MASSEY HALL!
May 7, 2011
And so the long-awaited night finally arrived: the Low, concluding their 20th-anniversary-of-Shakespeare-My-Butt tour in the finest, most storied concert venue Toronto has to offer. Playing Massey is something pretty phenomenal , seeing the name of a long-suffering local indie band up there on the big signs, just after Paul Simon and before Neil Young. At the ‘Blue Moon’ show back in December, Stephen Stanley had mentioned that this was a possibility, and that he had worked at Massey Hall as an usher as a teenager – and when the official ‘fanclub presale’ announcement went up, I was (by sheer dumb luck) online pretty much right when it got posted, and thus managed to score myself a front row ticket, rather to my own disbelief.
A little after I’d bought my ticket, there came another announcement, of a ticketed after-party in the Massey Hall basement bar, and I admit, I dithered over that one a fair bit longer. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet Ron and Stephen a number of times, after all, and without having to obtain an extra ticket to do so. Not to mention the fact that the ‘Centuries’ bar has a capacity of something like 200 or so: not exactly a super-intimate affair. But eventually, I came to my senses and realized that (a) for the amount of joy this band has brought to my life over the past two decades, I certainly do not begrudge them an extra $20-plus-tax of my hard-earned money, and more importantly, (b) I wanted to be a part of as much of this glorious night as I possibly could. I locked down my after-party ticket and wondered why I’d debated so long.
While waiting for the Massey Hall show, I did of course also manage to take in the band’s stop in Hamilton in April, but I have already written that up in (excruciating) detail, so suffice to say it only heightened my anticipation for May 7.
When the time finally came to head downtown for the show, it seemed fitting that it was the most perfect, golden, slanting-sun-washed early evening that May can sometimes provide. It was a fitting visual to kick off what I knew would be a night to remember. I had a flashback, making the lane change from Eastern Avenue onto the Richmond Street off-ramp, of riding that off-ramp in a school bus, enroute to see the Toronto Symphony at Massey Hall for field trips in grade 5 and 6, back when the symphony still played there. I remember as a kid, how vertiginous it seemed to emerge into the balcony – or were we in the gallery? – and look down steeply into the hall. It’s a building that creates a sense of occasion all by itself.
Parked the car and ambled around a bit, realizing that I had a fair bit more time to kill than I’d planned, but by about ten to seven, anticipation got the better of me and I just had to go and stand there on the street and look at the big sign and the big red doors, even though they were still closed, and to see LOWEST OF THE LOW on the schedule with my own eyes. It got real, very suddenly, and I stood there trying to wrap my head around just how this must all feel from the band’s perspective. (Deep thoughts notwithstanding, I was aware that I was just standing there on Shuter St. by myself like a doofus, so I did what every person in that position does these days: fiddled around with my phone to look busy.) While I was just absorbing all of this, in my peripheral vision I noted someone slipping out one of the aforementioned red doors; thinking that this meant the building was opening, I turned to see that in fact, it was Stephen coming out to greet some friends. I think I stood there like a deer in headlights for a good minute or so, debating forty years of parental instruction on not interrupting people more important than myself (ie, almost everyone) versus twenty years of being a fan of the Low. In the end, fandom won out (sorry, Mom and Dad…) and I did go over to say hello before he had to head back inside.
A couple of minutes later, an usher came out and said that although the hall wasn’t open yet, the bar downstairs was now open and we could feel free to head in via the box office if we liked. The first thing I noticed upon making my way down was that the price list at the merch table included Ron’s newest CD, ‘Straitjacket Love’, which he had said might possibly be ready in time for Massey. I snapped that up, as well as the ‘other’ Low t-shirt design (I had already bought one of the two designs at the Hamilton show), and gazed upon the limited-edition vinyl copies of Shakespeare. Alas, I’ve not had a turntable since they went with an ex in an early-90s breakup, so I couldn’t quite justify buying the record – but it was certainly a fun flashback to see lots of people walking around with them as the night wore on.
The bar was fascinating. On the way in, there were a series of panels with photos and ephemera from each of the decades of Massey Hall’s history, 1894 onwards. Being a museum person, I of course found this an excellent way to pass the time until the main hall opened, and even felt compelled to take a photo of my favourite headline. A fitting sentiment for the evening?
When the main hall opened, I headed upstairs and was shown to my seat by an usher, which only heightened my ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ feeling. My first thought was how enormous the stage looked, a fact that was accentuated by the Lowest of the Low banner that looked ever so much bigger at the Lee’s Palace and Hamilton shows. And I couldn’t resist taking this photo – I came for the band, I stayed for the legroom!
