Orcutt Shelley Miller live at the Rickshaw, plus Nomeansno's "The Tower" identified!!!

All photos, such as they are, by me!

It's funny: if you go see Lee Ranaldo, there are no Sonic Youth songs. Go see Thurston: no Sonic Youth songs. Go see Kim and, as far as I know, no Sonic Youth songs (I couldn't make her solo show here but I peeked at the setlist after). 

But go see Steve Shelley... and guess what? Orcutt Shelley Miller opened their set last night with an instrumental version of "Star Power." Wow! (But that's just the official video; I didn't record them doing it). 

Took me about two seconds to note that it was familiar and three more to realize what they were doing and there was this little explosion of joy in me. Thanks, guys, that meant something! 

Steve sure seemed to be enjoying himself. Don't think I've seen a drummer smile so much while playing -- he was having so much fun. Nice guys, all three, and holy shit, what playing. Orcutt's fingers fly around that fretboard in fascinating ways, and Ethan got in on the improvs, too. Didn't realize til I looked at my videos after ("An LA Funeral," "A Long Island Wedding") that he plays with a pick. 

I do hope they record their version of "Star Power." These songs should not be AWOL forevermore from the repertoire of the artists who originally recorded them (it's off Evol, Shelley's first album with the band).  

After Kneejerk's jazzy, challenging-but-engaging opening set, Tim Reinert introduced Orcutt Shelley Miller  with a fun bit of wit, saying he was going to answer a question that he'd been asked multiple times that evening already: "The answer is yes... that is the same amp." 

If you were around for Bill Orcutt's solo show at the Pearl last month, you laughed. Bill explained after the show to me that he'd just gotten it fixed - a power tube had blown. 

Terrific night. I was kind of happy that Tim had seats out in the venue, but also kind of sad, because some of what Orcutt Shelley Miller did was definitely danceable, especially "Four-door Charger" (just a link to the bandcamp, there, too; didn't shoot it). Some of us danced in our seats. It's a bit weird, but it works. 

At least three members of Earth Ball (Earthball -- I have forgotten Jeremy's preferred version now) and two members of Shearing Pinx were in the audience (and yes, these groups overlap). Izzy was the most interactive and enthusiastic, calling out at one point, "Did you guys go see Neil Young?" (They did not).

She also got excited when Bill announced that a song was called "A Long Island Wedding" because she heard the word "island." "Are you coming to the island? Come to Nanaimo!" (She's based in Nanaimo. I have explained this to the guys and said they should play the Vault, but it won't be this tour). 

Word to Tim: get Earthball to open for a show sometime! 

I was happy to hear in the post-show chatting that the guys enjoyed the Indian restaurant I recommended. I had given them directions to avoid the other side of the street, near the Carnegie, which always had seemed a bit rougher to me, but there's been a shift since I last hit the Rickshaw -- the half-block on Hastings between Main and the Rickshaw is now absolutely packed with people, many in real rough shape, though also many running a busy sidewalk market. I was a bit startled, haven't seen that half-block so packed before. I wonder if the guys' cities have similar places? Seattle sure doesn't. Is our fentanyl problem generally worse than other cities? Has anyone read Sam Cooper?  

Suffice to say, any touring bands playing the Rickshaw who want to eat in the neighbourhood, there's a good Indian place on Pender and Main, next to the CIBC, but you may have to walk past many people who seem dead or who are living in conditions of extreme misery and poverty. It seems to have gotten worse since the last time I was in the neighbourhood. Maybe it's just because it's summer -- people are happier being outside? Maybe they actually manage to sell some stuff to Rickshaw attendees? 

In any case, if it's complicated outside, the vibe was awesome once you got inside the venue. Nice to see John Werner there (introduced him to Ethan: "This guy plays in the Pack with Kirk Brandon!"), said hi to a few other people I knew (ARGH!!, Jeanette,  Elliott, Mo). You're right, John: I wrote a review! Can't help myself, wish I could. 

Dumb: the only time I saw Elliott (of the Rebel Spell, Freak Dream and formerly the SSRIs), we were taking a piss. He started just after I did, and was still there with his dick in the urinal when I said, "Hey, Elliott!"

For our entire conversation, he was peeing. Sho ga nai, ne? Hope he dug the show! 

Having remarked on Ethan's Wrong t-shirt in my previous post, I shouldn't have been surprised when Nomeansno came up when I chatted with him after: Ethan wanted to know if there were any actual physical landmarks that informed Nomeansno's "The Tower." I always just sort of thought, "Tarot by way of the Eye of Sauron," but he wondered if Susto Tower in San Francisco might have been on Rob's mind. I said I doubted it, but would investigate. 

I mean, if the moon is in the right place, it is pretty "Eye of Sauron," eh? It's one evil-lookin' tower, even comes with a trident!

Turns out I didn't even have to bug John Wright (currently on tour) to get the answer. The guys on the Nomeansno: We're So Wright It's Wrong Facebook group immediately pointed out that indeed there IS a physical inspiration: the Smith Hill reservoir telecommunications tower in Summit Park. It's really not that impressive unless you shoot it in the right light, but apparently Rob Wright has confirmed this on the NoMeansNo Thing Podcast. 

I am thinking since it's a private group, I can't just share a link to the conversation, so I'll steal some of that. Miloš Svirčev (I think involved in the podcast?), seeing my question, shared an old post by Victoria group member Tyler Hodgins with a photo of the Tower, and (definite podcaster) Jordon Flato elaborated:

We do a little podcast about Nomeansno, called NoMeansNo Thing Podcast where we deep dive into all of the songs (ostensibly to find the 'very best one' even though there is no such thing) and some time ago one of our hosts, who is also a Victorian, made this connection with the song. And then in our interview with Rob of a year or so ago, he confirmed this was indeed THE Tower. Sounds like being a hometown boy you already knew this! You should check out the podcast though, if you're a fan, you'd probably dig it!

It's funny -- I thought I knew the answer to the question, which kept me from realizing that I didn't -- another way in which "a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing." So thanks for Ethan Miller helping educate me here! 

(Dead Bob just played Germany for the first time the other night, by the way. My editor at Ox says it was awesome: "I don't need Nomeansno back: Dead Bob are just as good!"). Yaaah!

Coming back to Orcutt Shelley Miller, and speaking of t-shirts, the design for their band shirt was fun... but I better not say more! Stuff has been, how did SY put it, "jacked from the matrix" again (a phrase they used before the Wachowskis had made a single movie, note). But it was kinda fitting that when I got Steve to sign my Sister afterwards, he immediately went for the black space on the front where the mutated Disney image used to be. Which is exactly where I was in the process of pointing. 

I wish I still had one of those original covers, but the black space hurts less with his signature in it. 

I did tease one more Crucifucks question out of Steve, asking him to resolve a long-standing dispute. I don't think anyone will be interviewing 26 anytime soon, so this will have to do: was "Oh Where, Oh Where?" written about a lost hit of acid?

"I think it was, yeah."

"Damn, I liked it better as just a missing piece of paper." (Any time I've lost an important piece of paper, it's the song that comes to mind). 

