Kevin Drew Is Not Broken

This week along with headliners Belle & Sebastian, Kevin Drew was slated to play Civic Space Park welcomed by much anticipation due to the unique outdoor venue. As a result of potentially ruinous conditions in the forecast, concert promoters Stateside Presents moved the outdoor musical fête to the nearby Orpheum Theater. It’s a shame to postpone what could have been a magical evening spent under the giant mesh funnel, imperious over the modern landscape. Sidebar: The art installation is titled “Her Secret Is Patience.” Trust that the irony is not lost on me.

Drew plays front man to the oft-evolving roster of Canadian hipster darlings, Broken Social Scene. A short tally of rotating members include indie favorites Leslie Feist (Feist), Amy Millan (Stars), and Emily Haines (Metric). One of the joys of Broken Social Scene’s live shows is that guest appearances are never out of the question, and you will often find a large handful of members on stage utilizing a multitude of instruments. Not to mention Drew, along with BSS members Brendan Canning and Charles Spearin, form the small passion project known as KC Accidental, allowing for rare track performances. There is never a dull moment for these guys.

In 2011, Broken Social Scene declared an indefinite hiatus. However, in 2014 the band made a pithy return to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of its record label, Arts and Crafts. It was during this hiatus that Drew put in work on his second solo effort, “Darlings” which was released in March of this year. His first go in 2007, “Broken Social Scene Presents: Kevin Drew’s Spirit If…” came off as, seemingly appropriate, more of a Broken Social Scene record with Drew’s name in lights. This time around, while I don’t feel it’s a complete departure from the band’s familiar sound, Drew definitely emanates on his own.

A prime trait of Drew’s material is his melodic, velvety voice and dense lyrics. On stage, he demonstrates his capacity to select pieces from a variety of studio albums, both collaborative and solo. Combined, this boasts his achievements and smacks of a versatile artist.

 

 

Extra, Extra! Get ya’ paper here!

I recently became the new music columnist for Arizona State University’s State Press Magazine. Last week, I submitted my first two pitches to somewhat little personal fanfare. This is not to imply any lack of thrill, but more so to emphasize a smidge of trepidation on my part. See, I’ve written journals before; absent-mindedly jotted down ideas on paper that no one has laid eyes on. Until last week I had not offered my writing, personal opinion pieces anyways, to anyone. My words have now become public by means of the State Press Magazine and, in a roundabout way, shared through social media.

This minuscule blip on the map, my seemingly paltry attempt, managed to frazzle my nerves. I almost couldn’t believe it. My first official column was set as an introduction, to be used as a vehicle to share what I think about music. In my mind, I was doing cartwheels compiling thoughts I wanted to touch on. “Finally! I get to start writing for an audience!” Then I sat down and really started to assemble my ideas of what music means to me. Huh? Whoa. Timeout. How am I supposed to disclose my inner feelings on a topic that is not only broad, but near and dear to my heart, while serving it justice?

This is when that whole feeling of trepidation began.

Even still, I wanted to introduce myself to my new (and, optimistically, viable) audience and fully delve into the subject. I wrote, and I wrote and I re-wrote. The words seemed to pass from my fingers to my laptop with ease. But, as any writer knows, your first draft is not your final draft; I made minor tweaks, additions and modified verbiage. A couple of drafts in, I hit submit.

On October 1, my editor posted my first official column. I opened the link, and there it was in all its amateur glory.

I made the cognizant decision to link my column on my Facebook page, for my 400+ friends to see. I didn’t know what to expect. But here’s the thing…I threw fear out the window. Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. This minuscule blip on the map, my seemingly paltry attempt, is so much more. It is the outset of something amazing. This new gig of mine will send me down a path, for better or worse, and spawn a litany of opportunities, failures and promise. Whatever it entails, it’s my path to travel. I’m only beginning to scratch the surface, and to consider my column a pivoting point doesn’t quite compensate enough.