Looking Back

As the years go by, it's harder to reconnect with old friends from out of town. On Wednesday, I went to NeXT in Stittsville for dinner with only 2. The rest were away for the holidays, busy with family, or incommunicado. This venue used to be an event centre for weddings and so on. The new owner still does these catering events but have also create a space for a sit-down restaurant. There are no places in downtown Toronto that could be this large or have so many parking spots.

NeXT does casual dining with a more refined palate. Tonight we tried Yukon fries ($8), Grinch's gobbler ($19), Crispy chicken ($25), Berkshire pork belly ($28), lamb shank ($33), and BC ling cod ($37). It was all tasty but rather heavy in the aggregate.

It's interesting that the chef Mark Blackie is cited in articles as being a hot young chef in culinary competitions circa 2006. Because I ate like this a decade ago: truffle mayo for the fries, Asian-inspired sambal sauce on the chicken, and so on. Maybe there are still restaurants that still do this in Toronto. I can't think of any and I certainly don't eat at them. Which is to say NeXT feels like someone staying in their comfort zone.

I can understand that. I'm all about routines and regularity in my daily life. But as 2017 winds down, I think 2018 should be different. Life-changing 180 degree turns aren't me. But developing new patterns, updating some familiar ones, and discarding out-dated cruft, gradual change is probably more beneficial than staying the same.

Yuletide Carols

On Saturday I was at The Burdock for The O'Pears Christmas show. The opener was a trio fronted by Danielle Knibbe. Although her songs were typical love songs, she was a charming performer with some good lyrical instincts. Her song Absence of You had a nice what-if, Sliding Doors, vibe. In keeping with tonight's theme, they ended with a cover of Gordon Lightfoot's (by way of Sarah McLachlan) Song for a Winter's Night.

Tonight, although they sang as a trio, The O'Pears were joined by a full band for a number of songs. They concentrated on songs that had a winter or Holiday vibe. So from their own repertoire they chose the quieter numbers like Lose The Sun and Dream About You. They also lent their beautiful, intricate harmonies to covers like Joni Mitchell's River. For the grand finale, both bands joined together with the audience for Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.

Si Si

Little Sito is a new dining spot in the Bloor and Ossington area. With its wood panels, indoor plants, and sliding garage door, it resembles other trendy restaurant/bistro in Toronto. But with a focus on Lebanese food, it looks to be different than the rest. Along to Tavoos and other sit-down Middle-East spots, it demonstrates that there's more than shawarma and pita wraps to this region's cuisine.

However, I was here for a Saturday brunch specifically for 1 dish: shakshuka. Unlike the Egyptian variant at Maha's, which is closer to scrambled eggs, the Lebanese version is closer to a stew. So the shallow bowl that greeted me was warm and richly fragrant with tomato, eggplant, and other herbs. The dish was $15 but I added some lamb. You don't get a lot (it's only an extra $2), but the few portions added a nice smoky flavour. Along with some warm pita, a soft poached egg, and sharp feta, this was a tasty entrée for a cool December morning.

Satan's Little Helper

About 2 hours later on Thursday, I was back at the Burdock for the late show. The venue was already full for opener Steven Lambke. My guess was that there were a lot of Burning Hell's fans/friends but also some The Constantines aficionados. Though he was later joined by his band, Lambke's solo material was more introspective overall. But there were hints of some Constantines bombast in a few of the tunes. I quite enjoyed the lyricism of his songs, but the frequent off-key vocals was surprising.

Knowing how rowdy, or at least rambunctious, a Burning Hell show usually is, I moved from the back to the front and side just before their set. A good thing too, as several people sitting in the middle rows suddenly found their views blocked off as a large mass pushed themselves forward right up to the stage when the band started playing. Though mostly known for intricate word-play from lead singer Mathias Korn, their music can also be quite catchy and danceable. So I was curious to see if that playful spirit could be maintained now that they were a trio instead of a 5-piece. Well, they still have it in spades such as when they snuck a Rage Against The Machine bridge into their song Barbarians. No one was surprised that Darren Browne can also shred the bouzouki and lay down bass grooves. But the fact that Ariel Sharratt, still doing harmony and playing her bass clarinet, can play a mean drum in the latter half of their set was an eye-opener.

 So the 76th show of their current 78 show tours was the same as their previous visits to Toronto: fun, witty, and had plenty of opportunities for sing-alongs.

Measure For Measure

Thursday night, I was at the Burdock for an early show with Autorickshaw, an Indian-Jazz fusion trio composed of Suba Sankaran (vocals), Dylan Bell (bass, vocals), and Ed Hanley (tabla). Originally a going-away show before their tour of India, it became a vinyl release party for their latest album Meter.

This intimate venue was perfect for the kind of close listening this trio deserves. Let's not debate about typical technical chops between musical genres. But it is undeniable that the virtuosity and skill of these performers are quite high. Suba, with her perfect pitch, transitioned seamlessly between precise singing, Jazz scats, and South Asian ragas. Bell was on the right side of bass-playing wankery (no wonder he also plays in a The Police tribute band), and added some great vocals and beat-boxing. Hanley anchored every song with her intricate hand drumming.

With 15 years of playing and 5 albums, Autorickshaw's set spanned their whole repertoire instead of just concentrating on their latest release. They also had plenty of stories tied to the songs, and even small lessons about various musical techniques and traditions.

Groove Is In The Heart

A reasonably full crowd was out at The Baby G on a Thursday night. Opener Slo Pitch Sounds was a turn-tablist who occasionally did scratching, but primarily built luxuriant soundscapes from samples. Now and then he was joined on stage by a pop-and-locker for some choreography.

The feel-good vibe kept going with Isla Craig. It's been a while since I've heard this singer live. Her and her full band continues to refine Craig's combination of slightly 60s hippie lyrics/feel with a pulsing groove. You wouldn't dance to it, but there's a lot of head nods and body sways. I'm still waiting for that album drop she's been promising for quite some time.

The night ended with the warm blanket that is a typical Luka's set. On his 3rd album, this crooner expanded his repertoire of (almost too) earnest love songs. Surprisingly there were 2 numbers where his band, especially drummer Evan Cartwright, let loose with some rocking improv. But for Luka, it was usually about groovy numbers full of harmony and build like Love is The Eternal Weight and My Heart Is Full. These are songs you play to try and win over that special someone.

The Big 4-0

Coinciding with her 40th birthday, singer Genevieve Marentette has commandeered Jazz club The Reservoir Lounge for her 2nd fund-raiser on Sunday night. Once again, an all-female house band, spontaneously named The Health Gap Band, kept things tight and hopping. It was an evening of great discovery for me. Marentette's female friends, professional singers one and all, could blow away all those mopey indie/alternative boys and most of the mainstream pop singers without even trying.

The first set was all originals while the second had jazz and soul standards. There were bluesy grit (Heather Luckhart, Irene Torres), 60s throwback (Tia Brazda, Elise Legrow), pure tones (Jocelyn Barth, Jessica Lalonde), brassy musical theatre (June Garber, Barbara Lee), and soulful R&B (Lydia Persaud, Dione Taylor). With these singers and a whole bunch more, not only were the main vocals wonderful, but the impromptu backup harmonies (with whomever wanted to jump in for a particular song) were sweet and rich. As for the birthday girl, Marentette had quite a set of pipes herself. And probably inherited from her mother, as the older version also came on stage a few times to help out.

Special Alert

On Friday, I went to The Great Hall for a sold-out show. Opener Bernice plays odd lightly improvised folk-pop songs that seems meandering. Tonight the crowd was generous in their appreciation of the singer's vivid imagery. Head-liner The Weather Station was releasing their epynomous album (though not their first) this evening.

Tamara Lindeman has been getting great reviews, and not just for her latest effort, for her dense lyrics and songcraft. The last time she played The Great Hall she had a good crowd. But tonight the audience was early and filled up to the rafters. So obviously she's building a fanbase. But if there were some newbies, her new songs should also win them over. With a harder rocker edge, the band sounded great live. Lindeman even managed some effect-drenched guitar sounds, even if her normal specialty is intricate finger picking. But it was her solo numbers that highlighted her music. The entire venue held its breath as her clean, pure voice soared over delicate chords with sharply observed vignettes. It was a pleasure to listen to such fully conceived songs.

Tell and Penner

Friday night, I headed over to Adelaide Hall to see Fred Penner. Almost exactly 5 years ago, I saw this children's entertainer at The Garrison at one of the best live shows I've been to. Since then, Penner has been playing to grown-ups now and then including at this years Canadian Music Week, but I have been missing out on these shows.

