Death Sentence and the Ripcordz

Syd Savage front and centre for the Ripcordz

I don't feel like I was able to give the Ripcordz a fair shake last night. The sound was pretty rough at Funky's, with the guitar and especially the vocals somewhat buried; couldn't hear a word Paul sang, though I enjoyed his between-song patter and liked the vibe of the guy (anyone who titles an album
More Songs You'll Never Find On Spotify Because Fuck Those Guys is all right with me). 

And rough live mix or not, the band still got an energetic, positive pit going -- a fun pit to watch, and occasionally I pointed my phone at it when shooting vid. They played with enthusiasm and commitment and tho', yeah, it's one old guy and two young'uns, the bassist sure had charisma and fun tattoos! If I weren't stone broke, I'd actually think about goin' to see them again tonight at Bully's, where I think maybe the sound will be better. 

Truth is, though, Death Sentence kinda stole the show, at least for me; I knew the songs -- especially the killer delivery of "In Flames" -- so the sound quality wasn't so much of an issue, especially where two chugging, driving guitars were the main feature. I have seen the band about five times before, each time in a different configuration, so that helps... Actually, if I've seen them play with more fire than last night, I don't remember it; it would have been in the days of Pete Cleaver, if so, but that was a long time ago. Syd is in great form, really commanded the band (he had seemed a bit tentative, the first-gig-back, with "Betty Machete" in the Pete-role, but he's definitely the bandleader now). 

Shot some vid of that, too, but not "In Flames." That I wanted to dance for (but I avoided the pit, kinda tucked myself in between the stage and a pillar. I don't like bein' collided into!

Funky's toilet was also amazing. Best punk rock toilet in Vancouver? I posted about that on one of wendy's DOOR GAL DIARIES threads, which are always a fun augmentation of shows she's at. Someone named Travis Green had commented about the puke in the sink during the Funky's glory days, when wendy was booking the space (I suspect a lot of the graffiti is a leftover from those days). I replied that in fact, there was puke in the sink right then, as well. The rest of that exchange went like this: 

Travis: like for fuck sakes, there is a toilet right behind you! Why the sink?

Me: I would have to look in the toilet to answer that question.

Travis: oh for fuck sakes, Noooo!

Actually THAT INTERACTION was probably the high point of the night, but "In Flames" rocked, too. 

I'm actually still feeling swamped with gigs and writing-pressure and financial pressure and so forth, so I'm trying NOT to write about everything I see... but it's difficult. I also won't BE at Bully's. I have other commitments. But y'all should go. Especially if you live in New West! Bully's has done substantial remodeling, has a huge wide stage now, and I suspect the sound will be wayyyy better. You can walk there from Columbia Station, too! 

I, Braineater, the Scammers, and the Repossessors: photographic evidence and notes

I had never really watched the development of a major Jim Cummins live painting before. I've seen photos of them in action -- including a classic Bev photo of Cummins doing a painting behind the K-Tels with Wimpy and Jello visible in the pit. And I watched one Bowie Ball portrait being done. But it was nothing on the huge canvas that Jim was working behind the merch table at LanaLou's this past Friday, when I, Braineater headlined a gig with the Repossessors and the Scammers. 

It was interesting to watch him work, to check in on the painting -- a tapestry of the cartoonish damned -- over the course of the evening, in-between trips to the bar or the bathroom: how he did a fast sketch of the entire foreground, working left to right, then worked right to left doing a second pass, adding details, adding background faces, adding shadow and detail. The initial pass was crude and cartoonish, but very expressive and free. Things got more vivid each time I went by... 

These three detail shots were about half an hour in-between. I'm used to seeing Cummins' work quite worked-on, glossy and polished and "finished," but was surprised how much I found myself gravitating towards his "sketch." It got cooler by the hour. I don't know if the finished work is actually finished, but it's really delightful. Maybe it will be on display at his next home gallery show, August 16th? 

Of course, there were also the opening bands to enjoy: the Scammers were a trio of South Korean street punks who were so enjoyable they merit their own article, which I will link here when it's up. I'd see them again in a minute! They did originals and covers ranging from the Varukers to Rux and Crying Nut. I shot a clip of their last two songs here, but it doesn't capture the hints of reggae or rockabilly that crept into their music. Everybody I talked to was pleasantly delighted. The photos here are mine, but Art Perry was there, too, if anyone is looking for professional-level images...

