Capital Idea Festival Day 3: The Walkmen @ Bronson Centre

When we walked into the Bronson Centre I think it's safe to say we were all thinking the same thing:"Where the fuck are we?" The Bronson Centre, a.k.a the former Immaculata High School, was literally a high school auditorium. It was a really strange place to be seeing a rock and roll show (especially one that cost $30). Everyone was sitting in their seats listening to the opening bands, and it had the feel of third period assembly, except there were less people. I was waiting for the vice-principal to stand up and tell everyone to quiet down. We all sat in our seats trying to understand how something like this had happened, and vowing that when the Walkmen came on we were going to stand up and go to the front of the stage. Before they came on the stage, we started cheering for them, and everyone in the auditorium was really thrown off. It was like, because we were in an auditorium, people couldn't act like they normally would at a rock concert. Very, very strange atmosphere. Despite this and a shitty sound guy, the Walkmen managed to put on a good show. They played a bit more new stuff than I would have liked, but the old stuff they played was spot on. When they broke in to The Rat everyone lost it. All across the front row people were banging their fists on the stage in rhythm. I was screaming/singing along, loving every minute. Too bad the vocal mic was only going through the PA system (which we were behind) so the vocals we heard were the echoes of the auditorium behind us. . .fucking Bronson centre. But I'm not bitter, they played a good set and everyone had a good time. We were rocking out so hard we even got invited to the after party of the opening band Relief Maps, where, we were told, The Walkmen might show up. So we decided to go drink some beers before heading to the after-party. When we did eventually make it there, the 'party' had dispersed. The guitarist of Relief Maps was making out with his girlfriend on the front porch and it appeared we had missed the boat. I was somewhat miffed, so one of my friends asked me: "What did you expect, a huge 8 Aberdeen-style bash with people dancing on tables and a raging bonfire in the backyard?" And to be honest, that is what I was expecting. . .I guess when you live on Aberdeen St. for four years your expectations of what a typical after-party should consist of are tragically skewed.

Moral of the story: Walkmen = sick. Bronson Centre = a joke. Also, if you're ever invited to an after-party, don't show up two hours later and expect it to still be rocking.

Capital Idea Festival Day 2: Sunset Rubdown @ Babylon

As I mentioned yesterday, Sunset Rubdown is the new band of Spencer Krug, who we all know from Montreal's Wolf Parade. Spencer Krug shares lead vocals with Dan Boeckner in Wolf Parade, however this year both guys have branched off and done their own thing with their own bands. Boeckner's band is called Handsome Furs in case you want to check them out.

I don't know about you guys, but I never really liked the two lead singer concept of Wolf Parade. I always preferred the songs that Boeckner wrote and discarded the Krug tracks. At one point I burned a CD of Apologies to the Queen Mary with all the Krug tracks deleted and renamed the seven song album Apologies to Spencer Krug. I really wasn't a fan of the guys extravagant vocals and elaborate keyboard parts.

But last night changed all that.

Krug, now with own band Sunset Rubdown, showcased his musical stylings amazingly and made me realize that I never gave him a chance when he was with Wolf Parade. With only four people in the band (no bass player?) Sunset Rubdown filled up the club with a wall a sound, which was complemented by Krug's distinctive wail. Despite the urgent and clamouring nature of the music, the band was incredibly tight. At one point, Krug, the guitarist, and the second keyboardist were doing a three part harmonized solo that looked as impressive as it sounded. I knew the show was a success when I inadvertantly started fist-pumping to the ever-infectious beat. That's always the way you can tell you're seeing a good show.

As well as enjoying a great set, I also learned about some cool new indie trends that the members of the bands nicely showcased.

1. Slipons - Now I know slip-ons have sort of been considered cool for a while, but I was finally convinced last night. Chuck taylor's are one thing, but slip-ons exude an air of 'casualness' that is hard to duplicate. The last time I had a pair of slip-ons was grade 1, I think the time has come to get a new pair.

2. Vibrators as musical instruments - For the last song of the set, the female keyboardist took out a vibrator and began playing her xylophone with it. If that's not indie, I don't know what the hell is.

3. Starter brand shoes - Remember Starter hats back in Grade 4? Well, apparently they made shoes as well, and the lead guitarist for Sunset Rubdown had a pair. The question is, do you think he bought them on Ebay, or were they his older brother's and he found them in a box in his parents basement?. . . I wonder. . .

4. Not doing encores - Now in this case, Sunset Rubdown didn't do an encore because of time-constraints, but I feel sometimes not doing encores is almost cooler than doing them. It would have been even cooler if the show was cheaper that $20 too, but I guess that's asking too much.

And that's the review. Good times had by all. Indie week in the Capital continues tonight with The Walkmen at the Bronson Centre. The Walkmen are one of my favourite bands and I'm quite pumped to finally see them live. Seeing as the show is in Ottawa, I have no doubt in my mind that I will be able to get myself a front row spot with no trouble at all.

