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Born Ruffians @ Lee's Palace, April 26

BY Adam Radwanski   April 28, 2008 11:04

Three songs into his band's set, Luke Lalonde generously offers lazy concert reviewers the easiest possible metaphor. Turn down the lights, the boyish singer-guitarist implores. It's just too hot up there, and too bright.

It practically writes itself. With their debut album generating international buzz, local boys — OK, they're originally from Midland, but close enough — return home for their biggest headlining gig to date. Tickets are snapped up in a hurry, and tastemakers are eagerly waiting to cast judgment. Do they take to the spotlight, or do they wilt under it?

Alas, the easy metaphor only goes so far. True, the room has its share of industry types skulking in the corners. But they're distinctly in the minority. A couple of years of persistent gigging have won the Born Ruffians an army of equally youthful devotees, and every one of them seems to be at a packed and very sweaty Lee's Palace tonight.

They're not here to pass judgment on every stray chord, nor to fret as the critics do about whether there's enough variety in the trio's arsenal of clap-alongs and yelpy chants (or chanted yelps). With an apparently encyclopedic knowledge of the lyrics of an album released less than two months ago, they're just here to party. This is a good thing, since they're here to see what has emerged as one of Toronto's better party bands.

That may or may not be a label the Ruffians would aspire to. While the proliferation of Pixies references still seems a little premature, the recently released Red, Yellow and Blue comes a long way from their earlier self-titled EP. It's not just that the production is light years ahead, though that certainly helps; it's also that they've learned to write tight melodies that replace a bit of their frenzy with focus. On the few occasions this night that they stray from playing every song from the new record, the contrast is stark — the more primitive older material getting by on familiarity as much as merit.

Their growing maturity is on display live, too, not least in having dispensed with their previous inclination toward gimmickry. Without antics like the group huddle that used to kick off their shows, Lalonde, bassist Mitch DeRosier and drummer Steve Hamelin actually seem more confident in their chemistry. But what remains is that they're an act more at home on stage than in the studio.

Everything about Red, Yellow and Blue is amplified live. The opening title track's mellow harmonies build more tension when there's a swarm of kids in front of the stage just waiting for the pace to pick up so they can spend the next hour hopping up and down. The sing-alongs in "Barnacle Goose" and "Kurt Vonnegut" offer a much stronger adrenaline kick when there are a couple hundred voices singing along, rather than just three. An extended version of "Little Garcon," a sweet little ballad, doubles as an energizing mid-set change of pace and an opportunity for Lalonde to showcase greater range than his normally reedy vocals would suggest.

And then, inevitably, there's "I Need a Life" — the standout anthem destined to serve as an epic closer. With a collection of friends and family storming the stage and most of the venue united in the "Oh, but we go out at night" refrain, it's the sort of communal concert experience rarely seen in this city, or possibly on this side of the Atlantic.

On the downside, Red, Yellow and Blue's one big mistake — not knowing when to quit — is also amplified. Rather than leaving well enough alone with "I Need a Life," or saving it for the encore, the boys make an anti-climactic return that culminates in "Red Elephant," the uncharacteristically bloated album closer that's more ambitious than the Ruffians really need to be at this stage.

Mind you, part of the problem might be that we're all overheated by the end of the main set. Truth be told, it's not just too hot under the lights; the whole room is scorching. Given the raw energy of the preceding hour, there's a more apt metaphor in there somewhere. 

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