Tons of great photos as well as live recordings of the performances.

Check it out below!

Photos taken by Trinh Theresa Do and Max Mertens
Audio recorded and mixed by Trinh Theresa Do

And if you’re not a fan of audio atop images, then here’s a silent slideshow for your needs.

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Featured image by Max Mertens

UP: How did you get your knee injury?

ASH: I was playing volleyball on Monday and there was some contact at the net and I went down with a twist and I heard a pop and a crunch, ’cause I’ve torn ligaments in both knees already in various performance capacities … so I’m looking at potential surgery. And the amazing coincidence is that the last time we played Phoenix, I tore my ACL in my right knee playing at MTV Live, jumping off a monitor. So I’ve got a bit of a history with knee injuries and this place. But I feel great and the show is going to be awesome.

UP: You guys haven’t really played around Toronto in a bit, how does it feel to be playing Canadian Music Week?

JAY: Pretty amazing man. There are 800 bands this year and some of our good friends are playing at it. Essentially Canadian Music Week is a showcase … and we’ve never played CMW. But yeah, It’s cool to see the buzz online and with our Edge support, people are so excited because it’s kind of like we are breaking new ground by playing some new material. And just starting to get back into the cycle again, we have our cross-Canadian tour in May and it’s the first show of the year as well.

ASH: It’s actually our first time playing our new songs too. They’re brand new!

UP: How do you guys prepare for your live shows before going on stage? Do you have any rituals or anything?

ASH: I like to hum. I had a vocal instructor that told me to just [tilts his head back and begins to hum]. So I like to hum whatever Paul Anka song I was listening to that day.

JAY: I usually listen to really aggressive music and I usually cruise around and spy on the crowd to see what the energy is going to be like and the vibe of the people … which is always a good measure to me. And just pace [laughs].

UP: Do you guys get nervous before you go on stage?

JAY: No, not any more. But in the beginning when we got on the radio I kind of got the jitters, only because it was just like, you go from playing The Cameron House on Queen Street West, and The Hideout, to like basically The Sound Academy, and public scrutiny and radio and industry folk and two guys. You know, an unconventional duo, as opposed to a conventional rock n roll band.

UP: You guys are really well known for your crazy and energetic live performances. I was just wondering how you maintain that for an entire show.

JAY: I don’t know. At first it used to be Ash playing and singing and me cueing tracks and just DJing. Then it just kind of …

ASH: I think we harnessed our inner jocks [laughs]. Well ‘cause we were both very athletic growing up. And we were up at 5 a.m. to go to practice kind of guys. And I think that we just translate that athletic energy into a performance. So we are both very inspired by athletics in all capacities.

UP: What kind of stuff did you guys do?

ASH: I played football and hockey. And Jay was an incredible point guard.

JAY: It’s like he was there.

ASH: We went to rival high schools but we didn’t know each other. And we didn’t play the same sports so we didn’t cross paths.

JAY: So random [laughs].

UP: So watching your live shows, you and the audience really connect. Just wondering how you keep them excited and pumped up.

JAY: It used to be just go and deliver the songs. But because we are not an actual band it’s like my role as hype man is to compensate for the fact that I’m not holding a bass guitar, playing drums. So it’s like bringing the songs up more so he can focus on playing and singing.

ASH: If you watch a dictator in a doctoral country command an audience, it shows you that in most capacities, humans want to be led. And want to be inspired, and want to be coached, and want something to kind of answer to. You know what I mean? We do. As much as you can be open minded and divergently thinking, and want freedom, there is a comfort, whether it’s through religion or your dictator, or music group or whatever, we like to think we do that in a sunny capacity. In like a jump out there and help your grandma fix her wheelchair kind of way.

UP: Back in 2008 you guys headlined The Edge’s next big thing concert series. Now in 2011 you guys here at The Phoenix headlining Canadian Music Week. What does that kind of success mean to you guys?

ASH: It’s means that I don’t have to get up and put on my roofing clothes anymore [laughs].

