Osheaga 2013: The Good, The Better & The Miscellaneous

Osheaga 2013

Osheaga 2013

I would’ve gone with the clichéd title “The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly,” but quite francophonely, there was so little bad or ugly about the 2013 iteration of Montreal’s hyper-efficient Osheaga music festival, that it’d be pointless and flat-out misleading to have those words headlining this post.

Having been lucky enough to attend several music festivals, in North America and abroad, I’ve seen good, bad, and terrible: organization, locations, and logic. I’m ecstatic, and more than a little surprised, that Osheaga seemed to utilize/implement the best of other festivals while minimizing/mitigating many of the annoying aspects of such a huge undertaking.

Beer vendor during Grouplove serving the masses

Beer vendor during Grouplove serving the masses

This post deals with what I considered good/great about the festival (non-music performance related, that’s coming up in part 2). Probably the best thing about the festival, and something I hadn’t seen any other festival employ, were the beer vendors who stalked the grounds and came to you. Brilliant. And it’s not like there were 2 or 3 vendors and you had to wait 45 minutes between visits; there were a tonne of vendors and they were always around (and managed to stay out of the way for the most part). Kudos to those workers for their efficiency, timeliness, and ability to work such long hours under such physical duress (cool triceps brrrro, how much do you bench? 100 reps of 20 16 oz. pops, thanks for asking brrrro). Also, the pricing for the beer/alcohol was really good, in a relative sense of course. Toronto sporting events and/or festivals would see similar-sized beers go for anywhere from $8-$15, while they were “only” $6 at Osheaga.

Osheaga's 2 Mainz

Osheaga’s 2 Mainz

The main stages or 2 Mainz for all the kids out there, were set up with sound logic. Having the festival start at 1 pm with no downtime required great planning, and could’ve only been accomplished by doing what they did: whilst one stage was in use, the other was being set up for the next act. All-in-all, I think the plan was smart and it was executed extremely well (kudos to all the behind-the-scenes workers, I’m sure you dealt with some hairy situations, but all the crowd saw was seamless transitioning).

The other stages were also well positioned and well spaced out, and there was always an opportunity to get as close as you wanted to any of the stages (especially the Verte and des Arbres stages). You could even clear a path close to one of the two main stages if you threw in a healthy dose of “je m’excuse’s.”

Yes, I'll take one of each please

Yes, I’ll take one of each please

There were a tonne of food options. If you wanted to go with stock festival food, it was convenient to do so and the lineups at those places were never long, and if you preferred something a bit more nuanced, you had a bevy of food trucks offering unique items at your disposal. I didn’t get to try a lot of stuff, but the grilled cheese (can’t remember the name of the truck) and the nutella-laden beaver tail from the Queues de Castor truck were sensational.

Lines were never too long for washrooms, though in saying that, I’m relying solely on what I saw, and not what I experienced. If there were an Olympic event for bladder control, I would be competing for the gold medal every time. I didn’t go once at the festival. Maybe one time, I felt the urge to go, but I had better things to do. I had a music festival to attend to.

It was great to not feel like Big Brother (popos, rent-a-popos) was lurking everywhere. They were definitely around, but I didn’t have to see them “make a move” once. A good sign that their directive was sound and that the attendees conducted themselves with at least some semblance of decorum.

Night view of the St. Lawrence from the Parc

Night view of the St. Lawrence from the Parc

The landscape of Parc Jean Drapeau is beautiful. It’s right off the St. Lawrence river for starters. At the Parc, there are a tonne of trees and many places where people could rest if they felt like getting away from the music for a bit (not my cup of tea, but it was possible, if the desire was there). Where it could take 20-25 minutes at other festivals to get from one end of the grounds to the other, a brisk walk could see one get from the Verte stage to the main stage area in around 10-12 minutes. Not bad at all.

Rest area, replete with hammocks

Rest area, replete with hammocks

The Metro was fantastically organized, thank goodness, because it was essentially the only way (a few cars or Bixi bikes notwithstanding) off the island. Sure, there was a bit of a wait each night to get into the station, but that was never not going to happen, and the crowds were dealt with in a clear and orderly way. The Metro workers deserve a huge round of applause for their patience and service.

