There are few less enticing social media neologisms than a “tweetup”, but for the promise of free beer and music at my own hotel after three long days riding along in The Darcys’ tour van I would gladly check in, wall post, re-blog or telegraph anything asked of me.
And that was how I found myself surrounded by iPhones in the conference room of the Citadel Hotel in Halifax Friday night, beginning my delayed Halifax Pop Explosion festival at an event put on by Toronto publicity firm, Audio Blood Media.
Alas, Molson’s exclusive festival sponsorship deal apparently doesn’t include freebies (and also regrettably restricts access to local Halifax brews at most bars) and the hushed acoustic folk of Montreal’s Charlotte Cornfield was a bit too low key, so I escaped to seek out something a bit more official.
Now in its 19th year, Halifax Pop Explosion has built up a reputation that rivals similar Canadian street-level venue-hopping music festivals like Toronto’s NXNE and Pop Montreal, and beyond the high concentration of bars, that’s due in a large part to the adept mix of high profile touring acts and quality east coasters, often sharing the same stage.
That’s likely how Halifax’s Duzheknew found its way onto the stage of the stately St. Matthews United Church for an early set. With a herky-jerky art-rock aesthetic that borrows from the Talking Heads, the local trio seems better fitted to art galleries and basement shows, but they managed to hold the crowd’s attention with their off-kilter damaged yelp-pop. With all due respect to Duzheknew, though, the endless queue outside the church was more likely owed to Montreal’s Timber Timbre, whose sublime gothic folk perfectly fits the environment.
That didn’t keep me from bolting over to the narrow cave-like Tribeca for an intimate “secret” set by New Jersey’s Titus Andronicus. Like many of their Jersey peers, the band is often aims for fist-pumping chant-along choruses and isn’t afraid to ham it up, Springsteen style. It wasn’t long before frontman Patrick Stickles was drenched in sweat, but the band seemed to be expending a lot more energy than the fans.
At least they were until one intrepid fan tried to single-handedly get something started in the front row, a move that Stickles correctly categorized as “the most one-sided mosh pit ever.” Still, there was an unmistakable smattering of boos when Stickles was forced to cut the set short for “a DJ night or whatever,” a common festival impediment for a bar trying to make a buck.
So, it was up to the north end of Halifax where I settled into Gus’ Pub, a character-filled dive that seemed to be the gathering place for the more in-the-know music fans. It was there that I stumbled upon The Skeletones Four, a band that resides in Toronto but that I somehow had to travel to Halifax to discover. The quartet blended fuzzy ‘60s garage pop with self-consciously “spooky” vocal harmonies and prog structures, and brought it all together with a strong sense of groove. It doesn’t seem like it would work on paper, but it was seamless on stage. Definitely a band to keep your eye on.
Halifax music-lovers have been keeping their eyes on Dog Day for at least half a a decade. And though they never blew up like they threatened to, and recently slimmed down from a four-piece to a two-piece, they’re still obviously heroes at home. They earned a rare festival encore, one that saw singer/guitarist Seth Smith play guitar while crowd surfing and simultaneously “walking” upside down on the low ceiling. Only in Halifax.
