The Wages of Fear versus Sorcerer versus Los Furios

If you push me hard enough to pin down a favourite movie, I'll probably end up at William Friedkin's Sorcerer, screening this weekend at the Cinematheque (and once more on February 17th). There are other contenders -- Clear Cut for its rage, honesty, potency, and fearlessness; Phase IV for its artful WTF-did-I-just-see weirdness ("now even weirder" with the preview cut on blu); Love Streams for its bravura ineffability (like, when the dog shows up, in human form, and Cassavetes is laughing, deranged on the couch: "Who the fuck are you?" And it's never explained). But Sorcerer has scenes of such intensity it will make you sweat. 

I mean, look at that fuckin' poster. That's not just something they're faking; it's a real scene in the film. There's a truck on a rope bridge. There's a person on that bridge. The one time I had the Rebel Spell over for lunch, feeding the band before Adstock Maple Ridge, I remember that this poster was up in my kitchen and it caught Todd's eye and I highly recommended the film, but I doubt he ever saw it (it was less than a year before he died). And the thing about that poster is -- I mean, sorry, Mr. Herzog, but Friedkin takes the prize, here, for macho bravura filmmaking, five years before Fitzcarraldo: That's a real rope bridge, over a real river, and that's a real truck, and they're really doing this insane thing, and they're doing it in a vastly less self-impressed way (Sorcerer >>>>>> Fitzcarraldo a hundredfold), with no acolyte on hand to document it... (I like Herzog too, but prefer him when his characters are smaller-than-life, as in Stroszek, another of those shortlist films).  

Plus you've got to love that the year Sorcerer came out, Star Wars was the big hit and everyone pretty much ignored the other film, pissed off because it wasn't The Exorcist again (David M. has opined that the occultish title of Sorcerer was what sunk it, because people wanted "more Exorcist" and it sure isn't that; he may be right, but it's still a hilarious testament to the stupidity of the masses that they could somehow miss this film). For literal decades, between 1977 and 2013, Sorcerer existed in obscurity, Friedkin licking his wounds, his masterpiece ignored: the only way you could get it on home video was as a crap pan-and-scan full frame VHS, then a crap pan-and-scan full frame DVD, among the worst-looking home video releases ever. That's just hilarious: it's only the most intense, most vividly cinematic highbrow existentialist action thriller ever made, and people missed it, didn't care, and persisted in that state for nearly forty years. 

Nice that it eventually got re-evaluated, and in Friedkin's lifetime, too. Maybe I'll re-read the relevant chapter in his autobiography? 

Sorcerer -- in its fully restored form -- plays twice this month at the Cinematheque and if you have never seen it on the big screen, you simply must. When it was re-released theatrically a few years ago, I caught it four or five times, but I'll probably go again for the second screening (feckin' Los Furios should be flattered as hell that I'm going to miss one screening of it, this Saturday, to see them at the Rickshaw, but you can raise a sweat by dancin', too). And for added punch, it's being screened with The Wages of Fear, the film it's an adaptation of; truly ambitious, athletic -- hell, truly masochistic -- cinephiles have a chance to catch them back to back both this weekend, and on Monday the 17th. 

I like Sorcerer more than Wages, but I've only ever seen Wages once (!).

Kinda akin to Treasure of the Sierra Madre, both films deal with desperate people who team up to try to dig their way out of a hole in a depressed Latin American country. Like that film, they go on a transformative journey, from which (not much of a spoiler, really, but...) not all of them will return. But that film -- Treasure, not Wages -- leaves you laughing, is in a backhanded way kind of uplifting, whereas Sorcerer -- I wonder if, like, Jean Paul Sartre ever saw it? Nietzsche obviously didn't, and (I pause to look up when Camus died) neither did Camus. If I knew my existentialists well enough, I'd be able to say whose sense of life is best captured here, but the ending of Sorcerer is... well, grim to say the least, even though, y'know, there is some dancing there, too. 

Dancing is important. 

Note: I had some outtakes from that Los Furios thing I did for Montecristo that I considered posting but in fact I think I want to focus on some other stuff this weekend: the Montecristo article was real fun, and their show afterwards was great (they dedicated "Revolution Rock" to me!) but it can stand on its own, though I'm happy the band has reconvened now that their new album is finally out to play again (they talked about how the album was more punk than ska but it's still pretty ska by me). And the Vanrays and Paul Pigat... holy shit! Not a gig you want to miss (unless it's to see Sorcerer...).   

