Sled Island 2016 Festival Recap
22-25 June 2016
By Christine Leonard
Sled Island 2016 Day One Recap
June 22, 2016
HexRay, N3K, Blü Shorts, Technical Kidman, Physical Copies, Mitchmatic, ESG – #1 Legion
Once the all-ages crowd at John Dutton Theatre (see below) had turned into pumpkins, we sauntered over to the #1 Legion to lay eyes on HexRay. The sprawling beerhall was transformed into Calgary’s biggest bedroom as the dreamy denim-and-flannel trio projected their awkward poetics and petulant drum rolls at a steady, unhurried pace. Apple-pie sweet vocal harmonies and intimate country-folk interludes progressing towards an eight-minute-long boogie-fied ballad that evoked visions of undulating amber waves of grain and malt liquor. (CL)
The band that closed-out the Republik following the final day pig roast of Sled 2015, fabu-drone outfit Technical Kidman of Montreal always provides a breath of fresh air. Heavy on the bass, the dueling ultrasonic synths soon has the crowd enthralled. Clashing with convention, the threesome poured forth an electrifying audio smoke-show fit to give you a serious case of the vapours. Pulling angular, if not dispassionate, creations from a cold and unforgiving gridlock of electronic, ambient, dance, and noize, Technical Kidman ensnared the masses with an opaque opiate hum of cycling heartbeats and twisted tom-toms. (CL)
Edmontonian weird-boys, Physical Copies, proved themselves to be genuine replicas of some of the most original artists in the annals of modern music. A twonky, garage-raised, Devo sleeper-cell, with a penchant for laser blasts and neon pulses, Physical Copies is what happens when members of Shout Out Out Out Out sit too close to the screen (in a house where the television’s always on). Add the melodic accompaniment, and on-point jazzercising, of to-die-for guest vocalist Marlaena Moore and you have the makings of an all-star ‘80s club that can go straight on till breakfast. (CL)
A-Bomb, Chron Goblin – John Dutton Theatre (Central Library)
Next up, veterans Chron Goblin, freshly returned from a tour through Europe, took to the stage. The band’s guitarist Darty declared that A-Bomb “just shreds,” before elucidating that Chron Goblin’s core audience is largely comprised of “45-year-old guys with tattoos.” Proving that age ain’t nothing but a number, Chron Goblin’s second all-ages show ever struck a chord with young upstarts who threw out requests for oldies like “Come Undone,” while attempting to stage-dive to ribald cuts from the band’s latest album, Backwater. The movie theatre-like interior of the Dutton added a surreal touch to watching the strapping rock quartet; but certainly, the next best aspect of partying down in the library was being in the mossssshhhhh pit. (CL)
Sled Island 2016 Day Two Recap
June 23, 2016
Blü Shorts, The Avulsions, Shearing Pinx, Burro, Empty Heads, Crosss, The Zorgs – Palomino
It was an occasion for short shorts and azure lips, and anything but hypothermic. Thursday evening at The Palomino Smokehouse. The vitriolic thrum and strum of Blü Shorts kick-started attendees with staggered progressions and concentrated bursts of cobalt energy. Driven into the psych-rock wilderness like devil-dogs pursued by a big orange fender on a bender, their hiccup-ping coyote yelps and proto-jazz-punk drumming (worthy of Sled 2015 guests The Ex) wrung a collective sigh of “OMG!” from the devoted upon completion.
The Avulsions of Saskatoon, SK lived up to their deadly reputation by answering the age-old question regarding for whom the bell tolls. Cloaking the above-grade revelries in a gothic veil, the trio radiated ancient dirges reminiscent of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor, with lyrics furnished in the form of sobering epithets. The atmospheric barrage of dark drama and unquiet insistence had a roomful of willing converts lingering long in The Avulsions ominous shadow.
Heavy on the bangs, Vancouver, BC’s Shearing Pinx launched a sensory attack with a zig-zagging ethos that might have benefitted poor Rickon Stark. Shedding any stage-shyness around the 20-minute mark, their ear-popping plunges and hairpin turns signaled that each song was going to be a race to an abrupt finish. A garage band that’s just ballsy enough to drag Dad’s favourite lounger into their “carriage house,” Shearing Pinx’s brazen charms anesthetized the basement dancefloor into tangoing with danger incarnate.
*Thanks to The Palomino staff for always slinging pints of ice water with their customary smiles. And kudos to CJSW for those handy earplug vending machines, a real lifesaver!
Continuing the underground rodeo, the cryptic rumination of Calgary’s Burro amped-up the psychic interference fields; filling every inch of available airspace with the rising tide of their cosmic swell. Eyes were closed and minds blown open as Burro leaned into the solar winds, seamlessly dovetailing one marauding motion into the next.
