currently, the only way to access it is by seeing his band play live.

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Tall, Dark and Anthem

by Curtis Wright


Tall, Dark, And Anthem

Audiences from New Jersey to Great Britain have embraced The Gaslight Anthem’s blue-collar sound


THE GASLIGHT ANTHEMw/ Heartless Bastards. The Starlite Room (10030-102 St). Wed, Apr 8 (8pm). Tickets available through Ticketmaster, unionevents.ca, Blackbyrd.


The Gaslight Anthem is just as blown away by their newfound recognition as you would be if you suddenly found yourself onstage, headlining shows in cities you’ve never heard of — they’re a band that’s still more used to recalls in the audience at shows, not the headlining act.

“We were the fans very, very recently.” says frontman (and former construction worker) Brian Fallon. “It came out of nowhere. Yesterday I was sweeping floors and cleaning up roofing tiles, and now I’m playing in Canada to over 900 people.” Maybe it’s those dreams of ditching his nine-to-five existence and moving on to something better that Fallon is thinking of when you hear him sing the line “We were always waiting for something to happen” on “Great Expectations,” the leadoff track to the band’s breakthrough 2008 album The ’59 Sound.

Fallon says their band has always taken a blue-collar approach to making records. “We always wanted to be that band that everyone kind of felt like it was their band,” he says. “It didn’t matter how big or small things got, that it could still feel like it was their band. We’re singing songs for them — the common everyday guy — ’cause that’s really what the four of us are.”

The New Brunswick, N.J. quartet (which also features bassist Alex Levine, drummer Benny Horowitz and guitarist Alex Rosamilia) formed in 2005 and released their first disc, Sink or Swim, in 2007. But it wasn’t until 2008 that The Gaslight Anthem’s stock began to rapidly rise, with the Brits enthusiastically embracing their nostalgic sound, part Joe Strummer greaser and part Otis Redding soul, and Pitchfork giving The ’59 Sound a rave. (“It’s simple, it’s sincere, and it kills me every time,” the reviewer wrote, in a rare display of unabashed enthusiasm from the hard-to-please site.) Not bad for an album that Fallon says was conceived merely with “the intention of playing it live — it’s really a preview of seeing us onstage.”

That live show is filled with homages to their musical heroes — from live covers of soul legend Ben E. King, references to trumpeter Miles Davis, or songs like “I’da Called You Woody, Joe,” a heartfelt tribute to Joe Strummer that was one of the highlights of their 2005 debut: “I carried these songs like a comfort wherever I’d go,” reads one of the song’s key lines, and Fallon happily confesses how the sounds of The Clash used to resonate within the walls of his teenage bedroom. Listening to Strummer would give him the confidence that everything was going to be alright, he says, and remind him to hold life’s precious moments close to him.

As Fallon talks about his band’s success, it’s hard not to think of the community spirit of a band like The Clash. They might not be playing to the same size crowds, but like Strummer, Fallon takes the idea of someone putting his music on their stereo or invite them into their city very seriously. “You feel grateful,” he says, “because you’ve never been [to a city] and the fans don’t owe you anything — you owe them everything. I feel like a citizen of everywhere.”

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Warm Up

by Curtis Wright


The Cave Singers

Welcome Joy

(Matador)

****

A warm, reflective trip filled with minimalistic guitar, soft and inviting drumming, and whispery vocals, Welcome Joy isn’t so much joyous as it is serenely blissful. Seattle’s Cave Singers belong to that current wave of folk bands whose albums make a point of sounding like they were recorded in a barnyard or around a campfire (albeit with the very best sound equipment) — but they do it a lot better than most. You can listen to Welcome Joy in one of two ways: you can put on your headphones and get swept away by its soft layers, or you can use it as background music that enhances conversation without overwhelming it. “Hen of the Woods” squeezes the album’s essence into one song: a noodling guitar begins things perfectly, and it only gets better when it’s joined by a steady drumbeat and Pete Quirk`s delicate vocals. This isn’t an album of standout tracks, though — it’s about a sustained overall mood, one you can only fully appreciate if you listen to the entire thing.
CURTIS WRIGHT

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Humble Heroes

by Curtis Wright


B-Sides

Modest Mouse

No One’s First and You’re Next

(Sony/Epic)