Then the Repossessors -- who I was surprised to learn are a two-piece -- took the stage. Aaron Brown and Dave Bowes could be heard to joke that it was a hell of a name for a band to take in a live music context, suggesting guys from Long and McQuade showing up to confiscate your amp. The singer's Repo Man shirt was fitting and fun to see -- wonder where he got it? They did a few flavours of punk, and even a cover of Link Wray's "Rumble." Then near the end of their set, after a brief bass-drum snafu, they launched into the most hardcore song of the night, called "Hardcore." Talesha had been up front dancing and was quickly shunted to the side by the Koreans and their entourage. Exuberant moshpits are not usually a feature of the LanaLou's experience, so that was real fun to see. Talesha observed later that it was "rude" to suddenly have her territory taken over but she still thought the Scammers were excellent, when they weren't colliding into her. I documented the whole episode here. 

By the time I, Braineater took the stage, I was satiated and aware that my wife hasn't been sleeping well; I wanted to get home by 12:30, which meant sneaking out around 11:45... which I did. But -- peering over Talesha's shoulder -- I shot my favourite new Braineater song before I went: "Bunny." I've seen I, Braineater more in the last year than in the course of some 40 years prior. It's interesting to realize that -- since I have no memory at all of the Bags of Dirt, which makes me think I may have missed them -- Jim is quite possibly the first punk performer I ever saw, back when he opened (along with Bill of Rights and House of Commons) for the Dead Kennedys on the Fall of Canada tour, October 20th, 1984. 

We talk about that time in the issue of Big Takeover I mentioned in the previous post (now with added Art Bergmann). Alas, I won't be able to be at Jim's space on the 16th -- I'm booked up! -- but if you haven't done a Braineater show, he's an integral part of Vancouver's musical history. (He'll also be sharing a bill with JOHN OTWAY next March, when Otway returns to Vancouver! More to come on that). 

Now I better get my Scammers feature squared away... someone book that band again soon! 

I, Braineater tonight at LanaLou's - plus the Mt. Lehman Grease Band backstory and more

Myself, Chris Crud, and Jim Cummins by Cat Ashbee; we're talking about Bev's photos of Chris onstage with Braineater, previously discussed here

Now with ADDED ART BERGMANN comment (after Jim's story)

So if I had to list a top-10 favourite local punk albums -- the ones most important to me -- well, it would probably take a couple hours sorting out the last six of them. But four albums would come easily, without the slightest hestitation: Incorrect Thoughts, Something Better Change, the Vancouver Complication... and I Here, Where You! by I, Braineater -- his first full length in 1983. I found that in the mid-1980s in a Value Village in Maple Ridge (it was already hard to find at places like Collector's RPM). You can hear the whole album here (probably without Jim's involvement or blessing). It's not really a full-band experience, and not really close to what I, Braineater sounds like lately (which is closer to the garage-punk of Artist, Poet, Thief -- which is a fun album, but sounds more like a band; I love the "basement weirdo" quality of the earlier album, which sounds like a work sprung from deep in the brain of an isolated eccentric in the process of self-invention). 

I got to interview Jim Cummins about the early years of Braineater for Big Takeover #96, which is still on a few Chapters stands now. Everyone, I think, ended up happy with the piece. I was a bit bummed that they didn't run anything from Cat Ashbee's visit to Jim's house for his last art show -- she got some great shots -- but it's hard to complain when the competition was photos by Bev of the days when Art Bergmann, Buck Cherry, Dave Gregg and Ian Tiles were in the band, or actual images of Jim's art. It's actually a really good read -- one of the best Vancouver stories I've done, up there with my Art Bergmann and John Armstrong interviews, over the last few issues...

But there were outtakes, and this is one. I, Braineater plays TONIGHT at LanaLou's with the Repossessors and the Scammers. Only 20 bucks! I found an outtake from Jim's early days -- a piece of the puzzle involving the Mt. Lehmann Grease Band. 

See you tonight, Jim! 

I, Braineater 2025 (at Funkys, by me)

AM: I'm stunned to learn that you’re from Langley. I never realized. I’m from Maple Ridge! I can’t picture you in coveralls. 

JIM: During that period, I also had my first shows at the Brackendale Art Gallery [in Squamish, BC], where I built the big cement unicorn out front. And Thor Froslev had it then, and he was a great guy, who got me on board for all that; we did a number of shows there… And then another thing happened, basically when I was in high school in Langley, where I met this character named Dan Clark. He was a year older. He said, “Jim, I know this really cool bunch of guys, and they have this band called the Mount Lehman Grease Band; they were kind of like a Rolling Stones’ Beggars Banquet boogie woogie band, and all they sang was dirty blues songs: “You’re so ugly, baby/ You make the dogs all whine/ And I don’t know why they allow you on the street/ It’s cause you’re ugly, the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen/ You got a face like a monkey and sure do treat me mean!” Dan said, I can book something, and you’ve got the art, so you make the poster, we’ll get the booking and we’ll play. And down the street, a few blocks away, was a place called Fernridge Hall. So Dan gets the hall rented, I do the posters, silkscreens in the back art room of the school, with all these supplies that looked like they had been left for the last fifty years. We put them up, we do all that, and I’m not expecting too much. Dan says, “You take the money at the door.” Okay! And all of a sudden, truckloads of kids start showing up, like out of a movie scene: a one-ton truck with a big flatbed on it and thirty kids all just sitting on it, no seatbelts, no nothin’, y’know, with big gallon jugs of wine and stuff like this. And they’re coming into the place; some of them are paying – it was a dollar to see the show; and some of them are telling me to F off. And this hall was so small, and the next thing you know, we’ve got three hundred kids in there. It only held about a hundred or so! And Dan the promoter comes up and goes, “Jim, isn’t this fabulous! Look what’s happening! It’s it great! And I’m on three hits of acid!” I thought, “Oh, fuckit, I’m not doing the door anymore if you’re doing that!”