Unfortunately, tonight didn't reach the same heights, but not because of the performer. The promoter scheduled this show in Club Land so there was a much smaller crowd. Those that showed up were drunker and more boorish, though eventually the love for Penner won through. What a shame since tonight Penner had quite a good backing band with a lot of technical chops, even some rocking solos. A good chunk of his set was devoted to his new album Hear The Music. There was also a lot of classics including Sandwiches and The Cat Came Back. Penner even did an impromptu request when someone shouted for Goblins. And though it might have been an adult show in a licensed venue, Penner's stage banter was as warm and positive as if he sang in front of little kids. It was hard to decide which was larger and more grand, his voice or his beard.

Funk Punk

I was at the Garrison Thursday night to see some fusion music. That may sound a big strange but an is a succint description of co-headliners Duchess Says and Yamatanka//Sonic Titan. Duchess Says came on first, despite having the larger fan-base, probably because Titan's stage set-up is quite involved.

Duchess Says combines punk with synth and even some pseudo-scatting. There was plenty of furious guitars, drums, and ragged singing but since they were laid over a foundation of synth chords and effects there was a fun danceability to their songs. This was emphasized by the singer Annie-Claude Deschênes who often went into the crowd, à la Rich Aucoin, to engage them with dancing, singing, and various props including inflatable musical instruments.

Yamatanka melds metal, Eastern concepts, and Indigenous singing and hand drumming. They exploded onto the scene and have been Polaris nominated twice. Tonight's set was similar to recent ones where the new material emphasized the more metal aspects. This shift occurred after one of the founders/singer left. Though their shows are still compelling, it's time for me to acknowledge that, similar to Hooded Fang, their sound has diverged from their origin. Which is to say, thanks for the great memories and I hope they continue to have success, but these are no longer "my bands".

Safe and Sound

On Sunday, I headed over to The Great Hall to see Maylee Todd's Virtual Womb show. Since there was quite the line-up at the last incarnation, I was there right at the "door opens" time. Unfortunately, we were still packed cheek to jowl in the stairwell as the organizers didn't open until 20 minutes later. The show's conceit is that the hall is a womb, which you enter through a giant fabric vulva (designed by Roxane Ignatius). Inside, you are encouraged to lie down on the floor with any blankets you have brought while the thump-thump of a heartbeat played in the background, and psychedelic projections cycled on the ceiling and walls.

You could stay that way for the entire show or you could sit up and experience Maylee Todd, a string section, backup singers, and dancers work their way through Todd's repertoire. The set was an equal mix of new songs from her album release and old songs drastically reworked. Somehow, the show straddled both soothing and funky.

It was, both the show and the new releases, a therapy session for Todd. It became clear through her stories that she has been doing some exploration of meditation and mindfulness and psychological self-analysis. She has chosen to share these discoveries, sometimes painful or embarrassing, with her fans/friends through music. It was a wonderful and elaborate show. I don't know if Todd even broke even on ticket sales, given how many people were obviously involved, but I'm glad she made it.

Beach Blonde Baby

Saturday I experienced a good yet bad concert at The Velvet Underground. The good: lots of high-energy pop songs and an enthusiastic crowd. The bad: well, there were several lows. But first, some background. There is an singer called Poppy who is internet-famous. Her early songs such as Lowlife may position her as just one more popstar wannabe. But there was enough self-aware irony in a tune like Money to qualify as a guilty pleasure.

Then she was dropped by her label (or not), and started posting a series of "weird" videos and songs which may be a meta-commentary on current pop culture, social media, etc. Her fans pretended that there are hidden messages within these videos, perhaps even cult-like instructions. This is her first tour, and along with the catchy tunes, there were also video projections, zany dancers, chants (and drinking mystery kool-aid), and a question of whether or not Poppy is a robot or a brain-washed puppet inducting her fans into a cult.

All of which was on full-display tonight for people in the front. For the people in the back, tiny glimpses were all we saw. I arrived 30 minutes after doors (I thought to avoid the early rush of teens) under a pouring rain. But I ended up waiting in a long line that took 40 minutes to clear. It turned out there was, for some reason, more security at this show than any other I've been to. There were 3 different checkpoints! No wonder we crawled along.

This was strange because this venue is a tiny dump, and just barely above a dive bar. In any case, this also meant that the small stage is maybe 2 feet higher than the floor. So with the crush of people, you couldn't see much unless you were within the first 5 feet. Should Poppy have played in a better venue? Or as one concert-goer declared: it was all a ruse by the booker to hype the show. Apparently, this sold-out concert had tickets on Stubhub for $5.

Her songs are fun enough to make the concert enjoyable. But as for the rest: shitty promoter, dumpy club venue, and humorless security; they've always been around but there's no way to enjoy them, even ironically.

Less Is More

Because of the show Triptyche at the Bluma Appel Theatre, I didn't arrive at Less Bar on Bloor until just past 10:30 on Thursday. So I missed Kashka doing songs from her new album. That's a shame because this synth-folk singer doesn't do full-band sets too often. Hopefully, in the new year, I can catch her new all-women set-up.

I did catch Lydia Johnson (Lizzie Lyon). This young singer was in the R&B mold. Her vocals have that urban pop cadence. I'm too old to find romantic dramas (cute-meet, meltdown, and so on) relevant but her fans/friends loved it.

As for the new venue, it has been in the local indie news. Partly because other live venues are closing, partly because of its stated goals of high-lighting female and gender-fluid artists. The name is apt because Less Bar is quite a small space. It's hard to see it having much impact for live shows, the legal capacity is probably 20 people. But there's a chance it could grow into a beloved space for intimate concerts and musician hang-out like the recently departed Holy Oak.

Running Down a Dream

Thursday night, I went to the Bluma Appel Theatre to see triptyche from Les 7 doigts. This Montréal circus company has carved a niche as being a smaller, artier Cirque du Soleil. Their last show in Toronto, Cuisine and Confessions, played at the Mirvish-owned Princess of Wales Theatre. This time round, they double-downed on their arty pretensions by commissioning actual dance choreographers for their 3 works.

Marie Chouinard has videos on youtube where commenters often quipped about stumbling on the "weird side of youtube". This has to do with her incorporation of crutches and other mobility devices into her work. So in anne & samuel, a dancer and a hand balancer found themselves interacting with each other guided by their dependence on crutches. There was something weirdly animalistic about their movement, like human-giraffe hybrids. This obviously appealed more to the dancers in the crowd.

Victor Quijada stayed more on the circus performance side with variations 9.81. With the standard handstand, bane of beginner gymnasts and yogis, as the simplest form, the balancers explored alone and together all the advanced variations of inversion work. In their movement and transitions on the ground, there was a hint of the hip-hop asthetic that are usually present in Quijada's troupe RUBBERBANDance Group.

The last piece, nocturnes, occupied a happy medium for me. But from other reviews, it seemed both dance critics and aerialists found it to be overly long but for different reasons. Starting with a woman (or perhaps a young teen girl) settling into bed, the work spun off into a fantastic dreamscape of acrobats and fish-men flying through the air. At one point, the bed rose on ropes and flew around the stage like the world's most comfortable swing. There were a few flaws for me. First, the transition from dance to circus at various points was sometimes clunky. Second, each dance work has its own unique vocabulary. So like all languages, phrases and sayings should be repeated to become familiar, and larger themes should emerge: for examination, re-iteration, re-interpretation. The need to cram so much dance and performance arts into nocturnes left little room for this sort of introspection and recall. For example, insteadof  one long section of unicycling with ever more astounding tricks, use it more judiciously sprinkled throughout the piece.

ASMR

On Monday, I was at The Burdock for a show. A bit early in the week, but The Magic, manned by two brothers, don't play in Toronto too often. It became an evening of intense experience. First up was Joyful Joyful who combined gospel and spiritual lyrics with a shoe-gaze soundscapes of repeating and echoing samples. Is drone-folk a genre? During one of the numbers, the overlapping frequencies generated literal shivering chills in my back. I sat there frozen while having a physical reaction to the music. It was deeply unpleasant, though not because the song was bad, and I'm not sure I want to experience that again.

The Magic is like Bahamas times two. They mined the same retro-funk sound complete with male falsetto singing. The audience was ripe to boogie with songs like If I Were U. They also debut new unrecorded songs such as When You Leave. This number was apparently a failed attempt to sell a pop song to another artist. But given its odd melodic and time changes, it would have been too weird for Top 40 radio. These brothers make fun, danceable music. I'm set to enjoy the rest of the week, even if real-life isn't as funky as their songs.

