Starve A Fever

On Saturday, I headed over to Pauper's Pub with great anticipation for a Singer's Jazz Series show. The night was billed as "Songs Sung by Peggy Lee". The singer was one of my favourite local songstress, Emilie Mover. Her restrained voice seemed a perfect fit as an homage to Peggy Lee. In fact, she had put out in 2013 just such an album.

Tonight, she was part of a Jazz quartet comprising of her saxophonist dad Bob Mover, pianist Bernie Senensky, and bassist Artie Roth. Over two sets, she covered every song from the album including He's A Tramp, It's A Good Day, and Black Coffee. The band exchanged solos on almost every number, too. Normally, I'm not so fond of such "wankery" but I didn't mind tonight. For one thing, though the solos ran the gamut from wistful slow notes to energetically fast runs, they all held the shape of the song.

With live performances, there are hopefully interesting surprises. Tonight, it came in the form of banter between Emilie and her father. Whether it was some musical trivia (Peggy Lee was the first female singer-songwriter) or some anecdote about their life, it felt like sitting in on a family night. The Mover also opened and closed the night with two songs not on the tribute album: If I Should Lose You (dad) and When A Woman Loves A Man (daughter). The evening also made clear the musical influences that surface in Emilie's own songs.

Teen Dream

Friday night, I went to an early show at The Mod Club. I knew that Australian band San Cisco had a young fan-base. But unlike their previous Toronto stops, tonight was an all-ages show. So I stepped inside to rapturous screams from a packed house of teens.

Turns out it wasn't just Jordan and Scarlett from San Cisco that were inspiring all the vocal idolizing. There were also plenty of young fans for new Brooklyn outfit Mothxr, mostly for former Gossip Girl actor Penn Badgley who was the frontman. Their radio-friendly music: a little ballad, a bit of soul, a dash of falsetto singing, seemed to be in the mold of Bruno Mars et al.

San Cisco also seemed to be leaning that way for their most recent release. Covering the bulk of Gracetown (Magic, Mistakes, Skool), there were lots of catchy pop in their set. Even their older songs like Awkward and Fred Astaire had more groove. There was even some hip-hop(ish) feelings on Jealousy and Super Slow (when Scarlett stepped out from behind her drum-kit for a few verses). The set ended with Run, the sort of upbeat breezy pop that these Aussies excel at.

A Different Kind of Groove

I wasn't planning to go to any NXNE shows this year, but I was enticed to check out Adelaide Hall Friday night with an offer of free entry from sponsor Red Bull. The downside was that I had to be there early to guarantee my spot. Luckily, most of the bands playing were excellent.

First up was Zoo Owl. This young performer didn't really connect with the crowd. Wearing goggles covered by glowed lights, he fiddled and twisted his way through a set of effects and samples. Kudos to him for trying to engage the crowd. But this was too straight-forward to be interesting experimentation and too jarring to be simple EDM fun. Not a promising start to the evening.

Ava Luna from Brooklyn was much more successful with their eclectic music. Starting with Billz, their funky beat and falsetto singer made it seemed like it was going to be a set of neo-R&B. But they didn't stay in one genre, not even within one song. So we had punky Company, proggy Tenderize, spoken-wordesque Sears RoeBuck M&Ms, and soulful PRPL. But it all seemed to work thanks to good harmony and great rhythm and arrangements.

Diana was the most "conventional" of the bands. This Toronto band, comprising of members of other groups, mined synth-pop love songs. They gave us a few songs from their debut including Perpertual Surrender and Born Again. But it was mostly new tunes and a cover (A Walk Across the Rooftops). What made their set was the complexity of their music: Carmen-Elle's jangly guitar and soft voice, Adams' poly-rhythmic drumming, and Shabason's wall of distorted sax sounds. Top 40 radio don't sound like this.

Unsurprisingly, the place was packed for Warpaint. Last time through Toronto, this L.A. outfit played at the much larger Danforth Music Hall. So between first song Undertow and ending with Disco/Very, everyone was ready to sing and groove on every song. Indeed, underneath numbers like Love Is To Die and Elephants were propulsive bass lines and drums that drove the airy vocals forward. There wasn't much idle stage banter but singer Emily Kokal did mention that Warpaint hadn't play a live set in awhile. That only made the crowd even more vocally appreciative of their set.

I Ah Wanna

For lunch on Wednesday, I headed over to a strip mall at Birchmount and Huntingwood. There were a number of eating spots there that have good reviews. But I opted for Mexico Lindo. This tiny place had a few tables. It walls were adorned with strange pictures including The Mona Lisa composed of various animals.