AM: Art Bergmann was on guitar?

JIM: And Dave Mitchell was the singer. Art had his brother Hans on a big old piano. And Murphy Farrell from Mud Bay Blues Band was drumming – he was 12 or 13 at the time. There was a guy named Tony on bass—I don’t remember too much about him. But they played this show. And usually, at shows out there, there would be a fight, but this show, there are 300 kids crammed into this thing and not an ounce of trouble. I guess you could call it “valley punk” – the roughest characters you ever saw, all from 15 to 21, having the greatest time. And they brought in this big plastic garbage container and everybody started pouring in all their booze and wine and what they had in their pockets, and you just get cups and drink this shit. We put on gigs like that all through halls out there when I was in high school. The last one we had was out at the Cloverdale Community Centre, 1500 kids. It was out of control, just amazing. Mitchell was an incredibly great frontman, because he was a weird combination between, basically, Groucho Marx meets Mick Jagger: bowler cap, orange, crazy big hair, torn jeans, vest and he had a cane, which he’d taunt the audience with. Boy, what a show. And Dan Clark was the person Art sang about, years later, in “The Final Cliché.”

AM: He had a boat…

JIM: And a station wagon, which was my 1954 Chevy Station Wagon, which I’d sold to him, which he used for that [his suicide]. Which was sad. Dan had had a lot of problems for a long time. When I first met him, he had no fear “cut-off button,” y’know? A wild man. I loved him, love him to this day, he was a great guy, always inspiring. But yeah, so… then Dave Mitchell goes to university, and Art decides to reform the Grease Band, but the name he wants now, is the Shmorgs. I remember they did a gig out in Aldergrove or Chilliwack, a big arena like we’d had in Cloverdale, where we’d had 1500 kids, type of thing. 20 kids. Nobody. Could never get an audience. There were maybe a couple of shows out in Cloverdale where friends showed up that were a bit better but basically nobody came to see them.

By this time, I’d dropped out of the Brackendale hippie scene, because there was no action there; everybody had gotten long in the tooth. I came to Vancouver and got a little apartment there. And I didn’t really get to go to a real live punk gig/ party thing until Buck Cherry moves into town. He moves down the street, and… it’s a long story, but Buck shows up at my place, and he’s got a bottle of rum, and he goes, “I know where a punk party is! Let’s drink this and go!” So off we went to that and had a great time, met Randy Rampage… That became my inspiration to start painting these big hyper-realistic paintings of punks and stuff like this. And Buck and me got an apartment in the basement of the Manhattan next to the boiler room. Thank God the Freddy Krueger movies weren’t out yet. We couldn’t have handled it – it was literally desperate living. And Buck’s working on his band stuff, going to form the Modernettes, and he says, “Jim, you’ve helped me out so much, you’ve been a great friend; I’m going to help your band out too.” And he says, “What are you going to call it?” Well, I was thinking about the character [Screaming] Lord Sutch, from England, but I didn’t know much about him. In those days you didn’t know much about anything, really. And I said, “I was thinking of calling it Monsuxx.” And he just looks at me deadpan: “No.” [laughs]. He says, “We’re going to be the Braineaters!” “Why the Braineaters?” “Can you imagine what parents are going to think when their kids say, “We’re going to see the Braineaters?”

And Bergmann was around on crazy Farfisa organ, Dave Gregg on guitar, Ian Tiles on drums. And we had a number of shows. We got everybody banned from performing or playing at the Russian Hall for about 40 years. They didn’t start doing anything back there until maybe about ten years ago, with some burlesque show, which is kind of ironic, because I happened to bring in paintings for the show. But… we were just trying to be the most notorious, New York Dolls-type band that you’d ever heard, in a punk rock way. It was tons of fun.

