From the 90's into the 00's, there was no harder working band in Alberta than Painting Daisies. Helmed by co-frontwomen Rachelle Van Zanten and Daisy Blue Groff, P.D. evolved from an acoustic folk duo to a four-woman juggernaut that toured seemingly non-stop, purveying passionate prairie rock across Canada, the US, and Europe before disbanding in 2005. While Van Zanten went on to release two critically acclaimed solo albums in 2006 and 2009, Blue Groff has kept a lower profile, taking time to settle into the Vancouver music scene before entering the studio to record her debut solo release, Sparrow In A Cyclone.
Ably supported by producer/engineer Joby Baker's (Alex Cuba, Cowboy Junkies) slick production, elastic bass and chunky drums, Blue Groff's voice and guitar swing effortlessly from sultry to edgy with the confidence of a seasoned performer. From the swirling electro-tinged opener Forever, Slowly and the sinuous seduction of Electric Love Song(for LA), to full-on rockers like Give Up The Ghost and Gunslinger, Sparrow possesses an engaging swagger neatly balanced by the intimate warmth of songs like Full Heart, Shrug It Off and the stripped-down voice/guitar/strings of Queen of Chain. Clocking in at less than 30 minutes, Sparrow is a compact and charming calling card that will hopefully bring some attention to Blue Groff's skill with pen, voice, and guitar.
Daisy Blue Groff can be found at CBC Radio 3 (where you can also listen to four songs from the album), in the book of faces, and on Twitter.
Kyle Armstrong is a difficult man to find. The full-time dad and as-much-time-as-he-can-find filmmaker has been quietly pursuing his craft for several years, working his way up from Super 8 to digital video and his recent shorts have garnered critical acclaim appearing the travelling Alberta film series Prairie Tales, and the FAVA Freshworks series, but his preference to keep his work in its original format has meant he's kept a fairly low profile.
Recently Armstrong composed a video to accompany Edmonton sound artist Mark Templeton's Scotch Heart cassette. The video found it's way to music blog Altered Zones and from there to its parent site, Pitchfork. Armstrong alternates treated footage of people and faces with surreal splashes of warm lava-lamp , abstract washes of colour, and palate-cleansing cuts to black to create a meditative piece that perfectly complements the hypnotic melodic abstraction of Templeton's score. Here's hoping more of his work gets a wider chance to be seen. In the meantime, grab a cup of tea, put on some headphones, pop it out to full screen, and enjoy.
If you'd like to learn a bit more about Armstrong, check out his recent interview with Vue Weekly here. He has one other video in the wilds of cyberspace - a promotional video he shot and edited for Edmonton/Vancouver musician Darren Frank:
In her upcoming book, Monoculture: How One Story Is Changing Everything, our very own FS Michaels discusses how economic thought has infiltrated the world of art. She quotes Stephen Weil, a leading commentator on museums:
If a million people a month would pay three dollars to see, for example, a Matisse exhibition, we would not need financial support. And if we deliberately set out to find out what a million people a month would pay three dollars to see, then we would not be museums anymore – we would be Disneyland.
Michaels points out that in a world where artists are seen as entrepreneurs, art is no longer about offering challenge or critique, but regurgitating what people want to see or hear. After all, as the eternal maxim of business states, the customer is always right. And after years of this being trumpeted as truth, the public has come to believe it and to dare to challenge their taste is to invite revolt.
Case in point is the the backlash against Arcade Fire's recent Grammy Award for Best Album. Who Is Arcade Fire??!!? has collected some of the hyperbolic vitriol directed at the judges for daring to momentarily consider something other than popularity as the chief mark of artistic validity. While I freely admit to being amused by Unhappy Hipsters, and not connecting with a fair number of the albums on Pitchfork's Top 50 albums of 2010, I find myself both chuckling and taken aback at this strange mix of claimed populism, anti-hipsterism, and disbelief that anything could be good without mass market validation. It's an entertaining and troubling glimpse into some modern attitudes about art, and how personally some people take it when they are denied affirmation of their taste in consumption. Apparently there are plenty who prefer mouse-ears over Matisse.
From KR Wolfe: FS Michaels is one of our very own Hedgies. If you'd like to get first dibs on the upcoming Monoculture website, conversations, and book, you can leave a "Let me know" in the comments and we'll notify you when she flips the "On!" switch. It's a really good book.
