... is not a fan of performance enhancing drugs in sports

Recently the almost-as-smart-and-handsome-as-I-am Don Mills (who is the new hottest area in Bippity Town) posted an interesting meditation on his blog about legalizing performance enhancing drugs. The argument is not really a new one, and I've though about it before. While I can't disagree and think that such a time will come very soon, I find I also can't fully agree in my heart of hearts and hope that it never comes to pass.

 It boils down to "Everyone else is doing it, so why can't we?".

First of all, that attitude shares a line with a Cranberries album, and they sucked.

Joking apart, it is a compelling argument. It's also a tad cynical. It would be like U2 saying "Well, the Cranberries (just to close the loop - ed) have that whole Irish/Spiritual demographic all wrapped up, and they're much younger, so we'll just stop." This may not have been a bad idea, though...

Yes, we do put an expectation on athletes to be superhuman, and we also expect records to fall to the point where we wilfully ignore the fact that, oh I dunno, a pool was designed with different standards to other pools so that athletes could swim faster *CoughPHELPSCough*, or that someone was able to be at the death's door and come back and be even better and more litigious than he was before (I don't wear any bracelets of any color because of this). Having said that, I don't consider those records tainted: there is more to cycling, swimming, and baseball than brute strength.

But at the same time, we also expect athletes to be like anyone else who has devoted their life to their craft: single-minded and driven to achieve on their own merits. Sure, The Edge could have gotten the same sound by playing one chord and looping it and then going for a Guinness, but he didn't. (Well, maybe on Pop, but that ended in tears). Dan Brown's books are written to such a restrictive formula that they could be composed using a mail merge. Sampling in hip-hop used to be subtle, an homage if you will. Now Diddy, Flo Rida, and numerous others rap over an existing song. Hillary Duff (how in the heck did I get here?) has taken "Personal Jesus" and just had the chorus rewritten so that it's "Reach out and touch me", removing the context of the song and reducing it to just a hook.

Why am I comparing pulp/pop to athlete's using performance enhancing drugs? Because both are expressions of a person's development of their talent or natural ability. Achieving anything is a test of a man's or woman's ability to invest the time and energy to the development of their skill.

So how does this preclude using performance-enhancing drugs? For the simple reason that we, as humans, tend to not trust shortcuts. Hillary Duff simply using "Personal Jesus" as a backing track to her song doesn't mean she's not a good singer, but it does mean that we really can't take her achievements seriously. Dan Brown still has to come up with a compelling plot and tension so that people will keep turning the pages of his books, but they'll never really be seen beyond pulp so long as he sticks to his formula. At the risk of going all Ayn Rand here, we expect our athletes, our artists, our engineers, anyone to excel in their field because of a natural talent developed through will and training, which in turn  impresses us and inspires us to do the same.  Maybe I'm more Salieri: I want the success of Alex Rodriguez to be g-d mocking me, and not the result of an injection that I could have taken as well.

Is this naive? Yes, yes it is. Will publishing this on every lamppost in the world change attitudes, no. Is it too much to expect? I hope not. But like I said when I started, I think it's just a matter of time until we get to a place where performance enhancing drugs in sports are de rigeur, and we'll get used to it and wonder how it could have been any other way before, like sampling. Even this, it will never take away the memories I have of Pete Rose getting where he did as a player by sheer force of will.

Don wrote a great article, but he missed the strongest point: If the Nationals did buy performance-enhancing drugs then they should be permitted in sport as they obviously have no impact on the outcome of the game.

... recomending Friday Night Comedy

So a few weeks ago I recommended Wait Wait Don't Tell Me in the first of my series of podcasts you should download. I promised more, and like a democratically elected politician I keep my promises...when I remember them or desperately need some press.

(And say what you want about democratically elected politicians, I've never had the feeling that Hugo Chavez has a subtext: it's pretty much all out there in the open.)

Wait Wait Don't Tell Me is an American version of the old British stand-by: the panel show. The Brits have a long history of these shows, a few comedians and writers, who under the guise of competing in a quiz show basically riff on politics and culture. And there are brilliant variations on the theme like Never Mind the Buzzcocks (music) They Think It's All Over (sports) and QI (Stephen Fry's deliberately difficult and complex gameshow).

