Dan Mangan's tender troubadour tunes have taken various forms over the years: warm 'n' cuddly folk (2009's Nice, Nice, Very Nice), cryptic art rock (2015's Club Meds), synth-driven meditations on mortality (2022's Being Somewhere). Through it all, Mangan's most enduring talent has been his ability to command a room with just an acoustic guitar and a microphone — something that's been the case since his earliest days in the Vancouver indie scene, and remains true as he goes about promoting his more elaborately produced recent works.
His underplay at Toronto's very sold out Longboat Hall was as much a night of storytelling as it was a night of music, with Mangan frequently introducing songs with long monologues that were as engaging as the music itself. A story about crying in a hotel corridor at SXSW made "Road Regrets" all the more affecting, "Fire Escape" prompted an anecdote about Mangan's friendship with The Walking Dead actor Steven Ogg, and the introduction to "Pine for Cedars" drew attention to the song's many Vancouver references (it's been 14 years since the song was released, and I only just noticed that "chatted and chewed" is a Slickity Jim's nod).
Newer tunes like "Just Know It" and "Troubled Mind" were stripped down to the bare bones, with heart-wrenching rawness that made them fit nicely alongside the more traditional balladry of early highlights like "Sold" and "Basket." Mangan didn't have a setlist, instead playing whichever song felt right in the moment. His gruff voice was a little softer that the growl he used to employ, and he was note-perfect whether poignantly reaching for high notes on "Fool for Waiting" or doing an impressive whistling solo on a cover of Neutral Milk Hotel's "In the Aeroplane over the Sea."
If the show had a weak point, it was Mangan's invitation for fans to shout out requests — something that got a bit chaotic and stressful, with people all over the room bellowing out their personal favourites and somewhat interrupting the cozy vibes of the rest of the show. But the crowd was otherwise polite and attentive, even when Mangan stripped songs down to the essentials and crooned over barely-there guitar chords.
The best moments came when the crowd acted as Mangan's backup singers. The musician spontaneously invited local songwriter Georgia Harmer up on stage to sing "The Indie Queens Are Waiting," but when Harmer turned out not to be in the room, the crowd filled in the call-and-response backing vocals (originally sung by Veda Hille). Even Mangan seemed taken aback when the fans replicated the song's climactic harmony.
For a pseudo encore — Mangan didn't bother disappearing backstage — he did his usual track of killing all the lights in the room and standing on a stool in the middle of the floor. Illuminated by the glow of an orb-like lamp, he led the crowd in a big, unplugged singalong of "Robots" and "So Much for Everyone." It was so quiet that Mangan competed for volume with the hum of the air conditioning — which he asked to be turned off, but it never was — proof of how effectively he's able command the attention of a few hundred fans.
At the end of the night, he announced plans to return with a band for a full-scale tour later this year. But as he proved on this night, he doesn't need anything but his own magnetic charisma to hold an audience rapt.
His underplay at Toronto's very sold out Longboat Hall was as much a night of storytelling as it was a night of music, with Mangan frequently introducing songs with long monologues that were as engaging as the music itself. A story about crying in a hotel corridor at SXSW made "Road Regrets" all the more affecting, "Fire Escape" prompted an anecdote about Mangan's friendship with The Walking Dead actor Steven Ogg, and the introduction to "Pine for Cedars" drew attention to the song's many Vancouver references (it's been 14 years since the song was released, and I only just noticed that "chatted and chewed" is a Slickity Jim's nod).
Newer tunes like "Just Know It" and "Troubled Mind" were stripped down to the bare bones, with heart-wrenching rawness that made them fit nicely alongside the more traditional balladry of early highlights like "Sold" and "Basket." Mangan didn't have a setlist, instead playing whichever song felt right in the moment. His gruff voice was a little softer that the growl he used to employ, and he was note-perfect whether poignantly reaching for high notes on "Fool for Waiting" or doing an impressive whistling solo on a cover of Neutral Milk Hotel's "In the Aeroplane over the Sea."
If the show had a weak point, it was Mangan's invitation for fans to shout out requests — something that got a bit chaotic and stressful, with people all over the room bellowing out their personal favourites and somewhat interrupting the cozy vibes of the rest of the show. But the crowd was otherwise polite and attentive, even when Mangan stripped songs down to the essentials and crooned over barely-there guitar chords.
The best moments came when the crowd acted as Mangan's backup singers. The musician spontaneously invited local songwriter Georgia Harmer up on stage to sing "The Indie Queens Are Waiting," but when Harmer turned out not to be in the room, the crowd filled in the call-and-response backing vocals (originally sung by Veda Hille). Even Mangan seemed taken aback when the fans replicated the song's climactic harmony.
For a pseudo encore — Mangan didn't bother disappearing backstage — he did his usual track of killing all the lights in the room and standing on a stool in the middle of the floor. Illuminated by the glow of an orb-like lamp, he led the crowd in a big, unplugged singalong of "Robots" and "So Much for Everyone." It was so quiet that Mangan competed for volume with the hum of the air conditioning — which he asked to be turned off, but it never was — proof of how effectively he's able command the attention of a few hundred fans.
At the end of the night, he announced plans to return with a band for a full-scale tour later this year. But as he proved on this night, he doesn't need anything but his own magnetic charisma to hold an audience rapt.