Musicians Aren't Just a Bunch of Losers, Ezra

As mentioned in a blog post back in March, I write for an online music magazine called Sticky. One of the perks of being a contributor is the opportunity to not only meet an assemblage of talented musicians but to see them perform live. And the majority of these talented musicians are neighbours of mine. They live, eat, work and play in the same city as I do – the city of Toronto. Most citizens (if not all) can agree that this is one of the greatest cities in the world. When reading The Atlantic earlier this month, I stumbled upon an article dubbing Toronto as the second best city in the world for business, life and innovation. Next to New York, Toronto is apparently the land of opportunity.

For musicians, the ample land of opportunity is becoming more like a smidge of hope in a gutter. Now that our current Prime Minister Stephen Harper got a majority government earlier this month, musicians, artists and thespians alike are stuck holding their breath. The Conservative government has systematically cut public arts funding in the past. According to this article, culture cuts in Canada totaled $45 million in 2008. I fear this is just the beginning.

The nationwide launch of Sun News Network brings us the return of Ezra Levant. Just when we thought Calgary Sun got rid of him, he returns to my side of the country. Now, this is one conservative media figure who will be the first in line to pull the plug on arts funding. A clear indication of this is found in his most recent editorial in the Toronto Sun. Levant wants to cut funding for “so-called musicians”.

Levant, with a slew of libel lawsuits under his belt, goes on to call B.C. punk band Living With Lions “a bunch of losers” for getting a $13,000+ grant from FACTOR. A day later, an article in the Vancouver Sun reported the band has given back the money and the album will be pulled from all shelves. The band will rerelease the album on their own terms “without the logos and without the acknowledgment of government funding in its liner notes.”

I was out with my boyfriend yesterday on a leisurely coffee date to celebrate his birthday. I should mention my boyfriend, Matthew Angus is a musician. He started his band Fast Romantics in 2007 in Calgary, Alberta (birthplace of Ezra Levant and a thousand other neo-conservatives). Just last year the five-piece shuffled from the Rockies to the bright lights of Toronto for the chance to excel in the industry.

Like the rest of the musicians in Toronto, Matthew Angus and the rest of the Fast Romantics are hard workers. They work long hours to save enough money to tour and hire the most skilled producers for their records. Any working band in Toronto can express the hardships of being a musician: the lack of financial stability, the time spent in studios or on the road away from loved one, the abysmal results sometimes caused by publicists and promoters, the stress of doing interviews or playing in a dingy bar with one sole patron. These things and more are what musicians put up with and sacrifice in order to peruse their dreams.

So, because Matthew is so passionate about music and the financial opportunities bands currently have to produce albums and go on tour, he wrote an open letter to Ezra Levant on the importance of music and arts funding for Canadians. I have been sharing it all over the internet for two days now not because he’s my paramour and this is what women do for their men. I share this with you on A Table For One because I stand by every word written in this letter. As I began transcribing an interview I held with Ryan of Mother Mother, I thought “this band probably got a lot of financial help from the government when they started out”. I quickly looked at a lot of albums I’ve recently purchased, like Austra’s Feel it Break, and almost all of them acknowledged government funding in their liner notes. So, take away these grants and these albums would not exist (or they'd be much, much harder to make). As a human being, music speaks to me on so many levels. As a music enthusiast, I appreciate how far grants can go for my favourite local bands. As a music journalist, if bands don’t get proper funding to make records and go on tour, I’d have nothing to report on.

“A man named Bob just put out an album called My First Album! He used one of those recordable disc from the Dollar Store that fits nicely between two folded pieces of paper. It’s great if you enjoy listening to nothing but spoons clanking for 40 minutes straight.”

This isn’t what I want to write a year from now, no.

I want to continue working with amazing musicians and spreading their music out there for everybody to indulge in. Every artist deserves the chance to record an album, showcase in a gallery, perform in a full theatre or sign up for classes to gain knowledge and experience, what have you.

Please read Matthew Angus’ response on arts funding and please retweet or reblog if you truly believe in what he says. The letter can be found here. Not only do I believe in music but I believe in the power of the internet (when used properly) and what it can do to spark a change – for better or worse.

Montreal: Refuge For Newly Converted Carnivores

Despite it only being May, and 2011 is still considered a baby, a lot has taken place thus far. It marks the year I graduated from the print & broadcast journalism program at Humber College, turned 23 and began eating animals again after a 10-year stint with tofu. What can I say? We had a beautiful relationship that lasted as long as it could. I’ll always treasure tofu in my heart and even keep a photograph tucked away in my drawer but I can no longer deny my love for cold cuts.

As a newfound carnivore, I am like a child learning how to swim. Swim in a sea of delicious, scrumptious salmon, that is. Mmm, smoked salmon with cranberry-mustard sauce. Ah, I must stay on track here.