Also prevalent in British comedy is the tradition of the aggrieved rant. The British engagement in their political process, media saturation at all levels, and dry humour have created a cottage industry of comedians who take observational humour and raise it to the level of a manifesto. North American humour is more punchline based, while British humour is based on the joke's placement in a complex class structure where you are encouraged to aspire for better but know that you probably won't get it. Basically it's the difference between a millennium of monarchy and 200 years of elections.

BBC Radio 4 runs a great series of these on Friday nights. They rotate two very different but very funny shows and have made these available as podcasts under the banner of "Friday Night Comedy".

The first of these is The News Quiz, which is pretty much all the description you need. Sandi Toksvig is the host (or chair) who quizzes two teams of two comedians/writers/performers on the week's events. The questions are normally punny and almost incomprehensible, but they're just jumping off points for the panelists to explain the event, and mock it for a bit.

The real genius of the show comes in the interaction between the panelists as they talk about the story. They're not trying to one up each other, but make their own points in as funny as way possible. As opposed to listening to a group of people in a joke telling competition (which is what things like Best Week Ever and Video on Trial are) it's more like listening to a comedy guitar pull. An excellent example was one week when discussion bees and the waggle dance they use to communicate where honey is and one panelist chimed in with "Yes, it's very complex and elaborate form of communication from an animal that is unable to simply say 'There's honey over here, follow me!'"

Additionally, each round begins with a selection of funny stories and quotes from newspapers and magazines. These aren't just typos and double ententes, but sometimes truly baffling stories, such as the Church bulletin that had a simple note in the middle of all the other entries: regarding a rocket launcher, or my personal favorite "Sainsbury's is pleased to offer chocolate dipped strawberries. These are perfect for Valentine's Day. Expiration date: Feb 11th". It's like Jay Leno, only funny.

Like most British programmes, The News Quiz only runs for a short amount of time (six weeks) before taking a break (a brilliant system, by the way). The next six weeks are given over to a more topical sketch/monologue show called The Now Show, which features Hugh Punt and Steve Dennis (of The Mary Whitehouse Experience) and a rotating band of comedians and musicians.

The format of the show is pretty much the same every week: Punt and Dennis do a monologue about a couple of the main stories of the week, with interjections and little sketches by the other performers complimenting their points. Then Mitch Benn does a parody song about another event, then a monologue/aggrieved from a guest, another Punt and Dennis monologue/sketch, another song from Benn, and then audience answers (before the show the audience is asked a question, and the funniest answers are read back at the end). It's a formula that allows them to cover a number of topics quickly and with a laser like focus: imagine Weekend Update, but instead of a segment it's just a really good Really? With Seth and Amy featuring the guest host and musical act.

Like most sketch shows The NOW Show relies a lot on running gags. Sometimes a variation on a joke will be repeated during the entire 6 week run (recently it was a letter from an aggrieved tourist who did not know there were going to be fish in ocean...and having lived in Barbados for three years I can confirm that such people actually do exist). As well, they tend to reference jokes from earlier in their career, like this brilliant dissection of conventions in World War II movies (and also explores the difference between North American and UK attitudes in storytelling)



Because of this it's not as accessible as The News Quiz, and will often require a bit of Googling if you're not keeping up on UK news. But these are comedians on the top of their game and even if you don't get all the jokes, you can admire what they're doing.

So, if you downloaded Wait Wait, or already listen to it and think you need comedy with an accent, I recommend firing up iTunes and subscribing to the Friday Night Comedy podcast from Radio 4.

... back after seeing The National at Kool Haus.

The National are...

Well, this is kinda what The National sound like.



I've been trying to find a way to say what they are. They had a slight country twinge to them in the early days, but it was more of a Matthew Sweet country sound than No Depression - it's an accent, not a language. You could say that there's a little bit of Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen in them, but that doesn't really do them justice either. I think the best way to put it is that The National sound like what a band called "The National" would sound like.

I had been looking forward to this show for a long time. The National are not huge. They are talked about in certain circles and passed around, acting like a shibboleth that gives a little more credence to the speaker. I know only two people who saw them live before. I saw only a little bit of a performance on Letterman. That was it. Since they sounded like no-one else that I had ever seen live (at least in a club), I had no frame of reference, no way to say "This should be a show like..."

