The Smell Of Our Own – Hidden Cameras
“THE GAY POLYPHONIC SPREE!” scream the giddy majority of press mentions of Toronto’s ever more gushed-over Hidden Cameras. Hell, look, we just did it too. We couldn’t help ourselves. And as frustrating as it may be for superficial similarities to be blown up millstone-esque, y’know, you need a starting point you can understand. And glance at the actual facts – a numerically unspecific morphing band of up to 15 musicians, a swelling backing choir and an excitable gaggle of male Continue Reading