A few quick hits: there weren’t nearly as many smokers as I thought there might be, and I was so happy, as a non-smoker, for that. Rock Werchter, the Belgian festival, had the best lineup of any festival in the world last year, but the experience really was tempered by the fact that every one of those bloody Europeans smoked. There was little-to-no tomfoolery (the bad kind), I didn’t see any fights, and the attendees seemed to be really well behaved and friendly (good job drunk people!). Set times were adhered to exceptionally well (this is no small thing — you don’t notice when everything goes according to plan, but when set times go awry, it throws the whole production off). The Osheaga app worked and updated like a charm, and Wifi seemed to have always been accessible. Osheaga had workers taking surveys, which, in theory, can only lead to an improved experience next year. Lastly, the Parc had cool installations. My favourite was the red-lit foresty area that came alive at night.

The dream that comes alive at night

The dream that comes alive at night

The Osheaga mascot & the thing with rainbow dreads

The Osheaga mascot & the thing with rainbow dreads

All of the good is possibly even more surprising because Osheaga is still in its relative infancy as a festival. It’s been around for a mere 8 years, and it’s really only been a “big” draw for the past couple years, so to have everything operate so smoothly and with such efficiency speaks very loudly of the people who worked at and organized the festival.

If I were to pick nits, a couple of small issues arose here and there. I would say the sound could’ve been a bit better at times. Ellie Goulding’s energetic and hit-filled set was marred by an incessant cracking that lasted as long as she was on stage. Unfortunate. I was standing to the right of the main stage when Imagine Dragons performed, and I thought the volume of their set was really low.

To the people who instagrammed/tweeted ad nauseum: why? Just why? I ask the question rhetorically, because there’s no good answer I could be given that would be justifiable (you’re at a music festival, how about you enjoy the moment a little bit?).

K-os, what happened to you dude? Your head could barely fit on the main stage. I don’t think he was always like he is now. His attitude took a sharp left somewhere along the way. Here’s hoping he gets back to the man he used to be.

The cancellations seemed to be an issue for a lot of people, though for me, it was no big deal. Some were upset, as Frank Ocean was the first to cancel (legit reasons, torn vocal chord), and he was replaced by Miguel who then cancelled (he had a prior leg-dropping engagement — a little birdie told me that he had a brunch date with Hulk Hogan in Florida to reminisce about past leg-dropping experiences, to confer about the best way to, anatomically, slam leg-into-head, to illuminate the philosophical and anthropological deductions one can make after connecting, with brute force, one’s leg to another human’s skull and/or esophageal region, and the future of leg-dropping (theory, practice, and dissemination). Then Azealia Banks cancelled (prior ruining-of-cunts commitment), and then finally, Death Grips (prior beating-the-fuck-out-of-people commitment) did the same. All of this wasn’t ideal, but with a festival of over 100 acts, it’s always going to be a high-wire act to ensure that everyone shows up healthy and/or mentally stable (enough to perform). I’m not going to focus on that though because there was way too much incredible artistry going on to be focused on who wasn’t there.

Miguel's prior commitment

Miguel’s prior commitment

Finally, and this isn’t really an Osheaga problem as much as it is a city planning issue, but I left Montreal on Monday afternoon and just got back yesterday (Thursday). I may have fallen asleep at the wheel and lost track of time or something, but I think the trek home took somewhere around 76 hours. There’s a lot of construction, and not nearly enough multi-lane action, once you hit the outskirts of Montreal, and it makes for an awfully tedious ride home. The traffic told me that Osheaga is a de facto Toronto festival. I can’t say how many Osheaga attendees were from Toronto, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was half or close to it. Torontonians love their music, and since city council and downtown residents really shat the bed when they conspired to cancel the awesome and practical V-fest (that took place at Centre Island for several years during the late 2000’s), Torontonians need a place to get their festival fix. I don’t have a problem with going to Montreal; it’s prettier, more cultured, more organized and cheaper to stay/eat in than Toronto, I just wish there were more options when leaving the city to get back home.

So that’s the good, the better, and the miscellaneous of Osheaga 2013 as it relates to everything not related to the actual performances. The next post will look at my favourite performances of the festival.

Top 100 Songs of 2012 (10-1)

To the end at last. 2012 has been my favourite year of music in quite some time. The art of song remains a lingering, laudable luminescence. Here are my top ten songs of 2012:

10. Icky Blossoms – Perfect Vision

Loops upon loops upon loops upon stoops,

Around and around and around, they abound;

Driving sounds through sounds on top of sounds,

Around and around and around, they abound;

Trumpets blast, aspersions cast, players cast,

Around and around and around, they abound;

They’re shrinking, growing, coming, going,

Around and around and around, they abound;

A sound’s a sound, seeking only renown,

Around and around and around, they abound.

