Indian Grove Review

The following is a review of the Indian Grove house show that happened a few weeks ago, written by Andy Stammers, guitarist for BORED STIFF (who are playing tonight at Siesta) and author of VOMIT! zine. If you are interested in contributing to the blog, please let us know!

april twenty-fifth two thousand and nine. i awoke from a lovely dream i can no longer recall at about two pm. it was much earlier than i had intended on waking up, but i arose anyways. i sat around, ate, and did normal morning (or early afternoon) tasks until four-thirty, when i left to get the bus.

while waiting at the terminal for the second of three buses i would have to catch to get to islington, the wind began to pick up, howling loudly and picking up every piece of dirt and litter and scattering it messily. i was hoping the weather would at least improve a little by the time i hit the city.

at about six-thirty, i stepped off the subway at dundas west. i had much time to kill, so i sat in king slice for a good hour, eating a slice of arrabiatta and watching the weather calm. i then began to walk down bloor to hits and misses, and spent the rest of my money on the “ancient wound” lp by chronic seizure. it being at least eight pm by this point, i made my way back down bloor. i turned the corner at indian grove and ran into my pals in hazardous waste. we all hopped into jon’s van and drove over to pizzaiolo and by nine forty-five, returned to the house. people had begun to show up, kids were all over the street, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes. i went upstairs to see pissed to the eye setting up their gear.

they began playing around ten pm, and played a tight set of rowdy party punk songs. they had noticeably changed their drummer, this new dude being half the size and not having a beard. this band always sounds more awesome live than on myspace, and i have, to an extent, enjoyed both the times i’ve seen them live. they always seem to have one small minor part in each song that distrupts the flow, but they’re doing what they want to do, and i respect that. their singer always has cool dance moves, which i also think is pretty rad.

warren and sean showed up right after pissed to the eye finished, just in time to have a smoke and play their set. along with the calbeck brothers, two cop cruisers showed up, but left after telling everyone to keep the drinking inside. rich still being in europe, jon played his last fill-in set with them, and despite his own claims of not knowing any of the songs, except “rat in a cage”, they sounded good. the new songs all sound awesome, i can’t wait for them to finish putting out their new demo. they covered blitz and fang, and played “watch me rise” with a totally revised intro, making it sound all slow and droning. it was a tank top night for all real members of the band, jon later claiming that he never wears tank tops, ever. their set was a good twenty minutes, as usual, and drunken, as usual.

by this time, the house began to feel much like a sauna. feeling sweaty and dehydrated, i took my opportunity to run to seven eleven to get a slurpee. i did so with haste, grabbing a handful of double bubble at the same time. shortly after getting back, the school jerks came on. clearly not to be out drunken by the young kids in molested youth, they did exactly what i expected them to do: got real wasted and played fast snotty punk. it was my first time ever seeing them, and i enjoyed them a lot. their singer filled the time between songs with drunken, incoherent banter. their guitarist played the same guitar as warren. finally seeing them was a real treat. during their set however, the mic began to cut out, but their singer was too drunk to notice.

by the time hazardous waste started playing, the mic was utterly useless. sean calbeck sang a cover of “straight edge revenge” to start their set. the irony. they proceeded on with all their classics, “slave”, “profit and power”, “skate block”, “fed up”, and the songs merely known as “new”. i sang a cover of “boiling point” for them, and spent eighty percent of it sprawled out of the ground with everyone piling on top of me. their set was the usual length, half and hour to forty-five minutes, and full of normal durk mayhem: falling down, losing the microphone, speaking gibberish instead of the words. the set was pretty typical for haz was, which is a good thing, they’re probably one of the most “get up and dance” bands toronto has to offer right now.

the show ended at easily one am, and everyone hung around outside for a while. the cops showed up for their second time in the night, but no one gave a fuck. the haz was crew packed up their things and at one thirty, we all crammed into the mystery machine and headed out.


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