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Elevator Music's first show was broken up by the police. Thankfully it was not in a grocery store.
courtesy Elevator Music

Elevator Music not making boring muzak

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Elevator Music burst onto the Calgary scene in August of last year with their self-titled EP, Elevator Music.

The traditional five-track EP was refreshing amongst today's crowd of bands who collaborate with one another to produce the simplest, most similar sound possible. Drummer Nigel Pohran provides an intense, precise foundation for bassist Brandon Zimmerman, who offers intricate, unique melodies further expanded on by guitarists Juan Delfin and Anthony Kameka. The group maintains a melancholy but hopeful sound, reminiscent of the bumps and potholes on life's road, but also of an ultimately optimistic view of the journey.

Elevator Music formed a little more than a year ago and has been performing at local venues ever since. The band was born as many bands are, from the ashes of previous endeavours and a few chance encounters.

"Nigel, Brandon and I were in a band two years ago that didn't work out," says backing vocalist and lead guitarist Delfin. "I met Anthony in Calculus class one day and we started jamming."

When asked which of their gigs stood out, Delfin had quite a tale about their very first show -- a house party that ended up going poorly for the group.

"We played at a house party, and came on after this screamo band. Halfway through our first song, the cops came and stopped us."

Guitarist and lead vocalist Kameka adds that the cops weren't all too understanding, unfortunately.

"They went away, then came back again in the middle of our second song," says Kameka. "They said it was too loud, but that was probably the screamo band that played before us."

Tracks like "Treason In The Season Of Summer" march forward gracefully, guided by intimate lyrics and catchy guitar riffs. Clearly, their music is composed with thought and originality and has the potential to profoundly affect its listeners, like in one special case that can't help but warm the cockles of the heart.

"We were playing a show a couple of months ago, and this guy asked if we could play a few songs for his friend Lindsay," says Kameka. "They're both from America and they were in the military and she had just lost one of her really close friends. For some reason, she said, our music reminded her of her friend. We grabbed a few small amps and our guitars, and we sat down with Lindsay and played her 'Treason In The Season of Summer' and 'Mirabel.' She cried hardcore for a while, but the second time, she couldn't stop smiling."

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