This past weekend I had the privilege and the honour of being whisked away to Montreal to celebrate these milestones; graduating college, getting my green card to become a permanent member of Carnivoreville and oh, being born! Montreal, in my humble and hungry opinion, is the perfect city to explore exotic, rich foods. It’s as much of a European meat eater’s delight as it is a vegan’s. Our entire time in Montreal was spent indulging in life’s sweetest- and at times most sour - pleasures. We didn’t shop or roam in tourist-like fashion. We simply ate. I’ve managed to keep track of all the restaurants we explored and hopefully it will inspire you to one day do the same.


Chez Chose

(photo courtesy RestoMontreal.ca)

On the eve of my 23rd birthday, after having made no reservations at all, my beloved and I walked along Saint Denis St. for an hour trying to find a good restaurant that would seat us two. Our first choice was Au Pied De Cochon, but during our entire stay we could not get a reservation. I assume that’s how renowned that place truly is. We finally settled inside Chez Chose, located at 4621 St. Denis.

The menu looked promising. If my memory serves me well, we began with an appetizer consisting of sautéed shrimp with poached egg. Our main dishes were of duck and rabbit stew. For dessert, fresh cranberries atop pound cake with whipped goat cheese. And you can’t eat a decadent meal like that without ending it with an espresso.

The thing that attracted me the most about Chez Chose was the marvelous host. Our waiter, Richard, was extremely friendly and patient with our ill French. There’s not too many fine dining restaurants that have a warm, inviting, unpretentious aroma to them. Stumbling into Chez Chose was a fluke but it turned out to be one of my favourite experiences.


Divan Orange

(photo courtesy Ron Harrity)

We were under the impression that Divan Orange was the bar for young and hip, urbanites. After dinner, we took the ridiculously clean and fast subway to this bar located at 4234 St. Laurent Blvd. Think of it as Montreal’s answer to The Horseshoe Tavern or Supermarket. The bar was packed with hipsters in their mid-twenties, sipping beer and cranberry vodkas, waiting to check out music from the latest up-and-coming local band.

We ordered our usual drink (rye & ginger) and halfway through we just couldn’t take the lack of air conditioning and ventilation anymore. A real shame if you ask me, seeing as we would stayed to enjoy some francophone music had we not enjoyed wanting to breathe fresh air more.


Le Grand-Mère Poule


The next morning, we found ourselves back at Le Plateau, hunting for the best breakfast joint. Since the highly popular L’Avenue had 30 people waiting to be seated, we decided to cross the street and seat ourselves inside Le Grand-Mère Poule, on 1361 Mont-Royal Ave.

The décor of this establishment is reminiscent of a grandmother’s clunky cottage. There are egg baskets streamed from the ceiling and a plethora of chicken statues and other related knick-knacks displayed throughout. Since nothing sings “good morning!” better than a benedict, I ordered the roasted tomato and ham benedict with cream of pesto. This substitute from hollandaise sauce was a pleasant surprise, almost making me crave a second helping. At Le Grand-Mère Poule, all benedicts came with a variety of fruit, apple sauce and the quintessential breakfast item: hashbrowns.


Piq-A-Deli

(photo courtesy of Ifood.tv)

I got a recommendation from a close friend of mine to head on over to Macaroni Bar for some gnocci poutine (I had no idea such a thing existed before!). Unfortunately, the restaurant wasn’t open yet for the night and so we walked down St. Laurent until we found a deli with the shortest line. I know Shzwartz’s is the best deli in all of Quebec but I’d be damned if I can ever walk by without seeing a line-up the length of a football field.

Having no patience and a killer apatite, one or two blocks away lay the newly opened Piq-A-Deli on 3710 St. Laurent. The owner of the deli was sitting outside handing out smoothie samples to streeters. All for helping out small businesses, we went in and ordered smoked meat Panini’s and fresh raspberry smoothies. This is when I fell in love with smoked meat. It was so scrumptious and savoury, I can only imagine what the smoked meat at Schwartz’s must taste like.


Le Continental


Having learned our lesson to make reservations ahead of time, we called first thing in the morning to secure our spot at this busy fine dining restaurant, located on 4007 Saint Denis St. I can’t say I frequent such fancy bistros, so my time at Le Continental was savoured til the very last drop of Cabernet Sauvignon.

My dinner mate and I warmed up to a plate of salmon tartare under mashed avocado (almost guacamole) with a hint of lemon oil. This appetizer went really well with the fresh bread we were given. If I were back at home, I would have paired with tortilla chips. Being the steak virgin that I am, I managed to get a few bites from my generous date. The filet mignon I ordered for myself was better, but when in Montreal, never pass on the opportunity to munch on steak & frites. For dessert came the gooiest volcano chocolate cake ever, sans birthday candles. Two other people dining at the bistro were celebrating birthdays with friends, and I’m no thunder stealin’ woman.


Crêpe 2 Go


A lust for fine crêpes has been instilled in me since childhood. I have fond memories of waking up to my mother’s nutella crêpes in rural Romania. It’s a challenge for any restaurant to make crepes better than my mother’s. Crêpe 2 Go is a small, crammed establishment found on 2150 Bleury St. The colourful joint served breakfast crêpes (my boyfriend ordered ham and egg crepes with spinach) and dessert crêpes (I ordered the blueberry and banana crepes). These thin and unsweetened crêpes paled in comparison to my mother’s thick, savoury crêpes. Given the chance, I’d definitely go and find a different crêperie. I do like my tables with a little more leg room.


