I figured it out... For those of us who never really got over high school, there are those moments in life when we feel we've stepped back in time. A song, a scent, a line of film dialogue can take us back to a simpler, dare I say, more nostalgic time. Then there are those other times when we feel our age bitterly as reality crashes in on our respective Peter Pan and Tinkerbell complexes. By now, I'm sure dear reader, you must realize that your humble narrator is filled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, curious to see which of these feelings the evening will evoke.

If you've been reading this blog regularly, and I'm sure you have, you'll be familiar with my uncomfortable obsession with the latest crop of Britain's angular "yelp-rock" bands. So it is with bated breath that I accompany A-Ranger to the East Side to hook up with Robo Cobo and K-Roc for the Bloc Party show. Their jagged hooks and shimmering riffs have been fraying the nerves and speaker screens of the SFB#1 household for months.

A note about openers The Kills. Having seen a single video, I expected a delightfully nostalgic set of JMAC/Mazzy-esque drone rock to ease us into the show. Clearly, I'm leaning towards time travel tonight. Too bad their efficient German songwriting esthetic didn't extend to their set list. (Um, they're not German, they're a US/UK Hybrid - Geography ED / Whatever, he's riffing - Buzz Kill ED) All the pleasure of watching a soundtrack in the making, according to A-Ranger.

At the risk of digressing further… Now I'm no fan of the Docks in general. All the charm of having your Prom at the Falls View casino with bathroom attendants that always leave me feeling uncomfortable and without bus fare. A quick scan of the crowd suggests that that oh so important (semi-ironic?) T-shirt seems to be losing ground to the striped I-zod-esqe polo that Old Navy is flogging like its going out of style (counting down, 10, 9, 7, 6, 5…) My god, I have been transported back to St. Catharine's Prep Party Hell circa 1980-something. This is a John Hughes reunion in the making. It doesn't help that the bastard child of Jon Cryer and Matthew Broderick has just blocked my view. If Nerd is the new Black, then I think the Jocks are mounting a bloody coup.

If all of this weren't enough to make me miss my mullet and ball point graffiti-ed Chuck Taylors, I turn around and come face to face with the one and only AD-AD-NUT-HOUSE, my best-est, skate-rat, O.G. (Original GeekRock) buddy from, er, um, high school. A round of introductions SFB#1 - Stamford Girl I Never Met. A-Ranger - Ad Ad, Robo - Ad Ad, K-Roc - and so on…

Oh right, so the show. We are in a total dead zone for sound, but we have managed to avoid being hemmed in by genetically modified (and freakishly tall) teenaged goat-boys. Kele Bloc and his Party-ers take the stage and steam into "Like Eating Glass" and "Positive Tension". Is "So fucking USELESS!" the next anthem of our, er, they’re, er someone’s generation? By the time "Banquet" whirls forth the dance floor is a sea of bouncing trucker hats and turned up polo collars. You kids ARE so underrated, so negated. There is an admirable level of banter from Kele and the lads. It’s enough to show the band appreciate our fandom, but not so much that they forget they are here to rock us not try out new stand up material. Little Known FACT - Kele is moving to Canada. Or so he claims. They graciously play some B-sides (pandering to us snobby rockists and we love every minute of it) but you can see the confusion in the faces of the obvious EDGE Listeners every time they don’t recognize "This Modern Love" or "Helicopter". But that's neither here nor there. These lads came to play and we love them for it. And it's obvious why they are such a hit. Kele's charm and smile evoke the spirit of a youthful Tom Jones as bras and knickers pelt the stage. Russel’s jagged guitars give the Indie Boys something they don't totally have to disdain. They rhythm section is so tight you can bounce coins off them, so much so that a couple of yobs almost spoil the show by flinging loonies at the band. Their songs of youthful angst and ennui shimmer with hooks big enough to snag the most jaded music fan. They've got the look down. Skinny, falling off their arse jeans, Supergrass is Ten-esque guitar strap badges, vision-obscuring fringe. This is everything a rock show should be, bar the atrocious venue and sound.

However, something nags at the back of my mind. Yes, I feel the nostalgia. Yes, dancing horses and lips like sugar come to mind. Yes, echoes of transmissions distort my reception. All of the accepted references have come to mind. So what in bloody hell is bugging me so much? The second song of the encore is "So Here We Are" and everything falls into place. "Tenderness" by General Public. That's it. I'm Michael Anthony Hall in Weird Science and while I hope I'm in the shower with Kelly Le Brock I know I'm actually about to be pants-ed by Robert Downey Jr. and Robert Rusler. The Jocks have overthrown the Nerds.

They close (or so we think) with a shimmer of the YYY's "Maps" that evolves into "Pioneers". Then the reality of our age crashes in. There is no rock’n’roll transcendence for us. We slip out the side to beat the crowds so we can be ferried off to sleep to rise again to process goods for sale, sell processed goods or whatever grown up thing it is we do. I find out later that we missed two more songs. (Thanks Bloc Forum) I won't make the same mistake at Interpol. I am nothing, if I am not Super Fan Boy #1.

Set List
Like Eating Glass
Positive Tension
Banquet – So underrated
Bluest Light
She’s Hearing Voices
The Marshals Are Dead
This Modern Love
New Song
Luno
New Song
Helicopter

Encore
New Song or – Dub Reggae Vibe & "Time is a Healer" corus
So Here We Are
Price of Gas
Pioneers

Second Encore Regrettably missed by SFB#1
Skeleton
The Answer  ¶ 12:29 AM 0 comments

  The disparity between management and labour is not philosophical... And I have evidence...

This letter arrived at the house of one of my loved ones who is on their staff.



I really want to curse, but I'll refrain...

I don't care which side of this you are on.

A - People are out of work.

and

B - these are people our Sisters, Brothers, Mothers, Fathers, Daughters, Sons and Cousins who want to do a good job and have a career. These people are not prima donnas, they are just people who want to work and have had that right taken away from them by the above mentioned gentlemen and ladies.

But mostly I think the fact that they mailed this propaganda to one of their own employees, please bear in mind that this was not addressed to yours truly, demonstrates just how out of touch they are with their own work force. Frankly, I find it offensive. Hence the post.

What galls me the most is this quote from the letter:

Because we believe the proposals we have put forward are important if CBC is to continue to provide Canadians with quality programming in a changing environment. They give us the ability to put the right people in the right jobs at the right time - something that we feel is essential for our networks and our services to succeed in the future.

By the right people I assume they do not mean my friend and the 5,499 colleagues that are locked out.

Shame on you RICHARD STURSBERG.

You can read more about the letter in the second story of the CMG's latest newsletter on this site.  ¶ 1:45 AM 0 comments