On the pleasant evening of June 22nd, I headed out for the Fat Albert’s open stage. There was construction along College Street beginning at Bathurst and going east, so I walked my bike along the sidewalk for a few blocks until I could mount it again.
I arrived at Fat Albert’s and signed up. My
two earliest possibilities to play were either number 2 or number 5. I would
have preferred number 5, but since both Charles Winder and dark Cloud had
written themselves in before that I was afraid that with the long flamenco
pieces that Charles plays and the long songs that dark Cloud writes, that even
with number 5, I might not get on before the feature.
When I walked in,
Brian Rosen was rehearsing back up vocals for one of Dark Cloud’s songs. They
spent about an hour working on the piece that he wrote about Martin Luther
King.
There was no one
setting up the sound at that point so I set up the tripods and mounted the
speakers, hoping I’d gotten it right this time.
When he and Brian
took a break from rehearsing, Dark Cloud asked me what’s been happening at the
Tranzac. I told him that I find playing for an audience of only musicians to be
extremely cannibalistic. Both Dark Cloud and Bob Allen, who was sitting nearby,
nodded in agreement. Brian’s ears perked up when he heard that there was an
open stage at the Tranzac, until he heard what time it starts. Going out to
perform in the last two hours of the day did not appeal to him at all.
I went to the
washroom and found John Reid sitting on the floor and playing guitar with his
back to the wall. I thought that with the shadows cast by the bright overhead
light, it made for an interesting image, so I asked if I could take his
picture.
The paper towel dispenser is right in the
corner behind the door. I was drying my hands when the building manager for the
Steelworkers Hall opened the door and bumped me. He didn’t apologize, but
rather gave me an accusing look as if to ask, “What the hell are you doing
drying your hands when I’m opening the door?”
I came back and took three photos of John
as he practiced Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain”. I told him if he gave
me his email address I’d send them to him. He said he had one but didn’t know
it, so he’d give it to me next time.
Later, while I was
sitting in the Fat Albert’s room, the building manager came to stand in the
doorway and look around, giving everybody the hairy eyeball. When I saw Glen
Gary I told him, and he explained that Fat Albert’s hadn’t been confirmed yet
for the next week and so he the guy had been looking for him to clear that up.
The open stage
began as usual with Charles Winder, who just did one long flamenco piece that
had lots of light percussion made by finger tapping after each downward strum.
I was after
Charles, and started with my translation of Serge Gainsbourg’s “L’accordion” –
“ … When sometimes he massacres her buttons of pearl, he’ll rip one of his own
for his accordion. When her support is in ganger he’ll lend his suspenders, so
what holds his pants on is an accordion …”
I followed this
with my own “Next State of Grace” – “ … My mind hangs above this emotional
wreck, like a scavenger looking for parts, and it lives in a mansion that’s
built from the sweat of my tar paper third world heart …”
The audience was
actually listening this time when I played.
Then it was Brian
Rosen’s turn.
Brian started with
the traditional song, “The Three Sailor Boys” – “ We are three jolly, jolly
sailor boys newly home from South Amerikee, our hearts still tingling from the
salt, salt wind and the tumble and the tossing of the sea … Wind is in the sail
and the thunder’s in the gale and the good ship is plunging to be free …”
Brian told us that
his second choice was about real estate, and then he sang George Vaughn
Horton’s “Mockingbird Hill” – “ … Got a three-cornered plough and an acre to
till and a mule that I bought for a ten dollar bill. There’s a tumble down
shack and an old rusty mill and it’s my home sweet home on Mockingbird Hill …”
Dark Cloud followed
Brian, and he introduced his first song with a story. He told us that back in
1980 he had a friend that called him over to his place. When he arrived his
friend informed him that he had a special telephone with which he could call
heaven. He handed the phone to Dark Cloud and told him that he could call
anyone in heaven with whom he wanted to speak, so he called Martin Luther King.
