More on Scarface, plus a dream

I had to revisit it again to find out how I felt about it, but Scarface - which screened last night at the Vancity Theatre - may well be the greatest picture ever made about the American dream: about the psychotic zeal and aggression required to succeed, about the people most likely to buy into it, and about the ultimate hollowness and ugliness of "success" once you get to the top.

I was ambivalent about watching the film again, having seen Tony Montana transformed into a sort of hero by a hip hop culture that apparently misunderstands that Montana's tale is a cautionary one. I didn't know what sort of audience it would draw, how they would behave; indeed, at least one person laughed inappropriately and loudly throughout the film yesterday, so it was a reasonable concern. I also know there are people out there who still accuse De Palma of "wallowing" in ugliness in this film. I think he does anything but; it's as quintessentially American a movie as Citizen Kane - and a much, much more enjoyable film to watch, by me. Might be De Palma's masterpiece. It screens again July 29th at the Rio Theatre.

Meantime, I had an odd dream last night that actually relates to my classic "recurring dream" structure, in which I am lost in an unfamiliar place, trying to find someone for whom I am responsible, who is in great danger. In the typical pattern, I keep getting distracted - either by other requests for help or by the appearance of a record or bookstore or such. It always ends in despair: not only can I not find out where this person is, but I can barely keep the goal of my initial quest in my head. I wake up in failure every time. Last  night, it was a bit of a different story: I was leaving a late meeting at the ESL school where I've been once again working (as in reality), trying to get to a Kid Congo Powers concert somewhere in Vancouver. On the way, I have a brief detour at a magazine stand, chatting with the owner, finding a copy of the new issue of Big Takeover which (once again, as in reality) has the first part of my big Kid Congo interview in it. I get on a bus, but the address - 3835 Scotia, which appears to be, in reality, somewhere in the vicinity of Kingsgate Mall - is unfamiliar to me; the bus driver doesn't know where it is; a young passenger who I ask just teases my befuddlement; and my cellphone proves no help, no matter what I do. I'm on the bus heading past the Burrard Inlet towards Port Moody, frustrated and lost, and it's getting on 11:30; I've been looking for the venue since 10pm, and surely at this point the concert is almost over? Around this time in the dream, I give an enormous, sputtering, multi-tiered fart onto the thigh of the kid who had mocked me - him yelling in disgust at me, me feeling satisfied at my revenge. It was loud enough and long enough that when I woke up beside Erika, still sleep-fogged, one of my first questions was, "did I just give a really long, loud fart?"

Never found Kid Congo, never got him the magazine. It kind of interests me how the dream changes elements of the classic pattern I experience. It's the first time in recent memory - in years, really - since I've had a dream with this structure, at least so that I can recall it. But here, no one is in danger, and the idea of "responsibility," of having to rescue a fragile person who depends upon me - has been greatly diminished. I'm just a guy trying to bring a magazine to a rock concert, and my failure is of no great consequence.

It's a little depressing, actually. 

Tickled: WTF? Plus the gayness of wrestling

 I used to wrestle in high school, a little. I sucked at most sports - and in fact lost out the one fight in the one inter-school wrestling tournament I attended, to someone stronger and more aggressive than me, because wrestling a total stranger was too disconcerting (and because he was a better wrestler, of course). But among my classmates, among people I knew and had relationships with, I felt comfortable letting my aggression out, and it was really, really fun to try and pin them, or to refuse to be pinned myself. These guys could kick my ass in soccer, kick my ass in football, kick my ass in any ball sport, where for most of my years in high school I was reconciled to being the guy who got picked last (or second last) to be on the team - a regular humiliating ritual that I bet some idiot thought would motivate unfit kids to get stronger, but in fact just sent the message to us that we were unwanted and unworthy (I wonder if they still do that in high school?). But get me on the wrestling mat and something happened. Part of it was the release of aggression, part of it was being able to use my size to my advantage, and part of it was being able to show these guys that I wasn't such a wimp after all - but - I remember thinking this while ON the mat, my mouth pressed into some dude's armpit as we rolled about - part of it also may have been sublimated sexuality. It was very, very physical - flesh to flesh, grunting, straining, bodies twined around each other, pushing into each other, working...  Since I retained my virginity well into my 20's, this was as close to sex as I got. No doubt a lot of the guys on the team were in the same position. So maybe there was something just a little bit gay about wrestling? Just a little...?

Tickled, opening this week at the Vancity Theatre - website and trailer here - deals with a New Zealand journalist, who happens to be gay, who enters a very strange, dark, and initially hilarious-seeming rabbithole when he begins investigating the world of Competitive Endurance Tickling. The trailer has a very, very funny line in it, where - shocked at the rather homophobic-seeming response to his query to the organization behind the sport - he quips (over images of muscular young men being tickled) that he finds their reaction funny, because there's something quite gay about the whole idea. I've seen the trailer twice now, going to Brian De Palma films at the Vancity Theatre, and both times, the trailer itself has drawn laughs at this moment; but it also promises entry into a very dark and disturbing world, where fit young men are drawn into this odd new sport and then - or so it is said - are strongly discouraged to leave (one of the quotes from the press shown on screen says how no one is laughing by the time Tickled is over). The film looks like Michael-Moore-ish guerrilla journalism tactics were employed, looks like the tickling people were pretty hostile to being filmed; apparently there have been odd legal repercussions, too, people trying to stop the film from being shown.

Suddenly I'm fascinated, and must know more.  There are three more screenings at the Vancity. I must go to one. Even overheard some guys at Videomatica yesterday saying that there have apparently been incidents of "tickle people" showing up at theatres trying to disrupt screenings... Part of me wonders if there's an element of hoax in all this - I didn't believe the whole Catfish thing, for instance, thought that particular documentary was fake through and through - but I don't mind: I have to check this film out. 

Dave Alvin and Phil Alvin and the Guilty Ones (with Cousin Harley): a Full Meal Musical Deal, July 14, 2016

Wow, last night was amazing. Paul Pigat's band Cousin Harley tore it up, and there was one of those weird moments of musical serendipity where I kept thinking how cool it would be if they did Johnny Horton's "I'm Coming Home," right up until the point where they actually did it. I take no credit (it's not like I was calling out for it, plus it's on their new album, The Dutch Sessions, too, and is apparently a staple of their live set, though I knew none of that). It was a treat no less, since it's one of my favourite Johnny Horton songs, trumping his cheesier historically-themed hits by far (now that I'm allegedly a grownup I like Johnny Horton a lot better when he's singing about honky tonks and women than going to Alaska, fighting in New Orleans, or sinking the Bismark). Pigat also covered a Ray Condo tune, inviting the audience to cheer Condo's name, and getting far too small a reply, the insufficiency of which he remarked upon (Note, Paul: I was the guy cheering late, because, sorry, I was kissing my girlfriend when you asked us how many of us knew Condo's music, and missed the cue; you're right, more people should have applauded). I can see why the Reverend Horton Heat loves this guy, and why Petunia got him on board for a recent album. I could also see that it would take a very, very confident band to invite anyone THIS good to open for them.

