Oh Say Can You (O)cie: Heartfelt Folk from the Great White North

It’s been a scorcher of a week — hot and oppressively humid like you expect once the dog days arrive (mine is snoring loudly at my feet having already exhausted himself after running around for 10 min in the 85 degree heat at 7am) — so wanted to drop in with something cool and lovely to balance things out. (Not a Bellini — you can/should make those on your own. I’ll wait…) This one comes in the form of a couple of Canadians — both in the sense that there are two of them (Jon Middleton and Sierra Lundy) and that they are a romantic item to boot.

This latter detail is worth mentioning not because it’s any of our business (though I wish them all the best), but because of the intimate, almost confessional, sense they give the songs and the incredible way their two voices meld when singing harmonies — something that would be hard for mere strangers to pull off. They perform as Ocie Elliott — the moniker’s front half a product of translating Middleton’s name to its 1920s equivalent, the latter a nod to one of their (and my absolute) faves, the late, great Elliott Smith. That last bit is instructive as the duo channel Elliott’s quieter, earlier fare when it was just him and an acoustic guitar, flaying you with his emotional lyrics and beautiful melodies while he sang scarcely above a whisper. Middleton and Lundy don’t display any of Elliott’s darker, angrier aspects — their songs tend to focus more on the positive, encouraging aspects of love and relationships thus far — but the melodies and harmonies are as warm and inviting as his so often were.

The pair have released a bunch of material the past few years — depending on how you catalog these things, they’ve released 5 or 6 EPs or a couple short albums with a handful of equally long EPs in between — but regardless of how you count what matters is there are a TON of good songs in here.  (They’re nominated for the “breakthrough artist/group” award at this year’s Junos.) From “I Got You, Honey” and “Raincoat” off 2018’s EP to “Run to You” and “Stay, Love” off 2019’s We Fall In or “Thinking About You” and “Anymore of Anything” from 2020’s In That Room, the two are relatively prolific. (There’s roughly 40 songs scattered across those “albums”/EPs, best I can tell.) During the pandemic the two were releasing a new song or two every couple of weeks, leaning into the lockdowns to continue turning out really pretty music. I’m excited to see what they come up with next — in the meantime indulge in the opening track from that debut EP (a perfect little five song gem in its own right), the downright delicious “Down by the Water.”

We’ll take a turn towards slightly darker territory now, as I watched the new three-part documentary that just showed up on Netflix, Trainwreck: Woodstock ’99. I’ve written about my experience there before and think on par this one does a slightly better job than the HBO doc on the festival — for one they’ve got interviews with the concert’s primary organizers, Michael Lang and John Scher, as well as a slew of workers and MTV personalities who were there, providing key context (and contrast) to the former pair’s (still) glossier recollections of things.  It also does a better job attributing blame for why things went down the way they did — it wasn’t primarily (or solely) the predestined result of pent-up racism and misogyny as the HBO doc frequently implies, but rather what every person who was there at the time immediately assumed: greed.

Sure, bad planning, failed services, and an almost willful ignoring of problems once they arose contributed to things getting out of hand (as well as some of the issues that come with having such a brotastic base of concertgoers), but those all stem from the central decision shown here that This Will Make a Profit (and an impressive one at that). That led to corners being cut across each of the eventual problem areas — food and water pricing and availability, trash pickup and restroom services, security and emergency responses, etc etc etc. Each of these failed in painful and spectacular ways over the three days, reinforcing and impacting each other like a flaming house of cards, but would never have been as bad if such a priority wasn’t placed on making fistfuls of cash above all else.

The film hits a lot of the key memories I have from that weekend and wrote about before — the oppressive heat, the endless miles of concrete, and the inability to escape the sun. The unfathomable filth and grime, the lack of water, and the skyrocketing prices for anything that might fill you up or cool you down. The oceans of bros and painted breasts as far as the eye could see, the undulating waves of both during blistering sets by Korn and Limp Bizkit, and the growing amount of destruction and mayhem that cropped up in their wake. What it misses in its laudable deconstruction of what went wrong is another element that remains notable all these years later, the thing that drove people there in the first place — the music.

