Kiss Me You Fool

I headed to the Horseshoe on Saturday for some good-time oldies. Opening act U.S. Girls was an odd but good fit. This solo singer accompanied herself through samples and loops. The samples were certainly retro, Meghan Remy actually fed the sampler snippets from cassettes and even a reel-to-reel live on stage. Yet her songs had that girl-group feel, aided by Remy's voice which often oscillated between pouty and pleading very much in the vein of 60s Motown.

Marcellus Wallace looked to continue the throw-back vibe with suits and even blocky retro mics. Songs like Ain't No Thang and Brand New Day were upbeat and new soul. But I couldn't get into their set. It was good they tried to engage the crowd with exhortations and over-the-top staging, and some in the crowd were obviously fans. But this sort of excitement has to grow organically and not harangued into existence. And their music didn't have much depth beneath the shine. So it felt like being subjected to a 40-minute sales pitch for the next Bruno Mars.

 Everyone was excited to see headliner LaLa Brooks, one of the singers from 60s girl-group The Crystals. It was mostly a young crowd, but I saw quite a few white-haired attendees. Her back-up tonight was local Motown band The Big Sound. Amazingly, all 20 of them fitted on that bar stage including strings, horns, and percussions. Brooks came on and launched into one of The Crystals' biggest hit, Then He Kissed Me. There were other Crystals' songs too including the closer Da Doo Ron Ron and disquieting He Hit Me. But Brooks also mined other vintage tunes such as Beast Of Burden and Be My Baby. With the audience so into her set, 67-year-young Brooks not only shimmied on stage (including a precursor move to twerking), but also waded into the crowd several times. During the encore, she seemed quite touch by the reaction and sang You Show Me Love (a song she wrote "for her fans") with tears in her eyes. The night ended with the high-tempo Tina Turner version of Proud Mary.

Room Enough

On Saturday, I went to an early show at the Dakota Tavern. The opening act was James Black (Finger Eleven). As he admitted, he was (and still is) space-obsessed. So his solo material drew on a lot of cosmological metaphors whether it was a doomed relationship between the sun and the moon (Moon's Dark Ways) or the weight of life's problems (Gravity). Normally a lead guitarist, he added a good punch of rhythm and riffs to his acoustic set. Given the sci-fi vibe, Black did a cover of the late 60s tune In The Year 2525 (Zager and Evans).

After a brief break, enormously bearded Ben Caplan bounded on stage. He has been selling out shows in Toronto and tonight was no different even if it was a last-minute booking. It was easy to see why: Caplan was engaging, quick witted, and full of stories. He endeared himself to the Eastern European contingent with a story about passing out on stage in Poland after one too many vodka shots. A Caplan audience is usually diverse, and tonight was even more so. There were hipsters in plaid, loud East Coasters, hot mamas, pierced dudes in Iron Maiden tees, and even a bridal group. All were more than willing to sing along at the top of their voice. This went great for songs like Conduit and Stranger. It also got annoying when some wouldn't zip it for quieter numbers like Seed of Love and Beautiful. Why go to a concert to only hear yourself sing? Caplan also showcased some new tunes including Belly Of The Worm and Under Control. It was a high-energy, raucous set perfectly suited for this subterranean venue.

Queen's College

For the longest time, two restaurants faced each other on the edge of Little Italy. Grappa is gone, replaced by trendy Bar Isabel. But Regina Trattoria is still around, and still pulling in families looking for some pasta or pizza. Friday evening, I checked out this old-fashioned spot near College and Shaw.

The restaurant was vintage Italian: white table linen; scenic paintings; plinking guitar playing O Sole Mio and Torna a Sorrento; and full-bellied old Italian men in the kitchen, behind the bar, and at your table. I ordered a house salad ($5.95) and a small Arrabiata ($15.95). Not much to say about the salad: it was a generous portion of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, other greens, and olives. I liked that it was less acidic and more salty and oil-rich.

