Describe your sound.
Elaine: Our sound is forever evolving rock n’roll!

Johnny: Rock with a pinch of indie, a dash of old school, mixed in with a lot of feeling.

Markus: Pick your favourite musicians that died too young… now imagine they didn’t die and kept going…. that’s what we sound like. But seriously, after various incarnations of the band, we are now a classic power trio of guitar, bass and drums, with a great singer out front. We’re carrying on with the tradition of a power trio and vocalist for the 21st century, like a modern Led Zeppelin or a Black Sabbath.

Gerald: What we sound like has progressed over the past few years, where the music and performances thereof were very much rooted in classic rock. With the second album, there is a sudden insurgence of power and intimacy to the music that demands your attention. What has stayed consistent throughout is the presence of poppy hooks and soaring melodies that you can still hear echoing somewhere in your head after you finish listening.

How did you guys meet? Where did Octobre’s Ending begin?
Gerald: The band had been around for a few years before I came on in 2009. I was innocently hired as a second guitar player and then I slowly and subtly poisoned the well with my terrorist musical approach. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten the boot! Helps to be a really nice guy, I guess.

Johnny: It began a lifetime ago with members changing on the fly. We were driven. We never gave up the quest fot that elusive stardom and today we’re left with the crème de la crème … The Octobre’s Ending Family.

Who are some of your musical influences?
Gerald: That’s all across the map. I love well-crafted pop and well-crafted punk, from Burt Bacharach to Todd Rundgren to the Smashing Pumpkins  to Black Flag. My favourite bands right now are Fitz and the Tantrums and OFF! It has to be genuine and have the kind of depth that moves or stirs you into action mentally or physically. 

Elaine: Mother Goose, Foster the People, Phoenix, Tokyo Police Club.

Johnny: T-Rex … virtually any music before the ’70s.

From your first album Check Your Ego at the Door, which song is definitive of your sound and sums you up as a band?
Elaine: Somewhere in-between “Little Ordeals” and “Missing Girl” you’ll find a resemblance of our evolving sound. It’s hard for me to sum us up into one sound because comparing Check Your Ego at the Door and album two (currently in the mixing stage) is like black and white, and now were starting to play with colour. It’s hard to put a label on it, I guess I’m not ready to be defined or commit to one sound – it feels too limiting.

Gerald: As great as that album is, and as proud as I am to have been part of its creation, I don’t think it really sums us up as a band. Check your Ego was recorded during a marathon studio session in one weekend. That incarnation of the band had only been together for six months at that time. Much like the music, we were still very much getting to know each other. Since then, our relationships and our playing and performing skills have developed dramatically. All this manifests itself in the quality of stuff we’re generating now with the new albums – which we’re all really, really excited about.

Markus: I wasn’t around when that one came out. I’m the new guy. I would say, for that album, Octobre’s Ending was still a caterpillar. There’s a metamorphosis going on right now … it’s a bit like a Franz Kafka novel around here. The steel-plated turbocharged butterfly is about to emerge from the cocoon. Yeah, it’s pretty, but be careful if you try to touch it, ’cause those wings are razor sharp!

Johnny: I don’t think that album really sums us up. It was a launching pad to our second album, which is a springboard to our third album, which will enable us to dive into the fourth.

With the release of your second album coming up, what can fans expect? What’s different about this album?
Gerald: It’s got a certain something special that grabs people. I think of it as secret sauce. To me, this one comes closest to being like that wicked pressing you can’t leave the record store without. It’s powerful and fun to listen to, but the songs are also very intertwined with who we are and the dynamics between us. It’s not a conscious effort, but I believe it taps into the essence of the “here and now” and how we interact with the world around us in a philosophical and existential way. Yeah – It’s just rock and roll, but it means something to us in 2012 and we’re here to express whatever that is. 

Who writes your songs?
Gerald: For Check your Ego, our very talented Queen Chaos (Elaine) wrote the bulk of everything you hear on her trusty acoustic guitar. Songs were mostly pre-written and then we would work through them as a band each, developing our unique parts based on the original progressions. Nowadays it’s more of a family effort where if we’re doing some improvising, I frequently come up with a lot of the song parts on the fly … everyone else joins in to add some serious mojo, and then if the recorder is on and something really special happens, we come back to it later with the whole band working out the arrangements, until it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard! Well, we think so, anyway.  Elaine does all the magic melodies and the bulk of the lyrics. 

Johnny: Sometimes it starts with a jam. Sometimes one of the band members offers up a newly created idea that morphs into a song which we quickly record to conjure up at a later date. 

Walk me through the song writing process. What comes first? The music or the lyrics? Or is the process one giant spontaneous jam session?!
Johnny: The music comes first with Queen Chaos droning some imaginary words which she methodically translates into genuine full blown lyrics.

Elaine: These days our process is much more spontaneous. We have tons of recordings of jam sessions and there seems to always be this unanimous love affair for the same sessions. We get excited and play it over again till it acquires its structure.

Gerald: As mentioned, our writing is very free-form now where everything is developed as an interaction between us. That doesn’t mean that pre-formed ideas are never brought in, but I believe that our collaborative approach has generated something that makes us special, both as friends and musicians. I think people really pick up on that.

What is it like working with an established label rather than on your own (with regards to thing such as publicity, management, promotion?)
Johnny: I don’t know. We have our own label which we call Rat’s Ass Records. We do all the promotion and publicity and are always looking for new ways to attract fans.

