Winnipeg music & culture since 1989
In the recent history of dubstep there has been an undercurrent of tracks that mix extremely melodic trance leads and builds with dubstep beats. This banger here is one of them. Produced by an up-and comer named Kid-Alt-Dub from Leicester in the UK, this has been getting a lot of play recently on Plastician‘s Rinse.fm show. (Look up some podcasts if you haven’t heard Plastician spin: it is divine.) Big, big choon right here.
Galactic’s new album, The Other Side Of Midnight left my CD player smoking, with fumes reminiscent of gumbo and sweat. This band is one who is constantly expanding their repertoire from the initial “jam-funk band of choice for the Uptown collegiate stoner set” status to the iconic jazz-soul staple they’ve become. Recorded at Tipitina’s Club in New Orleans, TOSOM features the musical talents of Cyril Neville, Trombone Shorty, Soul Rebels Brass Band and Big Frieda and all adds up to one hot, loud and rowdy New Orleans hoe-down. I’ve never seen Galactic live, but listening to this album makes me feel like I have, and gives a pretty solid idea that it’s more than just a concert, with the obvious intent to party alongside some really rad music. You’ll find an array of fine talents on this album, from sharp guitar and keyboards on “Wild Man” to the mad skillz (so slick he got a ‘z’) of Trombone Shorty on “Cineramascope.” “Garbage Truck” is in dire need of a ska cover, yet as is makes me think of a crazy, perspiring group of Bohemian gypsies, wiggling and romping around an ancient caravan. This album is worthy of consideration for a hot prairie summer. (ANTI-, http://anti.com) Victoria King
TWIN is focused around Dave Fort (Absent Sound) and he’s really prepared to give you the best and worst news as if you’ve never heard it before. He’s spouting off hard truths like on the back half of “Prairie Loon”—like, “Well some friends are gonna die / Some are gonna take their own life / There’ll be no reasons why / And, boy, you’re gonna cry.” The first two songs and the last song, strongly focused on death, are fleshed out with strings and back-up vocals and it makes for a pretty emotional listen—although they’re words of comfort rather than naysaying. Meanwhile, on the other end of the life spectrum, “Fine Clothing” is definitely the album’s cheeriest, urging you to “Sing all of those old songs / Those one your granddaddy used to love.” Given Fort’s electric background, these songs aren’t ripping off traditional folk ballads but instead are thoughtful, spacey progressions backed by all the usual folk instruments which are played by musicians from the community (David Dobbs of Vampires and Ingrid Gatin to name a couple) and other friends who have since become the rest of TWIN. For the moment, the five-song EP stands alone in Winnipeg—Sharing Secrets with Strangers is much more sinister than any other folk being made, and it’s much more heartfelt than any indie rock. (Independent, www.myspace.com/twintwa) Taylor Burgess
It’s hard not to draw comparisons between Austra’s debut and Hercules and the Love Affair. And it’s not that they even sound alike. Austra’s not even remotely disco. But Feel It Break picks up on what were H&LA’s strongest aspects: the Antony-helmed tracks that positioned flawless, operatic vocals against strong electronic beats, too rhythmic to really be sorrowful, too emotionally resonant to be pigeonholed as just a dancefloor staple. It’s not a bad place to be, at all. Katie Stelmanis’s vocals are stunning, weaving effortlessly from aching vibrato to choir-like highs to echoed and breathy, and looped to the point where she’s often harmonizing with different manifestations of her own voice, which she’s damn good at. The synthetic beats are gentle rather than forceful, cradling Stelmanis’s voice for a seamless effect. “Lose It” is Feel It Break’s most powerful track, and features one of the loveliest, most angelic all-vowel bridges I’ve heard in a long time — and let’s be honest, those really are everywhere. It’s heartful, pleading and upbeat all at once. Synths and mixers let up at the end of the piano-driven “The Beast,” a distinctly visual number that could function as a soundtrack to a fairytale in and of itself. “Beat and the Pule” — the lyrics of which the album title is derived from — is dark and atmospheric, and more than lives up to its name. “Hate Crime” and “The Choke” are hauntingly intimate, blending sorrowful vocals with twinkling synths. If this doesn’t end up on my end of year “Best Of,” you’re welcome to slap me. (Paper Bag Records, www.paperbagrecords.com) Brietta O’Leary
Under Pressure were a significant Winnipeg hardcore group, and this album was their master offering. By the time Come Clean was released, the group’s members had been making music for years together, and this album perfectly represents a height for them as a group. Hardcore is an extremely formulaic genre that can be easily replicated. People take cues from bands such as Poison Idea and Black Flag, as Under Pressure initially did, and replicate them in their own way. This makes way for a lot of very mediocre representations. Over time, the music that these players loved was internalized and practiced in perfection, usually causing other bands to pale in comparison. Their devotion to form eventually turned into mastery and this album represents that moment in time. Come Clean is not just a hollow repetition of forms from the past. Rather, it is those forms mastered through dedication over time and presented for others to take cue from. A step away from their earlier, faster and more youthful hardcore sound, Come Clean lies in a darker, more serious territory on its own. Taking more of a rock direction, the listener is grabbed and assaulted aurally from the first riff of the album. Lyrically, the harshness of existence is presented in a notable step above average, further separating this album from the masses of thoughtless clones. Come Clean will leave an impact on those who hear it for years to come. As time progressed and line-up changes occurred, the quality of the band never diminished—Under Pressure’s conclusion in 2009 denied the band the time needed to surpass Come Clean, leaving it as their masterpiece to which heads will nod to in the future. (2006, Primitive Air-Raid, www.primitiveairraid.com) Kevin Strang
