Art D'Ecco vs. the Vicious Cycles MC: a Busy Night in a Gig-Intensive Week

Bad cellphone photography by Allan MacInnis

My life has gotten gig-intensive again. Gnick Gnash and the Minus 5 last weekend, then Dead Bob on Monday, and I (sorta) took in *two*  last night, somehow. And I might have two more this Saturday -- the Rocket Revellers are at the Heatley and Never Plenty, who I really dig, is part of a bill at the Rickshaw. They're terrific, a must-see (wrote about them here). More to come about them, possibly later today. 

As for the two shows I saw last night, turns out that Art D'Ecco remind(s) me of 1980s movies where there is a scene where live music is happening and people with expensive haircuts and nice clothes are playing some variant on new wave that involves a saxophone, if you see what I mean. The saxophone player may or may not have a headband, but he will definitely have a suit jacket on (or possibly leather?) and may be played by a young Jason Patric. There could be vampires, or else maybe significant interest in the love life of a young Molly Ringwald, or maybe Michael J. Fox is in it, but the saxophone is kind of obligatory.

You feel like you've seen that scene in a few movies, right?

Well: sorry, Art D'Ecco, it ain't your fault, but I never liked those kinds of movies, nor do I generally like the music that was being played in those scenes. Understand that in the 1980s, I was pretty invested in an oppositional cultural movement, hardcore punk, and that anything that seemed "actually popular," commercially successful or radio-friendly put me off (I even stopped buying some bands' records at precisely the moment they started getting noticed, like the Replacements, X, and Soul Asylum, all of whom had some degree of mainstream attention and all of whom I jumped off-board from at precisely that point). 

And yes, sure, there are some albums from that time (say by the Tom Tom Club or, like, even Cyndi Lauper) that I now realize are absolutely delightful, that transcend and school my objections, but I still have a mild hurdle to overcome when it comes to anything remotely 80s'-new-wavish. (And as for film, I didn't like The Lost Boys much, never saw Sixteen Candles, and spent most of the 80's re-watching either The Thing or The Evil Dead, movies in which NO SAXOPHONES ARE PLAYED).

NONE OF THAT IS ART D'ECCO's FAULT, it's just the "confessions of the asshole writing this," so Art D'Ecco fans have a basis to dismiss my opinions here. There is no denying that Art D'Ecco (the band, not the singer; I refer to them as an entity, with no idea what the proper procedure is) have charisma and talent and that they performed with commitment, creativity and style. It is not a bad thing that I thought, say, of Brian Ferry and Sparks while listening to them (though the comparisons are pretty superficial and possibly transient). They even did one particularly glammy song I kinda liked, which turned out to be (to my surprise) a new one, "I Feel Alive." Also, I shot one video of them in their incarnation last night, "TV God" -- studio version here -- so my friend who gave me the ticket would be able to see what she missed... There was exactly one false note (D'Ecco was a bit "How the fuck are you Vancouver" during some of his between-song shouts, suddenly getting more Guns 'n'Roses than Flock of Seagulls, if you see what I mean... I'd suggest something dryer?). But they are a real band, worthy of real attention... 

...just not from me; they join Destroyer and the New Pornographers on the shortlist of "bands from here who I begrudge nothing but care not at all about"). I only saw about half the set (and Dour's, who were more on the Joy Division/ Cure end of the 80s spectrum, despite being maybe half my age; I guess I'm not entirely clear on young folk's attachment to music of this time?). Dour was down a member (the bassist had to have an operation, I was told, so one of the guitarists was subbing in), but it didn't sound in any way lacking, to me, just also not really my cuppa (tbh I never really did Joy Division, either!). 

I had joined the Rob Frith table (he texted me when he saw me enter to invite me), and sat and chatted next to his friend Ian (of Penticton radio show Sound Explorer, who loves Art D'Ecco). Ian recommends Trespasser, which I did not end up buying, but I bet Robert Dayton has it!

There was also a Doug at the table, who Rob knew, but I did not interact with him at all; apparently Doug has a Youtube channel called Noise from the Cranium (which featured Rob on a show about the rare Beatles demo). So be consoled, Art D'Ecco, because, as far as I can see, those guys ate you up! 

