Discorder CITR-FM (Radio station : Vancouver, B.C.) 2004-07-01

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 il  DiSCORDER,    JUjLY'U*
$LM \ ^ ISSUE 253/ ■ JULY 2004
editrix                                   FEATURES
KatSiddle .
The Pink Mountaintops p.l 1
Tommy February6 p.l2
Jason Bennet
Farewell, MlKidy p. 13
Suicide Gtrl^^^»'\|^L
, Graeme Worthy
Mutek P-t4-J|t
Ridley Bent p.U
Dale Davies
SusyW^bb/;'                      REGULARS
Pr°n^^1 ^ilisJ^*** P*^
Vampyra Draculea
Fucking Bul^rap^p^i
Strut, Fret ^PSliirap'
|^}udry; ^^HrlSl'^8
Real Live Aj^^^ffirJ^p
Jason Bennet
j^fp&jsrjljelly Day
xp' Vanapy^wsirciculea
Under Rev^^p^O
Susy ^^{kirida}
Charts pJK
Graeme tfotihf'iHjf
Gravy Fi'te^»^®^]^^^SrtS^
1     Dale Davies
On The Dt<B22 j|£
$ggp§$iddle    ■
i     Kimberly Day
§.w!^|ifnpyrci Draculea
Niall McClelland drew this month's
totally dreamy and masturbation-worthy
cover. In his own words: "I'm a freelance
illustrator, my bike wheel was stolen from
Bryce Dunn
outside my studio yesterday, 1 have
to walk everywhere now and it sucks.
Come see my show Alone at the Worry
•  S Luke Meat
Hut Social Club at the Crying Room on
July 23rd with Lukas Giniotis and Robin
Cameron." Bring extra bike wheels to
•     Kat Siddle
the gallery, located at Main & Cordova.
Susy Webb
Liquor will be available behind the bar,
crack will be available outside {down
Matt Steffich
the alley to the left).
Frankie'RtfrfvBletone            THAN
jncan McHu^j       Michelle Mayne
PUBLISHER                                   *M;|vl<
arwuar                ^'-vF^ Walters
®^^d^"j^asemola                     W
Ison Wong          ^^^Nl^^P^
Pllf^?iW Local fens, promoters,
jffKafrv  and musicians have listed:
5175 Shows (4O0')> upcoming at any given time)
1015 Band or Musician profiles
475 Music resource profiles
A Free Monster Database of the Music Scene
 Log on, or phone 604-871-0477 for info
Thursday July 8
Richard's on
with The R.A.D.I.O.
DJ My! Gay! Husband!
Tix @ Zulu, Scratch, Red Cat.
- -IfeWwown Pleasures
© DiSCORDER 2004 by the Student Radio Society of the University of British' Columbia. Alt rights i
reserved. Circulation 17,500. Subscriptions, payable in advar^i^s Canadian residents are $15 for
one year, to residents of fhe USA dre^l5'tfS:j$2*4 CDN elsewh«jre|$ingle copies are $2 (to cover
postage). Please make cheques or money orders payabtefjgipCORDER Magazine. DEADLINES:
Copy deadline for the August issuelMlyly J 6, seriously this time.'-Ad^pQc&fs available until July 24
and,can be booked by calling Jason at 604.822.3017 ext. 3,;OurT^^S,pre available upon request.
DiSCORDER is not responsible for loss, damage, or any other injury to unsolicited manuscripts,
unsolicited artwork (including, but not-limiled to drawings, photographs, and transparencies),
or any other, unsolicited material. Material can be submitte^^rt'siisc or in type. As always,
English is preferred, but we will accept French. Actually, we jMQ&t. Send email to DiSCORDER
at c^sccfderSclub^ams.ujbc.cdiFrorri UBC to Langley and Squamish to Bellingham, CiTR can be
heard at 101.9 fM as.vyelte^fesjgfjQll major cable systemsjj&tjj&jj^wet Mainland, except Shaw
#1^^^^^KSSS^^^^^I^822 2487, our office at®2,30'%J?r 2SrtW*»*Poihd sports lines
?f^82^&r^©^^ppx'us at 822.9364, e-mail us at: citrmgr@rridljrjrjnpJbSiCcr, visit our web site at
www.citr.ca or just pick up a goddamn pen and write #233-6T38SJ6$vd,£yancouver, BC, V6T
1Z1, CANADl^y^f^^
CARoWmARK THE BUnLESS chaps the smugglers
I^BI;WWBff»J.|J.liJ,Ukl.l.lJ.ll[.iU:UiJ.Uiil,.,l,.l.ll.l.J.!HJ.I..I  DiSCORDER,   J U L Y ' 0 4
3nmh (ne 2)e^ <*|.,
From the Desk of Near-Disaster
No, this is not a handful of Kleenex: this is a very
short issue of DiSCORDER Magazine.
For the last four years, DiSCORDER has been
exceeding its budget. Printing a magazine isn't
cheap, and CiTR's much-needed funds have
been invested in keeping our little rag afloat. I
mean, its not like this thing makes any money, or
ever will. Last week, the AMS informed DiSCORDER
staff that we have six months to st6p hemorrhaging
money like a third-trimester miscarriage. Or else.
Their words, I swear. DiSCORDER now aspires to
the lofty goal of losing less money, or (omigod)
breaking even.
We're doing all we can to save. Graeme
stopped using fifties to light his cigarettes, and
when that didn't work, we confiscated Dale's
"DiSCORDER" business-account credit card and
made him return the giant mahogany tiki-heads.
Susy stopped commuting back and forth to
Abbotsford in the CiTR Hummer. I even took to
paying for our performance-enhancing drugs out
of my own pocket.
When none of this made any difference,
we took a look at our ad-to-content ratios. And
then we said, "Holy shit, this is going to be a short
Our financial demons have led us down a
dark path.. We had to drop an alarming number
of pages from this issue. Real Live Action and
Under Review were razed. Entire stories were
thrown to the wind. We had to make some difficult
I know that the absolute LAST thing you
expected from DiSCORDER was more chaos and
inconsistency. But please don't worry: this state
of affairs is temporary. Next month's issue will be
longer. And better. Because, believe it or not, we
actually know what we're doing now. And there's
lots of exciting changes on the way.
In the meantime, we're going fo use our
website to publish all the reviews and stories that
we can't afford to print. Look for a revamped
site that looks the same, but functions better in a
couple of weeks. *s®tlSSSS
Apologies to all writers whose stories were
shortened or scrapped outright. Apologies to
people who sent us their albums but didn't see
the reviews. Apologies to people who thought this
issue would be as luxuriously full of content as the
To summarize the lost material: go see crazy
cellist Jorane July 16/17 at the Vancouver Folk
Festival, before she releases an English-language
album and gets all popular and stuff. And if you
play the Von Bondies' Pawn Shoppe Heart during
Shrek 2. you'll get something even better than
Dark Side Of the Rainbow.
There's still lots of goodies 'tween these here
pages: our new comic, "Gravy-Filled French Fries;"
a new installation of "Finding Joy;" and a bit on a
Japanese band you will never be able to see live,
and whose albums you'll never afford!
And read every single one of our amazing ads,
and then go out and buy the stuff and see the
shows so we can get more! Ads that is.
Until next month, Kat D
"I go to a lot of parties. Well, not that many
considering the hundreds of invitations from all
around the world that I get. I don't even like
parties. I just go to them because I'm a nice
person. I try to support people by making a
stunning appearance. Basically, people swarm
me once I appear, and then they start asking
me lots of questions. The most common question
is "So, what do you do?" People have trouble
understanding my lifestyle, so they want me to
explain it to them in a single word. Well, I'll tell
you: I'm an artist.
I was born an artist and I will die an artist. I may
be the best guitar player in the world, but I'm not
a "musician." I may take beautiful photographs
of my beautiful friends with sad expressions on
their faces but I'm not a "photographer." Every
now and then, I may create pencil drawings of
birds and bottles of beer, but I'm no "illustrator."
I'm a fucking ARTIST. You carl see it in my exotic
eyes, in my movement, in my hairstyle. Its as clear
as the days are long. (I'm not a "poet" either,
believe it or not.)
The next question people always ask is "What
kind of artist?" I've told you what I am not. I will
tell you what I have been: I was (in the following
order) a Leninist, Futurist, Symbolist, Fauvist,
Stalinist, Scientologist, Surrealist, Impressionist,
Phishist, Naturalist, Classicist, Dadaist,
Neoclassicist, Flautist, Constructivist, Romanticist,
Physicist, Realist, Marxist, and Punk. The twists
and turns of my short but amazing life have led
to one conclusion: Trioxidism is the only true art.
Therefore I am everything and only a Trioxidist.
, Trioxidism is real because it is not fake. It is truth
because you can lie. It is free because you may
not stick your dong in young children. Trioxidism
cannot be defined, only expressed. Trioxidism is
not a trend. There is no special diet, no length of
pant. It is not exclusive, only selective.
I know few Trioxidists besides myself. But it is a
circular wave, and there is hope to experience
it at the Miriam Goodfellow Gallery, 69 Rue du
Temple, New York, NY from July 16 - August 29,
and also at 1121 Robson Street, Vancouver, BC
(dates TBA; check venue for details) throughout
the summer.
You may not understand it, but you will feel
it. You may not understand me, but you will be
trying to feel me. There is, however, no touching
or cats in Trioxidism. I don't know for sure, though.
I'll have to check. D    ^llfsilsl
this here is the new cure album
this here is a smattering of
Beastie Boys albums
The DiSCORDER has recently decided to allow ourselves to offer promotional materials. This means
that you, dear reader, may be eligable to recieve one of the following four items.
1. The complete Beastie Boys discography, including perhaps some dvd stuff
2. The new Cure album
3. A Cure button
4. A Cure t-shirt.
I know, you want that button. Anyways, you can get that button or one of those other things by sending 5 shreddies box-tops or reasonable handdrawn facsimiles to.
233-6838 SUB Boulevard
Vancouver BC V6T2A5
First come, first serve. When we run out, tough cookies.
TANG1ERS (suncdo&3)
ShevAtom You Pleasure ^ 1|eCB^
iRAISlNSrHE FAWN The North Sea
V.r^LW„8, 8 new colons ^^S^Z^^
,Crp^9i«-£^ AiternativePress
ANDRE ETHIER (suncdow)
with Christopher Sandes featuring Pickles & Price
wwrw.sonicunyon.com  nisr. ORDER.    TULY'04
With summer in full swing, I don't need to
remind you audiophiles out there to take care
extra care with your vinyl cat — stay cool, stay
dry and everything will be A-OK. That said,
we'll keep this month's foray into the oasis of
waxy wonderment brief and relaxing, so as not
put any undue stress on your already sweat-
soaked brow and my sweat-drenched fingers.
'Course my fingers had gotten considerably
sweatier once the new Dirtbombs/Adult split
single came my way.
Being a big fan of Mick and Co., I knew
I was in for something either incredibly
beautiful or incredibly strange. I mean,
consider the outcome: an electroclash duo
covering the rock 'n' soul of Detroit's finest?
Well, apparently there's more to this single
than meets the eye — both groups are from
Detroit, both cover each other's tunes, and
both bands shot the cover photos of each
other, and shared the release responsibilities.
Whew! It better be damn good — and it is.
The Dirtbombs tackle an early Adult song,
"Lost Love" to almost Kraftwerkian perfection,
as Mick's voice is tempered to near robotic
tones, but the drumming duo of Ben and Pat
keep it grooving.
Adult take on a relatively obscure
Dirtbombs track "Pray For Pills", which was
released on an Australian tour seven inch (long
time readers of this column, yeah all two-of
you, will remember I reviewed this way back),
but the result is pretty much what I expected;
rigid drum machine backed with spooky
vocals, but still bouncy and toe-tappin'. From
what I gather this was pressed in very limited
quantity, so perhaps only the purists will seek
this out, but I look forward to the Goldfrapp/
Greenhomes split coming soon... just kidding.
(Ersatz Audio P.O. Box 02713 Detroit Ml USA
Perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon or
hell, just about any summer afternoon is
The Swansea Mass, a quartet from Chicago
named after their guitarist's hometown. The
two songs, debuted here are "Silver Venus",
which brings to mind the dreamy psyche
tendencies of Outrageous Cherry, and the
flipside "Chessy", which could have been
plucked from the Elephant Six Collective's
back pocket; think the effervescent Apples
In Stereo meets the morose Jesus And Mary
Chain. The caricatures of the group on the
cover allude to them being some sort of
white-hooded cult, but just to be on the safe
side, don't be drinking that kool-aid offered to
you. (Loud Devices, loud-devices.com).
If it's a heart attack you want, look not to
grape kool-aid, but to the strangely named
XBXRX, a collective of musicians based in
Oakland, California. Their latest offering is
a cardiac arrest set to the tone of sonic
revolution: four blasts of intense noise-core on
a one-sided, blood-red coloured single, with
a simple message scrawled on the record's
label: "We Hate The President", and a deeper
message scrawled on the asphalt by a young
girl on the cover. I'll leave it to you to find out
what it says, and for that matter, deciphering
the words to the songs, but all I can say is:
"Take that, Georgie!" (Namack Records, 381
Broadway, 4th Floor #3 New York, N.Y. USA
Our last serving of seven inch comes
from some troublemakers from Portland,
Oregon known as The Observers. Four tracks
of SoCal-influenced punk rock — at least
the production makes it feel that way — like
listening to Channel 3 or T.S.O.L. back in the
day, with lyrics dealing with fitting in, not fitting
in and the like on tracks such as "Lead Pill" and
"Can't Be Sad". I liked the drum'solo in "Short
Day", that's punk rock. Man, Portland can
do no wrong these days, with so many good
bands to choose from, add The Observers to
that list. (Super Secret Records P.O. Box-1585
Austin, TX USA 78767).
Well, get out there and enjoy the summer
while it lasts, and we'll see you next month
with a fresh batch! D
now accepting entries, send       SHINDIG! 2004
your min. 3 song demo to: c/o CiTR Radio
#233-6138 SUB Blvd.
Vancouver, BC V6T 1Z1
Questions? Interested in becoming a
sponsor? For more information please visit
http://shindig.citr.ca You can also call
Duncan at (604)822-1242 or email Ben at
benlai@citr.ca the new album, featuring the singles
also available...
specially priced
$Oto'to8tt^s«tMi%WftBtaBK»VU^ DiSCORDER,   JULY'04
Friday, June 18, 3:12am, Barcelona
—contents under pressure
I've been reading Anselm Jappe's book on Guy
Debord. Debord was the prime mover behind
the Situationists throughout their 10 years of
existence from 1958-1968. Centred in Pass, the
critical yet creative publications of the Situationist
International in part spurred the uprising of May '68,
leading to what we know today as culture jamming
and hacktivism. The SI investigated if not invented
concepts of detournement (altering existing
slogans, images, representations) and the derive
(a form of "drifting" the city, of psychogeography
and of radical intervention in the flows of urban
planning and architecture). Jappe renders a
specific observation of Debord: he only wrote
what he wanted, at his own pace, and never on
'•demand. He never wrote for an editor or at the
behest of anyone else. His book Society of the
Spectacle, some 200 odd theses, was written far
from the pressure of publishers or.publicity agents.
