Hard choice tonight!

 

...me, I'm at the latter, but your call! 

Last Bus Home (for Jonny Bones) - plus Hollywood Horrorshow does Carrie, and a Major Bus Improvement to Maple Ridge

There's a new kid in town: the R3 Lougheed Hwy to Haney Place. 

Understand: during the period where I was living in Vancouver and/ or Burnaby, very single time I went out to look after my Mom (or visit both my parents, before cancer took my Dad in 2009), out in Maple Ridge, I would take the 701 bus, which is already a pretty long transit ride. And every time, I had an extra half-hour detour added that dragged me through fucking Hammond, whose Mayor or whatever, I heard once, insisted that no routes run from Maple Ridge to Coquitlam without passing through their community, because, I guess, "fuck you." Took me an hour and a half to get there, one way -- some of this taking place before there was even a Skytrain line to Coquitlam, which meant it took even longer. 

I came to resent that detour very very very fucking much. 

The addition of a direct route that avoids the Hammond digression is very, very welcome. It beelines from Coquitlam (with a couple stops) straight through to Harris road, without weaving a perilous path through the backass of milltown, and spits you out right at Harris Road. I only discovered that the line existed heading out to see The Fog at the Hollywood Horrorshow last night. And not only did I get to the movie promptly, I was able to catch the same bus home, after the movie, because it actually runs at night. You have to be out on Lougheed Highway, opposite the Hollywood 3 Mall, by 11:50 to get that bus, if you want to be able to get a Skytrain ride back. Not sure who in the community managed to get the route installed but by DAMN it is a fine idea, especially now that I have cause to be going back there again.

The next Hollywood Horrorshow is DePalma's Carrie, June 27th. Jonny reported last night that he's going to keep doing Horrorshows until he can't anymore. If you haven't been to one, I wouldn't wait to July. 

Some notes:

1. Food options are dire if you are running late, so eat before you get to Harris Road, because otherwise, there is a Pizza Pizza or a McDonalds or some other pizza joint I dunno. EVERYTHING ELSE WILL BE CLOSED. The McDonald's served me an edible but still supremely disappointing Quarter Pounder:

Next month's poster:

The short subject for the evening was a Scooby Doo cartoon, but I was out in the lobby. When we got in, the blu-ray that we were watching defaulted to having the subtitles ON, and we all whooped and cheered to watch the film being restarted without them.

The image was, admittedly, a bit on the grainy side, but when this is a film you've seen 20 or more times on VHS, that is, truly, value-added.

Jonny gave a short welcome, got huge loving cheers from the (relatively full?) house, and hung out in the lobby afterwards. He says he'll do this for as long as he can...

I am out of practice catching the last bus at night. Brings me back to the bad old days, when I actually lived in Maple Ridge. I don't go back there much these days, but for Jonny I'll make an exception. I puttered with song ideas about catching the "Last Bus Home (for Jonny Bones)," but I dunno if I'll make it happen. 

Kinda reminds me of a Bone Daddies cover:

So anyhow, there I am on the side of the road. Will the 11:55 R3 come on schedule or will I be racing to try to get a 701? The 701 leaves a bit later but you don't get into the city until after the last Skytrain is run, if you catch that. I confess to having felt a little anxious!

Shot some video of the busride. The shadows were quite compelling.

I ended up spending most of the commute talking to a girl who'd gotten kicked out of her rehab program and had her meds taken away from her, who was trying desperately to make it back to Alberta, trying to make it to the Greyhound, which they said had a bus they could catch, which was leaving in the morning. I hope they got on it! Her boyfriend, I guess, had an enormous cart of their belongings. I didn't take photos but we talked. They were having a pretty rough go of things. I also told them a bit about Jonny. "It's an intense night all-round." 

Anyhow, I made it back.  

And the kitten was very glad to see me (wife is away): 

I haven't seen Carrie in awhile. Guess I'll go. Oh, and June 20th, there's a benefit for Jonny at the Rickshaw. He won't be  singing, but he'll be playing.  