He said something like "I do, too" or "Me too" in response. Nothing wrong with a hit of acid, mind you, it's just funnier if it was written about, like, looking for a receipt for something you have to return or, like, a scrap you scribbled an important password on or something.  

I hope a few people came out and had a great time because of my articles (all of'em linked here). I never know if they make a difference, y'know? The Rickshaw could have been fuller, but at least all the seats Tim had put out were taken (closed balcony, though). You people who did not come: you missed out. Can't say I didn't try my best! 

Fuckin' "Star Power," man! Yaaah!

Ethan Miller interview: the Unknown Unknown, the Grateful Dead, and Orcutt Shelley Miller TONIGHT at the Rickshaw

Photo by Rachel Lipsitz

If you don't know if you need to be at the Rickshaw tonight, let me ask you one question: besides, say, a few Sonic Youth records, do you also have Blues for Allah in your record collection?

I think that if the answer to that is yes, you need to be there, because -- even though my Straight interviews focused on Steve Shelley; see here and here (and here) -- the secret ingredient in Orcutt-Shelley-Miller is, I think, Ethan Miller's love of the Grateful Dead, which is all over his main band these days, Howlin Rain.

Miller basically brings the 70s into play Orcutt Shelley Miller, and to my amazement, having finally heard what they're doing on their bandcamp, 70's rock is very, very relevant to this music. I mean, there's even some funky moments, courtesy Miller's basswork. Wasn't expecting THAT!!!

To be sure, I've played the press safe, because Steve Shelley is the known known here. SOME of you didn't really NEED to read a two-part interview with him to convince you to go tonight, of course, but I chose to interview him as the main feature because I figured people crave familiarity -- and we all do, a little -- and that they would be more likely to READ THE ARTICLES that way. I mean, who doesn't love Sonic Youth?   

And to stay Rumsfeldian, here, if Shelley is the known known, Bill Orcutt, for some of you, is the known unknown, the guy you know you don't understand but know you need to. Even I still feel that way and I have four of his records now! Suffice to say, he's one of these eccentric American guitar geniuses who defy categorization, and who any written description of will not do justice. There's a blues element to what he does, a spiritual element to what he does, a jazz element to what he does, and some truly gentle and subtle work, which means that if you have, like, Robbie Basho or John Fahey albums in your collection, or Loren Connors, you need to know about him; but he also has roots in No-Wave-Noise-Rock-Don't-Give-a-Fuck fearlessness; some of that Harry Pussy stuff is tougher than the toughest Fushitsusha. So with a range like that, there are mysteries yet to unravel, even if you WERE at the Pearl awhile back. Known unknown is about right. 

But for me, at least, Ethan Miller was the UNKNOWN UNKNOWN, the person I have come latest to, knew the least about, who I was emailing with to set up interviews before I had any clue what he did musically. He's the guy on the far left, here. The guy in the HOLY SHIT HE'S WEARING A WRONG T-SHIRT!!!

(Flash forward to the after-show conversation! Ethan was telling me that he Steve, and Bill were listening to Nomeansno's Wrong on the ride to Vancouver, and got to chatting about what the inspiration for the tower in "The Tower" is. I've always taken it 100% to be a reference to the Tarot card, with maybe a bit of Eye of Sauron mixed in, but Ethan was speculating that it was maybe inspired by Sutro Tower in San Francisco, which, if the moon is just right, definitely does have an Eye of Sauron quality to it. Now myself, I think this is a longshot, but it COULD be the case that there was an actual physical tower in the back of Rob's mind, besides any metaphorical or literary reference. I offered to help get to the bottom of this! More to come).  

But let us leave that future digression and leap back to the pre-show article that I was writing: Even though I still barely know what he does -- I've listened ONLY to side one of The Dharma Wheel at this point (and the Orcutt Shelley Miller album), I asked Ethan some questions via email, and he answered them. starting with a brief overview of his career:

ETHAN MILLER'S CAREER OVERVIEW: 

Comets on Fire was my first band early 2000s - chaotic noise rock, I sang and played guitar.

Howlin Rain is my '70s rock band, started mid 2000s still going - AM gold to psychedelic Dead/ Hendrix-like excursions, I sing and play guitar

Heron Oblivion 2015 to 2020 or so - noise-folk rock/ psychedelic, I called it guitar freakout Krautrock meets funeral folk - I played bass and sang backing

I have a bunch of other groups, as like Bill and Steve, I'm restless artistically, but I think these three are the biggest (most popular) and three strong foundational points that put a little background perspective on how I step to Orcutt Shelley Miller for my creative end.

If you want to dip into these three albums here are my quick pick recommendations with the context of Orcutt Shelley Miller in mind:

Comets on Fire, Blue Cathedral: https://open.spotify.com/album/2qBVJLaevQJIEhMAJBmCoR?si=elCavi-mQfGDChUQZkgrgQ

Howlin Rain, Alligator Bride: https://open.spotify.com/album/0GmQqBVnO5ZkKqW0PprGbz?si=ApR68VCCSV2J_yg8RBzt1A

Heron Oblivion, S/T: https://open.spotify.com/album/0d1GIvkfR1zTlXWow5otSd?si=S3TKxVV-REq3rIXVl8gMJQ

My record label Silver Current, which Orcutt Shelley Miller is coming out on, has also gained some notoriety in recent years with high profile archival releases by Sonic Youth and Galaxie 500 and releases by Osees, Earthless, Wooden Shjips, Howlin Rain, etc.

...So that's an informative overview Ethan has provided, but I confessed after this that I'm not a Spotify user (but had found The Dharma Wheel on a trip to Seattle. I still sketched out what I could by way of an email interview. A Q&A follows. I'm bolded in italics, Ethan's not. Long quote from Tom Carter is indented! 

Allan: I have a Dead question for you. I was reminded by some of what Bill did of Jerry Garcia's guitar theme for the hippie lovemaking in Zabriskie Point, but I also second-guessed the hell out of that. Does the Dead ever come up in conversations between you and Bill and Steve? Do you all dig the Dead?

Ethan Miller: I very much dig the Dead. I go in and out of super deep dives with them but I find it comforting to have those artists like Dylan, King Crimson, Miles Davis, Nina Simone etc within arms reach that have these endlessly explorable catalogs, deep and dark and you find new emotional spaces when you approach them at different times in your life. Dead fit that for me. I also find them to be a good reminder / example of striving for excellence and transcendence in music while abandoning all attempts at perfection, that the rough edges of your character and personality will ultimately be your greatest musical expression.

I can't remember if Steve likes the Dead. In our bio Tom Carter wrote this and I thought it might sum up a part of Bill's relationship to the Dead (though this assessment may be 3 decades old), from one of his close friend's perspectives:

TOM CARTER (Charalambides) 

I once asked Bill Orcutt if he liked the Grateful Dead, because I had a vague memory of talking about them while on tour together 30 some-odd years ago. He responded that he'd tried to crack their code in college, mostly because so many of his friends liked them, but that he could never penetrate their overwhelmingly shallow sonics and chittering conversationally. Why weren't his friends more fired up by the creeping undertow of Crazy Horse, dripping with three-chord existential menace?