JAY: I just find it interesting for us because we had to play catch up ’cause we just slipped on the radio based on good will hand shakes and grass roots shows.

ASH: And karma.

JAY: And promo and good songs. Like as Zeke at The Sound Academy put it, we started at The Sound Academy and it was completely backwards. There was no escalation.

ASH: It was like going to get your assess and pilot’s license and like, you’re going to Mars! [laughs]. Ah, I’ve never been in a plane, never mind the space shuttle that was just retired.

UP: After the release of your EP, Welding the C Drive, you both parted ways. Then you get a phone call from a friend saying that The Edge was playing your song heavily. How did it feel to get that phone call?

ASH: It was kind of like, happy birthday. Like a surprise party. You pop open the door and there is streamers and balloons. Except you’re in your friend’s dorm room in Texas, in a generic room. And there’s no streamers and balloons. But it felt like there was streamers and balloons everywhere. It was like, I could just feel those many many, hundreds of dozens of mornings of playing shows and not sleeping and going right to work and just doing whatever I had to do/whatever we had to do. And it kind of all in the moment, just kind of, like the gold star being put on my report card of life.

JAY: Yeah, it was just crazy man. Just the initial shock wave. Because it happened so organically, which is so unheard of nowadays. And just being told that, not only were they interested in blogging about, but they were going to add Hollowpoint, which they thought was the best single, into rotation. And then it went heavy a month later and we still hadn’t even played a show to support it, let alone make a music video for it. It’s very strange, a great feeling though.

UP: Since then you guys have toured all over Canada, parts of the States and even the world. Tell me about the craziest thing you’ve seen happen on the road.

JAY: I think one of the crappiest things, I guess you could call it crazy, was when we were on the road with illScarlett and we were in Winnipeg. And while they were on stage, their van got broken into. And that sucked. It was really bad. It was minus 45 outside.

ASH: And one guy lost everything. It wasn’t like everybody lost a little bit of stuff, one guy lost everything. All he had was the clothes on his back, and it was so cold. We also played this one show where Jay was doing a handstand—the whole table collapsed.

JAY: [laughs] In Ottawa!

ASH: And the music didn’t stop. He looked like the Wicked Witch of the West, like half his body was covered. And I’m still playing and was like, ‘Should I keep playing?’

JAY: And it was Anti-Venom too, which is a high energy song.

ASH: And all the equipment slide and didn’t miss a beat. And somehow our tech ran out and pulled Jay out. And I think there might have been a defibrillator involved [laughs]. Zapped him back to life and

JAY: That, dude, I think that might be the craziest moment. ‘Cause it was the first time we ever had a malfunction like that.

ASH: And this one time, he had a seizure on the way to Newfoundland, on our way to the East Coast on the plane. And uh, he went right to the hospital and I did all the sound check. And I was like, ‘Is he alive?’ No calls. They’re like, the back up plan is you play acoustic.

JAY: [laughs hysterically]

ASH: So I’m on stage, ready to play acoustic. And he comes running in and he’s like, ‘Hey dude!’

JAY: I’ve still got the hospital bracelet on.

ASH: ‘Doctor says I’m fine!’ It was funny.

UP: You guys have also had a chat with Gene Simmons. How would you describe that?

JAY: It was interesting because Bookie had asked us to play his anniversary for his New Music night. And it was us, Mobile and Waking Eyes – two stellar Canadian bands, rest in peace Waking Eyes. And then Bookie told us Gene Simmons was in the house. And I saw him in the crowd when we were playing. But then our publicist said that Gene wants to talk to you guys. And me and Ash were just so beat. We were sitting down on the bench, sweating it up, and he sits down between us. He’s wearing like $800 diamond incrusted boots and he immediately went on the offensive to Ash. And I just kind of his buffer for shitty jokes. I mean, he was trying to give us advice.