[Ah, Tobias, you can only dream... - Ed.]
Last year, this magazine published an article I
wrote on that little Spanish electronic music festival
i known as Sonar. My writing unfolded in (mock)
gonzo fashion, miming the energy of not only
Sonar's overwhelming heat (it was dangerously
hot last year), but the crowds, the hedonism, the
attitude, the absynthe. Gonzo is a "genre" of
writing that mixes the elements of documentary
(think Michael Moore) with the flavour of a critical
auteur (Think Lars von Trier). And like von Trier, one
often abuses the actors to sketch exaggerated
characters of the everyday. Like a surrealist
painting, it is through gross distortion that a
glimmer of the grotesque can be viewed in all its
normality—and banality. And, one would hope,
its humour.
Gonzo is a style—but more than that, an
irrepressible way of life—pioneered by '60s
counterculture writer Hunter S. Thompson. Beyond
being a drugged, dangerous journalist (all too
often, his only contemporary image), Thompson
is also deadly serious. His cutting wit, barbed
commentary and incisive maneouvres of the pen
all serve the age-old tradition of the wordsmith:
the knife of the question, the perspective of two
thousand years (if not more) of cultural baggage
to weigh the actions of the present. With force
ancLpunch. The mocking not only of tradition but
of the official byline that runs, incessantly, like an
automatic answering machine. There is something
of Debord in Thompson, and vice-versa: an
articulation of the structures of contemporary
times. Or in more Thompsonian terms, of the beasts
that carve out evil in the heart of society. Fear and
Gonzo is not mere cinema verite—it claims no
truth (fiction, writes Thompson, is often more true).
It knows no strict boundaries of what is considered
"fair game." It requires lived experience. It often
calls for altered states to achieve this difference
in perspective that turns the mundane into the
fantastic, the carnivalesque, the horrific. (CiTR's
own Nardwuar the Human Serviette is in many
ways a true heir to this tradition—although straightedge.)
This Sonar article nearly landed me without
press credentials. I was originally denied
accreditation for this year's Sonar. I wrote back.
asking why—I've been writing on electronic music,
media and culture for close to a decade, and I
already had plane tickets booked, so I figured a bit
of an explanation was owed. Sonar responded by
granting me accreditation, as well as a request to
discuss the situation with them... which is where I slip
into gonzo... a very nervous situation, sitting down
with the press director of Sonar, in charge of some
800 plus press corps, and trying to contextualize
the aims of such writing for an organisation that is
an industry, and a culture that, according to a few
of my good Spanish and Catalonian friends, has
never known a counterculture... And me: a smalltime "journalist" with pretentions to claiming that
journalism can act as a tool to express other forms
of meaning in popular formats (like this one).
They're still very worried. Accreditation was
denied because of the article written. Which
worries me. Can I write freely here? I am, and I have
made the choice to think about it aloud, here in this
month's Panarticon. Not as a sensationalist ploy or
a lame vendetta (far from it), but to exemplify the
parameters under which most writing is performed
today. Writing that, in the past, from the pen
kO^ThbrBpsbn, or say Tom Wolfe, was thekprwo^
vitriol of a generational insurgence. Today, at the
heart of "underground" music—across almost all
genres—it is incredibly difficult to find writers willing
to write.
Should I be writing about this? Does it even
surprise anyone and does anyone even really give
a shit?
That's a different question. Today it's more or
less the point that the question never even occurs
to most "journalists." It is the perogative of Sonar's
Press Director to worry about what is written. But
it is the responsibility of the journalist to cover not
only the hyped music of the moment, but the
atmosphere in which we respond to it. Create it.
Question it. If more journalists did this—the ethic
of investigative journalism—global culture might
develop a sense of involvement rather than
accepting its role as a (mostly) passive consumer
of entertainment. Music is not television and it
shouldn't be.
There were hundreds of thousands of people at
the 1970 Isle of Wight Music Festival. Almost double
Woodstock, and a documentary crew covered
the entire thing—from backstage drugs, organiser
stress and payola to police beatings and hippie
hypocrisy (the absolute trashing of the land, for
example). Today, such a documentary would be
almost impossible to film. Real access, unfettered
access, is a pipe-dream. The ideal of exposing
the moment not for the contemporary but for the
future is all but buried in the paranoia that controls
the spectacle of the now. As Debord writes with
such prescience, images must be perpetuated to
form the real, the real being representations that
sell. This process is largely-not of an elite cabal's
making but operates independently, a machine
unto itself. The Press Director worries that she
hasn't done her job properly, and that this is why
I have written what I have—as if it was personal.
It is this perspective that is already a function of a
system that demands personal investment in the
propagation of one-way, transmitted imagery.
It is always personal... in the sense that it is
the person waking up to the historical flow that
unhinges the boulder, loosing the rolling thunder...
a sudden flash flood.
Until thenl D
Western Theatre Conspiracy
Omniscience «,*". "*^°j^J
Wednesday 2 June
Performance Works
Our worst fears about high-tech authoritarianism
are being borne out so rapidly that science
fictionalizing them has become quite superfluous.
By setting Omniscience in a near future complete
with sleek, minimalist decor and a bit of Star Trek
gadgetry, Tim Carlson has prevented his hyper-
relevant play from landing as hard as it could
There's nothing terribly futuristic about the
plot: Warren, a film editor at the state-controlled
media outlet, has been assigned to work on a
documentary about insurrection in a rebel territory.
Increasingly baffled by cryptic footage from his
war correspondent buddy Paul, he's hard put to
give it the "correct" spin—particularly since Paul is
suspected of defection. Guilt by association and
circumstantial evidence soon land Warren on the
government's hit list. Meanwhile, his soldier wife
Anna has returned from active combat with a dirty
little secret and a serious case of post traumatic
stress disorder. Beth, the company shrink, tries in
vain to keep the couple's psyches cruising along
smoothly while she herself is leaned on by an
intelligence heavy named George.
Because her engagement in the politics of
war is so immediate, Anna is the most grounded
character—and Nicole Leroux played her with
explosive invention. Anna's battlefield epiphany
may have left her a pill-popping wreck, but
Leroux gives the impression that without it, she'd
probably be walking prisoners on a leash. As
Beth and George, Jennifer Clement and Craig
March were sometimes too consciously hard-
boiled in their delivery, but the dynamic between
scientific objectivity and a thuggish, power-mad
administration was nicely observed. Warren was
more of a problem. The story revolved around
him, but he was much too weak to warrant the
attention and Camyar Choi's hangdog portrayal
only made things worse.
The real hero was Paul—a character who never
appeared onstage—and thanks to video designer
Flick Harrison, the AWOL correspondent became
a symbol of independent journalism's potential for
counter-spin and subversion. Eloquent, complex
and frightening in their implication, Harrison's
contributions were the production's biggest asset.
Though billed as a dystopian thriller.
Omniscience didn't so much show where we're
headed, as remind us of where we already
are. Carlson handles the material with a tough,
desperate intelligence, and the futuristic gloss
forced a distance that just wasn't necessary. D
Okay, they look like
a bunch of dorky little
freaks right now, but
seriously, before you
know it The Penguins
are gonna be about the
m? hottest guys in town.
*» I mean, they're already
■» in bands and they're
5 TEN! Give them 2 years.
5 Uh, I mean, 5 years.
Look who's turning ten this yearl It's July Fourth Toilet—and they're inviting you to their
birthday celebration at the dear old barn in East Van. Seems like only yesterday that I first saw them
at the Columbia doing a Southern-fried rock show. They would have been about two then. How
time flies.
All of the Toilet's shows ooze an odd combination of looseness and control that one
normally associates with pagan revival meetings or family sing-alongs. Otherwise, each one
is completely unique. Even so, their tenth anniversary performance should be especially
groundbreaking. It will involve an 18-stro'ng, costumed ensemble playing Rock Fantasy, a
1975 children's concept album from K-Tel.
The troupe has been rehearsing extensively for this gig—since February, in fact. Equally
unprecedented will be the addition of an all-ages show for children and families. And then
there's opening act. The Penguins—a quintet of 10-12 year-old musicians who play classic
and contemporary rock covers along with some originals!
July Fourth Toilet founders Robert Dayton and Julian Lawrence will share the stage with
a cavalcade of Toilet regulars and special guests. Among the former will be Big Hamm,
Susan Box, Clancy Dennehy and Jody Franklin, while the latter will include actor/comedian
Paul Anthony, Buy Nothing Day founder Ted Dave, cartoonist Robin Konstabaris and singer-
songwriter Mark Szabo.
If you're wondering, "Whatever shall I wear to this party?", consider that Rock Fantasy is a
rock'n'roll musical set in a land where animals are people and people are the animals.
Rock Fantasy is at the WISE Hall on Friday 23 July. All-ages show at 5pm/Grown-up show (in a
manner of speaking) at 9pm. Tickets—available at Scratch and Zulu—are $8 for adults and $5
forsprogs (13 and under).  DiSCORDER,   JULY* 0 4
f% v !'
Does sex permeate music or the other way around? Where
does one end and the other begin? As you may already
know, dancing inevitably leads to sex. Really. This is true. So
true that many fundamentalist Christian organizations have
decreed an all-out ban on dancing. Feel free to take a trip
to Abbotsford and see for yourself. Only hymns or Christian
Rock are allowed, and the only thing you can do to that shit
is worship and awkwardly sway.
Though I don't think the anti-dancing crew is on the right
track, the correlation is clear. Music is conducive to sex as sex
is conducive to music. Both celebratejcieativity, humanity
and freedom. Channeling the divine, they expose us to new
ways of being and thinking, higher peaks dt pfj^sure and
pain. Both encourage us to engage with others/the world
and ourselves in exciting and terrifying new ways. Sex and
music are fundamental parts of humanity that cannot be
replaced; only altered and re-contextualized, changing
across different cultures and time periods, but serving the
same essential purposes.
Apart from spiritual meanderings, there are many
practical reasons to combine music and sex. The most salient
example involves limited space and the proximity of friends,
family or roommates. While many of us prefer making our
own beautiful music, courtesy often forces, us to use music as
a cover-up. We all know that "listening to music" is basically a
universal code for "making out".
Different types of music create different moods and can
drastically alter a sexual experience. You know you're in for
pussy-licking of your life when the boyfriend drops the needle
on Sonic Youth's Daydream Nation. In the same way, you
know to put your panties back on and call a cab when that
guy you met at the bar double-clicks on the Dave'Motthews
The power of sex makes it an essential marketing tool,
and artists and music corporations exploit it accordingly.
Britney Spears epitomizes this at it's very worst. The bitch can't
sing worth shit, but that virgin/whore image sells damn fine.
Boy bands are another example; their sterilized offerings of
eternal love are perfectly geared to the culturally implanted
desires of pre-teen hetero girls.
Then there is fhe rarest and greatest kind of sex music.
Music that gets you genuinely enthused about sex for all the
right reasons. Music that incorporates technical skill with raw,
compelling lyrics to elicit feelings that we all wish could last
forever. Music that observes the beauty, spontaneity and
sanctity of sex.
Enter Vancouver's own Pink Mountaintops. With a little
help from his friends. Black Mountain (formerly Jerk with a
Bomb) frontman Stephen McBean wrote and recorded the
•self-titled debut album in an astonishing three weeks. The
joy and ecstasy that went into this record are clear. Steve's
vocals blend together with Ashley Webber's like the perfect
simultaneous orgasm. No song has ever made me as horny
as "Sweet '69". The intuitively primal percussion and blatant
yet enticing lyrics had me and everyone I played it for
positively seething with sexual energy. Every song on the
album exudes a playful, celebratory understanding of sex
and intimacy. One doesn't want to just get laid after listening
to this music. I want love dammitl I want it all. Apparently, so
do the Pink Mountaintops. And with a debut like this, they're
sure to get it.
Over beers in an east-side park, Steve and I discussed
love, sex, touring and music history...
Given that you guys sort of fit into the random mix of sex
music, how do you feel about the genre as a whole?
Well, we're not specifically about sex, it just turned out that
way. It's more of just a celebration of being who you are and
doing what you want to do. Having fun.
How did it just sort of "happen that way"?
Well, Jerk with a Bomb was on tour last summer and we
had just toyed with the idea of changing our name to Black
Mountain, which we eventually did. I believe the initial
concept came up when we were driving through the Rockies
to Colorado, drinking Red Bull and taking ephedrine to stay
awake and listening to Pink Floyd's The Final Cut and then
Pink Mountaintops popped into my head as a great name
for a rock 'n' rod band.
From that, we were on tour and the whole myth of the rock
'n' roll tour lifestyle is a farce. Well, at least to me it is. 'Cause
I have my lover that I love, I'm with her, and that's that. So,
I was missing her and I started writing songs in my head at
rest stops, took notes, and then came back and wrote and
recorded the record in about three weeks. It just all kind of
came out. Certain songs that weren't necessarily about sex
, sort of morphed into being about sex in other ways. There
were a few songs like "Bad Boogie Ballin'" that were laying
around for a while and it kind of took on a new meaning with
the Pink Mountaintops as opposed to if it had been a Black
Mountain or JWAB song. Songs like "Sweet '69", which you
can think the obvious meaning, but its also the year I was
born in, and a celebration of the music that was coming out
at that time, sort of an ode to it so to speak.
So sort of a fusion of past stuff, present feelings and Ideas
about love in general?
Yeah, and to say "Sweet '69" is liberating. I think music has
gone through all kinds of important phases, whether its
protest music or just for the hell of it music. It seems like now
its at a point where you can meld the two, protest and fun,
into one thing, with the state of the world as it is. Generally,
you might want to talk to the people who make protest kind
of music and you want to party with the badasses. Now you
can sort of do both.
Definitely. So was it just that the concept was so different from
your normal stuff that you needed a new name?
Yeah, we were tiring of the name JWAB, with all the catch
phrases people would apply to that. The music was changing
drastically. With the Pink Mountaintops I just wanted
something that was quick and honest and documented and
done: pure. I didn't worry about anything, it just came out. I
was having fun writing songs in my room, and I think it turned
out okay.
It must be so much fun to get up on stage and sing about
giving head and alt that fun stuff.
That's what it is, its about fun. There's that whole genre of
shock rock crap like the Mentors and whatnot, singing about
sex in a way that's really derogatory towards women. And
then there's other sides, singing about it in a liberatory way.
It's fun, there's no harm.
What kind Of reaction have you got so far, from new fans and
old school JWAB devotees?
It's been good. A bunch of people hugged me after various
shows on the tour, they were excited. That's all you can
wish for. That people have a good time and they leave with
something to take home and carry on with their lives.
Is the album a cut and dry deal? Will we see more from the
Pink Mountaintops?
It'll continue, but it more than likely won't be about sex. It's
not going to be sex band or whatever. Musically, I'll probably
keep the same vibe but I'm sure the subject matter will
What's your favourite music to get excited about love/sex,
etc.? What kind of music really gets you in the mood?
