Friends, foes, and love interests,
I haven't really been on my Fan Behaviour as of late. We haven't spoken since February, and I'm sorry I had to put our relationship on pause. I was forced to have a quick flirtation with the completion of my undergraduate degree, but I've moved on now.
During my time away I did write, most of it being school assignments, but some was for you. Slowly, I will release all of the words that have been stewing in my brain, which up until now have been barricaded behind thoughts of my final research project.
I've debated unveiling my tomes in chronological order, releasing the oldest work first, but that seems too logical. In this post, I will give you the highlights from what felt like the longest day ever, my road trip to London and Toronto. Stick around to the end for my lengthy conclusion about what it feels like to graduate and my thoughts on Taylor Swift's new album (don’t worry Swift-haters, you will like this part just as much as the rest of us).
Standing On Business
My day trip to London started at the bold hour of 6:00 am, which was a massive shock to all, considering my sleep schedule has been nothing if not eccentric for the past few months. Nevertheless, I cut through kilometres of fog on the two-and-a-half-hour drive, watching the sunrise and relishing the lack of traffic - save for the odd farmer.
Arriving in London, I drove through gorgeous streets where I had to restrain myself from craning my neck to take it all in. The road, unfortunately, took precedence for my eyes. The London Music Hall was relatively easy to find, thanks to Google Maps, but the route there showed me that London is not exempt from the maze of one-way streets that seems to afflict most mid-size cities I visit.
The building itself has an entrance nestled in the back of a parking lot, the doors to which do not prepare you for the expansive size of the building once you enter. The building has been modernized, but some of its OG charm resides in the upstairs sections and smaller venue room known as Rum Runners.
Having experienced long road trips like the one I was embarking on, I knew better than to assume I would be able to sniff out decent vegetarian food in an unknown city, but it seemed my pre-packaged lunch and snacks were in vain. The London Music Hall has an A&W built into it, with an order window connected to the inside of the venue. Couple that with two full-service bars and an intense lighting rig? You’ve got a pretty serious operation going on.
Walking in, conference attendees were greeted with a range of conference tables holding cards that explained the United Nations’ 17 Sustainable Development Goals - something I am very familiar with through my Environmental Studies degree (new drinking game, take a shot every time I mention my degree) - and music by Harina of OA(SIS), a DJ that filled the room with funky beats until the conference was ready to start. I am typically of the mindset that corporate events don't benefit from DJs but Harina was actually up there making music. Her beats gave me the urge to sit down and be my most productive behind my laptop.
The conference itself was put on by London City Music Hall. I was swayed to attend this year because of their strong focus on environmental and social sustainability. London is Canada’s first UNESCO City of Music. What does that mean? For local musicians, not much. Many end up leaving the scene due to an unfocused audience and lack of infrastructure, which decreases the ability of other small Canadian artists to think of London as a feasible tour stop. According to their website, the designation works to “plac[e] creativ[e] and cultural industries at the heart of [cities’] development plans at the local level.” Local and emerging musicians see the initiative as beneficial, but not to them. The city will bring in a good amount of “bigger acts” each year, but London-based artists are still waiting for the program to lift them up too.
I reflected on this as I listened to the conference’s opening address by Cory Crossman, Director of the London Music Office. Sandwiched between executives juggling two phones per hand and musicians vying for inclusion, I felt caught between two worlds.
The conference itself I loved.
Kim Fry, co-founder, board member and coordinator for Music Declares Emergency Canada, spoke about the pressing need for environmental action in the music industry, how we can decarbonize (decrease greenhouse gas emissions from) our live music events by focusing on audience travel, and how she worked to green the Junos. If you are interested in the music industry’s environmental impact Kim’s resume is a great one to look at because she has done so much to push for a green future.