Gerald: Our own label was formed for releasing our material and we do much of the PR and networking ourselves. However, we’re at the point now where we’re discussing the idea handing over the reins and hiring people or agencies to take it to the next level. That’s something I would like to see happen for us this year, since doing all the networking, PR and other tasks involved in running a band effectively gets to a point where it becomes overwhelming and detracts from us being able to concentrate on being musicians!

Do you feel like you ever have to compensate your creativity for the preferences of the label? Or are you allotted complete control over your sound.
Gerald: This is the very reason labels scare me. We already have a healthy dose of recording engineers and other industry people trying to influence what we do and sound like! No need to add another layer. Keep it pure Octobre’s Ending!

Johnny: We’ve been true to our creativity. Each time we record we learn something new. It may not always be a good thing, but it’s our music. We do take suggestions from engineers on possibly enhancing our music but in the end we decide what sound we’d like to have.

What do you find more thrilling. Playing shows or hitting the recording studio?
Johnny: For me it’s playing live. Recoding is fun but it’s a lot of work … fun work though. But playing live is such a rush!

Gerald: I think both can be equally thrilling depending on the situation. I love to perform and put on a great show, but I’ve always been a studio guy for the fundamental reason that it’s an achievement that lasts … kind of like a photo album that can be then shared over and over again. I like going through the process of painting with audio and having people around me collaborating to create a historical entity that documents an original vision or idea we shared at a given point in time. Nothing beats coming out of the studio with a bunch of tracks that make people’s jaws drop when they hear them! 

Markus: Actually, I wonder if “thrilling” is the right word. Playing live, it’s a bit like going to war … long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.

Elaine: I enjoy the live shows for its impulsiveness and raw sound. The studio is more pressure when you’re under time restraints, which is great for being efficient. I would love a little more studio time to experiment with doing an album that had more layering and harmonizing.

What is your favorite place to play a show?
Elaine: I always love playing this great little bar on Queen Street West called Not My Dog. Sometimes our sound is a little too loud for the space but the people are great and really supportive.

Gerald: Any outdoor festival where there are people all over the place. I love it when people just wandering around, who would maybe never come to club to see you specifically, stop to check you out and then hang out because they’re enjoying themselves.

Markus: Outside! It eliminates a lot of acoustical problems. If we can’t hear each other, we will suck, and then it’s gonna suck for the audience. This band … we listen to each other! Also, I like to get close to nature. OK, outside and naked.

What is your audience like? Would you say adults or younger people (teens), or mixed crowds?
Gerald: We get all kinds. A lot of people really seem to relate to what we’re doing artistically, and anymore rock fans seem to span all generations. For a while last year, we had a bit of a house party thing going where we would see a lot of familiar faces from show to show. 

Johnny: Generally we play to adults, but have played a few mixed venues for all. Rock and roll seems to transcend all age groups. Just as the 100 drunk seniors that loved our music.

Markus: Our appeal is becoming more selective. We attract people that like good music.

With so many young bands coming onto the scene, do you think it’s been difficult for older or more seasoned musicians to push their brand or their music on younger audiences?
Gerald: The scene has definitely changed over the years. Assisted by cheap technology, rags to riches media portrayal and household phenomenon’s such as Guitar Hero, the percentage of people who are musicians and who are actively involved in trying to be in the business has gone up exponentially in the last couple of decades. The scene used to be hungry for new talent and so were club goers. Now there is an over-saturation of mediocrity that is overwhelming for most people. However, there are lots of resources and technologies that can now be leveraged to create limitless opportunity for musicians to connect with fans all over the world. So every musician or act can effectively find their niche or audience like never before. The world is at your fingertips if you know how to find and interact with the people that have the most potential to connect with your art.

Johnny: Not really. Rock and roll is rock and roll, although it’s very important to find your niche. We have such a vast array of music that there’s always a song that appeals to someone somewhere, no matter the age.

What’s next for Octobre’s Ending!?
Johnny: You never know. A music video would be nice!

Elaine: Currently we are developing songs for our third album. Mark, our new bass player has a different music style than Jeff did which is definitely contributing to reshaping our sound. Mark plays with a pick so the bass offers more punch. Gerald has been switching up his guitar riffs and experimenting with different sounds … even singing backgrounds which helps fill out our sound.

Gerald: Yeah, we’re in the process of moving forward with the third album. We have most of the material written and are already performing tracks live. So we’ll probably be back in the studio later this year making a sweet, sticky mess of audio candy! We’ve also been talking about shooting our first produced video. I’m hoping we can start working on some of our ideas in the next couple of months. I’m still patiently holding the torch with regard to fulfilling my long standing goal of printing some fancy coloured vinyl records!

Octobre’s Ending is:
Elaine Shields – vocals
Gerald – guitar
Markus Zero – bass
Johnny Jailbait – drums/ percussion

I have a point, I promise.

