I once read a weird stats report claiming that the true way to evaluate the health of a marine community is not in the rate of unchecked growth, but rather, by measuring the proportion of chum — literally, the oily mashed-up fish carcasses that serve as bait to lure live bodies into a stream — against the influx of new blood. By that measure, 2009 was a remarkably healthy year for our local music community, one that saw the loss of some much-loved scene institutions, but also the emergence of new hopefuls, ones that ought to help Toronto-bred independent music thrive well into the next decade. Be that as it may, it’s still hard not to feel pangs of nostalgia about the cornerstones of the community that burned out, or faded away, this year.
Many of these notable disappearances are concrete — literally. In the past month alone, Toronto music fans have shed tears into their pints over the uncertain future of a pair (or a quartet, depending on how you look at it) of venues that have anchored the stretch of Queen West between Spadina and Bathurst. The Big Bop — which has served as the de facto home of the city’s punk and hardcore shows, and has supported promising folk acts upstairs in Holy Joe’s for over a decade now — will celebrate its last pogo on January 10, 2010. Perhaps even more tragic was the news that the Cameron House, a staple of the Queen West scene in its bohemian ’80s heyday, has been put on the market. Almost a month after it was first put on the block, the listing is still up on Realtor.ca, available to anyone with 2.9 million bucks to spare.
On a much smaller scale, but no less vital, the kids in Ohbijou and their extended crew said sayonara to the tiny cottage known as Bellwoods House, the home-cum-basement venue where local rising stars like Katie Stelmanis (who had great success opening for the likes of CocoRosie and Tegan and Sara this year) and Jonas “Evening Hymns” Bonnetta played some of their first shows. Friends In Bellwoods 2, the second volume of Out of this Spark’s compilation series, serves as a fitting eulogy for that unlikely community hub. And former mechanic’s shop Rolly’s Garage — a self-described modern-day version of Warhol’s Factory where young, pretty things convene for parties and art-scene gatherings — has already been shut down after its neighbours sicced fire and building inspectors on their not-quite-up-to-code venue.
Even as those venues were shuttered, shiny new possibilities sprung up, spore-like, in their wake. The Garrison, a labour of love for former Sneaky Dee’s booker Shaun Bowring and his business partner, Lee Van Veghel, is already thriving. Mere months after it officially opened in September, the spacious venue boasts a stacked dance card of great shows, including the last gasp of weekly Wavelength gigs.
But things weren’t always rosy in the land of alternative venues: cops busted the ninth installment of roving after-hours series Extermination Music Night when the guerilla crew took over an abandoned Kodak factory at Eglinton West and Black Creek Drive. Perhaps even more upsetting: rogue attendees swiped gear and art pieces, all dear to the hearts of organizers and participating artists.
Happily, one positive trend that surfaced throughout 2009 was the increasing preference on the part of artists to perform in relatively cozy venues. From Neko Case (who chose the glorious Trinity-St. Paul’s for the local launch of her Grammy-nominated Middle Cyclone disc) to Metric (who touched down at the Mod Club for the XM Awards) to The Dead Weather and Vampire Weekend (who followed in the footsteps of the Rolling Stones and Franz Ferdinand by packing the ’Shoe for intimate album preview events), high-profile acts eschewed big-box venues for fan-friendly shows in smaller spaces.
One hopes that these choices benefit the city’s grassroots promoters, who are vanishing at a rapid rate. On that note, 2009 brought the news that beloved promo/booking powerhouses RootMeanSquare (Amy Hersenhoren) and Against the Grain (Craig Laskey and Jeff Cohen) will be uniting into a single show-staging force in the new year. We wish them all the best of luck and eagerly await news of their future shows.
To end 2009 on a high note, let’s celebrate the ongoing successes of local artists. Consistently awesome heart-soul-and-metal duo Lullabye Arkestra signed a deal with Vice Records, a label with an ideology and aesthetic that’s more suited to Justin Small and Kat Taylor-Small’s mighty drums-and-bass assault than their previous home, Constellation Records. Timber Timbre, a.k.a. Brooklin, Ontario–bred Taylor Kirk, released one of the finest albums of the year not once, but twice: first, with the wonderful Out of this Spark, and then with Arts&Crafts, who’ve helped inch Timber Timbre all that much closer to world domination. Speaking of international success: Toronto fuzz-rock outfit Little Girls became blogosphere darlings, just in time to celebrate the seventh (!) anniversary of their label, Paper Bag Records, who marked their Seven Year Itch with a sampler compilation and a big ol’ party at The Phoenix. And in a move that many suggest will bolster a certain national music award’s indie cred, punk (or “pop-core,” as some have described them) ensemble Fucked Up walked away with this year’s Polaris Music Prize — and promptly used the money for good, not evil, with a charity Christmas single which is for sale via iTunes. Well done, guys.
On a more personal note, 2009 — and this column, specifically — marks the end of my tenure weighing in as EYE WEEKLY’s Street Spirit overseer. It’s been a real privilege to have the opportunity to write about local artists and innovators — my heroes and my first musical loves — every week for the past couple years. Thanks to everyone who ever bothered to skim this space for taking the time to read about Toronto’s brightest and best; thanks to Toronto’s brightest and best for your incredible and inspiring work. And most importantly, I want to thank my editors — especially Dave Morris — for being such salt-of-the-earth guys, and for caring more about local music than folks at any other print publication in the city. See you around.