“Climate dread is the new climate denial”
There were also presentations by Kingston’s Broom Factory - the content of which I will save for when I visit the venue at the end of the month ;), discussions of corporate investments, the formation of creative spaces in cities, and lots of money talk - both having it and begging for it in grant applications. My eight full pages of personal notes and ideas born from all the amazing speakers and panellists are a key indicator of how much I learned.
For me, the event closed out with the Thunder Queens, since I decided to skip closing remarks and work (in vain) to beat Tuesday’s traffic. The Thunder Queens are a London-based punk grunge trio of three teens who started writing songs and performing together when they were just 9 and 10 years old. Already, they have opened for Canada’s rock darlings - The Beaches - and released a full-length studio album. Everyone in the room had been waiting for this group to play and it was well worth the wait. Loud and in your face, these young musicians impressed everyone there.
Tickets To The Opera
I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say travelling to my Airbnb in North York and then down to The Opera House in whatever “east downtown” means was unpleasant. I missed the entirety of the opener, Carpool Tunnel, and arrived at the door - Red Bull pouring down my throat as I heard the second opener - Heart Attack Man, playing my favourite song of theirs while I was forced to wait in line. At that moment, I was a victim of my own hubris. You are now a victim of my run-on sentence. Sometimes, you can’t have it all.
However, once I got inside (and got my emergency marker confiscated by security) I walked into the crowd knowing I had missed my three-song photography allowance, resigning myself to wait for the next band. As frustrated and exhausted as I was, I still managed to enjoy Heart Attack Man’s set - or at least what was left of it. This fivesome was high energy and electric, forcing much of the crowd to take a serious sweat break outside during the interlude.
The Opera Hours itself is genuinely decorated like an opera house. There are ornate balconies, large paintings of historically dressed women, draping curtains, and stained glass detailing. The venue opened as an Edwardian vaudeville stage in 1909 and changed into a movie theatre, a performing arts center, and now a concert venue over the years.
When Origami Angel got on stage I triumphantly made my way into the photo pit. Origami Angel is a two-piece emo band from Washington D.C. I was quite excited to take photos of the pair since I assumed all of the typical issues that come with taking photos of drummers would disappear, as the band's drummer, Pat, would be situated at the front of the stage. Unfortunately, although the band had a cool light show, Pat was completely void of light for the majority of the night, but some of my photos made it through.
I'm a big fan of Origami Angel, and so was the audience, who joined each other in aggressive moshing, immediate crowd surfing, and fan chants. The band blends a range of rock and emo adjacent genres to create their sound, including distortion, sugary sweet melodies, and heavy breakdowns. From listening to the band, I could tell that they were a bit nerdy, I don’t know how to explain it. When I came to Toronto and saw the band’s vocalist and guitarist, Ryland, wearing a Legend of Zelda shirt I felt quite vindicated.
However, as I go through their discography with more attention than just putting it on shuffle and walking away, I am realizing the open nerdiness of sings like Sapphire or the very obviously named Kobayashi Maru (My Very Own)*. Maybe there was no mystery to be solved in the first place . . .
(*In Star Trek, the Kobayashi Maru is an elite training exercise)
Finally, the headliner came on stage. If you have seen any of Fan Behaviour’s Instagram stories, you will know I have a small stuffed animal named after this band, Microwave. From Atlanta, Microwave plays what I can only describe as dirtbag rock, music about being at your absolute worst and occasionally revelling in it. However, their new album has taken quite the sonic shift, moving away from the aggression you can hear in previous records.
Microwave opened their set by having their drummer, Tito, come on stage in a heavy house coat to light a stick of incense and play some opening chords on a synthesizer, before heading to the back of the stage to get into position. As the rest of the band, joined him on stage, four massive glowing mushrooms began to rise, inflating to be around 4 feet tall. The set was dreamlike, as the band managed to do a lot of storytelling with their limited props and lighting design. These bright figures were a big hint to the vibe of this tour’s stage performance, as they were only on their second night of the Let’s Start Degeneracy tour.