Well, the last record I had sex to was Black Sabbath
Volume IV. It was perfect. It all depends on the mood, but
at that point, Volume (V was perfect. Old stuff like Serge
Gainsbouroug too, the album with Jane Birkin is about as
sexy as it can get. I really have a thing for Missy Elliott's...not
the new album, the one before [Under Construction, 2002]. I
can't remember what it's called. It's a great album. D For the last three months I have been listening to
Tommy February6 almost exclusively. Friends have
become concerned and are planning some sort of
intervention involving a white van, a chair, a video screen,
and Creed videos on repeat. The secret they don't know
is that I'm so far gone down this path that nothing short
of lobotomy would quell my interest—and even then it
would still be a great reason to throw a party. Everyone
can dress up as doctors and nurses. It would just be like
the Danielson Famile without the religious subtext and
Much -pondering has lead me to the conclusion that-
I'm not obsessing per se. I've merely reached a point in
my life where I have discovered the perfect music and
really, truly don't need to listen to anything else. I'm done.
I can look you in eyes with the kind of offsetting stare
indicative of murderers and federal NDP candidates and
tell you that Tommy February6 satisfies every single musical
need that I have in my body. Who needs other music
when you've found something so close to perfection that
everything else seems so boring?
Tommy February6 is the project of Kawase Tomoko.
She has put out two albums and several singles under
the Tommy February6 persona. It is a persona. There's
no disguising that her day job so-to-speak is with a band
called The Brilliant Green where she is joined by her
husband. She also spends time in another side project
called Tommy Heavenly6 but that's a little too Avril for me
to feel comfortable talking about. Let's move on.
Tommy is a hard sell in North America. Its difficult to say
if the Western world is ready for shimmering late-'80s style
dance pop as opposed to the current crop of ultra-slutty
R' n' B tinged pop. I could make arguments on the entire
Britney vs. Christina debate but I'll save that for another
article. Go Britney!    -   ".'
Tommy February6 is more closely aligned with other
classic pop acts. I'm talking Bananarama. I'm talking
Debbie Gibson. I'm fucking talking "Locomotion"-era
Kylie and not in the ironic, saux-cool Electroclash '80s
throwback kind of way. Fuck that noise. No, this music is
for people who think that Belinda Carlisle was better off
without those Go-Go's and that Debbie Gibson was a
. child prodigy (She was. Look it up.) I really need to sit you
down and make you listen to "Heaven on Earth" or better
yet Tommy February6's "Je t'aime". Trust me, you'll come
Some may disparage this type of pop music as
vacuous and insipid. Well, like, duh! Of course it is. That's
why it's so much fun. Stop taking yourself too seriously.
Even respected pop-tunesmith Stephen Merritt's favourite
band is Abba which I'm sure he listens to quite obsessively
when not composing Chinese operas.
Full Disclosure: I'm ashamed to say that you can^t get
Tommy February6 at any local record store in Vancouver
and it's certainly not for a lack of trying on my part.
I do my best to extoll the virtues of Tommy to all I meet,
from having sit-down video watching sessions to starting
impromptu dance parties. In fact, I was the jackass who
spent damn near 75 dollars of grocery money to import
her latest record, so I'm teasing you with the inaccessible
while 1 eat beans for the fifth time this week. No, you can't
have a copy of the album. And get your fucking eyes off
my beans.
You will also not be able to see Tommy February6 playing
at any venue around town, or around this country for
that matter. One would think that someone studious and
obsessed enough would take it upon himself or herself
to arrange such a thing. I'm sure there are people out
there who would like to do so. Don't look at me; I'm too
busy playing online backgammon against "Poopsie
Paddlewack25" and "SooperDoop46". It would be a treat
Arguments against Tommy February6
The Japanese always do weird shit like this.
Counter Japan can churn out crappy music as well as any
Eurovision participant. In fact, in conjunction with Korea
and Hong Kong they are the undisputed kings of the
crappy power ballad. Don't believe me: go to any Asian
restaurant on Robson. The trick is to filter the garbage
'(Ayumi Hamasaki, M-Flo) from the good (Sugar Plant,
Luminous Orange).
Only creepy, basement-dwelling anime nerds are
into this.
Counter Okay, yes I'll relent on this point but it's only valid in
North America. However, I believe that Tommy February6
has the ability to move beyond this questionable
demographic and into far greater musical scope ranked
up there with such contemporaries as Bananarama and
This is some sort of Asian fetish thing, right? I mean,
fuck.she has cheerleaders and wears a school uniform!
Counter No, no, no, no, no, no! My admiration of beautiful
and talented women are not confined by things such
things as geography and race. Suffice to say, I believe that
there are a disproportionate amount of talented women
to men. And no, this isn't a desperate bid to curry favour
with the fairer sex. My desperation leads me to a far more
creative methodology.
Arguments for Tommy February6
This is the perfect irony-free party music.
If you absolutely, one-hundred percent have to get the
party started right now may I suggest, "Hey Bad Boy!" off
her debut album or perhaps "Magic in your eyes" from
Tommy Airline. Ears will perk up, toes will tap, and yes,
asses will shake. To test this theory, I streamed a select
few Tommy February6 songs over to the DiSCORDER office
during the production of last month's issue (Attention
litigious record company execs. I imported the album.
Fuck off.) and I have it on very good authority that they
danced like motherfuckers when "Magic in your eyes"
came on. Often times in sync. In fact, it was through these
non-stop dance sessions that I was commissioned to write
this piece as it is deemed that I am an authority on these
types of things. Really.
.The videos are great if not fantastic.
They are also they most fucking surreal things I've ever
seen: intergalactic break-dancers, ex-pat cheerleaders,
telephones that turn into cake, and wildlife completely
out of context. Dear god! Why did that cheerleader just
I recently came across sosnetJve footage while Tomoko was
touring her first album and almost stopped breathing in mid-
download. Dear god, it was the most spectacular thing I
have ever seen in my entirely inconsequential life. I, of course,
gathered everyone under duress and made them watch it.
Reactions ranged from aghast to overwhelmingly happy.
Oddly, some people were fixated upon her glasses and the
fact that very few prominent female musicians wear glasses
(with the exception of Lisa Loeb and a few others). I tried to
counter by saying that they were actually non-prescription
and part of her costume and besides, singer-songwriters aren't
real musicians anyways. D
Ladies just wanna have fun
(without the irony)!
Eric Skilling is alive and well and living in Vancouver.
He spends his evenings alone, has problems with
commitment and ugly toes. He runs a website which
can be seen at:
www.flashcube.org DiSCORDER,   JULY'0 4
Kat Siddle
Mr. Lady, one of my favourite indie labels, is calling it
quits this June. Let us have a moment of silence, please.
... [indicates silence]
Mr. Lady managed to survive for eight years. While
it never became as successful as established indies K
Records or Kill Rock Stars, this queer-feminist label lead
the way when it came to releasing music that was as
politically significant as it was danceable.
Back in 1996, Tammy Rae Carland (a videographer
and photographer) and her girlfriend Kaia Wilson
(formally of Team Dresch and now the Butchies) noticed
a lack of women and dyke-run record labels. They also
felt that there was a limited amount of affordable and
accessible means for artists to distribute their work. So
they decided to do something about it. They started a
business bank account by depositing $37 in cheques
made out to "Mr. Lady", and a record label was born.
Mr. Lady Records and Videos was overtly and
deliberately political from the start. Most of the bands
on or distributed by the San Francisco label were queer
and/or feminist. Dusty Lombardo (who replaced Wilson
as Carldnd's business partner some time ago) cites
financial reasons for the death of Mr. Lady: "The music
industry has become a really difficult place to try and
make a living." The label hopes to go out on a positive   -
note, however: "Our biggest hope is that in leaving the
label.we will open up another door for someone else to
walk through.'We are hoping to transform the website
[www.mrlady.com] into a resource point for people.
We'll try and map out how to start a label and also give
links to all the fabulous people we've gotten to work
with. This label was started by two people (and the
support of a large community) which means with a little
determination it could still be possible."
Undoubtedly, Mr. Lady's best known-act is the
label's former flagship band, Le TigM-ComposeddfW*^
Sampson, Kathleejjfianna, and Johanna Fateman, this
well-read trio taps into equal amounts of activism and
electro pop to create explosive lo-fi fun. Obsessed with
community as well as music, they list all their gear on their
website (www.letigreworid.com), hoping to encourage
more "feminist electronic bands." Fortunately for us, Le
Tigre has survived Mr. Lady. Surprisingly, they've moved
to a major label: Strummer/Universal, the imprint run by
former Capitol president Gary Gersh that is also home to
the Mars Volta and the Rapture. According to
Billboard.com, a new album can be expected in August
or September, and may include two tracks recorded with
producer Ric Ocasek. Other tracks are being engineered
by Nick Sansano, best known for his work on Sonic
Youth's Daydream Nation.
Le Tigre was scheduled to play Lollapalooza in
Auburn, Washington. But, according to
pitchforkmedia.com, the festival has been cancelled
due to poor ticket sales. (What the hell? Since when
do quality acts like PJ Harvey, The Flaming Lips, The
Polyphonic Spree, Morrissey, The Rapture and Modest
Mouse mean low ticket sales? This is becoming a very
depressing article.) Now you'll just have to go see them
with fellow Lollapalosers Sonic Youth in Portland on July
15, cause they ain't coming here any time soon. D
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IFAQ—Montreal's Mutek is an international festival of
experimental electronic music in its fifth year, consistently
curating in an intimate environment. That said, nothing is
beyond examination...
Responses to this year's Mutek are mixed fike an abysnthe
martini. Love it or hate it, Mutek 2004 was the most organized,
quality production so far. The acts displayed a level of
professionalism which was almost unbecoming. 2003 was the
.peak year, the entrance of Mutek into the global arena where
it asserted its nodal status in a network of festival cultures.
Mutek's fingers reached South America and Europe as the crew
travelled worldwide...
Over the past five years, Mutek has grown. New issues have
arisen as the assembly rolls like a juggernaut. Whether through
the panels—which were insightful, thoughtful and articulate,
blending questions of culture, the arts and industry—or in the
talk that pervades the rounds of drinks and sleep deprivation, a
sense of angst drifted alongside the slickness.
Distributors and labels have gone bankrupt; the digitization
of music and it's dissemination remain unresolved; sampling
and property law are hazy for both labels and artists; costs are
rising; and the unspoken question—is there still an audience?—
haunts every utterance. More artists than ever vented against
the current United States administration. Unsuprisingly, more
questions were raised than answered...
Where is this globalizing, "digital culture" heading? Can the
hand-wringing over distribution and pressing costs be translated
into a broader cultural recognition of economic and political
issues that exceeds the music biz? Can this self-proscribed
cutting-edge unsheath it's knives to slice through the "slick" veil
that has circumscribed almost all reflection on these issues in
the "electronic music journalism" press? Or will this niche forever
remain wrapped in it's nibbling, unaware of it's art histories? If
it thinks it is through sound, and it is through soundprojects that
encounter time. Time where digital culture is able to ponder its
own death.
Weather Report: Fragments
Mutek always hits with the heat, but this year it dropped with
thunder and drizzled the downpour. Its been a slow creep into a
week that has snuck up with punch. What would Mutek be like
this year? With the late line-up announcement, where are we
at with the digeratti, the mountain of avant-garde electronic
music and culture at 4 dots into the 21C?
Chessmachine: Richard Chartier and COH (Ivan
Pavlov). The game: pink vs. blue. Sonic chess. Microscopic
to noise. Moves and parries. At this point, sound has become
conceptual: the entirety of the performance mimes Duchamp's
chess game in New York, on the arch above the park. Low
rumbles and hard hits from Pavlov; complex rhythms and
strategies from Chartier. Increasing frustration as Pavlov gets up
from his chair. Deadpan, in his blue. Chartier, in his-pink. Each
with a coloured flag, hitting the chess timer with a mark of
combat and a gentleman's agreement.
Crammed into the SAT yesterday, for the Thinkbox
Collective from Windsor/Detroit, unwinding to the melodic loops
of techno in the breaking afternoon. Ah, techno. Forget pop—
all of pop's offerings are exciting only insofar as its horizons are
clear. Pop will and can mutate. But pop's strain is a horizon that
says: here I am, singing that same ol' song.
"Is that what people in the Civil Rights movement died for., to
dance around in malls..?"
- Herbert on Fat Boy Slim's sampling of a Civil Rights song.
The debates are stirring on the sampling panel. John
Oswald throwing down the history. Jason Forrest, a.k.a. Donna
Summer, with the straight-up take-no-prisoners aesthetic,
apparently through the perspective of semiotics. Herbert,
arguing for the sampling-of-the-worid, with a political edge
that slices into sampling the works of others—why sample other
music when we can sample anything^ Mark Quail, sound
lawyer, instructing all on how it works. Stefan Betke (aka Pole):
let the artist do what the artist does.
End to End, Techno Again.
From here sleep deprivation begins to strip everyone of the
ability to comprehend basic logic. Just yesterday I was saying:
Mutek needs some pounding hard techno. And they did it at
this free cinq-a-sept. Lead on into the world of Mike Shannon
and Jay Hunsberger, and Montreal's Martin Dumais. But also
the energetic house of Daniel Gardner, aka Frivolous, ex-
Vancouverite, who in a chef hat, rocked the piano chords in a
set that damn deserves the title—live.
Recycled Plastik: [CTRL]
Rewind nine years: Plastikman live, 1995. Transcendence.
As expectations were astronomical it follows that
disappointment was inevitable. For the record, Hawtin had two
technical difficulties—his earphones kept bugging out, and his
visuals were not working. Yet one felt that this new technological
beast he had created, this jet plane of gear surrounding his DiSCORDER,   JULY'04
identity on three sides, was not the graceful, agile bird he so
desired. A jumbo jet on the verge of ballet... or crash-landing.
Talking with Hawtin later, he mused on the metaphor of flying the
music. It must be understood that Hawtin was playing an entirely
new instrument, not only for the world's air traffic control, but
for him. No autopilot in this [CTRL]. While the minimalist intensity
of Hawtin's compositions were as strict as to be expected,
the flightplan was unclear. Where were we going through this
stratosphere of rumbled bass? Where had we been? And why?
Is Hawtin the new Bowie with his identity sequences, a cult
of personality? Does the look echo louder than the sound? It
is only with the deepest of bows that any questions are posed,
and it is only in light of the proposition set forth by Hawtin that we
join him on his aerial journeys, head bent forward in the crash
position, speaker-worshipping until the wheels touch on alien
Metropolis all night, all night, all night, WHAT THE FUCK, all night all
night all-
Saturday—time for movement and body gyrations. A stunning,
all-night visual arrangement in bright colours and 2-dimensional
overlays, introduced an intimacy to this otherwise overbearing
space. Unfortunately the process of getting into the venue was
disrupted by the harangues of security forces. Because yes,
ladies and gentlemen, this was a "Waves'' which means dumping
everything out of your pockets. Despite a press pass it took
some convincing to bring in my digital camera—a ridiculous
conversation given that this is festival is about digital culture and
that security should stick to its job: looking for weapons.
Saturday night was a good night. Fax was playing
as we entered, unfortunately a bit lost in a venue this size. Egg
launched into their cartoonist) beats, which have developed
significantly over their earlier work. Kind of like Cirque du Soleil:
there is something about it that screams "only in Quebec"—men
in red leotards leaping around with weird wings on their back is
one thing, and Egg is another.