Cousin Harley by Erika Lax

Sad that the venue was half-empty for Cousin Harley's set! A lot of people seemed not to realize it was a bit of an early show (all was finished around 11:20, which is a very reasonable time indeed for working people). Then again, the one guy who I know didn't mean to come late was also talking about how he almost pissed in the Imperial men's room sink, mistaking it for a Glasgow-pub-styled tile piss-wall. He's got a point, actually, but if you have to catch yourself from pissing in the sink, it's no surprise you're going to come late for a show... anyhow, Cousin Harley's Keith Picot looked like a rockabilly bassist might if there were a rockabilly bassist in a David Lynch movie, was alternately ebullient and menacing as he slapped his bass with fingers as long and dextrous as Greg Cohen's. Jesse Cahill, the drummer, had a cute rockabilly haircut and sleeves full of tattoos. I feel like I've seen his name on albums by other bands I've heard but I don't know which, and I don't have a thing to say about his playing, since I wasn't exactly takin' notes; you can't be in a trio like this and NOT be great, though, so he was, obviously, great. And it turns out Pigat - the least flashy in appearance, looking like a 1950's science nerd in a short sleeved shirt and glasses - had hot lick after hot lick for us, plus he sings (which came as a surprise to me at least since the one album I've heard by Cousin Harley was instrumental). I'd see these guys again any day, and I think so would Erika.

Phil Alvin, Dave Alvin, and a Guilty One by Allan MacInnis

Dave Alvin and the Guilty Ones, meanwhile, won us all over before brother Phil even took the stage. Dave's solo during "Abilene" was one of the most moving I've heard in years - I might want to hunt down Blackjack David, the 1998 album it appears on, because it's one great piece of storytelling/ songwriting. So was "Harlan County Line," another song that came early in the set. Kickass band, including a drummer from Alvin's Guilty Women days,  Lisa Pankratz, who wore a green dress, cowboy boots and fishnets. There's an article profiling her online here, tho' I haven't read it yet... Don't recall a female drummer ('cept Stepha) who played with such passion and power. Actually, other than Stepha and Pankratz, I don't think I can recall a female drummer. (Oh, there's Yoshimi, but I barely remember her playing, been a long time since I've seen her with the Boredoms and the one time I caught OOiOO, I thought they were kinda disappointing live, actually, serving to prove mostly that most of their magic happens in studio).

Dave Alvin and the Guilty Ones with Phil Alvin, by Erika Lax

Anyhow, all of the Guilty Ones cooked - and it was nice that bassist Brad Fordham got a couple solos, and Chris Miller held his own against Dave Alvin, doing a few solos himself during the night, and taking on slide duties (he seemed a bit loud in the mix, at times, but I was standing right in front of his amp, so it might have been down to that). The treat was, of course, hearing Dave and Phil together, once Phil took the stage, about four songs in. The majority of the set consisted of Big Joe Turner and Big Bill Broonzy covers, with a few Dave Alvin originals, like his song about the death of Johnny Ace, which I'd only read about from Nick Tosches. Naively trusting, I had taken Tosches as gospel - that at the very least Ace's death was a suicide, or perhaps a possible murder, which Tosches hints at the end of Ace's chapter in the Unsung Heroes book that he can't print the truth of lest he get sued - so I assumed while he was singing it that Alvin's song, involving dark doings backstage with Big Mama Thornton and her band, was a fictional elaboration on what happened. Afterwards, reading more on it - about Ace's fondness for Russian roulette, and the presence of witnesses who saw him point the gun at his head - it makes it seem that the "elaborator" was Tosches, and that the most likely verdict was that Ace's death was a tragic accident. I guess given a choice between musicians and journalists one should trust the musicians...

There were plenty of other anecdotes in between songs, too, about the young Alvins sneaking into shows as teenagers and their love for the songs they were singing. Dave - grinning and swigging from a bottle of beer - was actually a pretty chatty guy, dedicating Oscar Brown Jrs "Mister Kicks" - the opening track on the new Alvin brothers album, Lost Time - to the guys in the alley behind the venue, and dedicating "American Music," the pre-encore closer, to a list of American musicians who died in 2016, including Lonnie Mack, Guy Clark, Prince, and, most pointedly, Merle Haggard, whose "Mama Tried" the band rendered briefly near the end of that tune. He also told the story of Phil's death-and-revival by way of an entertaining introduction to the Blasters "Marie Marie"  (other Blasters tunes included "Border Radio" and an instrumental riff on "So Long Baby Goodbye" at the very end, with Phil using harmonica instead of his voice). The two Alvins had a great deal of fun passing compliments and other adjectives describing the other back and forth during a song about people's interest in their relationship, "What's Up With Your Brother," which seems to have been written by Dave before he and Phil got back together. Dave namechecked a bunch of colourful brothers in musical history at the start of the song, but the song got me thinkin' mostly about Ray and Dave Davies, who remain unreconciled, as far as I know...

I never much thought I'd get to see the Alvin brothers together in any form, y'know? I missed a couple of Blasters shows because I didn't really want to see the Blasters without Dave. I missed a couple of Dave Alvin shows because I didn't really want to see Dave without Phil. I don't really know what kept them apart for so long, but it was kind of a dream come true to be dancing to both of them performing "Marie Marie." It was a wholly satisfying night, a full meal musical deal if there ever was one, and I'd go again to see the Alvins if I ever am lucky enough to get the chance. See if you can spot me in the pic below; I think this is from about when Dave was pointing out people in the audience, identifying them by single nouns; maybe he spotted my Flesheaters t-shirt from afar, from the recent show he did with them in Seattle, but he picked me to illustrate the word "hustlers." Clearly he knows me well.

If there was anything that posed a cause for concern during the evening, it was this: to be absolutely honest, it wasn't entirely clear how much Phil was enjoying himself up there; he's a bit stoic, a bit of a hard guy to read, and doesn't move around all that much (which might have something to do with his health issues, I don't know). He got a few laughs describing Dave as "vociferous" and "well-hatted" during "What's Up With Your Brother," and he cracked the odd grin, but didn't have a lot else to say between songs, stood pretty stiffly in fact, and sometimes his face seemed a bit strained. Maybe he was just listening hard, though? But Dave was far more visibly having a good time, cracking big grins and showin' off a bit. Still, a delight to see these two together again, and Phil did do an acoustic guitar solo of his own at one point (during a segue into "Fly Me to the Moon," of all things). Also, Phil impressively kept his long leather coat on throughout the night, in a venue that was pretty damned hot by the end of things; I wonder if Lisa has to pour sweat out of her boots at the end?