Gofundme here. 

Zappostrophe' at the Fox: No Eskimos, but Photographic Evidence and Notes

Blogger wants to upload the images below in reverse chronological order, so once we get to the images, we will actually be walking backwards through time, from when I left and thought to shoot the Marquee to before the band had even started to play. No matter. 

Some thoughts:

1. Nick, the mallet man, is (AT LEAST) every bit as good as Ruth Underwood. I love Ruth Underwood and am prejudicial to tasty malletwork (hello to Ruth, if you are reading this, and Nick too). So this is probably about the highest praise I can give the man. Is that a xylophone he's playing? I never feel confident to make such calls -- I can't tell a marimba from a glockenspiel (pretty sure they weren't vibes tho'. Anyhoo, "mallets" will suffice). It's fascinating to me to see a percussion instrument carry so much tune. Bandleader Blair -- seen below on trumpet -- even pointed to him during one song and said "Watch Nick, he's about to blow your minds," I think that was how Blair put it; but I'd been watching Nick all night already and tbh the show-offy stuff he did thereafter didn't seem that much more virtuosic than anything else he'd been playing. He's real good. (Most of the showing off seemed to involve virtuosic, or at least highly flashy, tambourine playing, actually. Never actually been impressed by someone's skill with a tambourine before!).

(Did Ruth Underwood also play tambourines?). 

2. It is an obvious though trivial pastime when watching Zappostrophe' to try to pick and choose between (briefly-Zappamask-wearing) guitar-Blair -- not to be confused with bandleader/ trumpet-Blair or the thing-Blair making a UFO in the ice-tunnel below the venue -- and Guenter (he of the long hair). Of the two, guitar-Blair seems friendlier and more playful -- he operated the rubber chicken, say (I can't bring myself to say "play") -- but Guenter (who probably merits an umlaut or something but I'm pressed for time, since I have to be at work soon), though somewhat dour of countenance, befitting his German (Austrian? Swiss?) origins perhaps, does seem to take (or be given?) the meatier solos. I actually have never paid close enough attention to Zappa to be able to tell (unless, like, I'm watching video footage) which solos were his and which were a secondary guitarist's (like, say, Steve Vai) -- like, when hearing a Zappa track with two leads, which one is Zappa? Can YOU tell? (And while we're at it, when bringing on a secondary guitarist... did Zappa pick people who were even better than he was, or, y'know, not quite as good? Could Steve Vai, say, outnoodle Zappa in a guitar-off, like, y'know, he was playing against Ralph Macchio or something, or would Zappa slay them all?). Anyhow, never mind which I like better, the question here then becomes, which of them is BEING Zappa and which of them Vai (or whomever?). My guess is, Guenter is being Zappa, but I don't know. Maybe they trade off ("Do you want to be Zappa on this one?"). Question for future interview!

3. "Inca Roads" is a damn fine Zappa tune, and One Size Fits All grows larger and larger in my estimation from seeing Zappostrophe' cover songs off it ("Sofa No. 1" and "Andy" both made appearances last night). Jeeezus, trumpet-Blair and co-vocalist LJ really had fun with the "guacamole bit," which I'm going to have to read on a lyric sheet, because WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, other than the vocal high point of the night? Even Blair laughed. Trumpet-Blair, I mean.  

...but (sorry) we must presume to quibble with trumpet-Blair -- are they really called called crop circles in Chariots of the Gods, or are you thinking of the Nazca lines, which were not done in crops (aside: I wonder if people in Peru who use and/or manufacture cocaine ever make Nazca jokes? Like, maybe they draw a monkey in cocaine on a mirror: "Wanna do a real Nazca line?"). The modern resurgence of crop circles didn't start until the 1970s, though they do date back to the 17th century apparently (I looked it up). Maybe they were inspired by von Daniken (Chariots was from 1968). Have any of you Zappostrophe' people actually read that book? I have not. I will defer to you if I must, but question #2 (or is it #3?) for a future interview is hereby noted.

