The party in my mouth

This is what it feels like every time that first sip of Dad's root beer hits my tongue, only Bizzaro David Bowie and Michelle Pfeiffer are replaced with Chris Colohan and Laura Barrett

The Noises I Hold Dear

These guys put out a new e.p recently called The Year. It's two-piece math pop at its finest, and human beings at their nicest. Check'm out.

Hitting the Coast

Canada's East coast gets a ton of exposure. Bands like Dog Day, Wintersleep and Land of Talk tour and have enough press behind them that Nova Scotia is treated like the best kept geographical secret of this fine country. The West coast definitely has its own musical treasures, too, but Halifax seems to have a lot more familial based bands, while bands in the West play their cowboy roles wholeheartedly- acting as lone rangers who pop up when you least expect them to.


Ladyhawk, for example, I'd never heard of until I saw them play a friend's loft in Montreal. These fellows play fist pumping anthems for the hard-party crowd, and the crowd did indulge- people were riding on each others' shoulders half-naked while the band wailed through a fantastical and sweat-drenched jangly set. Their self-titled release, and most recent album Shots is a pretty damn accurate representation of their shows, only not as loud.

On the even crazier side, two-piecers Run Chico Run have scared the fuck out of me on more than one occasion. It's not their song content or style that freaks me out- these guys range from the sensible rockiness to the post-punkability- it's the ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous amount of talent these two possess. There are millions of talentless hacks out there- and these guys hog all that talent for themselves. Have you ever seen a drummer play keyboard and sing at the same time? How about a drummer and a guitar player who can do all of that. Both of them. Ridiculous. Here's on of their equally fantastic music videos:





Kids These Days were also great. I say 'were' because they haven't really released anything in the past four years since their side project Octoberman became more of a full-time dealie. Their full length, All These Interruptions is like a summer adaptation of a musical written by old Radiohead.

Then of course, there's the Thrush Hermit song, The Day We Hit The Coast- which is technically by an East Coast band, but its about how much they love the West Coast...so...I guess it ends up somewhere in the prairies? I don't know.

Brotherly Love and the City

Cowlick -Eternia Hernia (Down To The Point Records, 2008)

Brothers Dylan and Jackson Hudecki have roughly a decade of musical bloodlines between them, but it's their family connection that shines through, they manage to match each others' sounds so well. Dylan letting loose a flurry of fuzzed-up bass riffs that are felt more in your gut than your ear, and Jackson executing machinegun drum rolls with heavy hits to match each chord. Cowlick surfs a sea of genres almost flawlessly- skipping from balls-out rock to modest piano instrumentals. After each listen, you notice more and more finesse matching the initial wall of distortion- the little synth growls that makes Eternia into a layer cake of style and rhythm.

Mike Long - Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell (Hollywood Press, 2008)

This is a movie that I can't help but look at from more angles than its shot from. Seeing your hometown with high-definition eyes, from a perspective your routine doesn’t provide is something I enjoyed, not to mention a large chunk of the movie's soundtrack is scored by one Luke Warm of Slow Hand Motem/Motese family fame, so the aural accompaniment adds yet another unique viewpoint. Though I could do without the religious context and sometimes long-winded introspection, both aspects still provided alternative outlooks to consider while the visuals slowly slid by. Every shot frames the city as a picturesque utopia- which I think is more than it deserves.

Punks Simplified by your friends, F'ed Up

Gleaned from Looking for Gold:

Gutter Punks: Can't afford to make mohawks so they have natty dreads and live on moving trains and also in "gutters".


Whacktivists: Are "punks" but don't listen to music - are more interested in making politics. Have punk style but listen to Indigo Girls and Ratatat.


Skinheads: The racist kind - are fat and wear Lonsdale clothes from outlet malls and have short girlfriends. Listen to obscure UK and Canadian racist OI music on CDRs


Posers: Listen to punk music like the Sex Pistols but also Rage Against the Machine. Are mostly in highschool. They wear punk/goth clothing like leather jackets (new only) but also black bell bottom jeans and weird shaped sunglasses


Old Punks: Wear 20 year old tshirts because they spent all their money on records and have no jobs so they can't afford to look sharp. Have strange jobs and did zines a long time ago. Have grey hair and/or are balding and make everyone else feel depressed at shows and worried that they are looking at their own future.

Hardcore Punks: Wear only band tshirts and cut off shorts. Very short cropped hair. Super clean and carry deodorant in a bag with them.


Hipster Hardcore Punks: Like above, but also wear "limited" baseball caps, xxxlarge tshirts and "limited" shows. Only listen to Lil' Wayne and some modern Hardcore bands.


