By: Nicole Vasarevic
They say that your first will always hold a special place in your heart. Supercrawl 2014 now sits beside my first bike and my first kiss.
People. Poutine. Power outages. That would pretty much sum up my first Supercrawl experience. As I arrived with a group of friends the first thing I thought was, “take a deep breath Nicole, you won’t be able to breathe in that crowd.” I soon realized that being pressed up against strangers was more of a blessing then a curse seeing as I did not dress for the frigid weather. My anxiety of crowds was quickly swallowed by the smell of poutine, and my mission soon turned from surviving to devouring. A greasy poutine from the Texas Tornado food truck was calling my name. However, by the time I came to the front of the line, my initial craving was still lost in the sea of people.
While aimlessly walking around, having second thoughts about that poutine line, I stumbled onto a few galleries and marveled at the artists’ work while silently scorning myself for giving more priority to the food than the art. We stopped by the Baltimore House for some local music and caught the end of the set of Toronto band, Greys. After grabbing a beer, we headed out back into the droves of revelers for the The Arkells.
Losing about 90% of my friends was a given when you go to such a big event, but I can’t say I was expecting the steady flow of drunken people who continuously climbed the traffic light only to be pulled down by the police minutes after. The Arkells toughed it out through some power outage hiccups and played a nostalgic set that had me singing at an inappropriate volume. Before I knew it, my first Supercrawl experience had come to an end. I’ve got to admit I was a little bit bummed that I didn’t have more time to really explore all that Supercrawl had to offer, but there is always next year.
My first Supercrawl experience was just like the HSR buses at the end of the night, full of people and passing by me in the blink of an eye.
What was impressive about this group’s performance during Supercrawl on Sept. 13 was the stage presence and energy provided throughout the performance. Breaks and breathers were non-existent as poise and youthful enthusiasm added to the surprising amount of experience each member has to sound like a complete band that had been together and playing for multiple decades. Despite a relatively passive crowd at Supercrawl -- completely forgivable given they were not the main attraction -- they were confident in their music and abilities. Even if you dislike punk pop, their memorable performance will definitely raise your opinion of the genre.
Three of the four members trace their roots to 2008, where they performed together in a group called Done with Dolls. This was a more youth-focused group that had airplay on The Family Channel. Fortunately, their music has matured and grown alongside them to have a bit more angst, a good amount more depth, and a lot more talent and ability.
Their self-titled EP in 2013 was surprisingly good for an official first effort. Though it did not have any major surprises, it was consistently upbeat and fun throughout in an incredibly accessible way. The Heights EP in 2014 provided significantly more variation and expansion of their style to exciting new possibilities. These, combined with their live performances, have gained wide enough recognition to play at the Sound of Music Festival, NXNE, Osheaga Festival, Riot Fest, and many more over the course of the last summer.
Though they do not have all that much in their discography quite yet, a bit longer before they are all out of high school, and a bit of refinement to do, The Beaches are definitely on the watch list for big things in the future. Maybe a year from now, maybe five years from now, and probably with a catalog of new sounds and influences behind them as they continue to grow musically.
By: Alexandra Florescu
Your thin fall jacket is no match for the whipping wind, the crowd is a tide of people standing shoulder-to-shoulder and your head has started to ache from the pounding music.
For those who attended Hamilton’s annual festival called Supercrawl, the previous description might have applied to you. At the very least, it applied to me. I had gone on a mission over to James Street North with a couple of friends on Sept. 12 to enjoy the live music, art and food vendors. However, after a few hours of admiring the attractions, we decided to pick an indoor art exhibit at random and explore it away from the cold and bustle of the street.
We happened upon an exhibit named Art Forms Youth Art Studio. After walking through a brick-walled corridor, we came upon a cavernous room whose white walls were covered with art. Initially, there was nothing that quite caught my eye. The wall to the left had an array of hanging photographs, in the back there was a video projection and in the center of the room there was a geometric art installation. Walking around the dimly lit room, I happened to stop in front of an informational poster on the exhibit.