When he asked if there was anything he could do, King asked him to write a song
for him – “Well I woke up that morning and what did I see? Tears of a nation …
Try walking side by side with full pride … Do you remember me? I had a dream …
Do you remember the shots and the screams? My name is Martin Luther King …”
From Dark Cloud’s
second song – “ … I’ll still be by your side on that last train ride … Wheels
slowing down, passing through Nashville town … the hour glass is empty, no more
sand …”
Next came Dawn.
Her first song
sounded like it was one of her own compositions – “You’re so wrong about me …
let me be free … from tyranny … We’re all animals … Go and be brave, go and
make history … I’m at your mercy … Liberation for the animals, cause we are all
animals … Fear is what guides harmful behaviour.”
Dawn’s second song
also had the feel of being home made – “Venus, queen of love divine … Ocean of
love, flowing free … join us now … let our hearts be one … bring my true love
unto me.”
Bob Allen received
the formal introduction of “Robert Allen” when it was his turn. Glen Gary
assisted him on the piano when he sang his own song, “Kenny and Charlie” – “I
met a steamfitter named Charlie, he worked on the job every day … He had an old
dog named Charlie … If anything happened to Charlie, I’m sure old Kenny would
die … They both made a very good team, fixing them pumps and them boilers, a
man and his dog and his dream …” Bob told us that it was a true story with a
very good ending.
Robert’s second
song was another of his own – “Where have you been all my life, the ones I’ve
known were full of strife … I can’t help feeling blue when you run into town
with someone new … This does not change my mind, you see, I love you more each
time we meet … and when you’re through with your old man, I’ll be around to
take your hand …”
After Bob was John
Reid, who started with Neil Young’s “Rockin In the Free World” – “ … There’s a
lot of people saying we’d be better off dead, I don’t feel like Satan but I am
to them … I see a woman in the night with a baby in her hand … near a garbage
can she puts the kid away and goes to get a hit … There’s one more kid that
will never go to school, never get to fall in love, never get to be cool … Got
Styrofoam boxes for the ozone layer … got fuel to burn, got roads to drive …”
John’s second
offering was a guitar instrumental of his own composition, called “Tuesday”. It
was a good, complex and well-played piece.
Then it was time
for the feature of the night. It was Brian Morgan, with Lucien Millette on
bass.
Brian began with a
story from the night before of he and Lucien rehearsing in the back yard and it
started to rain. The thing was though that it was only raining on one chair.
They looked up and saw that it was a raccoon urinating from above.
Brian began with
his own “Bad Mama Blues” for which Lucien played an intro on the harmonica – “I
wanna testify … Every goose has a gander … but mine never comes home … She
jiggles at the bar like an earthquake in a jar …” There was the repeated phrase
of “Bad mama” with which the audience sang along …”
Lucien played bass
on Brian’s second song, which he said he wrote on a trip to Newfoundland, after
visiting the old French fort at Placentia Bay. The song is called “Save A
Moment For Me”. I’ve heard him do this song on several occasions. It’s from the
perspective of a French soldier serving as a lookout in the fort, with lots of
time to be homesick – “I live on dreams … Looking for ships that can’t be seen
… Straining my eyes through a curtain of sea … Here on the ramparts the wind
chills the bone … It’s been three years … The glory of kings I serve … I can
see Paris when I close my eyes … Guard un second pour moi … lorsque je passerai
eternite sans toi …” The French would be “save a second for me … when I’m
passing an eternity without you.”
Brian said that his
next offering was a song of inflation from million to billion. The music was
written in a Caribbean style and sung in a fake accent that is associated with
that region, and Lucien sang backup vocals on the chorus – “Now I runnin round
in circles and squares … Ooh whee, we gotta get us a billion … It doesn’t
really make a lot of sense, there’s nothing left after the food and rent …”
After that song,
Brian and Lucien switched guitars. I had thought at first that Lucien was only
accompanying Brian, but it turned out but it turned out that they were
splitting the feature.
Lucien did all
covers, and his first was a Stan Rogers song called “Make and Break Harbour”,
for which Brian sang the high harmony, even though he’d only first heard it the
night before – “ … Once more we tack home with a dry, empty hold, saving gas
with the breezes so fair, She’s a kindly Cape Islander, old but still sound,
lost in the longliner’s shadow … The fish are so few that she won’t be
replaced, should she founder. It’s so hard not to think of before the big war when
the cod were so cheap and so plenty, foreign trawlers go by now with long
seeing eyes, taking all when we hardly take any … The big draggers have stirred
up the bay, leaving lobster traps smashed on the bottom …”
Lucien took a
moment to find the music for his next selection, which was Gordon Lightfoot’s
“Carefree Highway”, on the chorus of which Brian sane backup – “ … Her name was
Ann and I’ll be damned if I recall her face … The thing that I call living is
just being satisfied without knowing I have no one left to blame … Searching
through the fragments of my dream shattered sleep …”
Lucien then put on
his harmonica holder and announced that his last choice would be a Neil Young
song. Mary Milne shouted out a reminder that Neil Young played Fat Albert’s
back in the 60s. The song was “Long May
You Run”, which I had only figured out a few years ago was a love song to a
car. Before that I’d thought the automobile imagery was metaphorical. Brian
sang on the chorus while Glen Gary clapped out a rhythm from offstage – “ … It
was back in Blind River in 1962 when I last saw you alive, but we missed that
shift on the long decline … With your chrome heart shining in the sun, long may
you run …” Brian’s harmony saved Lucien’s voice as it faltered on this one.
Brian Morgan is a
talented musician and songwriter, with a good voice. His songs, though not all
outstanding, all stand apart from one another. He writes in a variety of
styles, and while his lyrics are not exceptionally good, they do show that he
puts a lot of thought into them. Lucien Millette works fine as a backup
musician for Brian, but I think it was not a good choice for them to split
their feature. As Brian performed original songs and sang them with a much
better voice, he made Lucien look bad by comparison.
Mary reminded
everyone that the following week would be the last Fat Albert’s until the first
Wednesday after Labour Day, so as usual there would be pot luck. Glen added,
“We need roast beef, smoked meat, cold pheasant, caviar …” We were also reminded
that next week would be Mary Milne’s retirement from hosting party.
Returning to the
open stage, the first performer was Bridget, with help from Ruth Jenkins.
From her first song
– “Watch what you say and watch what you do, watch what you wish for cause it
might come true …”
Bridget’s second
offering was a break-up song called “You’re Still In My Heart”.
After Bridget,
performers were limited to one song each.
Next came Elizabeth
Block, who told us first of all that she’d gone to a town hall last week on the
Trans Pacific Partnership, which is a trade agreement between twelve Pacific
Rim countries, including Canada. She said all but one spoke against it. She
quoted what she said that night, “Do I like it? No, no! I am a resister!
Resisting still!” She added that as the Quakers say, “I spoke to everyone’s
condition.”
The song that
Elizabeth did was in honour of her feelings on the topic of free trade. It was
Grit Laskin’s “The Margins of My Neighbourhood” – “On Wednesday night I had a
job …. And a begging I will go … I go past the smart cafes where I used to live
… I am headed for the food bank … When there are factories on the moon, will
the earth be on the dole?”
John Stroud’s song
choice was entitled “Words Like A Door”, though I don’t know who wrote it –
“The words I use are dated, lines on pages faded … words like a door don’t seem
to fit anymore …”
When Mary
introduced Glen Gary, she urged us to be nice to him, because he’ll be on his
own next fall. Brian Morgan on violin and Wayne Neon on flute joined him on
stage. Glen dedicated “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” to an old friend of Fat
Albert’s named Correna, who had recently died. I think that the funeral had
been that day.
Then everyone
remained on stage, plus Ruth stepped up to accompany Marianne Peck as she sang
“You Are My Sunshine”. Ruth sang backup vocals. Glen directed the other
musicians, calling for a violin solo after one verse, a flute solo after
another and harmonica after another. Harmonica and flute do not blend well
together.
