Musician Sheri-Lee Wisor just got home from a 10-town tour of Europe and is understandably full of tales. “We played a rock bar with a huge banner of my boyfriend, that big dude from Manowar behind us, a club in Slovenia where the front lights of the building were turned off to ensure the ‘privacy’ of the show. Man, it’s cold in Slovenia. I think my favorite show was in a half-German, half-Italian town near the borders of Switzerland and Austria called Bolzano. It was a smaller bar, but it was packed with people and between songs it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“The people over there seem really interested in Canadian bands,” she continues. “It’s always so great to play with Keith Rose, who I consider one of the seminal players in Canadian indie music and part of the reason why I wanted to play bass when I first started. We travelled with a duo called NonMiPiaceIlCirco! which translates to ‘I don’t like the circus.’ There’s this cool trend they call ‘noise folk’ over there — organic instruments, dissonance, with a roots feel. It worked really nicely with the stuff I’ve been doing.

“I’ve been doing a lot of work over the last year on other music  exploring different singing styles, so it was really nice to be able to rock out and play my own material again, and a great way to kick off the re-launching of Happy for the first time since my guitar player, Robin Hunter, left for Vancouver. This new version is going to have a bigger power-pop-stomp feel with Tom Murray on bass and Fat Dave Johnston on guitar. ”Happy is playing Feb. 12 at the Starlite. “It’s the Grant MacEwan Valentine’s bash and we’re sharing the bill with hip-hop outfits Swollen Members and Scratch from the Roots — we kick off the night. Fun.”

I read David Byrne’s Bicycle Diaries and recommend it to any creative person or cyclist. Cycling along on his fold-up two-wheeler, a blurred Byrne applies his childlike, taking-nothing-for-granted philosophical outlook to subjects like does it really matter who (or what) makes art in terms of our ability to enjoy it? He’s talking about “outsider” art here, sometimes made by people with disabilities who try their hardest and come up with images that look like work more “sophisticated” artists might make intentionally primitive. As a photographer, I especially agree with his idea of natural calamity‚ or abandoned, industrial ruin — as accidental art as valid as anything worked on with a single-hair oil brush during the Renaissance. Byrne also talks about George Eastman’s hilarious, suicide note (“My work is done. Why wait?”), laughs at dogs addicted to psychedelic toads, and details a moment breaking down crying in the desert staring at an anthill. He dismisses any sacred epiphany with a sigh: “… being that I’m a mere yards from a crappy concrete-block motel room and a humming minifridge, I doubt it.” Buy this book, it’s a captivating tour. The epilogue reads especially well with Shout Out’s fall remix of Moby’s creeped-out “Mistake” in the background.

Darren Jordan is curating another warm, Africentric art show opening Saturday afternoon, the 5 Artists, 1 Love Art Show at the TU Gallery (10718-124th St.). He explains: “Last year the artists each contributed one piece describing their feelings on the election of President Obama. This aspect of the show was well received and generated a lot discussion.”

This batch of visual artists tackle “the theme of black music” and its fundamental role in our lives. The Yardbird is hosting a show Friday to ramp up the event, Jeff Hendrick and the Love Jones Band, with many guests, covering everything from jazz to neo-soul. Come taste what Edmonton really can be, as opposed to the Oiligans losing again on some generic big screen at Burstin’ Pizza.