“So you don’t like craft beer, eh?”
Every six weeks or so, I take a picture like the one below. Every time I do, Chris Funnell dies a little inside.
Chris Funnell is the manager of the Kooner Hospitality Group’s 16th Street Liquor Store in West Vancouver. Every time I see him, he has a new suggestion about a great new dish he discovered at a new eatery somewhere and exactly what beer or wine one should pair with it. Then, I’ll invariably make him cringe by telling him about the brawl I won to drink the last room temperature Pilsner at a house party I’d just returned from without my head ever hitting a pillow.
With this being the case, it seemed fitting that, when I arrived at The Pumphouse last Friday, he should be the first person I recognized. I’d never been to The Pumphouse before and I’d made the trip out to Richmond to attend a beer tasting hosted by Beerthirst and KHG. Beerthirst is the Jerry Maguire of the beer world; they’re agents for beer, a “conduit from the beer craftsman to the beer connoisseur.” Good people to know in my book. Chris sits with Rob Angus, Massey Tanaka (from Beerthirst), and company president, Norman Eng. They talk shop. We talk beer.
Chris has to leave early but before he goes, he looks me right in the eye, takes me by the shoulders, and says, “keep an open mind and enjoy the beer.” Shortly thereafter, Tony Iaci, the manager of The Pumphouse, arrives with an armload of beer which Rob and Massey start doling out to the group assembled.
Massey Tanaka serves the customers at the Moylan's Long Table Tasting
The food dish follows shortly, distributed by Tony and the charming serving staff of The Pumphouse. The first course is a charred romaine salad with candied pecans in an asiago dressing paired with a glass of Moylan’s Extra Special Bitter. The salad is very simple but very good. Whoever originally dreamt up the idea of putting romaine hearts on a open flame was a genius. Usually when lettuce gets warm it’s all limp and slimy because it’s on some half ass burger that’s been sitting under a heat lamp while the waitress finished her phone call. But this is very different. The charring brings out a sweetness in the lettuce I never knew existed and the Extra Special Bitter washes it down nicely.
The second course is a dry spiced pork loin served on couscous and it is insanely good. The Moylan’s Irish Style Red Ale is more to my liking than the Extra Special Bitter.
The third course is as simple as the first: prawns biryani with sauteed garlic spinach. It is almost a perfect curry. Just the right level of spice with large, perfectly cooked prawns and it all goes wonderfully with the Moylan’s India Pale Ale. The Pale Ale, on it’s own, was a little strong to my taste (PBR and Pilsner) but combines very well with the dish.
The dishes were prepared in The Pumphouse’s kitchen by Daniella Iaci (whom I believe to be Tony’s cousin). I don’t get a chance to meet her (she did come out to great the customers at the tasting later) as I was unable to stay for the last three courses The first three were enough to convince me that this is something I would certainly do again.
I thought of tastings as being a snobby affair with pretentious people telling you why your taste was “wrong”, etc; however, this experience was a friendly, casual one. The staff at The Pumphouse are a friendly bunch and the people I met from Beerthirst all seemed to be perfectly suited to an awesome job.
Both The Pumphouse and Beerthirst have coming events listings on their webpages and I recommend you attend a tasting. You’ll be glad you did. In the end, I certainly was. Like Chris said, “keep an open mind and enjoy the beer.”
The Long Table Tasting was a casual, unpretentious affair
The Pumphouse deserves kudos for a menu that was well planned, well executed, and well served
Anticipation grows as the first "taster" of the evening starts making the rounds
This is NOT a pub crawl
Okay, maybe a little. I prefer to think of it as a “leisurely cocktail walk“.
I have been blessed with many things in this life; a good cocktail bar was not one of them. Don’t get me wrong. I still love the Squarerigger Pub, my “local” (Crystal and Scott pour a mean “dirty”), and I will still go to pretty much any venue to see/hear good music but I wanted a cocktail bar, somewhere hip and cool and ridiculously overpriced. So last night, I started holding auditions.
5:30 pm – The Squarerigger Pub, 150-1425 Marine Drive, West Vancouver.
Beer. A pitcher of Sleemans Original $9.99. $13 after tax and 16% tip.
I like the Rigger. Anyone who knows me knows I spend most of my time out here. It’s a great place to watch a game and the downstairs section is just itchin’ to host your party. I recommend coming down during the day for a cup of coffee and annoying the manager, Scott, while he tries to get some work done. It’s my new favourite thing.
7:30 pm – George Ultra Lounge, 1137 Hamilton Street, Vancouver.
Aviation: Beefeater gin, maraschino liqueur and fresh lemon juice, served up and finished with violet liqueur. $11. $15 after tax and a 22% tip.
Essentially a Mike’s Hard Lemonade made with Gin. It is simple but good. It was also my server’s favourite.
I have no idea what an Ultra lounge is but whatever it is, I have a sneaking suspicion that George is it. The lighting is at the perfect setting for apres-business or pre-sex. Take your pick. The staff are all beautiful (women and men) and clad in black. It’s definitely Yaletown in here. As I continue to sip my cocktail (apparently in places like this, sipping is appropriate – not a lot of beerpong going on in here), it actually gets better. My heartburn doesn’t but that’s not the cocktail’s fault. The lovely Alexandra brings me my bill and I am off. I am coming back to be sure. George also gets an extra point because it is a chip shot away from my lawyer’s office. Always handy.
8:10pm – The Morrissey Pub, 1227 Granville Street, Vancouver.
Classic “dirty” martini. $12.05.
1516 beer. $5.50 (after tax)
$25 after tax and a 31% tip (and a free beer).
This one was a bit of a cheater. I’ve been here before and really quite like it. It really isn’t a cocktail place either. But that doesn’t stop them from serving some of the best martinis I’ve ever had. According to the bartender, they are more of a “beer and scotch” type place. And they’re pure rock and roll. You’re going to find more lip piercings and plaid in here than you would suits and Italian shoes. The stereo sounds like my iPod and the bartender is a slightly shorter, bearded version of Graham Myrfield in appearance and attitude. This is a good thing. I get the impression that a lot of the customers have forgotten more about Vancouver’s music scene than I’ll ever know and I have to stifle a sigh as the two lovely young ladies beside me drink Jameson’s with beer chasers… Honey, I’m home!
9:45ish pm – The Keefer Bar, 135 Keefer Street, Vancouver.
I don’t know. I just said “Dealer’s Choice” and got this: Famous Grouse scotch, sweet vermouth, artichoke vermouth, maraschino liqueur, with Peychauds and Angustura bitters. $12.50 after tax. $15 with 20% tip.
Now THIS is a cocktail. Plus service with a smile.
Now, for starters, the Keefer Bar is small. It’s cozy and great, but it’s small. If you plan on going there, go early. I meant to be there around 9:30 but the bartender at the Morrissey Pub queered the deal by comping me a beer. So I pour myself in at around 9:45ish and the place is packed. The burlesque show starts at 10. There is one empty stool at the bar. I asked if it’s being used and the woman kindly responds that she’s pretty sure it is but she’s not sure by who.
The MC takes to the stage. She cracks wise and plays some tunes to get the crowd primed. Lola Frost does her routine to Mancini’s “Pink Panther”. It’s killer. I think this is the third time I’ve seen Lola perform. The other two times, she was dancing with Villainy Loveless (as “The Switchblade Sisters”) as part of Shiloh Lindsey’s stage show. There was a routine with a wind-up doll that made me happy in all the right places. Good times. Great hootch and pasties? How can you go wrong? After the set, the woman I spoke to about the stool earlier comes over and tells me the stool is free. I thank her but tell her I’m quite enjoying being in everyone’s way. It was standing room only and the ladies on stage deserved it. So did the Wee Keefer for that matter. I chase my nameless-but-awesome cocktail with a Blue Buck lager and hit the streets once more.
11:05pm – Bus.
11:20pm – The Squarerigger Pub, 150-1425 Marine Drive, West Vancouver.
