Everybody Wants Free II

The week-end of free stuff continued. On Sunday, I headed over to Hey Meatballs! on College for, no surprise, some spaghetti and meatballs. They were having some kitchen issues resulting in a longer than normal wait for me. So they gave me some extra meatballs. Given the standard serving which is already enormous, this was a lot of meat. All very delicious, but it was a vegetarian dinner that night to balance things out.

Then it was off to the 660th Hart House concert on the University of Toronto campus. Recent Eckhart-Gramatte winner, Everett Hopfner, was playing some modern piano compositions. Oddly, the intimating sounding Hallucinations (Randolph Peters) was reasonably melodious with only slight descents into cacophony. Kotoka Suzuki's Hidden Voice, which supposedly contained quotations from classical pieces, was noisier. As an classical music amateur, I didn't recognize the shout-outs. It was easier with Douglas Finch's Preludes and Afterthoughts, in which he rearranged and reworked Chopin's well-known Preludes. The least modified passages were the most pleasing in retaining their charm.

I left after intermission for the final Pedestrian Sunday in Kensington Market. Some observations. One, Heavy Metal wankery only appeals to aging metal-heads, not anyone younger than 30. If two makes a trend, then Asian dudes on didgeridoo accompanied by Latin polyrhythm is a trend. Finally, Heavyweight Brass Band can really get the toes tapping. But $20 for a CD? Come on. Not even established acts charge that much, and indie bands usually price it around $10.

Everybody Wants Free

It turns out Friday was a day of getting free stuff, good and bad. Local yoga studio Octopus Garden celebrated their anniversary by hosting all free classes. So I was able to get my om on for the low price of $0. In the evening, as I was heading out to a concert, I was accosted by a middle-aged couple with a sob story about the woman going into "sugar-shock". I have seen and heard their scam before and wasn't swayed. Unfortunately further up the road, two separate couples were fleeced. One actually pulled out his wallet (so we were talking "real" money not just coins.) What some people will do for some free cash.

But on to more pleasant news. Local rock band The Balconies was hosting an invite-only party to preview their new album. I was able to score some free tickets via a promotional website. The Moniker Gallery sat just off Richmond and Queen. The acoustics weren't great, but the rented sound system was adequate. The corporate sponsors were providing free beer, though you were encouraged to tip the bartenders.

First up was Taylor Knox, an indie-pop band headed by the eponymous Knox. This trio played a bouncy groove with some gritty guitars on songs like Fire and Family Colours. With long, straggly hair and a laconic voice, the singer reminded me of Christopher Owens (Girls).

Just after 10 pm, The Balconies bounded up on stage primarily dressed in black. Over the 10 songs set, they would play high-energy and loud music with lots of hooks and catchy refrains. Jacquie was her usual crazy self: whipping her hair around, and dancing all over the stage. With a second guitarist, she was free to gesticulate and point more often. Some of their songs were a bit overlong but the partisan crowd loved both new tunes (Boys and Girls, Good and Ugly) and re-worked favourites (300 Pages, The Slo, Kill Count). As an appropriate nod to her female progenitors, the first encore song was an excellent cover of Crazy On You (Heart).

Have A Heart

Thursday night at the Great Hall, country singer Lindi Ortega had her album release party. There was already a good crowd at 9 pm for opener North Cote. The hirsute singer had a gruff voice and sang songs that sat somewhere between new country and indie rock. He reminded me of Tom Cochrane in his delivery and material. Most songs mined personal experiences whether back in his hometown of Regina (Counting Down The Days), working in a casino in Victoria BC (A Thousand Nights) or the death of his grandfather (Wheels). I appreciated the quiet honesty but the arrangements were forgettable.

Lindi Ortega started her set with Tin Star, off her new album of the same name. A personal reflection on her struggle to break into the music business in Nashville ("No billboard hits//No sold out nights"). Perhaps it was her parents in the balcony, but she admitted to being a bit emotional at the end of the song. Her Parton-esque quaver served her well on old numbers which leaned country (Cigarettes and Truckstop). The new songs had country tunes, too (Waitin' On My Luck To Change) but some carried more of a rock sound (Voodoo Mama, I Want You). She ventured over to the piano for two ballads: Songs About and a cover of Desperado. James Robertson kept the set lively with his wide range of lead guitar techniques from slide guitar, rockabilly picking, growling rock, or atmospheric pedal effects.

Future Tense

I don't usually go to Kool Haus, the cavernous club down by the lake, as the shows tend to cater to thousands and the sound system more suited to club beats. But I ventured down on Saturday to see Janelle Monae on her Electric Lady tour.

I was pleasantly surprised by the mix for opener Kae Sun. Every instrument sounded clear and pristine for his set. A Ghanaian-Canadian singer, his catchy songs wandered between reggae and pop. Though there were a few R'n'B love songs, his music concerned itself primarily with social issues (Lion on a Leash, Black Star Rising). His closing Weh Weh, a joyous "pidgin English" protest song was both danceable and thoughtful.

Unfortunately, for Janelle Monae's set, the volume was cranked up, turning the music into a heavy bludgeon without much subtlety. Monae's soaring vocals became painful screeches. I thought that it was my proximity to the stage but looking around, I saw lots of enthusiastic acknowledgement for her songs but not much joyful dancing (even for popular Tight Rope). The music retained its power, but did not groove. What a waste of her eclectic and funky oeuvre.

However, Janelle Monae was an assured performer. She carried the black and white stage colours into her wardrobe from Polo-esque pants and shirt, to striped leather jackets, and even a Varsity-style bomber with a large M on the front. Monae danced, strutted, jived, did several call-and-responses, got the audience to kneel down, and even crowd-surfed from the stage to the back of the packed venue. The only time she was still was in the beginning when she, wrapped tight in a strait-jacket, was wheeled on stage by egg-head scientists/handlers. A dangerous creation? No doubt.