Review by Andrew Parker
Photography by Rodney Gitzel
The first course for the audience appeared in the
form of Revulva,
a hard-rocking quartet of East Vancouver women
who tilted and thrusted their way through a short opening set.
More than a few people were seduced by the band's pelvic, booming
sounds, not to mention some of the tastiest leather pants since
the Lizard King. Epicurious himself would have been lusting! The
band lent their four-chord attack to what eventually reigned as
the most surprising cover of the evening, a campcore rendition
of "Don't Cry for Me Argentina." Revulva's interpretation
reminded me how cover tunes are best performed when they are removed
from their 'popular context' and remodeled using unexpected instruments
and arrangements. To finish, the musicians from Revulva destroyed
the illusions of the few people crowded up to the stage by screaming
"I Don't Want to Sleep with You!" as one of their final
tunes. Of course, in true recognition of the punk aesthetic, rejection
makes the heart/loins grow fonder, and on this evening the crowd
in attendance was no exception.
Following a brief interlude, the Technicians of the
Sacred were in the house. The band embraced the Niagara aurally
and provided a tightly-played and cool set. In particular, the
guitarist was impressive, creatively exploring his fretboard and producing
sounds that fit snugly with the larger hiphop beat. While the
guitarist focused on these killer riffs, the same, unfortunately,
cannot be said for the bassist, whose performance seemed a bad
parody of a Flea
instructional video. His tongue control problems
were hard to tolerate, ultimately overshadowing his work on bass.
Vocals were in capable hands, playfully weaving clever rhymes
that were eagerly consumed by the relaxed audience. Overall, the
Techies were a joy to hear, sending my memory on a trip to the
funk-heavy melodies of early Urban Dance Squad.
Victoria's pride, dyed-in-the-wool country-punkers the Vinaigrettes took the role of headliners for the evening. During their introduction by a devoted fan/Niagara staff member, lead singer Carolyn Mark demonstrated how well her hands substituted for a friends' missing bra, a hilarious moment that merely scratched the surface of the band's hyperbole. I for one was mildly disappointed that bassist Scott Henderson did not bring along the slinky number he was wearing on the band's aptly titled disc Gross Negligee. Oh well, the fashion end of things was handled by Mark, who viciously looked the part of a jaded waitress at Mel's Diner, the 'Kiss my Grits' scrawled on her ass merely punctuating the obvious.
It is well known that this band plays a smoking version
of "Ring of Fire." Not ones to disappoint, the Vinaigrettes
ripped into the cover and ignited the dancefloor... though
unfortunately, a few confused deadheads thought the song needed
an extended jam. On "Blindspot," a blackly ironic tune
about the bliss involved in running over a loved one, the commanding
guitars were handled expertly by Brigette Wilkins, whose playing
all evening was fantastic.
The Vinaigrettes' sound, a collage of twang and intelligently
caustic lyrics, is a pleasure to experience. Whether it's the
invitations ("Ladies choice for all you dancers") or
the shit-eating grins on their faces, the band's performance imbues
the music with a down-home, backporch quality. Perhaps the finest
moment for the band happened during "Tsunami,"
an instrumental dedicated to Vancouver's Surfdusters which saw
the Vinaigrettes rock the Niagara with the full-gale force of said
west coast storm.
All told, it was a high energy exaltation of a night. People were primed for risky music and committed antics. If the atmosphere at Under the Volcano '97 turns out to be this spicy, then I can hardly wait!
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