Day one of Canadian Music Week included oldies-but-goodies and an exciting collab that didn’t match the energy of the openers.
DANIEL LANOIS at the Horseshoe, Friday, May 1. Rating: NNN
Daniel Lanois’s Horseshoe set was all sweet tone and f-bombs.
No surprise that the legendary producer/multi-instrumentalist and his band had superb sound – warm, dramatic, full – as they eased through polyrhythmic electronic numbers, folkier French-language songs (like Jolie Louise from his 1989 debut), slowly building ambient instrumentals from 2014’s Flesh And Machine and even some dub.
He’d played with a 65-piece orchestra at the NAC in Ottawa the night before – “but I think I prefer the ’Shoe,” the potty-mouthed Lanois told the large crowd. (To big cheers, of course.)
CARLA GILLIS
Photo credit: Matt Williams
TUXEDO at Tattoo, Friday, May 1. Rating: NNN
Mayer Hawthorne and Jake One’s headlining DJ set at Tattoo was very much along the lines of the music they make together as Tuxedo on their self-titled debut album: a subtly contemporized take on uptempo 80s R&B and late disco.
Hawthorne occasionally took to the mic to croon along whenever they dropped one of their own songs, which was fun, but unfortunately they couldn’t match the insanely high energy of fellow Stones Throw labelmates Peanut Butter Wolf and J-Rocc’s superb warm-up set.
BENJAMIN BOLES
Photo credit: Matt Williams
THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN at the Phoenix, Friday, May 1. Rating: NNNN
When the Jesus and Mary Chain first released Psychocandy in 1985, the Scottish band’s live shows were fuelled by drugs, alcohol and chaos. For its 30th anniversary, JAMC ditched the drama and performed a polished rendering of that seminal debut album from start to finish to a sold-out Phoenix.
But first, they played a short best-of set, including the pop masterpieces April Skies and Some Candy Talking before setting the mood for the rest of the evening with the distortion-heavy Reverence.
They were dead-on as they whipped through Psychocandy’s 14 tracks, lead singer Jim Reid looking thoroughly bored the whole time. That didn’t affect the ecstatic crowd, which included everyone from head-bangin’ youngins born decades after the album’s release to middle-agers elated they could get a babysitter until midnight.
And when a roadie threw a handful of set lists into the crowd at the end of the night, the disparate groups merged as they dove for souvenirs. SAMANTHA EDWARDS