Posts Tagged ‘artesian on 13th’

SLCR #184: Sarah Slean (February 22, 2013)

March 8, 2013

I was pretty sure this one wasn’t going to happen. Tickets had been on sale for weeks and I kept putting off buying them. There were just too many shows last year that we wound up skipping out on. Finally, Mark offered to pick up tickets for me and (the other) James. This was on a Friday. On Monday, I got the Artesian’s email newsletter which mentioned the show being sold out.

I suppose trying for suspense is a useless endeavour, given that I’m posting a review of the show? Fine. Mark came through, snagging us some tickets right before they ran out.

And when the day of the show rolled around, I was almost a little disappointed that he did. This is where I’d insert my usual speech about being a tired old man who just wants to sleep his life away if I thought you hadn’t heard it 50 times already. But I had yet to pay Mark for the ticket and I would have felt bad about standing him up, so off I went.

We met at the Freehouse. I was about 20 minutes late, leaving me no time to grab a beer before the show. Instead, I picked at Mark’s sweet potato fries (not a euphemism) while James hugged all the servers goodbye. Mark and James both live downtown and appear to be on a first-name basis with every server in every restaurant within walking distance of their respective dwellings. Or at least the attractive lady servers.

We walked the cold, windy block to the Artesian. Once inside, Mark immediately disappeared while James and I checked our coats. We stumbled blindly into the hall, which was already half full, to discover that somehow, Mark had secured himself a seat in the second row, and two seats for James and me in the very front row. I have no idea how he was able to pull this off. Did he have to kill a man? Or maybe three men? If so, what did he do with the bodies? How did nobody see? Or did he scare everyone into silence? He IS both intimidating and resourceful…

Anyway, point being, I wound up in the exact same seat that I had for the Steven Page show. I immediately texted Mary to brag about this. Mark and James, meanwhile, were busy making friends with the people sitting all around us. I have never been that outgoing and I suspect I never will be. I’m not sure if that’s something you’re born with or if you can train yourself. Is there a course I can take? Preferably online so I don’t have to talk to anyone?

Our opening act was Ian Kelly, a singer-songwriter type from Montreal; specifically, the same neighbourhood in Montreal where Mark’s girlfriend lives. Of COURSE James and Mark would find this out within seconds of talking to him (or someone working the stuff table, or someone who had heard of him, or some random person). Why wouldn’t they?

Kelly took the stage, thanked us for our applause, and promised a fine round of depressing songs. He only had a short set, a half-hour or so, and spent a fair bit of the time just chatting with the crowd, at least in part about the really good lasagna he’d had backstage. This line of conversation continued when we briefly met with him on our way out after the show. “It had sweet potatoes in it!”

note to self: sweet potatoes in 2013 concert reviews could be the new chicken fingers in 1998 concert reviews – think about ways to beat joke to death

I was unfamiliar with Ian Kelly’s music (this is a nice way of saying I had never heard of this guy before), but the standout song was I Would Have You, a witty number about jetski love, dreams of opening for Rush, and not becoming an asshole. I later bought the song on iTunes and Mika said “it sounds like your kind of song.” I choose to take that as a compliment and I also choose to not think too hard about that choice. At any rate, I found Ian Kelly pretty entertaining and he was the rare opening act who understayed his welcome. I’d make a point of going to see him if he came back.

Sarah Slean was touring in support of her newest record, a double album called Land & Sea. Specifically, she was touring in support of Sea, the more mellow, orchestral disc. To recreate the sound in a live setting, there were eight or nine people packed onto the Artesian’s small stage; among them, a few violinists, a stand-up bassist (meaning that he was playing the stand-up bass, not that he was forthright) (although I don’t know that he wasn’t), a drummer, a backing vocalist, and Slean herself on piano. Apparently on some shows, Slean included additional local musicians, but here, there was literally no place for them. As it was, when Slean would step away from her piano and trade places with her backup singer, it took some creative maneuvering to make it across the stage.

Whether at the piano or the microphone, Slean was directly right in front of where we were sitting. Mark had managed to secure the two best seats in the house for James and I. He seemed quite pleased with himself, and deservedly so. He also noted that we appeared to be the only men at the concert who hadn’t been dragged there. He might have been right with that one. The crowd was predominantly female, and this was never more obvious then when Slean said she was tired of wearing heels and kicked her shoes off, and the crowd responded with a high-pitched squeal of appreciation and understanding.

She had more of a sense of humour than I would have guessed. This should not be, considering I copied and pasted that sentence out of my review from the first time I saw her. That was almost eight years and 100 reviews ago and I’ve only seen her once more since then, so I suppose I should allow myself a little forgetfulness, but c’mon now. She sings pretty songs, that doesn’t mean she can’t make jokes.