My point is that there’s a thrill to classical music (particularly strings), or least there should be if the musician deserves to be getting paid to play. There’s a thrill to hitting that hard chord or playing a piece so fast that you’re not quite sure your fingers haven’t left your brain completely behind. The knowing glances as the unlikely cello steals first violin’s melody line, the anticipatory “2, 3, 4” before the first official beat, the thrill of making a sound that amazing from  a piece of wood and some metal strings, the sense of honour in playing music that’s been tried and found genius over hundreds of years of history- classical musicians should be responding to the very thrill of the job they have the privilege of doing.  If they aren’t, they should get out of the way because there are generations of artists behind them who are. This is a depressing theme I’ve noticed in Toronto lately. The ageing TSO artists have gotten too settled in their comfy Roy Thompson seats, only a few of them seem to have much fire left. The opera and ballet orchestras (which share many members), on the other hand, are that much younger, that much more energized, that much more fun to watch (if you’re trapped in a boring act as I was last week, a third circle seat and its perfect view into the exuberant pit is a saving grace). But even with those supplemental orchestras picking up the TSO’s slack, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the sort of joyful attack I expect from someone with a classical bow in hand.

Until I saw chamber music group The Art of Time Ensemble.

A small collective of elastic form (string quartet, quintet, plus bass, plus piano, plus clarinet, sans viola- it changes every song), Art of Time has the sort of enthusiastic artistry that infects the audience. I haven’t thought about Kerry and the Suzuki kids in years, but after the Art of Time concert I couldn’t help but rush home to jump into our old go-to, “The Bach Double”, wishing I still had Jordan, Jaqueline and Adam to play alongside me.

The Art of Time concert I had the privilege to attend was Russia in Exile down at the wonderful Harbourfront Enwave Theatre. I was skeptical at best. The Russians have produced none of my favourite pieces of anything and I’ve always adhered to the President Bartlett attitude towards modern music of the classical variety (“Modern music sucks. Anything written after 1860 sucks”- The West Wing). Those prejudices aside, as a violinist, my relationship with Stravinksy (the first composer to be featured in Art of Time’s Russia concert) was… let’s go with “strained”. Art of Time convinced me to put all those issues in a drawer and shut the hell up. Their performance was marvelous, superb, utterly bewildering in its evocation.

First violinist Benjamin Bowman was my favourite, one of only two musicians to perform in all 4 pieces (the other was Art of Time Artistic Director/pianist Andrew Burashko). Bowman is the living example of everything I talked about in all those long-winded and self-indulgent preceding paragraphs. The end of a movement brought about an exhausted sigh and a broad smile from the sweet-faced musician (a key player in the aforementioned excellent ballet/opera orchestras). The harder the piece, the more intense he became- perched precariously on the edge of his seat as if ready to leap up at any moment, sawing the horse hairs off his fast-flying bow. The other performers were all equally brilliant, though not quite as dynamic (most came close, though, which is quite the feat). I particularly enjoyed the sheer mastery of Thomas Wiebe on the cello and the hair-flying fun of quirky bassist Joseph Phillips.

The night’s best song, Mikhail Glinka’s “Grand Sextet in E-Flat Major”, was stunningly beautiful with a stripped-down performance of the complex but melodic piece. The third offering, while overwhelmingly impressive (these guys can PLAY, let there be no mistake that they could be sacrificing technique for artistry and performance value), was a prime example of why I’m skittish about modern-classical. Unlike Glinka’s piece which managed to be affecting and enjoyable, “Piano Quintet” by Alfred Schnittke was simply ugly. The other three pieces of the night (which ranged from decent to wonderful) all had profound melody and heartstring-plucking soar to go with their innovative “modern”-ness, but the Schnittke just made me want these glorious musicians to stop playing. My plus one for the evening enjoyed the insanity of that third piece (mostly because she struggled to stay awake during the prettier ones), and I’m sure if I’d brought someone with an affinity for the score of Love From Afar over Tosca, they would have agreed. But, for my part, I’d just as well never hear the name Schnittke again, let alone the strains of his awkwardly placed notes.

The first and last pieces, the more forgettable of the night, were accompanied by somewhat nonsensical films by Tess Girard. Like the Schnittke, they were arty to the point of incoherent silliness, but they were far from ugly and largely ignorable, adding to the pieces every once in awhile but not as often as intended.

Burashko took his Artistic Director role to the point of Emceeing, which worked to a mixed effect. It was nice to hear the stories behind the songs (particularly interesting was the origin of the Prokofiev piece that closed the show- a simple opus with catchy Jewish motifs that reflect its reason d’etre) and Burashko made a charming narrator. I do always appreciate a word from the AD as they often give the audience a sense of the ensemble’s founding principles and current direction, but Burashko was in desperate need of some editing. Prepared notes would have cut down on his candid charm but they could have also cut probably about 2 minutes each off the draggy transitions.

Nitpicks aside, I left The Art of Time Ensemble with a renewed love of classical music and, specifically, strings (I grew up with the violin but have always been and will always be obsessed with the cello). With the Glinka, the group managed to make me fall madly in love with a new composer. With their take on Stravinksy’s “L’Histoire du Soldat: Suite”, they made me forgive him for our past disagreements, and with their bombastically loving ensemble of artists, they gave me hope that there are still classical musicians out there who love to play as much as I once did (hopefully, more).

For those who are unaware, Record Store Day has been running steadily for five years and was created keeping the spirit of independent record stores in mind. That means that your local record shop (the one where you spend hours upon hours sifting through some serious tunes, to the point where addiction settles in) is the coolest place to be (hipsters be warned).

With a goal in mind and song in my head I decided to head down to my favourite record store (Sonic Boom) and get into the spirit of one-day-only releases, live bands and free stuff. Unfortunately due the insanely rocking crowds and urge to dance along to the live bands, I was unable to search for any of the hot releases I had in mind. I was not bitter about this however, since the friendliness of the crowd spread like a plague and turned the record store into one giant rock festival (with headliners including Army Girls, Born Ruffians, The Darcys, The Elwins and many more).