Since then, I've thought about the Horse/ Dead dichotomy a lot -- especially now, listening to the debut release from Orcutt, Steve Shelley, and Ethan Miller, the closest approximation of a standard power trio that Orcutt has landed in to date. Far from the polymorphic jazz-isms of his numerous records with Chris Corsano, the landscape Orcutt Shelley Miller inhabits lies fathoms beneath the convivial Cartesian coordinates of the Dead, deep in the stoner American bedrock, fed by volcanic riffage containing multitudes.

Allan: Whoa, thanks. That's really compelling. So... What's the Sonic Youth archival release? Was that how you got into things with Steve? What's your history with Sonic Youth? (Did Comets on Fire ever share a stage with them?). Any SY stories are welcome...

Ethan Miller: Sonic Youth Live in Brooklyn 2011 was released on my record label Silver Current in summer of 2023. It was their final US show, a triumphant career spanning mega blast set list with the band in top form. The work on that record was how Steve and I came to know each other again and became closer and how our relationship tipped into music. Sonic Youth was the first big band to take my first band Comets on Fire out on the road and expose us to those bigger audiences and that world. And then Thurston took my band Heron Oblivion out with the Thurston Moore group in (2018?) or so and Steve and I had reconnected there some, that was a fun run also.

I believe the album that Comets was touring with Sonic Youth on was Murray Street, though it may likely have been Sonic Nurse with some big Murray Street numbers still spanning in the set. I remember thinking there was a Dead kind of vibe to some of that beautiful expansive space they would get into on that Texas tour, where it wasn't noisy, it was very crystalline and ethereal ~ sort of large interweaving crystal caverns you could get lost in. Being able to look very closely now at their beginnings to their end Sonic Youth are one of the most prime examples to me that if your chemistry is there in a group and the group is fearless in musical exploration you can go anywhere and it makes perfect sense and feels 'right'. Their restlessness to find the next unknown space of expression and continue to fearlessly step from 'what is working' into the unknown is one of the great band models of creativity in the history of rock and roll. No shit!

Allan: How did you first cross paths with Bill? When did you and he and Steve start to work together? (Steve probably told me some of that story too but what the heck). Do you have any rules or structure to what you do? Is there a "leader" you're supposed to follow?

Ethan: I'm not sure exactly where I first 'met' Bill but I did see some of his earliest acoustic shows as he came back on the music scene in SF in the early 2010s and I loved his playing and performance. I think he was playing rather regularly around and we ended up being on shows together, chatting a bit at gigs. Ironically to question #1, in 2019 I was tasked with being a band leader for a many-guest live tribute show of The Grateful Dead's 1969 albums Live Dead and Aoxamoxoa and I asked Bill if he would be a guest performer. He said he didn't really know the Dead but would love to. We did "Death Don't Have No Mercy" and when he took the solo he took the house down. Afterward he told me how much fun it was playing with a 'rock band,' and that he hadn't played with a bass player since high school or something. So I suggested we put together some kind of combo for him to do an outer-rock thing, reference points: all that 70s krautrock, free rock-jazz fusion, etc we were mutually into and he said he was game. I put together a backing rhythm section for a show and pandemic hit a few days before we were supposed to do it. We kept in touch a bit during the pandemic and last year I suggested we take the idea back up. I saw how creatively active Steve was, always producing, recording, releasing albums on his label, and in any down time voraciously listening to music - AND one of the greatest drummers in the history of rock music! No brainer.

Yes, there is structure and improv both in the music. We don't have a leader, musically we can hear who's leading a part at any given moment but it's not a set thing. We just use our ears the whole time.

Allan: I'm curious if the "spiritual" of free music aspect ever comes up in conversation with you and Bill and Steve. There was a time in the free jazz world, when everyone was doing acid, I think, that there was a lot of references to spirituality in improvised and avant-jazz stuff, like Coltrane's Om or some of Don Cherry's chants or, like, Maurice McIntyre or Albert Ayler or so forth... and then the Howlin' Rain album is called The Dharma Wheel, which was an immediate plus. Why The Dharma Wheel?

Ethan: I don't have much to say about other people's spirituality in music but the title of the Dharma Wheel album along with the album art is intended to be a gateway into engagement with a tangled concept but one that no one can give a definitive answer for, so that in this case a person might have a great satisfaction in experience rather than conclusion. Like the end of the film 2001, we (the audience) still all have a lot of fun and thoughtfulness and experience watching and discussing and contemplating that piece of challenging popular art and that's my favorite kind of engagement with art; the conclusion-less kind. In my experience, music is the artform that you most often don't need any context for it to set your emotions and imagination running wild as you engage with it as a listener or audience. That is a true gift of the form.

Allan: Steve tells me this is only the 12th gig or so you and he have done with Bill; how are things evolving, from show to show? Are you getting to know each other better? Are there still surprises? (It seemed to me that Bill would have surprises up his sleeve, like when he started to shout "February second" at the end of a piece...

Ethan: Yeah, of course we evolve show by show, that's natural. By the end of the last East Coast tour I felt like we'd really taken flight and were moving effortlessly, thinking and considering things less and everything moving on its own, thoughtless. That's the best. That said, the debut album in hand is our very first show and the first moments of what you hear on there are the first sounds of our first show. So I'm very proud of how well we expressed our first public sounds of music as a band and that it was of a level that we deemed it releasable, that is very singular and special in itself too.

Allan: Finally, tell me about the album's track names? Who named them? What do they mean?

Ethan: The track names? Just having fun, gently implanting little suggestive story ideas into the listeners mind, like being given only the first line of a short story and told to 'go' with it. Or at the very least a sense of absurdism when you look at the track name and listen to the music. To me there is something incredibly lonely and deflating about seeing non-track names like Song #3, or Untitled, etc. Or worse; bad, bland track names that are so forgettable that they just turn invisible even as your eyes read them. Depressing.

Thanks Allan! See ya in Vancouver!

Tickets here. Come early to see Kenton Loewen's terrific jazz unit Kneejerk, too! 

THIS IS HAPPENING TONIGHT!!!!

Neil Young Deer Lake Live Review Night 2 WITH ADDED PHOTOS

All photos by me

Well THAT was a much nicer experience than I had on Saturday (see my previous post for that). I guess someone listened to all the bitching, whether mine or someone else's, because this time, there was no 4km lineup to get in: I got off the bus pretty much at the same time as I did on Saturday -- since I'd had to work -- but bam, as soon as I arrived at the Shadbolt, I was pretty much at the gates, no lineup, maybe a two minute wait for a bag check and such. I gather they opened fifteen minutes earlier, but they also must have been a damn sight more efficient, because there wasn't even a band playing as I walked onto the grounds this time -- on Saturday, things were well underway by the time we got in, which messed us up in a few ways and put a bad spin on my wife's experience, which definitely affected mine: by the time she got food -- which she NEEDED; there are medical things afoot that meant it wasn't optional -- Neil was three songs in and she had to find me in the crowd (I had staked out a space).It put all sorts of stresses on us which could have been avoided if the entry had been smoother. We surmounted those to some extent -- I had to reach deep into my reserves of love and creativity to do that, because she was having a Real Bad Time -- but it was not an experience I'd ever risk repeating, you know, especially when I'm paying for the tickets! 