ASH: There was just like, cameras, lights, microphones, reporters. Everyone from upstairs came downstairs in a room like this size (very small). There was like a hundred people rammed around us. And we’re just sitting in these bright lights, talking about degrading women with Gene Simmons. But more being on the defensive, of like, ‘No, we respect our moms.’ [laughs]

UP: But in the fall, you guys played the Smirnoff Nightlife Exchange project event. And you represent Canada for India. Just wondering how did it feel for you to represent Canada on such a large platform?

ASH: Well, one of my dreams in life was to be in the Olympics. I always wanted to represent Canada in some capacity or another. So in that regard, I did get to represent Canada in that capacity, so I can check that one off the list. We really wanted to play at the Olympics to tell you the truth. That was like getting dumped by your … like dating your favourite aunt. But you still have to see her at events, and she is married to your uncle.

JAY: It was amazing because they chose, Smirnoff has been working with us since the summer of 09, and they took us to New York, they took us to Calgary, and to Montreal and Toronto. And they sent us to India. And it’s amazing because we’re still kind of like the little band that could. And they recognize that and they also feel that we’ve been representative of like, a cross section of society that you can relate to. And then what we’re doing is night life oriented. We’ve done very well in the last three years, and they see that. And to be asked by a company that size, out of all the others in Canada that could have represented the country, and then to go to India to represent, it was an honour. Food was great.

UP: What do you think it is about your music that really draws people in? Why do they like your music?

ASH: I think that there is something harmonic going on at the subconscious level. That is just beyond logic and beyond rational thought, that we just couldn’t really explain. And Jay’s haircut [laughs]. No, true story. There’s something going on. There’s something going on in the room, there’s something going on in the listening experience. And we are just having as much fun as we can, before all the glaciers recede and we have so much fresh water to drink.

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Read our review of USS’s CMW performance.

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Featured image by Jonathan Hutchinson

Paris' Medi

The Phoenix Concert Theatre was one of the venues which hosted Canadian Music Festival, part of the annual Canadian Music Week (March 9-13). There on Thursday, March 10, the night opened with Montreal’s Misteur Valaire and France’s Medi.

Both opening acts played very well and captivated the all-ages crowd with sing-a-long choruses and fun groovy beats.

But the main event of the night was what got the crowd rowdy and wild—Toronto’s musical duo, Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker (USS).

As soon as Medi finished their set, a gigantic banner at the back of the stage revealed the letters “USS.” From that moment on, the crowd chanted on and

Montreal's Misteur Valaire

off for main act. People were throwing their fists in the air and staring at the dim-lit stage in anticipation of the duo’s appearance.

Occasionally, one of the USS guys would poke their head out from behind the banner to check things out, causing everyone to go crazy with cheers. Soon after, the stage went completely black—it was time for the main attraction.

A haunting version of Fur Elise emitted from the speakers and the cheers got even louder. And when Ash Boo-Schultz (vocalist and guitarist), and Jason Parsons AKA Human Kebab (turntablist/hype man) appeared, the crowd pushed to the front of the stage and they became absolutely deafening.

Ash began the set with his guitar and a shimmering riff. Human Kebab then screamed “Toronto!”, dropped the beat for the song and things kicked off. The crowd was fist pumping and jumping up and down to the beat so strongly, it felt as if the hardwood floor was actually going to collapse.

Ash Boo-Schultz

And just as soon as the opening number was finished, they jumped right into their second song of the night, “Neurochemical Warfare Gas Masquerade.” Not only did the crowd get more rowdy, but so did Ash and Kebab. Kebab ran around the stage, doing flips and twisting like nobody’s business.

And then out of nowhere, Kebab dove into the crowd at full speed. This happened twice in the same song, and the crowd loved it just as much as he did. Ash was also jamming and throwing himself and his guitar around the stage in classic rock ‘n’ roll fashion (he was taking it a little easy because of a knee injury—read the full interview to find out more).

Kebab’s crowd surfing encouraged randoms in the crowd to follow suit–this went on all night. Occasionally people would get hit in the face with a limb or shoe, but everyone was so into the music that the general impression was that they just didn’t care.