There are actors and actresses who do not need to speak a single word to convey meaning and emotion. As masters of their craft, a raised eyebrow, shifting of balance, or gesture of the hand speaks volumes and such is the animation of Sylvain Chomet.
Chomet first rose to prominence with his 2003 film, Les Triplettes De Belleville, a highly stylized, comic period piece acclaimed for it's eye-catching, traditionally styled animation, quirky characters, and lively musical score. The film contains almost no actual dialogue, and the genius of Chomet is that it is hardly even missed. Through the use of facial expressions and overblown gestures, Chomet creates a sort of animated mime that speaks far more than words ever could - a technique that serves him particularly well in his second full-length film, L'Illusionniste.
Based on a script by Jacques Tati, a French comic actor and director who himself began as a mime, L'Illusionniste tells the story of a travelling magician in the dying days of vaudeville-style theatre. The magician (based on Tati himself), carries about him an air of dignity and quiet resignation as he moves from town to town performing for dwindling crowds. A scene where he repeatedly goes through a complex series of preparations in anticipation of stepping on stage only to be rebuffed by a young rock band's repeated encores offers a quiet sense of pathos and the world moving on. After taking an engagement in a remote Scottish village, he meets a young girl who he delights with a few of his tricks. They form a connection which leads them to Edinburgh where they both attempt to build new lives as surrogate father and daughter.
The colours and style are more muted than the exuberance of Triplettes, as befits the more somber story, but Chomet's sense of wonder, conveyed through the exquisite detail of Edinburgh's streets, the Scottish countryside, and even the dingy theatre backstages, still shines through even as his playfulness is evidenced in characters like his three tumbling brothers, the magician's surly rabbit, and a cameo from Triplettes' buck-toothed, mouse-like mechanic. The sedate pace and subdued mood create an atmosphere where the merest of movements and smallest of gestures convey great meaning and a bowl of soup can stop a suicide and a gift of new pair of shoes begins the transformation of two lives.
With it's recent Oscar nomination, L'Illusionniste has been seeing some wider distribution, and I highly recommend catching it on the big screen if you can. It's traditional, hand-drawn animation and quiet beauty are a refreshing respite from the flash-bang of 3D digital images and well worth the investment of your time.
I was amused to click through @girlinthehedge's tweet this morning:
Robots are getting their own internet. Because hey, robots are people too. http://ow.ly/3Tfre
It turns out that European scientists are working on a system to allow robots to communicate with each other and share knowledge they gain from interacting with the world. The BBC News reports:
RoboEarth will be a communication system and a database, [researcher Dr Markus Waibel] said.
In the database will be maps of places that robots work, descriptions of objects they encounter and instructions for how to complete distinct actions.
The human equivalent would be Wikipedia, said Dr Waibel.
"Wikipedia is something that humans use to share knowledge, that everyone can edit, contribute knowledge to and access," he said. "Something like that does not exist for robots."
If you ever attended a wedding in the 1980's, I guarantee you know this song. Though originally written by a Swiss accordionist in the 1950's, "The Bird Dance" (aka "The Chicken Dance") was resurrected by dance-hall band, The Emeralds (who just happen to be from my hometown) in the late 1970's and became a ubiquitous staple of weddings, parties, and elementary school music classes (at least in my neck of the woods). It's been enduring enough to spawn a Chicken Dance Elmo, so maybe the kids are even still doing it today.
For your enjoyment, here's an incredibly awkward performance of it on The Lawrence Welk Show. Of particular note is the increasingly off-time clapping as the song progresses. Is it bad dubbing or a spectacularly poor collective sense of rhythm? You be the judge.
I first met Joe Gurba - aka The Joe - around 6 years ago as a fresh-faced kid with a streak of geek and a love of hip-hop music. Back then he was pushing his rough, but engaging debut album and performing for church youth groups. Since that time, Joe has transformed himself into a sharp slinger of intricate, and sometimes surreal wordplay, an indie music warrior, and a tireless champion of fellow artists. To get there Joe went subversive, working the indie rock scene from the bottom up. He played every show he could find with whatever bands would share the stage. He began promoting shows as Robot Human and joined with friends to found the Old Ugly Recording Co. whose roster includes rising local indie acts like Mitchmatic, Doug Hoyer, and Kumon Plaza.