Hurricane Help

It was a crisp Thursday night as I headed to The Monarch Tavern for a relief concert in support of Mexico and Puerto Rico. First up was a solo set by folk-pop singer Kashka. Armed with various synth equipment and her guitar, she gave us a taste of the new songs on her latest album. I'd like to hear these new numbers with a full-band.

Next up was a trio named Rapport. So this is where Maddie Wilde (formerly of Moon King) has been lately. Their set sounds like Alvvays in the 80s, a slightly garage-band sound combined with a Miami Vice/Night Court vibe. Quite fun and danceable. The dancing continued with Regina Gently. I haven't seen this high-energy singer in a while. Her set continues to combine frenetic choreography, dance beats, and snarky lyrics. The shimmery black outfits from the other women made sense as they joined her briefly as backup dancers.

I wanted to stay for the headliner/organizer Lolaa. But like most Wavelength shows, this one was running late. I'll catch this sister-act melding of dance/rock and Latin rhythm some other time.

The Future Is Feverish

Saturday night, I attended this year's dance recital from proartedanza. This contemporary dance company often combines classical ballet with modern dance. The first piece tonight was titled Future Perfect Continuous. At the end, we realized that the piece's text came from a millennial who was terrified of future climate change, ashamed of her inaction and wasteful Western lifestyle, and unsure about what she should do. Throughout the piece, these words were broken up into fragments and incorporated into the movement and speech of the dancers. This was the most successful work for me.

The second piece, entitled adjusted surrender, highlighted two older dancers who, by this time in most careers, would have hung up their shoes. Though physical virtuosity was behind them, there was still grace and gravitas in their movement. Appropriately enough, the piece was about a married couple who were looking back on their various life decisions with fondness, regret, or bitterness.

The last piece Op Sha! didn't work for me. Supposedly about life events like birthdays and weddings while incorporating Eastern European folk dance movement, the work actually seemed too abstract. This isn't usually a problem with modern dance but with music provided by Lemon Bucket Orkestra which was so rooted in a real culture (Balkan/Klezmer), it was hard to reconcile that music with mostly non-narrative choreography. Actually, I didn't much like the music either. It was repetitive and aggressive, which might make for a great concert to dance at, but not at a recital to sit through. So overall, I think this was their weakest recital in recent years.

Tiny Tunes

On Thursday, I was at The Gladstone Hotel's Melody Bar for the second installment of Venusfest, a new concert series that aims to highlight female-identified artists. The inaugural show was an all-day event that I was unabled to attend. Tonight was a smaller affair with two acts. First up was Dorothea Paas, accompanied by a full band including Kritty Uranowski (Patti Cake). They constructed fuzzy pop soundscapes that surged and ebbed.

Headliner was sister-duo Tasseomancy. In some ways, they could be the musician's musicians as there were several singers in the audience. It was easy to see why. Their set, exuding a warm living-room feel, are comprised of elliptical songs with lyrics dense in literary references and imagery. This is not to say that their music isn't also full of melodic hooks and harmonies. But a Tasseomancy show is for impressing that boho girl with the vintage dress who carries a journal planner.

Girl Band

Friday night, I was at The Tranzac for a great show. It's been awhile since I've been to this venue and they've done a bit of remodeling. There was a retro feel to the evening and it started with opener Cindy Lee. Dressed in a mini skirt with platinum blonde hair, this singer invoked a Marilyn Monroe vibe. But the set was more jangly garage band.

Headliner U.S. Girls opened with singer Meghan Remy doing an acapella duet in front of the stage. Then the stage curtains pulled back to reveal a surprise. For this mini-tour, or perhaps for only selected venues, she has assembled a 10-piece band. There were numerous familiar faces in the Toronto music scene including Kieran Adams (Diana) and Basia Bulat.

Remy sings unapologetically about feminist issues but with a 60s vibe that you can hear through the samples she loops. But now expanded to a huge band, it was impossible to miss the groove and danceability in her music. As her set went on and I marveled at her James Brown-esque performance, I also realized this wonderful show was being wasted. First, the reserved Toronto audience, especially the indie crowd here tonight, just couldn't loosen up enough to dance. Remy even pointed that out twice with some playful gestures. To be fair, it was also the venue. The Tranzac has a big stage to accommodate the band, most bar-sized venues could not. But the sound system here is high-school gym lame.

Given financial constraints, I doubt Remy could assemble this band very often. Given that she ran out of merch tonight, hopefully she could build enough of a fan-base to play at The Phoenix or even The Danforth Music Hall one day. Then the rest of the Toronto and the world can dance to the music of this powerhouse.

Buddha Feast

It was pouring rain Saturday morning when I headed over to Chinatown to buy some groceries. I've been eyeing the new vegan Vietnamese restaurant Saigon Lotus. So I decided to stop by for lunch. It had a bit of a combination vibe between your typical no-frills Asian diner and something more hipster-friendly. I picked 2 dishes that most vegetarians could not order in a regular Vietnamese restaurant.

First up was mushroom rice roll or banh cuon nam ($5). The dish came in appetizer size here instead of a full entree. It was quite a nice take. The chopped up mushroom was an excellent substitute for the ground pork and their version of vegan fish sauce was good. For the main course, I ordered the hu tieu my tho ($7.50). The regular version would be a hodge-podge of meat including pork, liver, shrimp and so on. This version was quite nice, rich and vagrant. I actually did not like all the soy protein substitutes. After a while, they all taste the same. I understand they're trying to replicate the "assorted meat" essence of this noodle soup but I think one would have been sufficient. The rich vegetarian broth, tasty noodles, and various greens was more than enough.

All Grown Up

Friday night I was at The Horseshoe for another nostalgia night. That is, time to see another band from the 80s that I didn't see the first time around. The evening did not start auspiciously with The James Clark Institute. Their hype-woman/merch seller made perhaps too big a pitch to me because this opener did not live up to it. Though it was all recently composed, they sounded like they were playing music from the 80s. It was as if the singer-songwriter had frozen his musical tastes and haven't listen to anything new in the last 25 years. Will head-liner The Pursuit of Happiness sound equally ossified, given that they will playing actual 80s songs?

My fear was unfounded. Though they played a few songs from their later repertoire, lead singer Mo Berg promised the packed and rowdy crowd only half-jokingly that it would be "all hits all the time". So it was definitely an 80s sound complete with extended guitar solos but played with high-octane energy. Both Mo Berg and Kris Abbott channeled loud crisp guitar with the latter definitely still looked "rock-and-roll". To be fair, Berg never looked that way even way back when. He can definite sing and pen some great songs including I'm An Adult Now, Cigarette Dangles, Hard To Laugh. Through a full set and 3 encores, the audience enjoyed every moment. Some had flown in from as far away as California to see this rare appearance.

Hump Day

I was at The Burdock Wednesday for a mid-week show. The venue was already packed when opener Ken Yates took the stage. Armed with a deft hand on the guitar, he gave us some Americana numbers. There were some stand-outs including Keep Your Head Down.

For her solo EP, Lydia Persaud has arrived fully formed. Granted she has spent five years with folk trio The O'Pears (and continues to do so), collaborated with other Toronto artists, and also studied music at Humber College. But this is an assured debut. Unlike a previous show I attended, where she ranged from country to pop to R&B, now Persaud has narrowed her focus to folk, gospel, and soul. I don't want to pigeon-hole her by equating an artist of colour with an "urban" sound. But her rich voice, full of earthy tones, is such a perfect fit for those particular songs that they went straight into your spine. This is music to dance to, or alternatively, seduce a willing lover. Her backing band, and the various vocal guests, were also up to keeping that funkiness going all night. It was a well-deserved standing ovation for Persaud.

Middle East To Go

On Tuesday, after an early evening yoga class, I was looking for a quick bite in the Queen and Bathurst area. Like most streets in Toronto, there were plenty of cheap shawarma places. But a trendier looking place called Soufi caught my eye. Claiming to be the first Syrian restaurant in Toronto, it had the typical hipster aesthetic: blonde wood, mismatched furniture, decorated with personal knick-knacks. The family that owns Soufi didn't come with the recent influx of Syrian refugees, though they are also relatively new to Canada. They've decided to aim a little higher and so is willing to pay Queen St. W rent prices. The menu was kept short and simple so I ordered a version of manaesh called sujuk ($6.50).

