Music Waste 2008
Jesus fucking CHRIST!!! This city is a veritable loot-bag of musical talent, and it becomes more apparent to me every time I get my ass out to see some live music that there's much more going on under my nose than I thou...
Six Degrees of Separation: A New Generation of Canadian Artists
Curated by Noah Becker
Claire Oliver Gallery
513 West 26th Street
New York, NY 10001
October 14 through November 13, 2010
Over the course of the last decade, the glob...
When the band hit the stage I had to catch my breath. The resemblance between Pete Bowman and Jim Morrison is rather scary. It isn’t only visual, but vocal! You could really believe you were at a Doors gig. Bowman is a rare performer, he ...
White Lung/Crystal Antlers/Fucked Up @ Richard’s on Richards September 7th 2008
The sparse crowd was bewitched by the androgynous shrieking of White Lung’s Mish. As our ears would testify, there may have been no sound check and we we...
The Cobalt
Feb 29th, 2008
If Vancouver were a jungle and we were all chimps, Todd Serious and Chris Rebel would have their own separate little bands. Chris’ pack would be more violent and smaller, and would conduct raids into Todd’s...
Perhaps more so than any other artist of his generation, Beck is a master of mutation, reinventing himself with each tour and album. Recent Beck tours have featured lavish, gimmicky stage shows, including life-size marionettes and kitchen t...
Thursday, November 13 at Honey Lounge
The crystal chandeliers and velvet couches of Honey Lounge are the perfect backdrop for an eclectic band like Vonnegut Dollhouse. Formed two years ago by keyboardist James Ford and vocalist/guitar...
Fri Jun 20th, 2008
I played an acoustic show with Rich last summer at Hoko’s on an invitation from Ryan of Collapsing Opposites. Rich was touring on his bicycle from his hometown of Halifax to raise money for the Childhood Cancer Founda...
Grade 4/5 students attending McKenzie Elementary produce poems and pictures for Swan Creek bridge
Royal Unicorn Cabaret
April 25th, 2008
A pointless evening, overall; I came for Black Betty – Black Betty did not come! Ana was sick. They were replaced by the comparable, admirable Hezzakya, with huge double-stacks of amps-amps-amps ...
I’ve heard from numerous sources that the dance floor at the Commodore is supported by a layer of tennis balls, but I’ve never had cause to believe it until TV on the Radio unknowingly put this hearsay to the test. During a visceral tak...