LIVE WIRE: Julian Casablancas, is this it?

(As Julian Casablancas will tell you, trying to extract a microphone from your nose is no laughing matter. © 2009 Jordana Meilleur, courtesy of GuttersnipeNews.com.)

It's hard to find a singer that's emerged this decade who's had a bigger impact on the sound of modern rock than Julian Casablancas. If you've forgotten by now how many Strokes clones emerged in the early 2000s and how many vocalists suddenly started singing in the most disaffected just-got-out-of-bed tone, you need only take a look at where The Strokes' debut placed in NME's and Pitchfork's recent Top Albums of the Decade lists to see Casablancas' lasting impact on the rock landscape.

That said, despite his golden pipes, the man is not the most engaging live performer there is. I mean, it's not like he's Cat Power or Van Morrison or anything like that; he does actually address the crowd and play to them. It's just that he seems well aware of that unwritten rock-and-roll rule which states that it's much easier to look cool-as-fuck without moving around too much. So it was no surprise that Julian kept his stage movements pretty minimal Monday night at The Commodore. He would sing front and center with the mic stand, take the mic out, move toward the crowd on the left or right side of the stage, go back to the center, put the mic back in the stand, and repeat it all over again. It's a strategy that makes sense when he's crooning away on one of his gentler ballads (like "Ludlow Street", which he opened the show with), but sometimes leaves him looking a bit lost or even bored during his more uptempo songs.

And so it was a great moment when, in the middle of the frenetic, nearly industrial pulse of "River of Brakelights", he accidentally smacked the mic stand down into the crowd and had to reach in to retrieve it. He seemed genuinely flustered for a moment and apologized after he'd finished the song: "Hey, I'm sorry about that, but I guess you forgive me 'cuz someone gave me a kiss on the lips." The girls went wild. This little episode also made Julian a bit more responsive to the crowd as he worked through his dancier songs like current single "11th Dimension".

But the spark didn't last all night. After all, his debut solo album only has eight songs on it and they aren't all winners. Once he'd used up all the catchy tunes that frontload Phrazes for the Young, he pulled out a crappy B-side called "Old Hollywood" that did little more than drag its ass across the stage for four-and-a-half minutes. And for those of you wondering, he did eventually end up playing a Strokes song, but for some bizarre reason, Julian chose to treat us to "I'll Try Anything Once", an underdeveloped early draft of the much superior "You Only Live Once".

That's not to say that all the ballads failed (ending the main set with "Glass" was an inspired choice), but for a crowd that was clearly ready to move, Julian didn't fully deliver. Given that he's playing without the Strokes' mighty catalogue, it's understandable he doesn't have enough great tunes to carry an entire show, but if this solo venture turns out to be more than just a break from the band that made his name, Julian might have to ditch the cooler-than-thou poses and bow to that other entertainment cliché: Leave your heart on the stage.

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Special thanks to Guttersnipe for letting us use their archive photo after our photographer had to bail unexpectedly. For more on Julian Casablancas from Guttersnipe, click here.

LIVE WIRE: Matt Good crusades for Vancouver.

(Before every song he performs, Matt needs to get himself into the proper headspace. Here, he's seen ruminating over the sense of loss and guilt he experienced the first time he ran over a squirrel. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)

The Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts is not very rock-and-roll. Everything is calculated; there are seat numbers, middle-aged women as ushers in matching uniforms, and gentle elevator Muzak to welcome you into the theatre. There's no moshing allowed at The Centre. Only bored looking security guards at either end of the stage and official-sounding announcements before each performer comes on.

Matthew Good came onstage a little fatter, a little balder than I expected. Casually dressed in a blue button-down long-sleeved shirt and jeans, there's nothing about him that particularly hints at his career as a widely-known Canadian rock musician; he looks more like a friend's dad than a three-time Juno award winner. As the polite applause died down, Matt ditched the glasses and started with "The Boy Who Could Explode" in the dim blue glow of the spotlight.

Most of Matt's songs come out of personal struggles. His lyrics seem to be the product of a deep misery and as Matt's face fell into shadow (as it frequently did over the course of the evening), the weight of his words were evocative and intentioned to depress. As the night wore on, we also learned that Matt is a smart man, a very lyrically-driven songwriter, and a crusader of sorts in local and global politics. He tells his audience how the 2010 Olympics are costing Vancouver more than money, then drives the point home with "The Vancouver National Anthem". We have bigger problems than attracting tourists when, "Out of the alleys / Are needle-strewn fields."

What did being at the Matt Good concert feel like? Well, it felt like being in the middle of someone's existential crisis. Matt's prodding melancholy vocals, the moody lighting and intermittent clouds of stage fog turned this concert into a moral philosophy class for the pot-smoking indie rockers of Vancouver. That being said, Matt's musical style is a bit repetitive. Three-quarters of his songs started off with all the spotlights on Matt while he played something acoustic and crooned moodily into his microphone. After the first verse, the band came in and swung their rock cocks around for the chorus, until the next verse when Matt took over again on acoustic, as miserably as Matt could muster. Melancholy is his signature.

Closing admirably on "Empty's Theme Park", Matt kept his fans going enough to demand a lengthy encore. His message to Vancouver remains clear: Many of us may be proud of the changes coming to Vancouver in the next few years, but once it's all over and done with, we may just find ourselves "Champions of Nothing".

