(I got the idea for this series while sifting through the ‘piles’ of digital photos on my laptop. It occurred to me to share some of these great pics from some of my favourite concert sets from time to time. Until I get around to the next one, I invite you to peruse my ever-growing list of concerts page.)
The Box live @ The Bronson Centre, September 2024
Artist: The Box When: September 27th, 2024 Where: Bronson Centre Music Theatre, Ottawa Context: I hummed and hawed about attending this show but am glad I decided to go in the end because The Bedouin Soundclash show that I had a ticket for in December got pushed to March and I had to sell my ticket for a January Slowdive show due to my ongoing health issues. So this was the last live show that I’ve seen for some time and what a doozy it was. Put on as part of local station, Boom 99.7’s Legends Weekend, the bill included 80s New Wave ‘legends’ Strange Advance, Images in Vogue, and these guys, Montreal’s The Box. I had always loved their tune “L’affaire dumoutier (say to me)” from back when I was a pre-teen and my AM radio-listening days. However, at some point during the pandemic, I decided to give the rest of their catalogue a listen after seeing a poster advertising a show by the band and found that I knew a lot more of their tunes than I realized. The only remaining original member from back in the day is frontman and driving force, Jean-Marc Pisapia but the rest of band is a gaggle of fantastic musicians that he put together when he decided to re-start performing as The Box back in the early 2000s. Given the length of the bill and the average age of the audience members, each act was only allotted a short set but The Box made the most of their time, blasting eight of their greatest and well-known hits, including the song already mentioned, “My dreams of you”, “Closer together”, and Cold War classic, “Ordinary people” (see below). Jean-Marc and his band were pure performers and crowd pleasers all the way through. And I found myself smiling and singing along with the rest of the crowd. Point of reference song: “Ordinary people”
Jean-Marc Pisapia with Isabelle LemayDan Volj on bassFrancois Bruneau on guitairsMartin Lapierre on drumsJean-Marc singin’ it
Well, folks, here we are at the precipice of a new year and I’m wrapping up the old one, crumpling it up like an off-scribbled on piece of foolscap, and jettisoning it in favour of new ideas… but not before celebrating my favourite piece of work that 2023 had to offer.
“Everything is alive”is Slowdive’s fifth studio album and second since re-forming back in 2014. Their original run spanned only six years from 1989 to 1995 but it was a prolific period resulting in 3 LPs, 5 EPs, and a handful of singles. The five players moved in different directions when they were dropped from Creation Records, a victim perhaps of the flagging shoegaze scene with which they were lumped, a flash fire that passed as quickly as it started. The lineup that performed on the group’s debut album – Neil Halstead, Rachel Goswell, Nick Chaplin, Chris Savill, and Simon Scott – announced a string of reunion shows nine years later and they’ve stuck together ever since then.
Slowdive has appeared a few times on these pages already, including placing number two with their triumphant return, the self-titled album, on this blog’s inaugural end of year, best albums list in 2017, and in pretty much every post I’ve referenced how I wasn’t super-enthused with them during their first go-round as a band. My attitude has, of course, changed and I now fully appreciate what they were doing back then and it goes with saying that I am completely enamoured with their new work.
“Everything is alive” got its start as many of Slowdive’s albums do, with principal songwriter Neil Halstead writing and demoing by himself. He had originally envisioned the album as more austere and electronic based. The recording sessions were then planned for the spring of 2020 but were in the end impacted and informed, as pretty much every album over the last three years has been, by the COVID-19 pandemic and resulting lockdowns. The recording of the album was pushed back and then spread out over various sessions and locations. But for the band, these were all joyous occasions when they finally happened, being the first time they had seen each in months and perhaps the first time they had seen people other than those with whom they were living for the same amount of time. This positivity likely informed the mood of the record and the original concepts for these songs were enlarged and expanded and became a representation of the band and their mood as a whole.
Indeed, “Everything is alive” is hopeful and joyful and full of life. It is eight songs that don’t want to be anywhere near darkness and solitude. It is five musicians and friends that have known each other a long time performing as one, familiar and familial, a large sound that can envelope and absorb and has room for everyone and everything. It is the album we needed, whether we knew it or not.
There is so much to love here that I wanted to pick all eight songs and run through each for you but in recognition that we’ve only got a few hours left to make 2023 brighter, I’ve managed to narrow down my picks for you to three.
“Alife“: Track three was the final single to be released in advance of the album and was the first one to be finished for it. It starts with a ringing and jangling guitar line and Rachel Goswell adds a set of vocals that are just as ethereal.”Two lives are hard lives with you.”And this is a theme that continues throughout, setting out a mysterious balance against Neil Halstead’s slightly more straightforward narrative. But really, it’s all just a whirlpool of sound and cyclical tones, a hint of relationship struggles, a blockage of communication, diverting wishes and dreams, he said, she said, a billion voices, all looking for love in this difficult life.
“The slab”: The climactic track on the album is very much that, dense and heavy and intense, its title perfectly describing the sound rather than hinting at a narrative. The intro is just over a minute and a half of pounding drums and guitars that fritter and sizzle in repetitive drones and underneath it all is something a bit ominous, washes of deep synths, like black curtains in a black room, ponderous and striking. When the vocals do come in, it’s like Halstead is allowing us in to a conversation already in progress but not quite completely opening the door. The words seem like they’re purposefully incomprehensible, just adding to the mystery and mood of the piece. And at the end of the five minutes, as the sound fades, you’re left bereft and just want to restart it but before you can stop yourself, you’re already flipping the disc back to side one.
