Sunday, March 28, 2004

Love and Theft

I started out my "playing at the Horseshoe" entry by saying that it had been an interesting week. That was only part of the story.

That weekend, Bob Dylan was playing three gigs here in Toronto: Friday night at the Ricoh Auditorium, Saturday night at the Phoenix night club and Sunday night at Kool Haus night club. I had a ticket for the Phoenix show. But Friday night, blues guitarist Paul James added a late-announced gig at Cadillacs, out in Parkdale. Significance? The last couple of times Dylan played here, Paul James joined him on a few songs at Dylan's show, and Bob returned the favour, showing up unannounced and jamming with James at his club gig.

You didn't need to be a super-sleuth to surmise that Bob might show up at James' gig at Caddilacs, which is a short limo ride away from Bob's concert that night. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that James was guesting with a band called The Catfish Blues Band, which neither myself nor any of my friends had heard of before. And Bob-philes know that Dylan has an obscure bluesy song called "Catfish" on his Bootleg Series: Vol.1-3 boxed set.

So, Friday night, after a delicious meal at Mitzi's Sister, I scooted over to Caddy's. Sign on the door said $8 cover, $6 with ticket stub from the Dylan show. Hmmm, interesting. Were they hinting, were they milking the rumours, or was the owner a big Dylan fan? First thing I heard when I entered the room was a Dylan song being played over the sound system. Hmmmmx2. I managed to find a spot at the bar near the stage. Good thing I got there when I did, because the place started filling up fast. Apparently a lot of other people had the same idea.

So, the Catfish Blues band plays a short set, and then Paul James gets up and plays a set on his own, mostly with acoustic guitar and harmonica. He plays a whole series of Dylan songs. And I'm thinking that's probably not such a good sign. Either way, I found it kind of tacky. James is a hell of a guitar player, but a bit too much of an "entertainer" for my liking. He has schtick. Plays the guitar with his teeth, behind his back, etc. Mugs for the crowd. Just a bit too much for my taste.

But between him and the Catfish band (who were quite good) and the palpable sense of anticipation in the sardined crowd, the place was rockin'! It was quite exciting, in fact. People were really having a good time (including my friend Boag's pal John/Jack, who got turfed by the doorman). But alas, closing time came, and no Bob.

So Saturday night I met up with Boag and John/Jack before the Phoenix show for a few beers at the wonderfully dive-y '70s-era Imperial Tavern on Dundas Street East, a drunk's stumble from the Eaton's Centre. We compared notes about the previous evening's proceedings at Caddy's. They had been at the Dylan show, so had begun The Celebration much earlier than me, so I was able to clear up some of their foggy memories. We cabbed it over to the Phoenix (treated to some killer church gospel on a tape the cabbie was playing) and found a spot near the back of the room, just behind the soundboard, and within easy striking distance of one of the smaller and not-too-crowded bars.

Dylan and his band came on a few minutes after we arrived, and started into their set (archived here for those of you who care to follow such things). Very nice version of "To Be Alone With You", and I was very happy to hear "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight". It was also cool to see him do "If You See Her, Say Hello". Bob stayed on piano all night, playing a keyboard that was set up stage left, dressed in his Cowboy Bob suit. Great band, as usual. He only used one drummer for this gig, I guess because the stage wouldn't fit the two kits used on this tour. Fine by me, since I think with the possible exception of Yes, or some other prog rock monsters, no band needs two drummers. Not for this kind of music, anyway.

I ventured up to the front a couple of times just to get a better look, but mostly I stayed back by the soundboard and took in the scene and the sounds from there. I can't say it was an amazing concert--I enjoyed his show at the ACC two years ago much more--but it was good, and it was cool to see Dylan in such a small venue.

After the show, I lost Boag and John/Jack, so I headed out to Mitzi's again, where local alt-country lads Jay Clark And The Jones were playing. A very good evening there. Jay and the boys sounded great, and Jay passed me a copy of their new CD, which is a very fine piece of work. Lots of good songs and a fuller, warmer production than their debut. Kudos to the boys.

Okay, I'm tired typing and I need to get ready for bed. But there's more to say about the events of last week. I'll continue with the "theft" portion of this topic at a later date.

