LIVE WIRE: He's in love with his pills.

(Matt Good never believed in UFOs until his Thursday night show at Vancouver's Orpheum Theatre. It's amazing what a single probe can do to some people. © 2008 Benjamin Luk.)

There were times when I was watching Matt Good perform last Thursday night at The Orpheum that I found myself wondering just how medicated the poor guy actually is. Not that his stage presence wasn’t as magnetic as always, and not that his musical talents were in any way lacking, but it just took so long for anything he sang off Hospital Music, his most recent and most personal album to date, to feel as though it were happening to him and not some other poor schmo. I mean, for a guy who found out that his wife was cheating on him, lost his unborn daughter, and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder all in the space of just over a year, you’d think watching the man perform songs about that horrid time of his life would make you want to whip out your lighters in tribute, put a plastic bag over your head and inhale deeply. Thanks to his meds though (and likely because this is nearing the end of his current tour and he’s already performed these songs over and over again for months on end), much of what he performed from Hospital Music didn’t have quite the same impact as when he played his acoustic show at The Centre last September, when his emotional wounds were still fresh.

Now, if you know anything about Matt Good, you’d know that his music is very lyrically based, as though some clinically depressed political activist transcribed his entire journal (or blog, I guess, in this day and age) into verse and put it to our epic North American trademark alt rock. Thus, Matt Good has his lovers and haters, because his music demands a certain level of emotional involvement that not everybody is willing to give. The audience at his show was a smattering of Vancouverite clichés, ranging from the hot Asian hipster chick trying not to cry during “Weapon”, to the permafried-into-indifference dude in the Joe Montana jersey smoking a doob in Row 15 during “Load Me Up”. I’m not the type to tear up, so the first half of his show (which opened on the 10-minute-long “Champions of Nothing”) dragged a bit for me, but you can’t fault the guy’s lyrical prowess. Using Hollywood Indians, snow, mountains and fountains as metaphors for nostalgia and days gone past, his audience paid attention to his poetry in ways that would have made any grade school English teacher go postal with jealousy.

But then, just when I figured “Born Losers” was the highlight of a semi-intimate attempt at an emotionally heavy show, Good suddenly whipped out his repertoire from albums past, finally making full use of his new band. (Oh yeah, he has a new band that he’s touring with. Did I forget to mention that?) Starting with “Avalanche” and slowly building towards brilliantly layered performances of “Black Helicopter” and “Apparitions”, I was back in 2004 again, discovering Matt Good for the first time while sneaking my first underage beer. And then, the encores! Two encores! In total, the encores lasted nearly as long as the show itself. And the encores were what I was waiting for, with Matt Good finally breaking out from being a sad ol’ sack of shit and finally rocking out to tunes like “Giant” and “Hello Time Bomb” in a fashion that would have made Brad Delp, if not proud, then at least nod in approval. Closing on “Everything Is Automatic” (to which I loudly sang along with) and “She’s In It For The Money”, it finally felt real again. And I really, sincerely hope that despite his lyrics, Matt Good won’t be so in love with his pills that he’ll try to get rid of himself the same way Delp did. The music world would miss him too much.

Matt, if you’re reading this someday, best of luck. I’ll shine a light down on you any night. (Furthermore, you need a better drummer. Coincidentally, I fucking rock on skins.)

Matt Good's Vancouver Set List:

• Champions of Nothing
• A Single Explosion
• Odette
• Born Losers
• The Devil's In Your Details
• Avalanche
• Load Me Up
• Put Out Your Lights
• Blue Skies Over Bad Lands
• Black Helicopter
• I'm A Window
• 99% Of Us Is Failure
• Apparitions
• Weapon
• Giant*
• Hello Time Bomb*
• Everything Is Automatic*
• She's In It For The Money*
• Alert Status Red*
• Girl In The War* (Josh Ritter cover)

* Songs marked with an asterisk were played during the encore(s).

