Backstage at Regina's Artesian on 13th,
Oct. 31. I'm squatting, on the right; Dustin Ritter
is standing, third from right
November 2018: the
month I finally learned that Regina has a music scene. And man, oh man, was I
missing out.
On my recent book tour
promoting The Never-Ending Present, my schedule placed me in Regina on
Hallowe’en, a night when a lot of venues were unwilling to host a book event—except
the Artesian on 13th, a converted church now being run as a co-op
venue. The only catch? I had to rent the venue. So I decided to book a full-on
rock show and charge a cover to take care of expenses (and pay the band, of
course). My fellow Polaris Prize juror Darlene Barss agreed to host the evening
and forwarded me a few names, which sent me down a wormhole. Several local
scenesters sent their regrets, including Megan Nash, Library Voices and Nick
Faye.
The Dustin Ritter Band
agreed to put together a bunch of local all-stars, only one of whom—Marshall
Ward of Rah Rah—I was previously familiar with (that band’s 2015 album Vessels was one of my favourites that
year). The others were Travis Rennebohm and Ethan Bender from Tiger Charmer,
Christopher “Tiny” Matchett, Tyler Gilbert and Bryce Van Loosen. Everyone did
an ace job, and the gig couldn’t have gone better, musically speaking, and
there was a wonderful, generous spirit in the room (although attendance-wise,
yes, booking a gig on Hallowe’en is not a great idea).
That night I met Blake
Berglund and Melanie Hankewich (a.k.a. Belle Plaine), who bought a copy of the
book and expressed regrets that they couldn’t take part in the show, because
they’d just got back from tour that day. I knew Belle Plaine’s new CD had
arrived on my desk just before I left on tour; she was going to be in Toronto
soon, opening for Colter Wall, whose record I’d reviewed in advance before I
left.
So in the space of a
month I’ve gone from being totally ignorant of Regina’s incredibly fertile
music scene—including forgetting the fact that Andy Shauf is from there, and
being unfamiliar with the Dead South—to being acutely interested.
Mea culpa: I’m also
the jackass with a Canadian studies degree who misspelled Saskatchewan in a
national music magazine 15 years ago. But at least I know that canola is a
modern variant of what used to be called rapeseed.
Colter Wall – Songs of
the Plains (Sony)
Quick:
name the last great songwriter from Saskatchewan. [ed note: what an ignoramus! Jon Bartlett will kill you for not
remembering Shauf.] I’d suggest the duo Kacy & Clayton of Wood Mountain
Hills in south Saskatchewan, but I’ll forgive you if you haven’t heard of them
(yet). Colter Wall (son of a recent provincial premier, no less) has been the
talk of Nashville for a couple of years now, and when he travels the world he’s
surprised no one knows anything about his home province. So, much like his Albertan
friend Corb Lund, who sings backup here, he’s made his songwriting primarily
local—and in doing so, has found universal appeal.
Produced
by Dave Cobb (Sturgill Simpson, Chris Stapleton, Brandi Carlile), Songs of the Plains sounds like a
campfire record, with little more than guitar, upright bass, and the instantly
recognizable harmonica of Mickey Raphael, a.k.a. Willie Nelson’s right-hand
man. The stark setting serves Wall’s rich baritone well, making the material
that much more haunting—which is appropriate, because much of what Wall does is
rooted in an antiquated view of Prairie life.
He
covers of Wilf Carter and three other old cowboy songs, but gets his history a
bit confused on the otherwise worthy “Saskatchewan in 1881”: “Mr. Toronto man,
go away from my door / got my wheat and canola seed / you’re asking me for more
/ you’d better fly before I produce my .44.” The word “canola” wasn’t coined
until 1978, for a genetically modified derivative of the not-so-friendly
“rapeseed,” so no one in 1881 would have referred to their crops as “canola.”
One would suspect such a strongly self-identifying Prairie boy to know that.
No
matter: otherwise, this sophomore record shows that Wall is more than just a
historical re-enactment act. (Nov. 2)
Stream:
“Plain to See Plainsman,” “Saskatchewan in 1881,” “Wild Dogs”
Belle Plaine – Malice,
Mercy, Grief & Wrath (Rawlco)
A couple of weeks ago,
I wrote about Colter Wall’s second album, and asked the rhetorical question:
when was the last time you heard a great artist from Regina?
