Janel & Anthony—Where Is Home (Cuneiform)

Janel & Anthony’s music is both personal and personable. I like that they’ve chosen to feature themselves on the cover of Where Is Home, posed amongst quaint objects, musical and otherwise. They could have used a photo of a derelict barn or a misty birch grove for the cover, but they didn’t. There they are: “We’re the two people who made this music.” Even before the record gets played, we have names and faces; a human connection to the art that lies inside the jewel case.

Janel Leppin and Anthony Pirog are both active in the Washington DC experimental music scene. They make music separately and together. This is their second album as a duo. Janel plays cello and guitar; Anthony plays guitar. Those instruments create the foundation of their sound, but they also use looping to build layers and establish backdrops for solos. A few other instruments—various keyboards and percussion odds and ends—are in the mix as well. There are some jazz and folk flavours in their music, but they’re blended into the duo’s own elusive style. It’s detailed and exploratory, spacious and often wistful, and very well mannered. No single instrument dominates the space. Janel and Anthony clearly have a high-functioning, harmonious musical partnership.

Their songs are for the most part tight and disciplined with ear-grabbing, repeating themes and space reserved for non-indulgent soloing. The rapid-fire “Big Sur” is some kind of a gypsy bluegrass hoedown, driven by Leppin’s ostinado, Pirog’s twangy picking, and some exciting unison runs. Many of the other tracks are more sombre, like the wistful “Leaving the Woods” and its gliding guitar lines, volume swells, and of course, the cello moaning away, not shying away from its status as the world’s saddest instrument. “Mustang Song” has them both on guitar, picking out a haunting tune that’s like a tidier, more elaborate take on what Earth are doing these days. Linking most of the longer tracks are short, spontaneous-sounding pieces that vibrate in sympathy with their neighbours and keep the album flowing. Of these, “’Cross the Williamsburg Bridge” and “Auburn Road” stand out as lovely little tunes.

For all their inventiveness in making such elaborate music as a duo, Janel & Anthony’s music brims with emotion and personality. Where Is Home is a gem, and seriously cool from start to finish.

Metallica 3D Movie Shoot at Rogers Arena, August 27, 2012

Having lived in Hollywood North my whole life, it’s almost inevitable that I’ve worked a couple times as an extra on film and TV shoots around town. It’s almost like everyone's civic duty. As you’d imagine, these were long days mostly spent waiting around for a few two-minute bursts of action when the cameras rolled. The job was basically boring, but it made for an interesting day off from my regular job. The pay was OK, and I got fed, plus I might see myself on the teevee sometime.

Monday night’s Metallica event felt almost exactly like being on the set again, except on a much larger scale. Also, there was no catering truck, and we sure as hell wouldn’t be collecting a paycheque. The dynamic was exactly the same, however: brief outpourings of energy followed by long waits where we watched men wearing headsets run around and fuss with cameras.

The show was billed as a “3D Movie Shoot” and all tickets were 5 bucks. Proceeds went to the Vancouver Food Bank, which was a classy move on the band’s part. Metallica had already played two “real” shows on the weekend that were also filmed (read Kyle Harcott’s account here). This extra show presumably gave them a chance to shoot additional coverage and footage that wasn’t possible to get during the other shows. I was fully prepared for it to be a little unusual, and went in expecting to be at the mercy of the film crew. You know, maybe there’d be a camera occasionally blocking the view, or they might need to stop the show a few times to try a new setup or something.

We were there for four and a half hours. And I thought 1991’s “Evening with Metallica” Black Album show was a marathon. Pah, that went by in a blink of a gnat’s eyelash compared to this. Things got underway with the Assistant Director coming out, thanking us for coming and explaining there would be a lot of breaks in the action. He also asked us to keep our energy levels high—which sounded like a reasonable request at that point—and avoid looking at the cameras, which would be swooping around on booms and traversing the arena on wires.

The lights went down and the band came on and played “Creeping Death” and, wow, it felt just like a Metallica concert! My buddy on my left was snapping pictures like a madman, as he does. The beer-guzzling Australian guy on my right was yelling all the lyrics. Dennis from Sinned was whipping his hair around a couple rows down. It was a totally authentic concert experience for six minutes and thirty-six seconds. Who needs 3D movies; I'd gotten in to see Metallica for five bucks! The song ended and they started pounding out the intro to “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and then… intermission time! The band walked off to their respective offstage areas while the techs paced around dealing with their issues. A few minutes later, the band picked up with the second half of “Creeping Death” then played “For Whom…” all the way through.

And so it went—lights out, a song, then lights up and another long break. Sometimes it was only half a song. They played the first half of “Sad But True” and the last bit of “Nothing Else Matters.” They played “Fuel” and “One” twice. During the audience participation parts, the PA was turned way down so they could get a good recording of the crowd to add to the final sound mix, I assume. As a once-estranged member of the Metallica family, I tried to be a good extra. When I gave up on Metallica after Load, I never imagined that I’d one day find myself warbling along with the Marianne Faithfull part from “The Memory Remains.” But there I was, trying to keep up with my Aussie pal with my out-of-tune “La-da-da-das.”

When they were playing, they were the Metallica we know and (sometimes) love, racing through a pretty decent setlist. Three songs from Ride the Lightning made the cut, along with a couple each from Master and Justice. Between songs the band teased us with bits of “The Call of Ktulu,” “Symptom of the Universe,” and “Oh Well”, but they didn’t give us any full bonus tracks. Everyone in the band is playing well these days. Hetfield’s right hand is lethal as ever. Lars Ulrich looks like he’s playing fast and loose, throwing in new fills and often generally being on the verge of getting crossed up, but he always kept it together.

The songs were good, the band was good. The biggest obstacle to enjoying the event was that it didn’t flow like a concert; there was no build up to anything—so much so that when the band did “Enter Sandman” and the show’s climactic set piece went off, our reaction was more "Wha—?" than "Whoa!" Was the staging really supposed to fall apart like that? Are people actually hurt? After the few hours that had passed and all the distracting technical issues we’d already observed—mics malfunctioning, cameras being dismantled, etc.—the fact that we’d reached the end of the “concert” took a while to register.

By the time they’d wrapped up their Garage Days encore of “Seek & Destroy,” featuring an absurd “Metal Up Your Ass” toilet prop, a good third to half the crowd had left. Some members of the Metallica family obviously had an early bedtime. Those of us who stuck around saw additional takes of the show’s two biggest production numbers. “Fuel” was punctuated by huge fireballs erupting from the stage floor, and “One” started with an elaborate battle sequence made up of explosions, simulated tracer bullets, and more fireballs. With those songs filmed in their 3D glory once again, the AD and each member of the band thanked us for being there, and we were set loose. That was a wrap.