As for me, when Rob Frith suggested we split early to see his son's band, the Vicious Cycles MC., upstairs at the Penthouse -- which is where Tyrant Studios is -- I was, like, "Yeah!" And no progeny of mine are in that band. We ended up in an uber (Rob does not *bus*), made it to the Penthouse yappin' about some band or other, and got there -- having to declare at the door whether we were there for strippers or music -- in time to see a bit of Zafirios, who I have seen in a few contexts now and was glad to see doing his originals; I've generally only caught him/ them at tribute shows. I do not feel obliged to really attempt to evaluate Zafirios, however! But I took a photo. 

...and speaking of photos, here's a funny story: at the Godspeed You! Black Emperor show the other week -- see here and here for my writing on that -- there was a guy waiting to interact with Efrim, at the end of the second night, I think mostly to show off his GY!BE tattoo (his first of many, as I recall). I had been chatting with him and so snapped his photo. I think his name might have been Jason?

Well, I had no idea when I took that shot that he had been the cover model for the new Vicious Cycles album, Get Wrecked. Ben (said Frith progeny/ VC's drummer) laughed about it when I came into Neptoon, while Rob Wright (no, not THAT Rob Wright: the VC's bassist) commented about it on Facebook. Sure enough, that's the guy! 

Looks like a GREAT album cover to get signed by the band, dunnit? The thing is, though, I'd been riding for free all night. I'd been comped into Art D'Ecco, and Rob (Frith, not Wright) comped me into the VCs, so I had hit no bank machines, had no cash. But of course, their merch table was cash only, and though there was a bank machine in the building, I really didn't want to do those stairs again (I was still winded from coming up!). I lamely explained this to Rob Wright, promised (he does actually know me) that I would e-transfer him tomorrow, and (borrowing a Sharpie, too) commenced getting scribbles on the cover: Rob first, then Norman, then Nick (the only VC who had been at the Minus 5, unless I missed someone. You got good taste, Nick!): 

But where's Ben? (Well: I do sometimes see him at his dayjob...). He wasn't manifesting, but on the way up the long flights of stairs to the music-level, I had seen Billy Bones, the VC's singer, on the way down, where (I learned later) he was going to meet his wife and mother (who had come out from Saskatchewan for the show! Billy would introduce her from the stage later in the night, and I would offer her my seat, though she declined). So if I wanted Billy's signature (and I did, I did) I would have to go downstairs anyway. I wonder if there were actually more stairs involved in the experience last night than there were at the Railway? 

Possibly.  Several flights, like this one. Hey, look, that's the ATM, too! Highest charge in town?

This all matters to the evening's most surprising moment: how I gave money ($10) to a stripper for the first time in my life, tucking it into her garter. How did I end up there? 

Well, on the way back up, since I no longer had an excuse of not wanting to traverse the stairs, I of COURSE hit the bank machine, wincing at the $4.75 fee, then promptly brought Rob at the merch table his $30 (running into Ben along the way and getting his signature too, between the... what's that part of the bike called, anyhow? I dunno from bikes). Rob (W) got me change from the bar -- a ten back from two twenties. I took a couple of photos of Billy at the piano, singing a new song to his bike called "Scheduled Maintenance," which involved him apologizing that he hadn't changed her oil or greased her chain in too long -- it was a funny song! But then, as Ben kicked in with a hammering beat, I had an unpleasant surprise: my phone died!

How was I gonna go through a whole gig with no battery?! Added to which, I had to text my wife to let her know when I'd be home (come to think of it, I haven't greased her chain in awhile, either!). So now I was desperate: how could I get some charge on my phone? (I had no cable with me).

While Billy and the sound guy sorted out some microphone issues (we could barely hear him on the first song), I commenced my Quest for Power. 

Bartender upstairs: "No, sorry, try downstairs." 

Stairs again! 