The pizza that came out was bigger than other places. I actually thought they had misheard me and made a medium. The toppings were generous for a sit-down pizzeria (approaching Pizza Pizza levels) with fresh cherry tomatoes, salty pancetta, and crunchy onions. I would have liked more kick in the hot peppers though. I was a bit on the fence about the crust. The middle was soft and thick, perfect for biting and holding up the cheese and sauce. Sometimes you don't want super-thin, gourmet Neapolitan crusts. But it was too hard and crispy along the edge.

I'll have to come back and try the pasta. But Regina looked like a better candidate for a neighbourhood trat than Terrazza.

Welcome To The Jungle

Unpaid internships used to be the purview of rich kids who can afford it. Arranged by their parents, these positions (similar to an Ivy League education) were really meant to give these young elites the opportunity to build networks. But with the economy in shambles, it seems every business now offers them, without any of the wink-wink benefits or even the possibility of employment. And graduates, desperate for "experience", slave for no pay.

Writer Kat Sandler situated her new play Retreat in this environment. After a year of unpaid internships, 4 interns have been shipped off to a business retreat held at a former kids' summer camp. The play started with their simultaneous interviews, where each candidate tried to put a positive spin on every question. It was cringe-inducing to watch people abase themselves for no money. The humour came from their fumbling "yes-man" answers: factoid-gathering nerd Paul (Michael Musi), "Lean In" go-getter Nicole (Nicole Buscema), alpha bro Jordan (Justin Goodhand), and TV-obsessed wallflower Kira (Mara Zigler).

Flash forward a year, these employees now find themselves alone at camp under the cheerful but no-nonsense authority of camp counselor Candace (Kat Letwin). Each were given a life token (a small red ball) as well as a spirit animal name and were instructed to find a way to take them all over the next few days. Though it was left unsaid what the point was, as this contest seemed dubious as a team-building exercise, all came to the conclusion that a permanent job was on the line. Things got tense and intense. By the time the truth-or-dare session came, the situation was bad and getting worse. Then everything really went off the rails.

The packed Wednesday night crowd found many scenes hilarious. But I noticed there were two camps. Those in their 20s and 30s loved every moment. Anyone in their 40s or older were less enthused with the humour. Different experiences of work is my suspicion. Some scenes were a bit too "speechifying". For example, tying an old tragedy from the camp's past into a commentary about the current state of business/"playing the game" was heavy-handed. Overall the actors inhabited their roles well. A scene between Kira ("If this was the movie version ... you'd tried to seduce me") and Jordan ("I'm not seducing you because you're not pretty") was especially enjoyable with its screwball-esque feel.

Gone Fishin'

It has been both a cool summer and fall. So with some nice afternoon weather this week, I decided on Wednesday to seek out a location with a patio for dinner. The Fish Store on College was an ideal choice. The tiny eatery can fit 1 table inside, making for a cramp (and smelly) space in winter. But it does have a good-sized patio for the summer. With multiple fish fillet on ice, you can pick your choice of sandwich, tacos, or plate. I ordered the black cod with rice ($13.75) and avocado ($1.50).

The fish came out nicely grilled on a bed of warm brown rice. It had excellent flavour and was not over-cooked. There was an assortment of fresh vegetables. Tasty but I wished they were also grilled like the asparagus; this gave the latter a good smokiness and intensified the flavour. This evening, this spot seemed to be popular for family with kids for a quick take-out or a sit-down meal. But then it's a toss-up whether or not you get the well-behaved ones.

Music For The People

I headed to a couple of outdoors music festival on the week-end. On Saturday, after visiting Fort York, I headed north-west to the Junction Music Festival. The west-side of Dundas and Keele was blocked off for the main stage, leading to traffic snarl. But the east-side remained open with the smaller stages cordoned off on side streets.

I stopped at the "Pacific Avenue" stage around 2:30 p.m. to see The Two Koreas. The lead singer noted that this was the 2nd time in a decade that they've played in the sunshine. Certainly, their relentless punchy punk-pop would be more natural in some dark venue. Their audience for today included the youngish indie kids (the stage was sponsored by Wavelength) and the well-heeled mommy-and-me set. But given the neighbourly recognition for the band members (and their respective ages and growing waistlines), The Two Koreas wouldn't be too of out-of-place in the gentrified area. But they still played with fun and energy. No moshing from the crowd though, even if the singer did jump off the stage for the last song.

