2 Shows in 2 Nights: The Grizz & Chad V.

Random thoughts about last week’s Grizzly Bear show at the Vogue:

• I was feeling lukewarm about this concert during the first few songs; it felt like the mystery in Grizzly Bear’s music had lost some of its allure. That didn’t last. The band kept doing amazing things: singing radiant harmonies, incorporating unique sounds (especially from the guitar of Daniel Rossen and the multiple instruments of Chris Taylor (bass, flute, bass clarinet and sax), and generally cranking up the sonic power. So before long I was back in love.
• Speaking of sonic power, I think the key difference between the band’s show at the Commodore last May and this one is the latter’s bigger sound. I can easily picture Grizzly Bear delivering that big sound at Thunderbird Stadium someday, just like Radiohead has done twice. It will be interesting to see if the band makes that leap to being an A-list alternative band, and whether their music will change as a result. My guess is they’ll retain their integrity and originality.
• I often feel old at shows, but I felt very old at the Vogue. It seemed like everyone was twentysomething. In fact I ran into a young woman I know who epitomizes that generation. She was with her boyfriend who looks like a total surfer dude. He complimented me on my Skulls Skates hoodie, but maybe he was secretly thinking, “Who does this old poseur fart think he is, wearing a Skates hoodie?” I hope I’m still going to loud alternative-indie shows when I’m a hearing aid-wearing octogenarian.

Thanks to J for capturing video, at the usual high quality, of Grizzly Bear:

Speaking of youth, the fresh-faced opening band – The Morning Benders – was a pleasant surprise. The Benders’ short but catchy songs and the musicality/stage presence of frontman Chris Chu won me over. I also loved the fact that two Asians are in the group (don’t ask me why – just check the name of this blog). Asian power!

The Morning Benders’ “Waiting For a War”:

I waffled about going to Chad VanGaalen’s concert, happening the night after the Grizz, but I plunked down my cash in the end. I’m glad I did. The Calgarian gave a solid, if not spectacular performance at the Rio Theatre. I love his high-pitched voice (shades of Neil Young), imaginative songwriting and offbeat character. VanGaalen and his band’s impromptu cover of Technotronic’s “Pump Up The Jam” also scored points with me.

There was a lot of talent at the Rio, just based on award nominations and collaborations with award nominees. VanGaalen was a Polaris Music Prize finalist. His keyboard/flautist/backup vocalist Julie Fader is in Great Lake Swimmers, another Polaris finalist. The quirky opener Castlemusic, aka Jennifer Castle from Toronto, has collaborated with F***ed Up, the band that won the Polaris last month and Elliott Brood, yet another finalist. If the music coming from the high-up Rio stage was any indication, the Canadian indie scene is in good hands.

Another vid from J – Chad and band:

VIFF Music Docs

I choose films to watch at the Vancouver International Film Festival the same way I choose books to buy at a bookstore: I go straight to the music section! Call me one-dimensional (and yes, I know I am), but the only way I can deal with the wealth of fine cinema at VIFF is to just see music documentaries. Gone are the carefree days when I could see a gazillion movies at the festival. So if I have to prioritize, it may as well be with music docs, a genre I adore. Now that VIFF is over for another year, here’s a look back at three films I caught.

The Man Who Bottled Clouds

At the risk of sounding simplistic, one way I assess a documentary’s effectiveness is how much I learn from watching it. By that measure, The Man Who Bottled Clouds unequivocally succeeds. It tells the story of Humberto Teixeira, a Brazilian renaissance man who was a great composer, lawyer, politician and bon vivant. Teixeira and singer/accordionist Luis Gonzaga – both from Northeastern Brazil – did more than anyone to develop and popularize the influential baião style of Brazilian music. They wrote more than 400 songs, including the classic “Asa Branca”. I was engrossed with the film, which adroitly weaves together interviews and performances from the likes of Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa and David Byrne. You can still catch the flick, as one of the VIFF Repeats, on Oct. 20, 6:30 pm at the Vancity Theatre.