I steered clear of the Stadium SkyTrain station and walked over to Main Street where I could catch a bus home. I felt dead on my feet, famished and weary, thinking I’d never need to listen to Metallica for another 20 years. Right then, a car pulled up blasting “Sad But True.” Fuckin’ A, dudes. You win. I’ll see you at the theatre when the Metallica movie comes out.

(Photos by Ian McClelland. Thanks, JR!)

Black Wizard, with Tobeatic, Weirding, The Rock Band Called Time, and WTCHDR at the Rickshaw Theater, June 30, 2012

As if playing in a ruling band wasn’t enough, Chris Dyck of Ancients (along with Sab Kay Design) has created Nothing Is Heavy to book and promote gigs around town. The first Nothing Is Heavy event went down last Saturday night, and the amazing lineup of local talent made for a storming show. Everything was heavy!

WTCHDR are turning into a tight, powerful unit. Forget about easing us into an evening dominated by somewhat more laid-back bands—WTCHDR gave us the full shock treatment. Their style incorporates a variety of tempos, from crawling sludge to pummelling grind. Most songs were brief explosions of chaos and anguish (their vocalist sounds like he has a lot on his mind), underpinned by two guitars downtuned to the key of Hell and some really impressive drumming. We had achieved liftoff.

The Rock Band Called Time not only have the coolest name ever, but they’re the sort of band that’s not afraid to rhyme “lose control” with “rock and roll”. They were just pure power-trio sweetness. Needless to say, I was on board from the first chord they struck. Playing such a classic style might look simple, but it’s not easy to pull off, especially in a trio format. Every note and every beat needs to stand on its own, or the whole enterprise falls apart. As the lead vocalist/lead guitarist, Braden is the most assured and accomplished performer, and clearly the musical force behind the band, but the rhythm section holds it together. Their drummer was playing on Weirding’s kit, which appeared to take him a song or two to get used to, but the whole band was quickly up and grooving. Their material was bang-on as well, nailing that no-nonsense ’70s style. You like Lizzy? Quo? Rory Gallagher? Maybe some newer retro-rock, like Firebird or Graveyard? Then you need to check these guys out.

Time for a power trio of a different stripe, shifting gears from speedin’ along the Freedom Rock highway to sinking into the tarpit of terror. Stoner/doom lords WEIRDING are all about power chords, amplifier worship, and relentless distortion curdling the air. While WEIRDING are a fantastic live band with a raft of memorable songs, their whole approach is also a testament to the simple joys of turning it up really fucking loud, slamming the pick hand down and going BRRRUUUUUUNNNGGG! I bet if you stood stock still in the theatre you’d vibrate clear across the floor. From the triumphant thud of opener “Bastard” (already a classic track in my mind) to the lurching horror of “As a Crown,” to the final feedback flourish, this was a brilliant set mostly drawn from their debut full-length, Each Birth Is a New Disaster, newly pressed on vinyl and available at the show. WEIRDING really have it together, lineup-wise. Each dude’s talents is well matched to the others, they all throw themselves into it, and I can’t imagine it being the same band should one of them leave. Guitar, bass, drums—they all crush.

During the changeover I could see that we were in for another change of pace with Tobeatic. There were now six musicians on stage, including up to three guitarists and a keyboardist with a bunch of effects boxes at hand. This could get interesting. But I wasn’t prepared for the total onslaught of the band in full flight. Tobeatic were like a gruesome collision between Uriah Heep and Motörhead, creating a glorious, riff-crazed racket that pushed beyond psych-rock territory into a truly dangerous realm. The now-packed room picked up on the vibe as well—people were starting to go off. The band's momentum was enough to shake off a kick-pedal disaster late in the set, get rolling again and power through to the end. Afther their deranged headrush of a set, I can't wait to catch them again. I'm still trying to process what I saw.

Failure notice: Sorry, but I bailed early and missed Black Wizard. My travelling companion, not used to such stacked bills, reached his saturation point after Tobeatic, and I kinda felt the same. But now I feel like kicking myself in the head for having missed them, based on the visual evidence in this Aaron Davidson photo gallery. Anyway, I paid the cover, bought merch—just trying to do my bit.

Live Action, Spring 2012

The gig-going year got off to slow start, but things picked up after the Ancients extravaganza in March. Some interesting and impressive tours have come through town lately…and also Van Halen. Here’s a quick rundown of some shows I attended this spring. I didn’t take any notes at these gigs; I’m working from memory, so details and insight are pretty sketchy. I just wanted to get these down for the record.

April 1: Helms Alee, Thrones, Anion, Dead Terror at Iron Road Studios

Finding Iron Road Studios was a challenge. I followed my usual strategy of discreetly tailing a likely looking pair of rockers off the Hastings bus and down some desolate East Van alleyways till I reached the venue, which doubles as a rehearsal studio. Once I was inside I still had a hard time finding the exact room where the gig was happening. I could hear bands playing behind every door! After doing a complete lap of the place, I found the makeshift bar and merch tables, along with the main room itself. I missed Dead Terror but arrived as Anion were setting up. I’ve seen this band so often lately that I’ve run out of things to say about them. They were loud and intense as usual. Thrones consisted of Joe Preston, his bass, drum machine, and a cluster of very large amps and cabs. Although he played a bass, he doesn’t play bass, if you know what I mean. His music was droney, sludgy, at times ethereal with his pitch-shifted vocals floating overtop. For me, the highlight of his set was a cool interpretation of Amon Duul II’s “Deutsch Népal.” Seattle trio Helms Alee played a sweaty, powerful set of art-skewed heaviness. Tremendous.