It was a wonderful thing to see a massive crowd of music lovers gather together and sway their bodies in sync to the live bands. It was even enlightening to know that they were all there with the same mentality and love for their local music shop, celebrating it as a place of discovery and memory, rather than a market-driven ploy.

Even with the high surge of downloading within the music business there is still a huge number of individuals young and old, who crave the feeling of being able to hold that brand new CD in their hands, or inspect a floppy, dusty vinyl for scratches. And even though it’s been said time and again that record stores will slowly disappear, there are music fans everywhere that will tell you that sifting through the isles definitely beats scrolling through lists on iTunes. Going to record stores and seeing the tangible side of music offers you a sense of escapism and a way to experiment with finding new bands and artists. There is even something slightly mysterious about walking up and down the aisles of a record store, and spotting something completely out of your repertoire, simply because the album art drew you in. And it doesn’t even have to be a locally declared “record store day” to appreciate the tangible side to music, or to engage in a time consuming rant about your top five albums of all time.

Although there is still the familiarity of the grassroots, Eastern Canadian folk feel that fans fell in love with from the their first release, The Wooden Sky have attempted to stretch their musical abilities and spill right into genres that were new to their sound. This time using brass instrumentals and even louder synths (not to mention a new hint of grunge-sounding guitar riffs), added an unfamiliar vibe to this album but fell rather nicely amidst their signature twang,

“Child of the Valley,” the first track on the album, can perhaps be best described as a sort of lullaby that is likely to send chills down the spine. Although it appears to be somber and dark, the gentle acoustic melody and violin background tunes brighten up the track, but are almost always overshadowed by lead singer Gavin Gardener’s raspy, soulful voice.

However tracks like “Take Me Out” are the most apparent revelation of the band’s ability to channel old-school rock and roll love tunes, and automatically shift your mind’s eye from a grassy countryside to a dim lit 50s slow dance scene.

As a collective, this album appears to be one of many climatic points for The Wooden Sky. It is the outcome of their time spent on the road, bonding with one another, making new friends and running into old ones. It is a declaration of their growth as a band and is pleasurably not a repeat of their past albums. It is in fact a refreshing take on a familiar and still recognizable sound, that isn’t overwhelmingly redundant.

Currently, The Wooden Sky is working on a five song video EP to go along with the new album and are on the road for their North American tour.

Starting at the beginning, the accessibility of lead single and opening track, “It All Means Nothing,” sets the stage for a classic Females release. Right down to the first few seconds of drone, we have a blaring lead guitar being coupled with an ever-shifting bass and drum conversation. Not even two minutes in, the banshee calls of Marissa Posternaster’s riffs take over and into a sweet interlude while her shaky sneers spit out lyrics like, “you take what’s mine and face me like you’re blind / It all means nothing.” “It All Means Nothing” is the kind of track you introduce people to when showing them this band for the first time. A blueprint for understanding their intricacies and delivery.

Marissa’s always been quick to go from scream to snarl but this album finds her vocally on par with her abilities as a guitarist – which is quite a feat in and of itself. The slanted approach to her singing has given it a certain distinction that’s become readily identifiable. King Mike keeps our timing together while Jarrett subtly adds a layer of percussion underneath that is both driving and directed. The impeccable mix of punk, rock, surf, and (now!) metal have given the band their first song above five minutes and easily the best showcase of their individual talents. “Doom 84” is heavy, hard, and loud. Like, this-amp-goes-to-eleven-loud. The shift from good song to great song happens about halfway through when the trio let loose and throw-down such a gnarly riff after a scorcher of a solo you’re left dumbfounded; only to have your throat gripped up right as Posternaster hisses, “I need you to show me what your genius can do / so I can hide / you piss on my pillow / your filth in my veins / and I will make sure I don’t mistakes.” It’s a powerhouse song and something I can’t wait to see translated live.

Thematically, the (maybe meta) desperation for recognition tips it hat throughout the album, highlighted by tracks such as “Rotten Apple,” “Extinction,” & “Leave it All Up to Me.” Not to say that the band is looking for mainstream success or anything of that nature but one can only think that after five albums, how much longer are they with being the badass opener? They owned bringing The Dead Weather up on stage, almost casted a shadow on the headliner from their presence but they’re still not the ones going on late for some reason. Ugly wears all the reasons for that transition to happen and I firmly believe this album will be the break Females need – especially with the originality in their sound in a day where we’re domineered by shoegaze/dreampop/homegrown indie. Ugly is a big step for the band and it’s far from the end however, it’s this wonderful entanglement of past and future that makes you stop and appreciate the craft that is independent punk rock.

Cedric’s vocals and lyrical style have always been a highlight for me. His delivery, vocabulary and range is incredible almost to a point where it distances listeners. Throughout this album however, his layered presentation is at its most accessible, at its most poignant and within a tangible reality. The beauty of this album is that it focuses on tracks that have highlighted his ability at true singing instead of the cackling he can digress into at times. Songs like “Asilos Magdalena” or “Televators,” from Vicarious Atonement & De-loused in the Comatorium respectively, are spiritually revisited here thematically and wholly. Slow, echoing guitars blend over his falsetto style which lead to a very sobering experience. Most notably “Empty Vessels Make the Loudest Sound,” a beautifully done ballad about forgiveness.

