YACHT—”a band, a belief system and a business”—is the kind of act that exceeds every expectation you might have of seeing them live. The dance-pop duo is making their living off of showboating, playing energetic shows masked as old-timey country revivals in small, packed bars.

But before YACHT came on, my friends and I got to Wrongbar in time to catch the very last strains of Bobby Birdman’s set and say a quick hello to electro-pop singer MNDR. Here’s the thing about kooky singers making synth music: it’s never usually very good because so many “artists” are doing it. I mean, sure people will dance around and have a good time, but in the end it doesn’t pull you in. MNDR is precisely the opposite. So she looks weird, with these gigantic white-framed glasses, but she’s working the board and belting her heart out. Talking to the audience, intro-ing songs and telling us about each one also meant we could invest in her performance. It’s incredibly difficult to be a one-woman show and still command attention from your audience, but I’d say everyone was pretty rapt. On a smoke break after her six-song set, I overheard more than a few people saying they enjoyed it—a difficult task for an opener.

Afterward, MNDR DJ’d while the packed crowd waited for YACHT. The backers—including Bobby Birdman on bass—came out first dressed in tuxedos then leads Jona and Claire, Jona in a ’60s, back-country style white tux with suspenders. They jumped, and jumped, and jumped, and jumped. Claire made black lipstick look so good. They sang and played guitar and had more personality than I’ve seen in most performers. They left me wondering why they don’t have a bigger following, because their music is the strangest combination of upbeat pop belying semi-apocalyptic lyrics and themes. At one point, Jona jumped down into the crowd—which had been dancing sweatily for some time now—and got everyone around him to get down on one knee (and we obliged, I mean, who wanted to be the loser still standing?) and follow his lead in an ominously aspirational invocation. So we’re all bent over and Jona is crouched in the middle, preaching to us—telling us to take control of our lives and, essentially, stop letting the man get us down. It really brought home the theme of the show: a glorious indie-pop revival.

In an earlier post on here, Simon lamented that Weezer’s Lil Wayne collaboration was the equivalent of an ex-girlfriend you still have mixed feelings for “contracting Syphilis for the fifth time.”

I’m afraid to ask what one would be with wussy soprano sax legend/running joke Kenny G?

This video speaks for itself, but come on. This isn’t even funny in the ironic hipster sort of way.

TV on the Radio is one of my absolute favourite bands. So when I found out that Kyp “The Beard” Malone, one third of the Brooklyn trio, was releasing a solo side project called Rain Machine, I was pretty excited. Malone—a singer and guitarist—is known for a super-sweet falsetto and plumping up TVOTR’s sound with his rhythmic knowledge.

I listened to the self-titled record when it came out and loved how personal and intimate it is. I also interviewed Malone for my side gig over at Exclaim!

And so last night I decided to head over to Lee’s Palace to see the show.

Indie-folk singer Sharon Van Etten opened the show, accompanying herself on guitar for nine or 10 songs. She mentioned that she’s toured with Canadian band, Great Lake Swimmers, and I was really impressed by the power and control in her voice. My friend and I were trying to pin down who she sounds like, because her vocals are quite distinct. I kind of thought she sounded like a less-Irish variant of The Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan, but my friend thought she sounded more like Canadian singer Julie Doiron.

I’ve got to give props to the sound guys at Lee’s for the acoustics last night. Both Van Etten and Rain Machine sounded stunning. This is why I will always value going to small club shows—there’s nothing more amazing than being able to hear all the nuances in a musician’s work, live.

After a brief break, Malone came on with three other band members. He announced they were missing a fifth, Heidi, and all night kept making reference to her. I feel like that was a glimpse into how he works: genuinely collaboratively. They worked methodically through almost all of the tracks on Rain Machine, stopping only to program loops and switch guitars. Malone has a relatively quiet demeanor but he made jokes during transitions and interacted with the crowd, talking about a local barkeep in Detroit and throwing us the requisite ‘Polite Canadians’ reference.

Early in the set they played the anthemic, jangly “Smiling Black Faces” which sounded probably even better live than it does on the record. Another highlight was his completely solo performance of a track he wrote prior to recording the album. The sprawling track featured an extended guitar intro, plugged-in folksiness and had Malone showcasing his depth of vocal range. You could tell just where TVOTR gets a lot of their signature style from. “Winter Song” closed the show and it was just insane—there’s a lot of quietness to the songs on Rain Machine, but there’s also a lot of loud intensity there as well. They chose to end on loud: I’m talking wailing guitars, feedback, banging drums, just layers and layers of noise.