Bartender downstairs: "No, sorry, try the DJ" (points to far corner). I begin to head towards the DJ booth then realize: IT IS ON THE FAR CORNER PAST A NAKED WOMAN, onstage: a cute brunette with a slightly evil glimmer in her eye, who was sticking her thigh into men's faces (and one maybe-woman's? Or possibly gender-unspecified, but she/ they were RIGHT UP FRONT at what my buddies used to call "gynaecology row," AKA, "the meat seats." Nice to see that the audience for strippers has varied a bit; the stripper seemed to appreciate it too, but maybe because, y'know, money is money? She did seem to linger a bit, though). 

Anyhoo, it just felt like it would be gauche to march right by her, so I cooled my jets, sat down, and -- I mean, I probably watched her a bit, but, like, only to be polite (I sure didn't take her photograph. I wonder how strip clubs handle cell phones, these days? I literally have not been in one since I got mine). 

(not my photo; go here!). 

I have no idea what the expression on my face might have been, viewed from the stage. I was sitting at a distance, probably thinking about the Vicious Cycles, when the stripper made eye contact with me and smiled (again, slightly evilly; she looked like someone out of a Jim Thompson novel, maybe, who had a bottle of gin in her purse, a boyfriend in prison, and a profitable hustle in mind): "I know YOU want to put something in here," she called to me (she meant her garter belt).  

I laughed and shook my head.

Then began to feel guilty. I had that $10 in my pocket, after all. I'd considered tipping anyone who, like, gave me a charge. So finally -- she had moved on to sticking her thigh at someone else -- I went, "all right, all right" and walked over to her. 

"Stick it in there!" she said, holding her garter belt open. 

I did as I was told, and she snapped it shut in a way that must have been just a little painful (paying for her sins, maybe?). It was definitely decisive-seeming: THIS IS MY MONEY NOW. In the process, my fingertip briefly touched her thigh (accidentally, I swear!). Afterwards, it smelled vaguely of sandalwood. I mean, you would sniff it too, wouldn't you? (I hope I do not end up in the proverbial doghouse, here). 

But the best part about the whole thing was: I now felt totally empowered and entitled to walk over to the DJ booth and get my phone charged for a few minutes, long enough to run back upstairs to dance around to "I Love My Bike." (I was glad to get one song's worth of dancing in but I think the majority of the evening's exercise was stairs, alas). It's off their first LP, which is my second fave so far (I'm a Bad News Travels Fast man, mostly, perhaps because that was the album I first interviewed them about; we did chat about their next album, too, which is maybe a bit more playful and self-aware, and certainly has a richer palette, but somehow didn't grab me as much?).

Then it's back downstairs to the DJ booth, where I retrieved my phone and peeked briefly at the CCTV images (I guess for security purposes) on the monitors in the booth of the people getting private dances (do they know they're on TV?). Then I ran back upstairs, powering up on the way, and danced to my favourite Vicious Cycles song ("Just a Ratbike," also a song Billy sings to his bike) and shot a handful of photos. I also managed to text my wife, before it all died again! 

I enjoyed much of the set but have nothing cogent to say about it. Billy got up on several surfaces -- tables, what-have-you. He had great interest in the ceiling, for some reason. I would have loved to have gotten video, but I must have only gotten, like, 4% worth of charge on my stripper-adventure. What you see is what I got, kinda. Tyrant Studios, meantime, was small and intimate and fun, very much like the front area of the vintage Railway Club -- seats and tables on the margins, small dance area. Stage was smaller, though... Norman was kinda tucked in the corner...

It's just as well that my battery was dead, though, because I noticed that Rob (F), who'd been drinking wine, had nodded off at the table where he was seated, and I probably would have taken his photo, which would have been ungrateful of me (if funny). Thanks, Rob, for getting me out of Art D'Ecco and into the Penthouse, and thanks to (I guess she'd want to be named?) THE GREAT Judith Beeman for the Art D'Ecco ticket: I appreciated the chance to experience him/them, even if he/ they ultimately wasn't weren't my thing. (Note: Art D'Ecco is a he, as far as I know, I just don't know if he's Alice Coopering his band -- if they have the same name, like? Art D'Ecco feels more like a bandname than one dude but it is definitely his stage name, and the band seems to vary around him. Some people have said they liked his previous band better, but I never saw them).... 

While I am thanking people, though, thanks are also due to Aaron Chapman, who has a Vancouver Vice walking tour this weekend, though it appears to be sold out? I should go on one of those someday. He is also apparently going over to Victoria with Art D'Ecco to see them tonight. 