Beer. Sleemans Original. $6.15 with tax and 15% tip.
So I’m back at The Rigger for about five minutes when the wild & wonderful Miss Lori Roberge comes rumbling in. After surviving her harrowing drive across North America, she has returned to Vancouver only to have someone swipe her glasses. So if you know someone who frequents Darby’s Pub (2001 Macdonald Street, Vancouver) who suddenly has a new pair of glasses that look like these:
Kick some ass WITHOUT breaking the frames and let me know.
All in all it was a fun night. I’ll let y’all know when the next round of auditions is being held and we can go for a “leisurely cocktail walk” together.
A Fond Farewell
Last Friday at The Anza Club was a fitting send off for Vancouver’s SWANK! and the second of three of the Sound Lounge Presents Concert Series.
Let me start by saying this: Jonathan Todd is why I go to shows. When SWANK! played their first show ever, this troubadour was yet to be conceived, let alone born. I wouldn’t be surprised if told his frame is as big as it is to hold the heart that beats within. If you can imagine Gary Farmer with Bob Dylan’s hands and Rufus Wainwright’s voice, you’d be getting close. He plays a mix of originals and covers, covers which include a show stopping rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” that I have no problem telling you actually brought me to tears.
Listening to Jonathan Todd progress through the opening set was like finding a $20 bill in the pocket of a pair of jeans and then realizing it’s actually a cheque from Lotto BC for a couple million dollars.
Next to take the stage that evening was The Jardines. The Jardines are a country/folk outfit made up of the mother/daughter duo of Cherelle and Ajaye. Cherelle Jardine, along with Kirk Douglas, is one of the organizers of the concert series.
This is the first time I have seen The Jardines with the full 8-piece band. I had previously seen them perform as a duo at West Vancouver’s Harmony Arts Festival this past summer. My two favourite songs that day, “Addicted to the Burn” and “Neptune’s Daughter”, transform seamlessly into ballads adapted for the full band and are easily my favourites again. There was perhaps a bit too much chatter about the songs between the songs (I always prefer to let the song act as stories in and of themselves without added preamble), but the banter between Cherelle and Ajaye is also largely due to Cherelle and her daughter being able to share moments [on stage] that very few mothers/daughters can.
Finishing the evening (literally), Swank took the stage for their last show. After 18 years they’ve decided to go out on a high note. When not every heart beats in unison, it can only throw the music off, eventually. Swank are too good of musicians, too good of friends to ever let that happen. Thankfully Swank has left us with a lot to remember them by. In fact, the song, “Donkey Cart” off Campfire Psalms is on my shortlist of Best Songs of All Time, sharing shelf space with The Who, Judy Garland, and Kermit the Frog.
Swank’s stage persona always feels relatively light; they are all accomplished and serious musicians but Swank shows are/were always an equal mix of sheer talent and sheer joy to perform. That night was no different. Except for one thing… when it’s the last song, everyone dances just that little bit harder. During Swank’s set, Douglas Liddle and Dave Badanic carved into their guitars with no mercy. On the faster, “rockier” songs, I was transported to all the indie, all ages, church basement shows of my youth, when at 17 years old, I’d watched many a beaten, second-hand guitar hammer out the West Coast Garage sound with the fury of an avalanche.
Swank are just damn good and there’s no two ways about it or super-poetic way to put it otherwise.
Spencer McKinnon (vocals/harmonica) led the band through the set like a Southern Minister possessed by fire and brimstone, his pulpit a stage, his sermon a rock and roll revival meeting that had us all speaking in tongues. You can’t have fury without the thunder, supplied in abundant surplus by Phil Addington (bass) and Kirk Douglas (drums).
After the show, I grab the couch in the Sound Lounge’s control room for a quick nap. Douglas takes a moment to sit down before heading back next door to finish packing up the gear and Swank.
“That was a hard show to play,” he says, a wistful smile creeping up on his tired face.
I bet it was at that. It’s sad to see you go but it was indeed my pleasure to watch you leave.
Hair-brained Year-long Project #18284-F: The dress
Okay.
I have decided I am making a dress (not for me, thx).
I’ve always liked fashion. But I can’t sketch, stitch, cut, or sew.
I am starting from scratch. But with my library card, my passion for ridiculous ideas, and my mom’s sewing machine, I’m giving myself one year, 365 days, to design and make a dress. Why? Why the fuck not?
SWAN[K!] Song
When I was 15, I went to Europe with my parents. We took the “Grand Tour” and I found myself face to face with the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I also found myself in another of my bell-ringing arguments with my father. At the end of it all, stubborn and moody, I refused to climb the tower with the other tourists. A couple of years later, the tower was closed to the public for safety reasons and I had missed an opportunity that was truly once in a life time.
Twenty years later, I was at a sold out show at the Commodore. The Town Pants were having their first Boozapalooza to celebrate their 10 year anniversary as a band. I didn’t miss SWANK! that night; I kind of got so drunk that I forgot them. Unlike Pisa’s stone banana, however, it was an omission I could rectify.
Boozapalooza
The release party for Campfire Pslams remains the best album release party I have ever attended. The Railway club was filled with well wishing friends and partiers who got exactly what they came for. SWANK! played an acoustic set, followed by their friends singing karaoke versions of the songs from the new album (the karaoke disc came as an extra with the actual CD). The evening was capped off with SWANK! blowing the doors off the club in all their amplified glory.
SWANK! circa 1996
Why the nostalgia?
This Friday (Oct 1, 2010), SWANK! will play their final show. After 18 years of wearing out dancing shoes the world round, SWANK! are powering down the amps for the last time. They’ll be closing the second of the Sound Lounge Presents Concert Series with The Jardines and Jonathan Todd.
The Jardines will be playing with the full 8-person compliment on stage and Jonathan Todd, a stranger to me, who managed to wow the socks of Kirk Douglas recording at the Sound Lounge; not an easy task to be sure. It is destined to be an evening of Vancouver music legend.
In Ireland 2006
I lost my only chance to see Pisa from her leaning tower. I’ll be damned if I miss my last chance to see SWANK! perform as a band. For those of you who find this the first, last, and only chance to see SWANK!, do yourself a favour and head down to the Anza Club this Friday and write yourself into legend.
The Sound Lounge Presents
SWANK! w/
The Jardines & Jonathan Todd
Friday, October 1, 2010
The Anza Club
3 W 8th Ave
Vancouver, BC
(604) 876-7128
Tickets: $10
Repost: “Leave the Gun; Take the Cannoli”: The fun and foibles of live music
This entry was originally posted on the Baron S. Cameron Blog 13/11/2008. I was just giving it a read and thought I’d throw it back out there. BSC.
“Leave the gun; take the cannoli” is possibly the greatest throwaway line ever. Delivered beautifully by Richard S. Castellano, as the affable but deadly Peter Clemenza in The Godfather, I consider it to be one of the best lines in the history of American Cinema. But what does it mean, and, perhaps more importantly, why would I bring it up in an article about live music?
When Paulie, Vito Corleone’s ex-driver, is murdered, Clemenza and his cohorts don’t dwell on it. Paulie is never mentioned again except when Clemenza lets Sonny know that the job is done: “Paulie? You ain’t going to see him no more.” Essentially, the dirty work is behind them; they move on. The gun is the awfulness of the immediate past. The cannoli is the anticipation of a sweet future.
As a medium, live music can be as exciting as it gets. There is a thrill of instant creation, a rush. It may not easily liken itself to skydiving or bungee jumping, but there is still the anxious possibility of a moment of glory and, equally, of a mistake. Luckily for musicians, such mistakes are rarely physically fatal. The death of one’s career, however, is sometimes a very real possibility. Unlike NASCAR though, very few people attend live music shows just to see if someone fucks up; they go to see a performance. And, provided that the mistakes are small enough, people rarely notice them. It is usually the solo burden of the musicians who are often the only ones in the room who know that something has gone awry. They should never be too hard on themselves though. We, the audience, are waiting for the next note, and, perhaps more importantly, we are waiting for the musicians to supply it, which they won’t if they are dwelling on the note that didn’t quite make it.
