Discorder CITR-FM (Radio station : Vancouver, B.C.) 2007-02-01

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 U jcwjS D®
7ftqf natchless magazine from CITR 101.9 FM JjjLlirlsJ^
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FEBRUARY 16 Vancouver east
March 27
H|P| ■ Richard's on
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2 for I tickets |
PURCHASE TICKETS SQ80QS AT hob.ca-OR ticketmaster.es 604-280-4444 ((<xm>)) O W8co*$@»t
David Ravensbergen
Art Director
Will Brown
Production Manager
Alanna Scott
Ad Manager
Catherine Rana
RLA Editor
Danny McCash
Datebook Editor
Alanna Scott
Review Manager
Jordie Sparkle
Layout & Design
Will Brown
Alanna Scott
Production Team
Will Brown
Marlo Carpenter
David Fernig
Ben Johnstone
Stuart Mitchell
Charlotte Nobles
Catherine Rana
David Ravensbergen
Alanna Scott
Graeme Worthy
Photo & Illustration
John Baca
Matt Booth
Mono Bijpws
Melanie Coles
Bev Davies    ■
Ken Eisner ;
Ben Frey
Anthqny James
Leigh Righton
Alanna Scott
Brock Thiessen
Program Guide
Bryce Dunn
Luke Meat
Dave, Graeme & Alanna
US Distribution
Catherine Rana
CITR Station Manager
Lydia Masemola
The Gentle Art of Editing
Cinema Aspirant
Allan Maclnnis
Graeme Worthy
Spectres of Discord
David Ravensbergen
Textually Active
Mother Mother
Melanie Coles ■
Under Review
Real Live Action
CiTR Charts
The Dopest Hits of January 2007
Program Guide
Mixed Apes Radio
Collapsing Opposites
Binaries dissolve when faced with the sheer
beauty of Ryan McCormick's sweaters. Mr 10
Victoria, Victoria! &
Pyramid Power
with the Queen's pip pip! Mr 13
Phil Elverum & Sun
If you don't like cigarettes or the internet, you'll
love the Microphones' new album.  MT 23
The Furies &D.0.A.
Together Again
Not too old to chase pigeons, not quite old
enough to feed them.  26 "•"
Hella Messiahs
These "Beardy Fellas" will be the first raptured.
Regardless of who's coming back. MT 28
Cover Photography
by Matt Booth
© DiSCORDER 200 7 by the Student Radio Society of the University of British Columbia. All rights reserved.
Circulation 8,000. Subscriptions, payable in advance, to Canadian residents are $ 15 for one year, to residents
of the USA are $15 US; $24 CDN elsewhere. Single copies are $2 (to cover postage). Please make cheques
or money orders payable to DiSCORDER Magazine. DEADLINES: Copy deadline for the March issue issue is
February 19th Ad space is available until February 22nd and can be booked by calling 604.822.3017 ext
3 or emailing discorder.advertising@gmaiI.com. Our rates are available upon request. DiSCORDER is not
responsible for loss, damage, or any other injury to unsolicited manuscripts, unsolicited artwork (including
but not limited to drawings, photographs, and transparencies), or any other unsolicited material. Material
can be submitted on disc or in type or via email. As always, English is preferred, but we will accept French.
Actually, we won't. Send words to discordered@gmail.com and art to discorderart@gmail.com. From
UBC to Langley and Squamish to Bellingham, CiTR can be heard at 101.9 FM as well as through all major
cable systems in the Lower Mainland, except Shaw in White Rock. Call the CiTR DJ line at 822.2487, our
office at 822.3017, or our news and sports lines at 822.3017 ext. 2. Fax us at 822.9364, e-mail us at:
citrmgr@mail.ams.ubc.ca, visit our web site at www.citr.ca or just pick up a goddamn pen and write #233-
6138 SUB Blvd., Vancouver, BC, V6T 1Z1, CANADA.
the Gentle Art of Editing
What does 2007 have in store for independent
music? For starters, there's the usual
slew of anticipated albums from the litces of the
Shins, Arcade Fire, Cat Power, Apples in Stereo,
LCD Soundsystem, Air, and a host of other indie
stalwarts. Even Scarlett Johansson, best known for
her ability to look foxy in the midst of an existential
crisis (at least compared to Bill Murray), plans to
release an album of Tom Waits covers this spring.
But that's not the most exciting news.
At a recent music industry conference in
Cannes, a group of indie labels-—including some of
the big guns, like Epitaph, Beggars Group, Rough
Trade and Ministry of Sound—signed a deal with
Merlin, a Netherlands-based company that aims
to make independent distribution competitive
with the four major labels. While this may sound
like one of the hated mergers that brought us
evil behemoths like Time-Warner, it's actually a
far more benign alliance. Under the terms of the
agreement. Merlin will act as an intermediary
between labels and digital music services like
iTunes and Napster. They'-,e already struck a deal
with SNOCAP, meaning that albums by the Fiery
Furnaces and the Hidden Cameras will be up for
sale on Myspace sometime this year. That's right:
the world's ugliest website is entering the world of
online music sales.
While I'm all for good bands getting a fair shot
at reaching larger audiences, I can't help but feel a
little uncertain. When Modest Mouse songs are the
soundtrack to car commercials, what exactly does
'indie' mean? The word has lost its connection to a
DIY aesthetic, and it can't really be said to pertain
to 'underground' music anymore. If anything,
'indie' is halfway to a pejorative, eliciting thoughts
of hackneyed guitar tones and calculated ennui.
Like 'alternative' before it, 'indie' has become an
empty signif ier. I say good riddance.
When indie labels form a conglomerate that
enables them to compete with the Big Four, they
cease to really be independent. With democratized
music distribution, the old dichotomy of indie
versus mainstream no longer applies. What we
need now is a new binary—something like ethical/
malevolent. If the Merlin labels treat their artists
fairly, keep their music DRM-free, champion
reasonable CD prices and avoid prosecuting .
downloaders, they will earn the distinction of being
ethical, or 'ethie', if you will. If Merlin succumbs
to the temptations of power, and begins arresting
music fans in retribution for flagging sales like
our good friends in the RIAA, they will be labelled
malevolent. Or, if you prefer, mal. Of course genres
like indie rock will still exist, but the possibilities
for hybridization will increase: mal-indie, ethie
metal, and so on.
As for Discorder, 2007 looks to be full of both
promise and uncertainty. Penelope's longstanding
column "Strut, Fret and Flicker" is on sabbatical,
and "Riff Raff' had to take the month off. Jordie, our
CD review coordinator, just accepted an internship
in Ethiopia, and we've been left with a mountain of
albums in need of a leader. And our core staff, the
triple threat of editor, art director and production
manager, plans to surrender the reigns of power in
the coming months. In the meantime, though, the
magazine has never looked better. The extra space
in this month's issue has paved the way for a more
luxurious layout, and we hope that you'll savour
each page. Aside from missing a deadline here
and there, our contributors continue to work the
music journalism beat with aplomb. And Gavin
Walker still types up the Jazz Show listings on his
typewriter each month, faithfully pinning them to
our door a week before they're due.
David Ravensbergen, Editor
Discorder is looking for a fine set
of combs and shaving tools.
What we re trying to say is, a lot of us are going to be leaving
soon, shaving beards and combing hair to get real jobs and
pursue post-graduate endeavours. If you're interested, the
following postions are and will be available soon:
Distribution Representative — Now
Production Manager — Now
Art Director — March 2007
Editor — April 2007
Only the finest combs and the sharpest
razors will be considered!
discorder.ca eiREMffASPlRANT
Allan Maclnnis
Shocking as it may be to me,
some people out there may never
have actually seen John Boorman's
1972 classic, Deliverance. It's a
damn fine thriller. If you bring just
a smidgen of film theory to it, it
also ends up also seeming' like a
masterpiece of homophobia, or
perhaps an extremely troubling exercise in dassism. It gives you a lot
to chew on, either way.
The story goes Uke this: four
men go on a canoe trip in the
backwoods American south. The
boys bring their bows and arrows for a little hunting. One of
them—Lewis, played by a swaggering Burt Reynolds—goes on about
confronting nature; if survivalists
had beefcake calendars, he'd be
July. The more middle-class and
insufficiently repressed Ed (Jon
Voight) is clearly attracted to
his friend's rugged masculinity,
though the homoeroticism is more
clear in James Dickey's novel, there
is a scene early in the film—you
have to be attentive or you'll miss
it—where a drunken Ed gazes at Ms
friend with love, desire, and perhaps a bit of envy. Ed is nowhere
equal to Lewis' manhood; he can't
even shoot his arrow (get it?) at a
deer he encounters. Still, Ed is nowhere near as "soft" and city-fied
as Bobby (Ned Beatty), the third
member of the group (spoilers follow). When Bobby and Ed stop to
take a breather on the riverbank
and let their friends catch up,
they're, caught by surprise by two hillbillies with a taste for fat wealthy white men, and Bobby is brutally raped,
in the infamous "squeal like a pig" scene, while Ed is forced to watch. At this point, 'twang* goes Lewis' bow, and
one of the hillbillies is penetrated even more dramatically than Bobby. Our protagonists take a vote on what to do,
bury the corpse, swear to never again mention what happened, and get back in their canoes to flee.
Carol J. Clover, in her excellent study, Men, Women and Chainsaws: Gender in fhe Modern Horror Film, reads
films of this sort—The Hills Have Eyes, Rituals, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Pumpkinhead, Hunter's Blood, Calvaire,
Turistas—as being primarily tales of class resentment, skewed along urban/rural lines. In such films, a group of
city folk travel to the country, where they're confronted with the inequalities of the class system they participate
in, often in the form of mutated, ridiculous, or deranged poor people. There's usually a character among our onscreen representatives who has some degree of compassion, through whose eyes we witness just how obnoxious
our class privilege makes us look. This character will undergo an interesting tr_osformation in the film, as the
poor begin to turn on the rich: he or she will end up justifiably killing all the poor responsible for what Clover
calls this "guilt-inducing difference," re-establishing the unjust social order with a vengeance. Films of this sort
invoke class guilt, give us the opportunity to suffer a bit to atone for it, and then defiantly reassure us that our
very survival hinges on overcoming it as decisively as possible. Kill the poorl It's an interesting theory, but there's
more to Deliverance than that.
The traumas of Deliverance mark Ed's rite of passage into being a true man. In order to get there, he must learn
to master his arrow and replace Lewis as leader; for'this to work, any trace of homosexuality has to be scared
out of him (just like in your average high school, though a tad more dramatically). The horrifying rape, whjch
serves as the climax to the sexual tension between Ed and Lewis in the first half of the film, certainly makes for
bad PR for going gay; it's as revolting a vision of homosexual sex as can be found on film (though Gaspar Noe's
Irreversible comes close). What better metaphor for repression than killing one of the evil sodomites and burying
him? The film even encourages us to lose respect for Bobby, who is depicted after the rape as snivelling, weak,
and emasculated.
In fact, homophobia of this kind is the norm in thrillers; consider Hitchcock's North by Northwest, where
the weak and slightly effeminate Cary Grant, dominated by his mother and thus, we are to assume, at risk of
becoming gay himself, has to defeat two homosexual characters (Martin Landau and James Mason) in order to
win the girl. Or take Hitch's earlier Strangers on a Train (based on a book by Patricia Highsmith, author of The
Talented Mr. Ripley): two men meet, one of whom is obviously gay. They
flirt, and there is the suggestion that the straight one is at least curious.
Predictably, this sets him up for a world of trouble, which can only be
resolved by the queer character being killed (but he's evil anyways, of
course. He would have to be: he's gay).
Deliverance is well worth seeing, in part for the psychology it lays
bare. But readers seeking a very entertaining corrective for cinematic
homophobia are advised to instead seek out Gregg Araki's The Doom
Generation, my favourite of Araki's films, though all of them bear looking at. Despised by many—but, I am happy to see, championed by queer
Canadian critic Robin Wood—this film carefully manipulates its audience, raising the homoerotic attraction between the male characters to a
nearly feverish tension until—
Well, wait, let's not spoil it. Suffice it to say that rather than subtly
justifying homophobia, the film presents it in the most unpleasant light
possible: harsh and glaring. Make sure you're watching an unrated cut
of the film, so as not to be spared the full effect. Like Deliverance and
Irreversible, it is definitely not for the squeamish. S
RIAA Sees Your Grillz
by Graeme Worthy
So, I think this is big news. In Atlanta, GA on January 16th, DJ Drama,
Don Cannon, and 17 others were arrested for racketeering—that is, being
members of a criminal organization. A group of record producers, Drama
and co. are responsible for a series of MC mixtapes called Gangsta Grillz.
Mixtapes are the lifeblood of hip-hop, representing up-and-coming rappers, and keeping established rappers on the scene between major-label
releases. They've existed in a quasi-legal state for years, but with this latest
crackdown their fate is now in question. The copyfighf s favourite super-
villain, the RIAA, participated in the raid, and is now taking flack from all
sides. People are up in arms. The southern hip-hop scene is angry, alleging
conspiracy. Why did this happen? Had the record industry taken aim at
mixtapes, blaming them for flagging record sales? I'm gonna say there was
no conspiracy — after bathing in the streams of internet, I've formed an
opinion, and now I'm gonna shove it down your throat.
So here's how I see it.
Sometime in 2006, the police station in Morrow, GA, population
4,882, gets a visit from a coordinator for a joint task force on piracy. An
impressive-looking man from the big city brings out an impressive-looking PowerPoint and shows on a big graph how many millions of dollars
are being lost every year to pirates. This blue suit and matching laminated
name-tag tells the local policemen how much it would be appreciated if
they were a member of this impressive-sounding 'joint task force.'
Suckers eat it up.
Weeks pass. Then in October of 2006, the small town gets its first bust.
These quotes are from a Billboard.com interview. "Our first raid also happened in Atlanta on Metropolitan Parkway on Oct. 11, 2006," says Chief
James Baker of the Morrow Police Department. "It was run by a bunch of
immigrants, the majority here illegally, from West Africa. We seized over
$14 million of counterfeit CDs, five vehicles, cocaine and marijuana."
High off the back-slaps and engraved Lexan trophies from the RIAA a«H(tfM___-i_tft_i__i>
__ by David Ravensbergen
New Year's Eve seems so far away already, lost in the haze of obligations and regrets that quickly accumulate
as January marches on. I can barely even remember the details of my night, although something about a kegger
in Surrey comes to mind. Midnight's promise of renewal, which makes the first days of January seem like a new
playing field where anything is possible, always fades so fast, leaving you saddled with last year's problems. But
with Discorder, I get a second chance at a fresh start Like the Chinese, Discorder insists on setting its own date
for the New Year—the first of February, when the year's lead-off issue hits the streets.
Glancing at the cover of the first issue of the new millennium, I have to wonder how strongly y2k fever took
hold around CiTR. I get the feeling they really believed the world was going to end in some mysterious cataclysm,
as bank computers and databases the world over announced the return of the year 1900. When everything carried
on as usual, the staff eventually had to face the realization that the magazine would in fact continue to exist in
the twenty-first century. While they managed to assemble some decent content, including an interview with Yo
La Tengo bassist James McNew, the cover looks like a millennial oversight Largely composed of negative space,
the bottom-right corner features a hastily-drawn illustration of a man with half a face, drinking from a translucent cup. Are his facial features being sucked away by this nefarious glass? Or is the liquid contained within
causing him to sprout a giant black mane? These are questions for magazine archivists more skilled than I.
A few pages further into February 2000, we find the controversial "Happiness" column by Miyu. By all indications, she made a quick trip to teenangstpoetry.com when the world refused to end, selected an appropriately
dismal forecast for the year to come, and voilal We have a bleak little gem sure to pass the discontent filters at
When it struck midnight, you stood up and looked around for sqmeone to hold, but everyone else was busy with each
other, so you held a cigarette and a piece of cake instead, resolutions already broken, and there you stood until she
remembered you and took her arms and wrapped her sympathy around your awkwardness, and then she pulled away
to look at your face, you smiled, and you didn't think you were lying at the time you declared it to her, but you know
now that this New Year isn't going to be so Happy.
Skipping ahead two years to Feburary 2002, we find the staff |n a decidedly more combative mood. They
clearly knew the end of the world wasn't going to be as simple as a few computers getting the date wrong, and
they were pissed off about it. Shindig winners Three Inches of Blood look ready to kill on the cover, screaming
their disapproval at the post-9/11 world. There's no sign of the gentle depression of "Happiness"—only a letter
from a plaintive reader looking for her monthly dose of dismay. The response:
We don't really know what happened to that column. It ended when Miyu stopped writing it. She "realized that it
was really bad."—Ed.
In the reactionary climate of 2002, there was no place for "Happiness". After the the ascension of George W.
and the attacks on the World Trade Center, Discorder writers were able to locate the tumultuous realm of global
politics as the focus of their disapproval. In Doretta's "Over My Shoulder" column, the vitriol starts off strong,
condemning the WTC attacks and Gordon Campbell's anti-poor policies alike. But midway through, she begins
to frame her politics as some kind of cosmic battle (conspicuously like her arch-nemesis, the Commander-in-
Chief), and the immediacy of her critique is lost.
or a Warm Gun?
regressed to thinking about the issues in abstract terms: good vi
vers or constructive plans to put into action...
is wrong. I don't have any
________   ShS^^^S
february 12002 ■
J*                 ^
It's the last phrase there that's
particularly distressing. We Uve
in an age when the hypocrisy of
American foreign policy is met with
near-global disapproval, yet opposition to the war in Iraq remains
largely verbal. Environmental degradation, a fringe, lunatic concern
back when Rachel Carson wrote
Silent Spring, is now in the headlines .on a daily basis. But complacency rules the day, and we (myself
included) still don't have any constructive plans to put into action. A
few pages over, Vancouver shoegazers Readymade summarize our current state of affairs, and make me
feel like a dick in the process.