Did the Inca really have roads?

4. HOWEVER -- and here we get to the crux of the biscuit -- these "oofo"-related quibbles -- which I may be wrong about -- are nothing compared to the (admittedly somewhat bemused) SCANDAL that shot through me to hear "Eskimo" changed to "land of snow" in "Don't Eat the Yellow Snow" ("I dreamed I came from the land of snow": WHAT?). Though I do understand the political issue at hand and realize that the band may not be all on the same page on such issues -- and that Zappa does have some problematic songs, which you can't even BEGIN to play live these days -- I half-expected, when I heard that, for the wrathful ghost of Frank Zappa himself to rise from the stage and shoot lightning from his eyes, slaying the band en masse for presuming to sanitize his lyric. I would like to point out that the entire lyrics of the song revolve around a character named Nanook, and that the lyric, dog-doo snow cones et alia, AS A WHOLE is not, exactly, a sensitive and respectful representation of northern indigeneity, so changing one word dunnint (sic) help very much; that b) Inuit musicians who were contemporaries of Zappa, like, say, Willie Thrasher, use the word "Eskimo" in their lyrics and CONTINUE TO DO SO (I have interviewed Willie, seen him thrice, and was actually now RECOGNIZED by him when I showed up in the audience in that clip, which blew me away, but I don't have his email address or such, or I'd ask him to weigh in here); c) that we all realize that these are not your lyrics and will not necessarily hold you accountable for them; d)  that it is unlikely that any Inuit were around to be offended last night, which means this is all about maintaining social status among fellow white liberals, many of whom (I raise my hand) would probably forgive you... You also are not obliged to SING songs that have offensive content, y'know? I think I'd prolly just leave those out -- play them or not but DO NOT PRESUME TO CENSOR THEM.  

On the other hand, I do not mind creative engagement with the Zappa catalogue. Zappostrophe' also added lyrics to "Black Napkins," threw in a Rocky-and-Bullwinkle reference (?!). and wrote totally new words for "Let's Make the Water Turn Black," which was weird, but I wasn't able to follow them well enough to take umbrage -- I was definitely curious what they were singin' about! (Eugene Chadbourne when he covered that changed some words too but I think just because he had forgotten the original lyrics. I think "numies" became "boogers" in his version, if memory serves). There was some built-in reference to offensive content in Zappa's lyrics in their rendition of "Let's Make...," too, but it was pleasingly goofy, and at least seemed more creative in intent than, uh, "censorious," while being also more puzzling, since what the heck is offensive about "Let's Make the Water Turn Black?" (granted, I am not sure what "numies" are or what "pooting" is. How will I be saved? Wait, that's the wrong band).  

Anyhow, I dunno about the revisionist streak that manifested itself onstage at the Fox last night (the band is apparently not all on the same page about doo-wop, either, from what t-Blair said: there was less of it this time than at the previous Fox show, just a medley of "Dog Breath in the Year of the Plague," "Cheap Thrills," and "Dirty Love," with only the middle song seeming truly full-on doo-wop. There mighta been one other thrown in there but Blair did say something about having cut back on the doo-wop to mollify an anti-doo-wop contingent in the band. Whatevs! I can take or leave that stuff, and already was generously treated to a much fuller doo-wop set the last time I saw them at the Fox, but I was glad they did "Dog Breath" though, no less). 

5. Scott of Big Top was in the crowd. I miss Big Top. I want Scott to come back. There was also a guy who ran a record store in New West (who'd had a stroke, so he couldn't remember the NAME of the store!) who told us how he had met Zappa and got his signature on a record (!!!) (but he couldn't remember the name of the record either; strokes suck). Which reminds me, Erik Iversen and son were in the house, and hearing that story. I gave Erik a book and, speaking of strokes, got a photo of a musician who I will be writing about NEXT week (can ya guess WHO?). 

I din't recognize anyone else. 

