Rollercoaster tonight -- of Brendan Fletcher, Robin Wood, teen suicide and Playland

The Cinematheque, at 7pm tonight, is screening a remarkable, under-sung, shot-in-Vancouver drama: Rollercoaster, from 1999. No, this is not the 70's action film that the band Sparks appears in: Scott Smith's 1999 film deals with a group of troubled youth who break into an amusement park, and stars Brendan Fletcher, up there with Gabrielle Rose as one of the very finest Canadian actors to make pretty much no headway in Hollywood (okay, his role in Violent Night is pretty substantial, but he's kinda blink-and-you'll-miss-him in The Revenant, which is a shame, since he's obviously skilled with frontier adventures; just see Ginger Snaps Back, which makes far better use of him). Starring roles in Canadian films, supporting roles in American ones shot here -- it's kind of the way it goes.  

Fact is, I've followed his career much more closely than I ever intended. I even caught him in an adaptation of Equus, once -- not to mention seeing him in starring roles in multiple Uwe Boll films, most notably Rampage -- partially shot in a Maple Ridge bingo hall where I played bingo as a child with my Mom! Rollercoaster is one of his finest films, directed by Scott Smith from a story by Alex Kazemi. But oddly, despite it being shot at Playland -- the titular rollercoaster is the one all Vancouverites know -- the reason I saw the film was that it was amply praised by UK/ Ontario film critic Robin Wood. Yes, the same Robin Wood with a hate-on for Cronenberg. You can find the whole book online easily enough as a Google docs PDF, so I'm going to presume to quote liberally; the relevant section begins on page 327 of the expanded edition. Wood also riffs on the 1977 flick, which is not very good! 

Note: Stick is Fletcher's character, and Wood's warning about spoilers isn't that essential up until you get to the passage on location and cinematography. Unless you have decided to see the film already, and don't need to be sold on it, I would just soldier ahead, at least to that point. 

THE PARTY’S OVER: SCOTT SMITH’S Rollercoaster (from Robin Wood's Hollywood from Vietnam to Reagan: the rest of this writeup will be a lengthy quote): 

Even in Canada, Canadian films (unless directed by David Cronenberg, or Atom Egoyan in his later works) are categorized instantly as “small,” and I think we should ask ourselves exactly what this conveys, and by what criterion smallness or bigness can be gauged. The answer is clear: “small” here has nothing whatever to do with subject matter, quality, or ambition; it has to do exclusively with money and is yet another proof of our insidious and all-pervasive corruption by capitalist values.

I wonder how many people reading this chapter have even heard of Rollercoaster (or, perhaps, are expecting a critical exploration of the 1977 Sensurround movie of the same title, a disaster film in every sense, in which case I shall disappoint them). Scott Smith’s film is, in the common usage, “small”: its budget was not exactly enormous, and I assume its cast of six (uniformly marvelous) actors were each paid somewhat less than the $10 million nowadays taken for granted by major Hollywood stars, though they give performances as good, if not better. And the film is “merely” about teenagers, our culture’s disenfranchised, disenchanted, and desperate members, and (more specifically) about teen suicide: a “small” subject? I have to suppose it is, for most people. We read brief references to it in the newspapers, but nothing is ever done so presumably no one cares, it not occurring to them that these same teenagers (the ones who survive) represent the future of our culture. But then, does anyone care about that either?

Rollercoaster is a great movie, but its pleasures and disturbances will be spoiled for you if you haven’t seen the film before you read what follows. It is available (although not all stores bother to stock it) on both VHS and DVD in a really splendid widescreen transfer. The DVD includes a very useful Director’s Commentary and an intermittently illuminating commentary by the teenage actors.