 I shot no video, sorry. I saw that other folks did but none of it's uploaded as yet. You really just should just have been there! (There weren't many people I recognized, though I think that was the Nervous Fellas Shaun Butch Murphy talking with Jon Card near the end of the night, and the Furies Taylor Little and Zulu's Grant McDonagh were both on hand). Great, great night. One more show scratched off the bucket list! Hope Dave and Phil keep working together for a long time to come...

Dave and Phil Alvin and the Guilty Ones - plus Paul Pigat, this Thursday

Haven't seen many posters around town for this, but Dave and Phil Alvin are playing at the Imperial on Thursday, and the opening band is Paul Pigat's trio, Cousin Harley. I've wanted to catch the Blasters for years, and never have; this isn't that, but it's the Alvin brothers, so I'll take it. And everyone from Petunia to the Reverend Horton Heat praises Paul Pigat, whom I've never seen live. The Imperial is a plenty nice space (if a bit expensive, boozewise!), and there are still tickets available, so I'm looking forward to it. Only misgiving is that, because it's an early show, I'll be missing De Palma's Blow Out, which I really wanted to see on the screen, but I'll have a chance to catch it on Friday, so...

Joey Only, the Jolts, and Adstock 2016

After having done a big interview with Rickshaw proprietor Mo Tarmohamed for the Straight, I missed out on Pickwick and No Sinner on Friday; a full week back at work had me exhausted, plus I'd had a long day that very day. Did get to see the Joey Only Outlaw Band there on Saturday, who were very fun! In lieu of words, I will direct you to a cellphone video that I shot (or my interview with him from a couple of weeks ago). Joey has scary eyes when he wants to - he kinda reminds me of Chris Penn at the end of Reservoir Dogs, below - but seems like a super-nice guy; looking forward to his return in October for an album release gig (which may be held up due to a typhoon in Taiwan, which amusingly enough also affected a friend of mine who has gone to teach over there). Nice to check in with Jeff Andrew at the gig, too, but he didn't really have any news... he climbed the Chief in Squamish...

Glad to have caught the Jolts in Maple Ridge at Adstock 2016. They're a great band, who I've been under-appreciating for some time (and more to come on them really soon, actually). I had a hand in suggesting them for the lineup, since I'd caught via Facebook that they were looking for different places to tour and pointed organizer Adam Rayburn at them. But I'm pressed for time, so I'm just going to direct you, again, to a video (who needs music writing, anyhow, when you can just go over to Youtube and check out bands directly?). I'm glad a few people seemed to get into it - for the first couple of songs everyone but me kinda stood back, but (as you'll see in the vid) there were at least a few enthusiastic participants, if not exactly a moshpit. Still: a great set, and the new material (especially "Best One Yet" and "Blasters") was just killer.

Also caught God Said Kill at Adstock, just prior to the Jolts. They prove decisively there's life in nu metal yet, though I gather they identify with metalcore more, or "tech death metal;" hell, I dunno, it didn't seem much like what I think of as death metal, of any sort. In fact, one of the singers had the moves and at least some of the clothes of a rapper, and wouldn't have been out of place sporting gold chains over his soccer duds (actually it looks like he is wearing chains of some sort in the pic below but I don't think it's gold. That's a band shirt he's wearing, too, styled after a sports jersey).

I thought metal was all about brutality and Satan these days (or marijuana and slow heavy blues-wanks, at the other, Sabbathy end of the spectrum), so it was a bit surprising to see this guy bouncing up and down to the music and pumping his arms and mike in the air. My first thought was something like, What is this, Limp Bizkit? But they knew how to get the energy up, and drew an enthusiastic and eager moshpit - including a kid in a Slipknot t-shirt and blue shorts who seemed the very incarnation of their fanbase, and whose enthusiasm through their set made me feel absurdly good (he was one of the three or four moshers in the Jolts clip, too). In many ways, that one kid and how much fun he had were the high point of Adstock for me this year; here's wishing him a kinder future world than I think he's gonna grow up into. And as for God Said Kill, even if their style of metal kind of surprised me, they sure can play; they sounded great, like they should have (or at least could have) been playing a stadium show instead of an open air festival in the sticks. I doubt the way the biz is these days that they'll get their due, but they deserve respect. So: respect.

The strangest bit of the weekend for me involved Space Chimp. I'd seen them on Saturday with the Joey Only Outlaw Band, with their mandolin player having his dreads tied back. "Isn't that the guy from Cornshed?" I thought, whom I always used to watch and think, "Isn't that the guy from the Dreadnoughts?" Then when I arrived at Adstock, they were onstage again, and his dreads were down, and I didn't recognize him at all. "Is this the same band I saw last night?" They sounded the same - a sort of odd cross pollination of American roots music and reggae - but they told me over at the merch table that they'd heard there are are two bands called Space Chimp, which led me to wonder if I might be seeing TWO different bands called Space Chimp, on two different nights, both with a mandolin player. No, it was the same Space Chimp all along, and mandolinist Drew Sexsmith was still Drew Sexsmith, and he was in Cornshed and IS still in the Dreadnoughts. But check this out: Cornshed had played the night before as well, and were missing both Drew and the fiddler that I'd seen at a past Adstock - Tegan Ceschi-Smith - who were the two star players, back then!

I actually had to get Drew to sort me out after their set on all the above. In fact - as was announced at the Rickshaw - Cornshed is going to change their name to reflect their very noticeably different lineup (a fourpiece with vocals and no fiddle at all). I had been excited to show my girl the Cornshed I remembered, but you can't go home again... though Drew says he and Tegan have a new project called Tunesmiths, so there's that...

Really enjoyed Devil in the Woodshack's set at the Joey Only gig, too - very high energy stuff. But it was a couple days ago and I had a couple of rye and 7's and wasn't really thinking too clearly about writing a review later so I got no intelligent things to say about their music. Good to finally have seen them, been wanting to since having written my Westender article on them...

I don't know how many more Adstocks I have in me - my connection to Maple Ridge is pretty tenuous now. But I was glad to go this time. Photo of Tegan from Adstock 2012   (I brought Mom out to that one!).

Pickwick interview, plus the Death of Sam Cooke

I didn't know a damn thing about the death of Sam Cooke until this week. I've listened to his music for years, never very devotedly - although "Sad Mood" is playing on vinyl as I type this, based on a recent record store find. He's got some very, very enjoyable songs ("Saturday Night," "Chain Gang," "Wonderful World"), but I know nothing of the man himself. I only just got motivated to read up on him when I discovered that Pickwick's "Hacienda Motel" - also a fantastic song - draws on conspiracy theories around his death, which I also knew nothing of.