Genius Within: The Inner Life of Glenn Gould

I know next to nothing about classical music. But I do know that Glenn Gould was a genius on the piano. Most of my classical collection consists of his recordings. I’ve always found it soothing to listen to his amazing technique and lyricism. I’ve also been fascinated with Gould’s persona as as eccentric artist. The film thoroughly covers all of these aspects of his life. Some points the film effectively conveyed:

• Gould played piano like a machine – his contrapuntal lines seemed impossible. But he was a machine with soul.
• As a young man, he was handsome and charming. Scenes of a young Gould reminded me of the images of a dashing young Chet Baker in Let’s Get Lost. They didn’t look alike at all, but they both had a raw beauty.
• Gould’s eccentricities got extreme. Not going to the hospital to see his dying mother, because of a fear of germs, was over-the-top.
• He was way ahead of his time with his CBC radio documentaries, which were painstakingly constructed.
• Gould’s death from a massive stroke at 50 was a tragic loss – there was a lot of profound music still to come from him.

Ashes of American Flags: Wilco Live

The other two films completely absorbed me with their rare archival footage and intriguing minutiae of their subjects. The Wilco documentary didn’t captivate me like that, but it was still satisfying as a live concert film. Shot at legendary American venues like the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and Tipitina’s in New Orleans, the film documents Wilco’s powerful chemistry. Ashes of American Flags provides insights about the musicality of the band members, just by zooming in on each of them, but it especially affirms guitarist Nels Cline’s virtuosity. As for frontman Jeff Tweedy, the too-short doc captures his essence as an unlikely, sharp-witted and vocally engaging alt rock star.

A Gift from Aimee Mann

I’ve decided that there’s no in-between with Aimee Mann: generally speaking, people have either never heard of her or they’re obsessively into her music. I’m squarely in the latter camp. I have all of her albums and I’ve seen her perform live about five times. When I got the chance to interview her for the Vancouver Courier, I was incredibly nervous. More nervous than I was with pop star Bryan Adams, jazz star Diana Krall and Indian classical giant Ravi Shankar. Why? Because I admire her as an affecting singer/songwriter who has a refreshing outsider attitude when it comes to the music industry. So I didn’t want to stumble and ask a dumb question. (Thankfully, the interview went swimmingly.)

For us hardcore Aimee Mann followers, her concert at the Commodore last week was a gift. I’m describing it that way because it wasn’t a typical show, where the artist mainly does material from a recent release. That wasn’t going to be the case because Mann’s last album, @#%&*! Smilers, came out in mid-2008. Instead, Mann came up with an interesting approach: the first half featured songs she doesn’t typically perform live, from throughout her catalogue. Mann performed those tunes with just two keyboardists/multi-instrumentalists: Jebin Bruni and Jamie Edwards. In the second half they played nothing but requests, which audience members wrote down on little pieces of paper. Vancouver drummer Barry Mirochnick, who’s currently with Neko Case and has also played with Veda Hille, joined the musicians for these songs on a minimalist kit.

This was a dream scenario for me. I knew every single tune performed that night, and familiarity is comforting. It was also a treat to hear rarities like “Nightmare girl” and way-back gems like “Amateur” and even “Voices Carry”, which dates back to Mann’s ‘Til Tuesday period.

Then there were the keyboards scattered around the stage. Smilers featured Bruni and Edwards on keys and not a single electric guitar note, which was a departure for Mann because she always had strong axemen in her band. Mann is still in that keyboard space, so for me as a keyboard lover, it was wonderful to hear these proficient players create resonant textures. As for Mann’s voice, she started a bit rough but quickly got better as the night progressed. In between songs, she was at her engaging best, self-deprecating and funny, dropping F-bombs freely.

It would have been fun to hear a cover, but she declared at the beginning of the all-requests portion that they weren’t going to do “Free Bird” or “Taking Care of Business”, covers she did at her last two Commodore concerts. And she didn’t follow through on the repeated requests for Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher”. The night was all about her timeless songs, her singular voice and the band’s musicianship, so nothing more was needed.