Meanwhile, Christie Pits Park was hosting the 3rd Bloor-Ossington Folk Festival. However, this didn't necessarily translate to roots and hippie music; the organizers meant folk in the sense of people. The festival has grown with arts and crafts vendors, a food station, and a beer tent and garden. The sky was threatening when duo AroarA came on at 7:30 pm. Though their drum machine and guitars may be too noisy for "folk music", the poetical lyrics taken from Alice Notley's In The Pines had lyricism and power. Their set was cut short when intense rain came down. Though some people stayed and encouraged them, with water falling on the equipment, Ariel Engle stopped half-way through #14 ("I was born to be a poet") and exclaimed: "I love to play music, guys, but I don't want to be electrocuted."

I returned on Sunday for Fiver and Julie Doiron and the Wrong Guys (members of Cancer Bat). With more rain coming, the performances were moved into the beer tent. But as it was composed of several canopies placed next to each other, the rain still poured down through the gaps to soak the ground. The damp atmosphere was perfect for Simone Schmidt's (Fiver) quiet story-telling (Oh Sienna, The Undertaker). Unless she was pulling our leg with her dead-pan intros, the latter must be the only known folk song about a WWE wrestler. It was getting too packed and wet so I left before Julie Doiron came on.

Walk The Line

I headed down to Fort York for the grand opening of the new $24M Visitor Centre. Surrounded by arterial roads and rail tracks, this historical site has been cut off from the city. Although in recent years, with a number of summer musical festivals taking place here, it has become more popular. In any case, it was hoped that this new addition would increase visits.

The new centre felt underwhelming given its cost. The outside was composed of large metal slabs, either to invoke fortress bunkers or the banks of the lake, now receded hundreds of metres away. It was interesting architecture, especially in contrast to the elevated Gardiner Express towering above it. But the inside felt empty, possibly because work is not fully completed. Unlike the fort which concentrated on the early military history of Toronto, the centre also included stories and collections from World War I. There was also room for contemporary art installations.

A number of free performances were happening both at the centre and within Fort York itself. The stage in front of the centre felt more dramatic, with the concrete columns and car lanes of the Gardiner as backdrop. I stayed for the 1st act, Indo-jazz outfit Autorickshaw. It was too bad that there weren't more people there to enjoy their complex but playful compositions including Trouble With Hari and Snake Charmer. Luckily given their shorter time slot, they limited the sometimes overly long solos to Kapi-Wallah. They also did unique covers of Big Yellow Taxi and Me and Julio Down By the School Yard.

Take It Easy

Before a full Saturday, I dropped by Easy Restaurant on College. This all-day breakfast joint stated it was "established since 1999", but certainly not at this location. It moved to the Crawford intersection a couple of years ago. The inside was a homage to older Hollywood flicks. So large movie posters of Easy Rider and Dirty Harry shared wall space with a rusted car hood.

There was a fairly large selection beyond the usual including steak and eggs and Mexican omelettes. I opted for brioche french toast ($11.95) with a side order of bacon ($2.95). The toast came sliced and piled in a tic-tac-toe layout with maple syrup and whipped cream. The sweetness went well with the salty bacon. And the thicker bread allowed the syrup to really soak in. It was a reasonable dish but I don't know if essentially 2 slices of bread was worth $14 (tax + tip).

Mex Flex

On Friday, I was in the mood for a meaty dinner. My thoughts turned to a couple of Hispanic restaurants in the Bloor and Ossington area. I decided to visit Mexitaco at Shaw. It has been a while since I have visited this casual diner. On entering, they have re-done the interior making it both smaller but cozier. The generic formica tables have been replaced with large round tables made from wine barrels. There seemed to be more Mexican decorations on the walls.

Given numerous choices from enchiladas to tacos, I ordered the carne tampiquena ($15.99). The plate that arrived had substantial food. A large slice of meat had to be folded in half. It wasn't the tenderest cut but was sufficiently thin to be grilled. The rice and beans made a nice foundation for the dish. I thought the guacamole was too runny, diluting its natural creaminess. The small mole enchiladas were almost dessert, adding sweetness to the entree. It was an unpretentious but satisfying meal.

