Cold soul soldiers

>> Warming up to Toronto's More Plastic

By RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Funny how Toronto, notorious for still-life audiences, seems to generate the brashest bands, veritable soul-punk hurricanes like the Deadly Snakes, Danko Jones and More Plastic.

"Toronto can be a cold audience," muses More Plastic frontman Dean Sterling. "It's three years for us now, and crowds were deadpan, static for two and a half of those. Don't get me wrong--they tend to watch you really intently and then clap heavily at the end, but anything beyond that, becoming part of the show, dancing or whatever, is something that takes a hard sell."

Which is where Sterling cracks his knuckles and goes to work. His dapper mod dress code contradicts the sweaty confrontationalism he projects on stage (and just off--any open dancefloor space is by rights his as well). He's the perfect point man for the band's brand of hallucinogenic rhythm 'n' raunch, a style they've dubbed "cold soul."

"You got northern soul, which has a slightly more symphonic touch to it, because it's more urban. So cold soul is an extension of southern to northern soul, northern to cold soul. It's white boys trying to play soul with a slightly different take on the symphonic touch."

Live, the story is simple: band challenges crowd to match their sweat drop for drop. On their debut disc of last year, The Last Silver Special, the tale got twisted by Floydian slips, psychedelic warp factor and some business about "cosmic outpost number five."

"Some of the rawness was forsaken for the possibilities of what could be created in the studio. The next time we do it, the gap won't be as large, but we do still try to concentrate on recording as a separate art form. It's very visceral to do something live. You know it'll disappear in a few minutes, so if there's a little screwing around and it goes funny, but then you hit a beautiful moment, that's perfect, because people remember the beautiful moments, right?" :

With the Frenetics at Jailhouse on Monday, April 10, 9pm, $4