Mann, Bruni and Edwards doing “Save Me” – from the Magnolia soundtrack – at Seattle’s Moore Theatre, the night before the Vancouver gig:

Bonus links:

A review of Mann’s Commodore show, with some good pics, at Discover Vancouver

Photos of the show at Guttersnipe

R.I.P. Mercedes

An icon of Latin American folk music – the great Argentine singer Mercedes Sosa – died Sunday. Thousands of people attended her funeral and the president of Argentina, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, declared three days of national mourning. In Canada, it would be like Leonard Cohen leaving us – that’s how enormous a loss this is for Argentina. As a leading figure in the Nueva Canción (new song) movement that combined folk and other styles with political protest, she was truly the voice of the people.

In 2002, I interviewed Sosa for the Vancouver Courier. It wasn’t a typical telephone interview. The usual procedure for “phoners” is the writer calls the subject directly (or vice versa) and conducts an interview. But Sosa only spoke Spanish so a translator was needed. Complicating matters was that fact that another journalist wanted to interview Sosa, and we both needed translation. So the promoter of Sosa’s concert at the Orpheum arranged for a group interview, with a translator present. It took place at a beautiful house in Point Grey. I wasn’t told whose house it was, but I spied a piece of mail that had the name of the person who lived there: a well-known CBC broadcaster.

The interview went well. I asked most of the questions, which Sosa answered thoughtfully and the translator translated thoroughly. Here’s an excerpt from my story on Sosa: “We’re huddled around a speaker phone that connects us to Sosa in her Buenos Aires apartment overlooking Avenida 9 de Julio, known as the widest avenue in the world. At one point Sosa answers a question by doing what she does best: sing. We collectively smile as the 66-year-old icon vocalizes with a clear and rich tone that resonates through the speaker.”

Sosa singing her signature song: “Gracias a la Vida”:

Finally: The Pet Shop Boys live in Vancouver

A week ago the Pet Shop Boys performed in Vancouver for the first time in their 28-year career, and I was there. This was a big deal for me – PSB is one of my all-time favourite pop groups. For years I’ve been captivated by the Brit duo’s dance/electro-pop sound, their delicious irony and their ambiguous personas.

But in the days leading up to the sold-out concert, when I mentioned to some people that I was going to the show, they looked at me with blank expressions. I think they were befuddled by how Chris, the jazz/world music/alternative-indie rock loving music snob could possibly like the Pet Shop Boys.

The Boys caught my ear in the late ’80s and early ’90s. It wasn’t so much the music that engaged me at first, but the lyrics. If you paid attention, you could hear the social commentary about Thatcherism in songs like “Opportunities (Let’s Make Lots of Money”), and “Being Boring” perfectly encapsulated the overwhelming sense of loss in the age of AIDS. Then I fell for Tennant’s voice, which is both ironic and melancholic. Finally, Lowe’s layers of keyboard sounds and PSB’s driving, dancefloor-friendly beats grabbed me and never let go.

The concert matched my expectations: the music struck the right chords; the show was dynamic and visually striking; and it was a fun party. There were moments when I was a bit uncomfortable with the absence of a band – aside from Lowe’s keyboard playing and occasional electronic drumming, and a few trumpet blasts from backup singers/dancers, there wasn’t a lot of live music being played. Pre-programmed synths and drum machines figured prominently in the mix. But harping on that would be missing the point. The Pet Shop Boys are all about Tennant and Lowe, and the feeling of release they create with their evocative songs. By that measure, the long-awaited concert had all the elements I had hoped for.

Neil Tennant at The Picky Pet on West Georgia. I found a link to the photo on the PSB Twitter page, where this intriguing tweet went out two nights before the show: “Fascism alive and well in Vancouver. 2 id’s required to get in a club. Pathetic”

“It’s a Sin” at the Vancouver show:

The End of In the Key of Charles

It’s over. The final show of In the Key of Charles, hosted by Gregory Charles, aired on CBC Radio last Sunday. I’m kind of sad about this.

