Arise, Fair Sun, And Kill The Envious Moon

I decided to spend Saturday night checking out some live music at Lee's Palace, a venerable club in the Annex. Perhaps I have false memory of being there some time back, or maybe they renovated, but the layout seemed wholly unfamilar. Most people probably came for Juliette Lewis, but I wanted to check out the first opening band. I missed The Balconies when they opened for Gentleman Reg, but later bought their CD at Soundscapes. I liked their music and had read that they put on a great show. Of course, being the first band on at 9:30 would probably dampen most band's enthusiasm.

I noticed immediately that unlike the people in the clubs I've been to recently, this is a different crowd: less ironic hipster mustaches, more full-blown beards; black clothes and tattoos were the norm, not whimsical dresses and tight jeans. And I'm closer to the average age, as opposed to being on the tail end of the distribution. No time for beer, they were starting already, so I went down onto the sparsely populated area near the stage. The Balconies put on a tight set, enough to entice some of the early crowd into the main dance area by the time their set wrapped up. The drummer and bassist were fairly laconic. But the guitarist, and co-vocalist, with her high heels, tight pants, and Barbarella hair and make-up, was a spastic, jumpy, heel-kicking dynamo.

The area in front of the stage was filling up now. I grabbed a beer and made my way back to the front. Yes, lots of black and rocker logos on t-shirts, but some cute girls, too. A troop of them were beside me, including a short-haired blonde (described by friends as a Canadian Pink), with an overly large Harley t-shirt, cut down the sides to reveal a green, lacy lingerie-like top. By the time the second set finished, we were surrounded by some dames (and incongruously a petite Mary Lou Henner/Retton look-a-like [Lady Frost from the Smoke City Betties?]) from a woman's roller derby team. As for the band, Dearly Beloved, they claim to have formed in 2006. But the two guitarists looked about 20. The bassist (and lead singer), drummer, and back-up singer looked more experienced. They sounded a bit like the Red Hot Chile Peppers because of the complex bass lines. I guess when you're the bassist and lead for a band, you get to indulge in lots of bass wankery. I wasn't as impressed with the female back-up singer, as she seemed a little too Linda McCartney for me (i.e., singing a few lines, playing the tambourine, and doing lots of rock poses and silent shout-outs by pointing her fingers at her "peeps").

It's finally time for the head-liner. I didn't even know Juliette Lewis had a singing career on the side, but obviously her fans do. The people were packing up the area and pushing for the small stage. In addition to the rock girls and derby dames (because of Whip It?), there were now a number of lesbian couples, both the butch/femme combos as well lipstick lesbians, and women in fashionable wear, sporting elbow-length gloves and even head-dresses. Some of them were quite gorgeous, and seemed to actually be older than 25. Juliette Lewis and the Romantiques played standard rock, with some blues-tinged numbers, some ballads, and lots of sing-a-long choruses. Nothing that was extraordinary, but what she had was a powerful, theatrical, stage charisma and some rabid fans.

A lot of them were screaming, stretching out to her, and "rocking" out. I was never more glad for my ear plugs when I felt them vibrating furiously to keep out the high-decibel shrieking all around me. One 50 year-old man was apparently in a state of ecstacy, pumping his arms non-stop, and screaming "Yes, yes, yes" or "I love you" for several songs. I don't know what happened to him for the rest of the set. Some of the women started moshing, thrashing around into each other. I was bemused to realize I was being pushed around by women shorter than me. "Maybe I should start doing weights as well as yoga!" I thought. But then, some of them are in professional roller derby so I don't know if that would have helped. One lesbian dancer clambered up on the stage, cavorted around for a bit with Juliette, then dove off the stage. We caught her and shoved her to the back. Then more climbed on. I was psyching myself up to catch a girl who looked to be 170+ lbs, but by then security had had enough and ushered them all off.

Juliette started the show in a short jacket with black feathery fringes but doffed it and spent most of the set in tight jeans and a see-through red top. Her hair was dyed blue and there were red makeup over her eyes. Her band didn't go for the same Mad Max look but were composed of a guitarist in full fu-manchu and black, an afro-ed drummer right out of stoner casting, a bassist who might be Ming Na Wen's long lost twin, and another guitarist who could be 1st cousin to Miles Zuniga, the lead singer of Fastball.

I left at the end of the set and before the encore, a bit soaked in (other people's) beer and sweat. As I rode the subway home, I started chatting with a 76 year-old man. He had spent the day walking from Mississauga to Fort York in a Support-The-Troops walk. 40 years ago, he had married his 18 year-old bride at the age of 36. Well! Maybe I should have chatted up Canadian Pink; she was at least 22.