Speaking of Holly Golightly and covers, here’s a rendition of Pavement’s “Box Elder.” By this time Golightly had firmly established herself as a solo artist, and was close to leaving Thee Headcoatees. “You Shine” was a track from her Serial Girlfriend album; this was the b-side on the seven-inch. 

Sorry to all the Pavement fans out there, but the original “Box Elder” sorely needed a kick in the pants. Listening to the two side by side, it sounds like Stephen Malkmus and co. are the ones doing the cover, with Malkmus straining to reach the high notes. Meanwhile Golightly’s out there pulling out all the stops; the drums sound better, the guitars are turned up to 11, and Golightly’s rough voice give the whole production a sort of garage rave-up feel. 

Listen closely for the final line: “I’m gonna head out some place that I can’t understand.” Not exactly Ella Fitzgerald screwing up “Mack The Knife” and pushing on anyways, but still fun nonetheless if you know the original. Next.

Plastic Bertrand’s first hit, “Ca Plane Pour Moi,” is regarded in some circles as a new wave classic; this might explain why there are so many bloody covers of it. I count at least eight different versions out there so far.

The original chugs along nicely, with a saxophone adding a bit of spice to an otherwise straightforward upbeat rock song. Loosely translated, the title reads “This Life’s For Me.” Loosely translated, the song’s lyrics turn out, apparently, to be nonsense. Not that most people without a decent background in French will know or care—the main attraction is the loopy woo-ooo-ooo-ooh! in the chorus, a refrain you’ll probably repeat in your head for days.

Freedom Of Choice was a pro-choice charity effort whose musical modus operandi was to get alternative bands of the moment to play new wave hits of the 70s and 80s. Among the artists involved: Yo La Tengo, Mudhoney, Superchunk and Sonic Youth (A personal favourite of mine is the Polvo track, a cover of “Mexican Radio”).

Apparently this version of the song has new nonsense lyrics; I can’t tell because my French is abysmal. As you would expect from Sonic Youth, this version is a lot noisier and—dare I say it?—grungier than the original. The extra grit does wonders for the song. Extra points for the vigorous falsettos during the chorus.

Connect the dots time: Holly Golightly (not to be confused with Canadian band Holly Go Lightly) was last seen putting out her latest album, Truly She Is None Other, but just before that she got a fair amount of press riding on the coattails of the White Stripes, on which she sang “It’s True That We Love One Another” with Jack and Meg White. Her solo outings have traced a similar path to the Stripes, with more emphasis on the country and blues aspects versus the all-out lo-fi rock.

Before that, though, Holly Golightly was a member of Thee Headcoatees. This description may not give the band enough credit, but essentially Thee Headcoatees were a lo-fi garage-rock girl group, with all the Svengali associations inherent in the term “girl group.” The puppetmaster here was one Billy Childish, who along with his own band Thee Headcoats, formed a sort of garage-rock empire in the early and mid-90s. I don’t know how seriously he took his music, but much of it is pretty light fare in the sense that it seems to have one purpose—to overwhelm you with distortion and guitars. It’s simple, it’s brash, and it’s oddly endearing.

This particular rendition of “Ca Plane Pour Moi” is a perfect example of what Thee Headcoatees are all about—the sass and energy of a 60s girl group fused with the snarl of 70s Ramones-style punk. The Headcoatees manage to make the track sound as if it was always a raw garage-rock classic—no small feat.

It’s bleedin’ hot out there, and the promised thunderstorms for yesterday have still not arrived today. The sun’s set to bake and the air conditioning’s apparently set to off.

A perfect time for “More Sweet Soul.”

Eschewing the notion, “you can play punk even if you can’t play your instruments,” Pretty Girls Make Graves practice a keen sort of precision in their music that stands in contrast to the loud, fast and hard songs they play on this first album. The net effect is a collection of excellent tracks that pull out all the stops, but reveal complexities in the guitar lines and drum fills the closer you look.

I missed their last show in Toronto in April due to prior commitments. I hear they’re even better live, though—presumably the result of touring for the better part of four years—so you can be sure I won’t make that mistake again.

Speaking of hockey songs, here’s one.

The Tragically Hip exhibits many of the same qualities as Canada itself: consistent, conservative when they need to be, passionate when they want to be, and unappreciated south of the border. And yeah, they’ve got some hockey songs. “Fifty Mission Cap” definitely got more airplay and respect, and their back catalog is larger than I can fit into my head, so I’m probably missing a bunch. This is my personal favourite, though.

I think it’s fair to say that, if pressed, every Canadian could think of a song that paid due tribute to our country. True, many of these songs are hockey songs, but they’re damned good hockey songs, and when was the last time you heard anyone put two chords together for American football or cricket?

Joel Plaskett, for whatever reason, stakes a claim to Canadiana that seems stronger somehow than most. Maybe it’s because he’s trekked across the country many times over, both as part of Thrush Hermit and with his own band, the Joel Plaskett Emergency. The man’s played in Kingston four times in four years at least—for a city that so rarely sees anyone of consequence pass through for a gig, he’s given it a lot of love.

“Light Of The Moon,” off the same album as this particular track, is a Canadian travelogue of sorts. It’s a fantastic closer to a great album, and really you should go buy Down At The Khyber right the hell now. However, if you need a little prodding, I can think of no better track for today than this.

Yay, Canada. May you not be annexed by imperial powers nor wiped off the face of the planet by swarms of locusts for another 137 years.