Dead Bars Vancouver return: Friday recommendation

Thanks to Wayne McCarthy for the tip: Dead Bars this weekend is going to be great. Haven't seen the SLIP~ons in ages (see my past interviews with Brock Pytel here -- going back to his time in the Doughboys -- and here); I'm hoping anyone reading this already knows the band, but if not, they began life covering the Replacements (see half of their version of "Bastards of Young" here) and now do almost all originals. 

Looks like the SLIP~ons are opening the show for two Seattle bands -- a cool-sounding surf combo called the Boss Martians, who I have not seen before, and who will be a superb palate-cleanser between bands, since there is very little "Minneapolis" in what they do, and there's quite a bit in both the SLIP~ons and Dead Bars -- so having something very different in-between is a fine idea! 

Speaking of Minneapolis, there is some OBVIOUS POINT OF COMPARISON (early Lemonheads? I can't quite put my finger on it) in Dead Bars music that does NOT remind me of the holy Minneapolis trinity of the Replacements, Du, and Soul Asylum (though there's plenty of those, too -- maybe Soul Asylum too). I'm gonna chew on it, but try a few of their songs: "Freaks" is probably going to be on their setlist and has a charming sentiment set to anthemic, concise music. I also kind of like how they squeeze romanticism out of someone sharing earplugs at a gig -- shit, is it someone local they're reminding me of? That first screamed lyric ("This band is way too fucking loud!") totally reminds me of someone here and *I'm not getting it*, can't put my finger on it; who does that SOUND like?  I'm going to poll my friends. It feels like the sort of lyric Jesse Lebourdais would write but it doesn't sound like him! 

Plus they have a song about how hard it is to get a good night's sleep. I think some of you will identify. 

Anyhow, no interviews here, no fuss, might not even post photos but if you're looking for a gig on Friday, this is going to be great, methinks. Wayne says he saw them the last time they were in town and that it was terrific. I believe it (even if it's really the SLIP~ons I'm going for). 

Facebook event page here. 

We Found a Lovebird, while I meet some chickens, plus Black Mountain, Crummy, and more!

Memorable moments of the day:

1. These chickens, whom I visited today, are the most beautiful chickens,  probably the healthiest chickens, that  I have ever seen; green tailfeathers on a chicken is new to me, and they were plump and slow and dignified and gorgeous.  They are also the only chickens I have seen, as far as I recall, that had feathers on their feet; I did not realize before today that chicken footfeathers were a thing, though this perhaps is simply a matter of not being very observant. Or being distracted in my past chicken encounters by their behaviour (#ChickenAttackSurvivor, #Can'tFindthePhoto). 

I do not want to name the artist on whose property these chickens live, but I am happy to know she does not plan to eat them. These are rescue chickens, and a rescue rooster (their eggs can go fry, tho', ha, ha). Actually, the person who is looking after them has a remarkable new album coming out, more on which sometime soon, but she may not wish to be known by her devoted chicken husbandry (if someone looks after chickens, but they are a woman, what is the word for it? Can women practice husbandry, or do, uh, "chicken ladies" [sorry] have their own gendered term that I don't know? Poultrywiffery? And why IS it called husbandry, anyhow?).

2. Flash forward a bit, because points 1-3 are in sequence, the top three high points of the night: immediately prior to leaving for Black Mountain at the Rickshaw (where I stayed from about 10 to 1045), I enjoyed the hell out of dancing to the Butthole Surfers' "Goofy's Concern" as rendered by Crummy. It was the dancin', rockin' out high point of the night, at least in terms of my body's responses to it -- I am surprised to discover that I *can* dance like this, actually (which is to say, "with such vigor;" I lay no claims to skill. I am not entirely sure what all is in the caplet I took -- mushrooms, but maybe also herbal stimulants? Blue Meanies are a hell of a dancing aid, though). This will console me that I never really saw the Butts (did interview the Butt who wrote this song tho'. Nice guy! Here he is doing an alternate version of the song: know this one, Bert?). 

I guess it is a left-handed compliment that Crummy is #2 below chickens, but you beat Black Mountain, like. So there's that.