The part of the story that people agree on is interesting and unusual enough as it is: that Sam Cooke took a woman to a motel; that at some point, she ran out with his clothes and all his money; that he confronted another woman, who was working the desk at the hotel, in a rage demanding to know where the woman he had been with had gone, and that, after an altercation, said hotel clerk shot him dead. Oh, and Cooke was apparently pretty much naked at the time, wearing only a jacket and one shoe; and his last words were, "You shot me, lady." That's the official story. Cooke's death was eventually ruled a justifiable homicide; people who subscribe to this view also believe he had tried to rape the woman he picked up; that she only took his clothes (and money) because she was in a rush to get out of the room, seizing the opportunity when he went to use the washroom; and that he was intoxicated or high when he burst naked in on the hotel clerk.

It's not entirely implausible, I suppose - though the detail that Cooke's money was stolen by accident kind of stretches things a bit. But there are other details that don't add up: for instance, singer Etta James, who viewed Sam's body before his funeral, apparently reported that his body was beaten far in excess of what a tussle with a female hotel clerk would likely be able to inflict. His head, for instance, was apparently nearly removed from his body (an image referenced in the Pickwick song). It seems entirely plausible that Cooke was lured to the hotel and beaten as part of a conspiracy to rob him, and that the clerk was in on it; perhaps there was a pimp or other conspirator involved. There are people who go further with their conspiracy theories, as well, implicating Allen Klein, Sam's manager, and Cooke's wife, Barbara.

I have no idea about any of that, but I can say this decisively: this is the most interesting music-related story I've encountered lately, and I might never have read about it if it hadn't been for Pickwick (who play Friday at the Rickshaw, coming up here from their home base of Seattle). The song is great even if you don't know what it's about, but definitely gets more interesting when you do. I kind of love that about songs, songs that inspire you to do research; it brought back fond memories of my fourteen year old self, poring over lyric sheets, trying to make sense of the world through music.

It's been awhile since I felt that way, so thanks, Pickwick.

Below is an email interview with Pickwick vocalist Galen Disston. See also my interview with Rickshaw proprietor Mo Tarmohamed, further below; Mo actually helped out a bit on this one, since I don't really know my Pickwick all that well, and he suggested a couple of very helpful questions.

Allan: Are you a vinyl collector? What were the first singles or albums that you bought? Was the label Pickwick important to you, or were there other reasons you chose it as your band name? 

Galen: Yes. Also watches. I can't really afford either. I have that collector's tick. The first 7" single I bought was Richard Swift's "Buildings in America". But my dad's copies of Miles Davis' In a Silent Way and Grateful Dead's American Beauty were always around growing up. My parents bought me a combo CD/ tape/ vinyl player from Amway. Anytime you buy an all-in-one anything you know the quality is "top shelf". While we were touring in support of Can't Talk Medicine I bought a "Monster Mash" 45 in Kansas. 

I've been playing under the name Pickwick since 2005 when I moved to Seattle after college. Lou Reed was a staff songwriter for Pickwick Records, and I was impressed by his strange output during his tenure there. 

Is there a lot of soul and R&B in Seattle happening at present? 

I'm not sure. I've heard of Grace Love, and she fits into that genre. But the thing I like about Seattle is people just do what they do, regardless of genre. In Pickwick we try to follow our curiosity while allowing for as much creativity as possible. That's true of most of the Seattle musicians I know. 

Were into soul and R&B  and such from the outset, as a music fan, or was that a taste you developed later?

I guess I was into R/B bands like the Animals, Stones or Spencer Davis Group first. I didn't develop the taste for soul till I heard undeniable voices like Percy Sledge, the Supremes and O.V. Wright. But that was after Pickwick had started with its R&B leanings. I knew my voice had more capability than the folky Pickwick allowed, because I would sing loud in the car driving home from work. Currently I'm enjoying 70s output from soul luminaries like Curtis Mayfield or Marvin Gaye. Their voices had reached a level by the 70s where you can't hear them working anymore. It's effortless and undeniably chill as fuck. 

Wikipedia mentions that there was a shift in your sound, after a 2008 tour of California, from folk music to the current R&B/ soul/ garage influences... what happened in California?

We played shows with friends Sandy's (San Fransisco) and Mount Holly (Los Angeles) and it scared the megachurch right outta me. I was blown away by their songwriting capabilities and intensity. I returned to Seattle determined to get in touch with whatever artistic source my friends had found. 

You mention in an interview for the Stranger that Sharon Van Etten's brother met you guys in Montreal and connected you... can you go into a bit more detail?

He was an early fan and came to our show there. When we asked her to sing on the track I think his familiarity with our band is what sealed the deal. She was very open to the song and timidly played around with it at first. It was amazing to watch her confidently interpret it by the end. I feel lucky to have witnessed that process by an artist I respect so much.  

The "Lady Luck" video is a fun little movie - as a bearded dude, I was totally identifying with the realism of bits of hair on the sink, but got taken off guard by what followed, which goes a bit further than I tend to in the shaving department. Who made it?

Tyler Kahlberg has made all our videos up to this point.

What's in the suitcase? 

The suitcase is full of gender specific restroom signs.

Besides "Lady Luck," do you do/ have you done other cover tunes in your live set?

Yeah, the Primitive's "The Ostrich", Chuck Berry's "Run Rudolph" and AC/DC's "Big Balls." [Nope, I don't know if Galen is joking either].

"Hacienda Motel" seems to subscribe to the idea that there was a conspiracy around Sam Cooke's death, but what do you believe happened? Is "the widow hides her face" line an indication that you think Barbara Cooke was complicit? How about Allen Klein?

I think Sam Cooke was becoming too powerful of a businessman. The fictional two men in the song who "hardly make a sound" are the conspirators overseeing the funeral in a silent victory lap.

Was Etta James a big influence on you? 

No, I prefer Nina Simone. 

Any singers you really admire? 

Marvin Gaye. His version of "I Heard it Through The Grapevine" is the work of a young vocal master, but "Inner City Blues" is transcendent. 

Mo at the Rickshaw was mentioning a darkness in your lyrics, including references to mental illness... he was wondering where that comes from? 

It comes from my fascination with the creation of art, and the often blurred lines of sanity present in those who create it. I've never done psychedelics, or allowed my narcissism to flare up and take over, but I tend to glamorize the possibility of crossing over into the realm of mental illness. It's probably fucking awful. I should be thankful I have a choice.

A lot of the music venues in Vancouver end up in the "bad" part of town - especially smaller, more off-the-grid ones, but also the Rickshaw and others - so there's a lot of interaction between the arts scene and the disenfranchised, and a lot of mental illness and drug addiction visible on the street just outside the venue... there are a few people who straddle both communities (Mr. Chi Pig of SNFU has had his issues with mental health, drug addiction, and homelessness, though he continues to tour and record). Is there a similar thing in Seattle - areas like East Hastings, where these worlds overlap? Does this play any part in Pickwick's history or songs? 

