artist Chris Page

A Marshall cabinet, speaker cloth spray-painted and torn, Cons
six inches off the floor, a Townshend-heavy riff crashing down off
the stage like a wrecking ball. This is how I first remember
Chris Page, a small basement club somewhere in Ottawa,
rock ‘n’ roll played as if life depended on it.

Now, years later, I take a walk with Page's new solo album
"A Date With a Smoke Machine." The crushing guitar of his
legendary Glengarry punks The Stand GT or current
alt-anthem machine Camp Radio only lurks at the corners here.
Front and centre is Page's songwriting, accompanied by
acoustic guitars and noisy curios that sound plucked from dusty
rec rooms. Plaintive, thoughtful, at times nostalgic, this is music that
plays with memories of beginnings and endings, and might just
be as crushing as a 100-watt wall of sound.

With a new Camp Radio album slotted for release in late 2010,
high kicks and high volume will soon return to the Page camp.
But in the meantime, "A Date With a Smoke Machine" is something
we should take time to savour. Here, in story and in sound, we find
a songwriter perfecting his craft. Here, layers peeled back, we find
songs that need second and third listens, melodies to hum,
words to remember.

- KELP RECORDS