The Rip Off Artist—while beginning on the cut-up, Mr. Artist
settled into his Californian groove, lending a tour-de-force
of glitch, sampledelia, microsampling and microhouse that
gestured toward the future of the art. The Rip Off Artist picks up
where Akufen left off, and the result is admirable, danceable,
invigorating and surprising. Much the same can be said of Krikor
and Isolde. Isolee's set was an acid revival rewind that also saw
a remix of Ricardo Villalobo's "Easy Lee." Krikor was all rewind on
the analogue gear, cracking out mid-performance, calling for
inventive MDI stop/start techniques. At one point, sftftng up on
the balcony, I turned to some acid freaks and said: "Krikor has
achieved what Plastikman attempted."
If only the same could be said for "Donna Summer"—sorry,
Jason Forrest. Or, is it "Jason Forrest," a.k.a.. Donna Summer? One
or the other, Forrest/Summer needs both names to pull together
his noisy, ramshackle mash-ups stolen from 70s and '80s pop and
rock music. And what he gets here he deserves.
When a performer comes on and says "FUCK YOU" to the
audience, throwing water bottles and attitude, knocking other
performer's gear in his onstage Mailings, then a sif^i^iesponse is
only to be expected from the audience, which booed Summer
Forrest steadily toward the end. Poor programming—unless the
curatorial intent was the ultimate destruction of the festival, a
nagging feeling I couldn't shake by the end of Sunday night.
To finish—because the rest of the night was dreaming.
Crackhaus, the Steve Beaupre + Scott Montieth duo, rocked the
house. Crackhaus is perverse: the construction of complicated
sequences of percussion amidst loopy samples. Yelling "MORE
FARM SOUNDS," most of us cracked a rib and pulled a groin
dancing to this barnyard techno jig.
Sunday Smoke
Sunday afternoon, we go to Piknik Electronic on the island to
drink and smoke the pain away as the giant modernist sculpture
splays the sun above our heads. On the soundsystem, m_nus
label cohorts and Herbert. By new I'm at the level of most
vegetation on the island: murky, fighting for breath, crawling...
No matter. For now, Vancouver's Loscil is playing sonar
to the depths of dub techno. With a twist—tonight's theme is
instrumentation, be it sampled in Loscil's case, or played as
live electronic jazz. Either way its the perfect re-entry into the
atmosphere of the black box. Burnt Friedman with Jaki Liebezeit
(ex-Can drummer) is a lounge spectacular with the brush of indie
fame. In the presence of wired history, a sampfing of time as the
rhythms unwind.
After much weirdness—this strange man offered me
mosquito netting for my DV cam—Jamie Lidell, the human
beatbox machine, anti-christ, apocalyptic harbringer, and mad
genius, his video camera strapped to his head.
Jamie Lidell studied philosophy, helped found of infamous
techno label Subhead, formed Super_Collider with Cristian
Vogel. Interviews indicate that he works only under pressure,
critiques himself relentlessly, teHs the world to fuck off when he
wants. Onstage his mouth and resampling techniques send
speakers into frequencies approaching the heart-attack level.
The windows are flexing and I cover my ears and prepare for
the worst. It gets so much better it is worse, which is to say, it gets
If ever the word has been abused, Jamie Udell can claim
it now. Deconstruction. There is not nothing left after Lidell. This is
not the end of music. This is the phoenix, the fire, the ashes, aU at
once, in no particular order. This is the remake. Pure, unfettered,
urifiltered expression. Expression. Violence. The machinic
aesthetic fed back into the head of a certain human, and this .
inhuman stretching his:guts to accommodate the entire room,
fhe SAT, the street, the park. Montreal Quebec, North America,
the world. Taking it all back in through ali the wrong orifices that
somehow feel so right. I am in love with Jamie Udell's fist.
Mutek is over. Repeat. D
http://www.zed.cbc.ca/mutek -2004 video, text, photos
http://www.dustedmagazine.com/ - full feature GUITAR SUNGIN' (WEED SMOKIN', ACID DROPPIN') DEMON
Val Cormier
I'm Johnny Cash when I'm drinkin',
I'm the Clash when I'm thinkin'
I'm Mad Max when I'm drivin',
I'm Mike Diamond when I'm rhymin'
I'nrrHumphrey Bogart when I'm smokin',
I'm Bob Marley when I'm tokin'
i%ndin bed when I'm'dreamin'
;. I'm a guitar slingin' demon.
From "Suicidewinder" by Ridley Bent
When I mentioned East Van songwriter Ridley Bent recently
to a friend, she replied: "Oh, yeah, Ridley. Every song he writes
is about pot!" An exaggeration perhaps, but hasn't it been said
that you should write what you know?
A master storyteller, Ridley combines elements of country, folk,
reggae, hip hop, and more into what he calls "hick hop". Think
Buck 65 if he were to get into a dust-up with a young John Prine
out behind the Cobalt.
Ridley's already set up with a manager, a Toronto-based
agent, and a Chin Injeti-produced CD, soon to be released on
MapleMusic. Some primo recent opening spots for the likes of
Sam Roberts, Great Big Sea, Danny Michel, and a tour with Buck
65 likely indicate his days of Jiving under the local musical radar
are numbered.
DiSCORDER met up with Ridley in the W.I.S.E. Hall lounge
during the NHL playbffs.
DISCORDER: Is it true you used to play baseball with Buck 65 when
you lived in Halifax years ago?
Ridley: We talked about that when we were on tour together.
We played ball with some of the same people, so maybe, just
maybe, we played against each other. I don't know.
How was that tour?
It was awesomel Nanaimo was just a rockin' show. We did
4 shows together: Nelson, Whistler, Nanaimo, Victoria. Of those,
Nelson was the best. t'^r^'
Your bio says you grew up as an army brat.
My dad was an airframe tech. I was born in Nova Scotia,
where he was stationed in Shearwater, working on helicopters
on the boats. Then we moved to Germany, and he was working .
on the planes over there. Then we moved back to Canada. I
remember Europe as being such a great place. School trips to
Amsterdam., [laughs] Moving around being an army brat sucked
in a lot of ways, but I did get to go to Europe when I was a
teenager, and that was fun.
What bands do you like listening to?
Corb Lund Band, they're just a rockin' band. I like Wilco, I
like Hank Williams a lot, Jim Croce, Willie Nelson. I like a lot of
different stuff. EHiot Smith these days, a lot of Frank Black. I was
just introduced to Elliot Smith by a roommate, and I think he's
awesome. I've also been listening to Fountains of Wayne, PJ.
Harvey,   '.i^^fe
If you could collaborate with anyone, who'd you like to make
music with?
Frank Black is at the top of my list. I'd love to sit with Veal,
they're one of my favourite bands. Danny Michel, got to know
him, he's another guy I'd like to collaborate with. Aaron Grant,
a guy in town who's unbefievably good. The Seams, Rae Spoon
—everyone on the tractorgrease.com site.
I remember being at a gig where you introduced a song by
saying you'd been reading a lot of Louis L'Amour lately. Did he
influence your writing, and who else has?
I was a security guard, so I could read a lot. The easiest books
for me to read at work were fast-paced action westerns, so I
read a lot of them. I have a couple of songs where he was a big
influence. Also John Steinbeck—I do one song, "Fruit Pickers,"
which is basically a musical version of his book In Dubious Battle.
I tried to tell that story using rhymes. And Quentin Tarantino is one
of my favourite storytellers of all time. Kill Bill just raised the bar. I
loved it. I'd love to collaborate with that guy!
How long have you been writing?
Maybe 6 years or so. I moved here about 4 years ago to
pursue a music career. At that time, what it meant was doing
open mics, trying to meet people on the scene. Before that I was
in Whistler. I can remember writing the very beginnings of my song
"Bad Day" in Whistler.
Do you remember the very first song you wrote?
It was called "As Sweet As Morphine". I used to play it live,
but I don't anymore. I also remember I wrote a poem for the .
yearbook in high school, it was about Duran Duran and Iron
What's your upcoming album going to be Ike?
There's songs on there like "Black Lexus," "Gunsllnging Dog,"
"Rattlesnake Moonshine," "The Devil In Coltrane." The album has
programmed beats, live drummers. There's some sweet players
and wicked talent on the album. What I've been doing live is
my acoustic set, mostly, so it's a lot different than that. When
I envision my live show in the future, it's going to be very close
to the record, but with live musicians. When I opened for Sam
Roberts at the Commodore, I played with a band. That was my
first and only experience so far with really rocking, being really
loud. That was really a good experience for me, and I'd like to be
able to do that every night. '^MeM'"'t%
How did you originally hook up with your producer Chin Injeti?
BC Festival of the Arts a few years ago. I sent my songs in, and
if they like your songs, they give you a free course on songwriting.
I had two mentors: one was Mae Moore, and the other was Chin
Injeti. There were maybe 25 of us chosen for the course.
Chin and I hit it off, and started working together right
away. We did a couple of demos, "Pastures of Heaven" and
"Suicidewinder". They sounded wicked, so we decided to work
together and create a CD. He also hooked me up with his
manager, Allen Moy, who's now my manager.
The record's coming out on MapleMusic, which is distributed
through Universal. A new thing with Universal that I think is really
cool is that now there's a price cap. CD's can't be any more
than $15, or something like that.
Sounds like a response to that whole downloading thing. What
are your thoughts on that issue?
To me, the more people listening to my music, the better.
Especially if they're enjoying it and downloading it because they
love it, you know? Then I think, yeah, if I come to your town then
you'll come and see mei
I have heard that some people are playing my stuff at places
where they work, and I like that. That's good to hear.
Looking into your future, what do you see yourself doing?
We really want to get lots of live [video] footage on our
website, www.tractorgrease.com. Me, my band, my friends'
bands have all got together and made a webpage. I have these
friends who are incredibly talented and we figured this would be
a great way to get the word out about them.
So is this instead of making videos for broadcast on TV?
No, I'd like to do that, too. The thing is, a video will getjnade,
I'm sure—at least one. Even if Much Music doesn't play it, we'll
be able to put it up on tractorgrease.com. I would like to see my
song "In the Trunk of a Black Lexus" on video. That would be my
Would you consider what you do folk music?
I do consider it folk music. I know the record doesn't sound
"folky," but I'd love to play folk festivals. When I do my stuff on an
acoustic guitar, it sounds very folky. Storytelling, you know? The
lyrics are definitely important, so it's always a better show when
people are listening.
I have noticed a lot of your songs are about marijuana. Would it
be fair to say there's an autobiographical element in your writing?
[laughs] Well, "David Harley's Son," for instance, is complete
creation, a fantasy. It's all about pop culture: drinking, smokin'
weed, droppin' acid, doin' mushrooms. I have something to say, I
guess, and I try to make it as entertaining as possible. D
Ridley's next shows are In Chilliwack Jury 8 (with the Seams. J.
Uefos and Rote's Jetboat) and July 9 of ffie WJ.S.E. Hall [opening
for Austin, TX band The Gourds).
www.tractorgrease.com 1HSC ORDER.   IULY'04
And My Shoes Keep Walking
Back fo You
By Kathi Kamen Goldmark
Chronicle Books
Grab your detective capl
Dig out your tweed coat and
your notebook! Bring a pipe, if
yOu must. And don't forget a
magnifying glass—we have a
mystery to solvel
First, the evidence: Kathi
Kamen Goldmark's first novel.
This chick-lit-meets-honky-
tonk story about struggling
country singer Sarah Jean
Pixlie comes complete with
lyrics. It's TERRIBLE. It's really
• not a good book at all.
Goldmark's characterization
stretches to reach one
dimension, particularly with
the minor characters. This isn't
helped by her irritatingly self-
conscious depiction of the
music scene. "Look, we're a
bunch of wacky musicians!
We^e so CRAZY!" Everybody's
wacky, and not much else.
The plot is as contrived as the
characters, ticking along as
regularly (and predictably) as
clockwork. Some heavy issues
are introduced,,, but treated
so shallowly that unexpected
pregnancy, childbirth and
single motherhood come
off as no big deal. If you find
the novel funny, you could
probably ignore all these
flaws and be entertained in a
beach-book sort of way. For
me, the humour collapsed
under it's own obviousness,
but I do have one friend who
found the story amusing.
And now for the mystery: the
back cover and first page
of this book are covered—
covered!—in glowing flattery
from respected writers and
critics. The phrase "dazzling
tour de force" is used. Even
if you thought the book was
funny, it should hardly garner
this kind of praise.
So, junior detectives, let us
get to the heart of this puzzle.
There are a few possible
reasons for al! this: 1) Chronicle
Books have more problems with
typos than the DiSCORDER,
2) Nobody actually read the
book before reviewing it, 3)
All the reviewers are smoking
crack, or 4) Goldmark has
friends in high places.
Searching on the internet
for more information on the
author, I discovered that
Goldmark is, in fact, the
founder of the Rock Bottom
Remainders, a publishing-
world musical supergroup
whose members include Amy
Tan, Dave Barry, Molly Ivins,
and Stephen King. So you're in
a band with a bunch of well-
known writers, huh? This would
point to conclusion 4£exce^f;
that I want to give evefcjr&rje
else the benefit of the doubt.
So I'm going to settle on
conclusion 5) Goldmark is
blackmailing everyone in the
publishing industry. Junior
detectives, our mystery is.
PS. If you wanna read a real
book about musicians, find a
copy of Guilty of Everything
by local punk John Armstrong,
published by Vancouver indie
press New Star Books. It's a
thousand times funnier and
totally unpredictable. Plus it's
all true! Honestly, I don't know
why this memoir of Vancouver's
late great punk rock scene
isn't a cult classic.
Dark Light: Electricity and
Anxiety from the Telegraph to
the X-Ray
Linda Simon '""V- ~ 1
Harcourt Books
Linda Simon sets out to tell the
story of how electricity and
specific electrical djev-fces
developed, were introduced
to the market and received
with varying degrees of
enthgsiasm. She also seeks to
discuss how people feared
these new inventions and
discoveries before eventually
accepting them into daily life.
While Dark Light is well
written, interesting and
amusing, Simon unfortunately
uses a writing style that
leaves much unfinished and
unexplained. Her background
is in writing biographies where
this sort of serial anecdotal
style can work well, but writing
histories requires a little more
coherence. There were some
very interesting sections that
stopped abruptly in the middle
of things, and then jumped to
something else not clearly
The author does give an
overview of many Victorian
anxieties regarding electricity,
but many issues thus raised are
left unanswered. For example,
if people were so freaked out
by the idea of alternating
current after it was used in the
first electric chair execution,
how did they come to accept
it enough that A/C power
is now the primary mode
of household electricity?
Conversely, there are other
tangential "sections that never
really get to the central theme
or tied back to the plot, in so
much as there is one.
Dark Light seems particularly
fractured in Part III, before
ending as abruptly as some
of its sections do. It is sorely in
need of a conclusion to tie
all the loose ends together
and address some of those
unfinished trains of thought.
Also, in the introduction
Simon states these fears about
electricity were the same sort
of thing as our fears about
cloning and genetically
modified crops. It would have
been nice to address how
the-electricity fears subsided.
Did people decide they were
unfounded?'!^;they just get
used to electricity and stop
thinking about it? And if so,
were any of the original fears
founded on real issues that
have not been resolved?
Concerns about power lines
and cancer rates come to
mind here.
