How about this much?
The Red Room was alive last night with the sound of tonal death to all open ears and minds. Those responsible: Vancouver “rockers” Tarl. Four ne’er-do-wells flopped around on stage representing their lack of individuality by playing the same four-chord “doodooka! doodooka!” songs that a plethora of bands before them have ground into mindless dust while a poorly blinged up frontman wailed about “tonight” and “alright” to an indifferent crowd.
The worst part of it all? Pre-recorded samples of lead guitar and back-up vocals. Solos would come in seemingly before the guitarists were prepared to play them, and on occasion the guilty one would simply turn around in an attempt to hide that he really had no idea what he was doing. Meanwhile those singing back-up were also obviously unprepared, and came in to the microphone too far behind to match what the vocals actually sounded like. It was like watching a whole band of Ashley Simpson.
My only consolation was to laugh at them, instead of with them, though that quickly faded and I was left with aching cheeks and even more sore ears. At least I was drinking.
The most baffling part of the whole yuppie-fest was that the band actually had a decent following (though you wouldn’t know it by the audience), an album and had shared the stage with such “great acts” as Nickelback and Finger Eleven (chortle). My conclusion is that at least two of the band members have really rich dads who are wasting a lot of money and don’t know it yet.