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dj CHICLET w»ththesugarcookses
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PURCHASE TICHETS 3QQ10S AT hob.com OR ticketmastei
0-4444/www.ticketmaster.ca DiSCORDER
Spoon by Duncan McHugh p.10
Animal Collective by Merek Cooper p.12
Boy by Kat Siddle p.14
Appleseed Cast by sweetcheyanne p. 15
The Art of Sean Maxey p.l6
Covering Fire p.4
Fucking Bullshit p.4
The Truth p.5       '1|JSij|
Strut and Fret p.6
Panarticon p.6
Over My Shoulder p.7
Road Worn and Weary: The Nasty On p.10
Riff Raff p. 18
Screw You and Your Pointy Shoes p.l 9
Under Review p.20
Real Live Action p.24
Mystery Takeout Box p.26
A Kick in the Head p.26
Kickaround p.26
Charts p.27
On the Dial p.28
Datebook p.30
Sean Maxey designed the cover. I interviewed
him and we hit it off. He offered to help and I
said yes. I didn't realise it would be so good.
Much credit must also go to Hana MacDonald
who took the wonderful photo which was his
starting point. They are both stars.
"DiSCORDER" 2003 by the Studen
reserved. Circulation 17,500. Subs
5 for one year, to residents of the I
ver postage, of course). Please mak
Merek Cooper
Ad Wrangler:
Steve DiPo
Art Director:
Lori Kiessling
Production Manager:
Esther Whang
Editorial Assistant
Donovan Schaefer
RLA Editor:
Gabby De Lucca
Website Design:
Esther Whang
Layout and Design:
Merek, Lori and Chris
Lori, Chris Parton, Keith
Turkowski, Cheyanne, Patrick,
On the Dial:
Bryce Dunn
Julie Colero
Miss Whang
Matt Steffich
US Distro:
Frankie Rumbletone
Lydia Masemola
Radio Society of the University of British Columbia. All
:riptions, payable in advance, to Canadian residents
SA are $15 US; $24 CDN elsewhere. Single copies are $2
cheques or money orders payable to DiSCORDER Maga-
22nd and can be booked by ca
DiSCORDER is not responsible for
artwork (including but not limite<
DiSCORDER at discorder@club.ai
From UBC to Langley and
as through all major cable sys
CiTR DJ line at 822.2487, our t
ext. 2. Fax us at 822.9364, e-mail
pick up a goddamn pen and wri
or the Septemb
ling Steve at 60
'ice at 822.3017 e:
; at: citrmgr@mail.ai
r #233-6'138 SUB Blvc
st 8th. Ad space is available until August
3. Our rates are available upon request.
id transparencies), or any other unsolic-
Iways, English is preferred. Send email to
R can be heard at 101.9 fM as well
ir, BC, V6T 121, CANADA.
66 water st Vancouver be
604 683 6695
for more info on these shows and our complete calendar log onto
a small Introduction
Don't get me wrong,
there are lots of things
that I don't like about
this country—they're probably
the same things you don't like
about it. Come to think of it,
they're exactly the same things
that I don't like about where
I come from; you know, lying
politicians, barely visiable social
welfare initiatives, and the seemingly unstoppable march of
The  one  thing  I  do  like,
however—and I've an objective
opinion about this, remember—is
this magazine, this radio station
and, more generally, this town's
fantastically rich cultural dirtiate.
You guys take it for granted
sometimes, but you really
shouldn't. I can honestly say that
I've never known such an amazing concentration of talented
people. This magazine and this
radio station reflect this.
The one thing that I would
have to criticise is the lack of help
we here at DiSCORDER receive.
No matter what you think, having
Red Cat
New & Used
ph. 708 9422 * email buddy *redtatca
a magazine like this is really, really
special. And to make this magazine we need help. And yes, YOU
can help.
I put this photo in, not
because I'm vain (well, maybe
a little bit), but so if you see me
around town and you wanna
help, you can come up and
talk to me. I'm a nice guy. Ask
around. Or, if you want, you
could come right up and see me
at the office. Or call or email. Or
whatever—telepathy maybe. I
hear that sometimes works. •
Alright, . alright. Everyone
keeps nagging me for this
list. Some of these guys are my
friends, you know, so try not to be
judgmental. Just remember that
the size of the porker isn't that
important. It's more about how
good their band is. As you can
see, the cock hasn't much to do
with the rock.
Here it is, you nosey jerks.
Just try not to spread it around.
Don't ask me how I got it, but it's
all true.
AND ROLL! (From the greatest to
the least.)
Large: Sooyoung Park (nine inches—SOFT!), Marc Ribot, Michael
Dahlquist, Morrissey (plus or
minus an inch and half standard
deviation, i.e. the state of the
curve), Michael Jackson, Don
Henley, Dan Bejar (may or may
not be confirmed), Chris Wilson,
Tom Verlaine, Robert Gotobed,
Pink (her dick is way bigger than
you'd think), Dave Allen, Poncho
Sampedro, Krist Novoselic, that
guy from Bush, the drummer
from the Gin Blossoms, and Mark
Mothersbaugh (good enough to
make the big list).
Regular: David Yow, Duane
Denison, David Wm. Sims, Mac
McNeilly, Steve Albini, John
Flansburgh, Henry Rollins (okay,
irregular—more like a can of
soup). Thorn York, Yamatsuka
Eye, Phil Collins, Dean Ween,
Greg Sage, Jimmy Fleming,
Dennis Fleming (Jimmy's has
got a little more style, if you hear
what I'm saying), John Zorn,
Mark Eitzel, Lars Ulrich (believe it
or not), Brian May, Sam Prekop,
D, Q-Tip—oh, wait, that's not
off the rock and roll list—uh,
Ian MacKaye, one of the guys
that was in that one REM video,
Mark Arm, KK Null, Glenn Branca,
Robert Christgau, Bob Mould,
David Thomas, Neil Hamburger,
Bob Weston, Al Johnson, and
Justin Timberlake.
Small: Lou Reed, Nick Cave,
Mark E. Smith  (sorry,  buddy).
Everyone keeps nagging me
for this list. Just remember thot
the size of the porker isn't thot
importont It's more obout how
good their bond is.
Stephen Malkmus (if he can get it
up), John Balance, Arto Lindsay,
Sean Lennon, Pat Smear, Green
Day's roadie (I forget his name),
Nardwuar the Human Serviette,
Rodney Graham, Meg White,
Jack White, Dale Crover, Iggy
Pop, Elvis Costello, Bryan Adams,
Noel Gallagher, Johnny Marr,
Roch Voisine, Ron Wood, Keith
Richards, Bill Wyman, Charlie
Watts, Mick Jagger (that's in
order, remember),  Jay-Z, Chuck
Gene Ween, Sting, all the girls in
Interpol, all the dudes in Sleater-
Kinney, Robert Pollard, Jon
Spencer, Merzbow, Bill Callahan,
Roger Waters, John Reis, Glenn
Danzig (surprise!), Cher (she just
started to develop one), Dave
Matthews, David Johansen,
David Bowie, Britt Daniel, GG
Allin (RIP), and Will Oldham.
Unfortunately, Willy doesn't have
one at all. •
wi AW$on matj1 fock tfi0 ^turns      "^i
mm then 2nd some unyon full length               I
11 new songs in a more mellow, mstorJic vein,    f j
Catch KITCHENS & BATHROOMS on TOUR":       \\
Aug22-Vancouver BC | Brickyard                If
Aug 24-Victoria BC | Logan's Pub               II
l^^^l^^^      out July 29th     1 m
mSBto ^^r^^Btojifa.   -2003   11J
Sept 09 - Vancouver BC j Green Room             If
Sept 10-Victoria BC | Steamers                    '1
Sept 11 - Vancouver BC J Sugar Refinery            I
Sept 13 - Kamloops BC j The Grind                   '
4f SONIC UNYON              |
^^NsSonic unyon records po box 57347 jackson station hamjltonon !8p 4x2 ph: 905.777.1223 fax: 905.777.1161 enuuiyerks@soflicunyon.com
4 August 2003 as told by chris eng
N^fc-w-" «s
All I want is what I like to
believe most people
want: the truth.
I like to believe that most
people want that, but I'm not
sure. Because, much like Fox
Mulder, I know the truth is out
there, but not enough people
are looking for it—fucking hell,
I'm not looking for it. I'm sitting
here with a bemused expression
on my face while Skye Sweetnam
parades back and forth on my
TV set followed by Big Brother
4 and sponsored by Pepsi. P.S.
You deserve a break today.
In a Ford fucking truck. You
know—the best a man can get.
And as I was watching the
idiot box tonight, singing along
with "Pop Muzik" by M, I realized exactly how much shite was
stored in my head, and exactly
why I had been christened "Pop
Culture Guy" by my friends. It's
because I know all this stuff. ALL
this stuff. And so what if I do?—it
seems to be half of society's
fondest wish to be able to
amass as much crap trivia as it
can safely (or unsafely) digest.
Yeah, it sure does—but then
that half just likes to lean back
and breathe deep and hard
after sating itself on a weekly (or
nightly) feast of Fear Factor and
Everybody Loves Raymond, not
willing to dissect what it has just
devoured and certainly not willing to stay up until 11 to watch
the news and listen to the news
and take apart systematically
what they just saw on the news
because they ' didn't—and
couldn't—believe a fucking thing
that was reported on the news.
And to me that's shoddy living.
And just to reinforce it one more
time—I'm as guilty of it as anyone.
Three years ago, I was Mr.
Rah-Rah-Canada. I didn't go so
far as to get the flag tattooed on
my ass, but I got Peter Puck tattooed on my shoulder jockey
were, my soapbox (or website,
whichever term you prefer) failed
and my voice faltered. I was still
able to spout off in a magazine,
but personal difficulties crept in
and my energies were stolen and
refunneled into effecting patchwork repairs on other aspects
of my existence. The framework
was left in place, but the actual
structure was abandoned, and
nobody even wanted to squat it.
Three years on and nothing
much has changed. I'm still a
dumping ground for pop culture's detritus, but my willingness
or sense of obligation to search
fast as their clean-up crews can
scrub the poison droplets from
the ground, and maybe it's just
that I'm tired of allowing myself to
believe that a Burger King commercial is more important than
my soul, especially when I'm in a
position to do something about it.
And I can do something
about it. I will tear apart their
facades and burn them to the
ground with the sheer intensity
of my fury and indignation. I'll ferret out political travesties and
bald-faced lie-mongering and
shout it down from the rooftops.
I'll kneel before their fat proffered American Idols and golden
calves, not in ardor or self-abasement, but because it gives me a
better shot at their soft underbellies. I'll take whatever they can
throw at me and toss it back
twice as hard. I will use my knowledge of their sweetest offerings
and cleverest tactics to dismantle
the Monster from the ground up.
And maybe I'll only get
as far as taking apart its thick,
coarse,, mud and manure-clotted back hoof before it raises a
mighty leg and stomps down on
me, but it's that or trudge along
dutifully behind it, being shat on
and cradling its every smelly,
■festering shit like it was manna
from the Blessed Madonna herself. Just like the rest of the herd.
Let me fill you in on something, though: that regulation
issue shit-scooping shovel's
got a pretty mean edge on it
if you sharpen it up. And the
Beast towering over us? Its
gorged, bloated belly hanging
down just over our heads? Well,
that's just a big fucking pihata.
Batter up. •
I'm tired of allowing myself to believe that a
Burger King commercial is more important
than my soul
Night in Canada mascot in
the '70s; taught kids the rules
of hockey—don't worry about
it; there's no test on this part). I
didn't believe in the system, but I
believed in the country. I scoured
the news like a motherfucker,
scrutinizing every word, cross-
referencing stories, pulling apart
capsule stories like the crew on
CSI dig through human filth. I tried
to get the word out about what
I found. I tried to make a differ- -
ence. Times being what they
out the inconsistencies and
backstories in today's news tapestry hasn't returned. Until now.
Because maybe it takes realizing
you know the lyrics to the most
banal fossilized disco turd you
can imagine to shake you out of
your stupor and force you to use
your powers for good and not
evil, and maybe it's knowing that
every word that falls from every
electeddfficial's lips is nothing but
pure, undiluted venom and their
lies are only being covered up as
STOCKS & *0?MS . AlffiUST 1STH
"   ' "Every now and then a band comes along that breaks barriers,
crosses genres and blows the music formula out of the water.
Warsawpack is set on bringing both a musical and political
revolution to the forefront.
Welcome to the next generation of indie music."
i  (Impact Press}
670331 warsawpack
Stocks & Bombs
Outside the Unbearable
Grows   -..
by Penelope
Fish It a Train ot Okas
Dancing on the Edge
Firday. July 11
Firehall Arts Centre
I'm glad I gave Tongue another
chance. When the L.A. based
company crashed the stage
at Dancing on the Edge two
years ago, everyone was duly
flabbergasted by the dancers'
athletic power and physical
endurance—but it just wasn't
the kind of movement-for-its-own
sake that can drag my imagination and emotions into the ring.
Evocation was strangled by spectacle and by later that evening,
I'd forgotten all about it.
With Fish is a Train of Glass.
choreographer Stephanie
Gilliland has proven that without
altering one muscular syllable of
her kinetic vocabulary, she can
turn it into a vehicle for thoughts
and images that stick to your ribs
long after you've left the table.
Fish is described as a
contemplation of "intimacy,
survival, image and perception
from shifting perspectives and
points of view"—which, broadly
speaking, pretty much sums up
our concerns as we leap, plod,
and shimmy through life in the
world. The dance progressed in a
series of vignettes; apparent non
sequiturs, but all portraying some
attempt at intimacy or connection. The message seemed to be
that the former is unattainable
for more than fleeting moments
and that the latter is an illusion.
Nothing tragic or maudlin here,
though—just a kind of bittersweet
exhilaration mixed with .Buster
Keaton sadness.
The dancers used each other
like climbing frames in a crazy
melange of contact improvisation, gymnastics, and Capoeira,
but everything poured so seamlessly into the avalanche of
movement that technical references all but disappeared.
Even the quieter segments
hooked you. In one of them,
seven people entered in separate compartments of the same
massive cope. Alone or in pairs,
they gradually slipped out of it
and exited, leaving it to hang
like a useless burden on a lone
performer. In another, a man
stuck his head under'a woman's
dress as she lay on the floor and
carefully crawled into the garment with her. The accordion
music which accompanied their
gentle, comic duet put them
on a boulevard in Paris. (OK, it
helped that the woman was a
ringer for Isabelle Huppert.)
Particularly impressive was
the way Gilliland used video.
Although she conceived,
directed, and edited the segments using her own company
as performers, they had the look
of a hazy, '60s Euro-flick. When
6 August 2003
dancers would stop, mid-thrash,
to lie down facing the screen, we
were watching the images with
them: a couple on a bed; people
running in stop-motion across a
concrete expanse.
The piece roared to a close
with a demented game of musical chairs in which the company vaulted, cartwheeled, and
flipped into and out of the flimsy
furniture with what should have
been its last ounce of strength.
Yet all this thoroughbred virtuosity
didn't distance us from the performers. In an exaggerated way,
they were showing us ourselves;
reminding us that our bodies
are the resilient but expendable
containers for everything we
go through—and when they're
like a mafia don.
Although the film opens with
the cautionary quote, "He who
seeks revenge must remember
to dig two graves," it's hardly a
morality tale about vengeance.
What we get is a giddy study of
the singleminded passion which
drives it—and, as the avenging
Vindici, Christopher Eccleston
breaks his own record for manic
Cox keeps comedy, tragedy, and horror in nice proportion, often firing off all three at
once—as when Vindici has periodic chats with his beloved's skull.
The man is in agony and the skull
(still sporting long, auburn tresses)
is grotesque, but the scenes are
hilarious. The Duke (Derek Jacobi
the sound of spectacle
by tobias v
finished, all the other stuff (as
we know it) is finished too. Hope
I think of that the next time I look
in a mirror.
The Revenger's Tragedy
Cinemuerte Film Festival
Saturday, July 12
Pacific Cinematheque
Something about England makes
it the perfect fit for centuries-old
stories that get partially bumped
into the present. Perhaps because
of its enduring love of costumed
excess and antique decadence,
anachronism is never an issue.
It's also a great setting for post-
apocalyptic nightmares, and with
The Revenger's Tragedy, director
Alex Cox (of Repo Man and Sid
and Nancy fame) gets to have it
both ways.
A screen adaptation by
Frank Cotrell Boyce relocates
Thomas Middleton's 1607 play
from Renaissance Italy to 2011
Liverpool, where streets appear
deserted and flies buzz around
the corpses of passengers in a
wrecked bus. Into.this wasteland
walks Vindici, a former citizen with
a Clint Eastwood-type score to
settle. Years before, his new bride
was murdered by a womanizing
Duke who, along with a quintet of
baroquely punk sons, runs the city
at his most squishily depraved)
coolly offs any lady who rebuffs
his advances, and his sons are
a parody of fashion-conscious
thuggishness. One of them is
a lisping, spikey-haired blonde
who applies his make-up at the
breakfast table, the youngest is
boffing his mother and most of
them have a ludicrous number of
facial piercings.
Cox is clearly enjoying himself
with all this outrageousness, but
he rarely allows the laughs—or
the gore—to overwhelm the
tale's essential gravity. Things
are also anchored by a complex
and satisfying performance from
Eddie Izzard as the Duke's heir,
Lussurioso. He plays him impish
and witty, but gives the character enough depth to make you
regret the betrayal which Vindici
has planned for him.
The film rides along on a brilliantly appropriate soundtrack
from Chumbawamba. Without
manipulating our responses, it
never lets us forget that this is a
tragedy, after all.
I'm baffled, though, by the
film's final two shots. Either Cox
was being embarrassingly obvious or too elliptical for his own
good, and I'd like to ask him what
he had in mind. •
Olympic Orgasms, On Tap
Down high from the Mount,
Olympia has crowned Vancouver
for 2010... And, like EXPO 86, the
Olympics will bring irreversible
change—both pleasurable and
perverted—to the West Coast
Paradise. But there's little point
in fighting this impending behe-
mouth of greed, televised stupor-
sport, and corporate ad-guzzling.
Indeed, let's all join hands in
a giant group orgy and Breed
the Olympic Spirit by Offering a
few suggestions to the Olympic
Committee, as we get down
on our knees and beg—like the
dirty hypocrites we are—for that
tasty piece of the funding pie...
and thus I offer the first suggestion in what will become a
new series in Paharticon: readers are encouraged to write
in   their   own   brain-bubbles...
Suggestion Uno: A new national
anthem. Our anthem sucks. Burn
the old dirge—not only because
it's a diatribe of religious ideology—but because it has a hook/
limerick combination as rousing as
a funeral march—which it practically is: our nation's sing-song was
composed as a hymn by Calixa
Lavallee in 1880 for a spirited
poem by Judge Adolphe-Basile
Routhier. We should have listened
to history: nobody paid much
attention to the damn dirge
until... well, really until 1980, when
it was all settled as Canada's
national anthem. For a while
there were several sets of lyrics
via competing scribes, including such memorable passages
as: "At Britain's side/Whate'er
betide," "Guide then one/Empire
wide," and—my personal favourite (and closest to the French)—
"Beneath the shdde of the Holy
Cross/Thy children own their
birth." (I'm not too sure whether
I should feel comforted or frightened  that  "I  own  my  birth".)
Today's lyrics just compact
these imperialistic, good ol'
Brit/French colonial and God-
fearin' themes into only slightly
more metaphoric language:
"The True North, strong and free
[note the 'true,' here]"; "True,
patriot love [more true, of patriotism for the trufh]/ln all thy Sons
[no women] command [obey,
fuckers!—obey fhe frufh!]/God
keep our land/Glorious and free
[Well, here it is—a plea to God to
get into the action—in case this
obeying stuff falls through]." In
French, Canada's national chant
reveals its "true" origins—apparently jotted down in some frozen
Catholic schoolhouse during
a particularly rotten Quebec
winter. Here's the official English
translation, and I print it here in
full—my comments interpolated.
"Canada! Land of our forefathers  [Well, not really: we're
competitiveness as a "people"
would disintegrate, and a feeling
of cosmopolitanism would flood
the "glowing hearts." It would no
longer even be "international" or
"transnational," but something
exterior to the "nation" altogether, something global, something
of the multitudes... There would
be dangers in this tactic—any
attempt to attach our "nation"
to a fragment that could not be
sung at all could result in bitter
infighting. We'd have to watch
that. Quebec would not be
happy—but they weren't happy
that Vancouver got the Olympics
anyway. (Apparently "it hurt their
future chances." Quebec's petty
"nationalism'" is not distinct—it's
ignorant. Viva autonomia, but
What would be better then, instead
of "O! Canadal"...? Easy—electronic
music. That's right, bring on a completely    non-lyric    "national    anthem"
immigrants, and this is certainly
not "our land." The "forefathers"
and "foremothers" are First
"Nations"]/Thy brow is wreathed
with a glorious garland of flowers [Note the Christian imagery:
the poetic, historical, and patriarchal "head" of Canada is
wreathed]/As in thy arm ready
to wield 4he sword [Canada is
thy North American saviour—and
He carries Vengeance and
Might via Death—the Sword]/So
also is it ready to carry the cross
[i.e., salvation—wrought Tirst by
the sword; the cross is "also...
ready"—but not a necessity. In
fact, the other "arm" remains
empty while the sword must be
put down to "carry the cross."
Note these are arms, as in "bear
arms"—not hands, which usually do other things—like caress,
touch, and love, as well as
create. A "handy"—or, better,
"army"—doctrine in dealing with
"Natives."]/Thy history is an epic of
the most brilliant exploits [Indeed,
it is: exploit/ations]/Thy valour
steeped in faith [No Comment]/
Will protect our homes and our
rights [Take note: rights and property—capitalism—are entwined
via   a   Christian   humanism]."
Well! What would be better,
♦hen, instead of "O Canada!"?
Easy—electronic music. That's
right, bring on a completely non-
lyric "national anthem" and I am
down—be it stoned and laughing or grooving out to our new
Olympic microfunk (Montreal
glitch massive, get down to
the new national anthem
frooooommmmm...     AKUFENl).
For one, there would be
no more bickering about lyrics.
Arguments over representation and interpretation would
be obsolete—all that would
matter would be bodily affect.
For nothing glues' the world
today like the cross-cultural
thudding of beats. Or, for that
matter, the beauty bong-hits
of chill-out music—hell, drum &
bass, whatever: we could have
an uptempo version wrought by
techno producer Daniel Lui, a
dark and evil minimalist version
from Richie Hawtin, a cascading, granular-ambient epic from
Tim Hecker, and a cheesy prog
remix from Chris Sheppard. Why
not? We're a cheesy nation. ■
Embrace the cheese! In fact,
why not just commission an
entire symphony of electronic
refrains? Every time we had to
play the "anthem," there would
be such a selection to choose
from that our "national identity"
would completely dissolve, our
not when it means exclusive
politics of "home.") Imagine:
the new "national anthem"
could not even be accurately
hummed—the concept here
being to create a "national
anthem" that goes one step
further to dissolving the nation-
state—but don't tell the Feds or
the Olympic Committee that...