ART BERGMANN RESPONDS... (copied off FB)

beg pardon ; ye mis-remember! we played many crazed shows; btw Tony Pratt was bassist;

 When we played last Shmorgs' show w @DavidMitchell at Surrey Bear Creek Pavilion the place was so full, the gang-fighting took place outside the broken doors! the gig in Abbotsford Arena was so successful, Dan Clarke had a massive wad of cash we threw  around like a football...that is about it!

   the best tho' was beating barrels in the Mt Lehman forest courtesy Skantz family

  anyway, love you Jimmy Cummins

at Surrey Bear Creek "Mitzo" pretended to die; and was believed!

Tonight at LanaLou's!

PS Jim has a show August 16th!

Overextended!

So here's the thing, folks...

I'm broke! Not in any way that I haven't been broke before -- it's not an emergency or anything. But I splooged bigtime during the folk fest (signed records! food trucks!), dug a hole, and now...

...I have a few big-ticket shows to see in August and September, a roadtrip, and a birthday for my wife... and no big paydays are scheduled... any income in August and prolly September is SPOKEN FOR. As of now.

Plus I haven't bought tickets for a few shows yet that I definitely want to see... I ain't even factoring those in yet.

And typically, I am also over-extended in terms of my writing. I have made promises to people, have a couple big projects to clear, and NO TIME AT ALL for extra considerations. There are some articles I am just shifting to the back burner for now until I've cleared some space... stuff that interests me ("The Secret History of the Secret V's," now there's an article I'd like to do!) but that's just gonna have to wait. 

If I've already said yes, I'll do something... I'll do something. If I've made commitments, I'm committed (financial or writing-wise).

But if y'all are wanting me to do something I have not agreed to already, this is not the time.

I'm doing okay, actually -- been enjoying the summer. Need to get some swimming in. Need to get some dancin' shoes (I wore the others out). And if I don't have another commitment, I might try to catch Asian Persuasion All-Stars on Sunday at the Powell Street Festival (I can scrape up the cash for some food truck food). 

I'm only just wading through my to-do list, though, and man is it packed... would be a great time for a windfall to fall on me... but also seems like a great time to curl up with a book. Been re-reading Crichton's Jurassic Park, that's a real good read. It's kind of nice to subtract the Hollywood dumb-down element from things... read the story as written for grown-ups... it's still very similar but a lot more corporate intrigue, a lot more "chaos." It's a good read... 

...maybe I'll get back to it...

Darkish night of the soul

Having one of those nights where I find myself wide awake at 4am, wondering if I know what the hell I'm doing (which of course means I don't). Am I doing everything wrong? Am I following a principle, Doing the Work, or just running from self-realization and accountability? How long can I keep on running this way? Distraction, denial, lack of control... working hard for no money... spending what money I get at a feverish rate... being very generous with others with my time and effort almost as an apology for coming in so far below what my own standards for myself should be (if I had any)... putting a ton of time and energy into stuff that might ultimately not matter very much, that amounts to entertainment... neglecting things that do matter to fill my life with things that maybe don't... stuff I could do better... places in my life where I could have more control... choices I continue to make, that make no sense, because I feel like I'm stubbornly following some sort of thread, while other aspects of my life flail out of control...

And weirdly, tonight, Lemmy keeps coming up, as my case in point for how I don't really know what the hell I'm doing. How, the first time I spoke with him, I was terrified, but asked really kind of important and brave questions and came up with a hell of an interview, but how the second time, backstage at the Vogue, in person, I kind of blew it, kinda ran from the challenge. Questions I coulda shoulda woulda asked. How I shoulda gotten him to sign more records, rather than signing copies of a page of a rock mag with an article I'd done, to give to my friends... I coulda had my whole Motorhead collection signed.... he was game... I only kept one thing he signed for me. I think even he was a bit disappointed, after our pretty-great first interview, that I couldn't (or didn't) bring it, the second time... but you sit in a room three feet from Lemmy and make your brain work... the real anomaly is that the first time had gone so well... I lived up to my potential by accident, almost, that time... not control... I got lucky... I played past the fear, instead of letting it push me along...

Usually in the past, on dark nights of the soul, it's more important stuff that comes to mind. I pore over things I could have done better or differently with my parents, friends, finances, etc; times I lost control, didn't do what I should have, did or said things I still regret, or made choices that in retrospect seem grubby or embarrassing... second-guessing the last couple weeks of my Mom's life, for example, how if I'd done X, Y, and Z differently she might have made it out of the hospital... like, if the minute they revealed she had had a heart episode, I'd involved a cardiologist, we might have discovered that her bypass grafts were failing... I think each subsequent episode was a graft blowing... but by the time three of them had failed, it was too late... that's what I think was happening, anyhow. There were ways the hospital fucked us over, too, which played a role in it, stuff I couldn't have known, stuff that went on without them telling me... a lesser man would have sued or something... but so might a better man... but I hadn't made all the right choices either, so how to hold them accountable...? It would just have been displacing the blame I felt for myself... and/or trying to cash in...

