The CanCon Catalogue

If you've never been to the Alix Goolden Hall in Victoria, British Columbia, then consider yourself among those who have not experienced one of the better concert venues around. And if you've never seen Jill Barber in concert, then consider yourself among those who have not experienced one of Canada's better live performances. And so, if you were among those who saw Ms. Barber at the Alix Goolden last night, you may consider yourself lucky.

The show was opened by a game David Myles, who entertained the crowd with the story behind the song he wrote to convince his wife to marry him ("I wrote it five years ago, and we got married last fall, so it didn't work as well as I wanted it, too") and how despite being an East Coaster, failed to visit Cape Breton for years because he had it so built up in his mind. An old friend of Barber's, he was a good fit for the opening act.

Barber, for her part, took to the stage with a four piece band that included a stand-up bass and multi-instrumentalist (violin, clarinet, saxophone) and a glittery backdrop that was, apparently, the first thing she ever bought online. I was curious as to how she was going to mix the fifties soul sound of her most recent disc, "Chances" with the singer-songwriter-country-folk fare of her earlier releases, but she pulled it off ably. She started with a couple of "Chances" songs, before donning a guitar and delving into her back catalogue. She switched back and forth throughout, sometimes losing band members for the more intimate numbers. What gave it all continuity was her gift for putting fresh legs on old themes (love found, love lost, love never had), and her formidable pipes. Powerful but never overdone, she can lay claim to being a female chanteuse in the tradition of Patsy Cline.

The highlight of the night came with the last song before the inevitable encore, this is when she pulled out "Chances" first single, the propulsive, call-and-response blues of "Oh My My." With the audience joining in, the band going all out, and the church setting, you could easily picture a similar sound coming out of a southern gospel church circa 1923. Alas, that's the only song she has in that style, I'm sure if she wrote a few more, there would have been dancing in the aisles. As it was, there was simply a rush to the merchandise table. Definitely a show to check out.

Jill Barber plays Vancouver tonight at The Rio Theatre and in Penticton, BC, on April 5 at the Dream Cafe.

I'm a bit behind on my live reviews, so I'm condensing them into one post here.

First, the Tranzmitors at Lucky Bar last Friday. I was relieved to see that Lucky, which I'm going to be seeing more than a few more shows at, is a good and honest rock bar, well set up for drinking, dancing, or just watching. The Tranzmitors make the kind of music for doing the first two, and the audience obliged. They clearly learned from the past, taking to the stage with skinny suits and vintage gear, including an Ace Tone keyboard, which is probably the only kind of keyboard that should be allowed in bands like that from now on.

Between the jagged guitar, vocal harmonies, and ska-influenced keyboard, I couldn't help but feel like  I was seeing the logical next step in a lineup that starts with Buddy Holly, moves over to the Beatles pre-Please, Please Me, and was picked up by the Clash of 1977, the Specials, and Elvis Costello. If you ever wished you could have been packed into the sweaty early shows of those groups, the Tranzmitors are a must-see.

****

On to Hawksely Workman, who also draws on rock history, only a lot more of it comes from the 80's and the alt-rock movement. Opening act Geoff Berner was... interesting... as a one-man accordion band who writes songs about World War II and government programs that are cut while the Olympics continue to get funding. There were laughs, yes, but awkward, awkward laughs, too.



As for Workman-- well, he can sing and he can play the guitar, no question, but it would be nice if he spent a little more time doing it and less time telling long, rambling stories that go nowhere, are unrelated to the song, and are full of pauses as he tries to think of words that I don't think once came to him. Banter is one thing, but this was more listening to a less humorous Grandpa Simpson.

As much as I might be rattling old-school Workman fans here (if there are any), this is an act who could benefit a lot more from focusing on his newest albums and ditching his back catalogue save for a few songs. Between the Beautifuls is easily his strongest album and he only deemed to play one song from it, "The City is A Drag," completely foregoing "Piano Blink," one of the single best songs of the last three years, and one that he actually has placed on CD THREE times over the last year. Why would you not play it?



Instead, he chose to focus on his Eurocentric dance-rock stuff, resulting in extended jam-ups that were only interesting half the time. Basically it was song (3 minutes) jam (4 minutes) awkward talk (3 minutes), which drains a lot of the momentum. The only place it really picked up was when "I'm Jealous of Your Cigarette" went into a medley of the Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again," and then, INSTEAD OF AWKWARD BANTER, they went right into "Striptease." He also spent some time with ballads, such as the opening song "Almost a Full Moon," which musically has the gravitas of U2, but whose feeling is undermined by shopping list lyrics ("Pumpkin and parsnip, carrots and turkey bones/Bay leaf and pepper, potato and garlic cloves," ending with multiple repeats of "Let's make some soup"). Again, given the strength of the lyrics on his later work, it just seemed odd he would spend time with this.