[ooh, a cliffhanger!]

Saturday, March 27, 2004

Careful With That Axiom, Eugene

Just this morning, while making my breakfast, I came up with a new axiom. Or maybe it's a maxim. Or an adage. Yes, I think it's more proper to call it an adage. I'm not changing the title of this entry though. Shame to waste a good pun. Anyway... it is this:
The finest bread will not always make the best toast.
Please discuss in terms of appropriate usage or possible ways of fine-tuning the verbiage. And please feel free to start dropping it into your conversations. Remember to adopt the proper sagely tone, like this: "Ah yes, but remember [here you can raise an index finger for effect]: The finest bread will not always make the best toast." Yes, that should do it.

Let's see if this baby finds its way into the popular consciousness. It's like dropping an 'adage in a bottle' into the ocean of language. heh heh. Let's see where it ends up.

Friday, March 26, 2004

Whoa, Nellie!

I saw Nellie McKay (web pages here and here) last night at the El Mocambo. Wow! I love this girl! What an amazing, unique talent. She's been getting rave reviews for her album Get Away From Me, and you can believe the hype.

It's like the ghosts of George and Ira Gershwin inhabited the body of a 19-year-old misfit chick from New York City who was raised by a bohemian mom. Or maybe it's Cole Porter meets Phoebe Buffet? Nah, that's not fair, because she's not a comedy act, although she is very funny, but also incredibly witty, incisive, poignant and lots of other wonderful things. Wait, I know who she is! She's the love child that Elvis Costello and Diana Krall haven't had yet!

Check out some MP3s for David and Inner Peace and videos here.

Her electronic press kit is here

Go Nellie!

Monday, March 22, 2004

It's Not Easy Being Green

Been an interesting week. On Monday, my friend Stephen "Boag" O'Grady--a fine, soulful singer with a fine Irish name--emailed to ask me if I was interested in backing him up on guitar when he takes to the stage of the Lengendary Horseshoe Tavern to perform a few songs at the annual Martian Awareness Ball. The "Ball" is held every St. Patrick's Day, hosted by the one and only Mary Margaret O'Hara. For the past couple of Balls, Boag has hopped onstage to sing a few songs.

He told me he wanted to do Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" and also Van's arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural (That's An Irish Lullaby)" from The Last Waltz. Short notice, but I went to work learning the songs. "Tupelo" is pretty straightforward, so I worked out some lead guitar riffs I could throw in, and the link on The Band's site gave me the chords to that arrangement of "Tura-Lura-Lural".

We met at the íShoe at about 9pm and found the little rehearsal room in the basement was unused, so we huddled to go through the tunes, joined by Boag's friend Tim, who had played guitar with Boag last year. We decided he'd play on our songs and we'd play on his selection, "She's A Mystery To Me" which Bono and The Edge had written for Roy Orbison.

We ran through the songs a couple of times and worked out what we were going to do. However, the more I play in public (and this is perhaps only the sixth or seventh time I've played on stage at a real music venue) the more I realize that I need to rehearse a lot so I can really internalize the songs, so I don't have to think about what I'm playing. Just play it, feel it, remain more open and aware of what's happening on the stage and with the other musicians. So I was quite nervous, because even though I knew how the songs went, I didn't really have them down as much as I would have liked. While waiting around for things to get started, I was running through the chords in my head, and thinking about the general approach I was planning for the riffs and solos. Plus it was rather intimidating to be playing the stage at the Horseshoe, a venerable live music venue, and perhaps the most famous stage for rock and roots music in Toronto, as well as being my favourite live music venue in the city. At the same time, I was also quite excited to be playing on the same stage that has seen The Rolling Stones, The Tragically Hip, The Police and countless others. So all of that is going through my head as we're watching the strange spectacle of The Kings (you know, of "Switching To Glide" fame?) run through their pre-Ball opening set of five or six songs. (Still not sure what to make of that, but they were a little too heavy with the "let's-get-the-crowd-going" schtick. Had the feeling of has-beens trying to rekindle their career. Of course, coming from a "never was" like me, maybe that's a bit harsh. They at least had one pretty good hit song. That's one more than I have.)