What an ass. I need to take that
back. Big time. Not just because of this new album by Belle Plaine, but because
having recently visited the city, I’ve been awakened to a wealth of talent in
the roots rock and country world there that makes it one of the most exciting
music scenes in Canada. And Belle Plaine’s album might make the best argument
why that is.
Belle Plaine is
Melanie Hankewich, who grew up in Fosston, Saskatchewan (it’s between Humboldt
and Kelvington, due east of Saskatoon—but basically in the middle of nowhere).
This is her third album, and she draws deeply from her local community: Colter
Wall, Kacy Anderson (of Kacy & Clayton), Megan Nash, and Blake Berglund,
who is her partner, guitarist, and a solo artist in his own right. The album is
produced by Jason Plumb, best remembered as the frontman of the ’90s band the
Waltons.
All that talent is put
to use on nine songs that range from traditional country to torch songs to more
contemporary singer-songwriter fare, all showcasing Hankewich’s haunting,
jazz-trained voice. She draws character portraits of loss and longing,
occasionally inhabiting stories much older than she—and, in the case of opening
track, “For All Those Who I love,” an abusive father filled with regret. She’s
also able to write a classic country zinger, like the song with the chorus: “Is
it cheatin’ if you don’t get laid? / Is it a gig if you don’t get paid? / Is it
a crying shame if my tears don’t fall?” (Nov. 16)
Stream: “Golden Ring”
feat. Megan Nash, “Is It Cheating” feat. Colter Wall and Blake Berglund, “Laila
Sady Johnson Wasn’t Beaten By No Train”
Foxwarren
– s/t (Arts and Crafts)
You’re
an artist from a small regional centre in Canada who finally achieves
international recognition under your own name, with sold-out shows across North
America and Europe. For your follow-up, you decide to… resurrect your obscure
band from ten years ago and put out its debut album, with your name nowhere on
the cover? An odd choice, yes, but that’s exactly what singer-songwriter Andy
Shauf—whose 2016 breakthrough album The
Party landed on the Polaris Music Prize shortlist—has done with Foxwarren,
a group of old Regina friends who decided to finish what they started a decade
ago.
On
the surface, it’s not that different from Shauf’s solo work: the baked
couch-potato vibe rarely strays from mid-tempo, the late-Beatles production
aesthetic is delicate and exquisite, and of course Shauf’s slightly marblemouth
vocals are distinctive. For whatever reason—maybe it’s Shauf’s own musical
maturity, or maybe because these old mates (especially the drummer) bring out
the best in the man who played every instrument on The Party himself—this is more musically rewarding than The Party on several levels. Which makes
the decision to keep Shauf’s name out of the brand all the more puzzling. (Nov.
30)
Stream:
"To Be," "Everything Apart," "I’ll Be Alright”
The 11th Polaris Music Prize gala is on Monday,
Sept. 19, at the Carlu in Toronto, where 11 jurors locked in a room will decide
which one of these 10 artists will get $50,000 and a gig with the Toronto
Symphony Orchestra in 2016. All other nominees receive $3,000.
Every day this week I’ll look at two of the shortlisted albums,
assess their chances, and celebrate two albums that didn’t make the short list—or,
in some cases, even the long list.
The chances: Depends on if the median age of the grand jury is
under 30. (It is not.)
Andy Shauf – The Party (Arts and Crafts)
This is a very nice record.
The chances: Depends on if the median age of the grand jury is
over 40.
The could’ve, should’ve beens:
Michelle McAdorey – In Her Future (DWR)
My October review:
Fans of Crash Vegas—a brilliant and oft-overlooked Toronto band
who released three classic albums between 1989 and 1995—might well have been
wondering what the future might hold for singer Michelle McAdorey. This is the
first new music from her in 10 years, following two very low-key and
experimental records in the early 2000s. Into Her Future finds her teaming up
once again with Blue Rodeo’s Greg Keelor—with whom she founded Crash Vegas in
1988; he left when they became too busy—and returning from her more
experimental forays back toward the dusky, psychedelic country ballads that
comprised some of Crash Vegas’s most compelling moments. This is a record as
quiet as it is sleepy, with one or two exceptions. McAdorey and Keelor get as
trippy as they wanna be—if it wasn’t all so well-executed, you might think it
was made over a lost weekend on Keelor’s farm under a haze of smoke. She’s no
longer a steely-eyed rocker, but her voice is as riveting as ever—McAdorey has
been dearly missed.