It wasn’t long at all before a fellow came out and introduced Mick Thomas and Squeezebox Wally (of Weddings Parties Anything, from Australia), and then the proceedings were well and truly under way. Mick and Wally did a couple of songs on their own, but before I knew it, they were bringing out Ron, Stephen and David of the Low to join them for the majority of their set, beginning with a memorable rendition of WPA’s ‘She Works’, which Mick described as having been the initial catalyst for the longstanding friendship between the two bands. They played about five songs together, then after the Low boys left the stage, Mick and Wally closed out their set with a brand-new song that I would guess might be called ‘On the Streets of Toronto’ – an amazing tribute to their feelings about Canada, and about the Low. I hope the song is released, and that Mick and Wally come back for a return visit soon.
The house lights went up, the crowd continued to pour in (really, I was quite scandalized by how many people missed the opening set; I suppose it was their loss, but still, I’m baffled), and it seemed like no time flat before Dave Bookman was coming out to introduce the Low. A riff of energy went through the place, and everyone was on their feet. Initially those of us down front were standing at our seats, since the professional photographers were moving back and forth at the lip of the stage, but there was no way in hell I could have sat down! And by about four songs in, Ron insisted that he wanted everyone to come up to the stage, dance in the aisles, and generally have a good time, which was certainly all the encouragement needed. I was stepping forward to the stage before he’d finished the sentence, which also meant that I could opt to rest an elbow on the stage while snapping photos – thus, out of the 90+ pictures I took, there are at least a few this time that aren’t blurry. This is rare for me!
Mick and Wally.
The crowd welcoming the Low.
The smile says it all…
As with the prior shows, the main set consisted of the entire ‘Shakespeare My Butt’ album, with Mick and Wally returning to add their contributions to a few songs as well. The electricity in the room was high throughout, but particularly once we were encouraged to come right to the stage; Ron had mentioned dancing and I certainly was, along with a liberal amount of just plain I’m-so-excited-I-must-jump-up-and-down. I did look over my shoulder a few times to catch the sight of the whole of Massey Hall sharing the mood, and I can only imagine how it must have looked from the stage itself. I had said before the show that this was the first concert I’d ever been to where I was as excited for the band as I was to see the band, and if the looks on their faces were anything to go by, my sentiment wasn’t misplaced. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bunch of rock stars look so much like kids on Christmas morning before. Wiser, worldlier than most kids – a little wickeder, too, probably – but that excitement was definitely palpable. Not that I’ve ever seen them play a concert that ever felt to me like ‘just another show’, but this night was DEFINITELY not any old show.
Ron mentioned early on that the show was being recorded for future broadcast on CBC Radio 2 and that we were all to cheer for the radio – I look forward to hearing the recording, although of course audio alone could never quite capture the full experience of being there. He also joked later that some of the banter between songs won’t make any sense on the radio, but I’m glad he didn’t let that stand in his way. He changed up a few lyrics to fit the occasion: ‘who’s your favourite WPA member’ in place of ‘who’s your favourite Pogue’ being perhaps the favourite.
After the close of the set, they left the stage for the briefest of breaks, while the crowd demanded their return. The encore began with just Ron and Wally for ‘Black Monday’ before bringing everyone else out, and they ended out the night with WPA’s ‘Knockbacks in Halifax’ and Billy Bragg’s ‘Help Save the Youth of America’… but what was really the icing on the cake for me was the inclusion in the middle of the encore of Stephen’s (as yet unreleased) song ‘Things I Wish I’d Never Seen’. I may have had a bit of a flailure when I recognized it starting; all I remember is thinking “is it…? Is it…? IT IS!” in pure glee. It’s a brilliant song, and sounded absolutely phenomenal with the full band and the incredible acoustics of the venue.
I would have happily stayed there for hours, just drinking it all in, but presumably the venue had a time limit, because the house lights came back up promptly after the one encore, and I thanked my lucky stars that I’d secured the after-party ticket; I would have been seriously bummed to leave at that point. Instead, I headed back down the stairs and joined the crush of people slowly making their way into the bar.
And it felt like a madhouse at first, a ton of people in that relatively small basement space and a din of excited voices everywhere with my ears still ringing from the speakers. One of the great things about being a fan of these guys, though, is the other fans – I’ve met so many people at shows over the years, that these days I know I can go to a show alone and pretty much always run into a number of friends and acquaintances. I stayed till just about the bitter end, till the bartender had done last call and the security guards started circling to sweep the last stragglers out, and somewhere in there I did get a chance to talk to all the guests of honour – and yes, to bring out my nerdy little laundry marker and get my shirt signed.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of a night: brilliant to have been a part of it, a little bittersweet to see these months of the Shakespeare anniversary come to an end, but looking forward to what comes next!