We're passing through epochs on
an almost daily basis right now,
not that anyone is really noticing...this is as interesting a socio-political environment as we've
ever seen. It might seem quiet,
but things are stirring. Take just
a handful of these globalization
protestors, get them to shave their
beards, and put down the bong
for a few minutes, get a commerce
degree, exploit technology to organize across borders and I think
some real interesting tilings will
2007 is shaping up to be a great
year to revitalize democracy, folks—
I just don't want to be the'one to
that say "Keep up the good work, you're part of the team," the locals
stumble across their next big bust — bootleg mixtapes, which are like
candy to the mouth-breathing boys in blue. They're stamped all over with
"promotional use only, riot for resale," which is just the sort of thing the
man with the PowerPoint said to look out for. While the aura of "underground" plays well with hip-hop audiences, the cops aren't used to this
kind of marketing. They take "iUegal" at its face value. And now the new
members of the "League of Junior Copyright Defenders" call the main
clubhouse, and the trap is set.
Except this bootleg ring isn't a two-bit CD piracy organization run by
a bunch of "immigrants from west Africa" dubbing copies of last season's
' 24, complete with colour photocopy covers. These are MC mixtapes: handcrafted, small-run MC mixes, a tight coterie of up-and-coming MCs documenting the fast-moving world of southern hip-hop. Rappers flow over
the tracks of contemporary masters, commenting and layering, mixing
it up and showing off their skuls in the studio version of live rap-battles.
It's a lively scene, and DJ Drama was making a name for himself he'd just
signed a deal with Atlantic to take his Gangsta Grillz series and make a
n album, where all the copyrights would be nailed down, all the
samples cleared and aU the expensive lawyers happy.
Some have alleged that this was. a conspiracy to shut down the mix-
tape scene, but from where I'm sitting, half a continent away in a messy
bedroom, it's apparent to me that this wasn't the intent of the raid. It was
-stupidity: the RIAA's talking head at the scene, Matthew Kilgo, told the
ignorant and head-bobbing FOX reporters that, "Statistics show you can
make up to 900% profit just on tite Sesater-f _a__terfeit CDs." It's clear
they had-no idea that this was a productive working studio, they thought
they were just dubbing someone else's music for resale. -
But these mixtapes are part of what keeps contemporary music lively .
— they launched the careers of modern heavyweights 50 Cent and Lil'
Wayne. They're the porches and dancehalls of today, places where new
music is generated, new stars are recognised, or so I hear. I've never been
to Atlanta, and the southern hip-hop I know comes from a movie about
singing hookers.
Now, 30 SWAT team members with loaded guns handcuff artists in
a recording studio. Did you know that the RIAA has their own jackets?
Like the ATF, they say "Anti-Piracy Unit" across the top and have a big
RIAA on the back. These dudes are not fucking around. But they're trying
to resuscitate a dead fish by having troops stomp on its heart with jackboots. Nobody is buying their CDs, their distribution model is faltering,
and somehow the RIAA keeps ticking, desperate to find out where the
customers have gone.
I'm an optimist, but maybe this presents an opportunity. Even if what
Cannon and Drama were doing was illegal under contemporary American
copyright law~ they were making music, the real stuff that people listen
to. They were doing so on the edges of the law, and they were making
money at it. This is something the RIAA seems only able to do by suing
its customers.
So let's say that our friends at the RIAA decide their lawyers are going
to roast these dudes over hot coals. Let's say that they don't relent. If the
dogs-in-suits don't let go, maybe there's something here to look forward
to, if Drama and crew can get their asses together to get-off this beef.
It could mean a legal recognition of their art. Or, maybe some innocent
dudes are gonna go to jail for "crimes" that shouldn't be Crimes.   Q
The Upside of Down: Catastrophe,
Creativity, and the Renewal of
by Thomtts Homer-Dbcon
Knopf Canada, 2006
There are ideas that buzz around in the pubUc consciousness without being clearly articulated. Since 2000 a sense of millennial unease has lingered, and various signs and signals
point to a world that despite continued economic growth and optimistic predictions from
investors, seems to be getting worse. Everyone knows about the various problems we face—climate change, environmental degradation, failing economies and gaps growing between rich
and poor, energy scarcity, and population growth. Each of these problems is serious enough
on its own, but even as we think about them one at a time, the sense that they're combining
and spiraling out of control is overwhelming at times.
The Upside of Down addresses each of these five issues, which Thomas
Homer-Dixon calls "tectonic stresses" on our societies, tensions that are
building under the surface that have the potential to seriously disrupt societies around the world. Each individual stress receives a detailed analysis
filled with analogies that are both apt and powerful in their simplicity.
What truly makes this analysis special, however, is the way that Homer-
Dixon explains the ways that complex interactions between these stresses
increases the chance of what he calls a "synchronous failure," a series of
smaller disasters that feed into one another and lead to a global coUapse.
Compounding these interacting, tectonic stresses are things he calls
"multipliers" and "thresholds". Multipliers make failures emerging from
these stresses more likely and more disastrous when they do happen. A
threshold is, in effect the 'straw that breaks the camel's back.' A particular
course of action may seem fine, but in effect it is building up stress that
releases all at once in a dramatic event.
Homer-Dixon lists two multipliers that are of particular importance. The first is speed and
connectivity. Referring to the globalized world as a "single operational unit," he suggests that
for better or worse, everything we do is felt around the world. A power plant failure in Ohio
led to a blackout across much of eastern North America in 2003. An earthquake in Taiwan
s than originaUy
means immediate microchip shortages around the world. While less serioi
feared, SARS illustrated how quickly disease can spread around the world.
The second key multiplier is the increasing ability of small groups of
people to cause incredible amounts of damage. A nuclear attack on a major
city could be planned and executed by a handful of fanatics. A disgruntled
grad student could engineer an unstoppable virus. These attacks would be
especially devastating while attempting to deal with other global problems.
Homer-Dixon has successfully brought these ideas together to show not
Just the incredible danger our societies are in and the very real danger of a
"synchronous failure'*, but also the light at the end of the tunnel should we
manage to avoid a complete coUapse. Even the biggest individual disasters
offer the opportunity for rebuilding in a way that is both free of the constraints of earlier systems and more resilient to future breakdown.
The Up Side of Down manages to take the general feelings of unease
from the public consciousness and turns them into a coherent whole. The
complexities of the problems addressed and the clarity with which Homer-
Dixon illustrates them make this book a seminal volume for both risk management and
activism alike. This book is absolutely essential reading for those concerned with the direction
of the world and for those who hope to change it for the better.
Greg McMuUen
The Possibility of an Island
by Michel Houellebecq
Knopf, 2006
If the content of his novels is any indication, Michel HoueUebecq is constitutionaUy incapable of experiencing happiness, and he wants us to beUeve that we're miserable too. Building
on The Elementary Particles' resounding denunciation of Western civilization, The Possibility
of an Island reads Uke a tortured eulogy for an already-dead planet, a "dull place, devoid of
potentialities, from which light was absent." In response to the novel's opening Une, "Who, '
among you, deserves eternal life?" I can say with conviction that this misanthropic French
author does not.
It's not that I don't Uke this book—in fact, I love it. The problem is that, in order for me to
appreciate HouUebecq's work, I have to maintain critical distance. His writing is so seductive,
so convincing in its abject portrayal of human existence, that to be swept up in his narratives
is to court suicide. The unsuspecting reader would do weU to heed the warning of Kilgore Trout
in Breakfast of Champions, that bad ideas can have potentially disastrous health consequences.
Another option would be to maintain a sense of perspective, and bear in mind that blowjobs
need not be the ultimate measure of happiness.
Much Uke The Elementary Particles' Bruno, Houellebecq's latest protagonist is an unrepentant hedonist, on an endless quest for women amenable to penetration. Where Bruno was a damaged soul, shunned by men and women alike,
Daniel is a critically acclaimed and well-liked comedian, with ready access
to the "pussy" that he requires. Yet Daniel's aging body proves incompatible
with his insatiable sexual desires, and it's hard to remain unsympathetic
as he becomes increasingly frantic at the prospect of his own physical decline. But the shocking misogyny on display in sentences Uke, "The dream
of all men is to meet Uttle sluts who are innocent but ready for all forms of
depravity—which is what, more or less, all teenage girls are," prevents any'
unreserved identification with fhe lead character, or, for that matter, the
novel on the whole.
Yet the trouble with critiquing The PossibiKty of an Island's chauvinist
sexuality or bleak misanthropy Ues with HouUebecq's masterful use of irony,
self-deprecation and deUberate Uberal-baiting. The novel is aware of its own
transgressions, and disclaimers and safety valves are built into the text. For
example, the story of Daniel's life is actuaUy his autobiography, written in
order for his personality to be passed down through successive generations of Daniel-clones.
In between chapters, we are treated to the commentary of Daniel24 and, once his body expires, Daniel25, both neohumans Uving in complete isolation a millennium after the events
of the story. Upon reading a particularly pathetic description of his progenitor's romantic
despair, Daniel25 notes, "The incredible importance accorded to sexual
matters among humans has always plunged their neohuman commentators into horrified amazement." The two interwoven narratives compUcate
Houellebecq's authorial stance, partially absolving him of responsibility for
his genital fixation.
The same ironic distance is on display in the author's depiction of
Daniel's career. Mirroring his own project as humanity's Grand Inquisitor,
Houllebecq describes Daniel's comedic work as pornographic reflections of
human violence and hypocrisy. In his cinematic indictment of the Israel-
Palestine conflict, Munch On My Gaza Strip (My Huge Jewish Settler), Daniel,
Uke Houellebecq, simply represents the madness of war and nationalism,
stripped of the justifications of government and the media. In the book as
in our world, both character and creator alike refuse the label of "humanist" appUed by journalists. Rather than betray any longing for a renewed
humanity, Houellebecq's black arts advocate an honest understanding of
oblivion. Reflecting on his career as a comedian, Daniel explains, "To sum
up, Uke all downs since the dawn of time, I was a sort of collaborator. I spared the world from
painful and useless revolutions—since the root of all evU was biological, and independent
of any imaginable social transformation; I established clarity, I forbade action, I eradicated
Daniel's vision of complete stasis is fuUy realized in his clones. In contrast to the frenzied myopia of Daniel's life story, the neohuman commentators observe from afar, rationally
extrapolating the consequences of human behaviour. Having realized that the biological and
metaphysical conditions of individuality are the cause of insurmountable anguish, the neohumans Uve in an affectless, isolated state, cultivating a Zen-like detachment from desire. As
Daniel explains, the last generations of human civilization reached a consensus on the cruelty of mortality, and rather than come to terms wit! a brief existence, the world placed its hope ii
a transhumanist immortality, and the unmitigated pursuit of eternal pleasure. Yet Daniel's descendants can hardly be said to experience pleasure—at
best they feel a nostalgia for pleasure, at worst a slight sensation of sadness.
The neohumans pass their lives aimlessly, living in the vague hope of the
coming of the Future Ones, beings that will efface the pain of individuality
through some kind .of coUective form of existence.
While these passages may sound sterile, they act as the fulcrum for the
novel's moral vision. Houellebecq has already articulated his hypersexual
critique of Western culture with greater success in his previous novels; by
now we know that individualist, consumer society acts to "increase desires
to an unbearable level while making the fulfillment of them more and more
inaccessible." What is truly interesting about this novel is Daniel's sublimated awareness, buried beneath a novel's worth of caustic observation and
sexual obsession, that the only possibility of happiness lies in unconditional
love. Shortly before killing himself, Daniel observes, "There is no love in individual freedom,
in independence, that's quite simply a Ue, and one of the crudest Ues you can imagine; love
is only in the desire for annihilation, fusion, the disappearance of the individual." Without
recognizing the need for love, the neohuman project is doomed from the start. In our failure
to transcend individual selfishness, we—Houellebecq, Daniel, all of us—are undeserving of
eternal Ufe. The possibility of an island exists, but we have yet to realize it
David Ravensbergen
The History of Love
by Nicole Krauss
W.W. Norton, 2006 o£3
My lover judges the value of a film in hindsight The extent to which the moving images
are replayed in his mind determines his final opinion about the story told. So, seemingly good
films can be rendered unimportant and bad films can end up being terribly relevant. On this
consideration, Nicole Krauss' The History of Love is a wonderfully effective
piece of literature.
Less than one week after receiving the novel as a Christmas gift, a dear
friend had read it cover to cover (complete with fevered scribbling) and then
passed it along to me. A few short days later when I was finished, I found
myself at a library researching the authenticity of Krauss' plethora of inter-
textual references. Since, my friend and I have shared many conversations
over the novel and both have reread the story. My own library has grown
by Bruno Shultz' Street of Crocodiles and Cynthia Ozick's The Messiah of
Stockholm. I have even whispered the words of Krauss to my lover, a tangible
example of how worthwhUe and beautiful I feel The History of Love to be.
This is a story about the ways we see, about the subtleties of difference
between illusion and creativity. Told through myriad voices, every single
one of them a writer, the common currency is the transformative power
of words.
The History of Love is itself the central book in Krauss' novel of the same name. The book
within a book pays homage to all women ever loved through the guise of a girl named Alma.
After the author is separated from his Alma, the only woman he has ever loved, the mystery
of her existence goes on to prompt a search that challenges the exclusivity of fate and chance.
Chance takes the form of a fleeting encounter at the beginning of Krauss' novel, and that
encounter then goes on to fatefully tie her two major narrative voices together? That Leopold
Gursky, an 80-year-old man, arid Alma Singer, a 14-year-old girl named after the heroine of
the fictional history, have anything in common is a subUme stroke of twisted plots. Krauss,
however, achieves a complex narrative without any superfluous detail. This results in foreshadowing that is nearly too neat; only reading this book for a second time will reveal just how
intricately their stories are woven.
It is not, however, always easy to see what Krauss has orchestrated for the reader, even
with, or because of, the privileged wisdom of backward glances. The tender of reality is not
the same as the tender of imagination. Yet, when one is accepted as the
other, dead men can rise to walk among the Uving. Here, the stories we tell
ourselves are indeed more important than what the world would suggest
we believe. Krauss' characters do not see the world as their own creation,
although they sometimes acknowledge it as such, and this naivete is Krauss'
most fascinating trick. Alma and Leo eagerly accept the validity of their respective imaginations without any hint at charade. They see in the singular
world the potential it has to be an infinity of experiences and explanations.
For them, the world is aUowed to be fantastical. The sum of reaUty is greater
than brute facts. The world is ours to let loose upon creatively, drawing
together the disparate bits of matter that are, therefore, never dead.
c. turions
by Neil Kleid and Jake Allen
ComicsLit, 2006
Taking in all of the details of Brownsville is-alternately chilling, upsetting, and pleasurable.
This is a graphic novel set in the thirties, packaged as "true crime," and happily a copy arrived
at the library just in time to write this review. Although it draws on non-fictional sources in it-
portrayal of the infamous Brooklyn Murder Inc. gang, the book is a great and engaging work
of fiction, and provides a world in which to'immerse the imagination that rivals the real one.
Allie Tannenbaum, the book's main character, falls prey to the attractive offer of an older man
to enter into illegal activities, initially as a strike breaker in the 1930s. Although the initial
actions play out innocently and without much consequence, things gradually escalate into
violence, and the recurring theme of Allie's relationships as an estranged son and uninvolved
husband takes a toll both psychological and emotional, I Uke the black and white graphics,
simple and effectively boxed, which easily convey the story. The graphics, sectioned into episodes, serve the storyline, but also put me in the mood of the scenes in which Brownsville's
action takes place: in busy diners, post-Depression street comers, hotels in
n stall.
Brownsville can be read as a life lesson, to avoid the aUure of unthinkingly rejecting society's conventions in favour of easy answers and the
friendship of a powerful group. Family relationships and the ways that
violence is implicated in business interests are both pretty relevant themes
to this day. I could sympathize with Allie's choices, and felt gripped by the
chain of necessity that led to each character's decisions. The small talk
between two mobsters as they dispose of a dead man felt oddly normal, just
like a couple of employees hashing things out near the end of shift It's the
juxtaposition of deadly action and believable characters that really holds
this book together.
Arthur Krumins
Popeye Vol. 1: "I Yam What I Yam"
by E.C. Segar
Fantagraphics, 2007
Art Out Of Time: Unknown Comics
Visionaries 1900-1969
edited by Dan Nadel
Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 2006
Two thousand and six was a profoundly great year in comics for initiates and novices alike,
and let's hope, as our eyes gaze heavenward, that this is a signifier of what's to come in 2007 I and beyond. You needn't be bound and shackled by the mires of comic geekdom to appreciate these fine objets d'art. Proof of this pudding
can be found in Popeye Vol. 1: "I Yam What I Yam" by E.C. Segar.
What many of us know of Popeye is a mere bastardization faded through Xerox visions.
