DJ Tyler Fedchuk quickly engaged the clutch and threw down a thick industrial dance set, cleansing the palette and dissolving any residue left over from the somewhat “out of place” sound of Nucular Aminals.

  Los Angeles’ Jeremy Jay took to the stage next, along with his band, and proceeded to move the crowd with chill summer jams. The band shared the stage with beautiful chemistry, providing each individual with a clean, strong presence, which created a sound that was both familiar and unique. The balance was exposed elegantly during the bands performance of their single “Caught In A Whirl,” where the threading of Jay’s focused and bouncy guitar licks, weaving in and out of the contrasting rigid drum beats and melodic, rhythmic bass lines allowed the soft synth lines to rise from the swell as a floating firework that hangs colourfully and hauntingly in the air.

  Their music almost takes you by the hand, away from the torrential rainstorm that is Vancouver, and into a sunny bike ride through a palm tree-clad Los Angeles Beach Avenue enveloped in summery swagger; a place haunted by synth ghosts. Jay’s original and internally diverse sound is widely accepted, and is an excellent inspiration for even the most left footed of feet.

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Rhett Ohlsen   |   photo by Chirag Mahajan

  And as far as anyone can tell from Ohlsen’s work with the Vancity Drop podcast, along with promoting local crews and labels, he will definitely be wherever the bass drops.

 
Discorder: What kind of music do you play on The Bassment?

Rhett Ohlsen: I play bass music. For those unfamiliar with that term, it’s a fairly young label placed on the West Coast’s unique style and approach to electronic dance music. Bass music can also be a blanket term that can encompass EDM sub-genres like dubstep, glitch, drum and bass, UK funky, electro, juke, future garage, dub, or breakbeat. It’s music that’s fast in tempo and beats per minute, and explores sub bass frequencies not generally heard in other dance music.

D: What made you want to have a radio show?

RO: I’ve always been told I had a face for radio [laughs]. But seriously, I love how unique this music is and the energy it inspires in listeners. I especially love the community that’s forming around this music. By hosting a radio show, I’m given the opportunity to share the future of music and bring light to what’s happening in our city for others to find it and experience it themselves.

D: What has been your most memorable on-air moment?

RO: I had two buddies of mine visit and say a few words on-air. I figured they’d have a lot to contribute because of their experience, not only as frequently-booked DJs, but as supporters of the scene. After the conversation, I addressed the mic alone, and, as I’m talking, one of my buddies threw a ball of paper at me. I completely lost my train of thought and froze for almost a minute. There was a patch of dead air until I zoned back in and turned on some music. It was a little embarrassing.

D: Do you also collaborate with local DJs and bass music promoters?

RO: I’m involved with another music project called the Vancity Drop, which is a podcast that involves me and a DJ from the Suave Assassins [a crew supporting local and international dubstep and drum and bass]. Together, we contact emerging and unheard music producers and labels worldwide to gather forward-thinking music. At the end of each episode we have a DJ mix from a new artist. I’m also involved with the SHAHdjs [a drum and bass crew that organizes large-scale monthly events to showcase local talent and international artists] to spread word of their events, build support, and distribute tickets.

D: If you could only bring one album to a deserted island, which one album would it be?

RO: I would bring Bigger Fish Frying by Longwalkshortdock. LWSD has found a unique style that combines the analog sounds in techno and video games with the heavy bass drums, synths, and horns of bass music in a way that makes it impossible not to stay still. He has surpassed any boundaries of EDM and has taken music production past the software by incorporating numerous pieces of hardware to manipulate the sounds.

D: What is your favourite CiTR radio show, besides your own?

RO: I like [DJ Cyber’s] Synaptic Sandwich. Very unique style of show, and I love the tune selections.

D: What does the future hold for The Bassment?

RO: I eventually want to create a blog-style webpage or join forces with a current heavy-traffic bass music blog in the country to have a central spot for resources, must-hears, local events, and a place to show support, interesting news, and so forth. I also want to start having a guest come in for 20 minutes of live mixing, and possibly start hosting interviews with international talents who frequent our city. Our local talent specifically is exceeding all of my expectations with new tunes forthcoming on national and international labels.