Columbus, OH’s Psychedelic Horseshit want you to know what you’re getting into. From the multiple drug references in their name and album titles to the word ‘shit’ popping up in both their name and self-applied, made-up genre ‘shitgaze’, you should be prepared for what you hear when you pop their CD on. The psychedelia references are apt, with singer Matt Horseshit (pseudonym???) atonally mumbling out lyrics, mostly about what he likes, or on the flipside, doesn’t like very much (“I Hate The Beach”). From the horseshit end of things (horsebutt), their percussion reminds occasionally of a simulated trotting horse à la Monty Python, and almost everything else sounds like shit. Mind, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s an aural aesthetic, and these shitheads have a good handle on how to use it to their advantage, to orchestrate a cohesive album. The term ‘shitgaze’ is incredibly appropriate—Psychedelic Horseshit are mired in the early ’90s lo-fi pop sound, eliciting everything from the melodic arrangements and effects pedals of My Bloody Valentine, to the lackadaisical vibe, found-sound layering, and rhythmic spasticity of early Beck. But shoehorning them into that scene does them a disservice—while the aforementioned bands are their foundations, they’ve incorporated a wide variety of influences that make sure what you hear next is never predictable or boring. For a band so covered in ‘shit’, they are far from shitty. (Fat Cat Records, http://fat-cat.co.uk) David Nowacki
It seems A1 label head Greg Arcade (Noble Thiefs) has traded in the ska for a solo album featuring a variety of ass-shakin’, rockin’ genres. Following in the footsteps of his Beach Bum Singles EP, In…Hawaii features blaring distorted Hives-like garage rock with lead off track “No! You Shut Up!” coupled with the classic surf rock sound in “Filament” and “Hawaii Electric.” It even has a couple rockabilly numbers with “I’m a Lion” and “Shake your Feet.” In…Hawaii may not seem unique because each cut is somewhat based on familiar song structures that we’ve heard before, but it’s in how Greg Arcade builds on them which makes it so perfectly conceived. Each track is a thought-out homage to rock ’n’ roll with great lyrics and attitude to match. Arcade even ends off this perfect party album with the whimsy-laden “After-Glow,” which sounds reminiscent of Skynyrd’s “Tuesday’s Gone.” Well done. (A1, www.gregarcade.com) Kent Davies
Both of these albums were handed to me at the Death Trap by Julia Ryckman, because they’re by her Saskatoon friend Tiffany Paige—who she did a 12” split with last year as Slattern. Yet another positive attribute we can add to Ryckman’s list—she keeps good company. Paige, as Lipstickface, blatantly sing-raps about sex, backed by blunt drum machines. So yeah, it’s a must-listen for all you riot grrrls/riot grrrl fans/riot boiiis out there. Thing is though, Lipstickface gives me such a raging hard-on while she’s doing it, and she does it with the haunting minimalism of Young Marble Giants or the Pop Group (which might add to the boner that I’m pretty sure that she’s intentionally giving me). Over 15 tracks and nearly an hour, Lipstickface has some sure-fire hits (“Make My Day”), exploratory sound art (“Oh Baby” and the intro and outro) and some house-referencing madness like that of Pictureplane (“Dirty Boy” and “Pretty Baby”).
And as if the mad post-punk respect didn’t stop there, Paige also drums in Aunty Panty, which rounds up all these aforementioned musical references but slanted the other way, guitar-driven, with drum machine-informed drumming. (i.e. 4 on the floor, and straight eighth or on a tightly closed hi-hat or cymbal, and tons of other rip-it-up-and-start-again aural treats.) Aunty Panty’s release is certainly way more cohesive than that of Gimme (although I really admire Gimme’s huge scope) and it doesn’t have a single hiccup for the entire six tracks and 15 minutes. If you’re into two-minute scream fests (“Mal Au Coeur”), or four-minute broods of a two-chord jam (“Mama Don’t Like You”), pick AP EP up or see them whenever they come into town, which I currently only assume they would. I mean, c’mon, it’s Saskatoon! I mean, yeah, Saskatoon! Fuck yeah, Saskatoon. (Independent, www.myspace.com/lalalalipstickface // www.myspace.com/auntypantpantpanty) Taylor Burgess
Braids are still off touring one of our favourite records of the year, Native Speaker, doing the NXNE and Sled Island bit before heading off to the EU. Check out this video for “Plath Heart” which takes place inside a paintball arena. Unfortunately, the Montreal-via-Calgary band doesn’t play paintball, or even get shot at (which is all the rage lately) but this is an extremely cinematic, colourful, high quality video of their intricate live performance.
It’s the high school under-the-sea dance come to life. The Blowholes have been blowing people away with their lo-fi twangy strings and shrill screams since forming in 2009. It’s hard not to fall in love with a series of whimsy-laden songs about whales, sharks and octopuses. Unlike some of their local garage-rock counter parts, The Blowholes’ sound is disarmingly casual and almost hypnotic. Fluctuating between mid-tempo slow dance numbers like “Moonlighting” and breezy rockin’ tunes like “the Haunt,” the ferocious foursome have a knack for creating alluring numbers. Trying to pick out standout track in this sea of songs is next to impossible. From the pick-a-licious licks of “Poseidon’s Daughters” to rockingly-shockingly devastating “Huck Fin” to the playful theatrics of “Remember,” each cut is uniquely catchy and perfect for burning one down by the beach. (Transistor 66, http://theblowholes.transistor66.com) Kent Davies