A shaggy, but firm, nod of approval to Empty Heads, who extended an unexpected pleasure that brought the audience schooling to the surface; aka upstairs at The Palomino Smokehouse. The modest hulk of a lead singer's voice was perfectly attuned to the rolling guitars, yet demanded to be drowned in a crushing surf of pyroclastic Mudhoney.
Downstairs, the long slide into Dante’s inferno continued. There was no escaping the fearful symmetry of Montreal’s Crosss, who’s anemia-inducing demon-metal commanded full attention. Sinister drills and echoing vocals had the crowd locked in Crosss’s be-hooded thrall as the doomy distillations rained down like a Sabbath-esque summer thunderstorm straight-outta Witch Mountain.
While reposed at the LRT train platform directly across from the venue, the petulant punk-rawk of The Zorgs could be heard battering the bricks and mortar of Stephen’s Avenue. The fun-lovin’ Winnipegger’s sardonic war-cry blasted into a night sky illuminated by a rainbow-bathed Calgary Tower. “How many fucks do I give?” Well, apparently one. I have to be at work on Friday morning. (CL)
Sled Island 2016 Day Three Recap
June 24, 2016
Chieftain, Anion, Witchstone, Advances – Bamboo
Calgary’s resident axe-swingers Chieftain brought the PIB (people in black) out of the woodwork and in from the rain on Friday afternoon. The sky’s stormy glow was simulating a fittingly nocturnal mood for a showcase presented by ‘Stoner Rock Guy’ at the Bamboo.
Those lucky enough to cut off work early were eager to soak up their massive metal surges as Chieftain grabbed on to heap-big riffs and proceeded to gnaw them like a dog with a bone. Their devastating performance definitely established an uber-heavy tone and decibel level for a session that leaned more towards black hash blade-hoots than blueberry rolling papers.
Their avuncular wet coast relations, Vancouver, BC’s Anion revived a rather sodden crowd with their Panzer tan subtlety and careening onslaughts. The lead-singer worked the annoyingly-congested boxcar of a floor amidst hard scrambles and lush, nigh-organic volleys, facing into the roaring tempest of his own making.
Calgarian chrysalis, Witchstone put on an impressive display of skills and artistic sensibility; who can blame them for strutting the fact that they’ve undergone more growth in a six-month period than most bands in their field-of-vision. Interweaving an amalgam of genres into their customary acid-metal architecture, Witchstone teased out melodic and riff-propelled elements with creepy tentacles of bilious acrimony. The finishing blow, a track from their latest album, plainly translated as: “You don’t know me. But you will!” (CL)
War Baby, Numenorean, Shooting Guns, SubRosa – Palomino
Have you ever fantasized about being a member of the Fellowship of the Ring? Numenorean has your bindle packed! Honouring the Old Gods with their smooth yet many-textured soundscapes, each song entails an epic journey through perilous peaks and horrific chasms. Their impressive lupine shrieks and lumbering plotlines left the mesmerized and admiring audience in a cold sweat.
Hauling axel from Saskatoon, SK, the summer’s favourite road trip soundtrack band, Shooting Guns screeched into town in a puff of smoke and minus one keyboardist, Toby, who got “hung-up in Chicago.” Losing the high-end of their string-heavy ensemble resulted in a flatter-than-usual sound for the already plateau-sighted highwaymen. Their intuitive biorhythms still scratched that stoner rock itch, pulling off a straight-forward and easily accessible set that ranged from low-fi CB-jamming frequencies to feistier headnodders. It should be interesting to see what they sound like at the Upstairs at the #1 Legion on Saturday night, once their accompanists and his magic-fingers get to town!