It is physically impossible to play the same song twice performing live; humans are not exact enough to do it. Even if a song could be perfectly replicated, the live moment originally accompanying it would be gone. The art of creating is fleeting. The effect or result of the moment of creation can be recorded in some fashion (tape, canvas, ink) but the actual moment is gone forever. It is a point in a dynamic process that exists for an instant and is then disappears to whatever realm it was pulled from in the first place. Creation moves forward. Where we were is not as important as where we are going and this is why live music forgives our little mistakes: what’s done is done and rarely remembered as it actually happened. Humans are also pretty lousy recorders of history, especially when our passions are aroused. So unless the DAT’s rolling, don’t sweat it. This of course is not to say that a musician doesn’t need to try on the previous note, only to make it up to us with the next one – we’re talking about small mistakes here, not shoddy musicianship. Also, if you really can’t play, you’re doomed. “They suck” is a pronouncement more difficult to revise than “murderer” or “whore.” Changing a crowd’s mind is simple enough with some practice but getting a crowd out to see a band that “sucks” is nigh on impossible.
But the mistakes can be glorious too. Most scientific discoveries don’t happen with a “Eureka!” but with a “How the hell did that happen?” Take Radiohead’s “Creep” for example: the seemingly out of place guitar crunches before the chorus are, as guitarist, Ed O’Brien, explains, “the sound of Jonny [Greenwood] trying to fuck the song up.” In the final cut, however, it is Jonny Greenwood’s “fuck ups” that end up being the most memorable part of a very memorable song.
So here is wisdom: If you flub a note, don’t sweat it. We’re waiting for the next one. In short, “Leave the gun; take the cannoli.”
The Stumbler’s Inn, Shiloh Lindsey, and Melissa Mills open the “Sound Lounge Presents” live concert series.
The first thing you notice about talking to Kirk Douglas is that Kirk Douglas talks to you. His hand gestures are no surprise. He is a musician and, therefore, speaks what he truly feels with his hands more often than not. But when you sit across the table from him, his blue-grey eyes lock on you from behind conservative glasses and you know he is telling you the truth.
We chat at Sound Lounge Productions, the recording studio he built from scratch, by hand, with his wife and father-in-law. Recording studios are like Narnian wardrobes: an unassuming facade (usually cinder block) hides a world of magic within. The Sound Lounge is no exception. Douglas is a musician who knows the value of a dollar and the absolute necessity of honesty. The albums produced in his recording studio are evidence of that. As we spoke, I glanced around at the albums hanging on the wall.
“I have that one,” I think to myself. “And that one, and that one…”
A lot of amazing talent have sought out Douglas for his. He has a compilation album showcasing some of the musicians who have recorded at The Sound Lounge and tonight begins the first of “The Sound Lounge Presents” live concert series, three shows highlighting nine of the bands who have worked with Douglas.
Tonight The Stumbler’s Inn descend on the ANZA Club (3 West 8th, Vancouver) to release their new album, “Get It Right”. Recorded with Douglas at The Sound Lounge, “Get It Right” is a ten-song outing of pure Canadian music. It’s not blues, rock, or country but a well blended mix of all three. Alec Myrfield (vocals, guitar) pens tales, often sweeping or charmingly coarse. Once painstakingly arranged and orchestrated by the band, they finish as music best suited to grass underfoot than the stained hardwood of beer parlours.
Though there is no grass at the ANZA Club, it is a dance hall, and all the songs on “Get It Right” can be danced to. If they wanted to, The Stumbler’s Inn could play for over five hours and never play the same song twice. If your legs could take it, you could dance for all five hours.
Shiloh Lindsey returns to the ANZA stage having celebrated her album release for “Western Violence and Brief Sensuality” there in early June. If Lindsey is a songbird, she’s a hawk: Awesome to behold, soft to the touch, and equipped with talons that could rip your heart out without stopping for the ribs. I refer to her as music style as “Concrete Country” and to hear her play you’d know exactly what I meant.
Melissa Mills opens the evening with music from her recent release, “I Am Victorious”, recorded, of course, at Sound Lounge Productions and released June 4th, earlier this year. Her music is described as a “stunning, intricate tapestry with electronic, folk, and rock persuasions” and I for one cannot wait to see her play live.
The Sound Lounge Presents Concert Series #1
The Stumbler’s Inn with Shiloh Lindsey and Melissa Mills
Friday, August 6th at The ANZA Club, #3 West 8th, Vancouver, BC
For more music/musician related entries, please click HERE
Stumbler’s Week Part 4: Alec Myrfield
Who are you? Alec Myrfield
Where are you? at home
Primary instrument? guitar
The Stumbler’s Inn
First instrument? Sax
First public performance? Grade 6 band
Stage fright? No
Favourite show? Smokey and the Bandit
Least favourite music story? Emergenza
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? Biggy Smalls
Favourite band/musician (all time)? Stompin’ Tom Conners
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Living like a hermit on my private island
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Living like a hermit on my private island
The Stumbler’s Inn play Friday, August 6th, at The ANZA Club in Vancouver. It is the first of the “Sound Lounge Presents” concert series and the release party for their new album, “Get It Right”. Shiloh Lindsey and Mellisa Mills open.
For more music/musician related entries, please click HERE
Stumbler’s Week Part 3: Graham Myrfield
Who Are You? Graham Myrfield
Where Are You? The Milky Whey
Band? The Stumbler’s Inn
First Instrument? I started playing bass guitar and drums when I was 11 years old.
First Public Performance? I can’t remember a first show, but I know it wasn’t good, and I’m sure there were crying children.
Stage Fright? I become impatient before playing a show. I love playing music and need a lot of attention.
Favourite Show? My favorite show will always be the next one.
Least Favourite Music Story? Many moons ago when The Pic pub was still alive, the Stumblers and I had planned a CD release party. When we arrived to set up, they told us they were closed. Luckily in those years I was a drinker…hahaha
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? Elton John, Fishbone, The Kinks, Leonard Cohen, Madness, The mamas and the Papas, Paul Simon…. my ADD loves variety. My indie artist list is too long, and I listen to the radio too.
Favourite band/musician (all time)? I do not have an all time favorite, but what I like, I love.
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? My dreams for ten years from now are so large, words would not give them justice.
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Falling asleep in a bowl of cereal.
The Stumbler’s Inn play Friday, August 6th, at The ANZA Club in Vancouver. It is the first of the “Sound Lounge Presents” concert series and the release party for their new album, “Get It Right”. Shiloh Lindsey and Mellisa Mills open.
For more music/musician related entries, please click HERE
Stumbler’s Week Part 2: Jeff Myrfield
Who are you? Jeff Myrfield
Where are you? Vancouver
Primary instrument? Keys
Solo or in a band (include current or recent band name)? The Stumblers Inn
First instrument? Piano
First public performance? I think I was 10? It was a Royal Conservatory Recital. The first time we all were together as The Stumbler’s Inn, then known as The Stumbler’s Band, was at Malarky’s. It was a small cafe that doesn’t exist anymore in downtown Vancouver. The stage was about the size of a picnic table. Although the first time we all played together was in Chuck’s parents basement with another great friend of mine Kevin Dwyer who I personally consider the fifth Stumbler. He was the one who got us all together as a band known as 8-Track back in highschool.
Stage fright? Not really; more anxious to actually get on stage.
Favourite Show: There’s a few to choose from. There is the Meat Bird party’s where basically 250 – 350 people from Parksville/Qualicum area get together at a secret ranch while we plary and party it up from the evening to dawn. But I would have to choose the very first Green Mountain Festival in Nanaimo. Really any of the Green mountain Festivals were great but at the first one there was a massive jam with all the bands involved, Some of the bands aren’t with us anymore due to various reasons, Hotel Lobbyists, No Horses, and so that makes it even more special. Thank you very much James Wood for making all of that possible.