“Hollowpoint Sniper Hyperbole” and “Laces Out”, both hit songs, were the highlights of their set. During “Hollowpoint,” Kebab crowd-surfed again, but this time while singing with a microphone. Another highlight was when Ash screamed to everyone, “Let’s get weird!” and started waving around a plastic flower.

Ash Boo-Schultz and Human Kebab drinking shakes onstage

But the best part of the night was the encore. USS played the high paced “Anti-Venom” and Kebab did a handstand, clapping his feet together to the beat of the song. They followed with a cover of Outkast’s “Hey Ya!”—adding to it their own injection of pure rock ‘n’ roll.

At the end of the encore, Ash brought a blender, strawberries, orange juice and a banana onto the stage. While singing, he peeled the banana and threw it into the blender, along with the strawberries and finally the orange juice. Hitting Blend, he held his guitar to the blender, making the coolest feedback effect in Toronto that night.

Ash and Kebab poured themselves some of the shake and cheered to a good show while the crowd applauded and screamed. Kisses were blown and there was even a final bow. Things could only have been better if Ash and Kebab had shared their shakes with the audience. But there is always next time.

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Photos by Jonathan Hutchinson

Jeremy Page on sax

Canadian Music Week can be a hipster trap – that’s just the nature of Toronto’s scene, and it makes for some boring shows. A cursory glance through the crowd that sardined themselves into the Phoenix Concert Theatre last Wednesday for Mother Mother’s showcase initially confirmed my worst fears – a sleepy crowd of too-cool music week attendees, all of whom came to life just to assure one another that they had plans later that night, with a cooler bar and a local band.

The show was 19+, so the usual clumps of too-enthusiastic Richmond Hill kids with Metropasses in their pockets weren’t there to prop up a lagging performance. Gone, too, were U of T bros and ensuing gaggle of girlfriends. This was hipster hell, and they did not come to dance. They come to sway self-consciously and sip Mill Street from Molson branded cups. I mean, girls were wearing fedoras. No one wears a hat to a show they’re planning on jumping around at, right?

Well, Mother Mother doesn’t care about your accessories. They opened with “O My Heart,” the biggest single from their 2008 album of the same name. Just like that, beers were drained, cups trampled underfoot while their owners rocked out, almost in spite of themselves. From the first chord to the last encore, Mother Mother had every last eyeball and ear drum stuck to them.

Their range is pretty incredible – though obviously eighties inspired, they do a lot of group singing, call-and-response, and the occasional reed instrument. Bassist Jeremy Page pulling out both a sax and a clarinet, though not simultaneously, was a great moment. Even through more mellow tracks like Wisdom or Ghosting, the crowd was obviously trained on the stage, just waiting to be whipped into a flurry for “Hayloft” and “Burning Pile.” The girl with the fedora almost lost it during “Body of Years,” and spent the rest of the set wedging her hat back on, mid-jump.

Molly Guldemond crooning into the mic

The real testament of a band’s live abilities is the length of the post-show coat check line – and the 40 minutes I spent almost cuddled between exhausted and sweaty show goers testified pretty clearly that almost no one left until the last note was struck.

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Photos by Jonathan Hutchinson

Mike Vermeen of San Sebastian

Walking into the venue, I was greeted with the sight of a mixed crowd. There were the 20-somethings drinking beer and watching the basketball game on ESPN and then there were the young girls huddled at the front of the (really small) stage, grooving and sometimes jumping to the catchy lyrics and danceable rhythms of the opening act, San Sebastian.

They’re an indie pop rock group of brothers from Hamilton, Ont., who broke out in the music industry after appearing on MuchMusic’s disband; the essence of their sound captures the easy, carefree spirit of high school students on summer vacation. Which fits, because from the looks of the crowd, that’s exactly the audience to whom they were playing (and that is to say, not counting those drinking beer and watching the game).

