Compare and Contrast: Suuns, Land of Talk at Lincoln Hall

By Kim Bellware in Arts & Entertainment on Sep 22, 2010 9:45PM

Much like those meals that are saved by a knockout appetizer despite the less-than-exciting entrée, the opening act for a show can pick up the slack for the headlining group, propping up the overall experience that might have otherwise fallen a little flat.

The co-mingling of Montreal-based groups Suuns and headliners Land of Talk Tuesday night at Lincoln Hall was at first confusing, then a little disappointing—but ultimately pretty great when the two powers combined. Suuns (formerly Zeroes), played a tight set of crisp, angular, electro-rock rhythms that were heavier on guitar and more ample in warmth and presence than their album. Dotted by the whispery vocals of singer, Ben Shemie, the band created a musical landscape that was full and interesting without ever sounding as if they were forcing it.

Land of Talk, meanwhile, approached their set entirely different: loose and a little skittish, what seemed effortless for Suuns came off like an occasional struggle for Land of Talk. The amiable singer/guitarist Elizabeth Powell occupied the precarious role as the bands greatest asset and (at times) its weakest link. Powell’s spritely growl—if such a thing can exist—reminded us vocally of Feist at her highest falsetto, or Victoria Bergsman (Concretes, Taken By Trees, Peter Bjorn and John’s “Young Folks”)—romantic, a bit vulnerable and unique in such a way that it can lift or torpedo the emotional impact of each song.

Instrumentally, Land of Talk was just as taught and precise as Suuns, but for good or ill, was navigated by Powell’s rhythm guitar; when it comes to alternate and unlikely tunings, Powell could probably give Joni Mitchell a run for her money. Jangly and just a little a kilter, Powell’s rhythms were always a bit out of step with the rest of the band, but ultimately to good effect. Sadly, the enchantment Land of Talk created with their songs was consistently short-lived when the spell was broken by myriad tech and performance snafus. The downside of Powell’s tuning was that with each change up, several minutes of eerie silence settled over Lincoln Hall with only the uncomfortable shuffles of feet and coughs audible above her quiet plucking. Early in the set, she even called a do-over on a song—though once they got rolling on their second attempt, everyone hit their marks.

It would be hard to pin the unevenness in Land of Talk’s sound squarely on Powell, but the variability in the music was at times jarring—one song started with such a kicking, forceful beat we were sure we were about to get a cover of “My Sharona;” other songs sounded as if they could be the highlighted track from a late ‘90s episode of Dawson’s Creek.

Suuns came in and out during the set to support the Land of Talk (who we suspect tours and records with different players) adding a strong backbone of driving guitars, keys and extra drums. When every single member of both bands converged for a multi-song finale, both bands were at their finest (guys, maybe form a super group, eh?), with Land of Talk’s roughness playing nicely with Suuns' structure. It was an epic jam whose result would have made more sense if it's what had been playing all along.