“This is it. We’re done. No more Anagram!”
Those words, spoken dryly and sardonically by bandleader Matt Mason as the first angular chords rang out on their swansong That’s A Wrap, were the closest Toronto-via-Oshawa garage-punks Anagram ever got to sentimentality on Friday night at the Silver Dollar.
Playing their final show ever, the beloved house party heroes ripped through a two-hour decade-spanning finale, featuring one-time member Christopher Sandes on keyboard for their older, more ominous material and stripping down to a lean four-piece for their sparser, more intense post-punk present.
But, beyond a heartfelt introduction by longtime champion Dan Burke, Anagram celebrated its demise by sheer force of playing, leaving its legacy enshrined in beer-soaked basement parties and dive bar blowouts.
Always averse to self-promotion, touring and media, the band now lives only in legend amongst its small, dedicated, local cult. Rumour has it vocalist Matt Mason and his nowhere-near-identical twin brother/guitarist Willy Mason will continue on in a new project, but it’s appropriate that Anagram went out in a cacophonous blast of glory, without dwelling either the past or the future.
Something must be in the air, as Anagram isn’t the only local band throwing in the towel. This Thursday, folk-rockers Forest City Lovers will play their final show at the Great Hall before putting the project on “indefinite hiatus”.
In a blog post on the band’s official site, singer/songwriter Kat Burns explains that the decision is mostly based on logistics. Her bandmates are devoting themselves to school, work and music – a new project called House League, as well as ongoing work in the Cry Break and Timber Timbre.
Burns herself will continue to release music under the name KASHKA, and is working on a pop record with Ohbijou drummer James Bunton (who also collaborated with Gentleman Reg for the electro project Light Fires).
“If there is something that everyone should attempt,” she writes. “It’s try and make a go of your passion. It will be hard, discouraging at times, but if you love what you do you’ll die a happy person (eternally fulfilled even if you wind up broke).”
Coming at the same grudging conclusion by way of much more bittersweet reasoning, AIDS Wolf nonetheless reflect the same sentiment.
The Montreal experimental noise band play their final show May 15 at the Garrison, and judging by this long essay penned by lead singer Chloe Lum, it won’t be an entirely fond farewell.
Lum touches on the harsh economic realities of being an experimental band, the mainstreaming and subsequent disappearance of the rock underground and the often-disturbing sexism she encountered as a female musician. It’s lengthy and often cynical, but her essay really is worth the read. As the comments on this Exclaim news-piece attest, they’re still clearly one of the most divisive bands in Canada.