Read my interview with McAdorey here.
It’s one my favourite conversations of recent years, and a teenage dream come
true.
Why it didn’t make the
shortlist: I feel like one of the only critics still working who even remembers
Crash Vegas (shout out to Aaron Brophy, Sarah Liss, Sarah Greene, Tabassum Siddiqui, Mark Rheaume
and Roch Parisien). The albums have been out of print for decades; they’re not
even on YouTube, although 1992’s Stone
showed up on Spotify recently for some reason. McAdorey hadn’t played live in
years, so her profile even in her hometown of Toronto was low. Sadly, the world
was not clamouring for a new McAdorey record. The fact it catapulted onto the
long list (where she was the second-oldest nominee, after Art Bergmann) was a
huge victory in itself, hopefully providing as a wakeup call to latent Crash
Vegas fans that this record exists.
Tami Neilson – Dynamite! (Outside)
My September review:
The hottest country artist from New Zealand is Canadian. Tami
Neilson grew up playing in her family band—that would be the Neilsons—in Canada
in the 1990s, before moving to New Zealand to start her adult career. There,
she’s won no fewer than five nods for Country Album of the Year at that
nation’s equivalent of the Junos or Grammys, among other laurels. This,
however, is the first time one of her solo records is getting a Canadian
release. It couldn’t possibly be a better introduction.Neilson is a throwback; everything here is steeped in ’50s
rockabilly and Nashville, and she’s got it down pat: the bare-bones production,
the ace band, and a showstopper of a voice that could fill any room without a
microphone. Her lyrics might be well-worn tropes—songs about a heart the size
of Texas and lipstick on your collar—but the melodies, arrangements, and especially
her vocals are all fantastic.
Why it didn’t even
make the long list: Traditional country doesn’t go far in Polaris, and there’s
nothing remotely modern about this record. If, 32 years ago, a certain Canadian
superstar hadn’t already claimed to be the reincarnation of Patsy Cline,
Neilson might well make the same claim. Anyone with fond memories of the first
Neko Case record or who want Lindi Ortega to record with the Sadies would do
well to knock on Neilson’s door. Dynamite! was a Canadian re-release of her
latest album in New Zealand; she has a brand new record out this month, which
you can stream at CBC Music here.
As always, these reviews ran in the Waterloo Record.
Streaming is great for sample purposes, but please find a way to
support your favourite artists financially.
Un Blonde – Good Will Come to You (Egg Paper)
Perhaps the most obscure artist to
vault onto this year’s Polaris Music Prize long list, Jean-Sebastien Audet
spent his teenage years in Calgary with a variety of musical projects, which is
probably why the latest album by this 19-year-old and recent Montreal
transplant sounds so accomplished, even though it’s incredibly bare, featuring
little more than acoustic guitar and layers of Audet’s gospel-tinged harmonies.
(For anyone, like me, who’s been seeking out Prince demos online since that
legend’s death, Un Blonde has further resonance.) One song is called “I Felt
the Evening Come Through the Window,” and indeed, Audet retains the sound of
falling rain outside his apartment, along with seagulls and other ambient
noise. Audet isn’t just a singer-songwriter fond of sparse arrangements; on
instrumental tracks like “Exercise A,” he also explores ambient textures (with
what’s either a melodica, accordion or harmonium—hard to tell). Good Will Come to You features 21 songs
in 46 minutes; tiny perfect sketches that speak volumes about the man’s talent. (June 9)
Stream: “Celebration,” “Brand New,” “Staying in Line”
case/lang/veirs – s/t
(Anti)
The first time I ever heard Neko Case, I hadn’t been that
electrified by a North American woman’s singing voice since k.d. lang. Twenty
years later, the two women have formed a trio with Oregon singer/songwriter
Laura Veirs. It sounds amazing—on paper.