Capital Idea Festival: The Besnard Lakes @ Zaphod's

The Capital Idea indie music festival kicked off last night with a strong show from the Besnard Lakes. The Besnard Lakes are a 6 piece slow-core group from Montreal and they did not disappoint. (I'm actually not sure if they could be defined as 'slow-core,' I just always wanted to use that word so I could sound like a pretentious indie-snob douchebag)

Anyway, they put on a good show, despite the inherent lameness of the lead singer. I've never been a fan of awkward crowd banter (who is?) and I was not amused by her various quips. Sometimes I feel like talking to the crowd takes away from the rockers mystique. But that's just me. Diego feels that an indie rocker should let their music speak for them, and I would have to agree. Look at the two coolest dudes in music right now: Julian Casablancas and Paul Banks. They don't tell drawn out anecdotes about getting drunk on absinthe at a video shoot; they just step up to the mike and throw down You Only Live Once and PDA (respectively) and everyone is happy.

I'm being too hard on Besnard Lakes, because, despite unnecessary crowd banter, they did put on a good show. Their three-part harmonies were air-tight and they created great atmosphere with each song. I was also very impressed with their drummer, who, as well being a great drummer, sang a mean Fleetwood Mac cover for their last song.

Capital Idea fest continues tonight with Sunset Rubdown, which is the band of Spencer Krug (one of the lead singers of Wolf Parade). I have big expectations thanks to the accolades of Stereogum and my hipster friend Diego.

Blackout

Well, I did it again. I got blackout drunk on Friday.

I didn't really see it coming. It all started so innocently. Me and my friends were watching the baseball game on my back porch casually drinking beers. A few hours later we were getting pretty toasty and our conversation was getting much louder. My sister told me we should probably move the "party" inside, as our neighbours have small children who are probably trying to fall asleep. So we decide to play Foosball in the basement and listen to NOFX's The Decline, which we all know is a sure-fire way to accelerate one's alcohol intake.

So now its around 11:30 and we are all sufficiently "dumbed-down." We decide to go to the bar. We don't really know why we're going to the bar, probably just so we can say we "did something"on Friday night, rather than having to admit that we spent the night sitting around my house drinking ourselves into oblivion.

So we take the bus down to the bar despite Corky's protests. (you see he believes that he's too good to take the bus. He once said, "I'm not taking the bus, it's for the peons" I wish I was joking but he actually said that) So anyway we take the bus and get in some stupid conversations with some idiots that we all instantly forgot. Sweet.

In good time, we make it to the bar. We stand in the VIP line because we're good friends with one of the bartenders which instantly makes us very important. We get in without much hassle and buy some booze. And the night disintegrates from there into a drunken mess.

Later that night, I shook hands with a homeless guy for some reason and promptly rub my hand into Corky's face, to his disgust. I order poutine from the York St. poutine shack and load on the sauerkraut because that's what's done now. Me, Cork, and Diego share a cab back to Westboro, where we probably had an in-depth and insightful conversation about third-world debt and the responsibilities of the G8 to alleviate global poverty. Or maybe we just talked how good Peter Bjorn and John is. I can't quite recall.

I wake up the next morning minus $60 and my memory. I'm still drunk and my burps taste like sauerkraut and gravy. I put 2 and 2 together and go get a big glass of water.

Thanks for the Memories

Well, it's over, the Sens lost the Stanley Cup final after coming into the series ever so confident. I can't say that I'm shocked that we lost last night's game and consequently the series. You knew something was up after we got manhandled in the first two games of the series. We managed to squeeze out a win in Game 3 even though the team (Emery especially) really didn't play all that well. Game 4 was even worse. The Sens played their best period of the series in the first, scored a late goal to gain all the momentum going into the second, only to fizzle out in the remainder of the game. So that's why I say I wasn't shocked at last nights outcome. If we had fought hard all series and then lost in game seven by one goal scored late in the third (see New Jersey vs. Ottawa Eastern Conference Final 2003) then I would be shocked. I would be so devastated that I would probably have to go lie down.

But last night was not shocking. It was simply the end of a series that was never going the Sens' way. So now we have to go through the excruciating motions of deciding "what went wrong" "who was to blame" and "What we need to change" but I'm not going to get into that because it makes me sick to think about it. Instead, I'm going to tell myself that the 9-day break between the Conference final and the Cup final was what did it, and maybe if that excuse falters I'll remember that the Ducks had more experience in the finals and a few more Canadians. Yeah, that'll do.

We could always just blame the drug habits of several key players on the Senators for the collapse. You see over the years, many of the top Sens have taken a liking to "riding the white dragon"as the kids say, and, as you can imagine, it has never helped their on-ice performance. I'm no weatherman or anything, but I'm sure there was a snowstorm in Anaheim last night in the Sens hotel. . .