Least Favourite Show: We’ve played some great shows and some bad ones, where nobody but the bar staff were there, but this one takes the cake. We played a show at Richards on Richards once as a part of an Emergenza talent find/competition. We first met up with this group already thinking that it was a scam but really what did we have to lose. When you’re starting out you want exposure from anywhere. Plus to get to that show you had to go through a couple lesser shows and try to sell off as many tickets as possible. I can understand that. I have a little bit of a harder time coming to terms with not seeing any of the money from any of the tickets that you sold to come to a show that you’re performing at but such is the business. So, anyways, at the Richards on Richards show. The way to move on to the “next round”, another show at another location, was explained to us as the band who drew the most appeal. E.I. the loudest or most appeal from the audience. So ya, there was a couple bands there, all the leading candidates from the previous preliminary rounds, and the stumble fans were in full force. The other bands had brought all their representative fans as well. All different styles of bands from heavy metal to pop punk, to even glam metal. I’m not going to slam any of the other bands because that’s not what it was about. It wasn’t a “my band is better than your band deal” because every band was different and who’s to say what style is better anyways? But I will say that when we hit the stage there wasn’t anyone sitting down. Chants of “Stumbler” were ringing from the crowd. No other band had as much reaction. When we were done the other bands were coming up to us and conceding victory. So what happened? Well of course we didn’t make it though. The “judges” picked a band, even though they said it was up to the audience, that was more to their liking shall we say. They were a band that was easily manipulative and their sound was pretty generic of course. The company kept all our money and any investment we made into them. Of course. That’s what made it the worst. Now here’s the kicker, and this reaction may have vaulted it into one of the better shows. When the final results were announced (everyone was chanting “Stumbler” by the way) they declared the other band the winners. What happened next was pure anarchy and it all started from one chair being thrown from the balcony at the stage. After that chair took flight several more followed. It was a gong show riot. No violence towards each other but directed purely at the stage. The promoters made a mad dash to leave, with all their money of course, leaving the small group of bar staff to fend off the crowd. There was maybe one bouncer and maybe two female bartenders. The bar destined to close that year was trashed. No joke!
Least favourite music story? There’s a few, The George Harrison, my sweet lord, court case is one. Agreeing with that verdict is saying that the doo wop sound is only the Chiffons to own. Also the Payola scandal, not like it doesn’t go on still, disgusts me.
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? I’ve been listening to a lot of stuff the past little while. New bands I’m listening to: Black Keys, Aggrolites, Shiloh Lindsey. I have a multiload of various artists on my playlist but those are some of the more recent artists.
Favourite band/musician (all time)? The Beatles go without saying, think everybody has them down don’t they? My first rock album was AC/DC’s ”High Voltage”, also big influences Floyd, Doors, CCR, Stones, Rush. Tons more I could write out. I would like to mention one of the great piano players of all time though, Fats Waller; the guy was a genius and played in a time where his genius was overlooked. I don’t know if I would be the same person if I hadn’t been brought up listening to his music.
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Hopefully playing music and getting paid for making albums
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Playing music, and making albums. Making a living off of it is still up in the air.
The Stumbler’s Inn play Friday, August 6th, at The ANZA Club in Vancouver. It is the first of the “Sound Lounge Presents” concert series and the release party for their new album, “Get It Right”. Shiloh Lindsey and Mellisa Mills open.
For music/musician related entries, please click HERE
Stumbler’s Week Part 1: Kevin “Chuck” Dupuis
Kevin “CHUCK” Dupuis
Vancouver B.C. , Canada
Drums, Percussion
Stumblers Inn
First Instrument? Euphonium, school band
First Performance? School and mall performances
Stage Fright? All the time
Favourite Show? Green Mountain Music Fest
Least Favourite Music Story? It involves the Backstage lounge, G-spot and Projectile Vomitus
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? Dan Carey, Tool
Favourite band/musician (all time)? “Bonzo” Bonham
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Here, rich, playing live all the time
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Here, poor, playing live all the time
The Stumbler’s Inn play Friday, August 6th, at The ANZA Club in Vancouver. It is the first of the “Sound Lounge Presents” concert series and the release party for their new album, “Get It Right”. Shiloh Lindsey and Mellisa Mills open.
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Musician Profile: Sonny Dean
Name: Sonny Dean
First instrument? The recorder!
First public performance? Valleyview Public School Talent Show in Strathroy, Ontario ’75 or ’76, not sure, but I was in kindergarten.
Stage fright? No way! I loved it!
Favourite show? Nov.6/87 @ the Confederation Centre of the Arts in Charlottetown, PEI with Street Urchin!
Least favourite music story? Street Urchin’s first gig at Skate Country in Charlottetown,PEI Boxing Day ’86!
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? Iron Maiden
Favourite band/musician (all time)? Randy Rhoads
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Happy!
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Wealthy & living in North Van!
Next gig? Rickshaw Theater July 24/10 with the Little Guitar Army!
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Musician Profile: Doug Smith
Name: “Dusty” Doug Smith (Little Guitar Army)
First instrument? I played piano (classical, conservatory) at around 9 years old, but started singing in punk bands in 1979.
First public performance? Lots of classical and school choir, but first public punk rock performance was at the Smiling Buddha in Spring 1980.
Stage fright? I get nervous as hell but once I am on stage I am comfortable and ready to rock.
Favourite show? Lots…Oct 9/10 1981 opening for Subhumans, filmed by BCTV. Some great shows with artists like the Bad Brains, Damned, Stiff Little Fingers, You Am I (awesome Aussie band) The Dead Kennedys, Offspring, L7, Rich Hope, the Pack AD, etc…
Least favourite music story? About me? The email firing form the Beladeans, perhaps.
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? The Pretty Things circa 1965 and Bowie circa 1971-73, Magazine, Otis Redding and James Carr.
Favourite band/musician (all time)? too tough…wayyyyyyy too tough.
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Alive.
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Fuck, I hope it is alive.
Next gig? July 24th – Ron Reyes (ex Black Flag) turns 50….wicked show at the Rickshaw with the Jolts – Ron Reyes Band (ringers) – Modernettes – Little Guitar Army – I, Braineater @ The Rickshaw.
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The History of the Hipster
The common mosquito, in its current form, is over 95 million years old. Despite its many eons of bothering the hell out of others and the sad truth that it probably isn’t going to go away any time soon, we still feel the need to complain about it, them. This is not hard to believe of course; they are annoying as hell and generally don’t provide a whole lot in return. Some would argue the same could be said of hipsters. I’m deciding. Granted they haven’t been around for 95 million years. Contemporary hipsters can be traced back a decade or so. But, as I will explain, there have always been hipsters, the parasitic culture gentrifier.
A Time article, written almost a year ago to the day, outlines the modern hipster. Dan Fletcher describes them as “smug, full of contradictions and, ultimately, the dead end of Western civilization.” This may be a bit harsh, but it’s not the first time it has been said.
Herb Caen, a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, coined the term “beatnik” in 1958. Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg were not amused. If you read the Beat writers’ work, you’d know they almost always had jobs and worked very hard to play very hard. Kerouac was admitted to Columbia on a football scholarship, a strange crossover for the King of the Beats. They did not create a scene, but drew attention to it. This is the invitation, the opening of the door that beckons to all the hipsters. In a letter to the New York Times Ginsberg wrote, “if the beatniks and not the illuminated Beat poets overrun this country, they will have been created not by Kerouac but by industries of mass communication which continue to brainwash men.” When Ginsberg wrote of “Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,” I suspect he was referring to those who came before, those who were the scene, not the ones who made it. Even the French Revolution was going along swimmingly until Maximillien Robespierre hijacked the Committee for Public Safety and kind of ruined it for everyone. Hipsters have existed everywhere.
