Vancouver Magazine
Opening Soon: A Japanese-Style Bagel Shop in Downtown Vancouver
The Broadway/Cambie Corridor Has Become a Hub for Excellent Chinese Restaurants
Flaky, Fluffy and Freaking Delicious: Vancouver’s Top Fry Bread and Bannock
Protected: The Wick is Lit for This Fraser Valley Winery
Wine Collab of the Week: The Best Bottle to Welcome a Vancouver Spring
Naked Malt Blended Malt Scotch Whisky Celebrates Versatility and Spirit
The Orpheum to Launch ‘Silent Movie Mondays’ This Spring
5 Things to Do in Vancouver This Week (March 27-April 2)
Meet Missy D, the Bilingual Vancouver Hip Hop Artist for the Whole Family
What It’s Like to Get Lost on a Run With a Pro Trail Runner
8 Things to Do in Abbotsford (Even If It’s Pouring Rain)
Explore the Rockies by Rail with Rocky Mountaineer
The Future of Beauty: How One Medical Aesthetics Clinic is Changing the Game
4 Fashion Designers From African Fashion Week Vancouver to Put on Your Radar
Before Hibernation Season Ends: A Round-Up of the Coziest Shopping Picks
Because we do occasionally leave the office.
It might have a lame new name that speaks directly to its new owners (the Donnelly Group), but what used to be known as the Railway Club hasn’t given up on shining a light on new and exciting bands. On Saturday night (in a seeming betrayal of their band name) it’ll be Friday Night Fires, a Kamloops foursome now based in Vancouver. The band has one, four-song, self-titled EP that was released last year. But that selection of tunes speaks to how many different ways the quartet can jam.There’s the croony ballad “Whiskey”, in which frontman Jonathan Chow sounds like The Tallest Man on Earth; foot-stomping opener “How Far I’d Go” that profiles more in the vein of The Sheepdogs behind a powerful guitar that works perfectly around the rough edges of Chow’s voice; and finale “Janie” which makes use of excellent instrumental work and a mid-song verse that sounds nothing like the rest of it.Mostly it’s just an absolute shocker that the band is currently without a label. The album sounds far too polished for a self-produced debut. —Associate editor Nathan Caddell
If the weather holds up, I’ll be hurtling down the I-5 shortly towards Seattle and, more importantly, Seattle’s best karaoke. Sorry, I should’ve capitalized that— Seattle’s Best Karaoke—given that it’s literally the name of my preferred spot in the Emerald City to belt out some Springsteen. It may be located in a strip mall with zero charm (I think SBK itself might actually be in a former medical clinic, given the look of its decor) but once you take a gander at the extensive song list and realize that, with a $10 banquet license you can legally bring in your own food and booze, you’ll never bother waiting in like at RockBox again. —Executive editor, Stacey McLachlan