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Day two, part two (finally) 

Back to Friday night. When last I wrote, I was attempting to race down to Stage Nine to catch Special Noise. I didn’t make it. My first “miss” of the weekend. I tried to console myself by telling myself that I could catch them another time. It’s only half-true. Yes, I can catch them another time, but it won’t be the same. There’s almost always something special about a Halifax Pop Explosion performance from a local act, and I’m sorry I missed this one.

(But not sorry enough to miss the end of the Ted Leo set at the Pavilion, what with the crazy final song. North of America joined them on stage with tambourines and a second drum set and then the kids jumped on stage, too, dancing and hanging from the rafters. Such sweet pandemonium.)

Gilbert Switzer were as insane as I’d heard. Troy leaped/fell from the stage early in the performance, and the zaniness continued from there. I especially liked when Megan, the sexiest thing to ever wear gigantic hoop earrings, was on bass and Derrick played drums. He played drums like he was proudly leading a parade. A parade in honour of Crazy. My favourite things about this band: the energy they all exude and the clever song titles (“Freudian Slap”).

I headed outside for some fresh air and food, then hung out in front of the Khyber, where I ran into Peter Rowan for the second time. It was great reminiscing about festivals past with him, but what made me happier was how we spent more time talking about the cool stuff we’d seen and heard at THIS festival.

I hemmed and hawed between sticking around the Khyber to see Dog Day and going back to Stage Nine to see World Provider. I’d seen Dog Day once before, a long time ago, and thought they were good, but not my cup of tea. I’ve since changed my mind on the group; that darn CD has grown on me. Peter chose Dog Day, and I went up to see World Provider, figuring I could always catch the local act another time.

I got to Stage Nine in time for the last song, and was sort of confused. He was wearing a red and white jumpsuit ensemble and it didn’t seem like the crowd was really into it. I’m going to have to ask around to figure out what happened...or maybe what went wrong.

I planned on sticking around to see Japanther, but it was just taking too long for them to hit the stage and I had to meet Christopher Rees, whom I was billeting that night (he’d already napped and had tea at my place all afternoon), at Hawksley Workman’s show up at The Marquee. Caught about half an hour of Hawksley’s set as Christopher enjoyed a few beverages; the consensus with the group I was hanging with was “WHY WON’T HE ROCK??” He was good, mind you, but just, I don’t know...subdued? I think someone said if you’re going to release an overproduced album, you can’t put on an underproduced performance.

(Hey, I didn’t say it, so please lay off, Hawksley fans. He was good, just not "Oh man, that was so GREAT!" good.)

Christopher and I then caught a cab home and crashed hard once heads hit respective pillows.

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