Or, like, there was an inheritance that we got where we coulda bought a house, but instead we just used the money on life... I could have a house now... that's a favourite regret for darkish nights like this... shoulda coulda woulda...

Somehow tonight, it's Lemmy that I'm poring over. Like that matters. And why even think about dead people at all, you know, when there are living ones I could be doing better with?

Or, like, with my writing... my Youtube channel... I could be monetizing things... could find a way to set and meet a higher standard... do something as a source of income... I don't like the idea of ads. I don't like the idea of Patreon or so forth. 20 years of blogging for free... most of my writing is done for free... But I do, in fact, want and need money in my life... I should figure out how to do X so I can do Y and end up at Z, rather than muddling along, doing it wrong... seize the things I'm doing right... I don't slouch on housework, there's that... I keep myself entertained... I'm pretty good at my dayjob (sometimes)... uh...

Erika's up with a bad gut. Me I've got a bad brain. Will splooging this onto my blog help me put it to sleep?

I guess I should feed the cat first. Anyhow...

Gordon Grdina Trio live at Hero's Welcome: whoa

That was an amazing night. 

It's interesting how much skronkier -- freer, noisier -- Gordon Grdina gets on guitar than on oud. There were some real freakouts on the guitar, lots of shrapnel in his playing -- jagged and explosive passages -- but the oud must not lend itself to that kind of thing, because every single line had a melodic thread, a tunefulness: you could grab onto the tail and be pulled through, so to speak, whereas on guitar, Grdina flings you all over the feckin' place, takes you on a much more raucous ("rock-us") ride (also sometimes quite tunefully, including a very recognizable reading of "Hey, Joe," but there were also some near-Borbetomagus-levels of freedom when he was on guitar, if you see what I mean). I assume he came to the oud by way of guitar; I'd love to ask more about his relationship to both of those instruments -- if he feels he has more right to take more liberties with the one, or if, like, "oud-skronk" is somehow less desirable, less interesting, less pleasing? 

I remember Todd of the Winks going on mandolin-skronk voyages, often around covers of Sonic Youth's "I Love Her All the Time," and in terms of shape mandolins kinda remind me of teeny ouds, but... hell, I dunno. Been a long time since I've seen Todd on mandolin. Something to ask about, anyway.   

And an amazing night. Shot vid of three of the songs -- one from the first set on oud, a longer piece that opened the second set on guitar, and then, near the end of the night, I saw that a seat at the opposite corner was free, and so I quickly jotted across the room to get a different angle, because I'm shooting a weird number of things over Gord's shoulder lately (see also here). 

I did make one discovery about Hero's Welcome that I feel I must warn readers about: from where I was seated for the majority of the night, over my left shoulder, there was a framed uniform that must have belonged to a member of a military band or something, because it had ambitions to play along. Every time, in the first few songs, Tommy Babin hit certain notes -- higher ones, weirdly; you'd figure it would be the lower ones -- it would rattle and buzz in a most unwelcome way, kind of like having a hornet stuck in my left ear: "now with added percussion!" Grdina himself noticed it (he shot the uniform a nasty glance; it's level of musicianship was NOT adequate) and directed the sound guy over to do something about it, and it was very interesting that the sound guy DID manage to adjust the levels so the vibrations weren't as bad, but when Babin took a bass solo later in the night, it was still an unwelcome accompanist. I could lessen the buzz a bit by pressing my arm against it, but that got hard on my shoulder. So there's a helpful tip: when seeing shows at Hero's Welcome, beware that uniform! (Or sit somewhere else?).

Y'can see my handprint

And jeez, Kenton Loewen is real enjoyable -- best drummer I've heard in the Vancouver jazz scene (sorry, Dylan!) (though Al Wiertz was pretty amazing, too). Remember seeing Kenton 15 years ago in Vancouver with Eugene Chadbourne and Darren Williams -- think I caught him a few times with Doc Chad, actually (I did blog about those shows a bit and there is some footage of Chadbourne-Williams-Loewen at the Kozmic Zoo, which show I was also at... but it's not good footage, alas). Gonna see him again tonight with JP Carter and Haram's Emad Armoush on Granville Island... haven't been to Zameen before... doesn't look like they have food...