6. Hey, if this band got a violin player, they could tackle Hot Rats (nice used copy of that for a decent price at Carson Books and Records, by the way -- not in the main bins, but with the new arrivals. It's an OG with the gatefold but not the blue Bizarre label, I checked. They have 200 Motels and... there was one other. Bunch of used Zappa came into Beat Street, too; I snagged vinyl of The Grand Wazoo there before the show and if I'd been able to stay to the very end, I might have bugged the band to "sign my Wazoo," mostly for the pleasure of saying those words. I don't know if they'd actually deface a real Zappa record for me, though). In any event, there remain vast Zappafrank worlds (and asteroids) for them to conquer  -- classical compositions, say, or stuff from Zappa's later years, or from Freak Out, or....  Meantime, I'm very curious to see what they're going to do with the video footage they shot last night! 

7. ...Tho', coming back to the issue of tweaking lyrics -- and speaking of worlds to conquer -- I'd like to challenge the censorious streak in the band to write lyrics for "Bobby Brown Goes Down" that are not homophobic, a version of "Suicide Chump" that is sensitive to people having a mental health crisis, a pro-union "Flakes," a body-positive "Big Leg Emma" and a non-misogynist "Easy Meat," for starters. I don't think you can fix them by subbing out one word, but whatta I know?    

(Or else mebbe just don't play Zappa songs that you have to change the words for. Frank would not approve: this is the MODERN PMRC you are catering to, folks, and we know how Frank felt about THEM.) 

Still, wow, great night! They have t-shirts now. I bought one. I'd see them again, in the land of snow or not.  

Jonny Bones, cancer, and John Carpenter's The Fog

Jonny Bones with the Still Spirits

The Vancouver music scene is reeling to learn that Jonny Bones -- Jon Aaron, of the Bone Daddies, the Still Spirits, Rad Radio, and long-time host and organizer of the Hollywood Horrorshow out in Pitt Meadows -- has an aggressive stage-4 cancer that started in his vocal cords and has spread to his lungs and elsewhere. He talks about it himself here; there's a GoFundMe here. I know firsthand how terrifying cancer can be, and  he's got it way way worse than I ever did -- from what I'm gathering, it's bad enough that he may not even bother with treatment (it would only buy him time -- and not much, and it would come at a cost, since chemo is a miserable experience unto itself). Jon has done soooo much for his community, and he's such a vibrant fella, full of exuberance and wit, that this is a real blow, a real injustice -- it's a good thing I don't believe in God, because I'd be pretty pissed off at Him! But Bones seems determined to keep the show going on for as long as he can....

...Which we have the opportunity to participate in this Friday, when he hosts the 45th anniversary screening of The Fog out at the Hollywood 3 in Pitt Meadows!

Bones admits that he does not have "anything particularly profound to say about The Fog" -- he just likes it, and hasn't played it before, and it's a chance to do an anniversary screening of it. His own all-time favourite Carpenter is problably In the Mouth of Madness, for "that blend of Lovecraft and King mixed with tinges of cosmic horror and madness," which hits "just the right spot of strange that I love." (Of course he and I agree that The Thing is a phenomenal film -- it's almost like you have to frame the question that way: "What's your favourite Carpenter after The Thing?"). I'm also a fan of In the Mouth of Madness, mind you, but allow me to argue for The Fog in Jonny's place -- because it's a Carpenter that is near and dear to me, being the first John Carpenter movie I saw, probably with my Dad, when I was a mere 12 years old, back in 1980, when it was fresh in the theatres, and it remains one of my favourite of Carpenter's films -- one of his moodier, creepier, most visually appealing, and more thought-provoking works. 

The film has tons of good things going for it, including one of Carpenter's best scores; it's gorgeously shot by Dean Cundey; it has a great role for Hal Holbrook (who didn't do much horror, but is in one of my all-time favourite Canadian outdoor ordeal horror movie, Rituals, second only to Clearcut); it also has a host of Carpenter regulars like Tom Atkins, George Buck Flower, and Charles Cyphers -- to say nothing of a cameo from Carpenter himself, and a lead role for his then-wife, Adrienne Barbeau, making her big-screen debut. There's also a rare chance to see Jamie Lee Curtis acting in the same movie with her Mom, Janet Leigh (of Psycho shower-scene fame!).