The upshot of the night is that I came away with this nifty signed record. Ben even asked the spelling of my name, and then (unlike some people I could mention) followed up by spelling it correctly (I've told people A-L-L-A-N and still gotten an ALAN or an ALLEN or once an ALANN: What the hell?). There are two colour variants for the vinyl and copies at Neptoon and elsewhere. Great, fun band! Haven't spun this one yet, but soon, I promise. 

Now as for THIS weekend...

Dead Bob gig June 9 2025: 20 photos plus "toilet bonus"

 ...and one video. Awesome gig. Danced so hard I had to change my shirt. Lucky they had some for sale! 

A few new songs -- there was a "Humans" on the setlist that was not the Nomeansno "Humans," a song called "No Fun" that was not the Stooges' "No Fun," and the oldest new one, "Hard is Hard." There was also an awesome "Long Days," but I was too busy dancing to shoot video for that. 

The sad part is, it was all happening only because their visas didn't come through. The tour with Ultrabomb is probably scuttled. Not likely to see them in such an intimate space again anytime soon (fun that Barry Benson of the Spores and Aging Youth Gang was right up front with me!).

Light wasn't great but I like these shots anyhow:

Got some punk rock bathroom shots, too!

The Minus 5 LIVE AT THE BILTMORE June 8th, 2025: a post-gig report, plus Sacheen Littlefeather and Neil Young

Scott McCaughey and Kurt Bloch of the Minus 5, by Erik Iversen, not to be reused without permission

All black and white images by Erik Iversen; most colour images below by me, except Debbi, Kurt, and the setlist by Rob Frith! 

So yesterday was quite something. The day essentially began with my racing out to Rick Roll Records in Burnaby Heights. When they opened at 11, in fact, I was already on the 130 Willingdon bus towards them, calling them to put a record on hold before anyone else had gotten there (they have a searchable database, if you want to find out if they have something; I'd looked up the Minus 5 the night before and received a surprise hit). The Ricks of Rick Roll -- the shop is run by two guys named Rick -- get in stuff you don't necessarily expect, like, what the fuck is this thing that I bought yesterday?: 

They also were the place where I found a copy of the Circle Jerks Wonderful on Porterhouse, the more legit of the two versions of that album that that label put out. The fact it should have shown up in town at all was a mystery to Steve K., the guy behind that label, when we spoke, since he didn't distribute that album in Canada, and he is pretty hands-on about distro. The Rick on till was able to illuminate me, explaining about how the other Rick would go on runs to pick things up in Washington, so there are things you can find there not common on the shelves at other Vancouver record stores. Like, does anyone else in Vancouver have a Death Valley Girls section? They have three whole albums in stock! (I photographed it for Erik Iversen because I know he's a fan, but he has all three). 

You Watt-heads out there should also know that they have the Unknown Instructors' Unwilling to Explain at the moment, for $20 in the used section, with Watt, Saccharine Trust's Joe Baiza, J. Mascis, and I guess George Hurley still on drums, accompanying poetry read by Daniel McGuire but not necessarily written by him (there is a cool version of Robert Frost's "Acquainted with the Night" on it, from whence comes the title). I don't get out to this shop very often -- it might be in the old Hooked on Phono space? (I think Hooked on Phono moved online?). But when I do, I always find a couple things I didn't expect to see. 

...Such as Oar On, Penelope!, the absolutely stellar new album by the Minus 5, which I'd called every other shop around about. They appear to have had the single copy that made it to Vancouver. It was discussed from the stage, later in the night at the Biltmore, with Scott McCaughey saying, "Apparently one copy of that came into town." I shouted back from where I was getting water, "I got it!" (Don't want to send anyone out with false hopes). Thank  you to Rick Roll Records for being men of unusual taste! 

It is a normal-sized record, though it looks smaller because of a trick of perspective.

