You can be kings of your castle for a while, but pretty soon you have to leave your insulated environment and see if the rest of the world gives a shit. This band has always enjoyed the support of many friends in town, and many friends who've moved into other parts of Southern Ontario, but this is the first time in a long time we'll be playing before people who have NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL WE'RE TRYING TO DO. Not that we have a complete grasp on the situation either, but isn't that what voyages of self-discovery are all about? So take it from the top: one, two, three, four...
Thursday, June 13
Toronto, NXNE
I'm sure there are a lot of good things about a festival like
NXNE, but the only thing I can think of is the socializing. We
bump into friends from Julia Propeller, Tristan Psionic, People
From Earth, Taxi Chain, Green Pepperelli, Blue Rodeo, and of
course those old warhorses in King Cobb Smellie. There was also
a free concert in the CITY-TV parking lot, where you could
witness amazing musicians like Alisdair Jones and (Guelph's own!) Ken
Myhr waste their time in a bad pop band from Newfoundland. Alejandro
Escovedo didn't excite me the way I thought he might, but his string
section was pretty interesting. Our show was a brutal mess. Technical
difficulties at our venue (X-Ray's) meant we didn't get a sound check
and stood around a lot wasting time - perhaps an excellent
introduction to the world of touring. By the time the system is ready,
it's already halfway through our forty-minute time slot. Five songs
later, we're off the stage. Personally, it was a complete waste of my
time, because I couldn't hear a single note I was playing. But that's
just me being petty - Sam was rocking, and the audience claimed it
sounded good ... but Toronto audiences are always polite. That was
only the beginning of the bad news. Sheila had to skip the NXNE show
to make a last-minute doctor's appointment, where she learned that she
had a large cyst in her stomach that may or may not be ready to burst
and may or may not be close to vital organs. There is no way she can
leave with us the next day, and it's doubtful she'll make it on the
trip at all.
Friday, June 14
Sudbury, The Townehouse
Our departure from Toronto is obviously more bitter than sweet,
and it's very emotional watching Sheila wave goodbye as we pull
off from her house. It feels wrong and incomplete to forge ahead, but
there's really no other choice. Fortunately, (even though Withers left
his guitar in Toronto and we have to get it put on a bus) everything
about the night in Sudbury has convinced me that things are looking
up: a bar full of rowdy treeplanters, two full sets encompassing much
old and new material ("Tonight, Tonight" by Spike, "Gravity" by
Tristan, and the debut of a new song by Nick, "Wheels"), a friendly
face from Guelph who's also on the road, and another friendly face
from Guelph who's putting us up in a wonderful cottage on a lake. At
the gig, Dave meets the old bass player from classic Canadian punk
band The Demics (best known for "(I Wanna Go To) New York City"), who
now plays in country and jazz bands and has many stories about the old
days.
Saturday, June 15
Sudbury
Relax!! We venture into town to do some shopping and scoff a
life-size cardboard cutout of Reba McEntire from a Shoppers Drug
Mart, who will be hawking our merchandise for us later on tour.
The rest of the day is spent swimming, paddleboating, serving up
a veggie BBQ and drinking scotch and cider. I'll let you all in
on a little-known Guelph secret: soundman extraordinaire Steve
Clarkson looks stunning in a Speedo bathing suit. I'm willing to
bet even King Cobb Steelie doesn't know that.
Sunday, June 16
Drive to Wawa and stop at the goose. Get frowns when we order
vegetarian pizzas at the Greek restaurant. Camp just outside of
town ($5 a head) where we can't light a fire due to extreme fire
hazard warnings. An early night before...
Monday, June 17
Drive like hell. Wawa to Thunder Bay. The magnificent scenery is
accompanied by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, a dub mix tape, Aaron
Riches, the Pixies, the Motown box set, the new Troll album, and
of course, the Rheostatics' Music Inspired By the Group of Seven. We
spend a total of one hour in Thunder Bay (for dinner), where -
of course - Spike runs into someone he knows from Guelph the
second he steps out of the van. From there it's straight through
to Regina, and we drive into the Northern Ontario sunset
listening to the Chemical Brothers. The scenery is fantastic, and
there are several tempting moments to pull over and frolic in a
waterfall, but we forge ahead nonetheless.