Yes, Vancouver Does Cool Now
Artist and freakster olo j. milkman wrote to tell me that Good
Things are erupting in the summer of street madness (hooray.
Critical Mass!). Apparently, the
beat collective Tribal Harmonix
has broached the threshold of
organization and energy, throwing some solid events—including
a few powered by bicycle-generators (silent and nonpolluting:
wicked). Fire-twirling, which I witnessed under a certain Bridge a
few months ago, has illuminated
a number of flagrations, including several on the Drive—see
<www.firespinners.com>. Also,
Secialconstruct.com has gathered together artists in a friendly
and hopefully profitable fashion;
freak-energy seems to be flowing toward the Coast—Toronto's
infamous minimalist Tomas Jirku
has flown the coop to VanCity
with Robin Judge, while Daniel
Gardner (aka Frivolous) has
joined us Montrealers. (And,
for those of you following Gl
Joe Kiliaz—now known simply
as The Kiliaz—this is why the
Commander is now dead.) Then
there's this year's New Forms
Festival, which hopefully will
present itself as a professional
entity after last year's spectacularly deconstructive performance. <newformsfestival.com>
Eeeeoeooeo eoe BOOM eei-
eieieeee   BOOM    BOOM...!    • City Of My Dreams
I owe Jhe title of this column to
Zsuzsi Gartner's short story of the
same name from her collection
All the Anxious Girls on Earth. The
city in question is Vancouver and
Lois, the protagonist of the story,
has an uneasy relationship with
yuppies, hippies, and activists
alike. In "City of My Dreams"
Vancouver's laid-back attitude
is so aggressive that it is stressful
to Lois.
The first time I read the story
I didn't understand what Gartner
was aiming for.
I missed all the references to
the lame aspects of Vancouver,
likely because mysuburban
upbringing didn't include weekend Whistler getaways, trips to
the beach in the summer or East
Vancouver neighbourly love. I
was just thrilled that it was obvious the unnamed city in the story
was my city. As if one can own a
city, or take pride in it as if it were
a significant other.
Most fiction is set in cities
other than our little west coast
maze of leaky condos and houses so bland that they're labeled
Usually the locale in question is the hometown of the
writer or the city they reside
in. This being said, Douglas
Coupland had to change the
location of Generation X to a
sunny American city because
his publishers didn't think that
people would care about a
Canadian city. Now he's made
a career out of writing about
North Vancouver and those who
are from that suburb cannot help
but love even duds like Girlfriend
In a Coma.
After relating my thoughts
on "City of My Dreams" to my
friend Anna (who moved from
Ontario to Vancouver in elementary school) things became clear.
She patiently explained why an
angry character in "City of My
Dreams" shouts, "Move back to
Toronto, bitch!" at a pedestrian
and the dozens of reasons why
that is funny.
Finally, a trip to the centre of
Canada's universe made everything very clear: Toronto is a city
we love to hate, while; tragically,
Vancouver is a place we love to
love. When I had my Toronto-
epiphany, I started laughing on
a streetcar and I thought about
"City of My Dreams".
It then occurred to me that
the official spin on our city is
annoying. It'd be better if we .
were a city that people loved
to hate: we'd be a city with
personality. Instead we're in
the same category as unicorns
and rainbows. Our mountains
and oceans make us lovely
and innocuous, adored without
thought. Worse yet, to give our
pretty little city more credibility, our tourism board casts
Vancouver as a handsome
jock who thinks "Canada Kicks
Ass." You know, the dude at the
moving to a place that I feel
I know because of television,
books and movies. Farewell city
of my waking hours. Hello city of
my dreams.
Stan Douglas
Every   Building   on   100   West
(Arsenal Pulp Press)
This is not a book of photographs,
though one might expect that
a Stan Douglas book might
take the form of a coffee table
book a cool kid would covet.
Instead, this collaboration
between the Contemporary
Art Gallery and Arsenal Pulp
Press is a collection of essays
exploring Douglas' prints. Every
You get a poster insert of the print. I want to
hang it above my desk so that I can see the
beauty in a place that has been deemed
Vancouver's worst neighbourhood
bar who's confident and radiates a sense of self-entitlement.
Vancouver kind of comes off as
a guy who thinks a beer commercial slogan is the most clever
media moment of the decade
and thinks patriotism is highly
important. If this is anything to go
by, Vancouver is the kind of guy
I'd kick out of bed.
Yet 1 love this city, despite
all the plastic people, nice cars,
and overpriced real estate.
Vancouver isn't just Kitsilano.
Nor is it Commercial Drive,
Strathcona, the West End or
Main Street. It's not Expo 86 or
Winter Olympics 2010. It's not
the Downtown Eastside nor is it
Kerrisdale. No single neighbourhood or dominant group of
people can represent a city, just
like a single character trait isn't
representative of a person.
My Vancouver consists of
the same ten people. You know,
the same ten people you see at
shows, restaurants, bookstores,
lectures, artist talks, galleries,
record stores, and sample sales.
Some of them are friends, and
others have been well-dressed
extras in the movie of my life. I'm
sad that I never had dialogue
with some of these people. And
this month, I'm saying goodbye
to my same ten people and
Building on  100 West Hastings.
First of all, you need to know
that the photograph the book
is based upon is stunning. The
100 block of West Hastings looks
colourful, inviting, and simply
gorgeous through the lens of
Stan Douglas' camera. It brings
to mind photographs from the
1960s of Hastings Street that captured diverse crowds walking on
the sidewalk, though there are no
people in the print. Those older
pictures capture a time when the
Downtown Eastside was a place
that families would wander, and
the residents of the area were
not yet scapegoats for the area's
decline. If you buy the book you
get a poster insert of the print. I
want to hang it above my desk
so that I can see the beauty in
a place that has been deemed
Vancouver's worst neighbourhood. v?^T4fe^.B
As for the essays, they are
well-researched, literate, and
compassionate. If I start talking
about them, I'll likely become
preachy, so I'll stop here and just
say that it's an excellent read.
Even if you think I've lead you
astray in the past, this is a book
worth reading. And finally, every
building on 100 West Hastings is
part of the city of my dreams. •
T^\vm9SSi **III Essfty e&
Hpfqrjural hair "produc^Sr^®^^
^SUF maintaining dreadlocks!    -
7 DiSCORDER nasty on
tour diary
The War Begins...
Tuesday, May 27, 2003
When I arrive at our space to
load gear, I am greeted by the
other men in the troupe: Jason
Grimmer, Matthew Lyons, and
Chad Mareels. Chad supplies
our vehicle (he began living in
it May 1st and now has three
smoking roommates) for this tour
of duty and has appropriately
outfitted the windows of the van
with metal grating. Our 100% all-
secure mobile jail is ready to go.
First battle is slated for Calgary's
Ship and Anchor.
Wednesday. May 28,2003
We arrive at the Ship to be
greeted by our already quite
wasted tour-mates of the next
week. Honeysuckle Serontina.
Much drinking begins. First band
sounds like Korn or something
bad. Good players. Ha ha. HS
begins destruction of Canada.
My drinking causes much string
breaking—to the chagrin of HS'
Dave Truscott, who has agreed
to change my strings this set. A
total of four. Thanks, Dave. I'll get
better. One man doesn't like us
but Jason points out that it is hard
to hear exactly what he is saying
over the yelling and screaming in
front of us. Ship rules. Nasty On 1,
Canada 0.
Thursday, May 29,2003
Chad spends eight hours customizing removable grates for the
driver/passenger door windows.
This is funny later. We arrive at The-
Vat in Red Deer to find a poster
listing neither us nor HS. We call
our pal Brad who says our agent
never confirmed the show. A
kind band from Winnipeg leaves
to make room for us. The battle
does not go well but I know the
bartender from the high school
rock circuit of my hometown,
North Battleford, Saskatchewan.
He was in Rubber Ostrich. He gets
me quite drunk. Only one broken
string. We go camping after the
show. Nasty On 1, Canada 1.
Friday, May 30,2003
I wake up in the glory of nature.
After some successful recon, I
express my joy with some sort
of towel dance that gets Jason
and Matthew quite excited. I
should calm down. There may be
enemy troops among us. When
we pull into Edmonton, we open
the windows to be bombarded
by pollen. This is bad. We arrive
at Seedy's. Our best fan, Susie,
shows up with 24 Heineken for
us. She has all our merch already
and says it's all she can do for us
now. I tell her that we are going
to stop making new albums and
shirts due to this fine development. My allergies start going
nuts. I know the sound guy from
the old Saskatoon all-ages scene.
He was in The Echoing Green. He
does not get me drunk. The show
is not well attended but, along
with HS, our heads are up and
the Canadian Warfare Tour must
go on. Nasty On 1, Canada 2.
Saturday. May 31,2003
I wake up with a fever and feeling quite hellish. Can't cancel
battles. The enemy will find you
regardless. We stop in N.B., Sask.,
for Buffalo burgers at my parents'
house. Next stop: Saskatoon's
Wash 'n Slosh. When we unload,
Chad leaves the gratings for the
driver/passenger windows leaning against a wall outside the
club. This is the last time we see
them. Ha ha. The venue is quite
cool and Chad begins doing
laundry. Matt tells tales of the
ghost trucker he's been seeing.
No, not romantically. The show is
very fun and fairly well attended
considering where we are. I cannot drink much but do anyway.
Nasty On 2, Canada 2.
Sunday, June 1,2003
Fever hasn't broken yet. I don't
leave the back bunk of our
vehicle. We drive to just inside the
Ontario border and set up camp.
I don't rise 'til morning.
Monday, June 2.2003
The fever has broken and moved
on to Jason and Matthew. The
shower sucks and I'm still quite
sick. I will have diarrhea for the
next few days due to not eating at all yesterday. We drive to
Thunder Bay for our show at The
Apollo. Can't remember the first
band. Maybe there were two? I
can't move at all on stage and
cannot sing either. Nasty On 2,
Canada 3. The four kids that are
there lite it anyway and buy
some merch. Drive all night to ■
Sault Ste. Marie.
Tuesday, June 3,2003
We arrive in The Sault at 9 am.
The next battle isn't 'til tomorrow
in Hamilton so we find the local
barracks and get ready to fight
the sickness for the next 24 hours.
Matthew vomits. Ha ha.
Wednesday. June 4.2003
Hamilton's Underground. We've
played here before and look
forward to having a better night
than last time. We've parted with
HS for now and meet up with 3
Inches of Blood. Also fine allies.
Tonight is my first night back on
the horse. Jason and Matthew
have decided to drink the
bugs away. We play quite well
and seem to impress, although
merch sales do not comply. Next
band And They Win Fall are from
'Ronto. They play very furious
black metal. Very angry about
something. Quite cool. 3 Inches
destroy what few remnants are
left of Hamilton and we disappear into the night. Destination:
'Ronto. Nasty On 3, Canada 3.
Thursday, June 5,2003
We leave from Chad's brother's
home in 'Ronto and make our
way to Montreal. We were
originally to be playing Casa de
Popollo with Mico and Rocket's
Red Glare but have moved
across the street to La Sala Rosa
to play with NY's much-hyped
A.R.E. Weapons. HS take our spot
at Casa. The room is amazing
and there are about 60 people
when we play. They all like the
show and give much applause.
A.R.E. Weapons take the stage
and receive no response from
the 100 or so people there.
Matthew leaves. The show goes
on and people start exiting.
The band declare that they are
going to play until the audience
gives some sort of response. No
response. Matthew is told not to
go to the show by some people
outside. Confident we have won
the battle, we enjoy some reefer
with Chloe Sevigny's brother and
he gives us the rest before departing for the border. This will be our
only payment. It seems you have
to pay a lot for bad entertainment. Nasty On 3, Canada 4.
We'll be back, Montreal. This war
is far from over.
Friday, June 6,2003
When we arrive at London's
Call the Office we join in many
embraces with our soon-to-
be-favourite war heroes. Black
Rice. Tonight's bill is filled with
Vancouver bands and sure to
leave London in ashes. First band
is terrible. Not from Vancouver.
Black Rice take the stage and
mightily topple the oncoming air
attacks. The Flairs take the stage
and are from Vancouver as well.
Our set has been well supplied
Lawrence introduces "PBthy Part
of Town" from the pseudo-stage
on the sidewalk. I feel cool. No
one agrees, including the fire
hydrant I'm standing near. Black
Rice tears Club 360 apart from
the bottom up. No one is left
standing. Limbs are everywhere.
Where the tuck did that CCR riff
come from? They are my new
favourite band. Our show goes
off like a motherfuck. Jason has
hand-to-hand combat with a hair
en his microphone and a barstool
that is on the side of the stage.
Good thing he had that towel
cape so that people could recognize him for the superhero that
he is. Ask Joel for video footage.
'Ronto is left with nothing left but
its fine bands. Ha ha ha. Nasty On
5, Canada 4. Many free beers follow but none of the record deals
that NXNE promised.
Sunday, June 8,2003
There are so many dead monkeys
on the highway between 'Ronto
and Ottawa. Why can't Ontario
make nice with the monkeys?
We arrive at Bumpers for the
final Vancouver deluxe bill of
destruction. From here on in we
are on our own. First up. Black
help from our friends), Canada 4,
Dead monkeys: DEAD.
Monday. June9.2003 "Kg^;"-«
We arrive in St. Stephen, New
Brunswick (Matthew and Jason's
hometown!) at 2 pm and head
straight to Jason's mother's
place. Cold beers await. St.
Stephen is a beautiful place on
the border of New Brunswick and
Maine. Very Dawson's Creek. We
will spend the next few days here
in a blur of turkey dinners, free
beer. Strawberry Alarm Clock
records, Gooch's (Jason's hash
dealer) place, free beer, kicking 1
the ball to Ihe dogs, walking,
checking emails, 10 lbs of mussels,
free beer, kind families, cleaning
Chad's house in fhe Lyons' driveway, healthy breakfasts, laundry,
free beer and solitude.
Tuesday, June 12,2003
We get up and check email
before heading to Moncton for
our first Maritime show. I receive
a link to a Chart Attack review of
our NXNE 'Ronto show that calls
Jason homophobic: They got
it all wrong. He's hobophobic.
Nevertheless Jason asks them to
retract it and, reluctantly, they
No one is left standing. Limbs ore everywhere.
Where the fuck did that CCR riff come from?
with much ammo from our good
friend Tony Lima, and we begin to
slash away at the ground forces.
The Spitfires take over for us in
what is, I'm told, their last battle.
Jay Solyom takes many half-
smoked cigarettes and Jag shots
from the battleground. He then
invites everyone starting with us
to join him onstage. This turns into
a 15-minute kraut/Can-like jam.
Many people playing Marty's
drums. That's a 10-4. London
bridges falling down. Nasty On 4,
Canada 4.
Saturday, June 7,2003
Today we are to do battle live
on CBC Radio from 'Ronto's
Horseshoe. We show up in time for
soundcheck. I stand out front of
the club and smoke while Grant
Rice ted Ottawa-right away that
they don't like them and are
never going to play there again.
Ouch. Joel thanks his Vancouver
friends for coming out. Black Rice
destroys in the most appropriate
of ways. I sure have come to like
them a lot—although they didn't
bust a CCR move tonight. HS
have Andy's hometown crowd
whipped into a frenzy. They sure
like Andy here. We played a set.
I guess it was okay. Doesn't strike
me as a bad memory. 3 Inches
of Blood finish off Ottawa like a
good old mediaeval beheading. They will now ride their dark
horses to NY. Black Rice and HS
head homeward to make sure
there is nothing left as we go off
to prepare our battle against the
Maritimes. Nasty On 6 (with a little
comply. We head to Shediac
first which is 20 minutes out of
Moncton on the ocean. This is
the first time I spot the Atlantic
Ocean. We do battle with the
world's largest lobster and,
though we emerge unscathed,
do not win. We have fish and
chips. More free beer and burgers
at Kathy Dube's (Cinch) parents'
cabin. Off to The Paramount.
The club is awesome. The staff
are awesome. Extra props to PJ.
The Mean are awesome. We've
always feli Canada's best bands
have been on the coasts and The .
Mean are our first Kve evidence.
Machetes in hand, our set goes
quite wei and Jason's dad enjoys
it. Or so he says. Lots of merch
sales. Good pay. The Maritimes
rule. Nasty On 7, Canada 4. i \.\0&o&ru$rz?
Wednesday, June 13,2003
We were supposed to be going
to PEI today but it fell through.
Fortunately, our friend Matt from
Halifax's Hell City Love is able
to get us a pick-up show within
three hours. We arrive at Halifax's
Seahorse to friendly staff and
reasonably good quesadillas.
The Ditchpigs from Moncton
open the evening with an amazing set. More evidence. Our set
goes off with moshing and much
merriment.- etc. I must get drunk.
Good choice. The Hemingways
have made the same decision.
Although they are a little too
straight-ahead for my liking, they
put on a completely sloppy,
beautifully delinquent set. Nasty
On 8, Canada 4.
Thursday, June 14,2003
We head out for greasy spoon
before finding accommodations
in Halifax. It's best to get hotels in
tt^rrJoshing as it maximizes comfort time and money. Turns out
that The Marquee has put us up
tonight at The Citadel, two blocks
-from the club. Showers are nice.
We head out for a MuchMusic
interview with Matt Wells before
going to Hell's Kitchen (basement of The Marquee) for sound-
check. We are given many drink
tickets and food money. Hell City
Love are awesome. Our set is
worthy of celebration. Ten. drinks
in at this point, I head upstairs
to The Marquee where" a post-
Skydiggers/Roxy-esque dance
party is happening. No ladies are
impressed with me. Or my booty-
shake-grinding. I manage to not
get killed and we head back to
the hotel for more beer. Nasty On
9, Canada 4.
Friday, June 15,2003
Last show before having some
time off. We make our way to
Saint John, New Brunswick where
we are playing at Studio 112
with Moncton's finest. The Peter
Parkers, and local favourites
The Organizers. After settling
. in we find out that we have to
be at the ferry in Sydney, Nova
Scotia tomorrow at 9 am to head
to Newfoundland. We didn't
think the shows were going to
happen. The Peter Parkers are
fucking amazing! Sonic destruction!  More  evidence!  Oor set
goes very weS. impressing ali of
Matthew and Jason's family and
friends (including Gooch, Jason's
hash dealer) who came from St.
Stephen. We catch three of The
Organizers' hyper-mod tunes,
pose for some family pictures and
hit the road for Sydney. Nasty On
10. Canada 4.
Saturday. June 16,2003
We arrive at 8:30 for the
ferry. I sleep all the way to
Newfoundland. We drive from
the west side to the east side
as fast as we can, but do not
manage to make last call in Sf.
John's. We cannot find a hotel
so we hit a campsite out of town.
Quite nice.
June 17,2003
After cleaning up our act we
head to Cape Spear, the easternmost point in North America.
There are icebergs!!! Amazing
huge waves crashing rocks all
blue-crested and beautiful nature
shit. We head to the venue to find
kids loitering already. Classic all-
ages show. Trailer Camp are a
high school Jesus Lizard meets
Eddie Cochrane. More evidence.
Some other less memorable acts.
The show is at McMurdo's—the
same venue we will be playing
for the older dudes tonight so
we take it easy and enjoy the
fact that they are now serving.
Hardliner are stellar. They feature
Dan, the guitarist from Sheavy,
and their singer, John, who is like
One Day At A Time's Schneider
crossed with Lester Bangs. Our set
is appreciated and more drinks
follow. We head back to John
and Paul's (promoters) place
for beer, reefer, and crashing.
First my head into a wall, then
my vomit into a bush, and then
actual sleeping. Nasty On 12,
Canada 4.
Monday. June 18.2003
We wake to showers, more reefer,
and the beginning of what John
says is going to be a day filled
with nothing but The Who. He
starts with Live at Leeds and then
moves into Sells Out. We travel
about 3/4ths of the way back
across Newfoundland and stop
to camp. The site is set right on
a river and is beautiful. The best
campsite showers of the entire
trip. Large fire. Jason has a torch
that he waves around in the dark,
telling stories with fire.
Tuesday. June 19,2003
We take the 5 pm ferry back
to Sydney. Grab a room, some
food for Dad, and head out in
search of booze. Chad stops at
a lounge in search of off sales
only to find bad R&B and $6.50
pitchers of Keith's. Price is good.
We end up coming back. Hot Hot
Heat is playing on the stereo. The
bar staff know who we are—by
brilliant small-town deduction.
We decline their offer to play us
our album. We play dice and
enjoy Deep Purple and Gordon
Lightfoot. Very drunk.
Wednesday, June 20,2003
We make our way back to the
lounge for greasy spoon. Then
a nice relaxing day of emails,
laundry, and small-town mingling.
The all-ages show at The Steel
Workers' Hal is quite good despite
poor attendance. The opening band. Teenage Hurricanes,
are the best we've seen yet.
Featuring two 18 and two 19
year olds, one broken hockey
stick/mic stand, many smashing
telephones, and body checks,
the TH took youthful abandon up
quite a notch. We later find out
that this is their second show in
their month-long career. The next
two bands are emo. Or something else that doesn't get me
We wake to showers,
John says is going to
going. Rock Ranger are Sydney's
finest and, despite a terrible
name (I should talk), they break
out Tick after lick of jam groove
rock that makes the kids smile.
Our set goes over super weH with
the ten kids who are there. They
spend thousands of dollars on
our shit. We pack up and head
down to Chandler's Lounge (they
even use the Friends logo!) to find
Rock Ranger already playing to a
room filled mostly with bar stars.
A bit of a whirlwind setting up
and tearing down with rocking,
yelling, and some girt dancing all
through our set. Like she actually
liked it. Sel a couple things, pack
up, get burgers, and start heading to Montreal. Fifteen hours. A
long haul. Hopefully worth it to
make it to our vengeance battle
in time for some recon. Nasty On
14, Canada 4.
Thursday, June 21,2003
PuH into Montreal at 6 pm. Head
to Megan's for showers (thank
you) and "Dep" beers. For
those of you who don't know, a
"Dep" is a convenience store in
Quebec. They will sell you a beer,
put it in a bag already opened
and you're on your way. That's
culture. Head down to Barfly.
The place is an awesome hole in
the wall which makes Jason feel
like Warren Oates in Bring Me the
Head of Alfredo Garcia. Or so he
says. Regardless, we have found
our people. The Dropouts are
dirty Montreal punk that do not
bum us out. The crowd loves our
set and even requests an encore.
