Drag me away in the dark
“Bloodshot” – Julien Baker, Little Oblivions (2021)
Take me and tear me apart
Cause I’m still amazed you made it out alive
“Breakneck Speed” – Tokyo Police Club, Champ (2010)
After what you did
Vinyl collecting is an expensive hobby. During quarantine, I’ve been building up my collection. There’s too much damn good music coming out and too many anniversaries of great albums re-pressing their records on vinyl. And they’re all coming out in limited editions, capped at a certain number that are manufactured, and they’re all BEAUTIFUL – all different colours, clear, coke bottle, glow in the dark, tri-colour, confetti, splatter, and so much more creativity. I’ve maybe spent too much upgrading my audio system with a new (vintage 1970s) turntable and big bookshelf speakers. But hey, I’m not going to concerts and spending money on live shows! So might as well spend that money on more music – and still support musicians!
This Friday, the new Julien Baker album Little Oblivions (2021) dropped and I went to pick up the yellow limited edition vinyl from Kops Records on the Danforth. I walked past my old friend: The Danforth Music Hall. God I miss live music. And I miss grabbing a falafel wrap at the Ali Baba’s next door before shows. One day, old friend. And when I got home, a package was waiting for me – my vinyl for Tokyo Police Club’s Champ (2010), confetti rainbow splatter limited edition for the ten year anniversary of the album (Yeah, it’s 2021. TPC missed the actual anniversary, but still wanted to celebrate the milestone). I’ve been spinning both the last 48 hours and it’s felt great. I’ve always believed music evokes the emotions you need to feel at that very moment.
December 8th, 2016. Birthdays are tough for me. 23. “Another year, another year (none the) wiser.” I never knew how to feel about my birthday. It was always more of a lonely feeling. Maybe I always thought that I just wasted another year?
2016 was a difficult year for me. Earlier that year, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I dropped out of school for a semester to take care of myself. I felt stuck. What would I do with my life? Everyone’s moving ahead with their lives, and I’m just wasting time feeling sorry for myself. I was trying out different medications and it was wrecking my body. I didn’t know how I’d feel day to day. I got fired from a job. There was a secret, impromptu trip to Pittsburgh (that’s a story for another day). There were some dark moments in 2016 and the darkness almost claimed me.
But it was December 8th, 2016. And I was still alive. I was still “here”. I went back to school, determined to finish my undergraduate degree. I saw LCD Soundsystem, Arcade Fire, and The Killers (among other musicians) at WayHome with my friends. I was crying, surrounded by my best friends, when James Murphy crooned – in that cool way that only Murphy could pull off – “You spend the first five years trying to get with the plan, and the next five years trying to be with your friends again.” I still competed in Model UN with the University of Toronto United Nations Society (and I was still good and winning awards). I witnessed the Raptors make it to the Eastern Conference Finals. I adopted a dog – a Cockapoo named JJ – who still brightens my day, everyday. I saw some great concerts and watched incredible films. I was still writing about music.
But most importantly, my friends stuck by me. Maybe it’s cliché to say, but my friends saved me. When I thought I was alone and abandoned, they kept me alive. So that December 8th, 2016, I felt humbled and blessed.
I’m not even sure what I did during the day of December 8th, 2016. Was that the year I had lunch with my mom and presented her a detailed business plan pitching me opening up a coffee shop (another story, another day)? Maybe. Did I spend the day hanging out at Boxcar Social, having many coffees and maybe a beer in the afternoon? Probably. I have a piece from my old blog (that I saved) dated from that day. I always have dinner with my family at a restaurant of my choosing. I think it was Duff’s that year (with the best wings in the city, fight me).
But the important thing was that I had tickets to see Tokyo Police Club, just down the street on College at the (now closed) Mod Club. TPC’s shows were supposedly legendary. When I was in high school, TPC was the cool band you heard whispers about: “Did you hear their song ‘Tessellate’? I love that song ‘Your English is Good’! I hear they’re coming out with a new album, Champ?” I think I was in grade 12 when Champ (2010) dropped. But I instantly fell in love with that record. “A piece of a part, the end of the spaaaaaark!“
To say I was excited to see Tokyo Police Club – on my birthday nonetheless – was an understatement. I’ve written before about how live music is often a birthday gift for me – Broken Social Scene 2010, Bon Iver 2011, Stars with any of their Toronto Christmas shows. So I walked down College St from Duff’s to the Mod Club on that cold, but fresh winter night. It was maybe a five minute walk, but with my short legs, it was probably more like 8-10 minutes (it’s a real problem). I stood outside the venue, with all of the cool hipsters smoking their cigarettes and me craving a drag. I texted one of my best friends who agreed to come with me last minute: “Yeah hold on, I’m almost there.” Or that’s what you always say when you’re rushing to meet a friend already waiting at the venue, right?
