Chaos Theory

Although there were some good performances, CMF was disappointing this year. So I was pleasantly surprised at a post-CMF concert at The Garrison Tuesday night. The 3 bands tonight provided engaging and fun performances.

Local band The Box Tiger came on at 9 pm. They have an interesting sound: harder than pop but a little too indie to be rock. Over a driving beat, Sonia Sturino sang with a sharp edge songs from their EP as well as newer numbers Set Fire To Your Friends, Hostile Fire, and Knives. With a loud sonic palette, and usually lacking audience-friendly hooks, it was hard for them to get traction with new listeners.

The Brooklyn-based sisters of Chaos Chaos have an instant hook, being tall and striking young women. It didn't hurt that Asya Saaverda picked up a fitted Toronto Maple Leafs jersey at a local thrift shop earlier in the day. But their fun, catchy music was instantly likeable. Asya sang a dancy pop with synth chords (My Hands, Follow Me, Across The Map) that sometimes descended into noisy effects. But what drove their sound was the younger Chloe on drums. Highly partial to wild syncopated drumming, she was a dynamo behind the kit. Impressively, unlike most drummers, she usually did not fall back to the simplified 4/4 bass beat on complex patterns. She came to the front stage once to play a metal hand drum with Asya for a cover of Tegan and Sara's Closer.

It was a respectable 50-60 people tonight, and they all came for Australian band San Cisco. Lead singer Jordi Davieson was appreciative as they had played "for about 15 people yesterday in Pittsburgh". The 4-piece returned the love by enthusiastically performing their sunny pop full of sweet, ringing chords and sing-a-long refrain backed by drummer Scarlett Steven's surf-rock/skitter percussion. The crowd sang along to most songs from their EP and debut album (Girls Do Cry, Reckless, Toast, Rocket Ship, and break-out hit Awkward). To insistent chants for an encore, Jordie had to come back on stage and sheepishly admit to friendly laughter that they are "out of songs, but we can have a beer".

Old Man Winter

With winter finally releasing its grip on Toronto, the last Long Winter music/art festival was held Saturday night in conjunction with CMF. As usual, a mix of visual arts, music, and indie video games were showcased.

Two art installation caught my eye. Video Portraits replay the last few seconds of its capture over a live feed so that you see a "time trail" of your actions. The time trail gets progressively shorter leading people to typically gesture maniacally to make a kaleidoscope of overlapping images. Others went in the opposite direction, slowing down their movement to stretch out the effect.

The second installation invariably put a smile on everyone. A tiny hot dog stand (called The Big Dog) was set up. The vendor has his/her head poking through, but they had to do their job by manipulating a puppet body. For a loonie, you can have them grill you a teensy hot dog and served in an itsy croissant bun. Even the condiments came in smurf-size jars and bottles.

In the main Hall, Emma McKenna had an early time slot. She sang with a quaver, sounding like Tori Amos on the high notes, folk/pop songs about California sunsets and unfaithful lovers. The Skeletones Four (members of Legato Vipers and The Magic) did funky pop with driving bass and extended solos. Burning Love played loud, loud punk.

In the conversation room, Petra Glynt played noisy sampled dance with tribal beats. Her pixelated projections made the white walls and windows resembled an 80s video game made life-sized. Kool Thing, from Berlin, came to entertain the crowd with catchy dance/pop driven by jangly guitar hooks,  metronomic synth, and pounding percussion. Cold Specks ended the night with some gothic folk/rock. Her voice was big and powerful, but the overzealous mix saturated the signal.

Yoga Inc.

I haven't gone back to the Toronto Yoga Conference in years. Hosted at the Metro Convention Centre, it was a little too noisy and industrial. The smell of commercial-grade carpet shampoo was not a good addition to a yoga workshop. Saturday afternoon, I decided to drop by, not to participate in any of the workshops, but to check out the main Hall where the vendors ran their booths.

Once upon a time, yoga was (for sexist reasons) the exclusive domain of men. At least here in the West, it has become the total opposite. So it was with bemusement that I wandered through booths and booths offering feminine practice wear, day-to-day wear (yoga-inspired wraps, dresses, and pants), and jewelry. Another major category aimed at women was healthy food options: weight loss regime, cleanses, organic food and drinks, and what seems to be the next big thing, coconut water.

Beyond the yoga mat, and even the now quotidian props such as blocks, straps, and bolsters, there are thin yoga mat towels for hot yogas; plastic spongy pads for sensitive knees; toed socks; and perhaps the greatest indulgence yet: an $1800 chair, equipped not with arm rests, but adjustable knee rests so that you might comfortably sit cross-legged all day at the office.