As it turns out, we had unknowingly walked into an exhibit put on by Art Forms, a youth arts organization that provides free weekly visual arts sessions, acting classes and dance programs to 16 to 25-year- olds of the Hamilton community, specifically targeting at-risk youth. What I had previously believed to be just another Supercrawl art exhibit turned out to be unlike all the rest in one key factor – this exhibit was created with the artists, not the audience, in mind. With a renewed understanding, I turned back to the pieces I had already seen in order to truly acknowledge them for what they were.
To the left was a wall adorned with photographs of the youth that had participated in the program and poems or stories they had written. While the poems painted a dark image of what life for these troubled teens looked like, the photographs were what struck me. Some featured people laughing, others had people singing, and in some they were playing musical instruments. Moreover, their smiles bore no traces of a difficult life, their demeanor light and jubilant. Through something as simple as a photograph, it was clear to see that Art Forms had given them the chance at life without addiction, or homelessness, or illness.
To the right of the wall, in the center of the room, there was an art installation made of a wood frame draped in a tapestry of bright, mismatched cloth. The shape and size of a small tent, it was impossible to miss. The wooden frame supported what seemed to be a shelter; its duality was apparent in its role as both an art piece and a comment on homelessness. Despite all this, the installation seemed hopeful. Strings of lights within the tent caused it to glow from the inside, the warm-yellow light filtering through the cloth as if it were a giant lantern. At points throughout the structure, the cloth was not secured to the wooden posts. Rather, it was left to trail out as if it were billowing in the wind. In other parts, cloth was interjected with pieces of paper scribed in black writing.
As I studied the vibrant reds and purples of the cloth, I noticed a crowd growing towards the back corner of the exhibit. The object of their fixation was, what I discovered to be, not quite an art piece. On the wall there was a long piece of white paper with only the outline of a large, sideways triangle and the title “Tell Me a Story… (True or False)” displayed across the top.
Underneath the poster was a box of coloured crayons that people could use contribute whatever they wished to the piece. Some lines people chose to write were inspirational, others comedic, and others confessional. What was clear, however, was that every person that walked by took the time to read the wall before making his or her own contribution. Starting at first with a few lines like “A life without reflections is not worth living” to “It all happened because I went in the labyrinth,” the mural soon became cluttered with each person’s distinct scrawl. Incredibly imaginative and well executed, the wall got a plethora of praises for its ingenuity and interactive nature. Yet this mural was not the only piece to which the public could contribute.
A table bearing the sign “Create Your Own Hamilton” had been located outside the venue all night, but as the night drew to a close, it was brought inside. The piece consisted of a metal wire frame draped in long rectangular pieces of fabric. As they had walked by, people had been beckoned to write one thing that would improve the city of Hamilton on his or her own piece of fabric. Upon completion, their piece of fabric would be added to the collage already building on top of the metal frame. The finished product resembled a pile of trash, but the vibrant colours of the fabric draped over the structure symbolized the hope for a better Hamilton and the hope for at risk youth to rise out of the rubble into a better future.
Unfortunately, having been so wrapped up in the exhibit, I noticed too late that the crowd had left and the doors were being locked. My visit cut shorter than I wished, I left Art Forms with an inexplicable feeling of having discovered a gem underneath the rubble and I vowed to return.
Tom Krell cuts a looming figure with his 6’4’’ frame towering above others. What surprises most is that Krell has the voice to match his distinctive height. Those who were near the Hamilton Airport Stage this past Saturday were in for a treat in the form of Krell’s delectable falsetto.
With his latest record, “What is This Heart?”, Krell has separated himself from the torch-bearer role thrust on him by buzz-purveying music blogs. Despite his singing style, Krell is much more than a poster-boy for the recent insurgence of so-called “alternative” R&B. On WITH, his third full-length release, Krell shuns the crass stylings of the lesser creatives he’s been grouped with in the past and succeeds in making a brilliant sounding pop record that is at once his most ambitious and intimate yet.
Clad in an indigo blue button-up, Nike Air tee, designer sweatpants, and Kobe’s on his feet to help him balance out well, Krell was in jovial spirits. Despite the chill in the air, Krell was able to create a warm atmosphere with the help of his band.
