Ah, NXNE. Toronto’s three nights of the year when everyone who’s anyone – and your correspondent is no one unless someone – is indie. It was a good inaugural night.
I saw three acts of varying style and quality, and of them I suppose my least favourite was Jets Overhead of Victoria. They weren’t awful or anything, fine for what it was, but they had the stage presence of slowly rolling Oreos and their music . . . well . . . Lady and I found a dialogue to describe it whilst lounging and drinking, waiting for Priestess to come on – whom see.
Me: They sound like the Cult.
Lady: But they suck.
Lady: They sound like U2.
Me: But they suck.
Me: They sound like the Arcade Fire.
Lady: But they suck.
Me: They sound like a lot of things. But they suck.
Following Jets Overhead was the aforementioned Priestess, of Montréal. It was loud, hard, heavy and sweaty and made me want to hit people in a good way. It was loud, did I mention? Lady and I went up to the centre left to not be right in front of the speakers – J*Fish et all were and complained of deafness afterwards. It was hot. Hot, like, hot. Wow, did I ever want to fuck the bass player. No, actually I didn’t want to fuck him per se, because then he would have had to stop playing the bass. When I think about what I did want from him in more careful terms, I realize it’s too filthy to write in a public forum, even anonymously and even though he wouldn’t have to stop playing to do it. How about that. I’ve found my shame threshold. What an odd place for it.
But for me the highlight of the evening was Japan’s Megababe, a three girl punk group who fucking gave’er for their whole set. The drummer was the darlingest drummer ever since Animal, going fucking apeshit back there and NEVER BREAKING HER SMILE, and the bass player was just straight up hot, hotter than the bass player from Priestess, though perhaps in a less filthy way. Cuteness aside, though, those bitches fucking rocked. The vocals were great, powerful; the percussion what you’d expect if Animal wasn’t just a puppet, and the bass was dayum, to fall back on similes, like a storm of dark maple syrup icicles. Fucking awesome.
I hated the crowd, though. I mean, they were into it in the sense that all the plump aging indie boys - the lurking-filming-not-screaming fanboys - had their digital cameras trained steadily at the stage for the whole set and a rapt look on their face, but they weren’t into it in the sense of trashing shit or, say, moving. And Megababe really manage to make melodic big nasty thrashy bass-y punk that deserves to soundtrack shit being trashed. And they manage to make that look like what they were born to do.
I forget what the NXNE schedule is for tonight – I know King Kahn is in it. I want me some King Kahn. And now to work.