Health-related practices are also a big selling point: ayurvedic diet, thai massages, shiatsu, and spinal assessment abound. There are also yoga vacations to exotic locales. For those wanting a break, there is a vegetarian food court; a garden court where half-hour classes are given, though how you can practice in such a din is beyond me; and a culture court, where performances of yogic chants, singing, or Indian dance are show-cased. 

Insert Food Here

The gentrification of Dundas W continues apace. A few doors down from The Federal, another small diner called This End Up has opened. Unlike the farmyard style of found furniture in other restos, they have gone with clean, modern tables and chairs. But as a nod to the retro aesthetic, giant signs (Smoke Craven "A"), maps, and paintings decorate the wall. As a casual dining place, they offer cocktails and gussied up staples like sandwiches and tacos perfect for brunch or a quick dinner.

For lunch I ordered the Basa Fish Po Boy ($14) with an extra order of fries ($2.50). The sandwich, salad, and fries came nicely presented on a tray. The arugula salad was serviceable, with thinly sliced cucumber, onions, and a sprinkling of sesame seeds for some extra crunch. The fries were hot and tasted great with the house ketchup (good vinegar base instead of overly sweet like store-bought version) and mayo. The only negative was that they weren't quite as crispy as their deep golden hue suggested.

The stand-out was the po boy. The fillet was perfectly cooked, lightly crispy on the outside, soft and tender on the inside. The soft mini-baguette keep the whole thing from falling apart. The lemon tarragon mayo and the pickles added little tangy bursts. This was a great sandwich to gobble up on a sunny Saturday.

Song of Ice (Some Fire)

Friday night at The Drake Underground, there was a special showcase of Icelandic bands curated by Iceland Naturally for CMF. Will they sound like Bjork circa Sugarcubes or more like their brethen Sigur Ros or Of Monster and Men?

It turns out the frigid temperatures of their native land have frozen their blood, or at least turn their soul inward, because both Asgeir Trausti and Soley played ambient, introspective sets. The 5 bearded members of Trausti didn't say much except "Thank you" between songs, and they didn't move much on stage. Over synth chords, slow bass, sporadic drums, and a plucked guitar string here and there, they sang quiet tunes in both English and Icelandic. Now and then, they ventured into more folk territory.

Soley was a bit more talkative and introduced each song. Oddly, at least for me, I barely understood anything she sang. As such, her voice became another instrumental line, weaving in and out of sparse composition. She joked, in an Icelandic/Bjork-esque accent full of rolled consonants, that she realized that "Friday night is party night. So here is a party song." What followed would be considered a slow ballad for other bands, but for her it was practically hip-shaking.

The packed house was comprised equal parts Icelandic ex-pats, music nerds, and drunken seniors, possibly music executives, or just curious tourists from the restaurant upstairs.

Garden State

On the third night of Canadian Music Fest, I finally made it out to to catch a few bands. At Lee's Palace, it was only about a quarter full when the first act came on, but it was packed by the second performance.

The members of The Trouble With Templeton were unprepared for the Canadian winter, as neither their home in Brisbane nor the recent gig at SXSW are in warm climes. But on the bright side, they saw snow for the first time and "Canadians are lovely". Their set contained new material including Six Months In a Cast and songs from their debut album such as Bleeders and 30 Something. Their folk/rock mix informed a majority of their songs, which often start with quiet acoustic guitar arpeggios or piano and building to layered, extended instrumental passages that gave them a chance to rock out.

The first time I saw The Balconies, they played to a mostly empty Lee's. Tonight, they performed in front of a packed house. They have added a new drummer, allowing previous stick-handler Liam to move to lead guitar. On the down side, Jacquie's transition to mostly rhythm guitar diminished her stature as a guitar goddess. But it allowed her to increase her already considerable visceral stage theatrics. She was even more expressive than before. On the up side, they now play with a bigger, heavier sound full of chunky guitars and sonic feedback. From a slowed down Beating Heart, to oldies The Slo, and upcoming Kill Count and Do It In The Dark, they got cheers for their energetic and tight set.