The apex of their set was when they played “Young Youth” (fits the whole indie rock, high school thing, doesn’t it?). Before opening the number, there was some sort of back and forth scream match between the lead singer and the crowd (read: adolescent girls), which then turned into actual excited screams when the first notes of the song played. With thanks to MuchMusic and few more words to audience, San Sebastian breezed through the rest of the set. Just before getting offstage, as per usual opening act conduct, the band raised a bit of hype for the upcoming main act.

And just like that, the screaming was amped up to another level. And it didn’t stop.

The crowd (read: adolescent girls) screamed when the crew appeared to set up. They screamed when “Wonderwall” by Oasis played on the speakers. They probably screamed to make sure they could still scream.

Fans watching the performance

The Ballroom has a tiny concert/show space, which meant that the performers and audience weren’t entirely separated. So it did happen on occasion that Justin or another Nozuka brother were seen drifting around behind the stage area, which prompted a few more screams.

And then the girls erupted into a whole chorus of screaming (last mention of it, I promise) when Nozuka finally made his way onstage.

Wearing a black wife beater, canvas shoes and hair in a loose ponytail, he pulled the microphone close and, in his raspy voice, made a simple request.

“Can we have a moment of silence for what happened in Japan yesterday?”

The crowd complied, watching silently as Nozuka and his band closed their eyes and bowed their heads.

Justin Nozuka takes a moment of silence for Japan

And when that moment ended, no time was wasted in starting the show. The band started off slow but strong; the deep melodies floating into the crowd in a way that made the relatively large venue seem intimate. His genuine and heartfelt performance looked good upon the MuchMusic crowd, making them a bit more tolerable for enjoying and appreciating an actually talented musician.

There was a sweet shyness about the way he spoke to the audience in between numbers which, juxtaposed against the heavy intensity with which he performed his songs, made watching Justin Nozuka bear his heart out on stage a real pleasure. Upon listening to his album recordings after the show, which are soft and full of a gentle resonance, it’s clear that they do not do justice to his live performances—soulful and fierce. During “Gray,” Nozuka, with his pulsating body, thrusting hips and arms upraised, sang to something that existed beyond the audience. Perhaps it was to nature, to the stars or to his fellow brothers and sisters. Whatever it may have been, the exultation left Nozuka almost panting and catching his breath at the end of the number.

Jiving with his brothers onstage

But there was a renewed energy by the end of the night when Nozuka was finishing up his set with “After Tonight.” Moving away from the girls and stage to the back of the room, on the other side of where the bar divides the stage from part of the dining area, the older crowd listened in rapture as Nozuka sang out familiar lyrics. The song turned into a rhythmic chant when an accompaniment of a steady clap began.

The sounds of a folk and soul artist one with his audience, clapping and singing his song escorted me as I walked down the stairs to exit. My spirit was high and my soul heavy, as if I just discovered a new dimension to life and a new meaning to what I had always known. Opening the doors and stepping outside to breathe the night air, I strolled away a bit more fulfilled than I was when I came. And then hearing the obnoxious house music that blared from the speakers of the car that drove up next to me at the traffic lights reminded me of something else.

That next time, bring ear plugs.

The INDIE Music Awards are happening with performances by Hollerado, Hannah Georges, Shad and many others. The Interactive Music and Media Summit brings together industry professionals to discuss the relationship between media and its users. The trade show is perfect for those looking to break into the music biz, by putting VIPs in one place—primed for attack and interrogation. As well, the Canadian Music Week Film Festival promises some pretty good rock films, all being shown at the TIFF Bell Lightbox (An Island, a film by Vincent Moon, seems particularly interesting…).

Not to mention shows and performances by 800 artists in 55 venues. All over downtown Toronto.

Oh Dio. Forgive us for hyperventilating.

Canadians don’t produce nearly as much hype as we should for our home-grown talent. But we try. I mean, it ain’t the Grammys, but for the conventions taking place at the Fairmont Royal York, CMW will have its own share of pomp and circumstance.

We can’t even focus our excitement. You’d have trouble too, what with all these events hovering in the near future.

See you there.