The original Popeye was crusty and, at first, only incidental. When E.C. Segar began his
Thimble Theatre newspaper strip in 1919 it was Uttle more than a comic take on adventure
serials, damsel-in-distress kinda stuff. Eventually genre parody gave way to propeUed flights
of whimsy, stereotypes dissolved as Segar developed true characters and archetypes to propel
these continuing misadventures, such as Olive Oyl and her brother Castor Oyl. Popeye made
his first appearance one day back in 1929, only to disappear back into the ether after a few
months. He wasn't gone for long. Readers wrote in, demanding Popeye's return—a spark was
struck, something had stuck, a comic anti-hero that caught permanent fancy in the pubUc's
twinkling craw.
The strip was briUiant and Popeye just fit. Thimble Theatre was like ergot-laced barnacles,
comedic interaction with a beating bandaged heart, featuring fantastic characters Uke the
wish-granting Whiffle Hen and the eerily,menacing Sea Hag. Most importantly, Thimble
Theatre was funny.
By the time of Segar*s death in 1938, Fleischer Studios had already produced a few very
impressive Popeye cartoons in their own right, where fleeting moments from the original strip
(spinach, Brutus nee Bluto) became permanent mainstays. Outside of the creator's vision,
these tropes nonetheless landed on the screen and other merchandising-friendly elements of
popular culture.
With this new volume from Fantagraphics, gregariously steel yourself for the real Popeye,
the original ancient scrolls that stem from just before bis first appearance and continue onwards chronologically. Here Popeye defies the conventions that were later to be thrust upon
him by the non-Segars, the lesser lights. This big bound collection is a pure antidote for
depression, especially if one veers towards surliness or cynicism, though wide-eyed naives can
easily enjoy it as well. Volume One in a planned six-installment series, this stunningly as
sembled book holds great promise for the work to come (Volume Two introduces Wimpyl).
Designed by Jacob Covey, the hardcover package features a cut-out word balloon title—it's
literally cut out of the hardbound cover. Fantagraphics has. made exceUent use of digital technology to render these strips in crisp glory; the full page colour newspaper strips are lush,
soft washes. As such an integral part of comics history, these strips should always be in print.
Before this book, one had to desperately seek out Fantagraphics' previous re-printings from
the early 90s, unassuming volumes that, even in soft cover, were less economical and not as
advanced in design and layout. This book is a steal at approximately thirty dollars, an invest-
A few years back when I was seeking those earlier inferior volumes, my travels led me to
Olympia, WA—also known as Indie Rock Hell—where there exists a great comic shop called
The Danger Room. The two proprietors would often argue about which was the greatest newspaper strip of all time: Thimble Theatre or George Herriman's Krazy Kat. They each had both
strips on their Top Two list anyway, so it was a microscopic yet enjoyable argument. If you
want to add fuel to that debating fire there are some wonderful reprints of Krazy Kat also
available, but I still pledge allegiance to Thimble Theatre.
Before I take leave of you I should mention another must-have book that had me giddy as
a schoolgirl's first ride on a pony. Entitled Art Out Of Time: Unknown Comics Visionaries 1900-
1969 and edited by Dan Nadel, this book pleases the palates of both comic know-it-alls and
future junior initiates alike, with overlooked works by those who slipped through the cracks
whUst expanding the form. And absolutely no super heroes to speak of. Just sweet delirium
tremens. Seek it out It will cause you to float in space.
Tune in to Inkstuds radio, Thursdays at 2pm on CiTR, for the latest developments in the
comic world.
Robert Dayton   t.
loudQUIETlotid: A Film
about the Pixies
Directed by Steven Cantor and Matthew Gallon
Slick Figure Productions (2006)
Words by Dave Fernig
When the Pixies reunited in 2004,
they were more popular than they had
ever been during their original career.
The tour, cheekily entitled "The Pixies
Sell Out," garnered far more media attention than any of their albums did upon
release. Steven Cantor and Matthew
Galkin's documentary loudQUIETloud:
A Film about the Pixies follows the band
through their sold-out reunion. The
band's performances, rehearsals, and
post-break-up Uves are in clear view for
the first time, more or less free from the weirdness and obscurity that was
ironically always a part of the band's appeal. The most interesting and
entertaining aspect of the documentary is, naturally, the performances.
Viewers are given insight into why the Pixies remained a good live art,
as the band proves to each city they play that the tour was worthy of the
Cantor and Galkin are good at giving titles. Capitalization too, beUeve
it or not. The film's title is both a comment on the band's famous drastic
dynamic changes (that probably appear more frequently in Pixies reviews
than in Pixies songs) and the fact that, since the band's formation, it has
spent more time broken up than together. Though the word "quiet" may
only have been caps-locked to denote the brevity of their career and the
length of theirbreak-up, it nonetheless deserves the same treatment when
used with regards to their music. I say this not because I consider the Pixies
a particularly quiet band, but because it was through the tense, quiet verses
that the Pixies' live show was able to transcend an eleven-year break-up.
Watching the band hang out backstage is simply uncomfortable. There
is none of the playfulness you might expert from a group of people who
played "Debaser" together. What you see is a lot of the tension you might
expect from a group of people who broke up because they couldn't agree
on anything. As bassist Kim Deal's sister KeUy points out, they don't even
speak to each other. It's not hard to speculate that relationships this bad
helped make for the fragile, lurching interplay heard in the softer moments of songs like "Caribou" and "Tame". It is likewise almost impossible to imagine any "friends first band-mates second" group pulling
off these songs with such warped energy, especially after a decade-long
breakup. Whether or not there is a connection, both the personal and
musical tensions of the Pixies' first seven years are essentially intact on
There is remarkable consistency in the performances, but there are still
highlights. The live rendition of "Caribou" (filmed at the Commodore)
is no less eerie than the song's original release on Come On Pilgrim, and
the vocals of "Cactus" haven't lost any of the pain they shared on Surfer
Rosa. "U-Mass" is also extremely strong, proving that although the softer moments made the tour, the band still has a dynamic range. Frank
Black's sarcastic yelps can still make a jaded college student smile, and
Joey Santiago's lead guitar can still serve as one of the harshest white
noisemakers you've ever heard.
Purists can complain all they want that the tour was nothing more
than the Pixies' tribute to their former selves, but although the band inevitably did put on a more intense show in the 80s, it's hard to argue that
the tour wasn't worthwhile for fans. A more legitimate complaint would
be with the DVD itself. For although it has great performance footage and
is perhaps the closest you'll get to the band without the help of YouTube, it
definitely isn't as consistently exciting as the shows themselves. Watching
a group of people sit around and refuse to talk to each other is not something that most people are going to want to do more than twice, no matter
what can be learned from it.
FinaUy, loudQUIETloud forces the viewer to re-assess their attitude towards reunion tours. It is totally possible for an older band to put on a
great show, regardless of their motives. This is definitely something to
think about as acts like Dinosaur Jr., Sebadoh, and the Zombies get back
together. As for the Pixies, we've been reminded of their importance, and
loudQUIETloud is a worthwhile souvenir for fans. J» Mother
by Marlaina Mah
The first time I saw Mother Mother perform I was struck by the sharpness of their sound—a mix of three distinctive voices, you might caU them
a you might call them pop rock on crack, you might call them beautiful. Set to re-release their original self-titled album under the name Touch Up
Gang Records at the end of the month, the band is.quickly garnering acclaim for their energetic live show and eccentric cultural commentary
ines with a twist of irony. WhUe their name may be a nod to the chorus of "Spacelord" by Monster Magnet ("spacelord, mother mother!"), a
Freudian reference seems just as likely. Since their inception as Mother, the band has recently doubled up on the Oedipal moniker, highlighting their
ability to awaken our hidden desires. As a band composed of two girls and three guys, Mother Mother are no strangers to sexual tension. Check
it their CD release party on February 22nd at the Plaza before they head off to CMW in Toronto and SXSW in Austin, Texas, packed up nice and coqr
the tour. van.
Idiots! - "Lies and Secrets"
They are a duo from Toronto. Awesome live show. Dead sexy. Check
them out at iloveidiots.com and be one of the cool people to spread the
love. I love Idiots I
Okkervil River - "For Real"
Don't you hate it when you go to make a mixtape and you know for
certain what band to include, but you can't choose a tune? Do ya like to
Eric Dolphy - "Hat and Beard"
This was my first introduction to non-sucky jazz. Unfortunately for me,
it was recorded in 1964.
Chopin - "Nocturne in E flat Major"
This is one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written. I have put
it on many a mixtape, and it is never out of place.
Joy Division - "Transmission"
Why be happy when being depressed sounds so good?
Daniel Johnston - "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Your
Do yourself a favour, become your own savior and listen to the song.
John Coltrane - "Alabama"
A super-heavy mournful intro and a swing section that makes me think,
"fuck you". '■-,,■
Emily Haines - "Crowd Surf Off a Cliff
Summing it up with an edgy brilliance. It's depressing, she's right
Burnt by the Sun - "It's Mathematical"
It's fast. It's kinda scary. These guys have chops. What up, cookie monster?
The Smalls - "Toughest Times"
After seeing the The Smalls play the rec center auditorium of my hometown, Vernon, BC, this song became something of an anthem for me and
my pubescent girl posse. Mike Caldwell's searing vocals were regularly
heard in the background, and often screamed along to, while we consumed questionable amounts of Wiser's whiskey in Jennifer Goertzen'
Joanna Newsom - "Peach, Plum, Pear"
I really Uke to listen to this song when I'm wallowing in self-pity.
Metric - "Combat Baby
This is my new favourite sit-up song. Emily Haines has no idea that she is the sole n
fed comfortable ii
Jeff Buckley - "So Real"
I first heard this song on a mixtape my sister, MoUy, made for my father. I was 1
very awful and terrific until after it was finished and asked, "Who is this? She's
to listen to it and after I did, was quite disappointed.
>o young to cry for real, so I didn't I just sat there feeling
imazingl" I rushed out to buy the album, rushed back home
Jon Middleton - "After A Trip"
This song is beautiful, and really has no place on a mixtape, but only on the album by this wonderful fellow from Victoria. It's great because
you really can't understand what he's saying, so they're really good lyrics. It's kind of Uke Dylan's "Don't Think Twice", but with better lyrics.
It's really good in the morning. I eat it while I listen to oatmeal.
Gillian Welch - "Elvis Presley Blues"
This song is the perfect last song for every incongruous mixtape, such as this one. It reminds rr
when the lights get thrown on and you see how pale and awful everyone is and you think, "I'm
what I've got to do."   ^
: of the end of a long pointless night at aSbar
never going to do this again. I know exactly AT
1    J 1   .4
by Mono Brown
You couid learn everything you need to know about Vancouver indie act Collapsing
Opposites from the colourful and imaginative sweaters that consistently adorn the band's
backbone and creative musical entrepreneur, Ryan McCormick. If you've had the opportunity to
catch him at one of 157 live performances since 2002, you might agree that both Ryan's sweaters and Collapsing Opposites' songs can be described as playful and surprising, but more than
anything as unique. Although many followers of Vancouver indie will know Ryan as 1/7 of Kill
Rock Stars' They Shoot Horses, Don't They?, an equal number will know him for bis enthusiastic
(and predominantly solo) performances with Collapsing Opposites. On top of four independent
releases from CO over the last few years, there's a fifth full-length CD due out on February 27 on
newly minted Canadian label Local Kids Make Good Records.
In keeping with their Hegel-inspired epithet, Collapsing Opposites recently resynthesized as a
trio, emerging from the standoff between home recording project and solo act with loop pedal to
form a rock band. Even as a three-piece, though, Collapsing Opposites remains a musical experience in flux, with a sound that moves through the whimsical to the forceful, and playfully challenges the invisible divide between popular genres and indie rock trends.
On a recent and slushy Thursday evening, I met up with Ryan in the living room of the house
where he practices with drummer Laura Hatfield (also of Better Friends Than Lovers) and keyboardist Jeff Johnson (from Greenbelt Collective and OK Vancouver OK). Leaving Jeff behind
for his practice with Greenbelt Collective, the three of us walked up to a Korean restaurant on
Kingsway called Seoul Deckbaegi for post-practice eats. We chose a table and, as we mulled over
our menus, Laura affirmed, "There's beer."
Ryan, who sat across from me, gave me some background on the naming of the act. "Well,
originally I was really interested in dichotomies—boy/girl, night/day, war/peace, and how those
things were all breaking down and don't always work anymore. That was kind of heavy on
my mind in university." Although the influence of critical theory still shows in his playful and
imaginative songwriting—which honestly and critically explores ideas that range from Lacanian
pscyhoanalysis to popular childhood fairy tales—Ryan added as an afterthought to the foundational philosophy behind Collapsing Opposites, "When you think of a band, you don't think Of
what their name means; you think of who they are." ^ i|^-_<«
"Are you saying it's a mechanism for branding?" Laura teased.
"Yeah," Ryan quipped, "buy our brand."
Later in the interview, though, Laura commented, "Ryan's the hardest-working, most super- dedicated musician I have ever played with." She turned to Ryan and added, "You've really
refined what it is you want to reflect." Despite a highly theoretical name, Collapsing Opposites
tends to be as much about dedication, and about making distinctive and interesting music that
Ryan hopes will make listeners think about the world in new and different ways.
Fans and newcomers will have a chance to check out the latest full-length, Inside Chance, at
its Railway Club release party on February 23. Recorded by Ryan for Winnipeg's Local Kids
Make Good Records (remember Dave and Mike from CiTR show "Local Kids Make Good"? This
is them but now in Winnipeg) and produced by Ryan and Pietro Sammarco, the album also
features guest musicians Anni Rossi, Greenbelt Collective, Julia Feyrer, and Laura Hatfield, and
will be distributed m North America by Scratch Records. A follow-up to Microchips Implanted in
Your Brain, an out-of-print collection of limited edition rarities compiled to correspond with a
six-show tour in Japan in August 2005, Inside Chance was recorded over the span of a year and
a half—in-between extensive touring across Canada and the US with the likes of The Winks,
Anni Rossi, The Gift Machine and 111 Ease.
Following the release of Inside Chance, Collapsing Opposites will tour western Canada and
the American West Coast with the Doers and OK Vancouver OK, followed by more touring in
both countries in May 2007. This tour will mark Ryan's fourth trip across the country with
Collapsing Opposites. "The best place I've played?" considered Ryan. "Probably Winnipeg." No
surprise, then, that a Winnipeg label has formed to release the upcoming full length.
With another trek across this vast nation on the Collapsing Opposites horizon, Ryan and
Laura reflected on the challenges of registering Vancouver in the pulse of the Canadian indie scene. "Vancouver's always been isolated, separated [from the rest of Canada]," Ryan remarked. "As a small band, you can only really play in Vancouver or the suburbs."
"People's perceptions of Vancouver are sort of magical," added Laura as the two went back
and forth on the musical geography of Canada, "They don't really know what to expect [from
Vancouver bands]."
"There are bands from here that are pretty famous: The New Pornographers, Destroyer."
"Bryan Adams. I don't know. Maybe being in isolation Tfrom the rest of Canada] helped
those bands be successful. It makes me want to work harder."
"I don't like-it when people think of isolation as negative," concluded Laura, and Ryan
As we settled up at Seoul Deckbaegi and headed out into the slush again, the conversation
turned to band photos for the new website, and both Ryan and Laura seemed keen to hear
what I thought might make for a good photo shoot. Collapsing Opposites take a lot of this sort -
of input from their surroundings, reimagine it, and make it something new for their audiences. And from a band, that's fun. Magical, even,  w
Discorder is looking for
a horse with strong teeth
Ponies need not apply.
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Live Photo by Mono Brown if'a 4th Annual
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February 20th
$4 Hurricane Drink £
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_« SI
Victoria, Victoria! entered the contest determined to
win, and their talent, tenacity, and sheer hunger for
studio time helped them triumph over other bands who, in the
end, didn't have the same need for what the Shindig prize had
to offer (The Choir Practice and the Organ Trail both already
had recordings at the time of the finals).
records, giving high-fives and monopolizing the turntable with
records by The Kinks, The Beatles, and-CSJMY. Joe McAnally
(bass) does double duty as the band's backbone and pelvic
bone: as the group's most musically-trained member, his elastic bass style gives Victoria, Victorial's catchy garage-pop the
propulsion it needs to get shows up to dancing speed.
It was a bit of an upset when Victoria, Victoria! took the
top honours at Shindig 2006, beating out hotly-tipped
indie-poppers The Organ Trail and choral supergroup The
Choir Practice, but it goes to show that, at CiTR, nobody's
more popular than an underdog.
More importantly, Victoria, Victoria! are a refreshing new
act on the Vancouver scene, only recently blown in across the
Strait from their namesake hometown. Four longtime friends,
they each bring unique personalities to their sound, and they
have the cohesion and chemistry that only comes from musicians who learned everything they know about their craft
together. Chris Gaudet (guitar, vocals) is a commanding front-
man, robustly bearded and literarily inclined, often tweed-blaz-
ered and armed with only the most flavourful scotch. He sings
with a familiar strangled charisma, borrowing David Byrne's
nervy passion and injecting it with unselfconscious bloodiness,
complemented by the disarmingly addictive white-soul yelp
and skinny guitar sound of Jonah Gray, an Emily Carr grad
who co-edits Vancouver's most opulent and unconventional
new art magazine, Pyramid Power. Johnny Payne is the band's
drummer and fun-loving everyman, a hot dog and hockey enthusiast who can usually be found behind the counter at Zulu
Unlike so many bands of the Myspace era, Victoria,
Victoria! are miraculously free of pretension and insecurity.