 

9. a) One Direction – What Makes You Beautiful

Timed to perfection. The manufacturing of five eager, wholesome, good-looking lads is never a horrible well to draw water from, but that can’t be all there is. To get as big as One Direction have become, you need “the song.” What is “the song?” It’s one defining hit that’s inescapable, redoubtable, world-conqueringly massive. But bands like One Direction don’t always get “the song.” The Backstreet Boys had “I Want It That Way”, ‘Nsync had “Bye Bye Bye”, and now, One Direction, have theirs in “What Makes You Beautiful”. No one can ever take that away from them. Obviously from the Swedish hit factory that’s held a monopoly on domination-pop for the last 15 years (40 years if you want to go back to Ace of Base, and ABBA before them), “WMYB” checks off all the “to-do’s” on the list and laughs when it’s done. “WMYB” is so big One Direction can live off of its name for years. They’ll have to, as they almost certainly will never have a pop song this perfect cross their paths again.

 

9. b) Paul Banks – The Base

With “The Base”, Paul has joined the long line of Banks’ that’ve done it big: Carlton Banks, Azealia Banks, Canadian Banks, Lloyd Banks, Tyra Banks, Ernie Banks, Philip Banks, German Banks, Ashley Banks, The Hobbit’s Banks’, but probably not Vivian Banks and definitely not U.S. Banks.

 

8. Alt-j – Something Good

Alt-j have issued something good, nay, something extraordinary with this song. There’s so much minutia, so many tricks and layers (sticks, stones, bones, and prayers) in this song, one can listen to it 100 times and still not hear everything. But still, the melody is startlingly simple, fresh, authentic. The instrumentation and production are pristine, lovely, perfect. The video (featured below) — one of the best of the year — is a stunning visual companion to the song. The biggest compliment I can pay them is to say that I can’t compare them to any other bands, English or otherwise, heavyweight or otherwise, because to me, they’re already, inescapably, Alt-j.

 

7. a) Wintersleep – Resuscitate

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I can’t believe how good they’ve become. They are an absolute juggernaut of a band. They’re comfortable doing such a wide range of pop-alt-rock songs, and they’re amazing at all of them. Hello Hum is a fantastic album, and “Resuscitate” is its crown jewel. The band has a seemingly preternatural connection with one another, and each individual’s talents are obvious for all to see. They’re honest, compelling, hard-working and uber-talented. I wish the whole world had Wintersleep in its hands, ears, hearts.

 

7. b) Of Monsters and Men – Little Talks/Dirty Paws

From their masterful debut album, Of Monsters and Men have issued two brilliant tracks in “Little Talks” and “Dirty Paws”. “Little Talks” got all the publicity, and deservedly so; it’s a charming, gambolling, call-and-response gem of a tune, concocting an Icelandic take on a mishmash of Arcade Fire and Mumford and Sons sounds. It has one of the best, prettiest videos of the year (featured below). With all the attention and accolades “Little Talks” garnered, “Dirty Paws” seemed to receive the slightly shorter end of the stick; too bad, as it’s a mega-sized, deliciously made and impeccably delivered ditty in its own right. Of Monsters and Men already, one album in, have a supremely sophisticated way with pop music and songcraft. Here’s hoping there’s a lot more where that came from.

 

6. a) Jessie Ware – Wildest Moments

This is what the best pop aspires to be. Endlessly catchy, but with a simmering soul inextricably tied to its grandeur. From the first kick of the kick drum, the immediacy of “Wildest Moments” is achingly apparent, and a sad nostalgia is evident in Jessie Ware’s voice and lyrics. It’s all sensational. Every last word, every last note, every drop of plangent power that pours from the pores of this pop phenomenon is perceptive, precise, a paragon.

 

6. b) Azealia Banks – 212

Whoa. Azealia Banks has risen with flaming, cussing, balls of fury on “212”. It’s a statement of intent from a starving girl whose appetite is voracious. What’s she hungry for? Well, everything apparently. Banks is the opposite of a mountebank; she’s menacing, furious, easy on the mic like she could roll out of bed, smile, and swallow you whole without batting an eyelash, more likely to give you whiplash from how quickly you’ve been gobbled up. The lyrics are borderline unintelligible, but the song works in spite of this (or maybe because of it). The beat/hook is ridiculously catchy, and the production is a controlled frenzy. Azealia is unabashedly youthful in “212” — angry, rude, playful, and focused. Her star exploded in 2012; it seemed like everyone wanted a taste of Azealia. I guess that c*nt gettin’ eaten after all.