Playing against a wall of tinsel-like streamers, The National gave their first real concert of 2009, as they told the crowd a few times. Some of the rust was evident: the set didn't flow, didn't feel like it had been road tested. There were a few missed cues and some awkward changes.

On the other hand, The National play a tight, no frills set - they have nothing to prove because it's in the music. There's a light show, enhanced by the tinsel backing, but it's deceptively simple. They merely walks out on stage, no fanfare, pick up their instruments and play. The band, which included a three piece brass section and a keyboardist, might be one of the best bands playing right now in American music, rivaling the current incarnation of Wilco.

Like Wilco, there are also shambolic aspects of their performance, mostly courtesy of lead singer Matt Berninger. He began the night in control, understated like the rest of the band. As the show progressed he seemed to gather steam, shake off his rust, and start to really get into what he was doing, sometimes to the detriment of his performance - such as during the encore when he pretty much bought Kool Haus a new microphone.

This might be what make The National so hard to pigeonhole. They're a tight musical unit (and for my money, feature the best drummer in indie rock today in Bryan Devendorf who also seemed to do his own setup and check prior to their set), but they also swing. It's not a wild swing, but there's a confidence, a swagger that goes into their music: We know we're good, and we don't need to beat you into submission to prove it. Because of this there is a subtlety that can be lost when playing a club. Berninger then becomes the focal point. He carries the show, he projects the moods of the music to the crowd. It's music that needs to be LISTENED to, and he makes sure you're paying attention.

Kool Haus still remains one of the most annoying places to see a concert. I don't think they have the air conditioner on yet, and it's the hardest building in the city to get out of. There's no reason after the renovations they could not have either put in an overflow exit in the back, or fix it so that the main entrance didn't funnel everyone though three standard-sized doors.

The crowd was mostly True Believers since The National *AHEM* DON'T GET A LOT OF AIRPLAY HERE HINT HINT. However, I would like to say the following:

• There is a new category of concert goer: Stands with back to the band person. This person is more interested in chatting with their friends, and as such spends most of the night not really acknowledging the band. All conversations at a club should be like Kyra Sedgwick and Campbell Scott's conversation in Singles: Facing the band, just moving your head enough to acknowledge the person, and short.
• If you're going to come to a show and talk about how much you love each song while they are playing the song, do the following: stay home, plug your iPod into your high-fidelity, or hi-fi, system and then remove the plug a little bit. The sound will now have an airy quality that will actually pass for live. Now you and your friends can stay there and talk allllllllllllll night, and I'll be able to actually hear the song. Yes, I am talking to you, Iron-and-Wine-tshirt-guy-with-the-messenger-bag-and-two-high-pitched-girl-friends.
  

... wishing everyone a fun long weekend

This song sounds like summer to me, like when the sun comes out after a thunderstorm.

Somehow, I think I'm also the only person who got this album.

Have a great long weekend, kiddies!

... a music contrarian

You know me and, for the most part, you all love me. One thing you do know is that I'm a man of somewhat, shall we say, varied tastes. I see no problem living in a world where I can listen to Genesis, Husker Du, P-Funk, Joy Division, Elvis Costello, civil war era music, and the occasional pop track mixed in. I also like to think I'm a pretty big consumer of both pop culture and fine art. If it weren't assoholic to say so, I might actually say I was open minded.

*ahem*

But at the risk of going all Matlock-demographic on you, I gotta say there are some things I just don't get and which make me wanna shake my fist at world. A lot of people like them, but I've tried and tried and I just can't see the big deal.

Now, if there is ANOTHER thing you know about me, it's that I try to expose myself to those things I can't stand so I can try to understand my...displeasure. So for the next little bit, I'm going to share some of these as I try to figure out why I don't like these things.

I just want to say that I don't think these things are, for the most part, horrible and that people who like them have no taste (exception: Nickleback). How I really feel is summed up by a great Graham Parker line I can't see the point but I can see the attraction.

I'm putting an example of a video by each so that you can mock my squareness.

By the way, more people should listen to Graham Parker. More on that later.

Chapter Uno: A music contrarian.