This was essentially a version of the Turkish Lahmacun (or ground-beef flatbread) but using the thicker Iranian zataar bread. It was a good couple of bites but next time I'll paid extra for a few add-ons like tomatoes and so on.

Got Gud

Friday night, I headed over to Gallery 345 for local Jazz singer Genevieve Marentette first fundraiser called Women In Jazz. To celebrate turning 40, Marentette has decided to organize a series of shows over the next year to raise funds for the Women's College Hospital in Toronto. Appropriately enough, I believe she will try to have mostly female musicians since they are as equally short-changed in live shows as they are in medical funding.

It was a beautiful evening of music. I couldn't believe these musicians have never played together. Keeping it all together was Nancy Walker (piano), Carly Howell (upright bass), and Zaynab Wilson (drums). A parade of wonderful singers made appearances. Highlights included Joanna Majoko's blistering God Bless The Child.

Song Sung Blue

I was at The Rivoli on Thursday to hear some folk/light country from Sweet Alibi and Jadea Kelly. These two bands often tour together as co-headliners, last time at The Dakota Tavern. With Toronto being Kelly's hometown, or it was before she moved to the States, the latter usually sings the second slot here.

First up tonight was Sweet Alibi, a trio from the prairies. Their songs had a bit of folk and new country. I'm on the fence about their music. It usually comes from a place of deep emotion, such as a song written while sitting in a hospital parking lot worrying about their mom. Yet the lyrics and melody often fall short of conveying such moving truths. As such, it was their covers that highlighted their talent: Bob Dylan's Gotta Serve Somebody, Leonard Cohen's Almost Like The Blues, and Khari Wendell McClelland's Song of the Agitator.

Being back in her old haunts, Kelly had plenty of musician friends out to see her including Mélanie Brûlé and Lydia Persaud who contributed some guest vocals. The women of Sweet Alibi also took the stage for back-up harmonies. She sang mostly slow sad songs, as she wryly acknowledged, that had a country-tinged pop vibe. Sometimes that got a bit pedestrian but more often, her great ear for melody and her lyrical phrasing elevated the music. They were deceptively simple verses that portrayed rich imagery. If Mariah is her Jolene, then that's a good legacy, though the combination of Kelly and Persaud on Beauty was also pretty dang great too.

Old Country

As part of Canada's 150th celebration, there have also been several municipal initiatives. In Toronto, one of the organized events was a free musical series called Toronto 150. Spread out over 6 shows at different venues, each highlighted a genre of music with local talents past and present.

On Wednesday at The Horseshoe, it was the country music scene on Queen St. W. Given the many clubs along this street over the decades, many bands have played here. But with The Horseshoe, The Cameron House, and other now-defunct bars, there was a country vibe in the early days. Tonight, some old performers and a new one will take to the stage.

I missed opener Johnny and the G-Rays. Lori Yates and Hey Stella was setting up when I arrived. This country singer has aged better than most of the crowd who were also here back in the 80s. She had a powerful voice and her set was a mix of old and contemporary country. With the death of Gord Downie (Tragically Hip) just yesterday, Yates did a sing-along cover of Bobcaygeon.

If Johnny and Lori represented Queen St. W. back in the day, then head-liner Whitney Rose was a showcase of Queen St. now. This is a slight stretch. Rose did cut her teeth playing here especially her weekly gig at The Cameron House. But she has been living in Nashville and Texas for several years now. Oddly enough, although young both in age and career, Rose's music sounds the oldest, reaching back for the sound of Hank Williams Jr and Tammy Wynette. Tonight she did several songs from her new album Rule 62 as well as some of her older material. Given her fairly extensive repertoire (3 albums and 1 EP), it was odd that she still sings cover songs. I could have done without Harper Valley PTA. On the other hand, as an explicit acknowledgement of the MeToo movement, You Don't Own Me packed a punch.

Whit Brit

I didn't really want to go out tonight but I decided to head on down to Theatre Passe Muraille for an artist showcase. This evening saw a number of theatre folks doing a tribute to Whitney Houston and Britney Spears.

There was a variety of singers who presented all over the theatre: on stage, by the piano bar, up in the catwalk. Most of them chose to reinterpret these songs in other styles, primarily musical theatre-ish. This mostly didn't work because what makes a pop song is the melody/hooks and also the catchy chords/rhythms. Without these stylings, they are rather insipid, or at least lack the artistic gravitas to carry the number. Also, the show turned to be more of a casual get-together combined with a meet-and-greet though tickets were sold at the door. So the performances were on the whole a bit loosey-goosey more appropriate to a living room jam. After the first set, I gave up and went home.

A Smorgasbord

On Saturday, I was at The Garrison to see an odd trio of bands. The noisy sound system at this venue was ideal for The Spirit of the Beehive and Mannequin Pussy who played loud, garage band music. It was a slightly less perfect fit for headliner Japanese Breakfast.

Michelle Zauner's solo project can get loud and rocking, so her airy vocals and light tones needed a better set-up to highlight her lyrics and melody. Tonight, anyone not familiar with her songs may be wondering why her 2 albums have been getting indie buzz. Still, it was an improvement over her 3-day residency at the Silver Dollar during CMW this year. Even Zauner pointed that out to her fans, but in a diplomatic way. Which just goes to show how terrible the Dollar was. And I'm one concert-goer who won't shed any tears over its closing.

With a couple of albums under her belt, Zauner has plenty of songs to engage the crowd. But nothing quite tops Everybody Wants To Love You which is a perfect gem of a pop song.

Sweet Hereafter

I was at the Berkeley Theatre Thursday night for a musical called Life After by newcomer Britta Johnson, who did book, music, and lyrics. The story revolved around Alice (Ellen Denny) who was coming to terms with the accidental death of her father Frank (Dan Chameroy). Her older sister Kate (Rielle Braid) and mom Beth (Tracy Michailidis) had to cope in their own way. Meanwhile, a parade of condolence wishers made their way through from school mates, to neighbours, and business colleagues.

I was struck by the musicality of the work. First, kudos for sticking to a cohesive theme instead of the pastiche of different styles that  musical theatre works often use nowadays. Second, the lyrics and music seemed modern and fresh, somewhere between the rap verbal density of Hamilton and the verbatim naturalism of London Road. The inclusion of a small, but live, orchestra was also note-worthy.

But I felt Life After had too much plot and so seemed a bit scattered. I wasn't surprised during the talkback to learn that there was a lot of workshopping, and late into the production too, to expand it from the shorter version presented at the Toronto Fringe Festival. Along the way, it got a bit overstuffed. As such, I was not deeply invested in some of the characters to emotionally react to their big scenes. Overall though it was a good start for Johnson. It'll be interesting to chart her progress since she is the inaugural Crescendo Series artist for The Musical Stage Company and they have committed to staging her works for three years.

Double Your Fun

I usually attend the cheaper Live at Massey Hall shows where up-and-coming artists get profiled. But on Sunday night, I paid full-price for Feist because this singer can sell out this venue on her own reputation. But fans must surely have left fully satisfied with the evening.

Like all artist tours, Feist was promoting songs from her new album Pleasure. You want to hear some new stuff, sure, but you're also jonesing for all the classics. No such conundrums tonight. With no opener, she did essentially almost 2 sets worth of material. So the 1st half had her running through every track in order (which usually doesn't happen until a 10th anniversary album tour or some such), then plenty of oldies including I Feel It All, Let It Die, and Mushaboom.

The stage pyrotechniques were kept to a minimum: a giant glowing fan, a spinning planetary "mobile" in a corner, and Feist in a lush magenta red-carpet ready dress. All the whiz band came from the band. If there was any doubt that she started her career as a punk rocker, her guitar work was proof. That lady can shred! The attentive audience sat through most her set, as typical in this venerable but stuffy venue. But with Feist's encouragement, we finally got up, and some even rushed the stage, when she got into her back catalogue. A lucky few even got invited on stage for some couples slow-dancing. A piece of advice for the young man who was "set up" by Feist. Pay attention to your dance partner, if only for those 5 minutes, not mug for the crowd with a dramatic sing-along. You might stay single for longer than you like if you don't develop some social acumen. Or as Feist sang on the last number Intuition: "Did I miss out on you?"