Mind you, there were still long lineups for food on Monday, but I was flying solo and wasn't planning to eat there last night, anyhow. I scoped them out regardless, then gave up, so I could get up front. This proved to be the correct choice, because I totally enjoyed myself, securing a prime spot close to the stage and deep-breathing the secondhand weedsmoke from the crowd (I don't smoke anymore because of my history with tongue cancer but sometimes I inhale the ambience, you know?). When I wasn't futzing with my phone, I danced in place the whole night with my plastic bag with my headphones and jacket tucked between my feet... It was a marvelous night, especially when compared to Saturday. 

Speaking "futzing with my phone" there was some girl facetiming her father, I guess it was -- I hope it wasn't her boyfriend -- standing directly in front of me for the whole of "Powderfinger." He was enjoying it so much that it was impossible to bring any serious resentment to the fore: I even grinned over my shoulder at him a couple times. It's kinda weird, how many phones were out at points, but mine was out too, so... okay!  

After the show, I didn't stick around AFTER to see if the security were still being so cold to people -- why would I want to experience THAT again? -- but within fifteen minutes of the closing "Roll Another Number," I was on a bus headed for Metrotown, because I'd planned ahead and left the front-of-stage area during the break between "Like a Hurricane" -- complete with a swinging owl organ for Micah -- and "Old Man," the second-to-last song, and was ready to roll when the show ended. Turns out a Neil Young outdoor concert is much nicer experience without a shitshow to get in and an impersonal herding to get out!

And it was a magnificent show, with the big difference that this time I was right up front to see what I could only hear the other night. I missed sharing "Harvest Moon" with Erika on the second night, but it sure was fun to really SEE Neil this time. Again, which was due to the smooth entry: because I got in before things started, I could get right down in front. It made ALL THE DIFFERENCE. 

As you may have noted, there a couple of setlist changes between nights: on Monday, there was no "Southern Man," early on, and (unless I missed something) no "Only Love Can Break Your Heart," the two of which got swapped out for "Like a Hurricane" near the end. "Big Crime" was also a fair bit shorter, I think (though still great! I like that Neil has included some topical new stuff). I think everything else was the same, though "Sun Green" ran eleven minutes long, which I think was longer than the other day. Plus Neil explained a bit more about the "Silver Eagle" song, which was inspired by a bus driver saying to him, "Why don't you write a song about a bus?" 

I kind of disparaged that song in my previous post, but I liked it better for having heard that story. I mean, it's still basically "This Land is Your Land" with new lyrics, but now that I knew what Neil was singing about, I cared more. Thanks for the story, Neil! (It was the only song he explained, at times crankily having to silence people idiotically shouting out his name while he was trying to tell us about it). 

I even got to see the opening acts on Monday, including Astrid Young, Neil's half-sister -- who I got no worthwhile photos of, sorry -- and Reverend Billy and the Stop Shopping Choir, who testified about tearing apart oil refineries with our bare hands, riffed on rhymes involving "strange" and "change," almost like he knew "Mr. Soul" would be in the setlist, and evoked the "fabulous unknown" a few times. I shot a bit of that, but I didn't fully understand what was being said. Something about apocalyptic social and environmental change? It was consistently interesting and engaging. I had seen the Reverend Billy hanging out on the grounds, just standing there, and wondered who he was -- who is the dude in the white suit with the Jim Jarmusch hairdo? 

Asked and answered. 

After that, there was an Indigenous presentation, not so much a land dedication as a protest against the pipeline being laid in Prince Rupert, which seemed worth putting on video. But I shot all of that, so I got no photos of it... I could do a screengrab or something but shit, just watch the vid!  

I have nothing further to add, really, but some photos. It was a great night. Fourth time I've seen Neil Young, if you count Saturday (where I couldn't really see him at all). I've seen "Powderfinger," "Hey Hey My My," and "Mr. Soul" every single time I've seen him and count myself lucky for it. Still haven't heard him do "Cortez the Killer" live, but instead, I got a new favourite Crazy Horse song of the moment, "Sun Green" ("Be the Rain" is a gooder too). I have completely neglected Greendale and bought a Return to Greendale on Sunday at Neptoon to amend that (the improved live version of that album, still in print, including in a deluxe box set which I skipped). I dunno why I go for the deep cuts, but my favourite song when I caught him at Rogers Arena some ten years ago was the version of "Fuckin' Up" they did; my favourite song when I caught him at Fuji Rock was the completely unexpected "Piece of Crap" (!!!!); and great as "Powderfinger" is, the Greendale stuff was the peak for me both nights, especially that clever little megaphone gadget. 

I guess if you're a "greatest hits" type you might not have been satisfied, but Neil Young is just not a greatest hits guy, folks; that's the wrong way to listen to him! You need to buy at least thirty of his albums, to start with. You need to attend his shows hoping he's gonna whip out "Hitchhiker" or something completely out of the blue like that. Hell, I'm impressed that he actually found the ONE MAJOR CRAZY HORSE ALBUM I DON'T KNOW AT ALL and taught me to love it. I would see Neil Young again, if I ever am so lucky to get the chance. 

Mind you, I will still think twice about it if it was at Deer Lake -- they still kind of FUCKED UP OUR NIGHT on Saturday, and I'm going to remember that, especially if it's a show I want to take my wife to (and have to pay for!) -- but last night was pretty amazing, a much nicer experience, and did a lot to make up for things. 

And thank you, Mr. Young, for still doing what you do. It was a privilege and an honour.

Neil Young Deer Lake live review, September 6th: high points, deep cuts, caveats, and bummers

Note: the things I bitch about below were resolved the second night -- see here! 

Didn't get any shots of Neil worth seeing -- I actually had my back to the stage most of the night! -- but this is a nice selfie! Some of Bev's photos are linked below. 

In fact, I don't have a lot to say about the Neil Young concert last night, but I'm hoping people can profit from our experience, because there were a few hassles to the evening, which, if I'd been forewarned about, I might have avoided. The high points -- which I will note below as well -- made it all abundantly worth it -- none of my "caveats and bummers" reflect on the concert ITSELF, ya dig? It was marvelous -- but TAKE HEED, PEOPLE:

1. Arrive as early as you conveniently can, because the lineup, when we got off the bus around 7, was insanely long. The bus lets you off by the Shadbolt Centre, but then you have a 25 minute walk to the end of the line, maybe 4km away, and a 20 minute shuffle back (the line breaks at one point, so it goes a bit faster on the way back, but the optional secondary way in doesn't save you from having to start at the back). I'm told that people who arrived more like 6:15 got in pretty easily. I have no choice, because of it being a work day, to undergo the whole lineup experience again on Monday, but if you have the option of getting there early, DO. 

A friend on Facebook commented and said he and his concert hubby arrived "just before 6pm, before they even opened the gates, "but once they did they were pathetically slow. Frickin’ kids that seemed more like foreign temporary workers to be very frank!"