April 27: Mares of Thrace, Anion, Weirding, WCHDTR at Funky Winkerbeans

WTCHDR (that’s “Witchdoctor” to you and me) are a newish outfit featuring a couple Burning Ghats. They had the heavy, grindy mayhem down pat; it was just hard to discern what their particular angle on it was. Maybe I’ll figure it out next time I see them. I last saw Weirding at their disastrous DIEcember Fest appearance, where amp problems kiboshed their set halfway through their first number. It looked like the curse had followed them to Funky’s fortress-like stage when their guitarist broke a string before playing a single note in anger. They recovered nicely though and played a great set. Apparently there is Weirding vinyl on the way, so you need to get your mitts on that when it arrives. Anion were up next, rocking up a cake-fueled frenzy on frontman Johnny Matter’s birthday. Mares of Thrace had a troublesome sound-check—half of Thérèse Lanz’s amp setup wasn’t working properly—followed by a couple awkward/comedic minutes waiting for the “all-clear” from the sound guy to start their set. The amp problems continued, but the duo didn’t let any technical issues slow them down. MoT’s chemistry on stage is a joy to observe. You don’t often see bands of their ilk smiling amidst the din they create, but there are moments when the veil of ferocity lifts and they exchange a quick grin for some reason—whether at a little mistake (I didn’t hear any), some in-joke related to the song they're performing, or simply from the fun of playing the music in the moment. The crowd at Funky’s adored them, and demanded (and received) an encore.

April 28: Antediluvian, Mitochondrion, Auroch, Radioactive Vomit at The Rickshaw

Radioactive Vomit kicked off this night of 100-proof, Ten Fucking Skulls Death Metal encased in leather and spikes, hoods and masks. Auroch were a touch classier but no less brutal, delivering some impressive black/death metal as a bass-less trio. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Mitochondrion for a long time, and I wasn’t disappointed. Their presentation was imposing, stoic, and unique, with the drummer’s interesting half-acoustic/half-electronic setup. A trio of twisted minds working as one, they summoned a whirlwind of gruesome sound. Antediluvian had their own unified look, clad in tunics draped with bones, but appeared to struggle to get their sound across. The Rickshaw PA wasn’t helping much either. Although I admit not being very familiar with the band’s material, what I was hearing didn’t give me much to take away, save for a few quieter, atmospheric passages. Despite the sonic deficiencies, the crowd was thrilled to be witnessing the spectacle.

May 1: Opeth, Mastodon, Ghost at The Orpheum

The Heritage Hunter Tour proved to be a tidy, efficient package, custom tailored to give the people what they wanted. Pity the unfortunate Mrs. Mule, who missed Ghost while SkyTraining to the venue after work. Stupid early shows with 7:00 start times. There are no surprises anymore in this YouTube era, so Ghost delivered what I expected. The quintet of nameless ghouls was polished and professional during this recital of Opus Eponymous, save for a track or two (they left out “Stand by Him,” my personal favourite). Judging by the number of people sporting Ghost merch before their set, the Swedes had made a lot of fans already, and gained a lot more afterwards. Mastodon are a great live band, no question, but they’re all business, blowing through their set—most of The Hunter, with at least one song each from Crack the Skye, Blood Mountain, and Leviathan—like a well-tuned machine. From my vantage point, Troy Sanders looked like the only member working to engage the crowd. There was no banter, just some impeccable music. After the last song (I think “Blood and Thunder” ended the set) Brann Dailor thanked the crowd and they were outta there. It was a weird vibe at The Commodore the last time Opeth played here, with the tough-guy grumbling getting louder as the band played through their exclusively mellow set list. The Orpheum crowd was more relaxed, taking the Heritage material in stride and rejoicing in heavier tracks like “Demon of the Fall” and “The Grand Conjuration” tossed at us later in the set. While death metal vocals aren’t Mikael Åkerfeldt’s forte anymore, banter still is. He namechecked Rush and April Wine, teased the crowd about Sweden’s hockey superiority, and mentioned that they had shot the video for “Burden” just down the street at the Vogue Theatre. Putting the band in a plush, all-ages venue more suited to their current musical direction was a good move. It was a satisfying, if not exactly revelatory, evening out.

Mares of Thrace—The Pilgrimage (Sonic Unyon Metal)

Calgary duo Mares of Thrace’s second album perfects their raging brand of creepy-crawly noise rock. Their debut, The Moulting, certainly did a great job capturing what they were all about, but the recording’s ragged urgency revealed a few rough seams. They were still a fairly new band at that point. After seeing them live a couple times in 2010 it was clear that their fierce playing and dedication to touring would pay off on their follow-up album, and it has. The Pilgrimage outdoes its predecessor in every way. Sanford Parker handled the recording and mix, and extracted the maximum precision and intensity from the group. The sound is huge, built on the twin forces of G. Thérèse Lanz's bulldozing baritone guitar and Stefani MacKichan’s thunderous drum kit. Adding another musician would be redundant, I think; the band’s existing approach doesn’t suit. It wouldn’t be Mares of Thrace anymore. While the red-lined vocals aren’t totally my thing, they are at least consistent and don’t succumb to the hackneyed old growly/clean tradeoff approach. No, Lanz’s voice preaches discomfort and horror amidst her spiralling riffs. How else are you supposed to make yourself heard over such an onslaught?

Music this astringent demands attentive listening. Confronting its stark beauty head on is the best strategy, one made easier by the album’s approachable length and varying flow. The riffs are electrified barbed wire dragged across the art-damaged realm of post-punk/post-metal heaviness. The first four tracks dish out some stern punishment, with “The Gallwasp” standing out as the best crafted and memorable. The rest of the album branches out from there, with the mostly instrumental “Act II: Bathsheba’s Reply to David” and entirely wordless piece for solo guitar “The Three-Legged Courtesan…” providing some welcome, and sinister, mood shifts. When I stick this disc into my computer at work, it comes up as Unknown album by Unknown artist. Stupid bloody computer. Let's get it straight—it’s The Pilgrimage by Mares of Thrace, and it’s going to end up as one of the best albums of 2012.

A Difficult 2011, 10 to 6

Can I just have done with this? My sick joke of a year-end list drags on.

10. YOB—Atma (Profound Lore)

YOB become more important with each release. By now I think they’ve transcended the “doom” tag and moved alongside Neurosis in the realm of consciousness-raising heavy music. On Atma, YOB don’t really add anything new to their sound, and it' s not like they needed to. Like the last couple Electric Wizard albums, the recording sounds odd, almost off-putting at first, but you’re inevitably pulled into possibly the best collection of YOB songs yet.

9. Anathema—We’re Here Because We’re Here (The End)

This is an absolutely terrifying record, bordering on emotional abuse. It batters me with feelings of hope and loss and mortality couched in 10 almost unendurably beautiful songs. I’m a person who likes to think he’s in control of any given situation in life and work, although the futility of this outlook becomes clearer every year. Still, old habits die hard, and confronting an album like this that screams “YOU’RE WRONG, YOU’RE WRONG, YOU’RE WRONG!” is a profound experience. We’re Here Because We’re Here tears me apart.