Most fun discovery of the night, though, was actually a different unit that Grdina has played with, because it connects with my time in Japan, when I was keen to explore avant garde music. Tim Reinert of Infidels thinks of me as a "rock guy," which I guess is true of late -- but there was a time, after Nevermind wrecked punk, back when Zorn was at his peak, where avant- was a prefix to almost everything I was listening to, and that overlapped with my time in Japan (1999-2002). Having noted that Michiyo Yagi was on the Tzadik label, I went to see a show of hers while I was there, doing avant-koto stuff (Ayuo was also on the bill, and maybe Yoshihide Otomo? I saw him a couple of times in Japan, as well as Keiji Haino and Ruins-Hatoba -- Tatsuya Yoshida with Omoide Hatoba, basically). I don't really remember it that well but I certainly enjoyed it at the time! Later, when I was volunteering here with Vancouver New Music, while I was more enthusiastic about Phil Minton (whom I interviewed) and Paul Dutton, I chatted with Koichi Makigami and enjoyed a few weird bursts of vocal improv that he did in the lobby of the Scotiabank Dance Centre, between performances (I didn't actually get to see his set but I enjoyed my interactions with him and bought a CD). 

Anyhow, imagine my surprise that Grdina has recorded both with Yagi and Makigami, in Kichijoji, a cool little western offshoot of Tokyo (where I saw those Keiji Haino and Ruins-Hatoba shows). Weirdly, Byron Coley's notes mention FUCKING NANAIMO, too (if I'm reading him right it's because that's where the label is based; I mighta said on Facebook that the album was recorded in Nanaimo, but that is wrong). It's pretty cool to be discovering this just a couple weeks after getting the "Seven Potatoes" album with Damo Suzuki doing his thing in Nanaimo, confirming my suspicions that the East Van of Vancouver Island is Nanaimo, musically speaking (and maybe in other ways too). I listened to about half an hour of this via Bandcamp on the ride home (and scored the vinyl off the Hero's Welcome merch table). Goddamn amazing stuff. 

I'm *never* gonna get to listen to this when my wife's home, you know? I don't think even the cat will dig it. 

Folk Fest 2025: Day 3, plus Trooper Fest, Day 3: I am my new hero!

Les Mamans Du Congo X Robin. All photos by me, not to be reused without permission

See my Youtube channel for abundant clips! 

I am my new hero. I began my concert experiences today at 10am at the folk fest. I finished them at 10pm at Trooper Fest 3, dancing enthusiastically to Rong. I was engaged in the pursuit of live music for over 12 hours solid today, logging in over 20,000 steps (probably at least 5,000 of which were dancing), and spending on the weekend upwards of $1000 on music and folk-fest related stuff ($20 for a water bottle? It's going to a good cause!). And that's with a media pass! 

I feel I have done music justice this weekend. And yet still I write.

Samantha Parton

Understand, from the outset today, I was still feeling exhausted, sunburnt, and slightly wonky-gutted from the day before. I was also awakened by the kitten after five hours sleep -- he is up at dawn and meowing, every morning, even after you feed him; I tried to go back to bed and he came to pounce on my guts, so I gave up... I then spent the next three or so hours writing, then woke Erika and we got on with getting ready, ultimately arriving at the Folk Festival at just after 10am. We set up at the South Stage gospel tent, and then I rushed over to the East Stage to see Sam Parton and Paul Pigat.

I really like Sam. She told me a story, a bit later, when signing a record, involving Peter Buck, who she shared a bill with the night of the Minus 5 gig, which was where I met her. I wish I could repeat the story -- it involves a gift I gave Sam that evening, that Peter was, uh, skeptical about. I can say no more, but it made me think Peter is probably a pretty decent guy (and made me wonder again about how badly burned he may have been in the music biz over the years). 

Sam signs a record, plus Kellie Loder and friend, background

She and I laughed about it a bit backstage, anyhow, and it gave her something cryptic to sign on my record (Sorry, whoever-you-are; you will not find the answer here [the question being, "Cookies?").  

Oh, I shook hands with Elizabeth May, who was saying hello to... who is that? Lennie Gallant? I have no idea. Again, this was a bit later (I asked her if she minded my paparazzi-ing her and she did not). 

Note: Jake Xerxes Fussell, who I shot here, has a song about ducks. Well, with ducks in the title, anyhow. It's an instrumental. 

Sharon Steele would see the duck and shoot vid of me with it. It came when she quacked. Someone else took the duck's photo, and Sharon remarked, "That duck's famous," referring, I think, to my earlier blogpost. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself, because Sam was on the east stage two sets in a row, the latter in a workshop with Fussell -- who did a touching song called "Jubilee," I think, which I shot a clip of -- and Kellie Loder, who did a great queer anthem about wanting to wear a suit when you're expected to wear a dress (shades of "Black Tie" by Grace Petrie, which I first heard last folk fest). I did not shoot that, but I enjoyed it, and had cause to reflect that I had joked with Petrie about having given Ferron albums to lesbians in the festival two years in a row (Petrie, last year, and Amythyst Kiah, the year prior), telling her I was going to make it a tradition! If a visiting lesbian played, I would get them Ferron!  

