MAX GALACTIC and the CLOUD OF EVIL are... Nick Gair on Guitar/Vocals, John Williams on Clarinet, Justin Ruppel on Drums, Mike Tersigni on Bass and, Jimmy "Keys" Robinson on Keyboards. Max Galactic and the Cloud of Evil are a Toronto based band whose sound is a fusion of blues, rock n’ roll, swing, and all sorts of other fun music. Each member of the band draws in radically different influences and musical experience but the band as a whole operates as one mind with a sound of its own. The Cloud was formed in 2006. With the exception of James Robinson, who was a recently recruited addition on keyboards, the band met as students at the University of Toronto. Since then they’ve been steadily entertaining crowds around and developing their unique sound. For a clearer idea of who or what “The Cloud” is read some of the following quotes and reviews, take in some of the sights and sounds on the media page, or better yet, come and see a show! ---------- “They have managed to develop a mature but playful sound.” “Each [member] is an outstanding musician. Put together, their talents lend themselves to a folk-blues ‘make ya wanna tap your feet and scat along’ pop flavour” - The Newspaper (University of Toronto) "U of T sharp shooters who band together with a surprisingly brilliant fluency" "They entertain." - Dan Burke ---------- CONCERT REVIEW of Lee's Palace Show, October 2006, by Andy Jowitt What do you get when you cram Monty Python, 1950s sci-fi ray-gun comics, Prohibition-era swing jazz and dark, wounded Chicago blues into the heads of a band of young Torontonians, then blast the lot of them into space to freak out with the aliens? Something approaching Max Galactic & The Cloud of Evil, that's what. I say 'something approaching' because I still can't get anywhere near pinpointing what triggered this band into existence. That's not a criticism, mind. I mean, some bands, normally the inspiration-free zones that are glorified pub-rockers like, say, Razorlight, don't need much explanation. They met in a bar, had the same stupid haircuts and terrible taste, so it was better that they stuck together, if only to keep them away from everyone else. The Galactic, however, are an entirely different proposition. A band apparently pulling in influences from all over the space-time continuum (influences that sometimes pull back), they cut through jazz, space rock and blues like a jet stream – full on and no let up – while throwing in songs that really wouldn't be amiss on The Muppet Show. Again, not a criticism. You can't really see where they've come from – or rather, you can't see who managed to sell the idea of forming this band on paper when there must've been a thousand run-of-the-mill indie rock outfits to join. Special credit, then, to the man with his name on the marquee, Mr. Max Galactic. Tonight he cuts a suitably dashing, er, dash in a classic tuxedo topped off with a sombrero. Clearly, this is a man with some crazy plans that might just work and no small amount of self belief. Like all good comic book heroes, I guess. I also guess that Max Galatic's special power must be his ability to channel a rumbling, weary baritone straight from somewhere deep in the Delta to whatever planet he's bouncing off. The set opens with a brief jaunt into space – I'm sure I caught a riff not a million light-years from Shine On You Crazy Diamonds – before it's brought back to Earth, apparently at the nearest speakeasy. This is where John Williams – described by Max as 'a legend in his own right' – gets his moment in the solar flare. The band's clarinet player – yes, clarinet player – can play. And I mean he can 'play' as in not only can he play all the right notes in the right order, but he can also spin off on dizzying spirals of sound, rising and swooping over a rhythm section that's tighter than Hasselhoff's best leather kecks. And while the music moves from the cheery-drunk optimism of 'Today' to the crunching, woman-done-me-wrong blues of 'Who's Been Talking', so the band ebbs and flows as extra members come and go – at one point it looks like the stage might not be able to contain The Cloud. Perhaps the most prominent guest star secured for this evening is Satan himself, who drops in for an energetic on-stage Charleston before settling down to play some banjo. Now you don't get that at a Coldplay gig. Besides Old Scratch, there's various visiting jazz guitarists, xylophone…er...ers, percussionists, violin players and two swing dancers, who tore up the front row in a blur of spins and twists. All this for five dollars? They must be crazy. And I think they very well may be. Still, even if they are, there's a charming abandon to their madness and, judging by the impromptu sing-and-dance-along that greeted the lost Muppets tune 'Where The Wild Things Are' (I'm sure that's Animal on backing vocals), they've got plenty of willing space cadets. So, don't worry about where they've come from or how they got here, or even how their diabolical, crack-pot schemes might get you vaporized. If you get the chance, just enjoy Max Galactic & The Cloud of Evil – coming soon to a planet near you!