[He also complains about "all the chatty drunk girls," which I forgot to mention, but there was some of that. I personally asked three sets of people to keep it down. Miraculously, in each case, it kinda worked! And he points out that Neil started more at 8:15]

Also, there are food trucks, but unless you arrive early, the lineups will be long there too, so if you're coming late, pack a sandwich to eat in line. (There are alleged water-refilling stations, too, but don't expect to be able to get to them, if you arrive at all late). 

This image is from the walk to the back of the line, probably 3 or 4KM away from the Shadbolt. I wish the bus had just let me off at the back of it! 

Here's how Erika felt to finally get in:

2. DO NOT BRING CHAIRS. They are not allowed. I don't know what happened to the people who were trying to port in lawnchairs on their backs -- we were not among them, but we saw a few while lined up -- but nothing with legs is being allowed in. Were the chairs confiscated, or were they allowed to stash them, or...? I don't know, but if you didn't get the memo, nothing with hard legs is being let in.

There is a maximum size bag allowed, too, roughly 12X12. Expect to be searched. You are allowed an empty water bottle, but again, if you are arriving late, good luck getting that re-filled. 

The overall vibe was very folk-fest like, in terms of the tarp city thing, except the folk fest DOES allow chairs, and doesn't have such a zealous, loveless, robotic security presence as Deer Lake. You will become something to be herded at the end of the night, more on which below. You will be allowed to enjoy yourself from 8pm to 10pm, but when things are over, it's OVER, and they will let you KNOW this. 

Actually, I'm not sure why Deer Lake doesn't let in chairs -- preserving the grounds? Jericho Beach seems to do just fine with them. But in any case, don't bring anything with legs, however it may fold up. This is all clearly printed on the emails Ticketmaster sends. Read them! 

3. The setlist from last night is here, but expect that to change. It was a really rich and varied set, spanning Young's whole career, and I expect Monday's will do the same, but with various changes (Neil is not the type of person to play the exact same set twice). If you didn't get to hear your favourite Neil Young songs, you still have a good chance you'll see them on Monday. 

The set was just under two hours long and runs from about 8 (actually 8:15) to 10; I suspect that will be the same on Monday.

4. Expect and embrace the deep cuts. Besides "Powderfinger," and "Mr. Soul" and "Hey Hey My My," which I think Neil has done all three times I've seen him (25 years ago at Fuji Rock, 10 or so years ago at BC Place, and last night), the high points were all deep cuts, including two pieces off Greendale, "Be the Rain" -- which actually is repped on a t-shirt -- and "Sun Green." That latter song was not one I really know -- I've only spun Greendale a couple of times -- but it's a stunner; I will soon be revisiting that album (I must amend my ways!). 

And though they weren't exactly deep cuts, I'm very happy to have heard old classics like "Ohio" and "Southern Man" (live vid here!), neither of which I had seen Neil do live before. They set a rather politically-charged theme for the night that of course got its most recent expression in the brand-new protest song "Big Crime." (Chicago sound check rock video version here):

No more great again
No more great again
Got big crime in DC at the White House

[Verse 1]
Don’t need no fascist rules
Don't want no fascist schools
Don’t want soldiers walking on our streets
Got big crime in DC at the White House
There's big crime in DC at the White House

[Verse 2]
Got to get the fascists out
Got to clean the White House out
Don’t want no soldiers on our streets
Got big crime in DC at the White House
Got big crime in DC at the White House

[Chorus]
No more great again
No more great again
Got big crime in DC at the White House

That was a good song! The best Chrome Hearts original I've heard. There were a couple weaker numbers, too, in particular "Silver Eagle" off the new album, Talkin' to the Trees, which is basically just a Woody Guthrie song with revised lyrics; suffice to say the new record hasn't won me over yet. Someone on the bus, afterwards -- a Neil Young live noob -- was griping about how they just wanted to hear his big songs, but from what they were saying, they might not actually have recognized songs like "Mr. Soul," so I'm not sure I care about their opinion. I mean, Neil's been making music for LONGER THAN I'VE BEEN ALIVE, and I'm 57. He's got one of the largest and most varied catalogues in rock, and you only want the hits? Go away.  

Meanwhile, from my point of view, "Harvest Moon" WAS a deep cut, since it's not something Neil does live very often, I don't think. I don't think I've heard "Only Love Can Break Your Heart" before live, either, for that matter. I felt real lucky to hear songs like these, and glad my wife was there with me for them (she had a lot of physical discomforts during the show and in fact was pretty miserable for the first half, mostly due to creature comforts issues, many of which had nothing to do with the concert itself and everything to do with the shitshow getting in and getting food... if you are going to refuse people to bring in their own food, you should make sure there are enough vendors that it doesn't take half an hour to get to them... but "Harvest Moon" sort of helped turn it around for us, and some creative caregivin' on my part. It could have been a much much nicer experience for both of us, suffice to say). 

5. For people who worry about musicians' well being, note that Spooner is okay. He's playing in a chair -- a wheelchair, maybe? But someone -- I'm guessing Micah, but possibly Corey -- explained about how he had fractured his pelvis playing basketball (!). Apparently he hasn't missed a show! I wasn't taking notes, don't remember how he broke his pelvis, but he's not, like, dying of cancer or anything like that. Don't be worryin'.  

6. Bev Davies photos from last night are here. She also forwarded this fun Tyee article: if you've never seen Steve at Fascinating Rhythm smile before (he's actually a sweet dude but superficially can present as a bit of a grump!), you should see how he's feelin' about getting his mitts on a Squires 7". 

7. Finally, there is a very firm 10pm curfew. Neil will play a very efficient set from 8pm to 10pm, if it's anything last night, but once the last song ends, it's over. Last night that last song was "Roll Another Number" which I sort of shot video of, eventually just putting the camera in my lap, because I was facing backwards to the stage, so Erika could lean on my back; don't ask me to explain, but I couldn't see the stage, let alone film it, so I did what I could. 

But once that last song is done, there will be no protracted stretches of cheering while you beg for an encore. Things will END AT 10, and you will then be aggressively herded out by the security starting at 10:15. Again, forewarned is forearmed... 

8. ...because NO FUN IS ALLOWED ON THE GROUNDS AFTER THE CURFEW. Please benefit from our experience: if you don't want to end the night on a sour note, just split as soon as the last song finishes. Their may have been some logic to how inflexible security was -- like re-opening the roads through the park, which had been all closed for the event -- but they were doing this thing I have never seen before, walking a waist-high yellow ribbon from one end of the field to the next to force people to get out without having to touch them. It struck me as kind of offensive ("fuck off, we're not cattle") and excessive, since the show had only barely ended: at one point, I looked down and saw that the thing pulling on me was a ribbon they were marching forward in a long line, which I looked up and down in disbelief (the ribbon is the line you see just near the bottom of the stage, in the photo below; I turned around to snap a picture of it). People were still lining up to pee, still lining up to buy merch, but the security guards were insistent, wouldn't let people linger -- which besides being a bummer if you'd hoped to unwind for a bit (or buy a shirt), also seemed kind of unsafe, because suddenly you've filled the roads with people all marching to the bus loop. The trip home would have been less crowded and less chaotic if people had been allowed to linger and leave at their own pace. Combined with the lineup shitshow at the beginning of the night, the way security were treating people will make me think twice about seeing events at Deer Lake again (save for the one I already have a ticket for on Monday; I'm going again).  