Then it was a matter of racing back home (where I am flying solo while Erika visits her folks) and removing all my records from their sleeves, including this one, so they wouldn't warp from the heat or weigh me down too much, then pack the covers for signing. While there, I took a nap, did laundry, read a few pages of Ready Player One (great read, very different from the film) and did other life-things until Rob Frith of Neptoon Records texted me around 3 to say the Minus 5 were in town and were in fact at the coffee shop across the street from his store (we fans gotta look out for each other; in turn, I helped secure him a ticket). By the time I got there, commuting from Burnaby, the band had already been in his store and left. It would develop in later conversation that they had heard about Rob's Beatles find, but didn't realize that's who they were talking to -- the guy who found the Decca tape; they were, like, "Was that the guy?!" They were impressed. He'd been showing them the killer box of 7"s he'd gotten in, some of which (like the one by "Jethro Toe") they had equally heard of, but never seen. $700 for the original 7" of "Space Oddity"? Uh, cool! (I don't think the Buck/ Bloch/ McCaughey collector's impulse was stoked for these but they had fun taking a peek at them). 

Despite Rob's text, I probably would have missed the band one way or another. Having arrived at Main St. to see the Number 3 bus pulling away, to save myself some awkward backing-and-forthing up and down Main, I first went the opposite direction to visit -- speaking of under-appreciated Vancouver record shopping destinations -- Noize to Go, where Dale was holding a copy of Ladies and Gentlemen, the Bangles! for me. That's Debbi Peterson in the foreground: though she was the Bangles' drummer, she did keyboards, guitars, and shared vocal duties last night (birthday girl Linda Pitmon, not in the Bangles, was the drummer). This is a comp of their early material, including, I believe, stuff they recorded as the Bangs. It is very different from the polished pop sounds they became famous for:   

Debbi last night by Rob Frith

Linda Pitmon (not a Bangle!) by Erik Iversen, not to be reused without permission. 

I had missed that this album existed -- it came out in 2014. But of course, Dale, who is a chatty dude, had some other record he wanted to tell me about, a Peter Buck side project he had had in stock, which apparently was released via... Barnes and Noble?! It sounded real piquant. I woulda bought it if it had still been in the store!

But he had actually sold that record, so it really made no difference to me, so I escaped Dale and raced back to a bus stop to Neptoon to get the Bangles' All Over the Place, which Mike Usinger had been enthusing about while we back-and-forthed about the McCaughey feature I'd done (he said he doesn't even really like pop music but thought that record was magnificent -- the one that kicks of with "Hero Takes a Fall," y'know? You can hear the whole thing here; that's Debbi on the couch). But the band had long gone, once I arrived, heading to the Biltmore for soundcheck. 

It became kind of a weird point of pride, having less common stuff for the band to sign: "Look, guys, he has the No Ones on vinyl!" (and so forth). Figured I might not get another chance and that they'd feel appreciated to see their records in the good company of other cool records. 

Peter Buck by Erik Iversen, not to be reused without permission

My most interesting Buck-finds were I Am Back to Blow Your Mind Once Again, gotten only the other day out of Fascinating Rhythm in Nanaimo -- another great space for finding unexpected stuff -- and the Original Sins Move, which Buck was a producer on, and was the only album of mine he really remarked upon from my stack ("That's a good record!" I think he was impressed/ surprised to see it). I've actually had that one around for awhile (and have Brother JT's signature on it, too; I bought it off him via mail around the time we did this interview. Or was it this one? The former, I think. I actually like Big Soul and Self-Destruct better but Move is really meaty, with a lot of variety and vibrancy. Under-sung Stoogey garage-punk). I was happy that Peter was happy to see it.  

Mostly it was boringly obvious stuff in my stack for him, sadly -- early REM stuff, personal faves (Fables of the Reconstruction, Life's Rich Pageant, Reckoning, Dead Letter Office). I do feel I could have gotten some more impressive/ obscure material, but I was tickled that he signed my favourite REM bootleg, a So Much Younger Then. "Is it wrong that I'm asking you to sign a bootleg?"/ "Ah, fuck, I don't care." That's his scribble! 