It’s significant that the front and back cover depict the horizon—a destination that you can see but can never reach. The songs themselves are about the limits you perceive and the limits that don’t exist. “It ain't about yourself/Get out of yourself” as the chorus demands in “Get Off Get Out.” They lay it on thick—big ballads, strings, female vocals, spoken word passages—but Steven Wilson’s mix places every element just so, streamlining these songs so that they plunge directly into the core of my being. Originally released in 2010 and issued domestically in 2011, I think this is the best Anathema album since Alternative 4. I’m in awe of its power.

8. Ghost—Opus Eponymous (Metal Blade)

Ghost strikes me as a lark that quickly got out of hand. Fenriz puts in a good word and suddenly they’re touring the world and their Nameless Ghoul vocalist is wondering if he’ll be wearing that Satanic Pope hat for the rest of his life. What hath they wrought? Honestly, putting aside the “hype” (what constitutes hype now anyways? A pull-quote off a blog? An ad?), this album caught on because Ghost has amazing material. I think the metal audience is smart enough not to get sucked in by image. No one’s impressed by anyone’s OTT black metal photo shoot. Morbid Angel can plant their feet just over a shoulder’s width apart and frown at us real hard, but we’re still not gonna buy Illud Divinum whatever. So yeah, Ghost had the best tunes and that’s why they’re in the top 10.

Another thing in Ghosts’s favour was that they themselves owned up to it all: "Naysayers will accuse us of being pretentious, which we are, or gimmicky, which we are." That conspiratorial wink I can hear in their music is intentional, apparently, but in the end, who cares? This short, punchy album will be over by the time you're done pondering matters of authenticity, "coolness," etc. Maybe they did actually melt down a bunch of Roky Erickson, Mercyful Fate, and BÖC LPs, have the resulting blob blessed by Satan, then used it to press their own work. Whether by diabolical accident or infernal design, you can hear all these things coming together on Opus Eponymous. The simple arrangements, wonderfully unspectacular recording, and unabashed yet diabolical tunefulness produce a time-warp effect, to the point where I half expect/half hope to be able to search up vintage footage of "Stand By Him" on Top of the Pops, complete with girls swaying awkwardly in their crocheted ponchos and yellow flares.

7. Steven Wilson—Grace for Drowning (K-Scope)

Mr. Wilson had a hand in two other albums in this post, but this one’s his own baby. After finding Porcupine Tree’s Fear of a Blank Planet rather stale and passing on The Incident (I did enjoy Wilson's previous solo album Insurgentes, though), I took a hint from the advance PR for this album and snapped it up at HMV ($10.99 for a double album!) the minute I saw it. What I heard was astounding, starting from the moment “Sectarian” kicked into high gear. It may be the best thing Wilson has ever put out. On this release he lets go of everything and gathers up fresh strands in the form of new musicians, sounds, and song forms. I don’t know what kind of therapy/meditation/substances he embraced before starting this project, but I think I want some. Grace For Drowning’s feeling of creative renewal puts it in the same realm as Opeth’s Heritage for me, although I don’t think Wilson caught as much flak from his fanbase for his good work.

Grace For Drowning is a trip through the darker side of prog that recalls King Crimson prior to their 1974 hiatus. Blasts of Mellotron choir signal imminent doom while saxophones rage in protest. Storms roil, clouds part. The epic songs are really epic, while some of the shorter numbers (“Index” and “Postcard”) are tackled with a simplicity that might elude a Porcupine Tree production. In fact there’s a stripped-down, elemental feel to the whole thing. “Remainder the Black Dog” and “Raider II” are big statements drawn in clear, broad strokes. It’s a sign of the material’s quality that you or I could walk up to a piano and most likely pick out the notes. There’s some jazz, too, adding to the album’s unpredictability and air of mystery. The influence is not as pronounced as others may claim; the jazz enters in some free passages where the sax or flute gets to have a blow, as well as in (brilliant) drummer Theo Travis’s in-the-pocket style. By picking away at the crust of post-everything modernity and revisiting old values in earnest, Steve Wilson’s recorded his most radical work.

6. Opeth—Heritage (Roadrunner)

I'm the guy who still really, really likes Opeth. I’ve never reviewed one of their albums here, mainly because most of the critical dialogue regarding Opeth fills me with rage. Why even contribute? Opeth tends to bring out the worst in both metalheads and prog fans. To the willfully obscurist metal messageboard warrior, Homopet's weak sauce is the perfect cure for insomnia. Girlfriend metal, pretty much. For the archetypal prog fan, he of a certain age and delicate demeanour, Opeth might be listenable if it weren’t for those Cookie Monster vocals. And here's me, caught in the crossfire, thinking, "Yeah, but—" before deciding that nothing's worth wading into either discussion.

But here’s how I feel. As a lifelong metal and progressive rock fan, Opeth have been a gift. I can’t imagine a better band to have followed from their debut album. It was a great day when I first found Orchid in the miscellaneous “O” bin at Sam the Record Man. Their streak of quality releases and their graceful progression from progressive death metal to progressive rock has been amazing. I thought they’d take a left turn much earlier than they actually did. When Still Life, their fourth album, came out, I remember being surprised that they were staying the course, polishing and refining the death/prog mix instead of pursuing one style in earnest. Their last album, Watershed, had some blatantly eccentric moments that signaled an album like Heritage was on the horizon.

It’s an odd record for sure, with a stream of consciousness flow that shucks off most of Opeth’s previous formula, if that’s what you want to call it. There are more songs in more styles, with some new sounds brought in. Listening to the album at Scrape Records on release day, I thought that it sounded like the Änglagård album of Michael Akerfeldt’s dreams, and I still hear a vein of classic Swedish prog deep within. The rocking moments are more isolated, perhaps a little more self-conscious, as with “Slither,” their tribute to Dio-era Rainbow. At the other end of the scale is a song like “Häxprocess,” a drifting, shifting seven-minute fever-dream.

That elusive quality is one of Heritage's best features. It’s not a bunch of long songs with heavy parts alternating with pretty parts. It’s a much more sophisticated mixture, one that unfortunately tasted of shit sandwich to many of their fans, judging by the bitter comments I've read on Facebook and the many, many long faces on display after their show at the Commodore last year. Oh well. Seeing as my one of my favourite heavy metal bands has finally become one of my favourite progressive rock bands, I will not be joining in the backlash.