Next was someone
new named Scott Rogers. He did not name
an author for the song he sang – “Take my hand and show me the right way to go
… The road is dark and I’m afraid to walk this way alone … This life that I’ve
led and all the riches that surround me, they’re like a stone that I’m sure in
time will drown me … In love and ambition I have often travelled blind … My
thoughts turn to envy and my actions are unkind …”
After Scott came
Isaac Bonk, who sang his own “Ballad of Sammy Yatim” – “ … The officers thought
he would kill … His mind was lost, a line he did cross … That knife in his hand
… Guns were pulled … They aimed … These cops felt no shame for the boy of 18 …
The tension it grew as the bullets they flew … Now Sammy lay dead, all covered
in red … nine bullets all that he was fed … The blood on their hands it’s too
much to stand …”
Michelle Lecce
Hewett invited Brian and Wayne to accompany her for her song, which she wrote
recently while going through her cancer journey. She told us that while she was
sitting at the arts and crafts table at Sunnybrook Hospital, she drew a palm
tree and tried to think of calm things. What came to mind was the phrase, “hope
spring connection”, and that led to her song, “Give Me Faith” – “ … Lately I’ve
been hiding, hiding away … Once I danced to Bowie, now I’m left with his songs
… Give me faith, give me hope, give me connection …”
Michelle was
followed by Neil Trotter, a name that one would expect to be attached to
someone with a British accent, and it is. He told us that he works for the
government, pushing paper, and he looks like he does too. He sang Steve Earle’s
“My Old Friend The Blues” in a nasal voice, but it was an effective rendition
nonetheless – “ … Another lonely night, a nameless town, If sleep don’t take me
first you’ll come around …”
When Peter James
came to the stage with his guitar, I thought that he was going to do a song,
but he performed an instrumental piece. He told us that he plays it every day
when he wakes up and while doing so thinks about friendships, what he might
have done wrong and what he can do to make things right. He dedicated it to
Correnna Lee.
Randy was next, and
as usual he’d brought a CD player, with which he sang along. This time it was
Carole King’s “So Far Away”. At the end he was crying over the death of
Correnna Lee, though I got the sense that Randy had not known the person at
all.
Always near the
end, then came Ruth Jenkins, with Brian on violin and Glen on piano. She sang
John Denver’s “Annie’s Song”, dedicated it to Correnna, and then declared,
“She’s still here in the ether and that’s all there is to it!” At one point
Ruth got lost and so she asked Brian to take a solo. He played facing Glen as
to follow the chords.
After Ruth was
Wayne Neon, who dedicated his rendition of Hedy West’s “500 Miles” to Correnna
Lee. Glen played piano and Brian played violin.
I wondered where
Tom Hamilton was this night. It seemed an odd coincidence that the only night
he didn’t show up was when there was another fiddle player in the room.
This was followed
by Zoe Henderson doing a short instrumental on her ukulele.
The second to last
performer of the night was Elizabeth Knowlton, who also dedicated her song to
Correnna Lee. It seems to me that all of these dedications to Correnna would have
been more useful to her if she’d received them while she was alive.
Elizabeth read the
lyrics from the music stand, which was quite a ways away from her – “I was
never born, I will never die … I’m the smile upon your face … I’m the one you
love to see, I’m the one you long to be … I am the ancient one … There’s a
million questions, I’m the answer … I’m the sickness and the cure … I’m this
twisted fate … I’m the one that bends … I’m the trouble and the fun … I’m the
only place to run …”
The
last singers were the duo of Carole Farkash and Paul Nash. Unusually, Paul did
not have his guitar with him this time. They sang “Today” by Randy Sparks” –
“Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine, I’ll taste your
strawberries, I’ll drink your sweet wine. A million tomorrows will all pass
away ‘ere I forget all the joy that is mine today … I can’t be contented with
yesterday’s glory, I can’t live on promises winter to spring. Today is my
moment, now is my story …” When Carole and Paul were finished, they gave each
other a hug, and then he took her hand to help her down from the stage.
No comments:
Post a Comment