> S. Ayton is possessed of a powerful voice, hearty and achingly emotional as Jolie Holland's, but with more edge and dramatic flair. As though with an old stage-weary surety, Aytons's fingers and tongue spin out songs and stories, draw, tell, compare, and bear their own brilliant angle, personal fragment of the life we all live together. I met Ayton in Sault Ste Marie June 21st, when they hosted the GSC open mic, followed by a solo set. So impressed. It was a bad day for domestic strife and suffering, but we did our best to host our guests and I think we all had the chance to connect.
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> Tonight was redemptive, and I fly across downtown like some loon chaser, I sing the jazz-hall version of PHX walking two blocks home after work and one beer, I wonder when my memory ceases to remind me, whether the world really will resemble the cold faces of nations' tales and fairy killers, whether it is senility and not schizophrenia we are observing in the public at large.
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> WWW is 666, reads white chalk on a bank wall downtown.
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> Based in Montreal, Ayton's music, handmade tapes and zines, through my lenses and senses, my cobbled (hi)story and memes, seem to suggest an irrepressible urge to express many things, but to impress most of all a feeling or sense with which Ayton has had to live through adulthood, one which doubtless separates and negates so many connections and social supports that we can all take for granted. I don't know if this gets across to those not battling with depression and anxiety, but it bears essaying. Isolation and paranoia are common tropes of literature, yet hardly ways in which one can be expected to function for weeks or months at a time. Do you know what depth of confusion between thought and reality can come of a simple dopamine imbalance, making it impossible to feel joy without also feeling a sense of impending doom. Too soon? Let's try it a few other ways. >
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> I got the best possible review this am of my pseudo-realist narrative blog, from recent business partner who seemed convinced that the posts have been an accurate record of my life these days. Such flattery. But I could only Wish to write on such a pure level. I'm sure Nora knows how it's done. These are (only) stories, I can "only" demonstrate forms and metaphors to describe the shapes an (his/her)story of plurality will take, to suggest the sore spots and the aura of transformation that we might expect whilst chasing truth and understanding in our collections of myths and memories.
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> Ayton says: So I guess this zine is about trying to be honest and trying to get it out...trying to navigate my way through it towards wanting to exist again and learning to have feelings...
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> > Tonight was my third shift, third date with a couple of hard-working, food loving dinerntrepeneurs, and the staff beer tasted good. One Peter is in a place where he can be challenged by the work rather than the workplace. The room is clearly a time machine, oldies and booths, the clientele is varied and feedback is good. I linger a little long at Queen and Yonge and the locals hustle snokes, convo, d'yekno wherikan getta liddle piff? Yo, DT is dry, man! Quiet night, though, lovely, really. But how can I explain? I tell the kids to zip up their backpacks. Don't lose nothin'. I have been singing all night, there are so many songs I know and enjoy singing. I like to imagine Ayton knows how I feel. Oh, I think Lex is coming out tonight! Golly, I've seen David Bowie in my dreams, and met Johnny De Courcey, but I ain't never seen a Warhol close up. What bone structure, dazzling eyes, deathly pallor and hush! Crush, feast yourselves upon the springs of youth, their strokes and looping shapes. Lilts, laments, the sound of suffering and pride. Human survival through diversity. In which case those who are cornered and denied, disconnected and discredited do gain the upper hand, to the extent that their stories are still told in the face of enormous pressures, despite the disorienting display of narrow norms and psychotic denial. Big talk, ubering back to Bathurst, trying to hear top 40 and I want my window up. It's coming, again. Scarf season. Put some time into something new and see how it feels.
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> > S. Ayton is playing at the Holy Oak this Friday, August 26th with Badlands, James Irwin and Apeyo. My tales of the Holy Oak include seeing the Sea Hags for the first time, and when I tried to match dirty rhymes with Uggy in the cypher.
Early show!!! 8-10pm
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