Our times loading in and out while in East Hastings have always been eventful: Wraiths jumping in front of our van and zombies tearing up dumpster phone books and wielding 2x4s. But Mo took me aside once before a show and assured me each of them is on an individual trip. Thanks to Vancouver's progressive safe houses for addicts, I've never felt threatened walking to the store across the street to get Canadian candy to bring home to my kids. 

Unfortunately Seattle's jungles of homelessness and addiction don't really overlap anymore with music venues. In the 11 years I've lived in Seattle the cultural trend of paving over anything unsightly yet interesting seems to be winning. Pickwick started up after Seattle's historic seediness had started to dry up, but I feel fortunate to have been able to start a band in a city that supports musicians. I hope Seattle continues to not only be a place that fosters the artists that make it interesting, but also has enough interesting stuff going on to inspire those artists. Wealthy lines of code and entitled youth ride sharing have not been sources of inspiration for me historically, but maybe I need to broaden my artistic horizons. 

 Are there new songs in the set for the show at the Rickshaw? Any word on the follow up to Can't Talk Medicine? Will it continue in the same vein as that album? 

Yes, we'll play a few new songs at the Rickshaw from our forthcoming record. We didn't limit ourselves to any genre or expectation while writing and recording, so I think people will be surprised by parts of the record.

 Any thoughts or stories on Vancouver, or other things you want to say about the gig?  

One time after we opened for the New Pornographers I had a mean lemon crepe. We look forward to coming back to Vancouver and the Rickshaw; a place with so many positive associations, and positive crepes.

Mo has moved!

My Mo Tarmohamed interview is now online at the Straight. The Pickwick and Joey Only interviews remain up, however, above and (a few posts) below. See you at the Rickshaw!

(And Khats and Adstock, perhaps?).

The weekend in review

It's been a fun, music-filled summer weekend!

On Friday, China Syndrome played a song off their previous album, "Let's Stay At Home and Let It All Hang Out." I'd forgotten how funny that song was, but I didn't manage to shoot video. I did shoot two clips of David M. at the Small Salute to David Bowie at Music Madhouse Records, here and here. It was great, as usual, with Ozzy and his ball merrily upstaging David throughout. I'm not sure about the mashup between "Starman" and "Over the Rainbow" - it was a little jarring, frankly - but "Andy Gorgo," one of the new additions, was a hoot. Does this look more like a Pringles can or a PEZ dispenser, to you? (Art by David M., of course).

And Music Madhouse is a fun little shop; they have your typical decent used record store stock, nicely presented, with lots of cool decorations (Skittle shoes?) and plenty of local music. It wasn't the sort of place you can get super deals - Rob knows his stuff - but there's probably plenty of cool finds, and the prices were reasonable (I grabbed a Humble Pie live at the Fillmore for $20). It's nestled in the heart of an apartment complex near Lougheed Mall, on no beaten track whatsoever, but once you know how to get there it's no problem. It makes Apollo Music in Coquitlam seem positively normal as far as record-store locations go, though - and of course David was most amused by how hard it was to find; it's his kind of place. There's even a pub in the same complex, apparently with no storefront whatsoever - we entered through something labeled "Emergency Exit Only."

 Music Madhouse's proprietor Rob, photos by Allan MacInnis; all others below by Erika Lax

I also shot video of the Pointed Sticks, here, dedicating a song to their friend from New York, Jack Rabid. But I haven't much to say about the show. It was fun to meet Jack, and to chat a bit with Joe and Laura Keithley, and see my friends Liz and Blake and Bev - the last of whom Erika and I took to the Spaghetti Factory - but it was more social than anything. Tayt Modern and We Found a Lovebird were fun (the latter doing a radical reworking of Slow's "Have Not Been the Same," which I've heard no one cover before, ever). It was a strange little venue, a half-lovely hall that seemed equally suited to weddings and livestock auctions, striking notes both ornate and mundane, depending on where you looked. I think they might do a lot of dinner theatre or something. Ian Tiles apparently had a hand in my Reid Fleming t-shirt - more on that later, I think; he's going to be involved in booking other shows there this summer and fall, so...

Anyhow, let the music roll on, I'm back to work this week, kinda, and may not be blogging so much this next while, though I do have a few projects on the go, so who knows...

Attention Shallows fans: re: Jaume Collet-Serra, plus The Neon Demon

A few movie thoughts: having enjoyed - with a few misgivings - the effective shark horror film The Shallows, and having previously kinda loved (Shallows director) Jaume Collet-Serra's Unknown, a smarter-than-usual formula action  film (with Liam Neeson, who seems to be cranking out five of these a year while the work is there and the money is good), I went out and picked up two other Collet-Serra DVDs: Non-Stop and Run All  Night (also both with Neeson). Non-Stop is the weaker, drawing on a formula I find tedious (better handled in Unknown, which had a twist that I could not anticipate and kept Mom and I guessing and engaged throughout, when we watched it a few months ago, back when Mom was still alive, obviously): it's an "is the hero nuts film." Without spoiling anything, 99% of the films in this genre answer that question "no," so there's not much sense of suspense left in the question, plus Non-Stop has the unfortunate added drawback of being an "is the hero nuts ON AN AIRPLANE" film, which kind of reached its generic apotheosis with Flightplan (not a good film, but the one that flies its formula to such maximal heights that it somewhat exhausts it for all future time; no more really needs be done with this subgenre, really, or at least not for decades). Story is simple enough: Liam Neeson is an air marshal who is texted terrorist threats on a flight - but is he himself the terrorist? It's effectively done, and Neeson acquits himself fine - at least it's not another Taken sequel - though Julianne Moore is kinda wasted, and in the end its just not that notable a movie. Unknown is more fun - it's a hero-with-memory-loss film, who wakes into a Twilight Zone world to discover that no one remembers him: it's somewhere between a middle-aged Bourne movie and Flow My Tears the Policeman Said, with, as I say, a twist that I did not, could not guess (and energetic, confident direction by Collet-Serra, who is definitely good at this sort of thing).

 

The best film of them all, though - including The Shallows, which is tense but pretty simple - is Run All Night, which has some excellent performances (including Ed Harris), telling a story of family loyalty and gangland crime that doesn't exactly get your pulse racing, but gets you invested in the characters. It reminded me a bit of Phil Joanou's State of Grace, a film I haven't seen for years, but remember having a similarly tragic trajectory and fine cast (also including Ed Harris!). It's not perfect: the showdown at the end lacks freshness, and Collet-Serra keeps insisting on gimmicky zoom shots that take us miles in a few seconds, a distracting "look Ma I have a computer" effect that kinda brought back David Fincher's 2002 film Panic Room: it actually seems a DATED GIMMICK, unlikely to impress, and totally irrelevant to the story (at least the trick shots in Limitless are motivated by the perceptual changes brought on by the drug in the film). But it's the best neo-noir I've seen in awhile, and Neeson reminds you that he actually, beneath all the action movie bullshit, is a fine actor. It's worth seeking out.