Canadian Music Fest 2010–

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Feature image: Year of the Bone movie still, courtesy of www.cmw.net

An entire decade has just passed right before our very eyes, filled with all kinds of technological advances and the synergizing of humans and machines. Each year bears witness to the fact that the human race continues to further rely on the devices and gadgets around them. Using technology has made us more capable and, at the same time, more dependent. What before harnessed the strengths and talents of people now requires machines. We can’t do anything anymore without them. We’ve even taken to using them for interpersonal fulfillment; machines and technology are starting to replace the natural need to connect with another person.

Why are we “addicted” to Facebook or Twitter or any of the multitudes of existing social media networks? Is it because of an unsatisfied desire to truly connect with another human soul that propels us to continuously check our walls, our news feeds, our notifications, hoping that the modicum of interactivity can fill the void that we’ve so neglected? Is it because we really believe that “liking” a comment or link is equivalent to a phone call or face-to-face interaction with another person? And that, coupled with a “more is more” attitude, leads us to further believe that to live a fulfilling life, we absolutely must be mutually involved online with as many people as possible.

Obviously, we have a little bit longer than a year left to live—some of us, anyway. But what if we all didn’t? Let’s, for a moment, toy with the idea that 2012 really would be when shit would go down. How is society going to look back on the last decade of our existence?

Maybe it’ll be defined as the decade of online social networking. Or the decade of really bad mainstream music and the contemporary indie hipster movement. Maybe the 2000s will be marred by the brutal slash that is the War on Terrorism.

Or maybe it’s one of change. In September 2000, the United Nations committed to strive to achieve the Millennium Development Goals (which aim to eradicate extreme poverty and other pressing issues) by 2015. 2008 saw the election of the first non-white leader of the United States of America—an event that shook up the world—while efforts are continually being made to reduce our carbon footprint and change our toxic, wasteful lifestyles with the UN Copenhagen Climate Change Accord.

We’ve seen quick, almost instantaneous relief efforts pour in for natural disasters, (or at least, improved over time—from the tsunami in Asia to Hurricane Katrina to the Haiti earthquake) and increased empathy for tragic human brutalities. Our world is growing smaller and ever the more connected with globalization, better travel options and the presence of the Internet. Exponentially, people are reaching out to one another and making themselves heard.

So if we really had only a year left to live, at least that will be our saving grace.

But this is reality and it’s our duty and responsibility to perpetuate these positive changes. To pave the way towards a better future for us, our future generations and for our planet.

But to do this means to start establishing real connections and bonds again. Connections that can’t be achieved by logging onto the Internet and updating one’s status, hoping for a flood of comments and reactions. Where the 2000s started, it’s up to the 2010 years to continue the humanitarian movement that is necessary to achieve equality and global peace.

And if we can’t do this, or at least try, then maybe we don’t deserve to exist past 2012.

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Featured image by iUnique FX

It seems that they say this at the end of every year, but 2010 really was a big year for music. We understand if you got swept up in new releases from Kanye West, Nicki Minaj, Tokyo Police Club, Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Band of Horses, Dead Weather, etc etc etc. If you’re like me, you forgot all other music existed while you listened to Black Keys’ Brothers for six months straight. However, that being said, the indie music scene, especially in Canada, was equally as prolific in delivering great album after album (and a few rotten eggs, but we’ll get there) in 2010. If you couldn’t see the ads for Caribou’s Swim from behind that Pink Friday billboard, don’t fret: take one more kick at the can with the five best indie releases of 2010.

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Local Natives, Gorilla Manor

This year, Local Natives’ debut album generated the kind of music blogosphere buzz which usually indicates that the album itself will be incredibly underwhelming. However, three minutes into Gorilla Manor, you’ll want to add another five-star rating to their enormous collection. Expect sweeping vocals, looser guitar, primal drums that ring like bongos, and the occasional keyboard, but with a two-bowls-in California cool. Frontman Taylor Rice’s voice is like a triumphant chorus of Bon Iver, but balmy, and frequent all-hands-in choruses make Gorilla Manor sound like a family affair. This record is simple, joyful, the perfect blend of delicate and full-bodied, and my favourite indie release of 2010.