While the book was ari
enjoyable read as snapshots
of history, it really didn't go
any deeper than a superficial
treatment (and sometimes
outright sidestepping) of the
issues it purports to address.
The Fat Kid
Paul Vermeersch
ECW Press v&j?*
Obesity is central issue for
modern Canadians. We're
affected both physically
and mentally; people of
all shapes and sizes suffer
crippling insecurity about their
appearance at the same time
as obesity wreaks havoc upon
people's quality of life. The
problem is a double-edged
sword: heavier people deserve
support rather than shaming,
and at the same time the issue
needs to be critically examined
and combated.
In this tragic battle, the
casualties are those already
most afflicted, overweight
people themselves. Toronto
poet Paul Vermeersch's verse
narrative describes the tragic
life and times of a fat kid
growing up in the hinterland
of Canadian suburbia. With
Dickensian. transparency,
the protagonist is named
Calvin Little. Calvin is easy to
empathize with; we cry along
with him through sweaty
fumbles in changing rooms,
high-school ritual torture,
and the development of a
bona fide eating disorder.
Vermeersch's writing is clear
and powerful. For example, at
the outset of Calvin's eating
disorder: "The days will pass
tike picking daises once / you
get accustomed, learn / not to
listen to the voice in your limbs,
the lactic moans / pleading for
the end." Amen, brother.
However,   ideologically.
the book falls slightly short,
focussing sheerly on Calvin's
t?md|on:al torture, Vermeersch
ignores the genuine physical
cost of obesity. His viUians
are the advertisers and
fashion designers, who are
evil to be sure, but doubly so
when teamed with the food
p*oVr«s,$©rs and marketers
who seduce us with health-
destroying t^dnd sugar.
Regardless of its flaws, fhe faf
kid should be required reading
in high-school English classes.
Listen up, B.C. school districts,
it's time to replace all those
copies of The Outsiders]
- Susy Webb
Scrapbook, Uncollected Work:
By Adrian Tomine
Drawn & Quarterly Publications
There are so many reasons
to like Adrian Tomine. This
tremendously gifted artist's
distinctive, immediately
engaging style encapsulates
everyday ennui, a difficult
thing to do. He contributes
to a number of prestigious
magazines and has done work
for a number of great bands.
' Unfortunately, his new book
(the one I'm trying to review)
is $36. Should you get it? If
you're a fan of Tomine's Optic
Nerve comic series, you'll
probably dig this book. It has
Do you think Adrian Tomine likes the chesty ladies? it's
hard to say; he draws them lots, but, honestly, big boobs
are easier to draw.
a bunch of one-page comics
(the best of which includes
"Dormitory Regret " and "My
First Girlfriend"), album art that
Tomine's done for everyone
from The Softies to The Eels to
The Aisler's Set. It also collects
a bunch of drawings Tomine
did for The New Yorker (mostly
to do with movies). Esquire and
(ack!) YM. It's enjoyable to see
the way Tomine deals with
various subject matters and
styles. Tomine also includes his
sketch book, which confirms his
obsession with pretty girls. So,
fans out there, if you're feeling
flush or if you have a birthday
coming up, Scrapbook is a lot
of fun.
If, on the other hand, you're
not really familiar with Tomine,
I'd recommend seeking out
his Optic Nerve comic series.
They're only $5 a pop and
reading one is a great way to
spend a summer afternoon.
Oh my god, I'm such a hack.
- Duncan
Red Cat Records
4307 Main "
Mew & Used CD's & Yinyl
ph. 708-9422 * email 1mddy^recleat.ca The Roots w/ Sklllz, Jean Grae,
Martin Luther
Thievery Corporation
May 28
Plaza of Nations
A 7:30pm start on a Friday evening
is a tough task for any band to
undertake. That, coupled with the
fact that hip hoppers dominated
the  crowd,   didn't   really   help
Thievery   Corporation   get   the
audience it deserves. That pisses
me off
Musically, The Roots and
Thievery are not TOO far off, but
one had to be curious about
the mix of crowds. As I got there,
Thievery was kicking 'Facing East,'
with their band of 6 musicians
(drummer, percussionist, bassist,
sitar/guitar with Rob on labtpp
and Eric on decks) with Pam
Bricker on vocals. Lou Lou also
did a couple songs, followed by
Jah Roots and Zeebo AKA See-I
in tandem.
As the sun went down, the
Roots took the stage. The last
Roots show, in Feb. 2003, didn't
live up to my expectations, but
this one blew that notion outta my
dome as they took off right where
"The Seed" took them on their last
album: Rockin' away from the hip
hop jazz sphere and just jamming
with up tempo, funky, breakier
shit. The middle portion was more
standard hip hop, with the other
okay Players/Playettes hoppin' in
with the band.
Then Black Thought did his
rendition of Dave Chapelle's
"I'm Rick James, bitch!" skit, then
proceeded to do "The Seed"
over "Super Freak" (I shit you not).
Each musician did a solo that
showed hip hop audiences what
"concerts" canstillbe (theguitarist
went straight "roots" and did a
blues guitar solo and proceeded
to give the Vancouver audience
a blues version of "Summer of 69".
Seriously, I shit you not again!).
Anightencompassing Thievery
Corporation (THE live "electronic"
act), the Roots (THE live hip hop
act) and Talib Kweli later that
night at the Commodore (w/
Black Thought, Jean Grae, and
Sklllz hoppin in) has to be one of
the most memorable nights for
shows in this town, period.
Boon /Condo
The Decemberists
Long Winters
May 28
Richard's on Richards
Despite a late start resulting in an
extremely brief set, opening act
the Long Winters were undeterred
in thrusting their melodic rock
upon the sparse Richard's on
Richards audience. The Seattle
band have a sound similar to
Built to Spill but with cleaner
guitars, less pretentious lyrics,
and refreshing vocal harmonies
that come courtesy of bassist
Eric Corson. Lead singer John
Roderick's between-song humoun
most of which was centered on
the lack of enthusiasm shown by
the audience, was often more
engaging than his band's music.
Unoriginality aside, the Long
Winters had a tight performance
and successfully • primed the
minuscule crowd for Portland's
The Decemberists.
The mid-tempo "Lesley Anne
Levine", from 2002's Castaways
and Cutouts, heralded the
beginning of a wildly eclectic and
shamefully short performance.
The opening song featuring
the skilled accordion playing of
keyboardist Jenny Conlee, and
foreshadowed the diversity of
instruments to be featured on
stage. A xylophone, an electric
twelve-string guitar, a mandolin,
and a gong cymbal all found
their place in the nine songs
The third song of the set,
"Apology Song", illustrated the
quirkiness of lead singer Colin
Meloy's lyrics and reiterated the
Decemberists unique niche: no
other band could play a song
about a stolen bicycle and have
hipsters nodding.
Though the venue was only
half-filled, the audience's talking
nearly drowned out the plaintive
"Clementine". Such impoliteness
was soon quashed, however,
by the boisterous fun of "The
Chimbley Sweep", accentuated
by a mid-song accordion-versus-
guitar duel. The show reached its
most abrasive and eccentric point
during "The Tain", a nineteen-
minute test of the audience's
attention span.
As a much-needed change
of pace, Meloy emerged alone
for the encore and played an
acoustic ballad, "Red Right
Ankle"; one of the pinnacles of
their latest album. Her Majesty,
The Decemberists.
Ever the unpredictable
performers, the Decemberists
ended the night by breaking
out the synthesizer and
performing a cover of Echo and
the Bunnymen's "Bring on the
Dancing Horses". Had the show
not been so short, I just may have
Josh McNorton
The Eternals
May 29
Commodore Ballroom
Often, my favourite thing to do
before a concert starts is to go up
to the stage and examine all the
instruments that are already set
up. In this case I counted upwards
of ten keyboards, three drum
sets, two sets of xylophones, and
a maze of microphones, guitars,
and effects pedals. Unfortunately,
whatever excitement this led to
fast drained away as The Eternals
took the stage. A Chicago three-
piece, they blended some superb
drumming with good snaking bass
lines, and something like Jamaica
rapping. .
Theoretically, it 'could have
been awesome, except that
the only really good thing about
the lead singer was his dancing:
something like a reggae robot. If
only his lyrics or voice had been
that smooth.
Further draining my reserve
of happiness for the night was
the realization that the second
act. Beans, was not the post-rock
Vancouver group I'd expected,
but instead was a solo rap act
with his very own CD player full
of beats. Granted, Beans was
a talented (and, upon later
realization, important) rapper
and got the crowd dancing, and
had (as far as I could make out)
the best lyrics the night had yet
encountered, but there wasn't
too much variety to his set and
his beats still just didn't stand out
for me.
Finally, Tortoise slipped onto
the stage and started doing what
everyone had been waiting for.
Xylophone trios, double drum set
action, post rock guitar riffs, and
videos that mostly concentrated
on psychedelic squares and a
distorted city life were all part of
the spectacle, but I think what
may have stood out the most
to me is the absolute absence
of audience interaction. There
were no hellos or goodbyes, no
intersong banter, no outward
display of personality at all, and
instead it became evident that
these are musicians who really
love their music and are here to
perform it, bringing it as close as
possible to perfection.
It could have made a
challenging show for youth raised
on pop-punk short attention
span orgies, but for those
coming from a background of
jazz or even classical concerts,
-it was perfectly fitting. After all, I
thought. Tortoise has a reputation
for frustrating rock critics who
expect their, favourite bands to
reinvent themselves after every
album, and I might be the first to
agree that most of their songs are
recognizably similar. As tempted
as I am to enter a philosophical
discussion of whether Tortoise is
post-rock or jazz (where jazz tends
to focus on perfection of style
over expansion of style), I think
I'll leave that to the guys in High
Fidelity (A.K.A. Zulu). As far as the
fans were concerned though, I
feel confident to say that none
left unhappy. Tortoise put on an
incredibly tight show, which is
something that too many people
seem to forget can be an art in
Soren Brothers
The Blow
Anna Oxygen
Channels 3&4
June 6
Pat's Pub
There was no one at Pat's
when I arrived at 10 o'clock
or so. Everyone was at the
. Pink Mountaintops/Frogeyes/
Destroyer show at Richard's.
Heck, I'd been there, but I and a
few others felt the need to leave
early to try to cram two shows into
the night. The crazy hedonists who
took a risk were in for a treat... all
30 or so of them that decided to
show up.
As per usual, I was talking
loudly about things I really don't
have the knowledge to talk
about when The Blow started.
She was so small and quiet that I
didn't notice her standing in front
of a microphone in the center of
the dance-floor-level "stage".
In a shaky voice, barely
audible above the crowd, she
murmered, "Umm, no-ones's
really heard this song, except my
Which prompted the wiseass
next to me whisper that he, while
he wasn't her boyfriend, had
heard it before,, but / believed
her. I believed the whole gosh
darned thing.
The Blow's live performance
is more of a play punctuated by
songs. Their most recent album.
The Concussive Caress makes
so much more sense when you
get all the inside information. It
was the of fhe kind of beautiful
honesty that you don't care if it's
fiction or hot.
So we sat there and listened to
the whole thing, quiet and kind of
stunned. Then, out of nowhere...
A dance party broke outl
The Blow + Yacht's next
album contains some sort of
dance-frenzy inducing subliminal
messages, and all 30-or-so of
us (give or take a wallflower or
two) gathered in, pressed onto
the dance floor, while she sang
along with a CD she'd brought
up with her. If was surreal. Totally
and utterly. I still can't figure out
exactly what happened, except
that somehow I didn't feel like a
spectator anymore. That's the
goal right?
Things calmed down
somewhat as Anna Oxygen
took the stage. Her magical
tale of travelling into the body
was accompanied by a huge
projection of eclectic computer-
generated images (sadly too
green). It wasn't long before we
got our kicks back on, and the
night concluded with the whole
room doing a wierd synchronized
dance. Dancing for all the world
like it was Sunday afternoon, no-
one was home, and the music
was up really loud.
Channels 3&4 rocked out in
exactly the way they always rock
out, but I've totally seen them a
million times. So, yeah.
Graeme Worthy
Drakes -
June 12
The Brickyard
Sunday  shows   can   be   sweet
sometimes,   in   a blessing/curse
sorta way.   This gig featured a
low turnout (40? ish?), but a cozy
vibe, more like a basement show
or a gathering of good friends.
Some nights you feel like
getting lost in the haze of noise,
faces and cheap draft, but nights
like these are amenable to actual
conversation, especially since I
was looking forward to chatting
with some of Challenger's
members: Jessica Hopper (Punk
Planet columnist. Hit It or Quit It
editor, PR magnate and much-
needed post-riot grrrl shitcaller in
the punk rock sausage party) and
Al Burian (writer of the delightfully
sardonic & re-readable Burn
Collector, my fave zine next to
good ol' Cometbus).
On the subject of good convo,
and in staying true to DiSCORDER
form [Snap! - ed.], I missed most
of the first band. I was holding
court elsewhere, but Drakes
seemed to do OK. They brought
a lot of their friends, who promptly
disappeared after they loaded
out. Tight, heavy, melodic, emo:
they did it well. E for effort.
I've praised AttaclcMachine
in these pages before, as their
previous incarnation: Sharpteeth.
They've dropped the old material,
added new members and have
hit the ground running. If you like
tightly-wognd, multilayered post-
hardcore with scream-and-
response vocals, played by. guys
who fall down a lot and have a
soft spot for Gravity bands of yore
(Clikitat Ikatowi, Heroin, Antioch'-.
Arrow), you are very much in
luck. In other words: yikes, which
is exactly what you'll be thinking ...
when frontman Nick falls off of the f
stage, bringing two mic stands]
down with him, in your direction.
I wasn't sure what to expect
from Challenger. I mean, orie
would expect a band consisting
of 3/4 of Milemarker to sound a
lot like....uh huh. Not so. In the
absence of MM's keyboard-
heavy tunes, these were strong
songs from seasoned musicians,
with a taut, straightforward sound,
but with enough danceable
bounce to keep any potential
hoody/ jock-in-Hatebreed-
wiridbreaker-two-man-pit away
from the front (you know those
chumps too? I hate those guys.
I'm glad they stayed home). It felt
oddly honest.
The Roots at the Plaza of Nations
Photo by Jason Levis DiSCORDER,   JULY'04
Al kept the good vibe
going, chatting up the crowd
about unemployment and our
upcoming election in between
songs. So, we danced, hung out,
bought zines, talked more, and
it was nice to not stumble home
at 3 in the morning smelling like a
brewery, for a change. As stated:
Sunday shows can be sweet,
Christopher Olson
The Stills
Von Bondies
Sea Ray
June 15
Commodore Ballroom
Get your art on. The bands that
graced the Commodore tonight
could have been art school rock
dropouts.    Someone    obviously
thought that these bands had
something in common, because
they    decided    to    combine
these originally separate shows
The second act of the
evening. Sea Ray, didnit look like
typical rockers, but they could
hold their own on stage. This 6-
piece band's strongest player
was the drummer; he played
like a human drum and bass
machine. It was also surreal to
see a head-banging cellist. Sea
Ray's aesthetic tool of choice
was film; spastic random images
were  projected  onscreen  and
these were beautifully in sync
with their playing. The songs
varied from spacey, new wave
melodies, to beautiful simple
vocal/cello-lead songs that grew
darker overtones.
