It's the first thing you see, after you get past Wendy: "Look, there he is, it's Crazy Steve Goof! Whoa."
As we filed into the Waldorf, Crazy Steve was sitting at the merch area. Would he be there later? This could be my one chance to interact with him! I went straight over: "Steve, I'm Allan, the guy who wrote the Straight piece. Honoured to meet you! This is my buddy Adam, he lent me his copy of the Goofs book so I could do research... we're hoping we could get it signed?"
He barely blinked. He calmly, quietly waved it away: He'd do it later, he told me. He needed time.
I am not sure what I said next, but it was along the lines of, "Uh, what for?" I was not challenging him (even I would know better). I was genuinely puzzled.
Low-key, calm: "I need time to think about what to say."
He did this without it being impolite at all. He didn't say no, he didn't tell me to fuck off, just continued to sit there. It was like waking a sleeping lion, which opens one eye, looks at you, then shuts the eye.
I looked around the Waldorf. I had no idea what to do. Never been shut down that skillfully before! I was kind of impressed but I also didn't know my next line, so I stammered out an inanity about being excited to see the band, welcome to Vancouver, etc., and wandered off into the bar to see what the de-alked beer options were. My buddy Adam stayed with Steve and asked permission if he could sell some copies of his zine, Going All the Way!, which has articles about Toronto punk of the 1980s (we talk about it here). The BFGs aren't actually in it, but Adam did see them, back in 1986, I think he said, at Ildikos, a Toronto punk club of some repute. This MIGHT have been the gig?
Adam tells that it was a scary rite of passage for a young punk kid, at the time, maybe akin to my seeing the Dead Kennedys at the York, in October1984, back when I barely knew what punk rock was (I lost my running shoe in my first mosh pit that night, having to recover it in a sock foot!). Adam and I agreed with Tesco Vee on this point: the best punk shows always had an element, or at least a FEELING, of danger...
Airock, Crazy Steve, Baby Goof by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
But Adam got the nod to sell the zine and set up a table in back, and we got him a chair, as he commented that he was impressed by how friendly and approachable Steve was. I said nothing in reply. But it turns out there were ample chances to talk to Crazy Steve during the night, and other people had similar responses. My sense of urgency was misplaced: He was frequently seen in the pit, in the corridors. I couldn't get a read on him. He seemed friendly enough when people talked to him, but also surprisingly low-key. I wondered if he was drunk?
It's been a long time since I've been drunk -- recurrent tongue cancer has made alcohol a no-no, and I've had maybe six beers and one shot (and one glass of spiked punch at a wedding) in the last five years. It's never been my favourite intoxicant, anyhow. But I can remember being very drunk in public, feeling calm inside, like the eye of a hurricane, with everything swirling around outside. Steve seemed sober, but maybe he was one of these seasoned drinkers who you couldn't tell was inebriated, sitting quietly while the room spun? I'm not sure what I expected, but his calmness, his self-contained-ness, his, ermm, palpable stoicism were all somehow startling, not what I had expected. What had I expected? Dunno. Something crazier, goofier? "Sleeping lion" seemed about right.
There were moments during the opening acts when he came to vibrant life, mind you. One time he approached the stage and screamed along from the pit with Death Sentence, who had replaced Skull on the bill. It almost looked like he was going to get up there with the band; and seemed like he knew their songs better than I did!
beer-soaked Death Sentence setlist by Allan MacInnis
When I'd been told by Bob (who had heard from Betty) that Death Sentence would be playing (and that Betty would be doing a song of theirs), I got excited about the two songs of theirs I actually remember, both off their debut: "In Flames" (which ended up, after an instrumental intro, being their first tune) and "Feel Fucked," which I thought would be an awesome song for Betty to sing. That was actually my first reaction to the news: "Betty is singing a song? Gee, I hope it's 'Feel Fucked!'"
This, in fact, is exactly what came to pass, later in the night: I got to scream from the back along with Betty -- who had styled her hair and clothing to resemble the departed Pete Cleaver, and changed her name, appropriately, to Betty Machete -- about how "I don't want to love you/ I just want to fuck you up the ass!"