They bear allegiance to no trendy subgenres or ironically-
appropriated subcultures, and they learned their chops by
delving deep into the the most classic 60's pop, rock, and
soul. The members of Victoria, Victoria! have an encyclopedic
familiarity with vintage hits without the fetishistic obsession
with recreating the past'that usually comes with it. They're
among the most good-natured bands I've ever met, and their i
sincere passion for lasting quality in songwriting leads me to
believe that they're more than capable of writing songs that
other young bands will want to cover twenty years in the future. In that light, the Shindig judges picked right: they saw
future classics. So how long have you guys all known each other?
f I met Jonah when I was sixteen. And now I'm 23. So...I
can't add those years. I think it's eight. Maybe seven?
How about Chris?
^S|| Jonah and I have known each other since our Lego days.
*^ So, like a year.
jyij We should note that none of us are the founding members. And none of the founding members are still in
the band.
When was the band founded?
Ts*| In maybe my Grade 10 year, by Ryan Flagg and
*^ Ross McKinnon.
4s_2» Ryan was the drummer before me.
And in what order did you join the band?
\g§ Jonah and I joined at the same time. We were the ad-
™ ditional players to fill out their band, which was a punk
band with ambitions to play "jazz punk", though I don't
think they ever firmly defined what that was.
Were they called Victoria, Victoria! already?
vSj At that time, they were called The Exceptions.
So, if the band falls through, are you guys going to go •
into acting?
Why not?
fl'd rather go into professional gambling, you know?
Something that's hit-and-miss all the time. That way
I'm stayin' on the edge.
Ve| It would be too much pressure...
To be hitting it all the time.
J§»§ Exactly. You gotta fold a few hands.
^s| It would be too much like your domestic arrangement.
So at what point did the band become Victoria, Victoria!?
^yi I think it was last year.
fWe should mention that The Exceptions were exclusively a
cover band, almost. We bad a few originals. Maybe seven.
Covers of who?
ySSf Oh, lots of bands.
X^w Mostly 60's rock, garage rock.
I thought it was supposed to be "jazz-punk"?
Tvfil Well, that was very early.
• J^' I think before they actually sat down and tried to play it.
Jh*1 I think the closest we ever got to a punk song was Billy
v** Bragg. But we did a Dion and the Belmonts song.
Til That was the thing about being a covers band. We had
to have about two hours of music... wO'1 j&fej
'iPx Because we'd play on Pender Island all the time, and
t^ we'd have to play about four or five hours a night.
;y/ So we played the set two times.
§We did an album around that time of all our originals...
that we play none of, now.
Do you still have that?
^j5P Oh, yeah. It's called Breaking Up with The Exceptions.
# Because it was the last thing by The Exceptions before
we stopped calling it that. Plus we'd all kind of broken
up with our girlfriends while we made the album.
When did you all move over here?
%M Well, Jonah moved over here for school, so he's been
*^ here four years. Johnny moved over to be closer to
Jonah, and that was last year. And I just moved here
this September.
§Joe still doesn't live here. He hangs out in Nanaimo. I
don't know what he does over there.
Is he going to move here?
<|pj§l I hope so.
'Mil He's pretty committed to the Nanaimo lifestyle.
t&Ȥ He goes to Malaspina and studies jazz. He's really the
7^ most committed to music of all of us. The theory of it.
So he plays jazz bass?
i|5P$ Well, he can. Not with us, though.
w*n Or if he does with us, he doesn't tell us.
ij80 We wouldn't know the difference, anyway.
YJ7 After a long-standing ambition of Ryan's to name a
band The Exceptions.
#And then Ryan joined the navy, and Jonah and I did a
movie together. We met at an acting workshop, and he
asked me to be in his movie, called Life's a Beach.
Y£ Can you hot print that?
You went to an acting workshop?
jP|f Yeah, at the Belfry Theater in Victoria. Jonah liked my
^O style.
«_2  That's true. You can print that.
fAnd then a few months later, I ran into him at a Denny's
and he said his drummer had just joined the navy. So, you write the majority of the songs, right Chris?
1 Well, these days. Although I firmly bejieve that they've
' been writing songs and just holding out on me.
} It's a long-running joke in our band that I've always
wanted to play guitar, because I used to for a while when
we were the Exceptions.
We won't let him.
i Johnny, what did you used to say was your middle name?
t Oh, Johnny "Metis" Payne. There were rumours that I
may have been a real-life descendant of Louis Riel.
Were these rumours ever disproved?
'Km Oh, they were validated.
How do you approach that differently from writing songs?
1 I think that songs, for me, can be failed poems. If it gets
1 too rhythmic or repetitive, I can file it away and maybe
make a song out of it later.
Are the other guys going to start chipping in with the
i I've always had a bit of a complex about bringing songs
to the band.
What if they let you play guitar?
■jp» Well, that could be—
^/ Not gonna happen.
§ Usually, when we practice, we come up with ten joke
songs, and out of that comes one good song.
I'm not saying that I'd agree to labelling us "indie rock",
but I think maybe John's too sensitive about it.
Are you all as into 60s rock as Johnny is?
j) I think so. But if I'm just hanging around listening to mu-
• sic, it could be 60s rock or it could be the Talking Heads.
I hear a lot of Talking Heads in you guys.
^Sw Also, Jonah and Joe are both huge-gangster rap fans.
" Jonah has got me into tons of the music I like. I am always trying to give something back.
Did you like the newest Clipse album?
Y4/ Yes I did. You can print that.
■«*» They were never validated! They weren't based on any-
y^ thing! Except maybe my...uh, courage.
TyjS And his rebel charisma. •
Chris, what are you doing now? You go to school, right?
^M Yeah, I go to UBC. I'm doing my Master's in literature.
So what happens to those joke songs?
P They stay in my mind! I remember them forever. Songs
like, "Mr. Toad"...
I But that's a beautiful song.
" And "Deer by the Side of the Road (I Saw You)".
" I've gotta say that we mostly listen to older gangster rap.
I'd say I like all gangster rap.
J I actually liked the new Clipse quite a bit, too. But more
to the point, I've been listening to the new Jay-Z record
a lot, and going through his back catalogue.
Are you hoping to teach, or to write?
l!!j5 Well, I'm thinking writing more than teaching, but I'm
**» in a program that trains you to be a teacher.
#He's looking to stay in the band as long as I can muscle
him into doing it. As long as I can stay stronger, physically, in my upper body, he'll be in the band. But if he
can beat me in a fight, he'll leave.
So what you're saying i
position these days.
the band is in a precarious
D Oh no, not really. He keeps us on the ropes.
I The brackets are important. Then there's the "Bear" song.
f But the "Bear" song, we used to play all the time. We
don't play it anymore, for a reason. That one was really
"indie rock" sounding, like a rockin' beat with a disco-y
thing in the chorus.
It's the closest we've ever come to being a novelty band.
So, how do you think of your music, in terms of style?
%2r I think we've all decided on "garage-pop", if anybody asks.
So what are your ambitions for the band? Are you looking to do this full-time?
«5| Johnny's giving me the thumbs up.
VJfy Well, he's just looking for any way out of that crappy
job at Zulu.
2u0 Yeah. No. I like my job. But I want us to be a full-time
r*\ band and do a recording and have it be something good.
Well that's important. Our band is based on physical
I I think one of the reasons we're sloppy at shows is that
t our practices are mostly just feats of strength.
Maybe you should work that into the show.
*50 We thought about that, but for insurance purposes,
™ we'd have to hire spotters. And then we would have had
to have only half a beer each as our wages.
!JP|i Plus, they'd have to be in the band, and people can't re-
^"^ member that many people's names.
Chris, I read some of your poetry in Pyramid Power. Do
you think poetry is still a vital art form?
ij Sometimes it is.
Do you write a lot of poetry?
J I do. I think I write poetry all
* the time.
r I don't really like the term "indie rock". Especially since
we didn't even really know what that was, back when
we used to play songs like that one. We played covers
of old 60s songs, and then when we started
jamming around and writing our own
stuff, it came out of that.
lie's looking to stay w
the band as long as I ca
muscle him into doing
it As long as I can stay
stronger, physically, in r
upper body, hellbe in t)
band. But if he can beat
meinafighUhe'llleave Are you going to adopt any kind of gimmick, like matching suits or haircuts?
'KJjjJl Oh, we had that.
^gj We used to always wear matching suits.
JS|3| Always.
^ Well, they weren't matching. They were more "ghetto"
^^^ than matching. But we all wore them.
view is that we just take it as it comes and try to make it    And he was in the navy?
different every time.
| Speaking of vision, I've been thinking of writing a short
story about someone who is an augur, but they only reveal well-known past events. Like, he'll be walking down
the street and see an eagle attacking a cat and say, "It was
Brutus and a gang of republicans that killed Julius Caesar!"
Isn't augury just reading entrails? Or does it encompass
reading all kinds of signs?
| We've also talked .about matching rhino-tusk penis
sheaths, [uproarious laughter]
«_>  The ladies like'er
r Uh, Jonah once wore a robot suit. We could bring
| that back.
? I think our gimmick is more Uke being crushingly handsome. That's sort of our schtick.
When I'm standing near the front at your shows, I've
often felt a sort of pressure in my chest. I guess that's
what it was.
\M And you thought it was nausea.
Or drunkenness.
^S$ I think of myself as a latter-day Billy Idol.
f Well, there's different types of augury: augury of birth...
What about soothsayers?
} Well that's a similar sort of thing. But I think entrails,
» Uke someone who reads horse entrails specifically, is a
I I keep pushing for Jonah to put a nice, Uke, Sears Portrait
i Studio photo of me on the cover of the next issue. With
maybe a wool sweater-vest on.
Have you guys ever toured?
^S| Other than the Gulf Islands?
Have you ever experimented...with drugs?
\*jy I'm afraid my grandma is going to read this. .
j He was in the navy, he took dance lessons, he went to
school, he worked, he was a lifeguard, he took Latin
drum lessons...
| He was always frustrated because he wanted to use his
Latin drumming in our songs.
r It didn't work. His polished Latin stylings didn't work
nearly as well as my, uh, lack of ability to play at all.
Which they seemed to like a lot better.
Do you guys see any changes happening in your music
as you go to record your first album?
(All) We've become more commercial.
| Well, since all our songs aren't really related themati-
cally, I diink we're just hoping to record a set of singles,
with as few extra step:
|? I think the prize is for twenty hours of recording time,
but we'll probably pay for twenty more hours.
I It_ii_J_it'UbeanEP.
V We'U probably record s
with five or six.
ti or eight songs and end up
Kliegel "Found
License Plates
from Toronto
and Vancouver"
Jonah, how much of your time does Pyramid Power take
Up, compared to the band?
YJfl Not very much. Most of my time is, Uke, surfing the web.
11 think you're gradually trying to make the magazine
and the band fuse into one thing.
8 We're going to start singing the articles.
tJj EventuaUy, it'U just be a singing magazine-o-gram.
What is your vision for the magazine, and what's your
specific role?
\^7 WeU, I think it's that I'm the co-editor with some other
guys. What I'm hoping for is just that the second one
should turn out a lot different than the first one. My
How about girls...on the road?
*5I| Have we ever conducted experiments with girls?
;yj Like, conductivity?
<$£§ Water displacement?
J£y| Saelan didn't think we'd pick up on his Last Waltz reference.
j? Ryan, who we were talking about before—he reaUy held
down that function of the band.
r Going back to whether our sound is changing, we've talked a lot about how we're entering our "psychedehc" period, and I still hope that's the case. EspeciaUy with Sacha
painting my drum skin in a more colorful scheme.
Are you guys worried about the so-called curse of
"wsf I'm not worried about it. Everybody keeps scaring me
^^ about it at Zulu. It's not going to happen for us. We're
going to break the curse. We're going to break its back.
Like Gtule in Street Fighter.
What have you guys been listening to lately?
' But it's hard, because he was much more fit than any of us.
" He'd take off his shirt first song, Uke, not even sweating.
Just, "Check it out, ladies."
r WeU, right now, we've been listening to the soundtrack
to Urban Cowboy.
Tn It popularized the cowboy look in the 8
Discorder   17 This is where we leam
that Johnny is a fascist, and
a Franco sympathizer, so
he would shout "Victoria,
Victoria!'9 at the end of the
Spanish Civil War.
Msf This morning I Ustened to The Essential George Gershwin,
y^ which my uncle gave me for Christmas. That guy just
pumped out the hits, eh?
^v® I Usten to Sparks a lot.
"' I've been listening to Bowie's Station to Station lately.
Your Blues, by Destroyer, and ESG's Come Away With ESG.
I Or if you won the Tour de France, and you were Spanish.
P Or if you were winning the Spanish Civil War.
i This is where we learn that Johnny is a fascist, and a
Franco sympathizer, so he would' shout "Victoria,
Victoria!" at the end of the Spanish CivU War.
f It could also be the name of a girl that none of us
really know.
Oh, hey, I almost forgot: why "Victoria, Victoria!"?
lg|i I've tried to distance myself from that name, but I think
I'm embracing it now. It's not a reference to the musical "Victor/Victoria", which I don't think the two people
who came up with it ever heard...
Ij^ WeU I came up with the first half, "Victoria", and John
came up with the second haU.
I think, in the region, people are going to take it as referring to the city.
* WeU, that's the first thing, it's where we're from'. But
there's also the Kinks song.
You guys have never played a show with They Shoot Horses,
Don't They?, or You Say Party! We Say Die!, have you?
We played a show with them, but we kind of hijacked it.
* We did one when Joe wasn't there. We played a few
songs without bass, and then Matt from Run Chico
Run came and played drums and I played guitar and we
did "Gloria" and "Money", with Shane, from Love and
Mathematics and The Choir Practice, playing bass.
I think your name also participates in a trend towards
an increasing embrace of punctuation in names.
I'd love to hear you play "Gloria".
F "Gloria" used to be our staple. We'd end every show with it.
) It's like in The Commitments, with the punctuation in the     /Cj
' name, and the repeated name. What's l;hat band called?      \£l Was it the Shadows of Knight version?
And, And, And.
| I like that we learned nothing from that and came up
with a retarded punctuated name.
. I think the beauty of a punctuated name is that
it's always speUed wrong. Of course, there are bands that
have manipulated that, Uke with They Shoot Horses;
they change the punctuation and the size of the letters
aU the time. ^f. m
f Their version sucks. I would r
r say we played their
Y~l It's virtuaUy the same as the Them version..
* Blasphemy, j)
«• • ___*-*
1W   fll
->* PHL______
Congratulations to
victoria, victoria!
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™!%m \
TwentV-seven has become an ominous age in rock 'n'
roll and, really, an ominous, age for just about anyone.
A time hits where the frustrations of relationships, careers,
and life in general merge into a deep malaise. Things that
once seemed exhilarating and fun begin to lose their lustre.
The body begins to show the first signs of wear. And a greying
of emotion, previously unseen, takes hold. This is the onset of
the quarter-life crisis. Maybe it doesn't happen for everyone
at 27, but it strikes at some point in the 20s with surprising
regularity. Thankfully for Phil Elverum, the worst of these tri-
appears to be over.
Discorder   23 Elverum, who recently survived his 27th year, now rests
comfortably in Anacortes, Washington with a wife, a newborn record label, and a band named Mount Eerie. These days
much of his time is spent in the quiet Island town, where he
enjoys cooking meals, relaxing with friends and mucking
about in his print shop. He also records the occasional Mount
Eerie album and, every so often, leaves town for a tour or two.
However, all was not so calm a few years ago. A bad breakup, a ridiculously long world tour and a period of seclusion in
frigid Norway led Elverum to some serious reevaluation, eventually throwing him into a' whirlpool of change. After some
regrouping in his hometown of Anacortes, he got married,
traded bis previous Microphones moniker for Mount Eerie,
added an "e" to his name and left K Records to start a label
of his own, P. W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd. With these adjustments
came a shift in sound and musical direction.
The 2005 Mount Eerie album, No Flashlight, found
Elverum trading many of the larger-than-life qualities of his
lo-fi Microphones records, such as Don't Wake Me Up and The
Glow Pt. 2, for a more inward-looking and humble approach.
The transformation caused a divide among critics and came
as a surprise to much of his fanbase. This was understandable, considering the massive shift between the unassuming
No Flashlight and its predecessor, the Microphones' LP Mount
Eerie, which took the listener on an epic journey of death and
rebirth much Uke die one Elverum himself went on.
Now, two years after No Flashlight's release and almost a
decade since the first fuzzed-out Microphones records, he appears to be on the verge of yet another makeover as both, a
songwriter and label owner.
After a long day of shenanigans, which involved Elverum
connecting himself to a parachute and blowing around a
parking lot, his aching body sits down to explain how his songwriting and label are slowly growing up. "It's a weird thing
to feel like you have people's attention, and, really, you only
have their attention for such a short period of time," Elverum
says. "So lately I feel I want to say something that's actually
Do I really want to say these
ambiguous metaphors about
clouds and my body, or can I
sau things more directly?"
Tired of the cryptic messages of his older albums, Elverum
wants to communicate more clearly in his newer work.
"Playing shows and touring can be a bit disorienting because
you don't want to take for granted that people have an interest
in you," he says. "So it ends up being, 'Okay, I'm standing on
stage here with my guitar and everyone's waiting for me to
say something. So, it better be good.' And at a certain point, it
becomes, 'Do I really want to say these ambiguous metaphors
about clouds and my body, or can I say things more directly?'
