So that was a fine show the other day, but I'm reviewing it for German magazine, so I haven't blogged about it here. It was interesting that Alien Boys threw in in support of DULF, with a shot or so at Ken Sim's priorities and Juan the new drummer in a DULF Saves Lives shirt. It reminded me, weirdly, of Todd Serious supporting a similarly controversial, but otherwise very different, cause, A Better Life dog rescue (both DULF and A Better Life were raided by the RCMP). I'm calling it the most punk rock gesture of the night, in the thing I'm writing (DOA also addressed the opioid crisis a little, I guess, with a reworking of "Full Metal Jackoff," but the lyrics to that may need more of an update?) -- not that DOA's set wasn't terrific; I have said before and will say again that this incarnation of DOA is the all-round best I have seen live.
Everyone was great, really. WAIT//LESS were less of a sleazy female NY Dolls reincarnation in their presentation (which is what they reminded me of at Keithmas and what I expected) as they were a pleasantly aggro riot grrl throwback, which I enjoyed even more. Dead Bob did a set that was great, but far too short to satisfy this fan -- packing originals, a fistful of Nomeansno covers (the new one this time out was "The Fall"), and DOA's "You're Paying for Your Body Now" (written by Ford Pier and Ken Jensen, and sung by Pier, in homage to the latter) into a set barely 30 minutes long. It was all great, but I was sidelined, taking notes, nursing a foot injury from overtaxing it the previous weekend and protecting everyone from my cold (I'm still testing negative so I guess that's all it was, but I was wearing an N95 over another mask). Suffice to say I wasn't as engaged as I might have been. You can't observe a show and participate at the same time -- ask Heisenberg.
Though someone did tell me that I reminded them, with my scribbled notes, of Jack Keating. That was quite touching.
But the high point of the night for me had nothing to do with any of the bands that played, actually. Y'see, as DOA were launching into the Dils' "Class War." I was seated (at side-stage, at a reserved seat that the Commodore had generously provided when I called in to tell of my injury), watching as an aging punk with a walker made his progress down the aisle in front of me. He sat on the bench part of the walker, air-drumming enthusiastically along with Paddy Duddy through a few of the fast-paced crowd pleasers in DOA's set (it was Duddy's first time at the Commodore, I found out later). I could see that he had a homemade "HOC" vest on and so I approached him after the show, where he was hanging out in the Alien Boys - WAIT//LESS merch area. "Excuse me, man, were you in House of Commons?"
He grinned. His last name is really something like Laird, and he was on the Patriot EP -- a killer Rob Wright-produced example of mid-80s Victoria punk with the great, great song "American Patriot" on it. I gushed at him that he had played the first ever punk show I was at (there are a few people who remember that gig, which I wrote about here). Of course, Embo of that band -- Neil Emery -- is on social media (and has posted more than one photo of the DKs, as well as a few of HOC viewed from the balcony of the York Theatre; I've looked at the back of several young men's heads in those photos and wondered if they were me). I asked Jim if I could take his photo and he actually did a stunt on his walker (he called it his wheelchair, but I'm not actually clear on the difference) -- he used the arms of his chair to raise his feet up in the air.
Told him it was an honour to meet him. Bev was off talking to Alex Waterhouse-Hayward at that point (who you see in her famous photo of Wimpy getting mobbed; he also took the Let's Wreck the Party cover shot). It's nice that gigs can do that -- nice to be recognized for who you are (or mistaken for someone more important, as with me and Jack).
Anyhow, saying hi to Jim was the high point of the night for me -- otherwise I was too busy taking notes, adjusting my COVID mask, and nursing my sore foot.
Back to work.
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