The term “hip” is from the jazz clubs of the 30s and 40s. Before that, the etymology becomes a little hazy. Suffice it to say, to be “hip” meant that you were in the know. To be “in the know” now is not very difficult, especially in the digital age, when music and image are swapped like so many hockey cards. I think what angers a lot of people is that the hipster culture isn’t a culture; it’s a flea market where culture is bought and sold. Fletcher writes, “…instead of creating a culture of their own, hipsters proved content to borrow from trends long past.” Indeed. I once had a 15 year old kid tell me that I was responsible for Kurt Cobain’s death because I “didn’t appreciate him.” I didn’t have a calendar on hand, but simple math revealed that he would have been two years old when we killed Cobain and not even an egg-seeking sperm when “Bleach” was released. That’s probably why I don’t remember seeing him at a show.
You would never go to the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C. dressed as a veteran if you were born in 1987. The Black Label Society had to cancel a show in Manchester because of threats of violence from a local motorcycle club. The club argued that BLS’s use of “rockers” on their jackets was an insult to any 1%er who’d actually earned them.
So is there anything actually wrong with a parasitic subculture intent on the lifelong search for cool? If there is, I blame Henry V. His Saint Crispin’s day speech called out all the “gentlemen in England now abed” and called their “manhoods cheap.” Essentially, if you’re not at the party, if you’re not hip, you suck and should think yourself “accursed.” Maybe that’s a bit of stretch. We are a society of consumers, of course, but cultures are supposed to produce as well. The true danger of a parasitic culture is not what it feeds on but how it feeds.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, a sentiment first expressed in the 3rd century BC by some Greek guy, then it doesn’t actually exist except in the abstract. We must see it for it to exist. This would also imply we should look for it. But if our search only extends as far as what someone else has told us is beautiful, the buck stops at the “industries of mass communication” Ginsberg railed against.
Candace Pert was responsible for discovering the opiate receptor in the human brain. In a 1981 interview with OMNI she stated, “Heroin bludgeons the opiate receptors into submission, functionally shrinking them.” In other words, if we keep outsourcing our opiates (she also stated that most drugs have less potent, natural analogs within the human body) our bodies can lose the ability to use our own; if we never leave the house, we become dependent on the deliveryman. This is the danger of the cool-seeker who doesn’t actually look. Hunter S. Thompson takes a similar stab at Leary’s Acid Culture in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, calling them “a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture.”
I too am a cool seeker. I too am a hipster in some aspects. But I want to believe that I replace that which I mine from the depths of culture in equal measures. I write about culture and society not to hand down truth from on high but to inspire you to take up the search as well. As Shakespeare wrote in Love’s Labour’s Lost, “Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye, / Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues.”
So we continue to swat at the hipsters buzzing around us. They’re not going anywhere though so get used to them. As for yourself, art can be art for art’s sake but cool shouldn’t be cool for its own sake. Cool is the blind faith of the unoriginal. At least that’s what I heard.
Musician Profile: Kalvin Olafson
Kalvin James Richard Olafson was born and raised on a farm just outside of Morden, MB, about two hours south of Winnipeg, but calls Vancouver home as an adult. He plays guitar, but mostly a 1971 Ibanez electric and Ovation acoustic but owns several others. He’s in the Vancouver Based band MINTO.
First instrument was the piano which I gave up unfortunately to play baseball I was 8.
First public performance as an ensemble was a music version of the little mermaid. Solo, was playing a song I wrote in a coffee shop at 15.
First Minto (formerly The Smokes) show was at the media club opening for my first solo album I think or it was at the Astoria in 2003.
Stage fright: not anymore unless I’m playing for family.
Favourite show I have a few… Saskatoon at Lydia’s Pub: we didn’t know what to expect but the place was sold out and we played our entire catalogue three times and repeated three songs it was a blast!
My favourite band right now is Monsters of Folk and Huron/Ian Blurtons happy ending. I can’t stop listening to their albums on repeat.
Favourite live performance in the last year was Fucked Up.
All time favourite bands would be The Band/Rolling Stones/Beatles in that order.
Ten years from now I will be touring the world with Minto working on our 4th album and dating super models.
Ten years from now (probable answer) I will be touring North America with minto working on our third album dating cougars.
Next gig is June 24 at Brixx in Edmonton, followed by The U of C on the 24th (@ 2pm) and Banff at The Devils Gap (@ 8pm) also on the 24th, and the Hi Fi Club in Calgary on the 26th. For more tour info and dates click HERE
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Two Weeks of Vancouver Fun: Femke van Delft, The Pack AD, and Shiloh Lindsey
I wish I could tell you I’ve been really busy but, truth be told, I’ve just been sluffing off, watching TV, and gaining weight. Joy. The last two weeks have actually brought a few things that I should have been writing about so I will do that now.
Thursday before last (June 3rd), I was at the Railway Club for the opening party of Femke van Delft’s exhibit, “The F-Stops Here”. If you couldn’t figure it out from the clever title, it’s a photography exhibit, specifically concert/live shots.
Femke is the first to say hello when I get there. We take a moment to remind each other where we know each other from (standing too close to the Railway Club stage on a few occasions) and she thanks me for coming. Femke works the room, saying hello to anyone and everyone who doesn’t say hello first, with the self-deprecating yet strangely confident air of an artist. Later on, she sits with me (while her salmon burger gets cold), flipping through a portfolio of her work. Her photos require little or no explanation but the little stories behind the photos are great. These are the pictures I want to take. They are not just a case of access; she certainly has an eye for this. Paparazzi in LA get paid for badly framed pictures of Jennifer Aniston buying sandals whereas photogs like Femke don’t get paid for taking amazing shots of not-so-famous people doing what they do best. It is a real shame. That’s why it is so good to see local talent have nights like this. It’s a chance for friends, acquaintances, and strangers to get a first hand look at how good they really are. A friend had gone to see Ricky Powell at the Fortune Sound Club the night before and said he was a drunken, stuck up mess. Femke is by no means sober; this is her party and she enjoys it. Unlike Powell, however, when she gets up to address the crowd, she is funny, welcoming, and above all gracious.
Femke introduces the first musical act for the evening, Alexa Bardach (who also plays guitar for the East Vamps). I have no idea what to expect when the music starts and my first reaction is, “Oh… Okay.” To me it’s not so much music in the “record store section” sense; it’s more of a sound poem or picture. It’s about choices: why this sound with that effect. If you surrender to it, and just let it be what it’s going to be, it washes over you like a warm wave and is nearly trance inducing. I would be very interested to watch (hear) the process of putting this piece together. I assume it might be like my afternoon sessions in my kitchen, playing with tastes in a dress rehearsal, a week or so before the dinner party, finding what does or doesn’t fit together. It’s cool stuff.
I wish that I could stay longer but I must be off. I say goodnight to Femke and give her my congratulations again. We promise each other it won’t be another six months before we see each other again.
Friday (June 4) finds me sucking back cheap cans of PBR at The Biltmore Cabaret waiting for The Pack AD to take the stage. The Biltmore is sold out tonight and slowly begins to fill. For those of you who still haven’t made it out to The Biltmore for a show, for gawd’s sake, go! It’s still dark and downstairs but by no means the cesspool dungeon it used to be. It is a venue with a bar, not a bar with a stage.
The Pack AD start their set around 9:45. They’re awesome, okay? I’ve seen them play a few times and they keep getting better, closer, tighter. I know what you’re thinking but your wrong. The more a band plays is not always a guarantee that they’ll get better. I’ve actually seen bands that get worse the longer they play. I once said before that where most people eat, sleep, and drink, “The Pack AD tour.” It’s true and their stage act has been honed into a well-oiled but thunderous Rock ‘n’ Roll machine. They have a new album out, We Kill Computers, and the new songs are awesome.