In the interest of full-disclosure, he did get a standing ovation and an encore, but in my opininon people are WAY too generous with both of those things these days, and the encore was just an attempt to get him to play the songs that people came to hear (he did do "Smoke Baby," but, as I said, no "Piano Blink"), and if it weren't for the fact that we were blocked in, we probably would have taken the opportunity to leave early. If you're an old-school fan, yeah, you'll like the show, but otherwise I wouldn't go over a $20 ticket price.

Tuesday Revue: In which I write about the new releases that might actually be worth checking out.


The Tuesday Revue: Remember back before the internet? Back when if you wanted to hear a new album you actually had to wait for it to be released, and then go, physically GO, buy it? Those days sucked, right? But there was also something to the experience of carefully considering which works were worth your time and cash, and then experiencing them as a whole. The Tuesday Revue tries to present, for your consideration, albums that might actually be worth more investment than the time it takes to find a torrent. This week: Gentleman Reg and K'naan.


I. Gentleman Reg- Jet Black

I don't know whether it's microtizing or a huge marketing blitz across the spectrum (my money's on the former), buts ads for this release have been following me around the internet for the past much. Fair enough. Because from a marketer's perspective, this album is right up my alley: a semi-quirky singer-songwriter who is a former member of the Hidden Cameras and Broken Social Scene member and is regularly compared to (and works with) Sufjan Stevens releases his long-anticipated fourth album? That's definitely within my niche, even if I have the same amount of passion for Sufjan Stevens as I do for, I don't know, flax (I'm aware it exists and may even get a taste once in a while, but darned if I know or remember-- how's that for a metaphor?)

But even with the targeted marketing coming my way and the buzz coming out of ear-to-the-ground outlets as far back as November '08, I really expected to shrug my shoulders at this one, so when I actually sat down to give it a listen, I came out surprised. The first fourteen seconds of the first song, "Coastlines" had me thinking all my expectations were correct: acoustic guitar? Check. Lo-fi vocals? Check. Backing female vocals that sound like someone's sister? Check. But then, fifteen seconds in the song drops in key for mere moments, and suddenly the song sounds like mid-90s alt rock circa the Foo Fighters, and then at 0:36 there's actually some Talking Heads style guitar noodling. When the not-quite honky-tonk piano comes in, I'm sold.

And that's where Gentlemen Reg gets his strength. He plays the style of 2007-2009 indie rock that we all love to hate, but it's rooted in and draws from (alt) rock history, throwing in enough variety to keep it interesting. "When Heroes Switch Professions" sounds like it's recorded underwater, "How We Exit" has some Queen of the Stones Age type riffiage going on, and "Rudy" cribs an organ line from the Trojan Records catalogue. Every song has at least three distinct parts to it, and the variety of instruments is always used for effect, not novelty. Don't get me wrong, with the possible exception of "We're In A Thunderstorm," which draws on the trance movement of a decade ago, this album is firmly within the "twee" (if that's the word) singer-songwriter spectrum, but is better than average.

If nothing else, check out the first single "You Can't Get It Back," (posted below). This is a definite highlight, with Reg at his most rock and roll, the mumbled lyrics coming off like Hayden and the slightly distorted guitar coming off like Randy Bachman.

You can preview the whole album at Gentleman Reg's myspace, and you can buy the album from Arts and Crafts or cheaper at Zunior.

"Coastlines"




Next Review: K'naan, "Troubadour"

Tuesday Revue: In which I write about the new releases that might actually be worth checking out.


The Tuesday Revue: Remember back before the internet? Back when if you wanted to hear a new album you actually had to wait for it to be released, and then go, physically GO, buy it? Those days sucked, right? But there was also something to the experience of carefully considering which works were worth your time and cash, and then experiencing them as a whole. The Tuesday Revue tries to present, for your consideration, albums that might actually be worth more investment than the time it takes to find a torrent. This week: Gentleman Reg and K'naan.