This is where I've been trying io push myself wiiii my newer
Elverum's new direct line of attack is clearly evident on
his latest 7-inch, Don't Smoke/Get Off the Internet, which only
holds two tracks/commands from a much larger body of songs
that he describes as "preachy." Elverum says tibe idea behind
these command-like songs, which are essentially about what
the titles suggest, is to encourage people to take a bit more
responsibility for their actions and to take things somewhat
more seriously. But ultimately, he hopes the songs get people
to grow up a little.
"I'm a little bit self-conscious about how overtly preachy
and condescending the songs are," he says. "But at the same
time, I'm frustrated with always being seen as a trippy nature
guy who has nothing substantial to say or feel, which I know
isn't true."
Perhaps in an effort to challenge this misconception,
Elverum has reinstated the Microphones name for the 7-inch.
When questioned, though, he claims a simpler reason for the
change. "I switched back to the Microphones because I felt
like the 7-inch was different than the Mount Eerie stuff, and I
guess just to confuse people a little. And no real reason other
than to be weird, I guess."
As to whether future releases will also use the Microphones name, Elverum would not say. He was also unsure if
his next album would feature a similar brand of sermonizing
songs like those on the 7-inch. In fact, Elverum says he's yet to'
make any concrete plans for a new record, but feels it's about
time to do one.
But until that time comes, he's happy to busy himself with
his label, P.W Elverum & Sun, Ltd., which began as an avenue
for Elverum to release his own records and the records of his
friends. So far the label has had about a dozen releases, with a
couple more lined up for this year. Elverum pretty much runs
the show, taking charge of everything from dealing with mastering and pressing discs to artwork and sales. He describes
running the label and making music as very right brain, left
brain. "I really savor the tedious work of doing something
over and over. There's a certain satisfaction in taking care of
a bunch of paperwork that's totally different than writing a
poem or playing guitar," he says.
Everything at P.W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd. thus far has been
printed in limited runs on white vinyl with a CD version
slipped inside. The limited editions of some of Elverum's past
releases have led to some hefty eBay battles, causing certain
records like the Microphones' The Blood (with a print of 300)
to go for more than $200. Elverum says he's forced to make
a very limited number of some releases due to the elaborate
artwork, such as mammoth posters, photo books, engravings
and silkscreen prints.
"That tendency of people to be collectors and elitists over
records—which I have, too—is a vice that needs to be taken
care of," he says. "My idea is not to create a collector's item. I
hate that somebody will spend hundreds of dollars on a record
that should cost ten. It's just such a waste, especially with all
the imbalance of wealth in the world. But I guess a record isn't
the worst thing you can spend your money on."
Even though Elverum spends the bulk of his time working on P.W. Elverum & Sun, Ltd., he is still hesitant to call it
a "real" label. "It's really an experiment in self-sufficiency. I
want to see if I can release a record in a low quantity and sell
Photos courtesy P.W. Elverum just enough copies that I can exist at a sustainable level rather than just always trying to pump
some big record and deal with all the promotion that comes with that," he says. "And, really, I
just think that it's a good way to live your life: by doing as much of it as you can on your own.
I guess I'm very traditional that way."
For now, Phil Elverum is content with the new direction his life has been taking and plans to
keep the label going as long as he can. He may not be living the typical rock 'n' roll lifestyle, but
who says small business owners can't have fun? After all, there was the parachute incident.
Phil Elverum's Mount Eerie, along with To Bad Catholics, plays Vancouver Feb. 14 at the
Other Space (above the Media Club at West Georgia and Cambie). Doors at 8 p.m. and show at
9 p.m.    S
Phil Elverum's main outfit, which has had several releases on the label such
as No Flashlight, Singers and 11 Old Songs. The latest release by the Microphones
is the 7-inch Don't Smoke/Get Off the Internet, which can now be ordered from the
label's website, pwelverumandsun.com, and hits stores in March.
A Norwegian hardcore band'Phil Elvenlm met while travelling Norway. This
group of Scandinavians wrote three records before breaking up, and their second,
Rope or Guillotine, is slated as the label's next release. The Spectacle's tendency to
turn it up to 11 sets them apart from the label's other calming bands.   <
A one-man band from Portland, featuring Phil Elverum's close friend,
Adrian Orange. Orange has churned out a long series of impressive folk records
in his short career. His out-of-print classic, Welcome Nowhere (the label's first release), will get digitally remastered by the label this year and printed as a double
gatefold album with several unreleased outtakes.
A mysterious party band from Revelstoke, BC, that Phil Elverum has yet
to meet in person. Their sound has been described as "semi-acoustic, multi-
culti folk-hop," which is two parts hilarity, one-part confusion. They have also
spawned World Peace, a cover band made up by K Records' Jason Anderson and
Adrian Orange. PEACE'S album, On Earth, comes out later this year.
A project featuring Phil Elverum's wife, Genevieve. Her brand of soft-spoken
Quebecois folk is in a similar vein to other shy chanteuses, such as Julie Dorion.
She greeted last year with the 10-inch, Gris.
following last year's seven-disc audio book of an Icelandic saga, Phil
Elverum plans to sit down and read into a microphone again this year. The audio
book will likely be an American classic this time, such as Moby Dick, but Elverum
has yet to make definite plans. He also intends to enter the publishing world by
releasing a series of coffee-table books, featuring photos and artwork from himself or other artists.
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Together Again
by Allan Maclnnis
J reat news: one of Vancouver's first punk bands,
the Furies, will open for DOA on February 10th at
Richard's on Richards. Furies' frontman Chris Arnett made his
last appearance here as part of the Shades, at the much-hallowed Vancouver Complication gig. Though there were some
technical difficulties—Arnett had leapt into the air, tromped
on his guitar cord and damaged it, so that the sound occasionally cut out—I was blown away by the guitarist's exuberance
as he steamed ahead.
"Chris is kinda like a guy on fire when he starts goin',"
Complication organizer Joey "Shithead" Keithley tells me. "It's
like when you get scrunched up inside in the gut, and you're
slightly sorta bent over—kinda like the way Iggy Pop is, except you're playing a guitar? He's just like, YEAAAAARGGHH
(indicates explosive leaping outburst): this weird kinda kinetic
energy/rage type thing, right? Yeah, it was totally crazy. I was
goin' like, 'Holy fuck, these guys mean business!' The band
played fine, but he was great—he's got a lot of spontaneity to
him,.that's what makes him really interesting."
The Furies were Keithley's first taste of local punk, before he founded DOAs precursor, the Skulls. "I was just 18
or something like that, in June of '77, and they had this big
'Punk Rock!' poster on the wall, and it said something like,
'You Won't Believe It!' or 'We're Out of Our Fuckin' Minds,'
and it said, the Furies and the Dishrags. And I was goin',
wow, punk rock! I had heard about the Ramones and the
Sex Pistols a little bit, and I thought, wow, this kind of stuff's
in Vancouver, is that ever weird!" Within a few months, the
Skulls were opening for the Furies at one of their legendary
Japanese Hall gigs. ~P^?0c
"I was really influenced by the New York Dolls and .the
Velvet Underground and the Stooges and that kinda stuff,"
Arnett tells me. "We just wanted to go out and create musical mayhem. We had no ambition to record, that was the furthest thing from our minds. We just thought, fuck, we're not
gonna get into the rock establishment, we're just gonna play
anywhere and just blast people. We were always dissing popular acts, 'cause we hated them! Vancouver in those days was
sort of a fat, wealthy, lazy city. It was enjoying a big economic
boom, and there were a lot of self-satisfied sixties fallout types
who were happy smokin' lots of dope and stuff. There was this
complacency in the whole city, and then we started playing,
crankin' the volume and playing lots of bar chords and just
rockin' out!" One memorable gig was a face-off with the Beatles cover
band the Hornets, at the Blue Horizon Talent Show. The Furies
had won the love of previous audiences with their raw energy,
but the final round turned into a "disaster," Chris says.
"Things were getting behind schedule, and the crowd was
getting antsy, and we were drunk, and finally we got on, and
there was this big table of jocks, and we played a few songs and
they said, 'we're gonna fuckin' kill you when you finish your
set!' And I'm just goin' 'Okayyy...' And after we did our set,
these guys were still not leaving, so we did a 45-minute version of the Velvets' 'Sister Ray,' and literally drove everybody
out of the whole fuckin' pub. These guys were still hangin' in
there about 20 minutes into the solo, and I had the guitar on
the floor and I was whacking it with my foot, and Jim (Walker,
the original drummer and later PiL member) was just pounding away, and they left, and most of the pub left. Needless to
say, we didn't win the contest. But it was fun!" When I tell
Chris a 45-minute "Sister Ray" sounds pretty good to me, he
laughs and says, "Be careful what you wish for!" -
The text of my complete interview with Arnett is viewable on my blog, alienatedinvancouver.blogspot.com. He'll be
joined on the 10th by original Furies bassist John Werner and
former Payolas drummer and Shades member Taylor Nelson
Live Furies and Shades recordings are out there somewhere. I talked to Joe about the possibility of releasing some
lesser-known Vancouver bands on Sudden Death. Dale Wiese
had suggested No Exit, while I'm hoping someday for a reissue
of the Spores' Schizofungi—a neglected classic.
'All those guys are great," Joe says. ^If I had a bit bigger staff, we could take something like that on, but I'm finding
now that you spend almost as much time on a CD that sells a
hundred copies as you do for one that sells two or three thousand. That's why I'm trying to pick and choose a Uttle bit. It's
really about having the time to get the job done; it's not really
the money. I look at these things, kinda like, if they break even,
that's good enough for me." Of Sudden Death's non-DOA local punk reissues, only the two Pointed Sticks CDs are in the
black, mostly thanks to the Japanese. Keithley would love to
do a Slow CD, but nothing is currently planned.
In addition to practicing up for the February show,
Keithley is putting the finishing touches on a solo project, the .
Band of Rebels, featuring DOA drummer the Great Baldini,
keyboardist Chris Gestrin, and Kevin Kane of the Grapes of
Wrath, as well as a guest appearance by DOA bassist Randy
Rampage. Says Joe, "It's upbeat—it's not punk, but almost
verging on it. It's got acoustic guitar, but it's very lively, and
it's got ska in it too, and a little touch of Eddie Cochran. It's
a funny, rockin' mix, but I'm happy with it." Side label JSK
media also plans to release its first CD, by a band called Once
Just, a young "rock-pop-ska" band from Calgary. With all
these projects on the go, I asked Joe which was more demanding—his old life of constant touring with DOA, or his role as
label manager.
"Oh, this is way harder," he laughs. "All I had to do then
was drive to the show, drink beer the whole way, do the show,
and drink a bunch more beer afterwards. Then show up at the
next show. There's no comparison. That was livin' the life of
Riley in those days!"
DOA celebrates its 30th anniversary in 2008. "There's a
pretty good probability that we'll have a new album out by
then," Shithead tells me. "Holy fuck have we been playing a
long timet"  S
Discorder   27  HfJT T A"
by Sasha Webb
According to MANY spiritual SYSTEMS and calendars, the present age is fast
coming to a close. We are on the brink of what the yogis call the Age of
Aquarius, a time marked by elevated universal consciousness and global unity.
People have come to feel the urgency of our human condition. The sensation that
time is speeding up is common. A tumultuous transition of epochs will see the
Golden Age of humanity realized, the end of disease as we know it, and fantastic
creative heights achieved. The changes in music and culture are palpable. Living
in the darkness your ego casts will cease.
Actually, I can't take credit for all of the above. The final phrase is stolen from
track nine of Hella's newest, and greatest, album to date. The lyric is prefaced by
even more prophetic language: "Words are not artificial they are blind/Camouflaged
in white light/you're gonna know infinity tonight." Entitled There's No 666 in Outer
Space, Hella's latest release is art history in the making and an authentic harbinger
of the Golden Age to come. It's been forever since I've heard an album so complete and refined on every plane. The LP has an ageless quality; experimental yet
grounded, and a grace found only in music that's been years in the making. And
doubtlessly indicative of the rock and roll revolution to come. Holla!
In such heady times, I was lucky enough to speak with two of Hella's members,
Aquarian guitarist/founding member Spencer Seim and newly inducted vocalist
and Gemini Aaron Ross. While I sat in my cozy apartment amidst Vancouver rain,
Spencer did his portion of the interview while cruising the streets of his Northern
Californian hometown on his motorcycle, cellular phone engaged. Gold rush hamlet Nevada City, founded on the banks of the mystical Yuba river, has produced
some pretty amazing musicians (Joanna Newsom among others).! asked Spencer
what's going on in Nevada City, what's the secret to such a creative community.
He wasn't "really sure, actually. Living by the Yuba river maybe, I just went hiking
there today. It's a pretty magical thing to have running right near your town. It's
pretty awesome up here. And there isn't really a scene here, so people don't really
feel like they have to play a certain way to fit into that, which I think is really good.
People play what they wanna play, it doesn't really matter if it's popular or not."
I've spent one day frolicking in the waters of Yuba, and it's one of niy most memorable swimming adventures. Just minutes from town, waterfalls tumble to crystal
clear pools over miles of natural water slides. No wonder people who live there do
such wonderful things.
Hella's style is not easily described, and has changed drastically with There's
No 666. They've expanded to a full band, after years as a guitar and drum duo.
Though I never found the duet of Spencer and drummer Zach Hill lacking, the
addition of Josh Hill's guitar and Carson McWhirter on bass fill out the ever-present depth and texture* Inventive vocalist Aaron .Ross and Zach collaborated to
Photo by John Baca
Discorder   29 produce skillful poetry that settles easily into Hella's signature
guitar/drum skirmishes. Somehow they manage to maintain,
their original raw integrity while integrating three more musicians. The final product is layered, speedy and devastatingly
unique, flowing effortlessly from start to finish.
The latest incarnation of Hella is the culmination of a long
creative history. The current members have worked together
in various musical capacities since high school (the mean age
of the band is 25). The obvious starting point is Spencer, Zach
and Josh's first band, Legs on Earth. Imbued with the pop sen-
-sibility of vocalist and bassist Julian Imsdahl, they produced
one full length album before dissolving in 2001. Lasers and
Saviours is a miraculous debut from such a young band, and
represents a crucial period for Spencer. "When I met Jules and
Zach, and we started playing together, I was like 'Wow, these
guys are crazy good musicians, I'd better get my shit together!'
We started playing a lot more and I got more inspired to do my
own thing." Carson came into the picture shortly after, and
the band was "really stoked to play with him. We were playing songs we were really stoked on, but there were ho singers
really around, and we tried to get stuff together, but it wasn't
right. Everything was pointing to that it wasn't the time to get
a full line-up together. Directly after, Zach and I started doing
Hella, and now we've just re-incorporated those guys back in.
It's kind of our dream come true."
Hella are well known as pioneering champions of the guitar/drum duo, and any devoted listener will be surprised that-
they've expanded so easily. Spencer and Zach were one prolific
pair over their five years together, starting with the release of
their first full-length Hold Your Horse Is in March 2002 on 5
Rue Christine Records, an auxiliary of Seattle-based Kill Rock
Stars. Over the next three years they put out a few EPs, and
a split live LP with Dilute. I asked Spencer about the halcyon
days of duo Hella, and about their best album and tours. "Devil
Isn't Red [2004], around that time period, we were really lucky
to get a lot of great tours. We had a pretty amazing time on the
When I met Jules and Zach, and
we started playing together, I
was like 'Wow, these guys are
crazy good musicians, I'd better
get mu shit together!'"
Quasi tour. One of the tours I look back on as totally amazing
that I'm probably going to be even more wigged out about as I
get older was the Ex Models, Need New Body, Hella tour of the
States. That was a pretty magical time." 2004 also saw the
release of a split seven-inch with Four Tet, and a Japan-only
three-track Acoustics.
Moving into 2005, Hella spent some serious time in the
studio producing a double LP on Suicide Squeeze Records.
Zach's dark, uninterrupted noise piece Church Gone Wild and
Spencer's lighter, Nintendo-esque Chirpin' Hard seem totally
opposite; neither party heard the other's contribution before
the records were finalized. The result was a totally innovative
project that required more than a pair to play live. Hella expanded to four to tour the new album, adding Dan Elkan for
vocals, rhythm guitar and synth, and Jonathan Hischke on
bass. The quartet toured like madmen, supporting System of a
Down and the Mars Volta on a stadium tour, Out Hud, and Les
Claypool, and headlining their own shows in the States, Japan
and Spain. In late 2005 Hella released the Concentration Face/
Homeboy EP/DVD", returning to 5 Rue Christine Records. Their
last release as a duo, Acoustics, came out this past September,
and the melted chocolate bunny cover art was amongst
Pitchfork's 25 worst album covers of 2006. The band was
duly pumped.
Hella returned to the studio in February 2006, replacing
Elkan and Hischke with the three new musicians that make
up the band's current incarnation. Five "feels more like a family," explains Spencer, since an extended line-up was always in
Hella's plans. In the family scheme of things, Spencer [guitar]
"would be Big Gay Daddy number one, Zach [drums and lyrics] Big Gay Daddy number two, Carson [bass and keys] the
Bigger Brother, Josh [guitar] the Little Bro and Aaron [vocals
and lyrics] the Dead Ghost Sister." Lasked Spencer about writing with five instead of two. "It was rad. I've had a lot of fun
writing with Zach over the last few years, because we could
just do whatever we want, not having to worry about vocals
or anything, but it's really fun writing with a full band and
having everyone's input. Josh and I write really well together
I think, and it flows'really well. It's great, I've been looking
forward to it for a really long time."