Watching these ladies play live is something of a marathon. Maya’s kick drum and snare work alternately as artillery and infantry and get right into your skull. And I’m still trying to imagine how such a large sound (guitar & vocals) manages to erupt from such a slight package as Becky Black. Becky, I’m certain, is the reason sound guys/gals bolt their gear into racks. Every compressor in the room wants to run for cover when Becky leans into the mic and gets ready to let loose. The Pack AD slay and there are no two ways about it.
Again, I have to ditch before The Sadies play. It’s nothing personal of course. If it weren’t for my ongoing battle with North Shore buses, I’d of stayed to catch what I’m assured would be an awesome set.
After a less-than-entertaining downtown footrace, I manage to catch my bus at the last possible stop because a couple of tourists don’t take the driver’s word for it that the fair box doesn’t accept bills. My favourite part of the night? Sprinting, two steps at a time, up the immobile centre escalator at the Granville Skytrain station (yeah, that one) and still missing my freakin’ bus by 30 damned seconds.
The next few days pass uneventfully except for painting a bar one night. Let me tell you: beers, shots, and wood stain make for one hell of a hangover.
Thursday (June 10) and I’m back on Main Street headed to the Anza Club to see Shiloh Lindsey play for her record release party.
Eldorado kicks off the evening with a great set. I’ve missed seeing them by five minutes a few times. Tonight I arrive early enough to make sure I see the whole thing. I’m glad I did. The music is fun. Now, I don’t mean “fun” in the “church groups wearing matching shirts singing Jesus camp songs” fun. I mean put a smile on your face and enjoy your life fun. The bass player is so relaxed he reclines on a stool. That’s what it looks like until I kick myself for not noticing he’s got a broken foot. Yay me. By the end of the set I have convinced myself I’m in love with Angela Fama.
SWANK! takes the stage as The Swank String Band. Kirk Douglas makes his way out from behind the drum kit and joins the rest of the boys of the front line. It’s a loose but energy packed set. Swank are incapable of “phoning in” a set; they’re too good to be bad. But with all the smiling and impromptu banter going on, one soon gets the impression that The Swank String Band are here tonight to have a great time with their friend Shiloh on her big night. If you’re looking for one hell of a party, make sure SWANK! rsvp’s. If you’re looking for the best damn campfire sing-a-long known to human existence, invite The Swank String Band. Also, for the record, Bone Rattle Music is not the place to go to swipe sunglasses if you’re so inclined.
Earlier in the evening, I hear Shiloh discussing “the dress” and whether or not she’s going to wear it tonight. She wears it. It’s a beauty and a throwback to the days when Country & Western music had royalty, unlike the jesters that seem to be holding court these days. Shiloh’s set is the best I’ve heard from her, and that is saying something. Shiloh’s voice has always been able to cut through me and tonight is no exception, but there is a point in “Figurines of Faith” where her voice takes a tone I haven’t heard before. One name jumps to mind: Melanie Safka. Yes, she’s the one who sang that ridiculous “Rollerskates” song, but I’m thinking more of the deep tones of “Candles in the Rain” here.
Up until tonight, I would never heckle Shiloh onstage, but after watching how a rowdy “fan” was wrestled into submission by The Switchblade Sisters (burlesque performers Villainy Loveless and Lola Frost), I’m seriously considering it. Shiloh uses the comedic interlude to change into the more recognizable jeans and western dress shirt. She apologizes that the costume change took longer than expected and explains, “There’s boys in there,” with a nod over the shoulder to the backstage area.
The rest of the set is pure Western romp. James Wood and Graham Myrfield join Shiloh on stage to sing background on “Tired of Drinking” and Chad Taylor lends his trumpet (which any Ennio Morricone fan can tell you most certainly is a western instrument) to add the ghosts to “Head In My Grave”.
The Switchblade Sisters make another appearance and I can’t figure out why, as I look at the rear display on my camera adjusting the settings, my auto-focus servo continually whines as it locks and unlocks, until I look up and see two sets of pasties swirling in front of the stage. I can understand why the camera can’t focus as I seem to have the same problem at the moment. I think I just fell in love again. Sorry Angela.
I hit the road after Shiloh’s set (apologies to Rich Hope). Us West Vancouver boys don’t turn into pumpkins at midnight but our buses sure as shit do. As I walk down Main Street towards the Skytrain station, I ask myself the same question I always ask on this particular and all too familiar walk: Why the hell don’t I just bite the bullet and move out here?
It is certainly food for thought.
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Musician Profile: Kirk Douglas
Name: Kirk Douglas (SWANK, Shiloh Lindsey Band, The Jardines)
First instrument? Guitar
First public performance? Sherwood Heights Jr. High School, May 1983, Sherwood Park, Alberta
Stage fright? Not normally, but my first show I was terrified.
Favourite show? hmmmm… Very Hard to say but 1982, Kingsman Field House, Edmonton Alberta… Girlschool, Iron Maiden, The Scorpions…. the Scorpions were in “Pods” at the beginning of the show…. just like Spinal Tap. I can’t remember if the show was any good, but the dry ice and “Cocoons” were very memorable.
Least favourite music story? Van Halen, 1984…. I was wondering why I spent the money on the ticket…. they were awful.
Favorite band/musician (at the moment)? Too many to single out just one… love local music.
Favorite band/musician (all time)? Les Paul…. he still blows my mind.
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Making, playing, recording, and producing music.
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? Making, playing, recording, and producing music.
Next gig? June 10th, Anza Club, Shiloh Lindsey CD Release show, with Rich Hope, Eldorado and SWANK.
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My Country ‘Tis of Thee: In the studio with Shiloh Lindsey
Somewhere in Nanton, AB, a cowboy is without his hat. I know where it is. Well, that is to say, I know who has it. And from what I’ve heard, she more than deserves it.
If you ever visit Nanton, you’ll find the Auditorium Hotel, “The Odd” to the locals. It is filled with stuffed animals (taxidermy, not Care Bears) and old logging and farm tools. It smells dusty along with the combined homey bar smells: spilled beer and cleaning products. Built in 1902, it supplies its patrons with “cozy rooms, [...] home-style meals, and regular live music.” On a Thursday night in 2009, Shiloh Lindsey was the live music. Towards the end of the night, a local cowboy apparently took exception to Lindsey’s urbanized cowboy hat and insisted she take his. The locals were shocked. His daughter could not believe her eyes. From what I understand, the act was analogous to Clint Eastwood handing over his Navy Colt to an up and coming gunslinger.
How do I know this? I asked.
Sitting in Kirk Douglas’ studio, Sound Lounge Productions, I ask Shiloh how her brand of Country Music was received in those places where you still find more cows than concrete. She answers with the story about a hat, its brim worn down in the spot where a real cowboy tipped it with his work-stained hands to countless passing ladies over the years.
It makes perfect sense to me. When Lindsey sings, she sucks you right in. There is an honesty in her songs that is absent from a lot of music today. This is not a deliberate attempt to fight against what Lindsey and Douglas refer to as “the machine,” that place where some music originates where there is “no real honesty.” I say that this isn’t deliberate in the same sense that breathing air into your lungs is deliberate; it just has to happen. Lindsey writes from a place where her music could not exist without its inherent honesty. Honesty is the quantum particle Lindsey’s music is built from.
We break to listen to a track from the new album. “Six 6ft Skids” is a piece of pure Concrete Country. Listening to the song, I am transported back to the night I first stumbled west down East Hastings after ingesting too much of too much. The lyrics relate a humorous story we can all understand even if the chorus, “Six 6ft skids,” is slightly cryptic. I ask Lindsey about the meaning of the chorus (pounded out in gang vocals by some of the local lads) and she smiles. If you didn’t already know, you never would. Suffice it to say, if you’ve ever worked in a liquor store, you’d get it. The song itself, feels a little disjointed after the first chorus, but as it settles on you, everything falls into place, literally. I ask Lindsey and Douglas about this and we start discussing how Shiloh “build[s] a song.”
