The taste of live music is a blueberry canned cider and a double gin and seven. My partner has been gigging more which, for me, means more live music. More bands. Combined with my mixed drink tonight is a 5 dollar pre-roll and a lush blanket of sounds.
Fall is shoegazey; it wraps its arms around you and cradles you in dubby harmonies. Its buzz eases you into deep relaxation. Like a prayer, a meditative state. In the voices of instruments and the tones in ones voice are honest thoughts and truthful messages. The growl of the bass amp, the shriek of a guitar.
In the past few days there have been two Toronto based bands whose performances helped me escape the drab reality that is now. The first was at ROM After Dark, the event was sold out and under the towering display dinosaur bones stood groups of costumed friends, couples and strangers. The ceilings reached high and if you needed a drink or to pee you’d have to comb through a sea of fairies, firefighters and rare pokemon to get there.
Mother Tongues, drew the crowd forward and we pulsed, satiated by the deep melodies sung by the band members. The lead guitarists both ripped through attempts at conversation and demanded all ears. People trickled down from the above floors and filled the main hall.
My partner and I spoke with Lucas, one of the guitarists from the band, shortly after their second set and asked about the songs they performed. Some are off of their existing EP, titled Everything You Wanted and some are from their new record, which I believe it’s still in the works.
Definitely keep your eyes on Mother Tongues. If you see them on a bill, just don’t hesitate.
The second band is called Burs, they played at the Monarch Tavern the night before Halloween. Like Mother Tongues, this was my first experience of the band live; this show was special, dating exactly a month after the release of their first Album titled Holding Patterns.
Most of the crowd was out having a smoke when their set began; the lead singer’s voice drew us all back in. She was fierce and soft at the same time and as we gathered around the stage, Burs chemistry warmed the room. I was glued to my spot and felt like a single stitch in the quilt that was the audience, laid out over the old glossy wood flooring.
After the lights came up and the music cut out, I stood in front of the stage deliberating between merch shirts. Lauren, who’s also a visual and tattoo artist, held up a hand bleached maroon crew neck shirt with imprints of plant pieces; she listed each plant present. By now, the only one I can recall her mentioning is the tomato plant; looking down at it now, I see the imprint of the little cherries and the stem that connects them.
Later, my partner showed me a video he took of Devon, the bassist, throwing down his guitar after the last song; I’d heard him do it but unfortunately didn’t see it in real time— cuz I’m short!