Lululemon Lab

Carolyn Budgell on Meditation


ven before the whistling screams of the last fireworks of Halloween had faded into silence, businesses all over Vancouver were stealthily hanging strings of lights and preparing their Christmas displays. And now that we’re well into November, reminders of the approaching season – and all the gifting and celebrating that await – are everywhere. But, for all the merriness, joy and good will of the winter holiday season, this time of year can also be one of incredible stress. For some it’s work, for others it’s family. Maybe you’re the only vegan in a family full of cheese-loving carnivores. Maybe you’ve been invited to too many parties on the same weekend. Everyone’s stress is different, but we all go through it.

Which is why the Lab is hosting its Candlelight Yoga and Meditation workshop with Carolyn Budgell later this month. The workshop will create a space for everyone present to not only relax and destress in that hour, but to also acquire the tools to manage times of stress as they arise over the following weeks (or lifetime! Stress isn’t seasonal, am I right?)

The Lab recently sat down with Carolyn to talk about meditation, stress, and other cool stuff like Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, road rage and fruit cake.

Lab: How do you define meditation?

Carolyn: I define meditation as… this is a hard one. I don’t even feel like I’m qualified, or ever would be qualified, to define it. For me, it’s a process towards finding space in my mind, space in my thoughts, space in what I think is reality. To try and hover between thoughts and expectations.

It’s also a process towards being present. For example, one way I practice often is, when I’m walking down the street I notice, “oh, I’m walking through leaves right now,” or “there’s a person approaching me, I’m going to look at this person.” It’s just constantly being present.

L: What does that give you? If meditation is a process toward these things, what do these things bring to your life?

C: More and more I try to think less about what it will give to me, and think about what it will give to my communication with others, or my experiences with others. We do need to think about ourselves a lot, but I feel like I’ve been through a lot of moments of self-growth and thinking about “I need this. I need that. I need to let go of these things, I need to give myself more of these things.” And now I’m thinking more about how will my life with others be enhanced, rather than how just my life will be enhanced.

L: What do you hear from others about what they see as barriers between them and meditating?

C: The biggest one is “not enough time.” People think they don’t have enough time. And it is kind of ironic because one of the things we are trying to change are these thought patterns, and people immediately fall into the thought pattern of “I think I don’t have enough time,” when it is a choice. This is why I praise different events, like the 21-day meditation challenge, anything that people can sign onto that helps them move through those barriers. A lot of these 20-day or 40-day challenges require only 5 minutes a day. And I think, even one minute a day is good. Any amount of time you spend working towards something is better than nothing. I get that from my mom.

Another barrier is, we can be so hard on ourselves when we start something and we can’t complete it, or distractions come in. That’s why it’s a practice, and why I call it a process. We’re not going to be perfect, we just keep trying and trying, and keep coming back. So that’s another barrier – working towards perfection. That is definitely not going to aid your process, trying to be perfect, trying to get it “right.”

L: Tell us about the event you’ll be leading at the Lab later this month.

C: On November 25th, it’s a Monday night, we’ll be doing a meditation and yoga session by candlelight. Yoga and meditation go hand in hand. Some people try to jump into mediation and they find a lot of physical pain in their body. So, I like to tie them both together. We’ll be doing a bit of stretching, I’ll lead the group through a few short, guided meditations. I like to give people a taste of different styles of meditation – chanting is one form that we’ll try. A lot of yogis, and just people, love singing. It’s a really great way to get out of your thoughts, even if you’re bad at singing (laughs). We’ll do some chanting, we’ll do some focusing on the breath, maybe a meditation focusing on sounds [in the environment]. We’ll listen to some good music during the yoga part. Should be a good time!

L: This night is part of a holiday series, and has the intention to help people deal with the stress we all encounter in December due to the holidays etc. What kind of tips do you have for people who find themselves anxious or overwhelmed this season?

C: This is something that I’ll talk about more in the workshop, and I’ll post online on my blog about this as well. When it comes to holiday stress – whether it be family stress or work stress or whatever – there are tools that we can all use. Different tools work for different people. One thing, I’m sure we’ve all heard it a million times: stop and take a deep breath. It’s so much easier said than done.

Another thing you can do is phone a friend (laughs).

L: Is this Who Wants to be a Millionaire or meditating??