Both lang and Case are powerhouse vocalists who can leave
listeners—at least this one—in a weepy mess. Veirs—well, frankly, it’s a bit of
a mystery what she’s doing here. (I’m sure she’s a lovely person.) She doesn’t
distract from the potential in this recording—she’s certainly a decent
singer—but it’s not clear that she adds anything, either.
It starts out with a promise: opening track “Atomic Number”
finds all three women trading off lines. That promise quickly evaporates: most
tracks are solo turns, with the other two providing backing vocals, the likes
of which could really have been performed by any studio professionals
(admittedly, a rare occurrence in the age of solo artists multi-tracking their
own backups). We’re denied the sublime pleasure of Case and lang exchanging
lines, or even singing a lead in two-part harmony.
Much of the collaboration here took place in the songwriting
process, which might be the problem: for the last 20 years, k.d. lang has been
a masterful interpreter but a middling songwriter; Veirs is perfunctory, but
not capable of writing material for a project like this; Case, the strongest
songwriter of the three, has an idiosyncratic flair that may not lend itself to
surrender. Veirs’s husband, producer/engineer Tucker Martine, dresses up the
material in impeccably bland arrangements, with strings and woodwinds and
vibraphones that merely clutter up the sonic space that should be left wide
open for these voices to roam.
Naturally, there are sublime moments, starting with lang’s
“Honey and Smoke,” which ranks as one of her finest torch songs
in the Roy Orbison mode. Case’s “Delirium”—written by all three, an apparently
the song with the longest gestation—is the highlight here. Neither are enough,
however, to compensate for the squandered potential here. Let’s hope the tour
brings out the best in them. (June 23)
Case/lang/veirs play Toronto’s Danforth Music Hall on Aug. 16.
Stream: “Atomic Number,” “Delirium,” “Honey and Smoke”
Brandy Clark – Big Day in
a Small Town (Warner)
Still have tears in your beer since
ABC cancelled Nashville? Well, cheer
up, because there’s a new Brandy Clark album. The 40-year-old songwriter, who’d
penned hits for or with Miranda Lambert, Reba McEntire and Kacey Musgraves, was
thrust into the spotlight with 2013’s 12
Stories, the kind of album songwriters of every genre study carefully, full
of both killer one-liners, developed narratives and astute character sketches.
Here, Clark steps up into the big
time, with a major label and a producer, Jay Joyce (Eric Church, Carrie
Underwood) who beefs up her (previously predominantly acoustic) sound for radio
play. Thankfully, it’s not an unrecognizable makeover: the core of Clark’s
charm and songcraft remain. She can be incredibly poignant, as on the
examination of faded youth on “Homecoming Queen,” or laugh-out-loud funny, on
“Broke”: “Ain’t
enough apples for our apple pie / if we had a penny not sure we could spare it
/ we’re sitting on the porch drinking generic / Coke / we’re broke.” And
she’s got sass to spare, as on the first single, in which she taunts, “If you
want the girl next door, go next door.” (June 9)
Stream: “Girl Next Door,” “Broke,”
“Homecoming Queen”
Doomsquad – Total Time
(Hand Drawn Dracula)
Granted, there are moments here
that sound like the soundtrack to a ritual sacrifice at a rave somewhere north
of Sudbury. But when it comes to spookier-than-thou psychedelic trance music,
it doesn’t get much better than these three Toronto siblings, who recruited
Mary Margaret O’Hara to sing backups for them, and whom Wolf Parade picked to
open their sold-out reunion shows in New York City. There are elements of dub
reggae, hippie jams, plenty of goth angst, and you can practically smell the
incense coming out your speakers. It’s certainly divisive, but to these ears,
it’s just perfect for summer nights in subversive times. (June 2)
Stream: “Who Owns Noon in
Sandusky,” “Pyramids on Mars,” “Farmer’s Almanac”
Fanfare Ciocarlia – Onwards to Mars! (Asphalt Tango)
Did you know one of the best bands in the world is playing the
Italian Canadian Centre in Guelph this week? And Maxwell’s in Waterloo shortly
after that? (And the major jazz festivals in Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal and
Quebec City as well.)
