Friday, November 22, 2024

Rodney DeCroo's In the Belly of the Carp

This blog will soon break its hiatus, as I I have promised out a couple of things and must do them. Like, when I met Ty Stranglehold to swap Mamas, I interviewed him about his band Knife Manual, apropos of their Dec. 7th show upcoming at the Waldorf, opening for the Dwarves (one may also wish to note their upcoming Victoria Angry Snowmans gig). So I have to do that; what was it Rob Nesbitt said, "A Promise is a Promise"? (Speaking of whom, there's still a giant Rob Nesbitt piece I want to put into the world, too, mostly about his COVID-scuttled power pop magnum opus, Mine Would be the Sun, though it still doesn't feel like the right time yet; I want him to return to performing!!!). But I'm actually really enjoying taking a break from writing -- and, briefly, from concertgoing; I was even offered a free Mac Sabbath ticket last night and did not take it. 

There is one essential performance coming up that I must mention, however, though it's not exactly a concert: Rodney DeCroo's In the Belly of the Carp, opening later this week at the Shadbolt Centre.


I have, in fact, been absolved by Rodney of doing a feature about In the Belly of the Carp,  but there is something rather curious afoot with DeCroo here -- intriguing, but also puzzling -- that should be noted by someone. Consider the Facebook introduction to the performance:

"When brilliant but erratic songwriter Rodney has to give a concert, spectres from his troubled past emerge to play tug-of-war with his well-being, torpedo his relationships (especially with his long-time manager and closest friend Samantha), and plunge him into a battle for his soul inside a giant fish."

...which fish presumably relates to Fishing for Leviathan, and perhaps Dr. Theodore Fishpants, both written about here, back in 2022 (an unbelievable two years ago; it feels like it was only a few months ago). All of which leaves me with questions ("why fish?"). Plus it feels like it's been awhile since there's been a straight-up Rodney DeCroo concert. I have really enjoyed the concerts of his I've seen -- besides catching a few songs at a Railway Club gig quite some time ago, I've seen DeCroo at least twice at the Cultch, once debuting his last straight-up physical media release, Old Tenement Man -- an essential local album -- and interviewed him a couple of times (see herehere, and here) to boot.  I am, in fact, ready for a straight-up Rodney DeCroo concert again, where I can hear "Jacob's Well" and "You Ain't No One" and "Stupid Boy in an Ugly Town" and my other favourites of his songs (I hope to be there when he breaks "War Torn Man" out of retirement, too).  

This (I don't think) will not be that concert. DeCroo appears to have gone "meta," incorporating his songs within a theatrical structure that includes his music (but what's the ratio of songs-to-theatre? I expect there's more of the latter, but...). Theatre is also something DeCroo excels at (cf. Didn't Hurt), but he appears to be putting his musical performance, this time, in a structure that relates explicitly to his not having performed as a songwriter in awhile; there's some personal context for this which presumably will become text during the piece -- not quite sure, but I don't want to delve, save to say that DeCroo tells me that it's "a play that also features my songs and poems accompanied by a live band and visual fantasias by shadow puppetry wizards Mind of a Snail. It's easily the most ambitious project I've attempted. I feel a bit like Evil Knievel about to jump 50 trailer trucks or something insane like that, but hopefully with a better outcome!" (It "sounds dramatic," he says, but will also be "quite humorous and fun"). 

Apparently there will also be a "water-based fog, mineral-based haze, and a strobe light" (!) and "a trauma-informed Active Listener present at all performances," which is also kind of piquant; those of us who have seen Didn't Hurt know that DeCroo's performances can get quite... what's the right adjective? "Powerful" isn't powerful enough... "Confessional" sounds too Catholic... "Potent" and "tough" sound too macho, "challenging" sounds too cerebral, and terms like "personally revealing" and "self-lacerating" sound too self-indulgent/ un-controlled, neither of which conditions apply; I've not yet seen Rodney put himself in danger during a piece (which is good; I'm not interested in experiencing that). There's probably one right adjective out there ("raw" comes close, I guess), but it's eluding me: suffice it to say that DeCroo can take you inside very painful emotional experiences, which require a certain emotional fortitude of the audience. I've not yet felt the need for a safety net for a work of art, but it's interesting to know that there will be one (and a "moderated talkback" at the end of the night). 

Not entirely sure what to expect, ultimately, but In the Belly of the Carp seems like something not to be missed -- not exactly a concert, but something much more ambitious. There are four shows at the Shadbolt Centre Nov. 28th to Nov. 30 (with a matinee and an evening show on the 30th). Tickets here. See you there? 

Friday, November 08, 2024

Long pause?

I am tapped out. I did a big push to celebrate my 20th anniversary of writing this year, both here and in Vancouver papers, but I have exhausted myself and need a break. I donated a few fun things to the Straight on Bev Davies, Alex Maas, Grace Petrie, and Gustaf and direct you all to their website. I posted some vid of Gustaf (look it up if you like) and shot nothing of Grace, because Rogue Folk was videoing the whole night and they get dibs. One story: I gave Grace an Ivan Coyote book that someone else had given her already, because "apparently there's something about me that makes people think of Ivan Coyote," which was the funniest thing she said when NOT on stage. Hi to Graham Peat, nice to see you there, and we have to trade Election Night at the Rio stories sometime (Erika and I were there last time Trump won!!!). 

Thinking of giving up on non-paying writing in general, with MAYBE the occasional exception of this blog, but if I'm going to continue, I may (gasp) have to monetize it or something. 20 years without ads (and none of those unseemly bi-monthly Wikipedia Begging Campaigns) is a good enough run -- and I would say I have served my community, paid my dues, so, like, fuggit. I will still do paid pieces, and I DO have a couple unpaid stories I have promised out (don't worry, Andy), but generally, there's a Dils song that comes to mind when it comes to writing... we also might think of Grace Petrie's song, "You Pay Peanuts You Get Monkeys, You Pay Nothing You Get Nowt."

There was someone at the show tonight with Queer as Folk vinyl and I pouted at her that "I thought I was the only person here with Grace Petrie vinyl" and she laughed and felt happy, so that was nice. 

Black Angels -- go read it on the Straight, then go back and read the Bev piece, then read the Black Angels again, then the Bev again. That's how I'd do it, anyhow: they are interlocking and shed light on one another, kinda. 

Peace out! 

Sunday, November 03, 2024

Richard Thompson, Bob Mould, and Mr. Chi Pig (and Grace Petrie)

Gay punk rockers came up more than I expected at tonight's Richard Thompson show, but there's nothing to be made of it, really -- it was just unexpected. First off, Thompson explicitly referenced Bob Mould's punk cover of "Turning of the Tide" and said that his band was going to do a punk-informed recreation of Mould's cover of Thompson's original acoustic song, which, he told us, is about young British men running around Hamburg (I'm assuming he meant the Beatles? I didn't know the song so I can't do justice to the lyrics). It was very much like what you see on Youtube from Colorado, a few days ago... except it was live. Seeing Richard Thompson live really is kind of essential; clips (and recordings) don't really do him justice, I've found (I still bought his Austin, Texas DVD off the merch table -- it's really a peak live set, by me).

Then later in the evening, even if this was surely just me thinking this, I was surprised to find my mind going straight to Mr. Chi Pig during "Beeswing," specifically the verse:

And they say her flower is faded now
Hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that's just the price you pay
For the chains you refuse

Fans of the song "Beeswing" should note that Grace Petrie, who performs in Vancouver on November 7th, has a cover of it; perhaps she'll do it? Petrie was by far my favourite "discovery" at the last folk festival (more on her to come; see also here), and she does have a debt to punk, but she's about 20 years younger than I am (and I guess maybe 40 years younger than Thompson), so our reference points are a bit different! (Billy Bragg is a common one, though, and Tom Robinson, and Thompson himself...). 


 (Photo by Dave Bowes)

Anyhow,  not much to say about the show, but I'm grateful to have seen Thompson again (this was my third time). The setlist is the same for all songs I'm seeing on the tour, (though I am not 100% of the last song because I couldn't make out the chorus and I don't know "Jealous Words," but I'm guessing with everything else being the same, so was that). In fact, as sometimes happens, there are songs on the new album, Ship to Shore -- Thompson, ever witty, took pains to emphasize that the last letter of the first word was P -- that I haven't yet connected with. Thompson has always been like that: some songs, some albums grab you powerfully (like "The Storm Won't Come," off the last album, on the merch table but not otherwise represented in the set), and some elude you, maybe waiting for you to take the time to read the lyric sheet or think about it in the right way. In that regard, Thompson is very helpful in his introductions, live; as tonight, for instance, in giving the audience a bit of a stage setting for "Al Bowlly's in Heaven," which really helped enrich what he was doing -- it's a song I had allowed to slide by me before. I'd simply never taken enough time with it, thinking on short exposure that it's about some past pop star (Thompson explained that Al Bowlly was a British equivalent to Bing Crosby); no, it's about an old soldier, crippled by war, who feels abandoned by his country, looking back on his life and feeling somewhat miserable; Bowlly is just a symbol of happier times). 

 That may be the problem with Ship to Shore, too, for me, I mean -- I don't know that I've heard the whole thing in its entirety more than once...Though one song he did from that album gripped both Erika and I, mind you: "The Old Pack Mule." He didn't much explain the lyrics to that -- if there was a specific person he was thinking of (we presume the mule is not actually a mule); it actually seems a compliment to "Al Bowlly's in Heaven," but from a very different point of view, like the old soldier in that song has died and his relatives are feuding over his meager estate ("how shall we carve him up?"). It's clear where Thompson's compassion lies but it's in no way versed by its narrator, you know? It's made vividly present by its sheer absence.  

There were also obvious crowd pleasers I remembered from the last show, like "Tear Stained Letter," with plenty of audience participation. The Mould "cover" -- kinda like the time Ray Davies introduced "You Really Got Me" as a Van Halen song, but really not too far off Thompson's original -- was one of those, catchy and easy to engage with, and the ever-present "52 Vincent Black Lightning," which I'd taken pains to introduce Erika to this morning, one of those songs that I am guessing is in every show he does, and for good reason... There were definitely songs that stood out more than others tonight, as in the case of Thompson's entire catalogue: showers and growers, you know? 

Doesn't matter, though: even if we didn't appreciate every song equally... all of them had guitar solos! And any Richard Thompson guitar solo is an adventure, especially when you're in the same room, watching his fingers fly around. It seems a bit unfair, in fact, given his skill, that he's playing a venue as mid-range as the Vogue -- but every seat seemed to be filled, and mostly the audience was respectful and attentive and cooperative about the edicts against photography and recording, as far as I could see (I saw one cell phone come out to take a picture near the end of the night; it wasn't mine). It's a bit surprising that the median age appeared to be about 60, since kids today usually have pretty good tastes, but... their loss, I guess, is our gain, seeing such an amazing musician in such a relatively intimate/ affordable context. It took me until my 40s for Thompson really to "click." Maybe he's just not for kids?

That's it, that's all I got. More to come this week -- but not hear. Check out Grace Petrie, you Richard Thompson people. I think the average age there is going to be more like 30, there -- and the audience will and should be 70% female, and maybe 60% queer, and maybe even a little bit punk (because she sure is, even if her music isn't) -- but don't worry, even if it's not your demographic, you'll dig her, too, I promise. If you like Richard Thompson (or Billy Bragg)... just be there... trust me...