In The Year 2000

After Ali Wong's hilarious stand-up, I headed to the Opera House to see Dwayne Gretzky, the cover band supergroup. Tonight was their first show at this baroque venue. Usually they play their themed shows at the larger Phoenix Concert Theatre. I wonder if it was a scheduling issue or they felt that a 2000s theme show would draw a smaller crowd than their usual target demographics. Well, it was still a packed and sold-out crowd, though they did skew quite younger, a blunt reminder of your own decrepitude.

Like all their shows, it was high-energy because everybody knew all the words. Tonight, it was Cake (Short Skirt/Long Jacket), Avril Lavigne (Complicated), Kelly Clarkson (Since U Been Gone), The Killers (Mr. Brightside) and many other luminaries from the aughts. It did seem to go against their dad rock image of Springsteen and Bowie, until you realized these tune are on average 15 years old. So even these songs qualify for that moniker, at least if your memories of them aren't associated with drunken high-school or college revels.

Float Like a Butterball

Friday night, I went to the Winter Garden Theatre to see Ali Wong. This Asian-American has had quite a rise in the last few years starting with her Netflix comedy special Baby Cobra. Though it got raves mostly for her no-holds-barred jokes on sex and life, the fact that she was heavily pregnant was a rarity and possibly a first in the industry. So when Wong came on stage tonight to rapturous cheering, also enormously pregnant, everyone felt a weird dissonance. Was she doing props jokes now? Nope. I guess she's expecting her second child.

The deja vu continued as there were cameras all around the theatre. It turns out Netflix is filming Wong's 2nd comedy special over the course of her 4 shows here in Toronto. As she pointed out to her "cheap Asian sisters", they could have seen her for $10 with group-on tickets 2 years ago instead of the 80 bucks they shelled out tonight. But if the laughter that rang throughout the show was any indication, nobody thought they paid for a dud.

Though there were still some raunchy stories, Wong has shifted most of her material to her pregnancy, childbirth, its aftermath, and motherhood. But no sunshine and rainbow here, it was gross but gut-busting details that had both the women crying tears of laughter (and sympathy) and the men shedding tears (but likely in thankfulness).

I have no doubt her next comedy special will also be a big hit. I'm a little worried about Wong's apparent trend though. A baby for every special might lead to a The Wong Brunch scenario, given her ongoing success.

DIY

Saturday night, I was at The Horseshoe for a rare night of all female-fronted bands. In a nutshell, they might also all be categorized as bedroom pop. But though this usually means doing all your recordings non-professionally and at home, when played live all 3 bands actually had quite different vibes.

Opener Soccer Mommy was perhaps closest to expectations for the genre. Probably because she was playing a solo set of wistful tunes and a penchant for odd chords. Stef Chura had more edge to their set. With a sharp attack to her vocals and short punchy songs, there was a pop punk aesthetic with a nice groove. As for head-liner Jay Som, I first saw her doing a solo set for Japanese Breakfast. What a difference having a full band makes to her sound. It had a 80s jam vibe that made the set fun and danceable.

Hit Me Two Times

Friday night, I headed over to The Smiling Buddha Bar. This venue may mostly be known for punk and underground bands but they also book a variety of other genres. So it was great to see 2 black artists on stage tonight.

First up was Nnamdi Ogbonnaya from New York. He alternates between soulful, though slightly off-key, singing and melodic rap. Meanwhile, his band played a sort of noisy funk. It was a high-energy set that amped up the crowd.

Vagabon is a diminutive singer/guitarist who packs a powerful voice. Along with her all-female band, she delivered a set of impassioned, loud songs that the full house ate up. The only drawback is that with only 1 album, even with some new songs, her set wasn't long enough to satisfy the crowd. Here's hoping Vagabon can find sometime to get back to the studio for a sophomore effort.

Big In Europe

"Big In Japan" is a well-worn joke about an artist being more popular outside their hometown/country. Michelle Guverich (formerly Chinawoman) plays to 600-800 people in her adopted Berlin and elsewhere in Europe. But when I first saw her a few years back at The Gladstone Hotel, she was the opener for barely a dozen people. Tellingly, she has never done another North American show even though she has released several albums since then. But Guverich has decided to move back to Toronto, at least for the time being, and the show on Sunday was a welcome home and showcase of her latest album.

I was pleasantly surprised to see a packed and sold out Lula Lounge. There were no doubt friends and family in the crowd. But from the cosmopolitan make-up of the audience, French, Spanish, Turkish, Russian, and other languages could be heard, I suspect many were fans from abroad. Perhaps they have also found themselves here in Toronto, temporarily or otherwise, and were thrilled to see her play in a more intimate venue than a similar concert elsewhere.

Backed by a small band, Guverich's repertoire consisted of verbose and sardonic songs painting vivid and specific scenarios. You didn't really need any back-stories to understand, but Guverich was happy to fill in some details with anecdotes. It was unsurprising that she was witty and charming, often using slyly mischievous understatements. Given the direction of the Toronto music scene, it's still doubtful Guverich will ever achieve the same level of success here. But however long she stays, I welcome her return, especially if it means there'll be more local shows in the future.

Update (Dec 2020): Guverich moved to Denmark with her partner some time in 2019, released another album, but did not play another Toronto show.

Great Scott!

I was an early show Saturday evening at The Dakota Tavern. Having heard Kelly Prescott in a group sing-a-long at a Jadea Kelly show, I wanted to hear her own music. This Ottawa area native recently moved to Toronto, though in recent weeks she has been doing a cross-country train tour as part of the Canada 150 celebrations.

Over two sets, Prescott charmed me with her music, a throwback to bluegrass and old country. She acknowledged that being country music and all, there was plenty of songs about drinking (Bottle of Wine, I'm Still Drinking). Though Prescott didn't do any about trucks or guns. What made her music interesting were the unusual perspectives like that of the mistress (Leaving Her) and mischievous sense of humour (Heels Over Head). She ended the evening with an acknowledgement of her deep country roots, Prescott comes from a multi-generational family of performers, with a high-octane cover of The Auctioneer.

Himalayan Trek

On a tip that there was an eatery around King and Dufferin that sold Trini doubles, I headed to the area on Saturday for lunch. After walking all the way to Roncesvalles and then doubling back along Queen, I gave up on that quest. Although the stroll was nice, I haven't really spent much time in Parkdale in the last 10 years or so, I was getting famished. With all the Tibetan restaurants in the area, I settled on Tsampa.

Looking over their menu, I opted for the newari set ($8.99), which seems to be their take on a thali platter, and some butter tea ($1.50). It was a good thali, with curry flavoured potatoes and beef. The chickpeas (chana) was whole instead of the usual mush so that added some interesting texture. The most unusual was the beaten rice (poha). But however authentic that may be, and quite aesthetically pleasing to look at, it was like eating uncooked oatmeal flakes. It was more palatable when mixed with a bit of the curry. I think it would go better as a topping or cooked in a soup or stew, as is the case with some other dishes from that region.

Vamp It Down

I had planned on several outdoor shows on Friday including The Balconies at Taste of the Danforth. But a threatening sky, which eventually poured all night, meant that I only went to the early set at Roy Thomson Hall Patio. Tonight's featured singer was Elise LeGrow. With her dark bangs, she looked like a femme fatale from a detective movie. I was expecting throwback, stylized singing and I wasn't disappointed. It reminded me of a tougher, more cynical Tia Brazda, a local jazz singer who also harkened to yesteryear.

 Her set consisted of a number of original numbers and songs from her upcoming album Playing Chess, where she interprets classic music from Chess Records including her take on Chuck Berry's You Never Can Tell. She was backed by a tight band with numerous sax and guitar solos. Somewhere between jazz, pop, and R'n'B, LeGrow brought some cool heat to a humid evening.

Wind It Up

On Saturday, I decided not to go to the Caribbean Festival parade because the sky opened up during the morning. But to get some island vibe, I checked out the new Jamaican restaurant at College and Clinton. This location is cursed by numerous attempts over the years. Unfortunately, the spot is across from Café Diplomatico, a mediocre Italian joint blessed with a large patio and long-term name recognition.

Well, having an odd name like AF1 Canteen and an order-at-the-cash fast-food vibe won't help this venture. For lunch, I got the jerk chicken ($7.99), a mac pie ($3.99) and some plantain ($2.99). The main was the best bang for your buck as you get an enormous amount of chicken. In fact, I'd rather trade some of that protein for more sides than just the white bread. The chef wanted to bring "authentic jerk" to the non-Jamaican crowd, as jerk is a BBQ process and not the spice that most people associates with that term.

