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I fucking love Toronto. You can be an unprepared douche when it's your turn to find "something cool to do" and - what's that? - Eye or Now or any number of TO scene rags will save you handily, last minute. Through these tomes of street wisdom the Horseshoe Tavern was pinpointed as a suitable venture. Live music! No cover! Pow! Sluts!?

I especially like seeing bands that I know nothing about, because then I can't possibly be disappointed. I mean, a band can still suck but at least then you can say stuff like, "I can see why nobody's heard of these assholes," and fall asleep, or go vomit or whatever.

If you're at a show you dropped coin for, you are required to pay attention no matter how atrocious the performance, because otherwise you are admitting you got gypped. It's the same deal when you purchase an item that sucks - clothing, say. A new, suck-ass jacket. You are obligated to give your jacket a chance. You'll lie to yourself about value; mentally compensate for its faults. Maybe try overmuch to convince other people of your purchase's worth: "Yeah the sleeves are a little short, but I really like how this polyester collar covers my ears when I flip it up... it's really warm. Really." All this is just for peace of mind. Nobody wants to admit that they fucked up and made a bad choice. Hey, it was on sale for a reason.

I am doing a poor job of relating all these ideas together, but that's okay because paragraphs are a "self-contained unit" for the purpose of ordering "varied points of discourse" and what that means, motherfuckers, is that I can do what I like. As long as I separate ideas, I guess. One good thing about postmodernism is that confusion is idealized, multiform scatterings of text supposedly reveal complexity, and we can all write like ADD squirrels and get away with it. Yes, these are grand days for English literature. The blogs of the unwashed po-mo hoes.

The Marble Index (blauuughh) were radio kings of yesteryear and are now playing free shows at the Horseshoe, apparently. But I don't much care to write about them because there was another group called Jetplanes of Abraham, out of the wilds of Ottawa, who were much better. I am a sucker for a lady with a violin (like Sarah from The Arcade Fire!), and for bands that crowd the stage with silly instruments and too many guitars (like The Arcade Fire!). Scutt likes tall nerdbags with glasses (Richard from The Arcade Fire?). And clapping - oh God, clapping. Clap clap clap. I think The Arcade Fire does that too. There's something here for everybody! ...who likes The Arcade Fire.

Anyhow, Jetplanes of Abraham are catchy and fun in their own way - I am just saying that if you like The Arcade Fire, you might enjoy Jetplanes of Abraham too. We were sad when their set finished, so we tracked them down in the bar to demand purchase of their CD. They were nice people and right this moment they are singing in my ear, scrambling my thoughts and turning my... making... finger... click... submit... button... not fini

Posted by Chris at 02:49 PM >> Commentations (3)