Aaron's vocals are a stand-out contribution, and I was
excited to talk with the "Dead Ghost Sister". He switches easily from melodic to demonic in an instant (fitting for a ghost),
and manages to navigate Hella's rugged soundscapes with
ease. When asked if it was easy to fit into Hella's music, Aaron
acknowledged the difficulties. "It was [easy] and it wasn't. I've Live Photos by Anthony James
always known about Hella and always had a lot of respect for
them, I kind of always had this feeling that we were coming
from similar places. It was kinda meant to be, I guess. It was
definitely a challenge to put melodies to their music, because
it's pretty insane. It was a big challenge too, because it's so
different from what I'm used to, but a good challenge because
, it pushed me to go beyond what I thought I could do."
Aaron's extensive musical history likely helped ease his
entry into the world of Hella. "According to my mom, I started
writing songs when I was a little kid, because I was always
coming up with little stuff. I started really seriously playing
guitar and started, writing when I was about 14. Pretty much
once I started I knew it was I whatwanted to do, it was the
only thing I could do really well. I've contemplated giving up
a lot, but I just keep going. The opportunity to work with Hella
came at the right time." His early experiences were "mostly
punk bands and stuff," before founding Fresh Young Blood,
on lead guitar and vocals, and putting out a self-titled LP in
August 2005. He further proved his versatility with an impressive solo acoustic repertoire. There's No 666 in Outer Space
is Aaron's first exclusively vocal effort, as he's normally leading with a stringed instrument in hand. "I never really envisioned that I'd just be singing in a band—I always thought
I'd be playing guitar or bass or something. I've never really
worked on my voice actually. I just try to sing like artists I like
and add it to the way I sing. This is the first time I've really had
to think about singing, working on perfecting it and making
it sound really good. It was a big opportunity and I wanted to
put a lot of effort into it."
There's No 666 in Outer Space will be released on January
30th on JVlike Patton's Ipecac records, whose mission statement is to "purge you of the drek that's been rotting in your
tummies." They describe their label as "a place where bands
we admire will have the freedom to release music they might
not be able to, or want to, release on other labels." I urge all to
listen to There's No 666 often and preferably with decent headphones, as it's one of those fantastic albums that gets better
each time you hear it. The realization of a full band tempts
me to classify their sound as reminiscent of Sonic Youth and
Mr. Bungle, complete with tlnrumming melodies and dynamic
movement. The poetry has the wit of Devo and the wisdom
of ancient sages. Even the cover art is perfect! Pursue any
chance to see Hella live (i.e. Pat's Pub on Sunday March 4th).
This album is going to be huge.
In times as hectic as these, as war rages and the weather
changes, we need good art more than ever—art that inspires
realism and hope for the future. There's No 666 in Outer Space
inspires such hope. The Golden Age of humanity is soon upon
us, and happily we have Hella to keep rock and roll moving in
the right direction,  v
None of the current members have had formal musical training.
Only one of the band members is single (sorry
babes). Actually, that's only really a maybe. You'll
have to guess who.
Hella's favourite way to reduce recording stress,
according to Spencer, is to "drink beer and blow up
stuff in the recording studio parking lot" (with fireworks).
Hella's favourite restaurant in North America is
our very own Naam. Hella doesn't eat any fast food
on tour, and have pretty much mapped out all the
health food stores across the continent.
Spencer's most prized possession? His.necklace.
Cumulatively, Hella owns 12 vehicles, including
boats and motorcycles. Car insurance is cheap in
Each additional car only adds $150 to insurance
premiums. God bless America.
Spencer, Josh and Carson are all Aquarius. Zach is a
Capricorn and Aaron is a Gemini.
Discorder   31 TOER REVIEW
(Dare to Care Records)
Everybody who took a crack
at reviewing the third full-
length release from Montreal's Les Georges Leningrad
has demonstrated conceptual consideration for what
they take to be the vision of
the transmigratory trio's
most nebulous of recordings. Muses Pitchfork of the
album (the title of which
roughly translates from Italian as 'pedigree'), "Sangue
Puro is at once intriguing
and frustrating because it
never breaks through the
top, or bottoms out on the
evolutionary range... the
music is perpetually stuck in
one knuckle-dragging, slime-
trailing state." A comparably contemplative critique
appears on the Drowned in
Sound site, and notes, "A_ this
third album draws to a close
so does the brain capacity of
the band by the sounds of it.
On final track 'The Future
For Less', Les Georges have
hit the. big red meltdown
button and are floating in
soundscape space." Looking
like buggy-eyed boho explorers and screaming like space-
travelling banshees, Poney
P, Mingo L'Indien and Bobo
Boutin challenge the intellectual architecture of indie
art-rock on Sangue Puro. And
according to a lot of these reviews, that was exactly what
weexpected them to do.
Most reviews also cautioned readers and listeners
that Sangue Puro ventures
farther into the 'unforeseeable universe of the Petrochemical Rock' than their
followers might expect. I
think, however, that a lot of
reviewers too easily take the
Les Georges Leningrad bait
and imagine Sangue Puro as
at best unfolding in some yet-
unnamed, ethereal cosmos.
Too few, however, made mention of the mockingly earthly
(think desecrated World
Music compilations from
1995) or perverse tribalistic
religiosity of tracks like "Eli,
Eli, Lamma Sabacthani" or
* "Mammal Beats", preferring
instead to allow the band
even more creative distance
on Sangue Puro than ever
before. I might revisit Sangue
Puro from time to time, especially for "Skulls in the
Closet" and "Sleek Answer",
but overall the album lacks
the allure of forbidden territory that could have made
reviewers warn, "Don't go
there." The band did, however, inspire a lot of interest
in the drawing of a bat on the
cover of the album.
Mono Brown
Aerial Days
(Fat Cat Records)
Songs of Green Pheasant's
latest record, Aerial Days,
is the type of album that
should've been on numerous
best-of lists in 2006. Unfortunately, its near-Christmas
release date destined tlie album to be lost among the fray
of pointless greatest-hits albums and other gaudy stocking stuffers. It's a shame,
since Songs of Green Pheasant, a.k.a. Duncan Sumpner,
likely released the best late-
night come-down record of
last year. But ill twists of fate
seem to trait this Sheffield
native in 2002, he sent a 4-
track demo of his debut to
Fat Cat with a bum email ad
dress attached. This miscom-
munication thrust the label
into a two-year search before
they could track him down
and release the demos as his
self-titled album in 2005. But
luckily Sumpner's brand of
lo-fi shoegaze isn't the variety of songwriting that goes
out of style quickly.
Now a year later, Songs
of Green Pheasant has created the sort of introspective
music that fits any season.
For this album Sumpner has
toned down the folk inflections of his debut and instead
relies more on drawn-out
drones and hazy textures to
guide the album along. He,
has also increased his production possibilities by upgrading from four tracks to
eight, allowing more beats,
organs and backing vocals to
work their way into the fold.
His gentle guitar playing stiU
dominates, but in a fashion
that lies closer to Flying Saucer Attack or Pan American than Bert Jansch or
Will Oldham. Songs such as
"Pink by White" and "Wolves
Amongst Snowmen" build
slowly and carefully, allowing the instruments to meld
into sleepy soundscapes. A
similar formula is even used
on the album to rework John
Lennon's "Dear Prudence"
into a spaced-out slow jam.
Aerial Days may only play
for a brief 35 minutes, but
Songs of Green Pheasant has
created a beautiful record
that should find its way into
many stereos this year.
BRock Thiessen
(Fuzzy Logic)
Henri Faberge & the Adora
bles recently swung through
town with extremely cutesy
and talented bubble-gum
poppers the Bicycles, sharing members between the
two groups. They are also
mentioned in a number of
Canadian blogs as having an
excellent live show. Bearing
this in mind and riding on a
small tide of buzz, I selected
the Henri Faberge & the
Adorables disc from a desk
in the Discorder office and
excitedly decided to review it.
However, if buzz was always
reliable, we'd be able to find
a mind-blowing new band
every week.
The indie community recently went through an onslaught of confectionery pop
from bands like the Bicycles
and I'm From Barcelona,
These guys fall squarely into
this recent musical movement. While doing their best
to channel the Monkees in
a modern context, Faberge
and his Adorables fail to deliver the goods. Perhaps this
reviewer has merely reached
saturation point for artists hi
this genre, but all the friends
singing backup vocals, kooky
love songs, and guest horn
sections failed to distinguish
this record from its superior
predecessors. They flaunt
all the conventions of other
bands in this genre, hut don't
manage to evoke the camaraderie and humour that initially made this kind of music
so much fun. They try to keep
their sound modern with a
jaded take on romance, but
all it does is mirror this listener's jaded love Of sugar pop.
Jordie Sparkle
Oh No
Like countless others before
me, I first learned of Ok Go
through a divine collision of
YouTube and desk-job slack-
dom. It was August 2005,
and the band had just released its second album, Oh
No. We put off work to pass an
afternoon of choreographic
arrest thanks to YouTube's
broadcast of the music video
for "A Million Ways."
The video was shot with
all the ingredients to stir
the loins of hip kittens everywhere, complete with a
borrowed camera and backyard for DIY sincerity, suits
and alligator shoes for irony,
and that magic marriage of
boy band choreography and
self-effacing silliness echoing Fatboy Slim's "Praise
You". The infectious camp of
it all broke YouTube records..
"A Million Ways" is now the
most downloaded music
video ever, and the follow up
treadmill-dance opus "Here
it Goes Again" ranks among
the most-viewed YouTube
videos of all time.
This entire preamble leads
me to the reason for writing
this review in the first place:
even though Oh No was
originally released last summer, it's been recently re-issued with the added punch
of a bonus DVD, containing
a collection of the band's
notorious dance videos, the
requisite made-for-MTV music videos, and tour footage.
The DVD spins the tale of a
band rocking the pants off
the States, but if everyone's
been watching Ok Go on YouTube, where did the music
fit in the first place? It's just
background noise, a pleasing concoction of no-wave,
post-punk, power-pop and
the gang, all playing second
cowbell to the hype machine
motored by the band's lop- sided grace and -borrowed
moves from The Matrix and
Westside Story.
The popularity and resulting commercial success of Ok
Go is propelled by thousands
of online slackers watching
the band dance on YouTube
while they should be working,
schooling, or updating their
MySpace profiles to publish
their own footage of themselves dancing on the web.
The very act of re-releasing
Oh No testifies to the degree
to which the band—and record label—rely on the clout
of its videos to sell records.
As for the music, well, that's
just a bonus add-on as selfconsciously innocuous as the
DVD itself. Video kills in many
ways, but if the second coming of Oh No is fueled chiefly
by the perceived demand for
immortalizing Ok Go's videos on DVD, Capitol Records'
might be missing the point:
most money-saving internet
kids will save their cash for
more grass while they continue to watch the band online for free.
Jackie Wong
The Enemy Chorus
(Secretly Canadian)
It's amazing what difference
a few years make. Since the
Earlies' start as a tape-swapping project, this quartet
has ballooned into a 12-plus
member five act, and their
LP, The Enemy Chorus, shows
they have grown more than
just in number. The depth of
the Earlies' new full-length
shows a more confident
and mature band stretching
leagues above its previous
work. In fact, 2005's collection of EPs, These Were the
Earlies,' feels small and almost amateurish when held
UP against the magnitude of
The Enemy Chorus.
The Earlies achieve this
feat by straying away from
the pastoral pop of their early
efforts and crossing into new,
darker territory. This half-
Texan, half-English band uses
a heavy-dose of kraut rock
and bit of prog to plot their
change in direction, while
molding these influences into
their own sound. Throughout the album, rhythmic
keyboard patterns, inventive
orchestration and punching .
drum sequences guide the
listener through a hypnotic
series of tracks brimming
with smart twists in style and
production. The Earlies' lush
orchestral arrangements
on songs such as "Foundations and Earth" and "Gone
for the Most Part" bring a
new level of intensity, and
it's this type of production
savvy that makes the record
so exceptional. At times, the
Earlies' recording techniques
even rival the works of such
legendary producers as David
Axelrod and Nigel Godrich.
Despite the record being
primarily dark, the band
is sure to throw in enough
sunny moments to save it
from been filed under the
doom and gloom category.
Ultimately, The Enemy Chorus
plays like some twisted carnival ride of sound and vision,
making this record superb
headphone fodder. In 2007,
these are the Earlies.
BRock Thiessen
Tic Tac Heart
Tic Tac Heart tingles the ears
with a bubbly pop sensation that's more fuzzy fizz
than sickly sweet. The newly
formed trio currently likes to
keep its songwriting in the
family: Suzy Junior, Adam
Sabla and Katy Major are
sister, brother and girlfriend
respectively. Adam and Katy
are also no strangers to the
Vancouver music machine,
having freshly formed Junior
Major as a phoenix from
the ashes of the recently defunct Philharmonic. The
band's debut EP overflows
with hepped-up rock 'n' roll,
sharing an uncanny and
unintentional likeness to
2003's next-big-thing the
Dirtmitts, and a slightly
intentional homage to now-
big-thing Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
You may also detect a hint of
Veruca Salt and a splash of
Kim Deal in the disc's opener
"Dirty Birds".
Junior Major may never
hit it big (but maybe they'll
be huge, who knows what
the gods have in mind these
days), but I guarantee you will
want to see them now, while
they're fresh, fabulous, and
fun. Lead guitar player Katy's
history of stage fright aside,
the band plays frequently and
ferociously. Find 'em.
Milkwhite Sheets
When Isobel Campbell departed from Belle and Sebastian, she attempted to
leave any evocation of the
word "twee" behind as well.
Milkwhite Sheets is the third
record that sees her reaching deeper than those musical roots to put together an
album of classic-sounding
Recorded at the same time
as last year's Ballad of the Broken Seas, her latest (that was
actually put to tape first) is a
little less country, and a lot
more traditionally British. It
also jettisons Mark Lanegan,
leaving Campbell as the lone
voice. While the ex-Screaming Trees frontman's husky
vocals provided a great foil
for Campbell's wispy purr, in
this folkier territory she has
no problem going it alone.
In fact, the vocal-only take
of "Loving Hannah" proves
that she doesn't even need
backing instruments to craft
a truly beautiful take on a
folk standard. The rest of
the record is less sparse, but
the arrangements are kept
simple, never overshadowing
the strength of Campbell's
gentle, airy coo. In addition,
her own tunes stand tall next
to the bevy of covers she
tackles. The result is a record
that collects a baker's dozen's
worth of uniformly great
tunes. The equal merit of the
songs, however, is also the
record's biggest (and perhaps
only) weakness.
If you could level a criticism at Milkwhite Sheets, it's
that it lacks any sort of dynamic. Taken song by song,
there's nary a dud in the
bunch, but after three quarters of an hour, there are few
standouts either. Standing
alone, any of these tracks
are winners, but as an album, the even tempos, even
quality, and mercilessly even
pacing glosses over the individual brilliance within.
Quinn Omori
This is an Ad for Cigarettes
(Ache Records)
Winning's discordant, triumphant sound clicks something
deep inside. Although punk
applies equally to an attitude
as to a music, I would hesitate to truly hurl the moniker
on Winning's CD. The jams
feel too well put together and
laid out. Blessedly unpredictable, each song unfolds in- a
frenzy of well-orchestrated
rock: clangy guitars (some
say angular, but "clang!"
like the sound of steel beams
dropped on concrete, fork-
lifts, and rusty gates), oddly
overdriven bass and the voice
of" defiance.
The conceptual element
is the title: a cultural comment, throwaway title, embedded theme, or reference
to the omnipresent marketing cigarette companies and
others employ, it confounds
a straightforward reading of
the music's purpose. Regardless, listening to this CD on
headphones is better than
smoking a half-pack a day.
The whistle makes a guest
appearance and pops up in
the middle of riffs and musical tropes reminiscent of the
stop-start dynamics of early
Blood Brothers, and the'
post-rock of Joan of Arc.
Each note is separate, but part
of a greater, chaotic math-
rock whole. The instrumentation stays balanced like the
prairie plains throughout;
free-jazz-inspired but locked
into _ trio formation, hammering home the bass, the
drums, the guitar. I fully hear
the album's "this is the music
we want to make" statement,
and just as fully appreciate it
as transitory and fleeting.
Sound bites are up on their
Myspace (myspace.com/win-
ningmusic). Winning are
all about graciously being
anti-everything, but ironically putting their heart and
soul into it all. It reminds me
of the Who: "don't try to dig
what we all say." This is the
part of the review in which
I tell you to go and listen for
Arthur Krumins
Boy, is this a lot of fun! None
of the songs are masterpieces, but man, we're talking
garage punk done well. Originally from Guelph, Ontario,
four college dudes named Fil,
Mike, Matt and Tim formed
Flashlight Brown "out of
boredom" and spent the next
6 years struggling until scoring a contract. And lucky for
us! From the first opening
riff, Flashlight Brown delivers a 40-minute dose of party punk that engages anyone
who's into rock.
Most tracks on Blue are
basically in the same mold:
refreshingly loud and let-
out-your-gut rock (I refuse
to use the term "emo"), and
frequently anthemic. There's
about a billion rocking choruses that one can sing along
to, from the good ("Frankie's
Second Hand") to the great
("Save it for Later") to the
awesome ("Sicker"). Whether this is true or not, "I'm
Not Sorry" really sounds like
drunk college frat boys giving their all.