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Matt Good played The Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts on November 9 - 10, 2009. Special thanks to Live Nation.

LIVE WIRE: Mika takes us on a journey to any other world.

(In this rare leaked scene from Star Trek XII, Mika challenges Spock to a karaoke contest amongst the stars. Test audiences responded favorably. © 2009 Benjamin Luk.)

I doubt Mika's ever been sad a day in his life. Between that captivating grin and his increasingly flamboyant costume changes, it's nigh impossible to be even vaguely glum in his presence. The stage was decked out with hanging planets, fog machines sat waiting in the wings, and air blowers preloaded with confetti stood on the sidelines. When Mika made his grand appearance to tumultuous fanfare, it was in full astronaut regalia as he bounced and hovered in slow motion, as though weightless on the moon. Even though we knew we were in for a show at this point, the next hour-and-a-half was still a mad spectacle.

The band started to play. Mika had hovered offstage momentarily and the band members looked like Carnivàle, covered in neon face paint that glowed in the black lights and wearing stylish suits and dresses with mismatched patterns. There was a brief hiccup in the opening of their set as "Relax, Take It Easy" began; Mika was nowhere to be seen even as the notes of the first verse were playing. The band was confused but played on, and soon enough, Mika ran back onstage to deliver the chorus with explosive energy. That astronaut costume must've been difficult to get off, probably exacerbated by the fact he seemed to be wearing a cast on his right leg. As the show progressed, I couldn't help thinking Mika was anchored by that cast and maybe we'd all been cheated of a full-energy show by an ill-timed leg injury. But more about that later.

The theatrics of the show were a scream. "Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)" was accompanied by large, loud and proud backup dancers at the rear of the stage; "Blue Eyes" had two giant cardboard eyes waving back and forth to the beat of the song; and for reasons I'll never understand, at one point in the show, Mika walked offstage playing with a teapot marionette and was replaced temporarily by a giant walking teapot holding a Mika marionette! I wish I could explain that in a way that doesn't sound so much like a bad acid trip, but maybe it's something you just need to see to understand.

Between songs, Mika flirts with the Vancouver crowd, remarking on "how fragrant the air is" and how the wireless transmitter in his pocket keeps him from sitting down "like Bette Midler or something". He also thanks us for being such a great audience to end their North American tour with. (I'm sure he says something like that in every city, but we accept the compliment graciously anyway.) All in all, it was a wonderful performance, two encores and all; and yet, I felt as though something was missing. Maybe Mika wasn't quite channeling Freddie the same way with that cast on, or maybe it was the way his amazing backup singer seemed to upstage him at times with sheer energy alone, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi that just wasn't there. Oddly, in spite of a grand finale involving balloons and confetti raining from the ceiling, I was expecting more. But perhaps it's a testament to Mika's excellent work as a recording artist that my expectations were so unreasonably high.

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Mika played The Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver, BC on October 27th, 2009. Special thanks to Timbre Productions.

LIVE WIRE: It's not just women. Men also Gossip.

(Beth Ditto of Gossip invites the crowd to touch her inappropriately. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)

Before we get straight into Gossip, let's not forget about the MEN. It probably would have been a different show entirely if they hadn't warmed up the crowd the way they did with their energetic stage antics and irreverent subject matter. By the time they arrived onstage pushing 10 o'clock, the audience was getting restless and were anxious to dance. Clad in purple leotards and chain mail, MEN's set was full of techno cardboard cutout hands and finger-fucking references, not to mention a song about having sex with your gay friends to make gay babies. The crowd ate it up.

(JD Samson of MEN reliving his teenage days as a real estate mascot. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)

After MEN finished up, the crowd started getting really antsy, screaming out Beth Ditto's name and pounding their feet into the Commodore's bouncing floor. A drum beat followed and Beth emerged, strutting her way to centre stage. She's only five-foot-two, but she takes up space and demands attention. She is a force of a woman. I imagine wherever she goes, queer people and fat girls break dates and reschedule appointments just to come see her. She's an icon for fat women and gays alike, and she knows it.

With a voice clear and loud, Beth Ditto is an extremely powerful singer. Gossip's sound is upbeat and reminiscent of the 80s, though still very much rooted in modern dance rock. Guitarist Nathan "Brace Paine" Howdeshell looked like a hipster mad scientist fathered by Weird Al and acted the part too, hopping around enthusiastically with his Gibson Firebird the whole show.

(Beth Ditto, seen shortly after bench pressing her entire audience and snacking on the weak. © 2009 Sylvia McFadden.)

Beth wore a skintight black dress with her hair cut short and dyed bubblegum pink. Her eyes were done up to resemble 60s go-go dancer chic with painted-on swoops, and during one of her songs, she wiped her face with a towel and absolutely none of it came off. I can't think of anything short of car paint that sticks to skin with that kind of resolve, but it looked amazing so I'm not complaining.

In the encore, Beth hopped off the stage onto the dance floor. She's so short, she immediately disappeared amongst the bodies in the crowd, yet her voice still rang out strong and beautiful. After her last song, she demurely asked for help getting back up onstage. It was a quaint, if not a little awkward, end to an entertaining evening.

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Gossip played The Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver, BC on October 22nd, 2009. Special thanks to Timbre Productions.