Fanfare Ciocarlia are a Balkan brass band from a remote Romanian
village, celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. In 2014 they
recorded an album with Guelph guitarist Adrian Raso, owner of the Little Shop
of Guitars on Quebec Street. They’ve already toured in Europe; now they’re
finally bringing it to major jazz festivals in Canada—and a local wedding hall
in Guelph.
Here they’re on their own, doing what they do best: incredibly
fast and brash brass lines, frenetic rhythm driven by sousaphones and two
percussionists, and occasional vocal forays sung in their Roma language. It’s
physically impossible not to dance to this music, the dizzying horn and
clarinet lines adding to the euphoria.
The band’s style has evolved over the years, and not just
through their work with Raso. Here, the oddball pop entry is a cover of the
1950s slow-grinding classic “I Put a Spell on You,” by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.
Here it’s sung by Iulian Canaf, a comically histrionic soulman who attained
notoriety as a contestant on the Romanian version of TV’s The Voice. It has to be heard to be believed—though, truth be told,
the original is just as much of an oddball, (literally) snortin’ good time. (June
23)
Fanfare Ciocarlia and Adrian Raso are playing Toronto with the
Lemon Bucket Orchestra on June 29 at the Opera House, the Guelph Italian
Canadian Club on July 2, and at Maxwell's in Waterloo on July 5.
Stream: “Crayfish Hora,” “Out to Lounge,” “Mista Lobaloba”
The Kills – Ash and Ice
(Domino/Outside)
The Kills are a bluesy guitar duo
who’ve survived and thrived almost 15 years after forming, with much credit
going to attention magnet Alison Mosshart—who also fronts perhaps the finest of
all Jack White projects, the Dead Weather. Mosshart and guitarist Jamie Hince
claim they wanted to flip the script on this, their fifth album, and even cited
hip-hop master Pusha T as a big influence. Which is an interesting ploy to
convince people that Ash and Ice is
some radical reinvention, when in fact it’s just another Kills record, no
better or worse, with slightly more interesting drum programming. It may not be
fair to compare, but Mosshart is much better utilized in the Dead Weather,
where her howls and snarls and sexual energy is completely captivating; in the
Kills, one always gets the sense she’s underplaying her power. That does allow
her to sink her teeth into some of the slower material, exploring the torch
singer into which she’ll inevitably evolve some day. (June 9)
Stream: “Doing It to Death,” “Hard
Habit to Break,” “Days of Why and How”
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Nonagon Infinity (ATO)
A nonagon, for the geometrically
challenged among us (I looked it up), is a nine-sided figure. This is the
eighth album by this seven-piece Australian band in the last four years. All those
numbers add up to: infinity?
That’s the intention behind these
nine rollicking psychedelic rock songs, which not only flow seamlessly into
each other like a 42-minute suite, but the last track also flows back into the
first if you (are weird enough to) leave your player on “repeat.” That journey
often travels at a breakneck speed, with influences from Led Zeppelin’s
“Communication Breakdown” through Deep Purple and Can and Iron Maiden and
Stereolab—basically, any band that’s ever strapped themselves to a runaway
train. Nonagon Infinity is more than
just a thrill ride, however, with a keen sense of dynamics, spacey keyboards
and guitar textures balancing the hard-driving riffs and rhythms. (June 9)
Stream: “Evil Death Roll,” “Road
Train,” “Robot Stop”
Pantha du Prince – The Triad (Rough Trade)
I played this record in a cabin in
the woods one morning, surrounded by a symphony of birds—who fit in seamlessly
with the stuttering bells and chimes that have become the trademark sound for
this German producer. His rhythms have much more swing in them than you’d
expect from minimal techno, and he’s more prone to using major chords than most
of his peers. This time out there are more vocalists employed, though not to
particularly great effect; his keyboard leads are still the main melodic
driver.
The producer has mused that he’ll
bury the name after this album, having achieved everything he wants to with
this aesthetic. The Triad isn’t as
strong as its predecessor, Black Noise—he’s
starting to sound like a one-trick pony—so perhaps that decision is wise. In
the meantime, the birds in my neighbourhood are more than happy to sing along. (June 2)
Stream: “The Winter Hymn” feat.