That kind of exemplary work however can be undercut by some of the more straying pieces of the album. Adding too many instruments was never a problem for Volta but its seemed they went a little overkill with the some extraneous pianos. Dissonance has always been a powerful tool for the band so it was a shame to see it fall short – even if it’s momentary. Regardless, overall this album boasts one of the most sobering interactions you can have with The Mars Volta. As a listener, you’re more inclined to flatten out and be so intwined with their sound that it’s a little uncomfortable; solely due to the fact of what we’re accustomed to expect from them.

Bare-boned and vulnerable, Rossen brings us into his  brooding and encapsulating echo of a world with “Up On High.” Violins, simple picking, and chamber vocals depict images of a “…mouth full of stones / grinding your teeth / speak for me.” As we progress, his continuous plea for another’s voice is met with a caustic slide guitar that wails above all else; the layering of sounds has clearly carried over from Bear.

The sound shifts into a coupling of breezy sea tracks that swim around in melancholy and longing for solid ground split by a glam-rocking power track. . As uplifting as the chords and progression are here – they are taken under just as fast with their lyrical delivery and burning wall of sound. An immediate connection to Elliot Smith comes to mind.  Piano driven “Saint Nothing” takes the wind right out of the strength “Return To Form” built before it. Rossen’s barely audible deliveries of “no’s” only add to the anguish this album brings. The Grizzly Bear vocalist displays his feelings of lonesomeness and longing all while keeping us grounded and connected to every ounce of his pain.

Now, we here at My Entertainment World are supporters of Romney, or, at least we’re supporters of his generally sane-seeming bid for the right to lose to Obama in November (as opposed to the other 500 completely insane people who ran for the spot… or are still running *sigh*). But we, like the rest of the world, just wish he would stick to his own thoughts and feelings instead of wandering around looking for the popular thing to say (more on this subject in our upcoming Game Change review). Thus, we dedicate this wonderfully clever parody to him and his quest for his own identity. We also dedicate it to the endlessly cool Barack Obama (who we trust will show Romney how it’s done come the fall) and Mr. Marshall Bruce Mathers III himself, without whom the iconic fun of this video just wouldn’t be possible.

However, where it’s easy to draw their sources of inspiration and brethren, The Men’s genre spanning release is a beast all in its own. Sprawling interludes such as “Country Song” or the ever-building crescendo that is “Oscillation,” this album packs so many layers and emotions into ten tracks that few artists can do it over two CDs. On “Please Don’t Go Away,” we’re given a potent wall of sound that gets swept away with “ooohs” from supporting members. Transitioning from this we get warped into Buzzcocks mode for the title track; I’m even going far enough to call it a spiritual coupling to “Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve),” because that wouldn’t be to far off.

Open Your Heart has all the growth a listener can ask for from a band they’re invested in. It’s not a departure, it’s not a repeat – it’s progression that draws in all the good and expands. You’ll find the bitterness of 2011’s Leave Home as often as witnessing a new set of ideals and interactions. Remnants aren’t detrimental for The Men and after this album, there’ll be nothing left of your brain but pieces.

Now, through 15 tracks he flies solo. Happily, it’s never off the handle and K.R.I.T. shows he doesn’t need any backing because he has plenty to say in force and depth. With an ability to go between tame, saxophone ridden tracks such as “Wake Up” to the layered, southern slammers like “Country Rap Tunes,” K.R.I.T. doesn’t let up on showing his will to want more and go after success – regardless of the cost. And throughout of all that desire and drive, he walks this fine line of never overreaching or spitting that he’s the best or talking up his future endeavors.

Incredible production and rapped with a ferocity rivaled by few right now, K.R.I.T.’s 4Eva N A Day is a fantastic stepping stone that’s firmly cemented in a blazing path to hip hop longevity.

The Big Pink

London-based duo, The Big Pink, has been around for a few years now. They released their first album back in 2009 and its electro-rock dancetude got them opening for TV On The Radio in no time. After a remix album called Tapes, Milo and Robbie came back with their latest effort Future This and nailed it. The album gives off this “Robert Smith writes LCD Soundsystem songs” and it’ll definitely make spring-cleaning a breeze. The track “Lose Your Mind” is definitely a highlight and a fun way to get into the layering The Big Pink offers. Robbie’s vocals drift over an ever-building array of structured samples and synths until it explodes into an anthem-like chorus.

Bleeding Knees Club

On Bleeding Knees Club’s Facebook page, they have “skipping” listed under their Interests. The only thing these Aussies skip are their knees right into your face with this thrash-surf punk sound that’s all about stage dives and bar slides. Taking a cue from their mates in Wavves, BKC invites you to a shamalama beach show that’s outfitted with acid wash jeans and non-stop noise. A Ramones revival band for sure since ya know, according to lead singer Alex Wall, “we hate long songs.” Their 2010 EP Virginity is all about that sunburned fun. Expect this April’s Nothing To Do to give you plenty to beep-bop rock out to.

Chairlift

Our dreampop shoegazers from Brooklyn released their sophomore album late in January. Something was met with phenomenal reviews. Caroline Polachek channels her inner Mazzy Star as Patrick Wimberly paints soundscapes with ethereal textures. The twosome brought in Dan Carey & Alan Moulder to add even more depth to the hypnotic mood already in motion. Moulder, who you may know from his work with Depeche Mode or Nine Inch Nails has his dark, doom-stamp throughout the album while Carey brings in the dance-pop to balance. It’s a tight-knit effort from a loose, fun band that takes you to the 80’s and doesn’t make you feel weird about it.