Best Track: Sun Hands

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Caribou, Swim

I’ve always thought of Caribou to be the warmer side of electronic – where it can sometimes be alienating, Caribou’s previous Polaris-winning Andorra was welcoming, but fresh and effortless. Swim, the third full-length from London, Ontario native Dan Snaith, is like Andorra’s cool, older cousin. Swim is electronic done exactly right – no cheesy effects, or ridiculous trying-too-hard arrangements. In a day when everyone and their second cousin is a part-time DJ, it’s a pleasant surprise to hear a competent musician play with synthesizers and make them work perfectly with violins, harpsichords and Tibetan bowls. Swim is a lesson in dreaming, and a perfect reminder that not all electro is, well, garbage.

Best Track: Sun

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The Drums, The Drums

So, this album has “Let’s Go Surfing,” the ridiculously catchy indie anthem that received mainstream play with a charming, DIY video and is also one of my favourite songs of the year. The Drums are a hybrid of Empire of the Sun and Coconut Records, dipped in Edward Sharpe. Quick drums, lots of tambourines and whistling, and plucky guitar, with cotton-candy keyboards keep even the saddest songs on this album hopeful. And there are some sad songs – a real look at the lyrics in Book of Stories or We Tried reveals pretty grim subject matter. This is an album for those starting 2010 a little worse for the wear, who want to lick their wounds to the tune of optimism.

Best Track: Let’s Go Surfing

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Beach House, Teen Dream

Teen Dream sounds like the haze of late summer. The two-man Baltimore group blends plucky guitar with frontwoman Victoria Legrand’s lilting vocals and some gentle keyboard – the recipe for an album perfect for both background and foreground. It’s lo-fi dream pop steeped in sunlight, and the appeal seems pretty universal – Beyonce and Jay-Z have both been spotted at Beach House shows. Teen Dream never fails to melt the stress knots in my shoulders, so put it on those afternoons you purposefully leave open to eat peanut butter sandwiches on your couch. You can thank me later.

Best Track: Silver Soul

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The National, High Violet

The National exists in a weird middle-ground between mainstream success and the undertow that drags down every established band about to plateau. Their albums are consistently panned by critics but hailed by listeners, and High Violet is no exception – including the fact that it’s really, really good. They’re almost Band of Horses-esque, but a little less sharp and with a pack-a-day smoker as the lead singer. High Violet is the denim jacket of music – stiff at first, but gets more comfortable with each play. While my own friend maintains that he “just can’t listen to it,” I insist that if you give The National a good, solid and honest listen, their unaggressive and melodic and beautifully sad songs will take you places.

Best Track: Afraid of Everyone

Honorable Mentions: Best Coast – Crazy For You, Matt and Kim – Sidewalks, Shad – TSOL, Chromeo – Business Casual, Freelance Whales – Weathervanes, and Wildlife – Strike Hard, Young Diamond.

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Biggest Disappointment: Born Ruffians, Say It.

The thing about Born Ruffians is this: I love them. They’re totally nice in real life, really solid live, and they’re from Midland. Midland! Adorable, right? Also, their first album Red, Yellow and Blue was pretty great; Hummingbird remains one of my favourite songs of all time. At their best, the Ruffians are a spinning top – whirling vocals and jumpy guitars that seem constantly at risk of derailing, but never do. You can hear the ghost of their previous sound in What to Say, easily the best song on Say It (the album comes with a great remix of this song) but Retard Canard and the Ballad of Moose Bruce sink this album in ways I never thought possible. It’s a gelatinous mess of their previously-delightful unrehearsed style, and a depressing reminder of how real the sophomore-album-curse can be.

Best Track: What to Say

Worst Track: Higher and Higher

All Day, the newest, somewhat-surprise release from Gregg Gillis, Philadelphia-based DJ extraordinaire who’s better known as Girl Talk, is most aptly described as an A.D.D. love letter to summer; exuberant, perfectly paced and almost relentlessly sunny. Those who aren’t already on team Girl Talk will most definitely be won over by the perfect marriage of the upbeat indie songs stuck on repeat during the day, and the grittier Southern hip-hop that only sounds right very late while very drunk.