I missed Rollercoaster in the Toronto Film Festival (2000) but attended its theatrical opening on its first day. I was the only person in the auditorium. It ran, I believe, for one week. Since then I have watched the DVD five times, seeing more on each viewing, partly thanks to certain insights derived from the commentaries. The film is not in any obvious way “difficult,” but it is rich in significant detail (a gesture here, an expression there, a throwaway line of dialogue, a camera movement, a particular use of décor). I liked the film straight away, but I attribute my initial underestimation to precisely those preconceptions about Canadian cinema that I have attacked: I suppose my attitude could have been summed up as “very good for a small Canadian movie.” So I have not avoided contamination; consequently I missed things I should have picked up on from the start. My renewed interest in the film developed out of my engagement with the American high school comedies. While noting their total refusal to confront certain crucial problems involving teenagers today (gayness, teen suicide, the frequent connection between the two), I thought suddenly of Kitchen Party and Rollercoaster, to both of which these issues are central. (One must now add Ginger Snaps, which had not then appeared, but which takes as its starting point the projected joint suicide of two sisters. It seems to me inferior—less “thought through”—than the two earlier films.) The Hollywood films belong, as a group, quite blatantly to that favorite and essential capitalist strategy of “making us all think we’re happy”; the Canadian films are oppositional and, whatever the filmmakers’ conscious intentions, can stand as a critique of their jolly American relatives. The closest American equivalent is Larry Clark’s Kids, to which Rollercoaster seems to me vastly superior on every level.

Structure 

The film’s intricate overall structure is built upon a set of interlocking structures:

1 The 24-hour time scheme. The film starts in early morning, ends in the next early morning. The effect is not mere symmetry: the “next” morning is “the morning after,” when everything has changed, and where there are glimmers of fresh hope following tragedy.

2. Weather. Shooting restrictions for this ultra-low-budget (but by no means “small”) film, shot entirely on location and outdoors, were extremely tight. That one scene—and one scene only—takes place in the rain, with all its connotations of simultaneous sorrow and purification, was apparently (to judge from the commentaries) fortuitous. It just happens that it’s the film’s pivotal scene, to which everything leads up and from which everything follows.

3. Progression A. The rides in the amusement park (within or just outside which the entire film, up to the last shot, takes place). For the first third of the film everything is shut down, static, the kids climbing on a motionless rollercoaster; in the middle section (as things start moving dramatically) the machines are turned on; when night falls, the kids turn on all the lights, start all the rides, and the park becomes a wonderland, a celebration of life (albeit a partially ironic one, in which suicide is still an option).

4. Progression B. Dramatically, the film builds up to and then beyond two parallel crises (Chloe’s, Stick’s), the two linked by disclosure, the revelation of what was previously unspoken.

4. Paradox. The most likely of the characters to commit suicide is the one who emerges strengthened; the one who seems least likely is the one who goes through with it.

Source Smith reveals in his commentary that the source of the film was a true story. Four teenagers decided to commit suicide together, as life appeared to hold nothing for them. But, when it came to the point, they found they’d run out of beer. So they drove off to a liquor store, came back, drank all the beer . . . and committed suicide. This story is told in the film by Stick, in one of its many extraordinary shots. He is standing (long shot) on the highest reach of the stationary rollercoaster, addressing his suicidal friends (with one of whom he is, potentially at least, in love). In the background is a mountain, with clouds around its peak, strongly suggesting the smoke from a latent, but about to erupt, volcano. I have been haunted by that image ever since I took serious interest in the film—by its fusion of visual beauty, precariousness, and imminent disaster. There are many such beautiful moments in the film, marking it as the work of an artist with an instinctive understanding of cinema; if this single image stands out, it is because of its duration and the lack of movement, suggestive of a contemplative pause in the film’s otherwise swift forward momentum.

Location and Cinematography 

Having made the decision to shoot virtually the entire film within an out-of-season amusement park, Smith makes dazzlingly inventive use of its potential, both visual and dramatic. Nothing is faked, there are no back projections or studio sets, the camera is up there on the rides with the kids, whether the rollercoaster and the other machines are static or in motion. The contrast with current Hollywood “action” movies couldn’t be stronger, their computer-generated unreality mercilessly exposed. The meager reviews of the film I read (polite, condescending) showed no sign of recognition of the nature or quality of Smith’s achievement. The climactic sequences, where, at nightfall, the kids turn on all the amusement park lights in a celebration of life that is partly real, partly (in the context of darkness and imminent death) ironic and valedictory, are at once exhilarating and painful. The use throughout of the various machines and other amusement park décor is consistently intelligent, never merely “colorful,” always dramatically justified: the “Zipper” in which Ben is tricked and trapped, the bumper cars in which the characters’ diverse tensions are released, the rollercoaster from which Darrin will throw himself, the hidden video “eyes” that watch from various adornments.