The Bassment airs Fridays from 9:00pm – 10:30pm.

The Vancity Drop can be found here.

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  Nothing about Nkazi is groundbreaking, and the unfortunate part about having a rapper as the frontman is that the band can go under-appreciated on the recording. Still, the choice of live performers rather then endless sampling is novel at least, and is a good compliment to Panther’s creative and smart lyrics. The result is an EP that sets the stage for a lot of future success once they find their own groove.

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Chris Walter | photo by Daniel Thomas Williams

  A former drug addict and seventeen-year resident of East Vancouver, Walter’s embedded punk spirit maintains its discourse with anger and revolt through his self-created publishing company, Gofuckyerself Press. Over the past eleven years he has published over twenty titles, including more than a dozen fictional narratives such as Up and Down on the Downtown Eastside (2011), Punch the Boss (2009) and East Van (2004). He has also written and published a three-part autobiography, several collections of short stories, and Argh Fuck Kill (2010), the biography of Canadian punk rock legends Dayglo Abortions. A similar biography on SNFU is due to hit shelves this summer.

  More often than not, his fictional characters are working class or unemployed mavericks and heroines: ravaged junkies, prostitutes on the prowl, heartless drug peddlers, debaucherous rock ‘n’ rollers. His settings frequently portray the dark realities of Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside and the ravenous punk scene in Winnipeg, MB, where a youthful Walter first donned a leather jacket and sculpted a Mohawk. His stories of drug-addled desperation, stage diving gone wrong, and the agony involved with relating to the status quo, are heartfelt accounts not to be taken lightly. Yet, it is no wonder that he leans his plots against a ragged narrative style steeped in the comedic dark side.

  On a recent, crisp afternoon, Walter invited me to his modest, two bedroom East Van apartment for a one-on-one discussion. Despite the imposing, fully-tattooed figure that sat across from me at the kitchen table, I couldn’t help but feel at home because of his honesty, his bravery, and his passion for all things punk.

(Interview has been condensed)

What have you been up to recently?
  I have a few projects on at the moment. First, I’m wrapping up a book of short stories that’s going to the printer on Monday. It’s just a small collection of stories to keep some money coming in while I finish this SNFU biography that should come out in the late spring or early summer. I started it in August and usually it only takes me—well, I put out about two books a year—but if I do a music biography then it takes me a whole year to complete it.

Tell me about the process of putting a rock biography together. What do you include? What don’t you include?
  I collect phone numbers, make calls, and write chronologically, never knowing what I might uncover. Every band has at least one skeleton in the closet, and they must be handled carefully. You can’t leave it all out, but you don’t want to hurt the band too much. It’s always a judgement call.

You were there during SNFU’s rise to prominence during the ’80s and ’90s. You were living it, so describe the scene.
Beer, freedom, and loud groundbreaking music that soon gave way to hard drugs and general violence. A good time … and SNFU showed the rest of Canada that even a scummy punk band from Edmonton can rise up and tour the world.

Can you explain the connection you share with SNFU — either your connection to their music, or connections you’ve had with the varied band members, or both?
  I’ve known Ken Chinn [a.k.a. singer Chi Pig] and some of the other band members, including [drummer] Jon Card, for thirty-odd years. We share a mutual punk history and an unfortunate appetite for mind-altering substances.

Has your distribution morphed through Gofuckyerself Press, as though each successful publication means more independent book shops or more music shops become interested in carrying your next publication?
  It’s all one step forward, one step back. I get a new book store and then another one closes. I get a new music store and then another of them closes. It’s a constant battle. Online sales are up and down, though they’re generally improving. And now I’m even going into e-books, but that’s starting off slowly too.

Would you say the majority of your sales are online through your website (punkbooks.com) or through physical book stores and music shops?
  I’d say it’s about half and half. Well, actually, I have book stores all over Canada now, so maybe I am selling a few more through those retail shops.