This article will appear in an upcoming issue of The Other Press. Special thanks to Luke Simcoe, A&E editor, for both picking up the article and allowing it to run on ThatRockBlog.com without my having to deal with all that exclusivity bullshit.

Also, special thanks to Pete Clyde of Live Nation and Shannon Mackay, resident Matt Good expert.

OFF THE RECORD: Coldplay - Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends

(Courtesy of Capitol Records.)

Excellent. Coldplay have decided to care about their music again.

You see, last time around, the band knew they were expected to come through with a massive commercial breakthrough. Hell, EMI’s market share fell sharply after it was announced that Coldplay had postponed the release of X&Y. And while they did sell ten million albums or so, by issuing an album that was heavy on radio-friendly anthems and light on any meaningful music or lyrics, Coldplay ran the risk of being written off artistically for the rest of their career.

So in comes Brian Eno, the famed producer behind critically feted albums like Talking Heads’ Remain in Light and U2’s Achtung Baby, and with him, vague rip-offs of celebrated bands like Radiohead (“42” sounds like each member of Coldplay took his favourite bit from In Rainbows and stuffed it into one multi-sectioned song), Arcade Fire (check the woah-oh-oh-oh-ohs at the end of “Viva la Vida”), and My Bloody Valentine (the guitars on “Chinese Sleep Chant” practically scream shoegaze). Then, in come a ridiculously unwieldy album title and revolutionary album cover. If you need further evidence that Coldplay are begging for you to take them seriously again, you can probably Google up a recent press interview where they explain their decision to cut the vocals from the album’s opening track “Life in Technicolor”, because the record company said it was the obvious first single.

Still, I have to give credit where credit is due. It’s a ballsy move in this day of diminishing attention spans to not only start your album with an instrumental, but to place all your best songs at the end. Sonically too, this album takes risks, taking on strange Latin rhythms (“Cemeteries of London”) and even jazzy guitar textures (“Strawberry Swing”). But there are only so many tricks you can teach an old dog and when it comes to lyrics, it’s unfortunate to see Chris Martin still living in a world where soldiers “have got to soldier on” and “sometimes even right is wrong”. And as much as they’ve tried to shake things up here, Coldplay still find it hard to resist going for the stadium-sized choruses (“Violet Hill”, “Lost!”). But being a stadium rock band, at least they know their place in the world.

That said, on “Viva la Vida” (the song, not the album), everything falls into place. A wave of strings is married perfectly to the vocal melody, and the lyrics, for once, are about something specific. By writing from the point of view of a deposed king, Martin is able to piece together an assortment of evocative images (Jerusalem bells, Roman cavalry choirs, missionaries in foreign fields) and imbue them with the essence of a dying era. Of course, parallels can be drawn between the protagonist of “Viva la Vida” and Bush or Blair as each finish their political runs, but the lyrics can stand outside of politics or history and still feel poignant and relevant.

And in the end, Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends is still going to be an album that will sell about ten million copies, which probably means that it’s going to be the must-own CD of 2008 to all those strange buggers who only seem to buy one album per year. Luckily, unlike X&Y, it won’t be a stadium-sized disappointment.

General update #4.

(Whenever any singer really starts getting into their music, there exists a fine line between looking dreamy and impassioned, and looking drunk. Torquil Campbell of Stars just crossed that line. © 2007 Benjamin Luk.)

So I wasn't going to post today what with it being as sunny as a Viagra commercial outside, but since I'm busy coughing up a lung and otherwise generally being as sick as fuck, I probably shouldn't be around people right now. Which is why I'm in front of the computer for what must be the sixtieth hour this week with a couple of MGD's in me, trying to remember if I actually had anything to say or not. (Yes, I'm perfectly aware that MGD is essentially carbonated piss, and no, I don't give a rat's ass.)

