One of the benefits to living in what is apparently the darling of the hipster universe these days, Canada, is that we’re ahead of the curve. Feist has gained a lot of traction in the States over the past year, but we heard her second album back in 2004. And now that attention is focused on the demos she cut with Sloan in 2002-2003, it’s time to point your attention to another track you may not have known about, from an album almost no one bought: Feist’s debut, Monarch. Recorded back when her most famous gig was as a strapping young guitarist for By Divine Right, Monarch was a much more straightforward indie rock album of the late-90s vintage, when the era of radio-friendly Canrock like Limblifter, Change Of Heart and Treble Charger was on its way out. But even without the nostalgia trip, “It’s Cool To Love Your Family” is a lovely track that points to a different possible direction for Feist, closer to PJ Harvey than Françoise Hardy. Consider The Red Demos the missing link between those early days and the chanteuse you know today.

I used to have the video (!) for “It’s Cool To Love Your Family” on my computer somewhere; it’s also worth watching in much the same way Bay commercials starring Neve Campbell are worth watching.

Of all the principals of Ash, you would’ve thought that frontman Tim Wheeler would’ve been the one to start a solo career; he is, after all, the main songwriter and the lead singer. But the news of Charlotte Hatherley’s amicable split with Ash comes hot on the heels of word that her second solo album will see release later this year. For Hatherley, it’ll mean she won’t have to split her recording time between her own material and the next Ash album, also being recorded this year. For Ash, it’ll mean they return to the lineup they started with a decade ago, when they were snotty Irish teenagers with a penchant for Star Wars and Jackie Chan. For the rest of us, it’ll probably mean business as usual, for the most part; Ash fans won’t get to see the lovely Hatherley blast riffs with the boys anymore, and North American fans of Hatherley won’t get to see her at all (our one and only chance having been Ash’s North American tour in mid-2005). But there’ll still be another Ash album and, thankfully, another Chaz album, and that’s really all that matters.

Hatherley comes full circle with this cover of Kim Wilde’s “Kids In America,” the song she namechecks in the song that introduced Hatherley to the world, “Kim Wilde” (yes, it all gets a bit confusing and meta). I think this was recorded during a live session on XFM, but as this basically came out of the internet ether, there’s no way to know for sure.

What do you do when the one thing that made you so popular is the one thing you can no longer rely on? That’s the question Pretty Girls Make Graves should have asked itself before recording their third album, due out in April. The Pretty Girls Make Graves template combined the aggressiveness of punk rock with some extremely proficient players and the riot-grrl vocals of frontwoman Andrea Zollo. While the band’s performances on record and on stage are uniformly excellent and amazingly skilled—watching the two guitarists battle on stage is especially awesome—what set Pretty Girls Make Graves apart from the rest was Zollo’s contribution. If there’s an easy point of comparison, I suppose it’s Corin Tucker (who was once in a riot-grrl band herself, Heavens To Betsy), but Zollo’s sheer aggressiveness and volume would destroy Tucker were the two ever to duke it out with dueling microphones.

Or, at least, she would’ve if this were still 1999. The reason why Pretty Girls Make Graves can no longer rely on Zollo’s voice for its punch is because she simply can’t sing the way she used to anymore. Good Health is an amazing record, but also a punishing one; even while touring for the album, Zollo would admit to crowds that she didn’t know if her voice could hold out, and by the time that tour ended the damage was clear: she had nodes on her vocal cords that threatened to destroy her voice entirely. Sadly, she won’t even perform those old chestnuts anymore because of the possibility of further damage. As a result, starting with The New Romance, Zollo altered her singing style by practically eliminating the yelling and screeching that caused most of the damage.

“The Nocturnal House” is an advance MP3 single from Elan Vital, the forthcoming album, and the difference between Good Health and the new album is obvious. Masked by layers of distortion and sticking to the lower registers, Zollo sounds more like a caged animal, unable to stretch her legs the way she used to on songs like “More Sweet Soul.” The blistering energy of Good Health has now bled away completely; this mid-tempo effort lacks even the simmering intensity of many New Romance tracks. This isn’t to say that Pretty Girls Make Graves wouldn’t have pursued this direction even if Zollo hadn’t had to nurse her voice. But you do have to wonder.