Hey, I suppose you want to know how the songs went. They were good!

iknowiknowican’tstoptherewhydon’tyoupeopleeverletmestopthere

I had never picked up Land & Sea, so I was going into the show blind. I figured you guys were probably tired of me saying “I bought the album and had good intentions of listening to it before the show, but then I never did,” so I decided to just skip that whole “good intentions” part. Gotta mix things up, keep it fresh.

With that in mind, I liked all the new songs, though I don’t know that any one in particular really stood out for me. I’m boring and predictable; my favourites were the few songs I already knew (primarily, a handful of songs off Day One). I do gravitate to the familiar and comfortable and non-threatening, and you’re all like “dude, you were at a Sarah Slean show, could that be any less threatening?” and I’m all “did you ever notice that the first line of Pilgrim is ‘a little blood and vomit on the car seat’ because I never really thought about that before and judging from the crowd all giggling out their ‘ewww’s, I’m guessing they didn’t either” and you’re all “but is that really THREATENING, per se?” and I’m all like “no, imaginary person, but I started making up this conversation with you before I had an ending in mind” and so here we are.

All of which is a long-winded, occasionally confusing, and possibly poorly punctuated way of saying that I liked the show. I’ll not likely get to see those songs performed in that way again, so that was really cool. She usually seems to do shows by herself on piano or with a more traditional pop band. But here’s the thing – saying “liked” might indicate that I was the least satisfied customer in attendance. I mean, there were people there who were completely blown away by what they’d seen. I almost felt guilty for merely “liking.”

After the show, James grabbed Sarah’s setlist. Each musician left one behind, but she’d marked up hers with last-minute changes and notes. He promised to get me a print-quality picture or scan that I could use when I someday put all my concert reviews in a book. I don’t intend to ever change this paragraph – you’ll have to wait until then to know whether or not he came through. Give me a decade or two.

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SLCR #183: Steven Page (December 12, 2012)

January 14, 2013

Sarah Slean is coming here in February. While looking at the Artesian’s website to determine if I should be buying tickets now (answer: probably, but I still haven’t yet done so), I saw that Steven Page would be here three nights later. I knew Mika wasn’t interested, so I asked Mark and James if they wanted to go. When they couldn’t make it, I made plans to spend the night of the show finishing up my Christmas shopping. But Mark told Mary that I was going (which was not, technically speaking, true), and so on Wednesday afternoon, plans changed.

I was glad to get the chance to go. My fandom of Barenaked Ladies has waned greatly over the years. I saw them a few years ago and still had a good time, but I really only went because Joel Plaskett was opening. I think the departure of Steven Page from BNL is a big part of why my interest has lessened. Barenaked Ladies’ first record without Steven Page was decidedly not my thing, but I liked Steven Page’s first post-BNL solo record, Page One, a fair bit. I hadn’t seen him live since the split and had wanted to see what his shows were like. In fact, in one of those weird coincidence things, I’d been wondering what he was up to just one day before finding out about the show.

Mika dropped me off at Mary’s house so she could carry on with Christmas shopping while Mary and I set out for the Artesian. On the way to the show, Mary told me the most amazing story about the time she met Steven Page 20 years ago. Most of the details must unfortunately be left off the internet; let’s just say that the part where he was riding in her Volvo to a Fishbone concert while they all sang Word Up by Cameo wasn’t even the highlight.

The Artesian is a relatively new venue and it was a lovely, cozy little place. I believe it’s a converted church. There’s a bar downstairs where Mary treated us to Stellas and we chatted with the owner. She said that the place holds about 160 people at capacity. Upstairs, there’s a decently-sized stage with raised benches at the back of the room. The floor had seating for the show, but it could have been removed if a dancier band was playing. By the time the show began, I figure there was around 100 people there. Since we made it early, we were able to snag two seats in the front row.

The opener, for lack of a better term, took the stage about ten minutes after the scheduled start time. Just as I’m thinking “hey, that guy looks really familiar,” he introduced himself as Craig Northey from Odds. I liked them a bunch and had no idea he’d be here, so I was pretty delighted by this development. He opened with a song that he’d co-written with Jesse Valenzuela of the Gin Blossoms; given our proximity to the fictional town of Dog River/real-life town (and film site) of Rouleau, I was half-expecting it to be the theme to Corner Gas but that was not the case. He then played a new song from the upcoming Odds record which I really enjoyed. Steven Page joined in on melodica halfway through the song, at which point the show began in earnest.