When she got there, we entered the Mod Club. It was maybe about 5/8ths full. (Why the weird fraction? I don’t remember how packed it was, but it wasn’t empty. So my guess is somewhere between half and two-thirds full?) When the venue isn’t that full just minutes before the opener was about to come on, it means you get to choose a good spot to watch the show, but it also annoyed me because people should come see the opener! Especially when the opener was Shad, the great Toronto rapper, under his alternate band name, Your Boy Tony Braxton – an 80s inspired soft pop act. And as always, Shad entertained. I met him once when I was a barista. He’s a cool and nice guy.
An hour later, the Mod Club was packed to the brim. There were too many people surrounding you, taking up your personal space, radiating so much heat. I always found that quite annoying. But in this era where we’re starved of human interaction, I miss that intimacy that only exists at live music shows. Finally, it was time for Tokyo Police Club to take the stage.
The kids were teething
“La Ferrasie” – Tokyo Police Club, A Lesson in Crime (2006)
When they put me underground
No one ever saw breathing
La Ferrassie you know I’m found
It was fitting that Tokyo Police Club would end their set celebrating the tenth anniversary of a song off their 2006 EP, A Lesson in Crime. It was the record that earned them their notoriety. The EP that everyone whispered about – “It’s that great Toronto band. You’ve gotta see them.” Of course it was a great way to end the show. But hey, there’s always the “planned” encore. They hadn’t played their best songs yet. The band exits the stage, the crowd cheers, they come back on, thank the crowd for their support, and then they rip through a few songs for a grand finale, right? But that night, I remember the crowd being absolutely ecstatic, hungry for more of this band whose recorded music just couldn’t do justice to their high energy, hard hitting live performances. We were loud, screaming for the band to come back.
“With a heart-attack on your plate, you were looking back on your days…” The first song off Champ, “Favourite Food” – a track that starts off quiet and nostalgic, but explodes into wailing guitars, destroying everything in its path.
I remember it so vividly. With one of my best friends beside me, we were jumping along, the floor shaking.
Cause your knees are scratched and your eyes are…
A quick pause. A moment of hesitancy. Waiting for the next word to drop…
We screamed,
BLACK!
December 8th, 2016. I was jumping along to Tokyo Police Club. We were sweaty. We were screaming along to lyrics we’ve known for years. I was next to one of my best friends.
December 8th, 2015. I was sitting in the darkness, broken down, crying. I almost left. I chose my own exit. But I didn’t walk out that door.
December 8th, 2016. I was at the top of the world.
We walked down Ossington Street in the dark, our legs heavy from all the jumping and dancing, down to the infamous 24 hour diner, The Lakeview. I’ve spent many countless nights after 1am in the Lakeview’s booths, having a strawberry banana milkshake (the best milkshakes in the city, fight me). One time, I ran to the Lakeview after spotting a mouse run across my dingy room. I spent the night and early morning there, waiting for Home Hardware to open so I could buy mouse traps.
We called up our friend to meet us at the Lakeview for late night food and milkshakes. She was waiting for us outside the diner. Hugs. “Why are you all wet? Was it raining?” We were drenched in sweat. We just laughed. Sweaty hugs after live music shows: another victim of COVID-19.
December 8th, 2016. As the clock ticked towards midnight, to a new day, I savoured that moment. My favourite restaurant, having some of my “Favourite Food”, sipping my favourite strawberry banana milkshake, with two of my favourite friends. It was an intimate moment, one that comes so rare in life. It’s a memory burned into my heart, one that I will cherish forever. After a difficult year – one in which, 365 days before, I almost left – it was a magical night. One I will never forget.
Music is a curious thing. It can be so intertwined with memories – sometimes vivid, sometimes just a strong feeling. I got two new vinyl records: Julien Baker’s Little Oblivions (2021) and Tokyo Police Club’s Champ (2010). I spun that confetti rainbow splatter vinyl and blasted “Favourite Colour” at 16 on my speakers. “Cause your knees are scratched and your eyes are black!“
Music evokes the emotions you need to feel at that moment. It is, by its nature, cathartic. Julien Baker sings about the darkness and suicide on Little Oblivions (2021).
Drag me away in the dark
“Bloodshot” – Julien Baker, Little Oblivions (2021)
Take me and tear me apart.
Start asking for forgiveness in advance
“Hardline” – Julien Baker, Little Oblivions (2021)
For all the future things I will destroy.
That way I can ruin everything
When I do, you don’t get to act surprised.
Beat myself until I’m bloody
“Ringside” – Julien Baker, Little Oblivions (2021)
And I’ll give you a ringside seat.
Say that it’s embarrassing
I’m sorry that you had to see me like that.
On Little Oblivions (2021), Julien pleads for forgiveness. From her loved ones. From her family. From her friends. From God. But she struggles to forgive herself.
Cause I’m still amazed you made it out alive
“Breakneck Speed” – Tokyo Police Club, Champ (2010)
After what you did
December 8th, 2016. I struggled to forgive myself. But I was still alive.
February 27th, 2021. I’m still alive.