But, sorry, Kellie, I did not have a Ferron album up my sleeve for you today. I didn't know your music before today! If you are reading this, and don't know Ferron, and WANT to -- out and queer in Vancouver in the 1980s and still active today -- consider this my raincheque.  

...But you probably know her, anyhow (Grace and Amythyst didn't). 

Best food truck experience, 2025

Where was I? Ah, yes. Having enjoyed Sam's first set, I raced back to the gospel tent, where my wife and I were seated too far away for me to get any meaningfully good shots. I did, however, get to snap a few candids while I was autograph-whoring (successfully).

Who said there's no Hope for me?

I must say, though I did not catch the whole set -- also taking in a bit of Emily Wurramara on the West Stage, when I went on a toilet run -- I was most impressed, of the songs I heard, by Rich Hope doing "Gotta Serve Somebody." Regardless of it being from his Christian period, I think forced to pick a favourite Dylan album of the 1970s, I'd go with Slow Train Coming -- which I realize would be a contentious choice for most people. Desire is also awesome, but uneven. I certainly love Slow Train much more than Blood on the Tracks, though I concede that that is objectively probably the better album (I think I like Street Legal better than that one, too, and maybe Planet Waves). 

Y'know Mark Knopfler is on guitar on Slow Train Coming, right? Seriously, if you've missed that album...

Random musician not playing but attending #1: Sinead X Sanders!

Random musician not playing but attending #2: Katie Ormiston (of Pawnshop Diamond) 

Anyhow: Rich told me later that it was his wife that suggested that Dylan song (which Hope connected to Trump in the states, but I missed the intro. I gather it was potent, however). I don't know Rich's wife, but my compliments and thanks. More people should do Christian Dylan at the Gospel Tent -- it seems under-mined and rich. (Saved is good too, but less for songs, more for the energy of it). 

Rich also did the slightly more obvious "Further Along," which I also enjoyed, though much less; still, that is a gospel standard that has NOT worn thin for me, unlike, say, "Amazing Grace" and "This Little Light of Mine," which are just too overdone, bordering on "Kumbayah" territory: not at all inspired or exciting, from a music-snob POV.

But that's me. I was much, much more impressed (and I told her so later) with Meredith Moon doing "Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)". Do you know the story behind that song? I only learned it recently myself -- there's a whole Wikipedia page on it (you can also hear Woody sing it here). 32 people died in a plane wreck; 28 of them were Mexican migrant farm workers, and four of them white folks in the crew. The four white folks were memorialized by name in the news while the remaining 28 were listed just as "deportees." This is why the song makes a point of naming people:

Goodbye to my Juan, farewell Roselita
Adios mes amigos, Jesus e Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees

The brilliance of Moon including it on the gospel stage is that not only is it politically relevant, obviously, but it is also completely 100% lacking overt Christian content, while nonetheless being deeply, on the best possible level, Christian in its message -- a message that Jesus Christ himself, champion of the poor and downtrodden and confronter of hypocrisy and moral mediocrity, would clearly endorse 100%. 

Oasis of Song workshop: Gordon Grdina's Haram, Les Mamans du Congo X Rrobin, Bab L'Bluz and the African Chamber Music Ensemble: how many musicians can fit on one stage? (And which band is Peggy Lee in, anyhow?)

The other great politcally-relevant tune of the day, at least with lyrics that I could understand, came as a tweener, when Willi Carslisle did a Steve Goodman song called "The Ballad of Penny Evans." I didn't know that one -- an anti-Vietnam war song told from the POV of a war widow. He also did the only accordion song I heard this year, a cover of "Beeswing," which I much prefer on guitar, I must admit. Erika and I have seen both Grace Petrie and Richard Thompson himself do it this past year. It was okay, if not particularly suited to the instrument, though he did quip, memorably, that the squeezebox is the perfect instrument for the global socialist revolution, because you play both ends against the middle and don't care how many people hate it (ha!). He did an original in there, too, "Critterland." I liked that better, but didn't shoot it! 

Of course, there may have been political content in Les Mamans du Congo x Rrobin sets I saw, too, but I didn't understand any of the lyrics, so... I've gone ahead and posted clips; see here and here. I hope no one gets in trouble -- there seemed a clear anti-war theme to some of the "theatre" of their dance performance. 

Mostly I just danced myself. 

