It's surely not easy being a public figure. Sure, you might crave the attention of a devoted audience while onstage.

But offstage, you can be the centre of the most fanciful tales. Why, if we were to take the rumour mill as gospel, we'd all believe that Clay Aiken is gay, that Phil Spector is a gun-toting maniac and that Michael Jackson fondles little boys.

Fortunately, we have more sense than to give such tales credence.

To hear the rumour-mongers tell it, Chad VanGaalen -- the frightfully-gifted singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and visual artist responsible for two of the most extraordinary pop records in recent memory -- is a recluse prone to remaining sequestered in his 'colourfully painted' Calgary home for days, weeks or months on end.

Well, confronted with the absurd accusation over the phone, a personable VanGaalen is quick to address the issue.

"Yeah, I guess it's true," he says. "I don't really leave my house. I don't really have a reason to leave my house. I don't like going to clubs; I don't socialize. Anyway, I have a studio here, and I just built a halfpipe out back."

Fortunately for us, VanGaalen is willing to occasionally venture far from home to bring his songs directly to a public that was instantly smitten by the eclectic sounds of 2004's Infiniheart, and that found love again this year, the second time around, with the equally trippy Skelliconnection.

Never mind that VanGaalen, who admits to being "not much of a music enthusiast," cares not for Skelliconnection and will concede only that Infiniheart "had a naive, honest quality to it."

As long as he continues to delight in experimenting with sound, we shall be thankful for what we are about to receive.

"A lot of it is just me having fun recording," VanGaalen says with a shrug.

"It's just me playing for my own sheer entertainment. And a lot of it doesn't translate to the stage."

Okay, so our favourite recluse is not blessed with marketing skills. Nor does he appear to be a reliable music critic.

For it's difficult to imagine a talent such as this, armed with a musical arsenal that will include ukulele, guitar, keyboards, flute, drums, sequencers and unique, homemade instruments, failing to dazzle all in attendance tomorrow.

Besides, even VanGaalen admits to not having a clear idea of precisely how the show will go, other than a vague promise of "playing recorder, whistling and telling stories of the day."

The final 15 minutes of the set, VanGaalen says, will be improvised.

Audience participation is encouraged.

And hey, if you're ever in Calgary...

"I've had issues with duplicate band names before," Stefani Guzman says with a smile.

The singer, guitarist and songwriter is acknowledging the reality that her latest band, EastBorough, with four shows behind them and an EP greeting the world Friday, shares its name with a band from Southborough, Mass.

Her previous band, The Hussies, made a similar discovery before mutating into the short-lived We Are Accidents last spring.

"I was in touch with the other Hussies, this band from Texas," Guzman says. "They were very mean."

So far, no such meanness from the Boston area. Anyway, the music Guzman and her EastBorough bandmates Aedan Helmer, Paul Mahar, Nina Langfield and Justin Purvis have crafted for their self-titled EP would smell as sweet under any name.

Boasting a small-scale wall-of-sound feel, songs such as the pretty You Call I Fold and the upbeat Instrumental display a wealth of promise for such a tender band. And, the band members insist, they are only the beginning.

"These four songs are like the punctuation at the end of a sentence for us," Helmer says. "It's all about the next record."

"Music," Guzman adds, "is all about urgency. It's important to be able to back up your sound; to have something tangible. Then, you can move ahead."