The King Is (Mostly) Dead

Even the Globe and Mail food critic lamented the dearth of good Thai food in Toronto in his review of Pai (though it still received a good rating). After some live music at Yonge Dundas Square on Saturday, I decided to try Salad King. I realized this long-time Ryerson spot was unlikely to excel, even with its move and renovation a block north from its old location, but one can hope.

Though it was all trendy metal tables and glowing walls, this was essentially a cafeteria as you are sitting cheeks to jowl with many other people. The predominantly student population didn't seem to mind. The service was fast and efficient. My satay beef skewers ($5) and green curry ($9) came out in under 10 minutes. I will say that everything tasted fresh, no doubt because of the large volume of orders. The food itself was ... Thai-ish. The peanut sauce of the beef had peanuts. You could taste the coconut milk in the curry, though none of the other flavours were present. The sauce was little runny but still curry-like. But the overall impression was Thai food made mainstream bland.

The chilies setting was illustrative. The most a dish would have is 2 chilies and marked as quite spicy. However, you can specify a heat index of up to 20 chilies accompanied by increasingly breathless warnings on the menu. Well, my 10 chilies curry only had a slight kick, equivalent to medium spiciness elsewhere. Thai doesn't have to always mean fire-breathing hot, but it should be honest with regards to its origins.

Fresco In A Half Shell

All week I've been thinking about pizza. On Friday, it was time to indulge. But I decided to go for a calzone instead of a typical pie. Unfortunately, it's an entree that is usually offered in a take-out spot instead of a sit-down restaurant. So I headed to Fresca Pizza near College and Spadina.

You won't come here for the service. The taciturn pizza maker, from somewhere in Asia, will grunt at you. That's the extent of the conversation. But there was a parade of obvious regulars who came in for a slice or even a full order. I got the calzone primavera ($8). After my pizza pocket came out of the oven, it was clear what was the secret to the place. Everybody slathers on a generous dose of the garlic and onion oil on their order. Mine was done by the maker's wife, who was equally terse.

That hit of fragrant oil, along with the freshly baked dough, made for a tasty shell. Inside was a salty combination of cheese, black olives, capers, anchovies, and artichokes. A rather tasty mix but I would have like even more anchovies (probably too pricey an option). It was a step above this type of restaurant and quite easy on the wallet.

Great Scott!

Thursday night, I was at the Comedy Bar for a special show. For $5, about 40 people filled the cabaret room to see Scott Thompson (Kids In The Hall) try out new material for his stand-up show called Trigger Warning. Any worries that it might be hit-and-miss or rough were allayed since Thompson is a veteran performer.

Without giving too much away, all the material was a recounting (perhaps with some slight exaggeration for effect) of various moments in Thompson's life. Even the choice of his name, apparently there are several Scott Thompsons in show business, was fodder for several hilarious jokes. What made this sort of observational humour effective, since most stand-ups also do this, was the sense that these stories were personally revelatory. So instead of some shallow anecdote told in service of a punch line, it was like listening to particularly humorous friend (without much boundaries) tell you what's been going on in his life.

So were there trigger warnings? Given his persona as a rather outspoken gay man, there were certainly many sex-related stories. The "offensive" statements were usually quick Buddy Cole-esque one-off, designed to get a quick he-didn't-just-say-that groan (as previously stated: "no boundaries") instead of some elaborate rant calculated to shock people or push buttons. Thompson was no white comedian delivering "truth bombs" and "telling it like it is".

I found the show funny throughout and so did most people. But I noticed that for the younger 20-something in the crowd, there were more quiet stretches or lulls. Perhaps the wild, hedonistic antics of a 52-year-old gay man were harder to grok for the carefully-raised Millennial set; at one point, Thompson himself seemed surprised that there were not more cheers for his exhortation for a "wild period" in your life.

Lee Way

The last few times 60s soul singer Lee Fields came through Toronto, he played at bigger venues like The Great Hall and Opera House. Tuesday night, he showcased his new album at the historic but smaller Horseshoe Tavern. But the packed venue was perfect for his brand of sweaty love songs.

