On Saturday of CityFolk at Landsdowne Park, I watched The Sheepdogs and Of Monsters and Men perform on the Telus Stage. These two bands are the perfect example of what I love and hate about live music.
As some dude I overheard on a bus so eloquently said, “I want to see a band and like them more than before.” The Sheepdogs very much succeeded in doing so. I had a great time watching them because of their energy, their solos, and their quality of music. Of Monsters and Men, however . . . Damn, I had such a bad time. Their music was garbage to listen to consecutively, and their sound was the same as if I was listening to a recording.
Let’s start with the negative so I can end this on a bright note, and not sound like such a scrooge. I knew a few Of Monsters and Men songs before seeing them on Saturday. I think their sound can be described as happy indie-folk anthems that are characterized by this formula: build-up, chorus with a million different random instruments, decrescendo, build-up to second chorus, chanting, random instruments, blaring trumpet, and done. Same idea as Mumford and Sons, but this time they’re Icelandic.
This formula makes for a catchy tune that I and millions of other people love. The problem for me comes when I’m forced to listen to the same god-forsaken song happen for nearly two hours. There was one solo by the poor, poor, trumpet girl whose only job was to blare down for the build-up to every song. Actually, there was a small guitar solo too, done by a really cool-looking person that was so cool and smug that I only resented them more.
The audience for Of Monsters Of Men made me even more resentful. Good god, there were so many selfies taken—selfies that I can see my own hateful face in the background of. I get wanting to commemorate the moment, but they were often every fifteen minutes. In addition, the girl behind me had the most shocking scream I’ve ever heard. Every time a song ended she sonic-blasted me in my earhole. It was unnecessary and painful.
These things are forgivable because I made the cardinal sin of being too close to the stage when I hate crowds. I will say they had really sweet smoke and lasers. And the lead woman is super cool. But the argument stands that this experience made me come face-to-face with the similarity of all of their songs, and they failed to amuse me. I like them less than when I started, so they fail to meet the standards of the man on the bus.
Now The Sheepdogs are a sweet band. I know a few songs, and have a vague memory of a bunch of melodies because they were added to my iTunes by a friend. I don’t actually know them very well, nor did I have any particular fondness for them. I recognized the name, so I decided to see them.
On the Saturday it rained like God was angry at us. This happened during The Sheepdogs’ set, but it didn’t stop them from putting on a damn good show. The singer kept telling us how awesome we are, and he told us funny stories, and he played singing games with us. It felt like he was hyped to be here jamming with us. When the keyboardist did a trombone solo, he let us know it was going to happen so that we could get hyped for this guy playing the trombone. People started chanting his name and assuring him as if this guy was a middle-schooler about to play his first solo in jazz band. It was all adorable and fun and personal.
The music was amazing and sounded all the more rich live. You could hear the singer givin’ er’. There was a trombone solo, drum solo, guitar solo, bass solo . . . Anyone that could have a solo had one. It was wild. They actually moved on the stage (unlike Wilco or Of Monsters and Men). I felt like they wanted to be there and they were into entertaining me.
I left liking The Sheepdogs even more, just as man on the bus said he wanted. I knew and liked The Sheepdogs and Of Monsters and Men equally going into this experience, but because of The Sheepdogs’ excitement and quality of music I’m open to seeing them again, thus throwing more cash at them. As for Of Monsters and Men, you couldn’t pay me to see them again. I hated every minute. I was straight up angry when they got called on for an encore because that meant I had to sit through their only song once more. Go see The Sheepdogs.