PS. Hey, look, there's a Netflix remake of The Wages of Fear that is almost completely unrecognizeable! Does it get good? It hasn't yet, but I only held out for half an hour or so. 

Black Viiolet: Lynchian lounge by way of Alternative Tentacles

All-girl Alternative Tentacles garage-surf band The Darts -- whom Blag Dahlia has said "smolder and shine like a serpent at the end of a rainbow” -- are not coming to Vancouver (at least not anytime I've heard about), but spend a minute on their Nosferatu-themed video for dark garage-surf song "Love U 2 Death," or their peppy "Breakup Makeup" or, well, anything off their bandcamp, because Nicole Laurenne, The Darts' singer, is coming, performing a more sultry sort of song under another name: Black Viiolet (bandcamp here, Linktree here, newest video for "Yin Yang" here -- spend a minute on that, too, but also maybe "Kill Me Now" or "Waiting on Me"). 

Black Viiolet's music gets described as "spy lounge torch chill" or (by Da Music, out of Belgium)  as "a kind of cinematic voodoo-jazz, from which echoes of the Twin Peaks universe shine through." She'll be performing it with a live band this Friday at LanaLou's: sultry dark trip-hop-inflected torch songs that indeed do get one thinking about the contributions of David Lynch to contemporary musical culture (neverminding his actual music, what effect did Blue Velvet have, besides giving a boost to a certain Roy Orbison song? In Black Viiolet's case, the influence is indirect, at best, but we'll get to that presently!). 

Nicole -- Ms. Viiolet -- took time to answer some email interview questions apropos of her upcoming show.

Black Viiolet at the Waldorf by Patrick Powers

ALLAN: So are the Darts done? Is Black Viiolet a side-project or your new main focus? It's quite a departure -- what was the impetus?

NICOLE: The Darts are going strong! We have lots of tours - USA, UK, and Europe - coming up in 2025 starting with a PNW tour in February. Black Viiolet is intended as a solo project for me. I began as a child studying classical piano very seriously, and then dabbled in jazz a little. As I had less time in life with work and kids, I entered the rock world in a new-wave band and then the punk/garage world with The Love Me Nots and finally The Darts. But in my spare time I listen to more jazz and triphop and chill stuff, more than almost anything else. I write songs constantly, and have been for my entire life pretty much. So I have a huge catalog of songs in all kinds of bizarre genres. 

I had this idea during the pandemic to put torch songs over trip hop beats, and wrote a bunch of tracks in this style. I think I got inspired by a video of Shirley Bassey singing with Propellerheads. I added upright bass lines and horn lines, inspired by Digable Planets (and have been incredibly honored to have Digable Planets’ drummer Conrad Real with me live and on this album!). My Darts manager heard my demos in 2023 and convinced me that I should do something with them. So he helped me put together a band of top-notch French jazz musicians and a rehearsal space in the French countryside while The Darts were off tour that summer, and Black Viiolet was off and running. I wanted it to remain a solo project so that I had complete freedom to make it whatever I heard in my head, and to have musicians from everywhere rotate in and out to keep things fresh and mobile. It has been one of the most satisfying experiences of my musical life so far.

I’m actually working on writing about Ani Kyd Wolf, also signed to A/T (and a friend of Jello’s). How was your time there? Was Jello directly involved with the signing of the Darts? (I can see him really liking your music).

NICOLE: The Darts are still on Alternative Tentacles, with new music coming out this spring on the label - a split with label mates Tsunami Bomb, actually. Jello was apparently a fan of my last band The Love Me Nots and at first was skeptical that he would even like The Darts as much. But he came to a show in San Francisco and then came right to me at the merch table and told me he loved it even more. We made plans for the first seven-inch record that night. He co-produced our 2023 record Snake Oil and is one of our strongest supporters. He can be tough love but always with love (eg “You’re one of my favorite singers... but you can do even better, here’s how”). He doesn’t pull punches. He’s a legend for a reason.