Rounding out the rain-dampened evening’s entertainment, a much-anticipated performance by Utah’s graceful doomsters SubRosa warmed the room like a blazing hearth. The sizeable and visually stunning orchestra amicably squeezed onto the stage with just enough elbow room remaining for their potent twin violinists to unleash a Pandora’s Box of gothic symphonics. Remember those friends who had to go straight to music lessons after school? Well, rejoice in the knowledge that SubRosa’s evocative neo-classical take on heavy metal is but one possible outcome of gaining a formal musical education that their parents didn’t anticipate! (CL)
Sled Island 2016 Day Four Recap
June 25, 2016
Shooting Guns, Chieftain, Wilt, Numenorean, Deafheaven – #1 Legion
Once again reunited with their keyboardist, Toby, who arrived mid-festival, Shooting Guns almost sounded like a completely different band on Saturday night. The heat and the humidity of the second-floor beer hall, giving off a wafting welcome akin to entering a Turkish bathhouse, did nothing to cool the ardor of the sprawling stoner-rock ensemble. Muscling through wide-shouldered grooves and melodies that unfurl like freshly-laid two-lane blacktop, the extended Shooting Guns soon reaffirmed they were the same boogiemen who raised hackles, and PBR tallboys, when they unleashed the beast within for the soundtrack to the movie Wolfcop. (CL)
The Weir – Bamboo
Have you ever wanted an excuse to pull a plastic bag over your friend’s head? What better occasion than a mad dash between raindrops? A roomful of spongy hoodies fogged up the interior of Bamboo conjuring an appropriately winterish atmosphere for The Weir to rest the slow-hand of their weighty message upon the heads of the all-too familiars. Their heaving black mass, incredibly dense and anything but dumb, went down like a pint of Guinness. A fitting gateway into the second half of the ‘Stoner Rock Guy Presents” showcase, which had hangover-cure seekers gathered to bask in the healing rays of The Switching Yard. One of the busiest musicians at Sled Island, The Switching Yard’s ambitious guitarist Chris Laramee also performed at this year’s festival with his bands Shooting Guns and Radiation Flowers (who had remarkably appeared at Olympic Plaza early that same afternoon)! Seeing any one of these Saskatchewan desert-rock entities is the mollifying equivalent of putting the ol’ motorhome on cruise control and watching the endless wheat fields fly by. (CL)
Dream Whip, Radiation Flowers, Moon King, Speedy Ortiz, SUUNS, Land of Talk, Built To Spill, Guided By Voices – Olympic Plaza
Scattered sunshowers did little to soften the resolve of the crowd or the stiff peaks of Calgary-based quartet Dream Whip on Saturday afternoon for a downtown daylight debutante ball to write home about. Cautiously optimistic, their nostalgic cocktail dress-chic was more couture than Coachella. The puffy clouds above were no match for a bomp-less early ‘60s sound coyly wrapped in a fuzz-toned angora sweater.
A highlight of the Olympic Plaza event is the opportunity to flip through “the big book of Sled posters” at the merch table; a rare chance to get your hands on some of the numbered prints from previous years, including artwork representing the likes of Lightning Bolt, King Tuff, Torche and more, all for a mere $30. (CL)
Jay Arner, BRASS, Chron Goblin, Bell Witch, Valient Thorr – Palomino
The show-stopping and jaw-dropping antics of Vancouver, BC’s BRASS had perambulators stuck in their tracks as they willfully transformed the upper-floor of The Palomino Smokehouse into a penthouse punk-art party. The walls wept Andy Warhol cream-of-tomato soup as BRASS’s big strings and skins whipped up trouble and brought the punk foam steaming to the surface. Blazing with all-caps fury, each headstrong missive was delivered like a saucy knuckle sandwich, which just happened to pair perfectly with ibuprofen, earplugs, and cold draught.
Going hungry is never an issue at The Palomino, but Calgary’s thirst for “Backwater” continued to be an issue. One of the more crowded basement shows of the week, Chron Goblin’s homecoming performance left no doubt regarding the quality of Calgary psych-metal they were dispensing while recently on tour in Europe. Well-equipped to shoot whiskey while rendering their anthemic psych-metal, the foursome had the other musicians in the room perking up their ears in appreciation of their challenging choices and powerfully gritty vocals.
Speaking of witch… Seattle’s Bell Witch opened a portal to deep listening on Saturday night. The expansive dark matter of their loathsome tolls and overarching themes flowed forth in a monosyllabic blast. Growling eloquence may sound like a contradiction in terms, but the wrathful drone tones and banshee shrieks emanating from the drum kit paint a scene that would give Francis Bacon nightmares. The curse interfered at least once, causing technical havoc that required a “one moment please” break early into their performance. Resurrected, Bell Witch redoubled their efforts to spin a web of suspense-filled moments.
“Is this the last show of the festival? And, we’re the last band playing here tonight? Well then, you’d better get your fuckin’ money’s worth!” And, with that, Valient Thorr launched into one of the most entertaining performances of the entire festival. Stripped to the waist, save for a ginger-flocked hair shirt, the wily lead-singer, Valient Himself, brought Chapel Hill, NC’s hot and heavy Southern Rock roadshow to Cowtown in earnest. Internationally infamous and self-proclaimed legends of the world, the multicultural outfit embraced their immortalized audience in a sweaty bearhug of righteous rhythms, metal-core meltdowns and Bad Brains-esque breakaways. Was the ceiling getting lower, or were we all levitating on a wave of hardcore happiness? Either way, it was good Sledding. (CL)
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