In the packed, neo-Gothic Union Chapel in north London, Hugh Laurie sits onstage at a piano, introducing the solemn blues song Six Cold Feet in the Ground. His guitarist, Toronto’s Kevin Breit, starts laughing so hard at Laurie’s wisecracks that he screws up his prelude to the tune—twice.
Behind the colourful name of India Pale Ale is a colourful history: from the 1820s, the beer was brewed in the English Midlands and shipped in casks down to Brazil, around the Cape of Good Hope, and up to India, where, having aged over the rough journey, it was enthusiastically quaffed by English colonists. Nearly 200 years later, in another former colony, it’s surging in popularity. But why are so many Canadian brewers now making IPAs?
It’s hard not to feel cheated by Amy Winehouse’s death. Not that she owed anything to her fans — apart from those who bought tickets for her shambolic concerts in recent years — but because of the unfulfilled promise, and promises, she leaves.
Benoît David was repairing a raccoon-damaged boat on the St. Lawrence River in June 2008 when he got the call that would change his life. Little did he know that the 14 years he’d spent singing in a tribute band to progressive-rock pioneers Yes had been, in a sense, one very long audition. On his cellphone was bassist Chris Squire, asking him to tour with Yes itself.
Your next trip to an art gallery may go something like this: first, you download an app onto your phone and flip through reproductions of the work you’re going to see. At the gallery, you take pictures of paintings; your phone recognizes them, and the curator’s voice in your earbuds gives you information. One work in particular captivates you, but prints aren’t available in the gift shop; no matter—you order one online. While you’re at it, you “like” the work on your social networking profile, and a link tells you there’s another gallery nearby with work by the same artist.
With the near-annihilation of the Bloc Québecois in May’s federal election and the recent implosion of the Parti Québecois, one could be forgiven for assuming separatist sentiment is on the wane in Canada.
Most jazz musicians, asked about the defining concerts in their careers, will name a prestigious venue or heralded festival. For Darcy James Argue’s Grammy- and Juno-nominated big band Secret Society, old-school adulation is all very well, but the sweat, grunge and intimacy more common to indie rock has given them a vision of the future of jazz.
From the bottom of his platform boots to the top of his stovepipe hat, Bootsy Collins is one larger-than-life character. But in his dressing room at Metropolis before a Montreal Jazz Festival show, surrounded by his sparkly robes and ruffs, the bassist becomes introspective.
The signs on the doors of Selfridges’ flagship department store on Oxford Street in London promote giving “the gift of self-indulgence.” Having sold an £85 sandwich, a £1,000 Swarovski-encrusted water bottle, an £1,800 Spanish ham, and a £10,000 children’s electric car, Selfridges is not exactly known for preaching restraint. And yet, in launching Project Ocean, its creative director, Alannah Weston, is doing just that.
The recording studio is a wonderful invention, but the daily routine in its cramped confines can lead to malaise. One way for a rock band to recapture excitement is to redecorate: prog-rockers Yes, for instance, turned their studio into a barn with bales of hay and cardboard cows for their infamous opus Tales from Topographic Oceans; Talk Talk recorded their post-rock tour de force Laughing Stock by shutting out natural light, burning candles, and losing all sense of time. More adventurous bands simply leave the traditional studio behind.