Actually, re: dancin', my heart was beating with such vigour after that song, I said to Bruce Wilson (who had miraculously re-grown a full head of hair), "If I fall down clutching my chest, call 911?). Got a laugh. I'm hardly even sore today (a bit hungover though). 

3. The sittin' down listenin' high point of the night, meanwhile, was Black Mountain doing "No Hits." I do not connect with their new stuff at all, and seeing it live didn't really change that -- not sure if it's me or them. Maybe they're just a band I have trapped in amber, fossilized for me forever since 2008, forever to dwell there, like I did with  Husker Du post-Zen Arcade? But I still loved "No Hits" (and the other songs I recognized: second most-danced-to song tonight was "Wucan"). Does it really matter that I still don't like their new stuff? It loses some of its grungy patina, for me, but who the hell am I, anyhow? They still have a huge audience and a huge presence, so my reaction is seriously not important. 

I didn't get any photos worth a damn but this is available for license to Pabst Blue Ribbon, if they want to pay me, for advertising purposes. I guess they'd have to clear it with the band. 

In fact, it was amusing to see the guy who had been talking to his buddies during the first couple of Black Mountain songs getting irritated with the drunk guy pictured, who was dancing with his Pabst can in the air, asking him to tone it down, because he was getting "distracting." I realized at that moment that I was on the side of the drunk guy, mildly amused by him, even.  

The girls who raised their let Bics in presumably ironic salute? Not so much. It was not, really, my audience, nor did I care for how packed it was, or how warm the air was (Green Auto had been nice and cool: better for dancing). But goddamn that "No Hits" tonight was great, though. It seemed like practically ten minutes from the "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" playbook, intercut with a bridge that took a few phases, climaxing into something very pounding and staccato, before veering back to psychedelic texture. It was magnificent, and the Blue Meanies worked well for just sitting there listening. Excited for anyone seeing them again tonight at Green Auto -- should be a hell of a show. 

Which is where I went back to, after "Wucan," though we now depart from both temporal and heirarchical sequence, as points 4 and onward, below, could be as easily scrambled any which way, as all of which follows was great: 

4. I began to worry almost as soon as I got into position: What the fuck is that on the back of Bruce Wilson's neck? Is this a disfigurement? It's totally unnatural: is he a reptile of some sort?! BRUCE WILSON IS AN ALIEN...! (no, wait: he's wearing a bald wig, a skullcap. Those are folds of fake skin. He still has hair under there. Whew!).

(Judith Beeman would ask me later on social media "what's that on his head," and I told her it was a whale placenta. Not sure why).

Bruce was pretty cold up there, without a shirt, he told me later. But colder is better from an audience point of view: you pay more attention. I always run classrooms I work in cold, if I can have my way -- so much so that I've had students ask if we can turn up the heat. 

If it is not clear, Bruce Wilson is one of the most compelling performers to watch in Vancouver. I liked the songs, but he's so gripping in his lithe, sinewy physicality that he counts as his own distraction from his own music, which I have nothing articulate to say about, though it too was compelling. He just has this remarkable way of seeming entirely, completely tensed, like his BMI must be a negative number or something. Does he do tai chi?  

One of the songs had to do with being star-fucked, I think. Interestingly, even though I could make out few of the lyrics, and remember no other lines now, I took this as a riff on being "star-crossed," as they say in Romeo and Juliet, and not on actual starfucking, as discussed by the Rolling Stones, despite the latter being the only previous reference to starfuckery I have encountered. I will be curious to hear that again. 

5. After Bruce played, it was Caveman & the Banshee, the presumed banshee of whom got down on the floor and spent some time amusing Hamm and I with her antics.

 A bit later in the set, while she was still performing, she came over to where I was sitting in back and sat on my arm, briefly, while continuing to sing. Her bum rubbed my elbow. Later, walking out into the alley, I passed her, and called, "Do you know NO FUN, the Beatles of Surrey? David M. of that band had been the only musician who sat on me before tonight." 

She giggled happily. 

Caveman and the Banshee ended their set on a cover of Iggy Pop. I felt like it was evidence of how well I was on their wavelength that, even though scarcely a note had been played, when she said they were going to do an Iggy Pop cover, I thought, "They're  going to do 'I'm Bored.'" Which was exactly what they did. 