For Shiloh, song writing is therapeutic and cathartic. It starts with “writing out some stuff,” progresses through the “talking and therapy” stage, and finishes with “a whole box of Kleenex” sitting empty in a corner of the studio. Despite having all the raw emotion of the average 14 year old’s first attempt at Emo poetry, Lindsey’s lyrics and music aren’t weepy or self-pitying. Other than the obvious difference in talent, Lindsey’s writing differs from overwrought, teenage angst partly because she’s not an angst-ridden teenager, but mostly because she doesn’t want you to feel sorry for her. She’s not looking to bring you down; she’s just telling you a story. If she hits a nerve it’s because all of us can place ourselves in her shoes, no matter what size we wear. This is the sign of a true songwriter: someone who pours so much emotion and honesty into a song that the song in turn draws an equal amount from the listener.
Listening to another track on the album, I am struck again by another component of Lindsey’s music: her delivery. I first heard it in “Whiskey and Rum” on her first album. Sometimes, she rambles. A lot of singers pain themselves to enunciate every damn word. When we’re upset or excited, we don’t break off into a pseudo-Shakespearean soliloquy; we ramble. She vocalizes emotion and it adds to your overall experience. All this is also part down of her stripped down approach to recording. “We wanted it raw,” is how she explains the mindset for recording her latest album. When you see her play live, how she could walk into a studio with anything but raw, is a mystery.
The next time Shiloh and I meet, we’re at The Five Point on Main Street. I known her for a few years, seen her live more times than I can count, and sat in with her working in the studio but this is the first time Shiloh and I have ever sat down and just talked about nothing. As the conversation, and beer, progresses, we share stories we’d never have expected.
Far be it for me to ever view Country Music from an existentialist’s point of view but I think I’m about to.
There have been moments in Shiloh’s life that were anything but happy. I won’t get into details as they really aren’t mine to share, but I will say the honesty and emotion in her music now have a genesis as far as I’m concerned. But rather than shy away from the stories of her past, she writes and records them for us. She doesn’t ask for your sympathy but just hands you a note for you to read and pocket.
I brought my camera today to take pictures for this article but don’t. Once you start chatting with Shiloh, you find you don’t really want to do anything else. We take a small tour of the neighbourhood, including a stop at her job, The Brewery Creek Liquor Store, where we restock for our travels. We end up back at her place, where we keep talking about everything and nothing. One of the boys formerly of No Horses is on his way over for rehearsal and I find myself taking pictures of everything, everything but Shiloh. She’s a beautiful young woman but conversation supersedes image until she finds a book of old poetry. It’s that book of old poetry, the one every writer has sitting around somewhere and is always embarrassed to find. She flips it open and starts reading. My shutter finally clicks. No posed picture could ever tell you who Shiloh Lindsey is but when I catch her flipping through a book of old poetry, she is just a human who loves life and words and has this amazing talent to share them with all of us.
The release of Shiloh’s new album, Western Violence and Brief Sensuality, is Thursday, June 10 at the ANZA Club (3 West 8th, Vancouver, BC).
Stay-cation Vancouver Adventure: Main Street
Spring time, rain in the city. Sky’s real grey and the weather is shitty. Sorry, I’ve been singing that song in my head for a week now and felt compelled to share it with you. So it’s Saturday and time for another Jane Sawyer Vancouver Adventure. She has four suggestions: Go to the Roedde House for tea and a tour, The “Towns” (Gas, China, Tinsel), a hike to a 1910 Japanese logging camp in the Seymour Valley, or a “full scouring of Main Street from Broadway to 25th”. I opt for Main Street. I strap on my low-cut white Chucks, sling my camera, and don my “Writer” hat (It’s not a hat for writing; that would be weird. It’s a hat that says, “Writer”. Perhaps presumptuous, but it was a gift and I love it).
The day gets off to a typical Baron start when I can’t find Jane. In a farce that Shakespeare could not have envisioned, Jane tries to talk me in on my cell phone. We’re never more than about 20m apart, but we’re just looking in opposite directions.
“No, I’m AT 7th… Well, closer to 8th. An antique store? No… By ‘brickish coloured’ do you mean a brick building? Wait… No, I don’t see it. Wait, there’s a cafe. That one? Fuck… I’m on Kingsway.”
I glance over my shoulder and she’s in a cafe across the damn street, looking west.
gene – 2404 Main Street (@ 7th)
Coffee (and or tea) always figures quite handily in our Van-ventures. Coffee has been slowly creeping back into my life. During this creep, the word “Macchiato” has played a larger and larger role. It’s time to try one. Awesome. Jane sits across the table from me with a veritable bucket o’coffee, and it sit with my wee cup of pure coffee essence.
Jane flags a passing friend and he joins us. On our last Van-venture, I met Bruce. Today, it’s Phil. Phil has a guitar company, Liquid Metal Guitars, and his mission today is to get rid of some books. He’s having limited success at the moment. We chat about The Sadies, The Pack A.D. (playing together @ The Biltmore on Friday, June 4th), and Mexican poet, Octavio Paz. Phil is suddenly intrigued by Paz, which takes all three of us to the next stop on my Main Street adventure.
pulp fiction – 2422 Main Street
Those of you who know me might think that if I knew someone who owned a bookstore, I’d be there everyday bugging the hell out of them, right? Wrong. I’ve known Christopher Brayshaw for over 30 years. This may or may not count considering I haven’t actually seen him in over 20. It’s good to finally see him again after all this time. He’s a bit surprised to see me because he expected me to be in LA. We’d spoken over Facebook a few times in the last little while. I tell him the story of why I’m not in LA and it is a story that the owner of a store called “pulp fiction” can truly appreciate. Phil goes off in search of Paz, Jane heads for the novels, and I just stroll. Don English, another friend I haven’t seen in a very long while, pops in and we chat.
By this time, I’ve latched on to The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby by Tom Wolfe. I suggest Richler’s Cocksure for Jane, its cover emblazoned with a giant, um, rooster? This is the beginning of an internalized joke that will almost get me hit by a car in two hours.
A Baker’s Dozen Antiques – 3520 Main Street
When you’re walking with Jane and she says, “Oooooh!”, listen. This is one of the neatest stores I have ever been in. If you’re searching for a key to a Narnian wardrobe, you’d probably find it here. They have nick knacks, paddywhacks, a few dogs, and more than a couple bones. I think “cool shit” sums it up. Check this place out.
As we walk along, we pass a store that sells “gifts for the globally minded.” It’s empty. Deserted. Departed. Gone. I guess if you’re globally minded, you’re shit out of luck.
The Regional Assembly of Text – 3934 Main Street
This place is pretty fricken’ cool. If you’re a girl. Don’t get me wrong, I like girls, and there was more than a couple things I considered buying in here, the “I ♥ typewriters” button being at the top of the list. This is another “Jane” store, in fact she wanted to work there and one point. The stuff she sends me in the mail makes me smile and I’m sure a lot of it started in here. But, for me, apart from the actual typewriters (they have a letter writing club that meets the first Thursday of every month), there’s not a whole lot here for me. It is amazing handcrafted stuff, just not my cup of tea. However, if you have a crafty, letter writer on your gift list, this store is an absolute must.
We cross the street and start heading north again.
Chocolaterie de la Nouvelle France – 198 East 21st Avenue
Chocolate isn’t really my thing but this place smells AMAZING. Jane buys a couple pieces of handmade chocolate. One of them is cardamom. More on that later. They have a cayenne pepper truffle. It is very tempting but I resist.
Neptoon Records – 3561 Main Street
There is nothing I can say about Neptoon Records that hasn’t been said already. Suffice it to say, you should go there, often.