Curren$y

One of the hardest, most overlooked rappers in the scene right now, to me, is Curren$y. Since 2009, the N’Orleans native has released six albums including his most recent Muscle Car Chronicles that just dropped this past Valentine’s Day. He’s got two more solo tapes that’ll be making their way out later this year along with ANOTHER TWO collaboration albums – one with Chuck Inglish of The Cool Kids and another with producer The Alchemist. Curren$y features some of the best production in business, especially when he brings in the local horns and samples some of the best second lines the south has to offer. These smooth beats play right into his laid back delivery. Curren$y’s drawl & twang is his appeal and it never tires – much like him.

Frank Ocean

Although this name may be completely new to you, you’ve heard Frank Ocean’s voice. Featured on one of the, if not the biggest albums of 2011, Ocean played an essential role on the opening hook to Watch The Throne. “No Church In The Wild” is a classic back and forth between two rappers while a third artist, an R&B artist, bridges the verses with smooth vocals. The Odd Future member is beginning to come out from between the lines and garner some critical attention since he just released his own debut mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra. And it’s well deserved. There’s this certain level of raunchy, dark, R&B Ocean’s hitting and I’m personally excited to see what he has to offer when he’s given a little more money and if the single “Novacane” is indicative to anything he plans on doing in the future you should be excited to.

Grimes

Through the headlining Beethovan concerto, featured pianist Anto Kuerti provided a pretty, tinkling melody atop a somewhat spiritless rendition of one of the master composer’s more forgettable works.

The night picked up, however, with the somewhat unexpected energy of the Shostakovich- Symphony No. 10 in E Minor, Op. 93. The composer did provide, as is expected with contemporaries from the 20th century, the occasional unpleasant a-melodic section, but the sheer fun of the hyper Allegro movement inspired the energetic buzz required to liven up the orchestra and easily made up for any modernist posturing.

Here is where individual performers began to stand out. Associate and Assistant Concertmasters Mark Skazinetsky and Etsuko Kimura shone, performance-wise, amongst the first violins (Concertmaster Jonthan Crow was, sadly, absent); Camille Watts produced a beautiful piccolo line and I would compliment the timpanist on his gusto but the program tells me David Kent is on sabbatical so the identity of said timpanist is a mystery. (In general, though I appreciate the group mentality, the lack of musician celebration at the TSO is somewhat sad- I’m not saying they each need a full-page feature, but an up-to-date list in the program that features the musicians with more prominence than the donors might be nice. As it is, it’s impossible to keep straight who’s who; there wasn’t even an insert to clue the audience in that Skazinetsky would be first chair for the evening in Crow’s place).

The February 2, 4 concert series was a mixed bag that featured some sure high points but was also a testament to just how much Peter Oundjian livens up the proceedings.

The Boss kicked off the festivities like the superstar that he is, playing with the dearly departed Clarence Clemons’ nephew and the rest of the E Street Band on his new single “We Take Care Of Our Own” (which I’m downloading this very second).

He was followed by the first appearance by host LL Cool J, who welcomed us to a Grammy night fully in the shadow of Whitney Houston, who died just over 24 hours earlier at the so-low age of 48 in her Beverley Hills hotel room. The memory of one of music’s saddest and most beloved wonderwomen was given its due credit here with a prayer led by Cool and a clip of the singer’s greatest “Grammy Moment”, then later on with an emotional performance by Jennifer Hudson of Whitney’s iconic “I Will Always Love You”. But LL Cool J kept the night moving, as he did for the 3.5 hours that followed, by encouraging the audience and artists to not be afraid to celebrate despite the tragedy, to focus on the power of music and the amazing talent that’s still with us.

In that spirit, Bruno Mars really got us started with a sensational, high octane performance of “Runaway Baby”. I love Bruno but I’ve never loved “Runaway Baby”, until last night. His oldschool sparkle and incomparably flirty charm was just what the room needed to remember the happy. A moving tribute to Etta James from the ever-soulful Alicia Keys and Bonnie Raitt followed, but had much more of a “thank you” than a “we miss you” feel and the energy stayed up.

There were 2 tributes to living performers: The Beach Boys and Glen Campbell, wherein aging stars sang their hits alongside the hot stars in their footsteps. The camera was obsessed with Adam Levine during the loving Beach Boys reunion (I mean, who isn’t obsessed with Adam Levine?) and The Band Perry stole the Campbell show (sorry Blake, I love you, but you were boring).  And boy was it fun to see the crowd rocking out to “Rhinestone Cowboy”, including the enthusiastically awkward bopping of Sir. Paul McCartney.