That was my only real special item, a fascinating document, also available in a longer format as the "Georgia Peaches" boot. The version I have is almost all stuff that the band had stopped playing by the time they made their first record, including my favourite rarity of theirs, "Narrator (for the Jacques Cousteau Show)," a goofy, spunky surf-punk ditty which would later be done by the Hindu Love Gods. The singer presents as having a (possibly sexual?) Jacques Cousteau fixation (I prefer to think of it as sexual, anyhow; it's funnier). Rather than ask Buck if he wanted to do an interview (he does not!), I should have just asked about that song, but he was very much about boundaries last night, and clearly tired (I resisted the urge to photograph him napping but maybe I should go put a sticker in the booth at the Biltmore where he stretched out: "Peter Buck napped here": First booth on the left, side closest to the door as you come in!). 

Peter Buck (background) and Kurt Bloch (foreground) by Rob Frith

One thing he wasn't willing to sign, I realized afterwards, was my Hindu Love Gods record -- I noticed afterwards that he had skipped that one. I think there may still be some hard feelings there (my understanding was, it began as a casual jam session between friends, not intended for release, but Zevon's people decided otherwise and got a bit underhanded about making it into a record. I should see if it's in the Zevon book...). He also didn't sign my 7", but I don't know if that was a similarly contentious release, or if the whole project just leaves a bad taste in his mouth now? It's a side of both REM and Warren Zevon that we wouldn't have heard otherwise, maybe. As a complete outsider to the deal, I'm really glad to have them -- and their not being signed at least now comes with a story.  

And I don't mean to gripe. I was happy he signed ANY records. Some people (like Pete Campbell) commented that he didn't seem to be having a very good time yesterday (some wit was heard to quip, "Did his dog die?"), but we gather he was simply having some pain issues (I don't want to say much more but he was pushin' to just play, I think, and he played well, so let's leave it there; hope everything is resolved soon). 

Scott McCaughey by Erik Iversen, not to be reused, etc.

But speaking of autograph-hunting, I wonder how Gerald made out? Last I saw him he was lurking for Peter to come out, but I warned him not to get his hopes up. I find in my quest for signed records I begin to have things in common with Gerald, feel an odd kinship with him. And yet at the same time, I'd kinda also feel special about having a dozen signed Peter Buck albums more than Gerald has. Did I one-up Gerald this time?

That guy has so much signed stuff...

. 

I was also pleased, when I was waiting around for the band to come over, that Scott liked my Frogs shirt, and agreed it was one of the best bad movies out there. 

As for gifts, I gave the band -- mostly Scott, Peter, and Kurt -- Pink Steel 7 inches, Sweaters CDs, and varied NO FUN rarities (and a Phil Ochs record for Scott, as previously mentioned). The gig was magical -- also the Samantha Parton opening set -- but I can't do much to impart the feelings of it. You either were there or you weren't (and really, it was disappointing/ mildly surprising that the room wasn't fuller). Plus for me, the experience was coloured by all the activity before and after -- one of those nights where the epiphenomena (talking to Scott and the rest of the band, hearing "Bison Queen," "Falling Like Jets," and a few other full songs in soundcheck, chatting with Rob Frith and Kevin Statham and Erik Iversen and so forth) really kinda outdid being at the gig itself, though I for one was very happy that we got to hear more of Oar On, Penelope! than any other audiences ever will.

Setlist courtesy Rob Frith

It made me want to use what press mojo I have to get into more soundchecks, because I really enjoyed that portion of the night. "Bison Queen" is great in any format but when you're the only person there (besides the soundguy and tour manager and bartenders, obviously), it takes on a real aura of specialness (really brought out the Beatles in it, in particular).

My favourite song in the actual set, it would transpire, was "Hitchhiker," a Neil Young cover (one of two of Neil's songs that they did; they also covered an early one, "Out of My Mind," which I don't know well. They never did get around to "Don't Be Denied," I don't think. It's on that Cortez Calling album, and on the setlist. Did they do that? They didn't... did they?). "Hitchhiker" -- about dope and fame, equally -- is great Neil deep dive that went unreleased for a very long time; it's a song Neil would later cannibalize and rewrite as "Like an Inca" off Trans,  particularly interesting in that the stuff about wishing he was an Inca or Aztec or such follows (in the "Hitchhiker" variant) hard on his singing about trying cocaine -- context that is missing from Trans. I hope the Minus 5 version comes out on vinyl someday (Scott did say that maybe it would; weirdly, his vocals remind me of Sean of AJJs on this one. They  normally don't!). 

