Photos: Scott Martin
By his own admission Simon Ward is a high and low guy, but The Strumbellas’ frontman was soaring at Mavericks on Friday.
It was the third time this year that the beloved Canadian indie outfit rolled through the capital, and their following seems to grow with every event—with good cause. The band’s late 2013 effort We Still Move on Dance Floors was a revelation, winning a 2014 Juno for Roots & Traditional Album of the Year (leading to an endearingly vulnerable acceptance speech). The award was a natural progression from their previous record, which was nominated in the same category in 2013.
Romantic Dogs in tow
This time, The Strumbellas brought fellow Toronto up-and-coming rock act and CBC darlings Sam Cash & the Romantic Dogs with them. Son of 90s Canadian music scene staple Andrew Cash, Sam’s band filled Mavericks with crunchy, riffy songs about Toronto and women—to the applause and mild adoration of the venue’s female contingent.
Cash’s songs are catchy—and rootsy Canadiana is a commodity in a global industry that strives to sound American (British punk-rockers excepted, who are themselves a commodity now). The Romantic Dogs’ set grew on me.
The Strumbellas didn’t waste any time, jumping on stage not long after Sam Cash’s band vacated it. They’ve developed since the first time I saw them—they’re confident and on their game. Not that they weren’t before, but when you see a band three times in a year, you notice incremental shifts in the band’s attitude.
The Strumbellas at the top of their game
Meanwhile, their group dynamic hasn’t changed at all. The rhythm section—Darryl James (bass) and Jeremy Drury (drums)—all grins and focus. The melody—Isabel Ritchie (violin) and Jon Hembry (lead guitar)—jamming together at house left. The harmony—David Ritter (keys)—infinitely unfazed and goofing with the audience at the right. And of course, Simon Ward in the middle, somehow managing to look completely alone and surrounded with warmth simultaneously. A family man on the road away from his family, doing the best he can with his second one.
I’ve seen dozens of loud punk bands at Mavericks, but The Strumbellas easily matched them in real-estate, even during their more subtle moments (like the delicate and irresistible “Run”). Another highlight was hearing the crowd clap along with the verses of “In This Life,” a dark, yet optimistic stick-in-yer-header that effectively serves as a mandate for Ward’s lyrical style. Don’t get me wrong—Ottawa knew their songs at Zaphod’s 11 months ago, but there are more of us now (read: us).
They ran through their usual set, with a few changes. They even gave us a new song—which definitely asserted that Ward’s desire to make a new record in 2015 will yield more accolades for everybody’s (and my) favourite urban crooners. I just hope that their time in the studio doesn’t cut into their visits to my city.
Although The Strumbellas live in Toronto, they will always have a home away from home when they visit Ottawa. And every time I hear them open a set with “Home Sweet Home,” it’s more comforting to me that this city is mine, as well.