1. Broken Social Scene/Feist/Metric

I'm lumping all of these in one category because of the interconnectedness of them. I know this puts me in a weird minority, but I just don't get the big deal. I hear a lot of serviceable pop tunes, but nothing that really inspires me in them. In a way they remind me about Tony Wilson's quip about jazz: "Jazz musicians enjoy themselves more than anyone listening to them does." I get that they all inspire each other and they all like to work together, but for me the sum of the whole is in no way equal to the sum of the parts. Maybe it has to do with seeing By Divine Right open for three different bands (Foo Fighters, BNL...and someone else, it might have been an Edgefest before they got stuck on suck...though not as much as V-Fest...where was I, oh yeah...) with three completely different sounds.

Fiest and Metric on their own always put me more in mind of other artists I'd rather listen to. Metric just make me want to listen to Blondie or Bloc Party, and something about the way Emily sings and goes la la la. Fiest...and her...well...

Okay...I DON'T GET FEIST! I admit it, I have NO IDEA what the attraction is. She has a weird camera compulsion that drives me batty, and her little girl whisper voice just makes me think that Chrissie Hynde died in vain (yes, I know she's still alive, I'm going for melodrama here). She just reminds me of all the people I knew in university who self-identified "I am a poet...I am a writer...I am a creator" and took themselves so seriously that they were unable to actually create good poetry or writing. Maybe I'm projecting on Fiest, but...no...I just don't get it.

2. Alexisonfire/City and Colour

This isn't quite fair. I love half of every Alexisonfire song. There's normally a very melodic, almost hardcore section to each that I quite enjoy. Rough Hands is a great example of this.

And then George Pettit opens his mouth and screams. People tell me there are clever lyrics in there, but I can't make them out. In a way, he reminds me of the guy in every high school band who had the van and a basement where they could practice, even though he had no real talent. I'm not saying the George has no talent, though I kinda am I guess.

So I should love City and Colour, right? No. There's a certain emotion Dallas Green's side project instills in me that can best be described as The earnest blandies. I know I SHOULD like, the songs are pretty enough, but I just can't be bothered to care in the end. Maybe it has to do with..

3. The Tragically Hip

...Gord Downie. (Man, there are a lot of Canadian bands here...this does not bode well, as it will give the mob gathering outside my home right now more ammunition) I used to be a HUGE Hip fan, but after a while I just got bored with them, just after Phantom Planet. After that point the songs just seemed more about building their mystique than actually being creative. (Also, I've ALWAYS been annoyed that they use the same metaphor - "Garbage bag trees" - on consecutive songs on Fully Completely. It just seems lazy.)

As for live: I've seen them a few times, and just....meh.

Having said all that, "Nautical Disaster" is one my fave songs of all time. Go figure. Let's listen it, shall we?

4. Nine Inch Nails

(Wow, someone not Canadian)

I admire Trent Reznor and what he's done for indie music and getting it out there. I just wish it was in service of something that wasn't so self-involved and boring. Yes, yes, I know I like Genesis so I lose the moral high ground here, but I've yet to hear a NiN song that didn't make my molars hurt. It's something about either the frequency of their music, or the key they play in.

Plus, they got, as the kids say today, pawneededed by The Man in Black

5. Billy Talent

The Edge loves these guys to the point where "conflict of interest" comes up (seeing as the lead singer was an intern there). Me, they remind me of Our Lady Peace: serviceable musicianship hampered by the most annoying singing voice. I keep hearing about how great they are, but it's just so very fetch.

6. Silversun Pickups

If I wanted to listen to Smashing Pumpkins, I would listen to Smashing Pumpkins.



You may commence the hating on of me.

...is remembering one of the first great videos he ever saw

The Alan Parsons Project are awesome.

Disagree? You're wrong.

Proof? Why yes, I have some right here.

... convinced that a Canadian team is NOT what the NHL needs.

There's a great moment in Joe vs the Volcano....

Okay, now that you've all recovered.

There's a great moment in Joe vs the Volcano where Dan Hayeda is having one of those one sided circular phone conversations we've all heard a boss having. The refrain of the conversation is "I know he can GET the job, but can he DO the job."