The majority of Krell’s set list was culled from WITH, but the greater portion of the audience seemed to already be aware of the June release. Supercrawl is very much a public festival, with people walking down James during and in between shows, but the crowd gathered by Jackson Square did their very best to maintain a reverent silence for Krell.
Despite the sombre nature of some of the songs he was performing, Krell allowed himself the odd wisecrack to relieve the inevitable tension. During one breather, Krell pointed to his guitarist and keyboardist and noted that they were Canadian to the obvious delight of the crowd. During another, he gave a shoutout to Hamilton’s own Jessy Lanza and all the dogs at the festival. Before launching into his next song, Krell pointed to the drone flitting around the overcast sky and jokingly asked, “can we get that drone out of there?”
The intricately produced music did not suffer when being translated to the live setting by a three-piece band. “Repeat Pleasure” and “Childhood Faith In Love” were still as delightfully catchy as their album counterparts, and Krell’s undeniable passion was infectious. As he crooned into his two separate mics, Krell clutched at his shirt as if he didn’t know what to do with all his pent-up angst.
The Chicago resident’s sadness soon found an outlet in “Suicide Dream 1”, a cut from his debut record. Krell explained that the song had been written for his best friend who promptly passed away soon after it came out. The mournful track was chill-inducing in its starkness.
I stopped going to church because I don’t believe in god anymore, but Krell’s performance of “Set It Right” — before which he reminded everyone that Supercrawl was a special festival but that there were still “a lot of hungry people out there” — was much more spiritual than anything I’ve ever felt while kneeling on pews.
The backing track died down for Krell to list off the names of people he missed, but as if he recognized that everyone was on the verge of tears (myself included), Krell launched into an uplifting rendition of Young Thug’s “Lifestyle” which put a smile on everyone’s face.
In many ways this thematic dichotomy represents everything Krell’s music is about: confronting your own burdensome issues while keeping the ability to have fun and laugh at yourself close to heart.
Welcome to ANDY's picks, a weekly must-hear playlist curated by our esteemed ANDY editors Tomi Milos and Michael Gallagher. This week's theme features artists who performed at the Supercrawl festival which took place this past weekend. You can listen below, or follow this link to playlist on Spotify.
Sean Thompson is a Hamilton native who has made a name for himself as a producer-DJ extraordinaire with the moniker “ttwwrrss” (pronounced “towers”). ttwwrrss’ self-titled debut album was released by Hamilton’s own Maisonneuve Music this past April. The eight-song record is a compelling listen that combines pristine synths with the natural grittiness of hip-hop and more unorthodox electronic elements.
In a world where everyone has Fruity Loops on their computer and feels entitled to add “producer” to their Twitter bio, ttwwrrss’ masterful use of sampling is a welcome breath of fresh air. Standout tracks ‘Jungle’ and ‘Sabre’ are fire, whether you let them knock in your car’s speakers or hear them through a club’s more finely tuned sound system.
How old are you now and what did you study after high school?
I’m 20 years old now, and while at Sheridan I was in their Media Arts program. It’s a great school and I highly recommend it.
What prompted you to adopt the name “ttwwrrss”?
To be totally honest I can’t remember how I came to towers... but I do know that once I had it set in my mind that I wanted to be towers, the next task was to get all the necessary social media accounts. Obviously “towers” was taken, “twrs” was open but I didn’t like it because that was right around the time Trust’s album “TRST” came out and I felt like I was stealing. Eventually I decided to double the letters and here we are.
You grew up in a sleepy suburb and went to a high school that was monocultural in the worst way. Bearing that in mind, what compelled you to begin making music that doesn’t sound like anything that you’d hear Stoney Creek bros playing out of their Honda Civics?
I wanted to make music with machines and computers, but I didn’t want to be pidgeonholed into EDM or anything like that, so I always tried to be like NIN.
I never really felt like I had to make a certain type of music based on where I grew up, but looking back I realized everyone else I knew who got into music either “produced” questionable electro-house or trap beats, both essential bro car music genres, so I guess there was a pressure and it just didn’t get to me, thank god.
Did any artists influence you from the get-go? I know you were a big fan of Justice.