Indie Punks: Wear grunge clothes, but a little tighter. Move very slowly and smoke lots of weed and are super "Creative". Also ride bikes everywhere.


Punks: Who knows what they look like, or who they are.


Hipster punks: Like mostly dance music like Uffie and Daft Punk, but also some punk bands that are amazing (Fucked Up) and are able to transcend boundaries. Wear mostly clothes from American Apparel, and also only work at American Apparel, or Vice Magazine (interning only)


Fucked Up: Wear only free Fred Perry, Evisu, Burberry, Ben Sherman, and G9 Harrington Jackets, and other selected vintage styles.


Fucked Up's full length Hidden World is fantastic and you should buy it. They've released a million records in the past and have another coming out in the fall called The Chemistry of Common Life. Dig'm.

Hooks in Heads

Humid and smelly, sporadically rainy. Summer in the city. This kind of weather is best punctuated by pop songs and pink lemonade- those songs that sum up summer nights best spent dancing under patio lighting with your shoes off.


The Nerves put out a four song EP in 1976 that was just introduced to me a few weeks ago, and though it clocks in at just under eight minutes, every song is so damn catchy that you can't help but sing along after the second or third listen. Wicked vocal harmonies and classic broken heart lyrics.

Cain and Abel (?-2008, Acton Ontario) were a bunch of hardcore kids who decided to worry less about hair flips and worry more about having a damn fun time on stage (so I guess not worry at all?). They released two EPs, Mosey On, and Keep On Keepin' On simultaneously, sharing songs on both albums, but taking an acoustic approach on Mosey, and a full band approach on Keepin'. Singer/Guitarist Peter van Helvoort's voice falls somewhere between John Fogerty and Robert Plant, conjuring memories of those hot summers in the seventies when I wasn't born yet. Their video Sing It, With Some Soul (directed by Mitch Fillion of Hamilton band Kilhuminzu):



Summer wouldn't be complete without a healthy does of fist-pumping pop-punk, and Burlington's St. Alvia Cartel make sure every tambourine, gang vocal, and organ chord is drenched in sunshine and sticky heat. Though their self-titled release is a year old now, it seems fresh off the press and onto my aural barbeque. These guys are label-mates with fantastic ska-punks The Planet Smashers, and the much shittier ska-punks, The Johnstones- but they manage to hold their own aggressive pop style steadfast.

Jun-jun-junnnnnn

Torche – Meanderthal (Hydrahead/Robotic Empire, 2008)

After spending a large part of their career establishing their ability to play sludgy stoner rock, Torche decide to apply their skull-shaking distortion to songs that are twice as fast and complex as any of their past releases. Meanderthal is abrupt, blunt force trauma to the eardrums that refuses to slow down until it chugs to a stop with the album’s last two tracks. The opening track, Triumph of Venus lifts off and sets a pace that carries from every dropped chord to harmonized anthem. This album has totally smashed any notions I had about what this band was capable of creating. If you like loud, buy this now.

Yew ain't frum 'round here, are ye?

I will be the first person in line to kick country music in the face (were it a person). There is only so much twang that the human ear can process without being up to ones earlobes in moonshine and support our troops patriotism. Accessible country music is a rare commodity, but it is out there- and it can start up hootenannies at the first pluck of a banjo.



O'Death (New York) blur the line between punk and country without a single drop of grain alcohol. Quick-ass brushed drums, banjo and Tom Waits-y growls mixed with gang yelps and fiddles shooting off all over the place...shit, I don't know if I should be moshing or not. These guys have a wicked full-length called Head Home that is really worth a listen. You can buy it here. They'll be recording with Alex Newport some time soon, and he is responsible for some of At the Drive-In(!) and The Locusts'(!!) stuff, so you just know that ho-downs are shoe-ins.



Locally (somewhat) The Deadly Snakes (1996-2006) poured out wicked born-again country rock tunes album after album, though their 2003 release of Ode to Joy is still their catchiest, stomping-alongest (Grammar! yeah!) record as of yet, their whole discography is pretty shit-kickin'. Check out 'Oh My Bride' on their myspace for an example of these folks at their best.

Guephically, Richard Laviolette makes crowds swoon with his whiskey rock anthems of preachers, pirates, protesters and pumkin heads. His split album with math-folker Chris Yang Hands and Feats is up for grabs here. Richard's first solo disc A Little Less Like A Rock, A Little More Like Home can be bought from the man himself at one of his shows, which you should go see. He recently stopped by my apartment and treated me (and you) to a quiet little folk song: