On the evening of Wednesday, June 1st, when I arrived at the Steelworkers Hall, the earliest available number on the open stage list was “8”. It occurred to me that I needed to start leaving my place earlier if I wanted to get on before the feature. I also started thinking that maybe in previous years I had come earlier but had forgotten.
Elizabeth Block arrived and Mary Milne
commented on the symbol “ψ” on her
t-shirt. Elizabeth explained that it was the Greek letter “psi” and that she is
an honourary member of “Psychologists For Responsibility”. She said that she
got the t-shirt at a meeting of the organization during which they voted to
forbid psychologists from helping governments to engage in torture. She said
that only one member had voted against the ban, and that was someone that works
for the CIA.
Mary had mentioned
that they were low on sugar for coffee but that they didn’t really need it
anyway. Tony Hanik, who was setting up the sound system, said that the brain
runs entirely on glucose. I had to look that one up later to be sure, and found
that the brain runs “almost” entirely on glucose but that during exercise it
takes in some lactate.
Mary was telling
someone about the earlier incarnation of Fat Albert’s in the basement of the
Bloor Street United Church at Huron, and how the tables were those giant spools
that are used to wind cables. I had forgotten all about those things!
Mary told the person
also that she would be stepping down as host after the end of season party on
July 29th. Someone asked who would be replacing her and I called
out, “Regis Philbin!” Mary asked, “Is he still alive?” Tony answered, “Yes!”
Mary declared that she had hosted longer than any other Fat Albert’s host, but
Tony reminded her that the team of Ed Matthews and Ray Peak had done the job
much longer than she had. They were hosts when I started going to Fat’s and I
remember them both to have been very nice guys. Tony told me that Ray died last
year but that Ed still shows up occasionally.
Tony mentioned how
there had been smoking at Fat Albert’s back then. I vaguely remembered that. I
told him that I work for the Ontario College of Art and have done so since
there was smoking in art classes. I told Tony that I recalled him mentioning
having attended Marshal McLuhan’s lectures at U of T, and that I’d seen video
of those sessions in which pretty much the entire class was smoking.
Mary brought over a
sugar jar for me to open for her. It felt when I turned it like it had been
open already.
I was sitting with
my “Le Robert & Collins” French-English dictionary in one hand and Francois
Gravel’s tween novel, “Klonk” in the other, and was looking the odd word up as
I read along. Tony noticed this and commented about my two-handed reading. I
explained that it was French and that I needed a little help. He said that it
was beyond him.
The open stage
started on time with Bridget, doing all original songs as usual. She told us
that she’d written the first one, called “Lay It Down”, to encourage people
that suffer from depression.
Just then someone
tapped me on the shoulder. It was Ruth Jenkins telling me that my guitar, which
was propped up on the seat next to mine, was blocking the view. I took it down
to the floor between my knees.
From Bridget’s song
– “ … Don’t you feel ashamed, you’re not the one to blame … I know you’ll
overcome, I know you will, you’re not the only one, I know you don’t need that
pill …”
Her second song was
“Here We Go” – “Harder is better than easy sometimes, because the greater the
struggle, the greater the victory … So here we go … I’m riding on the wave of a
new song … Feelings are stronger than logic sometimes, but emotions can run
rampant and lead you down the wrong path … intentions turn out badly when we
act before we think …”
Next up was Glen
Hornblast. He was joined on stage by Tom Hamilton on violin and Bob Cohen on
lead guitar. Tom was decked out this week in a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, jeans
and a big belt. Bob had his vermilion coloured electric. Glen began with an announcement that, “one
of our flock died … Dave King, a great song writer and player.”
Glen sang his
signature song, “When Will I Get Over You?” – “ … When the love affair is
through, it’ll break your heart in two and leave an emptiness that only love
can mend …”
Tom sang harmony on
the final chorus.