The one disappointment was the sparse turn-out. In a weird way, I was kind of embarassed that probably a little over 50 people showed up to a really epic show with a lot of cache. In the end, however, it made for a really special set with a private feeling.

As I traverse the late stages of my twenties, I find myself starting to grow leery of all-ages events.

I’m not old, don’t get me wrong. I’m merely old enough that the idea of being surrounded by teenagers taking pictures of themselves is usually enough to deter me from seeing a show.

Still, I braved the Opera House on Saturday night in order to check a lineup of loveable local talent: The Meligrove Band, The Acorn and headliners The Born Ruffians. It was The Shit (in a good way).

Openers The Meligrove Band are an act that I thought would blow up when I first heard them, but never really caught on despite being a popular campus radio band and getting considerable hype from the Canadian indie press. According to lead singer Jason Nunes, the group’s long anticipated second album is currently being mastered and expected to release within the next “couple of weeks”. As such, I was a little surprised that Meligrove played only a few new songs during its half-hour set, but old familiars from their LP Planets Conspire sounded great and they closed with roaring crowd pleaser “Our Love Will Make The World Go Round” .

As a side note, part of the reason Meligrove has such a distinctive sound has always been Nunes’ piano contribution, but of all the times I’ve seen them he’s only had a real piano once, instead preferring to just play guitar. That one show with the piano was by far my best experience. Nitpicking, I know, but just sayin’.

Next up were The Acorn, who upon walking on stage and feeling the ambience wasn’t quite coffeehouse enough, strung up some LED christmas lights on their microphone stands. The crowd loved it. Somewhere, my inner curmudgeon cracked a wry smile.

The Acorn have gained a following by playing bedroom music — tunes that sound like they were made in a bedroom, perfect for listening to in … your bedroom. Preferably late at night. Ploughing through essentially all of their album Glory Hope Mountain, the Ottawa band had the swelling exuberance waving lighters and tapping feet en mass as acoustic jams such as “Crooked Legs” and “Oh Napoleon” captured all the nuance of their studio efforts, but with a vibrancy and energy I’d never have guessed the band possessed.

With each member of the band playing multiple instruments, including two drummers, two ukelele’s and four plaid shirts, the Acorn managed to transform their sound from lonely city streets to bright city lights without losing any of their solitary and dreamy (ok, I’ll say it; emo) essence. I was impressed by their energy and can see why their shows are consistently sold out. Also, their lead singer looks like Bret from Flight of the Conchords.

It should be noted that to complete the “cute Ontario indie-bands” motif of this show, the sound guy was playing the new Ohbijou album in-between sets. I was half expecting a hugging contest to break out in the crowd, but I digress.

By the time The Born Ruffians took the stage, the building was ready to boil over. One thing I’ve noticed about the Ruffians is that their shows largely attract friends and family. This was highlighted when they shouted out their childhood town of Midland, Ontario and almost half the crowd exploded. In fact, a conversation behind me consisted mainly of a guy talking about how he knew the band from his high school. I had the distinct impression this was not an uncommon topic on this night.

Playing to an extremely drunk, young, energetic and friendly crowd, the Toronto threesome did not disappoint. Produced by Animal Collective and Panda Bear veteran Rusty Santos, the Ruffians are almost diametrically opposed to those acts — immediately accessible and focused on having a good time.

Unlike Meligrove, the headliners devoted over half their set to new material, sharing that they were taking a break from studio recording to play this show — admittedly the biggest they had ever performed.

I couldn’t make out any titles or lyrics to the new songs, but from what I heard they seem to be a fairly natural evolution of the band’s sound; slightly more mellow while pushing their already unique arrangements towards longer and more idiosyncratically structured rhythms.

But that’s not what all the kids came to see.

Foot stomping crowd favourites such as “Hummingbird” and “Foxes Mate for life” were sprinkled in along with almost all of their buzzy power-pop singalong anthems from LP Red, Yellow & Blue.

By the time they closed their set with “Barnacle Goose“, I thought the building was going to implode. After the final song, they came out for a two song encore dedicated to “Steve,” who apparently has been with them since “the beginning” and was waving from the crowd. That was followed by what seemed to be an unintelligible garage jam session. More importantly however, the crowd screamed through all of it and the three band members stayed on stage for a good 10 minutes afterwards high-fiving everyone towards the front of the audience then jumping into the sea of humanity and being carried away.

I don’t really know what happened, but it sure seemed to be awesome.

To be young again.