Tuesday, June 18
We arrive in Regina at 10AM and spend the day postering and
scoping the scene. We busk in an open-air mall (like Sparks
Street in Ottawa) for desparately-needed money ... 'coz we're
pretty much broke, and will be until we get to Alberta. We're
playing a large festival on Lesser Slave Lake, which will no
doubt be the musical and financial highlight of the tour.
While we're busking we're confronted by a local television crew
who had been interviewing someone in front of store earlier. They film
us playing as part of an extro and plug our gig. We all go out for a
beer at a hotel lounge to watch our fifteen seconds of glory. Tonight
we camp in a trailer park just off the highway outside of town,
complete with pool. Anyone who says there aren't mosquitoes in
Saskatchewan is lying.
Wednesday, June 19
A much better busking day, because we hit the noon crowd. We're
more comfortable adapting our songs to the environment, we're not
burnt out from a 24-hr drive, people are listening, and we actually
sell a couple of CDs based on our performance. It was very important
that we busked that day, because every single person - all fifteen of
them - who come to the show that night saw us in the street. Kate also
had two friends show up who used to go to Guelph. Although the turnout
is abysmal, we play fairly well and get them all dancing. The promoter
puts us up in two hotel rooms, meaning he has obviously taken a total
financial dive on the show.
Thursday, June 20
The morning is buoyed by the news that Sheila got some more tests
done, some sober second and third opinions, and will be flying out to
meet us in Edmonton. The cyst wasn't near any vital organs, and is in
no immediate danger. She'll have the operation when we get back. The
day is spent driving to Edmonton, but once we arrive we have no idea
what to do. Camp? Motel? Track down Steve Clarkson's long-lost cousin?
Fortunately, Spike once again runs into someone he knows at a gas
station just inside city limits. His name is Chris Smith, a renowned
local guitarist, and he had just returned from touring with Pal Joey,
where they had played X-Ray's for NXNE the night after us. We now have
a place to stay.
Friday, June 21
Wake up in Edmonton's finest rock'n'roll house, known as
MarlinSpike, home to Chris Smith (The Piemyn, Terry Morrison,
Jr. Gone Wild), folk singer Luann Kowalek, and Sherri-Lee
Heschel, who plays bass for both
Hookahman
(a ten-piece Cabbage-like band) and the new project for Mike
MacDonald (Jr. Gone Wild). We do an interview over breakfast
with none other than a former Ontarion entertainment editor, who
now works for the Edmonton equivalent of id. The afternoon is
spent scooting up to Joussard. We have to take a longer route
because the main road has been washed out by the worst flooding
in recent north Albertan history. After a near- death experience
involving the passing lane and two logging trucks (out of
politeness I won't name the driver), we arrive at the festival
fairly safe. After the worst flooding in recent Albertan
history, the site is an absolute mudbath, and I'm one of the few
band members who didn't get a chance to buy rubber boots while
we were in Edmonton. Alpha Yaya Diallo, a shit-hot African band
from Vancouver, were supposed to headline tonight, but didn't
show up (they had major van trouble and arrive in the middle of
the night). The organizers want us to go on instead, but the
combination of being burnt out and dealing with inept stage
managers lead us to veto that idea. Three amazing acts at
tonight's festival: the folk/blues/jazz of Bill Bourne &
Shannon Johnson, the blistering rock of Greyhound Tragedy, and
the incredibly funky Rootabeggars (ex-Roots Roundup). The latter
two play the second stage beginning at 1AM, before a bunch of
drunken kids who eat it all up. The music doesn't stop until
well past 3.30 in the morning, just as the sun is rising again
after only a couple of hours of darkness.