HOWEVER: the takeaway from that is, prepare for it. Read the stuff Ticketmaster sends about the show. Know your bus route into the park. Prepare for potentially long lineups by arriving (by transit -- the 144 bus will drop you near the Shadbolt Centre) early enough that you don't get stuck in it; arrive no later than 6pm, especially if you want to see the opening acts. Unless you're going to stand, prepare to be sitting on a pillow or towel on damp ground -- again, DO NOT BRING LAWNCHAIRS. Prepare for the likelihood that you will not be able to get food or refill a bottle if you arrive much later than 6 (unless you don't mind missing the first few songs, because he's going to start very soon after 8pm). And prepare to spring for the exits as soon as the last song ends, because you will NOT be allowed to just chill in the park for a bit -- no processing time is permitted. If you need a shirt, get there early.  

I'm super-glad I'm going again on Monday -- there was a lot of stuff to negotiate that worked against full enjoyment, but "Southern Man," "Ohio," "Big Crime," "Sun Green," "Powderfinger," "Cowgirl in the Sand"... I'm still real glad I went. And I ran into Gerald on the bus home, and he'd had a great night too. Glad Bev got to be there. And big respect to Mr. Young! 

(Psst, Neil, remember that wordy guy -- "Big Info Dump" -- on the archives who observed that he's never yet heard "Cortez the Killer" live? If you could do something about that on Monday, I'd be much obliged!). 

Clearcut comes back: Graham Greene, Shane Harvey, and some inside baseball about the production of the blu-ray extras (and the mysterious naked man)

Note: the film screening of Clearcut discussed at the end of this article comes with an invite to Indigenous attendees: you can claim free admission at the VIFF Centre on Sept. 26 and 28th, more on which below. Screening deets here!

To build on something I said on Facebook, I never directly interacted with Graham Greene, but I came close. The audio interview with Greene on the Severin Clearcut blu happened because the man who composed the soundtrack for that film, Shane Harvey, whom I had interviewed on Zoom for that disc, and who knew Greene, emailed me with Greene's phone number, telling me that he was down for an interview but that it had to happen ASAP ("it has to happen now!" may have been the exact phrase, in fact). When I got the email with Greene's number, I was, in fact, out of town with my wife's family, and we had some yet-larger family gathering planned that afternoon that required a trip to Victoria from the Cowichan Valley. They'd already facilitated my talking to Harvey via Zoom -- which is what you see on that disc extra, though they've edited his answers together, so you don't actually see me -- but we were practically getting our boots on when Shane's email hit: not the best time for an intimidating interview! Plus even if there had been time, the audio would have been shitty: with no way to internally record a phone call -- if there's an app that does that, I don't have it, which meant, given the tech available to me, I could only record it by turning on my cellphone speaker and using Zoom or some other external recording device, basically filming myself talking on the phone. This would have been maybe adequate for a written interview, assuming there were no dropouts, which can happen -- Zoom is not always great for recording off a speaker -- but even in the best case, it would very likely not have been good enough audio for an actual disc extra, which is what this was for. Not worth the risk, when it could possibly mean wasting Mr. Greene's time and blowing a one-shot opportunity.

I very quickly explained this to the person overseeing the extras, Kier-la Janisse, who actually DID have the tech set up to record an interview, tho' maybe was not expecting my "it has to be now! it has to be you!" email. I don't remember the full details, but we were looking at a near-zero-prep situation, and if I recall, she hadn't, at that point, even heard my full archival interview with the film's director, Ryszard Bugajski, which was fresh in my mind, as I had been prepping it just before the trip as an extra for the disc (the final version, made with the help of Dan Kibke, also appears on the blu as a commentary track). This meant I had a wealth of inside questions that she didn't, including some I thought it important for Greene to be allowed to answer, addressing things Bugajski had told me (both he and Greene were mildly critical of each other, suggesting they butted heads a little during the production). Bugajski in particular told one weird story in that interview involving a naked man running by a rehearsal room; what the hell was that, anyhow? I would have asked about that, if it had been me, but it was a slightly awkward question to try to frame, potentially goofy and embarrassing and, I mean, it's just a strange story. 

There was also a question of whether Greene's character in the film was a responsible representation of Indigenous activism, which a Lakota fellow I knew had remarked on, wondering why Greene would take such a negative, horrifying role, making Indigenous activism and land rights the stuff of a horror movie. That's something Bugajski had also mentioned white liberal critics having said! You want to frame a question like that carefully, especially when it's based on second-or-third hand reports. And all the while, Harvey's "call him now" was flashing in neon over our heads; cut to: image of Graham Greene, tapping his toe patiently beside his phone, waiting for us to call him... we've already been dithering for half an hour... eek!

Fretting and plotting continued a bit longer, with Kier-la and I texting or emailing each other, and I vividly recall having my wife's parents, who were finding it all a bit odd, pull over on the roadside in front of the Duncan Tim Horton's, I think it was, so I could send Kier-la a few pressing questions. I wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't used them -- they were awkward questions, which I myself would have been shy about framing, and they were *my* fucking questions, you know? I'm asking someone else to ask something I would have been nervous/ embarrassed to try to ask myself! Talk about doin' it to Julia! But that's what happened. I sent Kier-la the questions I had, and she rallied what questions she had, and she did the interview, while I was off at a social gathering with Erika's peeps, stuffin' my face with their food.

It's been a few years since the disc came out, and I have to confess: I only just checked out the extra so I could write this. Didn't even know until this week if she'd used the questions I sent, let alone what the answers were, until this past Wednesday. I was afraid to find out! What if he got pissed off at one of my questions? What if Greene didn't know what the fuck I was talking about, re: the mysterious naked man? If my texted-in questions bombed, it would have been a shameful thing for me, so I went full ostrich: I don't wanna know! It would almost be a relief if she skipped them altogether, I thought. Up until this evening, I hadn't built up the courage to find out how it went, though I've had the disc for a couple of years.

I'll let you check the extra yourself, if you have the blu-ray, to hear the answers, but suffice to say, I was delighted (and relieved) to finally hear the finished thing. Goddamn, Kier-la is good at what she does! She has her own questions, of course, but some of what she asks relates directly to my archival interview with Bugajski and the questions I sent her that day. You can hear her being somewhat ill-at-ease with the naked-man question, as I would have been, but it eventually does come up, and she bravely frames it and puts it to him quite convincingly. So I felt repped, and in a weird, indirect way, can say I have "sort of" had a conversation with Greene... still don't know who the mysterious naked man was, but at least he doesn't go, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

So thanks, Kier-la, for trusting me on that and going out there on that limb. In a way, Greene is speaking indirectly to Bugajski -- we're both just facilitating that. I do recommend that people interested in any of this visit BOTH her interview with Greene and my interview with Bugajski, both on the disc. It's not remotely like anything else I have been involved in. My blog, my writing, it all takes a backseat to my involvement on this blu. Actually, that blu has a ton of stuff from me, as extras -- Kier-la even gave me a co-producer credit on a couple of them, which is the only time you'll see me in that role! Plus there are extras from Kevin Howes, too, so if you are a fan of his, or Greene's, or want to hear my voice, pre-tongue-cancer -- I had not had any surgeries at all when I talked to Bugajski -- I heartily recommend it.

