A-fun-cular

When I missed lunch by 2.5 hours because of a work meeting, I wasn't going to let it happen again on Friday. So I took advantage of the sunshine to head to No Frills at noon for a few basic items like fruit and oat milk to tie me over until my departure. I stopped by Szechuan Noodle Bowl to try more of their non-noodle dishes. This time it was cumin-spiced cauliflower ($15.49) and hot-and-sour shredded potatoes ($9.49). The portion sizes were huge and even two people could not finish them. Both dishes were delicious though I wonder if there was an error in translation. The potatoes tasted like some sort of raw root vegetable. Either that or they have perfected a way to prepare crunchy raw taters. When the waiter helped me collect the leftovers into take-out containers (more than enough for 3 more meals), they mentioned that I was like an older relative to them. Oof! It's still hard to contemplate that I was a "historical figure" to the younger generation.

Later on that evening, I wasn't the oldest at The Baby G but I wasn't far off. I was mostly there for Tange, whom Little Junior joked lovingly as a "Toronto legend". Certainly they was the most successful, not the trio itself, but the career of the individual members: Deanna Petcoff, Sabrina Carrizo Sztainbok, and Luna Li. Sadly, the latter was not present tonight and Tange had a substitute drummer. Perhaps she had other commitments or now that she can fill Danforth Music Hall, Li no longer wanted to play dinky venues per her Mod Club show.

Being more or less a side project, Tange has only put out a handful of songs in 10 years. But tonight we were treated to several new numbers. They had a cool vibe and combined elements of pop (without sounding dated) with atmospheric garage. The songs were fun and approached well-worn tropes in a novel way: a song about relationship commitment meant getting the smartphone password. Deanna and Sabrina's vocals blended well, were usually understated, but sometimes were let loosed with Evanescence-esque power.

The fun continued with Little Junior. They were an energetic four piece, somewhere between Weezer and Green Day. I couldn't quite sussed what they were singing about through my earplugs, but the music was catchy and danceable. I was going to duck out but gave headliner Arenas a chance at a few songs. The drummer/singer quipped that they wanted to give a $30 performance for a $20 show. They delivered on that promise and I ended up staying for their entire set. It was as if early David Byrne met a muscular psych rock outfit: slinky bass, propulsive drums, and odd chords and riffs.