Casual Friday: Peach Pit and Hayley Blais Live At The Fonda

On Friday, March 18th, I met up with some friends at The Fonda in Hollywood, CA to see one of our favorite all-time groups: Peach Pit. I was literally buzzing with excitement as we stood in line on Hollywood Boulevard. I was practically jumping up and down when we finally made it inside. I was on the verge of spontaneous combustion by the time open Haley Blais and her band made it to the stage.

She came waltzing onto the stage, full of bravado, wearing big glasses and a full suit and tie with shoulder pads galore… without any pants. In fact, she was wearing a color-coordinated pair of boxer briefs instead. Blais took casual Friday to a whole new level. Each member of the band had their own unique style to add to the vibe. The bassist had a shag mullet, shnazzy button-up, and 80’s-esq cigarette pants. The guitarist was wearing a blue, checked sweater-vest and a black leather skirt. There was everything from business casual, to preppy, to 80’s alt. It was a true reflection of the diversity of indie-culture.

The power that Haley’s presence radiated was compounded by the power of her voice. She would go seamlessly from sweet, soft melodies to full-blown diva-powerhouse belting. She even hit some whistle tones. I can’t even imagine the amount of breath control training it took to hit such insane notes so flawlessly and so sonorously.

Blais’s stage presence also infused a major amount of energy into the audience. By only her second song of the night, she was lying on her back, absolutely shredding on her guitar, kicking along to the beat. She was fully lost in the music, getting us all lost right along with her.

Haley’s set was nonstop energy and musicality. Despite not having known of her music before the show, I had fallen completely in love with her and her work soon after. By the end of her set I was so energized and mesmerized. I was ready for Peach Pit.

Peach Pit, a.k.a. everybody’s favorite Canadians, had been one of my favorite groups for years now. I had been checking off the days on my calendar in the days leading up to the show. I was basically bursting with excitement during that little hiatus between Blais’s and their upcoming set. When the lights finally dimmed, there was a sold minute of hysterical cheers from the audience before the members of the band even stepped foot on the stage. Each and every person was hungry for the show to come.

Suddenly, the lights went up, and the band jumped right in with “Brian’s Movie.” They increased the tempo and the distortion just enough to turn this traditionally chill, kick-back-bop, into a jamming opener. The audience filled with seemingly laid-back indie bros and stoner chicks was stirred up into a frenzy.

Immediately once the song ended, I noticed the bassist, Peter Wilton, drop his bass and run off stage in a panic. Before I could fully lean into my curiosity, however, singer Neil Smith announced to the crowd that Wilton had been “Shitting and throwing up all day cuz of some norovirus.” The audience, being the mature bunch of kids that they were, went up in a roar of laughter. As the laughter subsided, I noticed Wilton hobble back to his spot on stage, his face looking as gaunt as a Tim Burton character. Then after a brief round of applause for Wilton’s resilience, the band jumped right into their famous self-titled track.

Wilton was a true trooper. Sporadically throughout the night, Peter would run off in a panic, disappear for a few minutes, then jump right back into the set. I couldn’t believe it. Usually, when someone in the band gets sick, they’ll throw in a replacement member from the opener or from somewhere else. But Peach Pit refused to play without each other. Wilton refused to let his horrific virus keep him down. Even during Wilton’s awkward pauses, the rest of the band kept the show going. During each break, they would turn to the audience and do a brief Q&A. They even told a few jokes and old anecdotes from their days growing up in Vancouver. Seeing the bands resilience and dedication towards eachother and the music they made together alongside their engagement with their fans made this 1,200 seat theatre feel like a small club. There was a sense of intimacy and community that comes with such vulnerability.

Despite everything, Peach Pit performed a flawless show. I was completely mesmerized by the guitar skills of frontman Chris Vanderkooy. This gangly dude who bares a remarkable resemblance to the Bowler Hat guy from Meet The Robinsons (but in a cool, indie-rock, granola-guy kind of way) could absolutely shred. He played each solo with extreme precision and gut-wrenching expression. He put his full heart and soul into each riff, adding infinite depth to the power and personality of the music.

By the end of the night, I’m not gonna lie, I got a bit teary-eyed. One of my all-time favorite songs by Peach Pit was their hit track “Shampoo Bottles,” a poignant break-up song about the difficulty of letting go. As Smith sweetly sang the melody, I felt myself well up thinking about all of the hard times this song had helped me get through. It was a true moment of catharsis and healing as I realized I had made it out. I had made it there.