"I can tell this is a cool, very special venue," Karly Hartzman told the crowd at Toronto's Horseshoe Tavern on Friday night, having just torn through pummelling renditions of "Hot Rotten Grass Smell" and Twin Plague's highlight "Cody's Only." "You guys are cool too," piped guitarist Jake Lenderman from behind a mop of shaggy curls.
In reality, the audience wasn't all that cool; they were too excited and engaged to play chill. Fists and half-empty beers shot up from the crowd periodically, bodies thrashed and bounced in frenetic unison and a crowd sing-along erupted during the final verse of "Quarry" — "Somebody called the cops on Mandy and her boyfriend / When they busted in they found that her house was a front for a mob thing" — Wednesday brought a level of small-s (for now) superstardom to the sold-out bar, a confirmation that all this hype might just be the real thing.
This was the five-piece's ninth week on tour in support of their breakthrough fifth album Rat Saw God, and Hartzman said she'd hit a serious wall prior to the night's show — every daughter of God has a little bad luck sometimes, after all — but luckily a heaping dose of fiber helped. "I'm just glad you guys are here tonight, I feel much better…I expelled something evil," she explained to cheers and laughter. "My bandmates are like my brothers in arms, this tour is a war, and what I did in the bathroom was a battle."
Those brothers in arms — Hartzman, Lenderman, bassist Ethan Baechtold, drummer Alan Miller and pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis — sounded unburdened and absolutely massive, translating Rat Saw God's churning mass of sound near-flawlessly, and managing to maintain a sense of dynamic variability that included the sloping balladry of "Formula One," the unending momentum of "Turkey Vultures" and even a sludgy cover of Gary Stewart's "She's Actin' Single (I'm Drinkin' Doubles)."
The mosh pits that erupted during "Turkey Vultures" and "Quarry" were the only slight bumps in the night, with Hartzman repeatedly reminding the thrashing bodies at the foot of the stage to employ the bounce method — "don't push forward! Up and down please" — while they lost their collective shit. A short, good-natured PSA on mosh safety followed as Hartzman reminded everyone to take care of one another in the pit; it was a bit of foreshadowing to the songwriter's pre-closer reflection on what it means to be a band from the American South in the time of violent transphobia and hate-fueled legislation.
"We love being from America and we love being from the south," Hartzman said. "But as someone from the south with a microphone, it's nice 'cause you can say 'fuck that shit and those people. And hopefully you can change someone's perspective on people from the south."
It was an appropriately rallying introduction to "Bull Believer," which ended the show in a fireworks display of punishing guitar and throat-shredding screams, as Hartzman wailed into the microphone with a fire-starting abandon. And just when they seemed at risk of collapsing the Horsehoe's nearly 80-year old roof in a tornado of righteous fury the sound cut out, Hartzman whispered a gentle "thank you," and it was over.
In reality, the audience wasn't all that cool; they were too excited and engaged to play chill. Fists and half-empty beers shot up from the crowd periodically, bodies thrashed and bounced in frenetic unison and a crowd sing-along erupted during the final verse of "Quarry" — "Somebody called the cops on Mandy and her boyfriend / When they busted in they found that her house was a front for a mob thing" — Wednesday brought a level of small-s (for now) superstardom to the sold-out bar, a confirmation that all this hype might just be the real thing.
This was the five-piece's ninth week on tour in support of their breakthrough fifth album Rat Saw God, and Hartzman said she'd hit a serious wall prior to the night's show — every daughter of God has a little bad luck sometimes, after all — but luckily a heaping dose of fiber helped. "I'm just glad you guys are here tonight, I feel much better…I expelled something evil," she explained to cheers and laughter. "My bandmates are like my brothers in arms, this tour is a war, and what I did in the bathroom was a battle."
Those brothers in arms — Hartzman, Lenderman, bassist Ethan Baechtold, drummer Alan Miller and pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis — sounded unburdened and absolutely massive, translating Rat Saw God's churning mass of sound near-flawlessly, and managing to maintain a sense of dynamic variability that included the sloping balladry of "Formula One," the unending momentum of "Turkey Vultures" and even a sludgy cover of Gary Stewart's "She's Actin' Single (I'm Drinkin' Doubles)."
The mosh pits that erupted during "Turkey Vultures" and "Quarry" were the only slight bumps in the night, with Hartzman repeatedly reminding the thrashing bodies at the foot of the stage to employ the bounce method — "don't push forward! Up and down please" — while they lost their collective shit. A short, good-natured PSA on mosh safety followed as Hartzman reminded everyone to take care of one another in the pit; it was a bit of foreshadowing to the songwriter's pre-closer reflection on what it means to be a band from the American South in the time of violent transphobia and hate-fueled legislation.
"We love being from America and we love being from the south," Hartzman said. "But as someone from the south with a microphone, it's nice 'cause you can say 'fuck that shit and those people. And hopefully you can change someone's perspective on people from the south."
It was an appropriately rallying introduction to "Bull Believer," which ended the show in a fireworks display of punishing guitar and throat-shredding screams, as Hartzman wailed into the microphone with a fire-starting abandon. And just when they seemed at risk of collapsing the Horsehoe's nearly 80-year old roof in a tornado of righteous fury the sound cut out, Hartzman whispered a gentle "thank you," and it was over.