In terms of other films recently consumed, I just wanted to say that I rather loved Nicolas Winding Refn's ill- received The Neon Demon, in much the same way that I rather loved Only God Forgives. It's maybe not quite as fresh as that film, but between Refn's images and Cliff Martinez's soundtrack, I was gripped throughout; Refn is one of a handful of filmmakers out there I'm excited to follow at present, a master craftsman with a very intelligent and very dark sense of humour - though surely he needs another Drive to get people's attention again, since he won't be able to keep making films like this for mainstream audiences if he doesn't through the morons a bone once in awhile (I mean, I liked Drive, but it's a kind of Happy Meal compared to his subsequent films, which are kind of for-cinephiles-only. It isn't exactly a surprise that the new film is being poorly received). Must say that I particularly love that he is working with Jena Malone, whom I loved in Donnie Darko, Corn, and The Ruins, and who seems an agreeably eccentric, smart young woman who more could be done with in Hollywood (Google "Jena Malone and her Bloodstains" sometime). David Lynch should work with her. I'm glad Refn did. (I can imagine the conversation when the film was pitched to her: "you want me to play a LESBIAN NECROPHILIAC? I'm in!").

Anyhow, that's about it, I'm kind of rushed, but these are some entertaining films I've been watching. The Neon Demon continues its run at International Village, but only late at night. Thanks to Chris Desjardins, on Facebook, for getting me to get off my ass and see it while there were still matinees.

Of course, now my thoughts will turn to De Palma... Planning a triple bill on Sunday at the Vancity. More on the retrospective below, I have nothing to add, though I was happy to learn that Adrian Mack and I share many DePalma-y enthusiasms....

Tim Chan guitar-centric mini-interview, re: China Syndrome on Canada Day (with Two Apple Tobacco and the Sylvia Platters!)

I've been asking people if they think power pop gets taken less seriously in Vancouver than harder, more political punk - if that's maybe one of the differences between the Vancouver and Victoria scenes (because power pop seems to flourish over there). I put the question to Pete Campbell (of Pink Steel, the Wardells, and the Sweaters) and to the Pointed Sticks' Nick Jones, who both kind of agreed (though Jones doesn't much like the designation "power pop," it turns out, and only singles out a subsection of the Vancouver scene, aka "idiots" with revolutionary aspirations, as dismissing the form). Ford Pier, meanwhile - to whom I put the question while shopping at Red Cat - disagreed with me quite decisively, pointing to a number of successful power pop bands from here and elsewhere, who drew big crowds in Vancouver, like the Smugglers and the Fastbacks; he even remembered well-attended Cruel Elephant shows by the Young Fresh Fellows, who in my experience never really had a huge fan base here (the only fans of theirs I've met are in fact FROM Victoria).

The interesting thing for me is that in the course of the conversation with Ford, I had a realization: *I* didn't, for years, listen to much that could be called power pop. So maybe the takes-self-too-seriously snob I had in mind as a typical Vancouver punk was, in fact, myself? Thinking about it, I had a little shudder of self-recognition: I mean, *I* never paid much attention to the Pointed Sticks until they reunited, for instance - never owned Perfect Youth in my teens or 20's, or at least not for very long: it's possible that I bought it at a thrift store, played it once, and sold it to Ty or RPM or such the next time I came into Vancouver. I think I remember something like that. But that's about it: I never saw the Fastbacks or the Smugglers, and still don't own any music by them - just wasn't interested, despite their reps. Though I did love the Young Fresh Fellows - mostly thanks to the Replacements' Paul Westerberg, advocating for them in interviews - most of my punk tended to political hardcore, Crass and stuff like that. Locally, I was a big fan of the Subhumans, DOA, and, in terms of what was happening in town when I was actually seeing some shows, the Spores and Death Sentence and Slow (not political, but not pop either - if a band wasn't necessarily that political, that was okay, as long as they were on the heavy, dark side, along with other favourites of my teen years, like Nomeansno, the Flesh Eaters, Black Flag, Husker Du...). Hell, I didn't even like the Ramones very much. (And I liked Get the Knack, but the Dead Kennedys made me feel like I shouldn't, so I stopped). Guess I had a bad conscience about enjoying pop music, was mistrustful of its pleasures as a young man, didn't want to make things too easy on myself? If it sounded too much like something that COULD get on the radio - even if it didn't - maybe I was afraid it was all a lie, a trick, a sell-out, a swindle, a seduction? That I might get fooled into liking the wrong stuff?


Hmmm.

Anyhow, happy to report that indeed if it was, in fact, me I'd been thinking of all along, I've gotten over it. I just spun all of Get the Knack with my girl yesterday and shamelessly loved it. And I mean, one of my very favourite local bands to see live at the moment is China Syndrome - a band with (that I've noticed) zero political content whatsoever (incidentally, one of Tim Chan's first big rock concert experiences was The Knack, he tells me). They do have their heavier moments - check out the opening riffage on "Corner of Gore and Pender" on their (just terrific) album The Usual Angst, and you half-expect Robert Plant to leap in and start screamin', like it's "Communication Breakdown" or something - but they also have gotten dubbed "Dad rock" somewhere (which they made plenty of during their Car Free day performances in front of Neptoon, lately, in proximity to Father's Day). I'm not sure what "Dad rock" means, exactly, but it's sure not something that's likely to burn down a church, blow up a missile manufacturing plant, or fling its feces into the audience, is it?

And what could be wrong with that?

Anyhoo, here are some outtakes from a chat I had with China Syndrome frontman Tim Chan, apropos of his gig tomorrow night (Canada Day) at the Fairview. We take in his time in 64 Funnycars, in Vancouver in the 1980's, and we also manage to address at least one confusion, because when I reviewed The Usual Angst for the Straight, I'd mistakenly credited Tim, not Vern Beamish, as the lead guitarist on "My Pal Dan," so I asked him to clarify which songs he played lead on (I think I'd only seen them live once at that point, at the Alex Chilton tribute I mention, and had just seen Tim doing lead guitar for a Gun Club tribute act, Sex Beat, a short while before I wrote that review, so I hope I can be forgiven for my confusion). There are a few big holes in the interview, but that's because there are pieces of our talk that might be appearing in print at a later date... it still is a fun chat...

And by the way, the more I listen to The Usual Angst, the more I like it. You can probably still find the limited vinyl that Tim had pressed - I think it was something like 200 copies - at stores like Red Cat. China Syndrome goes on at the Fairview tonight at 11pm (they're second on the bill, after the Sylvia Platters).

Allan: Do you agree that the Vancouver scene is harder edged than the Victoria one? That there's a kind of snobbery about power pop in Vancouver?