It's a very important designation that I remember thinking a lot of when I was looking for work, and also when I was interviewing people for jobs. We had a lot of great candidates who looked perfect, had all the skills, but really didn't add any value and in some cases were actually detrimental to our department. I always try to ask myself that question so that I can make sure that the descision I'm going to make goes beyond simply meeting an immediate need, and that it benefits more than just one or two people.

For the second time in as many years, one of the struggling NHL franchises is up for sale, and Jim Balsillie is in talks to buy them and move them to Hamilton or Kitchener-Waterloo. NHL commissioner Gary Bettman is trying to block the sale to Balsillie. And of course the people of Canada, including allegedly rational people in politics and newspapers, are all over themselves about the prospect of another team in South/Central Ontario.

And I STILL think this is a horrible, horrible idea.

Some background, which I may go into later in another post: I'm a recovering hockey fan. I used to follow it religiously, but the state of the game itself, the way it's run, and people's attitude towards it have led me to completely divorce myself from it. I follow my beloved baseball, and then basketball, and then Premier League Football. 

Canada, however, is hockey mad. In a way, the country never stopped being 12 years old. If the nation could be wallpapered, it would be in NHL approved logos. The mere mention of the sport sends many people into a kind of fugue that is at once impressive and scary. 

This is a hotbed of hockey. It would be like saying there shouldn't be a football team in Green Bay, or baseball in New York. The people are mad for the sport and would support the team. So why do I think moving a team here would be a bad move?

Putting a team in Hamilton, or Kitchener-Waterloo would net you exactly this many new fans: Zero. And I'm rounding up.

Sure, moving a team here would GET the job. It would be a hit. They'd sell out every game, and the merch would sell. But the ratings of Hockey Night in Canada, or any games on Vs or NBC would be the same, if not less in the last two cases. I don't think that the people aren't watching hockey in Hamilton are not watching it because there's no team there.

For good or for ill, Gary Bettman had one mandate: increase hockey's visibility in the US the way he did when he was with the NBA, which was another sport that was seen as regional. The way to do this was not to put another team in New York, but to put teams in places like Orlando, Miami, underrepresented areas where the sport could grow. Baseball and football expansion worked the same way also. Yes, basketball had the ultimate outlier in MJ, but hockey has its own stars in Crosby and Ovetchkin, who have pretty much failed to catch on in any non-hockey market.

People say that the problem is that Bettman ignored Canada and put teams into new areas that were not hockey friendly. Of course he did. That was his job. And if it meant that a few teams had to be moved from Canada to increase that visibility, so that a place like Colorado or Phoenix could get a team that was ready to compete and didn't have years of having to build up a reputation, than so be it. Everyone cried when Winnipeg lost its team and wants it to come back, but I don't see many stories about Hartford. "Oh, but they have Boston," people will say, and I'll say "Thank you for proving my point".

As well, there are still untapped markets in the States where hockey might still thrive:

1. Kansas City
2. Cincinnati
3. San Antonio
4. Cleveland
5. Milwaukee

The game is struggling in places like Phoenix and Nashville, but the league doesn't want to give up. Moving a team from a new region to an established one is giving up, and the story won't be "Canada gets a new team" but "Hockey continues to fail in the US, will always be a minor league". Bettman knows this. That's why he's blocking Balsillie's move. It's not because he hates Canada, but because he can't win playing that way. 

A new team in Canada can GET the job, but it can't DO the job.

... having lucid dreams about Franz Ferdinand

One thing that I got to experience on my recent trip to England was taking the train from London to Manchester and back. England is a small country, and is fairly densely populated. This means that it's a natural fit for rail travel between major, and minor, urban centres. It's not cheap to take the train, but there are ways to save a few pounds here and there if you plan it properly. Also, it's not too uncomfortable (the trains we took at least). Rail travel is a vital park of the fabric of the nation. 

In Canada, rail travel is pleasurable, but not at all comprehensive. There are great distances between stations, and even its coverage at that level is mediocre at best. There were trains every half hour from London to Manchester, and I could just buy a ticket and take most any train I'd want. I'd love to be able to regularly take a train to Montreal, but we're just not there yet.

I'm going somewhere, don't worry.