The only cover on the album is Nina Simone's "My Baby Just Cares for Me," right? Do you do any other Nina Simone? (I realize it wasn’t written by her but assume it was her version that drew you?). It fits very well with the lyrics of the rest of the album – where in the process of putting the album together was it chosen? Are there other covers in your set…?

NICOLE: I haven’t done any other Nina yet; honestly, I don’t really like to do covers because most of these great songs are already perfect the way they are and I don’t want to touch them. But this one spoke to me. It was one of the very first tunes that for some reason I thought of adding a triphop beat underneath, to see how it might fit. And it did. I loved it. The two styles seemed to blend seamlessly. The torch sound brought a classiness and timelessness to the triphop, and the triphop brought a modern edge to the torch. I am adding one more cover song to the set in 2025 - which we will also record in France while on tour in March - because it was the first jazz standard I ever learned, and because I owe an homage to the cartoon character Jessica Rabbit for my love of torch songs.

Are there other singers or musicians who played a big role in crafting Black Viiolet?

NICOLE: Really it all comes from my weird brain. I write all the parts, the beats, the strings, the vibes, the trumpet, everything. Just like with The Darts, I almost always start with a bass line and then move into drums and beats from there. The musicians I brought on board have of course add beautiful nuances and textures and fills and solos, but it is still very much what the demos began with.

“Too punk to fuck” is a pretty fun lyrical image, in “About a Woman.” Was there a particular experience or encounter that informed that image…? (Some would-be Darts groupie, or…?).

NICOLE: Good eye! Actually that line is a direct homage to Jello Biafra. The Dead Kennedys' song “Too Drunk To Fuck” is one of my favorite songs lyrically and musically. And I even love Nouvelle Vague’s lounge take on it. I don’t want to throw anyone under the bus but I have been in a long-term relationship in the past where I honestly think the punk-rock persona of not caring, not wanting and not attaching really did get in the way of this person’s interest in physical intimacy. Too cool for school and too punk to fuck. I was never cool enough for him, and I killed myself trying to be. The whole song is really about that person specifically, if I’m being honest.

Ouch, but... it seems like all the songs could follow the trajectory of a single relationship – that it could be a theme album, with one specific “you” in the After You. Is it? Do you tend to “go all in and roll around…?” (that lyric is almost worthy of Dashiell Hammett or Raymond Chandler or something -- very hardboiled image; nicely phrased!).

NICOLE: I absolutely go all-in and roll around, in everything I do. I don’t know the meaning of half-assed, or procrastination, or maybe. I am working on moderation in my life, but I’m not very good at it. When I want something, I stop at almost nothing to make it happen. The result is that I am left pushing forward alone most of the time, as not many people actually can relate to this level of intensity, in both music and love. The lyrics on this album were written over a long period -- I keep a note folder on my phone of lyric ideas and pull from it when I get a good musical foundation for a song started. So the lyrics reflect a lot of different points in my life, and they are kind of my own self-therapy. I feel like I am always starting over again “after you,” and there have been far too many “you”s. There is a pattern, clearly, and I don’t blame anyone but myself for that. But here we are.

Is "Not About You" [no video for that one yet!] an original? I love it -- I love how you create a whole picture of loss and frustration out of negatives and denial... wonder if there were other songs that do that sort of thing that might have been in your mind when you wrote those lyrics?

NICOLE: Yes that is one of the most recent originals I wrote for the album. I was actually sitting in a hotel room in Hawaii at the time, looking at the sunset and reflecting on my dad’s death, and the end of yet another long-term relationship with someone, and I told myself that I needed to stop writing songs about relationships ending. So I wrote another song about relationships ending. I’m so glad you get it. 

As far as other songs with this vibe that I love: “In My Room” sung by Verdelle Smith (a song Jello first brought to my attention and I fell in love with it) and Otis Redding's "I've Got Dreams To Remember.” Both songs are so wistful, perfectly painting pictures of moments, and both hit me right in the center of my heart.

Black Viiolet by Mike Mitchell

Curious about cinema and its influence -- if there were films or filmmakers that played a role in your image or the presentation of the music? (Curious about David Lynch; I figure that between Blue Velvet's nightclub scenes and Julee Cruise, he actually played a role in keeping people aware of this sort of music... he would have liked this album... I could see Black Viiolet and Blue Velvet having an echo, namewise…?).