We play "7+7 Is," as usual. More
street beers and laughs and then
off to Erie's-fee nightcaps and Bob
Dylan. Nasty On 15, Canada 4.
Friday, June 22,2003
We have today to chill (did I
actually say chill?) in Montreal.
Greasy spoon, full Montreal view
intake from Mount Royal and
then back to St. Laurent for street,
beers and mingling. It's easy to
see why Montreal is the home
of Vice magazine. I've seen too
many dudes with fanny packs
(wearing them like purses!) to not
have wanted to start a magazine
myself. Chad and I saw a dude
with a black t-shirt tucked into
these super-tight, super-short
shorts with a one inch rolled cuff.
We were stopped at a red light.
He was coming the opposite
direction but, unlike us, did not
have to comply with the light.
He simply walked through traffic, never once breaking stride,
never once causing a vehicle
to slow down or speed up. It
was like seeing Jesus walking on
fucking water. Depart at 11 pm.
Destination: somewhere near
Winnipeg. . L
Saturday, June 23,2003
We stop at Sandbar Lake (west-
em Ontario) to set up camp.
There have been many forest
fires in Ontario and consequently
we cannot light a fire. This leads
to a new score tally: Mosquitoes
10,000, Jason's knees 0. I eat
Chad and paper towel remove
the beast. We perform an in-store
at Music Trader that goes quite
well. Some dude yells out "Black
Oak Arkansas!" We play another
song. Then he yells out "Cheap
Trickl" We play another song.
Then, finally, he requests Lester
Bangs—something we can do.
3 Inches of Blood walk in as we
finish and it's a pleasant surprise;
I had heard we might be playing
with them tonight but it was still
nice. Music Trader gives us each
some credit. I got Simply Saucer,
Jason got the Beyond the Valley
of the Dolls soundtrack, Chad
got Diamond Head, and Matt
got a Johnny Cash DVD. We
load up and head to The Royal
Albert. Jason gets a royal flush
in video poker and wins $250. We
get drunk. 3 Inches of Blood are
amazing. It really is nice to see a
band after they have been touring for a month. So much fire. We
dedicate "The King: He Drinks a
Lot" to them. Our set is fiery (3
Inches inspiration) and our usual
Winnipeg fans are all there. And
the guy from the in-store. Nasty
On 16, Canada 4. We have drinks
with the bartender by our van
and he tells us ghost stories of
The Albert.
Monday. June 25.2003
Wake up in the van at 9 am. Load
our gear from The Albert stage
and make our way to Brandon
where we'll cool off and hide
more reefer, and the beginning of what
be a day filled with nothing but The Who.
three steaks and a bag of chips
but fail to get drunk off of my
Beck's keg.
Sunday, June 24,2003
Shower up and head off to
Winnipeg. On the way a bird
tries to kill me. Fortunately, we
have a windshield that foils his
evil plan. Unfortunately, we have
windshield wipers that his little
dead body gets caught up in.
He's looking right at me. He sees
my soul. Turning the wipers on .
doesn't help. It is more uncomfortable, though. We stop and
out from the Charlie for a white.
Our barracks are quite nice with
two beds, a pull out love seat, a
fridge,.microwave, good shower,
internet in the lobby, and free
long distance in the lobby after
6. They also have an outdoor
pool and BBQs but it is not nice
outside. We hit -a pool hall and
then after dinner the boys take
me out bowling. Back home for
TV and a midnight snack. It's
quiet. Too quiet.
Tuesday, June 26,2003
We pull into Regina and stumble
upon the Gaslight Saloon quite
easily. It is a nice bar aside
from the flame motif. The staff
are easy on the eyes and quite
kind. We have a warm meal, a
game of darts, pool, andJNouse
of the Dead. Opening band
say they are emo but sound like
Nickelback. The second band
opens with Nirvana's "Territorial
Pissings" and proceeds into
NoMeansNo, Pixies, Sublime
(which makes me leave), more
NoMeansNo, Tool, and more shit
I ignored. No offence to any of
the original bands, it's just that if I
knew we were going to be headlining above The Pixies I'd've
asked for more money. Our set
goes very well. Jason decides to
record a live album and the audience is at least amused enough
to pay attention. We play well
and sell much merch. Nasty On
17, Canada 4.1 finally beat Jason
and Matt in pool by recruiting.:
a shark waitress .for a partner.
More drinks and hit the road for
Calgary- I'm almost home, baby.
Friday, June 27,2003
Pull in at our friend Janette's at
about 2 pm and get cleaned
up. It seems the town has some- .
how built itself up since we
tore it down a month ago. Our
Edmonton battle for tomorrow will
not happen due to retreats. Head
down to The Castle and begin
drinking, stat. Many old friends
and big Stella beers make for a
good time. Then Hip City Blues
Combo hit the stage. This is the
best prairie band I've seen. Our
set is more drunken live album
action. The crowd is dancing
and drinking as much as we are!
For the amount of drunkenness in
that room, I'm amazed only one
person annoyed me. You know
who you are. Calgary rules. Final
tally: Nasty On 18, Canada 4.
18,333 km.
Thursday, July 17,2003
Today at practice Chad found a
urinal puck in his hardware case.
It got there by traveling from a
urinal in McMurdo's in St. John's
Newfoundland to Jason's hand
to Chad's case. Ha ha. •
9 DiSCORDER The Wajr They Sat By
When Austin, TX's Spoon released KHf fhe Moonlight last si
it knocked me on my prissy White ass. I had heard Girls Can Tell,
their previous album, and was fairly non-plussed, but Kill the
Moonlight was a revelation. Replete with gritty and catchy rock songs,
punctuated by singer Britt Daniel's raspy voice, the album is destined to
become a classic. I was lucky enough to sit down with Spoon drummer
and co-founder Jim Eno before Spoon's Richard's on Richards show last
month to discuss Kill the Moonlight's breakthrough success, reconciling
day jobs with touring, and Mexican restaurants.
DiSCORDER: I saw you in Seattle last November at Graceland, but
you didn't come up to Vancouver. Do you guys enjoy coming to
Canada?—it's not something you do a whole lot of.
Jim Eno: I like it. The only thing I don't like about it is that it takes a long
time to get across the border. It's such a hassle. But once we get here,
we always have a great time. Toronto and Montreal, we usually have
a good time.
It's a big problem for Vancouver because there's not much of an
incentive for bands to go through all the hassle of the border.
They just go to Seattle and that's it and you guys have to go down
there. Is it hard for you guys to cross if you're just going to see a show?
Yeah, no felonies, and no one of colour.
In general, how does touring work for you? I read an Interview that said
you're an electrical engineer; how do you get time off?
I just take a leave of absence, so I don't get paid. But they've been
cool about it. I've had the same boss since 1993—moved around to
different companies, but same boss—you know, they know that I'm
going to be leaving. I structure my projects so that I can get away.
And it's always, you know, when you plan to get away, it's always the
worst time when it comes down to it.
But that's great that it works out for you. You've got a real job.
10 August 2003
They haven't forced me to make a decision yet.
With Kill fhe Moonlight. It seems like the amount of praise and press has
gone up even more than where it was before (for 2001 's Girls Can Te/fl.
Why do you think Kill fhe Moonlight has garnered so much attention?
I just think it's been a slow building process since 1996 [when they
released their debut, Telephono, on Matador]. One thing we have
been doing is we're just trying to keep putting out great records. We're
just recording and Britt [Daniel, singer/guitarist]'s songwriting is just
getting better and better.
It seems that with this record there was a bit of a stylistic break; there
were different elements that were brought in—a lot more keyboards.
And then there's "Stay Don't Go"—which has beatboxing. Were there
any decisions about that, or was that just something that happened?
It's just how the songs start working out. We don't go into a record
saying, 'This is going to sound like this.' It just has to evolve into what
it becomes. So, you know, working song by song, figuring what each
song needs and what it doesn't need. Sort of subtractive stuff: let's
throw a bunch of things down and pick off what's working and throw
what's not adding anything.
How collaborative is the songwriting process?
Britt writes the songs. A lot of times what will happen is we'll have
practices beforehand where we'll work on arrangements and drum
parts and things like that. And then when the recording happens, we
record at my house, so it's collaborative in terms of sounds and stuff
like that... For the past two records we've used Mike McCarthy as
producer/engineer, so the three of us just hang out and craft and work
on things.
So there's Just the three of you who produce the music for the albums
and then you bring in a keyboardist and bassist for the tour? I know
that you switched keyboardists recently.
Yeah, and Eric (new keyboardist] played on Girls Can Te//—no, I'm
sorry, one song on Kill The Moonlight, but he did all of the Girls Can Tell
tours. Josh [old keyboardist] played on one or two songs on Kill the
Moonlight; also he played on all of Series of Sneaks. [With recording]
sometimes we say, "Hey, this would be a good day's part for this guy.
or so and so," or "This would be a cool .part to bring this guy in." And
then that's sort of how we play it. We'll have to see how the next
record pans out.
About the next record, where's it at?
We're already working on it—gonna start hitting it really hard after this
tour; working on songs and getting things together. Whenever we're
ready, we'll start recording.
Have you been playing the new songs during the shows at all?
No, it's not at that point yet.
Any sort of ideas about where, stylistically, they might be headed?
No, no clue yet.
Are they top secret?
[Laughing] Well, top se
I don't know if I can describe it
One thing I wanted to talk to you about is Mexican restaurants,
because you guys have links to a bunch of them on your website.
What's the best Mexican restaurant you know of?
When it comes to authentic Mexican, I like a place called Polvo's in
Austin. For Tex-Mex, I like a place called Chewy's. Yeah, there're a lot
of good ones.
Have you built a network of Mexican restaurants across the country
that you go to while on tour?
[Laughing] No, no, they're usually not as good once we start moving
away from Texas. Are there good Mexican restaurants here?
I was trying to think about that. There's a great place nearby that's
called the Mouse and Bean that's very authentic, but most of the
places aren't all that great.
Have you been down to Austin?
No, I have a cousin down there, but I've never been. I've made it to
Dallas airport but that's all.
It's a cool place. Austin is fun. I'd like to make It to SXSW sometime.
Oh yeah, it's a good time.
You guys play every year, don't you?
Yeah, we've played every year since 1995.
Why is that Important to you? Or Is It just that you're there?
Well, we alwayssubmit. Yeah, we're there, and we usually get pretty
good shows. We're beginning to get better and better shows. The last
one we played with. Yo La Tengo and Cat Power, so that was really
awesome. I just really like it because we tour around quite a bit with a
lot of opening bands, like The Oranges. And everyone comes to SXSW
so you get to meet all of your friends and you're in your hometown
and see tons of bands. And even/one comes to your town so you get
to hang out with all the people you've met over.the years, musician-
How important do you think It's been to be in a town ike Austin, in an
atmosphere that's quite nurturing?
That's a tough one. I don't know how important it is, actually. It's good
that we have cool clubs to play. But you realise when you start touring
that it doesn't really matter where you're from because people don't
know you as soon as you leave your hometown. Geographically,
[Austin] is great because we can do the West Coast in two weeks and
we can do the East Coast in two weeks, so it's a lot better than having
to take a month if you're on the West coast or East coast. That's good.
Chicago is also good for those reasons.
You know, Austin's a great town. You get to see live music, any style, in
40 different clubs every night. It's pretty amazing.
I don't know what your politics are, but It also seems like this kind of
oasis of liberal thought In the middle of Texas.
It's sort of liberal, it's not as liberal as I would hope and you're still stuck
in the middle of Texas, which isn't good, especially now. Especially
going to Europe and [the reaction is], 'You're from Texas?'
I guess George Bush hasn't done a lot for the travel prospects of
liberals from Texas. Another thing I want to touch on is your artwork.
The artwork on the records is always really great, especially Series of
Britt usually looks around for that stuff. He found those paintings. I think
the Series of Sneaks was a futuristic artist and we tracked down who
had the rights to it and told them we wanted to use it for our cover.
The same with Kill the Moonlight.
So is there any significance to the
it just an interesting visual?
i think it's just a visual.
hands [depicted on the cover], or Is
And what about the title "Kill the Moonlight"? Was there any
significance to that?
It is a Futurist manifesto, I think. Ah man, I don't want you to quote
me on that, cause I don't want to get that wrong. [Author's note: Jim
asked me to email him later so he could fact check this and then I
forgot. A Google search revealed that it is, in fact, the name of an
early 20th century Italian Futurist manifesto.] With titles of records, you
just want to, how do I describe it, sort of like imagery. You just want to
have something... that... sounds good.
Wed, it certainly works. It sounds intriguing and mysterious. I also
wanted to talk about Merge a bit. I know you guys have been
bounced around by labels, but It seems like, with Merge, it's really
been stable and you guys have really taken off while with them. How
have you enjoyed working with them?
Oh, they're great. They're great people and they're huge music lovers
and, as far as what a label needs to do, answer phone calls, they do
press, they're on the ball. It's been great being on their label. They
came through when a lot of other labels wouldn't.
What are some of the bands you've been excited about lately?
It's weird for me, because I have a recording studio, so I record other
bands. So it's Spoon, other bands or I'm working, so I don't have a lot
of time to go out and find other bands. But, for example, I just did the
new Mates of State record. That was really fun. I was a fan of theirs, but
I really like the new songs. That's who I've been listening to lately.
A Series of Peaks: The History of Spoon
1993 - The love-child of guitarist/vocalist Britt Daniels and drum
machine Jim Eno, Spoon is born. Greg Wilson and Andy McGuire
complete the instrumental line-up.
n busting with the release of the Nefari-
1995 - Spoon is signed to the six year old, fairly reputable Matador
label. Appearances are deceiving.
1996 - Debut full-length Telephono is released. Only Wilson has
disappeared and McGuire is suing the band for cash after break-
ing-up ugly. Telephono producer, John Croslin, plays bass as the
band tours as a three-piece. Despite selling minimally, Spoon gets
bracketed as too commercial for the indie spirit of Matador.
1997 - Spoon begins to work with bassist Josh Zarbo. (Note that
Zarbo is the bassist that sticks, carrying oh to play with Spoon as we
know them today.)
1998 -A Series of Sneaks is released on Elektra, amounting to
a somewhat seminal, absolutely beautiful car crash. Spoon is
ditched by the label almost immediately as Ron Laffitte [the vice-
president that backed them] is fired; the album sells poorly, people |
fucking love it.
2001 - Girls Can Tell is released on Merge and sells more than
the entire back catalogue of the band combined. It is widely
conceded that this is the album whereby Spoon elucidated what
Is uniquely their own. This album also has the best cover art to date  |
for the band, a simple spinning record, a call to monkey-see-monkey-do.
2002 - Kill The Moonlight is released on Merge. People freak out
again. People love it; can't get enough of it. After approximately
10 record labels (including EP releases) and almost as many bass
players. Spoon's reality appears to be coalescing into something
2003 - Spoon comes to Vancouver. DiSCORDER interviews them.
You read this.
sweetcheyanne •
11 DiSCORDER Pet Sounds
You know that white snowy fuzz that yc*hg#t on an untuned TV?
You're not tuned to a station and the screen jiggles with white,
gray, and black speckles. That's thousands of faint broadcast
signals, which, too weak to form a coherent signal alone or unable to
be interpreted by the crude mechanism of a TV, indulge themselves
in a play of random movement creating the image you see. One of
those signals is actually the still-dissipating energy from the original
Big Bang. Two scientists'found this faint signal in the '60s. Wherever
they pointed their instruments, the signal was there; a ubiquitous low-
level hiss. Just a weak primordial celestial radio signal, in the diffuse
bath of background radiation that we are all immersed in everyday.
This is the kind of natural, messed-up soundscape that the Animal
Collective's music seeks to emulate. Like your detuned TV, you know
there's endless faint pop culture signals in there somewhere but you
can't quite isolate them and they're breaking up, coming in and out
of focus. And there's natural noise too—the Big Bang and the endless
chirrup of the earth's creatures. It's just like placing a microphone in
the forest at night; you'd think that it'd be silent, but when you listen
to the play back, the noise is deafening, dense, and constantly
overlapping. As a listener of the Animal Collective you kinda feel
like an archaeologist, constantly unearthing catchy melodies from
the sedimentary layer cake of the noise that they present to you.
In the three years since they have emerged they've released
four albums and a live compilation with their friends Black Dice, and
every release has seen a redefinition of their sound. Their first album.
Spirit They've Vanished, Spirit They've Gone, was, a washed out
fuzz of joyous pop melodies. Their third, Campfire Songs—released
this year—is an acoustic drone masterpiece. But it's their latest.
Here Comes the Indian, that really made people sit up and take
notice. Make no mistake the pop melodies remain, but it's finding
. them that's the fun. Where once, the noise only occasionally
obscured the melodies, now it's the noise that dominates and
the melodies can only be enjoyed after a deep excavation.
But it's not just the music that has got Animal Collective noticed.
The outrageous masks and make-up have helped. As too have the
rather unusual monikers: David Portner is Avey Tare, Noah Lennox
12 August 2003
is Panda Bear, Brian Weitz is The Geologist and finally (and perhaps
disappointingly) Josh Oeaken is The Deaken. I mean, come on. Aren't
you intrigued? I was. So when I heard that they were playing Pat's Pub
this month, I got all excited and set up this interview. On the evening
Avey Tare and Panda Bear treated us to a sublime performance
using only two acoustic guitars, four niicrophones, and a big drum.
The Geologist was on hand, keeping his two friends company and
manning the merch table. The Deaken was suspiciously absent, as
were the much rumored masks and make-up. However, as t sat down to
begin the interview, apparel was still "very much a subject of concern:
Geologist: Are you gonna take pictures of us tonight?
Geologist: Aww, I'm always photographed in this T-shirt. Everyone's
going to think I always wear the same thing.
First of aU I have to say that your new album, H*n Comes the Indian,
is unbelievable.
All: Thank you
Where did It all start?
Panda Bear We all sorta met each other while we were in high school.
There's four of us, and The Deaken and these two guys [Avey Tare
and The Geologist] all went to high school together, and the Deaken
I've known since I was about second grade and he and I have been
friends for a really long time. So I met these guys and we all started
playing together through that sort of connection. These two guys had
a band called Automind back inhigh school and the Deaken was in
that for a little while playing keyboards.
What kind of style of music did Automind play?
Geologist: Automind? I don't know... It kinda started like indie rock,
and then it got a little more experimental with psychedelic jammy
stuff in between songs—a lot of weird noises and stuff like that, i
A Conversation with
the Animal Collective
by Merek Cooper
Photos by
Hana Macdonald
And It all progressed from there?
Geologist: Sort of...
Panda: We were all playing music off and on, in different formations—
different bands and stuffcr^but nothing too steady until these guys
went to school in New York and eventually I moved there, too. Josh
[The Deakenj and I went to school in Boston but I sorta dropped out
and moved to New York, and that's whent2w*e and I started playing
really steady: that was three years ago.
I heard this rumour that you're not planning on making music your
career. I* this true?
Geologist: I think the answer differs depending on who you talk to in
the band. I think that quote was from me.
Avey Tare: We never depend on it being our career. We never want
it to be a stressfeJ thing, tike, "How can we make money?" We just
wanna make music.
Panda: But if I could afford toliveoff it I totally would—it's not like I'd
be Rke. "Whoa, no."
And you're all still at university?    -
Geologist: Nah, we're done.
Panda: Done or dropped out.
What did you do. Panda Bear?
Panda: Well, the Geologist is the only one who graduated; the other
three of us all dropped out.
What was the reason for you dropping out?
Panda: I think it's different for all of us. There were a lot of different
reasons for me. I moved to New York to be with a girl at the time and
just never went back. That's my story. [Laughs]
How does New York feel at the moment? It seems the scene there Is
getting a lot of media attention.
Avey: It feels pretty normal to us. I feel like I know a lot of people there
who are really supportive and there's definitely other musicians that we feel pretty comfortable talking with
Geologist: It's more a community than a scene because I feel like
our thoughts on music and the way we wanna do things is all a bit
different. There isn't like a homogenous sound to anything. I don't
think we're part of any New York renaissance sound. I mean, we
definitely associate with them and a lot of them are our friends, but...
we don't try and be part of it.
What bands do you associate with?
Geologist: Black Dice are really good friends of ours. But, like. The Liars
and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the Strokes and stuff Tike Vna\—we're
not really... I mean, they are nice people, but I don't think people
really group us in with the same kind of New York thing.
It seems like there are two really big movements right now: you have
the disco punk scene with the Rapture and III, and then you have the
psychedelic avant stuff like Black Dice, Lighting Bolt, and you guys.
Avey: I think we all sort of came to it from different perspectives and
then have crossed paths at certain points. I mean, we are definitely
really good friends with Black Dice.
Geologist: I think there are similarities in the way we approach
creating stuff, but we wouldn't say we sound the same. I mean, I
guess you could say that we do here and there.
I think sometimes In the more ambient stuff a connection between
you two could be made.
Panda: There's probably been a lot of subtle cross-pollination.
Avey: I think Black Dice for us, too, was as a big brother band—
because they've been touring and recording longer than we have.
So it was nice to have people that we could ask for advice; they
helped us out on our first tour and that sort of thing.
Can you tell us a bit about how you recorded Campflre Songs?
Panda: It was out at Dave's cousin's place, out in rural Maryland. Out
in the countryside. They have a little screened-in porch and we all sat
in there, and we had, like, two mini-disc players recording inside, and
we put one outside so you could get the whole sphere of what was
going on as we played. And we played it straight through.
AH the way through—no stops?
Avey: Yeah, it took us a while to get the right take.
How long Is the album?
All: 41 minutes or something.
Wow. So, you just went through It and picked the best take?
Avey: YOah, it was an idea we'd been working on for a long time—
even before we started playing things in that style. Right before Danse
Mantee was recorded we had started playing this style of melding
everything together—like one song became another suddenly and
then became another without any stops. So we sort of took another
idea that we'd had before to record stuff at night so it's warm and
personal—you know—just an album that someone could put on and
feel really close to nature and to the people who were making it. And
then we took it and started throwing ambient noise into it, once we
had come up with the songs.
Yeah, whenever I read anything on you guys there is this emphasis
on "back-to-nature," "tribal-dancing-round-flres" kind of thing. Is that
something the media has made up or is that just a jam session for
Avey: I feel like I grew up in that state of mind. Most of the time when
I was young I just wanted to be outside and be running around
playing games, so I think it's an extension of that. I grew up in a really
landscape-y woody area, and I definitely think that is one side of what
we do—but then New York is another side with all the chaos.
Yeah, that's why it seems strange that you get this label 'cause you
live in one of the biggest urban areas In the world...
Avey: New York just puts a different take on it all.
