I don't know that I've ever said it in so many words, but regular readers of this journal may not be surprised to learn that I have a serious weak spot for good old shit-kicking country music. I've also mentioned that The Attic (a venue I have only just begun to learn to appreciate) is closing down in the next couple of weeks.

So it was with some delight that I learned one of my last chances to go to that establishment was going to be a show by the Divorcees, a Moncton-based outlaw country band (if you've ever been to Moncton, you'll understand that makes perfect sense) and one I think I've mentioned I have been meaning to check out. I was a little sorry that my old blue Alberta western boots seem to have gone astray in one of the moves I was making about ten years ago: since I wore them exclusively in the barn they were, in fact, actual shit-kickers (to the extent that the exposure to ammonia had turned the feet sort of... green.) They are the stacked-heel kind that's been out of fashion for years but I would certainly have worn them last night. As it was I decided the new Ariats I've been breaking in for the past week or so would have to do, these being sort of incipent SKs, as it were.

Anyway, having been to The Attic a couple of times before, I was aware of the drill and didn't bother coming out until after midnight. The ID-checking dudes downstairs were marginally friendlier than previously, the purse-check was more extensive than usual, but the female door and bar staff were as cheery as ever. (I could see people putting up with the security guys just because the bartenders are so nice. I hope they all have new jobs lined up.)

By the time I arrived the opening act was already playing, a local group called Ryan Cook and Sunny Acres. I understand Ryan is one of the people in charge of Honky Tonk Hiccups, the country show at Ginger's on Tuesday nights. Exposure to his band makes me sorry my Tuesdays are all tied up again, but rest assured that if Adam and Rob take a night off I'll be there.

Ryan was an acoustic-playing lead singer decked out in a silver felt cowboy hat suitable for winter wear, and he and his band played the kind of country that makes me wish I knew how to two-step, you know? Their CD is out on March 8th and I have marked the date of the CD release party on my calendar.

And since I am now pressed for time I'll say of the Divorcees that cheerful outlaw country just baout covers them: they have two excellent lead singers (a small hairy guy and a larger one with Our Lady of Guadelupe tattooed down his forearm) and I took to them at once, especially the tune that gives this post its title. Hee!

The only bad thing about the night was, as far as I could tell not a single person in the place knew how to two-step. But that didn't mean there weren't a few folks trying!

More on this later, I suspect--probably after I've gotten the CD. For now, I recommend their originals and also their covers, including one of Waylon's "Lonesome, Ornery and Mean." Yowza!

Apparently The Attic has but two weeks to live. And here, after that fairly uncomfortable first experience, I had just decided I liked the place when under it goes.

The Attic is part of the big Liquordome complex and apparently it's suffered due to general problems with the Dome (such as the dollar-drink-fueled Christmas Eve brawl, for instance.) I hear rumours that the space will be used to make the Dome itself bigger, which has led to some bitter online commentary along the lines of, "The Dome is out of control, so the obvious solution is to make it even bigger!" Um, yeah, that makes sense.

Also heard online is, it sounds like the bar staff (who were really nice) among others will be out of work. (Although you'd think, if they make the dance club bigger, they'll need staff upstairs, right?)

It's never good when a place that plays live music is replaced by something that doesn't. (Unless the something that doesn't is a tack store or a library, obviously.) The online commenters I've seen say the people who ran the place treated bands well. So now I'm sort of bummed.

(I'm on a public library computer, so no time to look up a lyrical post title.)

I think I owe an apology to the Attic. As I have mentioned more than once, I found it a little uncomfortable the last time I was there, but apparently I like it a lot better when I am not the only patron I can see. (Last time, owing to the odd shape of the place, I was generally the only customer I could see and it felt like just me and a lot of security guys who looked bent on throwing someone out before the evening was over. It made me nervous!)

Last night was much better--still had my bag checked at the door (I left my pearl-handled .45 at home) but the guy who checked my ID just looked at it, he didn't scan it to see whether I had any wants or warrants or whatever. And the bar staff is friendly, so hey.

I met my brother down there, or rather hung out with him part of the time between him going off to check in with some friends of his who are Silvergun fans. There were four bands on the bill and I think they each brought a complement of friends and fans, so there were always quite a few people sround and, from the area where I was sitting close to the stage, the sound was good.