And now Graham Greene is gone. I think I would have liked him, had I met him. I suppose I thought that maybe Shane would introduce us someday when he was in Vancouver, and I'd swallow my panic and try to be cool, though I think I probably would have been a stammering dork, had that ever come to pass. I mean, how do you even make small talk with a guy that accomplished? So what was acting in a Die Hard movie like? Any Sam Shepard stories from Thunderheart? (Plus he's Indigenous, which adds an extra layer of nerves to the prospect, an extra level of opportunities to ram my foot into my mouth...).

I have heard it said that the role of Arthur in Clearcut was Greene's favourite-ever film role, which he does seem to go along with in the audio interview... he clearly was also invested in the spiritual angle of the film, and suggests that there was an element of Indigenous authorship to the movie, an on-set rewriting of the script to push that element forward.

Considering all that, in fact, as Shane Harvey also feels, it's a bit of a scandal that the film is not being mentioned in the obits I'm reading. I think people are still scared of this film. But it's also one of my favourite films, of Greene's or otherwise; the film I have the most history with (these will be the fifth and sixth public screenings I've been involved with, though the first one was off a German DVD and the second one ended up cancelled due to COVID!). Certainly there is no film out there that skewers white liberal hypocrisy, when it comes to Indigenous peoples, quite so pointedly or accurately.

And here's the real news: if you're local in Vancouver -- or if you prefer your movies projected on the big screen -- there will be TWO screenings of Clearcut at the VIFF Centre later this month, both in the main theatre, on Friday, September 26th, at 6:30, and Sunday, September 28th, at 4:20. Highly recommend your attendance! It does have a couple of scenes of torture (AKA "debarking") -- it's a pretty angry film -- but there's nothing out there quite like it, and Greene's performance truly is a career-best. 

Read the contemporary, Indigenous Ironbow review of the film, provided me by Ryszard, here. Excerpt:

Just like the justice system cannot give us justice, or violence cannot give us understanding, or wishy-washy liberal ideals cannot give us the reality of our every day lives - the film offers no heroes or bad guys for the audience to love or hate. This is exactly what makes it so appealing - the film grinds away at people's docile comfort in their belief that everything will turn out OK. That everything is somehow being taken care of and that solutions are in the ability to conform with the status quo. The audience is used to leaving the theatre with the problems resolved and their comfort restored.

Clearcut lets them leave with a lot of questions and hardly any answers.

And note, again, that Indigenous peoples can get free admission to these screenings. Shane and myself will be in attendance, we think for both days; there will be an opportunity for a Q&A. And Severin Films and VIFF will be donating 50 percent of box office to an Indigenous or environmental charity; deets as to which to be confirmed.

Links here! Thanks to Tom Charity for programming this so rapidly (he initiated it, not me, note; it's a very pleasant surprise). Again, Indigenous-identifying patrons (age 19+) can see the film free!

RIP, Graham Greene!

No time! Lots to do.

Murray Acton and Matt Fiorito are arrested in Ohio. Blind Marc was not with them -- it remains to be seen if they had a drummer who was travelling with them who also got arrested. They were stuck in jail through the long weekend but there should be news tomorrow. Many of my friends are upset and concerned. I am also upset and concerned. I hope they're okay.

Also, I'm bummed that Graham Greene died. He was only 73! This no longer seems remotely old to me.  

My wife and I had a holiday, but we're back home and back to work tomorrow.  I got my King Missile album signed, thanks to Stephen Hamm, but didn't get to see them. And I got stung by a wasp. 

September is show-rich: 

Scammers and Death Sentence Sept. 5

Neil Young Sept 6.

Indigenous reggae band Spiritual Warriors open for Loverboy at some festival in New West Sept. 7. Then Daddy Issues and Savage Henry in the evening (maybe). 

Neil Young again Sept 8. 

Steve Shelley, Bill Orcutt and Ethan Miller, September 9th.

Mudhoney September 13

Descendents Sept 14

Greg Norton/ Scott Reynolds/ SLIP~ons Sept 20

Sparks Sept 23 (sorry to the Who)

Maybe I'll see some of you there... more to come...

King Missile on Quadra!

 I say it all here!

https://www.straight.com/music/king-missile-theremin-man-and-more-ready-to-flock-to-quadrapalooza-2025

The Crucifucks, Steve Shelley, the Dead Kennedys and Me: Bev Davies Does It Again

...Or bev davies, as she may prefer. She found photos of Steve Shelley in Vancouver in 1984, on his first trip to Vancouver, drumming for the Crucifucks. Note: this article has been expanded to include some Steve Shelley stuff that didn't make the Straight piece(s)... which is NOW ONLINE. A part two is pending! 

But this is all apropos of the upcoming Orcutt/ Shelley / Miller gig at the Rickshaw. But it starts, as we see, with the Crucifucks. The best of B/bev's photos doesn't even have Steve Shelley in it (a second one follows): 

The Crucifucks, New York Theatre, Oct. 21, 1984, by bev davies, not to be reused without permission. I suspect that's Marc Hauser on bass... Gus Varner is on guitar... I wonder who the little kid is in the bottom right? (These were all-ages shows).

Steve Shelley and I talked a bit about the kit you see in these photos: “That’s a Pearl drum kit; it’s in the Sonic Youth studio now. I moved to New York with that drumkit! That’s kind of a funky drumkit. It was sold to me by an older musician in my hometown that had bought two of everything to make a double kit, so he had two kick drums and four tom toms; it was a monster kit, like a Rush-style kit, y’know? And he decided he was going to play country  music, so he sold me half of his double kit. With Urban Cowboy, country music was where the bucks were!”

He acquired it just before moving to New York -- it wasn't the kit he grew up with, he tells me. "But in that band Faith and Morals and in Strange Fruit, I would have had that Pearl kit."

He'd been in a school band--an orchestra band and a marching band--in his hometown of Michigan, but his real education, it seems, came from the drumkit he had in his parents basement. “I would go down and bash it out after dinner!” 

The rest of this is as previously ran; the Straight piece -- maybe a two-parter? -- will have more. But it turns out Steve Shelley and I have something in common, sort of. See, I was two years into being a punk rocker in 1984. I had only found out about the genre in 1982. Punk rock was not otherwise visible to me in elementary school, on television, on the radio, and then a friend played me Never Mind the Bollocks when I was 14. 

It was life-changing. By the time the Dead Kennedys played the New York Theatre (now just known as the York Theatre, but still open, on Commercial), back in October of 1984, I had all their records and even a bootleg (A Skateboard Party, whereupon you hear Jello sternly admonish the crowd, "These are the only shoes I have. Leave them alone"). 