II. K'naan- Troubadour

Like Gentleman Reg, this is that rare indie Canadian release that comes with a lot of pre-release buzz, although this time I think it's a little more mainstream. As the X3 Artist of the Month K'naan has been getting love from CBC Radio 3, aux.tv, and Exclaim! magazine, but perhaps more notably (in terms of the level of exposure he's experiencing) he's been everywhere from CNN to Jimmy Kimmel over the last month. Say what you will, he's out there working.

Musically, Troubadour starts out promisingly enough with TIA (standing for This Is Africa), with a beat that could almost be an M.I.A. throwaway. For anyone who listened to The Dusty Foot Philosopher, we are immediately given a familiar theme: Africa is way, way, way worse than anything most North American rappers are familiar with. From the first verse:

"I take rappers on a field trip any day.../I know where all the looters and shooters stay/Welcome to the city we all call doomsday."

The problem I had, and continue to have, with this type of track is that while it ostensibly trying to put self-styled North American gangsters in their position, it's being done in the same way that they put each other in their position: by bragging about how much toughter their hood is than anyone else's. Granted, it's undoubtedly true that K'naan's seen harder times, but it's still the same game of one-ups-manship that he's supposed to be against.

Fortunately, these tracks never get out of control, and he's far more reflexive elsewhere, remembering the time he was nearly killed by a grenade, or the choice his mother had to make in leaving behind K'naan's cousins in order to get her son our of war-torn Somalia. "Fatima" is perhaps the best of these reflections, finding K'naan lamenting about the girl he left behind when he came to North America, crying, "Damn you country, so good at killing/ Damn you feeling for perserving." He's a gifted lyricist, no doubt, whether talking about life for a soldier in Iraq, praising his mother, or describing the "fifteen minutes" it takes for a money transfer to be processed so he can eat again.

In fact, K'naan is that rarest of breeds: a rapper whose lyrics are better than his beats. And while he attributes this to the need to send money home rather than buy Kanye tracks, it is a setback. With some notable exceptions like "TIA," first single "ABC's" and the inverted blues Mos Def collaboration "America," too often the music veers into the overproduced dance/pop/hip-hop sound that you may be familiar with if you've spent any time listening to local "world" music. Actually, when I think of it, K'naan is also strange in that he's a rapper who's better live than recorded, since he performs with a backing band, which make for a more organic sound than most of what you find here.

That said, this is still definitely worth getting. There's enough good ideas and K'naan is engaging enough that it overcomes the shortcomings, even when it's Adam Levine of Maroon 5 being completely unnecessary in the otherwise fantastic stutter-funk of "Bang Bang" or Kirk Hammett getting in the way on a redux version of "If Rap Gets Jealous." At one point K'naan brags "I made the list this year, I'm honour roll." If that's true, then let's hope his next album sees him ditching the big-name vocal collaborations from other genres (Damian Marley, and Mos Def, and Chubb Rock, who actually have personal relationships with K'naan and sound natural here, excluded) and spending the saved cash on some big-name beats. But then again, given how good his stripped-down live performances on Q were (listen here), maybe he should just pocket it and skip the money transfers.

You can listen to Troubadour on K'naan's MySpace (but you should probably read this first), and you can buy it here.

"TIA"

 OK, is this a great year for Canadian music, or what? We've already had A.C.
Newman and Malajube, we've got Joel Plaskett, the Great Lake Swimmers, Metric, the Tragically Hip, the Handsome Furs, MSTRKFT, K'naan, and more coming, and now we're definitely hearing from Swan Lake.

If you don't know who Swan Lake is, let's put it this way: you know how a lot of good bands like Wolf Parade, the New Pornographers, and Frog Eyes have that one crazy genius who completely ignores standard music sensibilities and yet still writes ridiculously great songs? Well, Swan Lake is three of those guys, from those exact bands, working together to write ridiculously great songs, only there's no A.C. Newman or Dan Boekner to reign them in.

At this point, I'm so high off of these songs that I can't even begin to describe them except in Haiku form. So here goes:

"Spanish Gold 2044" via Stereogum

Brian Wilson is broken
the jagged ocean crashes in the desert
prospectors rejoice, echo



"A Hand at Dusk" via Pitchfork

a concert hall?
Major Tom has found Stardust
it's a Day in the Life



Enemy Mine comes out March 24. More info about the disc can be found here.