"I try not to do all the popular songs," Scott said of his Neil Young cover albums. "And I kind of remake them myself. I don't try to do them exactly like Neil. But yeah, I do dig deep with Neil, because there's so many great songs! I love him so much!" 

Note to self: make Sean and Scott aware of each other's records.

In terms of Neil Young -- Scott and I had talked about "Pocahontas" a bit, which is also covered on the album. My question for him might not have made a lot of sense: I asked if he thought whether the song was "some kind of put on." He responded about the stuff that obviously is NOT a put on, in the song, without my getting to explain exactly what I meant (I could have worded things more carefully).

"I don't think he's putting on anything," Scott said. "He's just channeling his feelings. He's always been about the Native Americans, he knows they got a raw deal, and he knows they had a lot of value to offer. They had a lot that we still don't know. So I think that that's a sincere song; it's kind of a heartbreaking song!"

But what fascinates me is that Neil explicitly aligns himself with Marlon Brando and Sacheen Littlefeather, which you hear Scott riff on a bit, including the name Littlefeather in his lyric for the Minus 5 version... which is not a stretch, since she is, in Neil's lyric, clearly the actual referent for Pocahontas, at least in the last verses of the song (there was no "Marlon Brando and Pocahontas," but there definitely was a Marlon Brando and Sacheen Littlefeather, which is the list Neil is penciling his name into). 

And Sacheen Littlefeather's is a complicated story. You are all directed to watch the film Reel Injun (try Tubi -- free with a few commercials), where they talk at some length about the AIM standoff at Wounded Knee. People who were there -- Indigenous First Nations activists, surrounded by the FBI, basically holed up in a house with weapons -- actually heard Brando reject the Academy Award for The Godfather, as done by proxy, in the person of Sacheen Littlefeather, to protest the treatment of Native Americans. This  was a HUGE shot in the arm for the beleaguered AIM folks (seriously, watch the doc -- it comes up later, but the whole film is fascinating).  

Where this gets complicated is that (as discussed in the film) there was an immediate dogpile on Littlefeather in the media, after she'd appeared, claiming she was a "pretendian," as they are sometimes now known. She continued to claim otherwise right up until her death, throughout Reel Injun (which also takes on the story of people like Iron Eyes Cody and other people with no Indigenous blood, who claimed and maybe even believed otherwise; cf. Buffy Ste. Marie, Joseph Boyden, etc). After Littlefeather died, two of her sisters came forward to say that she was just part Mexican; but then there was another later development that suggests she might have had a small bit of Yaqui blood (see the "Ancestry Dispute" section of her Wikipedia entry for more). Was she or wasn't she, and how much does it matter? The documentary-makers are quite careful about investing in the issue themselves; the story they tell works whatever the truth of Littlefeather's ancestry was. 

Now, I'm not sure it should even matter, but to my mind, Neil standing with Marlon and Sacheen in the last verse of that song changes flavour a lot depending on whether he was reading Sacheen Littlefeather as really being Native, vs. whether he was deliberately putting himself in the company of a notorious Hollywood eccentric and a pretendian. If the latter, it sabotages his own appearance in the song, makes it absurd, almost comical (which reading is supported by odd live variants where he throws in the name of Watergate lawyer John Ehrlichmann, the Nixon family, Ann Margaret, Muhammad Ali or, as Scott also does, Judy Garland). That's kind of what I meant -- poorly expressed -- with the "put on" question -- what Scott makes of the odd sense of humour of the song, the surrealism, etc. Neil begins by standing in solidarity, to be sure, but by the time Marlon Brando appears, the song has veered towards farce. 

Anyhow, maybe someday I'll get a chance to ask Neil. I unsubbed from the archives but I should have put that question out there: "When you wrote 'Pocahontas,' were you thinking of Sacheen Littlefeather as authetically Indigenous, or not?"