Justice was huge for me; Nine Inch Nails is what really made me want to make music. DJ Shadow & Daft Punk made me realize how intricate sampling can be.
Those are the artists that I would consider myself inspired by, rather than simply a fan.
How valuable has the experience you gained during your internship been to you?
I am so thankful for my internships at Catherine North Studios & Cable 14 Television Studio. Although I learned a lot of technical skills that I use everyday from the internships, I really value the personable skills I learned during these times. I used to be very shy but I quickly realized that trait needed to go if I wanted to be successful.
Could you walk me through your normal production process when making a new track?
I used to always start with a sample and I would craft a whole idea then start to build the track around it. I found myself starting with a bass or a lead synth for a lot of my new album. With the new music I’m working on now, almost every song started with a drum kit / beat.
What are your thoughts on the current music scene in Hamilton?
I love the Hamilton scene; it’s super cool seeing it grow with me. I have started to notice more and more people coming to shows and supporting local acts. I am very excited to see where this all goes.
Any acts you want to see at Supercrawl this year?
If I’m not a last minute addition opening for Four-Tet, I’ll most likely be in the front row.
If you could collaborate with any Canadian artists right now, who would you choose?
Grimes! I love her stuff. It might be impossible but I also think a ttwwrrss x MSTRKRFT collab would be rad.
Julia Busatto
The Silhouette
As we all know, Supercrawl was jam-packed with fantastic artists and guitar-shredding acts. But there was one performer who danced himself apart from all the rest.
If you missed Diamond Rings’ set on Saturday, no sweat, because the Toronto-based artist is sure to perform locally again. I have been a fan of Diamond Rings ever since the release of his hit single, “Something Else” in 2010. I had never seen him perform live and it really did end up being something else.
Standing beside elderly couples, children and Hamiltonians looking on, no one knew what to expect as the band took the stage. The guitarist, keyboardist, and drummer were dressed head to toe in black with black shades covering their eyes. As the electro-pop music began to flow, the drummer drove the bass hard into our chests and Diamond Rings ran onto the stage.
John O’Regan (stage name Diamond Rings) was dressed in white, with a black studded vest and black combat boots. He took to the stage with explosive energy, grabbing the microphone and belting out the first lines of “Everything Speaks.” It was not long before the whole crowd was bobbing their heads in awe to the jump-rope rhythm. It was like watching a performer from another dimension of time and space.
The 6’5” artist began to jump up and down, encouraging the crowd to jump with him. Throughout his set he choreographed fist pumps, head bobs, and various dance moves to the choruses of his songs. The hypnotic beats were impossible to stand still to.
Diamond Rings showcased his new music off of Free Dimensional, released in 2012. The sound explores elements of post-punk and channels it through charismatic synth-pop to create a blast of otherworldly glam. Diamond Rings is a pop star, drawing his inspiration from artists like Madonna, Robyn, and Devo. There is no doubt Diamond Rings not only values great music, but personal and individual style, which he conveys throughout his songs.
John O’Regan removed his shades midway through the set to reveal heavy eye makeup and a breathtaking angelic face. His own personal look adds another element to his sound. Sweating profusely, he committed all his energy and heart to each and every song. No one could look away and no one wanted too.
His lyrics explore heartbreak, love, personal confidence and fulfillment. They are light hearted, relatable and easy to sing along, too. As he performed it was like a weight had been lifted from the crowd’s chest, and the world was less serious. He took you from your present state into a state of supreme bliss. Everyone was taking a shine to Diamond Rings, even the lady with the walker in front of me.
He played his lead single, “I’m Just Me” last and, surprisingly, most knew the words by the end of the song. Dropping the microphone, he turned to face the drummer and teasingly removed his vest. Taking a power stance, he punched his arms out to his sides and then above him to the beat. Soon enough everyone was repeating this motion. I have never seen such a performance. Diamond Rings are expensive, but this one is priceless.
Cooper Long
Assistant ANDY Editor
When Tom Murphy was growing up in Pittsburgh in the 1950s, his mother warned him that if he went near the city’s polluted rivers he would melt. Today, those same rivers are surrounded by 13 miles of continuous parkland and host one of the largest one-day rowing regattas in the United States.