Saturday, November 02, 2024

Anyone want a bowling ball? Alienated 20th anniversary report


All photos this post EXCEPT THE LAST TWO  by Gord McCaw (thanks, Gord!); not to be reused without permission

The Minimalist Jug Band gets it. He brought, apropos of nothing, a bowling ball to the Alienated 20th anniversary gig, to put on the merch table. Later on, when I was reflecting on this, I theorized that maybe it was some sort of bat-and-ball "physical pun" but it was not: he'd found it and just thought it would be appropriate, since he had so much stuff already -- the washtub, the stick, some merch, and several pairs of pants -- to add to the burden and carry it too. It might have gotten a bit hidden on the merch table -- I used it as a structural element to prop up the 1894 mock-up cover -- and in fact people seemed to avoid the merch area, for the most part -- but no one even blinked or pointed at it; there was no "Why is that watermelon there?" moment, if you see what I mean. I confess that even I didn't think much about it at the time either. Then at the end of the night, when I was cleaning up the merch area, I was like, "Why did Al bring that bowling ball? Does he want it back?"

He was gone by that point, so I packed it home. It was, indeed, real heavy -- it's a full-sized bowling ball, not one of those junior-sized ones. I already had a bag of shirts and unused posters and my usual backpack and a bunch of other stuff to carry, but you can't just leave a bowling ball for Lana and Mark to wrangle. Luckily I had a ride home...  

...So now I have this bowling ball and it's really heavy and he doesn't want it back and I have to figure out what to do with it and it seems like a SYMBOL of something, like... what if Sisyphus was doing shift work? What if there was some guy he traded off with? I figured I'd check to see if Bert Man wanted it ("Do you bowl?") but he doesn't. I feel, in fact, weirdly flattered that Al would pass this ball onto me, but, I mean, that doesn't mean I have shelf space for it, you know? (Suddenly I have this image of myself standing in a doorway in a raincoat: "Psst, hey buddy, wanna buy a bowling ball?")

Anyhow, people said real nice things about me, and Gord McCaw took tons of photos, and I had fun "eeping" with David on a few versions of "If I Was a Bat" (including one brilliant one to the tune of "The Monster Mash" which I had never heard before; I had not even realized when setting up the gig that it was Bat Week!). I spent enough time serving as emcee and otherwise running about doing stuff that I didn't really get to be "in the audience" as I'd have liked, but still was delighted to hear a few of the deeper cuts off 1894, like "Not in Your Town," "No Orchestra Required," "Snog," "To Hell with the Past," and, indeed, a bat-themed rewrite of "Work, Drink, Fuck, Die" that had eeps for a chorus, which I almost missed (I'd been outside saying goodnight to Rowan Lipkovits -- and making sure he got the accordion safely to his car! -- so I had to sprint to the stage to join in). Pete Campbell seemed to be singularly cookin' on the guitar and Dave Dedrick was very deferential about sharing a mic...






Rachel -- the "Strob" in Coach StrobCam -- couldn't make it, but Greg "Coach" Kelly and Pete Campbell, who I introduced as "Coach Cam" but who referred to themselves as "Coach StrobCan't," after something David said at a previous gig Rachel was also not at -- did a few bang-up originals, and a new arrangement of their own version of "If I Was a Bat" (which is closer to my "original tune" than the David M. version but has clearly become its own thing, which was kind of delightful in its own right: they've made it their own, which gives me hope for its longevity; the more bats, the better. More about the history of that song here). I was very happy to hear "Hockey Sucks" again and get it on video, and -- here's a little behind-the-scenes tidbit for people -- earlier that day had found the Johnny Hanson Presents Puck Rock Volume 1 CD at a library sale, which, it turns out, PETE DID NOT HAVE (see track 20, here). So I gave it to him (I already have one). 


I must admit, Greg and Pete did a fine job without Rachel -- Greg's got a great voice! -- but I still sent her a Creature from the Black Lagoon and If I Was a Bat t-shirt, for Pete to give her when she's feelin' better. I believe I gave everyone who performed a bat shirt, but I might have missed Dave Dedrick? I might have to do another run, which I had not planned. Kent Lindsay needs one too... cost about $500 bucks to make them, all told, and I believe the only one I sold went to Enrico Renz, for his wife -- but, you know, I'd rather give away $500 in shirts than have $470 worth of them (and a bowling ball) left over at the end of the night! Plus Erika's parents got theirs, and her brother and a friend, and she and I got them, and... you know, no one got any MONEY for this gig, right? If you're wondering about the economics of it all, we had about fourteen paying customers and about fourteen playing musicians, which would mean maybe $20 per bandmember if there were no other expenses, but I'd also paid LanaLou's (they make most of their money on the bar and restaurant end so this was surprisingly doable) and spent $100 on advertising (and bought $150 of NO FUN stuff I did not already have). In the end, I pocketed what was left at the door and was only down about $550 bucks for the night! 


...but I'm not complaining: it was always planned thus, and if memory serves, we spent more than that on my wife's 50th birthday party the other year, and we didn't have a single musician perform (and a LOT more physical labour on my part, which it's best if I don't go into). There really was a marvelous cohesion to the bands that played. Enrico's solo guitar was maybe the outlier -- everyone else was doing songs -- but then Stephen Nikleva (and then Tania Gosgnach) joined him and we got a surprise treat of a few Red Herring songs, which were pushed further than I'd heard them pushed before: "Love Machine" lost that 80s new wave quality, seemed tougher than ever, plus there was "Taste Tests," the ever-beautiful "Julia," and Erika's request, "Consuela," which has yet to be released (the other songs are on bandcamp). 




Rowan -- who missed the start of the night, sadly, including Al's delightful "Dead Man's Pants," which Rowan's band The Creaking Planks are known to cover -- explained about the need to dig deep for surprising, fresh things to interpret on the accordion, after which he started his set with a Billy Eilish tune ("Bury a Friend"), then a Taylor Swift one. Both were great -- they are songs I don't know, because I follow no actually "popular" popular music, but you can't do songs like these on the accordion and NOT make them your own, you know? 



I had mentioned to everyone, in the run up to the gig, that any bat-themed covers people had in their repertoires would be welcome, so of course Rowan went to Sesame Street for that; and then we ended on the Creaking Planks kids-birthday-party NIN cover ("Closer") where it sounded, at one point, like Rowan accidentally sang, "I want to fuck you like a teddybear." That might have been just my mishearing (they usually sing "hug" for their version -- a hilarious, sanitized, kidspeak tune, with references to mudpies and Nintendos and lines like, "Help me, I think I got a boo boo") but even if I was mishearing, it put quite an image in my mind, so I guess if I got that wrong, I don't want to know. Apparently next year is the 20th anniversary of the Creaking Planks, so if there's ever going to be more live music from the band -- who are dispersed everywhere around the lower mainland, with the biggest concentration in Nanaimo, apparently-- next year will be when it will happen. In fact, I believe I was at their first-ever gig,  20 years ago, which corresponded with the first-ever Vancouver Zombiewalk, and which had zombie-themed songs, yoking Roky Erickson, the Cranberries, Fela Kuti, and... was there some Harry Belafonte in that set? Does Harry Belafonte sing about zombies? Or was I thinking of the Kingston Trio's "Zombie Jamboree?"

Interesting that this blog and the Creaking Planks have been around almost the same length of time... 

Anyhow, I think more video evidence will emerge sometime, but not as shot by me: my storage maxed out during Rowan's set and allowed me to put away my phone for awhile (the actual order of performers was Coach StrobCan't/ Minimalist Jug Band/ Rowan/ Enrico/ NO FUN, fyi). Thank you to everyone who played or came out! But in the end, I spent almost as much time onstage as I did in the audience, and it just wiped me out... I don't even remember what did Thursday night, but last night I was sitting at the Rickshaw and I could just feel my energy plummet, and contra my original plan to run back and forth between the Rickshaw and the Waldorf, found myself thinking, fuck, I've seen the BB Allin show, I've seen Kid Congo... I could be home in bed with my wife... why am I doing this to myself? There's a level below which, if you drop down that far, you just have to listen. I hit and passed that level before Kid Congo even took the stage...

I was still glad to have said hi to a few people (including Byron and Kristy-Lee of Dead Bob, bracing for a post-election US tour, and to Emilor, who I gave my second-to-last bat shirt). But in the end, I just went home. At least I didn't have to carry a bowling ball!

Actually, Al -- who I also shot a bit of video of, note -- gets the other funniest story of the night, too, which involved my song, "Bald Man with a Hat,"  which he covered as his first tune (I think it's the first time I've seen Al do a cover?). He stumbled on the lyrics and got, if you will, contagiously embarrassed onstage, but the thing he didn't realize was that, far from being, at first, touched and flattered by the gesture, and then disappointed when the gesture got flubbed, I was sitting in the audience not even recognizing my own song. At the start, I was, like, "Wait a second, Al is not remotely bald; why is he singing this?" (he did have a hat, at that point, but he has a very full head of hair under it). When he started referencing Doug Bennett, and how Doug used to tease his male audience members who were wearing hats by saying that men in bars with hats were bald underneath -- I was like, "Jeez, don't I have a song like this? This is a weird coincidence." But I wasn't clear until afterwards that it had been a cover of something I had actually written and sung myself -- I mean, who the hell uses the word "shnooks" in a lyric? (And I've never ever considered hair implants). It's not quite as, uh, weighty a thing as the bowling ball, but it still seems vaguely meaningful that Al was feeling bad to mess up lyrics I didn't even recognize were mine long afterwards. Ha!

Anyhow, that's it - the Alienated in Vancouver 20th anniversary gig report. I'm going to have to start "saving my bullets," as Ford Pier puts it -- there's a lot of music I want to see over the next couple of months, and a few articles I'm committed to doing, so I can't afford to waste time/ energy/ money on things that I am not really, truly enthusiastic for.

I am really, truly enthusiastic for Richard Thompson, tonight; Gustaf, next Tuesday; Grace Petrie, next Thursday; the Black Angels on Friday (one of two things I've given to the Straight on that deals with Bev Davies and her relationship with the band; they've also received an Alex Maas piece from me); BEAT on November 25th; and Dead Bob in mid-December. I'm told I should also check out Zeal and Ardor, playing the Rickshaw Dec. 10th, too... and then it sounds like there might be a NO FUN Christmas show, too!


That may be enough for the next couple of months. Right now, I'm going back to bed! Happy bloggerversary... Oh, yeah, ARGH!! was there... sounds like he might want that bowling ball for a Halloween costume... Here's Gord and ARGH!! at the ARGH!! table... my photo, not Gord's... I use lots of ellipses when writing about ARGH!!... he didn't sell much more merch than I did, but I bought a DOA colouring book... comes with crayons...


(Gord McCaw and ARGH!! as HST, by Allan MacInnis)


"Yorick," be Erika Lax

Hahaha... now all my friends are looking up Beast bowling balls and telling me it sells for big bucks. I wonder if Al new this? Now suddenly the thrift-store-scrounger takes over: maybe I can get some money for it? (Which I guess I should give to Al, huh?)