It was 1991 when you first arrived in Vancouver, and you got off drugs in 2001. How have you seen the Downtown Eastside change over time?
  Well, it hasn’t really changed that much at all, except that it’s becoming more and more squeezed by gentrification. But the reality hasn’t changed for the residents that are living there—the addiction and the desperation are still the same. I’ve never lived right there, I’ve always lived in this building—been here for 17 years—but I’m within walking distance, so I’d be down there hanging out for days. The biggest change for me is that now, instead of walking down to get high, I go down there to volunteer at a shelter on Friday nights. Now I’m on the other side of the glass.

How easy was it for you to get help down there ten years ago?
  It’s about the same as it is now, I guess. The First United Church building is that kind of shelter-from-the-storm that you can go in to no matter how messed up you are. At one point I needed new teeth, another time I needed help because I was being cut off of welfare, and then they were trying to throw me out of this place here and I needed arbitration. As an addict, my life was always in constant drama and every time I found myself in the real shit I’d go down there and I’d get an advocate to take care of it for me.

photo: SNFU (courtesy: snfu.com)

What sort of hope do you have for the DTES these days?
  To be honest, we’re not going to see an end to drug prohibition, but if we could then that would be my hope. Realistically we need more housing, and if drug prohibition is going to continue then there’s always going to have to be a place for addicts in any city. As bad as the DTES is, at least there’s a lot resources there for them. If the city decides to spread them [the addicts] all over the city then they won’t have those resources available to them and it will be even worse if everyone gets kicked out and moved farther east… They actually advertise these new condo complexes in the DTES and I remember one that said, “get a loft in the real world” [chuckles]. I imagine the people coming down to have a look while stepping over piles of human shit. Their cars would get broken in to three times a week and I guess they would say, “Oh, this is the real world.”

It’s that real world that attracts myself and others to you, or Bukowski, or to George Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London. The rest of the world seems so contrived, so fake on so many different levels that the agony, the pain, and the loneliness that openly exists in a place like the DTES is a fading glimmer of what is real.
  Yeah, and another thing about the DTES is that everybody knows everybody. Everyone knows your name and your game. It’s like a tight small town. I still see that when I go to volunteer at that low-barrier shelter.

What’s your feeling about the police officers that are working the beat down there?
  The cops we see are generally a pretty decent bunch. There are cops I know that are assholes, just abusing their authority, but most of them are okay. Of course some of them don’t really have a brain —those are the assholes. But the ones with half a brain can see that this is an example of how drug prohibition doesn’t work. They know that if they actually took everyone into booking for all that shit then the system would be so jammed up. They realize the logistics of it, like busting people for pot — isn’t that insane!

Yeah, it really surprises me that a lot of people still don’t understand that.
  The general public doesn’t have a clue about what it’s like down there, about what addiction is actually like. The only time they ever get the smallest glimpse is if a friend or family member becomes addicted. And while they might not catch on at first, then things start going missing, and then comes the weird behaviour, and then the person either OD’s or goes to jail, or becomes homeless, and then the family realizes, “Holy fuck, so that’s addiction.”

How was your party scene and your drug abuse connected to music?
  Well, there are a lot of punk rock junkies and a lot of them come from a place where they want to be a rebel and break rules. Of course some of their idols were addicts that used all that stuff. I mean, if you use Sid Vicious as a role model then you’re going to wind up in trouble.

Have relationships with your friends changed because of how you’ve portrayed them in your narratives?
  I don’t really take one person and put them in a book. I think all my characters are an amalgamation — a bit of this person, a bit of that person. None of my friends or my ex-friends would be able to recognize themselves. I wouldn’t do that to them; it just wouldn’t be cool. And anyways, a lot of the people that I used to use drugs with have either cleaned up or are dead. Some of them are on methadone and just coasting along. Very few of them are still in pieces when I see them down at the shelter, but they really are in terrible shape. And that’s such a strong motivation for me to not get high because then I’d be on the other side of that window, with shoes that are falling apart in November, and looking and smelling like shit.