6. Then came Crummy, and then a trek to the Rickshaw, and then I came back just in time to see the whole set from We Found a Lovebird (the Television comparison actually mostly suited the song "Details," and it was Terry's guitar that put me in mind of that band -- compare with "See No Evil," say -- though I couldn't tell you if that was the Verlaine or Richard Lloyd role that he was summoning). There was some great guitar interplay between Terry and Larry tonight, much of which did not in fact remind me of Television; there were also elements of the Paisley Underground and/ or shoegaze in what they did, I thought, lots of tingling, shimmering detail. They'd be a terrific band to put as an opener for the Dream Syndicate, if the Dream Syndicate ever come back to Vancouver, though of course you would have to put the New Modernettes on the bill, as well (may they please put out that album soon?). 

Anyhow, I enjoyed their set and was glad to take it in. I recorded clips of "Chet" and "Signal Hill." Hamm, at one point, seeing me in the audience, said, "I thought you left!" and I commented, "I came back! I just missed you."

Sorry, Hamm! Wayne McCarthy tells me the Space Family Band were terrific last night. Of course they were! But I saw them a few months ago, and I haven't seen Black Mountain since 2008, and had been gifted a ticket, so... I hope you understand! I will see you again ASAP.

BTW, Wayne also recommends the Dead Bars/ SLIP~ons gig next Friday at LanaLou's -- says Dead Bars are great, and of course, he and I met because I complimented him on his SLIP~ons shirt. I am past due for another SLIP~ons show. Apparently that will be Lana's birthday gig! 

Oh, and I made another new animal friend yesterday, too - a Kentucky rescue dog named Tucker. Hi, Tucker! Nice to meet you! (He lives with those chickens). 

A rich and varied day, in any case, punctuated with transit. No gigs for me tonight, I don't think, but I wonder if there will be any tickets at the door for Black Mountain? (Firefighter benefit, befitting McBean's new LA home, discussed here). 

We Found a Lovebird at Green Auto: Larry Lechner, Stephen Hamm and Bruce Wilson mini-interviews

We Found a Lovebird

Bruce Wilson (Tankhog/ Sunday Morning/ RxHx) agrees with me: the new album by We Found a Lovebird has a kind of Tom Verlaine/ Television quality to it. "I can definitely hear why comparisons to Tom Verlaine would be made. Maybe some Westerberg in spots too? I don’t know the We Found A Lovebird crew that well but it always makes me happy to run into Larry when we’re out and about. I like their guitar sound."

The Larry he means is We Found a Lovebird frontman Larry Lechner, who has been on the Vancouver music scene since his days in One Fell Swoop, footage of whom can be seen sandwiched between Poisoned and Nomeansno, around the 36 minute mark in this 1984 compendium of performers at a York Theatre independent music festival. It's vaguely "MoDaMu," if you're familiar with that scene, the avant-new-wave "modern dance music" clique that arose from the 1980s punk scene, featuring bands like Animal Slaves and Bolera Lava, though Lechner's sound has evolved since then. "One Fell Swoop became the Velveteens who morphed into Conrad who then became We Found a Lovebird," Lechner explains in an email. "And here we are. With a new album and everything!"

We Found a Lovebird headlines an ambitious bill this Saturday at Green Auto, the record release for With Friends Like These. (The album is now on bandcamp in full and can be previewed here, with discussion about the newest single, "Details" -- and was at Music Madhouse on vinyl, so I assume it can be purchased at the gig). 

Wilson's new project, RxHx, will play, kicking things off at 8pm. More on them a bit later! Wilson's longtime compatriot, Stephen Hamm, will do a "Space Family Band" set; Crummy, fronted by Bert Man (Little Guitar Army, Strugglers, and much more -- interviewed by me here and here), will perform; and out-of-towners Caveman & the Banshee will perform. It's a lot of music for your money, and sprawls out across the night long enough that I might actually try to double-dip, rushing back-and-forth between the Black Mountain show at the Rickshaw and the Green Auto (a back alley entrance above Pandora, just off Victoria Drive). I won't be able to take in everything, but...

