School Band

Class of 2015 is a bands mini-showcase spanning 3 week-ends at The Silver Dollar. This venerable venue, though a bit of a dump, was recently designated a heritage building. Saturday's weather was mild enough to convince me to drag my old bones out of hibernation. But I wasn't up to these late night revels anymore, so I ended up only seeing 2 bands on the bill.

Nikki Fierce is a female trio doing pop-punk. They looked barely old enough to get pass security, and their roadies were older family members. Their music could be punky, but similar to The Lonely Parade, their penchant for changing tempo and melodies gave them more of a (proggy) rock feel. Each player took turns on the vocals with different feel from throaty cynicism to more twee lightness.

The BB Guns are veterans compared to the opener, more confident and assured on stage. Despite the disparate looks, Charlotte Marie's 60s Motown vibe, Laura Hermiston's Fleetwood Mac look, and Alana Marta Dee's rock chick get-up, they were usually loud and fast. The first two numbers (She Thinks She's So (Soho), Bang) were just barely 4 minutes long. But it was obvious they had multiple influences as all 3 women also sang lead, with each song invoking a different mood. The rich harmony of new number She's So Fine could easily be a radio-friendly pop ballad. The only negative was the mix, too loud and muddy to make out the lyrics.

Manic Monday

Monday night, I went to Lee's Palace for some classic 90s indie in the form of Scottish duo The Vaselines. Before they came on, Philadelphia girl group Amanda X opened the show. In some ways, this trio had similar aesthetics: punchy pop-punk, a bit of surf-rock in the percussion, and two singers exchanging lyrics. But Amanda X veered toward the noisier end with sludgy guitar and numerous tempo changes.

The fans for the headliners broke down into two groups: fresh-face youngsters and the middle-aged. The latter were in their teens or twenties when they probably heard about Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee via covers done by Nirvana. Yet they were already broken up by then and never capitalized on the exposure. As Kelly pointed out: "We play short songs". So it was amazing that they played more than an hour of it both the "classics" (Molly's Lips, Jesus Was My Sunbeam) and new (I Hate The 80s, High Tide Low Tide). Although it was all punchy pop(-punkish), there were strands from other genres: sometimes rock, sometimes pop, even a bit of Irish folk. The commonality was their dual vocals in harmony or dual melodies and their smart, observant lyrics packed into tight verses. This funny wittiness was also present in their banter which was usually sexual. Kelly and McKee was that older uncle and aunt couple that said risque things (while winking at you) to get a rise out of your parents.

Circle Of Life

I'm still not feeling it and continuing to stay mostly at home. But on Friday, I did venture out to Whelan's Gate, a small bar near Bloor and Keele that feels like a medieval tavern. A friend was celebrating a significant birthday milestone. Partly because of that, and partly because of some health concerns, he has been both freaking out and in a funk. I reminded him that there were still decades left (even if they seem to be accelerating.)  That and a few beers lightened up the general mood.

For a pick-me-up on Saturday I returned to my new favourite cheap pizzeria Fresca Pizza. It's fun watching pizzas being made. Tonight, the wife was on duty and she was just as surly as the husband. Nevertheless, the orders kept coming in via phone and on-line. There were plenty of walk-ups too, some of whom have been apparently been eating here for 10 years or more. So despite my last impression, Fresca do have plenty of regulars. These folks know the score: load up on $3.50 slices of either pepperoni or margherita. Some paid ahead so as to guarantee a serving hot from the oven and not be left empty-handed. I did enjoy my custom-order pie, but I wonder if I should stick to the per slice option, especially during the busy dinner hours. Thin, hot, and gooey, they look as close to NY pizza as you'll get here in Toronto.

Old Man Winter

This is late for the first post of the new year. In previous years, there would already be a flurry of activities. But I'm running out of the second wind that sustained me the last while and have been feeling my age lately. Combined with some frigid weather, puttering around at home was more attractive.

The cold had let up on Wednesday. So I finally ventured out to the Dakota for an early set. Perhaps the foot-stomping music of New Country Rehab will put some spring back into my step. They did 2 sets tonight. The first featured covers (Effigy, Alone and Forsaken) and originals (Pretty Boy Floyd, Angel of Death) with an emphasis on rambling Americana ballads. The small crowd appreciated the furious fiddling and rhythm but not particularly vocally. So there was something deflating about polite applause after such lively numbers.

The second set included a musical guest. As part of their January residency, NCR is playing with various artists and covering classic acts. Tonight, Suzie Ungerleider (Oh Susanna) has joined for a set of Rolling Stones tunes. But first, inspired by all that country balladry, she went back in her discog all the way to 1999 for You'll Always Be. With just some light guitar picking and a rich, resonant voice, she silenced the bar talkers. In fact, her own songs were the highlights. The remaining set of countrified covers (Honky Tonk Woman, No Expectations, Dead Flowers) were enjoyable but forgettable. The one tune that kept its punch was the sexist Under My Thumb played "straight" as a rock number. As Ungerleider pointed out, "now it's back to the misogyny" though she wryly admitted to picking the song. But with her on lead, with a bit of winking vamp, and a lot of swagger, she made it work.