OD

 

 

SE I OTD LIL I I ET TT a OT I TO AI a TEE ORT IE ST

 

 

 

JASON KuURYLO

Break out the velvet shirts, kids!

The Orchid Highway is a
delightful surprise. Bounding on-
stage clad in big collared velvet
shirts, striped pants, and even a
couple of retro haircuts, they look
a little over the top. As five wry
grins turn to face the audience,
youre not quite sure what yourre
going to get. Thankfully, the ener-
gy and attitude on-stage is quickly
channelled through the music:
smartly crafted pop tunes, dance-
able and catchy, lush and full of
harmonies.

All reviews are supposed to have
comparisons, so I'll throw some
in—The Orchid Highway, in its
boyish, energetic synergy, is some-
what like The Who in their early
days. And while their music has
the same cartoon energy as The
Who, their instrumentation and
vocals recall more The Wonder
Stuff, or any number of solid Brit
bands bent on the music rather
than the image.

One thing that particularly
impresses me about this band is
their complete teamwork. Sure,
they have their individual
moments—the ever-grinning Rory
openly checking out a woman
entering the place while singing lead
vocal, for example — but these
guys are in it for the band. All too
often a band will have talented
parts, but end up with a mediocre
whole. Here the brotherly love is
clear; three members of the band
are brothers. All the individual

shagadelic,

 

Okay, this is actually a photo of Emm Gryner, and it’s supposed to go with the Lilith Fair story on the

  

 

previous page, but, well, it looks better here....

horn tooting is done for the team.
Orchid's parts are well oiled, and
once they get going, they're a pop
groove machine up there.

The lineup: Bass Guitarist Rory
Macdonald is, admittedly, a bit of
a cheese ball. With a moptop hair-
cut and a wide, flashy grin, Rory is
the perfect English rock star.
Lucky for us, he also plays a
wicked bass and helps give this
band its impressive personality.
His vocals are honest and open,
controlled without constriction.
Rory is the self-appointed obnox-
ious brother.

Lafflines Comedy Club

JOCHEN BIERTUMPEL

he show got started at nine
thirty when our host,
Jamie Hutchinson, made

some quick remarks about his
previous experiences in our great
country. Between every comedian
he came up and spent fifteen
minutes telling his jokes. He
performed very well and was an
entertaining host.

The first comedian up was
Marty McLean, who commenced
his act of jokes and impressions
regarding boxing and girlfriends.
Following him was Jay Brown, yes
the same guy who plays the park
ranger in the Kokanee beer com-
mercial. He also caused havoc and
got the audience all riled up with
his jokes about his Italian family.
Fitzy Fitzpatrick spent most of
the night making fun of alcoholics
and so forth. Her riotous topics
made people break out laughing.
The second to last comedian was
Schreder, he either made you want

‘2 Page 8 September 9 1998
—
\

to cry or just laugh until you
couldn't laugh anymore. Finally the
star comedian, Kevin Fox, entered
and told his comedic stories about
tantric sex and other touchy sub-
jects. Still the crowd took well to
him and kept on laughing.

What I really liked about the

~ New Westminster Lafflines

Comedy Club were the three
stages, the comfortable atmos-
phere, and the waiters asking us if
we wanted anything from the
kitchen. They served liquor as well
as non-alcoholic drinks.

It was altogether a hilarious
night. I thoroughly enjoyed myself
and I hope to go there again. It’s a
great place to go on a Friday or
Saturday night.

Guitarist John Woods (not a
brother) sums up three of the
’Chids goals on-stage: “People
work hard at work all week, and
the last thing they want to do is
hear about other people's problems
when they go to the bar. They
want to I) dance 2) sweat a little
and maybe 3) get a good shag at
the end of the night. So that’s
what we want to do, play fun pop
songs people can dance and have a
good time to.” Thus, the shagadelia
is brought to the fore.

Also on guitar and mandolin is

Jamie Macdonald, whose physical

alone, empty path

no voice

no laughter

ghosts within me
chanting, haunting me

the callous wind starts

baby, yeah!

File Photo

resemblance to Kid in the Hall
Mark McKinney is startling. He
pulls a neat trick at one point,
singing a lead vocal into the
strings of his guitar, producing a

haunting echo effect. Jamie is
subtle, sarcastic brother.

The third brother Derek

Macdonald. Quietly playing the
hell out of his keys and harmoni-
ca, Derek provides that extra layer

that so many multi-guitar bands
lack. Watch for his blonde locks

and his killer smile. He’s th

youngest, and quietest, brother.
The most recent addition to the

surrender

everything seems anemic

a stale haze lingers across the distant field

silence

except for the sounds of the forsaken sky

slowly weeping

no voices heard
except

for the ghostly chants in my own head

so appealing
so withholding
so inviting

alone i stand

in the middle of somewhere, nowhere
subdued by the overwhelming force

| yet, such euphoria

 

Orchid family is drummer Flavi

   
   
    

Monopoli. A fixture on the loc
scene for several years, Flavio
brings his clockwork skins to wo
every night. Besides being one o
the nicest guys you'll ever meet,
he’s also a force back there. Toni
it down or kicking some ass, he’s
the man. Flavio is not a brother,
either.

Originally from Winnipeg,
Orchid came to Vancouver by w
of London, England. They spen
two years on the Brit pop scene
before their work visas ran out.
From their refreshingly humorou
press release: “The Orchids qui
ly began to win over [London]
fans and attract the attention of
fat men in record offices...
Unfortunately some of these fat
men worked for Customs and
Immigration...”

Lyrically, these guys write a
smart pop tune. From ‘Drown, a‘
mid-tempo poppy love song (All
ways ‘you lifted me, just to let me
down / All the ways you rescued me, jus
to let me drown) to an awestruck t
of hitchhiking from the Prairies
Vancouver, there aren't many we
points in this set. Oh, and the
ni show-stopping anthem ‘Thanks
Million’ is as good a finale as I'v
seen any band pull out of their
hats.

Bottom line? Climb in your
Austin Mini, and drive The Or
Highway. It’s a shagadelic ride,
baby. Yeah!

e

i can fight no more
do not fight

for there is no need to
anymore

engulfed by this clandestine mass
slowly i am being devoured
reality becomes an illusive ploy

the sky imperceptibly darkens
yet disclosing something
tenebrous, nefarious

cry. but no one can hear
listen. but i am deaf
see. but i am blind

live. but i am dead

by Anita Lee