OSI—Fire Make Thunder (Metal Blade)

Listening to music has become a private affair. Music is shared anonymously and usually consumed alone, spat out of tiny devices directly into our ears. We left the megawatt stereo behind in our parents’ rec-room when we moved out. Now, roommates are trying to sleep; the neighbours and landlord are just on the other side of those walls. Best to keep it down. OSI are a band for this era. Their music is crisp, detailed, and intimate, and it sounds great through my 20-dollar earbuds.

Conceived around the time when a new generation of prog supergroups emerged—guitarist Jim Matheos was originally tipped for Transatlantic before Roine Stolt got involved—OSI have developed their own inimitable style of progressive/ electronic rock over four albums. OSI’s core team is long-distance collaborators Matheos and keyboardist Kevin Moore (ex-Dream Theater, Chroma Key), along with a changing cast of drummers and guests over the years (Porcupine Tree’s Gavin Harrison lays down the beats on Fire Make Thunder).

Like previous OSI records, especially Free, this one slowly gets under the skin. Their approach is cool, yet it lures you in as you acclimatize to it. OSI are a studio creation; they have never played live. The musicians recorded their parts separately, and the end results don’t try to conceal this fact. The production draws attention to itself by design. Rhythmic synth pulses, blips, and st-st-st-stuttering beats mix with hefty, off-kilter riffs from Matheos. While the aesthetic may offend those who cling to the sacred ideal of live performance and the rehearsal-room chemistry of a gigging band, the gentlemen of OSI execute this style with undeniable control and taste. It never tips over into techno tackiness.

The first thing that draws you in is Moore’s voice. His exacting performance lobs melodies into the air that, after many listens, can begin to haunt your day. The other key ingredient is the songs. The OSI sound is flexible enough to encompass some surprising treatments and textures, such as the acoustic guitar-based lament “Indian Curse” and the unabashed prog metal instrumental “Enemy Prayer,” which reveals that three musicians working remotely can bridge the distance and rock out a little. “Big Chief” has a groovy, almost Clutch-like flow. “For Nothing” is as simple and pretty as U2's best work, while possessing a melancholy that only OSI can inhabit. It’s difficult to piece together every detail of the album’s concept, but the theme seems to have to have something to do with the plight of Native Americans. On the album’s best track, “Wind Won’t Howl,” Moore ruefully croons “We were already down before/we were already down on the floor”* as the song soars towards its climax.

Fire Make Thunder’s odd-yet-assured fusion of processed sonics and fragile humanity confirms that not only does OSI own this particular corner of the progressive metal galaxy, but—to borrow a phrase—that all this machinery making modern music can still be open hearted.


*Probably. Ain't got a lyric sheet.

Saturday Chart

1. The Wounded Kings—In the Chapel of the Black Hand (I Hate Records)

2. SubRosa—No Help For the Mighty Ones (Profound Lore)
3. Melvins—The Bull & the Bees (Scion A/V)
4. Wobbler—Rites at Dawn (Termo Records)
5. Billeh Nickerson—Impact: The Titanic Poems (Arsenal Pulp Press) (One of the saddest books you will ever read.)

Ancients w/Burning Ghats, Nylithia, Cathar, and Graves, March 23 at the Rickshaw Theatre

Having recently recorded what's rumoured to be an amazing full-length album at The Hive, Ancients decided to kick off the next big phase of their existence with this show at The Rickshaw. It's a large venue for a local showcase gig, but they drew an impressive crowd—bigger than for many of the touring acts I've seen there.

Graves started the night with some tight, hardcore-infused metal. The quartet looked awfully young up there. I wouldn't say they were breaking any new ground, but they kept it straight-up and unpretentious at least. Courtney Karg led the way with her scathing vocals. A solid opening set!

I last caught East Van sludge grinders Cathar at DIEcember Fest last year at the Biltmore. They were even better this time out. They've got something sick and twisted going on. Movie dialogue samples link their short, blunt songs, and their frontman kind of mumbles to himself during moments when nothing else is happening. Scabrous and hateful, sure, but pretty entertaining as well.

Nylithia shredded the place. I saw them a few years ago at one of my friend Colin's Food 4 Music shows, but I wasn't prepared for the thrashing they laid down this time. As if their insane musicianship wasn't enough of a spectacle, they brought out a giant cardboard "Trainsaw" prop, which proved no match for the crowd, who tore it apart as soon as it was offered to them. One resourceful dude used the detached sawblade to terrorize the pit for a little while.

Burning Ghats were yet another band I was seeing for a second time, and again, their set was pure chaos and ferocity—a storm of flailing guitars, twisting bodies, and feedback. If Southern Lord got on board with Baptists, then they should definitely take a look at Burning Ghats as well. They took the gig to the heights of madness, providing the perfect setting for Ancients to mellow us out (relatively speaking) with some hard-riffing heavy rock.

Ancients are all amazing players and a killer live act. If you're into old-school-meets-new-school metal in the manner of Mastodon and Baroness, you really need to check out Ancients. It's a big stage at the Rickshaw, and they looked awesome up there. It helps that guitar teammates Kenny and Chris play left and right-handed respectively, creating that golden "V" of axe-necks. They sounded great too—the Rickshaw PA had been consistent (and loud) all night. I didn't time their set, but they must have played the better part of an hour...and it whizzed by, with song after quality song where the only criteria seemed to be "Does this part rule? If it does, it's in." I have no doubt this album of theirs is going to rule as well. For the grande finale, they brought out Kyle (Nylithia's vocalist) and Sacrifice bassist Scott Watts for a mighty dash through what might as well be Canada's official HM anthem: Sacrifice's "Reanimation." Respect was given and tribute was paid in spades. Jesse dove off the stage to his apparent death (yet again) and there was no encore demanded or necessary. Nothing could have topped that. Well played, Ancients.

Weekend Chart

1. OSI—Fire Make Thunder
2. Anathema—We're Here Because We're Here (The End)
3. David Gilmour—On an Island (Columbia)
4. Sigh—Hangman's Hymn (The End)
5. Gary Numan—Reinvention

Saturday Chart

This week's chart is a bit late because Saturday was a full day of rock and I couldn't really post a definitive chart before the day was done.

1. Weirding—Each Birth Is a New Disaster

One of my favourite local bands put out this crusher of an album last summer. Download it for the low, low price of $3, or check out "Bastard" at the very least.