I ordered the Mexican combo ($10.95). Things were looking promising with the taco appetizers. These freshly fried chips came still slightly hot. They were crunchy and went well with the slightly spicy salsa. The combo came out looking great, and had good balance: soft rice and gooey beans. The chicken enchilada was smothered with melted cheese. The beef chimichanga had a slight crispiness and oozed delicious ground beef. This was a great spot for simple but tasty fare.

Soporific Stunner

Saturday night, I was at The National Ballet for a remount of the 1972 classic Sleeping Beauty. It was  the first "Canadian" ballet showcasing Rudolf Nureyev. So I was fully prepared for lavish sets and costumes, as well full-on traditional classical ballet.

But honestly, the story was a bit of a snooze-fest. To start off, you couldn't help but notice that Princess Aurora (Sonia Rodriguez), a very definition of the 1%, would be endowed with magical gifts from 6 fairies. Talk about gilding the lily (or perhaps checking your privilege). On the other hand, you do feel for her that her primary worth in life is as a marriage prospect at the tender age of 16. Which leads to the second observation. The extended ballroom scene from Act I was essentially The Bachelorette, Medieval Edition.

Prince Florimund (Piotr Stanczyk) didn't fare better story-wise in Act II. Yet another royal prince whose mopey-ness was a short-hand for virtue. Because in contrast,  his peers were often out gleefully killing some animal. Finally, even for a fairy tale, they were padding it out as everything had wrapped up by the second intermission. So for Act III, you had more dancing fairies, a blue bird, and a pair comic-relief cats.

The individual choreography was excellent including the classic Rose Adagio and the Blue Bird's high-flying solo. The group numbers did drag on, mostly because the storyline was so thin. The imperious Carabosse had a bigger impact than the goody Lilac Fairy. You couldn't help but hope that she'd win somehow in the end. You get a bit dazzled by the good looks, but really it's a bit of a dullard underneath.

You Better Dance

On Friday night, I was dozing on and off all evening. But I finally roused myself enough to head to Kensington Market and drop by Handlebar. As a pun, outside of pinball machines, there was actually an old bike propped up on the wall.

boyBITCH opened the evening. The tall, bearded singer didn't play plaintive folk as his appearance may suggest. In fact, his contemporary may be Regina: dance tunes with queer sensibilities, yet with bitter lyrics. But whereas Regina is Gentleman Reg in full glam, boyBITCH didn't sex up his looks. But by the end of his set, he did manage to rouge up his nipples with lipstick and turned his shorts into a "mini-skirt" by turning it sideways and wearing only one leg. For a soft-spoken dude, he had quite a bold stage persona.

The dance trio Triple Gangers, after several years on the Toronto scene, finally have a debut album. Whether it was Beresford Boys or Avalanche, they were catchy and fun songs. It was a great set that ended with Coffee and Cream that mined that 80s vibe by include a few verses from Debbie Gibson's Only In My Dreams. Everyone enjoyed Gangers' synth-pop. But they really could have benefited from a beefy sound system to bring out those synth bass and dance beats.

Fields of Old

Thursday night at the Dakota, I went to an early show featuring 2 songwriters. The bar staff was easy-going with outside food. So I had brought in a Neapolitan pizza ($16) with Ontario prosciutto from Pizzeria Libretto. It was a bit messy to eat but a tasty dinner before the show.

Charlotte Cornfield opened the evening with wry songs about small town (Gananoque), session players (Side Man), and a disappointing love affair (Big Volcano, Small Town). I thought she had interesting observations and a joking wistfulness to her lyrics. But she should experiment more with either non-rhymes or unusual rhythm, because many of her verses ended a bit too on the nose. As such, to my ears there wasn't much to separate her from all the other indie acts.

Olivia Chaney is touring to promote her debut album The Longest River, though oddly she had no merchandise to sell. This record from the young folk singer is getting great reviews. Mediocre lyrics was not her problem as she drew from old classics such as Purcell's There's Not a Swain or the more modern False Bride. Her own verses such as King's Horses didn't quite reach those heights. Her guitar playing reflected her classical training with complex arrangements. Yet it can also be a weakness, at least for the casual modern ear, as the unusual structures lacked the simple cadence and beat of typical pop songs. Her training also meant that she couldn't abide out-of-tune instruments. So I wondered how she felt when she sat down at the bar's piano for a couple of tunes. Well, she fondly but exasperatingly decided to call it "The Henry Herbert".

There was a bit of serendipity to the evening. Chaney had wandered the neighbourhood earlier and passed by a clothes shop called Jonathan & Olivia. She didn't know any Jonathan. When she remarked how quiet the crowd was, a man shouted out from the back that we were all enjoying her music. When she asked for his name, it turned out to be Jonathan. Perhaps this little coincidence will make its way into a future song.

