my heart it longs for something new

I'm taking a course that requires me to watch Before Sunset, the second in that talk-y, romantic Richard Linklater/Ethan Hawke/Julie Delpy trilogy.

So I dutifully watched it, then watched Before Midnight, because I hadn't seen it yet. Then I watched a few Youtube scenes from Before Sunrise, the first film, and that's when I re-watched this scene, where Celine find's a Kath Bloom album in a Vienna record store, and she and Jesse cozy into a listening booth and listen to this amazing song.



Since then I've learned basically all that the Internet holds about Kath Bloom: a total forgotten gem who had a fairly short career in the early eighties, after which she mostly focused on child-raising, was re-discovered by Linklater and featured in the film in the mid-nineties, she released a new recording in 1999 and has been recording and touring periodically ever since. These songs are just so simple and lovely.

I don't know what is happening in this video, or why, really, but this SONG. So pared down, so achy.



In 2009, there was a tribute to her songs made called Loving Takes This Course (that title.) and it includes this cover by Scout Niblett, which is on repeat forever.



Kath Bloom, everyone. Kath Bloom.

you can feel the sun

It must be light.

I feel energized and confident and am happily biting off just a bit more than I can chew. Or more accurately, trying to scrawl out a few more words than I really have time for.

Baby boy and I are alone this week while D. ventures far and wide across this country's west, and in spite of chaos and water-play and banana bread baking and the croup and subsequent quarantine, I am managing to meet my deadlines and reply to emails and generally feel like I'm contributing.

So I think it must be that brighter, longer, stronger sunlight coming through. It's working wonders.


Edited to add: okay, it's either the sun, or the Pixies. We are still young. THERE ARE NEW PIXIES SONGS TO LOVE.

capturing december 15: favourite holiday song

My favourite holiday song is one sung by my favourite musician.

the rambling quest

As someone who has been know to fly north for the summer, may I highly recommend that we all take a minute to listen to Michael Hurley's Wildegeeses from Ida Con Snock.

It's only in the wildness can you name her

It's only in the wildness can you tame her

how bright the stars, how dark the night

Some time ago, I was sitting on a picnic blanket on the grass surrounded by many of the people I love most in the world, and Garnet Rogers was playing this song, and it was about as perfect a moment as I've ever had and I wept and smiled and there are pictures to prove it.

Some time later, I was in a hospital bed in a very small old town, and my parents called and said they were going out to see Garnet Rogers. I'd lost my voice, but I whispered "You should you ask him to play 'Night Drive'."

I spent that lonely night looking out the window at a big hill where the sky played out its many colours and slipped into darkness and dim stars shone feebly in the northern summer light, and I hadn't seen the sun go down for months and I was on morphine and I heard guitar loops all night long.

They did ask him to play the song, and he "seemed quite touched," and he played it for me.

to warm our hands and find our way

This all seems like it was a long time ago, when it really was nothing of the sort.
It was the end of last year and the beginning of this one. But we've come a long way this year.

A late night, a leafy salad, a cup of something homegrown and special, and a furry cat hiding in the corners of a very sweet friend's home.
Every time I hear her sing the words "a place to start out from," I think of this night.

It's getting dark very early and the wind is blowing strong and the snow is sneaking in the cracks. In the cold days of an arctic autumn (which seem quite a bit like winter to a southern soul), warm memories of dear ones and delicious meals do the trick like nothing else.

Can't wait to see you.

*I also think of my dear friend Jodi who took all of these gorgeous photos.

today in songs that sound exactly the same

1993

2007

This is way closer than that whole Men at Work/Kookaburra drama. 

where the earth shows its bones

There's God in the trees, I'm weak in the knees
And the sky is a painful blue
I'd like to look around, but honey, all I see is you.



This is where I come from.
This is how I know what love is.
Happy anniversary Mom & Dad.
(lyrics from Stan Rogers, "45 Years")

sugar and spice and everything nice

A few years ago for Christmas, my dad handed me a wrapped-up present with a tiny version of this poster attached as a gift-tag. It was the first time I'd seen it.
It's pretty much the perfect picture. Joan, my life-long hero. Her gorgeous sisters. String instruments. A regal sofa. Draft dodging.