A question for the guys in the room: when she sang that, I'm curious: did you visualize Betty fucking YOU up the ass? Because I sure did -- I mean, in an abstract way, you understand, nothing actually sexual about it, and not necessarily even me, just, like, everyone in the audience (maybe all of us serially!). But the "you" went out to the people in the room in a way it had not before. I gotta tell you, it was a value-added moment! I saw the original version of Death Sentence once live with Pete, and I spun that EP plenty when I had it, but best as I can recall, I did not ever imagine HIM fucking me (or the audience) thus, you know? I imagined him fucking some other person or people (women, for instance; I didn't know Pete or his tastes but remember wondering if I should be disturbed by his attitude towards women, maybe, which also made that lyric a better fit for a woman to sing). Actually, I also saw them once with Doug Donut leading the band, and I didn't visualize him fucking me up the ass, either. But Betty made the lyric quite a bit more vivid and real. The "you" of the song became "me"/ "us" if you see what I mean: I/we were being potentially addressed (And I mean, hell, I've even seen her with a penis, and not just during BB Allin sets: she has a few that she whips out when appropriate, it seems, some of them quite intimidating in size [unlike BB's]).
Suffice to say, Betty should always sing this song!
But there's interesting news, Death-Sentence-wise: apparently (co-founder/ drummer) Doug Donut is now out of the band. Not sure the story there, what specifically prompted his ouster -- though the guy has a colourful rep, shall we say, my favourite story of which involves him getting in a fight onstage with a certain fellow punk after (speaking of ass-related matters) sticking a drumstick into or, perchance, up the guy's butt (not quite sure how far -- Bob, given a sneak preview of this article, asked me to clarify if it was "just the crack," but put it this way, however far it got, wherever it was stuck, it was not well-received). Wasn't there for that but the guy who told me about it while Death Sentence was taking the stage was definitely chuckling. Other stories about Doug's, uh, hijinks are less fun, though I've only seen/ met him a few times and never had a problem with him myself (I try to base my estimation of people on what they have done around, in front of, or to me, and not just what people say).
Dustin and Syd by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
In any case, replacing Donut as sole original Death Sentence member now is guitarist Syd Savage, whom I am told had been away from music for a very long time. I guess I saw him onstage with the band back back in the day, too -- sometime between the release of their first EP, which I had, and their second album, which I never owned -- though that's a gig I have a singularly hazy memory of, which almost entirely hinges on an argument I had with a big-haired Gothy punk female as to whether Danny of the Spores or Pete of Death Sentence was the better front person (I remember conceding that, "Okay, sure, Pete has more charisma, but Danny has better lyrics!" To which she responded that she couldn't make out the lyrics, and I probably commenced to quote some. That is exactly all I remember of either band; my memories of that night almost entirely revolve around the Haters, who were on the bill, too, assaulting mic'd metal with power tools, and very distracting/ terrifying/ noisy).
I was delighted to be catching the new incarnation of Death Sentence, but Syd's vocals were a bit hesitant to start -- it was probably the biggest show he's played in 40 years? -- and the backup vocals are gonna need work, since the other members all chimed in on choruses at slightly different times, a bit less, uh, "chorally" than is ideal for an, um, chorus; it wasn't surprising to learn this was only their second time playing live together in this incarnation (the first being last week at LanaLou's). But while things were looser and jammier than the previous two Death Sentence incarnations I've caught, they also were very, very potent and driving. And if the singing got a bit wonky at times, the riffing was terrific, more along straight-up rock lines than punk, per se, but very enjoyable.
Waste Coast by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission. Note Mr. Chi Pig shirt!
That was a bit later in the night, mind you: they were the third band on the bill. Openers Waste Coast did some fun, vaguely surfy punk and something they even introduced as a country tune (it was about wanting to live and die like Hank Williams, so it was definitely topically country, but it didn't sound particularly like country music to me. Hey, Waste Coast, do you know this song? Yours was the second-best song I've ever heard about Hank Williams, next only to that one [I am not counting that Young Fresh Fellows tune]).