This band had the best
ending. They shredded apart, their
melodies and had an instrumental
meltdown like a filmstrip dissolving
from the screen.
The band with the most
buzz was the Von Bondies. This
was garage rawk, through
and through. The minute they
walked onstage, their attitudes
and fashion sense were loud
and clear. It was strange how
loud each successive song
got. Everything but the vocals
seemed to get amplified;
apart from Jason Stollsteimer's
screaming, it sounded like I was
wearing earmuffs. "The Fever"
and "Broken Man" stood out the
most. The Von Bondies drummer,
Don Blum, laid it on thick. Another
treat was hearing the female
band members deliver their
back-up vocals.
Most of the set sounded
the same but the songs with
the catchy dance beats were
the most fun. At one point, the
guitarist, Marcie Bollen, asked the
crowd to dance and said how the
Seattle audience was better than
this one. "C'mon C'mon" got
the biggest response; the band
delivered it with a very strong
pounding riff. The highlight of the
night was when a crew guy used
his flashlight to provide a mini
light show while the band played
during a brief stage blackout.
Even though the crowd
cheered for an encore, they
never came out again. Maybe
they were busy looking for a map
to get back to Seattle.
_ The Stills were the last band
on the bill. They're sketchy, to
say the least. There were doodles
plastered all over the amp covers
and on screen. This was their last
tour date and they were happy
to be back with all things familiar,
like loonies. The drummer had
a usual stage spot, right on the
edge of the right-hand side.
"Of Montreal" was a great
opener. The frantic, sped-up songs
matched the' sad desperation
of Tim Fletcher's vocals. "Lola"
and "Changes Do No Good"
had the crowd madly singing
along. "Animals" had the crazy
never-ending outro. The Stills can
definitely stretch out songs to let
them breathe and each band
member wove in details.
For their encore, Fletcher
came out and handed out every
piece of a bouquet he had, right
down to the baby's breath. The
charismatic drummer, Dave
Hameh'n, took over vocal duties
on the last song, "Yesterday". He
sang it hunched over and went
anywhere the mic cord would
let him go. Then, after the song
ended, he casually threw the mic
across the stage. Leave it to the
bassist to do the job right; he used
his guitar to knock over the drum
set, and then added the mic
stand and other stage materials
on top of it, like he was building
a bonfire.
Emily Khong
Need New Body
Raking Bombs
June 18
The Brickyard
Over the past few years, under
the sage guidance of a much-
beloved Premier, the homeless
population in the Downtown
East has doubled. The harshed-
out scene was perfect for
Vancouver's best show of the
summer, if not ever.
Hometown favourites Raking
Bombs started the late show,
with their characteristically fight
art-punk set. Scattering the
stage "with leaves, a Dionysian
orgy ensued which left the band
glassy-eyed with ecstasy, and
eventually 75% on the floor.
Need New Body's merch was
the perfect introduction to the
group's... uh... "unique" steez.
Hand-screened T-shirts, hand-
drawn     bumper     stickers($5l),
summarized the band's musical
aesthetic in visual form.
Onstage, the six-member
Philadelphia troupe • brought
out all the bells and whistles,
complete with bicycle wheel
percussion. Front man Jeff
Bradbury played a crazed,
bearded beach boy, with
better style and stage presence.
His vocals and theatrics were
frantic and poised all at once,
and the rest of the group
matched his intense energy.
Keyboardist/vocalist Jamie
Robinson resembled a manic
Muppet (in the very best sense
of the word), and drummer
Chris Powell spent most of the
show with his eyes rolling up into
the back of his head, looking
like he was in the middle of the
most amazing orgasm he'd
ever had.The melodic, complex
yet concise music was manic
and highly danceable. NNB's
overwhelming charisma and
chemistry kept the crowd rapt.
By the time the group had
finished, we were sweaty and
smiling, primed and ready for
Simply put, drummer Zach
Hill and guitarist Spencer Seim
are visionaries. I'm not the only
ones who think so: virtually
every city the Sacramento-
based band visited on this tour
printed a story on them. Four
months on the.road have led
the boys in an' improvisational
direction, and their utterly
original, almost indescribable
brand of instrumental rock was all
the better for it.
Spencer's guitar playing is
similar to Lee & Thurston of Sonic
Youth's, in the sense that all wring
as-yet unheard sounds from
the instrument. Strange ways of
rubbing the strings while strumming
them simultaneously created
sounds and melodies that, had
Spencer not been standing
there with his guitar, I would
have assumed were samples. As
always, Zach's drumming was a
tour de force which left his hands
bleeding, and his clothes soaked
with sweat, as-if he'd been fully
immersed in water.
In conclusion, I love Hella.
Judging by the amount of merch
sold , the rest of Vancouver loves
them too, though obviously (for
so many reasons) not as much
as I do.
Sasha Webb
anjibjicnji. coha
J Wndwnwiew
Beastie Boys
To The 5 Boroughs
New York City's most beloved
trio of Jewish boys are back
again with their sixth album. To
The 5 Boroughs was recorded
and produced entirely in the
Beasties' new NYC home
studio. Every song is laden
with references to New York
subway stations, streets, and of
course, the outer boroughs. The
cover art is a detailed sketch
of Manhattan's famous skyline,
as seen from the perspective
of B'klyn. This drawing, which
includes the World Trade Centre,
is borrowed from Matteo
Pericolli's Manhattan Unfurled.
It's now almost 20 years
since the Beastie Boys started
rapping on Def Jam in 1985.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Boys'
old age has affected the quality
of this album, with MCA's voice
sounding noticeably hoarse.
However, Mike D and King
Adrock haven't changed a
bit, with the same high-pitched
bounce in their vocal chords.
While the Beastie Boys
have been incredibly innovative
throughout their entire career,
there is definitely less freshness
on their newest LP. Could this be
a result of the corporate climate
of 21s' Century New York culture,
as helmed by billionaire Mayor
Mike Bloomberg? Anyone who
has recently visited 'New' New
York, p^>st-Rudy Giuliani, can
attest to the tragic Disney-
fication of Times Square and
Greenwich Village. Since the
album is an ode to the city, one
can't help but wonder how city
politics and economics might
have affected the Boys.
The album's best tracks are
"Ch-Check It Out" and "Triple
Trouble," which incorporate
classic drum breaks and samples
reminiscent of the seminal LA-
recorded Paul's Boutique. Is
this LP any good? It is okay at
best, but not as amazing as
their first three. Quite honestly,
mediocrity is part of a larger
problem in hiphop. Fresh ideas
and ill concepts are rare, even
in the underground. But enough
hating. When it comes down to
it, I'm just glad that the Beastie
Boys blessed us with this treat
of 15 tracks. As long as this
legendary trio wants to release
new music, I'll be more than
glad to (ch-J check it out.
Frank Uao
Division Of Laura Lee
Das Not Compute
(Burning Heart/Epitaph)
The Swedes are back for
another kick at the can with the
follow-up to Black City and does
anyone else think they sound
just a little like Girls Against
Boys? Tracks like "Dirty Love,"
"Does Compute" and "We Are
Numbers" ooze the same sweat,
sex and seduction as their North
American cousins, but themes
of frustration, disillusionment
and desperation are mixed with
a hopefulness that cements
the notion that they sing from
personal experience and want
to break the barriers of the
simple love/hate dichotomy
prevalent in most rock 'n' roll
songs. Unes like "I believe in the
brokenhearted/and I know that
your time will come/I close my
eyes to get it all undone" (from
"Loveless"), and "Think about
the things I've done/all the
things gone wrong/past mistakes
that now seem colourful and
beautiful" (from "To The Other
Side") are fuzzed-out standouts
full of optimism, but there are
some sombre moments like
"Breathe Breathe" and "There's
A Last Time For Everything" that
retain the moodier elements of
the band's JAMC-influenced
repertoire. All things considered,
DOLL have successfully bridged
the gap between the lovers
and the fighters, making a solid
sophomore effort.
Bryce Dunn
Heron Leg
(Freak OX Records)
The latest from Fen evokes weird,
slightly disturbing childhood
memories. For example, the
image of dragonflies mating is
contrasted with death scenes...
making me wonder .about
lyricist/vocalist Doug Harrison's
life. Are the songs a mix of
reflection and distorted dreams
or slices of real life? For his sake,
hopefully more the former than
the latter.
Heron Leg is an interesting
musical trip aside from
pondering what's behind
the lyrics. The mood is darkly
atmospheric, underpinned
with heaviness and hard edges
—Fen is a metal band, after all.
Textural and dynamic contrasts
are frequently employed,
framing the lyrics in unusual
sonic contexts: the creepiest
lines are often the most delicate
The songs reveal a
sequence of events, each
exploring from a different angle.
While concept albums have
a bad rap these days, that's
simply because most of them
aren't as good as this one. This
is one of those great CDs the
listener can get into more and
more deeply as buried details
are unearthed.
Under the Waterline
Vancouver's Hinterland have
released a debut that beautif uHy
captures the soaring epic feel
of their rock-meets-ambient
milieu. Under the Wateriine has
a sweeping, cinematic feel,
setting off Michaela Galloway's
melodies which include her
clear, bell-like voice as well as
her flute and oboe playing.
Tones are layered with subtley,
but are powerfully evocative.
There is something new to hear
with every spin.
The sonic focus here is
textural juxtaposition, giving
the album a floating, quivering
flavour that is hard to describe
in print. You must hear it!
There, that's all my left brain is
contributing here — go find out
for yourself. Your right brain will
love you for it,
Vampy ra Draculea
The Kicks
Hello Hong Kong
Arkansas's The Kicks are
everything that's been hip
in rock over the last couple
o years all rolled into one
neatly-packaged, major-label
endorsed, radio-approved ball.
Yet no matter how jaded and
cynical I try to be (and believe
me, I try hard) I can't deny my
affection for this disc's twelve
sweet pop-rock songs. The
trendy elements thrown into
their tunes can't hide the fact
that they were written by fans
of Cheap Trick and The Cars,
giving Hello Hong Kong a vibe
akin to Superdrag or Nada Surf's
best work. Not even poor lyrics
on some tracks ("She's my stars
come out/she's my everything"
from "What do I have to Do?" is
a glaring example) can squelch
this group's appeal. It's like the
head is saying no but the body's
saying... let's go!
ton Gormety
Don't Climb on and Take the
Holy Water
(Strange      Attractors      Audio
According to the little sticker
on the CD case, the new Kinski
album is not  the  NEW  Kinski
album, but rather a stopgap EP
of improvised material, which is
normally performed under the
guise of Herzog. With that in mind,
this disc is not recommended
to  new  listeners,   though  this
should not deter casual fans.
The five songs on the EP are far
more restrained than most of
Kinski's output and the second
track times in at a whopping 29
minutes. Like most tracks that
extend into the double digits a
certain amount of wankery is
present. However, the group is
easily able to maintain interest,
so I say, wank onll [Listeners are
also encouraged to masturbate
to said disc. - Ed.]
Ian Gormety
Minus Story
The Captain Is Dead, Let the Drum
Corpse   Dance   (Jagjaguwar)
Like a long lost member of the
Elephant 6 collective. Minus
Story create sweet, sweet (did I
mention sweet?) pop melodies
and infectious harmonies with
a do-it-our-way indie approach
to songwriting and recording.
This album is the third offering
from this group, and their first
with Jagjaguwar. The record's
enigmatic nature, hinted at
by the title, is confirmed by
storylines described on the
label's website. These include:
that of a yOung boy who rallies
together an army of children, a
black cloud that eats birds, and
some girl who comes back as a
ghost in a marching band. Oh
yeah, now I totally get it, guys!
Lo-fi music is surrounded
by what the band themselves
call their "wall of crap" sound,
which I suppose refers to an
update of (or regression from?)
Phil Spector's symphonic pop
production of the '60s. The
album's three core songs are
especially addictive (and did
I mention, sweet): "Open Your
Eyes," my personal favourite,
which contains a spine-
tinglingly beautiful melody;
"You Were on My Side,"
with swirling harmonies; and
"Joyless, Joyless," the closest this
album gets to an all-out romp.
Robert Ferdman
This Kiwi five-piece deserves a
big fat schmackl upside the
head for trying to pull this crap.
Their eye-popping video for
pseudo-hit "Walkie Talkie-Man"
will certainly draw your interest.
.'On first listen, you might think it's
a bunch of indie kids trying to
be cute by throwing out lame
rhymes at breakneck speed.
However, when you realize that
they're actually trying to stick it
to the man (in this case some
kind of security guard), the
novelty wears off. Beyond the
glaringly, bad lyrics about the
plight of the white, 20-something
slacker, this modern rock-radio-
ready disc just doesn't have the
hooks. What they lack in quality,
they make up with in crotch-
grabbing riffs and a false sense
of self-importance. So if that's
your scene, by all means pick
this one up ASAP. [And make
sure to buy it at Virgin or A&B
Sound. -Ed.]
Ian Gormety
They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
Not to say last month's article by
Ben Lai wasn't totally awesome,
but it didn't give any description
of what this local 7-piece
sounds like. For those of you not
lucky enough to have witnessed
They Shoot Horses... in action at
one of their many local house
party gigs, this EP is the perfect
introduction to their high-energy,
rock sound. The self-described
"noisy old root-a-ma-toot band"
features rollicking rhythms, a
horn section (yes, for reall),
and CiTR's own Chrfs-a-rifflc on
Casio. Jazzy guitar balances
tight miBtary-esque drumming,
horn blasts and melodies, and
lots and lots (and lots) of joyful
singing and shouting, creating
a luscious, party-rocking vibe.
The band themselves are a busy
bunch, involved in many other
interesting projects around the
city, which you can read about
on their adorable website. The
site, featuring art by drummer
Julia, is worth seeing if only for
the digital pickle-crunching
Tijuana Bibles
Trust the Bibles to go over the
top (rope) on their third ringside
spectacle of surf 'n' turf; each
CD comes hand-numbered,
specially designed with a
picture of your favourite Bible
member staring seductively at
you, as if to say, "We got you
now, suckers!" And alas, they
would be right, as the infectious
pound of Super Destructor,
the hypnotizin' horn section
of La Felina Negra and La
Chupacabra, gut-busting guitar
and bass from The Crippler,
Sonny Boy Liston and Sky HI
Lee will take a (choke) hold and
make you shake it 'til you break
it. With a musical radar range
that stretches from the primal
stomp of The Cramps to the
full-blast rock 'n' soul of Rocket
From The Crypt, this is one band
that'll, have the turkeynecks'
toes a-tappin' and the swinging
chicks squealin' with delight.
Bryce Dunn
Treddin'onThinlce ..
Wiley is the founder of London's
Roll Deep Crew, which once
numbered Dizzee Rascal
among its members. Though
both artists' sounds are rooted
in American hip-hop, dancehall
reggae, as well as UK garage
(although Wiley adamantly
distances himself from that
scene by proclaiming "It don't
sound like garage" and "I don't
care about garage" in "Wot
Do U Ca|l It," the album's first
single), their work affects the
listener very differently. Dizzee
Rascal's album grabs your
head, knees you in the fucking
face and knocks you right down
on your ass, mostly providing
accounts of his experiences in
the rough neighbourhoods of
East London. Wiley's album is a
much more laid-back affair.