Hey Mama

For lunch on Thursday, I headed over to Mamajoun at Warden and Ellesmere. The name sounded odd, but it became clear when I came inside. Lahmacoun is a middle-eastern pizza-like dish with a thin crust and covered with ground beef. They had a variety of these "joun", as per the Armenian spelling, with different toppings. You added on some additional choices like olives or hot peppers, and they turn the whole thing into a wrap.

But I was more interested in their "Armenian pizza" so I got the cheese for $9. This turned out to be a thin-crust affair, although slightly thicker than a joun. I didn't love the crust, now that Toronto has a plethora of Neapolitan-style pizzerias with superior dough. But I did enjoy the toppings: generous amounts of goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and bursts of lime. It was an unusual but tasty pizza with definite "Middle Eastern" flavour. You can also buy other Middle Eastern foodstuff from the common such as pita to rarer fares.

Space Jam

Sunday night, I headed over to The Burdock for some live music. The new-ish space seemed like a good place for smaller, more intimate acts. And they were reasonably prompt with the scheduled times. Outside of a venerable joint like The Horseshoe, most venues are frustratingly lackadaisical. So thankfully, opener L Con was only 15 minutes "late" coming on.

I caught them quite awhile back. They've been getting some buzz lately but as they don't advertise much social media-wise, I never know when they'll be playing next. In fact, I came upon this gig by chance. Since then, lead Julie Conway seemed to have modified a case to hold her collection of vintage drum machine and effects so the stage was much less cluttered. Backed by synth and bass, she played what she jokingly called "another song about space". Well it was spacey, with sparse beats and harmony, but very enjoyable. It wasn't quite chill-out music but definitely groovy.

Isla Craig took that groove and turned it into a slow jam. Borrowing the drummer and keyboardist from Tasseomancy, helped on vocals by Ivy Mairi, Craig played long, sexy songs that Barry White would approve. The kind that gets your upper body to start undulating in time to the beat. It wasn't quite white girl reggae, even if she gave a shout-out "to my soul sisters" on the last song, but the music sat in the pocket all night. Both acts tonight played great music and deserve bigger recognition.

The Sizzler

On Sunday, I was wandering through Chinatown after doing groceries. My favourite Chinese burrito joint wasn't open. Near College and Spadina, I came upon Indian Sizzler Kebab. This South Asian place was a bit lonely amidst the Chinese eateries. I have passed by it numerous times and usually see an empty place. So I have been skeptical of its bona fides. But the promise of a cheap lunch led me inside.

As I waited for my Chicken byriani combo (salad + soft drink) at $6.99, a steady stream of South Asian customers came in for take-out. It may explain why the joint seemed usually empty. Certainly, the formica tables and TV showing an Indian superhero movie lacked ambience. Lunch didn't start out very promising. The salad was a pedestrian affair, enlivened only slightly by applying some spicy chutney. But the rice dish was much better. First of all, it was an enormous pile of rice. Another reason for take-out, this works better as two meals. Fragrant and spicy, I thought this was better than Dindigul but it may be because the drier style was more familiar to me. Unfortunately, because of the cheap price, you didn't get much chicken. And it was on the bone to boot. But what I had was tender and flavourful. Sizzler certainly qualifies as a good cheap-eats place and I'll have to return to try their kebabs.

Gave Up The Ghost

On Saturday, I went to Massey Hall for the final Live At Massey Hall series for the spring. Both bands came from the two ends of Canada: Lisa LeBlanc from New Brunswick and Spirit of the West from Vancouver.

LeBlanc grew up in a town of 51 people and she described her music as "folk-trash". Certainly, she won over the audience with her disarming "franglish" (which she noted sometimes become worse through brain farts) and her banjo-heavy, rock-out music. Her French songs were often feel-good bar songs (J'Pas un Cowboy) while her English tunes eschewed rhyme for quiet observation (The Waiting List). Looking at the people around her merch table afterwards, it seems like LeBlanc has a lot of new fans.

But the audience came for the venerable Spirit of The West. Their final song was the rousing classic Home for a Rest. I mention this because for me, this was the highlight of the evening. Kudos to the high-energy in the crowd who often stood up and danced. Massey Hall security had to get people out of the aisle several times. Yet this was the text-book definition of "dad-rock". They joked that their most recent song was 12 years old. They're not wrong. I didn't mind (too much) the banal lyrics but the dated arrangements held no interest for me. The sing-along tunes like The Old Sod were catchier but overall, I didn't have much fun with this set.