Those hats.
Floppy brim felt hats are the physical manifestation of "young and in love."

This summer I finally found that hat. So obviously I took my little sister by the arm, sat on a grassy hill and listened to folk music.

(Joanie, you're welcome to join us next year)

For more Joanie, she did a really wonderful performance at Newport's 50th this year. Listen to the NPR recording here. Especially that one part where she mocks Dylan. Revenge eaten cold. 

And finally this, because we must.

this kind of summer time.

hope you're weekend is spent running around an island with some nice bands and all your friends. see you on the boat!

and it's like, and it's like um. and it's um like, like um.

Charles Spearin, a dude from Do Make Say Think and Broken Social Scene, invited some friends and neighbours over and did some interviews with them vaguely centred around happiness. Then he pulled out his Rolodex of the Super Talented and had his peeps put the interviews to music, following the beautiful cadences and intonations of his friends and neighbours. The CBC and I are now transfixed with the result.
Please buy the album here.
And check out the myspace.
I personally have a penchant for Vittoria (from who I stole title of this post).
The content is obviously uplifting, but this project is really interesting because of the way that it distinguishes the beautiful differences in each individual's voice, and the way that all of the tracks come together in a way that is reminiscent of a big family gathering or a church potluck. We have little babes and school-age children and young and old ladies and they're all present in the room taking turns talking about what happiness means while the musicians in the corner play along with the notes in their voices. So like the best potluck ever, where you get to fill up on white bean cassoulet* and genuine contentedness.

Pictured above is my own happiness project.

*To my knowledge, the Happiness Project does not actually ship along with a white bean cassoulet.

top of 2008

Some things that made 2008 for me. Maybe you too? 

• the new Frank Gehry-designed Art Gallery of Ontario. Hometown architect makes good: that wood spiral Baroque Stair alone is enough, but the entire building reminds me of the way the behemoth redwoods appear to physically inhale and exhale on the West Coast. Not to mention Rubens' Massacre of the Innocents or anything else that actually lives inside. 

• MGMT's Oracular Spectacular. "Time to Pretend" was practically inescapable this year, but I recommend listening to "Kids" at high volume at sunset in a sweaty apartment in mid-August. Make pad thai afterwards, and always, always share your beer. 

• The National's "Fake Empire" playing at Obama's victory rally in Chicago. As the world waited for the man himself to appear, news cameras circled the crowd finding tear-jerker shots of Jesse Jackson, Oprah and random white people, this Brooklyn band's 2007 anthem played with a promo video called "Signs of Hope". Perhaps Obama's shout-out to the PBR-drinkers across America who gave him the election? Or maybe America just elected a president who likes good music (he is basically the first presidential candidate to use a Springsteen song when it was actually cool to do so) and some insight into the magic lyrics can carry. "Tiptoe through our shiny city/ with our diamond slippers on/ Do our gay ballet on ice/ bluebirds on our shoulders/ We're half awake in a fake empire." Either way, hearing it on CNN was das unheimliche or whatever. Will.i.am's death rattle was heard by no one. 
  

• Martha Wainwright's I Know You're Married, But I've Got Feelings Too. This album is a heart-stopper and a head-turner. You know this album is bad for you, but you have to be near it because it makes you feel so alive. 

• Maybe it's just me--in fact, I'm quite sure it's just me, but nothing says "Great in '08" like that sexy sumo wrestler ad for the Subaru Forester, with Electric Six's "Danger High Voltage" in the background. 

our lady of seven sorrows

I read a book recently in which a character said that love is the greatest of the seven sorrows. So great, in fact, that he had forgotten the other six.

That reminded me of this.

When I was in grade nine I had two wishes.
One was to marry Daniel Johns, who was the lead singer of Silverchair, and with whom I planned to have two children, one named Neon and one named Ballroom.

The other was to be Catholic.
My friend Melissa and I often had sleepovers at her grandmother's house in Peterborough, where we would camp out in the basement and watch the videos for "Anthem for the Year 2000" and Will Smith's "Miami." One weekend while we were there, I got blue streaks dyed into my hair.