Glen then told a
story about Dave King. At the original Fat Albert’s location, Dave had left
with someone else’s identical guitar case, but realized his mistake and
returned before the night was over. The other person though had left by this
time with his case, containing a guitar that Dave had just purchased for
thousands of dollars. According to Glen, upon realizing that his guitar was gone,
Dave had a tantrum and was lying on his back like a two year old, kicking his
feet and banging his fists on the floor. He did get his guitar back later.
From Glen’s second
song – “New York City on a rainy night, walking down 8th Avenue, the
headlights look like ghosts to me … You’re the only girl I ever loved on 8th
Avenue …” Now that’s really narrowing the relationship down to its most unique
components! Bob and Tom both had solos between verses.
After Glen was Kirk
Felix, accompanied by a percussionist named Darlene Saxon with a wooden,
box-shaped drum called a cajón that she sits upon while playing. Also joining
Kirk was Tom Hamilton on violin and Kevin Jeffries on acoustic bass.
Kirk’s first song
was Dusty Roads – “Trekked all around the world too much to take it in …”
Darlene was getting
a lot of sound out of that box.
Kirk’s second
offering was called “Old Folky Song” and he wanted to make sure we understood
that he wasn’t an old fogey. Tom interjected, “One is a term of derision, while
the other is a term of affection.”
From the song – “ …
Singing songs by Paxton, Phil Ochs and Seeger too … I’ve never been in a band,
cause I’ve always sung alone … Meeting a guy named Gordon at some old DC show
…”
Then came Dark
Cloud, who said, “1980, Rochester, New York. A little different from what
you’re expecting. 1, 2, 3, 4 …” He stops and begins again – “Oh Mr. President,
will you please read this letter I’ve sent to you … No more heroes … Oh deaf
angels, your vision shows no mercy and reason’s going blind …”
Of his second song,
Dark Cloud told us he’d written it five, six or seven years ago – “I love
America and maybe I could learn to love you too … When I walk alone I step in
fear …”
Following Dark Cloud
was Darlene Saxon, who carried to the stage a case that looked like it was
holding a hibachi. As she sat down and began to open it, she said, “I’m gonna
play my barbecue. I promise it will be well-done, once the cover’s off of it!”
I had seen and heard the instrument a few years before, though I forget where I
was. It wasn’t Fat Albert’s, so it was probably either at the Tranzac open
stage or at Cat Weasel. It was like a mini-steel drum, with the metal pounded
out into the shape of a mound and then depressions of various depths for each
note. She told us that she’d gotten it in Australia, though it was invented in
Switzerland in the year 2000, that it was in the G-minor scale and that it is
called a “hang”.
Darlene said that
not many compositions had been written for the instrument, but she would be
playing one called “Bird Song”. I have found someone playing the instrument on
YouTube and also playing a piece called “Bird Song”. Many people are calling it
a “spacedrum” and I suspect that name will catch on more than “hang”.
Darlene started to
leave, but she was told she could do two songs. She played something very
similar to “Bird Song”.
Next, Dawn was
called to the stage, but since she wasn’t in the room, they decided that it was
time for the feature anyway, so Mary introduced Christine Gaidies.
Christine was joined
on stage by Tom Hamilton, Bob Cohen and Kevin Jeffries.
As Christine was
doing her sound check, I heard Martin Owen, to my right, tell Marianne Peck, to
his right, “I’m sick of psychiatry!”
Christine’s first
song was entitled, “Fire Inside” – “Heart strings vibrate a little, folding up
the tears of yesteryears … Let’s go down to the edge of the water and watch it
put on a show …”
Christine mentioned
that there had been a funeral that day for Dave King. She said that her next
song, “How Will I Remember Thee?” was inspired by David Bowie, but she would
dedicate it to Dave King. The song was basically a remembrance of a friend. Tom
Hamilton was playing a djembe drum.
As Christine told us
that her next song was called “Thinking Twice”, Martin was making some noise as
he broke open a pack of pens and opened his notebook to make a sketch of
Christine and the other musicians on stage. Tom was back on the fiddle.
“ … Woman in winter
… frozen in time … visions that keep me
frozen … I can’t see through these eyes cause I’m paralyzed …” The song had a
very dramatic ending.
From the beginning
of her set, there was something familiar about Christine’s voice. I was finally
able to place that she sounds very similar to Susanna Hoffs of The Bangles.
For her next song,
Christine invited Ruth Jenkins to the stage. Tom switched back to the djembe
drum. Christine told us that when she first met her husband, as she often did
with people she was dating, she asked him to tell her a story. He told her a
tale about a woman standing on the edge of the ocean watching at the ship that
was carrying her lover off to war, sail away. She said she bawled her eyes out.
Her song, “Leave the Light on”, that had been inspired by that story had a
haunting melody – “ … Time just flows right on by into the future, that’s where
I’ll be … You are my future, maybe my past … Will you be my lighthouse …”
Christine’s final
song had the name, “My Heart Is In The West” – “When the day is done, my heart
is in the west with the setting sun …” Tom was playing both the djembe and
another small drum.
From a musical standpoint, Christine Gaidies
does have some strong though conventional songs. Her lyrics do not for the most
part stand out as finding new ways to say things. She has a strong voice and
she really does put herself into the performance of her songs, for someone who
is sitting down while playing and singing them. The impact of her live shows
would be much more powerful though if she could adapt to standing while
singing. What I found odd though was her mention of a song having been inspired
by David Bowie and yet the song itself dipped both lyrically and musically far
below the edge against which Bowie pushed.
Returning to the
open stage, now limited to one song each, the first performer was Dawn, who
never introduces the songs she sings. I know that she writes some of the songs
she performs, but most are by others. The bits of her lyrics that I wrote down
did not track down a song when I pasted them into a search engine, so it’s
possible that even though she was reading the lyrics while singing them, it was
one of her own songs – “I am the slave of my thoughts … We cannot live on
together … we found our freedom in the wind …”
Next was Bob Allen.
He invited Bob Cohen, Glen Gary and Tom Hamilton to play with him but Tom could
not be found.
Someone, I think it
was Glen, said something, the context of which I didn’t catch, but it sounded
like, “ … two headed monster. He had the baby, I didn’t. Burning battery of
asbestos …” Bob sang his own song, “Northern Bound” and gave Bob Cohen two
solos.
After Bob it was my
turn. I decided to try an experiment and to use the microphone this time to
find out if more volume would catch people’s attention any better. For the
third time in a row at Fat Albert’s I sang my song “Paranoiac Utopia”. The only
response that I got besides polite applause was that a woman in the audience
laughed when I announced the name of the song. The audience tends to be very
distracted after the feature and I didn’t notice that was getting through to
them any better by using a microphone.
Then came Jean
Claude Sendez, who sang a quiet song in French that everyone quietly listened
to. The song was Quebecois songwriter, Patrick Norman’s (Yvon Étier’s) “Quand
On Est En Amour” –
“Si tu crois que
l’amour t’a laissé tomber une autre fois
et tu vois a a que
tout ton univers s’écroule autour de toi
N’oublie pas vient
toujours le soleils après les jours de pluies
Ouvre grand ton
coeur ne cherche pas ailleurs écoute ce qu’il te dit
Ne les pas passer la chance d’être aimé
Le coeur deviens
moins lourd
Quand on est en
amour
Si un jour tu semble
que dans ta vie plus rien ne t’appartient
En Boheme tu erres
dans la nuit apaisant ton chagrin
Souviens-toi qu’il t
a toujours quelqu’un qui n’attend que ta main
Ouvre grand ton
coeur ne cherche pas ailleurs écoute ce qu’il te dit
Ne les pas passer la
chance d’ être aimé
Le coeur deviens
moins lourd
Quand on est en
amour
Mais la vie parfois
nous fait l’esclave de nos souvenirs
Entre nous
qu’importe le passé il y a l’avenir
C’est pourquoi tu te
dois de remettre l’amour dans ton lit
Ouvre grand ton
coeur ne cherche pas ailleurs écoute ce qu’il te dit
Ne les pas passer la
chance d’ être aimé
Le coeur deviens
moins lourd
Quand on est en
amour”
Here’s my quick,
rhyming translation:
When Romance Is In
Flight
If you think that
sweet romance has once again let you down
And that your whole
universe is falling apart all around
Don’t forget that
the sun always comes back after rainy skies
Then open wide your
heart and listen well to its advice
And do not pass up
the chance to be
loved
The heart becomes so
light
when romance is in
flight
If sometimes it
seems that there is nothing that you really possess
And you wander the
Bohemian night in distress
Remember that there
is always someone waiting for your caress
Then open wide your
heart and listen to what it says
And do not pass up
the chance to be
loved
The heart becomes so
light
when romance is in
flight
But our lives
sometimes make us slaves to what we remember
For us, no matter
the past there is always a future
That is why it is
your duty to allow love in your bed
Then open wide your
heart and listen to what it says
And do not pass up
the chance to be
loved
The heart becomes so
light
when romance is in
flight
It’s
hard to know exactly why people were quiet for a song they didn’t understand
but distracted during my song. Maybe it’s just that Jean Claude is a better
guitarist, that he has more of a presence or maybe because he’s a Fat Albert’s
mainstay.