Saturday, June 22
The showers in the performers' campsite are cold water only. Dave
braves the ice field in the morning, where Alpha Yaya Diallo tells
him, "You are a very, very brave man. I am from Africa - we could not
do such a thing." Dave spends the rest of the weekend telling the
story to anyone who will listen. There are a couple of people here who
know us: Nick meets a woman who his sister Holly picked up hitchiking
somewhere in the prairies last year; Spike runs into an old friend
from Canada World Youth, who will later be at the front of the stage
with his girlfriend and two friends, all of whom know the lyrics to
the album tracks. We knock back a couple of beers with them in the
parking lot after dinner. Our mainstage performance: we go on last,
after Alpha Yaya Diallo (shit-hot African band from Vancouver who
rocked last year's Hillside) and Bob Wiseman's new band. How or why we
are supposed to follow those performers is anyone's guess, but the
show is amazing. Things are running late - let's just say that
enforcement of the time limit is rather lax (all the stage managers
are tanked) - and we hit the stage somewhere around 1AM and play until
almost 3AM. It's the Black Cabbage Stadium Rock Experience, which
concludes with Spike stage diving into the crowd during "Kelly Liked
to Spin." After we're done, the Mike MacDonald band tears up the
workship stage, Chris and Luann play at an acoustic stage, and lots of
jams go down at several campfires. I'm quickly falling in love with a
trinity of musical women: Luann Kowalek, Sherry-Lee Heschel, and
Shannon Johnson. Somewhere around 6AM I stumble across a piano at an
acoustic stage and play Tom Waits' "Yesterday Is Here" to the morning
before heading to bed around 6AM. Sam doesn't sleep at all, but is
still holding up pretty well at around 4PM on Sunday. We should just
turn around and go home now; it can't get any better than this.
Sunday, June 23
A relaxed day as the festival winds down. Sheila and I are in a
workshop symptomatic of most of the others: badly organized and
horrible onstage communication. It starts off pretty good (esp.
with a cameo by Alpha Yaya Diallo), but eventually just
degenerates into more white blues. We all decide to stick around
for the performer/volunteer dinner, and the weekend concludes
with the best campfire jam yet: Bill Bourne, Chris Smith, Shannon
Johnson, her brother the wry and witty standup bassist Solon McDade,
Terry Morrison, Karl Roth, and Sheila and myself. Luann, Shannon and
Sam (who Shannon has taken to referring to as "Little Jawa!") conclude
their pact to see who can stay awake the longest (none of them has
slept since Friday) by agreeing on a draw. Once again, as will be a
pattern on this trip, Tristan sleeps through the best times.
Monday, June 24
Van trouble delays our arrival back in Edmonton. Once there we
take a hotel room (three double beds for $60) and exploit the
bathing facilities and free cable.
Tuesday, June 25
Edmonton errands, including an interview at CJSR with exGuelphite
Chris Martin, who now books and manages several bands
in Edmonton, as well as Uisce Beatha. We head to the MarlinSpike
house around 4PM and proceed to get very drunk with its residents and
guests. Later we head to an open stage and slaughter a few of our
tunes before an unsuspecting audience. Tristan falls asleep in the van
(again) and Sherri-Lee fills in on bass.
Wednesday, June 26
Chris Martin lands us a spot on a local television show, where
all the staff have been meticulously trained in the art of CITYTV
camerawork and attention spans. When they booked us to play,
they told us we had to come up with a question that they would
get an expert to answer during the course of the show. The one
question on all our minds, of course, was why exactly Spike's
feet smell like dead fish (as the tour progresses, we discover
he's not the only culprit). We don't tell Spike about it
beforehand; he's duly embarassed. Nonetheless, we get some Dr.
Scholl's foot spray, some odour soles and three pairs of socks
out of the deal. We play "Baile" and about thirty seconds of
"President."
Thursday, June 27
Arrive in Vancouver after driving through the night. Passing
through Jasper with the moon casting ominous shadows was quite
a striking sight, particularly when accompanied by
Swordfishtrombones.
We busk at the corner of Granville and Robson, where we encounter at
least three Guelphites and a young man who seems very happy dancing
and singing off-key to our music. He tells Kate that he's "not drunk
or stoned - I'm just high on the music, man!" Tristan is very afraid.