So does Lechner agree with the Verlaine comparison? I hadn't noticed a Television connection when last I interviewed him. As sometimes happens, it's totally a coincidence -- though it turns out, I'm not the first person to go there. "Verlaine was not an influence at all actually," he writes. "I hadn’t heard of Television when Alex Varty first made the reference. After I heard Marquee Moon I felt very flattered, naturally."

L-to-R unless I have fucked up: Kerry MacPherson, Jay Solyom, Larry Lechner, Dave Charan, photo by Gord McCaw

With that, I'm going to revert to Q&A style for the remainder of this Larry Lechner interview:

Allan: Why call the album "With Friends Like These?" (Somehow that makes me think of the US under Trump, but that cannot possibly be the reference). I haven't actually HEARD the whole record -- it's not all on bandcamp, and I didn't buy it (yet) because I thought I would be at the show). Is there a lyric to that effect? Is it a unifying theme?

Larry: That title was suggested by Dave Charan (bass/vocals) and was originally more of a joke about how we're always ribbing each other. I expanded the meaning to: The songs we listen to can become some of our closest friends. We rely on them to transport us somewhere or jolt us awake. Either way, that’s what we expect from our friends, isn’t it? 

Allan: Let me ask about the song "Chet."  That Chet Baker documentary pissed me off to no end. It's got great footage but I have never seen a filmmaker JUDGE his subject quite so much -- I wanted to punch Weber, almost, when he asked Chet if he remembered the names of all his kids. So a) thank you for sticking up for Chet -- as that song seems to do; b) how and when was that song written? and c) Were there any other people you were thinking of, who the lyrics connected with (the late Mr. Chi Pig also lived very much on his own terms, and as problematic as those terms were, he stuck by them -- a sad story but, like, he stayed the course and lived the life he wanted to live...). Are there any musical "references" to Chet Baker's music in there, that I might have missed?

The lyrics of this song are Chet’s verbatim response when asked if he felt regret over his life. His response resonated deeply with me because he had only gratitude, zero regrets. That perspective is powerful. It’s not unlike the themes that run through many of our songs – nods to iconic artists, life’s moral conundrums, and the ever-present possibility of love. His response sounded like lyrics to me so I scribbled them down and set them to a weird little chord progression I was playing around with at the time. Was written last year sometime.

Thanks for doing it, it's a moving gesture. Do you have any particular history or connections with Hamm, Bruce Wilson, or Bert Man? Stories, favourite songs, whatever? (There is another band on the bill I do not know -- Caveman and the Banshee; do you have connections with them?

No history with Hamm or Bruce Wilson other than coming out of the same local scene back in the 80's. I cross paths with Hamm occasionally and we help each other with contacts, etc. As for Bert, his other band Chopper and the Saucermen played with us at Green Auto last year, so yeah we're fans of Bert and his various projects. This bill came together when Hamm contacted me looking for a show and mentioned Bruce and Caveman and the Banshee, who are from Nanaimo. Caveman has a new record out that they're touring to support and it seemed like an interesting and eclectic fit for the bill. It's gonna be a fun one!

Anything else we should say about the live set, the new album, or...?

The new album has been in the works since we released the first single "Sent On a Boat" back in 2020. It was recorded mostly live off the floor in our studio/rehearsal space in New Westminster between 2020 and 2024. Feels great to be getting the whole package out there. 

So let's check in, while we're at it, with Bruce Wilson: what is this RxHx project, how do I pronounce this band name, and what about Sunday Morning? Is that project -- truly an under-rated local band, worth your investigation -- now finished? (I read his answer initially wrong and thought it was, then read it again and felt relief; I would see them again!). 

Bruce Wilson: RxHx is a synth based solo side project I’ve been messing around with and this is its trial run. RxHx is medical shorthand for a patient’s prescription history and considering my former fondness for particular prescribed medications it seemed fitting. Pronounce it however you’d like but I usually just sound it out by the individual letters. I have yet to release anything but that’ll be coming soon—I just wanted to see if I can pull this off live and see how it feels. Musically I guess I’d say it falls somewhere in between Primal Scream’s XTRMNTR album and some of oOoOO’s earlier stuff….

