Published Oct 09, 2015Celebrating the release of their debut album, Sore, Toronto quartet Dilly Dally opted to go small, packing devoted fans into a tiny Toronto loft space that doubles as an office for a tech start-up during the day. Joining them were Buzz Records label mates Weaves, pairing Toronto's two "Most Likely to Succeed" noisy punk groups on one small, but very high stage.
Looming over top of the crowd, Weaves singer Jasmyn Burke couldn't help but grin as she stared out across the tiny room. When not pantomiming on stage, she made her way onto the floor, offering the mic to fans during "Motorcycle."
Perennial favourites in their hometown, the quartet once again proved themselves to be one of the most idiosyncratic groups in the city, Burke's band mates anchoring her stage antics with sharp stabs of post-punk funk.
But the evening's stars both in name and function were Dilly Dally. Although Katie Monks and Liz Ball's band has existed in various forms for half-a-dozen years, the addition of bass player Jimmy Tony and drummer Benjamin Reinhartz has catapulted the group to local star status. And, buoyed by the release of their long-in-the-works debut, the group delivered a tight set of seething of rock ragers.
Leading the charge was singer-guitarist Katie Monks, the faded pink tips of her hair juxtaposing the space's white stage and walls as she howled into the microphone. Monks' control over her voice, particularly while yelling, is shocking and seemingly effortless; screams that would wind most singers barely registered on her, or her band mates, who no doubt long ago became accustomed to her rich caterwauls.
Fittingly, tracks from Sore made up the majority of the set — "Ballin Chain" and "Purple Rage" were early highlights, as was a nod to Monks oft-cited pop fetishism via a cover of Drake's "Know Yourself," which imbued Drizzy's moody paean to his hometown with a sense of rage.
But the evening's highlight was also sadly its end: the band dug deep for "Next Gold" and "Desire," elevating the two singles to new heights before ending the short, encoreless set and leaving the 75 or so people in attendance satisfied.