Fitz & the Tantrums - Danforth (July 6/14)

Holy Child

The leading lady may have been a child but she seemed nothing but holy with her attempts at provocation, primarily expressed through suggestive dancing and deep crouches. It was distracting from the upbeat synthy derivative pop the other three were pumping so at least it gave us something to ingest. If I wasn't mocking so hard I might have even danced a little more!

Max Frost

Now this band deserved their opening spot. They poured out energy, especially their unstoppable drummer, with rather enjoyable music that had a deep groove accentuated by the guitar solos. Max, the leading man from Austin arrived with his band fully assembled with a relaxed demeanour and face that will sell a few records. However it's his voice, with a definite southern sound in speaking, that will push them over the top if anything. They attempted and hit on a Rick James cover that the female synthesizer danced her way through, as with much of the set. Another interesting touch was that for more than one song Max would play the majority on his acoustic before picking up the electric to drop a few mean licks of a solo - now wearing both guitars around his neck! Keep an ear to the ground.

Fitz & the Tantrums

This show was everything that I was looking for - good sound, good tunes, good vibes and dancing! With a nifty heart that lit in innumerable patterns and further programmable spiralling spotlights (that spelled '6' during 6AM) the stage was set for a fun close to a gorgeous weekend in Toronto. (Perhaps only coincidentally exactly one year removed from their TURF performance.) Hell, even the sound in the Danforth - notoriously spotty - cooperated so we could just get down to damn near every song from their breakthrough album More than Just a Dream. They've got a big sound and hence a big band, including a couple pieces of brass and a hype woman to create it. Michael Fitzpatrick, the band's namesake, was cool throughout in a hot room that only heated up as they dropped hits like Out of My League and The Walker. It's sad to admit but Toronto's rep of anti-dance often rings true but on this eve a fair cut of the mixed demographic crowd let loose. Refreshingly the encore cheering didn't seem forced but was a legitimate outpouring of love and desire to be entertained one more time. They did not disappoint with a rocking rendition of Moneygrabber to squeeze the last ounce of sweat out of us.