Music, Throwback

MMVA set up, Queen St., Toronto, ON, June 2009

Do people do throwback Thursday on Tumblr?

In honour of Now declaring MuchMusic dead, here are some photos of the set up for the Much Music Video Awards that I took back in 2009.

I hope Much Music can resurrect itself. I do believe it has a place showing Canada back to itself, and for every jaded journalist who thinks protectionism is a sign of weakness and CanCon should be burned at the stake, I’ve got the memory of a little Canadian tween who moved to the U.S. at eleven and would watch MuchOnDemand religiously to feel at home. I always hoped one day I’d be a VJ and get to walk around the Chum building like Strombo and Amanda Walsh and finally find out whose hand was up Ed the Sock’s ass. I think there’s a misconception that Canadians want to be Americans, particularly Torontonians and particularly with our media. TRL was more glamorous, but I always wanted to be on a street corner with Rainbow Sun because to me it always felt weightier, more real, more of who I was. We were always a little bootleg, but we swore more and had better videos and everyone seemed like they were having more fun.

So here’s to you not dying Much Music. I hope you re-find your voice, dig yourself out of the grave with some Canadian know-how, and inspire another generation to know it’s okay to embrace who you are, even if you don’t have the prettiest face or the best production values.


DIANA “Strange Attraction”

New favorite jam: DIANA’s “Strange Attraction.”

It sounds like if Isabella Rossellini’s character from Blue Velvet moved to Brooklyn (West Queen West?) and got a prescription for Lexapro and then started sweetly making love to your eardrums. Then you took her to brunch and cuddled while watching Drive.

Also their singer is hot as fuck (I mean that in a respectful way) and is the only person to ever make overalls look cool.


Highschoolers in Toronto Round II

I’m officially a jaded city-dwelling university student. The longer I live here and the older I get the more high school students and non-Torontonians seem to stick out. And nothing proves you’re bitter more than when people’s enjoyment of things you don’t even notice anymore becomes irritating.

A couple months ago I was in Kensington looking for hipster sunglasses to wear to the Scotty Dynamo show when I saw a bunch of high schoolers there on a field trip. I must have been wandering around for close to a couple hours, and not once did I see them step away from one of the shitty stalls with the piles of colored wayfarers. Zero exploration. Not even to a smoke shop, which I would think would be pretty fascinating for a suburban teenager, I mean I remember walking around Queen Street when I was sixteen and being freaked out by Friendly Stranger (and moreso The Condom Shack.) They didn’t even go to another plastic Taiwanese sunglass shack, the existence of the one shack was enough to amuse them for 2 whole hours.

Today watched a bunch of high school scenesters (can you be a scenester past 18 anyway?) freak out over the fact you can legally cross at Yonge & Dundas diagonally. I mean it, it was like Craig Owens floated down from the sky and offered to autograph their neon Nike high tops. They were that amused. They were standing in the middle of the intersection dancing around, so overcome with joy that they all forgot they were standing on a road and 30 seconds later were in front of several lanes of oncoming traffic.

whiskey sour at labyrinth toronto

Annex Adventures

Fuck it was so ~*lovely*~ out on Friday, Jessica and I determined it was imperative we find a way to enjoy the weather while  eating for maximum joyousness. So we went to Victory Cafe since neither of us had ever been there, and our food bible BlogTO always writes favorably about it.



We walked past this “mural” on Harbord. Children make shitty artists. I support the tiny Wu Tang fan in his/her quest to reach their full thug potential, but the crazy mouse man beast (is its Afro shaped into ears, or is it a black Mickey Mouse?) was fucking disturbing.

Anyways, we got a prime patio spot at Victory, and promptly ordered foooood.



I got a cheeseburger and Jessica got chili-cheese fries. I don’t know if its just because now, left to my own devices, I am starving, but I swear to God it was the best fucking burger I have ever had. And it came with this tiny container of ranch-like sauce that I kept dipping my fries in because though not visibly obese, I am so fucking fat on the inside.

Janice came by but we were already done eating so we moved on to Green Room so that she could get food and continue the patio adventure.


But not before being intimidated by Honest Ed’s.


Yay Green Room.


So we sat on the patio that no one knew existed until recently, and Janice ordered a sandwich and we got a few drinks. I do not trust the food at Green Room. Just because a place serves food does not mean you should eat it. They have sweet massive plates of $2 fries, and “quesadillas” (really just cheese in a tortilla) that I’m obsessed with, but I’m not venturing beyond that. Its a student pub, they can pull a tap or mix simple drinks and maybe bring you a plate of nachos, but I refuse to anything masquerading as a real meal.


It got pretty fucking gloomy out so we went inside. Our preemptive strike against mother nature allowed us to claim the couches, usually impossible because under normal circumstances no one ever leaves the building before midnight, but the experience was kind of wasted on the fact that there were like, 3 of us. Geoff and Paul came down, then we headed to Lab for $3 Jack night. Evidently $3 gets you a lot of Jack at Lab. Even Geoff, who shortly after I met him, was drinking whiskey and milk or some other abhorrent combination, thought the drinks were fucking strong.


Then Jessica, Geoff and Paul left to go see The Miles play at The Boat, but I was so fucking tired even my love of infectious dance music could not keep me awake.