Panda: We wanna take influences from both; we wanna produce the
pastoral landscape feeling, but it's hard to breathe sometimes in New
York and that definitely comes through.
Where did the whole "animal" thing come from? The nicknames, I
Geologist: The nicknames all come from different places. I think we all
have different stories.
So you are the Geologist: why Is that?   .
Geologist: I did a lot of science in college. I mean, that's pretty much
what I've always done, but everyone from New York thought I studied
geology—and that was, like, one of the few things I didn't study. And
they used to call me Geologist and I just kept it as a nickname.
And Panda Bear? Where did your name come from?
Panda: I can't remember where I came up with it but I used to make
these tapes when I was really young and on one of them I drew this
panda bear, and from there it's always been Panda Bear.
And Avey Tare?
Avey: Er, Avey Tare? 1 don't know.
How do you pronounce It?
Avey. 'Avey' is like 'davey' without the 'D'.
I thought K might be a joke on Avatar?
Avey: That's what a lot of people think, but I didn't even know that
word when I came up with it.
The Idea behind the make-up and costumes is...?
Avey. I mean, like, we're up for anything that sort of happens. We did
that as a celebratory way of making music together and the ritual...
We're not doing it now—just because we wanted to change it up a
little bit. We don't want it to be our thing.
How did you record Here Comes the Indian? What kind of equipment
are you using?
Panda: A lot of stuff. We're super into live mixing, seeing what we
can do with live mixing. At that time it was four of us playing so Brian
and Josh, the Deaken, would do a lot of live mixing. And as far as the
vocals go, we each have our own vocal mic, which would either be
affected through a vocoder, a roland keyboard/an analog synth—or
even just dry.
Yeah—the best thing about the album is that it sounds like you use
technical, modern stuff, but the sound you achieve is very organic
Panda: I think it's electronic because there's people in the band
who are processing the sound of somebody else in the band, but it's
organic because we're all playing live together.
Geologist: On Here Comes the Indian there's live guitar and drums
and keyboards and they're done live in the room, and there's room
mics catching it—but those signals also go to my mixer. And The
Deaken was also operating. And Panda Bear's drums had contact
mics on them, so you'd hear the live sound of the drum, but the
contact mic's signal would also go to mixer, which was then affected.
There was a lot of sending things different places.
And live, can you always reproduce that sound?
Avey: Not always tq that effect, but we came up with most of the
material for a live show, like we do with all our stuff. But an album, I
think, js something completely different.
Geologist: And we enjoy studio work, too. I made a recording studio
in our basement when we were sixteen or seventeen and we've
always enjoyed creating stuff in the studio.
And the other question I have to ask is the drug question.
[To which all three let out a groan.]
I mean, there's obviously lots of people out there right now enjoying
your music under the Influence...
Geologist: Oh yeah.
Avey [Laughs]
I've read stuff about how you're all sick of the drug question...
All: Really!
Geologist: That's probably me. It's more because of our parents—our
parents get really angry When they see that...
Avey I just don't think we want to be a drug band, you know? I
wouldn't want to lean towards pushing any angle on the band—like
we're intellectual or drug users or whatever.
Panda: People have a good time listening to it whatever they do, so
that's cool with me.
It's just that your type of music lends Itself to that kind of interpration
and enjoyment...
Avey I mean, it definitely wasn't made on psychedelic drugs—but, I
mean, we've had those experiences and learned from them.
Geologist: But even so, I'm always drawn to the type of records that
you can listen to sober and it gives you the same experience as if you
were on some kind of altered journey. That's always the music that
I've wanted to make.
Thanks, I just wanted to clarify things.
Panda: That's all right, it just bothers us. I guess for one magazine we
were interviewed for two hours and there were, like, four quotes—and
it was just right in your face: "They took acid..."
"And that's why they make the stuff they do."
change quite a bit, but the recordings right now are really stripped
down.       ^"Ifpb
Geologist: It's a really beautiful record. I've heard the raw mix.
I think that wBI do. Is there anything else? Are you going to play songs
from Here Comes the Indian tonight?
Avey Yeah, that's one thing that's important for us to talk about. I
feet that we're always one step ahead of ourselves and our music.
[Laughs} I feel like I always say this. but... we're not the type of band
that overdoes it, especially out on the road. We like to spend a lot of
time writing new material, and we'll go through short time periods of
writing stuff and then we'll just give it up. So, basically, after we record
a record we don't really play those songs again.
Never again?
Geologist: The only time where we felt we had to was when Danse
Manatee was going to come out and we felt like we should play a
few songs from it, but we played maybe, like, three.
Panda: It hadn't even come out then.
Geologist: Yeah.
So it's always going to be a new experience seeing you guys, then?
Avey: Yeah, because, for us, live shows should be like that. I think the
bands we like to go and see live—it's cool for us that it makes us go,
"Whoa, what was that?"
Does that mean that your live show is improvised a lot?
Avey: Not at all. We always have songs we're working on, but once
you've finalised them... I mean, there are definitely parts that are
improvised—especially how we go into songs. I think it's easy to tell
■ sometimes.
Geologist: We just move really quickly. I mean, when I left the band, I
knew when I got back it was going to be nothing like... I left right after
Here Comes the Indian was recorded, and then the first time I heard
them again was on this tour. And what's happened in the last year is
totally different.
So it's moved on from Here Comes the Indian.
Geologist: Oh, yeah. I mean. Here Comes the Indian is all four of us
rocking out together.
Avey: This is definitely a simpler sound.
Geologist: It's still pretty out there, though.
Are you going to ever get back together, all four of you?
Geologist: Oh, yeah. The way we do things, music isn't a priority in our
lives at certain times. We have to give some breathing room to the
people who just wanna go off and do whatever. I mean, I'm really
into other things, professionally—andj have, like, school and stuff.
What is your profession?
Geologist: Err, I'm moving to DC when the next session of congress
starts and I'm going to be an ocean conservation advisor.
Who for?
Geologist: I'm not sure yet. But I'm a big scuba diver and in the last
couple of yearfrif'sreally sad how dirty things are getting. That's what
I want to do with my life: restore the oceans. Sometimes you have to
do certain professional things—even if that prevents you from touring
or whatever. •
What are the plans for the future?
Panda: I've got a solo record coming out.
Avey We've got a bunch of things set to come out. The re-issues
[Spirit They've Gone. Spirit They've Vanished and Danse Manatee]
come out in October; I'm doing one split twelve inch coming out with
David Grubbs on FatCat, and we're going to finish mixing Noah's solo
What kind of style Is that record going to take?
Panda: Pretty much totally different. It's real simple, mostly just me
singing and acoustic guitar. [Turning to the Geologist and Avey Tare.]
It might change totally—these guys are going to mix it.
(The Geologist nods and makes a mischievous face.] I'm sure it'll
13 DiSCORDER J ust who is Boy? Pepper Sands' frontwoman Citizen A might
have summed it up best: "He's a frickin' 19 year old genius from
Whitehorse who makes records in his bedroom comparable to
anything out there." She made this statement in the Georgia Straight,
after seeing Stephen Noel-Kozmeniuk's New Music West gig in 2002.
A year later, Citizen A isn't the only one praising the now 21-year-old
Kozmeniuk: his live performances and self-produced album have
stirred up quite a buzz in the Canadian music industry. Not only that,
he's also possibly the most punctual musician on Earth. I sent him a
slew of questions and then went grocery shopping. By the time I'd put
my oranges and tofu away, he'd already sent me his answers. Lovely.
He may be young, but this singer-songwriter has been working on
his career for some time. At the point when most of us were languishing
in teenage ennui, an underage Kozmeniuk was developing his act in
"shitty bars" across the Yukon. When asked about his hometown scene
and its influence on him, he writes, 'It is very folky, bluesy, bluegrassy,
and supportive. Everyone is very close. Plenty of phenomenal players
to learn from up there. I have never seen a more loving music
community. The R&B scene in Toronto comes close though." He's
paid his dues in the provinces, though, spending time in Toronto and
Edmonton. A good many of the songs on Boy's eponymous debut
were inspired by the year he spent at university in Edmonton. "From the
Yukon you are able to step back from and look at the world to truly see
•it as a spectator," he claims. '1 believe you also have to be part of a city
just to realize the craziness and stupidity of humanity... but then you
have to know when to get the hell out before you turn pink and sour."
Kozmeniuk's talent hasn't always met with support, however. "At
school my music teacher once told me that I would never amount to
anything musically. That was after she heard me play the recorder.
But one day she was sick and her substitute came in and brought
a guitar, John Lennon's Imagine, and a Cream album. After that I
wanted to play guitar. I started shortly after when I was 13 or 14	
can't remember. Played in a whole shitload of bands. Started out in
a punk band, but that didn't really help me develop my chops, so I
started playing in blues and soul bands (I love blues and soul music).
Then I started filling in on odd projects like guitar and bass for a great
folk performer named Kim Barlow." Eventually, he felt the need to
strike out on his own: "I started Boy when I realized 1 really wanted
to express myself and not have anyone tell me what to do." Initially,
Boy was a duo, but, as Kozmeniuk explains, "the other guy wasn't
14 August 200o
into it. He had other things oh his mind. Like my girlfriend ... hehehe."
This boy may have left punk rock behind, but he retained a
punkish sense of DIY. With the help of Pro Tools software, he recorded
Alex Murdoch's "Polyphonic" in his bedroom studio in 2001, making
it the first release on Speedboatracer Records. The.sett-titled debut
from Boy followed shortly after. Despite the praise Kozmeniuk has
received for his skills as a producer, he still doesn't see himself as one:
"As far as I'm concerned I was just fucking around in my room. It's
still what I'm doing." When asked why he chooses home recording,
he says, "I do it by choice. Started by necessity, though. You don't
need a monster fucking studio anymore. That's not to say that I would
never use one, but with technology, any schmuck with a computer
and half a brain can make something that doesn't sound too bad.
Maybe I am that schmuck. Plus, there isn't the hourly rate associated
it his fife's mission to even the score with Johnny and his band. He
would get better than them and play all of the same venues in Alaska,
Northern BC, and the Yukon... but draw bigger crowds, receive more
acclaim!" While Kozmeniuk's tale is less complex than Workman's, they
both present a similar story. It is a young artist's movement from the
wilderness to a more complicated urban landscape, where the artistic
purity generated in obscurity is at once threatened and empowered.
The "feral child of the wilderness" doesn't mind the Hawklsey
comparisons. But certain others annoy him. "Badly Drawn Boy ones*
are stupid to make just because I'm called Boy. The first time I had
heard of him was when my friend dragged me out to his show a
couple of months ago. He was drunk and played too long. I didn't
hear any similarities in our songs, though. Not that comparisons to him
happen often (twice I think.... once in a bad way.... once in a good
Initially, Boy was a duo, but, as Kozmeniuk explains, "the other guy wasn't
into it He had other things on his mind. Like my girlfriend... hehehe."
with the bigger places. I like to record as I think of ideas and paying
an hourly rate doesn't work well with my methods of madness."
Kozmeniuk's passion for "fucking around" with production—
coupled with his original take on pop music—is faintly reminiscent
of fellow Canadian Hawksley Workman. The two have already
been compared by the media, particularly in terms of their
showmanship and songwriting. But it is his fictitious web biography
at www.speedboatracer.net that truly indicates a Hawksley-esque
sensibility. Penned by Burt Muston, ("as told by Stephen"), the story
starts simply: 'There is a certain Boy from Whitehorse." It continues
like a northern fairy tale: "For fifteen years he was a feral child of the
wilderness, the Yukon River his sole provider... From an early age this Boy
learned to communicate his thoughts and feelings through a primitive
form of music. Whether pounding out an emotive rhythm on a log or
stone, or howling crude choruses that smelted of earth, the lofty pines
of the river valley rang with his melodies..." The boy eventually opts for
a more "unremarkable existence" as a vendor of firewood. He joins a
shabby group of touring musicians, who later abandon him "perhaps
inadvertently, perhaps not" at a Grande Prairie truck stop. Only then
does he start playing the bar scene: "From that day forward he made
way), but one reporter slagged me for ripping off all of his songs.
Obviously they never listened to me or him. Beatles comparisons
are okay, though. I once got an Avril Lavigne comparison. That _
one came out of left field. Good for shits and giggles, though."
Avril aside, Kozmeniuk is enthusiastic about the current Canadian
music scene: "I think it is an exciting time now. Who cares about the
future? I try not to think that far ahead. Lots of great stuff going on right
now in Canada like Broken Social Scene, Stars, Pilate, Sam Roberts, Girl
Nobody, Motion Soundtrack, Hawksley Workman, Grace Nocturnal,
Danny Michel the list goes on and on. I guess if I were to look at the
future I think more artists are going to stay indie, or go with a label like
Maplemusic who have a major affiliation. Cut out the fat so to speak."
A summer tour accompanies the re-release of the Boy album in
early July. Whatever the outcome of this bid for wider recognition,
Kozmeniuk's definitely got a fighting chance. He's armed with
solid tunes and a hunger for success. Add this to shaggy-haired
good looks and a strange sort of Yukon exoticism, and you might
just have the recipe for Canada's next indie pop sensation.
The frickin' 21-year-old genius from Whitehorse is potentially
on the verge, and I sense that he's more than ready for it.  • This month marks the release of the Appleseed Cast's Two
Conversations, their first musical offering to the world since the near
masterpiece Low Level Owl volumes. Listening to these previous
releases, there are moments on the albums where the music is so
sad and beautiful that it destroys all my senses besides the auditory
in a strange numbing effect. I recently spoke to vocalist / guitarist
Christopher Crisci: what follows are the best parts of our conversation.
DISCORDER: My.first question Is completely stolen, but what Is your
Christopher Crisci: Playing music is kind of like its own motivation. It's
just fun to do.
In the liner notes to "Low Level Owl Volume I", you speak of music as
inducing the desired effect. What Is this, and how much of your music is
created by the responses garnered from it?
The desired effect is the feeling you have and you're trying to express
Do you ever feel that the audience participates In the music as the
"fifth" member of a band?
Oh, definitely. Yeah, that's the greatest thing about it—playing live
music—is the response you get.
Do you ever write your lyrics with the intention of bridging the gap
between the "you" of the song and the "I" of the audience? Do you
intend your lyrics to be applicable to other people, or do you write
them based on your experiences?
It is mostly just based on my experience, or a story I am trying to tell. For
Two Conversations it is half personal, but also half story. It is comprised
of many different stories.
Do you think that the stony is somewhat created by what people bring
to It? For instance. Two Conversations is not a complete piece of art
until it is received by the public?
[pause] I'm not sure. If it is perceived in the right way, then I totally
agree. That is kind of the point, I guess.
Also In the low Level Owl liner notes there is a great deal of explication
on how that album was recorded, and how it happened piece by
piece. Does playing live because It is happening simultaneously yield
a different type of musical experience than what I would get listening
to the album?
Kind of...
Is there something bom out of the energy of coming together to create
physically tangible form of art, like liner notes or cover art? Or is
your experience of the Appleseed Cast a combination of both of these
To be honest, I am not really an artist—I just put pictures together. I
don't really think about the artwork. I know lyrically the theme of an
album and I try to match the art with the theme of the album. But there
is not a line that I draw between them—like a balance or anything.
I was reading...this Is a quote from Harry Smith, the man who put
together the Anthologies of American Folk Music, talking about how
"When I'm writing and I finish something, and create a new song or
whatever I am working on, the reward of that is being able to look back
and say, 'Hey, I made that!' That is when I am happiest in life."
Well, the songs are originally written all together. We didn't write the
drums then write the guitars or whatever. So what we put down on
tape is just the recording.of what we played together. Some of the
things, like keys and stuff like that, we do differently live. We try to just
use the guitar noises and stuff like that to try and compensate for not
using keys sometimes. But to me it is all just kind of the same thing. You
record to do a song justice, first you write it and then when you record
it you're just tryingto make the song as good as it can be on tape.
Was the recording process for Two Conversations the same? Bit by bit
like that?
The recording process was a lot more... I paid a lot more attention to
smaller details on Two Conversations. But otherwise, it was pretty much
the same.
Okay. So, I think there Is a general tendency of an audience to attach
their experience of music to lyrics—maybe because these are the
most accessible aspects of song—and allow a reaction of, "Oh, I felt
that same emotion oncel" However, your lyrics tend to come last, and
listening to the Appleseed Cast, the music itself sounds peacefully
triumphant, as opposed to the lyrical content which seems destructively
sad. Do you think that sadness can be triumphant? Or does your music
simultaneously communicate both sad and triumphant message?
To me the music is pretty sad as well. But I definitely like mixing two
things like that together—a bittersweet type feel.
But deliberately In tangent to one another?
Yes. Just for that bittefcweet type feel... Like our first album—the music
itself was really negative—but after that it was just kind of flavourless.
Where do you, or do you/draw a line between musicianship and that
you could go Into a musician's home and look at a quilt that they
had made and then listen to their music, and he said, "Everything
could be figured out regarding their judgement in relation to certain
intellectual processes. Like Certain things sound good to a person in
music, certain things look good to the eye. And at some level those
two things are interconnected." Do you think that that is true for you, in
those processes?
Well, if you were to go into my house, every room is kind of different—
my room in particular is kind of bland. There's nothing on the walls and
stuff... When I was by myself the whole house was pretty much very
utilitarian—there wasn't art hanging on the wall or anything. I had a
utility shelf for my TV. So now, with roommates and stuff, the living room
has turned into this '70s dungeon look, which I like. To some degree, if
you go into... someone who has money to put towards having a lot of
art or whatever, or furniture, for instance—then I guess you could. But in
my case, I just... I was renting a house for too much money a month by
myself, barely scraping by.
Does art make you sane? Does art serve to help you move through the
world? Does it help you make sense of things?
Oh, yeah. It helps me... it definitely... When I'm writing and I finish
something—and create a new song or whatever I am working on—the
reward of that is being able to look back and say, "Hey, I make that!"
That is when I am happiest in life, when I am actually producing and
moving forward with it. When I am most unhappy in life is when I'm in a
slump or something. When I can't... when nothing sounds good. •
different part*
Sean Maxey
"The Design Industry is a Motherfucker"
An Interview with Sean Maxey.
Chances are you've seen Sean Maxey's art around. Maybe you paused to inspect it as you passed a lamppost:
Maybe you saw it on the wall of a local record store. Or maybe you woke up after a night of drunken debauchery
with it screwed up in your clenched fist, unable to rernember how it came into your possession. As for me, I was
walking down Main when I passed Red Cat Records and saw a poster in the window which caught my attention.
The text, rendered in bright red, said. "Never Ever War." "Yeah," I said. "That'sUghtr-'Never. Ever. War." It was around
the time of the first strikes on Iraq and it summed up my state of mind perfectly. After that I made inquiries and discovered that the artist, one Sean Maxey, was having a retrospective show at Red Cat (which is still gaing on, by
the way), and I made my way down there. I met the artist (a most affable chap), had a lovely chat, and arranged
the interview you're about to read.
I hope you' II agree with me when i say that Sean Maxey is one of those people that makes Vancouver an interest-
ing place to live. Next time you're wandering around, try and pay a bit more attention—you might just see one of
his pieces—there's one—peeking out. between the boring billboards and territorial tags. And hopefully you'll stop
for a second, much like I did.
DiSCORDER: So, you make a living designing stuff?
Sean Maxey Yeah, and illustrating. I have contracts with a couple of
agencies 'round town and I try to stay outta the corporate realm as
much as I can.
Where did you start? Are you from Vancouver?
Well I grew up in Chilliwack.
On the "Highway of Tears"?
That's an interesting place.
Yeah, I grew up out there and I guess I just started doing art. I'd draw
pictures and stories and narrate them on cassette tape and... It's a
real hockey town and I just remember one of fhe neighbourhood's
'hockey dads' asked me one day, "So, all you do is draw?!" All the rest
of the kids were so into hockey, he couldn't believe I wasn't...
You were never interested in hockey?
Nah, I'm terrible at sports.
So, what brought you to Vancouver?
I went to arts school—Cap College. It was a good program in the early
'90s. And I worked in a record store for a while.
Which one?
A&B Sound. I met a bunch of great people through that, and then I
just started illustrating.
What for?
Br... well, friends from college just kinda got me doing stuff around—like
contracts and agencies—and then I worked in a studfo for a year and
a half. That was terrible.
Why was it terrible?
Ahh, it was just long hours, you know? Yeah, the design industry is a
Why is that?
Oh, well, it's really cutthroat and, err... I just got out of it. I've, just been
pretty fortunate to hook up with good jobs and a lot of music stuff local-
Do you do a lot of that local music stuff for free?
Wei, the Nasty On—I did their last City Sick cover—they bought me a
car. They bought me a station wagon—an old '77 Country Squire—like
a woody. So there's always some sorta token. That was totally sweet.
I really liked that cover...
Yeah, that was a combination of the Mean Streets cover for the
Scorsese movie, and Loaded, kind of, by The Velvet Underground.
What other influences do you have?
WeU. Dan Clowes for sure. Eightball comics—have you ever read those?
And Petlibone—Raymond Pettibone—who did all the Minutemen covers and Black Flag'covers—that stuff's great. And KQthe Koltwitz.
Which brings us nicely to the first of your posters: what's the story behind
the "No War Never" poster?
Wei, I have a print of that hanging in my living room. And i couldn't
make it to the peace protest—one of the ones going on downtown.
And this was recently—for fhe war on Iraq?
Yeah. I was feeing 1. so. that was in front of me, her version of it...
How does her version dMer?
WeB. it's in charcoal. It's the exact same pose, but he's wearing—he's
kind of wearing rags—it's early Berlin, 1924, so she did stuff like
"Germany's Children are Starving", and social posters.
Was she part of the anarchist movement—or more socialism?
Socialism. Hitler shut her down before the Second World War.
He's wasn't big on that stuff, was he?
No. [Laughs] He was an artist, too. though, I think.
Yeah, he used to paint postcards in Vienna. But, getting back to the
poster, did you putt up al over the place? I saw it in the window of Red
Cat Records and other places down Main.
Yeah, I had a decent amount of contributions that paid for everything.
I just sent out an email and we had 500 posters put up the night before
the first attack, or whatever it was.
The "Shock and Awe"?
Yeah. (We both laugh—in an "isn'Mte-American-govemment-stupid"
kinda way—but with a hint of resignation because there wouldseem to
be very little that either of us can do about it.]
16 August 2003 ues. \une10w
The Royaf
So, the red Station A one—that's your band, right?
Yeah, my now-defunct band. Those posters... have you ever read
Yeah, pretty much even/ one. I'm a huge tan.
[Like in] Catcher in the Rye—and he's commenting how 'fuck' is written
everywhere. I was reading that book at the time.
There's also a strong Daniel Clowes influence there, too.