I wanted to love this show. I really did. You Will Land With a Thud was one of my favourite albums of last year, and the raucous eight-piece band I heard on record seemed like they would put on an exciting, high-energy live show. And don't get me wrong, they do-- or, at least, they obviously can. But there were enough bad ideas in the night's organization to take what should have been a great show and turn it into a merely ok concert-going experience. So what follows is a list of suggestions for either the band or the venue (I'm not sure who was behind these decisions) so that future shows aren't similarly tarnished.

1. If you're playing a government town, don't do it on a weeknight.
I've never been to the East Coast, so I don't know if this applies there. But if there's one thing I've learned about Victoria in the short time I've been here, it's that the party is reserved strictly for the weekend. Other than that, the nightlife is limited to-- well, none as far as I can tell. Put it this way: when it's nigh-impossible to find a downtown restaurant that's open past seven on a Sunday night, you can be darn well sure that putting on a concert by a little-known band after ten o'clock on a Wednesday is a good way to ensure a far-less-than-capacity turn-out. When one in four of the people there is in the band, something's wrong with the scheduling.

2. If you have to play on a weeknight, start earlier. Or at least on time.
Not being much of a bar person, it is a giant pet peeve of mine when I go to see a show and have to hang out in said bar for an hour before the band I came to see starts, especially when I arrive after the advertised start-time. This goes double when the advertised start-time is ten o clock and I have to go to work the next morning. And again, this is a government town, and you're playing in the government district-- odds are I'm not alone with the early morning wake-up call.

3. If you start after the advertised start-time, the opening act should not play a full set.
Especially when the opening act is actually three people from the headliners.

4. If the opening act plays a full set, then you should start almost immediately after they do, and not take a half hour break prior to taking the stage.
Especially when the opening act is actually three people from the headliners, meaning there's no need to switch set-ups. Everything was already on stage! Why didn't you tune your instruments before the opening act went on? Why did you wait half an hour after they finished before even going up there to see if they worked?

5. If you have made all of the above errors, for god's sake when you finally take the stage, put the crowd into a great mood, have a full dance-floor (a real feat when doing that involves having literally 95% of the audience out there, do not take a "short break" twenty minutes in.

This is where it really became clear someone involved was not thinking straight. Because despite all of the above setbacks, they could have been erased from my memory if the band had just played their set right through. Let me reiterate: the Tom Fun Orchestra put on a great show. Eight band members (including an accordionist, trumpeter, and violinist) crammed onto a tiny stage, all but the drummer right up front, giving a full-on assault of dirty Celtic rock led by a guttural, Tom Waits-ish front-man that has almost the entire audience dancing is something you are unlikely to experience anywhere else. I was loving it as they sped through what was shaping up to be their entire recorded output, building to momentum which each new song, when suddenly it's announced that the band will be taking a short break. What?

Again, let me state the facts: it's a Wednesday, it's a government town, and now it's after midnight. It's also freezing (inexplicably, the doors were left open, possibly to allow the smoke machine to keep doing its thing, but who really likes smoke machines anyways?) and we had to pay a cover to get into a a bar that is almost empty. This is not Saturday night at the city's hottest bar. People are not just hanging and-- wow!-- they get treated to a great live show.

No, people have very obviously changed their nightly routine and handed over cash to come watch the band. So you don't pull the "take a break so they buy more drinks" after the band plays for less than hour, especially when it's now past midnight, and especially when the audience is already dwindling despite an undeniably exciting performance. The "short" break is the perfect time to leave, and leave they did-- at least a quarter and probably closer to half. This pared down those who watched the rest of the set to just over two dozen. I was tempted to leave myself, but only stayed because I was familiar with the group's work and really wanted to hear some of my favourite songs, which I was sure would be great. And I was right-- when "Last of the Curious Thieves" with its beautiful violin line made way for the driving "Rum and Tequila," it becomes clear why this group has won and been nominated for such high-profile awards as entertainer of the year on their home turf.

But for anyone who just thought they might check the band out and had someplace to be the next day, a break is a great time to take off. And, yeah, they likely left thinking "they seemed like fun," but having missed about half of the band's best songs, the incentive to look into them further or pick up a CD was likely lost. And as to the bar, those who left weren't buying more drinks.