Following
Jean Claude was Ruth Jenkins, and with the help of Bob, Glen and Tom, she sang
and played Sam Cooke’s “Bring It On Home To Me”. The way that Ruth stretches
out her songs, with everyone on stage getting at least one solo, it was the
equivalent of her getting to play two songs anyway.
Next
was Elizabeth Block and I finally got a full look at her t-shirt when she got
up on stage. In addition to the Greek symbol for “psi”, it read in English,
“First do no harm”. Elizabeth sang Rudyard Kipling’s “A Smuggler’s Song” with
music by Peter Bellamy. She claimed that British children of her generation all
knew this song – “If you wake at midnight and hear a horse’s feet, don’t go
drawing back the blind or looking in the street. Them that ask no questions,
isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall my darling while gentlemen go by … If you meet
Kin George’s men, dressed in blue and red, you be careful what you say and
mindful what is said. If they call you pretty maid and chuck you neath the
chin, don’t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one’s been … If you do
as you’ve been told, likely there’s a chance you’ll be give a dainty doll all
the way from France …”
After
Elizabeth was Mark Yan, with help from Tom and Bob. He sang and played “Lovely
Day” by Bill Withers and Skip Scarborough – “ … When the day that lies ahead of
me seems impossible to face, when someone else instead of me always seems to
know the way, then I look at you … and I know it’s gonna be a lovely day …”
Glen
called out, “If we limit songs to 3 minutes and 45 seconds we’ll get everyone
to play!”
I
called back, “That must mean no more solos then!”
Then
came Isaac Bonk, who played his song about the woman that left her husband and
son, and then when the son grew up he shot her on the street. Tom Hamilton
accompanied him on the violin after they spent some time complimenting one
another’s hats. Isaac’s was a light gold straw hat with a round brim, which he
tilts back on his head while playing so that it looks like a halo. Isaac
doesn’t change chords very much, as most of his playing is in the picking.
The
hollow wooden stage really gives a lot of sound to a tapping foot.
Following
Isaac was someone new with the name of Wesley, and it sounded to me like he had
an Australia accent. His song was called “Blue Moon” – “ … Just aint as easy,
please believe me … I’ve got my mind running, running away from the herd, my
vision’s a little blurred …”
Next
was Tony Hanik, with help from Bob and Tom, singing a song that he didn’t
introduce. I’m guessing here that it was one of his own – “ … I’m not a child
anymore … all I know is I could love you now, especially when we dance … I’m
not shy anymore … I don’t ask why anymore … There’s no why anymore …”
After
Tony came Derrick Currie with two short poems instead of a song.
The
first was called “The Growing Notion” – “When the fresh season encourages the
sprout … The lush green that nourishes both body and soul … forcing me to grasp
the notion that sometimes growth means learning you are small.”
From
Derrick’s second poem – “Let me tell you about the rules of the river … take
with you a friend, and remember it’s the journey and not the end.”