What about writing as therapy?
  Oh, for sure! It keeps me busy, it makes me happy, and it provides money too [laughs]. I did start writing just before I cleaned up and I even used my first laptop as collateral with the dealer. I’d say “keep this and when I get some money then I’ll come back and get it.”

Chris Walter’s publications can be found on shelves in independent music and book stores across Canada, or they can be ordered through his website, punkbooks.com

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illustration by Erik Olson

  After hearing some gushy speeches from CBC weather presenter Claire Martin and contributors to the show, I started to feel guilty for my poor attitude towards this television premiere. I was clearly being a bad Canadian with my pessimistic attitude and sarcastic wits. I am supposed to be much more polite than this. However, as soon as the show started, my plan to not criticize the fuck out of it flew right out the window (airplane pun!).

  The problem with this first episode was the terrible writing. All the names they picked for the characters were mondo Canadian and I could not take it seriously: Jim McAlister, Bobby Martel, Ronnie Dearman, and a slutty mcslut named Candi Lussier. I’m also pretty sure the terrible acting was a side effect of the horrible script. First of all, nothing exciting happens for at least half an hour. When you think about a world-class TV show, like, say, Breaking Bad, the show starts with a bang every single episode and ends with a way to get the audience hooked.

  This is how Arctic Air starts off: Martel (played by Adam Beach, an attractive man that looks as if Taylor Lautner and David Duchovny had a love child) comes to Yellowknife and we find out some uninteresting things about him, like how he was a ladies man in high school but never sealed the deal with his obvious upcoming love interest, Krista. Insert cheesy, clichéd dialogue [“And the prodigal son returns!”]. Insert horrible flirting with Candi [“You know which room to find me in.” *WINK*]. Insert climactic point where there’s a storm, but a baby needs to get delivered so they need to fly into dangerous conditions. Insert Terris’ thoughts of not caring if any of the characters die. Then, within minutes the conflict is easily resolved, the baby gets delivered safely in a cabin, and then everyone goes to a wedding for some characters I was too bored to pay attention to.

  There wasn’t even a cliffhanger at the end of the episode! The episode ends all neat and tidy. I’m pretty sure the writer-producer Ian Weir does not understand how TV works. What reason could we possibly have for wanting to keep watching this show after everything has been resolved? It felt like I was watching a movie created by the slackers that were in my grade 12 video production class.

  Then to make matters worse, we were forced to sit through the most tedious Q&A of all time. Beach is either the most relaxed person alive, or he was completely stoned. Every single one of his answers ended with “man” or “yeah, man.” Then again, I’d have to be pretty baked if I had anything to do with the production of Arctic Air.

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  Throughout Flamingo there is a continuous crackle and warp in the mix, giving these already old-school sounding songs more authenticity and intrigue, as if you’re listening to some old vinyl or a ratty cassette tape. Tunes like “Spotted Brown” and “Days Go By” have an easy listening, almost disco-funk feel while “Catch the Quick Fish” is like an old Dylan tune with a Cat Stevens-like essence.

  Boyishly charming without being naïve and unapologetically sincere, Sean Nicholas Savage has a sound and delivery like no other and if you’re a fan of d.i.y. folk and cheap-sounding Casio beats played with style, then this music ought to tickle your fancy.

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Photo: Michelle Ford | Hair/Makeup: Jenna Kuchera
Styling: Mila Franovic | Clothes: F as in Frank

  “Cam set up my first show in Vancouver, which was really nice of him,” Boucher recalls of the de facto show promoter, who also crafts glitchy atmospherics under the banner Babe Rainbow. On the line from her parents’ place in town, Boucher reflects on how far she’s come. “I think it was last Christmas—sometime back in the day before I was a real musician, or something.”

  Since then, the “realness” of Boucher’s career has undeniably rocketed skyward. For starters, she recently signed with the esteemed English imprint 4AD. Though she’ll stay on Montreal’s Arbutus Records within Canada, the international distribution deal places her in the past and present ranks of St. Vincent and the Cocteau Twins. Boucher’s also coming off a well-received tour with Lykke Li, and her upcoming record, Visions, is enjoying critical adoration from all corners of the indie music blogosphere. And with good reason. The album’s airtight production allows Boucher’s signature falsetto to soar over each curious arrangement of vintage hip-hop loops, dancing Casio synths, occasional Nintendo chimes, and ever-breathy harmonies. As her third solo release, Visions marks a graduation from bedroom composing into the world of avant-pop tastemaking. It’s realer than real, you might say.