Yeah, pretty much. I dunno. I was just so into Bghtball that I had this
romantic notion that the music of Station A was influenced by Dan
Clowes.    'f-'^SS^^
What style of music was Station A?
It was loud and there was a tot of guitar. The Doers are acoustic now;
Station A was compared to Sonic Youth—kind of aggressive, i guess-
dissonant at times.
Do you use models for your posters?
No, that's the thing...
It's straight out of your imagination?
Yeah. Actually, at the moment, I'm doing a portrait of a girl who's doing
an art show that's coming up—Erin Cow. She came to the art show at
Red Cat and asked me to do a poster for her art show, it's kinda weird,
but I said that the only way that will work is if I do a portrait of her.
Actually, I used models for these nudes here. And, err, I kinda loosely
used myself and then a friend of mine for her and kinda myself for him.
And after they got printed and put up this girlfriend of mine said, "Oh,
yeah, that's kinda nice—buti really pity that guy. He's got a really small
penis." [Laughs] I mean, it's not an accurate representation of my
body, right?
It's smooth, though—I see you're shaved?
Yeah. I wasn't sure whether I was going to use hair; I decided not to. I
think that's the only one I've ever modeled. It's funny, 'cause that
poster—I like the other ones, too, that I haven't modeled—but this one
was at the Brickyard when Don Caballero was playing, and the drummer, I guess, really liked that poster—it was up at the back or something—and he said, "Who did this?" And it was like, "Sean did this, and
. he also did these others," and he was ike, "Oh, I can tell he didn't put
as much time into these others." So maybe I should use models more
He actually asked me to do a Don Caballero cover, so I sent a
bunch of stuff off to his address and we sat around arid talked about
SCTV for a long time—which is where they got their name from—Guy
Caballero. So I sent a bunch of stuff off and he never got back to me.
I don't know what happened.
And what's the story behind this Doers one? Sniffing glue, eh?
Yeah, yeah. Wei, it's an acoustic band, right, so... we don't huff glue.
You don't?
No, but I'm not condoning glue huffing. [Laughs] But I'm not condoning going around writing 'fuck' on windows, either. Like, I'd say maybe
tag something with.something witty. 'Fuck' isn't... It's ike shit on the
sidewalk; it's kinda funny but that's it. *
Sean Maxey's Retropecttve 1$ on now at Red Cat Records (4307 Main
Sheet: Tel: 708-9422).
17 DiSCORDER Hey pal, why the long face? Oh,
you picked up last month's issue
and searched high and low for
Riff Raff but couldn't find it. Well,
uh, you see, I can explain...oh
and what happened the
month before? Ok, so funny
story...wait, you actually read
■ he column? I had no idea.
Well, thing is...uhh...between
being somewhat lazy and a
iast minute editorial decision
to replace vours truly, you, my
dedicated follower of vinyl fashion, twjfe'had to wait much too
iong to get your dose. Let's do
something about turning that
frown.'$giside down...yeah that's
■ ight...the platters that matter.
Local synth-punk quartet
aLUnARED will start a riot on
the dance floor with their newest release Elctrk! It'll have the
Sanctuary kids (y'know those
Sunday night ravers) up in arms
and trying to dig up all their old
Skinny Puppy records instead
of whatever "electro-slush" is
the current flavour du jour. Both
tracks ("It Is Your Anthem" b/w
"The Electric Blood") give off a
Killing Joke feel with their strong
percussive backbones, but the
keyboards also provide the
Tiuscle to get the black pointy
shoes moving to the sounds,
end the vocals evoke a sense
of urgency that could have
otherwise been rejected for a
delivery that may have been a
bit more cold and detached.
Take that Adutf(Gold Standard
Laboratories, P.O. Box 178262
San Diego, CA USA 92177).
From the buzz of the future
to the jangle of the past, The
Tyde craft some fine pop music
that harkens back to the days
of The Byrds, but also sits well
with contemporaries like The
Apples In Stereo or at times,
The High Llamas. "Go Ask Your
Dad" and "Blood Brothers" are
a testament to the fact that
good, lazy Sunday afternoon
anthems are still being written. (Rough Trade, Chelsea
Hotel, Suite 103 222 West 23rd
Street. New York, N.Y. 10011).
Of course the Saturday
night before; is.;, reserved for
Rocket From' The Crypt, and the
two   new  get-up-to-get-down
new vinyl
by bryce dunn
stompers that Speedo and Co.
are now famous for. Recorded
during the Group Sounds sessions with guest drummer Jon
Wurster (of Superchunk), "On
The Prowl" resurrects the main
riff * from "Slow Down" and
greases it nice and thick like
the pomade in Speedo's hair,
and the .flipside "Come On" is
a Harlem shuffle workout punctuated by the ghetto horns of
Apollo 9 and JC2G. Wrap it up
in a sick-ass sleeve courtesy of
Neil Cabrera ana you've got
; the 666th release for Long Gone
John's anti-corporate empire...
(Sympathy For The Record Indus
I'll spend the other days of
the week trying to figure out this
four-way battle royal between
The Gossip, The Supreme
Indifference, Erase Errata and
Sleetmute Nightmute. First off
the Olympian trio of Beth, Brace
and Kathy weigh in and camel-
clutch their way to victory with
the hip-shake shimmy of "Snake
Appeal" over the star-studded
trio of Kim Gordon, Alan Licht
and Jim O' Rourke's mess of a
song called "A Lick In Time". Sure
there's experience and wisdom
seeping through every pore, but
it's a simple case of whether or
not I'd prefer to have my brain
or my feet hurt. I'll take feet,
thank you. On the other card,
the California girls of E.E. lock
horns with the Portland ladies
of S.M.N.M. and to paraphrase
LL Cool J, "E.E.gonna knock you
out!" with their minimalist B-52's
style punk track "O.M.S.F.N."
Sleetmute Nightmute came
close to winning, but lost me
with their not-grr! meets spazz-
core cut-"The V&V Girls". (Kill
Rock Stars, PMB 418 120 NE State
St. Olympia, WA USA 98501).
Time now for o punk rock
history lesson courtesy of The
Doughboys and a re-issue of
their La Majeure 1987 EP. Before
there was The Promise Ring, The
Get Up Kids and the umpteen
other "emo" bands that would
saturate the minds of depressed
kids everywhere, these Montreal
youngsters gave us some
pretty sweet .punk rock fused
with personally inflected lyrics,
mostly notably on their classic
1987 LP, Whatever. The three
songs on this EP ("The Forecast",
"Stranger From Within" and "I
Remember"), were the original
versions before they were rerecorded for inclusion on the
album, but these versions have
a slightly more raw and vibrant
tone, all backed by singer
John Kastner's trademark hiccupping vocal delivery. Not
only is this particular piece of
punk history worth listening to,
but also I can imagine not a
lot of these were pressed due
to the costs of cutting these
tracks onto heavy-duty wax
and a cool transparent yellow/
orange colour scheme. Ebay
nerds watch out! (Scamindy
Records, P.O. Box 21663 1850
Commercial Drive, Vancouver,
B.C. Canada V5N 5Y1).
Rounding out the hit parade
this month is The Explosion,
melodic hardcore outta Boston,
Mass. Two new tunes grace a
seven inch on their own' label
(Tarantulas Records, www.tara
ntulasrecords.com) which  has
also turned out to be the home
for some up-and-coming banc's
that The Explosion believe in
and want to be hea.o. "Original"
Thought" and The Crashes" are
pure adrenalin rushes of crisp
guitar fury backed by drums
that don't just sit there; they
attack you and grab you by the
scruff of the neck. This is back-
to-basics hardcore with a noc!
to forefathers Minor Threat but
not without melody where it s
needed; sharing the spotlight
on this release are The Tonsils,
with the songs "Elephant Man",
which sounds a lot like early
Rancid or The Clash, and "Red
Sensation" a chant-a-long mid-
tempo number that also echoes
'77-style punk influences. As my
homies on the corner would
say,  "It's the shiznit.  dog!"   •
G  O  X   X    !    P
THE....... .flMJPRBME     ' 1 NO I fi
ings mor^&wards
ma**, that waiting <*i
uel seems almost tragic/
V*A K®^ Devotion is
' focl^n*foli.cbr6Ured \
" A refreshing blast of l^prw
fresh off a Met^eyside*^F^s^»
R&B hooks in retro ^i^^^^m
^SEyfef High Dials liw
August 4 Purple Onionv
August $ RumWIefest (rumbteton
...the High Dials sounds
s» twanging guitars and
S^^piij^burce forlPerfect Guitar Pop
*£io4 wwWerainbowquartz.com
in USA } Canada add $1 pe
18 August 2003 SCREW YOU
andyourpointy s/toes
2   OO3
Are you a local band or musician? We are now
accepting entries for SHiNDiG! 2OO3. Send
in your minimum three song demo of original
material (all styles welcome) for an opportunity to play CiTR's annual rock 'n' roll death-
match! Toss your demo, contact information,
and anything else you want us to see in an
envelope and address it to:
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19 DiSCORDER recorded media
Let Go       "    '"""  > -   -
Nodo Surf
(Barsuk Records)
Call it the class of '96. local H.
Superdrag; the major label one
hit wonders. Everyone figured
that's all these bands were—so
why are they still around? More
importantly, why have their
subsequent releases been so
damn good?
Nada Surf was a member
of this illustrious class.    The
bands experienced a brief stint
of popularity with that song
- about high school where the
[• guy kind of just talks through
f the verse, but were ultimately
I dismissed as a novelty act.
I End of story? Not quite. Since
I their debut release, Nada Surf
: has churned out two stunningly
accomplished albums of pop-
rock bliss. The latter is Let Go.
in which the band sounds more
confident in its writing and its
influences—notably Cheap
Trick, who singer Matthew
Caws paraphrases in "The Way
You Wear Your Head"—as well
as more heady songwriters like
Bob Dylan.
Let Go is a strong album
throughout. Its songs are varied enough so as not to bore
the listener, yet the album
hangs together well—despite
being recorded and mixed by
five different people (including Chris Walla of label-mates
Death Cab for Cutie). Though
hailing from New York City,
Nada Surf stays away from
any of the sounds that have
recently rekindled that.city's
music  scene.     Caws  once
described Nada Surf's sound
as "the gap between where ;
you know where you are and :
where you know where you "'•
are going," an apt description )
for this album; Let Go manages |
to create a sound which tran-'
scends genre specificity and \
time. It could have been written in 1978, 1993, or 2007.
Nada Surf and other
bands of their ilk have managed to survive the major
label machine through the
novel concept of writing strong
albums that build on a sound
developed in each previous
release. With production that
sounds both slick and raw, Let
Go continues this tradition, providing the perfect soundtrack
for all the "...happy kids/with
the heart of an old punk."
/an Gormley
The Ataris
So Long. Astoria
Listening to this CD is like reliving
the afternoon when you and four
of your best friends (assuming
that these four friends are in a
band, own their own indie rock
and punk store, and cover Don
Henley), skipped class in your
senior year of high school to go
to the beach. But it's been a
long time since graduation and
those friends just can't fucking
get over it—to the point where
you stop returning their phone
calls. It's good, but at times So
Long, Astoria tries a little too hard
to be the soundtrack for every
17-year-old. (Cue the fan comment, "It's like they wrote every
song for me!") We all know that
20 August 2003
"Teenage Riot" so kicked the ass
of "In This Diary", but "The Boys of
Summer" makes this CD worth
obsessing over.
Niki Reitmayer
Cibelle came to international
prominence as vocalist on
Suba's brilliant album Sao Paulo
Confessions three years ago.
Cibe//e finds the young Brazilian
chanteuse stepping out on this,
her international debut, mining much the same territory as
explored by Suba's previous
productions. Produced by heir
apparent to the late producer's
throne of Nu-Brazil, Apollo 9, and
mixed   by   Morcheeba's   main
men, this release aims at much
the same audience that made
Bebel Gilberto's Tdnto Tempo
(also largely produced by Suba)
such a surprise summer hit a
couple of years ago.
Though not as initially catchy
as Tanfo Tempo, nor as atmospherically groove-driven as Soo
Paulo Confessions—both of which
it can't help but be compared
to—Cibelle nonetheless captures
the imagination in much the same
way as its predecessors. Sung in
both Portuguese and English in a
rather relaxed manner, many of
these tracks go down like a cool
cocktail on a warm summer's
day. Breezy bossanovas and sultry
sambas lightly wrapped in a heat
haze of electronics and smoked
funk-lite will certainly appeal to
those looking for a soundtrack
to waste many a sun-drenched
hour by. Can someone pass me
another drink? I'm too lazy to get
up right now...
DJ Satyr/con
Caitlin Cary
I'm Staying Out
(Yep Roc)
Ryan   Adams.      Whiskeytown.
With that said, I can now start
this review.
Alternative country acts are
usually labeled as such because
their music is in some way more
unconventional or less accessible
than their mainstream counterparts. However, about the only
thing preventing I'm Staying Out
from sliding into heavy rotation
at JR FM is its release on an indie
imprint. The mid-tempo ballads
and warm production values
that permeate Cary's album
are hardly compelling of original;;
"You Don't Have To Hide" might
as well be playing right now on
CMT. Cary's character sketch
lyrics of memories, loss, and
heartache—while pleasant—fail
to stir up much emotion. Though
Cary does manage a few truly
intimate moments ("Sleeping
In on Sunday" and "The Next
One" come to mind), overall,
I'm Staying Out registers as the
musical equivalent of floral wall-
. paper it may be nice to look at
and easy on the senses, but it
fades into the background far
too easily.
Neil Braun
DJ Cheb i Sabbah
As Far As: A DJ Mix
Cheb  I  Sabbah  is  a  curious
anomaly in DJ culture. A man
of Algerian birth now in his late
. 40's who has collaborated with
■ an impressive list of musicians
and other artists  (Bill Laswell,
: Psychic TV,  Brion Gysin, and
! Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to name
' but a few), he has been DJ-ing
'% long before raves became com-
I monplace. In the last few years,
I he has released two impressive
CDs [Shri Durga and Krishna Lila)
on sixdegreesrecords featuring
Hindustani and Camatic musical
traditions that incorporate master
musicians within contemporary
settings; the result is something
far more integrated and satisfying than the usual cut and paste
pastiche   found   in   electronic
productions that simply sample
"ethnic" music.
As Far As is not so much
a showing of a DJ's mad skills
as it is a tasteful selection of
comparable musical stylings. DJ
Cheb i Sabbah weaves a mix of
Hindustani, Arabic, and North
African-inflected beats and
atmosphere—demonstrating in
the process their interconnected
natures. This cross-fertilization is
featured in tracks like Salla by
Makale, where one hears Turkish
hip hop, while a remix by Jan
Rase entitled "Gwana Impluse"
mixes ambient drum & bass
with call-to-prayer-like vocals.
Meanwhile, Indian multi-percussionist Trilok Gurtu's latest experiments with African pop are heard
on the track "Have We Lost Our
Dream?"—featuring the voice of
Saflf Keita. Cheb i Sabbah features some of his own Hindustani
and North African-influenced
(and previously unreleased)
tracks alongside his remixes of
the late jazz legend Don Cherry,
flutist Paul Horn, and Solace. Also
worked into the mix are selections
from Najma, Natacha Atlas (singing in French), Sekouba Bambino
(Guinea), Tolres (Morroco),
and the Asian Dub Foundation.
Sabbah reports that his next full-
length release will focus more on
the music of North Africa. His own
track, "Pour Matoub", included
here gives us some indication as
to how this will sound. The overall flow is a balance between
irresistible grooves and haunting,
ambient interludes as one travels
through these various culturally
influenced soundscapes.
As far as DJ-mixed CDs go,
this is more for the eclectic listener than the all-night party raver. It
also demonstrates that music is
truly the universal language by
which all cultures can interrelate.
That alone makes this a worthy
addition to anyone's collection.
DJ Satyricon
Chris Clark
Ceramics is the Bomb
Like nipples on a sow, the number
of artists you can count descending from the belly of the mother
pig that is Aphex Twin on the farm
that is Warp Records is startling.
Chris Clark is one such nipple. To-
be fair, each of these artists brings
a different sense of form and
colour to the mammary arts, but
their indebtedness to their mother's glands is clear; swap any of
their tracks with any track among
the slow ooze that has been
coming out of Richard D. James'
mind for the past few years and
no one would be the wiser.
That's not to say, however,
that this tit isn't worth a suck (last
one for a while—I promise). In
fact, each of the six tracks on
this EP is a sculpted, decadent
gem of the IDM form. Melodies
are deftly hammered around
like ping pong balls by erratically
crunching rhythms; deranged
and detuned sound effects plummet into the flow of the songs at
uncannily precise instants; the
welding of IDM conventions to
hip hop and drum & bass beats
is skilfully pushed forward, without
slipping into the banalities that
afflict either of those forms today;
there's even a kooky xylophone
line or two, bouncing around like
a silly, oblivious piglet. No need
to listen closely for fhe old swine's
sense of humour, either-the
answering machine recording of
people with British accents saying
funny things is right there, plain as
day, for the enjoyment of IDM
kids worldwide.
No rest for the wicked,
indeed. May the Boss Hog of
IDM's legacy live on.
Fountains of Wayne
We/come Interstate Managers
I thought I could blame Ric
Ocasek for this one. I swore I saw
his-handprints all over it. Forgive
me. I've had a bad month. I was
promised gold three times. What
did I do to bore Grandaddy
and the Dandy Warhols into
such a drooling state? And
you, Fountainersl You naughty,
naughty boys—with your 16 tales
of urban bore-mania, are lucky I
didn't have to pay for this one.
You know what? It's not worth
it. Let's just say it was formulaic
and safe and dull and now it's
time for bed.
Lisa Gerrard
Whalerlder Soundtrack
This is a soundtrack in the pur-
jest sense: 40 minutes of ambience that create an effective
backdrop, but hardly stand as
a separate work. To those who
wish to make dramatic films
about marine mammals, I would
say: "Go with Lisa! She really
knows how to work that lonely-
whale-synth thing." Playing this
album will make a messy room
in a basement suite feel like a
vast, undersea cavern. But to
the public at large, I would say
it's only for those days when
Enya is just too damn stimulating.
Check out something else from
Gerrard's oeuvre—like Dead Can
Dance's Spleen and Ideal—or just
go watch the movie instead.
Kat Siddle
Black Cherry
(Mute Coporation)
With Black Cherry, Goldfrapp's
second full-length, the English duo
depart form the wintry world of
Felt-Mountain and head straight
for the electro cabaret. On just
over half the songs, Alison's
cool siren vocals are grounded
firmly on the dancefloor by dark
synths and disco hooks. The rest
are slower, lushly crystalline constructions that peak with the sixth
track, "Hairy Trees". While these
two sounds don't really mesh,
the album is held together by
an almost campy sexuality that
belies its slick surface. Whiplash
beats snap over orgasmic sighs
and trills, while the lyrics issue
more explicit demands. The final
song is the least radio-friendly,
starting with an ominous rumble
of synths that quickly moves into
S&M dungeon camp.
It's a good album, but it
could have been better. While
all the dance tracks are pretty
good, they're good in the same
ways. A few songs stand out—
"Train", "Tiptoe", "Hairy Trees",
for example—and a couple—like
"Forever" and "Black Cherry"—
could have been left off. But
the best songs aren't that much
better than the decent ones, and
the worst ones aren't that much
worse. By "Strict Machine"—as
catchy as it is—things are starting to sound a bit monotonous.
While this repetition of sonic
motifs can sometimes make an
album a better work as a whole,
on Back Cherry, the slower, more
ethereal songs interrupt any sort
of groove that the dance tracks
get started. It's good to see that
Goldfrapp has the guts to try I The High Dials
*■■ A New Devotion
i (Rainbow Quartz)
The  art of choosing  a good
[.band name sucks—just ask the
£. Montreal     mod-pop    quartet
rj The High Dials. Their first kick at
k&.the can as The Datsons caught
^frthe attention of a certain hard
^.'rocking   New   Zealand   outfit.
^Through   the   simple, amend-
.Jfement  of  adding  the  number
Jffour. they   thought they could
I "solve their problem. Not so, as
tans would affectionately now
want to call them The D4—yet
another New Zealand combo
came calling and asking everso
nicely for them to change their
name again. So they did, and
now, in the next chapter of their
frustrating attempt at solidifying
a permanent, non-New Zealand
a new direction, however, and
I'm definitely curious to see what
evolves from here!
in Medias Res
Of What Was
In Medias Res are not in it to
blow you away, just to make you
understand. The four-piece's
album Of What Was is one
of this year's most impressive
local releases, largely due to its
affecting sincerity. They have
something to say—not just lyrically—but musically as well. The
work both begins and closes with
hushed compositions, intertwined
with conversely more uptempo,
"get off your chair" numbers.
They can certainly rock out (is
there no better term?) with the
best of them, but In Medias Res'
talent lies in evoking a response
in the listener.
The music varies in movements, with busy drumming, supportive bass lines, and intricate
guitar playing complementing
the songs rather than distracting
from them. Infrequent touches
of piano and cello impressively
accentuate a few tracks, yet
occasionally the vocals are indiscernible. This is not bothersome,
as what's ultimately delivered
are sweet melodies that deserve
friendly moniker, a recent visit
to the High Dials website sees a
letter written by ANOTHER New
Zealand band with the same
name just informing the Montreal
group that, "hey, its cool we
have the same name, but
mqybe you'd consider changing
it?" To which I'm sure by this time
the Montreal foursome is saying,
that sentiment expressed, an
album is made, and the result is
a conceptual voyage of self-discovery on behalf of the fictional
protagonist—Silas—and simultaneously echoed in the evolution
of the group themselves. Much
in the vein of other musical
odysseys like The Who's Tommy,
The Small Faces' Ogden's Nuf
Gone Flake, or The Pretty Things'
S.F. Sorrow, A New Devotional
needs a lot of attention paid^j
by the listener (18 tracks clock-J
ing in at just over an hour), but J
in the end it's an enjoyabie-j
ride. Musically, The High Dials j
have shed some of their mod*]
influences last seen on 2000's
See! for more sixties-style pop!3|
and psych sounds, more lush -^T
arrangements, and exciting '.j
new instrumentation (listen to 5
"Things Are Getting Better" for •*
ample use of sitar and tablas).'S
Things do seem to be getting '9
better for The High Dials, andvj
this record is a hopeful and f
inspiring progression in a style I
that's not always easy to mas- ■%
ter. Thankfully, for this reviewer, •'?
it accomplishes both. <$
Bryce Dunn -     1
which demonstrates the wide
range of Maclsaac's influences
while still maintaining a coherent
Celtic feel.
The fast, step-dancing
rhythms certainly got under my
skin and got me moving. Of
course, that could just be 50%-
Celtic DNA affecting my bias, but
what the Hell? Ashley Maclsaac is
a great disc with fun music.