Tim: Well, you know, I think there's an audience for the power poppy stuff everywhere, even in Vancouver. But yeah, a lot of people on the scene I'm involved in in Vancouver is more old school punk. But a lot of them like that kind of music... Victoria, I dunno. It's definitely a lot smaller city, and it's on an island, so it's more of a concentrated and closed community, so people tend to talk about the music more with each other. And as Pete said, the Fellows would sell out in Victoria every time they were in town. They'd play two nights, and both nights would be crazy busy.

People seem nicer and happier on the island, too, though. I mean, my girlfriend is from the island, her parents live there still, so I've gone back and forth quite a bit. People in Vancouver seem to have a little more angst going on.

(Laughing - a bit nervously?). I don't think so!

Not that there isn't a lot of angst in your music. 

...the usual angst?

Yeah! So what was the biggest show 64 Funnycars played? 

We opened for NRBQ, which was a big show. We opened for the Pandoras, who are a classic garage rock band.

A girl group?

That's right. And the Buzzcocks, we opened for the Buzzcocks at Harpo's. That was 1991, on their first reunion tour. It was the three original members, and they had Mike Joyce on drums, from the Smiths. That was one of our last gigs, as the original 64 Funnycars. We were together from 1987 to 1992, and then we all moved to Vancouver and we reunited and played a bunch of shows about four or five years ago. We're kind of on hiatus again.

You were named for some sort of radio ad for a Seattle, what was it, a smash-up derby?

No, it was drag racing! They'd always say "64 funny cars!" In Victoria, you'd get all these Seattle radio stations, and they were better than the Victoria radio stations. So you'd hear those ads constantly - "Seattle International Raceway! 64 funny cars!"

When did China Syndrome form?

2005. I moved to Vancouver in 2003, and before I moved to Vancouver, the last four or five years I lived in Victoria, I wasn't playing. I jammed on and off with some people, but I wasn't in a band. And then I came over here, took a few years to settle down, and finally Eric Lowe from the Funnycars days said, "Hey, I've been jamming with some people," and we got together, and that's how China Syndrome came together.

How important was that Alex Chilton tribute gig that you guys played at? 

That was 2010, a bit later, but that gig was a pretty eventful gig, because that time - the whole group of bands, the people that I know in the punk music scene, that was kind of a time of cohesion, and I met a lot of people at that show that I know now fairly well, like - I don't know if you know Bob Petterson, he plays in a bunch of bands, he plays with Orchard, he plays with the Mud Bay Blues Band, he plays with Eddy D. and the Sex Bombs... he was in Buddy Selfish, with Ian from the Pointed Sticks. And that gig was sort of my intro to people like that.

Kind of your peer group...

...but people I hadn't met before. And Facebook helped, too, bring a lot of people together at that time.

Did you identify as a punk, on the scene in Victoria, as a teenager?

Yeah, I did, definitely. That was my scene. I wasn't really a huge part of the punk scene in Victoria, but I enjoyed going to the shows. I was a pretty shy guy, so I didn't really socialize a lot, but seeking out knowledge, reading about music, understanding pop music and rock music... I read voraciously about all the bands at that time, and I continue to do so. It's just constant, and it started back then.

What were you reading, Creem?

Oh yeah. Rolling Stone - Rolling Stone was a lot better at that time, Trouser Press... all that stuff.

What were you listening to as a young man? 

Well, if I start right at the beginning, because of my uncle [more on whom in said future article], the Beatles. They were my biggest influence I would say, and I still love and admire them. And in high school, I got into what is considered "classic rock" now, like Led Zep and ELO. And one of the things that was a huge part of my upbringing as a kid was just listening to AM radio, just growing up with that. It'd be on all the time, and I knew all the songs. And it was such a mix, then - you'd hear Aerosmith, and then you'd hear the Spinners, then Joni Mitchell... it was all over the map! That really helped influence me to also want to know more about music, because it was all so interesting. Everything's so formatted now, but it was so diverse at that time...

Right.

And I got into the Clash, got into the Jam [Tim tells me later he was lucky enough to see the Jam live, with Paul Weller]. Gang of Four. I think Entertainment is one of my all time favourite albums, even though the style of music I play now has nothing to do with it. XTC, some of their stuff is at the top of my list.

How about guitarists?

I tend to like the more under-rated type guitarists. Andy Gill is just incredible, he's a huge influence on me.

Did you go see them at the Venue, with Gill and his new lineup?

No! I saw them about ten years ago at the Commodore.

Beating up the microwave?

Yeah, yeah! That was amazing to see that, and they were great.

Do you have other favourite guitarists? 

Aggh... I always have a list, but now that you ask me... One person I like a lot is Terry Kath of Chicago, early Chicago.

I don't know early Chicago well.

Their early stuff is good, their first two albums. George Harrison, nobody talks about him that much, but I think he was an amazing guitar player. I thought Johnny Thunders was really cool. Richard Thompson... Will Sergeant of Echo and the Bunnymen... Al Anderson of NRBQ, Mick Ronson, Lou Reed...

You covered Squeeze's "Another Nail in My Heart" and Modern English's "I Melt With You" recently. Any particular reasons for those choices?

Sometimes we play dances, or long shows - sometimes we play three sets in a night, at a dance oriented event, and we thought we would learn some songs people would know. It's fun to record some covers. Usually whenever we go into the studio we record our own songs, but we thought we'd just do that for fun as well.

They're brilliant choices, though, because they're also kind of underrated songs. They should still be on the radio all the time. Like, 80's radio and nostalgia and that, they're playing Bob Seger's "Against the Wind" all the time, or super dull stuff like that, but the Squeeze song is gone. You never hear it. 

It was never a hit. I think sometimes a station like Jack plays that song.

But once every twelve years... You know they're coming, right?

Squeeze? Yeah, I got my ticket already! I've never seen them, that's one band  a lot of people I know have never seen. I guess they haven't played around here that often.

How did you hook up with Vern?

It was through Eric, when we originally formed China Syndrome. I didn't know him beforehand.

He plays leads on all songs?

No, we split the leads, it's just song-by-song. If you want to know who played the lead, you have to ask me!

Okay, tell me! (Hands Tim his CD).

Okay. "Corner of Gore and Pender," that's Vern. "October Mansion," that's me. "It's Happening Over Again" is Vern. "My Pal Dan" is Vern. "It Seemed Like a Good Idea" is Vern. "Pay to Play" is me... "One too Many" is Vern... "Happy Song" is me. Everything else is Vern, except "Humble Pie" is both of us.

Why "Corner of Gore and Pender?" What was there, or is there?

It's the entrance of Chinatown, but it's also Downtown Eastside-ish, and there's a feeling of hopelessness... a lot people feel that, what's going on, why can't the system help me, I guess I'll keep waiting.

Being stuck. 

Exactly.

The press release says it's about poverty. 

Right.

See, I hadn't been hearing it this way, I was thinking maybe YOU were feeling stuck!