I first heard the show about a year ago, when I was going on runs near the beach. After my early Sunday morning runs, I would hop in the car and listen to CBC Radio 2, where I heard something different between 10 am and noon. The playlist was diverse: from pop to classical to show tunes to rock. In between songs, a sweet-sounding man was whimsically talking about the music while also spontaneously breaking into song and playing piano – beautifully. Who is this guy?, I wondered.

It turned out to be Charles, who’s a star in Quebec. He’s known for being able to play and sing virtually any song that’s requested of him. The formula for In the Key of Charles was simple: Charles sat in his Montreal apartment with his producer Scott and technician Pierre, and devoted each week’s show to a theme: “right and wrong”, “pets”, “sleep”, “secrets”, etc. Songs were strategically chosen to fit the theme.

One week the theme was “thinking”, and Charles played a tune by Dido, who I had never paid any attention to before. I had always considered Dido a lightweight artist – someone you’d hear at the dentist’s office. Definitely not cool. But the song, “Don’t Think of Me”, got my attention. In fact I became semi-obsessed with it. I don’t know if the song grabbed me because of its merits or the fact that Charles played it and talked about the bitter lyrics. But the Dido incident exemplified why I became a regular listener of In the Key of Charles. He always conveyed a pure love for music, without a trace of snobbery. While he got schmaltzy at times in his song selection and in his own playing/singing, his openness to all music left an impression on me. Thanks to Charles, I’m going to try to be less of a judgmental music snob. I’ll let you know how that goes.

The theme of the last show was, appropriately, “The End”. The very last song was Chris de Burgh’s “Transmission Ends”. Ciao Gregory Charles – my Sundays won’t be the same without you.

Charles’ hit single “I Think of You” (“Don’t Think of Me” in reverse), which doesn’t exactly ease up on the schmaltz quotient, but I still like it:

Dan Mangan at the Cultch

I caught one of the two sold-out concerts that Vancouver’s Dan Mangan performed at the renovated Cultch last weekend, and it was a glorious show.

Everything came together that night: Mangan’s well-honed confidence as an impactful performer; his ease and sense of humour when talking to the audience between songs; Mangan’s rapport with his strong band; the rare treat of hearing three horn players and a three-member string section expand the sonic palette; the added bonus of having Shayne Koyczan in the house to inject his spoken word mastery; being back in the beloved Cultch for one of the first concerts since it was massively renovated; and the euphoria of being at a sold-out show for a hometown boy who’s making good.

Seven months ago I hadn’t even heard of Mangan. Then a new friend talked glowingly about his music and eventually recommended that I go to the Cultch show. Only after buying tickets for the gig did I actually listen to his music, starting with Mangan’s Roboteering ep and then his debut album, Postcards and Daydreaming. I liked what I heard, especially on Roboteering. There’s a fine line between what Mangan does and what someone like David Gray does, and Mangan is on the right side of that singer/songwriter line. By right, I mean he avoids clichés that are an occupational hazard of his genre, and he stays connected to an alternative DIY sensibility.

This is quite the time for Mangan: he’s deservedly getting rave reviews for his new album, Nice, Nice, Very Nice, including one in the Province that ranked him at the level of Nick Drake! (Dan’s good, but not that good. Not yet anyway.) Plus there he was on the cover of the Georgia Straight. I imagine that receiving this much attention could make it challenging to remain grounded. Just listening to Mangan talk during the show – he’s so damn likable – makes me think the 26-year-old won’t go Kanye West (i.e. ego trip) any time soon.

My usual source for videos of gigs is out-of-town and missed the show (which she would have loved), but I found some decents vids that someone took:

Mangan’s “hit single”, “Robots”, which he somehow managed to F-up, forcing him to stop mid-song and start again. But the way he handled it was so endearing that no one cared:

“Tina’s Glorious Comeback”:

The very intense “Tragic Turn of Events/Move Pen Move”, featuring the performance poetry of Shayne Koyczan:

Douglas College Summer Jazz Intensive (and other summer related stuff)

I just finished a summer jazz course at Douglas College, and it was really fun. I got a chance to meet various well-known musicians from Vancouver including Ross Taggart, Kent Wallace and Bernie Arai. It was a week full of musical intensity for all of us students. I met 5 other drummers, a few of whom I could definitely relate with in terms of the music I like. I don’t think anybody at this camp was a total beginner, and it seemed like at least half of these people were really good at their instrument. So after my very short audition, I was put in the intermediate combo. We played a few songs including “Blue Monk”, “Maiden Voyage”, and “Recordame”. Also, we got 2 master classes from Bernie, who was very down to earth and is an amazing drummer as well.