While Waste Coast were playing, I snapped a photo of two Jaks standing in front of me. The one on the right is Victoria's Dustin Jak Schwam, who had helped with some of the Death Sentence vocals and drummed for one or two bands during the night; the one on the left would later get onstage with Fully Crazed and take a mic. I had no idea who he was when I asked if he minded my using the photo, and not only didn't he mind, he got me to send it to him. He proved to be Brandon Cruz. I never caught his version of the Dead Kennedys (who I only ever saw with Jello singing) and never saw Dr. Know (they did two songs by them, which Adam recognized, with Ken Fleming -- Flemming? Goony, I mean -- joining them on second guitar; I must surely have seen Ken and Willy Jak together in SNFU as well). If you know what Dr. Know songs got sung, feel free to comment....
Brandon and Dustin, by Allan MacInnis
I had been a bit nervous about the Jaks, actually. Some years ago, I'd written a piece for a certain paper involving the Jaks that had some editorial changes made to it by someone who had seen some bad behaviour from the Jaks and maybe wanted to take them down a peg. Nothing quite like finding yourself in a hole that someone else has dug. (Note: I am no longer attempting anal sex references with any of this but find the piece haunted: suddenly "peg," "hole"... I've disappeared up the ass, with Betty and her strap-ons on the left and Donut with his drumstick on the right). I dunno that I've ever been totally absolved for that, and had left the Jaks entirely out my Straight piece on the Goofs, lest any further issues arise. But now I was worried about THAT: would the Jaks be pissed that I left them out of what was essentially their event, the afterparty to some sort of skating things that had taken place?
Brandon and Ken take the stage, while Mark gets in the pit, during Fully Crazed, pic by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
Turns out the only feedback I got from Jaks was from Dustin, who told me he loved the article on the BFGs. There was no trace of bad blood anywhere that I could see. Whew!
And Fully Crazed are definitely a Jaks band, with Dustin Jak on drums, Willy Jak on guitar, Mark on vocals and a bassist who I assume was a Jak as well (I don't know all my Jaks but their colours were everywhere, everyone with their own handmade patches promoting "Absolute Music" and some very colourful art indeed; Jaks in team attire got a discount at the door). The pit was delightful to observe -- exuberant and playful and kind of nutty; I shot some video but I did not capture the best of it by far. At one point, there was a dude rolling around on the beer-slicked floor, moshing horizontally; there was even a guy who tried skateboarding at the stage when Fully Crazed went on, but this was not the Buddha...
Fully Crazed by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
The band did songs like "Detention" (about going to jail, which I've never done) and "Vic Goof," with the lyric about how "You've never skated/ You've always been hated" (which maybe could apply to me! I've never skated either). They presented as slightly debauched, anarchic, and very fun to watch live. Alas, they had no merch (Willy explained that the band member -- or whoever it was -- who had it was absent for reasons I didn't store in my long-term memory). So I was marked safe from buying a Fully Crazed record, which is probably just as well (I'm on a prog rock kick lately and prog rock they are not!). But I did buy, a couple weeks ago, a record by Willy's other band of the moment, Hung Up -- another band I would see again, fronted by Ratboy Roy from Alcoholic White Trash, who got a nod in the Straight thing. I guess I can relate more to "Ass Worship" than the topics Fully Crazed covers? (There it is again: the ass!).
Ken "Goony" Fleming with Fully Crazed by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
One wonders how many bands Willy is in now. He'll be coming over again later in the month with the Keg Killers, to open for the Forgotten Rebels, though he's only filling in, not a full-fledged member. I've asked if he could bring me a couple copies of his punk rock cookbook from a few years ago. TBH, I don't think I've ever seen Willy in a bad band: Dayglo, SNFU, Hung Up... I think I even saw him with the Frostbacks once, opening for DOA in Victoria for a farewell show (one of the few Victoria punk acts I've actually seen in Victoria). I remember them doing a punk rock version of Maclean and Maclean's "Fuck Ya," which was great... Chatted with him once before the Meatmen gig in Vancouver, too, where there were abundant photos taken of him, Chi, Dave Gregg, and Tesco Vee posing together, not one of which have I ever seen online...