Friday, November 01, 2024

Night Court has a new album! (and is opening for Kid Congo)



Holy cow, Night Court is prolific. How does a band put out this much material? Since I got on board with the release of Humans, a little over a year ago, they've put out a 7" EP, a split single, toured and played locally, all the while making time for other projects (Autogramm, Pet Blessings). And it's all been great, very fun. I've had the chance to preview $Hit Machine, and I'm thinking this is going to be my favourite Night Court album ever: It's tight, tuneful, catchy, and the songs are mostly hypercaffeinated super-short, fat-free, protein-rich punches of joy. There are 17 in total -- just one song less than the Minutemen's The Punch Line. Exuberance and hooks abound. Hell, there is even a new video (for "Captain Caveperson") and ANOTHER new video ("D-List" -- wtf., "We are the veal?" I must watch that again). 

And BEST OF ALL, they're playing tonight at the Rickshaw, as the first opening band for Kid Congo Powers, who at least some of us were going to see anyways!!! (See my archival interview with Kid Congo here -- including vintage Bev Davies photos of Kid Congo with the Cramps. Was I supposed to correct something in that? Fuck, maybe. Oh, and see my newest interview with Bev Davies here -- my second in less than a year; see the previous one -- the Montecristo one -- here. Is it a wonder that I appreciate how prolific Night Court is?). 


I did a quick interview with Night Court, since I was curious if there any particular examples of the short song format that really, really mattered to their development(s) as songwriters -- the first song(s) they fell in love with as a listener that clock in under two minutes? (For my part, I pointed out to Night Court that the first really short song I fell in love with were the Minutemen's "If Reagan Played Disco" (1:19): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6bDSvSwtZM and maybe the Dead Kennedys' "Dog Bite" (1:14): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ua3XmqAO40k).


Photo: Tyler McLeod


Night Court (presumably Jiffy Marx, subject of a What's In Your Fridge recently) responded thus: FAVOURITE SHORT FORM SONGS! See you TONIGHT!!! Commence Night Court's answer -- fave short form songs: 

Guided by Voices "Game of Pricks" https://youtu.be/MjZ6HL-8WK0
Ramones "Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue" https://youtu.be/rf6Yv4lMhhs?si=A3MR5Nc8U7BE_pOd
Mike Krol "Fifteen Minutes" https://youtu.be/yhfMBWWZUMc?si=KhD32DTv4FteNOtX (keep in mind the song doesn't start until 20 seconds in.. great video too)

So none of these bands write exclusively short (under 2 minutes if that's what we're considering short) songs including the ones you named and many others but we did notice lots of good songs are short so that's just what came out.

When we started writing stuff which is the stuff that became Nervous Birds One + Too, that was our specific mission operative- to trim any fat and make the songs as brief as we could make them while not losing their charm or integrity. Ambitious or dumb who can say? But it's a format that has worked so far so we've sorta inadvertently stuck with it.



(Allan again: I make an observation that "Captain Caveperson" reminds me more of the Nervous Birds material than some of the subsequent recordings -- it really, really is a polished tiny gem. Is there a reason for that? (FYI I think of HUMANS! as being a bit more rough-hewn, experimental, lo-fi, while the Nervous Birds albums seem very, very focused; I don't know if that even makes sense, or if you'd agree).
 
That's interesting (as are all your questions here so thanks!) although i wouldn't necessarily say that was our intent. The Nervous Birds stuff was experimental in that we didn't really know what we were doing and didn't even know at the time that we'd do anything with those recordings, it was only after they kind of turned out cool that we pursued making this experiment a band; as you may recall Emilor didn't even join the band until after most of that stuff was recorded due to the Covid lockdown. HUMANS! was the first thing we recorded as a band and in our "studio" that we built. Some, although not all, of the songs we had played live prior to recording which was also a first, so i would say those songs were maybe a bit more sussed out. We probably did experiment a bit more when it came time to record just to see what we'd get. For this one we've actually gone back to that i think? We have been playing some of the new songs this year but not until after we'd recorded them from what i can remember (but to be fair my memory is terrible lol)

I think I heard "Captain Caveperson" at the Green Auto gig I saw a couple months ago, but my memory is terrible too. But I'm going to be there tonight! (Then race to the Waldorf as soon as they are done to catch BB Allin and the Stabbers!). 

NOTE: The Night Court t-shirt GLOWS IN THE DARK!!!!


More info about tonight's show here

Lickin' Betty's shit! (Is this a bad idea for a title? See below)

Dear Betty Bathory:

I hate being one of those guys who pester people about set times, but people who do that are usually attempting to miss opening acts, while I am doing so in the hopes of catching two of them in different places: so when the hell does tonight's GG Allin tribute show* take the stage at the Waldorf? 

Because correct me if I'm wrong, other than maybe one show at the Rickshaw opening for someone else, the show tonight is only the second time BB has played Vancouver since I wrote about "her"! (What are BB's pronouns, anyhow? Do I need to worry about this?). It's also only going to be the second time I'll be seeing, uh, "him" ("You?"). 

People I think are scared of your BB show: with your proclivities for smearing your (homemade) shit on people, pissing on the audience with your tiny cock, shooting IV drugs, and so forth. I think I heard someone grumbling about the cleanup... 

Me, I won't miss a second chance, but there's a problem, because I've been waiting to see Night Court at the Rickshaw since they hadda pull out of that Avengers/ Pointed Sticks gig a couple years ago (my first interview with them, note), and they have been added to the Kid Congo Powers double bill (see adjacent blogpost). So my plan, you see, is to start at the Rickshaw for Night Court, bus to the Waldorf for BB, stay for some of the Ramores, because I've only seen them the one time, too, then bus back to the Rickshaw for at least some of Kid Congo!

(Who I had already had a ticket for when I realized that the BB/ Ramores show was on the same night). 

I mean, it seems workable. I might even get to see some of Coverage. Haven't done two gigs in one night in a good while (one time, Bob and I saw the Judges, the Alien Boys, and Bison at three different venues in one evening!). 

Hope to see you tonight, but if I'm late, I'm probably on the bus from the Rickshaw or something.

A. 

PS there is an earnest Youtube folkie female who appears to actually be named BB Allin. I find this very amusing. 

PPS: Note: "homemade shit" is a Fugs reference. Do you know your Fugs? I will buy you the next copy of this record I see, if not. For other people, note that Betty's shit smells vaguely like patchouli and chocolate, and you may find yourself tempted to lick it, if you get any on you. Up to you! 

*People who do not know GG are directed to Todd Phillips documentary Hated; yes, the same Todd Phillips who makes the Joker films. His first movie was about GG!


NOTE: Betty says she goes on at 10 so this is PERFECT - just a bit of bus fare! 

Saturday, October 26, 2024

Why bats? The story of "If I Was a Bat": My Cancer, My Wedding, and NO FUN


Like the title of the under-sung Polish vampire film says, I Like Bats


I've been saddened by the dwindling in their population, which has been an occasional theme here on Alienated, as when, in 2012, I went on a long walk into the Maple Ridge countryside, to areas once abundant in bats, and found none, despite bats once having been so commonplace there that a childhood pastime with the kids of our housing complex was to go stand in a parking lot and throw rocks in the air, trying to trick bats into diving for them (bats can't tell a thrown pebble from a large flying insect and would swoop for them; this was a viable entertainment option in Maple Ridge in the 1970s).

I even dreamed, once, as a child, of being a bat, taking to the wing in bat form. I can still remember the feeling; flying dreams were frequent but the one where I was a bat is a favourite. 

When I lived in Japan, from 1999-2002, I would see plentiful bats, often flying over the rice paddies as I cycled home from work (I am a non-cyclist but had a three-wheeled granny bike for transportation purposes). Bats would swoop at me. I wrote a lyric to a song which I showed a few friends, and even had a tune in mind for: "If I Was a Bat." (It seemed more like a country song, using "was" than the proper subjunctive). I showed this to a few friends at the time: 

If I was a Bat

By Allan MacInnis

If I was a bat, lord, if I was a bat
I'd eat lots of mosquitoes
Til I got really fat
I'd come out in the evening and fly around so free
If I was a bat, would you still love me?

If I was a bat,
I guess I would be blind
to all your imperfections
or at least I wouldn't mind
I'd hear your voice ring clearer
for all I could not see
If I was a bat, girl, would you still love me?

Eep eep eep eep

Eep eep eep

If I was a bat
I'd fly by every night
I'd hang outside your window
Til it started to get light
Then I'd creep into your attic
And sleep so safe and sound
If I was a bat, would you let me hang around? 

If I was

If I was

If I was a bat

If I was a bat

How would you feel ‘bout that


That's a bat drawing by Erika's Mom, Linda, made in 2017 as part of a wedding gift to my wife and I. That's when the song as we now know it came into the world. 

Unless my timeline has gotten scrambled, I had proposed to Erika before discovering that I had tongue cancer -- which manifested as a sort of chancre on my tongue that did not go away, bled, and was quite painful at times. When biopsy results came back positive, I was in a panic. The doctor who I was referred to,  who has cut out parts of my tongue on four occasions now, is a bit of an old school look-and-see type; rather than subjecting me to tons of testing to determine the size of the tumour -- which would waste time and allow the cancer to grow and spread -- he scheduled surgery as quickly as possible, with the intent of just cutting into me and finding the cancer thus (removing a margin around the affected area when they could then test: if the margin was free from cancer, he'd know he got it all). 

All of which made sense to me, but a result was considerable anxiety: would I awaken with no tongue? Would I be able to speak? Would I be able to kiss my wife? I had followed Roger Ebert's blogging when he was losing more and more of his vocal tract to cancer, and kept track of Christopher Hitchens decline due to the same sort of cancer, squamous cell (which he died from in 2011). My terror was palpable. And somehow, my worry that I would be transformed into something I could not recognize, and my fear of the impact that would have on my relationship, brought the song back to mind. Would my wife still love me if all I could say was "eep"? 

To document my voice at the time, I sang my version of the song in a Youtube video. Those of you who know me only as having a speech impediment may find it interesting to hear my "old voice." As I explain in that video (I think), Erika and I re-arranged our wedding plans, so we could get married before my surgery, that the latter not impact the former; our wedding was a rush job, held at a golf course banquet hall in Duncan, BC, in March of that year.



For that ceremony, I asked my friend and best man, David M., to adapt the song -- giving him no direction at all about the music, since I was curious what tune he would come up with, and wanted to give him free reign, almost believing that the tune in my head would invariably emerge from the lyrics -- and to perform it at my wedding. He wrote about that experience a bit here.


This was a very  meaningful thing for me: my history with M's band, NO FUN, is long and not bat-centric enough to bear retelling here, but I had also liked them since childhood, having both the 1894 cassette and the Snivel box when they came out in the mid-1980s -- in addition to the Vancouver Complication, on which they feature, and the "Don't Leave Me Hanging/ It Came from Heaven" 7 inch -- so it meant something to me to have someone whose music I had long enjoyed play a song I wrote, even if his version was surprisingly different! Various friends of mine were present to hear the first performance of the song. But it took on a life of its own, and has remained in David M.'s setlists since, with me eventually invited up onstage with M. to perform the tune. I have "flown the bat" and joined in on background Eeps on a few occasions now: 

Further enriching the story, David's friend and bandmate Pete Campbell (of the Sweaters and Wardells and Pink Steel, who I also have a long history with) did something delightful at the Princeton, surprising me by having his current band, Coach StrobCam, work up an arrangement of the song that followed my original tune (I had no idea he was going to do this, though I believe the recording there may not be the first performance thus). M. also wrote other variants -- "The Bat Variations," if you will -- some of which you will be able to hear next Wednesday at the gig I have arranged to mark the 20th anniversary of this blog, also featuring Coach StrobCam and several other friends of mine, oft mentioned on this website. 