Sunday Morning isn’t going anywhere. I’m mixing something now that ought to be out in the summer. Anyway I’m grateful to Hamm and the Lovebird folks for giving me a quick slot and I hope you can make it out! I’m on first at 8 pm sharp.  

 

Sunday Morning by Bob Hanham 

This is, of course, good news, because I do need to check out Black Mountain, you see. Their new album is a striking thing in that, while confident and committed and rockin', it reminds me of almost nothing I loved about their early material, which had a stoned East Van underachiever vibe to it -- not much of that on Destroyer; I think it's possible that if I'd heard the album spinning somewhere, I'd probably go, "hey, that keyboard player sounds a bit like Jeremy, is this his new band?" But at this point, you're either already going to that show or its Sunday Green Auto follow up, or you aren't; with the Green Auto show starting at 8, and We Found a Lovebird going on at 11, I can probably catch at least Bruce and Crummy and get a taste of Caveman and the Banshees before I hitch a ride, and then maybe jot BACK from the Rickshaw to see some of WFaL?  That is the plan, anyhow! 

Photo by me! What the heck was that beside Hamm? I'm still not sure.

Which probably  means missing Hamm, but, like, I have seen Hamm (including the Space Family Band) more than once, and while the Space Family Band is definitely a major evolution from his solo set, they are still pretty fresh in my memory from their Rickshaw debut a few months ago. Super-cool that he's expanded his reach so much. So I asked Hamm about that! 

Stephen Hamm: The first Theremin Man album was completely programmed, because I always saw the act as a one man show. I take inspiration from Quintron and Nash the Slash. My last record, Songs For The Future, I decided to have Shawn Mrazek, who I played in the Evaporators, lay down drums on my bed tracks and build the songs from there. I played bass on the tracks and even used some guitar, so yes it's been in the back of my mind to have Shawn join me on stage and maybe a full band because the songs were written and arranged that way... 

When I did the record release show at 604 Studios back in May of last year I had Felix Fung who worked on the album add guitar to the show. We toured as a duo for the Songs For The Future tour. The video and audio of the record release show, by the way, is being released on Light Organ Records this Friday. It kinda grew from there and when I got asked to open for the Pointed Sticks at the Rickshaw last December, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try a full band. We brought in my partner Tanya Bennett who played in Mink Valley on bass and Jovana Golubovic of Nightblossom on keyboards. So that's how this came together and the more we play the more it feels like a family. We're going to be doing mostly songs from Songs For The Future but there will be some added surprises! There will be lots more Theremin Man solo shows and when the family is available and the situation is right we'll do full band shows as well.

Thanks, Stephen... if any of the readers of this haven't seen it yet, check out Ani Kyd Wolf's superb video of Hamm's lead single off the new album, "Are You Receiving Me?" If you're bummed out at NOT having gotten Black Mountain tickets, the Green Auto show will be a superb alternative choice. 

Apologies to Bert Man for not having reached out, here, but surely everyone in Vancouver knows that Crummy rocks? If you don't, check out their classic Bowie cover here, their classic Butthole Surfers' cover here, and their tight-as-a-nun's-asshole punk tune -- also done by the Strugglers -- "Fucken Disaster" here. And, like, you all know the Little Guitar Army, right? This band REALLY EXISTED. Kind of hard to believe! 

See some of you Saturday -- if not at the Rickshaw, then Green Auto! 

Still my favourite photo of Bert, snapped by me, watching the Strugglers at Funkys years ago. 

Facebook page for Saturday's show here.  

Late to the party: We Found a Lovebird by Bob Hanham!

Dan Scum's return, and a lot of other music; plus two strange malls and a Husker Du cover!

The Riverdans live at LanaLou's: all photos by Allan MacInnis (but Don Denton was there too, if you want to see some actual good ones!)

