Patrick Wolf Storms Off NXNE Stage

06/18/09 1:53pm

by Matt Littlefair (CHARTattack)

I wasn't very familiar with Patrick Wolf or his music before Wednesday night.

I'd read a handful of press clippings and was vaguely aware of his slightly over the top glam-worship, which is a notable commitment given that glam is, by definition, over the top. So I was intrigued when a close friend and journalist recommended we go see Wolf at the Mod Club after a guest list snafu at The Courthouse skewed our plans to go see the Broken Social Scene secret show.

Combine that interest with the fact that I'd already left the house and it seemed a waste to pack it in so early, it was off to the west end. It turns out, Patrick Wolf = good call.

We arrived just in time for Wolf's set, and there were obviously problems with the monitors from the get-go. Wolf was gesturing at a tech to do something about the sound issues less than a minute into his first song. His sparkle covered face glowered as menacingly as someone can when enrobed in a high-fashion version of a bull-fighter's costume and, well, with a face covered in sparkles.

It was abundantly clear that while Wolf's music is pretty decent, the real allure of his schtick is the spectacle he so wholeheartedly embraces. The half-full Mod Club crowd was enthusiastic and Wolf was genial, if visibly agitated.

As the set progressed Wolf played song after song and jumped between the keyboard and violin while he intermittently shed pieces of his outfit until he was finally left standing in some sort of suspendered undergarment (I have no idea what it's called). That's when things went totally sideways in the most entertaining way possible.

After about 50-minutes, Wolf started in on a song many obviously recognized only to suddenly declare (melodically, mind you) mid-song that the monitors in Toronto were the worst they've been all tour.

With that, Wolf picked up his mic stand, smashed it on the stage, pitched a fit and stormed off. It was a sight to behold, made all the more humourous by Wolf's aforementioned attire.

As frustrating as the set obviously was for Wolf, it's hard to seem like more than a melodramatic, preening prima donna when you storm off the stage clad in old-timey underoos.

The band continued to play a few bars before it became abundantly clear that Wolf wasn't coming back out. There was a rousing 30 seconds of applause that quickly faded. Then it got oddly awkward as everyone sort of looked around, laughed nervously, shrugged their shoulders, unsure if it was part of the performance or if Wolf had genuinely just lost his shit. Turns out he just lost his shit.

My party and I left because we figured Wolf was done. But apparently, about 15 minutes later, after a public apology from a stage hand, Wolf re-emerged — wearing only a thong — and played at least five more songs, which caused a stage invasion by the leftover diehards who stuck around.

It was an entertaining if not slightly inauspicious start to my North By Northeast, but one that provided so much drama I don't know who or what is going to top it.