2. Christian Mistress—Agony & Opium (20 Buck Spin)
3. Brand Upon the Brain! (Criterion DVD)
4. The Evaporators—"I Hate Being Late When I'm Early" from Busy Doing Nothing

I went to the album release show at Neptoon Records yesterday. It was a madhouse!

5. The React—"The Sounds That I've Heard"

My ex-neighbour Mike's new band is a little more wooly and psychedelic than usual, but seeing as Mike's involved, they're happily stuck in the sixties. We saw their first show last night and they rocked the joint.

A Difficult 2011, 15 to 11

15. Mastodon—The Hunter (Reprise)

Yes, The Hunter saw Mastodon abandon the concept album and present a plain-old collection of songs this time out. It’s the same difference, really. There’s the same ratio of great to good to forgettable songs as on any Mastodon album. Some heard this as selling out, as if that’s really a viable option these days. I listened to some mainstream radio this year, and I didn’t hear anything resembling Mastodon. I will admit that I can only hack CFOX or whatever for 10 minutes before a song based around a Neil Young sample makes me punch the OFF button, but I still think I did enough research to exempt Mastodon from “sell out” status. I love the drum sound and the Scott Kelly cameo. I especially love “The Creature Lives.” The cover would have worked better as one of those 3D postcard-style pictures.

14. White Willow—Terminal Twilight (Laser’s Edge)

A new White Willow album is always a treat—a chance to lose oneself in the swirl of lush analog tones, crazy Moog solos, and Mellotrons. Sometimes there’s too much of a good thing, moments where the production distracts from the song. The moments when the band latches onto a riff are the best, though, as on the closing minute of “Hawks Circle the Mountain.” Jacob Holm-Lupo’s JG Ballard-inspired themes are to the fore, which is logical when you consider Ballard’s work gets less science fictional and closer to reality every year. Yet when these doomy scenarios are given voice by Sylvia Erichsen, the prospect of meteorological disaster or dystopian anarchy sounds downright enticing. “Floor 67” is a favourite track, where lovers contemplate the view from their derelict high-rise: wolves prowl the swimming pool, and “raggedy children” play in abandoned cars. The chipper melody and Erichsen’s voice sound downright cosy, while the band’s stormy passages between verses embody the threats that lurk outside.

13. Obscura—Omnivium (Relapse)

Omnivium is the most polished, professional tech death imaginable, yet it also has real metal spirit coursing through its circuitry. You can hear its roots in Watchtower, Cynic, and Atheist. There are moments of pure comedy: the guitar solo on “Velocity” where the shredding gets so fast that the notes apparently combust into pure electronic bleeping, as if revealing the supercomputer that is actually playing the music; or the funk section in “Vortex Ominivium” where the drummer works up a cool funk beat until he can stand it no longer and just starts blasting. I imagine him in rehearsal: “I couldn’t help it, man!” They’re Metallica-style traditionalists, though, with an acoustic album intro recalling “Battery” or “Fight Fire with Fire” and an instrumental showpiece near the end of the album (the absolutely ripping “A Transcendental Serenade”) and the oddball, change-of-pace track—here, the slow-grinding “Ocean Gateways” is a possible nod to Morbid Angel. Their previous album, Cosmogenesis, was really good, but this one takes it over the top with more melody, more technicality, more everything. And now I probably never need to hear another note of their music so long as I live.

12. Wolves in the Throne Room—Celestial Lineage (Southern Lord)

One of the things that intrigued me upon rediscovering black metal in ’95 was that it had become this beautiful music made by mysterious, evil people. Albums like In the Nightside Eclipse, The Shadowthrone, and Bergtatt incorporated strains of classical and folk music, a fusion that made for some scathingly majestic sounds. But black metal has become a more conservative enterprise over the years. Hardly anyone talks about Emperor anymore. Everything’s set to maximum grimness. I hear Wolves in the Throne Room as part of the '93 to '96 wave of BM in that their music aims for grandeur in its evocation of nature. Celestial Lineage is their most complete album, I think. The long tracks and short interludes include female vocals, chanting, nature sounds, and synthesizers amongst the relentless drum blasts and trebly, tremolo-picked guitars. The emphasis is always on atmosphere and melody, and if that gets them writeups in the mainstream press and dismissed by the troo-est, then so be it. I just think it’s excellent music.

11. PJ Harvey—Let England Shake (Island)

There’s no use saying “this album marks a real departure for PJ Harvey,” because every PJ Harvey album is a departure. That’s precisely why she’s so brilliant. Let England Shake is a modern album with an old soul. A lot of her work has revolved around sex and assorted relationship torment, especially her early albums. Let England Shake also focuses below the belt, but even further down, to the land of a country that still resounds from feet that marched off to war. It may be her most heartwrenching album. Images like “Unburied ghosts hanging in the wire” hit hard. On many songs, she uses the auto-harp, a humble, egalitarian instrument—we had them in elementary school music class—that imposes its own musical rationing scheme and provides a haunting backdrop to her reverb-heavy vocal treatments. What’s consistent between the last few PJ Harvey albums is that there’s not a wasted moment on them—not a filler track, not a vague lyric, no musical repetition. However this music was made—and I have no doubt there was much trial and error, experimentation, and happy accident involved—it comes across as pure intention. It’s high art that cuts to the quick.

Saturday Chart

1. Voivod—To the Death 84 (Alternative Tentacles) which I just reviewed at Hellbound.ca, as it happens.
2. Picnic at Hanging Rock (Criterion)
3. Tangerine Dream—Phaedra (Virgin)
4. Gary Numan—"Are 'Friends' Electric?"
5. Thinking Plague—In This Life (RER)

Saturday Chart

1. Vektor—Outer Isolation (Heavy Artillery Records)
2. Heart—Live on "Second Ending" 1976

3. Pallbearer—Demo 2010
4. Peter Hammill—"People You Were Going To"
5. Black Mountain—"Mary Lou" from the Year Zero Soundtrack

Saturday Chart

To kill some time before the rest of the family gets up, here's a list of what I've been into this week.

1. UFO—The Chrysalis Years (1973–1979)
2. Wolves in the Throne Room—Celestial Lineage

I have two projects that I need to finish, and both conclude with blurbs about Wolves in the Throne Room. At this point, does anyone want to read anything else about Wolves in the Throne Room? I'm not sure I do.

3. Astra—"Quake Meat" (advance track from The Black Chord)
4. Ancients—"Raise the Sun" (unmastered advance track from the new album)
5. Caravan—"Where But For Caravan Would I?"