The opener was an instrumental band from Brooklyn called Ikebe Shakedown. Unsurprisingly, most of them were also Fields' backing band The Expressions. They played tight funk on songs titled The Offering and No Answer. Though they sometimes slowed down into sexier grooves, it was mostly music to dance to.

Fields is a consummate performer. Tonight, he came onstage dressed in a glowing silver men's suit. Though the biggest cheers were for older material, there were just a handful to start: opening number My World and swaggering I Still Got It. The bulk of his set were new songs. With such a veteran, it was easy to sell them live though most were not particularly memorable. But there were 2 standouts: the almost gospel Talk To Somebody and the snakey Don't Walk. The crowd-pleasing Ladies kept the shout-outs and screams going. Fields ended his set to loud approval with Money Is King and Faithful Man. Both of which covered its own kind of sinfulness. Fields commanded the stage with a voice that crooned, soared, screamed, and pleaded. He was animated but saved some James Brown-esque moves as punctuation for the big moments. It was all very slick, this man has been doing this a long time, but still thrilling.

We So Fancy

Some street festivals fizzle out after a few years, but some pretty much die on the vine. The Bloorcourt Festival is the latter. Renamed the Bloorcourt Arts and Craft Fair, Bloor St. is still closed between Dufferin and Christie. There are vendors and some local restaurants do set up a patio, but in general only a trickle of visitors come by.

It was no different on Saturday, exarcerbated by cool weather and an overcast sky. But I did stop by to try the 2nd location of Fancy Franks at Delaware. It was located next to an immensely popular Portuguese chicken rotisserie, recently renamed to a more English-friendly The Rooster. This time, I wanted to stick to a classic set-up and not their various concoctions. Along with a spicy sausage ($5.25), I got for a dessert a half-dozen mini doughnuts ($2.50). I garnished the dog with basic condiments, hot peppers, and a pickle. The toasted bun held nicely the juicy sausage and its add-ons. The only downer was that it didn't pack much of a kick. The doughnuts came fresh out of the fryer, coated with cinnamon sugar. It was a great hit of greasy dough and sweetness.

There wasn't much entertainment except various patios blasting music. There was a Jazz trio playing next to Long and McQuade. Appropriate to the neighbourhood, they played a version of Manhã de Carnaval. There was a band line-up at Saving Gigi, the defacto hub for hipster/indie events (such as the upcoming Bloor Ossington Folk Festival). But there was lots going-on at Christie Pits Park. This year, an Ethiopian festival was taking place at the same time. Unlike the moribund Fair, this gathering was hopping: packed with people, music, and mouth-watering BBQ smoke.

Buy'N'Sell

Having won two tickets to Riot Fest, I headed north to Downsview Park early on Saturday. The trip wasn't too bad via subway and bus. The 101 heading straight through the park was packed. I can't imagine how busy it will get later in the day. On my way back, I walked instead over to the main road on Sheppard. There was better transit options there with 3 bus routes passing by that stop.

After I picked up my tickets (one of probably ten thousand free give-aways), I headed over to the Merchants' Market. I have read about this ethnic bazaar located on this site and it lived up to its great reputation. True, the food court wasn't quite as eye-popping as I had hoped, but instead of fast food chains you did have your choice of Jamaican, Filipino, and other immigrant food. I had a medium soursop smoothie ($4) sweetened with sugarcane from Juicy Hut to go with a lunch combo of Jamaican rice and peas, oxtail, and ackee ($9) from Mama Original. If I had known there were other food vendors without the main area (Filipino waffles!), I would have saved some room.

The stalls had everything imaginable: CDs, cell phones, furniture, jewelry, kitchen stuff. In fact, with so many vendors, I have to wonder how anyone can make a profit. But that's not all. There was a large, open-air fruit and vegetable market filled with cheap greens. If only there was such an eclectic space downtown. It was also nice that the often-touted 42% visible minority status of Toronto was reflected in the diversity here unlike most events I have attended.