C: Lifeline, please! What’s my option right now? Flip out, or buy chocolate and calm down. Yeah, it’s kind of like, when you want to get back into a bad relationship and you call your friend to talk you out of it. Same thing with negative behaviour patterns: call your friends.

I do a lot of journaling, so I often stop and journal before I take something out on someone else. But that, again, has been a process of learning, figuring out that this tool really works for me.

There are also a lot of great online resources now, things that help you find yoga classes nearby, guided 5 minute meditations you can listen to. I like listening to classical music when I’m driving –

L: To help with your road rage?

C: (sighs) That’s something I haven’t quite mastered yet…

When I first became excited about the idea of transformation, realising the potential that I had to actually change how I acted in the world, I began every week with a different affirmation and I would repeat that affirmation in my head all week long. And I’ve talked with other students and meditators who find working with affirmations and mantras very helpful as well.

L: Right, so you could choose an affirmation that addresses your holiday anxiety.

C: Yeah, like “I love my family” or “I love fruit cake”



Gang Signs


n the middle of a lengthy email thread attempting to coordinate band, photographer, and writer schedules for an interview with Gang Signs, Discorder received an unusual request.

“How about we all eat something odd/gross and chase it with something even more potent/gross?” wrote Gang Signs’ Peter Ricq. The idea quickly evolved into a kind of game, where members of the band would consume a food and beverage combination given to them by lottery. “Make two combos yummy! One gross one!” Ricq said over email.

Come interview time, Gang Signs’ three members, Ricq (guitar/vocals), Matea Sarenac (sampler/vocals), and Adam Fink (drums), are crowded together in their tiny jam space on East 2nd, confronted by three mysterious packages. Selecting first, Ricq is rewarded with two slices of leftover mushroom pizza and a canned version of Jack Daniels and ginger ale. “Hey, all right,” he says, pleasantly surprised.

“I want the pizza!” says Sarenac, reaching out next to pick next. “Oh, wait, I want this, whatever this is. What is this? A piece of cake?”

Ricq eyes Sarenac’s treat, “I kind of want to all share now.”

“Can we?” Sarenac asks, taking up the beverage portion of her combo, a can of fruit juice and tequila. “I like this game.”

Observing the band go through this strange food surprise exercise feels like sitting with a group of teenagers in their parents’ basement, trying to stave off boredom by creating a game out of whatever is at hand. Each person is willing and good humored, but at the same time somewhat retiring and seemingly unconcerned with the outcome. There is an atmosphere in the interview that you can hear in Gang Signs’ music as well, a kind of lo-fi electro that has been dubbed by listeners as “slacker dance.”

“It’s like, you want to dance, but you don’t have to,” says Ricq. “It’s perfect. It’s how I feel all the time.”

From across the small room, Fink reaches forward for the final package. “I’m going to have to eat something gross now,” he sighs, inciting laughter from his band mates. The others look on as Fink draws a flat plastic package from the bag.

“What is that? Hair?” asks Ricq.

“’Black Moss’” reads Fink from the package, “I don’t even know what black moss is.” With little else but the name to go on—the back of the package reads simply, “ingredients: black moss”—and the fact that it was found in the dried foods section of T & T Supermarket, Fink opens the package and removes a clump of wiry black fibres. “You want to see me eat this? All right.”

“It looks like pubic hair,” says Ricq.

“Oh my god,” comments Sarenac, “I would not eat that shit.”

“Oh no,” says Ricq as Fink grabs a hold of his beverage. “What is that?”

“Mmmmmmmmmm,” Fink says sarcastically, reading his drink label. “Banana flavored creamy vodka beverage.”

Everyone in the band shares in the spoils of the game. Sarenac eats most of Ricq’s pizza. Everyone tries the moss, as Fink says, “It honestly doesn’t taste like anything. You want some on your pizza?”

Sarenac refuses and Ricq say, “It’s like eating fucking pubic hair. You can’t even chew it.” Their easy and familiar way with each other evokes the air of lifelong friendship, an impression belied by their very disparate places of origin. Sarenac was born in Croatia, her family immigrating to Canada via Toronto in the mid ‘90s, eventually moving west to Vancouver where she’s lived most of her life. Ricq hails from Montreal, a fact given away by his lightly inflected English. And Fink, raised in Whitehorse, bee-lined for Vancouver after graduating high school in order to play music.