Of course, the flip-side to
all this blast is that the album
suffers from lack of variety in
music styles and genres. You
may get excitedfrom engaging
in all the energy. The only different (not to mention quiet)
track, in fact, is the ironically
titled "Loud Music." But what
the hell, I'm very satisfied. No
stupid string arrangements
or brass accompaniment that
most rock artists suck at. No
sappy ballads (or even worse,
power ballads) that make you
reach for the toilet. If you are
a- rock lover, I recommend a
dosage of one full listen of
Blue for every 7 other albums
you listen to. Increase dosage
to 2 if you listen to mainstream radio.
John Park
In my books, good hip-hop
wakes you up on the bus ride
to work, puts game in your
shame, and makes you feel
like you can scale small buildings. You throw your hands
up, you get the fuck down.
I'm not sure if Fat Joe accomplishes any of these things.
"The soul of Big Pun is flowin'
through me," he says in the
lead-off track to this new solo
album, Me, Myself and I. Seven years after Big Punisher's
death in 2000, the similarities between the two rappers
continue to run deep.
The structure of Joe's
album reminds me of the
posthumous documentary
about Pun's life, Big Punisher:
StiU Not a Player. The film climaxes with camera footage of
Pun pistol-whipping his wife.
In similar fashion, Me, Myself
and I peaks at the middle of the
record where Joe raps about
blowjobs from a sixteen-year-
old girl in "She's My Mama."
Typically, good production,
beats, and a dash of irony
can gloss over such rampant,
um, underage sexing, but Fat
Joe lacks the skill to pull it
off. One diamond in the ear
appears in the single "Make
it Rain," and Lil' Wayne's .
collaboration here helps in
spades. Otherwise, the album
is overproduced and under-
skilled. While Eat Joe gives
shouts to Biggie. Smalls,
Jennifer Lopez, Hurricane
Katrina, and the bird flu, the
perceived currency ' of his
credits is undermined by an
otherwise half-shot effort,
similar to the live 8 that he
parodies on the album,   j*
Jackie Wong
Discorder   33 wmwnfA
. November 29
Commodore Ballroom
When Chan Marshall rolled into the Commodore for her final show of 2006, it marked
the end of a year that saw the singer known as
Cat Power turn herself around, both personally
and professionally. Last year ushered in her biggest record to date, was punctuated by a stint
in rehab that actually worked out, and perhaps
most important to the thousand or so people
who showed up to listen to her, it brought an .
end to the infamously bad performances that
have plagued her career. The evening wasn't
free of odd moments or Marshall's "quirky"
stage manner, but it just wouldn't be a Cat
Power show without a little of both. The night
also marked the final time that she would sing
.with the Memphis Rhythm Band backing her.
With all due respect to everyone that's played
with Marshall in the past, the Memphis Rhythm
Band, led by Al Green co-conspirator Teenie
Hodges, is the only collection of musicians
to join Chan on tour that lays down tracks to
match the soul that oozes from that famous Cat
Power croon. And when recreating the songs
from The Greatest, a little soul is a required piece
of the puzzle. With that in mind, the evening
predictably drew heavily on Marshall's latest, as the assembled players made their way
through all but three tracks from her most
recent long-player during the main set. There
was a brief solo interlude before the ensemble
returned to inject that same rhythm and blues
into a trio of covers, and with the poise of an
old pro, Marshall led her band off stage for the
last time. The backing cast was tight without
sounding stilted, and loose enough to add a bit
of extra flair to the newer numbers, but they
lacked the spark that punctuates Chan's best
If you could say one thing about the "new
and improved" Cat Power, it's that her shows
are largely uneventful. There were a few "can
I have some more reverb" moments, but by and
large the night could be described as predictable. That's great when compared to her reputation for aborting songs, bursting into tears,
or storming off stage, but it still seems like she's
lost something. In the past, when attending
one of Chan Marshall's performances you went
hoping you'd avoid a spectacle, but you also
knew that if you were lucky, you might end
up witnessing something truly awe-inspiring.
Now you're unlikely to get a train wreck, but
the calculated lack of spontaneity also means
you're unlikely to see something revelatory either. After a decade of uncertainty, maybe it's
okay to hedge your bets.
Quinn Omori
The Black Lips at Richard's on Richards, January 2_th. Photo by Alanna Scott
RLA The Pointed Sticks. Photo by Leigh Righti
December 15
Commodore Ballroom
Squatting on the sticky, beer-glazed floor
of the Commodore Ballroom, indie geeks,
a few 40-plus parents and bookish-looking
high school kids were under the command of
Colin Meloy.
. At one point in the show, he theatrically
"killed" every member of his band and proceeded to wave his hands, silently convincing
3 00. people to play dead. This was strange because: a) he doesn't seem charismatic enough
to pull such a stunt and b) he'd been doing it
all night.
From convincing the crowd to create embarrassingly awkward dance circles to re-
enacting General Custer's Battle of the Little
Bighorn—complete with human-chickens
and more death—Meloy's antics were obviously well-rehearsed, but somehow still fun.
The highlight of the show was during the
sing-along "Sons and Daughters", arguably
one of the strongest tracks off the band's latest hyper-literate album, The Crane Wife.
"This song only works if everyone sings
along," Meloy coaxed. He was clearly referring to the track's culminating moment when
clashing voices jubilantly shout, "Hear all the
bombs, fade away." Again, the crowd obediently followed his lead to create one of those
shiver-inducing concert moments that people
unjustly describe as "so cool," rather than being geeky enough to explain that the hairs on
their arms stood up.
But, from the beginning, opinions on this
December 15th show were skewed by the fact
that anticipation had a month to build. The
band cancelled their two Commodore dates
"due to illness" (according to a handwritten
sign pinned to the venue door) back in November.
"I drove up here from Washington. I saw
the sign, turned around and was interrogated
by a customs guard who didn't believe The
Decemberists were an actual band," a young,
lanky boy told me as the roadies set up the
band's equipment. That was one downside.
Another was the ample opportunity for jokes
ending in the almost-punch line, "Well at least
now we're seeing the band on their home turf
of December." _ ^ £ OVv
Alyssa Noel
December 16
River Rock Theatre
Having played Vancouver on the Warped
Tour only five months ago, Joan Jett and the
Blackhearts came back in full force to greet
an almost entirely different demographic at
the River Rock Theatre in Richmond. What
looked like a potentially risky and embarrassing excursion into "remember When" for
the truly non-stop rockers turned out to be a
no-holds-barred success. In a sea of middle-
aged casual wear, several small contingents
of younger fans stood out with mohawked
heads, bondage wear, and their ability to recognize the house music as Bikini Kill. Even
amidst this diversity nobody went home disappointed. Whether it was the parents looking to share a nostalgic evening with children
who hadn't yet been born when Joan Jett was
topping the Billboard charts, or the twenty-
something set who knew that they were
witnessing a vital part of music history, the
crowd was primed for an excellent show.
The set opened with a signature tune, "Bad
Reputation", and it was evident that Joan Jett
and her band were ready to remind long-time
listeners of their own teenage rebellions, and
then surpass any expectations with an unwillingness to settle or slow down. The River Rock
security team (far from intimidating in their
suits and gold nametags) had to give up on
keeping the younger fans in their seats, and
by tiie third song were reduced to standing
nervously at the sides of the stage and watching the crowd grow. Big hits like "I Love Rock
and Roll" and "Crimson and Clover" brought
even some of the more subdued listeners to
their feet, and showcased numerous stiff
but entertaining dance moves and wailing
air guitar solos on the part of the audience.
As touring veterans, Joan Jett and the Black-
hearts were able to keep the show tight without ever seeming unenthusiastic. The songs,
invariably loud and full of the independent
rock 'n' roll spirit that the band is known for,
flowed one to the other with relatively little
stage banter, aside from Jett's finger-wagging
references to this year's full-length studio release Sinner.
The band played through almost their entire new record and proved that the days of
their relative silence about politics are firmly
in the past. Jett's activism, which has recently
earned her a Peta2.com award for animal-
friendliness, came through these songs to
members of an aging generation that was
perhaps unprepared for lyrics such as, "Pain
turns to pleasure fast/Relax while I pound
your ass." "Riddles," a song that Jett introduced as "from us to our [American] administration," speaks out against the kind of Or-
wellian double-speak that President Bush and
his advisors perpetually use when addressing'
the public. Joan Jett and the Blackhearts don't
mince words and have certainly not forgotten
how to rock.
Patty Comeau
January 6
Richards on Richard-
Pointed Sticks guitarist Bill Napier-Hemy
plays with the effortless grace of a Zen master
turned guitar teacher. Joe Keithley, in the audience for the band's evening show, says "He's
kinda like Billy Zoom that way, where he's in
control of the guitar and he just plays and
smiles, rather than tryin' to force it and jump
around and wave the neck in the air. But he
was always really good, and he hasn't lost a
step at all. They were great." Napier-Hemy
wore a button-down striped shirt during both
the afternoon and evening shows. I watched
carefully to see if he would change the shirt
between sets, but there was no need: he didn't
break a sweat. He even sang a verse of "The
Marching Song" (Nick Jones, gesturing: "He
sings!"); he last performed that in Vancouver
with Sticks' bassist Tony Bardach at the Vancouver Complication gig, the closest this town
has come, before January 6th, to seeing the
Sticks onstage in 25 years. He told me afterward that the show was a surprising amount
of fun to play, and that he was delighted to
see young people in the audience who knew
the songs. When I spoke to members of the band in
the summer after their Japanese tour, they
were tentative about whether there would
even be a Vancouver show. Now they're confirmed for the March 31st Radio Heartbeat
Power Pop Festival in New York, and are considering other shows on the way. I would say
that's a fair indication that they're having
fun. It certainly looked that way. Nick Jones
really warmed to the audience's enthusiasm
the second show, stripping off his outwear and
inviting them to sing along. He had been just
a little more reserved during the afternoon's
all-ages gig, offering abundant thank-yous
between songs to family and friends (and Bill's
music students, and three generations of clan
Montgomery) in attendance. My favourite of
these was his ironic thank you to CFOX and
CKLG for all their past support.
IanTiles, the band's pre-Dimwit, pre-Robert
"Rubber Boot" Bruce drummer, hit hard and
fast during both shows. Dale Wiese of Noize
to Go, a longtime friend of the Sticks, engaged
in between-show patter with me about the
sheer power of Ian's drumming. It was like
Ian was channelling the much-missed Ken
"Dimwit" Montgomery; the night ended with
"We Love You, Dimwit!" messages flashing
on a screen behind the stage. Tony brought
his psychopath's hat out for both sets. Gord
Nicholl rocked his keyboard both figuratively
and literally, leaning in to the songs, the best
of which ("Out of Luck" and "The Marching
Song") were saved for an encore. The second
encore, at the end of the night, was the Son-
ics' "The Witch" and an Abba song the band
has a history with, "Knowing Me, Knowing
You." Seldom do bands get to write a final,
triumphant chapter so late in their history—
though it remains to be seen just how long
this final chapter will be.
Allan Maclnnis
January 13
Pacific Coliseum
Spotlights, Escalades, limousines and copious cop vehicles—precisely what the atmosphere outside a rap concert should be. There
was a definite buzz around the Pacific Coliseum. That buzz, if visible, would have been
rivaled in quantity only by the smoke that
seemed to be billowing out of every orifice of
the individuals inside.
Of the two big names on the bill, there
certainly seemed to be more questions surrounding Ice Cube. Cube seemed conscious of
this, as references were made on stage as to
whether or not he should still be rapping, con-
Stephen Malkmus & The Jlcks. Photo by Ken Eisner
RLA sidering the "movie money" he is now pulling
down. Ice Cube showed impressive stage en- .
ergy though, bouncing around and displaying considerable aggression for the star of
Are We There Yet? The only questionable part
of Cube's act was the giant "Westside" hand,
which looked fike a stage prop that would be
more at home ironically accompanying the
Beastie Boys.
Between stars came unexpected entertainment, as a noticeably inebriated male found a
visible area to strut, drawingx;heers. He even
used the crowd to ward off security. Others attempted to join in and garner some attention,
unsuccessfully, and a chair-throwing incident
occurred. The original fan-favourite did get
his fifteen minutes of fame though; too bad
he won't be able to remember it.
. Snoop Dogg took the stage and delivered a
set that seemed tailored to the fans' desires.
It included Snoop's hits, new and old; some
shared stage time with Ice Cube, and the expected drug, alcohol and sexual references
were made. Snoop did questionably subject
the crowd to his uncle's dancing, but for the
most part his extensive crew was made up
of strong contributors. The show delivered
exactly what the crowd hoped for. Snoop
dropped it, and it was hot.
Pddraig Watson
January 18
Richard's on Richards
' The day of the Stephen Malkmus show
your correspondent learned that CBC Radio
2 had finally cancelled the outstanding Brave
New Waves in an effort to re-brand the station
as "an adult-oriented music service, targeting
an audience over age 35." Also that same day,
physicist Stephen Hawking joined together
with a group of Chicago-based scientists to
announce that we had inched two minutes
closer on the Doomsday Clock towards com
plete annihilation of the human race. The
universe was obviously mired in a serious
psychological black hole. All forecasts for an
awesome show that night were starting to
look pretty bleak.
The opening band was a distasteful 70s-
style psychedelic group, whose technically
flawless performance elicited from the crowd
barely more than sour expressions and bored,
dull eyes. For a band concerned with "the urgency of life-awareness and death-awareness
in a war-torn world" this kind of response
must be heartbreaking. Jt's the kind of scene
which evokes the same emotional progression
as watching a South Carolina hamburger
eating contest in super slow-ino. As cynical
mocking gives way to bored revulsion, and
then finally to acute pity, the viewer realizes
that the very fact that the participants are
so good at what they're doing is what makes
their tragedy so complete.
Somehow, Malkmus and the Jicks managed
to reverse the entire atmosphere. With their
relaxed stage presence, deep and resonant
sound, and with no small help from recently
added drummer Janet Weiss of Sleater-Kinney, his band gave a genuinely solid performance. After the show though, a lot of fans
admitted to comparing the Jicks to Malkmus'
former band Pavement and coming up disappointed—which is a serious shame. Had they
abandoned their preconceptions they may
have seen the show for what it was at heart:
a superb rock show and the perfect antidote
to an otherwise disheartening Thursday in
Best Overheard Adjective to Describe Show:
JakeM.   J|
CiTR's charts reflect what has been spun on the air for the previous month. Rekkids with stars (*) mean they come from this great land o' ours. Most
of these platters can be found at finer (read: independent) music stores across Vancouver. If you can't find 'em there give the Muzak Coordinator a shout
<jj&KfHM*-822-8733'. Ms name is __fce. If you ask nicety he'll tell you haw to 0 iem. To find out other great campus/community radio charts check out
1fTlij0$_tiy ihe dopesttilisofJanuary      www.earshot-onltne.com.
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Wsfcks* iliti H f^Jhl Tkh6f cJJfi* M&fe%z_\
<kA'*h 5Wif fa faff    CLpf        §
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k^m*^H   0*^*    -Ok. ~*_AF* ■  ■   :.-P"'\ You can listen to CiTR online at www.citr.ca or on the air at 101.9 FM
Beautiful arresting beats and voices
emanating from all continents,
corners, and voids. Seldom-rattled
pocketfuls of roots and gems,
recalling other times, and other
places, to vast crossroads en route
to the unknown and the unclaim-
able. East Asia. South Asia. Africa.
The Middle East Europe. Latin
America. Gypsy. Fusion.'Always
rhythmic, always captivating.
Always crossing borders. Always
Reggae inna all styles and fashion.
Real cowshit-caught-in-yer-boo ts
British pop music from all de
cades. International pop (Japanese, French, Swedish, British, US,
etc.), 60s soundtracks and lounge.
Book your jet-set holiday now!
QUEER FM (-ilk)
Dedicated to the gay, lesbian,
bisexual, and transexual communities of Vancouver. Lots of
human interest features, background on current issues, and
great music.
Rhythmsindia features a wide
range of music from India, including popular music from the
1930s to the present, classical
music, semi-classical music such
as Ghazals and Bhajans, and also
Qawwalis, pop, and regional language numbers.
Join us in practicing the ancient
art of rising above common
thought and ideas as your host DJ
Smiley Mike lays down the latest
trance cuts to propel us into the
domain of the mystical.
________________ MONDAY
BROWNS (Eclectic)
Your favourite Brown-sters, James
and Peter, offer a savoury blend of
the familiar and exotic in a blend
of aural delights!
A mix of indie pop, indie rock,
and pseudo underground hip hop,
with your host, Jordie Sparkle.
Hosted by David B.
Underground pop for the minuses
with the occasional interview
with your host, Chris.
LET'S GET BAKED w/matt & dave
Vegan baking with "rock stars"
like Sharp Like Knives, Whitey
Houston, the Novaks and more.
A national radio service and part
of an international network of
information and action in support
of indigenous peoples' survival
and dignity. We are all volunteers
committed to promoting Native
self-determination, culturally,
economically, spiritually and otherwise. The show is self-sufficient,
without government or corporate
NEWS 101 (Talk)
A volunteer-produced, student and
community newscast featuring
news, sports and arts. Reports by
people like you. "Become the Media."
W.I.N.G.S. (Talk)
Womens International News
Gathering Service.
