Most of us could say with relative certainty that going to a show and going home feel very differently, but after seeing Meteor Heist and Stars at the Danforth Music Hall, I’m not so sure anymore. Having been a part of Toronto’s music scene for a while, I’m used to seeing a few familiar faces in the crowd. Rarely are they on a massive stage that’s most often frequented by people you dream of meeting. When the show has the same faces as the people you drink beers with at a house party, it’s pretty difficult to not have a good time. 

While loitering outside the box office and waiting for it to open, I found that there was a feeling of connection that permeated even the most frostbitten people in line. Everyone chattered excitedly, sharing one pair of gloves between several people. I noticed pops of red in clothing, likely a subtle nod to an older Stars album cover, and what was probably Toronto’s whole supply of Blundstones on peoples’ feet. This was also when I spotted singer Lila Wright’s dad entering the venue just before doors through a separate line, cradling what I would later find out was a mandolin. Another performer demolished a shawarma on his way past security, holding it equally gently until it was gone. Once out of the cold, the venue filled up quickly. The holidays clearly do have the power to draw people together, as this stop on “The Christmas Anyways Shows” tour was sold out. The stage was adorned with Christmas trees, gaudy candy canes and two vaguely terrifying Bonhommes –the mascot of Québec’s Carnaval. It was cozy, reminiscent of a family home the night before Santa comes around. 

I’ve watched Meteor Heist perform live more times than I’m willing to admit, and when I saw that they were opening for Stars, I knew I had to be there. I’m stuck halfway between being a friend of the band and a fan, so this was a big night for both parts of me. Something I’ll never fail to comment on is the deep friendship that’s apparent to anyone watching Meteor Heist perform. From ramshackle outdoor sets to big stages like The Danforth, the connection the members have with one another is truly special. Throughout the night, you could see little vignettes of their chemistry when they’d play together, forming small duos onstage occasionally. Guitarist Cameron Stewart and bassist William Kilbride could often be spotted leaning towards each other, striking the kind of poses you’d see in pictures of classic rockstars. They’ve got the haircuts to match, too. 

Meteor Heist’s set was a mix of new and old, spanning everything from their first release “Circling the Drain” to the most recent “Falling Knife.” The latter featured killer live vocals from drummer Thomas Carli, whose small solo elicited a large cheer from the audience. You didn’t have to be a fan to have a good time though, as Meteor Heist immediately enchanted even the most nonplussed-looking audience member. By the end of the first song, people were recording on their phones, nodding their heads, and doing awkward little dance moves. From the barricade, I had a good view of everyone both onstage and off. I spotted several members of Superstar Crush in the crowd, as well others whom I’d shared the floor with before. Vocalist Lila Wright spoke about how she’s “been a Stars fan [her] entire life,” expressing a deep gratitude for being able to share the stage with the iconic band. She also quipped that she’d penned “the world’s worst jukebox musical”  based on their album The North when she was younger, which she says “will never see the light of day.” I’m still working on coercing a track or two out of her.

Despite the magnitude of this performance, Meteor Heist weren’t visibly nervous. They approached this gig the same way as they would any other: with a comfortable calmness and total faith in their abilities. I admired keyboardist Spencer Duncan-Dorton’s ability to shut out the world with a pair of noise cancelling headphones and some snazzy sunglasses. Many times I’ve wished to don the same combo at a show. Jokes aside, you don’t often get to witness a small band the moment they make it to the so-called big leagues. I’m split between feeling unbelievably proud of the band and sad that my little secret isn’t so little anymore. As they lurch towards the release of their second EP on January 23rd, I can’t help but feel that more big things are coming fast.

The first thing I noticed about Stars is that they looked nothing like the people I’d pictured based on their voices. There have been many such cases in my life, especially since I tend to be a fan of early 2000s indie tunes. I tend to think that people still look as young as they were on their earlier albums, which is never the case. Still, more than 20 years on the road have not withered Stars. Their energy is beyond infectious, and their clothing represents that optimism. Rather than appearing coolly nonchalant like their younger counterparts, they were dressed eccentrically. Lead singer Torquil Campbell sported a “Hot Girls for Zohran” t-shirt, and vocalist/guitarist Amy Millan was wearing a blue sequined jacket with the words “Ageless Beauty” across the back, which struck a shockingly millennial chord. It was kitschy but in a fun way, the kind of thing you’d see in a poorly-lit Tumblr photoshoot. The sequins reflected light like a miniature disco ball and I found myself unable to look away throughout the night. I’m not surprised that people cheered each time she opened her mouth – Millan’s voice was completely captivating. Paired with an occasionally catty sense of humour, she was enchanting to watch. 

Though Stars were formed in Montreal, you can tell that their allegiances still lie with Toronto. The band have performed in the GTA more than seven times in the last twelve months, each featuring an increasingly tailored setlist. The band spoke frequently about their love for Toronto, admitting openly that many of the songs they were playing were inspired by the city. Though I won’t lie and say that I’m the most familiar with the band’s discography, it seemed that people in the crowd were surprised by what they were hearing. Along with a few Christmas songs including the tour’s namesake “Christmas Anyways,” the set included many self-proclaimed deep cuts like “Elevator Love” as well as the hits. I found that their sound veered quite ‘80s at times, featuring bouncy synths and repetitive lyrics. This was enjoyable, but as a completely unashamed poser, their early work is still my favourite. 

There was a lovely amount of crowd interaction as well, which surprised me because of the sheer amount of both band members and special guests onstage. There wasn’t a sense of disconnection between them and us at all, despite all the moving parts. Each member had a bouquet of flowers around their gear, some in varying states of bloom. Throughout the evening, Campbell and Millan tossed whatever they could into the crowd. At one point, this even included handing someone a pot of poinsettias from the drum riser over the barricade. Everyone was singing along loudly, especially during “Your Ex-Lover Is Dead.” While Campbell used his seemingly endless lung capacity to play the melodica, the crowd carried the vocals. This is something I’ve always loved about crowds of millennials: they aren’t afraid to sing along. Since Stars had their peak around the same time as bands like Death Cab for Cutie, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, and Belle and Sebastian, it wasn’t a surprise that the crowd was mostly made up of people unafraid to be themselves. Campbell thanked us for our participation throughout the night with what must’ve been more than ten “thank you darlings!” Though it slowly lost its novelty, his clear love for both the crowd and his job was infectious. 

As Stars moved through their set gracefully, I was struck by an odd wave of dizziness that I thought would take me out for good. Determined to make the most of my press pass, I decided to tough it out. I guess I saw two versions of stars that night: the band and the ones floating through my field of vision. Never once did I feel like that if I fell, nobody would catch me. I’d befriended the people around me, and we’d morphed into one large family throughout the course of the night. Some actual family was in the crowd that night too: Wright’s dad played onstage with Stars for a few songs, and her sister manned the merch booth. Members from both bands brought partners, friends, and grandparents to enjoy the festivities. Despite my dizziness, there’s still nowhere I’d rather have been that night.

The night ended sooner than I would have liked, as is often the case when I dread returning to the freezing cold outside the venue. Still, I found myself caught in conversations even as I made my way towards the door. The stage looked trashed, as if it’d be played by a hardcore or punk act rather than a couple of indie bands. The contrast between this visual and the performers made me laugh. Watching two generations of indie artists collide was really special for me, and I think the other members of the audience felt that energy too. Stars proved their influence on the state of Canada’s indie scene very concretely that night, not that I had any doubts in my mind. No better way to kick off the holidays and welcome exam season than with some killer live music, right?