A myriad of decent performances took over the night. Foo Fighters (led by my beloved Dave Grohl) were relegated to a satellite performance space while performances ranging from acceptable to mediocre took to the main stage, including the likes of Chris Brown, Jason Aldean & Kelly Clarkson and Rihanna & Coldplay. Both Brown and Foo Fighters made second appearances as part of an over-the-top ode to electronic dance music (with Lil’Wayne and DJs David Guetta and deadmau5). Katy Perry started off crazy machine-voiced then proved her usual exuberantly fun self after a staged blackout, but all her theatrics (and blue hair and spandex) just made me more excited to see Adele stand still in front of microphone, dressed in a simple black dress, singing (more on that in a moment). My favourite girl, Taylor Swift, got all dressed up in a dowdy dress and pulled out her banjo to sing her bully-defiant anthem “Mean” with her usual adorable enthusiasm and Best New Artist-loser Nicki Minaj put on a crazy show that I will admit to fastforwarding through but I do think she deserved that trophy (which went to Grammy-hater Bon Iver instead, prompting the most awkward acceptance speech I’ve ever heard). Paul McCartney and Tony Bennett (with Carrie Underwood) were the other big performers of the night, and the insane reverence the celeb-filled crowd showed in the presence of the Beatle extraordinaire proved a great testament to the Gaga-less back-to-basics theme of the night…

…a theme driven home by the night’s big winner- Ms. Adele Adkins, nominated for 6 trophies and set to perform for the first time in months since her surgery last fall. The superstar set about conquering the Grammys last night (having won 2 for her previous album 19- Best New Artist and Best Female Pop Vocal), first of all, by looking insanely beautiful with coiffed hair, her signature retro makeup and two different stunning black dresses (the first, more showy; the second-  more Kelly jealous-making). Then the awards started raking up until she’d completely swept all 6 of her categories (Best Solo Pop Vocal, Pop Album, Record of the Year, Song of the Year, Album of the Year and Best Short-Form Music Video- the last being the only one I’m not sure was a surefire win).  But the highlight of our night with Adele came when she finally took the the stage after that painfully long hiatus. All night we’d been watching “performers” but when Adele took to the mic we were finally watching a singer, a point she proved by starting effortlessly acapella. “Rolling in the Deep” is a massively hard song to sing- one of the hardest I’ve heard- but Adele shattered it, barely seeming to need to draw breath before sending the chorus to the rafters. Sound aside, she looked a little uncomfy to start out but her trademark sass started to permeate as she sank into the performance. Anyone who thought she might return from medical leave not up to her former standards were given their moment to crawl away in shame as the (generally massively talented/famous in their own right) crowd stood in exuberant applause for so long that they weren’t even slowing down when we finally cut for commercial.

Dave's acceptance speech for Rock Album of the Year was as beautiful and inspiring as they come.

The other awards went to mostly predictable winners, including Lady Antebellum for Best Country Album, wins for both of Kanye’s big 2011 projects and the obvious Book of Mormon for Musical Soundtrack. Betty White beat out Tina Fey in the spoken word category (really? no Bossypants love?) and Louis CK (who else?) took home comedy album. Foo Fighters picked up 5 trophies, Amy Winehouse’s predicted posthumous win for her duet with Tony Bennett came true, Taylor scored a Grammy each for performing and writing “Mean”, and even Chis Brown took home the R&B Album trophy. Most of that happened offcamera, though. We were so busy watching performances that it was barely noticeably how very few awards got air time.

After the show, some of my more music- inclined Facebook friends were all sorts of up-in-arms about the winners, but I make no claims on music sophistication and thus am as pretension free as I can get about it (we’ll talk after the Oscars, that’s when you’ll hear me up-in-arms). I love Adele and couldn’t have been happier to see her sweep. I’m also fond of Foo Fighters not because of their music but because I think Dave Grohl is a cool dude who does it for the love of it- and that’s the whole point. I’m fond of Adam Levine and Blake Shelton, I’ll admit it, because of The Voice. I love Taylor and Kelly Clarkson and don’t have a real reason to backup my dislike of Rihanna so I’ll keep quiet about it (though I will point out that my extreme dislike of Gaga came in handy this year as she barely appeared on screen at all). The winners may not have been particularly inspired but the show was a rollicking good time so I’ll take it as it was, thank you very much.

I do believe however, that there is something wrong with this accessibility. It’s paved the way for people to just ignore the world around them as much as it has helped bring it closer to them. There’s a catch twenty-two nowadays because the world runs via download but experience is found on a keyboard. I feel that live shows are slowly becoming a thing of the past and that breaks my heart. Hands down, I truly feel that live music is one of the most full-body, warming moments of anyone’s life. There’s a connection between artist and viewer when you go that gets lost on a CD or iPod. It’s visceral and long lasting, something that’s unique to you even if you go with friends.

Everybody focuses on different moments and nuances by the performers. Nothing beats coming out of a good show – no matter where it’s put on.

Festivals

If you’ve never been to a weekend festival, please, pencil one in for this upcoming year. I’ve been lucky enough to have gotten to a few in my short little life and I promise you that it has never been the same since. Especially when I was able to go to Lollapalooza in 2008. That first weekend in August gave me more memories than I could ever have asked for – even if I may have gotten the ever-loving crap beat out me. More on that later.

First off, just traveling to another city is an amazing time. Granted, you’re going for music so you may not get to witness the city as much as you like but there are moments when there may be a lull in who you want to see and who is coming up next and you get to walk around Chicago or Indio. Or after the shows and during the night you can enjoy yourself some of the local bar scene. You’ll bond with fellow weekenders and hell, maybe fall in love with that girl or guy you bumped into at the water station.

The beauty of the festival lifestyle is that you are completely immersed in music and see things slowly build and then crescendo into chaos that’s organized and safe. Unless you were at that 2008 Lolla show when Rage Against the Machine performed. I walked away with a concussion and half a shirt despite Rage asking the crowd to stop due to the massive mosh pit that had collapsed around me. That’s the only time I’ve ever been worried at a show like this but that also comes with the territory. The sheer number of people can overwhelm the artists from time to time. Granted, it was a Rage reunion show so if you weren’t concussed, you weren’t living.