Not the song in question...

A Difficult 2011, 20 to 16

I've already posted full reviews of each of these albums, so the blurbs are relatively short for this installment.

20. Abriosis—Tattered and Bound

Abriosis are the only other Canadian band to make this list. I had to give them a placing based on their ripping live set and this world-class album. Tattered and Bound is a masterclass in discordant, technical death metal. Old-school, raw metal of death got most of the press in 2011, but I’m always in the market for a few key tech-death albums every year. Abriosis cut through with clarity and precision. Attention, Willowtip!

19. Earth—Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light I (Southern Lord)

For all their sprawl, the last few Earth albums were tightly wound. There was great discipline in their repetition and tempos. It was like watching a tightrope walker; balance and symmetry in action. On Angels of Darkness... they let go of all that and did not fall. The music often just hovers there as Dylan Carlson directs the band with a light touch on the guitar. Get ready for Angels of Darkness II very soon.

18. Led Bib—Bring Your Own (Cuneiform)

I love Led Bib’s brand of raucous, hard-hitting action jazz. It’s exciting to hear saxophones duking it out for supremacy as the rhythm section races away like Prost and Senna side by side, heading into turn one. The dynamics and live power of five crack musicians playing together delivers the kind of jolt that I don’t often get from rock records. I haven’t sampled much of Cuneiform’s jazz roster, but I’m glad I took a chance on Led Bib, first with 2009’s Sensible Shoes and now with this fantastic follow-up.

17. Nicklas Barker—El Ultimo Fin De Semana

The soundtrack album lives on. Nicklas Barker’s main band is Anekdoten, and he brings that band’s melancholy (and Mellotron) to this collection of instrumentals written for a Spanish thriller. Some rock soundtrack albums work well as rock albums, full stop, such as Pink Floyd’s More Soundtrack (appreciated here) or Air’s The Virgin Suicides. Those albums incorporated songs amidst the musical interludes, whereas this one doesn’t. Still, its eerie snippets of music form a nicely sustained mood piece. The opening theme of “Celestial Ghost” will get under your skin immediately.

16. Six Organs of Admittance—Asleep on the Floodplain (Drag City)

Ben Chasny turned in quite an intimate record this time around. Asleep on the Floodplain offers a number of solo guitar performances as well as forlorn ballads and a big, buzzing hypnotic thing (“S/Word and Leviathan”) that's either the product of inspired improvisation or a happy accident in the studio...maybe a bit of both. Chasny's understated virtuosity has never been more evident. I'll always be impressed by his ability to create such vivid pictures with simple elements.

A Difficult 2011, 25 to 21

2011 was an annoying year. Ignorance and pettiness thrived. Stephen Harper and his creepy, Crispin Gloverish grin wouldn't go away—came back stronger and more insipid than ever, in fact. Good people died, friends moved away, living got more expensive. Belligerence abounded: attack the CBC, attack the poor, attack anyone who dares fight to maintain a living wage. As long as we have the oil sands and a resilient real estate bubble, we're all right, Jack. Who needs a plan beyond that?

Musically, I didn’t try very hard to keep up in 2011. I sought out music that would provide more comfort than challenge. I’ve gotten more depressed and baffled by the idea of music as a free commodity. Being a metal fan insulates me from that reality somewhat. Metalheads still talk in terms of albums. Record labels and album art/packaging are still regarded as important. We’re all getting older, though, and these attitudes will get drowned out eventually. I'm bracing myself for the end by getting used to downloading more music. Bandcamp is a great resource for this, making it simple to sample, download, and pay for new music. I'm also trying to downsize the collection by ripping CDs to the computer and storing them away. Going alphabetically, I'm up to "F" and I've still got 800 GB of space left on this baby. I hope to have a few GB left to play with when I'm done. Or maybe my iMac's CD drive will have crapped out before then...

Anyway, here we go. I'll do a top 25 this time (in five installments), which represents the bulk of what I bought this year. There are a few stragglers and neglected items that I may mention once I'm done, if I have any brain left.

25. Gigan—Quasi Hallucinogenic Sonic Landscapes (Willowtip)

We’re in the deep end immediately with this vortex of cosmic tech death. Gigan attack their chosen genre with the barbarity of early Kataklysm and the dissonance of Voivod. Really, these Chicagoans should be honorary Canadians, such is their commitment to weird metal. Revisiting this after a few months, I’m struck by how catchy all the squeaks, screeches, and squalls are. Guitarist/composer Eric Hersemann’s pedal board is like another member of the band, such is its presence in the music—no signal goes unprocessed, it seems. When they played at the Biltmore this summer as part of the Grave tour, I got to stand unimpeded at the front of the stage while they did their thing. A good portion of the crowd, who’d been happily slamming to Pathology earlier, retreated to the bar. Their loss.

24. Barn Owl—Lost in the Glare (Thrill Jockey)

Barn Owl’s emanations are solemn and expansive, often catching that moment when the brightest sunlight casts the darkest shadows. Mysterious devices drone; guitars ring out, feed back, fall apart, and fade away. Although their music has a lot in common with Six Organs of Admittance and Earth, Barn Owl’s take on psychedelic Americana is more loosely structured and flits from mood to mood between tracks more readily. “The Darkest Night Since 1683” is a deep sea of power chords. “Midnight Tide” conjures visions of a distant desert caravan shimmering in the heat haze. Barn Owl sound like they want to be anywhere but here. Don’t we all from time to time?

23. 40 Watt Sun—The Inside Room (Metal Blade)

I had no problem connecting with The Inside Room on an emotional level. Patrick Walker’s voice and lyrics carry a longing that'll resonate with anyone who has squandered love or loved to no avail. The music’s plodding rhythms and sheets of distortion pound the sorrow right through your skin. This didn’t rate higher because I’m just now starting to shake off the impression that this short album is still overlong, and that none of the songs surpass the opening track, “Restless.” I can now hear that the album’s five tracks have some real depth—each has a lyric or chord progression that hits me hard—but I can sympathize with those who didn’t “get” this album. Many labeled it doom, probably because of Walker’s previous band Warning. In 40 Watt Sun’s case, the label is a bit misleading. Doom requires riffs, I think, and there aren’t any here. Instead, 40 Watt Sun fit alongside Jesu with their overamped, crawling melancholy, or (if you can imagine the distortion rolled off almost entirely) even bands like Codeine and Seam. However you want to categorize it, this was a brave debut.