***1/2


Some bands have a knack for putting out challenging and provocative material every time out of the gate — on No One’s First and You’re Next, an odds-and-sods collection of songs recorded between 2004’s Good News for People Who Love Bad News and 2007’s We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank, Modest Mouse brings it way, way more than most other so-called “indie” bands. B-sides have never sounded so good: “Guilty Cocker Spaniels” feels like someone dared the band to fill a song with as many catchy hooks and interesting breakdowns as possible. Yet it’s Isaac Brock, continuing the intrigue with his bipolar, often creepy singing style, who makes the track stand out. “Before I could spit it out / I guess the words had burnt my mouth / What could I say? / Worst of all I laid it out / So you could take it out of context anyway,” Brock moans with unparalleled bitterness — words that most people can relate to, but couldn’t say with quite the same flair.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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Album Cover of the Year

by Curtis Wright


Dancehall

Major Lazer

Guns Don’t Kill People... Lazers Do

(Cooperative/Downtown)

***1/2


The story: Philadelphia’s Diplo and London’s Switch head to Mr. Marley’s Tuff Gong studios in an effort to legitimatize the dancefloor. What they find is a superhero — a soldier with a pretty major lazer instead of an arm and a bone to pick with stale dancehall reggae. With a long list of Jamaican vocal stars making guest appearances, Guns Don’t Kill People brings energy and authenticity to an at times artistically shaky scene. (I’m looking at you, Sean Paul.) The opener, “Hold the Line,” is something you’ve never heard before, but which you’ll want lots more of from now on: the wacky surf guitar intro and something that sounds like a horse trotting explode into a full-on dancefloor banger that will leave you reaching for a Red Stripe and vibrating like a Nokia. (Their words, not mine.) Diplo and Switch bring an unpredictable range of influences and an unmatched energy to this project... and the result is a pretty wild ride. Pick it up before the summer sun sets.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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Mars Attacks

by Curtis Wright


Prog Goes Mellow

The Mars Volta

Octahedron

(Warner Bros.)

**1/2


Epic: it’s a word music snobs and indie record store employees love to throw around when describing any album that’s slightly louder or longer than normal. In fact, the word is abused to frequently that almost anyone interested in music has probably learned to stop reading any review that mentions it. Ahem. Is anyone still there? Unfortunately, there’s no other way to describe the sound of The Mars Volta — that is, until they released Octahedron. This one is as incredibly odd as the previous Mars Volta records, but gone is the enigmatic prog-rock commotion of Deloused at the Crematorium and the bedlam of, er, The Bedlam in Goliath, replaced by MV’s oddball take on the campfire singalong. “With Twilight as My Guide” is probably their most successful expedition into lighter territory, as it starts with their trademark slow build-up, and then simply ends instead of reaching once again for that epic sweet spot. It’s not awful, but probably something much different from what most Mars Volta or At the Drive-In fans will be hoping for.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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Socialists Club

by Curtis Wright


Rap-Rock

Street Sweeper Social Club

Street Sweeper Social Club

(Universal)

***1/2


Tom Morello has worn a lot of hats since his days of getting very, very angry on the subject of The Machine — from those occasionally awkward days in Audioslave to his protest-folk incarnation as The Nightwatchman — but none of them have fit as comfortably as his current project with The Coup’s socially conscious rapper Boots Riley. And unlike most rap-rock projects, Street Sweeper Social Club doesn’t suffer from the inane lyrics and pissed-off-for-the-sake-of-it cynicism that cripple the Limp Bizkits and Linkin Parks of the world. SSSC is a strong album because of Riley’s upfront tongue-in-cheekiness and his witty lyrics. “Fight! Smash! Win!” contains some of Riley’s sharpest barbs: “If you got a blacklist, I wanna be on it/If we gonna attack this, then we need to run it/If you see my hood, man, you might call it ghetto/Politicians are puppets, let’s get Gepetto.” Sharp rhymes, coupled with Morello’s guitar wizardry, make Street Sweeper Social Club a rarity: a rap-rock album worth listening to.
CURTIS WRIGHT

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Uplifted

by Curtis Wright


Alt-Rock

311

Uplifter

(Sony)

*1/2


Is someone in 311 sleeping with a Sony record exec? They’ve been allowed to put out one awful album after another four years, and Uplifter continues their trend of unremarkable noise. Hyped as 311’s hardest album yet, Uplifter takes a dash of rock-radio “hard” guitar, infuses it with a bit of what I think is supposed to be reggae, and mixes it all up into an unlistenable 46 minutes and 54 seconds that I’ll never get back. What makes this album so notably terrible, though, isn’t the music but the lyrics, which I’m embarrassed just listening to — I can’t imagine actually singing them. On “Something Out of Nothing,” wordsmith Nick Hexum sings, “I’ve one conclusion/It’s not illusion/But it’s creativity/The supernatural thing that happens between you and me, yeah.” Yeah. Perhaps it’s best to look at this Bob Rock-produced failure as a motivational album. It lets all those terrible young bands out there know there’s no reason to let lack of talent, originality, inspiration, or honesty stand in the way of their dreams.
CURTIS WRIGHT