But I also still had a fairly conservative upbringing with Catholic parents. I remember seeing the posters and flinching in horror from a band name the second night: the Crucifucks. How terrible! How offensive! How scary! I resolved to go only on the first night. Which I did. It was my first ever "real" Vancouver punk show (I was living in Maple Ridge at the time, and didn't drive, so it was a big deal to even get there and get home). Joey Shithead was a roadie, helping out onstage, but didn't perform (the crowd briefly chanted "Shit-head, Shit-head" until he looked out at them, irritated). I could have gone the second night, to see the Crucifucks, too (and Death Sentence, playing September 5th at LanaLou's with the Scammers!). I elected not to.

I didn't realize that I would become a Crucifucks fan. Enough of a fan that I would bug Steve Shelley about it at the merch table at the Biltmore, when he played here with Lee Ranaldo a few years back. "I want to interview you about your time in the Crucifucks!"

In case you didn't know, the Crucifucks' first album features Steve Shelley on drums, pre-Sonic Youth.  Compare the drums on "Go Bankrupt and Die" with "Stereo Sanctity." Sound like the same guy? It is. 

Shelley clearly wasn't as enthusiastic about the topic as I was. All he would say that night was that the Doc Dart in the Vice article, the guy who now refused to say his own former band's name and referred to them as the Christmas Folks, was completely different from the guy he'd known. I bugged him twice about it, in between pestering the band to sign stuff, but that seemed like all he was prepared to give me. So I told him I would write him, and that maybe we could talk Crucifucks if it served his interests, sometime. 

That was in 2013. I wrote him like I said I would. I never heard back. Then this happened (bandcamp here; Rickshaw gig info here): the time finally arrived where I could interview Steve about this very early band he was in, and it would actually (maybe) benefit him! 

But only if he wanted to. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, you know? Sometimes things happen in bands that kinda sour people's desire to talk about them, where you're left wondering, hmm, how bad did it get? Who amongst us has not tried to get Jim Imagawa to talk about his time in the Subhumans? (Neither Scott Beadle nor myself had much luck; we don't know why, but he really truly doesn't want to talk about it and at some point you just have to stop bugging the guy). 

...And sometimes when you find out, it's not fun, it's not entertaining, it's not "a good story," but something you wish you could go back to not knowing. People are only human, and sometimes humans can fuck up in spectacular, ugly, heartbreaking ways. I have made discreet inquiries about one local band we all know, who were destined to fall apart spectacularly, and whose name I will not now mention, to spare the innocent and guilty alike: finally hearing the sordid details of the end of that band a) saddened me, b) filled me with resolve never to repeat the story; and c) stopped me asking questions about it for all time. Some of you may not know the band I mean, but those of you who do are probably, like, "Yeah, Al, let's not go there." And those of you who don't, I assure you: it will just make you sad. You are better off. 

I do not know how much any of that applies to Steve Shelley's time in the Crucifucks, because there was only so far into it that Shelley would get. When I asked about the subject of Doc's animal rights activism, and if the band was expected to keep vegan, Shelley said "let's move on." So I would be unsurprised to learn that the Crucifucks were one such band. Doc Corbin Dart, the leader, was quite the unique character. You hear him on that first Crucifucks album prank calling the police to complain about his own band, so he could record their answers and put them between tracks; this is bordering on something a character in a Philip K. Dick novel would do, and yes, I'm thinking of A Scanner Darkly. Dart has had well-documented mental health struggles (with borderline personality disorder, apparently). He has a solo album, out of print, named for a counselor or therapist that he was seeing and apparently obsessed enough with to write songs about (an interesting review with links, here). Make sure you listen to "Out My Window." It's actually brilliant popcraft, a truly great song. 

But great songs can come from difficult people. I mentioned the Crucifucks in a conversation with another esteemed American punk recently, one who feels, like I do, that the Crucifucks were an amazing band (he'd actually seen them). But he also remarked, when I suggested that I thought from my conversation with Shelley that Doc might have been difficult to work with, that that was "because Doc was fucking insane!"

He said it with love, of course. Jello Biafra, too, when I spoke to him about Dart some years ago, was laughing in fondness and awe that Dart had changed his name to 26 and released an album called The Messiah, with images on the cover of one of his raccoon friends. I seem to recall reading, maybe in that Vice thing, that, along with "mystical practices," Dart had developed relationships with and given names to his backyard raccoons. 

I can dig that, actually -- I get real happy when I see neighbourhood rats, lately, and stop to say  hello to them, but the fact remains: when Jello Biafra regards you as an eccentric,  it means something.

In fact, The Messiah is a terrific album. Try "Animals," for instance. Doc -- excuse me, 26 -- is an animal rights advocate and rhymes "peace and love and pacifism" with "shallow sentimentalism," urging us to "get right with the animals." There's a lot of incredible musicianship and songwriting in Doc Dart's body of work, pre-and-post- Christmas Folks, and I wish him nothing but the best; I would interview him if I could. I think about him from time to time and wonder if he'll ever come back to making music. I've heard stories about him selling baseball cards and driving an SUV and if they're true I feel happy for him, I guess (as long as he's happy, y'know? I hope he isn't miserable).

But that's all the preamble you need. Who is this Doc Dart, who are these Crucifucks, and how much is Steve Shelley, when pressed, willing to share with me? (We did talk Crucifucks a bit!). You will see the answers to these questions and much more (including some great Neil Young stories, and lots about Sonic Youth, but no Moe Tucker: I forgot to ask) in maybe two weeks' time, before the Shelley-Orcutt-Miller show. 

In the meantime -- before I disappear from the blogosphere for awhile -- here are two photographs by Bev that I want to show you. These will suffice until my Steve Shelley interview finds its way online (if I am killed in a tragic blimp accident before September 9th, someone please transcribe the Zoom recording with Steve Shelley and get it to Mike, okay?). Because the Straight usually only has one article image, I wanted to show you these separately from that piece. If you've come here from the Straight website, hello. Welcome to my blog. 

Here's a Crucifucks photo from the same show with Steve Shelley plainly visible behind the drum kit:

Also by bev, not to be reused without permission"That's Gus, our guitar player," Steve Shelley notes...

And here is a photo Bev took the night before, of the Bill of Rights onstage. 

The Bill of Rights, October 20, 1984, by bev davies, not to be reused without permission

And the thing Steve Shelley and I have in common is that October 21st was his first real punk gig in Vancouver, while October 20th, the night before, was mine. He'd never played here before; I'd never gone to a show there before -- only stadium rock shows, never a real underground punk gig. 

And Bev took my photo, too. If you look in the audience, two people from the left of Rick, I think it is, and one row back, you will see this guy: 

That is 16 year old me, complete with hair (Steve still has his). It is also the first time Bev Davies took my photo -- though it was the second time she and I were at the same concert, since she and I both saw the Clash in May of that  year (I am not counting the Clash as a "real punk show," I guess, since it was at the Coliseum; it was an arena rock show, not a gig). Hey, maybe Steve was in the audience that night, too?

More to come! (And if you missed it, I put some of my photos of Bev on my PigsX7 review, here. And you can buy tickets for Orcutt-Shelley-Miller here. The bandcamp stuff is actually really cool. I'll have more to come with Ethan Miller, as well; and I wrote about Bill Orcutt here).  

Next stop Steve Shelley (as soon as I finish this other thing I'm working on).