As we walked back to my car, Basia Bulat (bah-shah boo-laht) told me about working with Steve Albini, engineer for the Pixies and Nirvana. “We have the same recording philosophy,” she said. “A record is a snapshot of a band’s sound, it’s not the band.”
It’s tempting to try to explain Bulat, an unassuming folk-pop singer from Toronto. If her Tuesday night Schubas performance was a freeze frame, this can be said: Basia sang well, strummed hard and hammered a sharp Autoharp.
Bulat’s Chicago stop was her first on the U.S. leg of her tour to promote Heart of My Own, her album released last month on Rough Trade. She has been on the indie radar since her 2007 full-length debut album, Oh, My Darling, and subsequent nomination for a 2008 Polaris Prize.
Sam Cooke, The Beatles and Motown shape her music most, according to Bulat, but other than the short, hook-based structure of her songs, her influences would be difficult to identify explicitly. Basia’s sound is friendship; it’s back-porch jam croon, assured and approachable.
Bulat’s music comes from and for those close to her and the first three-day recording session for Oh, My Darling was only a happenstance of playing with friends. She still tours with her drummer brother Bobby and music-teacher mother. Allison “Wonderland” Stewart took on viola and vocals sheepishly, but her smiles at Basia and whispered asides endeared her to the audience immediately.
Bulat’s new friend, Katie Stelmanis, opened the show and performed solo for the first time. Bulat heard about Katie through her friend and tour-buddy Owen Pallet (formerly of the band Final Fantasy.) Stelmanis held her own that night, aptly wielding her flexible voice as another instrument in a keyboard kit of loops and synth.
Like Stelmanis, Bulat is a member of the Feist/Arcade Fire Canuck diaspora. Bulat first made waves at the University of Western Ontario, where she was pursuing a Master’s in English Literature, and she still counts on Brontë and Bukowski to keep her sane. “I think I start to feel frustrated if I don’t have something to read. I’ve always been a bookworm,” she said.
Bulat’s played a mix of old and new, the most surprising moment being a parade march update to “The Pilgriming Vine,” a pretty ditty from her first album. Despite the occasional instrumental snafu and unfortunate lack of a piano, the three were stable, strong and charming. The chance to share the night’s memory with Bulat was well worth the $10 ticket price.