NICOLE: Oh you do not want to ask me about my taste in films as I am notorious for having the worst possible taste ever in this medium. But some of my most memorable film moments not surprisingly come from musical moments that blasted into my brain, like seeing light for the first time or something: Prince singing “The Beautiful Ones” in Purple Rain or Juliette Lewis singing “Hardly Wait” in Strange Days or any of the James Bond themes with the accompanying graphics. Those are seared into me and make me want to present music with that much intimate power. 

Several people have mentioned the connection with David Lynch but I never really delved into the catalog; I promise to do it, I know I will be obsessed with it, and I’m not sure why I never did. Too busy watching bad time-travel movies like Terminator 1 and Highlander probably. Sorry about that Mr. Lynch. I’ll do better.

You've played Vancouver before -- so any stories about your experiences here or associations with the city?

NICOLE: The Love Me Nots played Vancouver once or twice I think, way back when, with a Victoria band I loved called The Laundronauts. Black Viiolet just played at The Waldorf this past fall for the first time. The show was very eclectic - goth, indie, and garage, all done very very well, and then.. my little lounge thing in the middle. I was sure it would not go over well with that crowd. But even from the first song it was met with a surprising amount of love and girls were coming up to me in the bathroom later saying “oh my god, what was that, I loved that” and so now I love Vancouver forever. I haven’t explored the city very much and one of these days when I’m not on tour I’ll dig in.

Is there anything I missed, that you want to say about the touring band, the show, etc…?

NICOLE: Black Viiolet’s album release shows are going to be very special to me for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that this is the first full-length album, but also I am beyond thrilled to have one of my favorite drummers on board for the tour in the US and in Europe. Gregg Ziemba plays in the incredible hip hop act Wheelchair Sports Camp out of Denver, and they are labelmates of The Darts with huge support from Jello also. Gregg is a mind-blowing drummer with such style and creativity and showmanship - I cannot wait to have the best seat in the house while he plays these songs live and on the new recordings. Also joining me on the US dates will be Bellingham’s legendary trombonist Andy Codrington and the trumpet-and-sax team of Amara Cairns and Charlie Merth, from Seattle band Out of Stock. And of course bassist Evan Strauss, who has dialed in the most bass sound that speaks over the triphop beats, using a combination of compressors and pedals and a beautiful electric upright bass. When we go to Europe in March, Gregg and Evan will be joined by an all-French horn section, including my original trombonist Basile Conand and trumpeter Jean-Gatien Pasquier. 2025 is really going to be amazing with both of my bands touring hard all over the place. My house is full to the top with merchandise and gear, poised and ready for action. I think I need a plane.

Black Viiolet's release party for After You, also featuring Cass King and the Cassettes and the Judys, will take place this Friday at LanaLou's (362 Powell; Black Viiolet will be second on the bill, note, with the Judys opening). Facebook event page here! 

Black Halos by way of LanaLou's: two fun shows in one day

Talesha held us a table, so Adam Kates and I had a "pre-game show" en route to the Rickshaw, at LanaLou's, for the weekly Mike van Eyes Rock 'n Roll Jamboree. She's at every gig, so she ends up in photos. I am not stalking Talesha.

With apologies to all the fine music we saw today, my favourite thing was a guy named Randy leading "Swingin' Doors" by Merle Haggard, one of the most entertaining country songs ever. But I'm very partial to that song, which I first saw covered by Eugene Chadbourne with Han Bennink and Robots on Fire in a raucous jam at the Cobalt. Sometimes country music actually has some wit to the lyrics, and when it does, there's a good chance it's a song by Merle Haggard. 

We missed a lot of the virtuoso guest star, Paul Pigat, today, but caught a few of his songs, near the end of the set. We'll be able to see him in a proper full format next week at the Rickshaw, opening for Los Furios, anyhow! (My old feature on them here; here's something else I did with Paul awhile back -- a man on everyone's shortlist of the best guitarists in Vancouver... 

Meantime, my favourite photos were of one of the other jamboree guests, Jennifer Styles of the van Divas, who apparently play with some regularity somewhere... she told me, I know she did, but... I trusted I could look it up later, and now learn that they do not have an easily findable link for me to post... anyhow she did some fine old school soul singin'...