Another time, Melissa's grandmother gave me a medal of St. Christopher, the patron saint of travellers, to wear around my neck. My paternal grandfather has been travelling all his life, but he didn't like it -- papism makes him nervous. In 1969, St. Christopher started making the pope nervous. I lost the pendant sometime in 1999.

a case of who?/i bet you think this post is about you/will you still read me tomorrow

This month's Vanity Fair has a story about three Rebel Angels--Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell and Carole King. While there's a lot of gratingly intense celebration of the fact that the three are women (!) writing songs (!) (including the use of the word 'Everywoman') that sort of invalidates a lot of the really great art they made, it does a good bio of Joni Mitchell (more so, at least, than the other two women), complete with descriptions of high cheek bones and a "Canadian Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz."

And of course this description of famous alum of the Seven Sisters schools made my mouth water: "...in stovepipe pants and ponchos, raising fists at political rallies, debating literary lions now viewed as troglodytes, producing theoretical tracts and carnal novels."

Check it (if only for the pretty pictures of hippy kids with guitars). Pretty sure the whole thing's online.

PS. In the article, Weller describes King as "getting younger as she got older (as one could do only back then)."

I've got a handwritten letter from my baby sister pinned to my bulletin board (one of those "if the house was on fire, and you could only save one thing," kind of possessions [sorry 'bout the drumkit, CS]) and a perpetual love for chasing the wind that pray that era's not over.


Johnny & Joni do "Girl from the North Country"
Joni - A Case of You

baby do you know what i mean

Listening to a ton of Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris music right now, and finding it's the soundtrack to a rich life.

One of my favourite blogs, This Recording, has this post about the glory of Gram (including soft, earnest interviews with the martyr himself) which is definitely worth checking out.

Gram on Emmylou:
"She sang like a bird, man, and that was it... She can sing anything that you're doing in perfect harmony as long as you look at her. If you raise your eyebrows when you're going up on a note, she goes right up with you. She's beautiful."

Emmylou's farewell song to Gram, Boulder to Birmingham always stops my heart a little bit.
So far, this blog is the only place I can find it online, so go there, and click play.

glorious

I have a feeling that the past year marks a turning point after years of complaining about Kingston's music scene (generally summed up as a cyclical issue: lack of venues, and therefore an absence of local bands). Though finding venues is still difficult, a few musicians have broken through the local ennui and are forming bands. Really good bands. (See The Gertrudes, listen to Nich Worby's album when it comes out later this spring, go to Apple Crisp).

Magic Jordan played their first show last May, opening for Woodhands. The night was indeed magic: the gallery was hot, crowded and sweaty, and between sets, the crowd piled out into the street, lured back inside after show promoter Greg Tilson handed out sparklers. The band was electric--members were trading places, cheering their own band name and barely controlling their own energy. In the four or five times I've seen them since, the act has become tighter but the energy is still there. The band has a songwriting chemistry that brings focus through fantastic tunes that lyrically cycle and rhythmically wander. Bass player and singer Paul Saulnier's cover of Gary Numan's iconic electropop tune "M.E." (sampled on that Basement Jaxx "Where's Your Head At?" track) is not to be missed, and their first song, "Magic Jordan Part 1," just keeps getting better.

Who:
Jenni O'Neill-keys, vox
Paul Saulnier-bass, vox
Benjamin Nelson-drums, vox
Jeff Barbeau-synth

www.myspace.com/magicjordan3223

Add them up, already!

PS. All of their gig posters are wonderful. Paul and Ben do them, and Paul and Ben are wonderful.

late night Can-Con and other Southern Ontario Gothic dreams

Last night I fell asleep with the TV on (the TV being an adorable, 4-inch little black and white number that requires a less-adorable amount of effort to receive a signal).
On a good day, I get two channels. Last night it was just me and the CBC.
Sometime between three and four a.m., I woke up with a start. A fuzzy orchestral version of "Oh Canada" was blaring, sounding rough and embarrassingly grandiose through the tiny speakers and a bit of static. It took me a minute to figure out its origin; the bathroom was my first thought.
The camera was wildly swooping over boldy "Canadian" scenes. I think I saw a moose, but definitely water. Maybe a Group of Seven/Georgian Bay tree? I leaned over and turned it off.
This morning, I complained to a friend. "What's with the CBC?"
I was reassured in the only way Canadians know how. You're not the only one, and someone's already written about it. Better yet, you've probably heard it on the CBC (that glorious factory: source of our greatest disdain, our greatest consolation).