  Since her return to Lotusland in November, Grimes has immersed herself in the sushi and musical scenery she left behind in 2006. Reached a few days before playing a collaborative DJ set with Reed at the Waldorf, Boucher reflected on the hippy vibes, potential alien correspondence and chemically-induced all-nighters she’s experienced on the West Coast.

  “We did a bunch of Dexedrine and drank a bunch of gin and made the sleaziest pop song of all time,” Boucher recalls of a very recent collaboration with Blood Diamonds’ Mike Tucker. The resulting track, “Phone Sex,” will be released later this year.

  “It’s like a K-pop version of ‘We Found Love’ by Rihanna,” Grimes says, adding that the all-night creative burst escalated into absurdity pretty quickly: “It’s kinda psychedelic and has really weird lyrics that maybe imply an incestuous relationship, or something.”

  It’s with this tongue-in-cheek deadpan that Boucher seems to chide all of her accomplishments and tastes. Whether we’re discussing a teenage obsession with Tool or her skyscraping vocal range, Boucher bookends her replies in self-deprecating humour.

  “I think people think I’m much more serious than I am,” she muses. “Most of the music I’ve ever made, I’ve been so baked when I made it. Like, really stoned.”

  Perhaps for similar self-preserving reasons, Boucher doesn’t get too personal in her song lyrics. While a spare few phrases can be deciphered, most Grimes songs are comprised of wordless flowing vocal hooks.

  “I just don’t listen to lyrics much myself,” she explains.

  Instead, Boucher finds herself emulating TLC and Mariah Carey-style R&B singing techniques (“Maybe that’s totally taboo or not cool, but the idea of combining R&B and goth is like everything I could ever want,” the vocalist gushes), but without the straightforward romantic plotlines. “I don’t want to evoke anything super specific,” she says. “If I’m writing about something sensitive to myself, I don’t want it to be cheesy, or something. I feel like being abstract is a little more tasteful and less embarrassing.”

Photo: Michelle Ford | Hair/Makeup: Jenna Kuchera
Styling: Mila Franovic | Clothes: F as in Frank

  Without earthly lyrics to pin down, Grimes tunes are repeatedly branded “ethereal” and “spacey”—the latter being a descriptor Boucher both enjoys and embraces. “I’m really into sci-fi; I’m really into space,” the musician exults. “I believe in aliens.”

  One might even guess her otherworldly style of art-pop is an attempt to connect with other planets. “Circumambient” begins with spacey digital transmission, and album closer “know the way” offers another round of buoyant, celestial echoes.

  “I would send this record to aliens,” she says. “But I don’t know if I was trying to speak to aliens on this record.”

  Conversely, Boucher says Vancouver has also brought out her grounded, nature-loving side. “It’s a little weird but kind of refreshing,” she says of the familiar landscape. “I think I’ve become more of a hippy since I’ve returned. I’m appreciating nature I think for the first time.”

  In her formative years, Boucher says she wasn’t too concerned with Vancouver’s natural assets. “I feel like I never looked at the mountains and felt like ‘those are really beautiful’ or anything. As a kid, I was just like ‘oh, I hate my parents’ or something.”

  If you missed Grimes’ DJ set at the Waldorf in January, fret not. Before she embarks on a solid year of touring, Grimes will headline the Fortune Sound Club later this month. But when asked if the West Coast will be her creative destination once the promotion cycle for Visions winds down, Boucher was quick to suggest otherwise.

  “I think I want to move to Berlin or Shanghai,” she says, describing the former as “the Montreal of Europe.” The German capital has swiftly become a mecca for creative Canadian ex-pats looking to escape the real estate market: “Super cheap equals a lot of art,” Boucher says, “because people can actually do shit and not work all the time.”