Vampyra Draculea
Magic Ass
fe    Confessions Of A Rocker
I    (Bush Party Records)
Confessions of a Rock Fan:
"I'm listening to generic pop
rock, yeah/Rocking out in mediocrity, uh, uhn/You can fill in the
blanks in every song, yeah/And
it's not that bad, but not that
good either."
Patrick Finlay
Morning Star
My Place In The Dust
(D7 Recordings)
Upon first listen to Morning Star's
My Place In The Dust, it immediately became my new favourite,
album. I own nothing else like this;
there is no logical reason why
I should find myself so absurdly
drawn to these.sounds—except
for the fact that that is what good
music does to you. It is a primal
answer to aniptalistic intuitions,
and I cannot remove this CD
from my player. .    .
At the heart of Morning
Star is one Jesse D. Vernon of
Moonfiowers and Invisible Pair of
Hands (an earlier incarnation of
Morning Star). Though the ideas
remain mostly his own, he recruits
other artists as accompl^es.tcir
the performance. One could not
tell for listening, .however. These
songs are smooth—flowing in the
most lazy of fashions from head
to toe of ar\ audience. His voice
is one that wants to tell-secrets,.
to seduce with dance and the
knowledge that every image is
temporary. I want this music, and
this man, cheek-to-cheek for one
night only in the romantic back
streets of an unfamiliar place.
Vernon could be a lover that I
have always only dreamt of in
the faintest of ways. The images
of such composition are immediately recalled with the sound
of his voice, somehow implying
the hazy dog days of summer
and the possibilities that lay within
such an itching.
My Place in the Dust will take
you far away from Vancouver,
to a place where every note is
languidly played out (which has
no choice.in its reflection), the
delivery not in an explosion, but
in the foreshadowing itself. This
music is to be enjoyed fleetingly,
notes important only in themselves, beautiful with or without
what came before or will follow.
But the most wonderful thing of. all'
is that as a whole this album can
immerse a listener, interesting and
emotional enough to play out all
that it promises.
Motion City Soundtrack
I am the Movie
Epitaph? This band is on Epitaph?
Home of The Dropkick Murphys,
Bad Religion, and Guttermouth?
Maybe it's the Moog—or maybe
it's the clear, melodic vocals—but
this comes as a bit of a surprise to
me. Aside from this initial shock.
Motion City Soundtrack's latest release (and first release
on Epitaph), I am the Movie, is
an album that can be fittingly
labeled as "charming." .». The
charm goes beyond the oddly-
folded print-on-plastic booklet
and the interesting blend of flowers and burning on the cover art.
The songs on this album—namely
"The Future Freaks Me Out" and
"Perfect Teeth"^blend rock
music, synthesizers, and singer
Justin Pierre's wide vocal range
to create a sound that makes
the listener forget about the
simple lyrics and just sit back and
enjoy the sound.
Kimberley Day
The Planet Smashers
I can't deny it. All this CD made
me want to do was sit in the sun
and smoke a joint. It was the best
fifty minutes and thirty-seven seconds I've spent all week.
Niki Reitmayer
Car Paint Scheme
(Warp Records)
In true minimalist fashion, Req
embraces the glitch and meets
you halfway to the dance floor.
Stripping away all the fluff, Car
Paint Scheme remains beautifully
underproduced—allowing for a
primal connection of electronica
and hip hop.
The music essayist Rob
Young, in his Worship the Glitch
[Undercurrents, 2002), explains
the glitch as "the residue, detritus, fading light, the dead skin of
industrial standards" and "nicks
and cracks (that) are wounds-
reminders of the frailty, mortality and imperfection of human
Contained within this frailty,
Req has given us horrof, empowerment, and bare-bone funk.
These are tracks to lay your life
down onto, your thoughts filling
in the digital lacerations.
Patrick Finlay
attention—and when the words
are obvious, the overall message
is clear: these four young men.
have felt as much joy and pain
as the rest of us. This is what we
are to understand, and it's worth
it, for it's what music is aH about.
Of What Was is an album that
improves with each listen, as
each song becomes more lay-
eredandmore engaging. With a
live show that is both tenderand
a release. In Medias Res is a band
to get behind.
Kevin Scofietd
Ashley Maclsaac
(Decca Records)
On pretense of getting in touch
with my Celtic roots, I picked
up the latest album from Ashley
Maclsaac. I have to admit, it
sounds pretty much as I expected
a CD of modern fiddle music to
sound, but I'm not selling it short.
Maclsaac's music could
be described as existing where
Acadian meets alterna-rock, with
some country, rock, and pop sensibilities thrown into the mix. The
point is to showcase Maclsaac's
fiery fiddling.
I thought the best tracks were
the defiant "Fairy Dance" and
the high-energy traditional Celtic
"Bog An Login", but I thoroughly
enjoyed the whole of this disc,
t Dead Meadow
j Shivering King and Others
i (Matador)
{■•They hail from Washington, DC,
I and   Fugazi's   Brendan   Canty
f produced this album, but don't.
m expect any punk rock from Dead
I Meadow.  Billed  as a  "power
8 trio," they chum out vast and
| expansive psychedelic rock with
'" obvious nods to led Zeppelin,
, Black Sabbath, and Blue Cheer.
► Their sound is thick and heavy
y and smothered under clouds of
I stoner-rock tradition,  but they
( don't succumb to cliche, and
I with three albums' worth of expe-
; rience under their belts, they play
! with a confident authenticity that
! would do their influences proud.
» Jason Simon's fantasy-laden lyrics are frequently hard to discern,
as his high-pitched moan is often
buried deep in the mix, coated in
reverb, and submerged contentedly below the brooding drones
and fuzzed-out wah-wah solos
that dominate the album. The
pace is sluggish, but the band
knows their limitations; after five
tracks of sludgy, hypnotic riffery,
they switch up the pace and roll
1  into the gentle acoustic interlude
|  of "Wayfarers All"—before roar
ing back into bludgeoning distortion■■$
on "Good MoanhV". The title track is.
another acoustic ballad, expansive1
and sleekly melodious, evoking the 2
bittersweet, westbound departure^
of .Tolkien's Elven swan-ships, and -s
it begins winding the album down, j
Dead Meadow meanders through;
two   more   brief   acoustic   tracks^j
before unveiling "Raise the Sails", the 4
album's magnificent finale, replete^
with blissed-out drones, spacey key-~
boards, and Simon's most gorgeous-*!
vocal performance yet, an echo-11
soaked croon that blends seamlessly j
with the escalating wall of virtuosic J
noise until the band's trademarked j
mighty riffs take the helm once J
again. Dead Meadow prove that
looking to the past doesn't have
to mean recycling it, and their
unique take on '60s and '
psychedelic rock is rewardingly "
informed by the last 30 years of-*
music as well—tying in strands of 1
metal, experimental drone, and "
spacious post-rock (in addition ^
to the like-minded psychedelica «
of Spiritualized and Bardo Pond), ;
emerging as a triumphantly well- ■
rounded tribute to the ongoing
appeal of music to take drugs to.
21 DiSCORDER The Riverboat Gamblers
Something to Crow About
So lately I've been hearing a lot
of noise about these guys, from
Denton, Texas, on one of these
rock and roll forum/discussion
board thingies, so I took the
plunge and subscribed to it so
I could become just one of the
newest music geeks that spend
way too much time talking about
things like "Fashion vs. Music" and
"How Old is too Old to Rock?"
Needless to say, the hometown
buzz surrounding this group was
off the charts—people surrendering their first-born children
and other worldly possessions
in favour of their incendiary live
show and such—and that's reason alone for me to check out
Something to Crow About. Like
their state motto, this band is
not to be messed with, and the
explosiveness of this record is best
characterized by songs like "Let's
Eat", a 15-second call-to-arms,
and "Hey! Hey! Hey!" answering
the charge; "Ice Water", "Dead
From The Neck Up", and "Last To
Know" are sweat-soaked, blood-
pumping anthems that not only
stick in the head, but go down
smooth—much like the chicken
and beer being downed in the
cover photo. For fans of The Tight
Bros from Way Back When, New
Bomb Turks, and other rock and
roll savages that make music
that's fast, furious, and fun.
Bryce Dunn
Rock Ranger
Sing Along
(No Records)
"Is there seriously a place called
Sydney, Nova Scotia?" It's a
question that few people truly
know the answer to—besides its
locals (of which there are few),
and fans of East Coast Canadian
music. Not only does Sydney.
Nova Scotia exist in all of its post-
industrial glory, but it serves as
home to the band Rock Ranger.
Known for their straight-ahead
rock sound. Rock Ranger has
been delivering the uncomplicated hard rock since 1999, and
continues to deliver with their
latest release. Sing Along. This
album is just what you'd expect
from a band whose label refers
to them as a "Rock and Roll Party
Machine." Wait, no, that's "THE
Rock and Roll Party Machine."
Also, with Ian Blurton—the genius
behind Toronto's Blurtonia—as
the album's producer, nothing
on the album comes as a big
surprise. Despite the album's lack
of inspirational musical innovations, Sing Along is quite enjoyable, with songs like "That's The
Way" and "Minute After Minute"
reminding listeners that rock nowadays doesn't always have to be
preceded by the word "fluff" or
"crap". This album doesn't really
make me want to sing along, but
it does make me think thot the
existence of Sydney, Nova Scotia,
isn't so pointless after all.
Kimberley Day
If We Meet Again In The Future
Saloon's If We Meet In The Future
was in my walkman as I left for
work this morning, slightly late
and flustered. The opening song
was exactly how I felt. Anxious
urgency under a cool exterior.
This track is great—the highlight
The album does not continue
in such a fashion. Mostly, the
songs turn to love, broken hearts,
and insinuated bodies in bed.
Instrumentally, the tendency is
soft. Amanda Gomez is angelic
with a voice which can carry
honesty, mostly without the obvious pretensions that can sometimes be so sadly blatant. As for
pace, there is lingering and the
occasional mild rush.
In general, despite a formula
that should work magic on me, I
found myself largely uninspired
bv this album. Saloon has toured
with some amazing bands and
have garnered some truly fervent responses. I do not deny
that maybe I just don't get it,
but these sounds pass by me as
background music—surely not to
occupy the heart-space reserved
for real-life heartbreak, or joy, or
The Second You Sleep
(Medley Records/EMI)
After listening to The Second You
Sleep, the first full-length album
from Danish rockers, Saybia, I can
only makle one clear assumption
about this band: every one of
the band members has had all
of their relationships end badly.
Every single one. How else does
one explain this collection of
painfully melancholy songs?  ♦
But I must get past my
assumptions and acknowledge
the fdct that Saybia has produced a very good album. On
first listen, the Danish group of the
year sounds a little like Our Lady '
Peace and a little like Coldplay.
That means they are—despite the
claims of the promotional material calls them (alt-rock)—very
mainstream. Their simple and
crisp emotional rock tunes show
off the musical skills that the
members—Soren Huss (vocals),
Sebastian Sandstrom (guitar),   Jess   Jensen   (keyboards),
Jeppe Knudsen (bass), and
Palle Sarensen (drums)—have
practiced for years (a decade
for the original three members)
in rehearsal halls and garages.
The album starts off beautifully
with two of the album's better
tracks, "7 Demons" and "Fool's
Corner", two songs lamenting—what else?—love gone
wrong. Actually, so is just about
every other tune. Some, like the
title track, "Still Falling", and "The
Day After Tomorrow" are better
written and more pleasant to
the ears. The album ends, disappointingly, with the slow and
plodding "The One For You"—in
which, of course, the lead vocalist sings about how he is actually
NOT the one for you.
All right, I spent most of this
review sarcastically telling you
about how .all of Saybia's songs
are about the dark side of love,  j
What I should have done, maybe,  ■
was spend more time telling you  I
how pleasant The Second You
Sleep was to listen to, because  >
this group produces some pretty
good music.
Wilson Wong
The Files You Have on Me
Listeners wanted: WATERDOWN. 1
Brand   new,   2003.   White   and  |
blue w/ hint of orange and blue  1
interior 5.5 x 4.75. German engi- 1
neered, will rock you. Easy main- I
tenance—just keep in CD player   I
No rust, fully loaded. Comes w/
"Bulletproof",   "Nails all  Broken
Short", and "At the Waterfront".   I
Caution: has tendency to kick  |
your ass and leave you beggin'
for more. See your local record  |
dealer.  $14.50  (obo)  Call  555-  I
Niki Reitmayer •
But after a few listens. I gave
in—apart from a lew obvious
stinkers, this album goes down
easier than ice-cold Koo*-Aid.
Blame the summer, blame the
heat, I'm too hot to be bothered
"Err. . Hello?"
Animal Collective
Here Comes The Indian
(Paw Tracks)
I've been tost in Ihe enchanted
wood for a whole month now,
and l-'don't think i wont to be
found/Every time I listen to this
album-it'$ like I've scooped my
brom out, soaked it in the dreaded lysergic, ond then popped St
back in trie wrong «py round.
A mag'cal moonlit stro'I without
ever leaving yotii apartment-
And no nqsty bad Jr-ps. Highly
recommended for solo flying.
Waiting for the Moon
(Beggar's Banquet)
to the promotional.
copy I received for this album, the
latest release from Tindersticks, a
previous writer at DiSCORDER has
gone on record in the pages of
this very magazine to describe the
British group as "masters of understated orchestral beauty." May
I take this opportunity to whole-
y heartedly second this assessment.
Defining the Tindersticks
fcound, as with most bands one
P compelled by, is difficult;
Tindersticks in particular use a
wide range of instruments and
merge their equally varied collection of stylistic influences with an
almost avant garde sense of pop
counterpoint—though their most
prominent influences would seem
to be soul and contemporary
adaptations of traditional country,
which I'm going to call alt-country,
believing as I do that most people
would resist that label are
those that have something to fear
from it. Such people know who
they are.
Tindersticks, for one, have
nothing to fear from it; unlike many
musicians who are successful
within a given genre for their effec-
ive exploitation of that genre's
conventions, Tindersticks deftly
twist their influences into their own
distinct aesthetic. Whereas the
preferred dlt-country template is
to use the dtmosphere of simplicity
and community evoked by acoustic instruments to portray a romanticized idyll of earthier values and
a more authentic experience of
life, Tindersticks seem to be citing
the genre much more slyly—as if to
belie the sophistication of their lyrics, the richness and texture of their
vocal work, and their incredibly
inventive composition with simple,
poignant melodies—creating an
almost comic effect, as on "Just
a Dog". Alternatively, we also
find here the atmospherics of the
genre serving as a bucolic backdrop for more sinister narratives,
as on the opening track, "Until the
Morning Comes". A soul aesthetic
also informs this work, expressed
through the exquisitely false
orchestral string arrangements and
the yearning, mellifluous vocals—as -.™,
with the potently lugubrious "My jf
Oblivion". The results of this stylistic f**
pairing are consistently fascinating
and beautiful. Clearly, Waiting for .'
the Moon is a masterpiece. \
Donovan *s
22 August 2003
the Tyde
(Rough Trade)  .
I wanted so desperately to hate*
this album after first listen; tt'sSoJ
completely , backwardi-loQJdnja,
in every respect, Mot to meptiori
that gormless stoner grin, Whfc»
listening to standout track "Henry.,
Vill", you keep'expecting o
phone cat from ion Seed at any *
moment, asxlng you where -jS
Melt Banana -
Ceil Scape.
Apparently, according to Melt
Banana's lead singer, Yasuko O,
"I car. do what I wcrntl I can die
wnen l wish!" But I jusi can't stop
listening to Ce;f Scope
I missed their now legendary Sunday afternoon performance at,The Pic last year but
making up for it tn fine
me around tov»n m 'he next fe*
weeks, I'll have my headphones
on and be listening to this, feeling Nke an awesomely powerful
Japanese cartoon character
loosed on on unsuspecting city
Zoo Psychology
(French Kiss)
Their last album. Other
Mathematics, was marred by
an a It-consuming- "tnfqtoatiori
with the Gong of Four. Thankfully, THE WEAKERTHANS
Sept 9
@ Sugar
Sept. 10
@ Mesa Luna (all ages)
Sept 11
@ Commodore Ballroom (19+)
New CD/LP in stores August 26
Produced by Ian Blurton - Mixed by Adam Kasper
B3 epitaph.com     theweakerthans.org
23 DiSCORDER Yo La Tengo
The Clean
June 15
Vogue Theatre
I've waited to see Yo La Tengo
play Vancouver tor quite some
time: in the six years- since they *
last played Vancouver, they've
played Seattle at least three
times. And yet. despite my anticipation, I wasn't all that excited to
see the show: I had a really bad
cold and YLT was touring their
worst (or, rather, least-enjoyable-
for-me) album in years. The prospect of listening to a band I love
play a song as awful as "Georgia
Vs Yo La Tengo" (from their latest
album. Summer Sun) held tremendous potential for sadness.
Openers The Clean did a good
job of easing the crowd into the
show. I'm not too familiar with
their records, but the live the trio
from New Zealand sounded like
the Yo La Tengo of yesteryear:
rocking, groove-oriented music
that built up slowly. They fit into the
bill very well and were received
quite well by the audience.
Starting off with the soft.
meandering melody of "Beach
Parly Tonight," Yo La Tengo had
me worried; is this what I had
to look forward to for the next
hour and a half? My fear was
short-lived as the next song took
c Blur
a major tempo change. Not
to disparage their slower, more
ethereal songs, but I prefer it
when Ira. Georgia, and James
kick it. I hold their 1997 album I
Can Hear The Heart Beating As
One as sacred and those songs,
which fend to be a bit more
straightforward and lively, were
the ones I was excited to hear.
And I did get to hear a few of
them: "Stockholm Syndrome",
"Deeper Into Movies" and
"We're an American Band".
(I'm told that "Autumn Sweater"
was played towards the end of
the show but, my cold having
overtaken my desire to listen to
music. I had left by that point.)
Not surprisingly, the songs from
Summer Sun sounded much better live, making the whole show
pretty good—although "Georgia
vs. Yo La Tengo" was still brutal.
As Bve performers, Yo La Tengo
were amazing, playing three
encores, lasting two and a half
hours, and taking several request* Their stage banter was
also commendable, as Ira scored
major points for lamenting the
sad deterioratiew of Bryant "Big
Country" Reeves' physique (Do
you remember the Grizzlies?).
It was quite a wait to see Yo La
Tengo, and while it wasn't quite
the  dream show I had been
hoping for, I was still taken by the
band's incredible  musicianship
and intensity. Too bad it isn't 1997.
Saul Berson Quartet
June 22
Vancouver East Cultural Center
This concert opened up with a
set of Middle Eastern-inspired experimental jazz from Vancouver's
own Saul Berson Quartet, which
featured Saul Berson on alto sax,
"Tony Wilson on guitar, Paul Blaney
on acoustic bass, and Kim Darwin
on accordion. Yes, accordion.
Their set consisted mostly of songs
ftom their new CD, Not Here Not
Now, though the songs were
very much improvisational. Their
influences ranged from blues and
rock 1o European folk music to
Spanish and Jewish and Middle
Eastern styles; these influences
were blended wonderfully to create a cool, free-flowing hybrid.
These influences showed up in
the titles as well: apparently,
the first song was called "Middle
Class Dance"—a poke at the
way composers have always created dance music for peasants.
Berson enjoys playing with overtones, color, and timbre—getting
into sounds that seem to quiver
together over ostinatos. I could
often hear microtone exploration
and variations on tuning used to
achieve differing effects. Being
mostly familiar with Berson as part
of Hard Rubber Orchestra, it was
a real treat tahear his own music.
After the Saul Berson Quartet's
humor-filled set, it was time for
the headliners, EST. Sweden's
ESI (Esbjom, Svensson Trio) came
back to Vancouver to be greeted by a very vocally enthusiastic
crowd; it would seem that many
of them had seen EST at last
year's JazzFest and had eagerly
awaited their return. And so they
have begun the process of creating a huge buzz over here like
they already have in Europe—a
well-deserved buzz, I might add.
Pianist/bandleader Esbjorn
Svensson, bassist Dan Berglund,
and drummer Magnus Ostrom
played a wonderful set of their
"European " New Jazz," mixing
acoustic jazz with rock, funk,
blues, art music, and drum &
bass influences. They played with
extended techniques on their
instruments, also processing the
sounds of their acoustic instruments. Svensson's piano was
hooked up to a guitar effects box
via a number of microphones, so
we got to hear hfe piano with a
"wah wah" effect—distortion,
oyerdrive, echo, etc.—as he
played, and mixed these distorted timbres alongside the "normal" piano sounds. Very interesting, and Svensson was sure to
acknowledge their soundman as
the fourth member of the band.
So, like Berson, EST relies heavily
on sound experimentation and
timbral variations. It all worked
E June 21
fc- Vogue Theatre
it wasn't even 9 pm yet, and Blur
Fhad already played their first song
he   evening,    "Ambulance".
s standing in the midst of a
^ horribly   sweaty   yet   completely
it mesmerized crowd that consisted
i largely of women in their twenties or
n late teens, some with hapless
' boyfriends who had to watch their
girls' eyes firmly fixed on two of the
guys on stage: Damon Albarn and
Alex James. People sitting upstairs
in   the   balcony   looked    bored.
Second song into the set, when
the stand-in guitarist Simon Tong (of
ex-Verve fame) began playing the
monotonous  yet  eerily  seductive
intra of "Bcstlebum", I thought to
myself, "no way, it's not right. It's
} supposed to be Graham [CoxonJ's
J part. It's just not the same without
I the shy guitarist, the "Graham" that
f 17-year-old me once proclaimed
to be my "favourite Blur" (a /a your
1 "favourite Beatle") when I was a
college freshman wnW Cutout Biur
I interview  and   pictures  from   the
jl Melody Maker (oh, the good days)
i the walls of my dorm room.
Five years later. Coxon is no lon-
ir in the band, and I thought I too
I would have moved on. I thought
I the Blur show would now only be
nostalgic—yet   calm—homage
F to my teenage obsession with Britpop. You know—I would just be a
sort of "observer" watching them
and their "new fans." How wrong.
It hasn't changed. Albarn, the
one-time King of Britpop (now father of a 5-year-old girl), appeared
on stage in a gray blazer and wore
his trademark boyish smirk throughout the show when he wasn't singing. He danced, performed the
compulsory water-spraying of the
crowd, and mumbled things I never
understood but everyone else apparently seemed to find funny. You
could just see that he was still his old
extremely confident self, the boy
who never wanted to grow up, who
sang about what "rubbish" modern
life was ten years ago, and who
genuinely enjoys all the adulation
from fans. The music was even/thing
you expected it to be. "Girls & Boys",
Blur's 1994 classic from a time when
danceable beats from rock bands
were rare, still made you bounce
and sweat like mad; "Sweet Song"
saw the band's earnest, quietly
reflective side; and "The Universal"
(a song "we haven't played for
ages") was probably alone worth
the ticket price for many people.