So here's my verdict: the Tom Fun Orchestra are worth seeing, but not so worth it that if you're only sort of interested in them it's worth giving up a good night's sleep to do so. Singer Ian MacDougall was joking when he said "If you haven't figured it out... we're famous. Really famous," and I laughed at the time. But looking at the way the way the show was set up, I can't help but wonder whether someone involved actually believed that they had such high-profile entertainers they could get a big late night/early morning audience coming out on a weeknight to see them, and get them to fill up on drinks besides. Again, I don't know if the band or the venue or some combination are to blame, so I don't want to dissuade you from seeing the band in the future-- it was an enjoyable show despite these set-backs, and that is a testament to their entertainment value. They are a talented group of performers, and if you like their recorded output, you will like them in person. As for me, I still like the band, but am disappointed that a poor set-up prevented me from loving them, and while the small minority of people who stuck the whole thing out were clearly happy, in the end the band was left preaching to the choir while the unconverted skipped out early.

The Tom Fun Orchestra is currently on a cross-Canada tour. For more dates, see tomfun.ca or the band's myspace.

Band Name: The Racoons
From: Victoria, British Columbia
Members:
Matty Lyall- Vocals, Guitar
Jeff Mitchelmore- Drums
Murray Mckenzie- Synthesizer, Guitar
Alex Bodman- Bass
Other Discs: None, although they do used to have three other songs on their MySpace and are working on a full-length.
Sounds Like: Synth-driven garage rock delivered with precision. Equally suited for the dance floor and the mosh pit.
Is that how you spell "raccoon"? No.
Does this affect the music? No, I don't think so.


It would be easy to pigeonhole the Racoons as an 80s-nostalgia group. After all, their name recalls animated Canadian cult classic the Raccoons , (although it's just as likely a reference to Victoria's animal mascot), their album cover/t-shirt is clearly a throwback to the graphic tees of twenty-odd years ago, and their music is liberal with the synthesizers, with an open nod to the Cars and the Cure. But like any good throwback (think TV on the Radio or Bloc Party), the Racoons take the dark undercurrents of the 80s pop-dance movement and apply it to the modern world. In many ways, this is appropriate given the similar themes running through the two times-- economic turmoil, technology recreating our relationships into an increasingly fractured social landscape, and a nagging sense of impending doom.

 The sense of consistency in their music could well be due to the fact that, according to an interview with Briding the Atlantic, the band gives itself very clear limits as to what sort of sound they're going to project. Album opener "Rise and Fall" establishes the musical mood immediately with a driving synthesizer line being joined by chiming, clean high notes, minimalist bass, and understated, nearly-machine-like percussion. The lyrics may or may not acknowledge the sense of history repeating itself and ongoing doom that I alluded to earlier with it's message of "It's all a rise and fall" and references to "dead waste putting holes in the ozone."

Vocalist Matt Lydall has the perfect voice for delivering this sort of message, projecting the cold intonations of Robert Smith of the Cure one moment and the authoratative urgency of the Kaiser Chiefs' Ricky Wilson the next, with just the right amount of Spencer Krug and Dan Boekner (Wolf Parade) thrown in there to make it sound more unhinged than either of those other two bands ever manage.

As Lydell says, the comparisons to Wolf Parade are "inevitable", and warranted, in track two "No, It Meant Nothing." Horns complement this song well as it shifts from an almost light-hearted opening riff to  marching-band style percussion to swing, though perhaps a doom-laden Said the Whale might be a more apt descriptor. As in the live show, this is a highlight among the EPs eight songs, as are "Be My Television" with its dancefloor-ready drums, uplifting trombones, and understated chorus, "Room to Operate," which sounds like a love song played through a Nintendo Entertainment System before turning into an all-out breakdown, and "Tangiers" which could well be the next Kaiser Chiefs single if they were still putting out stuff as consistent as their first album.

Of course, after all of those we're only left with three tracks, each of which are quality excursions in themselves. "Over Our Shoulders" is radio-ready despite showcasing Lyall at his yelp-iest, and the introspective untitled track at the end is a nice, quiet way to end things off. But before we get there, we're given "Islomania," a slow-building track which demonstrates the quality arrangements this group is capable of. According to Lyall, the title is a reference to the fact that "Victoria is a funny city in that sense though, because no one really ever gives it credit for Frog Eyes, Immaculate Machine, Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, etc.... there's a rule that as soon as you start selling out you've gotta move to Montreal and erase your Island alter-ego... it's this basically irrelevant little island that we all have this funny little love-hate relationship with. We want to be left alone, but we're also really scared that we're missing out."

Based on the strength of this EP, and with a fair amount of buzz being generated, I think it's safe to say that the Racoons will be next on that list of Island bands to jump onto the national scene. Whether or not they'll relocate to Montreal remains to be seen.

