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!