 

5. a) Muse – Madness

Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-mad-madness. And my, how it is. Bonkers, nuts, silly, preposterous. All of it. From the opening sounds of “Madness,” Muse have thrown every pre-conceived notion of what box they belong in out the window. “Madness” is a Mt. Olympus-sized amalgam of Queen and U2, where the devil with a matte black guitar lays down one of his best ever vocals. The production is perfect. It was designed to be a world-conquering behemoth, and it probably even exceeded that. I wish Bellamy’s guitar solo was 40x longer than the 19 seconds it is (3:07-3:26). It’s on the short list of best songs they’ve ever done, and without doubt, it’s the most surprising, out of left-field effort they’ve ever produced.

 

5. b) Die Antwoord – I Fink U Freeky

Zef. To death. “I Fink U Freeky” is simply one of the best songs of 2012. Rave, rap, pop, techno, all wrapped into the gnarliest ball of batshit crazy you could imagine. Die Antwoord are not so much diamonds in the rough as they are pieces of coal that died long before they could ever hope to sparkle, on the precipice of fading into oblivion as time and dust render them speckles of dust among the vastness. Only, instead of becoming what was, they halt the process, say “screw that,” and proceed to reform as coals. These new coals work tirelessly to ensure they never become the shining gems they were fated to be. The desire to remain dirty, soot-spreading objects that froth with frenetic, furious, demented energy is the impetus that brought them back to life, unified them, set them free. That’s so Zef.

 

4. Ed Sheeran – The A Team

What a voice. What a melody. What a talent. “The A Team” has been out for quite some time now, but no matter how many times I hear it, it remains a graceful, precious, melancholic lullaby, its ginger raconteur mesmerizing as his voice massages and caresses the melody. Sheeran’s couplets are extremely evocative, his wordplay a calling card, coup de foudre — an amazing accomplishment for any artist, let alone a 21-year old. It’s crystal clear, with “The A Team”, and his phenomenal debut album, +, Ed Sheeran is just getting started. He could have an effortless 40-year career in music, such is his talent. They don’t make many like him. 

 

3. Bloc Party – The Healing

Kele Okereke often sounds vulnerable; it’s clear he’s in touch with his emotions, and the resulting effect on the listener is regularly striking. But “The Healing” is more than striking. It’s more than a pulsating wave of emotional resonance. It’s more than just a Bloc Party song. It’s more than just a song. It’s breathing. It’s forgiving. It’s living. Musically, despite a gorgeous melody, it’s a relatively linear song without too many tricks or complicated arrangements. But that’s not the point. It’s the softest, warmest, most authentic, most confident, most charming I’ve ever heard Kele. There’s a sage energy infused at the core of this track that’s more magnetic than even the mighty Magneto. I feel like “The Healing” is, in some ways, a sonic and lyrical companion to “I Still Remember” (from A Weekend In The City), and a wiser, more experienced friend to “Sunday” (also from A Weekend In The City).  Bloc Party have released a number of amazing songs over the course of their already sterling career: “Like Eating Glass”, “Banquet”, “This Modern Love”, “Blue Light”, “So Here We Are”, “Hunting For Witches”, “I Still Remember”, “Sunday”, “Signs”, “Biko”, and “Ion Square” to name several.

But “The Healing” was love prima facie. A slate wiped clean, with a fond remembrance of what came before and peace for whatever will follow.

 

2. a) Robbie Williams – Candy

The King is back. “Candy” is the catchiest song he’s ever done. In a vast sea of amazing contenders, it’s the best pop song of the year. A joyous, romp of pomp and circumstance, a wily, wonderful worm of a dance. It’s so arresting, the first 50 DJs to play the song are still serving time. It’s so sugary, Wilford Brimley’s Diabeetus can’t go within 500 miles of the track without losing a foot. It’s a mammoth comeback tune, like an iPod resurrected from a Zune. From the opening playful sax bellowing through the addictive cymbal game of hide-and-seek to the brass flourishes at the end, “Candy” slays. Jacknife Lee’s production is impeccable, and Gary Barlow’s music is astoundingly seductive. Gary Barlow (“who?” to 99.8% of North Americans I’m sure) is one of the best pop maestros of the past 20 years. He has an uncanny gift for melody.

Upon first hearing “Candy”, I was gobsmacked, not having expected anything remotely this strong to come from Robbie’s mouth again. Not now anyhow. I thought his days of “wanting it” were far in the rearview mirror. But there burned embers in Robert Peter Williams’ soul — he still had it, he was just sitting on it. I hope to Hades this is the beginning of another great Robbie run. The best entertainer of the past 20 years is back. Life is good.