Now, the thing about the Martian Awareness Ball is that it tends to be a little chaotic. It is St. Patrick's Day afterall. And it is a fairly zany event. But on top of that, there is very little in the way of stage management. I met and chatted with Mary Margaret beforehand, and she seems very sweet, but she tends to just let things run of their own accord. So even after she called us to come to the stage, it was about another 40 minutes until we finally got up there. And we had no sound check, and very little direction about what to do, so as the guitarist for the house band was leaving the stage, I had to ask him where I could plug in my guitar and my pedal board. I had never dealt with a stage with monitors and all that, so I just plugged in and hoped everything sounded okay. It sounded fine on the stage. The house band played with us--drummer, bass player and keyboard player, all very good players, so I told them what songs we were going to do and what keys they were in, and off we went! We also had a very good sax player named Richard Underhill play with us. He had performed just before us, so Boag asked him to stay on and honk along. "Tupelo Honey" went all right, I think. As I said, I had to really concentrate on my playing, and I was fairly nervous, so I had "stage blinders" on; not really very aware of what was going on around me. Mary Margaret joined in with us, I do know that.

Next we backed Tim on his song, "She's A Mystery To Me", which went all right, as far as I could tell, except I think I forgot what the proper chords were for the bridge, so I had to just sort of fake my way through that part, chopping at damped strings. Then we did "Tura-Lura-Lural"... and that's where everything went off the rails.

I wasn't really very aware of what was transpiring, but talking to Boag and others afterwards, it seems that at some point, this guy who was sort of emceeing the night joined in at the other microphone, I think maybe rapping or doing some sort of spoken word ad libs. Apparently that wasn't too bad, but then some other guy got up onstage and started yapping about something and just causing a lot of chaos, throwing everybody off. The song came crashing to a halt in confusion and bewilderment. Boag had to tell the guy to knock it off, and I think it was at that point that I had to actually re-start the song. We went through another go-round and then we brought it all home with the big ending, where I decided to just give 'er and started chopping out the closing chords with, as they say, extreme prejudice. Actually busted my D string in the process, which being the 4th from the bottom and not one of the smaller strings, takes a bit of doing. Rock íní†roll, baby!

Overall, I can't say I felt very good about my performance, and the chaotic closing number left a bad taste in my mouth, so I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Plus by that point it was going on 12:30 and I had work the next day. So I just packed up my stuff as quickly as I could and scampered off. As I was gathering up my gear, Mary Margaret gave me a pat on the back and said "good job", or something. That was nice of her. Perhaps she was just being kind, I dunno. However, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought, and it was certainly a thrill to play the Horseshoe.

Maybe next year we'll work out something that'll really bring down the house--in a good way. And if I get enough rehearsal in, I'll be able to keep my wits about me, and be ready to swing my guitar at the head of any goof who tries to hijack our gig.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Deep Thought For Today

'Scared' is simply a typo of 'sacred'.

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Dodging A Bullet

The big news here last week was the three shootings in Scarborough in the space of a few hours Wednesday night. It was all the talk at the office too, because one of the shootings happened right outside our doors. (That's our building in the background of the picture in the linked article.)

When I stepped off the bus Thursday morning, there was a CITY-TV cameraman filming the intersection. As I hadn't heard any news that morning, I didn't know why he was there. But that's where the drive-by shooting occurred, where a man was shot dead. In my morning pre-coffee stupor I probably walked right by the blood stains without noticing.

The shooting had happened right at the intersection at about 5:20pm Wednesday evening. That's roughly the time I would normally be waiting for the bus at that corner, or, indeed, crossing the crosswalk to get to the bus stop. Not to make it overly dramatic, because there were other people standing at the bus stop--a couple of people from the office, in fact--and they weren't directly in danger's way, but under normal circumstances I would have been in the vicinity of the shooting, and...well, who knows what would have happened. Bullets can ricochet. Instead, I ended up getting a drive downtown at 4:30 with a colleague to pick up the Canadian Music Week pass and "swag" bag.

And they say music can't save your life!