We played 3 concerts, one at the Java Jazz Cafe, one at the Cellar, and one at the college. The one at the Java Jazz Cafe was pretty fun, since it was a jam night and everyone was sightreading. The Cellar was very cramped, but it was a great show nonetheless, and at a great venue. And afterwards, me and some friends from the camp went busking near English Bay. It was really fun, and we made $6 each from only 40 mins of playing! But at the college it felt more like a real stage setting, which is what I’m more used to. The whole week was really fun, and I hope that I can do it again next year.

On the other side of things, I had a list of things that I knew I had to do before the end of summer. Here it is:

1. Study some math to prep for Grade 10. Check!

2. Not suck at jazz camp. Check!

3. Get a phone!! Check!!

4. Get “The Beast” sneakers by Gravis!! Check!!

5. Get a new hoodie. Check!

6. Get the BAPE X G-Shock watch. Uncompleted.

After all that, I think I’m ready for summer to end. Well, partially.

Vans Warped Tour 2009: Vancouver

Last year, the Vans Warped Tour didn’t come to Vancouver and I was actually somewhat disappointed (besides the fact that Katy Perry was headlining). So this year I was pretty excited when I saw Vancouver as one of the stops on the tour. This year was still pretty disappointing in terms of most of the bands that were playing. I’m not exactly a huge fan of 3OH!3, Brokencyde, and other bands like that. As me and my fellow bandmate, Devin, walked through the gate, we saw a bit of Scary Kids Scaring Kids’ set. But the first band we actually watched was Black Tide. Might as well start off our morning with a little of metal eh? They’re a good band, but they sometimes screw around way too much, meaning playing random thrash classics for 20 seconds before starting a song. It basically sounded like they were in the middle of band practice or something. Next: Less Than Jake. Sadly I don’t know too much of their music, but Devin did, and we all had a good time watching their set. It was just pure ska punk goodness. After that, I was really excited to see a rapper I’m actually a pretty big fan of: Shad! Shad actually has a lot of positive messages in his songs, and I think he’s just a really cool guy. That was one of my favorite sets that day.

After lunch, it was time for some more metal. Local band Gross Misconduct were playing the Kevin Says Stage this year, and I was pretty stoked for that. Honestly, I’m going to assume that they had the largest crowd for that stage that day. It was very brutal indeed, with even a small circle pit going. Props to them for being the most metal band that day!! Next, was the second rapper of the day, P.O.S. He can really get the crowd going, and it was just a very intense live set. The DJ had the bass booming, and the messages in the rhymes were crystal clear. Now it was time to head back to the main stage to watch Bad Religion, NOFX, and Alexisonfire. Both Bad Religion and NOFX are great to see live, especially with the humor that NOFX provides, plus they don’t seem to be aging very fast. I was glad that Bad Religion didn’t end with Sorrow, because personally I don’t really like that song that much. The Alexisonfire set was full of energy, and you could tell that most of the crowd was really into it. George Petit was literally spitting all over the front rows of screaming fans. And I wasn’t planning to watch 3OH!3, so we headed straight to the Hurley stage to see Gallows. They really brought the punk energy back that this day needed in spite of all the pop/emo bands that had been playing all day. As expected, frontman Frank Carter was all over the place beating himself up. But that’s just the way it is with them. In general, there were quite a few bands playing that I really couldn’t care less about, but the ones that had caught my attention stood out tremendously among a sea of bands that all sound the same.

Umbria Jazz Festival: Guinga

One thing I love to do is go to concerts when I’m away. There’s something special about hearing live music in a foreign place—you get the feeling of experiencing a unique event that wouldn’t happen back home.