It’s obvious from listening to the band talk that their love of music binds them together. Fink, a self-described music freak, has played in bands since a young age and keeps a handful of projects in rotation, just like his bandmates. Ricq, possibly best known as half of the dance act HUMANS, has added Gang Signs and another side project, Ladyfrnd, to his list of his extra-curricular activities. Sarenac keeps busy as associate and DJ, Wobangs. When asked about previous band experiences, Sarenac recounts her days as a 15 year-old member of local pop sensationMystique.

“We had a single called ‘Mystique Knows How to Party’ and there’s a music video too.” She teased us, revealing that the only way to see the video was on VHS.

Discussing the origins of the Gang Signs line up, Ricq recalls seeing Sarenac sing Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” at karaoke one night. “When she sang it was like [makes a rapturous face]… Wooooah, I gotta start a band with that girl!”

“I always had the idea of starting a band with a girl. I think it’s pretty neat — that voice? Having that juxtaposition of male and female, I find it is very… inviting. And Adam is always just down to play drums.”

“Yeah,” agrees Fink, “we’ve known each other for a while, it’s just one of those things.”

That “thing” is now manifest in an eight-song self-titled EP, released this August. The band’s take on how the EP came together seems nothing short of synergistic. Songwriting and recording at home in his spare time earlier this year, Ricq got the bulk of the material ready for the rest of the band to record with—21 songs in total. Once Sarenac’s vocals were recorded, all that was left was the drum tracks, which Fink pounded out in a single session at Watershed Studios.

“And it wasn’t because we were short on cash or had any limitations,” Fink is careful to clarify. “Everything just seemed like it worked. It was exactly how we wanted it to sound.”

Following their EP release party at the Cobalt on August 31, the band is slated to open for Nite Jewel on September 10, at the Waldorf. Later in the month they will be a part of a Winnie Cooper-sponsored showcase at the Biltmore on September 21 during Olio Festival. Beyond that, no grand plans are being schemed, besides spreading their spooky, synthy pop through the airwaves and across the globe. “We’re doing this EP so people outside of Vancouver get to know us,” explains Ricq.

Unsure of what the future holds, the band cracks open some fortune cookies to wash away the taste of the black moss and maybe catch a glimpse of what’s to come. But then we added “in bed” to the end of each fortune.

Ricq: You will soon receive compliments on your style [in bed]

Fink: An appeal for some assistance may catch you off guard[in bed]

Sarenac: A new approach will bring you greater career success [in bed]

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Discorder Magazine



ate on a Thursday evening, hunkered down in a basement jam space crammed end-to-end with sparkly drum kits and vintage synthesizers and covered floor to ceiling in cheap but lush-looking Persian carpeting, Brasstronaut embody the calm in the eye of the storm. The big storm is the impending May 15 release of their second full-length album, Mean Sun, which heralds a cross-Canada tour and revving up their promotional media machine.

But there is also a storm within a storm, a whirlwind of online debate and acrimony sparked by a contentious op-ed piece printed in the Georgia Straight that week. The article attacked bands who pursue crowdsourced funding for albums and tours through sites like Kickstarter and Indiegogo, and author Michael Mann, uses Brasstronaut as an offensive example of what he refers to as “pan-handling online.” The band is not shying away from the discussion.

Earlier in the day before meeting, Tariq Hussain (lap steel, guitar) met with Mann in the CBC studios for a live discussion on the radio show On the Coast. Rather than fueling the fires of recrimination, Hussain left the show feeling positive. “You touch a nerve when you talk about arts funding,” he says. “This particular article [in the Georgia Straight] is a little bit acerbic, but if you look beyond that there are probably a lot of people who have the same questions, so it’s good to have a discussion about it.”

The “it” in general is the growing practice of bands raising money by asking for direct contributions from their fans, which has become increasingly common since the launch of websites like Kickstarter. Specifically, the “it” that got them entangled in the debate is the Indiegogo campaign that the band set up early in April. Having been turned down for a FACTOR recording grant twice, and without the backing of a record label to pay for Mean Sun, Brasstronaut went ahead and recorded it anyway.

The album has been recorded, mixed and mastered, and is ready to see the light of day, so the band has set out to raise $15,000 by May 3 to fund the production and promotion of Mean Sun, as well as the aforementioned Canadian tour. Admitting to some initial reservations about asking the public for money—“we did it kind of as a last resort,” comments Edo Van Breeman (keyboards, vocals)—the band, however, is feeling good despite the negative press. “Since we started, it’s been amazing,” reflects John Walsh (double bass, electric bass, guitar). “We reached almost half our goal in the first ten days. People really like it. They can be part of the process, and they are actually helping out a band that they like.”