Emily Wurramara

There was lots I took in. Sometimes it was entirely on the fly: I'd take a trip to the port-o-potties or water refill station and take a minute to go see what's going on at the next stage over. Sometimes the high points weren't even musical. In some ways, the sweetest moment of the gig was when a shy woman named Betsy came over, seeing that I was waiting at the South Stage backstage for artists to emerge, and asked me if I would give the female artists lavender wands she had made with lavender from her garden. One went to Meredith Moon, another to her trombonist Charlotte, one went to Ruthie Foster, and then... I had two left over. Since Rich Hope's wife had made such a wicked choice, suggesting that Dylan, I gave one to Rich to give to her, and then I gave the last one to Fiona Black, with thanks: "I don't know if Betsy knows who you are but if she does, she'd want you to have one."  

You can see the wand I gave Ruthie, below. 

Most of the high points were, of course, musical, though. Derek Gripper did trance-inducing, beautiful, but strangely abstract guitar; I have not had anyone bring both Steve Reich and John Fahey to mind at the same time. I was pleased to see Gord and members of Haram checking him out.

Blue Moon Marquee were energetic and expressive and their swingin' five-piece incarnation was much more exciting than their two-piece tweener on Friday (which hadn't won either my wife or I; Sunday changed that). 

I only caught a bit of their set, but the Langan Band had great chemistry and such enthusiasm for playing, I mistook them for being Irish (they're Scottish!). The strangest moment was when the double bassist was suddenly raptured up to heaven, mid set (I jest): 

There was exactly one band that didn't raise my enthusiasm above the meh level -- though I couldn't really hear their lyrics, which might have changed anything. We left shortly after Ruthie Foster did "That's Alright Mama," taking it "back to the blues," she said, except the song, if I recall, was every bit as rockin' a rock tune when Arthur Big Boy Crudup did it as when Elvis did; the bluesy elements that Foster added were all her own.

It was awesome. My cellphone was kaput, by that point, and we did not complete that set, but only because we were absolutely satiated and exhausted (and I had a punk show to get to). Ruthie won us, rest assured. We're fans. We've got her new, Grammy-winning record, too (signed!). 

But the absolute peak of the weekend was Les Mamans du Congo. I actually don't want to post video of them at the moment until I know how they feel about it, but if you're looking for something amazing, go see them at Butchart Gardens on the 23rd. Or at Salmon Arm on the 25th. Or Calgary on the 26th. Dance, costume, theatre, and music unlike anything I have heard, that was nonetheless utterly engaging and danceable... I danced harder to them than I did to Rong doing "Run With Us," at the end of my adventures yesterday. That's sayin' something. 

As far as I know, Les Mamans du Congo x Rrobin will not be at this festival in North Vancouver on the 27th, but then... who will be? There is no indication, but it's free! 

Having bailed on both the Zawose Queens (one bit of performance with Elisapie aside), and missed Bab L'Bluz entirely, I was very glad to engage so thoroughly with Les Mamans Du Congo x Rrobin. 

I was writing previously about needing a thread to follow into music. I have not always found myself with a thread when it comes for music from Africa. Even the music of a great like Fela Kuti has long passages that don't move me much. But I would have bought Les Mamans Du Congo records in a heartbeat, if they had any. They were amazing. Seriously, if you can see one of their shows, do.

I have not posted that much about vendors this year, but I want to shout out to this friendly guy from Rudi Organics, which was the clothing vendor who most caught Erika's eye. 

Buying my wife a shawl (the one the Rudi guy is folding)

Haram, of course, were also terrific. That I did shoot some video of, which Gordon has blessed my posting -- slightly weird that I could only shoot from behind for this (the front was packed) but it pays off once Grdina starts conducting the audience...! Again, watching his hand gestures, conducting, I was reminded of John Zorn, but while Zorn looks aloof-and-in-his head, Grdina is also doing stuff like getting people to CLAP ALONG. There was no clapping to Electric Masada, as I recall. I think I gotta say it: Grdina>Zorn, at least in terms of the sheer pleasure I took from seeing Haram live. 

Then I went to that punk show, bought a Rong shirt, and came very close to moshing. Noelle had an All Cats Are Beautiful t-shirt, with Trooper's image on it. I'm not sure if she realized that that was MY JOKE on Facebook, in writing about Trooper, but I was flattered beyond words (it's an alternative to the more usual meaning of ACAB). She's doing another run of shirts, if you missed it (find her on FB as "Noelle McKee"). 

I want a Trooper ACAB t-shirt so bad. (No, no, not the band Trooper. The cat. See here. 3xl, Noelle, please!). 

Oh, and I shot one video of Rong; rather than competing with moshers, I went behind Byron's kit and did one song, shooting the band from behind. I swear that it wasn't until later that I realized, peeking at a setlist, that the song was called "Prolapse." I am very tempted to title the clip: Rong: "Prolapse" from the Rear. 

Probably a bad idea!