Welcome to Toronto!

So, so tired.

One of the (many) perks of relocating to the big city was that I would get to go to as many shows as my little heart desired. You know, at least once a week or so, I thought. Little did I know, my first week here would coincide with Canadian Music Week. Phew. Even with my “i-work-early-and-it’s-a-new-job-so-i’m-going-to-be-a-grandma” attitude, I still managed to catch about a dozen bands in the span of four days.

To summarize this event, CMW presents 500 artists spread out across 40 venues, starting on Wednesday up to Sunday. Yes. Needless to say, Monday was brutal – I showed up to work late with a nasty cold. I think I ate 4 oranges at my desk today. The big ones. But I digress.

Some CMW highs:

Karkwa – This Québécois band blows me away every time. Even the people around me who had no idea what the band was singing about were completely entranced. With a new album due out April 1^st, their set mixed old songs with some amazing new material. Please give them a listen, I promise they are lovely.

The Acorn – Amazing set at the Horseshoe, made us Ottawaiians proud. Ottawans? Ottawanians? (According to my spellcheck, it’s Ottomans. Obviously.) Still haven’t figured out what a “morning-after burrito” is, but this topic seemed to preoccupy the band quite a bit. Doesn’t Ottawa prefer morning-after shawarma?

White Cowbell Oklahoma – Probably the most terrifying live show I have EVER seen. Big burly bearded boys (men, in fact, but I wanted to complete the alliteration) and sweaty, heavy rock. There were half naked ladies wearing devil horns dancing on the speakers, pyrotechnics (still at the Horseshoe) and a CHAINSAW. Yes – they sawed a Tweetie Bird piñata in two and then used the power tool to project toilet paper into the audience.

Some CMW lows:

Your wrist band does NOT guarantee you access. And this lovely week also turned out to be one of the biggest snow storms of the year. READ: lots of waiting outside in the cold cold snow. And being turned away from the RZA show on Sunday night. Jerks.

Special mention goes out to Ottawa’s Fucked Corpse, who we stumbled upon while trying to find shelter from the cold. They were randomly playing at the XPACE gallery on my street, so we stopped in for a few Grolsch and some sweet art. They weren’t part of CMW, but I think they should have been.

Next time.

xo.