  Though 2012 looks to be booked solid, it’s only a matter of time before we see Grimes’ next vision. Or something.

Grimes kicks off a world tour at Fortune Sound Club on February 18.

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  The year before, we had celebrated my birthday stumbling around Point Grey, drinking Mike’s Hard Lemonades that were gift-wrapped in cheap, thin towels. The following year, we were out in Whalley at another friend’s place and I was a pretty sullen, judgmental straight-edge kid. Mind you, he wasn’t. The note reflected the distance between us: “Times change, people change; underwear doesn’t change.” All three are compelling points (though the last one is kind of gross), and kind of tie to an ironically consistent topic of the last year of Editor’s Notes. Life is always in such a state of flux, and while sometimes it puts me in a state of panic, I totally embrace it. I know I had a blast putting together Discorder, and I’ll hang on to memories of loading up on fries during production, meeting the cast of volunteers that come through the doors of CiTR, and actually watching a group young writers develop with each article they contribute. Some of you have made some incredible leaps from where you were last year! But, it’s time for me to make a jump of my own, and I wish you all the best.

  So, yeah, change is everywhere. Cover star Grimes (a.k.a. Claire Boucher) was raised in B.C., but she didn’t really start making her exciting brand of onomatopoeic new age electro until she moved out East. With the next year of her life dedicated to supporting her stellar new Visions LP, she’s temporarily relocated to the West Coast. Though judging by Sarah Berman’s feature, she might be looking for a new locale in the near future.

  Though having spent some time playing in Said the Whale and supporting Tegan & Sara, the guys and gal in Rococode are currently undergoing a spotlight shift of their own. The band’s debut LP Guns, Sex & Glory is proof enough that they’re ready to do their own thing.

  As for Sleuth, Tyranahorse and From Birch to Yew, 2012 should have each act discovering what life’s like after winning their respective prizes at our annual SHiNDiG competition.

  My comprehension of the Chinese Zodiac is pretty lacking, but from what I’ve been told, the year of the Dragon is known for shaking up people’s lives, and damned if it doesn’t feel that way. It’s an incredible feeling, though.

  On to some station news, February is Black History Month, and CiTR is celebrating in style. All throughout the month we’ll be running a number of on-air PSAs highlighting a number of local community members with compel- ling stories. There will also be some special blocks of programming, inlcuding documentaries and lectures, and films will be screened across town. You can check out our calendar for some date-specific info!

  In conclusion, it’s been a wild ride, Discorder. I hope you enjoyed the last year’s worth of issues as much as I did, and I can’t wait to see what the next editor has in store (frankly, I’ll be teaching them the ropes next issue, so I’ll be the first to find out!)

(In spirit forever, but officially for one last time) Discorderly yours,
Gregory Adams

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  The awkward start might otherwise cast a shadow on the rest of the album; however, what follows are two tracks that are in complete contrast to each other, yet represent the best elements of the album.

  “Planetarium” is a warm excursion into space travel, with its big square-waves and consistent groove lines making this track very accessible. “Rainy” relieves the crisp synth edges and replaces them with piano sounds subtly blurred together to create a gorgeous, downtrodden tone perfect for commiseration during the rainy season.

  The Passenger gives us randomness, danceable moments and ambient musings all in the first three pieces. Unfortunately, this triumvirate continues for the duration of the album and even surfaces in a single track. There are moments on “Shirt” that are reminiscent of Eno’s Music for Airports, which are combined with the classic sound of an Electro Harmonix pedal (or something similar) providing an ultra-fast delay effect. While this is usually a good recipe for ear candy, the song—like the album—loses in its hyperactivity or inability to settle.

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  Finally, the brazen “Straight Laced” comes in, claws bared, ready to finish you off, but takes mercy mid-mulling and thrusts you out of the darkness, sending you drifting back into consciousness.

  Was it a horrible dream or an exhilarating nightmare? Possessed, you turn up the volume, press play again and eagerly wait for Nun Un II to drag you back into the frantic void between no-wave and hardcore.

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