But what really makes the film interesting and satisfying is the subtext. On the surface, it's a pretty silly, straightforward thing -- a movie about a town, Antonio Bay, that is the target of the vengeance of a group of, uh, pirate-like ghost lepers (if a ghost can have leprosy) who were, years ago, betrayed by the town's fathers and robbed of their riches, which they were intending to use to found a leper colony on the coast. Holbrook's role is small but central: he plays an alcoholic priest who discovers a book that reveals, on the anniversary of Antonio Bay's founding, the dread truth of his forbears' crimes, and realizes that the town DESERVES the vengeance that is being wrought upon them; he has to summon the courage to confront the fact that the stories he has been told all his life are all lies, and in fact, the place where he lives was born of MURDER and DECEIT. 

Remind you of anything? Maybe of how, as Peter Rugh writes, "We committed a genocide not so long ago that we tend to overlook in favor of neatly rhyming nursery narratives about how 'Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492'”...? Even though the lepers are, we presume, as white as anyone in the film, The Fog is on some level a white-guilt horror movie, about what to do with the knowledge that your history is steeped in blood. 

So that's one good way to appreciate Jonny's craft, coming up on Friday; if you've never seen him host a horror movie, you might not have that many more chances! But there is also a plan afoot for a benefit concert on Friday, June 20th at the Rickshaw (yep, the date of Dan Scum's return with Powerclown, which I already have a ticket for -- I might have to zip back and forth between venues for this one). We'll have more on that closer to the date: Jon is still finalizing the lineup, he says, but adds that "Still Spirits will likely be playing our final gig there (or at least the likely the last one with me in the line up, but if I know those boys they likely won't go on without me around... I do book everything after all)." 

Jonny says that any financial support is welcome and appreciated but adds that "I mostly just care that people come and watch the movie, or come to hear the music, that's the important part. The money is just, well... Money." (I'm going to give him a wad of cash regardless, and maybe a couple of horror movies to boot). He's said that no one will be turned away from the Rickshaw show for lack of funds. That's the kind of guy he is.

By the way, anyone planning to drive from Vancouver to Pitt Meadows for The Fog who wants company in the car and some gas money, feel free to find me on Facebook. Otherwise, I'll see you at the Hollywood 3 Pitt Meadows this Friday night for John Carpenter's The Fog, as hosted by Jonny Bones... 

Thor: Rock the Universe review, plus Guilty Pleasures Be Damned!

I remember reading a respected film critic -- either Robin Wood or Jonathan Rosenbaum -- taking issue with the idea of the guilty pleasure. If something has value, the critic argued, there should be no guilt in consuming it. If something does not have value -- if you truly know better than to fall for it; if it is somehow contemptible, reactionary, or otherwise toxic -- then it should not be consumed. "Guilty pleasure" to said critic was a form of tolerated hypocrisy, something that one should strive to eliminate, in order to ideologically evolve or cleanse oneself or something (this feels more like something Robin Wood would say, really, but I'm simply not sure). 

While that's an interesting point of view, I have, I admit, plenty of things I would class as guilty pleasures -- often stuff that I find cheesy or obvious or of little true cultural or spiritual merit, but which I still enjoy on some base level, sometimes in spades, and which I am in no regard prepared to denounce. Some of these are dietary (what are potato chips if not a guilty pleasure?). Some of them are cinematic (I take no particular pride in enjoying the killer shark movie, Deep Blue Sea, but it didn't stop me from upgrading to blu-ray the other week). I don't feel all that embarrassed, in fact, that along with Tarkovsky and Bergman and Cassavetes and Kiarostami and Pasolini, I have space on my shelves for MCU movies or Die Hard or two different movies called Rampage, one starring Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and the other directed by Uwe Boll (I'll let you decide which I should feel guiltier about). Maybe it's because movies have more than one aspect to them, invite thought on more than one level -- even the cheesiest of b-movies can be subject to analysis, and even if the analysis can be reduced to, "this is ideological bunkum," it is still educational and valuable to see how that bunkum has been assembled, how it works, how it tries to appeal to the viewer's emotions or prejudices; that critical engagement can become part of the pleasure of the film, too...