When Rah Rah took to the stage with their inflatable silver letters (spelling R-A-H), battery-powered fluffy robotic plush cats, and pixie-haired singers in flouncy skirts and pink guitar straps, I thought their sound would be twee pop. But they revealed their Saskatchewan upbringing with twangy country on Emmylou Harris and The Grievous Angel and Art & A Wife. When Marshall Burns was on lead, they usually returned to that core. But when Erin Passmore or Kristina Hedlund took the mic, they dipped their toes in exuberant pop (20s, Beaches) complete with instrument swapping and dancing. At the end, Rah Rah got the crowd to beach-ball bounce their letters around while they shot confetti at the front row.

Water Water Everywhere

This year was the 25th anniversary of Kalanidhi Fine Arts in Canada, with its mandate of promoting and showcasing Indian dance. It was actually founded 60 years ago in India by Sudha Khandwani. The 80 year-old couldn't be here this year as she was seeking treatment in India.

Over the course of 4 days, there have been numerous performances and symposia. I attended the Saturday night show at the Fleck Dance Theatre comprising of 2 solo artists and a troupe from Kerala.

Vaibhav Arekar came from Mumbai to dance Bharatanatyam, a dance that alternated between fast footwork and spins and slow and precise placement of hands and feet. Narmade Har Har tells the story of one of the 5 holy rivers of India and its journey through the country, and also metaphorically the development of womanhood from playful child to loving mother. It was interesting to watch the male Vaibhav take on various female persona in his gestures and poses. He also portrayed the stories of everyday people as they use the river to wash, to pray, and to travel.

The second soloist was Kathak dancer Amrapali Ambegaokar, a Bollywood actress based in Los Angeles. She came to her tutelage via her mother, also a Kathak dancer. With bells wrapped around ankles and complex foot taps and stamps (Kathak is related to flamenco), it's a melodious and urgent dance style. The svelte and beautiful performer added expressive arm movements and facial reactions to complete the stories. But her decision to perform several snippets and allowing us only brief experiences of each piece was a minor let-down. I would have enjoyed watching one or two complete works.

Samudra Dance travelled from Kerala to perform a contemporary work named Jalam. It was also about water, how it nourishes but also destroys, its soothing effect, and raging terror. Contemporary in Western dance is usually informed by its antecedents such as ballet. So it was instructive to watch a contemporary piece that has such different foundational elements: Indian styles including Bharatanatyam and even a martial art form called Kalaripayattu. For Western yoga practitioners, there were poses that were reminscent of the asanas they practice. The river was given form in the shape of billowing silk sheets, contained in teapots, and came to life as a powerful masked woman. It was a mesmerizing piece though I was partial to the more traditional sections.

A Few Good Bands

Friday night in the Cameron House backroom, a small venue with fake grape vines draped over a trellis of metal pipes, 2 bands had their CD release party. Unlike a previous evening of same-old sounds, there were some great discoveries tonight.

First up was The DoneFors, the only one on the bill without a new CD, although they are working on their 3rd album. Their eclectic style veered between Latin-inflected grooves, folk, and peppy pop. All their songs had complex poly-rhythm from drums, bass, and guitar, 2 or 3 part harmony, and long story-telling lyrics. It was catchy, jazzy, but cerebral music.

With just their guitar and upright bass, Taylor Ashton (Fish and Bird) and Zoe Guigueno (Joy Kills Sorrow) as Bull Kelp had quieter songs. But they were even more experimental. Over the standard pop song structure, they riffed complex chords, melodies, and bass lines. Their songs strayed from typical tunes, often eschewing rhyme and simple verse/refrain. Guigueno's were usually more image-heavy and impressionistic while Ashton's held more narrative; it was a good balance. But they can do more mainstream, ending the night with Deep Fry, a rocking number about urban life, and a sing-a-long cover of Killer Queen.

The Jessica Stuart Few's front-woman is known for her odd choice of instrument, a Japanese 13-string instrument known as the koto. Not the usual thing you find in a pop band. But she only played it on a handful of songs. Good thing too because outside of the sunny Don't Ya, her kalimba-esque playing didn't add much. Only once in a while was there an interesting arpeggio or pitch bend that drew the ear. She was much more vital on her guitar, with driving riffs and chords. Funnily enough, for an evening of unusual arrangements from all bands, she was at her best and in her element on more straightforward power pop tunes like So Long and Don't Live Just For The Week-end.

As an aside, The Donefors wryly noted that their next album will be called Lush Life Below The Poverty Line, a situation familiar to many musicians. Well, since I kept a curious eye on the merch and admission table for the night, I have a few ideas why that might be.