First up: the Josh Parkinson Project, which consisted of five people including a sax/flute player (not at the same time, obviously.) The focus was definitely on the front man, the band was sort of a layer of heavy jazzy-pop sound backing up what I would describe as Jeremy-spoke-in-class-today vocals. They were good at what they do, I just tend to prefer bands where the individual instruments get to speak up more. Worth checking out to find out for yourself, though.

Harbourfire was up next and played eight or nine songs, I think. One was brand-new, as in last night, and when I spoke to Matt the singer at the end of the night he told me they'd gotten the tune down but he was pretty much making up lyrics as he went along, which is awesome and perhaps explains why the band looked so highly entertained. They always do look like they're having fun playing off each other, though.

I have seven minutes left, so this has to be quick.

Anyway, I hadn't seen Gloryhound up to this point but after Harbourfire cleared the gear they had to clear (it was one of those deals where bands were sharing the drum kit and in fact brought in bits and pieces to add and all the drummers used their own cymbals) Gloryhound appeared all together. Apparently they'd been at their buddy Ryan's birthday party and judging by the crowd who arrived and wound up in the same corner I was, they brought the party with them. Which was in fact as much fun as you think it is.

Set List

Standing Still

Free Of You

See You Round

Bright In the Dark

Long Arm (a particularly great version)

Before You Fall (for Matt S)

You Gotta Learn

What's Left (Ryan pointed out the Nirvana undertone on parts of this song which had totally escaped me but now that he mentioned it...)

Flee the Scene (for Ryan)

Midnight Bird

Final set of the night was by Silvergun, who as I mentioned I've heard of but not heard. They were good at what they do, and I can see why my brother's friends were into it, but it's not really my thing. In talking to a few other people as I was leaving I was able to articulate what I was thinking--the band (guitar, bass, keys, and drums) did that layer-of-sound with vocals thing and it's almost like it's all rhythm. I prefer when you can listen with your eyes closed and still imagine people playing the music.

However, they're another band worth checking out, because if you get what they do they are really good at it.

Time's up. Later.

After I got home from Winston's at about eight and had something to eat I went over to my brother's for a little bit and hung out with him and some friends while I evaluated whether I felt like calling it a night or going downtown. Here's the thing: as you may have noticed, I've been meaning for a while to check out a local band called Faded Blue. It's partly because I'm always on the lookout for new music, and partly because, well...

Okay, there was the whole thing about the lead singer making the stupid and tactless remark on the Facebook group. Without going over it again, I was kind of mad at him at the time just because it struck me as an ungracious thing for him to say after a whole lot of people made a point of supporting his band last spring at the Battle of the Bands. Because I'm like that, though, rather than ignoring them forever afterward I looked them up, and found out the lead singer seems to be a great deal younger than I thought he was at first, and started to think maybe I wasn't going to hold a grudge over the remark, I was just going to see what I thought of the music. In other words, I was actually trying to be fair, which for a small and petty person such as myself was a big step. (Yeah, they played four songs at the Battle of the Bands. That doesn't count, because the sound was so awful. I mean, I didn't form much of an opinion of the winners, Mike Trask & Mudhill, that night but when I caught them at the Seahorse a few weeks ago I just loved them.)

I've actually planned to go to more than one show over the past couple of months and always ended up not going at the last minute for one reason or another. So last night I decided, dammit, this is it.

Yes, I always make a big fat deal about things like this. Sue me.

According to The Coast, Faded Blue and Nick Nameless were supposed to play at The Attic starting at ten. This, in my experience, generally means eleven. It was more like a quarter to twelve when I got downtown so I figured I had already missed the openers, but whatever.

I've never been to The Attic before but it was easy to find. There was a big guy at the door (which reminded me of my last trip to Gus's, where this security guy actually blocked the door for a second, so I thought I had misunderstood The Coast and it was a private function) and he ignored me until I had my hand on the door handle, which was when he asked to see ID. It was like when store security catches a shoplifter and has to wait until they leave the store to arrest them. And he wasn't perfunctory about it, either, which is a new one. I mean, okay, I've been told I don't look my age, but what that means is I look about thirty-five rather than forty. There's no way anyone needs to check my birth date. He not only checked, he scanned my driver's license to make sure it was real. What, is there a problem with middle-aged librarians sneaking into The Attic under assumed names??