Rock'n roll is a bit simpler than that, which maybe is why I have so many more things I would describe as "guilty pleasures" in my record collection. Yes, folks: between my Melodic Energy Commission and Meat Puppets records, there is a copy of Bat Out of Hell. My present collection contains not one but TWO Loverboy albums. From AC/DC to ZZ Top, there are dozens of albums in my collection that a music snob might guffaw at, a state borne maybe of a particular aspect of radio: because when you're in a car, and it's not bluetooth enabled, or doesn't have a CD player, if you want music, radio is it. And if you're listening to the radio, the choices of station can be pretty dire, unless you're lucky enough to get a good signal from CiTR or Co-Op. Which means, especially for a person of my generation, you end up on a lot of classic rock stations, hearing songs drawn from a limited pool, played so often that you end up with a relationship with them, regardless of whether you like them or not, and even if you'd never buy the record they're on. A song like "Mama Let Him Play" by Jerry Doucette is a fine case in point. Hell, I hear that often enough just being AROUND -- because it ticks a Cancon box -- that I would NEVER buy the record it's on, no matter how many thrift stores I find it in; I can get all I need of it from just ambient exposure. But it's actually a great, fun, rockin' song, a perfectly acceptable exemplar of its type, and I'd take it over anything by Max Webster (except "Battle Scar") or April Wine or the BTO (unless you count the John Otway cover of "You Ain't Seen Nothin Yet," which you don't, but note: we may see another Otway show herein 2026, folks... you have time to do your homework!). Hell, I would argue it beats anything by Bad Company, Foghat, Foreigner, or almost any of those bombastic 70s American rock dinosaurs, too -- it has some spirit to it. If Erika and I are driving up-island with The Q! on, and Jerry Doucette comes on, I'm sure not going to ask her to change the station (nor will she want to, I don't think; I would imagine she has some fondness for the song too).  

Thor's new album, Rock the Universe, has covers of a few such guilty pleasures, including, indeed, "Mama Let Him Play," which Thor and Frank Soda (also on the album!) did at the Robert Dayton booklaunch the other day (I videotaped a minute of that here). I am genuinely grateful to now have that song represented on record SOMEWHERE on my shelves -- never gonna have to get the Doucette version NOW. They also did "Action," which kicks off side one; anything by (the?) Sweet counts as a guilty pleasure, by me, as it's almost pure potato chip, if you see what I mean, all crunch and mouthfeel and carb-high but close to zero nutritional value. Even "Love Me Two Times" has guilt associated with whatever pleasure I take from it, because I recognize it objectively as one of the very least of the Doors tracks -- some Doors stuff I actually like and have around in some form or other, but -- sorry, Robby, they weren't written by you! It's still enjoyable enough that I wouldn't turn it off if it came on, but TBH -- I'd say Thor's version may actually be the superior one here, has a bit more bite to it, with less of that unwelcome "cabaret" element that lurks in the background of the original version... I always imagine Vegas dancers in my mind's eye, high-kicking their way through that song... I do not have that problem with Thor's version...

And of the possible guilty pleasures that Thor covers on the album, "Highway Star" is maybe the song I love most on this, one of my most pleasurable guilty pleasures of all time, which I didn't even feel that guilty about loving until an opinionated, respected  senior local punk (who I guess I will leave nameless, since he's enjoying being out of the limelight of late) went on a rant about how shallow and empty the lyrics are. I mean, I couldn't argue the point --  it IS shallow,  and that does register as I listen to it (it's no "Pictures of Home," say -- one of the more content-rich Deep Purple tunes, or at least the only one that reminds me of a passage in Nietzsche); but that guitar solo rocks. the riffing is pure propulsion, and, hey, what could be better than a song about driving fast if you're listening to it on a car radio? "Highway Star" is, like, "Sonic Reducer" for morons, but sometimes, moronic fun is what you need! And how you gonna write an intelligent song about speeding, for fucksake? 