But there is much more to the story, with a US label, Atomic Werewolf, steadily releasing NO FUN's back catalogue into the world, "If I Was a Bat" now exists on 7" vinyl and CD, on the Eep Eep Eep Eep EP. This marks the first time that a lyric of mine has appeared on physical media. Copies of this will be on sale at the gig, thanks to Atomic Werewolf's Kent Lindsay (interviewed here). 


Note that M. is wearing a shirt designed by another friend of mine for that -- the Prehistoric BC shirt designed by a fellow named Kevin Wnuk. I had forgotten I'd gotten/ given him one! There is also a NO FUN "Bat M-and Signal" t-shirt that riffs on the bat theme: 


There is also a new development in this saga: with the help of (Daddy Issues bassist) Richard Katynski's Future Ink Traditions, a new shirt has been prepared, adapting some of the art done by Linda Lax into shirt form. Mind you, her delicate watercolour work was not going to translate well to silkscreen: 


So Erika helped adapt the art into something that would work. To my count, 23 of these shirts have been made (no reference to Robert Anton Wilson's favourite number was intended, note: I ordered 20 shirts, but then Richard couldn't get 3 women's t-shirts in Erika's size; I provided him a separate shirt for her; then -- as a precaution -- he ordered five extra shirts to his order, in case I wanted more: 20 - 3 + 1 + 5 = 23.)

As far as I know, only 23 of these shirts will ever exist. Some are spoken for already. If you like the idea of a limited-edition bat-themed t-shirt, you should come to the gig on Wednesday! Here are some shirts being made: 


 And of course there will also be music (and other merch, including, possibly, copies of the first-ever vinyl pressing of NO FUN's 1894. The cover artist, ARGH!!, will be present, likely with merch of his own. This version of 1894 has been re-imagined slightly for vinyl release, but looks terrific, and is also not going to be around in vinyl for very long, so fans of NO FUN are encouraged to take action ASAP. 


And performers besides NO FUN and Coach StrobCam will include Enrico Renz (possibly with some help from other members of Red Herring?); the Creaking Planks' / Accordion Noir's Rowan Lipkovits; and the Minimalist Jug Band. Some of these sets will be fairly short; the intention is to start the music at 8pm, so we can finish before the weeknight curfew. The intent is for this to be a pretty joyful, playful evening; I have encouraged bat-adjacent performances, and will join M. onstage for an introductory performance of "our song," to set the stage for any (seasonally-appropriate) further bat shenanigans during the night. 

Facebook event page here, but note that there are no advance ticket sales, just tickets at the door ($20, plus the shirts will be $30; bear in mind that my cost alone of postering, merch, and room rental is getting close to $700, at this point, and that is not taking into account the manufacturing of merch not actually prepared by me: which is to say, this is not a money-making proposition, but a labour of love for all involved... and we'd love to see you there). 

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

A bunch of gig posters for cool shows, this weekend and the next!

A bunch of shows coming up that I'm really excited by -- a weirdly stacked week -- but only some of them have gig posters (there is an I, Braineater/ Braineaters gig Oct. 31 at LanaLou's but no poster for that!). This isn't even getting into the NEXT week, which will have gigs by Gustaf (opening for DEHD at the Rickshaw), Grace Petrie, and the Black Angels... no time to write much about any of these, but here's some posters (the first one was designed by Erika!). Note: THESE ARE NOT IN SEQUENTIAL ORDER and begin THIS FRIDAY (in two days). 





Friday, October 18, 2024

Of the Minutemen, Saccharine Trust, Universal Congress Of, the Unknown Instructors, and the upcoming Corsano/ Baiza/ Watt gigs: "Fight Using Your Balls"

Note: I have updated this article near the bottom with some post-show notes but I have NOT completed the Baiza transcription. More pressing, time-sensitive stuff presents itself, so give me a few weeks. If you've enjoyed this, check back in November or something? 

The Minutemen in Vancouver: D. Boon, George Hurley, and Mike Watt, by bev davies, July 6, 1984, Waterfront Cabaret, not to be reused without permission. 

1. Bev Davies shoots Saccharine Trust and the Minutemen in Vancouver

I began writing this thinking that Bev Davies had never photographed Saccharine Trust. We had talked about it, and I told her when they had opened for Black Flag in Vancouver (July 3rd, 1982). She didn't think she'd been there. I wrote a couple other contemporaries of hers -- Lynn, Don -- but nothing turned up. Who knows, I thought, Dave Jacklin might have some -- more on him a bit later -- but I didn't want to cold-call him, schmoozing for images ("Hi, Dave -- we don't really know each other BUT..."). I found a few people -- including a Jak -- who were involved in or went to Saccharine Trust's Victoria gig, a couple days prior, but with my recent feature about Bev in Montecristo talking about the magic of asking her if she has a photo of so-and-so in her archive, to discover that she does, I was hoping for a vivid illustration here. Sure, she had images of the Minutemen, also very cool... but we've seen some of those before! Saccharine Trust are a far harder band to find good images of, there was really only one chance (as far as I know) for her to have shot them, and... how cool would it be? 

Guess what?  Bev double checked her dates, dug back in her rolls of film, and here we go: NEVER BEFORE SEEN photos of Saccharine Trust in Vancouver, with Joaquin ("Jack") Brewer on vocals, Joe Baiza on guitar, Earl Liberty on bass -- you've seen him in the Circle Jerks lounge scene in Repo Man -- plus the drummer was probably Rob Holzman. Of course, Joe Baiza is playing Vancouver soon with Mike Watt of the Minutemen and improvising jazz drummer Chris Corsano. We'll get to that show presently, but trust me, interested parties will want to read all of what follows. (There's a lot).  


Saccharine Trust, July 3rd, 1982 at the West End Community Centre, by bev davies; not to be reused without permission

So first: who is this band? This is what Saccharine Trust sounded like in the early 1980s, if you're curious, back when they were one of the very first artists on the SST roster. That clip is from the year of what is still, I think, their best-known release, the 1981 SST EP Paganicons (copies of which can still sometimes turn up new, when boxes are discovered in a warehouse somewhere; I got a brand-new first pressing a couple months ago at the Full Bug in Duncan, whose proprietor, Matt, reports a sudden influx of vinyl rarities by bands whose name all began with S... I think I got some Screaming Trees out of that box, too, and apparently there were some Saint Vitus albums that surfaced...). 

Truth is, I was always more partial to their second album, Surviving You, Always, from 1984, the cover of which is a photograph of a woman named Evelyn McHale in death, after having jumped from the Empire State building; a somewhat famous photograph, discussed here and a bit more below... Surviving You, Always is an ambitious, unusual, slightly deranged and utterly unique art-punk album, one of those rare records that still sounds wholly original and idiosyncratic forty years later; not even Saccharine Trust themselves ever sounded quite like this again (actually, did they ever release two albums that sounded the same?). Who was it that said it was like having "Jim and Jimi in the same band" -- Meltzer? Christgau? It's apt: you get tripped-out 60s-style visionary poetry rants from Brewer and guitar-centric sonic frenzies from Baiza equally rooted in punk and improvised music. "YHWH on Acid" -- the album's "deepest cut" -- sounds like Albert Ayler could step up to the plate at any minute and start skronkin' on ya. Or try, say, "Our Discovery" as a starting point -- it's got passion and drama but not quite the same intensity of spiel -- or if you want something punkier and tighter, "Craving the Centre" (beware: there is some mischief afoot by which that song is often mis-identified online, but that link is right. Some of Baiza's hookiest punk playing there!). Baiza sounds right at home on SST, like a graduate of the Greg Ginn school of guitar, in terms of freedom and fury, but I enjoy him much more than Ginn; and I mean, ferchrissake, his Allmusic bio is by Eugene Chadbourne, who calls him "one of the great guitarists to come out of the so-called punk rock scene of southern California." 


From a Saccharine Trust SST press kit, from the collection of Phil Saintsbury; thanks, Phil!

The band would get jazzier and even a bit funkier over the next couple of albums -- try "Longing for Ether;" you'd never guess it's the same band, two years later, except maybe for Baiza's giddy, dense note-clusters. And then Baiza has other, still jazzier projects, like the Universal Congress Of or the Mecolodiacs... 

That I'm aware of, Saccharine Trust only ever played Vancouver that one time, July 3rd, 1982, at the West End Community Centre, opening for Black Flag; that's the only Vancouver date listed on this tour history. Some variation of I, Braineater -- the newest incarnation of whom will be playing a Halloween show, note, more on which maybe later -- also shared the bill, and a band called The Wrecks, who I do not know. I found this gig poster on the above-linked site, too -- the same guy with the tour history (his name is Hector Kirkwood and he's collecting posters and memorabilia for the band, if you have any! Best I can figure, he's the only person keeping record of Saccharine Trust on the internet... when he sees Bev's photos he'll shit!). 

Saccharine Trust also played Victoria, two days before, at the O.A.P. Hall, again with Black Flag but with the Subhumans headlining (which is fun to see: yay Subhumans!). The Neos were also on the bill. I lifted this poster from Hector's site, too: 

And of course, Vancouver and Victoria bands played with Saccharine Trips on trips south -- I was letting Murray Acton know the other week that Joe Baiza of Saccharine Trust was coming to town, since Murray likes adventurous guitar stuff, when he told me about opening for them at a show, though I can't tell you offhand if Murray said it was with the Dayglo Abortions or the Sick Fucks/ Sic Phux or where it was. It might not be on Hector's list, as well.   



("Hector's gonna shit again!")

I don't think Baiza has played here otherwise? I might be wrong there. But the Minutemen played here, also in a July, two years later, at the Waterfront, and Bev was at that show, too. A different photo of hers illustrates a Nardwuar interview with Mike Watt, here. Bev also shared this very purposive-looking Watt: 


But here's the funny thing. I had originally planned to tell you about how a photo Bev took of that concert was one of the very first encounters I had with the Minutemen. (This introduction circles around not one but two mistakes of mine). At age 16, out in Maple Ridge, I had read about them once in an issue of The Rocket, where there was a review praising both their classic 2LP release, Double Nickels on the Dime -- released the very month of this show! I believe I had seen them mentioned once before, in a 1982 issue of Creem with Joan Jett on the cover, where someone had interviewed Morrissey griping about the tedium of touring, which attitude the Creemperson thought "sucks the hairy balls" (I believe that was the phrase) compared to the hard work on the road undertaken by bands like the Minutemen, blazing trails and igniting/ creating a fresh new scene in the early days of punk... I paraphrase as best I can, because really, the only phrase that remains verbatim in my brain is, "sucks the hairy balls." I didn't know who the Minutemen were at that point but they CLEARLY were cooler than the Smiths...

But -- SPEAKING OF BALLS -- the decisive factor in getting me into the band was a photo that ran in the August 1984 issue of Discorder, just after that gig took place. The thing that captured me here was the words written on D. Boon's t-shirt: Fight Using Your Balls.

