Local flavour, local talent
And the blistering answer, you weanies, is: what am I, a strawberry-flavoured-cigarillo-smoking tween?! The day I buy an iPod is the day I eat an iPod.
If it's not coming out of my stereo, it's the music of Toronto's feeble excuse for urbanity that serenades me through my various routines. My half-wit neighbour cursing out her kids for the seventeenth time today, for instance. Or the Super across the alleyway cursing out the bums who've made a jolly old common area of his orderly heap of bed-bug infested mattresses. (I know the mattresses are infested with bed-bugs because the Super spray-painted "BED BUGS" on them--in, what would be big, unmistakable letters, but for the bums' bums planted exactly there, so that they read BE[bum]GS now.) Or the hum and smash and (again) curse and crash of the economy-defying condo that's being built around the corner.
But I'll tell you what I've got in my stereo that's of note, both of them Toronto-ish bands:
The Junior Boys, from Hamilton. Part of the electronic scene here, which is, I gotta admit, pretty wicked.
And Timber Timbre, from Toronto. This is from their last album (Medicinals), which (album) I highly recommend:
--In spite, that is, of the tedious and twee theme of the video. (A better track is "Patron Saint Hunter", but for the life of me, I can't find a version of it anywhere.)
... Of course, there are three trays in my CD player, and the third still holds this album (by non-Canadians), with this still-awesome song.