Montreal's Mile-End, where I live, is full of Hasidic Jews who wander the streets at all hours of the day and night, always (always!) striding -- determinedly en route to some important affair. The boys are always dressed like men, serious in their long black coats, wide black hats, peyes dangling at either side of their faces.
Today, however, is Purim. The Jewish Halloween, when one dresses up, gets drunk, eats jam-filled treats. Consequently, the kids - well, suddenly, they're kids! Little people in tiger costumes, fat king disguises, fireman helmets and the tartan skirts of Scottish dancers. As the sun sets and long shadows fall across the face-painted children, it feels like a Tom Waits song made real: klezmer meets carnival; strange kids who speak in guttural, gibberish german.
At home, I listen to the St. Thomas' I'm Coming Home, touted by Magnet as the next Norwegian thing to look out for (after the Kings of Convenience and Royskopp). He plays alt.country that's not dissimilar to Josh Rouse or Will Oldham Don't get me wrong, though - it's terrible. The opener - it's called, yes, "The Cool Song" - sounds like the Swedish Chef after a three week course on English, stoned on valium and shrill with helium. "I've never seen a cowboy before / never told a story so sore / hey baby take a look at me / i tink [sic] i'm ready for de kickdown / i can never give you in / have you ever seen my chin / an umbreller is dancing on the corner / now everyting is beyond her." You can't make this stuff up. It reminds me quite a lot of the sad horrors unleashed by Siggi Armann, who opened for Sigur Ros on tour last year. He was the worst big lug with a guitar I had ever heard... With pained, closed eyes, he crooned that "Even big boys cry / when their friends die."
Oh... doing a google search, I find that Pitchfork said this of "The Cool Song":
"The Cool Song", has a catchy, campfire appeal that, combined with its urgent, compact melody, impels sympathetic foot-stomping, a background of curious percussion, fiddles and a drum circle on "Bookstore" are pure essense-of-Oldham.
Right.