As I made my way back to the music festival, the line-up was already a thousand strong. That was only the "pre-line" where you wait your turn to get into another line for the actual entry. Without a must-see act (from my point-of-view), I decided to exchange my tickets to a "middle-man" for an honorarium and headed home. Thereby learning a nifty fact. I have always thought that the absolute cheapest you could get from these independent sellers was a mark-up on the lowest price. But if they are re-selling free/contest tickets, then you could get tickets "below cost" (as they are wont to cry out). That is, they would sell for less than the $179 official price. And I'm certain even cheaper than the $99 early bird option which sold out weeks ago. Something to keep in mind for the next big show.

Le Crooner

Friday night, I once again headed down to the TIFF festival for some more free music. The line-up seemed to be eclectic and fun tonight. First up was Bobby Bazini from Montreal. The tall and lanky singer played against type: perhaps he will sing country or some top-40 pop? No, Bazini channelled 70s soul through Joe Cocker. So whether it was Cold, Cold Heart or Cherish Our Love, it was funky music, backed by two doo-wop-esque singers, and front and centred was his singing: a combination of emotional growls, falsetto cries, and soulful pleas. Bubble Gum, his new radio single from the 2nd album got the most cheers from the fans lined up at the front. It was no surprised that he covered another smooth Bobby: Ain't No Love In The Heart of the City (Bobby Bland).

The set was ending on a high note with an ever-growing crowd when the sky opened up. Bazini, and some from the crowd, gamely tried to finished. But Wish You Were Here had to end prematurely as the rain, thunder, and lightning were really gaining strength. With festival-goers scurrying every which way, the stage was shut down for the night. It was a shame because I was looking forward to chill synth-pop (Diana) and hip-hop jazz (BADBADNOTGOOD).

Star Gazing

This year, TIFF has decided to close down King St. for the 1st 4 days. This has been a controversial decision since this street sees heavy use during rush hour from both cars and public transit. But the pedestrians strolling along or waiting around to see celebrities in front of the Princess Of Wales Theatre were having a good time. The restaurants also took advantage to expand their patio space, which were filled up with festival goers. Too bad they all serve middling food.

But Thursday night, I wasn't there for movies or munchies. I dropped by the open-air stage for some music. First up was the chameleon Maylee Todd. Tonight, Todd and her dancers were dressed in short black outfit with multi-coloured foam strings and bangles. Her brand of neo-soul gradually drew a crowd as they listened to Baby's Got It, Hieroglyphics, and I Tried. Even the laid-back or schmoozing boozers in the beer section on the side got into the groove. She even got a Soul Train started, though perhaps a bit more reticent than usual.

The night also had on the bill the energetic Rich Aucoin and cerebral guitarist Adrian X. But unfortunately I could not stick around for these performers.

Pepsi Blue

Pepsi was offering a series of free concert called Pepsi Pop-up inside the "world's largest" Pepsi bottle so I went down Wednesday night for the first show. It turned out to be a giant inflatable Pepsi bottle set up in a parking lot on Richmond St. Appropriately enough, free Pepsi bottles were also handed out.

The opener was The Meligrove Band. According to their status updates, they haven't played in 2 years. But there were a number of fans, as well as curious listeners, here for their show. This 4-piece had a dual personality. With songs sung by the drummer such as Kingfisher, they were noisy and punk-ish, with bits of cerebral prog-rock guitar riffs thrown in. When the lead singer took his turn, tunes like Ages & Stages and Our Love Will Make The World Go Round were catchier pop.

It was amazing that 8-piece Dwayne Gretzky were able to cram themselves on the small stage. Tonight, they resisted doing more "obscure" covers of The Band or Steely Dan and stuck to crowd-pleasing numbers such as Sledgehammer, Dancing In The Dark, and You Can't Hurry Love. Occasional stand-in guitarist Champagne James Robertson (currently touring with Lindi Ortega) electrified the set with his characteristic twangy solos. Given their young-ish fanbase (in addition to the old-timers), I wish they added more 90s tunes.

It was a fun night but the relentless branding was weird. It wasn't just the free drinks and the workers wearing company logos. The hyping of the event seemed over-the-top: "First time in Canada", "A huge successful at Glastonbury", "I say Pepsi, you say Pop-up ... Pepsi", "Are you having a good time? Scream!" It didn't seem to really to connect with the crowd, either because of their typical Torontonian reserve or their low-key "indie" attitude.