So it was sweeter and drier than any other jerk in the city. I liked the effort, though it definitely felt "odd" to my taste buds as I'm used to the wetter rub. I would also trade some of that lean breast for some well-marinaded chicken skin. The "pie" was creamy mac and cheese with a hint of coconut cream. The plaintain was sweet and hot. Overall, I liked the spot and will be back to try the jerk salmon, a dish I haven't had in 15 years ever since a quiet Jerk spot at College and Ossington closed. But I don't think Canteen will have much success given the Little Italy dinner crowd usually expects a little more flash and trendiness.

Three's No Charm

They say things come in three, good or bad. So following my bad experience at Southern Accent, my next two restaurant visits were also duds. My Sheppard lunch try-outs continued at Canton Kitchen in a plaza at Pharmacy Rd. Perhaps I had simply chosen a bad dish. But it was hard when there were more than 100 items on the menu. I picked the Beef and Egg Fried Noodle ($8.50). The presentation of this main and the complimentary soup was completely unappetizing. I've had chicken feet at dim sum, but to see a bloated version bobbing in broth was rather off-putting. The noodles were covered with a gloopy mess of egg and beef. It's hard to do Chinese wrong, but this place came close.

A few days later, I stopped for dinner at a new Italian-American eatery at Bloor and Lansdowne called Sugo. It was loud and cheerful, exuding a bit of a Jersey Shore vibe especially from the waitstaff and kitchen crew. I asked for the rigatoni ($9) and a side of meatballs ($7).  The side-dish was actually only 1 meatball, though it was fist-sized and sufficient for most people. The pasta was slathered in rosé sauce, so hot that you might burn your tongue. It was filling, but not much better than a can of sauce and some dried pasta from your supermarket. As it is not any cheaper than the superior Enoteca Sociale, Sugo won't replace Enoteca as my go-to pasta place.

Bad Accent

I have a fond memory of eating my first Turducken at Southern Accent. So when I saw that this venerable restaurant has set up shop at College and Ossington, after the Honest Ed's building is slated for razing, I wanted to drop by. On Tuesday, I finally made a visit after a yoga class.

Though the Summerlicious festival was over for this year, they still offered the $28 prix fixe. Since it was a few bucks cheaper than the items separately, I gave in to the sales pitch. In a nutshell, the 3-course meal was the worse I've had in quite a while. It was an edible and filling dinner. But in no way would I describe this as restaurant-quality food.

Least offensive was the chilled soup. Essentially, it was bland tomato soup. Given that something like a watermelon gazpacho with herbs isn't hard to make, this was just lazy cooking. The Cajun jambalaya was a mess. The rice was mushy and heavy, with tasteless shrimp and grassy collard greens. In contrast, the tomato-based sauce was so overpowering you can't taste the sausage or anything else. Even the root-beer float was a joke. The vanilla scoop tasted like the $5 2-gallon no-name ice cream you buy at No Frills. Even then, I wouldn't serve it still embedded with solid chunks of ice.

Three Muses

Saturday night, I went to an early show at the Burdock. Because of my trek from The Beaches area, traffic, and a quick dinner, I arrived at the tail end of opener's Mark Fossen set. After a short break, The O'Pears (Meg Contini, Jill Harris, Lydia Persaud) took the stage. This trio didn't have a backing band tonight, though they did play various instruments including ukulele and guitar.

As such, they aren't strictly an a capella band. Still, the most obvious thing about these singers were their harmonies. Most pop songs may have some backing vocals on the chorus. The O'Pears' folk-tinged numbers have 3-part lines interwoven throughout. Even the new songs, which had more pop sensibilities, emphasized their resonant vocals. Their music left the packed room in breathless silence, although whoops of delight did break out.

Persaud mentioned that this was their 5th anniversary as a band. It's amazing they haven't had more mainstream success given their advantages. In addition to their voices, to put it bluntly, these are young, photogenic, quite attractive women. Also, media-friendly personalities can be fleshed out without too much embellishment: the sexy one, the cute one, the sassy one. They just need a more connected agent and a deliberate strategy of creating one or two cross-over pop hits.

Beach Ball

I almost missed Retrocity's 80s a cappella show at The Beaches Jazz Festival on Saturday afternoon because of numerous traffic delays. With summer construction, subway closure for system upgrade, and other head-aches, taking transit to the East end was a nightmare. However, it gave me a chance to see what's been happening in other parts of Toronto that I don't visit that often.

Parts of Queen St. E have completely gentrified, especially starting from just over the bridge at the DVP all the way to The Beaches. The section between there and Yonge St. was an odd mix of new development and run-down buildings, indigents and chi-chi pedestrians.

Retrocity's audience is, seemingly, skewing older and older with each show. On the other hand, the 80s is more than 30 years ago now. As always, they have a wonderful variety of arrangements of tunes. One negative was the amount of time doing soundcheck. They had time to do this before their show. It sounded like the sound-tech was fairly green as most of the instructions came from band members. On the other hand, when you have so accomplished singers, you listen to them when they tell you the feedback is coming from the 80 Hz range.

Eastern Hoe-down

I missed opener The Pick Brothers Band at Yonge-Dundas Square for Indie Friday because I was scarfing down some BBQ. However, I arrived in time for head-liner Ria Mae. This Halifax native (though currently residing Montreal) has recently changed her sound from its indie vibe to more of a pop sound. As an out queer artist, she had a good following of young queer kids cheering her in the front row.

The sound was worse than usual at this venue. Tonight, it was mostly an indifferent tech crew who seemed to ignore what was going on on stage. Several times, Mae had to wave to get their attention. When she switched to her guitar for some older tunes from her indie days, its contribution was barely audible. Mae reminded me of Tegan and Sara, queer artists who have embraced more pop. Which is to say, without their instruments, they are all quite awkward dancers with diffident stage presence. She can write catchy tunes though from Clothes Off to Bend. At the end of the show, I noticed several curious bros who were impressed enough with her dance numbers to search for her name on the advertising billboard.

I See Piggy

On a beautiful Friday evening, I headed to Dundas St. W around Ossington St. There were now, of course, so many choices in the area. I decided to try a BBQ place called Smoke Signals. It was early yet so I had my choice of seats. Glancing over the 1 page menu, I picked the brisket platter ($22). It came on a cafeteria tray my dinner of coleslaw, potato salad, pickles, and 0.5 lb of brisket. Despite the deliberately utilitarian plating, it was an excellent dinner with nice flavours. I liked the little touches such as potato chips in the salad for the crunch and dialing back the acidity from the cole slaw. I did not ask for any BBQ sauce but I did get a nice spicy hot sauce. The brisket was tender and fatty enough to stand on its own. However, if you pick the lean option, you may want to get some sauce. It was an enormous meal, but hopefully I can burn some of it off as I plan to go to an outdoor concert that promises some dance-able music.

Fast Bass

Small, to-go sushi counters are a native part of the fast-food scene as much as sandwiches and soups. There have been 2 in my building. But some are slightly better than others. I found one on my lunch excursions at Sheppard and Warden. Mika Sushi is primarily a take-out place with only a two-seat table and another spot by the window if you want to eat there. The rolls are pre-packaged though freshly made. With the amount of traffic going through, at least around lunch-time, the containers probably aren't sitting there all there.

I actually got a vegetarian set for $11.99. As such, I got fresh made rolls of vegetarian dragon rolls, spicy crispy roll, and tofu pockets. The portions were quite large and I was happy with the flavour. It also came with your typical desultory miso soup and salad.

On another day, I headed in the opposite direction to Yonge and Sheppard. Here was a cluster of small eateries. I opted for the Buddha Bowl ($10.99). It's not really vegetarian as there is white tuna in the poké dish. However, it was a nice mix of greens, brown and white rice and other ingredients. The fish was tastier than the last poké I had from Poke Guys near City Hall.

A Bit Sketchy

The Toronto Fringe Festival expanded this year to include The Theatre Centre, The Great Hall, and several site-specific locations. I only had a chance to see one show this year, an early afternoon spot at the Phelan Playhouse with sketch troupe Life's A Betch. As a play on the title (ie, beach), a soft instrumental version of Girl From Ipanema played before the show. The foursome began by walking down the center aisle as chanting monks. But as it was a Michael Jackson pop song, one of them eventually sang out the words, breaking their vows of silence. This gag would return several times throughout the set. Another one involved oblivious elites blithely going on with their meal on the sinking Titanic. Yet another had a video "unboxer" attempting to open a new iPhone.

