Beanfield Theatre was packed early on a Sunday night. Those who showed up early got to witness Verdun’s Rouge Pompier, who seemed to have a fan base in the crowd. I was a little concerned about having a Francophone band opening, but they were energetic, and the crowd really dug it.
While The Tea Party may not have originated in our fair city, this has long been their second home. Their history here is rich and storied; they were last here headlining the CHOM 50th anniversary show.
The band came out with a riff punch to the face with The Writing’s on the Wall. They told the crowd that, after 35 years of performing for Montreal crowds, they were still as loud and energetic as ever.
It’s always impressive to watch Jeff Burrows pound a drum kit. I’m not sure there’s a harder-hitting drummer in rock. He treats the skins like they’ve personally assaulted his sense of morality.
The haunting Bazaar and Psychopomp were next. Jeff Martin’s vocals on the latter fill the room like a thick soup of brooding power. The sound seems to hit you from every corner.
We got our first patented Tea Party medley of the night with the classic Sun Going Down, which doesn’t always make live setlists but is such a fun song live. On this evening, it was spliced in with Come on in My Kitchen from their rare debut EP and Way Way Down.
Another medley was dedicated to the memory of legendary Montreal promoter Donald K. Donald, who gave the band so much support early in their career. It was a trio of covers, starting with Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know, Daniel Lanois’ The Messenger, which may as well be a Tea Party song at this point, and leading into Canada’s favourite sons, The Tragically Hip’s Bobcaygeon.
Martin followed it with a patriotic speech about Canada not being for sale and had some colourful words for a certain orange politician, which drew a huge roar.
Mantra made its way into the set. It was a deep cut I hadn’t heard live since the Interzone Mantras tour some 22 years ago. It was a pleasant surprise for the fans who never miss a show.
I struggle to think of a better guitar sound than Martin gets out of his twelve-string on Heaven Coming Down. The crowd, as always, gave this song the magical singalong treatment. They blended it with an equally crowd-participation-inducing version of U2’s With or Without You.
The festivities ended, as they usually do, with the ubiquitous Sister Awake. This song has a life of its own live: a song in three parts, a beautiful acoustic Middle Eastern groove, an orgy of percussion, and a rock ’n’ roll crescendo for the ages. Before the solo, he taunted, “Hey, Mr. Trump, you want absolute power? This is absolute power, and you can’t have it.”
This band was my first live band about 35 years ago. I’ve seen them more than any other, over 70 times now. I still don’t tire of it. They are one of those bands that blow their recorded material out of the water live. They are meant to be experienced on a stage.
Richard Brunette
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