The beats aren't as hard,
and the subject matter doesn't
contain the same despair
and angst as is the case with
Dizzee Rascal. Take "Got
Somebody," in which he states,
"I want to settle down now,"
and "my head is screwed on
tight." He also proclaims that
"this is it, I'm stoppin' now, I'm
not a player." However, this
perceived confidence is curbed
by frequent injections of "yeah,
right," after almost every verse.
Wiley sounds like a man who
knows what he wants but
accepts of his faults and his
situation. This is also evidenced
on the title track, for example,
where he admits "I'm treadin'
on thin ice/It's like I don't
learn 'cause I make the same
mistakes more than twice." <
Robert Ferdman
The Organ
Grab That Gun
Is this that new album by that local band? Yup.
The band that's on the cover of all those newspapers? Yup.
Other than being a bit more slick, does the album sound much
different than their EP? Nope.
Is this a bad thing? Not at all.
Is the running time less than half an hour? Yes.
Is it depressing? Only in a good way.
Can Katie Sketch "not believe the word love"? So she says.
Seriously, do they really thank Chad Kroeger in their liner
notes? Yes.
But he co-owns the label they co-signed to so that makes it okay,
right? Sure.
So, the album, it's good? I would say so.
Even though they repeat three songs from their EP? Yup.
Aren't they a bunch of lezzies? I'm not really sure.
Aren't they a bit static live? Yeah.
Are you going to see them at Richards on July 8 anyway?
Isn't the whole "Sketch Co" thing played out? Maybe a bit.
This is a pretty stupid format for a review, isn't it? Maybe a bit.
Duncan nisr. ORDER.    JULY'0 4
Saturday, July 3
Demolition Doll Rods, Ladies
Night @ The Brickyard
The Cape May, Gordon B. Isnor,
Clover Honey @ Pat's Pub
Josh Martinez, Threat From Outer
Space @ The Metropole Pub
Bughouse Five, Kevin Kane,
Graham Brown, The New
Modernettes, Kevin House, Joe
Mavety @ W.I.S.E. Hall.
Sunday, July 4
Manitoba, Kinnie Starr @ The
Commodore Ballroom
Misanthropy Gallery Fundraiser
w/ DJs MylGaylHusband! and
DonnaJotanner @ Misanthropy
Wednesday, July 7
'Viva Zapata!' benefit for the
Eastside Women's Shelter w/
. Vancougar, Clover Honey,
Gangbang, Cunt @ Railway
Potus, AHey Mattress, Teenage!
Leather! Fight! @ The Cobalt
The Stunts, Hurricane Kitty
@ Marine Club
Thursday, July 8
The Organ record release w/ The
■ R.A.D.I.O, BakeRte @ Richard's
oh Richards
Friday, July 9
All State Champion, Facing
New York, The Sourkeys @ The
The Spinoffs, THE BADAMPS, The
Neo Nasties, Bacon, CRU @ The
Underwear Farm (All Ages)
Blue Monday, Desperate
Measures, Mental, Lights Out
@ Video-In Studios (All Ages)
The Gourds, Ridley Bent @ W.
I.S.E. Hall
Saturday, Jury 10
Road Kutters 4th.Ann. B.B.Q. Bop
Hot Rod show: Pep Torres, Roy
Kay Trio, Cousin Hariey & Howard
Rix, Los Nitros, The LHtra Vixens
Peep Show @ Marine Club
"Organized Crime," recent
paintings and installation by
Andy Dixon @ Misanthropy
Sunday, July 11
Nard Wars II: Return of the Nard
on MuchMusic at 10AM
(Watch it while recovering from
your hangover!)
Monday, July 12
Braid, Recover, Moneen @ Mesa
Tuesday, July 13
Sonic Youth @ The Commodore
Wednesday, July 14
The Gossip, Robosexuals @ Mesa
Luna (All Ages 6pm early show)
The Suicide Girls Live Burlesque
Tour @ Mesa Luna (9pm)
Los Furios, Secret, Secret, Secret
@ Railway Club
Friday, July 16
Gomez, Polyphonic Spree, The
Thrills @ The Centre (All Ages)
Saturday, July 17
The Young Professionals, Prlm35
@ Alley Gallery (All Ages)
Johnny Sizzle, The Wetspots, Evan
Symons, mr. plow, Dan Scum @
The Cobalt
Reverend Horton Heat, The
Forty-Fives @ The Commodore
Face Fest 2004: Wet Exit, Pax
Reverberators Remix Betty
Kracker, The Hunter Cometh,
Vancourtland Rangers,
Emergency, Filthy Rocket, Salmon
Arm, Seventh Image, Motorama,
Walkerband, Bughouse Five,
Uber Sissy, Huskee Dudes,
Richard Fordham, Azul Safvaje, al
contraire, Evan Symons, The Rain
and The Sidewalk, Slowpoke @
Railway Club (that's 22 bands
for 10 bucks!)
Sunday, July 18
Dr. Ring Ding, Eastern Standard
Time @ W.I.S.E. Hall
The Evaporators, The Fleshies,
Toys That Kill, Short Circuit
Transfer @ Endoplasmic
Entertainment, Langley (All
Monday, July 19
The Icarus Une, The Evaporators,
The Battles @ Richard's On
Wednesday, July 21
Scissor Sisters, The Fitness @
Richard's On Richards
Thursday, Jury 22
Mongoose, Sulturro @ The
Friday, July 23
Sparrow, P:ano, The Battles @
The Media Club
Sober Unit, Snake Run @ Video-
In Studios (All Ages)
The Cinch record release w/
EHzabefh @ The Brickyard
Rock Fantasy w/ July Fourth
Toilet @ W.I.S.E. Hall
Monday, July 26
Janet Panic, Tamara Nile, Emely
Jordan, @ Railway Club -
Saturday, July 31
Che Chapter 127, Rae Spoon,
The Kings of Vancouver, DJ Ugly
@ The Brickyard
A virgin in Hollywood, The Vanity
Press @ Pub 340
Pretty Girls Make Graves @
Richard's on Richards
The Blue Ou$l|K||§|
The Slow Wonder
Grab That Gun
Fists of Fury
Let it Die
Arts and Crafts
The Pros and Cons...
C'mon DJ
first narrows
need a wave
. Dirtnap   /'"£■*,
French Kissw^yS
. 11 WM.CQ
A Ghost is Born
t3 YOH$#>ffi&8J ATTACK
Since We Last Spoke
Definitive Jux
Mouthful of Love
Devin Dazzle and the Neon Fever
Emperor Nort$$ri*sh3
Surf vs. the Hying Saucers
■ Mouthful of Love
Good News for People...
Louden Up Now
ISfeiicVandGo i
Strict Machine
Hotel Morgen
Touch and Go
BtAYliEN*   "
Eft: Lake Serenade
Universal --IPllllSli
Tung Songs
Fat Cat
Ghost Tigers Rise
In Tune and On Time Live!
Live on Sonarchy Radio
Accretions slli3§
Noise Factory
29 TimMmm$Et«W^-^i
40 Days
Never Bring You Pleasure
Sonic Unyon V*
Ninja Tune
your blues
33 PJ^tARVEY'   .-
Uh Huh Her
fuckin' a
Mantra of Love
RECORD j§ffi&|9j
anza club
3 w. 8th ave
active pass records 324w.hasfe^S
aucfiopHe records     2016comm^^«
cafe deux soleils
2096 commercial      604.254.1195
bassix records         217 w. hdsffr>ij§lf
361.1 w. broadway    604.738.1959
beatstreet records   3-712 robson j k
917 main
black swan records 3209 w. broadway
868 granville
crosstown music      518 w. pender
455 abbott
highlife records'       1317corrm^it|||
the main
4210 main
noize! records          540seymour
marine club
573 homer
red cat records        4307 main
media club
695 cambie
scrape records        17 w. broadway
pat's pub
403 e. hastings
scratch records        726 richards „*«
pic pub
620 w. pender
zulu records
pub 340
340 cambie
railway club
579 dunsmuir
1036 richards
66 water
WISE hall
mesa luna
1926 w..broadway    604.733.5862
video in studios
1965 main
Michael Janis misspent years working at Winnipeg PubSc Library,
which was actually more exciting than you'd think. The Canadian
public library system caused an alarming number of Michael's
co-workers to suffer complete nervous breakdowns, complete
with gun-waving and rabid foaming. Or so he says. In an attempt
to avoid a Dewy Decimnal System-induced psychosis, he fled
and came to the West Coast where he writes the words for thfe
comic. He now loathes books, and only reads things with little to
no literary value. Like the DiSCORDER.
Terrence "T-Bone" Janis does the drawings. Ffe previous comics
include the adventures of an Andy Capp-esque alcoholic
dog, and a dinosaur kinda Hee Godzilla (but 50 times bigger &
badder). Originally from Canada, Terry now enjoys political exile
in Hoboken, New Jersey. He claims to be employed as a graphic
designer in New York City. His hobbies include "drinking beer &
watching trailer trash TV." And illustrating comics about people
wtjo drink pee, apparently. ft&SW
AT if
101.9 FM
9:00AM- 12:00PM
All of time is measured by its art. This show presents the most recent new music from around
the world. Ears open.
Reggae inna all styles and fashion.
Real cowshit-caught-in-yer-boots country.
3:00PM-5:00PM alt.
The best mix of music, news, sports and commentary from around the local and international
Latin American communities.
British pop music from all decades.
International pop (Japanese, French, Swedish,
British, US, etc.), 60s soundtracks and lounge.
Book your jet set holiday now!
Dedicated to the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and
transsexual communities of Vancouver. Lots of
human interest features, background on current issues, and great music.
Rhythmslndia features a wide range of music
from India, including popular music from Indian
movies from the 1930s to the present, classical
music, semi-classical music such as Ghazals and
Bhajans, and also Qawwalis, pop, and regional
language numbers.
Join us in practicing the ancient art of rising
above common thought and ideas as your host
DJ Smiley Mike lays down the latest trance cuts
to propel us into the domain of the mystic-al.
Cant sleep? Need to stay awake? Here is
the healthy alternative to caffiene....The
Mutha*uckin show is on!!! Join Hedspin, P,
Kutcorners and special guests as they deal
doses of hip hop and info of the urban scene in
Vancity. Guaranteed to keep that head nod-
din' to the early mornin'.
Your favourite brown-sters, James and Peter, offer
a savoury blend of the familiar and exotic in a
blend of aural delights!
11:00AM- 12:00PM
Wanna hear the music that drives the Discorder
war machine? Suppiment your monthly reading with an aural dose of that super-sonic magazine from CiTR
11:00AM-12:00PM alt.
It's punkl
Hosted by David B.
Underground pop for the minuses with the occasional interview with your host, Chris.
A show of radio drama orchestrated and hosted
by UBC students, featuring independent works
from local, national, and international theatre groups. We welcome your involygrnerj^
A chance for new CiTR DJs to flex their musical
muscle. Surprises galore.
Join me - Dallas Brodie - for stimulating ta|k
radio about local, national and internatibojl
TALK: smart, informative, current, provocative radio wHAT>®^p|iir|^!^^^'
sitting, conspiracy theories, reflex antifApien**
canism, lefty v^i^inaorfl^^^
MY ASS alt.
Pr»lpst Albini. 'n' me.
Listen to Selecta Krystabelle for your reggae education.
Vancouver's longest running prime time jazz program. Hosted by the ever-suave Gavin Walker.
Features at 11:00, as listed.
July 5:"Porgy and Bess" As interpreted by Miles
Davis ( Trumpet Soloist) and master argajii|
GilEvafisysone.af JjevjjkjLf pojgf<i,of jazz and
the most emotionally satisfying of the collaborations betwefen these two gio|w:|l&
July 12: Resident saxophone master Mike Allen
will join Gavin to present some favourites and
to discuss and feature an advance preseYtfaf
tion of Mike's new recording.
July 19: In tribute to one of the most distinctive
of all jazz pianists and also one of the best
selling jazz recordings of all time: The Jazz
Show presents Errol Gamer's "Concert by the
Sea".     . ^|||ip
July 26: "Now Hear Thisl" is. a recording by
one of the better working Je&jC bands of
the 1960's. Co-led by philadelphians 'Ted
Curson(trumpet) andjjpfBarron (tenor saxophone) with youfiger brother Kenny (piojjjo);
Ronnie Boykins on bass and Dick Berk on
drums.... This rare recording is a smoker and a
cooker, don't miss thisl
Hosted by Trevor. It's punk rock, baby! Gone from
the charts but not from our hearts—thank fucking Christ.
DJ Christopher Schmidt also hosts Organix at
Club 23 (23 West Cordova) every Friday.
Bluegrass, old-time music and its derivatives with
Arthur and "The Lovely Andrea" Berman.
9:30AM-11:30 AM
Open your ears and prepare for a shock! A
harmless note may make you a fan! Hear
the menacing scourge that is Rock and Roll!
Deadlier than the most dangerous criminal!
FILL-IN alt.
11:30 AM-12:30PM
Movie reviews and criticism.
Where dead samurai can program music.
«En Avant la musique!)) se concentre sur le
m6tissage des genres musicaux au sein d'une
francophonie ouverte a tous les courants. This
program focuses on cross-cultural music and
its influence on mostly Francophone musicians.
Tansi Kiyaw alt.
Tansi kiyaw? Is Michif-Cree (one of the Metis
languages) for "Hello, How are you?" and is a
monthly Indigenous music and spoken word
show. Hosted b June Scudeler (for those who
know me from other shows-I'm Metis!), the show
will feature music and spoken word as well as
events and news from Indian country and special guests. Contact me at jlscudel@ucalgary.ca
with news, even listings and ideas. Megwetch!
Join the sports dept. for their coverage of the
Up the punx, down the emo! Keepin' it real
since 1989, yo. flexyourhead.vancouverhardc
es«cap»ism n: escape from the reality or routine
of life by absorbing the mind in entertainment
or fantasy.
Host: DJ Satyricon.
It could be punk, ethno, global, trance, spoken
word, rock, the unusual and the weird, or it
could be something different. Hosted by DJ
6:00AM-7:00AM |
' 7:00AM-9:00AM
ANOIZE .   "J^jj£.-
Luke Meat irritates and educates through musical
deconstruction. Recommended for the strong.
Independent news hosted by award-winning
journaists Amy Goodman and Juan Gonzalez.
Cycle-riffle rawk and roll!
Primitive, fuzzed-out garage mayhem!
Socio-political, environmental activist news and
spoken word with some music, too.
(First Wednesday of every month.)
Vancouver's   only industrial-electronic-retro-
goth program. Music to schtomp to; hooted
by Coreen.
A sex positive bi-weekly news magazine, hosted
by Maura Ingram, www.primalradio.net
Roots music fpjKfolkies and non-folkies... blue-
grass, singer-songwriters, worldbeat, alt c^yJitM
and more. Not a miragel
8:00AM-10:00AM       '^^^p
Music inspired by Chocolate Thunder, Robert
Robot drops electro past and present,
hip hop and intergalactic funkmanship.
FIRED UP      *
Ever told yourself "I can't even boil water, let
alone cook a chicken or stir-fry vegetables!"