Guilty pleasures or not, each of these songs on Thor's new album, Rock the Universe, fills me with joy -- especially because, kinda sorta, Thor is a bit of a guilty pleasure himself: he's unsubtle, a bit silly, wielding his Thor-hammer and singing catchy glam-rock-cum-hair-metal while sincerely invoking the powers of rock. He doesn't appear to have great ironic distance from this material, but how could you, and still be, like, Thor? There is no ironic distance in muscle rock. You cannot ironically explode a hot water bottle with your lungs. You cannot ironically bend metal bars. You're going to do it, or you're going to fail, but there is no way to do it and be above it at the same time.  

So if you were going to pick a Vancouver musician to cover a song like "Highway Star," THOR IS IT. He's perfectly suited to all these songs, in fine voice (and Frank Soda plays the solo for "Highway Star" with the utmost reverence, a note-for-note rip-through -- tho' it's on the Muddy Waters tune, later on side 2, where he really starts takin' no prisoners). 

Not all of the album counts as a guilty pleasure, mind you. I have no guilt at all about liking Eric Burdon's "Sky Pilot" or the Yardbirds' "Heart Full of Soul" or the Beatles' "Back in the USSR." I also don't especially need to hear them covered, but Thor does the songs no violence, and "Heart Full of Soul" in particular works very well for what it is. There is also one perfect deep dive that befits Thor's reputation as a bit of an eccentric: "I'm Not Like Everybody Else," originally done by the Kinks, which doesn't really require that much re-working to become Thor-worthy; the original was already more muscular than your average Kinks song, and while Thor does ADD some muscle to it -- how could he not, being Thor? -- it's still remarkably faithful and effective.   

There are some songs I like better than others, mind you. Side one of the record is the side I will tend to gravitate to, because I don't really care one way or another about Ronnie Montrose's "Rock the Nation," James Taylor's "Steamroller Blues," or Muddy Waters' "I'm Ready" (with the aforementioned killer Soda solo) -- not because they're bad songs, but because I don't know or have an investment in the original. "Steamroller Blues," in fact, we gather was originally intended as a parody of cheesy 70s blues, which maybe is not something that comes across in Thor's delivery (the only parodic element is  that it is being done by Thor at all; I am sure James Taylor would wince at the thought, if he was really trying to make fun of hyperbolic blues-rock, which is how the song here presents). But you know what, I can't really hear the parody in the James Taylor version of it, either: he does "bad 70s blues bombast" so convincingly it can be mistaken for the same. Some might say that that is not the stuff of effective parody; they might have a point.  

I'd still rather hear Thor do it than James Taylor. In fact, there's not a song on the album I don't enjoy. It's at Neptoon. They might even have some signed copies kicking around? I actually went to the in-store feeling a bit sheepish to be asking Thor to sign his first record, because my copy of it was pretty beat-up -- not really signature-worthy, scrounged out of a cheap bin, mostly because I have some fondness for "Sleeping Giant." I'm pretty glad to have been able to do Thor right and get this record, and very happy that my investment has paid off. I've listened to it three times through since Saturday, which is two more times than any of the other records I bought at the launch. 

Now if someone wanted to release Thor Against the World on vinyl, I'd probably get that too...

Scott McCaughey and the Minus 5: ADVANCE WARNING!!!