22. Mitochondrion—Parasignosis (Profound Lore)

To outsiders, the Pacific Northwest must look like nothing but sea for sailing, mountains for skiing, and teeming with hip, multicultural urbanites, lululemoned and goretexed from Ugg boots to ponytail (both girls and guys). In reality, this region pulsates with murder, drugs, and a history of religious cults and intolerance. Not everyone came here for the sushi. Many came here with the desire to be left the hell alone to do what they wilt behind a curtain of rain and forest. I know nothing about Mitochondrion as people, but their twisted, murky death metal embodies the hermetic aspect of the Pacific Northwest. It does not budge from the mossy cave it occupies. It doesn’t react well to light, so it’s best just to stand back and experience its awesome rumblings from a safe distance.

21. Zombi—Escape Velocity (Relapse)

Zombi’s work had been getting increasingly symphonic up till Escape Velocity, which saw them retreating a bit, stripping the music down, focusing on rhythm and repetition. I thought it was an interesting diversion into Logan’s Run “Space Disco” territory, where future generations had feathered hair and wore polyester tunics. I was bummed to hear they stopped doing Laser Zeppelin at the Planetarium last weekend; Laser Zombi will never come to pass, I’m afraid.

Hierarchies—Magnitogorsk

I caught local duo Hierarchies at the Biltmore recently, performing a set (to far too few people) coaxed from various guitars, synths, and pedals. If it hadn’t been my first time seeing them, and if I hadn’t needed to get up close to see how they were creating this sound, I’d have laid back on one of the club’s plush benches and shut my eyes to soak it in. To label their music drone/ambient is too easy, and also unfair. Sure, the dynamic in these four tracks isn’t very jagged. I guess it’s droney. There’s no beats, no overt melody. Structure is defined by a track’s running length, or maybe a gradual shift in volume, as on the title track, where an overdriven hum rises over the course of four minutes, like a cluster of howling ghosts, before fading as previously buried spectral sounds swirl into the foreground. I don’t like the “ambient” part of the label, either, because it implies that the music isn’t designed to be listened to closely. Why would anyone spend time recording music that was meant to be ignored? Not these guys, obviously. There’s a lot of nuance and activity below the surface. Each track ripples like a pool of liquid electricity in an abandoned factory. What's most remarkable is how these sounds evoke the natural world while sounding like nothing out of nature. The effect is insistent and disquieting in its own subtle way.

This is called 2012...

As a facebook friend said, "In a hundred years it will be 2112!" I'll have popped my clogs long before everyone's holding the red star proudly high in hand, but I'll be there in spirit.

For 2012 I'm pledging to post more. I was really disappointed with my output here, especially when it came to show reviews. 2011 was a great year for gigs, but you wouldn't know it from the piss-poor 27 posts I wrote. I did manage to contribute a few things to Hellbound.ca, although not enough to enter their coveted (by me) tag cloud. It's been a while since I listed my "playing away" work, so here are my Hellbound reviews for 2011:

• I got to the Hammers of Misfortune show in December before Kyle Harcott did, so I contributed a blurb on opening band Mendozza to round out his excellent review.

• A review of COMM, by The Tangent. I hate the Internet as much as anyone, but this album's theme tested even my tolerance at first. I came to really enjoy the album, though.

• Reviewing an album twice is real hard, but I'm glad I made a second pass through Primordial's Redemption at the Puritan's Hand for Hellbound in November.

• I'd never checked out Polish proggers Riverside before, but after Sean Palmerston gave me the promo of Memories in My Head this summer, I gained a real appreciation for this classy EP.

• I was blown away by the onslaught of local talent at July's Riffs Not Riots show, so much so that I named it as my Metal Event of the Year for Hellbound. Kyle and I teamed up for a review. I think I met Ted Reckoning for the first time at this show. His awesome photographs grace our review.

• Blizaro was one of my favourite discoveries of 2011. Their loopy mix of proto-metal and Goblin inspired this review.

• I'm always eager to add to Hellbound's Vinyl Reviews, and I got an opportunity with Baptists' debut 7-inch. Nice to see the mighty Southern Lord Records snap up a local band.

• Zombi's Escape Velocity was minimal and trance-y, an interesting variation on their sound.

• France's CloverSeeds put out a catchy album that'd appeal to Pineapple Thief or Porcupine Tree fans, but they'd benefit from some lyrical translation help.

I'll start posting A Difficult 2011 very soon. In the meantime, please check out Hellbound's Top 20 Albums of 2011 here, here, here, and (finally) here.

Happy New Year!

He's dead, Jim.

David Gold, RIP

Last Thursday I checked my Twitter feed, same as I do every morning, to see the shocking, unbelievable news that David Gold of Woods of Ypres had been killed in a highway accident in Ontario the previous afternoon. He was 31.

It’s a cruel world. Achieving good things requires struggle and sacrifice. The bad stuff seemingly happens at random, arriving out of nowhere, immune to human intention. It’s sobering to realize that even someone like David couldn’t hold those dark forces back.

David achieved a hell of a lot with Woods of Ypres. Four self-released albums and several self-booked North American tours culminated in a contract with Earache Records. Their new album, Woods V: Grey Skies and Electric Light, was scheduled for a 2012 release. Now, his chance to promote his work and take the band to Europe (where they would have gone down a storm, I’m sure) is all gone, thanks to cruel fate.

I prefer to keep a degree of separation from the people whose work I write about, but that was difficult with David. We met through Unrestrained! magazine. Adrian Bromley was a big fan—I’ll always remember “The Energizer” playing me excerpts from Woods II over the phone, he was so excited about it. We put Woods of Ypres on the cover when Woods III: Deepest Roots and Darkest Blues came out. The issue featured an exceptional email interview with David (who was living in Korea at the time) by Tate Bengtson. Here at Difficult Music, writing about WoY albums was always a pleasure. David’s lyrics, loaded with soul-baring stanzas, Canadian references, and black humour, gave me plenty to ponder.

I introduced myself to David at Adrian’s memorial event in Toronto, which WoY headlined. When Woods tours started extending to the West Coast, we’d always say hi. Even though I’m not the most in-your-face person, he always remembered my name and would eagerly give me the lowdown on current and future Woods activities. He was a super nice guy and a superb spokesman for not just his band, but, as I witnessed at the 2009 Noctis Conference in Calgary, the Canadian music scene in general.

So, on the day of David’s memorial service, I wanted to send my condolences to David’s family and express my sorrow for the loss of such a fine, talented person.