Let Chef Marat show you the way to create
easy meals prepared in the comfort of your
own kitchen/bechelor pad or car. OK, maybe
not the car. Wouldn't want to spill anything on
the upholstery.
Crashing the boy's club in the pit. Hard and fast,
heavy and slow (punk and hardcore).
Comix comix comix. Oh yeahl and some music
with Robin.
DJ Knowone slaves over hot-multi-track to bring
a fresh continuous mix of fresh every week.
Made from scratch, samples and just a few
drops of fame. Our tables also have plethora
of guest DJs, performers, interviews, giveaways.
Strong Bad and the occasional public service
announcements. <eno_wonk@yahoo.ca> DiSCORDERV   J U L Y ' 0 4
5:00PM-6:00PM alt.
Local Dave brings you local music of all sorts.*The
program most likely to play your band!
Viva la Velorution! DJ Helmet Hair and Chainbreaker
Jane give you all the bike news and views
you need and even cruise around while doing it!
Now in it's 15th and final year, your most reliable
source for Indie Pop. Thanks to all the regular listeners over the years! Tune in for an entertaining
farewell tour.
The best in roots, rock 'n' roll and rhythm and blues
from 1942-1962 with your snappily-attired host,
Gary Olsen.
July 01 - The Hooded Fang
July 08- Lazarazu
July 15- Jeff Byrner/Nero/Ape
July 22- Esperanto
July 29- Paul is Dead/The Diskettes
An old punk rock heart considers the oneness of all
things and presents music of worlds near and far.
Your host, the great Daryl-arii, seeks reassurance
via <woridheat@hotmail.com>.
6:00AM- 8:00AM
Trawling the trash heap of over 50 years' worth of
real rock 'n' roll debris.
Bmail requests to: <djska_t@hotmail.com>
Top notch crate digger DJ Avi Shack mixes the
underground hip hop,.old school classics and
original breaks.
A volunteer-produced, student and community
newscast featuring news, sports and arts. Reports
by people like you. "Become the Media." To get
k^Syia'* vfswf www.cifr.ca and click "News Dept."
David "Love'^orW'ttf^yoU^w^besl "nfcw/<pd
,,6ja^jcg?^»uPLcitin, samba, bossa and African
music from around the vVonaVS" ,-
HJgis^iai py DJ Noah: techno but also some trance.
acid, tribal, Ole^Guest DJs, interviews, retrospectives, giveaways, and rfjOe^V.-/
Dark, sinister music of all genres to soothe the
Dragon's soul. Hosted by Drake.
Studio guests, new releases, British comedy sketch-*
es, folk music calendar and ticket giveaways.
8AM-9AM: African/World roots. 9AM-12PM: Celtic
music and performances.
A fine mix of streetpunk and old school hardcore
backed by band interviews, guest speakers, and
social commentary.
Vancouver's only true metal show; local demo,
tapes, imports, and other rarities. Gerald
Rattlehead, Dwain, and Metal Ron do the damage.
From backwoods delta low-down slide to urban
.harp honks, btues, and blues roots with your hosts
Jim, Andy and Paul.
Each show will make you feel as though you're is-
tening in on conversations between political insid-'
ere. As well, this guest and caller-driven programs its
guest from opposite ends of the corridor of public
argument against one another in ho-holds barred
debate that takes you behind today's headlines.
An exciting chow of Drum n' Bass with Dj's MP & Bias
on the ones and 1wos, plus gusts, Usten for gjvawas
everyweek. Keep feelin da beatz.
9:00PM-1 1:00PM
11:0OPM-1:00AM 1111111
Cutting-edge, progressive organ music with resident Haitchc and various guest performers/DJs.
Bye-bye civilisation, keep smiling blue, where's me
bloody anesthetic then?
"noiz terror mindfuck hardcore like punk/beatz drop
dem headz rock inna junglist mashup/distorf da
source full force with needlz on wax/my chaos
runs rampant when I free da jazz..." Out.
Hardcore dancehall reggae. Hosted by Sister B.
^•Regapejunkgp- T$=-
Pacific Picldh^iL-;'*,
'^li?'''     (RT)
Suburban Jungle Back
Breakfast With TheS
fWO)                    Door (EC)
End of the Worlc
Are You Serious? Music
Engaging the Word?(TK)
Rockers Show
Blood The Leo
On The Ramirez
Saddle Show
(RT) (WO)
MoshPit        Discorder
Etiquette (PU)   Radio One
Parts Unknown
Third Times The Charm
Beat Up
Sandbox Theatre
Absolute Beginners
5 Chips With Saint Tropez
Everything       .(PO)
Rhythms India
The Show
Radio Zero
Straight Talk
SonOfNite i
The Jazz Show
' .   (JZ)
Vengence Is Minel
' Psychedetic Airwaves
Circut Tracing!; l'r
En Avant La     Tansi Kiyav
Musique (FR) (EC)
Salario Minimo
'ffi^jjlllps^tk     Escapism
FlyTrap(EC) (EC)
Aural Tentacles
Exquisite Corpse
The Shake     For The Re-
(RR) cord (TK)
'f&Denypcracy Now
RumbleTone MotorDaddy
* RadiafRR) (RR)
Neccessary Voices
And Sometimes Why
alt. Blue Monday (Gl)
Folk Oasis (RT)
Hans Kloss' Misery Hour
First Floor Sound System
(EC)     :g-h'.
Planet LoveTron
Fired Up (TK)
Unpack your Adjectives
Steve and Mike
{HC}  V
The Onamanapoea
•   Show (TK)
Rhymes & Reasons
.    ■ (HH)
ScafKids Make   Pedal feeyo-
Good (EC) lufion (TK)
Out For Kicks
On Air With Greased
Hair (RR)
Uve From... Thunderbird
Radio Hell
World Heat
Laugh TracksfTK)    ' -
Caught In The Red
Ska-T's Scene-ik Drive
These are the Breaks
Narduar the Human
Serviette Presents...
CiTR News, Sports and
Arts (TK)
The Northern Wish
African Rhthms
I Like The        The Anti-
Scribbles        dote (EC1
The Vampires Ball
The Saturday Edge
Generation Annihilation i
Code Blue
Electrolux Hour
Synaptic Sandwich
Reggae Linkup
• DC-dance/electronic • EC-eclectic • EX»experimental • FR-French language • GI=goth/industrial • HC»hardcc
LO-lounge • MT=metal • NO=-noise • NW-Nardwuar • PO=pop • PU-punk • RG=reggae • RR-rock • RWoots
e • HH-hiphop • HK-Hans Kloss
SK-ska • SO-soul • SP-sports • Zulu's Wraparound Sounds
Embrace the Musy
A Ghost Is Bom CD
Further solidifying their position
as one of today's preeminent
American bands, Jeff Tweedy s   J
Wilco return with easily their moss!
comprehensive sonic statement.
While the experimental production,.
line-up controversy and record label drama of 2002s epic
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot will no doubt remain the turning
point of Tweedy s songwriting vision and the group's
career, this latest release marks the full emergence of
Wilco s greatness. A Ghost is Bom delicately balances
everything that Wilco is capable of; frenetic rock anthems,
tender ballads, loose bar room alt-country rave-ups and of
course their gorgeous melodic interplay of classic keys,
guitar and crooning vocals. Again America's finest producer, Jim O'Rourke, oversees the record's sonic palette,
guiding sprawling tracks, like the 10+ minute 'Spiders',
through a landscape of free-jazz guitar leads and shimmering organ breaks only to return to it's base and ballsy
chorus. Elsewhere, the upright piano driven
'Hummingbird' spotlights Wilco s Americanized take on
the Beatle-esque backbeat pop accented by evocative
cello and violin instrumentation. All told, this is another
genre defying release well worth all the critical praise —
stop by for a listen!
CD 16.98
The Outemational Sound CD
Credited with changing the shape of today's downtempo
scene, Eric Hilton and Rob Garza aka. Thievery
Corporation are responsible for introducing the smooth
blend of Latin, Arabic and Caribbean sources to today's
ultra-swank beat culture. Their previous records define the
genre offering sexy beats with global jet-set clubber accent
and flair. On this latest sojourn, the dynamic downtempo
duo dial in their DJing skills and return to the 'mix cd' format to give you multiple late nights of electro-lounge
groove ecstasy. Their eclectic mix includes near legendary
cuts from Thunderball, Crazy Penis, Boozoo Bajoo, Major
Force and many more!! Time to get in with their
CD 16.98
Mississauga Goddam CD
Returning with a sound that this time goes far beyond
mere comparisons to Belle and Sebastian, The
Magnetic Fields and Meat Is Murder' era Smiths,
Toronto's finest pop export offer this stellar follow-up to
their breakthrough 'Smell of Our Own'. Coming in at just
over 41 gorgeous minutes, these 11 beautiful tracks of
homoerotic baroque pop are an exquisite celebration of
sensuality for all ears. Capturing the incredible energy of
their technicolor live show, which resembtesta 'gay-folk-
church-dance-party', The Hidden Cameras' troupe take
the party atmosphere into the studio as-tracks like 'Fear is
On' and 'Music is My Boyfriend' build slowly only to climax into a full on rave up folk-rock eruption! This is s-e-
CD 14.98
out you went by f or iHRstt
While making love, a song magically came to you with a tantric chorus of psychedelic 11
guitars from a bearded prophet who sang a sweet sutra  j
of carnal desire. Before reducing yourself of your wanton J
flesh, you promised each other the clarity to write his
words down before surrendering to the bliss of postcoital sleep. As your bodies Jay mingled on the wet sheets
the prophet continued his serenadin' from aloft his Pink
Mountaintop "Sweet Sweet 69*. This is a conceptually
dirty record for dirty conceptual times - wrap your legs
around it.
CD 12.98
Shake if You Got
Hello summer, I just found
your soundtrack! The debut
long player from VanCity's The
Cinch, and the long awaited follow-up to 2002'$TJgictHoved self-titled
of their Stereolab-meet-the-Feelies-in-t
alleys-and-have-a-drone-fight vibe. My god,
abound! "Forwards & Backwards", "Fade
Fog' are all perfect heavy pop rockers
known for, while "Painkiller" (featuring a
ripped guitar riff) and "Losinf %btT*"
dreamy & noisy Fall/Neu! path the bar
live. There's also the unmistakable Wil
on Mark Epp's guitar work which beci
more apparent every minute. This is
cracked street hassle of the year! AVi
CD 14.98
Dont Let Your Youth Go To
WasteDVD      Jl
Where were you when you fward thaftsafaxn&iO <-.
broke up7 The shocking news cam* Doty weeks *■*"'
after their only live appearance in VancotMer openiflgjof
the Cocteau Twins Sudtter^ the ^ve^sewtecoWar^' i
empty. A giant star tad exploded leaving      id a tfotif
of gas and spaue dust Staringinie the WacR'ffote, rn&gibe
you too wondered what would become of Bam, ftanmt
and Naomi'' B^r^theyo^usmaiJ^shgrty^ais-
would have to last a lifetime. WeU, f inaJteJfeve oat sornjsv
thing else ta keep you flows, ajjpptehijnijgve video dac::
umentary of tf irdtuentia^^stori college rock act.:
net yet toreform.or crudely Jttsfeib. Seatugfiajtitixt their
experimental student film videos;
api earance, as well as two entire live concerts with-sfif
rate audio tracks, this double DVD set is msjB^orfpw-
ing tjritose ir^teted'ihlMfishnleSWiBlP^.fnJay,
leboy .
 Pmck Drake,
FWM^^^W^pthe best oTthe old school 60s
M6aSadeer^a,iw|h s piano/acoustic guitar song-
wrififig-Wirft"^sffigtrt over the course of these fourteen gorgeous neW flCBftbers offering some of his catchiest melfldiestao1fte,£heckout today's Pink Moon!
tfcv,*-'      '£,:.
Music By Michael Campitelli
It t ttaid:the cssh to make something good I'd give it to
tfftsvjr Send bis ass down to LA with a wrench to pull
*<}jtt the gold teeth in theft s^ *"m sm''e- Why? Gritty
. ^«8Jjsm is net achwsedffi the studio back lots. Gritty   ..'
rtDewrt-ijeTne With a bunch of extras looking to
i^^^^pPunk'd drama. Traffic sucked. So
SaWJVf tj^pM Spun off right after the opening
"r"*3^^H^xt NoNywod ta,es from *** S"1'
jtaMflft with the scene On the Corner!
isJfpipil, including this pretty sweaty
ndjr&kfrwrriocal producer Michael Campitelli
&fc.&1£Ham$fe*. Hf* gritty landscape of 70's beats,.
. Satiefuiuftim fceyferjards and wah-wah excess set the
tone biff time. Iteeonynended
CD 10.98
|Qt# WwSaby1 Black
3^^ Batsrphe rally
^Slad tike-gjandma
ytSSfy^m^Br through
tfieu&kjtiitous crowd gathered in the brownstone
Btatittyn kjR. fa eight by ten greenhouse had been
mstaBedm the middle of the space and some balloon art
hat® fiji the wafts giving the ash colored room the
verisimilar <fJMa late ?0s no-wave art roast.
'. ,WJti£b ftriBsT Bice would be showing up? Was this to
telblf|t0$fsjnl>t^ets electroclash incarnation that
fta* dropped &$$& s HJA coming out party? Or was it
Hg|xpf|jmentalists that flirted the
 mifrve' electro ijjustrialists
[■ambient tno who in true J
I landscape of Ioods. effee;
was so muctt smoke in th
hand in front of my face"
dothes, the
other in country attire) begin
an intellectual debate with the
simple statement: "Rock must be hard-~% it will not
be at all". Lowering his periodical, the handsome
onlooker alertly listens to their transgressive argument.
Before him the cinnamon scented courtyard contains a
guitar slinger's chocolate mare, a US postal wagon,
some very peculiar Oak trees and casl of-players * ,
including a pajama clad gentleman asleep on bench, an
absorbed backwards cyclist, a slightly haggard castaway rumrunner, and a hand tied prisoner with an
upright piano. With a certain Fellini precision the camera cranes away to an overhead vantage as the "Rock is
Hard" debate dissolves into a dreamy din of fuzz guitar.
The cat7 denizen exits left of frame, taking with him his
black fedora and bamboo fishing pole, only to immediately loop in from the right. A fascinating scene?
Indeed, Vancouver's nimble conceptualist Rodney
Graham has finally delivered the soundtrack to his
complex universe'— if only all rock stars could be so
arty. Recommended Baby.
CD 12.98
Get In the Mood:
Blackout Beach- Light Flows From
Putrid CD
Molasses- Trouble at Jinx Hotel CD
David Grubbs- A Guest at the Riddle
Pan American- Quiet City CD/DVD
For Stars- It Fails Apart CD
The Fitness- Call Me For Together
Boom Bip- Corymb CD/2LP
Josh Rouse- The Smooth Sounds
Shins - Fighting in a Sack CDEP
Mono - Walking Cloud and Deep Red
Sky CD
Wagon Christ - I'm Sorry CD/2LP
>e Brief§-J§yy>jects CD/LP
Zulu Records
1972-1976 W 4th Ave
Vancouver BC
tel 604.738.3232


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