Rise and Fall


No, It Meant Nothing


Be My Television


Sites: myspace, facebook, radio3, livevictoria profile

As promised, here is my review of the excellent Mother Mother show at Sugar Nightclub this past Saturday night.

First off, let me give you my impressions of Sugar. Having been to enough concerts with drunken/hopped up idiots, I appreciate their high level of security-- everyone was scrutinized, and any possible problem-causing material taken away. However, nothing can protect you from the decor.

I'm all for dives, but generally dives involve concrete or wood. Not carpet. Sugar is completely unique to my experiences for being a bar with carpet. From the 80s, too, by the look of it.

Having been to so many shows recently that were in a theatre setting, it was somewhat disorienting to find myself in a bar, without assigned, or, well, almost any seating, save a few chairs, a couple of booths, and a questionable looking couch. But after grabbing a couple of drinks, we soon carved  out a little corner for ourselves to listen to the music.                                        


The first act was one Laura Smith, who I know nothing about. Her music seemed to be in the vein

of the indie-chanteuse that's so popular nowadays and that you can find in almost any town. She performed ably and the crowd was appreciative, although she definitely seemed better suited to a coffee shop than a dance floor and pool table venue.

 






Next up were the Racoons [sic], whom I'm gathering are turning into something of hometown heroes around here. I'd listened to a couple of their songs prior to the show and found myself shrugging, but that changed once I saw them going live. I'm rarely converted to a completely unknown band solely on their live performance, but in this case I was. They occupy a sonic density somewhere between Bloc Party, Tokyo Police Club, and Wolf Parade, with lead singer Matthew Lyal recalling some combination of the latter's Spencer Krug and the Kaiser Chief's Ricky Wilson. I'm not going to talk too much about them here since I grabbed a CD and plan on doing a full review, but suffice it to say they're likely going places.




The Racoons hyped the crowd up sufficiently for Mother Mother to take the stage for a room of
happy people. With their band's name hanging behind them they opened with a high-energy rendition of "Hayloft" from their newest release, O My Heart. New singer/keyboardist Jasmin Parker fit in seamlessly, with her vocals melding in perfect sync with the brother-sister combo of Ryan and Molly Guldemond. Despite the darker post-punk tendencies of the music, these two clearly come from a country/folk background based on their vocal harmonies and Ryan's guitar-picking style and tendency to keep said guitar above his waist, not to mention his Chris Isaak-style coifs. While the enthusiasm of the female singers was infectious, it is Ryan who occupies centre stage, and for good reason. He is an entertainer, playling like a man possessed-- at times, he acted as if his finger-picking hand was getting away from him and there was nothing he could do to control the results.

What would have been an enjoyable show became a great one when drummer Ali Sidait and bassist Jeremy Page started the instantly-recognizable rhythmic pulse of "Body of Years." They wisely played up the introduction, slowly building the parts with Ryan semi-improvising the opening riff. This is the song that very-rightly won the CBC Radio 3 Bucky Award for "Best Vocals" and my fear going in was that the band wouldn't be able to replicate it's sonic range in a live setting. Well, they can and they did, to great effect. After the jam session on the end of the song, which works far better live than on record, they wisely kicked immediately into the next song so as not to lose any momentum. Other bands take note: this is the mark of a professional-- switching gear is cool once in a while, but if you want to keep the crowd going, you use the gear you're holding while the audience is hyped.

While this one-two punch was easily the pinnacle of the night, the denouement didn't lack for excitement. While Mother Mother's two existing records, Touch Up and O My Heart, each have unique sonic qualities, they are similar enough that songs from each record can be blended together without coming off schizophrenic. They also threw in a new song, the name of which I didn't catch, into the mix, and this one seemed to be delving further into the 60s-girl-group harmonies the band has flirted with on occasion. Other highlights included "O My Heart," the haunting "Ghosting" (which garnered a huge reaction from the crowd with it's somehow-snarky line "You don't need no treats, you don't need no tricks, and you don't need me," and the encore-opener "Dirty Town," which, with its shifting styles and time signatures, really let the band show what sets them apart from anyone else.

This was Mother Mother's last date before heading to the United States to open a series of shows for the Sam Roberts Band. It's really too bad that they'll have to condense their show into an opening act, because these guys deserve to be headliners worldwide, and if they perform as well as they did last week for the rest of their tour, they soon will be.

Mother Mother: official site, Myspace, tour dates
The Racoons: myspace
Laura Smith: myspace