Jason Collett’s Rat A Tat Tat is, if nothing else, a really good time. Perhaps best known for his involvement with the Canadian indie super-darlings, Broken Social Scene, Collett also provides us with strong, ongoing evidence that he is a formidable solo musician. But that is not to say that Collett is in this thing alone. In fact, Rat A Tat Tat, Collett’s was produced by Carlin Nicholson and Michael O’Brien from the Toronto band Zeus, alongside fellow Arts & Craft musicians Tony Scherr, Liam O’Neil, and Andrew Whiteman from the Montreal outfit, The Stills. This infusion of new blood and old bones pays off with an album that is constructed with equal parts enterprise and enthusiasm. The rhythmic McCartney-esque bass-clacking and the whimsical trade-offs between organ and acoustic guitar in “Love is a Dirty Word” give listeners one of the most delightful pop songs in recent memory. This emphasis on fun-loving yet image-rich complexity continues throughout the somewhat saccharine, but surprisingly palatable tune, “High Summer” – a song which is ripe with ultra-slick guitar scraps and ultra-infectious choruses. Meanwhile, “Bitch City” gives Rat A Tat Tat its most familiar sounding track, perhaps due to apathetic ballad drums and melodic bass work that seems to accompany most Broken Social Scene albums. All told, Collett’s most derivative work hints at an unavoidable overlap between his solo and group work. Despite the overwhelming shadow of Collett’s collective output, Rat A Tat Tat reminds us just how much of a pop powerhouse this Canadian has become, with or without a little help from his friends.

Nothing more than a brief and typical interruption

With a name inspired by the tragically compassionate Platoon sergeant, Elias is a Vancouver-based band with delusions of grandeur and suffering. Consisting of Brian Healy, Ron Tornroos, and Stefan Tavares, Elias's sophomore release, Lasting Distraction, doesn't quite evoke the principles of Sergeant Elias, the power of his death scene, or the potency of Platoon. This album is neither original, nor does it provoke strong emotion. From lyrics about the woes of high school outcasts, to the obligatory plunking of simple piano chords, Elias has moved away from hard-hitting rock to soft-moaning emo. Fortunately, this “distraction” wraps up in less than an hour. This is that brand of music everyone has already heard – and too many times. To cut the boys some slack, the title track has a catchy beat and will certainly be a teenage chart-pleaser. “Bad Ideas” is also a decent track — Healy’s vocals carry the emotion of this song with a polished and varied cadence. For the most part, he has a strong and ambitious voice that is well-suited to the genre, albeit a little whiny for critical consumption. Tornroos and Tavares play with high energy, and are able to create a refined quality to the instrumental accompaniment. Elias is a youthful and conventional band held back by their juvenile and predictable limitations. This band has potential for musical growth, but for now, the only connection they have to Platoon’s Elias might just be an untimely end.

Four years after her self-titled debut, English singer-songwriter Corinne Bailey Rae presents The Sea, an understandably-personal album which follows in the wake of her husband’s accidental overdose. During her two-year period of mourning, Bailey Rae found solace in her creation of cathartic songs, most notably “Are You Here” and “I Would Like to Call It Beauty”, as a way to give shape to her grief. At first, being critical of such an album feels like the insensitive equivalent of pointing out grammatical flaws in a heartfelt eulogy. But in many ways, listening to the calm surfaces of The Sea feels more like eavesdropping on a secret diary or a personal mantra. Bailey Rae’s vocals are whisper-sung with a saddened intensity that washes over its listeners, and reminds us of the tides that dictate her emotions. Her grief becomes our grief, and her tender reassurances reflect our own loses and longings. Despite predominantly heavy themes, this album is not completely submerged in the undertow of loss. “Feels Like the First Time” and “Paris Night/New York Mornings” are upbeat, jazzy, and smooth. While “The Blackest Lily” plays as classic, funky soul, it doesn’t seem like Bailey Rae’s heart is fully into it. The fact that she has attempted to round out this album with a couple of airy, cheery tracks is admirable. It is like the courageous smile on the face of a friend that let's us know that they are on the mend, but aren't quite ready to talk about it yet.