Café Art Java


After munching on crepes and cruising through the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, some R&R (reading and relaxing) was well needed at 836 Mont-Royal Ave. Café Art Java is your typical study-break café serving baked goods and warm, delicious drinks that coffee lovers crave. The server, who belittled me when I tried to place my order for a latte and a croissant in French, reminded me that the language needs to be taken seriously when in Quebec. I have much to improve on until my next visit. What needs no work is CAJ’s French onion soup, equipped with two pieces of fresh toasted bread. It’s the definition of mouth-watering.

Stuck On Music

A little over a year ago my friend Pete Nema was putting together a music website and asked me to be a contributor. Being the huge music enthusiast that I am, and a whore for bylines, I immediately jumped on board. Sticky Magazine was launched with the help of Pete and a small group of writers and photographers. Just recently we quietly celebrate our one year anniversary. I look back at this milestone with complete euphoria. This past year has been life changing and really, I can only thank Pete for that.

Writing for Sticky has opened a lot of doors for me. I’ve attended a slew of shows and covered some rad events like North by Northeast and the Verge Music Awards. I’ve interviewed some of my favourite bands and made a lot of friends – and one enriching boyfriend - in the music industry I am so grateful for. Matthew Angus, Lucas Samuels, Melody Lamb, Whitney Pineault, the gangs at Buying Shots, Take Media and AudioBlood, just to name a few! If I wasn’t Sticky staff, would I still be flooding your twitter feed?!

I was over the moon when I discovered Sticky made it in the top 20 in CBC Radio 3’s Searchlight for the best Canadian music website. I think I can speak for all of us at Sticky when saying how thankful we are for all the votes and support from friends, bands and publicists. Although we didn’t make it in the top 10, I’m still pretty damn proud of us. I will continue to vote for my other friends in the music writing biz until the contest ends March 10. I’m sure the rest of the staff will do so as well.

Alas, I end this love letter with my recent interview with Verge Music Awards winners Michou. You can read my full report of the night here. Now, we all know I love gingers as much as I love music. I had a nice ginger moment with Mike Hargreaves backstage. Michou has been one of the nicest bands I’ve interviewed to date! Listen here:



To reiterate, I’m oozing with gratitude over this past year and giddy with anticipation for what lies ahead for me and Sticky Magazine. Many thanks over and over again.

An Engine Driver on a Long Run

Earlier this month, I entered a contest on a whim and a few days later, I received the email informing me two tickets to see The Decemberists were mine. So, my date and I moseyed on over to the most rural and awkwardly placed venue in Toronto. We were going to bask in the glow of free stuff!

I never considered myself a die hard Decemberists fan – although I am a die hard fan of ample amounts of musical acts. That night I was waiting to be pleasantly surprised and complately taken over by the live music.

When Colin Meloy started singing “I’m an engine driver on a long run, on a long run…” nostalgia took me on a carpet ride to the time I was 15, discovering the world wide web and discovering some damn good music. Along the way, I stumbled into the presence of a pretty stellar boy named Joel Cummings. We became pen pals for what seemed to be years. Obviously, like any Shakespearean tragedy, he was in Calgary and I was in Toronto. I only realize this now, as I’m writing this and as I’m happy in the company of a marvelous boyfriend – all handsome things come from Calgary. Seriously.

Joel and I had a pretty neat friendship as far as penpals go. We made contact as fast as Canada Post could let us. I got featherbrained whenever I checked the mailbox and his envelope was as thick as a magazine. I was smitten to receive adorable gifts like a panda pen from his trip to South Korea. Let me just state this: he was never my boyfriend. I was never the kind of girl to find boys online and declare them my paramour. He was a lovely boy who was enthusiastic about introducing me to new music and books. Nothing more, nothing less.

After a few rounds of paper, we commenced into plastic. As he kept mailing me mix CDs, I kept discovering all these great Canadian (and some American) artists I knew nothing about. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be an avid listener of The New Pornographers, Russian Futurists (Karkarodon Karkarius was our jam!) or The Decemberists.

The first Decemberists track he introduced me to was July, July! But it wasn’t until Engine Driver that I was truly captivated. When I heard it live during that concert, I couldn’t help but thing of my ol’ prairie friend, wondering where he is now and what he’s doing with his life. Somehow, and I’m still puzzled at how it all happened, we dropped like flies and lost all communication.

I make a lot of friends. I have a lot of first dates. Rarely do I meet people “best friend” or “second date” worthy. A lot of people come in and out of my life like I’m a revolving door to a mega mall. I’m not as bothered by it as I should be. But there are those moments like during the Decemberists set where I can’t help but miss people and want them back.

My mind wanders about what Joel Cummings is like right now. Maybe he’s a record label executive. Maybe he’s written books that I just haven’t discovered at Chapters yet. Maybe he’s selling cocaine in Mexico, God knows. I’m so curious. And short one potentially amazing friend.

It makes sense to dedicate this song to you, dude. Wherever you are, hope all is well.