Airock of the BFGs by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
Besides that brief, deflected chat with Steve early in the night, interactions with other Goofs were brief. I said hi to Airock, who gave me a big grin and thanked me for the article. He was (unless I'm wrong) sporting a shirt or hoodie or jacket or such with "In Dirt we trust" written on the back, which is a reference to the Fort Goof alpha dog Dirt, who gets his own section in Dirty, Drunk and Punk:
(For more on the importance of dogs to Goof life, see this recently-uploaded clip of "In Dog We Trust," which was not on Youtube when I first wrote this).
Also talked with bassist Baby Goof, who was working the merch area. Baby Goof is a writer himself, and had helped with Airock's answers to my questions, because Airock, it turns out, is French-Canadian! Baby made the excellent point that it was really Dirty, Drunk and Punk that started off a run of profusely-illustrated books about Toronto hardcore, also including Tomorrow Is Too Late. To my surprise, Baby gave me a Goofs shirt as a thank you, which I promptly put on and wore the rest of the night (thanks, man!). Sadly, there was no vinyl on the Goofs merch table either, not even a CD. Adam joked with him at one point -- having bought one of their "Teamwork" shirts, showing the Goofs collectively decimating an OPP officer -- that "The BFGs are an institution, and if you disagree with that, they'll put you in an institution" -- without having realized that it was not just a merch person that he was talking to, but a member of the band (Baby nodded gravely in agreement, I am told). But everything seemed friendly!
Goose of the BFGs by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
In fact, given the potential for disruption at any punk show, the only weirdness that ensued involved two kids, very clearly NOT Jaks, one of whom had introduced himself to me in a very socially awkward/ special-needs kind of way earlier in the evening; he got into some sort of fight with someone who had seemed to be his friend, and for a brief period, everyone was sort of milling around wondering who was shouting at whom about what; the security guard got called into action, and Wendy materialized on the other side of the room from the door in what seemed a "get me away from there" move (the action was occurring near the entrance). Whatever happened, it caused a delay, and the Goofs didn't go on until nearly 12am. Bob and I decided that we would have go by 12:30, or even sooner, lest we miss the last Skytrain, but waiting just served to build up the tension.
Crazy Steve Goof by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
When Bunchofuckingoofs played -- opening with "Go Get Screwed," which you can see live eleven years ago, with a different lineup of the band, but a similar level of intensity, which is way better appreciated in person than on the internet -- I realized that I had the band wrong altogether. I mean, I expected from the name that they might be a bit loose, sloppy, chaotic, and from the stories about inebriation, thought they might be or seem actually sauced. Not at all: they were totally, fiercely focused, tight and clear and intense. Crazy Steve seemed about as drunk as R. Lee Ermey does in Full Metal Jacket, which is to say, not at fucking all; he seemed stern and wired, intense and kind of terrifying... and totally sober. Aside from that opener, I didn't recognize a single song -- I don't know that I've ever seen one of their albums, let alone owned one, so what I knew, I knew from my writing and from poking around Youtube. But suddenly I understood that they were totally deserving of their reputation as one of Canada's best punk bands. They were not a bunch of fucking goofs at all!
I would have bought the book about them, or an LP, or a CD, if any of them had been on the merch table. None were (Bob had managed to track down one in the library system, however, so you can maybe borrow it and read it after he's done, if he doesn't, like, liberate it from the system first. He wouldn't do that, though, would he? It's bound to happen, especially now that people are aware it's a collectible, but it probably won't be Bob who does it!). I'm glad that Adam eventually got his copy of the book signed, and excited that, it seems, there is a new album in the works. If they come back, I'll see them again. I was unable to do much to capture the show last night -- my phone was long dead -- but I did catch a clip of Fully Crazed, linked above (Maybe someone in the band can tell me the song titles?). With a Victoria Goofs show planned for September 17th, clips are starting to appear online... so far I've just found Aaron's, but look around...
Jaks jacket by Bob Hanham, not to be re-used without permission
It was a great night at the Waldorf -- sound was great, bands were great, no hassles, and it stoked my resolve to see both the Forgotten Rebels and the Dwarves (with Victoria's Knife Manual) there in the next few months. There is definitely a need for a space like the Waldorf in Vancouver! Thanks to Malcolm for doing such a fine job curating these gigs: long may they run.
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