What makes Gillis’ work so popular is the mood he creates: it’s almost welcoming. All Day has the atmosphere of a giant inside joke, with listeners constantly digesting nods to different moments in pop culture. He may tread in familiar territory, cherry-picking the best parts of pop music from the last fifty years or so, but he manages to distort your perception of how these songs should sound; he bends the limits of tone, genre, and direction in the originals while keeping them intact enough that you instantly recognize every piece.

Each album Gillis releases shows him leaning in a cleaner direction – an obvious maturation from his gritty early releases, like Night Ripper. This newer, simpler, arguably sweeter approach is evident in the better parts of 2008’s Feed the Animals, and All Day comes off as the natural progression of those sounds; it’s the work of an artist growing with the tools of his medium, instead of fighting them. His previously relentless pacing is now punctuated with just enough breathing room to make All Day perfect listening material for subways and Saturday nights.

That being said, not all of All Day seems to be subject to Gillis’ newly honed editing eye (or ear) and there are certainly some sections which rally against the smooth-as-silk summer feel of the majority of the album. This 10 per cent or so houses some really ill-advised combinations; Lil Wayne and New Order; or Fat Man Scoop’s Party Anthem with Black Eyed Peas most recall his previous, fast-and-furious approach.

There’s one section that pops on each of Girl Talk’s albums – Here’s The Thing (from Feed the Animals) had my heart previously, but everything within a five-minute radius of the Single Ladies portion of That’s Right blows my mind. Let’s start with Fat Joe and Space Hog (1:40): serene with a beat you can nod to, and the tiniest bit epic, like something very important might be happening to you while it plays.

This drops right into Single Ladies vocals with M.O.P.’s Ante Up backing, which is completely irresistible – though not as charming as I find Ante Up to be over Party in the USA, thankfully with no sampled vocals from Miley Cyrus. This is one of the most exuberant parts of All Day, and a great example of Gillis’ new found restraint – it’s perfectly simple, and he gives you time to miss it for just a second before you’re shoved into a unyieldingly sunny version of I Wish I Was A Little Bit Taller.

Girl Talk’s work has always been charming; a perfect blend of the best songs you’ve never heard and the ones you forgot you loved. All Day raises the bar with confidence and a new refined, approach. While not without its flaws, this album is the strongest offering yet from the reigning king of mash-up.

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Image by Christos Schizas

There are a lot of factors that should be included in that line. Such as wind speeds that could potentially affect all players, the paths each player takes, start times and break times and a myriad of others.

But what if, hypothetically, there is no race? Slow and steady…wins…um…

That’s our dilemma. What do we get by being slow and steady? Because we’re certainly not in a race where that moral could be a predictor of success.

Let us know if you have a solid answer.

In the meantime, this is a formal apology/notice/yeah-we’re-on-it for the slow trickle of articles and pieces. We’re still gathering the forces behind the magazine and getting ready to rally up. And not just that, but deciding what needs to be proclaimed to the world through the journalistic equivalent of signs, banners and chants.

It’s not an easy task to focus your content. That’s like telling a musician she can only compose ballads. Why not diversify and show the full range of one’s talents and engage audiences in multiple streams of storytelling?

Alas, that’s marketing. And then there’s developing a plan and a target and all that fun business lingo. Corporate principles killing the soul of the arts.

But who are we but just cogs in the wheel of it all? We follow our predecessors and operate silently according to established concepts.

No need to break outside the box. We’ll sit comfortably inside until we’ve gained the right footing to stand up and smash the glass walls. We like to think like Picasso (since we’re on the theme of artistic direction); we’ll learn the rules before we break them.

Although we’re slow at that too.

Until next time,

Trinh Theresa Do

PS: The featured image is not related to anything mentioned in this post. It just looks pretty.