True fact: I love the song "The Wind That Shakes the Barley." It's one of the few songs I have tried to learn to sing myself, back before my tongue got all fucked up with cancer (story here, if you  missed it; if you smoke, for chrissakes, quit). I even had the lyrics briefly memorized, found them full of pathos, power and passion. I first encountered the song at UBC, when I briefly tried (and failed), circa 2012, to get to the MA program in film studies, via a course taught by Mark Harris (RIP). Harris was a fellow Straight writer at the time, and very personable; I took two classes with him, one on Irish cinema and one on partisan cinema -- that is, movies about guerilla fighters, ranging from The Battle of Algiers to Red Dawn, with some anti-Nazi resistance like Melville's Army of Night, Verhoeven's Black Book, and Max Manus, Man of War in between; it was an inspired program of films, which not many people treat as a subgenre (he sold me on the wisdom of it and I'm sad that he's not around anymore). One film that I guess could fit in both classes was Ken Loach's superb movie of the same name, which uses the tune on the soundtrack -- The Wind That Shakes the Barley, starring a young Cillian Murphy, about Irish revolutionary activity circa 1920. The song gave me chills; I promptly found a copy on one of the few Clancy Brothers albums that you don't see in every thrift store, which remains in my collection today. It's such a powerful song I had to try it with my own voice -- and I may try it again today, at some point, inspired by hearing it yesterday; you can really achieve some serious gravitas, really put some POWER into the words of this tune, which allows you to plumb the deeper recesses of your voice.  

Turns out love of that song is something I have in common with Dan Scum. We've both also lived in Japan for awhile, but I suspect our experiences of the country were rather different! I have written about his other (?) band, Powerclown, here, having seen them only the one time, with a different singer; to my knowledge, his acapella "The Wind That Shakes the Barley," yesterday at the Punk Rock Flea Market, was the first time in my life I have heard the man sing. I didn't even recognize him as he took the stage -- he wasn't in a clown costume -- but as he announced the title, I leapt from my seat to get a better view, though I shot no video of it. The best songs don't get captured, usually, since they often take you by surprise.

That said, I did get clips of "The Leaving of Liverpool" and a delightful clapalong cover of Stan Rogers' "Barrett's Privateers," which is another song I sure wasn't expecting to hear at LanaLou's yesterday. Privateering -- hey, Dan, you know this tune? -- was a wartime practice by which people loyal to England could get permission to engage enemy ships (Yanks, in the case of the Rogers tune, the original of which is colourfully, but not completely, performed by Rogers and clan in this clip, if you're curious). The privateers -- an irregular, for-profit army -- should they take said enemy vessels, are allowed plunder their holds for profit, a kind of legalized robbery. The Stan Rogers original tells the story of a young Nova Scotian who signs up on a shitty little boat, the Antelope, with the hope of getting rich on the profits of his adventure, and instead loses his legs when the ship he is on gets blown to bits by better-armed Americans, left as miserable and alone as the protagonist of "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda," which I would also love to hear Scum sing someday...  

 

Anyhow, it was kind of crazily delightful to be introduced to Dan via "The Wind That Shakes the Barley." I could see some other audience member mouthing some of the lyrics imperfectly, across the stage, who would turn out to be the accordion player and co-vocalist, Daniel Craig Citynski, sitting out that first tune. It's kinda crazy, but I would love it if Scum -- he told me after that it's properly spelled with only one M, with the second only being added for social media purposes -- kept this project going, doing sets of Irish rebellion and Maritime folk and the like; I don't think a lot of punks actually know much beyond the Pogues in the way of Irish music!

Another great Irish song Dan may not know, that always makes me weep: "Kilkelly." Not a song of rebellion, but of loss, death, and familial love -- a song based on family letters, bridging the Atlantic, after a young man leaves Ireland for work in America. Jesus what a song (thanks to Mick Flannery for turning me onto that -- mini-interview here). It might not be great Riverdans material, though.

The Riverdans also did "Dirty Old Town," a song most people associate with the Pogues, but which in fact was written and first recorded by Ewan MacColl, the father of Kirsty MacColl, the woman with whom Shane sings "Fairtale of New York." It's another favourite, which I vividly remember singing along with (and getting some heavy stinkeye from fellow audience members, because my voice was pretty shit even then) when I saw The Pogues and Joe Strummer at the Commodore, one of my greatest concerts ever, with Shane passing whiskey bottles into the audience and a girl riding her boyfriend's shoulders flashing her tits at him from the audience. I was tempted to sing along again, but with my now mangled tongue, I restrained myself; but it also was a high point of the set, and one of the unexpected high points of my musical consumption this weekend, which is funny, because I spent more time at roots music shows than punk ones this weekend. You wouldn't have thought the best folk would have been at the punk show. There was no good punk at the folk shows! 