Stick’s Progress

It is perhaps unfair to single out Brendan Fletcher’s performance from a cast that contains no weaknesses and, under Smith’s direction, plays faultlessly as an ensemble. (One gathers from the DVD’s cast commentary, in which all six actors join, that Smith got them involved as a group before shooting started, and that they have remained friends ever since.) But Fletcher has the showiest role and plays the character who undergoes the most development; if anyone can be said to dominate the film it is he.

The subtleties with which Stick’s progress is charted may not be apparent to the casual viewer, or perhaps to anyone on first viewing. Hollywood has habituated us to the careful spelling out of plot points, seldom allowing them to be made purely visually but indeed often underlining them in the dialogue. With Stick this is impossible: the gayness which he denies to himself as much as to the world can be “spoken” only through inadvertent physical behavior, and especially through his insistent physical contact with Darrin (Kett Turton), mainly a matter of those “playful” punches that easily pass for “normal” masculine behavior among teenage boys. (Smith points out in his commentary how he tried as often as possible to connect Stick and Darrin in two-shots, one of which he describes as the “lovers on the beach” shot). This inexplicitness serves an important function: the film becomes a cunning trap for homophobic teenagers in the audience, for whom Stick, throughout the film’s first two-thirds, is the most obvious identification figure, the most seemingly extrovert, the most active, the rowdiest. When the park attendant Ben (the film’s only adult character) traps Stick in the washroom and sexually molests him, it is possible to read, carelessly, Stick’s reactions merely as a sort of paralyzed horror, Ben thereby becoming, at that point, the film’s representative of homosexuality. The tables are then turned, the trap sprung, by Stick’s subsequent revelation (the beginning of his self-acceptance).

If, however, we attend to the details of Fletcher’s remarkable performance, the stages of Stick’s progress become clear: (1) his constant “playful” provocation, and constant awareness, of Darrin, never entirely rejected; (2) the extremely complex reaction to Ben’s molestation as rendered by the actor’s face, where horror mingles with desire (in the cast commentary the actors describe him as “torn”); (3) his pathetic attempt at self-denial in abruptly “feeling up” Chloe, in whom he has previously shown not the least sign of sexual interest; (4) his crucial speech to Justin (Darrin’s younger brother), when Justin describes Ben as a “fag” (“No. I’m a fag. He fucks kids”), in the scene Smith describes as the film’s “little window of hope”; and (6) the climactic revelation of his desire, in the game in which everyone has to lie, saying the opposite of the truth (“I hate you, Darrin. I fucking hate you”—Darrin understands perfectly and turns aside).

Does this contribute to Darrin’s suicide? As with Stick, Smith refuses to spell things out for us, but the context suggests the possibility, adding to the film’s poignance and complexity. Its underlying assumption seems to be that these teenagers (including the barely teenage Justin) are at an age where sexuality has not been finally “fixed,” where there is still the possibility of flux. Darrin’s fondness for Stick is evident throughout the film (to the point where one could almost substitute “attraction to” for “fondness for”). And Darrin has already had to face Chloe’s revelations (which parallel Stick’s): that she has been sexually promiscuous, that Darrin may not be the father of her child, and that in any case the child (the pretext for the joint suicide—Chloe’s “We’re not going to bring our baby into this world”) has already been aborted. The film’s sensitivity to the confusions and fears of teenagers struggling to make sense of a harsh and hostile environment and of their places within it strikes me as a rare and valuable quality, totally lacking in the corresponding American teen comedies.