“Kisses”: The first advance single from this amazing album is the closest thing to a pop single I’ve heard from the group in a very long time. Though it does feel upbeat and perhaps a little structured for Slowdive, it still is very much a chill vibe. The drums provide clarity in just one of the many layers of gauze and cobwebs, chiming guitars echo off into eternity and Halstead’s and Goswell’s harmonies flit and flirt on the surface of a million mirrors refracting in upon themselves.”I know you dream of snowfields, floating high above the trees, living for the new thing, sometimes the new won’t do.”It is a perfect sampling of the joy that the five-piece is looking to spread about here, drumming up memories previously lost, and forcing you to face them and appreciate the good and the bad and how they shaped everything that came after.
In case you missed the previous five posts, here is the rest of the list:
I trust you’ve all had a restful and joyous Christmas holiday, those who celebrate it anyway. Mine was spent with my wife and family, eating lots of good eats. My itinerary for Boxing Day today is to head out to support some independent record stores (avoiding the big shopping malls) and seeing if I can score some records at deal prices. But before I do, I thought I’d drop this little post here on my second favourite album of the year.
Ah yes, Blur.
The London-based quartet has seen a lot of mentions on these pages, appearing in a good number of my Best tunes lists, at least one Best albums list so far, and a special post highlighting my top five favourite tunes by the group. In every single post, I’ve mention that I’ve been a big fan of the group for years, inferring that I know their discography intimately. I saw them a couple of times in the early 90s, both on two separate legs of tours supporting 1994’s “Parklife”, and have often thought it would be great to see them again. So, yeah, I was quite excited when news broke late last year of plans for more live shows, an excitement that grew when a new studio album was also announced this spring, but as of yet, none of their shows have come close enough to my neck of the woods to be financially viable to procure tickets*.
I picked up a copy of Blur’s 9th album on vinyl the first chance I got, having only heard the first single, “The narcissist”. I figured that even if it wasn’t as good as their previous work that I would want it on my record shelves next to the rest of their albums. Luckily for me, “The ballad of Darren” is very good indeed, surprisingly so, and there’s no fear that it will become a dust collector. I’ve already put it through the paces a number of times on my turntable.
Written for the most part by frontman Damon Albarn while he was on tour with Gorillaz in 2022, it is considered by the group to be the most like their earlier work because it was recorded very much collaboratively as they did in their early days. For me, it is like a return to their Britpop haunts but viewed through the dusty and musty time machine windows. It is by far their shortest ever record but this doesn’t mean we feel short-changed. This is very much Blur but not a Blur we’ve heard before. They’ve reverted back from the art rock that has informed much of their last three and yet it hasn’t completely left the room. Indeed, “The ballad of Darren” feels like the culmination of everything Blur. It is a band playing music together and for themselves, loose and free from expectations and in so doing, exceeding them all.
This 9th album doesn’t feel like a climax, or like a swansong, and yet, if this does turn out to be the last Blur record, I don’t think we’d have any cause at all to complain. If you haven’t yet given it a chance, there’s ten great tracks here worth you time. If you’re still unsure, these three picks for you are a great representation of what you would find within.
“Goodbye Albert“: Track seven continues the trend that strings throughout, taking its cue from the album title, a mellower tone that didn’t frighten me at all. I’ve always loved Blur’s ballads and this one is typically Blur and so unlike a traditional ballad. The drumming is understated but complex, Dave Rowntree restraining himself but still putting on his stamp, while Alex James is doing the same with his heavy bass backbone. Graham Coxon plays guitar hero here yet again, dancing around the arpeggios one moment and flailing out grunge feedback the next. And Damon Albarn is seemingly realizing his pivotal moment, saying goodbye to what once was but hesitating with all the finality. “We crossed the world, we disappeared, and no one looks to see if we are coming back soon. I was not ready yet… Let it go.”
“Barbaric”: “I have lost the feeling that I thought I’d never lose. Now where am I going? At what cost, the feeling that I thought I’d never lose? It is barbaric.” If you thought it was all going to be mellow and low-key, this one proves it wrong. It’s peppy and catchy and quite jubilant despite obviously being about a surprise breakup at an inopportune time. James feels like the star with a bass line that bounces around and carries a lively presence and our wonderful drummer Coxon keeps pace with a nod of the head, a wink, and a jaunty smile. This one feels like a fan favourite in the making. Classic Blur and if it weren’t so late in the game, high hopes for future Blur.
“The narcissist”: As mentioned above, this is the one we all heard first and the one that convinced us all that “The ballad of Darren” would be an album worth our collective times. “I’ma shine a light in your eyes (in your eyes). You’ll probably shine it back on me, but I won’t fall this time. With Godspeed, I’ll heed the signs.” Though it sounds quite different, “The narcissist” reminds me a lot of their surprise single from 2012, “Under the westway“. It’s wistful and mature, looking back at what made Blur great but doing so with years of experience and the same amount of time to reflect on everything. It effortlessly fits alongside some of the band’s best work, getting deep into your bones and stuck in your head, and making you think about worth and existence and what’s waiting around the next corner. So, so, so, so good.
*And recent comments by Albarn suggesting it might be time wind up the group again make me think seeing them this time around is becoming increasingly unlikely.
We’ll be back in a handful of days with album #1. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
My (life in) music lists 