This was, of course, all happening at the Punk Rock Flea Market at LanaLou's, where we were also treated to a superb Husker Du cover by Cam Templeton/ Nicky Noodles/ Gnash Rambler (all one person, if that's unclear) and Brock Le Brock (Brock Pytel) of the SLIP~ons and Doughboys (interviewed by  me here). Nick -- Cam, whomever -- also did a cover of Brock's original "Heavy Machinery" and songs by the Replacements and others. I might post a second clip a bit later... 

But that was just last night. There was much else that went on this weekend of note. It was rather full, in fact, beginning with a trip Saturday to Maple Ridge, where I discovered that the main mall of my childhood -- "my  Monroeville," if you see what I mean, Haney Place Mall -- is 75% shuttered, with Walmart having driven up rents so high (so so Anthony Nadeau commented on FB) that everyone else was forced to flee. The jewelry store is gone, the Black Bond Books is gone, the Gamer's Choice is gone, the Thrifty's is gone. There still were no zombies staggering about but almost everything in there. all the shops of my youth and 20s -- is now derelict: 

Weirdly, in place of the Thrifty's, there is now a thrift store -- a gigantic Bibles for Missions. What does it say about the world that a grocery store cannot afford to rent that space but a thrift store can? Among other odd items there was a rare Sasquatch book, which was kind of overpriced considering the condition, and so remains there, if any cryptid enthusiasts are looking for it. The damage to the dust jacket was pretty significant and there was staining to the page ends, such that I suspect even an antiquarian book dealer would charge less than $25 for this item, valuable though it may be, unless they put significant time into cleaning it up. Always funny when a thrift store charges more for a book than a real bookstore would: 

I did manage, to my amazement, to find a book I actually did want, mind you: Geddy Lee's My Effin Life, in unread shape, for a mere $3. And crazily, speaking of punks gone rootsy, I snagged the Knitters' Poor Little Critter on the Road from the vinyl bin for a mere two bucks -- almost everything else was Mantovani-level garbage, so it came as a very pleasant surprise. 

But that wasn't the oddest "find" this weekend. I popped into another bookstore while in town and ran into someone I wasn't expecting to see at all, who recognized me before I recognized her. People for who recognize the words "Benjy's Island" -- I actually forget if she preferred it with a J or G, but she prefers most things with a J, har har, so let's leave it; she doesn't call herself that anymore, anyhow -- are directed either to visit the Bookcase, formerly Ken's Bookcase, formerly Jensen's Bookcase, one of the longest-standing used bookstores in Maple Ridge (mostly filled with aging paperback bestsellers; it's not an antiquarian store by far) or to avoid that locale forevermore, depending on how those words strike you. I do not know which camp I am in as yet but, startled to find myself face-to-face with her, it was still fun to catch up; she's someone I knew in my troubled youth, whose new status as bookstore proprietor rather suits her and delighted me; plus she's definitely more knowledgeable and creative than your average Maple Ridge used bookstore owner, with some fun stuff on the shelves, the oddest items of which were put on display behind the counter and not-for-sale, because the pricing would be complicated... 

This included (not that I care) a hardcover novelisation of The Thing screenplay, as done by Alan Dean Foster; a colourful item that I'm sure some collectors and film geeks out there would covet, though it is the sort of thing a serious antiquarian would turn their nose up at. I am not actually interested in such things myself, but I offered to help her work out a price, because in fact it is a bit of a complex item to get a bead on, with the only copy of the book in hardcover on Abe being listed at $950 USD, but as signed by Alan Dean Foster, which changes the game a bit. It's both the first HC of the book, and a book club edition -- those terms are not always contradictory! The way to price it, if one wanted to, would be to find a completed auction on eBay for a copy in comparable condition (if you're reading this and care, that's how to price it, Benj -- ignore Amazon and Abe and find what it actually has sold for on eBay, averaging it out and making allowances for defects).