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Don't call it a comeback...

by Curtis Wright


Failed Comeback

Eminem

Relapse

(Interscope)

**1/2


Apparently having heard the rumours that he was washed up, Eminem has once again honed in on the darkest parts of his psyche (a surprise, considering how bright and breezy he seemed on his previous albums) in hopes of recapturing the compelling mix of humour and psychodrama that made The Marshall Mathers LP such an attention-grabber. Well, Mr. Mathers’ familiar old demons — his mom, his stepfather, his ex-wife — all make return appearances on Relapse, but the only reaction they’re likely to provoke is a weary “Yeah, this dude’s sure got issues.” “I was born with a dick in my brain / Yeah, fucked in the head,” he announces on “Insane” — but this time out, the line sounds pathetic and painful instead of funny. It’s good to see Eminem has ended his five-year hiatus from the recording studio, but the mind-numbing darkness of Relapse, coupled with Dre’s equally tiresome production, gets real old, real quick. And there’s still Relapse 2 to follow later this year.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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American Dream

by Curtis Wright


D Is For Dookie

Green Day

21st Century Breakdown

(Reprise)

***1/2


Green Day are no longer content merely to sing about masturbation. With 21st Century Breakdown, they’ve followed up their breakthrough rock opera American Idiot with another concept album that’s their most musically and lyrically mature album to date. (Granted, this is a band whose biggest-selling album was titled Dookie, but still.) Where American Idiot wallowed in the despair created by everyone’s favourite lame president, 21st Century comes at the dawn of a (somewhat) sunnier new era. However, Green Day refuses to be completely swept up in Obamamania: on “American Eulogy,” Billie Joe Armstrong chides, “True sounds of maniacal laughter/And the deaf-mute is misleading the choir/The punchline is a natural disaster/And it’s sung by the unemployed/Fight fire with a riot.” You can’t help but think that if that choir really does consist of America’s unemployed, they must be pretty loud, and delivering an equally deafening punchline. An album worthy of the hype.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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Annie Gets Her Song

by Curtis Wright


Paradise Found


St. Vincent


Actor


(4AD)


****


St. Vincent’s sophomore album Actor (following 2007’s Marry Me) sounds the way you’d expect the music in heaven to sound — if every cloud in heaven were occupied by a romantic castaway newly filled with charming optimism. With an impressive repertoire of instruments adorning every song and blessed with Annie Clark’s chillingly angelic voice, Actor has an insanely friendly sound that evokes the kind of happiness you ordinarily can only dream about — not unlike Clark’s former band, The Polyphonic Spree. At the same time, all the starry-eyed choral singing and blissful harp-plucks on the album’s opener, “The Stranger,” have a creepy undercurrent as Clark sings “What do I share? What do I keep from all the strangers who sleep where I sleep?” Throughout Actor, Clark sings from the perspective of a young woman who has somehow managed to have been repeatedly disappointed by love with a great portion of her hopefulness having miraculously remained intact. This is a remarkably lovely album, made even more outstanding by the contrast with Clark’s suspiciously dark words. CURTIS WRIGHT

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Bring the Pain

by Curtis Wright


Cute Stuff


Death Cab For Cutie


The Open Door EP


(Atlantic/Barsuk)


***1/2


I can’t help but feel that there isn’t a real reason for this release. Sure, it’s full of the leftovers from Narrow Stairs — but these surplus songs attempt nothing new. Perhaps as a way to milk the acclaim of what’s arguably Death Cab’s best release, The Open Door EP continues to bring the despair. For a band with this much popularity in both the sad circles and with the music supervisors on hit twentysomething TV shows, this five-song set reveals a Ben Gibbard still unable to find his way out of his ever-present love-funk. On “A Diamond and a Tether,” a man wonders why he can’t be in love while admitting he has “fantasies about being alone”— mildly amusing, considering the always-woeful Gibbard has recently gotten engaged. The EP’s highlight, “Talking Bird,” isn’t even a leftover, but a completely stripped, cutesy demo of a Narrow Stairs track. Still, the songs on The Open Door EP won’t disappoint any Death Cab fans — even a collection of b-sides as sparse and unadventurous as this one adds to the band’s ever-growing catalogue of melancholy and heartache.