 

2. b) Maximo Park – The Undercurrents

It’s downright criminal that the video for “The Undercurrents” has less than 20k views on Youtube since its release in late September; I’m also miffed that the song hasn’t received more attention. It’s probably the best song the always (and I really mean always) consistent Maximo Park have ever done. Its melody is breathtaking. The hooks are beyond plentiful. The emotional heft of Paul Smith’s voice, as he sings lines like “we both have a lot on ow-er plate, somehow the walk was worth the wait,” is weightier than a walrus wearing a woolly mammoth. Maximo Park are a truly special band, mixing heartfelt lyrical sincerity with a phenomenal understanding of songcraft and pop structuring. I wish more of the world would see that, and hear this song, but if it’s destined to be forgotten by the masses, I’ll never forget it. I’ll keep it close, forever an electrical charge, coursing through, living in, my undercurrents.

 

1. a) The Helio Sequence – October

I have a confession to make. I had anxiously waited four years for The Helio Sequence’s fifth LP, Negotiations, the follow up to the staggeringly brilliant Keep Your Eyes Ahead. I was beyond excited for it. And when I finally got my hands on it, I listened to it for a bit, liked it, and put it aside. I suppose I wanted to listen to something else at the time. I am but a fool with follies for all to see.

Then, on a damp, dark November night, I discovered “October”. The Helio Sequence were playing at The Horseshoe Tavern, and after a stellar set by Ramona Falls, The Helio Sequence came on stage, and I recalled, from the first note, why I fell in love with the band in the first place. They are without question, one of the best live bands on the planet. Brandon Summers’ croon is often hypnotizing, and Benjamin Weikel is flat-out, the best drummer I’ve ever seen live, and probably on the short list for best drummers on the planet. They had me capitulating to every song; “Downward Spiral”, “One More Time”, and “December” were new songs that sounded fantastic and resonated with me deeply, while “Hallelujah” and “Keep Your Eyes Ahead” — two of my favourite songs of all-time (yes, like, ever) — temporarily eviscerated me. And then there was “October”.

Opening with a light guitar line, the song gradually builds, adding drums, synths, backing vocals, and several other lovely, lush, laudable layers. And then, the climax. Led by a carefully side-stepping, shimmering guitar riff that quite frankly, weeks later, still has me in tatters, shattered by its liquidity, fundamentally, unequivocally, matter.

“Keep Your Eyes Ahead” and (especially) “Hallelujah” were and remain epic, hymnal blessings. They were both irrefutably immediate. “October” is different. And perhaps that’s why it took me a little while to wallow in its wonder. There’s an august autumn feel to “October”, a slightly sullen, moderately melancholic mood that’s juxtaposed by an unflinching hope — the kind of hope that isn’t fuelled by prayer or faith, but of listening, patience, openness.

Brandon Summers sings, “there will be a next time.” I hope so. The weeks will pass, and they’ll turn into months, years even. There will be other Octobers. But there’s only one “October”.

 

1. b) Yeasayer – Henrietta

Yeasayer are reflective of modern music, throwing everything and the kitchen sink and the dinette set and the floor boards and the armoire and the cat into the production, issuing a fractured amalgam of the sounds and styles we find on the airwaves, from different frequencies, in our minds. This fractured approach is what makes them beyond compare, and unfortunately, also what limits the scale of their audience. To be frank though, I don’t think they’re interested in such lilliputian things like how many people dig their records. I think they have their sights on something bigger than all-encompassing, pop culture domination. They have their eyes set on transcendence, and on “Henrietta”, they’ve found it.

Yeasayer’s “Madder Red” was my favourite song of 2010. It was infallibly catchy, a pop masterpiece (inasmuch as Yeasayer do “pop”), a hymn to a higher power. “Henrietta” is quite different. It comes from the same parents, but it’s less overtly poppy, less designed to catch, and it’s more vulnerable, compassionate, wiser, more spiritual even. It’s a song with two distinct halves, the first being the progenitor, the hook-carrier, replete with pulsating, accordion-style shuffling synths, buoyed by a huge beat and a bearish, beyond funky bassline. The second part is, well, the transporter

From 1:45 to 3:16, exploration breeds discovery — the discovery of a new dimension, a new time, a new force. It’s a beautiful, coruscating new realm, but it must be approached with caution, care, and calm, for it is not certain what lies ahead.

From 3:17 on, the exsanguination takes place. Miraculously though, there is no pain. Physical manifestations of existence are not necessary — no bodies, no blood, no space. There’s just soul, expression, energy. There’s just “Henrietta”. There just is.