Anyhow, it was such a fascinating and full day that I was spoiled by my circumstances, so that the actual gig, when it came, was less the point than everything swirling around it, was almost an afterthought, terrific as it was... though in terms of songs I *didn't* know well, I definitely  have to get to know "My Collection," off Stroke Manor, a song I didn't really know that Scott said really interesting things about that I cannot confidently paraphrase, now, but they made me think that I could learn things from this song: something about the uses and abuses of record collecting when it comes to propping up imperiled identity, maybe? Like, after you've had a stroke? 

Scott and Samantha Parton, by Erik Iversen, not to be reused without permission

Scott signed the record on his brain. He also had a fun way of illustrating how his brain works now, during the show, asking the audience to shout a question about a song at him, and responding, when they did, "Too late!" (as in, "the information has already left my head"). 

I shoulda showed him my hairy tongue. 

Another fun thing that happened was running into Kev Lee of Infamous Scientists and BUM (Scott had actually brought him up in a shortlist of local confederates who he was hoping to run into). I took a photo of Kev to offer as a shout out to Rob Nesbitt, and let him know about the pop-up Dead Bob gig at Green Auto tonight (Kev was in Infamous Scientists with John Wright, pre-Nomeansno). Maybe we'll see him there? I am pretty sure Scott and Kurt were BUM fans, as well -- but it's foggy, now, what actually was said. Maybe one of them had Mine Would Be the Sun? Someone I spoke to did...

Two other favourite moments involved the music made by my friends David M. and Pete Campbell. I had brought a copy of the Sweaters' The Pop Thing to give to Kurt Bloch, since there is a song on it ("Kurt Got Hurt") that Pete wrote about an accident Kurt had had (and Pete didn't have one to give away). 

When I offered it to Kurt, though, he said, "Oh, I've got that," whereupon Scott piped up: "I'll take it." This, reported to Pete Campbell later, was very pleasing, and I was pleased to have pleased him. Scott and Kurt also got a copy of another Sweaters CD that Pete brought and three of the Supreme Echo Pink Steel 7" inches, but who ends up with what remains to be seen. I ultimately just left fistfuls of 7" inches and CDs for Scott and Kurt and Peter, and even brought NO FUN 7" inches for Linda and Debbi, too. 

The other story involves NO FUN's "It Came from Heaven/ Don't Leave Me Hanging," which I got David to sign copies of to each member of the band. Scott saw it and went, "I already have that!" To which I responded, "Not signed." And he said, "True," and took it. 

Which again, pleased David to hear about quite a bit. Oh, and I got his Dear December CD signed, too. It's one of his favourite albums of original Christmas songs (that he himself didn't record). The vinyl version has an advent calendar cover!

I was also able to confirm with Scott that he did, indeed, buy the Snivel cassette box set back in the day on a trip to Collector's RPM, which is something David heard about years ago. So I gave Scott a copy of that on CD, which he was happy to receive. I forgot to mention that there is likely to be a release of that album in a trendier format sometime soon, but... now he knows there are reissues afoot, at least...

Kurt was also aware of NO FUN, too, and keen for his swag (copies of the Eep Eep Eep Eep EP, also signed by me AND David, were also proferred and accepted). So that makes me happy: two of the guys in the band were aware of people I consider friends, and happy to receive records by them.

I also had fun turning Adam Kates on to the Minus 5's music. He didn't know anything of the band before this week, but he was really impressed, and it just so happened that I got a great photo of him and Scott. 

Most importantly, I played a small role in getting Scott and Tim Chan back in touch, so I'm real happy with that. Tim was there and having a great time, too. I didn't get his photo (or Eric Lowe's either); 64 Funnycars share a Conrad Uno connection with the Fellows, of course. Shit, I shoulda brought my 64 Funnycars record to get signed, too! 

For people who were not there, I did record the last two songs of the night -- "Aw Shit Man" -- sorta-official/ sanctioned rock video here! -- and the Sonics "Strychnine." I hope you get another chance to see this band. Scott and Kurt, in particular, seem like really nice people, true enthusiasts, and it was a big deal to talk with Scott and see him play, finally, having been a fan since I was a teenager. Also glad I hooked onto vinyl of the Young Fresh Fellows' Toxic Youth, which is really growing on me (guess I'll give the CD to David?). 

Now about this Loft... 

Kurt, Scott, Debbi by Erik Iversen