geekent’s stuff’n things

The Super Friendz are one of my favorite Canadian acts, going way back to my days in high-school when I was introduced to them by Phasers on Stun-come-Parka member Greg Rhyno. Mr. Rhyno was predominently responsible for me getting interested in the alternative rock scene in Canada (having been primarily a hip-hop fanatic to that point).

The Phasers were opening for the Al Tuck (and No Action)/Super Friendz tour stop in Thunder Bay (Chris Murphy of Sloan was playing drums on the tour, as the Friendz don’t have a regular drummer), so I went out to be supportive and wound up loving the band, purchasing a copy of Mock Up, Scale Down and practically memorizing the disc. It was a sad day for me when I found out they broke up after the disappointing performance of their sophomore album, Slide Show.
Matt Murphy left Halifax for Toronto and formed the equally amazing Flashing Lights while Drew Yamada and Charles Austin went on to form Neuseiland. But after six years performing apart the gang got back together after realizing that now they see eye to eye musically.
This past May they embarked on a “we’re back” tour of Canada in promotion of their new release “Love Energy”. This hometown show in Halifax was in a bar called “the Attic”, which, for the uninitiation, is fucking difficult to find, as it doesn’t have an entrance of it’s own, you have to enter in via another bar.
The show didn’t start proper until roughly 11:45 pm when Al Tuck hit the stage solo, performing with a bluegrass twan and a bit of rust guitar fingering. His sound was dim and his performance was equally uninspired. A dozen or more people sat on the floor in observation, or fell asleep, the remainder of the crowd continued to chat (for Tuck’s volume was less than the dj music between sets).
Finally the Friendz took to the stage about 12:40 am, happy, energetic and having tonnes of fun. The crowd was enjoying it too, even the frat-boy strollers from the bar downstairs were nodding their heads for a song or two.
But the show wasn’t all there for me. While I certainly enjoyed the exhuberance and the craftsmanship the Friendz new songs contain (more great power-pop tunes, without a doubt) their butchering of all their older material really left me kind of jaded. Matt would sing out of tune or lose the words completely. Drew also would occasionally miss a lyric or start off on the wrong chord. Current drummer Dave Marsh held his tempo, and seemed to have learned the songs for the tour, while the rest of the band thought they could get away with recollection.
It dissapoints me that they didn’t hold enough respect for their previous work to really practice it, and in a two set performance that makes for 50% of a bad show.
But really I’m glad they’re back together, the new stuff sounds fab. I look forward to the Super Friendz/The Parkas tour that will inevitably happen.

jazz works best live, and heaven knows how long it’s been since i’ve gone out to a club and immersed my ears in the full jazz vibe. the emphasis on texture and improvisation within a group allows the ear to take a familiar tune, hear it run wild and absorb numerous other references. my favourite parts of a jazz piece usually are the strange throwaway parts of a solo, where an old song phrase sneaks in and before you can recognize it, its out of the spotlight and back into the darkness.

when i was in philly this past weekend, i was floored to discover brooklyn’s own sex mob was in town, playing at the painted bride art center, which made it easy to decide how to spend a saturday night. unfortunately, the price was a bit steep for us non-members, so steph was the only compatriot.

i was in the habit of the rock show late start, so we got there a few minutes late, right in the knick of time for the introduction. we leaped into the nearest two adjacent seats in the back row as the quartet walked out. led by slide trumpeter and arranger steven bernstein, sex mob laid down a funky beat, propelled by kenny wollesen on the drums and tony scherr on the double bass. their urban bohemian sound brought to mind the rolling sounds of soul coughing, except with less rock and more gear-changes than a formula 1 race. going from hard noise to delicate rhythms at the drop of a hat, they coasted along, providing the backbeat for briggan krauss’ alto sax to scream as it battled bernstein’s trumpet. sometimes they’d run together, other times they’d have a conversation between the two.

the atmosphere was relaxed as bernstein encourage the crowd to clap at anything at all and the audience lost any inhibition early from the seats, often engaging in a rapport with the charming mobster. the band ran through their own arrangements of both standard jazz fare like duke ellington to more popular styles, particularly john barry and his james bond themes. they handled the introduction to you only live twice with an off-the-cuff beauty before letting loose into a manic wall of sound, which drove the song over a cliff into the ocean. they took the blue danube and made it into a dixieland duck festival and the rolling stones’ ruby tuesday turned into a torchsong from the belly of a whale.

over two sets, sex mob brought the old jazz ethic back alive; they retreated with the cold technical precision sound and went back to the time when people went out to the clubs, heard the latest songs, went home and got lucky. i went back to the loft, kicking nails under the interstate, got drunk and watched a bridge too far whilst impersonating both sean connery and michael caine. i was pleased as punch to feel the full force of the mob and you must see them when they’re in your town.

Chances are if you’re here you made your way from Behind My Toilet by the ghost of Gringo Starr. Thanks for coming. By now you know the backstory, well as much as I do at the very least. Summerfolk. Owen Sound. August 16 - 18.
Also know this: I’m not the biggest of folk music fans, but I can’t exactly say I hate it either, because I don’t. It’s not a genre thing, and I can’t claim “radio friendliness” as its detractor because, well, you never hear folk music on the radio (with the glaring exception of Christian Folk which is in a whole level of annoyance all its own). Folk music is as black sheep as funk right now, so it’s roots are heavily independant. Most of the artists appearing at Summerfolk are unsigned and self-produced with the exception of the big names like Murray McLauchlan (spelling.. copy boy?!?!?) and Bruce Cockburn, so they’re as rootsy and alt as the bands I see in Toronto, so what’s the diff?
Well, I’ve narrowed it down to this: rhythm.

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