Light Me Up

On Friday, I attended a dance recital by the National Ballet entitled Ratmansky & Côté. The former is a celebrated choreographer and the latter is a principal dancer with the company who has been doing more choreography within the company and for other local dance troupes.

His work, entitled Being and Nothingness (inspired by the book) had the stage fully opened. What a strong impact. I had no idea so much of the stage is "backstage" and hidden during regular performances. A row of faceless men in suits sat at the back and watched couples danced our their struggles. The entire piece was set to music by Phillip Glass. It started with Greta Hodginson dancing out some existential crisis beneath the glow of a lightbulb. From there, various couples would dance playfully in their cozy apartment or fight over mysterious phone calls. It was surprising clear narrative for a "contemporary" piece.

In contrast, Ramatsky's Symphony #9 and Piano Concerto #1 (both set to Shostakovich) were more abstract. Despite using classical technique, it was cerebral in its movements and configurations. However, with dancers often gathering in tight group formation, there was something "Soviet-esque" about its sensibilities. The featured dancers, whether solo, in pairs, or in trios, often tried to fight their way out of these restrictions. But they often fell back into the group consensus as well. This push/pull theme ran throughout both pieces.

All 3 pieces had stark scenery: a window frame, a ringing telephone, geometric forms hanging from the rafters. This focused our attention on the music and movements. I enjoyed both Being and the Piano Concerto. There was something about the middle piece that did not engage me.

Le Clubbing

On Thursday, I headed over to Smiling Buddha, a small bar on College, with great anticipation. The Dø was on their North American tour. Over in Europe and especially France, this Franco-Finnish band sells out to thousands. Even here, they will be playing 2 sold-out nights in Montréal at a 500-person venue. But here in Toronto, Buddha can probably fit 100 people.

I don't know how Dan and Olivia of The Dø feel about it. They have played twice here before also in small venues. But it means that for myself and the packed crowd, it was an opportunity to be up close and personal. And their new album, full of synth beats and hooks, was perfect for this club-like atmosphere. So the band led us through almost every song on their 3rd release: Miracles (Back In Time), Keep Your Lips Sealed, Going Through Walls. Even old tunes like On My Shoulder and Slippery Slope got the dance treatment.

It was one of the best show I've been to. The crowd really got into it. With the small size and the dancing, everybody was drenched in sweat, band and audience alike. By the time they ended with Despair, Hangover, and Ecstasy, my clothes were soaked. Olivia enjoyed the enthusiasm and led us through several sing-alongs. One kept going and going as she urged the crowd to keep it up when the refrain would die down. She then grinned devilishly, "I hope you don't all hate me now". Dressed in a red one-piece, like a stylish Bruce Lee from Game of Death, Olivia kept the crowd's focus. When you look like a model complete with razor-sharp cheek bones, make chic kung-fu moves, and sing in a high, angelic alto, it'd be hard not to be the centre of attention.

Dancers All The Way Down

On Saturday, I went to the Harbourfront Theatre for Space Interrupted, a dance recital by Canadian Comtemporary Dance Theatre. Since this company specialized in dancers under 20 years old, 3 of the 4 pieces were done by young performers.

Technique-wise, I thought they were very accomplished. Overtures, the opening number, didn't do a great job of showcasing their skills. In tights and pseudo-tutus, it made them looked awkward and gawky. Anomykz was a better fit. This melding of street dance and contemporary by choreographer Ofilio Sinbadinho gave the troupe the chance to inhabit the frenzied, slightly menacing, choreography. Its tale of 4 young sisters trying to both fit in and find their own path held relevance for the members.

After intermission, Vectors had more contemporary movements in its exploration of lines whether it be arm movements or stage positions. The final piece, The Weather in the Room, were performed by older dancers including Artistic Director Deborah Lundmark and Robert Glumbek. This was perhaps the former's first performance in many years. Along with them were Kathleen Legassick and Emilio Colalillo, and Amanda Pye and Justin de Luna. Two talented young dancers Frances Samson and Nicholas Ruscica also joined them.

It started with Lundmark and Glumbek as an old couple returning home from a night out. Long familiar with each other's habits, they first descended into routine and then argument (perhaps also a routine). The other dancers played various iterations of their younger selves, both similar and different. It was interesting to watch this evolution both figuratively and literally. Legassick, Colalillo, Pye and Luna are in their prime and performed with both physicality and expressivity. Lundmark and Glumbek have slowed down, but channeled experience in their roles. It became clear that Samson and Ruscica were good (like the rest of the young troupe), but needed a few years to grow into their career. As such, this piece gave a nice illustration of the contrast between youthful vigour and late-life growth.