“Shoreline,” or “7/4″ depending on who you talk to, is a fairly old song—you can find a version of “7/4″ with Leslie Feist handling the female vocals dating back to March 2003. It’s also one of the few recorded glimpses we have of the next Broken Social Scene record, tentatively titled Windsurfing Nation (”because we had all these kind of glidey songs,” Brendan Canning told Billboard). Having not seen a BSS show since 2003 (and not remembering much from it anyway), I couldn’t tell you if their recent performances have revealed any changes or refinements to “Shoreline.”

It definitely does sound like a “glidey” song, whatever that really means, and as dangling bait for the next album, it’s pretty good. The wait for genuine new material, however, will be quite a bit longer; the last release date given was Valentine’s Day, but with just two weeks to go without mention of a set title or date, it seems unlikely we’ll see the album before the snow melts.

At most shows, there are two well-defined groups of people. There’s the keen first group, who really like the band and stake out a place at the front of the stage. They’re more likely to dance, they want really good sightlines, and some of them are going to try and grab a drumstick, guitar pick or setlist after the show. Then there’s the more laid-back crowd that can’t be bothered to stand for three hours; they’re content to talk to their friends, have a pint or two, and generally enjoy the music.

When you’re thinking in abstract terms, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with all-ages shows. I mean, don’t you wish there were more of them when you were 17? I sure do. But in reality, an all-ages show is more than just a concert with high school kids. See, the first group of people I mentioned? With the slight tendency towards dancing and the staking out spots at the front? They mutate into the high school crowd, who want nothing more than to talk to their friends, jump up and down a lot, and form a giant mosh pit of mass destruction. And that’s at a Low concert.

Imagine, then, the sheer chaos that is the first three minutes of an all-ages Pretty Girls Make Graves concert, and you’ll know what my night was like last night. “I run out of the theatre screaming” indeed. To the folks at Mesa Luna: please don’t book any more all-ages rock shows in your impossibly awkward and tiny dinner-and-dancing space—the second group of people I mentioned can’t see a damned thing from your second floor balcony, a full eighteen feet above the stage. I will buy all my friends salsa dancing lessons if that’s what it takes to keep you out of the concert business.

Is This Desire? is probably PJ Harvey’s least appreciated album. Parts of it sound dated, even by 1998 standards, and as the years go on more tracks fall into that particular abyss. And then there’s the dark and minimalist atmosphere. For example, if you’re not in the right mood, “Electric Light” is practically doomed to failure. It’s doubly unfortunate, then, that the ideal way to experience “Electric Light” is to string up a 20-watt light bulb in a coffin and bury yourself in it. Recommended only for the diehard PJ Harvey fan.

Too bad, because if you are in the right mood, “Electric Light” kills. It slowly buries its tendrils into your head, and does the ominous and creepy schtick better than most songs. Is This Desire? is full of tracks like “Electric Light”—obscure and occasionally off-putting, but worth the effort. And the more accessible tracks like “Angelene” and “The Garden” share the same aesthetic while offering a bit of respite. If you’ve held off on picking up the album, it’s worth trying to find a used copy to see how it strikes you now.

The Pacific Northwest doesn’t seem like the ideal place to make summer music. It’s no slouch when it comes to nice weather and rising temperatures, I guess, but it’s no southern California either. Plus there’s every other time of year, when it’s always grey and either raining or (as aptly demonstrated this week) flooding. So, uh, what’s the deal with the All Girl Summer Fun Band? I guess they have summers in Portland, but that’s about all I can say for the place as a hot destination in July.

Since their first single way back in 1999, the All Girl Summer Fun Band have dropped the more overt Summer references—no more polynesian luaus in their grass skirts—but have done the right thing and kept the Fun part. It’s still essentially super-cute girl group rock of the finest variety, exactly the sort of thing you’d imagine playing at a K-sponsored sock hop in someone’s basement, and it’s a year-round gift that keeps on giving. So even though it’s not summer, and the snow might be piling up by the foot outside, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t toss on a little twee-rock and steal yourself a boyfriend or girlfriend too.

Early in 2004, Matinée Records released a tribute compilation to the Smiths. Bands hosted by the California label tackled twelve Smiths songs and put their own versions to tape. If you wanted to be unfair, you could say it was an attempt by Matinée to make a splash by riding the coattails of Morrissey and company, but a funny thing happened—people really liked the album.

I haven’t heard the album myself, as I’m poorly equipped to appreciate even a second-hand rendition of the Smiths’ oeuvre; the number of Smiths songs I know well I can count on my hands. So I can’t really tell you if Australia’s Lucksmiths are committing some horrendous travesty with their cover of “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.” There is a sort of precedent, with the band having released another song the previous year called “There Is A Boy That Never Goes Out,” so at least the band’s up on their Smiths references.

For the cover, the band brought along singer Karen Morcombe and made the song a duet. The result is affecting, with all the angst and passion of two teenagers playing out their own Romeo and Juliet story. I don’t know if the people who grew up to love this song and take it to heart felt the same energy, but it definitely seems as though the Lucksmiths got this cover just right.

The downtimes between Sleater-Kinney albums has been increasing for the past couple of years. All Hands On The Bad One came out a scant fifteen months after The Hot Rock; and after a fairly lengthy tour the band decided it was going on break—how long, they didn’t really know. Turns out the hiatus was just over a year, and One Beat came in 2002. Ever since that tour ended, however, there had been an ominous silence from the Sleater-Kinney camp. With a decade-long career under their belts, Corin Tucker’s first child and criticism that One Beat didn’t do enough to evolve their sound, it would’ve seemed fair if Sleater-Kinney had decided to call it quits.

Turns out calling it quits wasn’t exactly what they had in mind. The Kill Rock Stars site had stopped giving us any updates whatsoever on Sleater-Kinney because they’d decided to move to Sub Pop, a bit of news that dropped in October. Since then, there’s been a flurry of activity—Pacific Northwest tour dates, a show at SXSW, and now a release date for the as-yet-untitled album: May 24, 2005. No one’s giving any clues as to what the new material sounds like (unless you managed to catch their NYE show with the Flaming Lips and Wilco, where they apparently played quite a bit of new material), but all indications point to a concerted attempt to try something new. Will it work? I’ve already got my Vancouver ticket, and will report to you shortly.