Shortly thereafter, Talesha and Adam and I meandered through a couple blocks of urban despair to the Rickshaw, for another soulful, muscular opening set with the Bad Beats; I told Bad Beats co-founder Adam Payne (the evening's other Adam) afterwards that I'd shot "Knock Yourself Out" and he told me it was the first song they ever wrote together ("and it's still our best," chuckling as he said this). 

Followers the Real Sickies had an entertaining stage presence and kept things moving, but I made no notes and remember no songs. I did, however, take some photos!

Then came the Black Halos. I have seen a few different versions of Billy in my day, from "Godlike rock charisma" Billy (which caught me off guard back in 2020) to "obnoxious drunk guy throwing things at audiences and blathering too much" Billy, and had wondered which we would draw. Billy is not ON a spectrum, he IS a spectrum. But considering the steady drainage on the onstage bourbon bottle, he did a pretty amazing job fronting the Halos last night -- charismatic, in control, on point, and yet still kind of sleazy and debauched, as befits him. I enjoyed the songs from their newest album the most -- "A History of Violence," "Better Things" -- but I only got video of the (Vancouver live debut?) of "Capt. Moody" and enjoyed the energy of "Some Things Never Fall," which got a big response from the crowd -- lots of dancing and fist pumping and singing along. I was glad that people got to enjoy themselves, since, as the tour manager explained, this was a one-off, fly-them-out-for-a-west-coast show; there are no other tour dates -- the other guys are heading back to Ontario today, leaving Billy here. Must be kind of bittersweet! 

I don't have much else to report -- after an opener of "Shooting Stars" and "A History of Violence," Billy did a cute onstage "Happy Birthday to You" to a couple members of the audience, with a bemused Rich Jones smirking beside him (Rich watches Billy like he's wondering if he's gonna have to intervene). Billy will sometimes sing Happy Birthdays as Facebook messages to his social media friends, but this is the first time I've seen him do it onstage... it's actually a really sweet thing he did! Bet the people he was singing to had fun with it. 

That was fun to see, but my two favourite notes of the night are otherwise: the last time I saw anyone pass a whisky bottle into the audience, it was Shane McGowan, with the Pogues, sharing stage at the Commodore with Joe Strummer. But he was like, passing it around; Billy just shared a swig with a tall blonde then got it back ASAP. Still: he's on a shortlist with Shane, which is a pretty cool place to be. 

Also, while it is an old joke, when Billy introduced the first encore, "Third Generation Nation" (one of two covers at the end of their set, the other being the Misfits' "Where Eagles Dare"), saying that it was by the "Master Bators," I wondered if there were some suburban squares -- y'know, punk noobs or scene voyeurs drawn by my article or something -- who know nothing of the Dead Boys and thought maybe the Halos were covering a song by a garage group actually CALLED "the Masturbators." Because surely there was a group once by that name? 

(If you want to check, Google that one at your own risk). 

Real fun night in any case -- the Billy you get, the smoker you drink. Or something like that!!! 

Hey, didn't I see the woman there eating a corpse onstage at a Betty Bathory show once? I feel like I've seen her before... Graffenstein Monster, do I remember that name correctly? Maybe not. 

Gadfly, Never Plenty, Computer and Cryptyds: another great gig outside my demographic

(Poster for last night's show)

So Pete Campbell -- y'know, of Pink Steel -- and I were chatting at a gig, possibly the Alienated in Vancouver 20th anniversary show this past fall -- and he asked me something like, "Do young people even go to shows these days?"* 

Understand, the average age of people at the shows Pete plays or goes to seems to be about 60, even if you don't factor in his self-designed-dayjob playing to seniors (discussed here, and pictured above -- that being the seasonal variant, "Sing Along with Pete at Christmas," which, say what you will, pays better than NO FUN at Christmas). You just don't see a lot of 20 year olds coming out for NO FUN or Coach StrobCam, Pete's two current (non-dayjob-related) projects; and while I don't know which bands Pete actually goes to see when he is not himself onstage, I would guess a lot of them are from the 1970s or 1980s -- the bands he loves and remembers from his formative years (like, if the Young Fresh Fellows ever come back to town, Pete will BE there, but Scott McCaughey, the leader of that band, is now 71!).