Between 2006 and 2008, Joe wrote and recorded Float or Flail, a slick collection of electro-beats, crisp bleeps and bloops, and creamy synth washes that perfectly match his seemingly endless poetic energy. Sadly, the album was shelved until Joe could raise the necessary funds to free the master recordings. Three years later he's succeeded and his labour of love is finally seeing the light of day. Joe has expressed some mild embarrassment about releasing the album so late as he feels that he's grown beyond it as an artist and a person, but there's nothing to be ashamed of here. From rapid-fire fun jams like "Spaceman", "What Not", or "On My Right Shoulder", to the contemplative spoken-word flow of "Sorry If It Singed You", Joe's lyrical prowess is indisputable. He displays a complete mastery of vocabulary which he pours into a frenetic torrent of truly unique metaphor, simile, and pop-reference. Equal parts party and genuine poetry, Float or Flail is entertainment that both feeds your mind and bobs your head andJoe has made it's 15 tracks available to the world for a mere $7.50. I heartily encourage you to check it out.
The making of things can be a tricky business, particularly in the arts. Birthing a vision relies on a myriad of tiny steps which, when executed correctly, add up to a glorious whole. Support must be rallied, resources put in place, collaborators found, experts hired, and schedules arranged. It's a careful dance between chaos and order that can lead to great things, but when fate sticks out it's foot and trips up momentum, it can bring the whole works to a shuddering halt.
In September of 2000, acclaimed director Terry Gilliam (Brazil, 12 Monkeys, Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas) was ready to begin filming his long-dreamed adaptation of Don Quixote. The actors were hired, the sets prepared, the costumes sewn, the storyboards drawn, and independent financing was fully secured. Along for the ride were documentary film-makers Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe, chronicling both the giddy anticipation as pieces fall into place, and the careful dance of negotiating the obstacles that arise. The excitement, however, quickly gives way to a mounting despair as a flash flood wipes out equipment and sets, the lead actor falls seriously ill, and the ensuing delays threaten to derail the film completely. Fulton and Pepe are there for it all, capturing the footage they eventually assembled into Lost In La Mancha- a film they came to call a documentary of the "unmaking of" a film.
What do you get when you mix Clarence Carter's "Back Door Santa", a black Santa, one creepy looking elf, and a heaping helping of old-school rap? You get Run DMC's 1987 Christmas classic, "Christmas In Hollis." The staccato shout and dead straight rhyme schemes of early rap never fail to make me nostalgic, remembering how it cool and exotic it seemed to an uptight, Christian kid in the suburbs. And since Christmas is all about nostalgia, this a perfect holiday song for me. Rev Run spoke to AllHipHop.com about writing the song:
If you're an indie music fan, the fine folks at The Line Of Best Fit have an early Christmas present for you - the second edition of their Ho! Ho! Ho! Canada Christmas compilation. The first Cd, (Not So) Silent Night features an upbeat mix of country, rock, and pop celebrating everything from snow to picture books to a Christmas Eve spent in the drunk tank, performed by groups like the Paper Lions, By Divine Right, Ox, and Great Lake Swimmers. The second disc, FrozenOutside/Warm In is a more meditative acoustic collection featuring Basia Bulat, woodpigeon, In-Flight Safety, Snailhouse, and The Provincial Archive. Both are available for free download and guaranteed to make a fine background for eggnog swilling, present wrapping, and general holiday cheer. Help yourself and have an indie little Christmas.
In October 2009, Grammy Award-nominated singer-songwriter Sam Phillips announced the formation of her Long Play subscription service. For $52, over the course of a year, fans of her music would receive 5 digital EP's, one digital full-length release, and occasional bonus downloads. Amongst the EP's was last December's Cold Dark Night, a slightly dark collection of four traditional Christmas carols and two originals: the title track, and "It Doesn't Feel Like Christmas." While, in my humble opinion, Sam's voice is worth the price of admission all on it's own, the quality of the songs and recordings make it well worthy of the dollar-a-week she's seen fit to charge. Check out "It Doesn't Feel Like Christmas" above, or the promo for Cold Dark Night here, and consider giving yourself a little Christmas present from Sam. After December, it'll be gone...
Classic 90's folk-pop band Toad The Wet Sprocket is also offering a free download of their cover of Sam's song. It's their first group recording in 10 years, and they're still sounding strong.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011 at 4:35PM 