The lack of experience in this tour was noticeable for Microwave, with a small fleet of technical difficulties through the night. I will be interested to see whether or not their setlist changes throughout the tour since the band started with some of their heavier more energetic songs and moved into quite a lull during the middle of their set. The audience energy was so low that I went to the bathroom in the middle of their set because I wasn't worried about missing any of their high-energy songs. Microwave then went on to leave the stage without playing their two most popular songs, forcing the audience to call for a fake encore. I'm a really big hater of fake encores. I know that they do have some logistical purpose, ensuring the band ends their show on time and that they have music prepared for an encore, but it's frustrating to see bands hide the songs that people want to see the most in their setlist as part of an encore that is already planned, as opposed to playing that song during their set and then one more time as an encore if it's requested.
Microwave gave out hundreds of free posters and stickers after the show, which I actually thought was pretty cool of them. I did inquire at the merch table about whether or not any of the bands were selling patches, but there was no luck. I'm on a mission to fill my denim jacket with black and white patches, so let me know if you find any cool ones.
I still really like Microwave and even their new album. I think it was really well done and flowed together quite well. I am seeing a bit more of a trend in artists moving away from trying to produce albums that could stand as singles and back towards but I believe that is the ultimate version of an album; an album that is best listened to in sequence. I think that Microwave did a really good job at building a complete project and blended their mix of low and high-energy songs well, even if their stage show didn't reflect that.
Afterwards, I returned to my car, grateful for the lack of parking ticket (I was worried I would receive one due to the complex and dubious nature of the parking signage, but I was well within my right to park there). The drive back to the Airbnb was much quicker than the drive from the Airbnb to the venue, and I was able to make it back in good time to fall asleep. However, much to my chagrin, the other Airbnb guests - as it was vaguely hotel-style - made the sleeping aspect a lot more difficult. Hopefully, I have better luck in “neighbours” when I stay in Kingston later this week.
Swift-ly Ending My Degree
When Taylor Swift’s Midnights came out I was living in an apartment building for the second time. Between both rentals, I had lived in many different places and cities. The first time I lived in this specific building was the first time I properly moved out of my parents’ house. During my second tenure there, I walked to class in the bright morning against while listening to the first couple of songs on Midnights that I could fit into my commute.
Now, at the end of my degree, the second last day (technically the last day by 19 minutes) I walked to campus under a sky with no stars listening to Taylor’s next album.
I am learning that things are only special when you make them so. Your night out is only the best night of your life if you spend hours telling people that tonight is going to be the best night of your life. Your graduation is only special if you attend and make a big deal out of it. I am old enough now that people are not going to make a big deal out of things for me anymore, so I have to do it myself. My graduation only matters to me if I'm able to write something about it, to let myself feel something about it, to go for a walk about it.
There is no one around on this late-night stroll, everyone is either studying or partying or on their way back from one to start the other.
In her song Down Bad, Taylor says the phrase “ teenage petulance” and that is exactly how I feel listening to her album that is so focused on the past. When I first moved to campus I was 17 and acted like it. I remember shocking people in classes that I was in, as some of my first lab partners ended up being 21 or 23. I remember the impossibility of being older, of having established lives like them.
I spent the next hour or so pacing my faculty buildings, which were supposed to be locked but were strangely wide open and filled with light. I thought about the posters I hung to be elected to the university senate, about how I used to be too afraid to sit in the environment student coffee shop, and about how I was slowly becoming a guest at the University I used to be a resident of. Everything seemed to be losing its special quality, maybe that's because it stopped being mine.
I eventually fell asleep before the 2:00 a.m. version of the album was released and submitted my final assignment when I woke up. There was no fanfare, there was no congratulatory email, I was just done. What a shocking disappointment.
But, the next day, when I told my friend that I was done, she drew the attention of everyone around and clapped for me. I guess part of making things a big deal is being around people who will celebrate for you.
Talk soon,
E
PS, don’t forget to listen to this month’s playlist for all the songs mentioned: