The Nonsuch
Calgary, Alberta, Canada | MAJOR
Music
Press
This Canadian band whose median age is 19 years old, write and play way beyond their years. Produced by Dale Penner, this theatrical tune is reminiscent of some of the best of McCartney’s Tin Pan Alley material. There are also shades of Queen and even a bit of Broadway. Brendan Cade’s vocals sound a bit like a young Billy Joel yet he has his own voice. This band creates tunes with complex arrangements that shock and surprise and take the listener on a journey that seems over too soon. - UrLabel.net
Speeders may not like signs that read Maximum 60, but local music fans don't have anything to fear.
The teenaged quintet kicks their seven-song debut off with the carnivalesque Funnest Way to Play, complete with fanfare that marks the arrival of the new band. It's an apt beginning since vocalist Brendan Cade sounds like a cross between a sideshow barker and Dennis DeYoung.
The five members of Max 60 aren't yet 20, but they already have a keen sense of melody and their seven-song debut is a mature effort rooted in classic rock and pop, helped by the production wizardry of Chris Burke-Gaffney. Colour builds and swells to a rousing chorus and serves as the album's highlight. Instant Viewer is filled with punky staccato guitars. Lost in the Stars shows off some horn-drenched funk.
It will be interesting to see how they grow as songwriters and musicians as time goes on and they hit the highway, where the speed limit is increased.
-- RW
Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition July 4, 2009 C4
<http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/entertainment/music/local-49922797.html> - Winnipeg Free Press
Discography
Tabula Rasa (EP) / 2012 / Pipe & Hat
Photos
Bio
Cosmic rock: two words that, when on their own, have such static meanings, but when put together yield something that is both strange and amazing. Its a term that might have been suited for the great David Bowie (should labels ever have caught up to him) or to Styx, had Kilroy been a bit less Japanese and a little more Martian. Its a goofy, almost laughable term that conjures up images of a scantily clad woman at the peak of a mountain, pointing an immense firearm towards a starlit sky (with two exotic tigers laying at her feet for good measure). But those images have a certain air of nostalgia to them, holding on to the piece of your heart tucked snugly between Geddy Lees soul patch and that dusty, authentic Freddie Mercury leopard print unitard hanging in your closet.
Cosmic rock: its the only genre that could ever hope to define the band called The Nonsuch.
Five technically proficient musicians Jordan Waters (vocals), Tyler Wagar (keys, guitar, vocals), Lyle MacKenzie (guitar), Alex Riel (bass) and Jordan Froese (drums) make up The Nonsuch. Each an expert in their craft, every member brings a level of perfection to their roles that is rarely seen in this era of glorified jam bands and static, one-note suburban indie kids. The intricate rhythms and instantly familiar melodies come effortlessly for this bunch, and their larger-than-life live concert is so grandiose that some reports have claimed that it can cause the deaf to hear and the blind to see. Yes, they are that freaking insane. Think lights, lasers, fog machines and pyrotechnics. Think multi-thousand-seat arenas (that was their second show). Think (pause for effect) epic.
Where do rock Gods come from? Some might say that a regular musician can become one over time, others might argue that theyre simply born that way. Or, maybe it all comes back to the big bang, the beginning of it all. For The Nonsuch, that was their very first live performance. There Jordan Waters stands at the front of the stage, their third song still ringing through the theatre, hundreds of screaming fans crashing against each other, hands stretched forward for a chance to reach out and touch the longhaired frontman, when suddenly, a spotlight cuts through the mist from above and highlights his imposing figure. The room goes silent, if only for a moment, as they hold their breathe waiting for his next words. Everyones eyes widen, their mouths agape, as an immense banner unfurls behind the band, their name emblazoned upon it for all to see. Slowly, the cheering begins once more this congregation has found their new messiah.
Hello, says Waters, his suit in perfect order, we are The Nonsuch. And the crowd goes wild.
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