Neko Case passed through town a couple of days ago to play an intimate show at the Rivoli, previewing songs from her upcoming album alongside some old favourites. I can’t say there are too many times when I appreciate being packed in like sardines, but this show was one of them. I’ve seen her three times, but I’ve never seen her so relaxed and comfortable on stage as last week, despite her anxiousness to get the new songs right. Part of it must be the crowd; tickets sold out in a flash, and everyone was excited to hear the new material. Plus the Toronto crowds must treat Case well, because she’s the only artist I know who seems to genuinely love this city as much as we love her. But a lot of the credit has to go to her backing band, a sort of all-star lineup from Case’s previous and upcoming albums. Among the luminaries was Rachel Flotard, who sang backup vocals and traded witty repartee with Case. Between her great performance, her sarcastic barbs and her stunning good looks, Flotard won over a lot of people that night.

Flotard’s a busy woman; when she’s not busy playing backup singer and winning sidekick, she writes an advice column fer the luvers and fronts Visqueen, a delightfully crunchy rock band from Seattle. Flotard plays slightly different roles when she’s in Visqueen mode; she sings, plays guitar and writes fairly straightforward, four-on-the-floor pop-punk material. On the surface, it’s all very catchy and energetic, if a little generic. But there’s a lot of musical talent backing the whole thing; “Blue” is quite the vocal showcase for Flotard, and the rest of the band is obviously very accomplished as well. And if the video for “Crush on Radio” is any indication, Flotard’s just as charming on stage when she’s running the show herself. You can hear the confidence in the music, too. Energy, chops and personality: not a bad combination.

It’s easy to wax sentimental about or carefully deconstruct twee pop. In fact, someone’s already analyzed and examined the twee pop movement, and it comes from a surprising source: Pitchfork. “Twee as Fuck” is a historical account and a manifesto all in one. Nitsuh Abebe on the future of twee pop:

Today’s indie world looks to be shaping up for the same kind of split that makes twee essential. Today’s “indie” world is remarkably professional; its notable acts, like the Arcade Fire, are the sort that would once have released their records on major labels. At the same time, we’ve seen the rise of something analogous to the hardcore bands of the 80s. It’s the underground world of post-hardcore noise where things are really happening, and along with that has come an old schism—between the tough punks and the drama geeks—with Pitchfork’s own Tom Breihan worrying about the Decemberists being “indie bedwetter dweebs” in his Village Voice blog.

(…)

If you’re young and starry-eyed, here’s your chance to get in ahead of the game: Grab a cheap guitar or a cheap keyboard, a four-track or a boombox, and make what you can. Someone, somewhere, will love you for it.

A House Full of Friends, a two-disc compilation from Portland’s Magic Marker Records, is that same manifesto in compact disc format. Culling from the back catalogues and demo tapes of the many bands that have played house shows at 4306 SE 34th Avenue, aka the Magic Marker House, A House Full of Friends is like a piece of late-90s indie nostalgia of the Pacific Northwest kind, when people still listened to indiepopradio.com and excited festivalgoers would write online journal entries about seeing Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder hanging out with C Average before a show. It was a time when Le Tigre was just a sketchy idea in the head of Julie Ruin, a time when Sleater-Kinney still played shows with the likes of Calvin Johnson. It was a time when labels like Up and K and Yoyo and Kill Rock Stars were like the twelve constellations, forming an entire universe of indie pop.

The album is fantastic from beginning to end, featuring contributions from the Lucksmiths, the Shins and the Decemberists. But the real gems are from bands you only vaguely remember, or bands you’ve never heard of: the Tiger Trap redux of All Girl Summer Fun Band’s “Grizzly Bear”; the almost-too-clever lyrics of My Little Brother’s “My Little Brother” (”My Little Brother brings my best friends together”); the childish breakdown of Eux Autres’ “Le Project Citron” (”They make a fashion, they make a champagne… I like champagne!”); the lush trumpets of the Salteens’ “Time You Have Been Wasting”; the archetypal indie pop sound of the Galactic Heroes’ “4306 SE 34th Ave.” And then there’s the stuff that isn’t on the CDs. The accompanying liner notes feature photos of the compilation’s bands, taken while they played shows in the tiny living room and basement of the Magic Marker house. There’s also a center spread entitled “How to Throw a House Show” that throws out a bunch of helpful tips on how to get the neighbours on side, how to promote your show, and what kind of sound system you’ll need. It’s a wonderful DIY touch to the whole package, and was actually the reason why I bought the album, I’m sorry to say—sorry because I honestly didn’t realize how awesome the music itself would be.

A lot of people won’t like this album. It’s too cute and it’s too amateurish; it’s not cool and it’s not current (for the most part). But if none of those things scare you, then you owe it to yourself to hit up Magic Marker and get them to send you a small piece of indie pop history.