When I got upstairs the guy at the door checked my purse for, I don't know, weapons I guess, but at least he had enough of a sense of humour to look like he felt a little silly about it. Sheesh.

I heard no bands playing when I came in, and when I stopped at the bar for a Pepsi (which I was not charged for, so that was an instance of a staff member seeming human) I asked when the band started. The reply was twelve-fifteen or so, which was when I suddenly remembered a thread on a local message board in which someone mentioned that The Attic was open a lot later than many other bars. Shit--now I was looking at being out ridiculously late and having to walk back to my car, on Sackville Street, when only the drunkest people in Halifax were still awake. And I'd already paid the cover.

Still, I was determined to do this so I parked myself at a table and noted that despite the fact it was getting on for midnight there was practically nobody there except the bands (I recognized a couple of the guys from Faded Blue from the BOTB) wearing green wrist bands that I guess identified them. (Mine was white.) And more security guys than I have ever seen at a club in Halifax that wasn't the Marquee for a special event. It looked like the Prime Minister was expected to drop by and sit in.

Anyway. Nick Nameless apparently couldn't make it, so the opening act was Paul Maybee & the Critics. Which is a pretty random name, and I have good luck with bands whose names are random, but I couldn't help wishing their name was Paul Maybee & the Possibilities. They were a three-piece, played seven or eight songs, and were one of those cases of steadily increasing returns, because I liked them more as their set went on. I especially liked it when the singer switched from electric to acoustic guitar because he had a nice warm voice and the acoustic guitar emphasized it nicely. If I heard they were playing somewhere on a weekend I think I would plan to go.

So that was good. Then Faded Blue started, and within a couple of songs there were maybe two dozen people on the dance floor so there were finally more patrons than security. The band plays every Tuesday at The Seahorse which is, in my opinion, a much more welcoming venue (I had a hell of a time even finding the bathrooms between sets, the place was so large and weirdly shaped) and I imagined their friends saying to them, "Sorry guys, I'll gladly come see you Tuesday but I'm not going to The Attic for any reason!" But the folks on the dance floor seemed interested, there were a few right up at the rail in front of the stage and this one girl with blond hair who was sort of pogoing like her feet were made of rubber, and she was really cute.

As far as the band went, all I knew about them beforehand, aside from the BOTB experience which as I say doesn't count, was what Evan from Gloryhound told me a week or so before the BOTB, which was that they played sort of heavy pop and were very tight. And they were: tight and well-rehearsed and very professional. And, I quickly decided, not my thing. I liked the lead guitarist, who seemed to have a bit of the devil in him and who acknowledged a group of obvious big fans standing in front of him very nicely. I wasn't as taken with their sound, which really was heavy pop, and the lead singer, while pretty good, didn't grab me.

I'm not even holding a grudge at this point. The second song they played was a pretty much note-by-note cover of "Cocaine Cowgirl," and that kind of made me think about the first time I saw El Torpedo and despite the fact Matt Mays isn't an out-there, "hey look at me" front man, you can't take your eyes off him. The thing about charisma is it's innate, right, and even though in Matt's case what he projects is simply "perfectly nice guy," he projects it in a way that's hard to ignore. It's like when he's in front of the band he's himself only bigger, and that's something you either have or you don't. Which is what I was thinking about watching this band--they were exactly as big as the sum of their parts.

They also did not, in the first set, acknowledge the opening act, and you know how I am about that.

I did like the guitar part in their new song, which made me think of "Black Magic Woman," and when someone yelled "Carlos!" at the guitar player he laughed and acknowledged it.

I left when they broke after the first set so I was out by two. If the guitar player ever quits and forms a new band, I think I may check them out. But for now, I can see why someone would like Faded Blue, but now I don't need to wonder whether one of them might be me.

Also, I would have to want to see a band some bad to ever go back to The Attic. As I left a guy who was visibly thirty was being refused entry on the grounds that he had the wrong kind of ID. I mean, God!

And, since the library is about to close, that's it for now.