Following
Derrick was his sister, Sheila Currie, who told us she was going to sing a song
she wrote thirty-five years ago. She confessed though that she always has
trouble finding where to start. She tried, but couldn’t remember the song, so
she played instead Paul Simon’s “Duncan” – “Oh what a night, oh what a garden
of delight, even now that sweet memory lingers, I was playing my guitar, lying
underneath the stars, just thanking the lord for my fingers …” and here Sheila
adlibbed the finish when she sang – “ … my forgetful fingers.”
Then
we had poetry from Christina Keele. She told us first of all that it had been
two years since she’d been at Fat Albert’s because she’s been busy studying to
become a support worker. I’m pretty sure I saw her at Fats last year though.
She wanted to communicate with her poem how affected she’d been by the death of
David Bowie. She informed us that there was a statue erected in David Bowie’s
honour in Sarajevo, but I think it’s rather a giant mural.
From
Christina’s poem – “I’m beginning to know who David Bowie is … Daring to be
different … we admire your audacity … You were open about your sexuality …
inspiring the pride community … You pushed the boundaries of fashion … The
uniqueness of the words you wrote and the songs you sang …”
Brian
Rosen was next with a traditional folk song called “The Three Sailor Boys” –
“Oh we are three jolly, jolly sailor boys and we’re newly home from South
Amerikee with our hearts still tingling from the salt, salt wind and the tumble
and the tossing of the sea. Oh honey, I’ve a pocket full of money, will you
trip, trip, trip, will you trip it on the quay? For the wind’s in the sail and
the thunder in the gale and our good ship’s plunging to be free …”
After
Brian was Glen Gary, accompanied by Bob and Tom. Glen played Junior Parker’s
“Mystery Train” – “Train I ride, sixteen coaches long … well that long black
train took my baby and gone …”
Of
course, Glen, Tom and Bob remained on stage for Marianne Peck’s set, which this
time featured “Your Cheatin Heart” by Hank Williams. Glen started the key to
try to guide Marianne into the song, and once it was rolling he directed the
performance by indicating who would get the next solo or when Marianne should
start singing again.
Then
we heard the duo of Raymond and Brenda St Germaine. Raymond said, “Long time
ago, I sang this song.” They sang together while he played guitar. After a
verse, we could hear Tom Hamilton playing his violin from the back and then he
walked up to play along from the first row as they sang – “ … Ojibway lady,
your time’s not here it seems, those far away tomorrows will make for soft
coloured dreams …” I heard Raymond say later that Tomson Highway wrote the
song, but I don’t think that’s the case. Highway’s only venture into song
writing has been the libretto for a Cree opera. The lyrics to the country song
didn’t snag anything when I did a search online, so I don’t know who actually
wrote it.
Peter
James’s set was with the guitar this time, and with help from Tom he did one of
his own songs – “ … I know that I’m closer to the breeze … when I’m out there
having fun …” Ruth came on stage with her harmonica – “ … Somewhere on an
island … I know that I’m closer to the sea …”
With
all of the solos that assisting musicians get, I don’t know if the performers
are even remotely conscious of how much beyond the aesthetically necessary
their songs are being stretched.
The
second to last performer was Emily Coleston, accompanied by Tom. She gave us a
choice between an upbeat song or a downbeat song. I forget what people chose,
but Emily said she was said about the empty donut box, before sing a song
called “Diamonds” – “ … The day’s about to start again … You never seem to get
the message … it’s only so long before you know … diamonds are made out of coal
… If you give me your heart I’ll steal it … Don’t keep me waiting.”
Finally
and also with Tom was Elizabeth Knowlton. While they were doing her sound
check, Tom leaned towards her and in a southern U.S. accent said, “I’m
expecting a gentleman of the Confederacy”. He was starting to explain to
Elizabeth where the line was from when Glen told them to hurry it along.
Glen once again filmed Elizabeth’s performance with
his phone. From her song – “Cross the valleys and streams time is running
backward … for the blind and the dumb, ring them bells … for the chosen few …
for the time that flies, for the time that cries … breaking down the distance
between right and wrong …”
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