Demons, doom
and dick tricks

by JOHNSON CUMMINS

Some interesting options this week. Friday, you can check out the songwriting genius of JP Houston & the Secrets at the always awesome Barfly. Do yourself a favour and do a search on your computer machine for the Christmas special he filmed to celebrate the birth of baby Jesus, and enjoy Houston’s hootenanny with some of Montreal’s brightest bands. Also on Friday night, Montreal’s most fucked up garage band, the Demon’s Claws, release their humdinger of a record Satan’s Little Pet Pig at la Sala Rossa. The rock ’n’ roll sounds of the Cockroaches warm up the Sala stage beforehand. If you haven’t heard the insane noise of the Demon’s Claws, imagine Jeffrey Lee Pierce if he’d given up bourbon for trucker speed, or Birthday Party-era Nick Cave if he’d huffed paint thinner instead of mainlining China white. Dirty, noisy, snotty, sloppy and, best of all, possessed of absolutely nothing to appeal to flavour-of-the-month hipsters—perfect.

If you want to get your guffaws out, you can check out Toronto’s White Cowbell Oklahoma at Petit Campus on Friday. Nothing could’ve been stranger than watching these northern hayseeds put on their southern shtick in front of real, red-blooded Texans at SXSW a couple of years ago, but all was forgiven when one of their guitar players yanked out his yankee-doodle-dandy, fit it with a slide and performed the solo from “Freebird” with nary a clam note. Let’s hope that Café Campus has provided the Viagra in their rider so that someone’s little Elvis might replicate such a cunning musical stunt.

Saturday night offers three shows that Australians might describe as “crackin’.” At Club Soda, it’s Sparklehorse—but do yourself a definite favour and show up early to check out openers Jesse Sykes and the Sweet Hereafter. Their new record, Like, Love, Lust and the Open Halls of the Soul, actually has the skills on display to back up the incredibly pretentious title. Sykes possesses a truly haunting voice, similar to the husky howl of Marianne Faithful, but Sykes’s transcendent, ’70s-infused songs will grab you by the heartstrings

If you aren’t into the nuances of fine-tuned pop, then a safer bet would be to check out a night of detuned doom and drunks at the Katacombes on Saturday, with Toronto’s Blood Ceremony, Hull’s Muffler Crunch and the drunken anarchy and chaos of Dutch Oven. If you find the death knells and debauchery at Katacombes a bit too tepid and, well, don’t even like music all that much, then get your misanthropic ass down to Casa for the noiseniks TTTTTTTTTTTTT, Gold Sword, Scant Intone and Wapstan. Cheapskates may also note entrance is pay-what-you-can.

Next week: Dan Burke—living proof that science is wrong, crack is actually good for you!

A bird in the hand… Jonathan.cummins@gmail.com