As the mayor of Pittsburgh from 1994 to 2006, Murphy personally oversaw much of this remarkable transformation. Last Friday, he was in downtown Hamilton to share some of the lessons from his three terms in office.
Pittsburgh’s similarity to Hamilton gives Murphy’s insights particular weight. Indeed, the two are sister cities. Like Hamilton, Pittsburgh was formerly a centre of steelmaking. As Murphy put it, Pittsburgh’s steel mills were once so productive that “you didn’t know the sky was blue or there were stars at night.”
The city reeled when the steel industry began to collapse, but Murphy entered city hall insistent that he would not simply “manage decline.” Under his leadership, Pittsburgh turned to universities and hospitals as alternative economic engines. Today, more than forty percent of its population is employed in the technology sector.
There was another potential economic engine, however, that did not receive much attention in Murphy’s presentation. Given that he was speaking under the auspices of Supercrawl, I expected that Murphy would emphasize the role of the arts in urban redevelopment. Admittedly, he referred to the nebulous idea of “vitality” and discussed building symphony halls in Pittsburgh’s former red light district. Yet, he never made an explicit link between civic prosperity and the arts.
I was left to draw such a connection myself.
In his address, Murphy repeatedly teased the audience about a surface level parking lot visible at James North and King William. Frequenters of Motown or Homegrown will know it well. Murphy described this type of lot as “the worst use of public space in a city.” In his opinion, however, the barren lot represented not just a failure of urban planning, but also a failure of imagination. According to the veteran mayor, those in charge of a city have to “know what you wanna be.” In other words, prosperous cities demand a comprehensive creative vision.
To me, this sense of imagination and possibility is also the essence of the arts. The mentality that allows a mayor to envision 13 miles of verdant parkland along once toxic rivers is the same impulse that compels someone to splash green paint on blank canvas. Indeed, the performers and artists at Supercrawl vibrantly showcased this creative spirit.
There is a lot of academic literature about how cultural workers contribute economically to the growth of cities. To me, however, civic prosperity and the arts have an even more profound connection. Fundamentally, both are exercises of the imagination.
This may sound somewhat starry-eyed. Urban redevelopment is almost always contentious, and I am not advocating that we transplant all of Pittsburgh’s strategies. Yet, if Hamiltonians and local government can keep up a bold, artistic mindset, then the city’s future at least has the potential to be a masterpiece.
Spencer Nestico-Semianiw
The Silhouette
I’m admittedly not a huge Passion Pit fan. Upon hearing the Boston-based band were to arrive in Hamilton to headline the city’s most well-known festival, Supercrawl, I jumped at the opportunity to interview them, despite only knowing their indie breakout hit, “Take a Walk.” I had heard good things however, so I delved deeper into their music and discovered a couple more of their intricate pop creations. I was psyched to meet them.
Unfortunately, the interview didn’t pan out the way I expected. Waiting with a couple of friends behind the stage, we nervously scanned the sea of instruments and mixing boards for a glimpse of the band. After no luck, we abandoned the scene and headed to the front of the stage to watch the performance. After around half an hour, I would again leave to find their stage manager, Joe, who turned me down for the interview. “Sorry, we turned CBC down today too, we won’t be doing any interviews,” he said. Crestfallen, I rejoined the crowd, which had extended far from the stage, and was hopping joyously in response, I realized I couldn’t get into their groove, so by the time they had started “Take a Walk,” I had already taken them up on the offer.
Passion Pit is undeniably talented and showcased a sizable list of great indie pop tunes during their performance. Unfortunately, the magic of the music was lost through an annoyingly derivative performance, which is really quite a shame. Perhaps it was the fact that lead singer Michael Angelakos’ singing voice sounds like he just inhaled three liters of helium gas, or that his band literally has the same fashion style as the entire crowd that came to see them. Or maybe it was the front man’s strained theatrics, which made him look like a child throwing a temper tantrum in the presence of his more restrained counterparts. The whole affair appeared childish and ended particularly humorously when Michael picked up a piano bench during the finale, and slowly raised it into the air. Will he smash it to the ground? The crowd’s anticipation mounts at the idea of such true rock ’n’ roll devilry. But of course, Michael lowered it and dropped it a foot away from the floor, to the cheers of a satisfied audience. Passion Pit may very well be passionate about what they do, but if they are, it’s not contagious.
