Saturday was a glorious day here
in the city, so I decided to take my camera downtown and creep on people. And do
other things.
I also bought asparagus.
I don’t have one of those fancy
zoom lens things, so in order to properly creep I had to get pretty close to my
subjects. I kept expecting someone to yell at me, or some law enforcement
professional to get up in my grill about privacy, but I guess I’m stealthy
enough to avoid such inconveniences.
But as an aside, does anyone know what the laws are regarding taking
photos of people in public places? In San Jose I was taking photos of some
pretty buildings and a cop stopped me, since apparently people live in those
buildings and there’s a chance I could catch a shot of exposed hiney in a
window or something. It’s a good thing he said something, since that was the
shot I was looking for. Additionally, a pool I worked at prohibited photos
because unconsenting bystanders could be caught in the background. So. Anyone?
There are a few things I actually
love about living in Edmonton, and the 104th Street market is one of
them. Farmers’ markets in general are pretty great for their selection of
locally produced goods and weird people to watch, but the 104th
Street market has the added appeal of being outside, downtown, on a street with
several restored historic buildings. The mixture of urban and rural, modern and
historic is downright nifty.
See? Urban - rural, today - yesterday.
A bit overblown... the sky was blue, FYI.
I think he wanted watermelon.
I like it when things hold still.
Meet.
Greet.
Later I headed over to the Works
festival, where I encountered another Edmonton thing I like: the
fountain/wading pool in front of City Hall. There, I discovered my camera has
the shutter speed capacity to catch water droplets in motion!
A bit dark, but you get the idea.
Probably my favourite of the day.
Feel free to leave comments—good
or bad—especially if you know something about photography. I changed my
settings so you can now comment anonymously without logging in, AND you don’t
have to prove you’re human by repeating wonky non-words. I’m desperate for
validation, people!
Hey
Heaviside. 1971 called. They want their record back.
If that
sounds like an insult, it’s not. Think back to 1971. It was a glorious time:
people strutted around in mismatched plaids, cars were as long as city blocks,
and pop lyrics were more along the lines of “There’s a lady who’s sure
all that glitters is gold / And she’s buying a stairway to heaven” than “You a
stupid ho.”
Yes,
Heaviside’s debut Wasted Generation
is loud, it’s riff-driven, and it’s retro. If you’re into solid block chords
and in-depth lyrics about plugging that special lady, you’ll be disappointed
here; this is a band that puts the music first, and all the other stuff a
distant second. In a day and age when music is as much a product as a drain
cleaner or an antidepressant, it’s nothing short of inspiring to find a band
who puts their values before the prospect of cash and commercial glory.
Nowadays,
perfect pitch is just a mouse click away, but Heaviside decided to take an
alternate route: actually playing their own instruments. Rest assured that
everything that hits your ears on this record, from every thunderous drumbeat
to each full-bodied vocal howl, is the real deal. This is the auditory
equivalent of good hearty whole-wheat bread from Grandma’s oven; no acetylated
distarch adipate or butylated hydroxyanisole here.
The album
starts off strong with the noisy, energetic “War Machine,” a tune that seems
tailor-made for a Michael Bay movie. The explosions! The frantic excitement!
The track practically begs to be cranked up and blasted out of the windows of a
car that may or may not actually be a Transformer.
And the
energy doesn’t taper from there. Track after track the adrenaline builds,
peaking with the singalong debut single “Lady.” With its steady bass groove and
easy-to-learn chorus, this is a track just made for the arena.
In fact,
this whole band is made for the arena. The kind of energy they bring to the
stage can’t be contained in small clubs. If you’re in the Edmonton area, check
out a live show. You may think you’ve seen sweaty, but until you’ve seen
Heaviside in action, you haven’t. The band is all over the stage, throwing in
the odd high leap or behind-the-head solo, and their audience is always equally
engaged.
The band’s
influences are far-flung. There’s a distinct similarity to Wolfmother, and “Aurora”
echoes Priestess. Singer Mitchell Reynaud’s vocals compare to shrieking majesty
of Chris Cornell, guitarist Johno Hermary’s nimble picking (and onstage attire)
are reminiscent of a certain man in a hat, and the overall Zeppelin-esque
impression is undeniable.
This is a
band that’s well-read when it comes to classic rock. They know what’s good. So
it’s no accident that the band went with the title Wasted Generation. You can hear it in the closing track—“Oh wasted
youth, lost in time, lost in the basement.” That’s where most of today’s youth
are, at least in terms of music.
Let’s hope
that Heaviside makes it big and today’s wasted youth, who have cut their teeth
on Rihanna and Nickelback, will learn that music is not limited to inane drum
beats, strobe lights and one-liners deriding female sexuality.