We run into Kim from Green Pepperelli, a friend of Tristan's he met
with Flashlight in Montreal and who was also at NXNE, and eat some bad
Japanese food. We are being put up by yet another generous host, this
one a friend of Nick's who lets us take over his house as our base of
operation for two days.
Friday, June 28
We split up for the day, as we're reaching the point in the tour
where it's a good idea to start spending less time together. I
witness the splendour of Stanley Park, a place I would go to
every single day if I lived in this strangely beautiful city.
The show at the Railway Club is packed with Guelph expatriates,
and feels very comfortable. Garnet Harry from CBC Stereo's
RealTime is the bartender, Hardcore Logo author Michael Turner
shows up to talk to Nick, Veda Hille comes to talk to Spike
(they'll do some recording together tomorrow), and apparently the
singer from the Modernettes was there. We open for a band called the
Lonesome Canadians. Tristan thinks they have great lyrics; I'm too
bored by the music to notice. Very nice people, though.
Saturday, June 29
Bowen Island. Much of the Guelph contingent from the Railway Club
decides to follow us to this gig, held in the Legion Hall of this
beautiful island just north of Vancouver. To make a long story short,
our expenses almost outweigh the money we make, but the gig is worth
it. It's very strange to be on the other side of the country in a
small picturesque community (2,000 people) playing a gig with a group
of hometown punks chanting: "Go Guelph band! Go Guelph band! Go Guelph
band, go!" Some of the band embark on a late night adventure involving
narrow cliff ledges and the Pacific Ocean.
Sunday, June 30
Off to Victoria. Upon arriving, the sound guy at the club informs us
of our locale. "If you want hookers, go one block that way. If you
want drugs, go two blocks that way. If you want expensive call girls,
go a few blocks down that way." "What do I get by standing in this
parking lot?" Nick enquires. "A good spanking," is the response. We
were supposed to open for some Geffen band from L.A., who end up with
border trouble and can't make it. We suddenly become the headliner,
yet the promoter refuses to give us more money for playing twice as
long ... even though he just saved about $400- 500 by having his
headliner cancel on him. A rather drunken friend of Spike's makes it
his personal mission to harass every bar patron into buying
merchandise, although he ends up being less than successful. Tonight
we debut the electric version of "El Pescador," the Colombian folk
song (performed by Toto Y Momposina Y Sus Tambores on a RealWorld
album) that Spike has done for a couple of years and that Cabbage has
been doing in our busking set. Tony the soundman is quite taken with
us, and proceeds to lecture us (in a friendly, Melville-like fashion)
on what we should do from here, because we definitely "have it."
Monday, July 1
We've been staying with another ex-Guelphite, whose twin sister
still lives in Guelph and has come out to visit. We're also
joined by several of Spike's old high school friends, who
followed us here from Vancouver. The day is spent by the ocean,
skipping stones, gazing at hallucinatory clouds, and battling the
raging sea with thirty foot long kelp whips. We also eat at Pluto's,
which for my money has the best breakfast in Canada (now that I'm
somewhat qualified to judge). Tonight's show is at Harpo's, in what
will be the last show here under this name. Tomorrow they begin
gutting the inside and it will re-open in two weeks. At one point
we're accompanied by the Canada Day fireworks in Victoria Harbour, and
it's suddenly striking how far we've come across the country. Almost
as striking is the sight of our once-again drunken merchandise
salesman dancing with the cardboard cutout of Reba McEntire through
most of the show.
Tuesday, July 2
This is an gig outside a coffee house in Kamloops. They have a
full stage, lights and P.A. system set up, and we play three sets
while the staff pass a large hat around: highly professional busking.
We're threatened at one point by a fierce storm, but forge ahead
nonetheless. Dave delivers a great version of "Molly" as the mountain
winds howl through the tarps and the microphones. Kamloops is a town
not unlike Guelph; there appears to be a strong artistic community and
the people involved with this small espresso bar are great company and
generous hosts. Once again, a Guelph connection - two women visiting
from Jasper who buy our CD: one went to Laurier and has a sister who
works at an art supplies store in Guelph.