This phenomenon -- sticking mostly to your own demographic -- is in fact, only natural. If Pete ever SHOULD find himself at the Red Gate or Green Auto or so forth, surrounded by 25-year-olds, he will no doubt feel (the first few times anyways, if he's like me) self-conscious as hell. I speak from experience: You survey the crowd, all at least 40 years younger than you, and think, "Jeezus I'm old," you feel a shiver of dread for your impending mortality, and wonder if people feel suspicious of you, like you're some creepy old guy hanging out near the high school, selling drugs, perhaps, or drawn by the allure of, how to put it delicately, "young pussy" or something: "Will people think I'm a creep?" (The alternative is the judgment that you've somehow failed to grow up, like by the time you're in your 60s, you're supposed to have turned into Ned Flanders or somethin').  

I have gotten beyond this, really. Somewhere I crossed a threshold where I started finding routinely myself in rooms filled with 20-to-25 year olds. Some of these shows are, in fact, classic punk bands with a youthful draw (I would guess the average age of the crowd at the Black Flag gig last month was mayyybe 30?), but then there are nights like last night, when I saw the Crypyds, Computer (who I shot no vid of; sorry), Never Plenty, and Gadfly (note: each of those links to a clip I shot last night), where the band members also all seemed to be mostly under 30 (Never Plenty might have been the relative seniors on the bill, though I would guess even Night Court have a few years on them; I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of them were in their 40s, and one of them DID have a bit of an "encroaching on Ned Flanders" vibe, to be honest).

Thinking he might be interested, I even shot Pete an email before the show, apropos of our conversation: "Want to come out to a great show of youthful local music?" But, like, his back was sore, I think he said? 

I mean, so was mine, but I still took shrooms and danced my ass off, for a few songs, anyways. I probably stood out, but my back is LESS SORE NOW, Pete! And hell, I wasn't even the oldest person at the show! (Art Perry said hello: he's a big fan of Computer, turns out, who were by far the most avant-garde band on the bill; I thought of them as akin to Norway's Supersilent, but in a much more ROCK way, and enjoyed the more abstract moments of their jamming quite a bit, but they seemed to work best when I was seated with my eyes closed, hence the relative lack of imagery -- that's them above). 

Someone who has been around the block a few times might have been a bit surprised at how able and tight and experienced the musicians yesterday were; it was a highly professional and smoothly-run gig, with about the only weird note being that never once did I see someone manning the merch table. I know from past experience that Gadfly don't make shirts in my size (yes, I am not only old, but fat), but I still would have confirmed it, had someone been there to ask.  

Anyhoo, you can click the clips above to check out the music, or go here, here, here, and here for the bands' respective bandcamp and Instagram pages, given in the order I saw them in last night (Gadfly, who has a new album, Sura, were actually the headliners, and performing in two-piece form). 

First up were Cryptyds; note that the song I posted is maybe a bit more Southern-fried boogie rock than their norm, which tends to a classic garage punk sound, like they could break credibly into "Psychotic Reaction" at any point, or perhaps "Pushin' Too Hard" (I think the DJ before they took the stage actually played some Seeds, or maybe that was Yardbirds?). It was actually my second time seeing Cryptyds (and it's now my second time writing about them; looks like I made note of the "punk rock demographic divide" in that previous blogpost, too). Great band, in any event! 

Then came Computer (see above), then Never Plenty: I snapped a photo of their guitarist with his ample effects board. 

The Never Plenty song I shot and posted (see above) was one of their more abstract, in fact (I actually shot a couple of clips of them but that one will suffice for now; you might notice my camera wanders a fair bit for that, but, like, I really was on shrooms, folks). They rocked quite hard on some tunes, and had maybe the most enjoyable physical dynamic of the night. 

Truth is, having never seen them before, I fell especially in love with Never Plenty. Maybe it's just that I was peaking (I danced hardest for them) but they were really, really great: crazy-good guitar solos, lots of energy and texture, and songs that I can't even begin to place in a genre box. I found myself wondering if they were into Manchester bands, if that helps, which was validated when the bassist said something about Charlatans, in the course of mentioning a liquid visuals guy who apparently died (Bill Ham, maybe? I can't find an obit for him and I didn't hear the name the bassist said). "Is this kind of like Primal Scream?" I wondered. But I barely know my Primal Scream -- my reference points in music are actually earlier than that!  