Queens, “Frau im mond, Sterne laufen,” “Dream Yourself Awake”
Samaris – Black Lights (One Little Indian)
Of Monsters and Men have shifted our perceptions of Icelandic
music away from esoteric electronica, avant-garde pop stars and whatever it is
Sigur Ros happens to be, and toward catchy yet bland radio rock. Which is why
it’s refreshing to encounter Samaris, a Reykjavik trio that draws from ’90s
trip hop, dubby electronica and the (relatively) more recent sounds coming from
London’s Hyperdub label, including Hamilton’s Jessy Lanza. Breathy female
vocals and strong, skittering beats—even at slower tempos—are adorned with
equally dreamy and disquieting synths, making for languid, late-night vibes. (June
30)
Stream: “Wanted 2 Say,” “Black Lights,” “3y3”
Sate – Red Black and Blue (independent)
Canada has no shortage of rock bands. What this country is
lacking, however, is fantastic rock singers: people who can grab a song by the
throat, who can be heard above electric guitars even without a microphone. More
howlers, fewer growlers, please.
Enter Sate, a.k.a. Saidah Baba Talibah—daughter of Salome Bey,
one of this country’s greatest R&B/jazz voices in the ’70s and
’80s—reinventing herself as a rocker here, after starting her career in a
bluesier vein. The blues is still present here, but on opening track “Warrior”
she goes for the jugular in ways the Toronto scene probably hasn’t seen since
Danko Jones. “You’re gonna know my name / from the Mississippi to the Rhine,”
she boasts—and by the end of the track you’re more than inclined to agree. As
strong as that song is, in the context of the album it seems like a gimmick to
get you to pay attention. Once she’s got you hooked, Sate starts to get
serious: right away she delves into the blues of “What Did I Do,” and “Mama
Talk to Me” is a poignant, emotional rocker about Bey’s struggles with
dementia. For all her fiery delivery, the upbeat tracks here suffer in
comparison with the slower numbers, especially the gorgeous, gospel-tinged
closer, “Peace.” Red Black and Blue
is an uneven record by an artist searching for her sound, but there’s no
denying that Sate is a force to be reckoned with. Her talent is too enormous to
be denied. (June 30)
Stream: “Warrior,” “Mama Talk to Me,” “Peace”
Andy Shauf – The Party
(Arts and Crafts)
One of the most anticipated Canadian albums of the year is by
this mild-mannered Regina singer/songwriter, who steps into the big time by
signing with Arts and Crafts in Canada and Anti in the U.S., the label that is
also home to the new album by k.d. lang, Neko Case and Laura Veirs, with whom
Shauf will be touring this summer. Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy is a huge fan, as is
novelist Nick Hornby. The hype seems strange for songs of such subtle
pleasures; Shauf is on the same wavelength as Beck’s acoustic moods, or Elliott
Smith, an early influence. And he’s chosen as his coming-out party a concept
album of sorts, connected songs set at a house party, a series of character
sketches that highlight Shauf’s eye for nuance. The playing and production are
impeccable—all Shauf solo, except for the strings—though Shauf’s sedated vocals
drag some of the material down; The Party
in question is more than a bit of a bummer. No matter. This record puts plenty
of wind in his sails; the after-party promises to be a lot more exciting. (June
2)
Stream: “The Magician,” “To You,” “Martha Sways”
Tegan and Sara – Love You to Death (Universal)
It’s heartening that an act like
Tegan and Sara get bigger and bigger with each album—rare in the chart-pop
sphere they no longer aspire to, but to which these 36-year-old sisters
rightfully belong. Working again with producer Greg Kurstin (Adele), who helmed
2013’s Heartbeat, Tegan and Sara aim
for stadiums and come up with a gold rush of hooks and radio-ready
melodies—granted, few with the undeniable punch of Hearbeat’s “Closer” or “I Was a Fool,” which would be hard to top.
“Boyfriend,” however, is unusually lyrically rich bubblegum, a lesbian love
song that will forever erase the memory of Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl.” (June
9)
