Bonita Mundo: O My Heart

Lee’s Palace is packed to the tits. The air is charged on a Friday night, as hip kid’s crowd the floor, beers in hand as red lights reflect off their scarves and sneakers. The rooster himself, Ryan Guldemond has landed on the stage decked with his signature cock-a-doodle flare and is belting out, “O My heart it’s a fish out of water.”

The Vancouver based indie rock band, Mother Mother, has arrived in Toronto and their theatrical, jazzy aura is quite impossible to ignore. The quintet has certainly made an impression on the Canadian music scene since launching their debut CD “Touch Up”, in 2005.

The eclectic style of their first album, which mixed jazz, folk and rock was dramatic and not widely recognized in the industry. “O My Heart”, their follow up creation, is getting some marvellous attention from critics who have praised the queen-worthy lyrics and focussed sound of rock and dance-club pop. Tonight everyone is absorbing it into their bloodstream, lovin’ every minute of the passionate, raw sound.

Debra-Jean and Molly are squaring off, a crazy look gleaming in their eyes, as the sinister and catchy tune, “Hay Loft” starts up.

“My daddy's got a gun, my daddy's got a gun, my daddy's got a gun, you better run.”

The girls stand opposite each other, wide in stance, voices crashing against each other, as Debra-Jean brandishes a flexed finger of warning. The effect is instantaneous. Heads bob and bodies start moving to the eerie, repetitive beat, as Ryan jumps in with his commanding pipes.

“It started with the hayloft a - creakin'well it just started in the hay – LOFT!

With his long johns on, Pop went a-creeping, out to the barn, up to the hay.”

The trio sounds related, with high in sync, wailing melodic voices, complimenting each other like three ascending notes on the keyboard. Ryan and Molly are siblings, with identically pronounced cheek bones, but Molly has more of a serene look; eyes closed ethereally or opened wide and fright-like as her fingers manipulate the keyboard.

The signature classic, “Touch up”, hits a chord, as a frenzy of movement erupts on the dance floor, and those leaning on the railings diagonal the stage automatically move their lips.

“Mascara all up in my eyes, chemical hair dyes and highlights. Higher than my lights, higher than highlights. My makeup, it has washed off. I need a touch up.”

With an unnerving look of possession, Debra-Jean looks like she’s in a crazed vocal trance, eyes focussed straight ahead, head rocking from side-to-side, her hair pulled back at the sides with short bangs.

Later, the slow, hypnotic twang of the guitar leads us to “Ghosting”, as Ryan, in his button up shirt and beige pants eases the vocals to a soft, low pace.

“I've been ghosting, I've been ghosting along. Ghost in your house,ghost in your arms.”

Molly lifts her voice harmoniously in the background, situated at her small keyboard, in a red dress with a defined black V-neck and a creampuff gathering of red material around her legs.

The night has mostly been a showcase for their loud, glam rock songs, like “Verbatim” with a thumping beat that induces sexual fantasies about men who wear “women’s underwear.” And who know that what a woman (and loudly echoing crowd) loves most is, “A man who can slap but can also stroke.”

Once the show has climaxed, the audience claps and hollers itself into hysterics until Ryan’s blonde Elvis-styled do graciously returns to the stage. With a humbled, cool demeanour he offers us a little more.

But this time Debra-Jean is in the spotlight, for her imploring, twisted lover’s ballad, “Love and Truth,” which is truly an incomparable experience live.

“Love and Truth
Why are they so hard to achieve,
Love and truth
They're such hot commodities
But come in such small quantities.”

The raw force of her voice causes goose bumps to break out, as Ryan’s nimble guitar notes blast along in a Santana-esque style.

“If everything was up to me I'd make sure that there was plenty of love and truth
Love and truth where are you?”

At this point all hell breaks loose. Debra-Jean unleashes a torrent of pent up sound, careening in time with the pounding fast paced rhythm of the beats and quirky guitar notes. Her body vibrates, mouth open in a long emotional release. It ends in a passionate flourish and turmoil of drums.

This dynamic sound will invade your mind and haunt you for days. With original, addictive lyrics and clever meshing of genres, Mother Mother will be the type of poltergeist you’d love to stick around.