When I got home, I put on
"For Tomorrow", a song that,
incredibly, is already ten years
old, and contemplated whether
I should schedule my East Coast
trip around their Montreal show.
Just like what I would have done
without hesitation five years ago.
Priscilla Chen
welt; though. EST have a habit
of starting off their songs quietly
and slowly, usually with a solo,
and then building in texture,
density, and intensity up to a
climax, and then either stopping dead at that point, or
dropping off, coming back up
in tension, and dropping back
again. It was Interesting to see
and feel how they worked with
this energy to their advantage.
They were enthusiastically received, getting two standing
ovations before the show was finished, and screaming cheers from
the crowd the likes of which I've
never heard at a jazz concert. If
you missed them, have no fear:
the shew was recorded for broadcast on CBC Radio Two, and I'm
sure after their reception this time
they'll be sure to return next year.
Vampyra Draculea
Out Hud
June 28
Richard's on Richards
At a recent show in Vancouver,
the lead singer of the headlining band announced to the
enraptured-but-sedate crowd
that the next song would be the
last of the set. "So," he exhorted
emphatically, "you can go crazy
now." Promptly, several people
stood up and shuffled toward
the stage, then stopped. A few
diehards shoved their hands in
their pockets and began nodding rhythmically. One maniac
began tapping his toe. And so
it goes: another rock band had
failed, utterly, to make Vancouver dance. In a city known
worldwide for its marijuana; touring groups must be confused
to find audiences acting like
they're   on   horse   tranquilizers.
Opening Ill's latest Vancouver tour stop. Out Hud faced no
such indifferent arm-crossing.
Merciless programmed beats,
slithery bass, dueling keyboard
waves, and a few semi-choreographed dance routines seem
to be among the keys to the foot
locker in which Vancouver keeps
her dancing shoes. Cellist Molly
Schinct smoothed the edges
of the angular time signatures,
and the crowd showed its appreciation with rhythmic claps
and, lo, movement of the feet.
!!!, a larger band that shares
some of Out Hud's membership,
brought a little less melody and
a lot more rhythm to the stage,
courtesy of dozens of drums and
a sizable number of electronic
elements. !!! makes music accessible enough to make even
the most stoic bartender pour
overpriced drinks to the rhythm,
but complex enough that even
the biggest post-geek from CiTR
wipes off his glasses to pay attention. With every member of
the group rotating between
instruments to play endlessly
diverging and converging lines,
the III disco juggernaut had
the sweaty crowd in the palms
of the band's 16 hands. If not a
group with a name and sound
as exuberant as !!!, then what
band could get someone other
than that one drunk guy in the
hockey  jersey   to   get   down?
Any small complaints,
though? Sure, thanks for asking. Although fusing electronic
devices with live instrumentation-
yields great results tor these two
groups, it's always disenchanting when a band stops playing '
and the music keeps goingr
with everyone onstage staring
at each other while a collection
of gadgets in the corner does a
solo. Thankfully, these moments
were few, for III, and the crowd's
attention was usually diverted
by lead voacalist Nic Offer's
dancing, which was mesmerizing if nothing else. It's hard to
be shy about dancing when the
most spastic rump-shaker in the
house is begging you to join him.
Michael Schwandt
Joel RL Phelps
July 11
Richard's On Richards
I have this friend whose musical
judgments I sometimes trust; he
actually makes music and therefore is one step up on the authority meter—I feel it is only appropriate to at least listen to what he
has to say. A few months back-be
gave me Spoon's Kill The Moonlight in a "you-HAVE-to-have-this-1
album" gesture. My response
was middling, but I thought-that
giving Spoon a chance at a live
show would be the least I could
do, especially since I have since
moved away from this friend and
the   reminiscence   feels   good.
Pre-game show was one Joel
RL Phelps, as I was incredulously
informed by a fellow attendee.
Apart from hearing his name in
the ether of musical gossip, I admit my ignorance. Seeing Phelps
perform, however, I was not realty sure why I had. To fabricate
a metaphor for his entire performance, Phelps did the whole
thing seated, saying, "Sorry I'm
sitting down. It's because I'm
old." But the guy is not even old
at all. Not to mention the strange
dynamic that having bass as sole
man standing creates—which
is too easy \ an escape when
trying to explain the seeming
^Jaafc-of unity between the three
players who were up on stage-
Spoon, contrarily, looked like they
were having fun. They jumped"
up and down, smiled lots, and
laughed out loud. I could even
see them making eyes at one another, communicating assumed
musical secrets. This made for a
good-spirited rock show—though
pretty typically what one would
expect and not blowing any
minds—although my reason was
teased by the sight of the band—
them not appearing as 1 had
always imagined: an incongrueht
reality. Spoon gave the audience one good-hearted encore
and on our ways we went, back
to life exactly as it was before.
Marilyn Manson
Crystal Pistol
July 11
Orpheum Theatre
Full Moon. How appropriate for
a night that saw both Marilyn
Manson and Cradle of Filth visit
ool^^-city to shake things up a bit. I laid my bet on Manson.
Manson has returned to his
old policy of hiring local bands to
open for him, and the lucky Vancouver act this time around was
Crystal Pistol, a gldm/goth metal
outfit. They probably weren't
feeling so lucky after they got
onstage, though, as 99.9% of the
crowd had a "fuck you we want
Manson!" attitug>, with the requisite jeers. This was quite unfair to
Crystal Pistol, though, as they did
an admirable job at an impossible task, and they did seem to
win over a little more of the crowd
with each song in their short set.
I like to pretend I'm the omniscient reviewer, but I must admit
I'm out of this loop and hadn't
heard of these guys—but they
made a good first impression. This
is the kind of music I raised myself
, on, so it was right up my alley.
Sure, the songs have somewhat
cliched lyrics, with titles like "Live
Fast Die Young" and "Teenaged
Parasite", but nonetheless I Ike
their sound and attitude. Lyrics improve with age, anyway.
After the intermission, it was
time for Manson. The Orpheum's
ornate elegance was a great
setting for the Weimar-inspired
Grotesk Burlesk show, and the
fact that another of Manson's
current influences is vaudeville
made it even more perfect that
the venue was an original vaudeville house. As for the show itself;
it was a stripped down version
of Marilyn Manson—mostly new
material, a much simplified performance from his earlier work,
making more use of scrims than
sets, and, of course the now familiar dancing girls in their fascist-
type uniforms and fake genitalia.
Manson himself was the same as
ever—high intensity performances and sardonic wit in his commentaries. One of the few props
used was a giant inflatable Man-
son head with Mickey Mouse ears
and blackface makeup, which I
suspect would give the little kids
in the balcony some nightmares.
Yes, little kids—I have it on good
authority that there were kids as
young as seven up there with
their parents. There's a strange
audience for the man so maligned by the family values freaks.
There was no encore to follow the 90 minute set, perhaps
because keyboardist Madonna
Wayne Gacy busted his hand,
or perhaps because it's just
not part of the Manson milieu
anymore. All in al! a good show.
Vampyra Draculea
MC Honkey
July 13
Richard's on Richards
Forgive me for comparing this
concert to the Spoon concert I
saw two days before, but it was
interesting to see all my CiTR
buddies at one show and not
the other. They could be onto
something, because as eager as
I was to see the odd and masterful "E" take to the stage, I kept.
wishing there were more chairs
at Richard's on Richards.
Just a little about the opening act: MC Honkey is a DJ
who reminded me of when my
Grandpa Elqert DJed in the '40s
before the Nazis confiscated all
his gear. He was a portly, bald,
pipe-smoking—and apparently
mute—gentleman with a cha-
peau and a thirst for deep dance
hall grooves. He simply went to
his decks, did his half hour set,
and left. We were amused; he
tipped his hat to us, ripped off
his jacket, set it on fire, and then
did a two-minute backspin on
the coat to put it out... I wish!
So Eels frontman Mark
"E" Everett came through the
crowd and delighted us all. Then
he played songs from his new
album. OUCH! I kid—I kid! "Dog-
Faced Boy", "Souljacker", and
"Novocaine for the Soul" were
played with passion and super-
ness. However, I expected more
from a guy who hasn't been
around these parts for seven
years. It was good, but was it
Spoon good? Actually, I kind
of thought Spoon sucked, too.
Nina Nastasia
Joel RL Phelps
July 21
The Royal
Nina Nastasia is one of the most
beautiful women I have ever
seen. Something about the
way there was pleat alignment
from bottom to top, the way
sandals expose a tattoo only
assumed lo come from a past
life, and the wdy her hair was
as a crown. And all of this just as
she brushed past—an off-guard
beginning to her whole affair.
Be it a beginning in the middle,
as it were, as Joel RL Phelps occupied the stage before Nastasia
even stepped through the doors.
Going into this set with a bitter
taste in my mouth, I noticed immediately that this evening was
not to be a repetition of past
experience. Despite the fact
that Phelps is (by his own admission) old and tired, he roared
with a guttural energy that I
had not known him for. Though
many pieces could have been
each other, they appeared to
have a sliver of Phelps in them;
Phelps brilliantly read by his sole
(percussive) accompaniment.
And one thing that cannot be "
disputed about Phelps is that his
audience seems to unquestion-
ingly adore him—albeit sometimes a little too eagerly. (Please
let the quiet parts remain in
silence for there are truths there
also... [Take that, Christa. —Ed.])
Kneeling to reconfigure- all
the intimate details and speaking
to men who could have been
of an old world religious order,
Nastasia, then, was breathtaking
in a sense an older generation
would have reserved the claim
for. So much of her performance
seemed strangely out of time,
from her physical embodiment to
the way her voice weaved in and
out of the many strings, twisted air,
"and.inyisible pulse of the music
itself. Nastasia told us stories, but
ones not her own, only that this is
her craft and she comes to it with
a blood rich in the iron of earth.
The voice of these tales was not
restricted to her own—strings
spoke volumes in subtle delicacy.
She had the most melancholy
accordion player ever, one of
many tokens of a music rich with
explosions in places you'd least
expect, like a sadness that forces,
tears before you can even reaize
that you have been overcome.
And I surrendered at the end of
the evening to the arms of my
lover, and to a night full of dangerous dreams. Waking to recognize
how fitting my denouement was.
The Immortal Lee County Killers II
The Gung Hos
The Sweet Fuck Alls.
July 27
The Brickyard
How could the sweltering night
collapse, when all the children
testify? I'll lay it down right now
to get it out of the way. The Gung
Hos put on a perfectly nasty and
raw set. They let loose and held
the attention of a rather eager
and expectant crowd. The Sweet
Fuck Alls played a little too rock
star- for my refined and cultured
tastes, but they acted like they
couldn't give two shits on a Sunday. So, if for nothing else, I bow
down to their resolve. I'm here to
spread the gospel like so much
wild fire through the dried out
hills; we'll let it catch and dance
by the light of the world in glorious, reaching flames. The gospel
will awaken the meek to the rap
ture of the unhinged and brilliant
twosome, turning all the children
into Apostles. See. when you follow the Killers you walk with your
brothers and sisters, you all walk
with that fire in your eyes and that
sound .in your heart. This more
than anything brought a grasping and sweaty smile to my face.
The Immortal Lee County Killers II
seem to have a soft spot for the
relics of the street and the freaks
that dig them into the beyond.
They stood on the stage as some
racy, near-vaudevillian busker
damned and endeared. The Killers stood silent, grinning—then, to
let him know his time had come.
Cheetah hit that string. Every song
was a rumbling, screeching fury,
and the beauty is that everything
was brutally spontaneous (save
for the ranting performance
of the Token One: he is truly all
fury packed tight and snarling).
Cheetah (hidden beneath a
tangled mess of hair, dressed in
the dark suit of some southern
grifter) is a fucking demon, and
he plays possessed by the dark
forces circling all. around the
Brickyard. He drained this town
of evil, drank it up, and spat it out
the amp. Cheetah gives birth to
guitar menace like he's building
an army of sound. Let him take his
hold on you. and while you stand
there—slack-jawed, stupefied—in
stomps the Token One, then the
only question is who's gonna take
control when that boy finally lets
loose with all that fire inside? He
stood on that kit exposing us to
the word of the Killers; he wanted
to reach our souls to let us know
that the so-called dark side really holds all the Sght and-divinity.
Anyone else would have been
heckled—not Token: he spoke
of the heart from the heart and
no one fucking thought of laughing. Those of us there witnessed
righteousness arm and arm with
thunder; we witnessed a show
with two of the most serene and
surreal moments I've ever been
fortunate enough to see. One
was J.R.R. Token taking on a
Lead belly tune as he stood leaning into fhe crowd—all wild voice
and southern gothic charm. The
other was Cheetah, solo—breaking down a tune so mournful and
tortured it sounded as though he
would collapse; the night had left
him sweat drenched in the blue
light. As he trailed off, I'm certain
all that held breath in the crowd
was released in one gasp of
respect. Tell your mothers and fathers, go on and testify, tell them
there's no church can hold you,
now—not anymore, not after you
saw the The Killers on a Sunday.
Derek Sterling Boone •
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by esther
Gluttony Is a Deadly Sin
Earlier this year I became
a vegan on a whim, and
exactly six months later another
impulse decision was made to
call it quits. During the course of
our short-lived affair, I repeatedly browsed the internet for
pictures of dairy-rich and meaty
dishes and compulsively dreamt
. of doughnuts. I was fraught with
the regret-and shame of infidelity. Since then, my relationship
with veganism proved to be a
short love with a long divorce: I
still can't look at a cube of tofu
without a pang of guilt.
Much unlike Edward Norton's
character In Fight Club. I find the
best part of traveling by air is the
food: the single-serving entree,
single-serving dessert, and so
forth. People of AirlineMeals.net
seem to share my sentiment.>
Sort of.
A quick scroll through the
comments and photos was
enough to tell me that these
people take their food seriously.
A little too seriously. Growing up, I
didn't dare complain about food
because a heavy lecture about
the starving children in North
Korea would inevitably follow.
Restaurants take note: I'm the
food critic of your dreams. With
that said, everyone's a critic on
this site—so much scrutiny, so
/srnany.rpprB^g^ts,. ,J3| .imagine
website, hotornot.com where
men and women are routinely
ridiculed and graded based
on their physical appearance.
In particular, the "Meal of the
Month" thread on the forum conjured up some uncomfortable
memories of high school popularity contests. All right, I admit
food-criticism isn't nearly as vain
as shows like America's Next
Top Model. Then again, food
'Jst^'^afit to be nitpicked—it's
meant to be eaten. Just ask the
children in North Korea.
they are the type of people who
send back dishes at a restaurant
because the pasta is slightly overcooked. The type of people who
make a big fuss over the texture
of potato chips. The type I don't
understand. I have never met an
in-flight meal I didn't like. In fact,
the best creme caramel I've ever
had was on an airplane—and in
the economy section at that. Of
course, not all ratings were negative. The comments from the first
class flyers were generous at
times. They better not complain,
or I'll launch my mom at 'em.
All this dissection and scoring remind me of beauty pageants, or that awfully decadent
It's a doodle, it's a journal. She
draws what she eats on her PDA
(see above pictures) with side-
running comments about her
day. Weird.
I wish I'd come up with this first. •
luke meat's
musical satori
Desperate Bicycles
Remorse Code
When I was 12 years old, I was
in a shitty theatre production of
"Gypsy" in Red Deer, Alberta,
during which I met a guy named
Cliff Lang. I looked up to him a
lot because he was older and
knew lots of really funny jokes.
One time he made me laugh
so hard I pissed my pants in his
car. I'll never forgive myself for
that. However, previous to that
embarassment, he loaned me
a third generation taped copy
of an album, which to this day
I have never seen, or even held
in its original form: Remorse Code
by the Desperate Bicycles. Cliff
said he bought it when he was
having a competition with a
friend to see who could find the
weirdest band name (his friend's
choice: The Cramps' Bad Music
for Bad People). Remorse Code
has become my white whale
of record collecting, catching
as much as $80 US on Ebay.
.1 tried to research this group,
but to no avail-^-not even
allmusic.com could help with
my query. The only thing I could
turn to was the Bible: The Trouser
Press    Record    Guide,    which
26 August 2003
describes them as a "post-punk
Chocolate Watch Band"—but
that still doesn't do these cats
justice. As far as I know, they are
a three-piece whose guitarist is
named (get this) Dan Electro.
How cool is that?! They putoota '■
handful of singles, one EP—New
Cross New Cross^and only the
one full-length album. They do
sound of the neo-psych British
garage movement along with
The Soft Boys, but their sound is
more delicately innocent and
the tape loops that surround
"Acting" sound positively
timeless. The social commentary
on self-improvement in "Trendy
Feelings"—"Time heals, but
who needs a vanishing cure?",
is about ten years ahead of
its time. The slow and dreamy
"Blasting Radio" ends the record
with the optimism of better
things to come from this seminal
band, but alas. The Desperate
Bicycles vanished into obscurity.
Despite   digital  file   sharing.
He bought it when he wos having a competition
to see who could find the weirdest bond name
definitely more hummable.
The album opens with "I am
Nine", featuring lyrics such as
" I was nine and I was feeling
fine/but somebody told me I'd
be ten next time." I was instantly
hooked at the bass line of "A
Can Of Lemonade", which
also contained the delightfully
juvenile line, "it didn't cure his
thirst/it made it worse/it made
him burp" with an actual
belching sound. The solid vocal
overdubs of "Sarcasm" still raise
the hairs on my back; "Pretty
Little Analyze" contains the best
'la-la' back-ups to this day, and
doesn't sound much better than
my Sony HF 90-minute tape.
Bleek Swinney managed to
burn me a compilation CD that
he downloaded off of Soul Seek
but, unfortunately, there are
some glaring omissions: "A Can
of Lemonade" is sadly absent,
as'is "Natural History". I can only
pray that one of these days I'll be
in some weird little town where I
can find Remorse Code on vinyl. I
can promise you one thing: If that
day ever comes, I will lose my
bladder control ten times worse
than the time Cliff Lang told me
his series of 'dead baby' jokes. •
KicK   dCbwf\o\   *WKIU*fc loo3
°Sco*b naaiU'v.-
no^LAjr-COME. ^tfSVSr
August Long Vinyl
August Short Vinyl
August Charts 20 Years Ago
1 Frog Eyes
Golden River
Global Symphonic
2 Superfriendz
Love Energy
3 Senor Coconut
Fiesta Songs
Emperor Norton
4 Broken Social...
You Forgot It In...
Paper Bag
5 Von Zippers
Crime Is Now!
6 The Gossip
Kill Rock Stars
7 Hidden Cameras
Smell Of Our Own
Rough Trade
8 S.T.R.E.E.T.S.
Bo Bo Gnar Gnar
Global Symphonic
9 U-Ziq
Bilious Paths
Planet Mu
10 Locust
Plague Soundscapes                     Anti
11 Nina Nastasia
Run to Ruin
Touch and Go
12 Planet Smashers
13 Kraftwerk
Tour de France '03
Astra Iwerks
14 Melt Banana
Cell Scape
15 Los Furios
16 Animal Collective
Here Comes the Inc
ian       Paw Tracks
Me and Giuliani...
Touch and Go
18 Grandaddy
19 Ox
Dust Bowl Revival
20 McEnroe
Peanuts & Corn
21 White Stripes
22 Polysics
Asian Man
23 Von Bondies
Raw & Rare
Dim Mak
24 Manitoba
Up In Flames
25 Enon
In This City
Touch And Go
26 Tim Hecker
Radio Amor
Mille Plateaux
27 Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Fever To Tell
28 Goldfrapp
Black Cherry
29 Buttless Chaps
Lonesome Cowboy
30 N. Pornographers
Electric Version
31 Moneen
Are We Really Happy...        Smallman
32 Cuts
2 Over Ten
33 Radiohead
Hail To The Thief
34 V Village People
35 Four Tet
1 Charming Snakes
3 Tyde
4 Microphones
5 Hidden Cameras
6 Papa M
7 Zombie IV
8 v/a
9 v/a
10 Earlimart
12 Channels 3 &4
13 Starlight Mints
14 Silk Flowers
15 Lost Vegas
16 Omega Cinco
17 Ronson
18 Doughboys
19 v/a
20 Pepe Deluxe
Go Ask Yer Dad
Play "Ban Marriage"
Orange World
Gossip/Erase Errata
Dear Nora/Mates of...
Burning The Cow
Ice Hatchets
Brass Digger
Neo Psych
Family Switchblade
La Majeure 1987
Electro Group
Salami Fever
1 Yello
2 Talking Heads
3 Violent Femmes
4 King Sunny Ade
5 New Order
6 Malcolm McLaren
7 Creatures
8 Aztec Camera
9 Southern Death Cult
10 Danielle Dax
11 Go-Betweens
12 General Saint
14 Hunters & Collectors
15 Clock DVA
16 Tones On Tail
17 True West
18 Bob Marley
19 Pete Shelley
20 Herald Nix
You Gotta Say Yes
Speaking In Tongues
Violent Femmes
Power Corruption & Lies
Ruck Rock
High Land, Hard Rain
Southern Death Cult
Before Hollywood
Stop That Train
Hunters & Collectors
Burning Skies EP
True West
One Night Only
The monthly charts are compiled based on the number of times a CD/
LP ("long vinyl"), 7" ("short vinyl"), or demo tape/CD ("indie home
jobs") on CiTR's playlist was played by our DJs during the previous
month (i.e., "August" charts reflect airplay over July). Weekly charts
can be received via email. Send mail to "majordomo@unixg.ubc.ca"
with the command: "subscribe citr-charts." •
Our anlffl^N|ctory g^iclc full Jfjontact ffimbers
and addresses of bands arid the people and
businesses that support them, will be in tra3|
September issue. The deadline for entries is
August 15
Send your vital statistics in by fax or emaitl-
discorder @dub.ams.ubc.ca
band/musician promoter      record label/distributor
venue       manager studio zine other
name: ,	
description (15 words or less):	
phone: _
All of time is measured by its art.
This show presents the most
recent new music from around
the world. Ears open.
12:00PM-3:00PM £.$*£/,
Reggae inna all styles and
Real cowshit-caught-in-yer-boots
British pop music from all
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.
10:00PM-12:00 AM
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.
6:00AM- 8:00AM
Your favourite browrvsters, James
and Peter, offer a savoury blend
of the familiar and exotic in a
blend of aural delights!
11:00AM- 1:00PM
Local  Mike and  Local  Dave
bring you local music of all sorts.
The program most likely to play
your band!
11:00AM- 1:00PM
Hopefully happy music to get
us through these rough summer
months. Proof that Germans
make more than scary industrial
music, too.