Unfortunately, both the recurring sketches and most of the one-offs were generally weak. There were two stand-outs for me. The first was an awkward funeral scene, the awkwardness being that mom didn't actually die, leading to increasingly absurd encounters with grieving visitors. The second was a community production of Grease, where the director's attempt to try and get the performers to ad-lib/scat over some shoo-be-dos and ram-a-lams resulted in some worrisome Freudian slips.

Rain Dance

The sky was pouring Friday afternoon as I was heading home from work. I really wanted to see Tanika Charles play a free show at the Harbourfront outdoor stage. Finally, it stopped raining though the sky was still a dark gray. I took a chance and headed down to the lake. Luckily, the rain held off the rest of the night and the show wasn't canceled.

Ms. Charles was her usual high-energy self and led the crowd through several funky numbers. Most were preceded by a short, funny story about their origins. Both the songs and stories detailed a rather eventful romantic life but they make great dance songs including Soul Run and Endless Chain. Her "working for the man" song Parkdale got cheers from locals who know the area quite well. But I missed her women back-up singers. Though her band covered well, a man singing falsetto didn't have the same R'n'B group vibe. And they certainly didn't do any of the Supremes-style choreography.

Funky Fruit

With the holiday week-end over, I thought I needed an early pick-me-up. So Tuesday afternoon, I headed over to Sheppard and Yonge, which I had previously thought was a wasteland of cars and condos. And although that was mostly true, they have lured in a few restaurants at ground level to give the street some interest.

One of which was the tiny HCafé, an offshoot of Uncle Tetsu. No surprise that they had Japanese cheesecake here, though obviously not made on site. But since their specialty was dessert there was a wide variety of ice cream, several types of madeleine (which I tried a few weeks later), the sticky dough dessert mochi, and Daifuku fruit mochi.

Each mochi came in different sizes, depending on the fruit inside. So $3.55 got you either 4 little blueberry ones, a large strawberry or kiwi, or 2 medium peach. The small blueberries were good, though too small to have any filling. The best was the peach, which lent a wonderful perfume to the bean paste. The strawberry was disappointing, perhaps because they used the bloated but bland sort you find in most grocery stores. The kiwi didn't add much except a lot of juice.

Walking on Sunshine (and Rain)

This year, due to the 150th anniversary of its founding, Canada Day's celebrations were larger than usual. On Saturday, given all the various sites around Toronto, I decided to check out the activities at Humber Bay Park. But it would be fun to get there by walking along the lake.

So I started my 10 km stroll at Harbourfront. The area was packed, though it probably wasn't just due to the long week-end. A lot of folks were there to see the giant rubber duck floating by the dock, a $150,000 rental that got some people riled up. But it was all grinning faces today as everyone took selfies near the mallard. This was the idealized Canada: happy, diverse people mingling in cheerful peace.

Between Harbourfront and Roncesvalles, the walk was hit and miss. There were some quiet gems including a quiet, peaceful park at Bathurst. But mostly you were blocked off from the lake by either industrial and municipal sites or private docks and waterfront clubs. This was the preserve of white money, leaving the rest of us the roaring traffic of Lakeshore Boulevard.

The view brightened up considerably after Roncy. The lake was available again and groups of mostly visible minorities were having picnics or playing in the park. This was the mirror image of The Beaches neighbourhood in the east, where close to 90% are white. But the sand wasn't nearly as nice. Sights along the way: Sunnyside café, a park where muscular men were lifting not iron but their own weights in various gymnastics/acro exercises, a pedestrian bridge offering a soaring view of downtown.

As I finally approached Humber Bay Park, the sky darkened. It was partly due to the rather frightening proliferation of densely packed condo towers, but mostly from the approaching storm. So I made a rather quick pass through the butterfly sanctuary. The rain came pouring down and I heard one song from Sate before they shut down due to fear of lightning. With no end in sight from the wind and water, myself and numerous others decided to head home. In my case, a transit shuttle heading to Old Mill station that meandered through some West-end neighbourhoods.

Brilliant Shine

Luminato seems diminished this year, possibly because it has spread out to several locations in the downtown core. There's no central focus, like the Hearn Generating Station last year, or the large outdoor stage with free concerts in previous years. There's some buzz about the famous Spielgeltent where several shows will take place.

On Saturday, I went to see My Brightest Diamond. That tent was tiny in David Pecaut Square. And with nothing else around, nobody would know that there's anything going else, let alone Luminato. Inside it was more interesting with its circus feel and stained glass. But whatever disappointment I felt dissipated from the first song of musician Shara Nova, This Is My Hand. Accompanied by choreographed hand gestures, it was powerful start to the best live show I have seen in years.

First, tremendous kudos to her 2 collaborators: Earl Harvin on drums and Chris Brew on bass. These Jazz musicians, but also well-versed in rock, brought tremendous technical skill as well as artistry to the show. It was probably also the occasion that drew out everyone's best. Apparently despite being on Nova's albums for the last 12 years, this was the first time they have all played together live.

But it all hung on Nova's songwriting, emotional performance, and beautiful vocals. No milquetoast pop numbers for her. Even the ostensibly love songs veered off the usual, such as her "lullaby" for her son. And the political numbers about the current injustices against African-Americans packed such pain and rage, they felt like body blows. I believed her when she said music can save your life. I don't think My Brightest Diamond play live shows often, and I don't know if that level of commitment can be sustained across a tour, but this one-off performance was a privilege to experience.

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Friday night, I was at Massey Hall for another Live at Massey Hall. Tonight, two indie performers took the stage with new albums. First up was The Wooden Sky. This group indie-folk vibe was a bit of rock, a lot of americana, and just a slight touch of country. I thought when they went acoustic or alternately hard, it was more interesting that the dull middle-ground. The headliner was east-coaster Jenn Grant. She has gone more pop, though her indie roots were still apparent. I only stayed for a few songs in her set, though I liked her stuff more, because I didn't feel like sitting tonight.

Luckily, just down the block was the cure for moody indie. The Pride organizers have brought in 70s disco in the form of Boney M. I arrived just as their cover of Sonny was winding down. After that, the packed crowd (and myself) danced non-stop for the next hour with hits like Brown Girl In The Ring, Bahama Mama, Ma Baker, and of course Rasputin. There was a bit of cheesy nostalgia: I can't remember another show where, for an encore, the band sang a megamix of all the songs they had just done! But it was all in genuine fun and a much more diverse crowd than the other show.

More Lunch Munch

So there were a couple more lunch spots to try this week. At Sheppard and Pharmacy, there were a few old-school Chinese places that didn't stand out. But there was Umji, a Korean diner, that seemed promising. I opted for the soon tofu stew ($7.95). Honestly, I don't know how these places stay in business. With the variety of kimchi that accompanied the soup, plus the bowl of rice, it was a full-to-bursting lunch for under $10.

I was also back to Birchmount for the last spot in that area, the oddly named Mystik which turned out to be another South Asian take-out. It didn't have the wonderful array of options on display as Crown Paradise. I was hoping to try some Parsi dishes. These are entrées from an Indian ethnic group whose ancestors came from Persia. Unfortunately, they were no longer offered. According to the owner, most people who were interested in these dishes already make them at home. What a shame.

So I opted for the intriguing butter chicken roll ($4.99). It turned out to be a large burrito-style concoction stuffed with salad and gooey butter chicken. This was quite a filling meal for the price, although the flavour was average.

Cut To The Feeling

Perhaps Carly Rae Jepsen's management finds her career in a strange spot. Obviously she's a money maker, with critically acclaimed pop albums (Emotion and Emotion: Side B), and a devoted fan-base. She could sell out mid-size venues, but she lacks the wider popularity to sell out arenas. In any case, whether by choice or from corporate advice, she has only ever toured as an opener for larger acts like Hedley.

But thanks to the Canadian Sesquicentennial celebrations sponsored by various levels of government, there was a one-off show at Roy Thomson Hall on Saturday. I quickly snapped up some tickets though I wasn't sure about sitting in a chi-chi venue listening to Jepsen, backed by the Toronto Symphony, as opposed to dancing to synth and percussion. The sold-out crowd wasn't sure either and spent the night alternating between standing up dancing and sitting down.

It was Jepsen, and now and then her long-time guitarist, front and centre. She sang through every song on Emotion, this was the ostensible reason for tonight, but also her big hit Call Me Maybe and Tug of War, a "deep-cut" for her fans. Stripped of the dance-y percussion and augmented by cinematic strings, quite a few numbers revealed the hurt and longing in her lyrics. The evening was padded out with two instrumental interludes: Debussy's Clair de Lune and an abridged version of Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet. It was quite an enjoyable evening though I'm still holding out hope for a Jepsen show in her natural element.

