Taken (by me) at the G8 Summit in Hokkaido, 2008.

I have been involved in a few protests the past four or five years, and although there have been many discussions and fights over, say, , there has been, from the perspective of this music geek, a definitive lack of discussion on the music at these events.  Unfortunately, aggressively egalitarian anarcho-politics do not lend themselves to a discerning music selection, which has been to our detriment.  There is an assumption that because we are all there in a common cause, we are all there in common taste.  This has left my capitalist-smashing spirit dampened a few too many times at the sight and sounds of sweaty, rhythmless and tone-deaf protesters unfortunately attempting to get their, and our, groove on.

At the same time, there has been a definite improvement in the sounds of North American lefty protest over the past few generations, from the weak-willed, but earnest, harmony driven folk of the 1960s.  As Bob Dylan proved rather early on, .  So a reliance on the lungs and ululations of protesters cannot be positive, especially after so many throats were torn on the punk and riot grrrl songs driving the movement in the 1980s and 1990s.

Recently, I’ve noticed a great emphasis on the aforementioned rhythm, which seems to best capture the tense atmosphere at demos these days (at one of the first big protests during the 2010 Olympics, a choir kicked it old school with some folk harmonies, and it was a kind of lovely contrast to the helicopters shooting by overhead and the police puffed up like a hundred Michelin Men.  But when it went back to rhythm, it just felt ‘more right’, and more confrontational, and during the protests these days of the something that lights a fire in the belly is only a good thing).  So, when everyone’s in sync, it really works.

For instance, one of the best rhythm-heavy pieces I’ve seen recently was at the protest on Feb. 12.  At some point after the activists had settled in front of GM Place,  a small group of Aboriginal Canadians got together and pounded and sang a looping, slow melody.  The non-Aboriginal in the crowd quieted down and we pushed ourselves back to allow the singers room to bang their drums.  It brought in sharp focus the relatively recent effort to place anti-colonial struggle at the centre of the whole movement in this country. .

(I used to have a video of it too, which was accidentally damaged in, let’s say, a fire, rather than me accidentally formatting my SD card).

This week, a short video of the Apollo Ghosts in their rehearsal space on Hastings near Abbott.  I’ve often passed by the strange, goofy artwork outside the building, and I was happy to discover that it was a good representation of what was happening inside — in this case the rock ‘n’ roll music that have been honing there in their spare time for the past few years.

In the words of singer/guitarist Adrian Teacher, all this rocking is all “for fun” — something to do after work.  In his case, that means teaching in an elementary school, while bassist Jay Oliver works at a grocery story, and drummer Amanda Panda works for the government (she refuses to name the branch or the agency: “people might get mad if they found out,” she said).

And so I don’t know if they’re crazy geniuses or what (), because while the music is fun, and rather simple, it certainly isn’t just tossed off.  It’s energetic, playful, ragged, and infectious — the perfect adjectives to strive for when you’ve only got an hour or two to rock with your friends before giving yourself back to the responsibilities of adult life, and, seemingly, middle class adult life: dinner parties, papers to grade, groceries to pick up on the way home.

A few years ago, The Globe and Mail arts critic Carl Wilson investigated class divisions in music and the dissipation of the idea of ‘bohemia’.  : “Personally, I feel like we can and should do without the Romantic quest for excess, and one of the strengths of alternative music/art scenes now is that in aggregate they do. There’s a lot less grandeur and more of a what-the-hell, playful, toss-it-at-the-wall attitude”.

What better way to describe a band like the Apollo Ghosts?

Their music does not seem set out to change one’s life, but to fit in snugly with it.  It understands the building blocks and limitations of rock ‘n’ roll (and it’s rock ‘n’ roll

these cats are playing: just listen to that croon), and I think that’s sort of the point.  When jobs and responsibilities take precedence, then the gift of this kind of music is, perhaps, its simple, short bursts of joy. It doesn’t pretend that it can change the world, but it doesn’t either.  It is a humble kind of rocking.  Thankfully, it actually rocks.

I hope you enjoy the video.  Here is another one too:

Click here to view the embedded video.

Everything was recorded on March 15.

***

Quick call out: I’ve been trying to find, for months, some female rappers that once took part in the Oppenheimer Homeless Band project last year.  If anyone knows a way to them from this vague description, drop a line in the comments.  I’d love to film them.

Today’s recording is of the flamenco music from the Kino Café, a small bar at Cambie and 18^th, that features flamenco music in some form or another five days a week.

Editing the footage for the video, I was reminded of a quote from Ian Cross, a music professor at Cambridge: “While music may be in our biologies, our culture is in our music.”

I always take this quote as speaking to both the ubiquity and diversity of music across human history, but also to the dilemma faced by the pastiche artist. The flamenco dancers and musicians at the Kino Café are faithful to the traditional form of Spanish flamenco, and yet what culture can they evoke but Vancouver’s? Before their set, they change in a tiny, unusable bathroom, and hang out in the kitchen, trying to stay out of the way of the hectic cooks. During their performances, a TV flickers in the back, buses rumble past, and neon seeps through the window. Their performances, while tremendous, reveal the relative obscurity that live flamenco music faces in Vancouver today.

And they are driven, biologically or not, to make this music regardless of the obscurity. Each does so with varying degrees of success: Both guitarist Peter Mole and dancer Karen Pikethly survive as performers and instructors. But Maria Avila, the youngest dancer, works three jobs to stay afloat; Michelle Harding writes for online publications; Nicola C. works as a programmer. Jose Luis Lara, whose name is on the posters, is now 77 and retired. He began singing flamenco at the age of twelve, and continued to do so when he moved to Vancouver in 1967. He worked in the steel industry.

This was recorded on February 25 and March 6, 2010.

.

18!

Not bad, you might say. Ample pickings for the live music fan?

Let’s check the math. Vancouver’s population, from the 2006 census, is 578,041.

The twin cities of Kitchener-Waterloo, meanwhile, also have 18 shows on offer, according to their Savage-endorsed alt-weekly. But that’s 18 shows for 302,143 people.

And Winnipeg, with a population of 633,451, has 44 live shows tonight. 44! That’s a number to aim for.

Oh, and it’s Canadian Music Week in Toronto. That means like 44 concerts an hour.

“Well,” one could argue, “Vancouverites are notoriously laid back. The effort to head out and see some live music goes against the down-home lights-off spirit of the whole enterprise.”

Except every other person you talk to in this city is from somewhere else, like Winnipeg and KW. And there are plenty of people upset about this sleepy city.

Which prompts the question: Is Vancouver devolving?

Recent work studying the origins of music suggest that, as an extension of language, music has been fundamental to the expansion of the human brain. In 2001, three Simon Fraser University professors edited a book called, perfectly enough, The Origins of Music

, which examines music making’s evolutionary functions. The literature suggests sexual display, parental care, coordinating group action, and the domestication of animals.

Domestication of animals and mating rituals?  That’s hilarious, and it suggests music is an essential part of human development.

But if it is so essential, where is it in Vancouver?  Are we not raising any kids in this city?  Are we not domesticating any animals?

This blog is an excuse to find the cornucopia of music that must surely be happening off the 18 or so main stages.  So every week I will bring you the field recordings I find from the cracks and the corners of the No Fun City.  I expect the songs are just bursting out like weeds.

Tomorrow is flamenco.  I hope you enjoy.