Tomi Milos
The Silhouette
I inspected my body the morning after a night in the mosh pit of METZ’s Supercrawl gig, and I let out a groan. After flailing around like a madman for an hour, I couldn’t lift my arms past shoulder-height, I had a nasty bruise on my hip, and my jaw was throbbing from an unlucky collision with someone else’s elbow. But honestly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The Toronto post-hardcore outfit that is Alex Edkins (vocals/guitar), Chris Slorach (bass) and Hayden Menzies (drums) are unabashedly loud. After becoming renowned for their notoriously rowdy shows, the trio bunkered down in a farmhouse turned studio with Graham Walsh and Alex Bonenfant of Holy Fuck on the boards. They churned out what is now their self-titled debut record out on the historic Sub-Pop label. After funding the entire venture out of their own pockets, Slorach said in a phone call on Thursday the 12th that, “When we made it, we assumed that we were probably going to put it out ourselves. Then we took a shot in the dark and sent it to Sub-Pop, and they really liked it so we signed with them.” It seems like a dream situation to be on a label that has lent its artists such creative freedom in the past, and Slorach reiterated the fact that both parties give each other room to breathe: “They’re a label that’s good at looking at records, and we’re a band that is supposed to be good at making music, so the relationship works really well that way; they don’t tell us what to do, and we don’t tell them what to do.”
Talking with the New Yorker in a recent interview, Edkins spoke of how they were driven by the anxiety that arises from dealing with “a modern way of life in a big city.” But to actualize their musical ideas, Slorach said it helped to escape Toronto and become fully immersed in the music. After a week at the barn, they returned to the heart of the provincial capital to flesh out the material they had. Praised for its incredibly raw feel, the eponymous record garnered rave reviews across the board. I was surprised to find that for the most part, the band wasn’t just jamming out when recording. “There were some things that we recorded together, but the majority of it was done separately. We wanted to capture the energy of our live show, but also to have a record that sounds really good,” he said.
At the time of our conversation, METZ had already been on tour for a year. When I prodded him about the possibility of a second record, he said they’d had little time to gather in a room and hash things out —their preferred writing method — but they’d been at work on new material the few days they’d been at home. Slorach said, “As of right now, it’s in the preliminary stages of the process, but we’re going to start demoing some stuff next week and it’s going really well.”
When asked about the strains that touring for long periods of time can put on the three of them, Slorach said that the maturity they’ve accrued through labouring as a band comes into play. “We all respect the fact that we’re grown men living in a van, which is odd, but we really made a conscious decision to make this thing a product of friendship. Our friendship is really important and if it were to suffer it’d be a pretty big tragedy for us.”
As if the rigours of replicating their deafening live show each night aren’t enough, the question as to if they’d even have the instruments necessary to carry it out remained up in the air, literally. Slorach recounted how their gear had been lost by Air Berlin with four shows left on their European tour. Although it showed up at his door in Toronto two and a half weeks after the fact, the airline offered no consolation. The only bright side for them was seeing how the concert promoters cobbled together equipment for them to finish off their shows.
Slorach was happier discussing the “amazing” Supercrawl lineup. For a bit of fun, I asked him what bands he’d have play the festival if he could curate it himself. “Sonic Youth, but Chelsea Light Moving [Thurston Moore’s new band] is already playing so we’re close. El-P and Killer Mike would be cool. Liars is one of the best bands I saw this year. Swans are always amazing. And Savages, who we’ve seen a lot of at festivals.”
When I asked about the effects of piracy on the band, Slorach took an optimistic stand in spite of a “crappy situation” and said, “At the end of the day, if people are enjoying the records maybe they’ll come out to the shows and support us that way”.
I would have gladly talked longer with the bassist, but class beckoned. When we next saw each other, I was in the throes of a cathartic mosh pit while he propelled a jubilant wave of sound at the crowd with his band-mates.