But enough "jokes". Let's get serious.

I know alot of people say that making it to the Finals is nothing unless you win it all, but I think that's a load of hooey. Making it to the Cup finals was always the one thing we couldn't achieve in years past, but this year we did it. And it was almost a feeling of relief in Ottawa when we did. (recall two Saturdays ago?) With their huge break between series and the Canadian media tooting the Sens horn all week, maybe the Sens got a bit too over-confident going into the Finals. We forgot what needed to be done to win.

But we did have an amazing run. The past three months have been the most exciting time this city has ever seen . I've said it once and I'll say it again: There is nothing that unites a city like a championship team. Everyone has something to talk about with one another, everyone has something to cheer about and hope for. Whether you're a jock or a goth, a business man or a hobo, an indie kid or a construction worker, we all had something to cheer about these last few months. We all had something that brought us together. . .And I think was what the best thing about the Cup run.

That and being able to casually drink 10 beers each and every game night and not be called a lush. That was also good.

But anyway, thats my two cents. Thanks for the memories, Sens. You gave this sleepy town something to cheer about. . .And though you may not have earned a place on the Stanley Cup, you've definately earned a place in all of our hearts.

Understanding Indie/Pointless Drivel

The term Indie is being thrown around so much these days that the word has virtually lost all meaning. What does Indie even mean? Growing up in the nineties I always understood indie to mean "independent", meaning that the band or artist in question was not signed to a major record label. Indie bands were usually more underground and not part of mainstream culture.

I always like to describe Pavement as a quintessential indie band: Lo-fi guitar rock with an underground cult following. They gained their moderate commercial success without the support of a major label, and paved the way (pun intended) for many other independent bands.

The Internet changed everything. Suddenly bands could reach a much larger audience through the miracle of modern technology. When Napster hit the web at the turn of the millennium people were able to access music that they never would have heard otherwise. And now with pitchfork and soulseek and bit torrents everyone gets to hear everything.

So here's my question: If everyone likes indie music can it still be called indie? Or does it just become 'music'? Or if you say to someone "I like indie music" what does that mean? Do you mean you like music that they write about on Pitchfork? Or does it mean that you only like bands that aren't signed to major labels? What if a band was on an indie label and then they get signed to a major label? Do you still like them? What if a band was underground and then they become mainstream? Do you not like them because other people like them? And if so, why not?

I don't know why I'm asking all these questions about indie. Last night in a drunken stupor me and my pal Diego were talking about indie music (which we often do) and I thought I had this amazing idea for a blog entry. "Diego, should I do it? Should I write about indie? I think this could be my greatest blog entry ever." He looked at me and said, "Whitey, you do what you gotta do."

This morning I was crafting the blog entry in my head and thinking about how awesome it was going to be. I was even going to write an outline. An outline for god's sakes! But then, true to form, I gave up on that and wrote the entry off the top of my head. And this is what you get. Literary diarrhea. Pointless drivel written only to distract the writer and reader from things that actually matter, such as climate change and Senators hockey.

Disc Golf

Well, summer is here, and you know what that means: the anxiously awaited Disc Golf season has finally begun. Disc Golf, also known as Frisbee Golf or 'Frolf' to the layperson, is exactly what it sounds like: Golf with frisbees. The great thing about Disc Golf is that it can be taken as seriously or as casually as you like it.

Last summer, living in the student ghetto in Kingston, ON, we made a sweet disc golf course out of the blue lights that were scattered throughout the Queen's campus. The blue lights were installed as a safety measure in case a student felt threatened on campus; each lightpost had an intercom that connected to campus security. The ubiquity and distinctiveness of the lights on campus made them ideal holes for an afternoon game of Frolf.

Here in Ottawa, where people take frisbee-related sports very seriously, there are actual Disc Golf courses, where the 'holes' are in fact contraptions called 'Disc-catchers' or 'Pole-Holes' A Disc-catcher is comprised of a metal pole with a circular frame around the top and a circular bin at the bottom. The top frame has a number of chains hanging down from it, so that when a frisbee flies through, it is stopped mid-flight, and falls down into the bottom bin. They work quite well, especially if you are using frisbees that are specifically designed for disc golf. Much like a golfer has different clubs for different shots, a disc golfer has a variety of discs for different distances. You can purchase different discs for driving, mid-range, and putting. Of course, you have to be pretty serious about disc golf to spend the money on a full set. Using a regular frisbee is entirely acceptable for the casual disc golfer.

So next time you find yourself bored and broke on a sunday afternoon, gather up some friends and some frisbees and play a leisurely game of disc golf in your neighboorhood. You won't regret it. Just remember never to call it Frisbee Golf or Frolf in front of a serious Disc Golfer. This upsets them to no end.