This new year, instead of heralding in a flurry of new concert reviews for the site, brought copious amounts of school work for all parties involved with the continuing project that is All Tomorrow's Concerts. We’re hoping that all you wonderful people out there will forgive our staff for the unbelievable belatedness of this first review of the year, coming in a staggering month and a half after Auld Lang Syne rang clear across the nation. With that out of the way, on to the review!
Starlight Social Club is Waterloo's hub for live indie music. Whether it's due to the ridiculous amount of university students in the area (they make up 40% of the local population) or simply to Waterloo's small town charm, Starlight manages to attract a plethora of high caliber indie acts such as Caribou, Stars, Constantines, and most recently, Luke Doucet. An impromptu snow storm had buried the town under a good foot and a half of heavy wet snow that effectively filtered the weak-of-heart from the real fans in the crowd. It was a small crowd, but as it would turn out, a good crowd.
The Machines, a three piece rock outfit with a hint of blues, opened the show up promptly at 10:30 and scored some bonus points by immediately breaking into song, sparing the audience the tediousness of the warm up/sound check. At best, their sound was full of rock hooks and chords with a slight twangy, bluesy feel, plus some really great harmony between bassist [insert name here] and guitarist Steve. At worst, they sounded benign and indistinguishable from any other "trying-to-make-it" opening rock band. However, those moments were more than compensated for by the bands' bantering with the crowd, indulgent guitar solos and shameless self promotion of the merchandise they forgot to bring. Throw in an obligatory cover, some mid-guitar solo scissor kicks and you've got yourself a fun opener, who, to their credit, played like the bar was packed.
Luke Doucet took the stage clad in a sport coat with a red tie and jeans that were far too tight, even for his skinny-white-boy physique. Among the standard show equipment on stage was a most non-standard telephone receiver, hanging from a microphone stand, that Luke cleverly used to warp his voice into something distant and raspy for the opening song "Mitzi". It was Luke's voice and lyrics that brought the faithful in from the blizzard. Each song was given its own flavor by Luke's western Canadian articulation. Nowhere was his voice more piercing and poignant than during "Brother", a song he put in context for the audience by throwing in a half-serious plug for his brother Paul's cocaine hustling on the streets of Winnipeg. "Only by the grace of God will I see you again," he sang and the whole audience felt it.
A well-deserved alcohol break for bassist Bazil Donovan and drummer Barry Mirochnick made time for Luke to show off his prowess with an acoustic. He crooned out three songs, including the exceptional "New Orleans", whose guitar lick is stuck in my head to this day. Upon the return of his band mates, Doucet broke into the set's only true rock song, "I Hate Your Lipstick". The song, belonging to Luke Doucet's band, Veal, had the affect of tearing everyone from the mellow acoustic reverie that had been established earlier by Luke's stint with the acoustic. A rarity, to be sure, the song was at odds with the rest of the evening's fare, which either came from Aloha Manitoba, or Broken (and other rogue nations). The song appeared to be an attempt at bringing some youthfulness to his show; Luke moaned about how he felt old listening to the Machines play their fun rock, and how he had resigned himself to being the Neil Young of the evening. But with his baby-faced expression and boyish air, Doucet really has a long way to go before he can legitimately claim geriatric status.
Other than hinting at Luke's possible midlife crisis, the show also served to underline the continuing inadequacy found in current recording technology. Live, Luke Doucet's music takes on a life and character of its own. The guitar sounds more vibrant and crisp. Clever lyrics, like "you've got to have a heart to have a broken one" sound genuinely cheeky and bitter. Every nuance of Luke's voice can be heard, bringing a depth to his songs which no studio recording has yet been able to satisfactorily capture. You can become a Luke Doucet fan by listening to his albums, but ultimately, only through live concerts will you fully appreciate his talent.
-Ludwik A. Sobiesiak
