It was a last minute decision to take in Big Sugar’s Halifax
show Friday, a whim that turned out to be one hell of a night. Returning to the Olympic Hall, the same space
where I saw the Sheepdogs felt like déjà vu.
Only two of us this time, we entered the venue, got our Sonic Concert
bracelet, grabbed a beer and advanced to the front of the room. We arrived a bit later than last time so we
were just parking ourselves front row center for the opening act, The
Balconies. I think they are an Ontario
band but don’t quote me, fronted by a sister/brother duo and backed by a
friend. They delivered a vigorous and earsplitting
set of songs to a somewhat older crowd than I remember from the previous
show. Perhaps it has more to do with Big
Sugar’s appeal and their longevity? One
can only surmise.
Suffice it to say, due to the ferocious delivery of their
set, I had a difficult time deciphering one song from the other not that I’m
versed at all when it comes to their discography. As it was intended, they were loud and brash
and unapologetic. I confess I spent very
little time watching the brother and friend contingent of the band because
Jacquie Neville was riveting. Mix the rock
‘n’ roll attitude of Juliette Lewis when she’s on stage with The Kicks, the sex
of Peaches and a dash of Katy Perry pretty and you have a potent front woman. Her antics scream metal, her attire of black shiny
tights, a cut off tiger tee and white 80s ankle boots with blood red lips
accenting her wide blue eye and jet black hair that she swung expertly as she
crunched her guitar bellows girl power and later her cutesy back-up singing swing softened her demeanor
some.
I found the mix of their sound incredibly painful. It was all high end no vocal. The sheer volume and the close proximity to
the stage may have contributed. While I
was rapt visually, sonically I was not.
It seemed more like indecipherable noise which can be good when you know
what you’re listening to but musically it the set didn’t hold a lot of weight
for me. I was secretly pleased when they
were finished.
During the quick stage reset I could feel the room fill
up behind me without having to look. The
heat was mounting quickly. I was
grateful that I opted to wear a t-shirt despite the freezing temperature and
bone numbing wind chill outside.
Tom Bedell took the stage and amped up the ripe crowd to
introduce Big Sugar on the second last stop of their ‘Eliminate YA’ tour. One by one, the band took the stage, the roar
of hands pounding together and hoots and whistles brought smiles to their laid
back faces. According to Tom Bedell,
Gordie Johnson visited the Q104 Hunger Strike earlier that day in Mic Mac Mall
(a fundraiser for the pending holidays) and he saved his voice for the show because
he was really sick and was determined to give his all. He was indeed visibly mill but it didn’t stop
him from blowing all of us away with what he does best.
I’m a really big fan of Big Sugar’s unique blend of rock,
blues and reggae. Despite the earthy
sounds of dingy blues bars and Jah love, to me, they sound distinctly Canadian.
Let it be noted that Big Sugar are also
the loudest band I’ve ever witnessed live.
Not uncomfortable loud like their openers, but rather a massive wall of delicious
sound with deep penetrating layers of funky wallpaper.
The two hour show was deluged with popular Big Sugar
standards, often bookended by blues breaks, raps and funk. During the course of the show Gordie was able
to show off a parade of loud guitars, the stuff of fan boy’s wet dreams. They were beautiful and generated sounds that
could only be conjured from his adept fingers.
(Big Sugar rockin' it in Halifax)
I got lost in the show.
Being front row center watching Gordie’s hands play like he does, feeling
the kick drum in my teeth, so close to the monitors striped with red, green and
yellow duct tape that many of the details absorbed into my skin instead of into
my memory. I loved it so much I
literally forgot where I was and felt like the music was an extension of me. I know it sounds corny but that’s how I felt.
I can share with you, two highlights.
‘All Hell For a
Basement’ is my all-time favorite Big Sugar song. I’ve heard it covered in bars all over this
great city but nothing truly compared to hearing it from its source. To add more magic to the song, it was one of
the ones where the crowd out-sung the band.
Gordie raised his microphone stand and held it over the sea of singing
faces, closed his eyes and smiled so contented and mouthed, ‘I love that sound.’ I was overwhelmed by emotion in that moment
and felt tears spring to my eyes. I
managed to swallow them down to avoid looking like a nerd but I was awash with
emotion. To me, those are the most profound
moments of a live show, when everyone is so connected by music, in unison, such
a beautiful thing.
Gordie then shredded his way through a gripping rendition
of ‘O Canada’ on 12 string, it doesn’t
get any more patriotic than that. In the
last strains of the guitar laden execution, he raised his axe to rest behind
his head revealing a proud Canadian flag on the underneath. The crowd, primarily made up of the band’s
male counterparts, thundered with approval.
It’s such an honour to be from such a grand country full of talented
kinfolk.
(The Moncton show but you get the idea)
In short, in case you didn’t catch it, Big Sugar were
dynamite. They promoted love, rock ‘n’
roll and the power of positive ahem … smoking.
This all confirmed by the sheer number of weed that showered the stage
from fists flinging it forward. With the
smell of incense and marijuana wafting through the air, it was one hell of a
high.
The end of the show was something I hadn’t encountered before. Gordie came down from the stage and
graciously accepted accolades from everyone in the front row. I was content with my fist bump while my
concert buddy rallied for the set-list that was being peeled from the stage
floor. I am used to seeing the ladies
surging forward grasping for the opportunity to get backstage but this night I
was literally crushed against the barricade by a sausage fest trying
desperately to catch Gordie’s attention, to be heard, to have a photo taken, to
have their moment. This was unfortunate
for me because I’m only small and these guys were full of muscles, testosterone
and intention. I came away with a slight
ache and a light bruise across my rib cage.
Oy vey. Boys.
And again, up until this point, Big Sugar have been
the loudest band I’ve seen live. My ears
clogged over to protect themselves and I could still feel the reverb fluttering
around in my chest en route home. Fun level
and blissed out range = eleven on a scale of one to ten.
I never wanted them to turn the lights on. I could have grooved all night. So glad we went.
Gordie Johnson is a Canadian treasure. Big Sugar is da bomb.
It's Monday. It's also a new month! I can't believe it's December already. Whoa.
Go easy.
In propinquity,
Nic