Anyway, as some of you may have noticed, we now have our very own ThatRockBlog.com Facebook Group. It's slowly becoming the most practical way to communicate with the contributors of the blog and let us know what material you want covered within the next few months. Some weirdo chap named Jeff who may or may not look like a Venezuelan rapist just got in touch with us to say that he wants to see more local coverage. Having already covered the godlike Andy Dixon, and everything from local ska (woo!) to local pop-punk (ugh...) to local new-wave electro Dutch pop (wtf?), I think we've already done a pretty decent fucking job. But maybe you know something we don't know, so shoot us a line if you think you have something worthy of our time. Even if you don't, we'll probably still enjoy tearing someone's musical hopes and dreams to shreds. We're kinda dicks that way.

In the meantime, we've requested passes to Stars, Matt Good and Girl Talk coming up. Whether or not we actually land any of those is entirely up to the good people at Sealed With A Kiss, Live Nation, and Discorder Magazine.

• Sealed With A Kiss presents Stars at the Malkin Bowl in Stanley Park on Saturday, June 21st. Tickets: $27.50.
• Live Nation presents Matthew Good & His Band at The Orpheum on Thursday, June 26th. Tickets: $39.50.
• Sealed With A Kiss presents Girl Talk at The Commodore Ballroom on Thursday, July 24th. Tickets: $19.75.

Also, we want to know What's On Your Stereo? (Let us know if you like Crystal Castles! We could use a good laugh!)

Coming soon: Pearce Donnelly spins Coldplay's new album, Viva la Vida, so stay tuned.

OFF THE RECORD: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

(Courtesy of Mute Records.)

Before we get started here, I feel I should tell you that Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! is the first Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds album I’ve ever heard. And so, I find myself facing the same conundrum that troubled my good friend and ThatRockBlog.com founder Benjamin Luk a month or so ago when he reviewed Daniel Johnston. Namely, how do you review an artist so prolific that their entire music output would take weeks of intense listening in order to truly appreciate and understand? Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! is Nick Cave’s 14th studio album, and that’s not even touching upon his work with the seminal Australian goth-rock group The Birthday Party, or the many soundtracks and side projects he’s been involved with over the years.

But in a way, not knowing his previous work is a blessing. I won’t get bogged down in comparing this album to Cave’s reputed masterpieces (1997’s The Boatman’s Call or 1988’s Tender Prey), because I’ve never heard them. And I won’t have any existing biases either for or against the man and his music. Unburdened by expectation, I can simply talk about this album. And what an album it is.

It’s clear from the opening title track that Nick Cave is a man whose lyrical powers put him in rare company. That first song alone, in which Cave takes the Christian tale of the reincarnation of Lazarus and updates it for the modern era, features more imaginative storytelling than anything else I’m likely to hear this year. The fact that it does so while The Bad Seeds rock out like a bar band in a Bavarian circus make it a monster of a song.

Yet, the whole album is chock full of such tunes. “We Call Upon the Author” has guitars that sound like chainsaws and swirls of Doors-esque organs, while Cave burns through half-poetic, half-unhinged lyrics like, “Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every thought?”. The same song also sees fit to throw in such eccentric vocabulary as “myxomatoid”, “jejune” and “prolix”, the latter featuring prominently in the post-chorus breakdowns. “More News from Nowhere” on the other hand, is a fantastic closer in the tradition of Dylan’s “Desolation Row” and The Doors’ “The End”. I could rave more about the lyrics in this one but it’s Mick Harvey’s simple and elegant guitar line that steals the show.

As an album, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! is a cohesive work that ebbs and flows in its own psychotic tide. The knocks against it are slight, but apparent nonetheless. With such long and involved lyrics, the melodies inevitably suffer, though The Bad Seeds make up for it enough musically so it doesn’t become a major sticking point. However, songs like “Midnight Man” and “Hold On to Yourself” are too pedestrian for a man of Cave’s genius, and keep Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! from reaching the stratosphere.

That said, this is far and away the best of all the albums I’ve reviewed to this point for ThatRockBlog.com, and I relish the opportunity to throw myself into Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds’ storied back catalogue.