See the chorus of Joel Plaskett's "True Patriot Love."

We all go out
Then we all come home
But I fall asleep with the TV on
At 3 AM they play "O Canada"
True patriot love and lalalalala




When I woke this morning, I swore there was a scene from Expo (you know the one) or maybe the Montreal Olympics. There's not. (See Mama Sheff's comment below). I'm just crazy.

spinning and also spiraling

I'm still coming down from a weekend in the hills. The Shelter Valley Folk Festival was this end-of-summer weekend, and it was great. I probably saw less music this year than ever before, between volunteering and a mid-festival break for a friend's wedding, but anything that includes good food, tie-dyed everything, tent mornings, moonsongs, campfires and small children has got to be good. And on top of all that, sunshine!

Also, something that commands this kind of commitment is obviously made of love:

I'm a believer.

P.S. Find of the weekend? James Hill. He plays the ukulele! (And was the most gracious vegetarian in the face of a near-meat experience.)

run to catch up.

The past few weeks have been a blur of rapid typing and making up questions on the spot, but they've also been full of sweet summer times and some really good tunes to sip ice water to.

Immaculate Machine, Gus' Pub, Halifax, NS (pronounced enn-ess).

This show was heaps of fun. Heaps.

It was opened by two of Halifax's finest: Laura Peek of Laura Peek and the Winning Hearts and Journalists, Wolf (formerly known as Stephen Cooke and the Respected Halifax Journalists, Wolf - please someone correct me if I'm wrong). Laura did her cute-girl-singer-with-a-keyboard thing, and it was about as adorable as expected. Journalists, Wolf did their crazy-9-piece-drunken-shirtless-screamy-rock-out- with-2-harmonica-players -and-a-guitar-played-with-broom-handle thing and that was about as hilarious as expected. Any show that includes the words "That last song was about Oprah Winfrey and this song is for Keanu Reeves," is where it's at.


Laura Peek being adorable.

Immaculate Machine have been getting press since keyboard/vocalist Kathryn Calder joined her Uncle Carl's little project, but they have been working hard & making good music for five years. Their music is like the funnest road trip you've ever been on, like Rainbow Brite, like standing on big rocks in a yellow dress. They were alive and connected on stage, and they really love playing their music.

Immaculate Machine - Dear Confessor
In the middle of two 20 hour drives, this song was perfect: "maps won't show us where we're going, all they are is just the boring facts..."

Immaculate Machine - Northeastern Wind
This one's sort of the song that's not like the others on the Fables album, which makes it extra-special beautiful.

get folked up, stay folked up.

kyle, me, katesheff, miss bess, SVFF 2006 - "it rained at woodstock!"

Here's the thing about the Shelter Valley Folk Festival: it's the perfect end to every summer.

On the ideal Labour Day weekend, the sun is shining, but there is a nice breeze. At night, the sky turns purple and the view from the hill is of the lake and the sun and some of Canada's best. Last year, every single rained-out, wet socks, water-pooling-in-the-tent, "where are our all our towels?", hurricaned moment of last year's was great.

Three reasons to go to the Festival:

1. Artistic director Aengus Finnan has this gift for picking artists who are always on the edge of something. If you see a performer at SVFF, chances are they'll win an award from the Canadian Folk Music Association in December or show up on the cover of Penguin Eggs.

2. Even if you don't think folk music is your thing, there will be something at the festival that is your thing, whether it's a singer-songwriter or the wellness tents or the children's parade or the really good Carribbean food.

3. Performers really really love SVFF. If they love it, you'll love it.

Three reasons to volunteer at the Festival:

1. The food. Among musicians I've talked to, Shelter Valley is known for having the best hospitality area among summer festivals in Canada. Who woulda thought that putting out some corn chowder on a cold Sunday morning would get such rave reviews?

2. Camping on the top of the hill. See above for why this is good.

3. The late-night bonfires. This is sort of a see-for-yourself kinda thing.


Also, I'm pretty sure Shelter Valley has the cutest kids in the world.

Get on it.
2007's line-up
Volunteer application