Say Cheese

After an early show at The Dakota, I stepped out to a rainy evening. Before the show, I was wandering around the trendy restaurant strip along Ossington for a late dinner spot. I stumbled around a corner and found a tiny spot called Bobbie Sue's Mac and Cheese. All of it, such as it was, was the kitchen/prep area. But there were a few seats on the sidewalk for the few who wasn't ordering for take-out. Luckily they were open until midnight so I was able to return for a small bowl of Classic Mac ($6). Well, small is relative because it was quite a large bowl for a late nosh, brimming with hot pasta and gooey 5 cheese blend. That was satisfying though no doubt my diet took a hit with that much carb-loading!

Clean It Up

Friday night, I was down at The Dakota Tavern for an early show. Richard Laviolette was the opener. Armed with a guitar and a collection of Country Americana, he serenaded us about black birds and spring. It was a nice set at the beginning but as the bar volume grew, you could barely hear him. As an aside, despite its reputation as a great musical venue, both its tiny size and reputation as a "friends hang-out" place makes The Dakota one of the worse spot in the city for loud chatter. Any solo artists or purveyors of soft, emotional music should set their sight elsewhere.

Blimp Rock, the "corporate band" whose aim is to raise money to have a music festival in a blimp, has amazingly gone from a 1-album to a 3-album "joke". So tonight, we were here to celebrate the release of Soap Opera. There's plenty of inside jokes and lead singer Peter Demakos also made an amiable emcee leading us through the many lows (not too many highs) of the band's history including a legal fight with the Blue Jays and a tiny blimp bird-house venture. He also read the numerous hate comments online about the band because of their great trolling (in the old-school internet sense) techniques.

The songs also had plenty of inside-baseball and fan-service winks. Sometimes literally, as per the new song Oh, Basketball which is a callback to their baseball ode from the first album. But despite the drollness, the tunes off Soap Opera including Wet Hot Canadian Summer, Duet with the Devil, and Raccoon Nation 2 were rocking and Ode to Faults, sung a capella and joined in by the crowd, was even touching. Fans of the band was able to get their hands on their new album, which came as a downloadable card embedded inside a bar of soap. Why? First, Blimp Rock is always trying new merchandising idea and second, it's their response to "fast music" (Spotify and other streaming services) by offering "slow music" (it'll take a few baths before you'll get that card).

More Lunchables

It was time for more lunch options this week. Back I went to Sheppard and Birchmount for Very Peri Chicken. This wasn't bustling with customers so no evidence of a busy chicken rotisserie was found. The chicken burger and slaw ($7.49) was OK but this place is only a draw if you want to eat cheap Portuguese/BBQ chicken and have halal restrictions.

At the same intersection but on the Birchmount side was a great find, a Sri Lanka take-out called Crown Paradise. There was a wide variety of ready-to-eat options, not usually found in most South Asian eateries. I've gone back numerous times to try them all but for my first time here I opted for the uniquely Sri Lanka dish of Madras Kottu Roti ($7). This dish of chopped roti, mixed with chicken curry and spices, was filling, tasty, and had a nice spicy kick.

My final stop this week was also at this location in the main plaza. I stepped inside Alanoor Afghan Kabob which, despite some of its current Middle Eastern décor, must have been an attempt at a trendy spot in a previous incarnation. The Vaziri Kabob ($11.99) was a huge serving of basmati rice, afghan-style naan, and wonderfully tender and seasoned beef kofta and chicken breast.

Good Mood

Adaline had her Toronto show at The Drake Underground on Saturday. First up was Only Child. Armed with a loop pedal for her guitar, plenty of reverb for her vocals, she did a short set of sloppy ambient music. Adaline, a Vancouver transplant here in Toronto, has lately been living in L.A. Her entire set was every song off her new album Aquatic.

Her songs are often commissioned to play over the various montages so popular in TV shows. It was easy to see why: a mix of melancholy pop, soaring vocals, and atmospheric mood. I have only ever seen her playing solo, triggering tracks off her laptop and synth boxes. So it was a pleasure to finally hear Adaline with a full band. Taking centre stage, she was able to let loose and concentrated on her big vocals. The bigger live sound got plenty of people to dance too.

The Lunch Trail

When I work from home, I take advantage of the lunch spots in my neighbourhood. I decided to also try out a few near my work. But out in the city's suburbs, they tend to be concentrated at major intersections.

First up at Sheppard and Warden was Eight Noodles, a northern Chinese eatery. They make their own here and has a wide variety of choices. One caveat: most of the menu is in Chinese so you may have to go by the photos and a few text in English. I got a regular bowl of la mien ($6.99). Both the broth and the slices of beef had a strong beef flavour. The noodles were soft and chewy. It was a filling lunch but in my opinion, this style of soup doesn't have the same appeal as pho or ramen.

Next at Sheppard and Birchmount was Kub Khao. The back is more nicely decorated but usually busy, so I sat in the more utilitarian front of the restaurant. Instead of the usual thai curry, I opted for one of their "street food": a plate of grilled chicken and sticky rice called Khao Niew Kai Yang ($8.95). But this lunch was a bust. The glutinous rice was too sticky and sat heavy in the gut. The chicken had some flavour but not much else, neither crispy skin nor tender flesh. The Thai ice tea ($3.95) was nice though.

West Fest

Gentrification of Dundas St. W also brings along big events like the annual street festival Dundas West Fest. I skipped out on most of it but Saturday night I arrived later for the free outdoor concert across from The Garrison.

It turns out they were running almost an hour behind schedule. I came just as Ronley Teper's Lipliner was starting their set. Their singer was the kind of woman of a certain age who just doesn't care about people's opinions anymore. So their songs were quirky, verbose, sometimes political, and spanned several genres.

Casper Skulls was at the other end of the age spectrum. Their music was harder hitting: a bit of punk, indie, and rock. I was surprised at their equally dense verbiage and even more taken back by their content. Though there were the usual love songs, there were also plenty of political and social observations on issues affecting their young lives.

Diana brought the full band tonight including back-up singers Ivy Mairie and Gary Beals. But between the late start, their complex set-up (the techs probably had to mic up close to 30 sources), and the city curfew, it was an abbreviated set than was no more than 20 minutes. So they ran mostly through a few songs from their latest album, concentrating on the synth-y dance vibes and extended vocal pyrotechnics, especially between Beals and lead singer Carmen Elle.

Pizza Pair

Saturday morning, I headed to St. Clair Ave for the 4th anniversary of The Repair Café. This DYI initiative has volunteers of all stripes, but mostly sewers of clothes and fixers of household items, help to fix various broken goods. I brought along a small TV soundbar that has a non-working aux input. If an item was fixed, a bell would ring. Unfortunately, only a few dings sounded while I was there and it didn't include my piece. I think most electronic items were simply too old; there were better results in the sewing room. But it was a convivial atmosphere and a fun idea.

Looking around for a lunch spot, I finally ended up at Pizza E Pazzi with a diavola pizza ($15) and a pint of Krambucher ($9). It was an attractive pie, covered with the olive oil, fior di latte (mozzarella from cow's milk as opposed to the pricier buffalo), spicy salami, and chili. The crust was thin and freshly baked. Pazzi claims official "Neapolitan" designation but the dough was just a step below the best pizzeria in the city. Still, it was a nice lunch.

All Dolled Up

Friday evening after work, I stopped by Dolly's, a new restaurant at Bloor and Lansdowne. This was yet another venture in the Playa Cabana restaurant empire. This one promises filipino comfort food as a tribute to head honcho Dave Sidhu's mother, hence the self-described mojito bar and panciteria on the signage.

I ordered Kinilaw ($12) and, no surprise, Pancit Bihon ($12). The first dish was a wonderful take on the ceviche. Along with tender albacore tuna and the usual tangy base, there was tasty blend of Asian flavour including thick coconut cream and crunchy shrimp chips. The second dish looked great, red prawns sitting on an abundant bed of egg and glass noodles. There was also soft-boiled egg, green onions, and bits of chicken. I wasn't quite as enamored of this entree. The blend didn't seem balanced: too much glass noodles, not enough chicken. It was oily and a bit one note. However, toward the end, once the plate had cooled down to room temperature, the pancit had a better mouth-feel. So perhaps this is a dish that tastes better the next day.