Wednesday, July 3
We decide to spend the day in Jasper, which by the time we get
there means walking down the main street, bumping into the women
from the night before, eating overpriced and unsatisfying Chinese
food, and heading to Hinton ("the Ingersoll of Alberta," says our
Jasper friend) as all the motels in Jasper are booked, and the rain
makes camping out of the question.
Thursday, July 4
The first of three Edmonton shows that will conclude our tour.
The City Media Club is a room not unlike a church basement or a
bingo hall; it obviously caters to a more upscale crowd, as the
management figured they could get away with charging $10 at the
door. People actually do come, and what's more they buy a lot of
merchandise. One 60+ couple dances furiously all night, providing
great inspiration for the rest of us. The MC for the evening is a
hilarious/annoying guy (depending on your point of view) who talks
aimlessly and endlessly about nothing much at all, really. It was
certainly the most entertaining introduction we've ever had.
Friday, July 5
Dave and I do an interview at CJSR at 10AM with a woman known as
Ramblin' Maria, who conducts the most intelligent interview we've had
to date (something I make sure to point out to her after). The
weekend's shows are at The Sawmill, a restaurant/pub that cates to the
yuppie crowd. Tonight we have the Friday night after-work crowd, who
surprisingly stick around until the end of the night (which we're told
is very unusual). We play very well, and the audience is very
enthusiastic. Afterwards we head back to MarlinSpike and sit around a
fire in the backyard with Terry Morrison and a bottle of gin. We later
discover that we kept Mike MacDonald, who lives next door, up all
night.
Saturday, July 6
We head back to CJSR one more time to play a radio session for
a show that's syndicated to campus stations across the country
(The Great Western Ballroom). We play horribly, but apparently
the interview afterwards with Spike, Kate and Tristan goes well.
Tonight, the last show of the tour, feels like exactly that.
We're all very tired from having played seven shows in the last
eight days - five of them involving three sets of music (we've
never had to play three sets of music once in Ontario!!) - and
the fact that Sheila has to miss the third set to catch a flight
home puts a damper on the rest of the evening.
For no logical reason, we load up on an unnecessarily large
amount of junk food before heading back to MarlinSpike for the
last night.
Sunday, July 7
We bid our farewells to the fantastic and generous people at
MarlinSpike, who've been instrumental in making our stay in
Alberta a memorable experience. We also say goodbye to Tristan,
who's staying in town until tomorrow to catch a flight home (he
starts work again on Tuesday), and to Kate, who landed a monthlong
job in Stony Plain (just west of Edmonton) and will be
staying behind.
That leaves six of us in the now-spacious van, and we're pretty
much going to drive straight back to Ontario, with a brief stop
in Brandon at the childhood farm home of Tannis Slimmon.
Dinner in Saskatoon.
Monday, July 8
Brandon's blown out as we decide to drive straight through.
Breakfast in Winnipeg.
There's really no reason to dally, and with the end in sight I
think we're all anxious to get home. Tensions are suprisingly in
check, although at one point when Spike insists on stopping the
van to take a picture of the Sasketchewan sky, one of the more
impatient of us asks, "Is he doing this because he knows it makes me
angry?" Dinner at a disgusting Pizza Hut in Schreider, Ontario.
Tuesday, July 9
We get pulled over near Sault Ste. Marie for no apparent reason.
The cop who stops us was wired ahead by another one, who probably
didn't like the way Sam looked behind the wheel. After a few basic
questions and all the necessary documents, we're let off. We catch the
9.30AM ferry on Manitoulin to Tobermory, which will shave off about
eight hours from the drive. We pick up Dave's daughter Emma near
Wiarton, where she was camping with her mother, and begin the final
stretch to arrive in Guelph at 4PM. So long, farewell, adieu. Rock and
roll can wait a few days, now. It's time to bathe, to rest, to eat.