“The campaign’s been such a positive experience in a lot of ways,” agrees Samuel Davidson (EWI, clarinet). “It’s an innovative way of fundraising. It’s not total charity. We’re offering limited edition, autographed copies of albums. You know, we’re making it special. People are really encouraging and really happy to help out, and it seems like we’re building an identity with our fans more through it.”

Fans and finances aside, writing and recording their sophomore album precipitated some new experiences for the band internally as well. The process they underwent making 2010’s Mt Chimaera, their first full-length album, was protracted and fragmented; new band members—Hussain and Davidson, whom the rest of the band met during their residency at the Banff Centre in 2009—joined partway through the initial recordings, which were later torn apart and reworked back in Vancouver over several months. Mean Sun, on the other hand, was birthed rather seamlessly. “It was written within a month, basically,” recounts Van Breeman, “and then we went into the studio weeks later.”

“In a way, it feels like our first record,” Walsh says. Everyone present nods in agreement.

“I think this is the first truly collective work the band has put out,” adds Brennan Saul (percussion). “It’s our first full-blown collective sound.”

That sound is a spacious, soft, whooshing kind of pop music, a sound that is inviting and intimate, a little bit tripped out, and saturated with melancholy. The title track on Mean Sun, exemplary if not a little more down-tempo than most songs on the album, is the sound of a break-up in outer space, of Le Petite Prince wandering his barren asteroid after his rose has lied to him. The rest of the album takes that sound and applies it to varying degrees, dialing up the pulse of optimism here, like on opener “Bounce,” and blanketing you with stars there; cue the heavily filtered horns and distorted synths on “The Grove.” Overall, the greater cohesion of the band shines through on this effort and fosters its rather polished sound.

In the past, Brasstronaut has been somewhat at odds with the labels the press has given it. At least a handful of articles from the last couple of years quote Van Breeman’s protest that “we’re not a jazz band,” a term easily reached for perhaps due to their employment of Davidson’s clarinet and Bryan Davies (not present at the interview) trumpet. When asked how they are resolving the gap between the music they think they’re making and the way it is communicated by journalists and critics, the band is almost blasé.

“It’s resolving itself by us not caring anymore,” asserts Davidson. “People call it whatever they call it, and we just make whatever music we make.”

Noting some groups that spring to mind, Van Breeman discusses the ever more common reality of bands having a myriad of contrasting influences, resulting in genre-blending sounds that defy categorization. “Like Grimes,” he says. “What’s Grimes?” (According to Pitchfork she’s “airy post-Internet cyber-pop.” Obviously.)

Unconcerned with the “this band meets this band meets this band” comparisons on the horizon, Brasstronaut are in rolled-up sleeves work-mode, preparing for a busy year of touring and figuring out how to get the attention of as many fans and potential fans as possible. The band recently launched a new website with a blog designed to keep listeners informed of their activities and whereabouts, and they are making forays into the usual social media suspects.

“We’ve been, uh, ‘twitting’,” admits Van Breeman. “[We realized] that if people really love the music, how do you reach them?” he says of their commitment to connecting to and communicating with their audience. “How do you keep reaching them?”

To a man, the band seems preoccupied with finding a way forward, a way to keep going despite the hurdles facing independent bands these days, such as a lack of label support, dwindling public funds, and all that free mp3 downloading people do.

“We have fun playing. Thank God,” says Davidson.

Besides $15,000, what more could you ask for?

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Discorder Magazine

The Ruffled Feathers


aving converged on Vancouver from points east, west and south and boasting 15 cities of residence between the five of them, the Ruffled Feathers are a local band with an international pedigree and a huge diversity of influences. Their music is often described through references to Beirut, Regina Spektor, and early Arcade Fire; basically, bands that speak to the group’s enthusiastic employment of mandolins, ukuleles, trumpets and accordions, in addition to the usual suspects of guitar, keys, drums and bass.

But, as with most descriptions by way of comparison, these references all fall short of encapsulating the Ruffled Feathers sound, which is a serious, yet celebratory, investigation of the human experience.