Whatever else I may have heard about them, more than any single other early encounter, I am pretty sure it was trying to visualize the art of ball-fighting that got me into the Minutemen. I didn't have/ hadn't heard Double Nickels yet, so before I was poring over the lyrics to "Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing"  (which, while we are lingering in the genital region, we may note contains my #1 favourite usage of the word "dork" in all of popular culture), I was trying to figure out what the band exactly was hoping we would do with this commandment, or what it really meant: even on the hottest summer day, after a warm bath, my scrotum is not long enough for me to, like, swing it and clobber anyone, and even if it were, the resulting impact would make me the immediate loser of the fight, leaving me curled up whimpering in the corner. There is the sense, of course, of balls as "cojones," "huevos" -- the base of manly power -- so the phrase still has a macho swagger to it,  but however tough it may sound, the reality of fighting using your balls is utterly self-defeating. It's like a Zen koan, a peace-slogan in disguise, affirming and sabotaging your manhood in a single imperative. "Use my balls? Fuck that!"    

More than any other factor, it was this photo that set me on the path to Double Nickels, combined with that glowing Rocket review.  And for about 40 years, I've thought it was taken by Bev:


Discorder cut-and-paste, original photo by David Jacklin

Before we get to who actually took the photo, a note about that image and caption: if I've got my nautical terminology right, Mike Watt just explained to me on Facebook that that's his writing on the left (relative to the viewer), while "Peoples' Victory in El Salvador," on the right, is Boon's. Quote Watt:

allan, that writing on his shirt on the starboard side is my writing, his writing on the port... we bof had something to say! by the way, I've tried golf only once and was really terrible (everything was grounders) and they spelled d boon's name wrong but I remember digging this gig much cuz the people of vancouver were most kind to us!

The funny thing about all this, though -- I am only just learning now, having tracked it down, flipping through the Discorder online archives, is that it's not a Bev Davies photo. It's taken by David Jacklin. Bev did take photos of the band at that gig, and I'm very happy to share a few with you, but the photo that set me to bugging her, the one that made such an impact on me, the one that I was hoping she would find so I could run a proper version of it here (not just a cut-and-paste from Discorder) was taken by Dave! Oops. 

All these years, I was wrong. 

But I was sure I'd seen a photo Bev took of D. Boon with the invitation to testicular violence clearly readable. I'd previously asked her for photos of Watt, but now it seemed to me, maybe Watt and Baiza and readers might like to see her image of the late, lamented original guitarist and singer of the Minutemen, too? 

I wonder what D. is thinking about here?

Dennes Dale ("D.") Boon, RIP, by bev davies, July 6, 1984 at the Waterfront, Vancouver

By the by, if you've missed it, the documentary about the Minutemen is on Youtube, and it's really fun. 

2. Mike Watt, George Hurley, Joe Baiza, and the Unknown Instructors

Flash forward to 2007. I'd only started writing about music a couple of years prior -- in particular, the Nerve Magazine. The Unknown Instructors had released their second album; they were an improvisatory rock group that featured Joe Baiza of Saccharine Trust on guitar and Mike Watt and George Hurley of the Minutemen on drums. That team had been yoked together by a poet named Dan McGuire, who recited poetry while Baiza, Watt, and Hurley (or the odd other guest) played (except for on their fourth album, from 2019, which I only just found out about, which has J. Mascis on guitar and Baiza contributing vocals, again with McGuire as leader; apparently the music on it is more composed, less of a jam-session). I interviewed Watt, Baiza and McGuire around that time; Watt was also just starting his touring with the Stooges, which also came into play. My favourite song on their second album -- "The End of the World" -- does not appear to be on Youtube, but it is on Spotify, if you use that service. Baiza's guitar is amazing on that cut...  


So (again, with Watt and Baiza coming to Vancouver soon), here is my archival interview from this time -- the full version of a 2007 article that ended up in The Nerve Magazine. 

Life Lessons from Unknown Instructors

A chat with Mike Watt, Joe Baiza, and Dan McGuire

By Allan MacInnis

“I’m in the big life classroom and what I need is more homework” – Mike Watt, from his Stooges tour diaries.

Unknown Instructors’ guitarist Joe Baiza and bassist Mike Watt have a long history together. Even before the Minutemen formed, “I’d see him around at the punk gigs, you know?” Watt relates in a booming, jocular voice (he’d answered the phone “Watt!”). “The scene was so small, and there’s always the same dude showin’ up, but you don’t really know him. And he’s from the next town to us, called Wilmington, and he moves in below me and D. Boon – well, D. Boon’s apartment, where me and D. Boon started the Minutemen. We started writing the songs without amps, and we didn’t have a drummer, so we would stomp on the deck the whole time. He thought it was these two insane guys living upstairs! And it was me and D. Boon!” Watt laughs. “There wasn’t a lot of Latin cats in the early scene, and he was very distinctive in his look and shit. ‘That’s the guy we seen at the gigs! That’s Joe Baiza!’ Yeah, punk was trippy at first. What a coincidence that that would happen!”

Joe Baiza reports that Watt was a driving force behind Saccharine Trust’s first show, back in 1980. “We hadn’t played any gigs – we were just rehearsing, rehearsing, practicing – all nervous, you know? And Mike calls and says, ‘Hey, you guys want to play a party?’” (Baiza does a boisterous and loud Watt impersonation.) “I go, ‘What, oh, no, no, we’re not – a party?’” (Baiza exaggerates his own timidity by dropping his voice a notch, then returns to Watt-boom:) “‘With the Minutemen – a backyard party with us!’ I said, ‘No, no, no, no – we’re not ready. We’re not ready to play yet, I don’t think so, Mike.’ ‘You’re not ready?!’ – and then he started layin’ into me. ‘You’ll never be ready! You guys are just scared! You’ll never be able to play!’ – He started giving me all kinds of crap, you know?” Baiza raises his voice to Watt-level, indicating rising to the challenge: “‘Okay, then, we will play it! I’ll show you, Mike! I’ll play the party then!’ ‘All right, I’ll put you down – next Saturday!’ or something, ‘All right, see you later,’ and he hangs up. I go, ‘Fuck, we’re gonna do a gig...’ It was good, he kinda pushed us into doing things.” 

Though he doesn’t complain, Baiza’s had a fairly bad run of luck. He had a hand busted when racists attacked him in Germany in 1997; more recently, he broke his thumb on the job, and worse, has just discovered he has carpal tunnel syndrome, which causes his hand to go numb when he plays. Unknown Instructors vocalist and bandleader Dan McGuire reports hearing Baiza and Saccharine vocalist Jack Brewer joking that they’re cursed. There’s some logic to that: SST have discontinued most of the band’s back catalogue, and Greg Ginn won’t re-issue their excellent second album, Surviving You, Always (“he says it costs too much to manufacture it,” Baiza deadpans – this in the age of the ultra-cheap CD). The band’s reunion recording, The Great One is Dead, recorded in 1999 for the obscure German label Hazelwood, is in limbo and almost impossible to find [note: it is now online  and even got a North American vinyl release: SEE THE END OF THIS SECTION], as are most of Baiza’s other recordings with the Mecolodiacs and the Universal Congress Of. Oh, and Saccharine’s vibe player, Richie Hass, is being treated for cancer – though he’ll be playing live with them this summer. [Richie died the next year, in 2008]

I asked Watt – who produced various Saccharine projects and played bass on their improvised SST release, Worldbroken, why he thought he and the Minutemen became so well known, while equally inventive SST bands like Saccharine Trust are not. “I think a lot of it had to do with circumstance,” he tells me. “My best friend got killed, you know, and Saccharine didn’t have that. That’s a horrible way to get known, y’know? So I know people are missin’ D. Boon, and I know when they hear me play they hear some of D. Boon a little bit, because his playin’ went so much on me. I don’t think I’m more deserving of it than Saccharine, hell no! Those cats can fuckin’ blow, man!”

Watt agrees that the new Unknown Instructors album is a lot stronger than their previous release, The Way Things Work. “The first one is a little more apprehensive,” Watt admits. “We’re totally afraid! You understand, me and Georgie” – Minutemen and fIREHOSE drummer George Hurley, who signed on with Watt – “we’re from workin’ people, we don’t really come from musical traditions. It’s scary, but in order to learn, you’ve got to put yourself in challenging situations. So even though you’re going to shit a pecan log, do it!” He laughs. “The really interesting shit is where (guest vocalist, Pere Ubu’s) David Thomas actually conducted us, not just with words and poetry but with his hands. It was the greatest thing ever, it was wild!”

With apologies to Smog Veil, the label that released both Unknown Instructors albums, it is pretty difficult not to think of California’s SST Records when listening to them. Not only are three key members (Baiza, Watt and Hurley) from the SST roster, the new album, The Masters Voice, was recorded at Total Access, where many vintage SST releases were recorded; it’s co-produced by SST fixture Joe Carducci; and the disc features a vocal appearance and cover art – of a dog with its ears perked up – by SST artist Raymond Pettibon (Greg Ginn’s kid brother – you knew that, right?). Practically the only non-SST member is Ohio poet Dan McGuire, a longtime Minutemen/ fIREHOSE/ Saccharine Trust fan and, at 39, the junior member of the band. I asked him about the pooch on the cover.

“Actually, I think (Pettibon) drew that for the first album, and we didn’t end up using it. He copped that from a line in a thing called ‘Creature Comforts’ about a large curious Doberman.” Pettibon came up with the caption and the band, liking the invocation to attentive listening, used it for a title. “My friend thinks (the lyric) says, ‘large curious doorman,’” McGuire laughs. “I get that all the time. People are quotin’ shit back to me and it’s better than what it was to begin with!”

McGuire is a bit perplexed by how often his recorded recitations get associated with the Beats; he figures it’s an immediate leap people make when they hear poetry and music combined, though he does riff off Ginsberg’s “Howl” in “The End of the World” (which finds him “hallucinating semen lithographs flashing in the tongue of cunts.”) “I don’t know what you would call it – it’s not a homage, it’s not a parody, but I wanted to try and take what he did and condense it and say, ‘I can say this in much shorter order.’ Like, Ginsberg is probably the only Beat poet I know very well at all. I’m into a lot of different poets and different styles of poetry.” (The name of the band is taken from Yeats’ “Gratitude to the Unknown Instructors.”)

The semen lithograph cut, “The End of the World,” is, McGuire and I agree, the centerpiece of the album, largely due to Joe Baiza’s blistering, overdriven guitar work. “That was the track I immediately grabbed, I was like, ‘That’s the one,’” McGuire says. “That was the end of a frustrating day, so what you hear is everybody just goin’ at it as hard as they can. It’s kind of the atmosphere of what was goin’ down – we were having some trouble with the engineer, George was late, all kinds of nightmarish shit happened that day, and that was the end of the evening. So it’s basically everyone just going berserk, which I personally like.”

Unfortunately, there are no plans for the Unknown Instructors to tour. Watt tells me he would “love to” play live with them again, “but there’s a lot of commitments to other people,” including, of course, Iggy and the Stooges, with whom Watt is currently touring. 

McGuire got to see the new Stooges lineup in Detroit.

