NEWS: Baby Eagle & The Proud Mothers embark on Eastern Canadian tour in support of Bone Soldiers

Baby Eagle & The Proud Mothers embark on an Eastern Canadian tour this March in support of their forthcoming album, Bone Soldiers (You've Changed Records | March 06).
Dates are as follows:

March 28 - Peterborough, ON - The Garnet
March 29 - Hamilton, ON - The Casbah
March 30 - London, ON - APK
March 31 - Guelph, ON - Jimmy Jazz
April 05 - Toronto, ON - Dakota Tavern
April 08 - Montreal, QC - Casa Del Popolo
April 11 - Sackville, NB - The Legion

April 12 - Halifax, NS - Micheal's

April 13 - St. John's, NL - The Ship

Putting in ten years as a guitarist and vocalist in The Constantines, releasing three, now four records as Baby Eagle, and co-founding scrappy independent label You’ve Changed Records (Daniel Romano, Shotgun Jimmie, The Weather Station), Steven Lambke’s output has been ceaseless. No wonder that Bone Soldiers, his fourth record as Baby Eagle, abounds with military metaphor. It is the work of a veteran. Loud, brief, and incendiary, it’s both a return to his punk roots and a continuation of his increasingly sophisticated work with lyrics. As with the critically acclaimed Dog Weather, the record is a perfectly interconnected narrative. Lines that casually mix thorny questions of purpose and meaning with rich imagery and seemingly minor incident. Gorgeously bent guitar solos face up to Lambke as grinning narrator, wheezing, shouting, and whispering his way through a rich stew of rhythmic precision and pop decadence.

Decamping to Toronto’s vaunted 6 Nassau with Constantines producer Jeff McMurrich at the helm, Lambke enlisted an all-star team of friends and bandmates to be his Proud Mothers: Will Kidman (The Constantines), Ian Kehoe and Spencer Burton (both of Attack in Black), and Nick Ferrio (of his Feelings). They recorded the whole thing live off the floor in a couple days at the tail end of a long tour. The band sounds determined, bound in lockstep by time and meter yet taking every opportunity to slip out the sides, falling over into freewheeling solos, simple melodies with a few notes out of place, like a square that’s been hit by a hammer. At times gentle, at times joyfully deranged, the disc never fails to be vivid, as Lambke talks duty, dischord, and tangled connection. ‘We know love is a mongrel thing; a mix of chance and cross spirits,’ he shouts in the pop-laced “Marching Orders.“ By the last song, the crackling “Hurricane Weather,“ we can hear the accumulated hum of four amps, brothers and bandmates standing in a room, listening to a final note of feedback oscillating and wobbling to its foreshortened conclusion.