Mz Chawls If You're Good

Whenever I see Tanika Charles, usually at The Big Sound Motown Revue, she always looks like she just stepped out of the golden age of Jazz a la Ella Fitzgerald and Mae West. So Wednesday night, I finally got my chance to hear her sing her own material at The Rivoli as Tanika Charles and The Wonderfuls.

With cabaret seating, a band in dressy clothes, and Ms Charles in a tight, golden dress, it felt like being in an old Jazz club. Her music also had that retro soul feel, with some modern R'n'B touches, on older songs like Think of You and I Am Your Woman and upcoming releases Little Window and Soul Run. She shimmied and wailed to the delighted hoots of the crowd. Ms Charles also offered several funkified covers: Money (Pink Floyd), Black Velvet (Alanna Myles), Nude (Radio Head), and Valerie (Amy Winehouse). On the latter, someone from the audience took up her challenge to come up on stage. He got cheers when it turns out he had some nice pipes; but he got a bit carried away, missed her broad hints, and monopolized the rest of the song.

Her band played a tight set with two excellent back-up singers. It was a fun night of toe-tapping music. If it weren't for those tables and chairs, more people would have gotten up to dance. The evening was presented by Roy Thompson Hall in the words of the MC: "Up-and-coming musicians who we feel might play Massey Hall some day". Here's hoping she gets a much deserved wider exposure.

Fertile Soil

Dupont and Dovercourt is industrial bare-bones with a factory-turned-squat-loft, a security guard school, and a rail overpass. Last year, an Italian bistro has moved into the South-East corner, another in the Toronto's growing list of authentic pizzerias. Known mostly to locals, Picea has recently gotten a bigger profile by scoring in the Top Ten by local alt-weekly Now Toronto.

I've been meaning to go to this restaurant, as part of ongoing "research" into pizza joints, and Friday night was as good a time as any before the horde descends upon it. Bare brick walls, dark wood, deep red pillars, and colourful murals, Picea was going for that traditional trattoria feel. A large pizza oven dominated the room, it was actually bigger than the small kitchen in the back.

Feeling "earthy", I ordered a mushroom soup ($6) and a Bourbon pizza ($17). The soup promised shiitake, portobello, and button mushrooms with truffle cream. It was definitely earthy, with a touch of creamy dairy. But the finely grounded mushrooms lost the distinctive flavour and texture of each type of mushroom. A good appetizer but not as enticing as the description.

The pizza came to the table hot and sizzling with generous toppings of tomato sauce and mozzarella. The crust was thicker than the new pizzerias like Libretto, but this was an advantage if you have a hankering for the doughier Pizza Pizza but of better quality. Both the capers and anchovies gave burst of umami saltiness, perhaps a little too much near the end, and the chili added a hint of spiciness. This was a substantial and tasty dish.

Celestial Motions

Tuesday night, 2-man band Sunparlours Players started their March residency at the Dakota. I first heard their eclectic music at the Tranzac on New Year's Eve. But I was also interested in hearing opener Emilie Mover. I enjoyed her 2011 album Seems So Long but had never seen her live.

Armed with an acoustic guitar and a soft, weary, cooing, Peggy Lee-esque voice reminiscent of classic Jazz singers, she sang some older songs from her repertoire like Mountainside but gave us mostly tunes from the upcoming Mighty Time including Alex, Fishes, and True Love. All her songs shared a common aesthetic: a resigned, regretful look at failed love summed up best by Out Of Shape (a song she said was the most truthful she had written about relationships): "But in the end, they are your friends/Nothing less and nothing more/So there's no use gettin' bent out of shape". With a sound that harkened to old standards, it wasn't surprising that she also covered a few of them: Chove Chuva (Jorge Ben Jor), Only Him Or Me (Townes Van Zandt), and Don't Fence Me In (Cole Porter). That last number is currently featured in a car commercial.

It was a wonderful performance with quiet, subtle touches. I'm looking forward to getting Mighty Time in a month's time.

Looney Tunes

It was a Saturday night of Indie bands at the Horseshoe Tavern. I can't identify every genre and minute classification since I don't aspire to be a music critic. So there might be subtleties that I miss. All I know is when bands sound like pretty much like every other band, I don't get too excited.

Opener Brothers of Rock took to the stage wearing plaid shirts. This was no doubt their comfort zone as well the Can-con rock sound. Paint! played a lighter pop rock with lots of "Whoa, whoa" and "Yeah, yeah" refrains. It was the CD release party for The Cheap Speakers, who switched between bluesy and chunky rock.