In spite of all the terrible things that happened that weekend, the lineup was/is pretty darn good and there were some fantastic performances from the artists over the three days. The doc covers a number of them, but leaves out some key ones — DMX’s blistering set, the Chemical Brothers at the peak of their powers, Rage and Metallica’s thunderous (and almost equally volatile, especially for the former) continuation of Bizkit’s hard rock Saturday. (I’ve still never seen anything like the response during the Korn/Bizkit sets — truly unforgettable, whether you like the music or not.)

Having more of a focus on the music that was occurring in the midst of all the chaos would actually have provided a better account of the push-pull dynamic that eventually sent things spiraling out of control. (Like the wobbling sound tower shown here that was slowly rocked back and forth before finally toppling over.)  You’d see an amazing performance or two, but then be confronted by one of the many aforementioned ills — lines, walks, prices, trash, etc — which would rev people up and piss them off. But then you’d see another amazing set or two and calm back down. As soon as that was done though you’d be confronted by those ills again and get revved right back up. Over and over again for three days straight in 100 degree heat. It was this endless cycle of up and down, up and down that eventually sent things over the edge as each of the aforementioned problem areas continued to fray alongside, but to gloss over some of that music diminishes some of the impact.

All told, though, the filmmakers do a good job and hit the majority of the thoughts/points I have as someone who was there, so would say it’s worth the watch. (My skin started crawling midway through the first episode and it took a couple hours to calm down after the series was over, so clearly still have some subconscious PTSD 20+ years later.) That Chemicals set kept popping into my head as I was watching, so figured it was worth digging up — even the security guards were getting into it!  Give it a ride (and get into it yourself) below:


We’ll close with some quick hitters to round out the weekend — first up are a couple of quick reads, the first a retrospective of the Rolling Stones’ albums in celebration of their 60th anniversary, courtesy of the AV Club. They do a good job running through the band’s voluminous catalog and while I may quibble with some of the ordering at the top (Sticky Fingers and Some Girls would be higher in my list) I think they get it mostly right. (And most important for lists such as these, it gives you a reason to go back to these albums to enjoy the abundance of great songs and come up with your own argument for how you’d rank them!)

Speaking of bands with abundant catalogs, this article from FLOOD has beloved GBV frontman Robert Pollard picking ten of his favorite songs from the band’s recent relentless hot streak. (Their latest, Tremblers and Goggles by Rank, will likely show up here in a few months…) Similar to the Stones list, I think it does a good job hitting a bunch of the highlights (and honestly, who am I to disagree with Doctor Bob — he wrote the damned songs!), so for those of you who for whatever reason haven’t listened to any of the songs I’ve posted here over the years (or read any of the writeups) listen to the doctor and give them a spin. (And while I mostly agree, I think songs like “Goodbye Note” and “Kid on a Ladder” are better options from albums he named, while “Space Gun” and “Tenth Century” are solid tracks from ones he left out — just in case you need MORE reasons to love this band!)

Last up comes a solid set from the legendary Belgian brothers who perform as Soulwax — aka 2 Many DJs. I caught part of their set under the latter banner last weekend at the Low Festival in Spain and that got me diving down the rabbit hole of their other live sets, as I couldn’t find that one to post for you all. (Low blow, Low…) This one’s a solid stand-in, though, as it showcases the brothers’ effortless ability to weave together classic tunes from all over the music map and create an irresistible groove. This one’s got the Bee Gees, Jungle, Lil Wayne, Felix da Housecat, Fontaines DC, and Tame Impala (to name just a few) and is a total smoker. Had a little dance party at the house multiple times during the week while it was on, so hopefully it brings a little boogie to your borough, too. Check it out below (and go see these two if you can — they rarely tour, so it’s worth the effort to travel if they’re nearby — I promise…)

That’s all for now — until next time, amici… –BS