(Laughs). Right, sure! That's a good reading. Maybe that comes out a bit, sure.

Because for such a pop album, there's a lot of darkness on this album - insecurity, frustration, confusion... angst!

Yeah, my lyrics do tend toward the dark, I would say. It's easier for me to go that way, for sure.

Is there anything in particular that was informing this album?

It's just about the usual angst! [Tim writes in his press release for the album that he was "wracking my brain trying to think of a title," when his wife asked him what it was about. He answered with "the usual angst," and they both thought it was funny, so he kept it.]

 What is "It's Happening Over Again" about?

I think I wrote in the press release that it's kinda of about geopolitics, and in a way it is. If you go back through history - the Middle East situation, say - we do the same thing over and over again, and nothing's been resolved.

Maybe it's me, then. I keep applying all your lyrics to you, keep taking your songs as being more autobiographical than they are... I was wondering what might be happening over again TO YOU. Heh. Anyhow, are you happy with where the band is at these days? 

Yeah! We all have fun, we all enjoy writing songs and playing gigs, so it's good!

Do you tour very far afield?

No, the island is about it. We had some thoughts about trying to apply to some festivals, and we did - there's always summer festivals around the province, that sort of thing - and haven't been approved for any of them, but we tried, y'know?

One thing that I think would be fun to have happen would be for you guys to play China. 

Ha ha!

There's a whole bunch of Vancouver bands that have played China. Unleash the Archers, War Baby - DOA have been to China twice! There's a magazine called Painkiller that's booking gigs over there. I think it would be awesome.

Yeah, sure, that would be really cool actually. I don't know what the other guys would think. But it's a funny thing that you mention China, because my wife's Dad lived in China in the 1980's, and he formed a band. They were one of the first rock bands to play in China.

What were they called? 

Beijing Underground. He was a teacher in China. And he formed this band with other teachers, and they toured around - with members of the party there; it was usually very stiff, but I remember they got some press at that time.

Were they from Vancouver?

They were from all over the place! They were all in China teaching English to Chinese people, in their spare time, and they realized that they were all musicians and they formed a band.

Was he also Chinese-Canadian?

No!

Oh, okay. That would confuse some people, a band called Beijing Underground and they're white guys or somethin'! But it's interesting, there's a fantastic Beijing band playing the Rickshaw in October, Carsick Cars, and you gotta see them. 

They're from Beijing?

Yeah! And the singer Zhang has told me, when they play shows in China, they have to give setlists to the government to get pre-approval. There are songs they're not allowed to play, if I recall - there's a brand of cigarettes that has a name very similar to that of the Chinese parliament. "Zhong Nan Hai," that's it. So you can smoke cigarettes, or you can smoke the parliament. The government doesn't care for it.

Yeah, I seem to remember Sarah's Dad had to do that, too. That had to have things pre-approved, they had to be really careful.

I don't know how DOA managed.

Yeah, right! I know.

To come back to the album, can I ask about  the song for Steve Marriott? "Humble Pie?" Where did that come from?

Well, I'm a huge Small Faces fan, and my wife and I became obsessed with a couple of videos that have come on Youtube, of the Small Faces playing in Germany in 1966. Actually, we have them on DVD. It was on this German music show called Beat Beat Beat, and they were just amazing. Steve Marriott is a little white guy, but he has the soul of a bluesman in him, and he's a great guitar player, speaking of great guitar players, and you don't really hear about him. And this one particular performance was just so cool, so there's a bunch of references in the first verse of the song to that particular performance. And then the second verse talks about another performance he did when he was in Humble Pie, on The Old Grey Whistle Test. It's a BBC TV show from the early 70's, and he was on that show doing a song called "Black Coffee," and he had this back up band called the Blackberries.

Not the old blues standard, I think by Ella Fitzgerald...?

No, I think it's an original. But - they're three African American women who are backing him up, and he's just so part of them, like, he's in the same community as them in this performance. They're looking at him, he's looking at them, and they're flashing each other secret glances, and the chemistry is so great, in this video. And at the end there's this mellow guy, the BBC host - Bob Harris is his name - and he's like, "oh, this is Steve Marriott" - he's so proper, he's so mellow. So that's sort of what the second verse describe.

I think I might have started watching one of them. 

There should be a whole video of the Beat Beat Beat video, and you have to see the bit where the host comes in. He's American. Basically, all these bands went to Germany to play to American forces kids, because they bring a girl onstage and interview her, and they're asking questions...

I've actually neglected my Humble Pie. I know "30 Days in the Hole" more from a Mike Watt cover version... [Note: I came out of Neptoon on Car Free Day with the Humble Pie album that that song is on, and proudly displayed it to Chan, who approved].

We watched those videos over and over again. He's so cool, talk about being under-rated, very few people talk about him now.

He died really young, didn't he?

Yeah, I think in his mid-40's. He could have given a lot more. I know he had a lot of problems, the usual stuff - drug problems, alcohol problems, what have you...

Anything else we should say? Mike, your bassist, he's a new member, right?

Yeah, he's on The Usual Angst, but him and Kevin, the drummer, they've been with us for five years now. It's actually the most stable lineup we've had for China Syndrome.

Any future plans?

We have a bunch of new songs, now, and hope to have a new album, maybe next year. We're going to do some of them tonight. We're playing with a young band who apparently like us a lot, the Sylvia Platters will be starting the night. They're quite the fans of us. They're in their early 20's, and they called us out of the blue last year to play a show with them, and we did. And we just found out, they've been following us the last couple of years.

And the other band, Two Apple Tobacco? 

They're kind of like - I've heard them described as Frank-Zappa-esque, and there's like, a fiddle player, a trombone player; there's something like eight people in the band. It sounds really interesting, actually.

Are there other Bowie songs in the set, or was that just for the Bowie tribute night? 

We have been playing "Ashes to Ashes," and we had been playing "Let's Dance" anyways. It was kind of one of those songs we would add if we played a dance situation.

I really like your version of "Let's Dance," but it's weird, because it's one of those songs that's underrated by virtue of being a hit. Which doesn't make a lot of sense, but people are snobbish about that album. 

Yeah, right!

It was too successful.

Exactly. 

Why did you pick "Ashes to Ashes?"

It's one of his greatest songs, I would say.

It's also very self-referential.

It's really cool how that is.

Is there any personal connection between you and that song?

I just like the song, but I do love the referential aspect of it, looking back, it was ten or eleven years after Space Oddity, and he's looking back... I think that's really cool, how he kind of continued the character and made him a junkie. And I guess with the video for Blackstar, he took it to its logical conclusion.

Below: hey, look, it's an ad! For all you "Ad Mistrusters" out there, note that I actually received no monies for putting this on my blog. (I have never received any $$$ from gig posters or banners I have put up here, though occasionally I *have* cadged guestlistings. I mean, I'm no saint.