Wolf Parade

"Not the most graceful way to start a gig" declares Spencer Krug, keyboard and vocalist of Wolf Parade, after barging his way through the crowd and climbing on stage. Guitarist Dan Boeckner unleashes an intentional clamor of noise on a keyboard as he tries to balance himself crawling up to the tiny stage at Cabaret Voltaire. Indeed, there's nothing graceful about tonight's gig, as this ad-hoc 'rock and roll' underground supergroup put together by Krug and Boeckner in 2003 unleash a pummeling set on the sweltering and excitable audience.

Wolf Parade's gig tonight is fervent, hot-blooded and very, very loud. So loud, in fact, that you can spot some of the youngish crowd wincing as they sing along, bouncing up and down to drummer Arlen Thompson's two-step rhythms and gut-rumbling base drum. Krug and Boeckner together are potent and complementary musicians; Krug as a long haired musical shaman-poet concocting heady basslines and melodies on his array of keyboards and pedals; tattooed Boeckner the animator, furiously riffing and singing with passion and bulging veins.

The highlight comes as the drums and guitars fell away, leaving Krug's haunting soundscapes reverberating in the air as he stares intently into the eyes of audience members, speaking of hair-raising mythical abstractions and realities. In between songs, shy smiles and polite Canadian thank yous enforce the honesty of the music and the musicians. The cramped and overheated venue is distracting, and at some points the energy of the band and the audience fall out of sync, but despite this the band keep spirits high and the audience wanting more right up to the end. Fusing the classic Dionysian rock and roll ethic with unconventional and experimental songs, Wolf Parade don't need grace to win the crowd over. This is simply a phenomenal indie performance, without perms or pretense.