When I went to my first Moxy Früvous concert in San Francisco in 1998, the sum total of my knowledge about them was: (a) they’re Canadian; (b) they had written an interesting song about the (first) Gulf War; and (c) a couple of my friends liked them. This was not much to go on, and consequently I approached the concert without any expectations at all.
The band consisted of four guys in their late 20s or early 30s, who mingled with the audience in the club before the show as though they were close personal friends with all 400 or so of us. Then, as the music started, I noticed something that hardly ever happens at concerts: I could actually understand all the words. This shouldn’t be remarkable, but you know how it is at concerts. The fashionable idea of a good live mix is to have every channel turned up […]

Original post by Joe Kissell