Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Cranky Classic Rock Nerd Bashes Folk Acts Undeservedly
So, owing to sleep depravation (meaning, in my case, that I was averaging less than twelve hours per night), I was in a pretty cranky mood for the weekend's Folk Fest. Accordingly, I'm likely giving short shrift to some pretty talented artists with these selected reviews. It's my sound, man.
Hawksley Workman: Familiar with him only by reputation before hearing his set, everything about this guy irritated me, from his carefully torn jeans to his contrived voal sound to the fact that he was probably the most talented songwriter I'd seen perform live in a long time. Then, just as I was developing a good hate-on for him, he closed with a Paul Simon cover. Fucker.
Feist: Yeah, she's one of Canada's best vocalists. But I'm a Neil Young fan and a Leonard Cohen fan, so it's pretty obvious that vocals aren't my priority, and the more I listen to her the more I realize how little else she has going for her.
Geoff Berner: Familiar with him primarily on account of this (seriously: read it), this is the first time I'd heard any of his songs other than Maginot Line. Falling somewhere between music and comedy without actually qualifying as musical comedy somehow, Geoff Berner is one crazy motherfucker (and also a religious figure, he assures us). I thought his number about the Vancouver Police was trite and too focussed on the cheap laugh, but he's a great entertaininer and a deceptively good accordian player (I assume).
The Waifs: Enjoyable enough, but I'd be lying if I said I could remember a single lyric or a single bit of melody. If I asked you to imagine mostly-female folk quartet, you'd probably imagine the Waifs. Bleah.
Jason Collet: This shithead gives a bad name to all suburban kids who have grown up to reject many of the predominant values of suburbia. He dedicated a song to the families of everybody serving in Afghanistan, which was a nice gesture until he smugly stated that nobody serving in Afghanistan understands the real reason they're there. Nice going, shithead. Also, all of his songs seemed to involve 1. some waiting-related theme, and 2. the main line repeated about fifty times. (Jason: "What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for?" Me (not quite as loud as I would have said it if I wasn't such a pussy): "For you to shut up!"). In conclusion: shithead.
Paul Kelly: Advance billings called him Australia's answer to Leonard Cohen, and compared him to Bruce Springsteen. As divergent as these references were, they managed both to be misleading. In his melodic simplicity and starkly political lyrics, he resembled nothing so much as a down under Pete Seeger, one song in particular - a catchy little ditty entitled "From Little Things, Big Things Grow" - reminding me of Seeger's latter works (for those who have heard the Smithsonian Folkaways collection of Seeger, think "We'll All Be a Doubling"). Thumbs up.
Bruce Cockburn: (Pronounced, for the benefit of the uninitiated, "Co-burn") One of the few artists I was excited about seeing in advance, his rendition of "If I Had a Rocket Launcher" provided a welcome respite to the peacenik pablum so predominant in the other performances (and I say this as something of a peacenik, and as one who despised the song the first time I heard it, on the same Air Canada flight that introduced me to "Like a Hurricane"). His other performances, alas, didn't quite measure up - but he is a much better guitarist than he's generally given credit for being.
Sarah Harmer: In advance of the weekend, I had vaguely positive feelings towards her - nice voice, I think I heard her on a Great Big Sea live album once, I hear she cut her first album as a Christmas gift to her parents or something, etc. Unfortunately, her songs were universally schlocky, and she was at her best when harmonizing with Cockburn on the latter's "Waiting for a Miracle". She also had a strange habit of nodding sagely at everything anybody else played, which reached its most ludicrous as she nodded in apparent agreement with Cockburn's "Rocket Launcher" *immediately* after singing a song called, I believe, "Peace = Good". Wacky.
There were other performances, but I slept through most of them.
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So, owing to sleep depravation (meaning, in my case, that I was averaging less than twelve hours per night), I was in a pretty cranky mood for the weekend's Folk Fest. Accordingly, I'm likely giving short shrift to some pretty talented artists with these selected reviews. It's my sound, man.
Hawksley Workman: Familiar with him only by reputation before hearing his set, everything about this guy irritated me, from his carefully torn jeans to his contrived voal sound to the fact that he was probably the most talented songwriter I'd seen perform live in a long time. Then, just as I was developing a good hate-on for him, he closed with a Paul Simon cover. Fucker.
Feist: Yeah, she's one of Canada's best vocalists. But I'm a Neil Young fan and a Leonard Cohen fan, so it's pretty obvious that vocals aren't my priority, and the more I listen to her the more I realize how little else she has going for her.
Geoff Berner: Familiar with him primarily on account of this (seriously: read it), this is the first time I'd heard any of his songs other than Maginot Line. Falling somewhere between music and comedy without actually qualifying as musical comedy somehow, Geoff Berner is one crazy motherfucker (and also a religious figure, he assures us). I thought his number about the Vancouver Police was trite and too focussed on the cheap laugh, but he's a great entertaininer and a deceptively good accordian player (I assume).
The Waifs: Enjoyable enough, but I'd be lying if I said I could remember a single lyric or a single bit of melody. If I asked you to imagine mostly-female folk quartet, you'd probably imagine the Waifs. Bleah.
Jason Collet: This shithead gives a bad name to all suburban kids who have grown up to reject many of the predominant values of suburbia. He dedicated a song to the families of everybody serving in Afghanistan, which was a nice gesture until he smugly stated that nobody serving in Afghanistan understands the real reason they're there. Nice going, shithead. Also, all of his songs seemed to involve 1. some waiting-related theme, and 2. the main line repeated about fifty times. (Jason: "What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for?" Me (not quite as loud as I would have said it if I wasn't such a pussy): "For you to shut up!"). In conclusion: shithead.
Paul Kelly: Advance billings called him Australia's answer to Leonard Cohen, and compared him to Bruce Springsteen. As divergent as these references were, they managed both to be misleading. In his melodic simplicity and starkly political lyrics, he resembled nothing so much as a down under Pete Seeger, one song in particular - a catchy little ditty entitled "From Little Things, Big Things Grow" - reminding me of Seeger's latter works (for those who have heard the Smithsonian Folkaways collection of Seeger, think "We'll All Be a Doubling"). Thumbs up.
Bruce Cockburn: (Pronounced, for the benefit of the uninitiated, "Co-burn") One of the few artists I was excited about seeing in advance, his rendition of "If I Had a Rocket Launcher" provided a welcome respite to the peacenik pablum so predominant in the other performances (and I say this as something of a peacenik, and as one who despised the song the first time I heard it, on the same Air Canada flight that introduced me to "Like a Hurricane"). His other performances, alas, didn't quite measure up - but he is a much better guitarist than he's generally given credit for being.
Sarah Harmer: In advance of the weekend, I had vaguely positive feelings towards her - nice voice, I think I heard her on a Great Big Sea live album once, I hear she cut her first album as a Christmas gift to her parents or something, etc. Unfortunately, her songs were universally schlocky, and she was at her best when harmonizing with Cockburn on the latter's "Waiting for a Miracle". She also had a strange habit of nodding sagely at everything anybody else played, which reached its most ludicrous as she nodded in apparent agreement with Cockburn's "Rocket Launcher" *immediately* after singing a song called, I believe, "Peace = Good". Wacky.
There were other performances, but I slept through most of them.