The band has very philosophical tendencies, yet (as a perusal of their blog will reveal) they are also kind of silly and funny as hell. Catching up with the band before a show at The Pit Pub, these complementary contradictions appear to be the result of that perfect kind of alchemy that occurs between switched-on, curious and thoughtful people working together on what they love.

Shortly before they are due to appear onstage, the four male members of the Ruffled Feathers flock together outside The Gallery in UBC’s Student Union Building. Minutes later we’re joined by Gina Loes (vocals, guitar, ukulele), the lone female Feather, fresh from a ukulele lesson, and we abandon The Gallery where an open mic situation is threatening to launch full-blast.

Once seated someplace quiet with the genial and eager bunch, we delve directly into the matter of their unusual and somewhat protracted album release process. Their first full-length album, Oracles, is due for independent release on April 3. But, since early January the band has pre-released two tracks off the album as a free download every couple of weeks, meaning that eager fans who return regularly to the band’s website could potentially get the whole album for free prior to release. They’ve even included a countdown clock at that indicates the days, hours, minutes and seconds until the next pair of songs will be posted to be given away for free.

“It makes the excitement of releasing an album last longer,” says Gina. “We put a lot of work into it, and if we did it just one day, one party, here you go, that would be it. [Then] what would we do all spring?”

Besides wanting to prolong the fun of releasing their first full-length album, the Ruffled Feathers also feel an enormous debt of gratitude to their fans and supporters. Last year, after successfully recording the album on their own, they opened a Kickstarter account to raise the funds to pay for mixingOracles. Their goal of $3500 was exceeded by enthusiastic support from 75 backers, and the band is now joyfully giving thanks by sharing their work.

“We really wanted to be able to spread our music out there,” says Andrew Lee (trumpet, vocals), “but it’s kind of uncomfortable giving everything away for free all at once. Also, we had a lot of success with Kickstarter to fund the album, so it’s kind of our way of giving back.”

And the giving doesn’t end with just the download. The pre-release tracks that the Ruffled Feathers post on their site for free are accompanied by a constellation of complementary artwork, essays, diagrams, videos, comics and more. The additional works, Charley Wu (keys, mandolin, guitar, vocals) points out, are intended to give listeners a greater insight into the music.

“We’re treating each song with its own personality and its own back story,” he explains. “It’s nice to fill in all those details, to draw these connections. I’m trying to share all my inspirations with people who listen to our music.”

This process is also a way for the band to showcase each song in a way that eliminates the hierarchy of the hit single. “I think it’s kind of nice to, in a way, force people to listen to every song,” Sam MacKinnon (drums) says, reflecting on the common experience of getting to know a new album where a standout track or two will attract the most attention from the listener. For a group who’s writing, arranging and recording process is so entirely collaborative, it is hard for them to hold up any one song above the others; in their eyes each one is as considered and complete as the next.

That having been said, there is one song from Oracles that has received the royal treatment in terms of auxiliary creative works. “Blueprints for our Failed Revolution” is an orchestral-pop banger, replete with battle-march drums, triumphant trumpet refrains and a chorus sung tout les ensemble that will get just about any body moving. The band filmed an elaborate music video for the song that is a romantic take off on the American Civil War and Victorian era. “I probably spent four solid months on [the making of the video] and it took a year off my life. That’s why I’m going to Siberia!” quips Wu, who is departing the day after the show for a trip from Shanghai to Moscow via Ulaan Baatar on the Trans-Siberian Railway. “But I would do it all again,” he adds. Loes also points out that their newest video for the song “Mockingbird” took just one day to film. “That’s efficiency!”

Operating without the support of a label or any kind of management, efficiency is a key element for the band. Each member is continually busy responding to emails, making booking inquiries, planning shows, and making merchandise (from their Kickstarter page: “What other band has handmade mugs and porcelain buttons at their merch table?”). The Ruffled Feathers approach bandhood with an earnest and democratic energy, and with all cylinders firing. They also bring a kind of wisdom and discipline to the business side of things, uncommon in a band so young.

“It’s no longer drugs, sex, rock ‘n’ roll,” Charley asserts, “It’s sweat, tears and hard work.”

“We have done everything ourselves completely,” Matty Jeronimo (bass, guitar) adds.

“It’s quite the learning curve,” Loes says, “but all the information is there, it’s all on the Internet. You just have to look.”

