NLG is Naïve

We at NLG like the Talking Heads… a lot. That’s why we are overjoyed that their music has been popping up in the most unexpected places lately. First, there was the Talking Heads Dance Party at Logan’s Pub, where local act Elephant Island had the audience doing their best David Byrne body-jolts, and which also threatened to draw the attention of the fire marshal who feared we might actually burn down the house. Then, a late night romp in Fan-Tan Alley came to an immaculate climax as “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” erupted from the DJ tables. And not one full day later, the very same song caressed the cochlea of Serge as he indulged in the finest mint juleps at a local hotspot. To whoever is responsible for the recent resurgence of Head, we tip our hats to you. This is where we want to be.

Without further ado, here’s the greatest song ever recorded.
Ps- NLG is also a major supporter of the use of parentheses in song titles.

Talking Heads - This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)

NLG gets a Goolden shower of music

On Tuesday, NLG went to the Alix Goolden Hall to be elevated to another level by Arts and Crafts recording artists, The Hidden Cameras. The setting was a “church”; a strange enough setting considering one of the opening bands played Eastern Bloc gypsy music, and the Hidden Cameras’ choir were garbed in what appeared to be Ku Klux Klan attire. However, the setting couldn’t have been a more fitting venue, because the experience was ethereal.

Right from the start, the show was incredibly visual. The first band, 15-piece Bucan Bucan, promenaded the theatre dressed like 1920’s Hungarians with all sorts of brass and wind, and were followed by the band Meatdraw who appeared to be triplets. Apart from being pretty talented (he once led the whole Bucan Bucan army with a beat) Meatdraw’s drummer looked like the Queen from Alice in Wonderland, playing croquet with drumsticks in slow-motion--so much fun to watch. They were followed by the group Gentleman Reg, whom I honestly thought were upstaged by the raw energy of the previous acts.

NLG made use of the intermission before Hidden Cameras to down a black can in Victoria’s favourite alleyway, and from the moment we stepped back inside the building until the show ended two hours later, we didn’t stop dancing. We couldn’t. The music was more infectious than the swine flu—which I think I got from going to bed with wet hair (thanks a lot). Normally a 9-piece band, the Hidden Cameras probably had more than 40 people on the stage at some points, with nearly everyone from the opening bands, a choir of randomly selected Victorians, hell even NLG's own Serge and Ellie Vator made it on stage to double on the tambourine. Led by curiously charismatic frontman Joel Gibb, the Cameras were horns, violin, bass, keys, drums, and wind chimes. They had harmonies that would make Brian Wilson smile, beats and chants that made me want to buy a one-way ticket to Paul Simon’s Graceland, and 60’s rhythms that had us doing the Cavern Stomp, Watusi, and the Mashed Potato. It was like being at a performance by a bunch of your friends: the crowd was in the band, and the band was in the crowd. There was 200% crowd participation, and the band was the most humble and welcoming I have seen. The climax of the show, which featured the last tracks off their latest album, Origin:Orphan, left the crowd with just enough breath to shake the piety out of the building with chants and stomps asking for “one more”. When the Cameras returned, it was another wild, sexy, exuberant display of musical salaciousness that enveloped the crowd in a wave of jubilation. After the show, I’ve never seen such comradery between the attendees as well as the band members. High fives and sweating faces abound, it was like we had been through a war together. Joel Gibb even gave NLG an exclusive ‘no look gun’. “Blog it up” we will!



The Hidden Cameras - Do I Belong?
The Hidden Cameras - Underage

Serge and Mom spare some change

Braving the wind, rain, and the foul BC Ferries’ food to get to Vancouver, NLG’s latest musical outing was to see the Playing For Change band. For the ill-informed, Playing For Change is the brainchild of a sound engineer called Mark Johnson who, after seeing a moving performance by a talented street musician in Atlanta, went around the world asking various street artists to collaborate on music, on such immortal songs as “Stand By Me” and “One Love”. Ingenious editing originally brought the music together in the form of videos; now we have the privilege of seeing some of the musicians collaborate live as the Playing For Change band.