When talking about this show with friends, the thing they ask most often is “so, did he just play Barenaked Ladies songs?” Probably about half the show was BNL classics, but it was interesting to see which ones. I’m not about to go digging through liner notes right now to see who wrote or co-wrote what, but the BNL songs Page played in Regina had a distinct lack of their trademark silliness. It wasn’t one week since anything, there were no postcards from chimpanzees, this was not him in Grade 9. We got a lot of the songs that always made me feel like there was a real band behind their on-stage goofiness: Brian Wilson, Jane, The Old Apartment, What A Good Boy, Alternative Girlfriend, Break Your Heart, Call and Answer. These songs are similar in tone to the ones on his solo records Page One and The Vanity Project, and tracks from these albums comprised most of the rest of the show. Page also played a few new songs and Northey sang two Odds hits (Someone Who’s Cool and It Falls Apart). I could have done with more Odds songs, but it’s not really fair to ask for that when it wasn’t an Odds show.

And Page talked. The show ran about three hours with a brief intermission, and a lot of that time was spent conversing with Northey and the crowd. The night before in Swift Current (seriously, why does everyone play Swift Current these days?), someone had suggested to Page that maybe he should spend less time talking while he’s on stage, and I’m glad he didn’t listen. The small crowd and intimate venue made the show feel very personal, and the ongoing dialogue only helped enhance that mood. He cracked jokes and talked about everything from his inspirations to road stories to life with his kids.

When I saw Barenaked Ladies a few years ago, they seemed determined to show their fans that despite Page’s departure, nothing had really changed. They played all of their old songs with Ed Robertson taking over where Page used to sing lead vocals, but I preferred the handful of songs where Kevin Hearn took over. Page and Hearn sound nothing alike and the songs had to change accordingly. It was more interesting to hear the familiar songs with a completely new voice instead of Robertson’s (perfectly adequate) Page impression.

I mention this because Page’s approach is the complete opposite. Not only did he play songs that the Barenaked Ladies made famous, he openly discussed his removal from the band. He told stories from the past and came across like he remembered that time with fondness, but he also went into detail about how he’d disappointed people along the way and how difficult, in retrospect, he’d been to work with. The openness helped contribute to the personal feel of the show, but I suppose there’s no reason for him to try and avoid anything. His drug arrest (charges were eventually dropped) and subsequent departure from the band were well-known, and his solo career really is like starting over, in a way. Even now, over a decade removed from Barenaked Ladies’ greatest commercial success, they come to Regina and still play a 2,000-seat theatre. That’s a step down from the hockey arena I’d previously seen them at, but it’s still twenty times the people who were at Page’s solo show. But if nothing else, it does give him the freedom to do what he wants instead of what the crowd expects.

For the encore, Page and Northey were joined by Regina’s Jason Plumb and his iPad. Plumb was a member of The Waltons, officially completing the Canadian mid-90s trifecta – how did we not get a Crash Test Dummy on stage for this? Was the guy from Wide Mouth Mason busy? What about the non-Jians from Moxy Früvous? Barenaked Ladies, The Waltons, and Odds had played together in various combinations before, but this marked the first time these three played on stage together. They covered Better Be Home Soon by Crowded House and Throw Your Arms Around Me by Hunters & Collectors, with the iPad providing lyrics.

After the show, we went back to the Artesian’s basement to meet up with Page so Mary could reminisce with him about that Fishbone show (and all the events surrounding it). I first got to chat a bit with Jason Plumb; the first time I saw Barenaked Ladies, they covered the Waltons’ song Nothing Colder Than You but rewrote the lyrics to commemorate a time that Plumb had accidentally sat on the hot rocks in a sauna (alcohol may have been a factor) and burnt his ass. It turns out that Plumb was actually at that show – and on a first date, no less. “I’m so glad someone remembers that,” he said, in a way that suggested he may not have been entirely truthful. A friend he was talking to joined in with “I’ve never burnt my ass,” said in the most deadpan, matter-of-fact manner. I thought this was about the funniest thing ever. I’d say “you had to be there” but even those that were there seemed unaffected.

Anyway, after a quick chat with Plumb, we got to spend a minute talking to Page and Northey. I talked to Northey about the time I saw Odds in Saskatoon and they didn’t turn off the TVs in the bar and the band was distractedly watching WCW Monday Nitro while playing. “Did I comment on the wrestling?” Northey asked. I assured him that he had. Specifically, he asked if there was anyone out there who could stop Meng. Before reliving memories of the Fishbone show with Page, Mary grabbed a few pictures of me with Page and Northey, and while I look like a tremendous goofball in both shots, I’m glad to have them as souvenirs of the evening. Plumb, Northey, and Page were all very gracious and came across like really nice guys.

On the drive home, Mary repeatedly said that she had a great time and was glad that we went, and I had to agree. I figured the show would be decent, but I was blown away. Page was entertaining from start to finish, we got a nice diverse mix of songs, and the sound at the Artesian was great. The appearances of Northey and Plumb were great surprises. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a three-hour show, and even longer since I went to one and wasn’t ready to leave well before the artist was done. This was right up there with the best shows of the year.