This is not a concert review. Yeah, I know what the headline says. So if you’re here for a retelling of all the face-melting rock majesty that Dave Grohl and company poured over the Rogers Centre crowd, I’m sorry to disappoint. The thing is, my attention wasn’t 100% on the show. My attention was on my boys, because it was their first ever concert. My 10-year-old little dudes have now been baptized in rock by Reverend Grohl and his rock and roll apostles, and I couldn’t be prouder. Continue reading
There are no words. That’s about the laziest thing a writer can say about anything. And yet it was the first phrase that came to mind about The Beaches’ homecoming show in Toronto Friday night, rounding out a headlining tour across Canada. So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to use a fourth-grade poetry trick and use that hacky phrase as my guide to actually say some words. Continue reading
Maybe something good is coming.
Two and a half years ago I began my first review of a Dear Rouge show with almost the same line. It just wasn’t quite right. I misremembered it because it was from a new song they were playing while touring their first album, Black to Gold. I’d never heard it before, but I immediately loved it. I misremembered it as, “Maybe something good is gonna happen.” Continue reading
One of my favourite moments in last night’s blazing celebration of rock at Toronto’s Phoenix Concert Theatre was not even a musical one, and yet it perfectly illustrates what this night was about. Continue reading
I’ve never been one of those “I have to meet my favourite musicians” guys. One of my two all time favourites is Juliana Hatfield. She hasn’t played Toronto in a few years, but she always used to stop by Lee’s Palace, back when it was the most beautiful of weird little venues. Continue reading
Maybe something good is gonna happen.
I was just starting to formulate the theme of this “sort-of review,” of my last 27 hours, when Drew and Danielle McTaggart of Dear Rouge sang that line to a sold-out Mod Club in Toronto. And that cemented it. Continue reading
I suppose it’s a function of my age that I’ve now gone to two 90s-centric music festivals in the span of a month. But this one, held in Kitchener, Ontario, was different from Burlington’s Sound of Music Festival: it was louder, it was grungier, it was sexier, and at the same time it was bizarrely, paradoxically suburban. Continue reading