The most startling moment of the night came for me when I turned around during the Never Plenty set -- I'd been dancing right up at the front, where there was a fair bit of space -- and realized, holy shit, there's quite a moshpit going! So for awhile I had my back to the band, checking that out. I'd have snapped more photos, but there were tons of cute girls in their 20s and, seriously, you don't want people to think you're a perv. 

Some of them were real cute, tho'.  

But even if Never Plenty were my "big discovery" last night, there's no disrespect intended to the mighty Gadfly, interviewed by me here, and a band I will see again. They still carried off being tough and compelling and energizing in the absence of a bassist, last night, though Homa could probably have gotten deeper into soloing if there'd been a third member!). She reminds me a bit of Marissa of Screaming Females -- tough, hard-edged guitar, muscular as any dude's. There was a time when I think even Patti Smith was wont to observe that rock and roll is a boy's club, but people like Homa make it seem like those days are over and done with... 

All told, a terrific Thursday night out. Big congratulations go out to I Am the Eggplant, the promoters last night: it's a great idea, having an affordable weeknight gig at the Pearl with four bands with that much energy (it was a bit weird that tickets were actually cheaper at the door than I believe they were online, but I haven't paid that little money -- fifteen bucks!!! -- for that much fun in quite a while. I'm not factoring in my trip to Zoomers down the street in the cost, mind you!). 

And the Pearl was a great place for a gig like last night's -- they'd probably want a fuller house for a weekend show, but for a Thursday, it was perfect. Hard to believe that I've been seeing bands in that venue, under one name or the other, for 20 years now: I saw Bison there, Mission of Burma, DOA, and probably other bands back when it was called the Plaza. I think that might even have been where I saw Star Wars theatrically back in 1977 (or maybe it was Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger? I had gotten my Dad to take me to see that, and then he surprised me by taking me across the street to the other, which might have been at the Capitol 6).  

(Yes, folks, that's how old *I* am: I saw the first Star Wars movie when it was first-run: "Did I ever tell you about the time..."). 

The end result is, I'll be paying attention to the I Am the Eggplant Facebook page to see what other bills they assemble, because (trust me, Pete) there's some terrific rock is coming out of Vancouver's youthful punk scene. I urge my readers OF ALL AGES to check it out: it's worth the price of feeling old and mortal, and maybe you'll feel less old/ mortal afterwards! 

It's worth a shot, anyhow... 

*Pete points out that, "What I really asked you was 'Is there a local "scene" of young bands, and do they have, like a club or two they hang out at?' We had The Brickyard and The Cruel Elephant. All the local bands knew each other and basically went to shows every weekend. We had a glorious youth and a great local scene. It sounds like the local scene is thriving...great reporting." Check out this amazing footage of Pete's mid-1990s band The Sweaters, live at the Horseshoe Tavern. They would have fit right in on the bill last night!

A Hopeless Romantic: the Black Halos in Montecristo and more

Billy Hopeless in an Eating Miss Campbell t-shirt at the Cottage Deli (RIP)

Truth is, there is a point beyond which you kinda have to stop interviewing someone. From David M. to Joe Keithley, from Red Herring to China Syndrome, there are bands that I have written about a half-dozen times or more, whose music I still enjoy and will still see live, but barring some huge news, new angle, or the promise of a payday, it's hard to write fresh sentences or come up with new insights about someone after about article five. Billy Hopeless is getting there -- I've interviewed him three times, I think, for the Straight, and twice for Ox Fanzine, and I wasn't actually planning on doing another Black Halos feature for this upcoming show... 

...but then circumstances conspired to sit me at a table with Billy and Blag Dahlia, arguing about the relative merits of the Dead Boys' second album (which, by the by, I agree with Billy about: I love We Have Come for Your Children almost as much as Young, Loud and Snotty), with Philly Roach also in attendance and Cat Ashbee and Bob Hanham at our table. All very interesting people! So the circumstances were too entertaining to pass up, and my editors at Montecristo agreed with me, so here we go... 

There was one fun thing that couldn't quite be squeezed into the story, relating to Philly's opening set, where he covered Warren Zevon's "Carmelita," also done by his band. Surely this is one of the only songs in history to be sung by both Linda Ronstadt and GG Allin? It's also sung by a character, briefly, in Wim Wenders' superbly cynical film about Hollywood, The State of Things, which, weirdly, is how I first encountered it (I was into Wenders before I was into Warren Zevon, to say nothing of GG Allin).  

