Review-The Hidden Cameras at La Sala Rosa, Dec 2nd

The force of their live show is propelled by their collective energy. The Hidden Cameras are one of those big bands who seem to have no problem squeezing 9 people into a tour van and then onto a stage and just playing out their parts as though there’s nothing more natural than being a cog in a lovely wheel.

The lead singer performs like a vessel; at first it doesn’t appear as though the sound could be coming out of his mouth. He belts and sustains with intense skill, yet you look at his face and he’s just standing there, playing guitar and shaking his head back and forth along to his vibrato (spot-on), as this throat-y seaside call pours out of his body like a bitter, almost tragic truth that he’s reluctant to share with us.

Every band member has a distinct stage presence, though each can be reduced to “talented, intelligent, relaxed, and awake” for the purposes of brevity. They cover drums, trumpet, violin, guitar, bass, 2 keyboards, glock, and random percussion, and switch instruments occasionally. They know each other’s parts and sing them unconsciously, and look around if someone misses a part or tries something new.

The Hidden Cameras mainly appeal to an audience of gay boys and girls who draw. They have a semi-cult status with their fans who dance and sing and even take part in a choreographed routine for one song. At one point, I was having a blast and “letting loose” in a controlled sidestep sort of way, when I looked around and realized I was essentially at a ceilidh. If I’m not mistaken, at least two of the Hidden Cameras are from Newfoundland, and the driving rhythm and repetitive layering of melody are strongly influenced by this background. The energetic violinist and phlegmatic trumpet player have a precision that must be the result of years of training, as well as a natural musicianship and innate joy in playing.

I also noticed the presence of Laura Barrett on keyboards, who played at Le Cagibi a few weeks back and charmed us with her remarkably skilled kalimba playing and unnervingly contented stage presence. In the Hidden Cameras, she seems to have been placed back among her peoples, as she beams along to a catchy melody line and encourages everyone to dance just by being so pleased with the music she’s a party to.

So the question inevitably arises: Are people from Toronto just happier? If I take my own Torontonian friends as model citizens, it would seem that everyone is a bitter ed banger-inspired dj who feels slightly uncomfortable about the Arts and Crafts scene. But there must be another breed of Toronto-folk who all live together in some giant studio apartment and make the happiest art ever and have house parties where everyone brings a vegan casserole and then spends the night laughing in the kitchen and having an open jam. I’m just glad they exist, even in mythologized form, for me to come back to from time to time and refresh my inner spark. Ok, maybe I’m just being sappy now.

If you’d like, you can watch one of their music videos on their website, and listen to a few tracks from their albums.