Alexander Lamb Antiques & The Exotic World Museum – 3271 Main Street
Okay. You open the door and Lamb is standing there: waxed moustache, ascot, and beret. He is sociable and polite but I have the sneaking suspicion that if he ever asked me if I wanted to see something “really cool,” I’d probably say “no.” There is a lot of cool stuff in his store but the “museum” at the back is amazing. The ashes of the store’s founders sit in their urns on a shelf surrounded by pictures of eccentricities from around the world. Wherever adjectives like “deepest” and “darkest” are used, there’s a picture of it on the wall. If there was anywhere in Vancouver to buy a Mogwai (well, outside of Chinatown), it would be here. Definitely a stop to be made.
Before we pop into the Brewery Creek Beer & Wine to see if Shiloh is working, Jane pops her cardamom chocolate into her mouth. It’s not the happiest I’ve ever seen her. She never gets to the Bill the Cat “Ack!” stage, but cardamom flavoured, French chocolate is now officially off her list of things she wants to try.
We part ways at 14th. Jane heads across the street to JJ Bean to refill and plan the rest of her afternoon and I continue back down Main and into the city. As promised, I almost get hit by a car taking this picture:
I just thought the juxtaposition of “Temple of the Modern Girl” right next to a giant, um, rooster was worth almost getting hit by a car.
Farther down Main, I pass a gallery and stop at an Angela Fama picture (part of her Mirrorface exhibit) that I am certain is Julie Bavalis, Parlour Steps‘ bass player (among other things, I’m sure). After deciding that if it isn’t Julie, it sure looks like her, I continue on the the Skytrain station at Main and Terminal.
*Though it has nothing to with Main Street, I was hardly surprised to find that the escalator at the Granville Skytrain station is still out of commission. That damn thing is quickly becoming the Gulf Spill of escalators and I wonder if it will ever be fixed. I also snapped the picture below because I just could not resist.
Musician Profile: Amy Caudle
Name: Amy Caudle (solo and as yet unnamed project)
First instrument? Guitar
First public performance? Grade Six talent show
Stage fright? No
Favourite show? Kenny Chesney “Flip-Flop Summer Tour” (Seattle, 2007), followed by Merrit Mountain Music Fest
Least favourite music story? When Canadian Idol told me I was already “too developed of a musician” for the show! So much for the term, “Talent”. Bastards!
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? Sugarland
Favourite band/musician (all time)? The Eagles
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? Travelling, playing shows around the world.
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? That’s too far away to think about. The way things are going right now, who knows where I’ll be?
Next gig? Will keep you posted as my summer shows come available. You can almost always find me busking at Lonsdale Quay on the weekends
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Musician Profile: Ryan Olszewski
Name: Ryan Olszewski
What was your first instrument? Piano
Current Instrument? Guitar… messing around with blues harp, little bass, tiny little bit of keys.
Past bands? No Horses, Mud River, Assimilator
Current bands? throwing around the name Thunderbird Hotel… we’ll see if it sticks.
First public performance? Some sort of high school awards ceremony… there’s video somewhere… oh god.
Stage fright? With a band, none whatsoever. Solo, so much my legs turn to jello… for real.
Favourite show? 3 way tie (sorry) AC/DC (Calgary 1995? first rock concert ever) Ryan Adams & The Cardinals (Seattle 2008), Botch (Seattle 2002, last show ever)
Least favourite music story? pretty tough one… how about 85% of the current Rolling Stone Magazine 40 reasons to be excited about music.
Favourite band/musician (at the moment)? flavors of the day is The Dead, Ryan Adams, and Ryan Bingham
Favourite band/musician (all time)? Neil Young
Ten years from now, where will you be (perfect answer)? An “old man” still trying to play in a band.
Ten years from now, where will you be (probable answer)? An “old man” still trying to play in a band.
Next gig? Hopefully gigging by the the end of summer.
Photo credit: Tina Welch
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George Stroumboulopoulos: The Truth on TV
Since there’s been television sets to complain about, parents have been warning their children that they “can’t believe everything [they] see on TV!” I would agree that this is very often the case, but when it comes to George Stroumboulopoulos, I’ve decided he can be trusted.
*This next bit is going to read like a second introduction and I’m pretty sure it is.
It irritates me when people talk about hating people they have never met. You can hate Lady Gaga’s music all you want or hate Charlie Sheen’s lifestyle, but you really can’t hate a person you don’t know. So whenever I hear people talk that way about George Stroumboulopoulos (which is rare but it does happen), I feel the need to defend him, having met him three times now.
The first time I met Stroumboulopoulos was in April of 2007. I was in Toronto to visit my sister and do the usual Toronto stuff: The Hockey Hall of Fame, The CN Tower, and the Allied Beauty Association’s convention and trade show (Yes, there’s a whole different story there.).
I also made plans to go to a taping of The Hour. It was really my main reason for going, next to seeing my sister, of course.
It was Tuesday, April 3, 2007 and his in-studio guests were James Bartleman, then the 27th Lieutenant-Governor of Ontario and Neil Sedaka; if you don’t already know who he is (shame on you), I won’t bother having to explain. But it wasn’t his interview style or the the guests that got me. It was how he dealt with the audience. During one of the breaks he started talking with someone in the crowd about hockey goaltenders. The conversation lasted the whole break. The floor manager gave him the 30 second sign. Stroumboulopoulos acknowledged it and kept talking with the audience member. At the 20 second warning, he began walking backwards to his chair, never breaking eye contact or conversation with the audience member. At 10 seconds, he was sitting in his chair still conversing with the audience member until he put his finger up for a pause, said, “Just a second”, then turned to the camera, “My next guest…”
After the show he stayed to meet every person who stayed to meet him.
The second time I attended a taping was November 30, 2009. His guests that day were Patrick Trahan, a motorcyclist from the Dakar Rally (who almost killed my friends and I when he arrived on his bike at the CBC, bumped into a cab, then lurched up onto the sidewalk), and Shawn Ashmore, the actor. My sister, her boyfriend, my friend Lori, and I sat front row. It was cool. At the time, I was doing my own interview show online and had a picture of Stroumboulopoulos out of sight, down by my knee. If an interview was going a little awry, I’d look down and think, “What would George do?” He signed the picture for me that day.
I hate Metrotown. I hate everything about Metrotown. In fact, the last time I was there was for this, five or six years ago:
Now hanging around all day making snide remarks about Canadian Idol is a great way to spend your day in the mall. Standing in line? Not so much. This past Saturday, Metrotown played host to a CBC Live event. I went to check it out. One “Lucky Facebook Winner” was given 20 or so minutes to ask Stroumboulopoulos questions, interview him. One of the questions was “Why the CBC?” Stroumboulopoulos responded that he didn’t even return their call the first time. It wasn’t until it dawned on him that there were no investors, no bottom line, at the CBC that he wanted to go work there. The CBC existed to program for a nation, not make investors rich. I decided to stay afterward to see if I could get signed posters for a couple of friends.
After almost two hours, and tweets like, “If I don’t get a @strombo poster b/c the line was too long, next person to walk by with a Heartland poster is getting punched on her 14yr old tit!”, I finally got a chance to meet him again, shake his hand, and get a couple of personalized autographs for my friends. Standing in line makes you punchy, I know, but I really wasn’t worried. Just as I figured, he stayed. While the Dragon’s Den guy was long gone with the cast of The Republic of Doyle, Stroumboulopoulos, “George” as he always introduces himself, was still chatting wildly with the first two people in line.
He is the real deal, Truth on TV. If you don’t like his show, fine. But if you’re going to slam him, shake his hand and look him in the eye before you do. It’s not being star struck either. Stroumboulopoulos is no star; he’s Canada’s boyfriend.
January 31, 2011 | Categories: Art, Fellatio, and Other Heady Subjects, Straight from The Bear's loud mouth (insane ramblings disguised as social commentary), The Loudmouth Bear Reviews (books, music, movies), [re]Discovering Vancouver | Tags: 15 minutes, Baron S. Cameron, British Columbia, Canada, contrarian, fame, George Stroumboulopoulos, humour, loud mouth, loudmouth bear, photography, Vancouver, west vancouver, writing | 18 Comments »