How did this happen? How did Sebastian Lefebvre go from high-rotation tween-anthem punk-pop to this? Lefebvre, the rhythm guitarist from Simple Plan, the squeaky-clean black nail polish Quebecois poser quintet, attempts a George Harrison, or at least a Dallas Green, with his own bedroom folk EP. However, it feels more like a one-dimensional warm-up rather than an evocative and revealing project. The only things evident on this closet of an EP are the skeletons of passable but aborted Simple Plan songs. Alas, themes range from heroism to escapism to romance and back to escapism without ever saying anything new. Platitudes run rampant (i.e. "Someone told me once/ To stand up and fight/ Forget about the past/ 'Cause you can't go back tonight"), and the instrumentation is stripped to uninteresting bar-chords and rudimentary acoustic strumming, while shakers and hollow percussion create predictable accents. I guess I can add "Subtle Genius" to my list of things Sebastian Lefebvre is not.

Track Listing:

1. Decoller
2. Comatose
3. La Nouvelle Vie
4. Good Night
5. I Fall For You
6. Life Goes On
7. The one

Miriodor is another phenomenally talented group of musicians you have probably never heard of, but who have steadily been gaining momentum from a niche of enthusiasts. Their music is tasteful, ambitious, elegant, and complex. Consisting solely of instrumentation and only one record to their name containing vocals, their albums are jazz journeys through melody and chemistry. Economically overdubbing and keeping the studio tricks to a bare minimum, Miriodor play in typical jam fashion where the act of playing music is a communication based on listening. Having perfected this, the band sounds polished and flawless.

Formed in 1980 in Quebec City by Pascal Globensky and Francois Emond, the band initially began as a sextet. By 1985 however, the group streamlined and relocated to Montreal as a quartet with Sabin Hudon, and Remi LeClerc. With this, their seventh studio album, the band has lost the talents of Hudon and founder Emond and recruited Nicolas Masino and Bernard Falaise. The credentials of the members are impressive: Falaise is a staple in the 'musique actuelle' scene, Masino carries a Ph. D in musicology, and Globensky and LeClerc's talents are 30 years in the making.

It you are not convinced by now, it might be worthwhile to consider other music because Miriodor won't be for you. The seven songs on this album are all longer than six minutes and consist of virtuoso time changes and demanding phrasing which relishes in the anticlimactic. If you were to dance to this it would be from your toes and the tips of your fingers, alternating the lean of your head for comfort. This is to music what William Morris was to wallpaper: progressively decorative.

Still, William Morris is unique and invaluable and so are Miriodor. The real treat with this band will be to see them live. This plastic disc is not so much an album as it is a reminder of how important it is to see explosive musical chemistry organize before your eyes and ears.

Track Listing:

1. envoutement :: bewitchment
2. bolide debile :: dare devil
3. la roche :: meeting point
4. ecart-type :: standard deviation
5. a determiner :: to be determined
6. avanti! :: avanti!
7. reveille matin :: shadow of the alarm clock

Released at the end of October, the name Sainthood is taken from the title track of the Quin Sisters’ sixth full-length album. This recording also marks an important first for Tegan and Sara, as it’s the first time that the duo has ever written together. As sisters, they’ve always been rivals, but with this album they’ve forced themselves to sit in a room and write. The results are, to say the least, mixed.

Tegan and Sara have always had a knack for exploring various arrangements and instrumentation in their music, and this album is no exception. For example, one song called “Alligator” does not feature any guitars at all. But if you are already a fan of this sister act, you should know that this album is fairly different from its predecessors.

Sainthood is much heavier and quicker, while their other five released were more on the soft and melodic side. I found these lyrics to be far less hook-rich, and yet not nearly as relaxing as the others. In other words, this album is more likely to make you want to get up and dance rather than bum out and hum along. Though admittedly, I did find myself humming once or twice. If you’re a fan, Sainthood is worth checking out, if for no other reason than to see a slightly different side of this newly collaborative duo.

Track Listing:

1. Arrow
2. Don’t Rush
3. Hell
4. On Directing
5. Red Belt
6. The Cure
7. Northshore
8. Night Watch
9. Alligator
10. Paperback Head
11. Sentimental Tune
12. Someday