That's the name of the indy rock festival that hits Toronto every June. This is the first year I've gone, and I'm enjoying it immensely so far. Last night we hit the famous El Mocambo and took in an Icelandic band that was clearly influenced by Sigur Ros (it must be hard to be a rock band from Iceland and not be) - they were fun and easy to listen to. Next it was Joe's for a renegade from Bran Van 3000, who was really dull and butchered 'Boys Don't Cry' by the Cure. Lastly, at the Bovine Sex Club, was a San Fransisco band called Flut, led by a screaming woman in a red dress who played a mean bass. On backup was by far the best drummer of the evening, and Lurch from the Adams Family on keyboards and trumpet (though not at the same time). They were loud, had bizarre lyrics, and were my favourite act of the night. Unfortunately C closed the night by buying a round of Jagermeister, uck.
Also, as a prequel, my basketball team claimed 5th place in our league by absolutely destroying Team Individual. It's a small feat, but it was the largest margin of victory we've ever had (38-22), so it was a good way to end the season.
ps. Beck's new album, Guero, rocks.
Labels: 2005, best of, non-fiction, Toronto