The rare time when I’m at one of those foreign concerts, there’s usually a moment when the whole experience sinks in. I had one of those moments the other week, during a concert by Guinga at the Umbria Jazz Festival in Perugia, Italy. It came during one of the encores, when the Brazilian sang and played guitar on “Senhorinha”, a song from his Noturno Copacabana album. His solo performance of the gorgeous tune was incredibly affecting, and brought it all home: I was hearing a great Brazilian musician in a beautiful theatre at an acclaimed jazz festival in sublime Italy. It’s hard to top that.

Guinga is one of those artists who I would drop everything for and go to great lengths to hear live if I had the chance. That’s exactly what I did. To get to Perugia from San Venanzo, the small town in Umbria where we stayed, I drove for a good 45 minutes on a two-lane road that includes a mountainous section with sharp, twisting curves that aren’t for the faint-of-heart.

The drive was well worth it. I’m crazy about Brazilian music, and Guinga is one of Brazil’s master musicians and composers. The first music I heard by Guinga was from his Suite Leopoldina album, which happens to be his masterpiece. I remember what a revelation it was to hear that album, which features his compelling compositions. I’ve listened to a lot of Brazilian music, but I had never heard arrangements like this: combining vocals, guitar, piano, clarinet, flute, percussion, harmonica, a full string section (on some tracks) and other instruments in a grand but intimate way. With a host of high-caliber guest artists like Ivan Lins, Chico Buarque, Lenine, Jaques Morelenbaum and Toots Thielemans, Suite Leopoldina is a landmark recording that I’m sure not enough people outside of Brazil have heard. (Guinga trivia: he’s also a dentist.)

The venue: Teatro Morlacchi, before the concert:

Guinga’s Umbria Jazz concert was very different from the large-scale, cinematic splendour of Suite Leopoldina. He performed with just two musicians: clarinetist Gabriele Mirabassi and another Brazilian guitarist Lula Galvão. They played mainly instrumental music—Guinga sang on just the encore song. There was a strong rapport between the players, particularly with Guinga and Mirabassi, who’s an excellent musician from Umbria.

It was interesting to see the division of labour: while they all played the melodies, which sounded decidedly Brazilian, only Mirabassi and Galvao took improvised solos (which were very good ones). I didn’t know this before the concert, but Guinga doesn’t seem to improvise in the strict sense of the word. Instead, he excels at playing chords on the guitar that convey the striking essence of Brazilian harmony. That’s a form of improvisation, because he comes up with choice voicings that likely change each time he plays the tunes. He also plays amazing intros to songs that set the mood. (More Guinga trivia: apparently he can’t read a single note of music, which makes his harmonically intricate compositions and playing even more impressive.)

Guinga’s approach doesn’t make him less of a musician. Playing Brazilian guitar is an art, with a high standard that was set by greats like Baden Powell. Guinga understands and insightfully carries on that tradition. He’s not technically astounding like Yamandu, another Brazilian guitarist who I’ve enjoyed twice in Vancouver. But he’s as harmonically engaging and emotionally powerful as any Brazilian artist I’ve heard.

Guinga actually spoke in Italian between some songs, as did Mirabassi. I wish I understood what they were saying, but the mutual respect on stage was obvious. The concert was a prime example of an international collaboration that works, not unlike what Vancouver’s jazz festival pulls off every year with a number of shows. But this concert probably only could have happened in Umbria because of the local connection (Mirabassi). Over the years the Umbria Jazz Festival has also programmed a lot of top Brazilian artists, who rarely come to Vancouver (if at all). So for me, this was a once-in-a-lifetime event. I savoured every chord.

Guinga and his two collaborators performed in the Teatro Morlacchi, which opened an astonishing 228 years ago. It’s designed in the traditional Italian theatre style with a horseshoe-shaped interior and domed ceiling. Above the floor seats, five tiers of boxes wrap around the theatre. On the ordine quattro (fourth level), an usher escorted me to my seat in a box directly across from the centre of the stage. Four Italians sat with me in the box. I was almost as much in awe with the wondrous setting as I was with the profound music.