CURTIS WRIGHT

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God Awful! (?)

by Curtis Wright


Ugh

USS

Questamation

(Smashing World)

*1/2


With Questamation, the Toronto-based duo USS (the name stands for Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker; no, I am not making that up) proudly joins the world of uninteresting, unbearable, and ultimately disposable radio-friendly garbage. USS’s MySpace page describes their sound as “Nirvana unplugged at a science centre rave with DJ Premier. Bob Marley in a lab coat. Chuck D and Flavor Flav at a motivational seminar. A campfire afterparty.” I have no problem with a band trying to eclecticize its sound, but this is really too much. (Hey, if they can make “Questamation” a word, why can’t I make up eclecticize?) But their flashy attempts at sounding diverse and unique come off merely as generic and forgettable. And don’t get me started on the regrettable songwriting: on “Stationery Robbery,” when a thief laughs about how he “stole your pen, so you can’t ever write again,” it’s amusing only as an apologetic explanation for why their lyrics are so dreadful. The badness of this album leaves me with a Questamation of my own: why will it make USS even more popular than before?


CURTIS WRIGHT

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Nightmare

by Curtis Wright


The-Album

The-Dream

Love vs. Money

(Def Jam)

**1/2


Ah, the eternal debate: love vs. money. We’ve all had to choose one or the other, but it takes like a pure romantic like The-Dream to break it down into accessible, cookie-cutter segments bolstered by notable appearances by Mariah Carey, Lil Jon, and the forever-reserved Kanye West. But it’s The-Dream’s velvety voice that remains up front on Love vs. Money as he waxes poetic on his encounters between the sheets with various “shawtys” and drops many a metaphor for how magnificent it is to be in the The-Dream business. After listening to “Put It Down,” on which The-Dream gets particularly deep about how he’s “all up on [his girl] like a monster truck,” imagine my surprise upon learning he’s married. You have to give the guy credit, though he does remind any ladies who might be listening that he’s none too pleased about being used for his big airplanes, Louis Vuitton bags, and designer shoes. By the end of the disc, when The-Dream realizes that he successfully exchanges his fame, fortune, and smooth voice for versions of “love,” a more apt title might be Love & Money: Not a Bad Combo.
CURTIS WRIGHT

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Heavy, man.

by Curtis Wright




Spectral Sounds
DM STITH
Heavy Ghost
(Asthmatic Kitty)
***1/2




Pop on Heavy Ghost, the first album from graphic designer and Sufjan Stevens protégé David Michael Stith and you’ll soon realize you have a challenge ahead of you. Stith has some eclectic influences, and he seems to have made it his mission to layer every single one of them into these atmospheric, complexly arranged soundscapes. The haunting, highly textured album opener, “Isaac’s Song,” clocks in at just over a minute but its manic, otherworldly piano-playing perfectly sets up the rest of the listen, from the chaotic percussion thundering through “Fire of Birds” to the soft finger-plucking and sprawling lyrics of “Pity Dance.” The latter song contains what may be Heavy Ghost’s key lyric, when Stith regretfully admits, “I ought to learn I can’t please myself every time.” Given the album’s complicated sound, it’s clear that he’s every bit as mystified by what he’s created as the listener.
CURTIS WRIGHT

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Why you screaming?

by Curtis Wright










Odd Couple

Chris Cornell

Scream

(Interscope)

**1/2





When the rumour surfaced that mega-producer Timbaland would be the force behind Chris Cornell’s next album, people couldn’t quite believe it — or perhaps they didn’t want to believe it. On the surface, the Scream team appears to be the most ill-conceived musical marriage since David Bowie and Bing Crosby sang about a tiny drummer boy. And quickly (very quickly) into the opener, “Part of Me,” the peculiarity of this collaboration becomes glaring. An introduction that seems more like a parody welcomes the former grunge icon. Go a bit further and you hear Cornell clumsily remind the listener that “that bitch ain’t a part of me” — and it’s at this point that you realize Cornell has made a complete 180 and a very big musical mistake. As for Timbaland, he holds up his end of the bargain and had this been a Justin Timberlake project, it would have worked well. (In fact, JT appears on “Take Me Alive,” perhaps the album’s most cringe-worthy cut.) Ultimately, the uncomfortable union of Cornell’s voice and Timbaland’s signature sound makes this one of the most awkward albums you’ll hear for a while.

CURTIS WRIGHT

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