PREMIERE: Ace of Wands “Float The Flood”

Ace of Wands lead singer Lee Rose

Ace of Wands lead singer Lee Rose

On the minor arcana tarot card from which the Toronto-based band Ace of Wands take their name, a hand reaches out from a cloud to present a flowering branch, signifying inspiration, power, creation, beginnings, and potential. It is with this offering in mind that Lee Rose, the woman behind both the music and the visual storytelling that accompanies it, prepares to release her debut EP 10,000 Feet this Friday. Amplified and enriched by her bandmates, Anna Mernieks (of Beams) on guitar and backing vocals and Jody Brumell (of SHANKS) on drums, the songs on the EP feel more like epiphanies or spells, capable of conjuring expansive visions.

Their newest track, “Float The Flood,” follows the cinematic flair of the band’s previous releases; in Ace of Wands’ music, nature becomes a main character, helping to create a physical space for their ominous, multi-layered sound. In their music videos, forests are seemingly without end, lakes never hit a horizon, and the sky looms above, eternal. Rose has provided art direction for each of these clips, cementing a potent image and creating a thematic through-line to the work. With its jangling guitar and harmonic incantations, “Float the Flood” documents the twisting turmoil of exorcising inner demons.

We spoke with Lee Rose about growing up in the wilds of Canada, how she approaches art direction for her videos, and where sustainability fits into her ethos as a musician. Listen to “Float The Flood” below.

AF: Tell us a bit about your upbringing in Toronto. What did you grow up listening to?

Lee Rose: I grew up in the neighborhood of Parkdale in Toronto. I would say my dad is my biggest musical influence. He is a musician and had an enormous record collection, so I was constantly surrounded by music. I have strong memories of listening to Nirvana and dancing around as a 3-year old. But we listened to all kinds of music – The Fall, Randy Newman, Neil Young, The Ronnettes, Bonnie Raitt and Tom Petty were all staples. My dad also worked at a drop-in center in the neighborhood called PARC – it was a community space primarily for homeless people and psychiatric survivors needing support, and music was a big part of his time there. I have memories of going to PARC to watch the open stages, and hearing my dad write songs about poverty in the city and the stories of the PARC members he worked with. It was a very formative experience for me.

AF: At what age did you start writing your own music?

LR: I started writing lyrics to songs about six years ago, but I have been writing melodies for as long as I can remember. I started a band with my brother Graeme called Rival Boys when I was 17; he did all the lyric writing and I did the singing. I taught myself how to play bass and made up bass lines. But the lyrical poetry has really just started flowing out of me more recently it feels like. I find lyrics are such a key element to a song and I admire so many other songwriters for their poetry. For a long time I was very self-conscious of what I was writing and didn’t feel safe sharing it. I have gotten more confident as I’ve gotten older I guess.

AF: Ace of Wands’ music has an epic, cinematic feel to it. Have you always been drawn to those kinds of lush, layered sounds?

LR: Absolutely! I am a classically trained violinist, and have spent a lot of time playing in orchestras. I have a love for the huge sounds you can achieve with dozens of players, and it’s been fun to experiment with creating lush sounds (that are similar in intent) with a three-piece band. I love layering effects and vocal harmonies to really transport the listener to whatever world I am writing about

AF: In your videos for “10,000 Feet” and “Grown From Good,” nature is focal point. Are these landscapes in your mind when you’re writing?

LR: Yes, for sure. I have such an affinity for natural landscapes, and while I live in the city I always find another kind of peace in nature. I am a gardener when I’m not playing music, so soil and plants and water are always on my mind. They invariably make it into the songwriting!

AF: How do you scout for locations?

LR: Well, mostly we choose places where we can safely film! But I have spent a lot of time in swimming in Georgian Bay and surrounding areas, so it has made it into both videos so far.

AF: You lead art direction for your videos, as well as construction on the key design pieces (like the recycled fabric train in “Grown From Good”). Is sustainability something you incorporate often into your mixed media artwork?

LR: I try to create as little waste as possible when I make things for the videos. But it’s hard! Everything leaves an environmental footprint it seems… but I do my best to use recycled materials. I’m also really interested in having themes that carry through my projects, so that pieces can be reused and repurposed multiple times. We also have had Ceremonial burnings of props in bonfires… maybe not so good for the ozone but it looks cool and disappears! Ha.

AF: Your new single, “Float the Flood,” is yet another song that for me, drew up intense visuals: images of whales lurking beneath the surface of the ocean, boats on fire. Can you give us some insight on how this song was constructed and what the backstory is?

LR: I was going through a really difficult time in a long term relationship when I wrote the song, and was feeling suffocated by having to express hard emotions. I was starting therapy to help with my depression and for the first time was really seeing all the ways I hate myself. I can be very punishing. I was feeling a lot of guilt and anger and was taking a lot out on my partner. I kept seeing images of myself as a fog, a flood and a mess of endless water and murk. I was trying to express how lost I was in the expanse, and how it was effecting the people I love.

AF: Are you at work on a new video?

LR: Yes we are! We are starting to create art for our next video called “Lioness.” This video will introduce our third band member Jody (drums), and will be part performance video. It will incorporate landscape shots of the fall foliage I hope! I wanted to transition between seasons from video to video as well.

AF: The digital download for “Grown from Good” was printed on paper embedded with wildflower seeds and even came with a glass jar of soil. “Float the Flood” also has a creative twist in terms of its download. What can listeners expect?