British bands can take advantage of this. When they're starting out they can travel from town to town and really hone their art. Once they get to that level, there's Europe right there, with more trains and buses and shorter distances between centres. A band can build up a base just touring around, playing gigs and little festivals and pretty much have a name for themselves and a honed live act before they've even put out a full length album. Look at Glasvegas, Friendly Fires, White Lies, and Florence and the Machine, all of which pretty much all hit the ground running when their LPs came out. Combine this with the British art school system and institutions like the Mercury Prize and you can start to understand why I have such a high level of Anglophilia in my music collection. (I cannot, for the life of me, explain the fascination with girl and boy groups in the UK. When I met Craig Gill, drummer from the Inspiral Carpets, in Manchester I wanted to ask why this was so, but felt like I would be picking at a wound).

This is the second time I've seen Franz Ferdinand. The first was a gig with TV on The Radio at the Ricoh Coliseum. This time was at the Kool Haus with Born Ruffians opening. Born Ruffians really exemplify the Canadian music experience: they are a great band with a fairly unique sound (think of it as a rawer Talking Heads, though I'm sure with some production Pitchfork will just call them 'Canadian Vampire Weekend', although this description is not apt), but their inexperience shows a little bit. Some of this might be the fact that they are in the opening band slot. The music is good, but the performance just isn't quite there yet.

Franz Ferdinand, however, know how to move a crowd. This was evident even when we saw them at the Ricoh. They have a live show that's full of energy and they know how to play to the crowd without being obsequious. Even with guitarist/keyboardist Nicholas McCarthy hobbled by a broken foot, the band still managed to convey a sense of abandon on the stage that then went through the crowd. The smaller venue of Kool Haus also suits Franz Ferdinand better, as they seem to get more out of a show where they can connect with their audience. Most bands do, but they seem to get a big kick out of their fans.

Musically, they have progressed a great deal. There was more experimentation and soloing in this show than in the previous one. They've incorporated more electronic elements into their sound but haven't become Bloc Party, just a slightly more hedonistic Maximo Park. At times the "jamming" did get a little self-indulgent, but they never approached Genesis levels.

That's not to say that the show was perfect. Each of their three albums was just about equally represented, but that also meant that some great songs got the short shift (The Fallen, for example, would have possibly blown the roof off the joint and even the mere mention ot Twilight Omens sent a ripple through the crowd). Maybe I've been spoiled by too many Pearl Jam concerts, but I like to think that once you have a few albums under your belt you can make the show time a little longer than you did on your first tour. (We had the same complaint about the last Kaiser Chiefs show). Adding a series of short films playing behind the band didn't really add anything either, though a pan of the band during some of their solos, including a little electronic ditty featuring both bands on stage, was nice.

Kool Haus as a venue is the very definition of love/hate: It has less than stellar sound, and getting in and out of it is a horror show. Last night was one of the first warm nights in Toronto, and nary a cooling fan was blowing. It could have been the heat from the crowd, but we were a good distance back and we were unseasonably warm. The crowd was a mix of true believers and tourists (explanation of those terms here), but there were a few hipsters, most of who seemed to be standing around me (Memo to guy in the Peter Bjorn and John t-shirt: you paid for the ticket, so stop acting like you're too cool to be there. If you're reading this, or one of your friends is, I know I'm blunt but I was THAT GUY for a while, and looking back I denied myself the chance to really enjoy some shows, and I know I adversely impacted the night of those around me when I acted like that).

Franz Ferdinand represent everything that I love about the recent crop of British indie bands. They are artistic without being self indulgent, ironic without being pandering, and danceable without being mindless. I did get the feeling that I could have had it so much better, but I'd still take it over an entire legion of what passes as indie music from this side of the pond.

... basking in the glory that is Bob Mould

I love Husker Du, I love Bob Mould, and I love Sugar. His approach to American punk, both as a musical form and his techniques in the studio, is nothing short of revolutionary.

Husker Du was loud fast and out of control and was never going to really cross over. But Sugar, his second group, was tight, focused, and really should have been HUGE. I always forget how good they were.

Here's "I Can't Change Your Mind:, from their first album Copper Blue. It's a great piece of pop but doesn't sell out anything. Should have been huge I tell ya, huge. But no...we got Collective Soul instead.