(Scott's wife! Also the new Minus 5 album cover)

Heads up, folks! There is more to come, but if you haven't been paying attention, the Minus 5 is coming on June 8th. People who know me know that I'm Young Fresh Fellows freak from way back. It was actually Paul Westerberg who turned me onto them, saying in a Replacements interview circa Pleased to Meet Me that he thought that the Fellows were very much kindred spirits (maybe this was around the time the Fellows played Westerberg's wedding?). Based on his recommendation, I rushed out to buy The Men Who Loved Music, which was the Fellows' new album at the time. It's never left my collection (in some form or another). I like it easily as much as, or maybe more than, anything the Replacements ever did: it's funnier, fresher, and somehow feels more trustworthy... because while the Replacements eventually tried for the brass ring of SUCCESS, the Fellows never did (least not so's anyone noticed. I forgot to ask Scott if they ever actually got a beer sponsorship! I am assuming that that song was just a joke, but who knows -- turns out kids really did bring zucchinis, that time, so...). And they somehow never CAUGHT ON like the Replacements did, which may be why I'm writing about them like you didn't already know about 'em...

But whether or not you did, the Minus 5 is a Young Fresh Fellows side project that (Fellows freak though I may be) I have paid all too little attention to over the years, that we ALL HERE NEED TO KNOW ABOUT, because they're coming REAL SOON. This is an opportunity not be squandered. This is the band, of course, of Fellows' frontmen/ founder Scott McCaughey (pronounced like Bones' name in Star Trek) and his fellow Fellow Kurt Bloch, but also boasts REM's Peter Buck (on bass?!). The current touring lineup also involves Linda Pitmon (the Baseball Project, another Scott side-project) and Debbi Peterson (of the Bangles!). There is an awesome explainer about the band here (thanks to Tim Chan for pointing this one out)!

And the thing is, their new album -- whatever you might think of the Fellows' output -- is TERRIFIC. Nevermind the Fellows! The Minus 5 doesn't really sound like them at all, these days. Toxic Youth, the newest of the Fellows albums I've heard -- they have a new limited edition thing called Loft, as well -- seems kinda, I dunno, dour for a YFF record; it has rocking riffs, and I'm sure it will grow on me, but it has far less of the playfulness and exuberance that are the band's hallmarks (not putting it down, but "Get Out of My Cave" would not have fit on this record, if you see what I mean). Oar On, Penelope!, by comparison, is VERY playful, VERY exuberant -- and also very weird! (Here's the video for the opening track -- what a way to kick off a record!). 

Scott and I did just talk, at some length, on topics from Homer to Phil Ochs, but DON'T WAIT FOR MY ARTICLE TO COME OUT, because I gotta write a Gnash Rambler/ Huskee Dude thing first. If you haven't gotten your tickets to the Minus 5 Biltmore show, do so while you can, because you'll be kicking yourself if you figure out how great this new album is AFTER the show, y'know?

I didn't even mention their work with Alejandro Escovedo, Robyn Hitchcock, or that guy from Wilco! Nor did I rave about the No Ones (they do one of their songs!). Or that Samantha Parton of the Be Good Tanyas is opening!! This is going to be the show of the summer, methinks. At least until Neil Young gets here.

He better not cancel again! 

Tickets here! Trust me!

Robert Dayton Cold Glitter booklaunch: photographic evidence!

Now with ADDED GRAHAM PEAT AND NARDWUAR! Not sure who took this:

See previous articles here and here. Cast of characters includes: 

1. Danielle and David M., Richard Chapman

2., 3. Robert Dayton and David M. 

4. and many others: L to R David, Ben Frith, Rob Frith, Thor, Robert Dayton, Frank Soda, guy taking selfie whose name I should know but...

And that covers most of the rest, except there is also Art Perry, Nardwuar, Stephen Hamm, Drew Arnott, and finally Hamm and myself. 

All the above photos, in random order, from tonight's launch taken by ME, Allan MacInnis, except the top one, which I got off Graham. Did Hamm take that? Who knows. Video evidence exists as well but we will see what happens with it. Canned Hamm did a set!

These two photos below taken by Graham Peat! More evidence that I am not Stephen Hamm. Also: see Art Perry's photos here. They're way better than mine!