“It was absolutely mind blowing. I mean, I could not believe it,” McGuire says. “You know, they let people crash the stage, and I was very good about it. I let other people cause commotion and just slid up and went up onstage, and I’ve never seen Mike happier anytime in my life. He was doin’ like, Broadway leg kicks and humpin’ his amp, he was doin’ all these moves and shit, but he was smilin’ and he was singin’ the song to me. I’ve never seen him so jacked up. And to see Iggy... I was like, ‘What in the fuck?’ There’s a definition of genius, in this book by F. Scott Fitzgerald called The Crack Up, and he says that ‘genius is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in your head at the same time,” and what Iggy was doing was exactly that. I’m like, ‘This is incredible!’ - because he was running around all unhinged, but you could tell, he was in total charge of everything that was goin’ on. He could hear every note... I just couldn’t believe it. I was prepared for it to be pretty cool, but I was stunned, it was so heavy. I’m guessing I’d prefer to see them like that than I would back in the day when it was a complete riot/ circus. I like seein’ it all tightly wound and put together!”

[For the final, shorter version of this, which ran after having seen the Stooges with Watt, I added the sentence, "Note: Watt humped his amp in Seattle, too. It was pretty cool."]

[Oh, and The Great One is Dead finally got released over here on vinyl and on bandcamp]

3. Mike Watt on the Stooges

Hey, want to read my Mike Watt interview, focusing on his time with the Stooges? It's already on my blog! I actually have an unpublished interview with Watt which I held back because I wanted to time it to the release of a different project of his, which to my knowledge has never come out... That conversation deals a lot with his work with Nels Cline, including discussion of the album Contemplating the Engine Room, a nautically-themed album inspired by Watt's father; somewhere Watt told me that Rickie Lee Jones was a big fan, which has always stuck out as a cool, weird detail... Try to visualize Rickie humming along to "Black Gang Coffee"... I wonder if Baiza has ever played this stuff with Watt live... that's Nels... 


4. Previously unpublished, archival interview with Joe Baiza

Now around the time I was doing that interview, I was also writing for Razorcake, but I was actually kind of a difficult cat back then -- a big ego, lots of opinions, ambitions that I would Become an Important Music Journalist (yeah, right). Maybe I'd write a book! So I was a bit bitchy with the editor of that publication, especially when errors got added to pieces. I wrote a few things for them but I also bitched a lot and that relationship frizzled. 

Which meant that one piece I'd planned for that publication, a talk with Joe Baiza, never saw print, save for the brief excerpts above. (I pitched it another couple of people after that but had no takers, so...). I've gone back to my box of tapes for this, dug out a cassette player, bought some double As, and... here you go, transcribed for the first time. I have simply stolen this image off the net somewhere. That's Baiza in front, circa 1985. 


JUST TO REITERATE: This is an old interview, apropos of a different project, with little bearing on what you will hear at the Corsano/ Baiza/ Watt shows!!!!

AM: So how did Dan get in touch with you for the project with Unknown Instructors?

JB: I think he sent me an email, but I had met him once before when I was on tour with Mike Watt. I played for Mike for about a year when he had Contemplating the Engine Room, and then  in Toledo, I met Dan there. 

AM: Dan was friendly with Watt? 

JB: Yeah, he knew Mike from fIREHOSE and Mike's many tours at that time. 

AM: And he was also a Saccharine Trust fan? How did he approach you?

JB: He just proposed the idea and said that Mike was interested and George, if I would like to do it, and I thought, "Man, this would be great." Just an email explaining anything! It was his project in the beginning, he set the whole thing up.

AM: Had you read his poetry?

JB: No, I wasn't familiar with him, didn't even know he was a poet. The first time I met him in Toledo, I didn't know who he was, just some guy in the audience - some crazy guy! Heh. 

AM: So Dan has said that when you were in studio, all his poetry was overdubs, so -- did you have any idea what he would be reciting?

JB: No no, not like that. We just created the music, tried different approaches to improvising. And both sessions were different. The first sessions were spontaneous, for me, from my perspective. It was a little more "free improvisation." And the second session we did was a little more crafted. But no, we created the music first and Dan went over it and decided what he wanted to use on what. 

AM: So he had no input? 

JB: Well, he leapt into the room once and awhile and yelled some things out:= "Let's do one of these!" Especially on the second session. The first one he'd come in and say some things, he'd propose something and we'd try it. Just some basic idea... some kind of mood he'd want. On the second session, he did some of that, and we had Joe Carducci in the studio, and he did some of that... and then David Thomas directed a few pieces that he was on, and we tried different approaches. Mike would just play, or George would just play. Sometimes I would start something -- not very often, though.

AM: I got that impression, particularly listening to the second recording, it sounded like that George and Mike had some definitive thing that they had worked out, working on a groove, and you were layering stuff over top of it? They established the pattern and you ran with it. 

JB: Yeah, exactly. The first time was more of notes, improvising that way, but the second time there were more layers, sound textures. It wasn't as busy. We purposely made it that way so it wouldn't be too cluttered, trying that approach. Some things are pretty busy, but y'know... I left a lot of more space in there. 

AM: It seems busier in a "rock" way. 

JB: Yeah, it's purposely done that way. Dan wanted to add a little more "rock" flavour to it. I think you mentioned to me a particular song in there --

AM: "The End of the World?" 

JB: Yeah. That was one of the things Dan sort of directed: "Just go for it!" We were playing a lot, playing for a couple of hours, then -- "One more time!" And just out of frustration, you blast one out. That might have been one of those pieces... that mood was in the room. 

AM: It sounds like it was a pretty tense day, that some of you were butting heads with the engineer...

JB: Yeah, we recorded at Total Access, where a lot of SST things were done. Saccharine Trust's Surviving You Always was recorded there. To me that studio is just something from the past, you know? And we were looking for a studio; I think Mike and Dan had decided on a studio, but they somehow they didn't want to go with it. And then it was getting close, and Dan just chose Total Access. It was his decision. I think he just got the idea from the back of the SST Record. 

AM: I'm not sure I know what you mean, "something from the past."

JB: To me, those were different times. I remember recording Surviving You, Always. And when we would record for SST in the old days, you had a certain amount of time to do a record, so many hours; just record it, and then you're out of there. So it was kind of stressful. I think we had two or three sessions, but it was pretty rigorous. And I just recall being really tired and recording that album and just really struggling. 

But that's the funny thing about SST and the way they worked back then, especially in that studio...  because one funny thing that engineer told me was that the owner talked to him about "those SST guys": "Oh, they're from that time!" And the owner told a story about how SST had booked a block of time to record some Black Flag cuts or something, and then I guess the owner or his assistant walked in and everyone was just asleep! The engineer SPOT was asleep on the board and people were just sleeping on the floor or like, asleep, sitting in chairs, just sleeping in position, you know? (Laughs) And then he woke up SPOT and they went "Whoa, okay, let's get back to work" and everyone just shifts and gets back to it, y'know? They must have just dropped out of fatigue! 

But I kind of remember that way of working. You're tired all the time. That's what Total Access reminded me of, working hard on that Surviving You, Always record. It was something from the past like that.  I didn't think it was anything special, that studio; that was it -- SST had some kind of deal going with those people. But, I thought, "Total Access. We're bring the 80s back?" or something...

AM: It's appropriate, though, because The Master's Voice really reminds me of music from that time. That old October Faction/ Tom Troccoli's Dog/ Saccharine Trust kind of feeling. It brings back that time to me a lot. Does it do that with you, or...?

JB: Well, when you say October Faction and Tom Troccoli, that's a long time ago! I think we've gotten better at improvising since then. 

AM: Well, yeah. 

JB: That's when we started doing that kind of music, but now we've been doing it a long time, in many different ways, all of us... everyone's developed that kind of approach, you know. But... it was a nice room, but I did have trouble with the engineer, because I wanted to record it all in one room, with the drums in the same room as all of us, because it lent to improvising a little better! But the engineer wanted to change things around right from the gitgo; he wanted to separate the drums in another room, with headphones... and, I don't know, it's not what we were going to do. So we had some difficulty -- it went on from there but it's just boring to talk about that! 

AM: In a way I'm grateful to him if he stressed you guys out enough that it produced "The End of the World," that's an amazing piece of music. 

JB: I don't think it was really him, just the nature of playing for a long time: "Let's do another one! Let's do another one." We were working pretty hard in there, and it started late, too because George had arrived late... so we really had to kick ass, there, you know? 

AM: Do you have a preference between the two Unknown Instructors albums?

JB: I like the second one!

AM: Me too. The first one lacks the punch; I think Watt said it was "apprehensive." 

JB: It was sort of meandering. We were just sort of feeling our way. This seems a little more in the pocket. And for myself, I was more calm: I was trying to keep things uncluttered and create moods, as opposed to playing a bunch of notes. And occasionally Dan would suggest these rock things: let's have some overdrive here, make it really rock out. So I would just try that approach, which I don't normally do when I play, but I can do it.

AM: Is that because you spent so much of your last two years doing jazz related stuff? You seem to have devoted a lot of time to jazz.

JB: Yeah, I've focused on that a lot -- not just jazz, but all types of music. It's just my sound. I like a clean sound on a guitar. I'm really into the sound of a string being plucked, you know? So my approach to the guitar is more percussive. And I don't really use a lot of overdrive, although it's something I can try, I can do. But it wouldn't always be my choice to do that.

AM: What are your own favourite projects that you've been involved in, recording-wise.


JB: Recordings, let me think? There's a Universal Congress Of album called Eleventh Hour Shine On. I really like that album. And there are some Mecolodiacs records that no one has ever heard of, that's the bass player from Universal Congress Of [Ralph Gorodetsky] and  the old drummer of Saccharine Trust, 
Tony Cicero, And then we did another one with Wayne Griffin who is in Congress right now, that we recorded in Germany. Some of the stuff I do with Mecolodiacs is pretty cool.

AM: See, I haven't actually heard that. I have the This is Mecolodics thing you did with Universal Congress Of, which is a good album... although it sounds like the entire idea of Mecolodics was a bit of a joke at that point? [Note: not sure now why I was saying that: re-listening to some of the material, though, it reminds me of late-phase Coltrane, which is pretty cool and clearly no joke. It might have been mostly a reaction to the cover? Luckily Baiza didn't take umbrage...]. 




JB: Well, 'cos I was into Ornette Coleman and his whole "Harmolodics" thing, which I didn't understand... but it was a joke someone came up with, we had some nicknames at work and I was "El Meco." 

AM: El Meco? I don't understand. 

JB: It was just a stupid thing we were doing at work. We were taking a little lunch break and there was a little hat shop around the corner, where you could put a name in front of the hat, and one of the guys was like, "Let's get some hats, and we all can put our name on there!" So they came up for themselves, so I was like, "I'll be El Meco." We were doing gang names, you know? And "meco" means "sperm" in some gang slang, or something, y'know, so I was like, The Sperm. Everyone thought it was disgusting, but most people didn't know what that word meant, so it was just sort of an in-joke: MECO, y'know? [Laughs]. But then one of my workmates, a week later, was like, "Hey Joe, if you like harmolodic music, and you're El Meco, I would think you play Mecolodics! Hahaaha!" I said, "Great, that's it, that's what I do? Mecolodics!" 

AM: Does Ornette Coleman know any of this? 