Street musicians they are, however these are not just a bunch of homeless buskers. This is a (afrocentric) United Nations of perversely-talented musicians who made Serge feel like he died and went to musical heaven, and was now witnessing their last performance before the Armageddon. Naturally, NLG was front row, and close enough to feel the blasts from Clarence Bekker and Titi Tsira’s colossal vocals and get damp feet from the rivers of sweat pouring from the band’s euphonious bones. The three hours of non stop music covered African soul shakers, a cover of Don’t Worry that induced a dance battle between Titi and Mermans Kenkosenki that threatened to reverse the earth’s rotation, and an insane jam-cover of Billie Jean that involved a solo performance by each of the ten musicians including Grandpa Elliot bustin’ some dance moves with his harmonica. Voodoo brought Don’t Worry back near the end of the show with a gender battle of chanting led by Titi’s pure and true chords, which started from a shocking acapella rendition of Linda Perry’s “What’s Up” by Clarence Bekker. The music, the message, and the love present at the Commodore that night served up what was described by Serge’s mother as “the most positive musical experience”. Well said, Mom.

NLG Goes Back in Time

The year is 1982 and today's electronic acts are no more than a bulge in their daddy's acid wash jeans. Neil Young, being the prolific social activist he is, decides to turn his attention to the ever prevalent "computer age" which is sweeping through the nation. Bear in mind that a computer circa 1982 resembles a wood-paneled TV with a typewriter super-glued to the front (seen here). This was enough, however, to catch Young's attention. So, what does he do? He releases a mind numbing, seizure inducing, electrosexual masterpiece that we at NLG consider to be a thrusting factor in the birth of modern electro music (which is fitting since the boys from Chromeo may very well have been conceived to this album).

Young's album, entitled "Trans", is an amalgamation of rock 'n roll, dance, and Pac-Man, that could easily slide into rotation beside any modern electro album in your collection. Besides being a techtastic groove piece, the album also manages to touch on society's growing dependence on technology. Track titles like "Computer Age" and "We R in Control" exemplify the shift from computers being used solely by researchers at UC Berkley to calculate the decimal expansion of pi, to ubiquitous forces that dictate our every move. But, when I listen to the album, all I hear is "get roonied and party 'til you're comatose".

We leave you with two tracks off of Trans: The 8 minute epic, "Sample and Hold", and our personal favourite, "Computer Age", complete with synthesizer, something called a "vocoder", and a mid-song breakdown a la Pachelbel.


Neil Young - Computer Age
Neil Young - Sample and Hold

NLG likes Arts and Crafts

Since we’re so hyped on the crafty indie music label Arts and Crafts, and also as a jab at the botched TD money lounge concert at UVic, I thought I’d put down a track from The Stills apocalyptic-themed album Oceans Will Rise. If you don’t want to get too depressed don’t listen to the lyrics or read the song names (Snow in California; Snakecharming the Masses; Panic; Dinosaurs—wonder if it would sync to Fantasia??). I tried to pick the most upbeat song because, as we all know, the world can look pretty grim after a couple nights of getting blackout.

By the way, for an interesting and inadvertently funny discussion on the genuinity of the show Mantracker, see this page: Everydayweekender.com/mantracker. Make sure you check out the comments, notably comment #4 for an idea how they get around the camera problem.


The Stills - Don't Talk Down

Serge goes to Champion

We were surprised that the liquor store was even open, the day being a Sunday and the time 10pm. But when we went inside and found out that there were no black cans left, we were devastated. “How else are we gonna get so roonied that we’ll have to be scraped off the floor tonight?” we asked ourselves. And then, as if God was answering our prayers and restocking the shelf himself, a hand appeared from nowhere and placed 4 tall black cans in a row above the word “FAXE”. They were even cold. We looked at each other and knew it would be a good night.

Champion and his G-strings are the most French Canadian looking people I have ever seen. Long hair, scruffy, uncouth. Champion, or Maxine Morin, is the conductor, not only a maestro but a train conductor of a cavalcade of musical explosiveness that leaves you numb. While jumping around adjusting the drums and bass he fires a selected “G-string” a no look gun (no joke he was firing NLG’s all night) and detonates a blistering, threatening eruption of guitar shredding. Champion knows how to work the crowd and uses this knowledge to induce head-splitting convulsions by stopping and starting the tunes on a dime. True maestro style. Vocals were provided by another scruffy frenchie, Pilou Cote, who almost stole the show with glorious strains that reminds of Beast. Me and Tab Asco finished our night by doubling home on my bike, and had so many near deaths that I’m surprised we’re not being scraped off the road right now. What a success!

Here is a track from Champion's latest album, Resistance, and his first, Chill 'em all
Champion - Alive Again
Champion - No Heaven
Beast - Fingerprints