The band is currently focusing their can-do energy on organizing a 12 city tour of the west coast for this coming June. How are they going to do it? Spreadsheets.

“Andrew is an engineer, and I’m a chemist, so we’re all about spreadsheets and documentation and stuff,” Jeronimo explains.

“And flow charts,” adds Lee. Jeronimo agrees, “we’ve got high quality flow chart skills.”

With flow charts, blueprints and instruments at the ready, the Ruffled Feathers seem poised on the threshold of some big and exciting developments. As the band tumbles out of the SUB and into the night to pose for a photographer, I find myself hoping that Vancouver remains home to this peripatetic bunch for a while yet, if only so we can witness first-hand how it all shakes out.

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Discorder Magazine

Glass Kites EP Release Show Review


s well as being in a sort of cultural no-mans land, Five Sixty on Seymour Street (the old A&B Sound, to Vancouverites over 25) is itself a sort of void. Cavernous, multi-leveled, and covered all over with small square tiles and whitewashed brick in a Euro toilet chic, the venue feels like a place you’re more likely to get lost in than discover anything new at.

There to check out the Glass Kites album release show, I was ready to take that feeling to the bank, but instead I ended up pleasantly surprised by the parade of talented young bands that carried on with the night in front of a sparse, but loving crowd. In a huge venue like Five Sixty you really have to feel for the opening act.

Playing to a couple dozen fans and friends in a space that could easily hold two hundred, Bed of Stars did their best to banish the vacuum of empty space. Singer Evan Konrad, backed up by the band’s beautiful, melodic pop, gave an impressive vocal performance reminiscent of Royston Langdon from 90s glam pop band Space Hog. “We’re not disappointing you, are we?” Konrad asked the early evening crowd. “No? That’s good,” he replied to an unclear response from the crowd. “At least, I hope that was a no.” Bed of Stars closed their set with “Nothing left to Lose,” a bouncy crowd pleaser that has been seeing regular airtime on the Peak radio station since the release of their EP I Fell in Love in the City last year in August.

Next, with little ado, following a few choice old school drum and bass and deep house tracks DJed by Wobangs, Facts took the stage. The band seemed determined to give the crowd a primer on their most significant musical influences–a bit of Talking Heads here, some Spoon and the Killers there, at times a Zooropa-era U2 flavour–and so Facts’ set read like a Wikipedia entry on Popular Rock & Roll music of the last 40 years. The homage mélange was surprisingly pleasing, delivered as it was by clearly accomplished and enthusiastic players, making the show more entertaining and less doggedly derivative than it could have been.

After two full sets the crowd size noticeably increased. But, despite the surge in numbers, the energy remained on the mellow side for the third band on the bill, Supercassette. Seemingly immune to the band’s jokes and their exuberant brand of party-fueling synth-rock, folks proceeded to stand at a polite distance from one another and watch Supercassette sweat it out.

“You don’t have to be afraid to dance,” quipped the lead singer, but the crowd didn’t bite. Supercassette played a solid, high-energy set, but ended with a song we were told we may “recognize from TSN.” Titled “Good Company,” the song was a departure from the rest of their playlist and, owing to its more generic radio rock sound, kind of a down note to end on.

Glass Kites, whose first full-length album came out online January 1, served up an ambitious, all-encompassing look-see at the recently pressed material. Playing the album front to back, engulfed in a swirling display of lights–sometimes like snowflakes, sometimes like spinning galaxies, sometimes like lush grassy green hills disintegrating into nothingness–Glass Kites’ set was one part Laser Pink Floyd, one part Sigur Rós junior, and one part make-out room at a 70s high school party.

The crowd at this point had reached peak density, huddling close to the stage and swaying to the band’s layered, heavy, dreamy progressive rock. Between singer Leon Feldman’s acrobatic, Thom Yorke-ish vocals and guitarist Curt Henderson’s knife-sharp Jonny Greenwood profile, the Radiohead parallels are hard not to make. To their credit, the band has meticulously composed their way into territory all their own.

After playing the album’s closing track, “Slowly (Home)”, Glass Kites shut things down with a tonne-of-bricks-heavy medley of two non-album songs, “Apocalypse” and “Redemption,” a howling and relentless jam that broke the dial off at eleven. Satisfying.

DJ Wobangs played the crowd out with an appropriately far-out mix of dance hits, from CeCe Peniston to CSS, but perhaps not surprisingly, still no one was dancing.

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