All the classical music you don't
n radio! A va
riety of innovative and interesting
works from the 20thand21st centuries, with an occasional neglected
masterpiece from earlier eras.
KARUSU (World)
Vancouver's longest running
primetime jazz program. Hosted
by the ever-suave, Gavin Walker.
Features at 11pm:
Feb. 5: Tonight we celebrate the
birthday of bassist Wyatt "Bull"
Ruther, a consummate sideman
who lived in Vancouver for 12
years and played with everyone
from Count Basie to Frank Sinatra to Dave Brubeck. Wyatt's
happiest times were with pianist
Erroll Garner, who is tonight's
feature. Garner, Ruther and
Drummer "Fats" Heard.. Jazz at
its best!
Feb. 12: Back in November,
a power outage shut down
CiTR, and we couldn't present
"Straight Ahead" with Oliver
Nelson (alto and tenor saxo-    -
phone) and Eric Dolphy (alto
saxophone and bass clarinet).
These two show how opposites
attract and inspire each other.
Nelson did the arrangements,
and a strong rhythm section featuring drum master Roy Haynes
make this a listening must.
Feb. 19: The Magic Triangle
was one of the most organic jazz
bands, consisting of the great
talents of tenor saxophonist Clifford Jordan, pianist Cedar Walton, bass great Sam Jones and
drummer Billy Higgins. They
played original works by all the
band members, and to this day
very few bands can touch this
group for swing and soul.
Feb. 26: Pianist Les McCann and
his trio (Herbie Lewis, bass and
Ron Jefferson, drums), called
Les McCann Limited, adds some
horns for tonight's feature.
"Blue" Mitchell on trumpet and
Stanley Turrentine and the unheralded Frank Haynes on tenor
saxophones. A great live date
called Les McCann in New York recorded at the Village Gate...
Bluesy and swinging sounds.
All the best the world of punk has
to offer, in the wee hours of the "
_______________ TUESDAY
Bluegrass, old-time music, and its
derivatives with Arthur and the
lovely Andrea BermanO
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
Sample the various flavours of
Italian folk music from north to
south, traditional and modern. '
Unprogramma bilingue che es-
plora il mondo della musica folk
Movie reviews and criticism.
En Avant La Musique! se conT
centre sur le metissage des
genres musicaux au seta d'une
francophonie ouverte a tous les
courants. This program focuses
on cross-cultural music and its
2 influence on mostly Francophone
Recommended for the strong.
(Edectic) llpEfil
Independent news hosted by
award-winning jounalists Amy
Goodman and Juan Gonzalez.
rWmitive, fuzed-out garage mayhem!
Socio-political.enviromental activist news and spoken word with
First Wednesday of every month.
Developing your relational and
individual sexual health, expressing diversity, celebrating queer-
ness, and encouraging pleasure
at all stages. Sexuality educators
Julia and Alix will quench your
search for responsible, progressive
sexuality over your life span!
Two hours of eclectic roots music.
Don't own any Birkenstocks? Allergic to patchouli? C'mon in! A
kumbaya-free zone since 1997.
(Hans Kloss)
This is pretty much the best thing
Join the sports department for
their coverage of the T-Birds.
Up the punx, down the emo!
Keepin' it real since 1989, yo.
Salario Minimo, the best rock in
Spanish show in Canada.
Trawling the trash heap of
years' worth of rock n' roll debris.
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.
With host Robert Robot. One part
classic electronics. One part plun-
derphonicmixnmatch. Two parts
new and experimental techno.
One part progressive hip-hop. Mix
and add informative banter and
news for taste. Let stand. Serve,
and enjoy.
ANOIZE (Noise)
Luke Meat irritates and educates
through musical deconstruction.
SWEET 'N' HOT (Jazz)
Sweet dance music and hot j azz
from the 1920s, 30s, and 40s.
Punk rock, indie pop, and whatever else I deem worthy. Hosted by
a closet nerd.
Zoom a little zoom on the My Science Project rocket ship, piloted
by your host, Julia, as we navigate
eccentric, under-exposed, always
relevant and plainly cool scientific
research, technology, and poetry
(submissions welcome).
Music of the world, with a special
dance around African drumbeats.
My passion is music from the African Diaspora. Catch up on the latest
and reminisce on classic spins.
Experimental, radio-art, sound
collage, field recordings, etc. Recommended for the insane.
RADIO HELL (Uve Music)
Live From Thunderbird Radio
Hell showcases local talent...LIVE!
Honestly, don't even ask about the
technical side of this.
Email requests to:
Top notch crate digger DJ Avi
Shack mixes underground hip
hop, old school classics, and original breaks.
RADIO ZERO (Eclectic)
Independent Canadian music
from almost every genre imaginable covering the east coast to
the left coast and all points ta between. Yes, even Montreal!
David "Love" Jones brings you the
best new and old jazz, soul, Latin,
samba, bossa and African music
from around the world.
Beats mixed with audio from old
films and clips from the internet.
10% discount for callers who are
certified insane. Hosted by Chris D.
_______■ SATURDAY
Studio guests, new releases, British comedy sketches.'folk music
calendar, and ticket giveaways.
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 Rattle-
head, Geoff the Metal Pimp and
guests do the damage..
From backwoods delta low-down
slide to urban harp honks, blues,
and blues roots with your hosts
Jim, Andy and Paul.
The best of music, news, sports,
and commentary from around
the local and international Latin
American communities.
News, arts, entertainment and
music for the Russian community,
local and abroad.
An exciting chow of Drum n' Bass
with DJs Jimungle & Bias on the
ones and twos, plus guests. Listen
for give-aways every week. Keep
feelin da beatz.
Mixed Apes Radio
<- fj^> Since its inception, as chronicled in the pages of Discorder, the Mixed Apes
, ?"¥> project has been about getting you music-loving souls to communicate with
r each other through the fine art of the mixtape. In case you're new here, here's
the basic idea: after lovingly creating a mix of fresh and exciting sounds,
audiophiles from here to Halifax leave their CDln a public place, waiting for
an unsuspecting individual to find the surprise of their life. The honourable
tinder will then make a mix of their own, and thus an anonymous musical exchange is perpetuated. Scroll down the page at discorder.ca/mixedapeS to see the recent chronicles.
CiTR would like to take this concept one step further by inviting you to create your own
Mixed Ape for us. The idea is simple: make your twenty-song Mixed Ape on CD, ape or, for the
more digitally inclined, mp3. Submit your creation to CiTR, and we'll play it on the air in all
its ragged glory. With Mixed Apes radio, new DJs will be required to play the mixes you submit
'as part of their training.
Be sure to include your name (or alias if you're the shy type) along with a track list and
brief description of the songs you've chosen (a theme or commonality is always a good place
to start) to make things a little more interesting. Remember kids, let's keep things within the
parameters of good taste and good sportsmanship; if you're a regular (or irregular) Ustener
of CiTR you'll know what we're talking about. Nothing you'll hear on Top 40 radio will be accepted, nothing with explicit or objectionable content will be considered. However, no genre
or style will be discounted, and no idea is too far fetched.
"Why should I do this? What makes me so special?" The answer is this: we want to.get
to know you as a supporter of CiTR. We want you to be a part of what makes us a distinctive
cultural force in Vancouver's increasingly bland and stuffy radio landscape. Not such a bad
thing really, to be a part of history and have a whole lot of fun doing it. So whaddya say, are
you in?
Submissions for Mixed Apes on CiTR should be sent to:
•   Mixed Apes
c/o CiTR
Room #233 6138 SUB Blvd.
Vancouver BC
Or in mp3 format to: citrprogrammi_g@club.ams.ubc.ca (since the size of file will be
quite large, it is recommended you use YouSendlt or SendSpace to transfer your files).
We hope to launch our show by mid-March, so get crackin' genius!  0
Bryce Dunn
CiTR Program Coordinator
Art Director.
Discorder   39 CURE YR
Othw Staff Undef^
The Zulu Sim Lamp:
Lowe of Dfegtitns - s/\ CDEP
Bonnie Prince Billy-Lay and Love
The Broken Westofeairt Go On, I'll
Go On CD
Camera Obscura - tflxwte Could Kill
Ghost - In Stonily Nights &;>i
teat take Swimmers - Han* In the %
Dirty Ground LP
James Yorkston- The Year of fNfPi
Leopard CD/LP
Herbert-100 lbs CO
Funkstorung- Appendix CD
Alasdair Roberts- The Amber Gathers
Youth Group- Casino Twilight Dogs CD
Kristin Hersh-Leam to Sing Like A
Star CD
Bobby Conn-King For A Day CD
Wincing the Night Away
5 CD
Perfect pop precise
times! Eve_fg^§__
rS~_lck af^rgvagma-".
imeto's-efining indie rock acts. This, toeirjjBjj3_arid
release fo); ^#cfe0m up everything that is lowaM?' *■
atwut Iwo8 Mercer and companyVtranscendent songwriting skills —
' clever arrangements^ nimble guitar hooks, baroque piano, and of course
. soaring vocals a la^tratocent angels longing for more tee on earth to
- discover the sirnp&^o^ol -fe&ack on the planet. Adding to fbWriix,
Hie sun keep1j!ftFig_ Jrteresting with a slew of new sonic gestures
Including sweeping psychedelic orchestration, fuzzed-out riffage and
even the odd refreshing hiprhop-esque be#_top by and check out this
i record as certainly it wiH be one of the defining listens of this young year.
CD iaM__W 14.98
Visitations CD
Consider Roky Eridaa*. ipping toroufjh the
Texas tumbteweeds asfift writes his Classic
I jfjsyche ballad You're Be— Miss Ma. Perhaps
--orientation andli^pej&etifih can producaH
■$tme of the most ewBCJSfe8$onlj,resutts. If "&
J&§ certainly The CHnlc fta^pfiB^ed them- 0.
" S-ws ftead-long into to&4g^e$ storms of po\j^^emeiie%n&tJ
and now return with this hes%aes»«eejd designate S^uf§|e|setk1
the most seasoned ears! Featon«Mt^_^J^ckstf]a1^ the full . ■.
%B^behsiBen Missed out white noisf_albds to .eepe etoereai hn1_b$__'
to hardened thunder worshipping rock anthems, fifflf ate ^^^ft^ffl
band torjte;8geiaMlfWt_tfons solely rearnTwltieiFp_-S as etw^T
toe finest _^|>®Sfe^l^elFW^ofmy^&|fi^^^^^- '.*&&
Hissing Fauna, Are you the;
O&gKJfKfalt _jjte^rjrsS%,i(|se>hs, GA   /„
band Was becomelSf^-cffed for their
dance party-inducing live shows and critically ,
lauded for 2004s Satanic Panic in tha Atttf' .
and 2005s The SaalamBc Twins. Now, of Montreal have createdjij|||
-*f**Br-defininp masteigjaqg with Hissing Fauna, Are Yob The M
Destroyer? It's an^Ssfefible and remarlcajjjefftum, sounding $§a4oB'5,
js^te^&on of the erratic indie-disco ipMas of The Sunlandic Twins. •
I CD packaging^ ailSiSque die-cut fold<-out with original David Barms art.
^H^w^.^M^' triple-gatefold jackei^s1|tJbBUS£-
^«L#   2U> 22.98 ,
Fl^asilafetelrt^^mertGa, this disc
fitHn" Swedish poR#^fen4^it everyone
|; by surprise aYifravajWfhe critic's year end
Ssts! Their upbeat whistle driven single "Young
I lefte" wasone cfme most irrfectious pop
* Soirtgs'O^fef^teind certainly one trjatwje 3* J
hdeV^i^^w©' toe werttJ© a search, read ft?«oraments! Kids
in Romania, Brazil, Japan,andCanattMre-ll over Peter, BJorn and
John's groovy mbc of ittaeaja, bongos;, twbblmg fo-fl bass, super addictive back-beat and BJafraHiBBjal Ifics) I a'"!Mfttost fllrttlfir "^.fijlr,
music's universal appeal aVvn__s a agh that globaiizanon an. music ■
■ doesn.t necessarily always equate to Brittany and IPaiDe plastering the ;
village with their corporate conglomerate faces' Simply put Pater, Bfarit"
and John have created an amazingly catchy record that lives up to all the
hype—so why keep it a secret?!?! Enjoy. AVAILABLE FEB 6™.
1 been such fervor regarding
the launch of a rock outfiton
Chicago's predominantly ultra-hip ele
Inspired by the ambition of fusing the lulling hypno
states induced by ambient and minimalist music with
the Wang and propulsion ofgarage rock, this Atlanta
based outfit have a knack for creating spellbinding
sonic landscapes fused with dense shards of melodic
nojsefThis album sits nicely alongside someJPJgE "J
. heady landmark listens mciudthg Daydream Nation,
The Perfect Prescription and even Tago Mago. Like
these forefather platters, Deerhaatar's Cryptograms
sfinjehow channels a spiritual vibe that speaks to
music's visceral quality to stir arid, move one emotionally. This is a sure pick best of 2007!
Opportunity CD
W-HMc^ftting ^xivm ,^0.
from San Fran '%£&_%
Jfterinoltan be a pajriftt* '■=
jpnajjfeir last W^TO""
lowers .JFop'was hands down a major platter on"Wm
Mffif^lf's bombastic spastic no-wave meets pop-
^kdewnshuelions Mewaout minds.And so, when
rBJJ^lfpllBuilty appeared on the*, fjgt&on., naturally
a-SiiMtBSEese guys were capa_t^|-Well, patience
".'isSa^irtH-, 'i^Oms enough these he^^InlJnBW^^
Jw^fe:h8we pTeeJing once again as tf«^aS^^
llpjftps hlmftpped fhefajtejOnce more and ih^SiipSf,
*%^*||jpic suites triaJThMTriusic the numbe^Jje*'*
I ra&fbr^iD.! This is"s^^. Their songs are rrm^T
I bog^fg rjiidtes of melody, white noise, and intense^
| mytornteStilaerstorms * how it alliemes together ™
1 so subHn^|§.a miracle—^bjft,one%^ll can believe
in. Zulu's Recommended Usfeftf*. f'
Woke Myself Up
Peihsfps Js^Mff^ount      I
wu^f^'w^ the lucky
enchanting JrfrSwe appear-
ance last year here at Zulu. If so, the#$erJ6flly you.
know that Dahon has one of the most emotionally
charged voices in toe contemporary Canadian
singer/songwriter scene. Hjjjpress release aptly sites |
Cat Power's Moon Pix, Leonard Cohen s Songs of
love And Hate, and Joni Mitchell's Bine as touc_Caj
Intones, and clearly itMta'sjlloltc&to imagine that kk-l
with this intimate fiSIKy Dsten-future generations'will' ^
one day compaDytoernseA^s'to Julie herseff..Leose^
disorienj^p^^aumlng yet also instanjh; invltmg
and enthralling, this new cotfedtort of asogBirlll held
together ^^e^Musw^a^hjrT*^ which
with^eh release matures. Sbnrj out tracks include
%M«»'aml Me amiMf Friend. Bravo.
Some Loud
Thunder CD
her or not you like
f toe music made by this upstart
liladelphia indie rock outfit, you certainly
npressed by their meteoric rise through
8 ranks — thanks in part to an
erstanding of the communicative
power of fte.w^jand sites such as myspace, pitch-
forkmediaisew^^Tiusic. Self-released, (be your
own boss) 1iisiMph_ore record picks up exactly
TTO|ftM^ic scene is crazy.
One week you can be a
nowhere band writing your first batch ofj^^l in
toe practice space, and the nextyou-carlj^^tome
bigwig lawyers office reviewing offers from record
labels alM>yer. No strangers to indie m^^ogjgers,
Lavender Diamond, with their dreamy n^^Sino
driven ballads arid etRefeal vocals, have become
Matador Records? flrs^g c^ch of 2007—and
certainly one of thff^D^ificIriated rele-fifMf the
i^r. Fresh off a UK tour supp*Drfij[ig The
Decemberists, this LAi based ottrtet o%r§Hp 4
■" fegyjlasers that were previo^g^availa^oj|f
^gp^e band's website or afee^fof tbA-H^ridary
^ifjPWBrmances. Channdfnjj .tMloow pensive
^suhis^fc* bliss of early Joni Mltt$#v|fh the
more^ine^uhgling electric ea^ittSffawport
Convention, Dylan and the cMr rel^f^tsiders,
Lavender Diamond's Tha CaH-ipa^HMs an
incendiary passage through toe hafcplDnic heav-
5 I      J     k
CD 16.98
CDEP 6198
Chorus CD i
A gam it is our^reatpi
risure to in_<|dt»e you
jitoone okjt&ose holy
sqnl^^M^e to consistently fly under toe radar
of ttj3n_{ream critical support Get this, half toe
j|pii||pis in Texas while toe other half, call London
||j|pf Get tots, if you are into a shambling mixture
pGFgenres and instrumentation all finely tuned into a
blissful symphony of prog, folk-rock and outsider
psyche, then The Enemy Chorus is a must hear. Get
this, much like Canada's own The Band, these guys
are often hired out to support poetic types including
Micah P. Hinson. Get this, The Earlies get tons of
hits on their myspace page! Get this.
CD 16.98
ODES in paint mmm
A coHab-Pafive snow by Daniel Fisher and Kyia KM.
Omttg SttrAy Feta-ary If HI MM.Mnor^
Zulu Records
1972-1976 W 4th Ave
Vancouver, BC
tel 604.738.3232


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