JB: I doubt it! (laughs). Mecolodics is a little offshoot of the jazz tree... I was coming up with my theory: harmolodics is one of the branches to come off the jazz tree, and there's a little scraggly twig that grows off, and that's called Mecolodics: it's kind of punk jazz, y'know? So that's what I called it. But the name just came along and was applied to what I was already trying out... I came from a punk rock background, and was fascinated by jazz music, but I wasn't a jazz musician, wasn't schooled in this way, but at some point I was like, "If I can figure out to play this rock music from nothin', why don't I do that with jazz, too?" So it was kind of a punk jazz approach. So I was learning Ornette Coleman songs and we'd have our fast, sloppy versions of them, y'know? And then we'd apply other kinds of music we liked, mixed it together, a hybrid of music with a punk attitude. So people think that punk rock was just power chords and fast eighth-note kind of thing, but I was like, "No, it can be anything, you can stretch that attitude to other kinds of music. So that's what I do now. I'm always researching music and trying to inspire myself to do something new and creative.

AM: How do jazz audiences down there respond? It's my impression that jazz audiences are kind of hard to please, hard to reach. Are they receptive?

JB: Well, y'know, we really don't play to jazz audiences, we play to people who listen to all types of music. And we're kind of a good band for that kind of ear, because if you have someone who is into rock music, and they like interesting music, and they're like, "Uh, I kinda like jazz but I don't know," and then they hear us: Wow! I mean, now I'm  Joe Baiza's Congress Of, and the way I have it arranged, it's made for the initial listener, or someone who wants something exciting. I have structured the music in that way. I keep the solos real short and the arrangements tight, so it's like the Ramones version of playing jazz. The songs are like four minutes or something -- ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, that's it, then pow! Onto the next one, or a slow one or something.

I mean, I dunno, jazz audiences... sometimes we'll play a venue where there are some people who are familiar with jazz, and they're sort of charmed by it, I guess; they laugh or think that's funny. But most people appreciate it, because we never really play to a strictly jazz audience, unless we were touring with Universal Congress Of in Europe, in the old days. There were some dates where we did open up for some heavyweights, you know? 

AM: Like who?

JB: I'm trying to remember. They'd have these festivals, and there'd be these well-known jazz musicians on the bill, and we were some opening act or something. People were a little bit puzzled by that. We had some fans in Germany who liked us, but I guess in those situations most people were a little puzzled by what we were trying to do. 

AM: I've interviewed Nels Cline, and it sounds like he's had to struggle with the jazz/ rock thing, not knowing where he fits in, wanting to be credible in both worlds. It sounds like it's not something that causes you a lot of grief. 

JB: Not really, I just do what I do and I'm not worried about it. I'm not trying to put a label on it. I'll say "punk jazz," I'll give it that label, instead of Mecolodics, because if I say "Mecolodics" when someone says, "What kind of music do you play?" they don't know what I'm talking about! But if I say, "Kind of a punk jazz music," at least they get an idea. But Nels has got more of a hold on the jazz world than I do. When I first heard Nels, he came across as a very serious musician, and I think I'd seen him play with a quartet way back, and he was acoustic. And then later on with Julius Hemphill, "There's that Nels Cline guy again!" And I'd see him around here and there with different things. But the first time I'd seen him in an edgier context was when he had a trio, that he used to have when he did New Music Mondays, and it was a night at another club, and I was doing a free improvised thing, just myself on a guitar, kind of a noise thing; but I kind of made it theatrical -- I had some friends who set up a little card table and a lamp next to me, so they're playing cards and drinking whiskey and ignoring me. It was kind of a funny thing. And then Nels Cline comes on, and it's the first time I'd heard him with an edgier group: "Wow it's almost like rock music." I was kind of excited -- "Wow, great, you know?" So that's when I first saw that. [Just guessing from the time of this interview, but I'm thinking this might have been from the Destroy All Nels Cline period? I don't think Nels was in Wilco yet].  

But I guess I don't worry about where I fit, because I can't fit in, anyways. I really don't fit in; it's kind of a problem for me...

AM: Well... if we could descend into darker waters...  [there is some laughter and incomprehensible muttering here]. Dan McGuire was saying that he heard you and Jack Brewer at a Festival in England saying that Saccharine Trust was cursed? 


JB: Oh yeah. 

AM: You've had some of the worst luck I've heard of. 

JB: Yeah, it's true! 

AM: And you're still playing? Saccharine Trust still exist!

JB: Well I didn't say Saccharine Trust are cursed, but Jack Brewer and I are cursed. And whoever's closely involved with us will certainly be cursed as well. I don't know what it is -- we worked hard, and we tried to do something different, but it wasn't always successful. And sometimes it was, but things just didn't work out. I'm just so used to that now, it doesn't faze me anymore! (Laughs). I mean that's been the history of Saccharine, I guess: I mean, we'd have a gig, and we did some good gigs, I guess -- but we'd have a big gig where it's going to be a nice breakthrough, and something goes wrong, and we can't do the gig, or... When I first met Jack, we both have this kind of psychic... thing over us, I don't know how to describe it. But "cursed" is kind of funny. I am kind of half-joking about that, but...

AM: You got one of your hands really busted up in Europe, right?

JB: Yeah, one of my hands was hit with a baseball bat. 

AM: Why? Who? 

JB: It was some fascist guys in East Germany. I'll tell the story again -- I've told it quite a few times, but this was maybe the mid-90s, and I was staying at a friend's flat in Treptow, which is in the Eastern part of Germany, just east of Kreuzberg. And of course there was no wall anymore, so a lot of the people from Kreuzberg moved into Treptow, because there are these really cheap flats. Things were really still trying to develop after the wall came down, so they'd get these cheap apartments. And a drummer friend of mine lived there, the original drummer for Universal Congress Of; he'd moved to Germany, and lived there, so whenever I came into Germany and did tours, I wanted to hang out in Berlin, and he'd allow me to stay at his flat. He'd go off to his girlfriend's or something, so I had the place to myself. But one night I was going out to see someone, and it was kind of late, about midnight, and I'm walking down the street to the U-Bahn (German rapid transit), and there were these really wide sidewalks. It was this really old street, a wide street with big trees. And it's dark, no one's out there. And I had a beer in my hand, because I was drinking a beer inside the apartment. I guess you're allowed -- you can walk around with a beer in Germany, I guess; I just thought, "I'll finish this beer on the way to the U-Bahn." But I'm walking, and I see these three silhouettes coming towards me down the sidewalk, and they're walking in a line, one to the right, one to the left, one in the centre, towards me, but they're spread out a bit; they're not walking together talking. They seem to be on some kind of mission, you know?

AM: Right.

JB: It was like something out of A Clockwork Orange or something. I could see them coming towards me, and -- "uh-oh, that looks kind of funny." And I thought, see, if I cross the street and then they cross the street, that means real trouble; they might chase after me. I decided I'm just going to pretend there's nothing going on, I'm just going to walk right past them. And when I got to them, the center guy jumped in front of me and started yelling at me in German. And he had some sort of baseball cap under his arm, and he whipped it out; it had some sort of symbol on it, on the front. He was hiding the baseball cap -- he wasn't wearing it, it was just under his arm. It was like his credentials or something; he shoved it in my face. Not IN my face, but right in front of my eyes: he didn't really touch me, though. He was going like this and yelling in German. It sounded like he was saying, "You know who I am? You know what this means? You know who we are?" It sounded like he was saying something like that. And all of a sudden, I realized, "Oh shit, it's these Nazi guys." And they're dressed like guys going out to the disco or something; they're not looking like guys with big boots on or anything. And then I had a backpack and that beer in my hand and I said, "Don't fuck with me!" I thought I'd tell him something like that -- "I've got something in my bag, I'll pull it out." And then he just froze, just looked at me, and didn't do anything. And then the guys on the sides start coming around the side of me, like surrounding me, and I looked over and saw one guy take a baseball bat out from under his trenchcoat. I could see a shadow of it: "Uh-oh." And I looked over at the main guy real quick, and before I knew it, the bat swung and hit my hand that was holding the beer bottle. He was pretty good with the bat! Fast, accurate. I didn't expect he would do it that quickly. I looked at him, looked at the other guy, and WHUP! That was it, my arm was flying behind my back with the impact. Everything went blank, and the next thing I knew I was running really fast down the sidewalk; my legs thought before my mind did. And I was running really fast. I can run really fast; I was running a lot back then. They tried to chase me a little bit, but they couldn't, they gave up. I started walking. I looked back at them and yelled at them, and they were yelling at me. I thought, "Man, that's kind of crazy." 

And then I was heading towards the U-Bahn, as I walked up the steps, I saw something on my hand, and I looked down and there was a welt on the back of my hand the size of half a tennis ball. With all the adrenaline, I hadn't even realized I'd gotten hit. And then I realized, "Oh, man, they hit my hand." Finally I went to the hospital, and my hand was broken. That was the end of that. 

AM: How long did that put you out of commission as a musician?

JB: Oh, a few months, yeah... a few months. But all the bones were broken. The scary thing was, what were they planning to do? If I didn't have that beer bottle in my hand, would they have struck me in the head. What would they have done if I wasn't holding the bottle? It might have been my head.

AM: Were you holding the bottle like a weapon?

JB: I was holding it like you hold a bottle of beer! I didn't even think I could the beer bottle as a weapon. It was just in my hand. And I think the guy with the bat thought, "He could use that as a weapon, so let me go for that first." So he went for my hand. That's how it went. If I was holding it, I don't know what he would have done; that's the scary part. Would they have fucked me up? 

AM: Was this like, a racist hate crime, or a random stranger attack, or...?

JB: It was certainly racist. And hatred. It's random as well, because I think they were looking for someone. Someone who was not white and German, someone who was not like them. Even a white person would get attacked if they were looking freaky or something; I think the youth at the time over in East Germany, in East Berlin, were kind of disappointed with how things went after the wall came down, so if they didn't have a job or something, they were pissed off, and they think, "These damn Turks," or Cubans or Vietnamese or whoever was doing the grunt work over there... they may have thought I was somebody like that. Although I did tell them "I speak English," and that didn't stop them. I think they were just out to beat someone up. And I talked to people in those days who lived in the area and they said, "Yeah, you have to watch out for that, they travel around like that and try to find someone." Usually they don't bother you if it's one-on-one; they seem to be more afraid. Because I used to see them before, too, by themselves; they'd give me a dirty look. But they wouldn't do anything -- they wouldn't do anything unless there was more than one of them. Then they would go for you. 

AM: Sorry to make you tell that story once again. But... stop me if this gets too depressing, but you also recently busted your thumb, didn't you? 

JB: Oh, yeah! That's just a work injury. 

AM: What sort of work do you do? 

JB: I work for a company that handles fine art. We go around town and install it and de-install it and move it around. And we pack it for shipping and storage; they build crates for paintings and sculptures and pick them up at the museums and galleries, pick them up at collectors' homes... that's something that just happened at work! I can't remember how I did that!

AM: Your hands work fine now, you have full use of both!

JB (laughing): Well, now I have carpal tunnel syndrome! My hand goes numb when I play -- I have a problem with my left hand. I don't know what I'm going to do about that yet. I think it's a work-related thing. 

AM: Derek Bailey figured out how to play...

JB: Really, did he have carpal tunnel?

