Cadillacadaisical

I thought it was about time I got my ass over to Cadillac Lounge. Never been there in the seven-plus years I've lived in this city. 'Course it's way across town in Parkdale. Not exactly the most convenient trip. But on Saturday night the Silverhearts were playing there, with Halifax's Al Tuck opening. I'd been hearing a lot of good things about the Silverhearts, I had seen Al a couple of times, and he is pretty interesting.

When I saw him a week ago at the re-launch of Radio Mondays at Rancho Relaxo, I mentioned to my friends that he reminded me of a cross between a young Bob Dylan and SNL almunus Norm MacDonald. Perhaps more Norm than Bob. When he gets his nerves under control, he's capable of unwinding some fascinating songs, that come tumbling out of him like a ball of twine. "The Days When People Were Small And Few", "Buddha" and a strangely irresistible little song which I assume is called "Five-O"... yes, as in Steve McGarret, "Book'em Danno", etc. It's an obligatory singalong number, believe it or not, with Al tossing out the refrain ñ "Five-O" ñ which audience members then toss back (faux-operatic works best, I find). It goes like this:

Al: [sings] Five-O
Us: [singing] Five-O
Al: [slightly higher progression] Five-O
Us: [following suit] Five-O
[pause]
All Together: Five-O, Five-O, Five-O

And it works! Very odd, but it works. That's Al Tuck.

And that's not to mention his beautiful, fragile rendition of Nat King Cole's "Mona Lisa".

Anyway, it didn't really matter Saturday night, because between the muddy sound of the bar's PA, and the fact that the Leafs-Senator's playoff game on the bar's TV had gone into triple-overtime, Al didn't really stand a chance. He still pulled off a pretty good performance, closing with some help from a few of the Silverhearts, on a version of "St. James Infirmary" (Louis Armstrong?), which I then recognized as the template for Dylan's "Blind Willie McTell". Best to catch Al at a quieter venue though. I think he's playing every Tuesday at Cameron House or C'est What, or somewhere like that.

The Silverhearts were headlining. I think it was a CD release party for them. They actually played two sets preceeding and following Al's. When I arrived, it was pretty crowded already, but I spied a standing spot at the bar and slipped in there. The Silverhearts were onstage, just inside the entrance. I think I counted ten of them up there, seated in rows. Here's my rough sketch of the band's instrumental configuration:

front row - Saw(!), harmonica, acoustic guitar, trombone
second row - Theremin(!), trumpet, upright piano
third row - Tuba, drums, elec/accoustic guitar

Looked more like a class picture from Tom Waits' Band Camp than an actual musical group. And even though most of the lead singing chores seemed to be handled by the guitarist and the piano player, most songs seemed to feature all-group singalongs. When I arrived they were playing what turned out to be the final song of their opening set, the old Gospel chestnut "Just A Closer Walk With Thee". Made me feel like I was in someone's parlour on a Sunday afternoon, rather than a Saturday night drinking establishment. This was compounded by the presence beside me at the bar of two nuns in full Sally Field old-time habits. Long black head veil, white "hood-y" head coverings, the whole nine yards. At first I wondered if they were legit sisters, but then, as I eaves-dropped on their conversation, it became clear that one of them had just kicked her boyfriend out. "He was talkin' such shit... fucking dickhead..." Nun too subtle.

Which, of course, prompted a brief sideways rumination on the sheer idea of picking up a faux-nun. Just the concept, mind you! Just the concept. Besides, when I turned around a few minutes later, I saw that they had been joined by a couple of fellow "cross"-dressers ñ two guys attired in full bishop regalia ñ yep, the tall, pointy hats, the mitres, the white robes, the red and gold sashes. Smoke in one hand, glass of red wine in the other.

Is this a typical Parkdale Saturday night?

Naturally, the only way to react to such a sight, is to be completely nonchalante, like I hang out in bars with puffing bishops and cursing nuns on a regular basis. So I just ignored them. And I think my approach was justified later, when some half-soused guy floated by and stopped to ask the questionable clergy "so.. what's wis the get-up?" I mean, what are they supposed to say? What's to be gained from asking such a question? Either they're actual clergy, out on the town for some revelry... or they're simply dressed up like bishops and nuns for a bit of a laugh at the bar. I say, who cares either way? Just accept it, order another, and move on.

And I did.

So, back to the Silverhearts... they were interesting, very enjoyable at times, although, like the quaffing clergy next to me at the bar, the schtick got a bit thin after a while. The harmonica player and the trombonist seemed to be trying a bit too hard ñ the former constantly rolling his eyes back in his head and spazzily flaying his arms, and the latter doing his best/worst impression of Buster Poindexter. But they're definitely worth seeing,and they're certainly unique.

And I liked Cadillacs too. Nice blend of cozy and funky and wonky. Ya gotta like any bar where young night-lifers, music fans, musicians (I think I saw Ian Blurton there) and neighbourhood old-timers can not only exist side-by-side, but even interact. It had a nice vibe. And a barmaid who melted my heart all over the bar like a Salvador Dali clock. Yes, I think I'll be going back to the Cadillac.

Not a "holy" satisfying musical adventure, but a watering hole that just could become a habit.