Visiting band Loon Choir from Ottawa was the stand-out for me with some interesting songs. They were firmly in the anthemic white-man-shouting mold with some synth flavour, but with political leanings in numbers such as All Boats Don't Rise and Nowhere To Go.

Combination Fatter

New expansion

Banjara, an Indian restaurant at the edge of Christie Pits, has been around for years. I came to it early on just after it had moved into an old Coffee Tim (no mistake). I was surprised at the quality, as it seemed to be a re-incarnation of Mr Maharaja. The latter was found in a little strip of eateries on Balmuto behind the Uptown Theatre, a cinema that had its roof collapsed in the early aughts. It was also one of the only Indian restaurant I've been to that gave me and my friends the dreaded Delhi belly.

No such issues at Banjara, which makes consistently tasty Indian. I finally settled on the thaali as my go-to: a huge platter of Daal Curry (lentils), Aloo Gobi (potatoes and cauliflower), Veggie Pakoras, rice, rice pudding, naan and your choice of one other item on the menu. At $9.99-$11.95 (lunch prices), it's the best deal in town. The portions are so huge, it really is two meals.

Thaali platter

So every Sunday for lunch, I ordered the combination platter, made my way through all the menu items, and have leftovers for a weekday lunch. I finally stopped after I realized I was probably digging a (delicious) hole to an early grave of heart disease. I now limit myself to a visit perhaps every 8-10 weeks.

The restaurant has found great success and a second location opened a few years back at Yonge and Eglinton. On Saturday, for my occasional visit, I noticed that the Christie Pits location has also grown. They have lengthened out the patio and added a roof. The glass partitions inside the original space have also been removed. They even found a nook to add 2 more tables. With the expansion, the total capacity has doubled to about 80.

The thaali, this time with a lamb and spinach curry, was as filling and rich as always. And more than enough food to carry over to Monday.

Cat Scratch Fever

Friday night, I dropped by Academy of Lions at Ossington and Queen. This is an old-style CrossFit gym in the back with a cafe in the front. Tonight, the cafe has been transformed via workout benches, boxes, and wooden pews into a live music venue organized by Canadian Music Centre.

Given its expensive cost and its staid, somnolent halls, I'm of the opinion that classical music needs to be played more cheaply and in more welcoming venues. So a $10 door and in a room with baristas and faded street signs, that's perfect. The standing-room only crowd was far more diverse and eclectic than a typical classical recital. The night felt electric. Unfortunately, I was mostly disappointed with the show.

The string quartet Music In The Barns has apparently fully embraced the motto of "new music in new places" because all 3 pieces were aggressively contemporary: atonal chords, dissonant passages, and sometimes fingernail-down-the-blackboard screeches. The audience seemed baffled and stymied. This was not music to convince the curious young 20-something, more familiar with indie or pop, to listen to classical music. The grey-haired members didn't like the caterwauling either.

The piece that got the warmest response straddled the line between accessible music and interesting exploration. In Quartet for Heart and Breath (Rose Bolton), the musicians wore stethoscopes with the chest-piece placed over their heart. Using cues from the score, they played sweeping chords timed to their own inhalations and exhalations and pizzicato plucks in rhythm to their heartbeats. It was fun, musical, and enjoyable.

After a break with a stylized act by magician Harry Zimmerman, Tasseomancy took to the stage. I first heard their mythic folk at the Long Winter Showcase and liked their music. The remaining audience, still a healthy mixture of young and mature, was quite receptive to their melancholic, dreamy numbers drawn mostly from an upcoming sophomore album. Wryly acknowledging the heaviness of their music ("Here are 2 songs with some beat"), they ended their set with 2 punchier songs including the dance-y Jacob.

Speak-Easy

The Dakota Tavern has always cultivated an old-timey atmosphere with its posters and live music. But Thursday night, a time-traveler from the past wouldn't feel out of place. There were men in suits and fedoras and women in flouncy dresses, though they might look askanced at some of the more hirsute and tatttooed males.

To the Dixie-land rhythm of her song Too Crazy, Tia Brazda bounced up on stage in a polka-dot dress, with a beret perched jauntily over her scarlet hair. With the exception of the torchy Thief In The Night, she led the dancing crowd through energetic swing/early rock-and-roll original numbers such as Man Up, Cabin Fever, and Waste of Time. She covered an obscure Peggy Lee song called Yeah Yeah Yeah. Though the space was a bit tight, it didn't stop people from trying to dance The Twist, The Charleston, and other retro styles.