LIVE WIRE: Boobies and blow-up dolls.

(Taken mere seconds before Killswitch frontman Howard Jones' "I have a dream" speech. © 2008 Kaleena Marie.)

So you know that song "My Curse" from GH3? Well, that's Killswitch Engage, and mashing away on five coloured buttons with your wasted buddies is a total understatement of their talent. Killswitch Engage (or KSE, to those in the know) finished up their North American tour at Vancouver’s Croatian Cultural Centre last Thursday, and they wanted to make damn sure they left an impression on the crowd.

As the lights dimmed, I didn't have to even look at the masses behind me to feel the energy and excitement radiating off them, chanting "Killswitch! Killswitch! Killswitch!" Drummer Justin Foley and his bandmates took their places on stage, setting the audience up to explode in applause as guitarist Adam D came out, wearing one of the most ridiculous outfits I’d ever seen. Sporting a pair of jeans that could only be described as shredded, he also had a blow-up doll taped to his back. He then went on to introduce the doll as his date for the evening, Back Alley Sally.

Ever the classy motherfucker, Adam D took his antics as far as yelling, "I want topless girls crowd surfing right now!” To the delight of KSE’s male fans, the ladies complied. Which may have been a bit less troubling if this weren't happening at an all-ages show.

Rocking the staples of every good Killswitch show like "Rose of Sharyn", "The End of Heartache", and the ever-popular Guitar Hero anthem "My Curse", KSE ripped through material new and old, transforming me from casual listener to dedicated fan in just over an hour. Foley’s epic drum rolls and remarkable stamina behind the kit was nothing short of awe-inspiring, and frontman Howard Jones proved to the world once again that he can look as friendly as Uncle Ben while sounding like Satan himself.

The band announced that night that they would be going back into the studio to write and record new material in the not-so-distant future. This is my curse, the waiting.

Special thanks to Jessica Dunn of Live Nation.

LOCAL EXPOSURE: This'll go over like a lead zeppelin.

(Needless to say, The Last Scene's Mark Woodyard had no trouble impressing the judges at this year's Fraggle Rock auditions. © 2008 Benjamin Luk.)

Last Wednesday at the Railway Club was not the first time I'd watched The Last Scene perform live. I'd caught the end of one of their shows back in March, but something about their gig that night didn't exactly strike me as memorable. (Seeing über-fox Alison Sudol live that night right before them may have had something to do with it.) But of what I recall, I distinctly remember thinking that this was a local band that really needed to up its ante. For a basic three-piece (guitar, bass and drums), they required a little something extra to separate themselves from the metric fuckton of local garage bands formed when all their members were still in high school. And of course, as was evidenced by the band's decision to play a cover of "Whole Lotta Love" in the middle of their set on Wednesday, The Last Scene is greatly influenced by Zeppelin. Which, sadly, doesn't do a very good job of separating them from the pack at all.

That's not to say that The Last Scene doesn't have a lot going for them. They're obviously well-rehearsed, stopping and starting in the middle of songs right on cue, and drummer Jordan Storey had no trouble effortlessly thrashing away behind the kit like Animal on a bender. Yet, as much as The Last Scene is influenced by classic rock, their sound is more based in the indie emo tradition, bringing to mind images of every kid I've ever wanted to stab in the eye and bands like The Early November and The Weakerthans. "Come Spend the Night" and "Little o' This, Little o' That", both of which they played, aren't even much of a departure from that genre, with lyrics right on the verge of bad teen poetry.

It sounds like I'm slagging these guys pretty harsh (and maybe I am), but a band cannot evolve musically until they know what's missing. Fully anticipating that The Last Scene will eventually get around to reading this, the only advice I can give is 'change it up'. Indie emo's as dead as The Ataris and they got famous covering Don Henley. Don't try to become famous covering Zeppelin. The music world will eat you alive. Good luck.

Special thanks to Britt Riddell of Less Than Three Promotions.