LR: “Float the Flood” will be available as a digital download, accompanied by a balsa wood glider plane. I’m really interested in the idea of creating ways for our audience to interact with our music beyond just listening. I want to make merch that turns the music into participatory experience, and the idea of ‘play’ is a central part of that. I wanted to make something that would inspire people to literally go outside play. I have found it harder and harder to get our music to people (and actually have them listen to it!) so in trying to think outside the box I found myself drawn to ideas where the music becomes almost secondary to an experience that could facilitate a listeners own personal creativity.

Ace of Wands release 10,000 Feet EP August 17th. If you’re based in Toronto, don’t miss the band’s show at The Horseshoe Tavern on August 18th.

SHOW REVIEW: Matthew Dear + Light Asylum + Beacon

Watching a Matthew Dear performance is like standing before a work of art from the Italian Renaissance or Greek antiquity. You look at it, beguiled and even frustrated by the possibility that human hands could create something so beautiful. Matthew Dear himself, statuesque and always decked out in an impeccably tailored black suit even when he sleeps, I imagine, has been perfecting this aesthetic, now indistinguishable from the music itself, for over a decade. Going to his show indeed engenders that fleeting and indelible longing you feel when you’re in a museum looking at one of your favorite paintings: a longing to engage with something physically and emotionally unreachable even if by mere inches.

The tension of knowing he’s a real person who leads a real life with real things in it, and experiencing him as something so intangible and deliberately cultivated, is gripping. It keeps him shrouded in mystery, and keeps his magnetism as sharp and strong as ever; and it is precisely this tension that made his show last weekend at Webster Hall remarkable.

The stage  looked beautiful. Bouquets of white roses embellished every mic stand. Massive banners in the style of abstract expressionism, of Dears most recent album artwork (created by Ghostly’s resident graphic designer, Michael Cina) hung in the background. Each band member juxtaposed one another dramatically, with two sets of percussion sidling the back, the trumpet player front and center, and the bass player in between him and Dear, who, off to the side, performed the electronics, lead guitar and vocals, conducting it all like a circus master. Everyone wore really pretty outfits. They started playing—new and old songs, all of which are so incredibly good— and the audience gravitated toward them like moths to a flame. It felt par for the course.

Then something extraordinary began to happen about halfway through. Maybe it was when he started to peel Rose petals off his bouquet, letting them fall to the floor with an improvised and unlikely touch. Or maybe it was when he started moving around the stage, dancing wildly, and even occasionally jumping off things. I think the decisive moment came, though, toward the end of the song “Do The Right Thing”. The flood lights were turned on so we could all see one another. Dear approached the audience and for the first time ever in my experience, sang the last verse and chorus directly to us, loudly and insistently, without any effects, tracking, or even much help from the band.  “I was yours for escape”, he mused. He seemed to be addressing us . He seemed to be shedding his stoic affect in favor of human connection and all the ways in which it leaves one vulnerable as hell. For the last moments of the song he came right up to the edge like he was going to jump, defiantly, not singing just looking. People were generally freaking out. The girl to my right was bawling. As it all ended, he turned and retreated back, disappearing into a haze of smoke, and then the whole room went dark.

He’s clearly trying to make us care about him as a person. The question remains though, how this effort will coalesce with his music, long-associated with his personae, and the ways in which he distances himself from his audience when he’s live. On this, the verdict is still out. I think it says something mighty powerful, however, that his performance of “Do The Right Thing” that night was a singularly moving moment for I suspect, everyone in the room.

The supporting bands, Beacon, Light Asylum (and MNDR which I missed), put on amazing shows. Beacon’s performance was one of the best I’ve seen, since I think their big, cavernous sound is suited for big, cavernous places. The reverb actually had space to travel and linger, and the bass was so loud it had everyone’s hair standing up (the conventional wisdom about chicks loving loud bass is true, by the way). They performed most of their old material from No Body, as well as singles, “So Anxious” and “Last Friday Night”.

Now that they are signed, it seems they’ve come into their own. Thomas Mullarney is more confident in his vocal abilities, and therefore more inclined to sing louder. Even this simple act transforms the songs from good to really really good. For their whole set, they commanded the room–which is no simple feat when there are only two people and zero instruments. Those who were wandering aimlessly about were suddenly captivated. By the end of their set, there were three times as many people huddled toward the front of the stage.

I suspect in the not too distant future, they’ll be the headliners for shows like these.

When Light Asylum’s set started, I had no idea what to expect. I had only heard of them in passing. Flitting about on stage, plugging in wires was an incredibly muscular, tank top wearing man who I assumed was the band leader. Soon though, a young woman appeared and set my perceptions straight. Not only does she lead the project,  she dominates. Their names are Shannon Funchess and Bruno Coviello and they make wildly energetic synthpop with electronic foundations. They’ve released one EP, In Tension, and one self-titled debut. The songs are chaotic and strange, yet entirely danceable. In fact you can’t help but dance when you hear them. This is due to the music itself, of course, but also Funchess’s personality on stage, which demands that you ride along with her on her weird journey. She stands behind an electronic drum kit, and sucks you into her world, sometimes singing or making other types of noises with her voice, sometimes dancing like she’s possessed, sometimes flapping like a bird, etc. And it is extraordinary. She has the lung capacity of a lioness, and a totally unique sounding voice, as well as an unending supply of energy. All this combined with Coviello’s catchy synth makes for the type of new-wave -writ modern I wish so many other mediocre bands would create, but can’t because they simply lack the spirit of innovation it takes to do it. Light Asylum, however, has enough to go around.