Brampton Indie Arts Festival Report #2: Ohbijou, Baby Eagle

I began my second day at the festival on the main stage, where Ohbijou got things started. Their brand of smooth chamber pop was perfectly suited to the venue, and Ohbijou pulled out all the stops. All seven members were present, with a couple of guest violinists thrown in for good measure. The small army on stage gave their music a full, rich sound, reinforcing the subtly sweet resonance of their songs. Singer Casey Mecija's honeyed voice was still buzzing in my head and warming my heart as I headed to the second stage after their set to watch Kids On TV.

Any lingering sweetness was blasted to smithereens by the Kids' brand of sex-politic-dance-punk (now there's as esoteric a term as you'll ever hear any music writer use). But their energetic antics had trouble getting off the ground, as they struggled with sound problems throughout their set. Nevertheless, the trio battled valiantly by dancing, shouting and stripping. The relatively sober atmosphere of the room never really devolved into the sweaty dance party extravaganza it ideally should have. Still, KOTV added a little bit of spice to an event otherwise dominated by mellow, guitar-toting singers and experimental improvisers.

The atmosphere again changed completely for Laura Barrett's performance, which had the intimacy of a recital in someone's living room. For those who don't know, Barrett is an unassuming young songwriter who gained sudden popularity in the Toronto music scene on the merits of her unique thumb piano-based compositions. Unassuming she may be, but forgettable she is not. Her candid warmth and smart, funny lyrics coaxed many a giggle from the audience members, who took in her performance in pin drop silence. With more shows like this, she may not be Toronto's secret for much longer.

Baby Eagle, a.k.a. Steve Lambke of the Constantines, had a tough act to follow, but showed he was no slouch either. The open-mouthed silence that permeated the room during Barrett's performance wasn't quite there when Lambke started his set, but people thankfully shut up and listened before he had finished half his songs. And with good reason — his hushed reflections on love, sung-spoke though plucked guitars, have an immediate and unavoidable poignancy to them.

My second day at the festival did offer some quirky moments. One of the more memorable ones was bassoonist extraordinaire Jeff Burke performing Metallica's seminal Master Of Puppets in the building's rotunda. A mere five minutes into his performance, a sizeable gathering had amassed to bear witness to a playful, yet nonetheless impressive, re-imagining of this complex album. Truthfully, you haven't heard "Welcome Home (Sanitarium)" until you've heard it played on a bassoon.

Encouraged by how much fun Jeff Burke was, I resolved to step outside my comfort zone and sample the collaborative improvisational stylings of bassist Trevor Dunn and harpist Shelley Burgon. How these musicians produced those otherworldly sounds out of their instruments is still beyond me, but it was pretty impressive to watch. Dunn and Burgon played off each other, creating uniquely textured mixtures. At times, Dunn would take a rubber mallet to the body his upright bass and use it as a percussive instrument while Bergon's harp created eerie, haunting sounds. The performance was as visceral and tense as any noise show, and while it may not have been as overtly entertaining as some of the other acts, it was engrossing from start to finish.