AM: He had carpal tunnel syndrome. In fact, one of his last albums for Tzadik was called Carpal Tunnel, and he developed this technique so he could play around it...

JB: When did he get carpal tunnel? 

AM: You know, I don't know the full story, just know that he had it towards the end -- I think it was a fairly late development, the last five years of his life. 

JB: Oh yeah. It's crazy, you know: I don't know what brought it on. My boss says it's guitar playing, but I don't know, I'm not using my hand like this eight hours a day on the guitar! But it's a bit of a problem. I guess an operation is an option, but I don't know if I'm going to do that. I just try to avoid things that make my hand go numb. But if it continues, it can get worse, that's the deal, so at some point I have to do something. 

AM: Right, right. 

JB: But then I don't have time! If they cut my hand open, then I'm laid up again for I-don't-know-how-many-months, you know? And I've got a lot of things I'm working on, I don't want to put them on hold. 

AM: It's like you should see a naturopath or something, see if there's a less intrusive option. 

JB: That's kind of the method I would like to try. 




AM: Okay, well, more bad luck: The Great One is Dead, the most recent Saccharine Trust album, is completely out of print and unavailable [again, note; it is now back in print and can be gotten through bandcamp]. What happened with that? 

JB: Well, it's available in Europe!

AM: I don't know, Hazelwood (the label) never answered my emails. And it's not available new through Amazon Germany. 

JB: Maybe Hazelwood is having some problems? I've heard some rumours. I've tried to contact the head guy at Hazelwood, sent him an email, but I never got a response. I'm not sure what's going on.

AM: The only was I could get it, there was one copy used on Amazon Germany. I ended up paying forty bucks to get it.

JB: Well, here's the deal, I am the one who has the rights to the album here in the United States, so if I can find someone I can license it to, they can put it out here. No one has approached me, and I haven't approached anyone. Which is crazy: it was recorded in 1999, and it's something we all want to do, but we've never done it. Someday maybe I'll get it together and release it here in the US. But that's funny: I thought Hazelwood was still issuing that.

AM: Well, I mean, maybe. 

JB: What happened when you contacted Hazelwood?

AM: Nothing. I tried to order two copies. I didn't get a response. 

JB: Yeah, I didn't get a response either, but it's hard to know what's going on... I'll check that out. 

Joe Baiza, Hero's Welcome, Vancouver, Oct. 2023 by Allan MacInnis

AM: How did that get set up? Do you have a big fanbase in Germany, then?
 
JB: Universal Congress Of did. We went over there in 1989. It all started with an interview for Spex Magazine, this German magazine. People really respected the magazine, it had a big voice. And we were doing one of those music seminars in New York. I forget which one it was, but it was a big SST night at CBGBs. And Universal Congress Of played, and a number of other SST groups, and there was this woman walking around interviewing certain groups. And then she interviewed us, and we kind of went into our little joke mode, because most of the people who interviewed us didn't understand anything about what we were doing, so we just started making up our jokes, and she was kind of taking them literally. And then we realized, she actually understood what we were doing, so we had a serious interview with her, talking about music and all this, and... fine, all right. So they did a piece on SST, and they did a piece on certain SST groups, and Universal Congress Of was one of them. So that created some interest over in Germany. 

So in 1989, through the help of someone, I contacted a booking agent. I forget who it was. The booking agent says, "Yeah, I can book you some shows, sure! Sure!" We said, "Great, let's try it, what the heck." We went over there in 1989, and we didn't know what would happen; we thought maybe it would be like that one gig we did in Huntsville, Alabama, where there were fifteen people in the audience. But our first gig, we walk in the room, and it's just jam-packed with people, and everyone's staring at us: a full house, and we did the show -- it was a great show, and everyone had a good time. We thought, "That's strange, that was cool." So our second show, we thought, "that was just a weird thing that happened for our first show," but our second show was the same way, and the third, and the fourth. All the shows were like that! So there was an interest in the group like that. And at that time, I think a lot of the music fans there were interested in independent, underground music in the United States. This was before the "alternative" thing started happening. So they were the first people I'd seen who were really aware of and interested in that kind of music. And they knew a lot about it, too! They knew surprisingly a lot; I don't know how they found out their information, but they knew more about groups than I would know. But that's what happened, anyway; we started going there and playing every year for about four or five years. We did really well. 

AM: Is there is more in print there than there is over here?

JB: It's the same story, I was on a label called Enemy, but I don't know if he's still putting stuff out. It's been a long time since I've been over there, but now I have different groups: Saccharine Trust, of course, and Congress Of, and I have this group called Puttanesca... like the pasta sauce? 

AM: Isn't puta like a protestitute?

JB: Yeah, it's a prostitute's mixture of elements, or something like that. 

AM: I see. 

JB: That has a female singer. It's kind of abstract lounge music. And then I've got a cover group called the Cardovas who do all Meters songs. And then there's just one-offs I play. 

AM: Things like Unknown Instructors. 

JB: Unknown Instructors, right. See, that's kind of what I'm doing now: I'm doing music! And if I can go to Europe, that's great.

AM: Right! So, the SST stuff, that's all out of print now?

JB: I don't know. That's another deal, these record label guys, what are they doing, I don't know?! (Laughs). I'm so busy with my life, I don't go back and say, "Well, what's going on." 

AM: I just think that it's a shame: Surviving You, Always was the first Saccharine Trust that I heard and it's got a really warm spot in my heart. It sunk deep. And it's never been out on CD...

JB: Greg refuses to put it out! 

AM: Why?

JB: He says it costs too much to manufacture it! His exact words. I mean... what kind of reasoning is that, but that's what he told me: "I'm not going to sell enough to cover my costs for manufacturing." 

AM: It's a CD! How much does it cost? They're really cheap!

JB: Ask him! (Laughs). I mean... I'm not a businessman, but all these label guys, they're all really slippery, and they've all got their agenda. What they're up to, I don't know. For me, it's hard to deal with that kind of stuff, because it's so annoying. Something needs to be done, but it's hard to deal with. 

AM: You just want to play the music. 

JB: Yeah, exactly! 



L-to-R: Baiza Corsano Watt at Hero's Welcome, by Allan MacInnis

[NOTE: That's all I can do right now, but there may be more added to this next week (there's about 20 more minutes on the tape, but *I'm* gonna get carpal tunnel if I keep hammering at this -- and other duties call. Meantime, the tour is happening NOW, up the west coast. See you at the Vancouver show, at the very least! More on which below...]

5. Corsano/ Baiza/ Watt Trio

Now here's the thing: the band member at this upcoming Vancouver show that I think actually is most significant to how the evening will sound is drummer Chris Corsano. I've never interviewed him, never seen him, though I have an album he's on with Wally Shoup and Nels Cline, which is one blistering session of flat-out free jazz, worthy of its title, Immolation/ Immersion, especially if you're being immolated in, say, molten lava. From what I hear of the album with Corsano, Baiza and Watt, it's closer in spirit to Corsano's normal wheelhouse than it is to that of Watt or Baiza -- both of whom can get jazzy, but who are primarily known as rock musicians.  

[Post-show note: that may all be true on some level, in that I think Corsano does a lot more true free jazz stuff on a regular basis than either Watt or Baiza, but now that I've seen the show, it's really Baiza who stands out. Watt and Corsano are the foundation but Baiza is the building, if you see what I mean? I mean, guitar IS a "lead instrument" for a reason (tho' Watt got the biggest cheers whenever band members were introduced, because Watt!!!). Totally improvised set but one piece jelled so well, Watt and Baiza digging into a pattern together, that it sounded like it was a composed song, not a spontaneous discovery -- Watt assures me that it was NOT composed, that this was his first all-improvised live tour of the 72 he's done (if I got that right; it's hard to get deets right at a concert). Watt also tells me that they're working on a FIFTH Unknown Instructor's album!!! Jeezus! People were real respectful of him. A few people asked him to sign stuff but no one, including me, "pulled a Gerald" on him, if you see what I mean (I mean, I thought about it -- I do have a few Minutemen records around but I stuck with asking him to sign Contemplating the Engine Room and an Unknown Instructors LP, which arrived in the mail that very afternoon. If I'd realized that Baiza did the cover art for Buzz or Howl Under the Influence of Heat, mind you, I would have got both men to sign that, too). Hey, where the hell was Gerald, anyhow? Seems like a show you'd have seen him at...

[Audience wasn't bad, chatterwise, but I ducked out at one point, was alone in the back room trying to send a text to Joe Baiza -- he wanted to see this article and gave me a number but how do you text to a US number? -- and there are video games and stuff back there -- Hero's Welcome is a well laid-out bar, tho' I think it's key to get their early if you're there for the music -- and there was a guy in a Big Boys shirt who I think was hopin' on some PUNK ROCK who came back to shoot deer on a video game while the band were playing. It wasn't that noisy but I was pretty amused, imagined a thought bubble over his head, like, "fuck this jazz shit, I'm killing something!"

[TBH jazz isn't really in my wheelhouse either these days but I thought it was interesting to try to engage with this new music and I sure would have bought an LP of it if they'd had any available. Customs interfered in that, sadly. I would have bought a shirt if they had any that fit, but nada there, too. I realized at some point that I've only actually seen three people do sets of improvised guitar stuff in my entire life: Nels Cline, Eugene Chadbourne, and now Joe Baiza... and though he's nowhere as wacky/ playful as Eugene, what kind of surprised me (given that Baiza has toured with Watt in Nels' place) is that what he did reminded me more of Eugene than Nels in his playing. But I can't do it justice.... real interesting night, hope someone gets a record in, maybe that's what Ford was talking to Watt about, but maybe not... I couldn't hear... just snapped a photo...). 

[BTW re: signatures at one point I did get to chat with Chris Corsano, as well, who looks about 20 years younger than he actually is (late 40s) and told him I would have brought something for him to sign as well, but I only had a CD of his -- Immolation/ Immersion -- and who cares about signed CDs? (I mean, some people, but...). I did say it fuckin' rocked as an album, though, and got a grin out of him. If y'all like Nels Cline and don't know that album, it's... not Wilco!).

[We now return to my previous article, un-amended, written before the show]. 

So this is going to be an unusual tour to catch. There will (I presume) be neither Minutemen or Saccharine Trust songs [there were not!]. I doubt anyone will sing at all -- I'd almost be disappointed if they did; I'd certainly be surprised. [No one sang] This will (probably) be an all-improvised set [it was]; it will also probably COOK [it did]. It may be a wee challenge to see any of these shows if you've left it this long: The Hero's Welcome show is sold out online, and only a few tickets will be available at the door. There are shows in Victoria and Nanaimo, as well, which also appear to be sold out. The Nanaimo gig is at the Vault and booked by Jeremy of Shearing Pinx, Crotch, and Earthball, who, with Izzy of those bands, runs a very fun store upstairs. The Vault is a cool space, full of character and charm, and the store, Wyrd Wealth, is packed with fun items, including the single largest collection of Harry Crews books I've seen at a bookstore in the lower mainland, a hot sauce rack, new and used vinyl, and... lots more. (I wonder what Mike Watt thinks of Harry Crews? He's probably the best-read rocker I've spoken with,,,). 

Welcome back to Vancouver, Chris Corsano, Joe Baiza, Mike Watt! May your tour be delightful and fruitful. See you at Hero's Welcome and maybe one of the other shows as well? 

More info here