Cat and Bob, with Blag onstage, also by me

Anyhow, Zevon, in the original album version, sings a line about how he sold his Smith-Corona (a typewriter) and went to meet his man. There is also an alternate lyric in a demo version, which was used by both Ronstadt and Allin, about how he sold his "Smith and Wesson." That fits nicely with the allusions to Russian roulette, later -- playing solitaire with his pearl-handled deck -- but as a writer, I always rather favoured the idea of the singer selling his typewriter -- the equivalent of a musician pawning his instrument; it resonates more deeply. But the Campfire Shitkickers, in their recording of the song, which rewrites it to be DTES "day in the life of Mr. Chi Pig," sing about  “selling my shit and my guitars,” which also fits... 

Philly by me, at LanaLou's. The heck is Thick Glizzy?

...except it turns out that for live shows, Philly has a totally different lyric there -- which I may have mentioned somewhere already, but would have probably worked into the Montecristo article, too, if it weren't such a digression (I was actually surprised that Philly made it in there at all!). That variant, which Philly sang that afternoon at LanaLou's, is, “I sold all my art to Chris Walter/ and I went to meet my man,” referring to Chi’s main source of income in his last years, selling paintings to the SNFU band biographer and punk memoirist, who used his social media connections to sell it online on Chi's behalf. Much of the money Chi got from the deal no doubt went to drugs and alcohol, which some people have criticized Chris for, but anyone who paid Chi money for anything ever -- including any support he got from the government, we might add -- no doubt helped support his substance consumption. That includes me: the last time I saw Chi, I ended up buying him a drink, at his demand, as "payment" for his having signed some records -- which sat really ill with me; I should have seen it coming and had some other plan in mind. Turns out the cost of getting three SNFU albums signed and doodled on was a Jagermeister, I think missing a specific mixer Chi favoured? Bob happened to have catch the moment before Chi turned hostile, telling me I could burn the album covers if I wasn't going to buy him a drink... he had a little meltdown in Pub 340 until I gave up: Okay, Chi, I'll buy you a drink, it's okay...

Anyhow, Philly left the line about Chris out of the recording, so as not to seem to be slagging anyone: “It’s not a slag, it’s just what happened,” he explained that day at LanaLou's. Someone hearing the song out of context might not understand that, and you can't always be around to explain your songs to people. I was hopeful enough that I'd be able to squeeze the story into the piece that I actually cleared it with Chris Walter himself, explaining the context over Facebook, but he has a pretty thick skin: “I’m not offended,” he responded. “Chi sold his art to whoever he could.” (And he also sorely needed income, which I'm sure he also spent on other things like food...). 

Kinda sad that that was my last encounter with Chi, but I didn't feel close enough to him to want to visit him in the hospital. I gathered from Chris that Chi was fond of soft cheeses, and had thought I might bring him a selection, as a peace gesture, but... I never did. I try to remember him more with a favourite moment from a previous visit to Pub 340, where Chi was holding court, and poked fun at my patterned shirt as I passed ("Nice blouse! Reminds me of my grandmother's tablecloth." I still like that shirt, and in fact have worn it in his honour occasionally, but I could instantly see what he meant -- it does kind of have an old-person's-tablecloth vibe).  

Anyhow, go read my new Billy Hopeless story in Montecristo, or post the hyperlink somewhere so other people can read it: 

https://montecristomagazine.com/arts/vancouver-punks-black-halos-billy-hopeless-reissuing-early-albums

Also  not in that article: I'm real glad the Bad Beats have been added to the bill -- my last attempt to see them didn't pan out, and they actually have some history with Hopeless, too! And are a great band in their own right (my old feature with them here). 

(Oh: and re: fact-checking -- it comes up in the article -- it turns out Billy was right about that dog-free "Son of Sam" remix, as he's happily now pointed out to me on social media. The irony is, the version he's talking about was on an album I picked up for him on a trip to the Full Bug, formerly in Duncan!). 

Event link for Saturday's show here. Wait a sec... it says the Halos formed in 1994? THIS IS THEIR 30TH ANNIVERSARY AND I DIDN'T HYPE THAT ANGLE? Gahhh!