Akron/family visit il motore

Last Tuesday was a cold spring evening, but that didn’t stop tiny Outremont venue Il Motore from filling up fast for Akron/Family and Torontonians Born Ruffians.
The crowd was a little unsettling to the unacquainted Akron/Family show-goer. It was as if those crusty hacky sac kids from high school snuck into the bar, poncho-clad and quietly defiant. Luckily the ceilings of Il Motore were high enough to allow the mélange of body odors space to settle.
The band began their set in an almost creepy way – barely plucking guitar strings, nudging the bass, and timidly tapping the cymbals. They slowly built up into a crescendo of “feel-good” vibes and homespun freak-folk, like the backing music to a vegan burrito commercial. After a relentless 25 minutes of non-stop music, the drummer walked to the front of the stage to do a spoken-word poetry ditty over dirty-south crunk beats blaring from a sampler. It was interesting and a nice break in the set.
Later, they meandered into a bluesy, classic rock-inspired ramshackle jam, borrowing equally from Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Harry Nilsson. Again, the grooves seemed to go on forever, showcasing their tight rhythm section and intuitive improv. Breaking the monotony once again, a bespectacled hipster-ish dude walked up on stage and grabbed a floor tom to get in on the jam, at first seeming like a random audience member, but later proving to be a worthy touring-collaborator.
Members of the band had three-month beards growing, and on stage behind them was a tie-dyed American flag . . . tie-dyed. Yes. Surprisingly the audience seemed to be unaffected by their hippie doctrine – there wasn’t a hint of pot smoke in the air during the entire set, not even nag champa.
The band seems to do well appropriating Americana, folk and 1970s rock, while bringing the sound into the 21st century, still singing about love and humanity. Neil Young would probably doff his cap to the band, while a band like Architecture in Helsinki would approve of their audience-stirring, clap-along friendliness. On more than one occasion, despite the brutal cheesiness, they raised their arms to show the audience how to clap along to the post-modern hippie-rock. It was a nice gesture, but the sincerity was almost laughable.
The set closed in similar fashion o how it began: they started a slow fade-out, playing softer and softer, the sound attenuating into an eerie silence, followed by an eruption of applause. With their reception, surely they’ll be back to Montreal in the near future, hopefully freshly showered.