Witnessing all of these people, bands & energy, it wakes you up and shines culture right into your eyes. The purity of your reaction to the weekend is priceless. You walk out of there bathing in what just transpired and regardless of whether you’re limping while you walk, you feel something new leaving and that’s what makes festivals worthwhile.

Arena Shows

Now, before I begin, I’m not huge on arena shows. I respect and understand their appeal but most of the bands I listen to either break up before they reach this level or just don’t play these kinds of shows. I’m going to go to my first one in New York when I see The Black Keys with The Arctic Monkeys and I wouldn’t even be lying if I said I’m hesitant as equally as I am stoked.

Here’s how I feel: arena shows are hit or miss and that scares me. You’re getting a massive crowd of people, paying a pretty hefty price, all hoping to hear that one single from an artist that gets a lot of airplay on the radio. This can lead to some sour apples around you and nobody enjoys that. However, when an artist has the chance to play in an arena, that also means they’re going to have some money to go into the production of the concert and that’s the sell. You get Lady Gaga/Rihanna shows with elaborate sets and casts of characters and get this brilliant spectacle of performance and sound. Costume changes, marathon dancing, and lasers. What else could you ask for?

The potential downfall is that you may not like that particular show. Most bands deliver but I hear horror stories sometimes so I take each with a grain of salt. I put faith into certain bands, such as Tool, who I know will deliver so I don’t even hesitate. But then when a band like The Black Keys plays a venue like Madison Square Garden, I wonder what this ‘garage-rock’ style band will deliver when I give them 65$. I guess I’ll have to follow up this article with that reaction when the time comes.

Concert Halls

Concert halls are a delight for most. You got your moderately priced tickets, usually two openers – one you know and one you probably don’t, and then the ease of drinking and enjoying with no concern for stupid antics. When I refer to concert halls I mean things like Terminal 5 (New York) or The Electric Factory (Philadelphia). The sole purpose of the venue is music and the performing arts. These are the concertgoers that follow artists through cities since the shows are cheap enough and strung together where they can do the drive up the coast or across state so walking you in know that everybody there has one frame of mind – enjoy the music.

I recently saw Chromeo with Mayer Hawthorne at the aforementioned Terminal 5 and holy crap that was fun. Not a single person stood still yet you weren’t bothered by anyone around you. And if they did bump you, since you are all so happy to be there, you are apologized to. Win-win. It’s a powerful thing when a select group of strangers all get chills at the same time and start screaming for me or come together to chant on encores or harmonize with the performers. Mayer Hawthorne likes to take a shot for Instagram each show and nobody yells about him not playing for two minutes while it gets set up and taken because it’s hilarious and enjoyable.

These are your twenty five to forty dollar shows and they’re always worth the price. Get their early enough and you’ll get against the rail in the front of the stage and then you’ll see the sweat and effort that really goes into making the music their playing for you tonight. It’s a stunning moment to witness something you respect so highly to be so tangible.

Local Venues

I couldn’t come up with a name for this type of venue but I’m happy I didn’t to be honest because much like the title, you can’t put your finger on why these shows are so good. Or so bad. Sometimes, you get the perfect crowd, acoustics, and drink specials and then the lead singer’s sick. Or maybe everything’s just so-so. Then there’s the beautiful moment where all is one with the world and your favorite up-and-comers blow your minds for ten dollars.

That happened at the Mercury Lounge (New York) when I saw The Loom perform a late show there after Dry The River put on a relatively decent show. I had never heard River before and didn’t need to after simply because they couldn’t make up their mind about their own sound so I couldn’t either. It went from screamcore to acoustic ballads and yes – range is good, but only when you can hit that range fluidly.

Afterwards, everybody left for some reason and about fifteen of us stayed for The Loom and they delivered us this perfectly crafted heel-stomp sound from Brooklyn that you pray for when you pay ten dollars for a show. They have a French Horn for Pete’s sake!

Beyond the horn though, there was a moment that happened between my group and another team of four. So there was a girl doing interpretive dance to the band. Now The Loom is a band that’s a part of the Western Indie scene if I could sum it up in one phrase. It’s not a band you dance to per se but moreover just kind of be with. This clown that was dancing didn’t get that memo but it led to me looking over at the people to the left and seeing them laughing as well. And we bonded over it. Yes, good on the girl for being free and all but there’s a time and a place. A relatively empty back-bar stage is not a place for your antics.

What I’m getting at is that with each of these shows, you can get that outlier that doesn’t fit in. Whether it’s the entire show or just some hippie at the wrong show, local shows can be distancing or completely arresting with being so intimate.

Shows build relationships. That’s the point I’m trying to make. It’s a night where you and your significant other can bond over a song you both found at the same time randomly or you can meet somebody there that’s wearing the same Leonard Cohen shirt and have a laugh about how ridiculous you two are. There are moments and memories to be had and made when you see anyone play live. Disregarding genre and venue, the sense of truth and soul you get when you see somebody on stage performing in a way they’ll never mimic again is empowering and enlightening. I implore you to support your local scene and head out. Who knows, maybe one of those YouTube videos you keep going to watch cause you love the specific note the singer hits so much can be yours one day.