Thence to the Hollywood 3, for a badly-projected Nosferatu that inspired me to update my well-read review from last month; suddenly it is very clear that the troubling element in that film is not in fact Victorian misogyny but a rather unhealthy narrative about child sexual abuse, survivorship, and closure; I would direct people who care here for more. 

But the weekend would take me from one weird mall to another: I spent the next morning trekking out to the bizarrely-located Music Madhouse Records in the Coquitlam/ Burquitlam hinterland, a store which is inside an apartment building in a ghost mall. Actually, there was another Dan involved in that, too, my friend Dan Kibke, who had purchased online an album proprietor Rob Snopek had posted, the Stitching Small Tears electronic music compilation. There is a fair bit more stock in the shop than when I last visited, some ten years ago, and quite a bit more interesting stuff; Dan snagged a Stomu Yamash'ta, and I found a Mission of Burma, which is fun, because I'm in the middle of doing something (shh) with Peter Prescott. There were other records we considered, and something else Dan bought that I've forgotten -- some local avant-rock thing of yore.  

Music Madhouse is by far the most colourfully-located record store in the lower mainland, beating out even Apollo Music in Coquitlam, because you can explore the mostly derelict mall and peek into other businesses. I had to see what the stock was like at the indoor corner store offering "Video Movie Rentals." 

These turned out to be VHS tapes. There were no blu-rays, no DVDs. We did a scan for the titles, but I spotted no hotly-desired collectibles that I could see, though there are a few movies here, I think, that never made it onto digital -- forgotten titles of the distant past. One wonders if they still work, and if anyone still actually rents them? 

The presence of these tapes made one wonder just how long some of the treats had been on the shelf. I briefly scanned to see if there were any boxes of Gorgo to be seen. These Joe (Jos?) Louis looked pretty dusty -- do they even make them anymore?

Anyhow, if you like VHS tapes, vinyl, or "vintage snacks," especially as found in quaint, semi-derelict spaces -- "ghost malls" -- there's a fun daytrip to be had. Get detailed directions, but not from me, because the street it is on is one of those streets with a 90% turn in it, which you will assume is a different street. Even with a working GPS, it took us about twenty minutes to find it, after our arrival at Lougheed Mall, and then another ten to actually locate the fuckin' entrance. Allow some extra time for navigation, if you go.  

Oh, and I gave serious consideration to buying the new We Found a Lovebird album, which Rob was spinning -- he's an ardent supporter of local music. I had never twigged at how much Larry Lechner can sound like Tom Verlaine. There's a show coming up with stellar supporting acts, and I resolved to buy the album there, if I buy it at all; I may have family obligations that weekend, it remains to be seen (this coming Saturday at Green Auto). 

There was also a brief peek into the Heatley, where I said hello to Sue Decker (see previous post) and bought a CD; sadly, I forgot to bring her my Harlan County USA soundtrack, which I intended to gift her, but she's from Victoria, so there will be other chances. I recorded one song she did, from her first LP. She also recommended I buy an album from Edmontonian Miles Zurawell, which I did, having found his first set delightful. But we had a Punk Rock Flea Market to go to. I didn't end up recording another song by Bob Blair, who I'd enjoyed the previous day, though he did a tune that has its provenance in Boots Randolph and Chet Atkins but for me, given my childhood TV viewing, brings to mind one thing only: Benny Hill. You can here Atkins' version here.  

So that was a fun, action packed weekend, that also included my first viewings of two superb new horror films, The Substance -- a high-concept feminist SF film that turns into a full on body horror/ splatter/ melt movie, about as subdued as your average GWAR show -- and Heretic, which pits an evil but charming atheist against two naive (but surprisingly resourceful) young Mormon girls, going door-to-door. It's written and directed by the people who did A Quiet Place, and has a whoppingly good performance by Hugh Grant, but it's as talky as it is menacing, so you may find yourself veering between edge-of-your-seat tension and the temptation to snooze. We liked it regardless! Note that Walmart has both of these titles for about $20 less than you'll pay at video stores, so yes, I did go INTO that Maple Ridge Walmart. That's what got me into the mall, in fact. It was kind of sad to see its decline, but then again, I have always had a love-hate relationship with that mall, and I did find a book and a record I wanted at the thrift store, so...