28 August 2003
PARTS UNKNOWN      *v ^*
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
internationat theatre groups. We
welcome your involvement. <sa
A chance for new CiTR DJs
to flex their musical  muscle.
Surprises galore.
Hardcore/punk  as  fuck  from
beyond the grave.
SOLARIZATION (on hiatus) alt.
MY ASS alt.
Phelps, 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.
Aug 4: The first great soloist in jazz
was Louis Armstrong. We honour
his birthday tonight by playing
one of his finest albums. Louis
Armstrong plays the music of
W.C. Handy.
Aug 11: "Cannonball Takes
Charge!" is one of the great alto
saxophonist's very best. Julian
Adderley in a quartet setting with
the magnificent pianist Wynton
Kelly and others.
Aug 18: "Up With It" is the latest concert outing with pianist
Keith Jarrett, bassist Gary
Peacock, and drum master
Jack DeJohriette. Nothing more
need be said except don't miss
this one!
Aug 25: Tonight we celebrate
the birthday of saxophone giant
Wayne Shorter (he's 70 today)
with Gavin's favourite Shorter
record. Etcetera.
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.
your gulde t
CiTR ioi.9 m
Bluegrass, old-time music, and its
derivatives with Arthur and "The
Lovely Andrea" Berman.
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!
Movie reviews and criticism.
Where dead samurai can program music.
Last Tuesday of every month,
hosted by The Richmond Society
For Community Living. A variety
music and spoken word program
with a focus on people with special needs and disabilities.
Join   the sports dept. for their
coverage of the T-Birds.
Up the punx. down the emo!
Keepin' it real since 1989, yo.
8:00PM- 10:00PM
10:00PM- 12:00AM
es»cap»ism n: escape from the
reality or routine of life by absorbing the mind in entertainment or
fantasy. Host: DJ Satyricon.
Aug 5: Pounding System: dub-
wise and otherwise.
Aug 19: Church of Hell: Mars
It could be punk, ethno, global,
trance, spoken word, rock, the
unusual and the weird, or it
could be something different.
Hosted by DJ Pierre.
6:00AM- 7:00AM
Bringing you an entertaining
and eclectic mix of new and
old music live from the Jungle
Room-with your irreverent hosts
Jack Velvet and Nick the Greek.
R&B, disco, techno, soundtracks,
Americana, Latin jazz, news, and
gossip. A real gem! •
Japanese music and talk.
Luke Meat irritates and educates
through musical deconstruction.
Recommended for the strong.
The theme is: there is no theme!
Kat and Claire push around
trolleys of alt-pop, alt-country,
Canadian indie, electroclash,
and other delicious morsels.
Cycle-riffic rawk and roll!
Primitive,    fuzzed-out   garage
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, hosted by
Your ears have never felt so
Roots music for folkies and non-
folkies... bluegrass, singer-songwriters, woridbeat, alt country,
and more. Not a mirage!
Music inspired by Chocolate
Thunder; Robert Robot drops
electro past and present, hip
hop and intergalactic funkman-
ship. <rbotk>ve@yahoo.com>
Crashing the boy's club in the
pit. Hard and fast, heavy and
.   slow (punk and hardcore).
Comix comix comix. Oh yeah,
and some music with Robin.
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!
No Birkenstocks, nothing politically correct. We don't get paid
so you're damn right we have
fun with it. Hosted by Chris B.
The best in roots rock 'n' roll and
rhythm and blues from 1942-1962
with your snappily-attired host,
Gary Olsen.
Local muzak from 9 til 10. Live
bandzfrom 10 til 11.
An old punk rock heart considers the oneness of all things and
presents music of worlds near
and far. Your host, the great
Daryl-ani, seeks reassurance via
6:00AM- 8:00AM
Trawling the trash heap of over
50 years' worth of real rock 'n'
roll debris.
Email    requests    to:    <djska_
Top notch crate diggers DJ Avi
Shack and Promo mix the underground hip hop, old school classics, and original breaks.
The best mix of music, news,
sports, and commentary from
around the local and international Latin American communities.
A volunteer-produced, student
and community newscast
featuring news, sports and arts.
Reports by people like you.
"Become the Media." To get
involved, visit www.citr.ca and
click "News Dept."
David "Love" Jones brings you
the best new and old jazz, soul,
Latin, samba, bossa, and African
music from around the world.
Hosted by DJ Noah: techno
but also some trance, acid,
tribal, etc. Guest DJs, interviews,
retrospectives, giveaways, and
Dark, sinister music of all genres
to soothe the Dragon's soul.
Hosted by Drake.
Studio guests, new releases,
British comedy sketches, folk
music calendar, and ticket
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,
blues, and blues roots with your
hosts Jim, Andy, and Paul.
From doo-wop to hip hop, from
the electric to the eclectic, host
Michael Ingram goes beyond
the call of gospel and takes soul
music to the nth degree.
11:00PM- 1:00AM
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/distort 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. 1
*    2    Z
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604.822.9364 OR EMAIL
July 30-Aug 2
@ various venues
Radio Berlin
Aug 1
@ Pat's Pub
The Flairs
Aug 1
@ The Royal
Aug 2
@ Sugar Refinery
Aug 2
@ Railway Club
Jets Overhead
The Feminists
Aug 2
@ The Royal
Aiko Shimada
Aug 3
@ Railway Club
Frog Eyes
Joel RL Phelps
Aug 6
@ Richard's
The Cinch
Aug 7
@ The Royal
featuring    Shelley    Lennox,    Stuart
Stonechild, Chrystos, Kathleen Year-
wood, LOUD, and more
Aug 8
@ WISE Hall
The Graves
Aug 8
@ Sugar Refinery
The Skatomatics
Aug 9
@ Railway Club
Flying Dutchmen
Orchid Highway
Norton Niels & the Evil Band
Aug 9
@ Pic Pub
ERIC VOLET art opening
Aug 10
@ Sugar Refinery
featurin&Proud Mary, Barleywik, Leonard George & Children of Takaya,
Brigee K, Serwa Fiak & Cyrous Shari-
spour, Eekwol 1, David Hilliard, Black
Panther Fugitives, Blackfire, DJ High-
strung, Infernal Noise Brigade, Black
Rice, Deadsure, Squamish Nation
Eaglesong Dancers, Stuart Stonechild,
Kathleen Yearwood, Macklemore,
Abyssinian Creole, Sinag Bayan, and
Threat from Outer Space
Aug 10
@ Cates Park
FESTIVAL kicks off their 15th anniversary
with The Wizard of Oz: Sing-A-Long
gala. Think costumes, drags, and—best
of all—prizes. (7 pm, Aug 7 @ Capitol
6) I've been waiting for this festival all
year, so you can imagine the intensity of my excitement. And while you
waste your time hem hawing about
which film to see, I'll steal your seat
and laugh my most devious laugh. If
you don't want this to happen to you,
get the pass and see 'em all. The festival runs from Aug 7-17 at various locations. <www.outonscreen.com>
30 August 2003
Aug 16
@ Sugar Refinery
Aug 17
@ Sugar Refinery
Blue Monday, In Your Face, the Answer, and Chuck Norris
Aug 17
Undying, End This Week With Knives,
Misery Signals, Savannah, and Hope
Aug 25
@ Snackerz
The Cinch
Speed To Kill
and more
Aug 17
@ Wardorf Hotel
Aug 17
@ Arts Club Theatre
Hot Water Music
The Forgotten
Worthless United
Aug 24
@ Richard's
SCOTT MALIN art opening
Aug 24
@ Sugar Refinery
57 bands. Three days of sweaty boys
and naked girls. Hmmm... They ve
got beer? Thank God. It's gonna be
Aug 10
a hootenanny!
@ Railway Club
Aug 29-Sept 1
Aug 12
Meat Purveyors
@ The Royal
Aug 29
@ Railway Club
Aug 12
@ Richard's
Randy Jones
Aug 29
Aug 13
@ Sugar Refinery
@ Sugar Refinery
Aug 29-30
Uncas Old Boys
@ Vogue
Aug 13
@ Railway Club
Aug 29
Kent McAllister
@ Thunderbird Stadium
Aug 14
@ Railway Club
1 thought 1 had dreamt this combo.
featuring Los Furios
Then 1 woke up and realized it was
Aug 15
indeed a dream. Who knew 1 have
@ Thunderbird Plaza
psychic capabilities. Excuse me while
1 set up a 900 number.
Aug 30
©Thunderbird Stadium
Pirate Migou.
places to be
active pass records
324 w. hastings
604.646.2411  1
bassix records
217 w. hastings
beatstreet records
3-712 robson
black swan records
3209 w. broadway
cellar                         3611 west broadway
club 23
23 west cordova
commodore ballroom
868 granville
crosstown music
518 west pender
futuristic flavour
1020 granville
highlife records
1317 commercial
legion of van
300 west pender
lotus hotel
455 abbott
the main cafe
4210 main
orpheum theatre
pacific cinematheque
1131 howe
pat's pub
403 east hastings
pic pub
620 west pender
railway club
579 dunsmuir
richard's on richards
1036 richards
ridge cinema
3131 arbutus
red cat records
4305 main
1029 granville
scrape records
17 west broadway
scratch records
726 richards
66 water
sugar refinery
1115 granville
teenage ramapage
19 w. broadway
Vancouver playhouse hamilton@dunsmuir
video in studios
1965 main
western front
303 east 8th
WISE club
1300 granville
zulu records
1972 west 4th
604.738.3232 | 57 Bands
3 Days and Nights
Beer Gardens and Camping;
Labour Day Long Wei^^
August 29 - September H
You're invited to the biggest PARTY of the summer! This"ain't no family
festival, Domestic Disturbance 2003 is a three day music festival showcasing
Vancouver's BEST bands. 12 hours of live music everyday plus contests,
games and a ton of prizes!   Jigfr
Mystery Headliner
3 Inches of Blood
God Awakens Petrified
Christ Complex
Agression Core
Meatlocker Seven
Fuel Injected 45
Los Furios
Star Collector
The Bolsheviks
The Burn Project
The Rye Catchers
Kids These Days
The Rascalz
Brougham Camp
Pepper Sands
New Plastic Society
Mr. Underbill
Ten Ways Form Sunday
Gladyss Patches
DJ Pluskratch, DJ G-Nius,
0SC, Usual Suspecs, Chena Finess
Motion Soundtrack
Adrianne Pierce
Perfect Strangers
Trap Shadow
Playboys of The Western World
Painted Self
Honey Box
The Spitfires
Honey Suckle Serontina
Spread Eagle
Bosephus King
Day Theory
Married To Music
; Mass Undergoe
The Gung Hos
China Town
The Stag Reels
Billy The Kid and The Lost Boys
Faces of Eve
The Golers
Crop Circle
The Way Out
Black Sunlight
Yale and Par Rd. More info
Rd. exit in Chilliwack. Entrance to property located on
at www.domesticdisturbance.ca
Get your tickets at Ticketmaster (604) 280-4444 or online at www.ticketmaster.ca
Supporting Vancouver Musicians f
abve Love CD
as grown from the trunk of the "early outsider primitive music" tree. Curious? Sub Pop describes
■EMELYflKEK' music in this way: "the cave-man
wiugviMnoftrBT>«piB.1r»»>wienor6o6 + thj^«i
flietap fuzz and feedback of 'I Heard iter Call My Name"
by teVtMs* the visceral howls of the Seeds or
Sunken* MENAEL's own home-made amps, pedals,
and guaars + the twisted lyrics of Barrett or Erikson = a
hue psychedelic masterpiece." Indeed. In fact, Sub Pop
HrsHOUEL's music so much they put it out, saved
tan 1968-era obscurity. Could this be guilty feelings
alter releasing their fair share of '60s pop revivalist
records? Who can tell — and who really cares? What
we do know for sure is that this is pretty cool stuff,
ks Sub Pop, keep up the good work.
CD 16.98
Kg Brother is Watching 2CO
lames lavelle has friends (or is it enemies?) in high
Uptaces. As president of MoWax records, he's helped
tarn out some of the biggest beat platters of the 1990s.
Mfhars more, he brought us the tikes of DJ Shadow, DJ
Mk.lt, Octagon and David Axelrod. One would think
lathee time is at a premium for Mr. lavelle. Think
again! As tireless as he is stylish, lavelle still makes it a
haul to get out to the clubs and spin his set—and now
tanks to this ultra limited edition (and quasi-official)
MtfWax 2CD set, you can dig through his crates also.
^^MMftnJliMlR,iiliiml mil including DJ Shadow
and. yes, MOLE, bat also MIX, Queens of the Stone
Age. Mereary tar, Fame, Halo, Peace Division,
■atatead, Fleetwood Mae and more. It seems to have
some land of political message, too, something about
not fcusting government Go figure.
KMI nGCHDOM-Brtcbes Without Britches CD
TMEiAOCER-Melodies En Sous-Sol CD
PtSTALSERVrCE-The District Sleeps Alone
kaVMC-The Hfawts 12"/CDEP
IBM Muy to High Places Are Not Weil 2LP/CD
Karazma Reimagined
I sit possible? Is it necessary? A
resounding YES to both, friends.
Knowing that a good joke needs to be
told over and over and over before it
surpasses merely humorous and moves on to truth and then
becomes humorous all over again, CANNED HAMM's outrageous
Carolyn Mark and many equally talented others. But so much more
than a comedy-type record, Reimagined has an important life-
redeeming message to impart to us all: Love and treasure yourself
for who you are and always reach for the stars. Sniff...thanks guys.
You always say the right thing, even when you get others to say it
for you. Recommended.
From Tokyo to Naiagara CO
Oh man—this is one CD everyone should buy. NO REALLY, come
get it Imagine a Japanese Bjork except with half as much stuff
in the mix, more spare glitches and minimal beats and squawks and
fuzz and buzz and, yes, Japanese cool, real cool, and a bit Cat
Power sexy, too. If our opinion amounts to anything in the hallowed
(but tarnished) halls of the music biz (and of course it does, writ
large, although we don't want to toot-toot our ever-growing
Son), we'd make NORIKO TUJIKO a huge star, Madonna size. Of
course, there is no justice in the worid. We just can't count on the
MAN, so tamed by the "bottom line." Thus, it's up to the grassroots
to make a difference—and this means you and us! Your patronage
will send the necessary signal: make her a star, MAKE HER A STAR)
Broken Spirit,
Your Wings CD
I temple of electrified boogie rock. You've camped out and drugged up, meditating on the beauty of Oattoilver Messenger Service,
but the maiden of the cancer moon hasn't showed up
yet Magically, the first rays of the life-giving fireball
pierce through the miasma, just as the opening chords
of Canada's first bonafide body rock giants, SOFT
CANYON, begin their late summery litanies of psychotropic fuzz. Featuring members of Tricky Woo and
Local Rabbits, this 5 piece should please any fan currently digging the sweet leaf crop of Dead Meadow,
Add MoflnnTenata and TIk Warlocks—and it also
continues the trajectory of the final Tricky Woo opus Les
Sables MagkpeJ Sojftou are looking for a landing
spot in the current revivalist haze of '60s inspired psy-
chedelic pop, we've got the perfect SOFT CANYON you!
CD 16.98
low with six gloriously lush pop
^abt^ipnep^f^fj^prite sons (Tom
Jones is by now rnqnPof a father fig-
it of mellow ballads. The perfect record to take things down a notch without
lapsing into the turgid inertia of generic '60$ tinged Beadledom,
Phantom Power effortlessly shimmers with light touches of the so-
called mature instruments: pedal steel, pianos and acoustic guitars.
Standouts include "Golden Retriever," "Venus & Serena" and "Bleed
Forever," conjuring up a dark folk vibe perfect for opium den crawls
(or for safe domestic consumption, too). We recommend!
lata Presents... The Modern Troubadour!!
Enter to win tickets to
DESTROYER'S solo performance!
itapst 6tt at Richards on Richards
taps* 17th at Arts Club Theatre
CD 16.98
Check mis shit out. 24 fucked up and banging tracks of   . 8
TigerbeatS-style vocal numbers, featuring 80 long minutes worth
of The Rip Off Art* The Bag, DJ rupture, Coma, Owayne
Sodanberk, kM606, Max Tundra, Stars as Eyes. Numbers, Electric
Company, Crack, Kimehandchop, Cex, Total Stoitdowa,
Zeigenbock Kepf, Terminal 11, Original Hamster, Nathan Michel,
Nudge and Dwayne Sodanberk on one damn CO. Wow! Awesome!
Even Tigerbeat6 calls this the "definitive Tigerbeat6 release of 2003,"
and they'd know. Let*s face it, you cant get of enough of this stuff—
and we sure love to sett it to you! And did you notice the crazy low     CD/LP 19.98
price? Dude! Makes for a great gift.. .just not for your rieSejdjtoipite-
Germany and Spain are
basically like the same  I
country from the point of view of the average North
American record store clerk and customer. We just
cant tell. Its over THERE, right? Shrewdly, SENOR
COCONUT has capitalized on this curious shortcoming
of geographic know-how, producing Germanic-Spanish
electronic pop for some time, such as his you-must-
reinteroretatHwof jallBn||^ni Atonal. This
time, however, Senor Coconut and his robot orchestra
are taWngon the homeland, covering such North
American hits as "Smoke on the^later," "Riders gn the ■
Storm" and^es, "Beat it," phis afew originals for extra
measure. Good grief! So, forget that pirate captain rum
guy, SEntW COCONUT is the real one-man trans-global '
party maker!
Tmly She is None Other CD/LP
" ~ Ttfh a neat cameo on me most recent White Stripes
album, Elephant mayt»IUiy60U6l<TUrs time
for true fame has finally come. Way cooler than her
music biz newbie hosts, she's got the kind of deep coolness that Jack and Meg can only hope to achieve with
time (although props to them for the props to hMM^**
Maybe one important difference is that she seems so
genuinely real, even though like Billy Childish, her former svengali, her shtick is a bit record store kitsch: as
PitcMorkmediax»m describes it, GOUBHTUTs repertoire
consists of "Languid juke-joint blues, department-store
calico country, smoky old rhythm and blues and girl-
group rock'n'roll." But frankly, this is no problem.
GOUGHTLY makes it real and viable, as though it was
fresh Uke new. As the title says, Truly She is None Other,
or, in other words, a singular talent Indeed.
Perhaps it is inevitable that our indie darlings have started to produce music for films.
And not just as part of the soundtrack, like some Sundance-type film on the cheap.
We mean full-on Ennio Morricone action—the whole thing, from credits to credits. Like
what Belle and Sebastian (almost) did, or Stephen Merritt or Tindersticks or Folk
Implosion or Elliot Smith or Shudder to Think—you get the idea. Also, maybe this is
yet another illustration of the aging of the indie rock foundation, no longer fit for basement suite living. Nevertheless, it's high time some good music was made specifically for
films. Bring an end to those shallow and bogus soundtrack compilations that sit on store
shelves for years after the equally shallow and bogus films have bombed—you know
who you are! Check the difference quality makes.
Hell House Soundtrack
by Bubba and Matthew
The brothers Kadane, famous for the
amazing Bedhead and The New Year,
team up to score this captivating and disturbing documentary about fundamentalist
Christians in Texas going to rather graphic
ends to scare sin out of kids, or is it vice
versa? No matter what-r-and man those ■
crazy fuckers scare the shit out of us without alt the make up and sets—it's fun! And
the soundtrack is great too: suitably
spooky and Texas-like, if you follow. You
must own this, you SINNER!
CD 8.98
The Last Great
Wilderness CD
Making the soundtrack to a quirky
and sometimes beguiling Dogma-
style character piece about lost souls in
the Scottish highlands, The Pastels are- *
a great and natural choice, since they're j
of the quirky and sometimes beguiling
character, too, and they're Scottish. With
help from folks like John McEntire and
Jarvts Cocker, this largely instrumental
work stands very well without the film,
with nice and gentle stuff that sweetly
takes its time. Yet, W|c9n1help p%i
wonder when the next album's coming?
Finally a\
le Aug 12th!
iflpPfcW CD 14,98
I ike you, we at Zulu are prodigious readers. Music magazines, advice columns, cere-
Lai boxes, you name ft—we just cant stop reading. We love ill that's why we've
dipped into the literary scene (dipped our writing pen, get it?) and started to push the
reading along with toe listening. And lo! It's a natural fit Ifs like this: we understand
that your needs and dreams are very much like ours. Thus, by following our intuition,
we end up supporting everyone! Want to be as smart as this, check out these great *
books to read, 'cause reading is so good.
sunny and
the hootenanny
Book and jH|K
If only wecould all have diys like thjsfwaji up, call on |
jyojRtorifls;' matefflwsfendthen go to bed. Ah, the
good life. Sounds pretty good, eh? Well guess wha|ah$ir|
charming (and well-designed) kid's book about a little guy *•
named Sunny chronicles exactly this kind of perfect day: he gets up„vJs8shisBal5? ^
has a hootenanny and then goes home to sleep. You see! Man, Sumy's Wt&K0i
worked out! Helping make this fantasy become reality fw^Sunny and toe
' Itoototrjwny comes with a great CD compilation tuft of songs right for kids as much as
us older people, featuring music by Ban Destroyer, Lucy and Paul from Young and *.
Sexy, Pano, Veda Hille, The Secret Three, The Dept, Mfco Horfman and Cowbell
and the kids of BUI Hapier-Hemy s Fraser Academy music class. Sorry Rarft, but parents will love this as much as kids. And check out the equally charming kid's book
Windy, now also at Zulu—your friendly family record store (and you thought the
' Pong was ivjiJRt. *■
Book 9.98-
I Fan is the latest project from local indie publishers Smart Cookie, fhe people who brought you Mil
Brown's Saugus to the Sea—a superb first novel illustrated
by Stay at You Am creator Brad Yung. This latest project is an
anthology of essays, fiction, artwork and more, all meditating
on the phenomenon of fandom.tt includes contributions from ■
Kevin Sampsell, Jim Munroe, Cassandra Claire and Doretta Lau, as well as across-
stitched portrait of James Spader and a reprinting of the nerdiest thing on the Internet
Over 100 pages of text and illustrations in a deluxe handmade har|fc|yfer volume -no
two the same! See below left for book launch details.
%ULU MV^tpfENItip*
■EW FORMS AT ZULU Some of the artiste visiting this year's New Forms Festival stop by for a live I
ZULU GALLERY DRAWING SHOW: Eli Bomowsky: "Color costs too much awl why record store c
JBjpE FAM BOOK LAUNCH feat\ul^mmtt^^Wliki^M^^K1 new hart
ry plus fandom-related live music. FRIDAY AUGUST 15TH, 6PM.
Zulu Records
1972-1976 W 4th Ave
Vancouver, BC
tel 604.738.3232
Mon to Wed   10:30-7:00


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