The film’s delicacy and inexplicitness is summed up in the last scene, a single-take extreme long shot. Outside the amusement park at last, the four survivors drive off. Then the car pulls up, and we see Justin get out and set off on his own, up a steep bank to the main highway. The car drives on, leaving the foreground empty, but then backs up and stops again. Stick gets out and follows Justin. The boy (apparently about thirteen) has earlier shown a mature sensitivity toward Stick, responding to his “It will be hard on you without Darrin” with “It’ll be hard on you.” Clearly, Stick has replaced Darrin as “elder brother,” and his following Justin is an acknowledgment of responsibilty accepted; there is also the possibility that Justin may grow up gay, hinted at in his readiness to accept Stick. The “little window of hope” (which refers to the possibility of supportive, positive human relations within a cruel and uncaring world) has opened a little further.

[End quote; that was all Robin Wood -- like I say, the whole book is online, so why not quote liberally?]. Rollercoaster screens tonight at the Cinematheque at 7pm. Be there? 

John Lucas, the Starling Effect, and a Modernettes / Dream Syndicate digression

John Lucas of The Starling Effect by David J. Froc

True story: I was listening to mixes for the (years-delayed) upcoming New Modernettes album and was struck between John Armstrong's songwriting -- especially re my fast favourite from the album, "Delivery Boy," which John and I had discussed in this Straight piece -- and that of Steve Wynn and the Dream Syndicate (especially re: the song "The Medicine Show" on their second album, also entitled Medicine Show). The lyrics, the pacing, the loping hint of menace, the seeming debt to American cinema of the 1950s, even the hint of a darkened Americana in the music -- it seemed the work of kindred spirits. I had not expected Armstrong to agree; turns out he's a fan of Wynn's, is well aware of the album in question, and quipped, in returning to a discussion of the parallels between Armstrong and Wynn for a feature in Big Takeover, that while Armstrong "wanted to be the Robert Mitchum of punk rock," Wynn "wanted to be the Raymond Chandler." (That conversation appears in issue 93 of the magazine, which you might be able to find in some stores still; issue 94, upcoming, will have an at-times related conversation with Armstrong's sometimes bandmate Art Bergmann, as well as the Meat Puppets' Derrick Bostrom -- the Pups also get mentioned below). 

So apropos of an upcoming release, John Lucas, of Vancouver band the Starling Effect, whom I have also written about before, shares a demo with me of a new song, "A Strange Habit of Disappearing" (available now on their bandcamp). And (maybe this is just my go-to, which I had gotten lucky with previously?), I find myself thinking of Medicine Show, though more, say, "Daddy's Girl" or maybe "Merritville" than the title track. The tone is more epic and sweeping, there's not much hint of Springsteen (who can be heard creeping into the Dream Syndicate's sound), and there's more of a spacy shoegaze quality to the music, but lyrics like "Now you're in another place/ No one knows quite where" seem very Steve Wynn-like." But the Dream Syndicate are not mentioned in the "Recommended If You Like" (RIYL) section of the press release, which relates the music to "R.E.M., My Bloody Valentine, The Cure, Swervedriver, Ride, Pink Floyd, [and] Slowdive" (coincidentally on the cover of that Big Takeover!). At the very least, the Starling Effect remind me of the Dream Syndicate more than they do The Cure or Pink Floyd. Maybe the question isn't that stupid? 

So I ask John Lucas.  His answer takes in the band's work with Felix Fung, at whose studios the two new songs were recorded (see also "Blueskiesgrey"). The following email interview took place over this past weekend. 

John Lucas of The Starling Effect (with Michael Nathanson on his left and Greg Williams on his right) by David J. Froc

AM: ...so is the Dream Syndicate totally irrelevant? Is this just me? Is there some other band we should be thinking of re: "A Strange Habit of Disappearing"?

JL: Interesting comparison! I say that because, as much as I’m ashamed to admit it, I don’t know the Dream Syndicate at all. I couldn’t actually name even one of their songs. So I couldn’t really say if I think we sound like them or not. But now that you have mentioned them, I will definitely investigate.

As we were recording, Felix would take note of other artists that he was hearing echoes of. I seem to recall that he mentioned Ride and Swervedriver, which didn’t come as a big surprise, as British shoegazing bands from the ’90s are definitely a major touchstone for me. When we were listening back after I did my vocal takes, he said “I love that Neil Diamond thing you did on that line.” The funny thing is, I knew exactly what he meant.

Felix and I bonded over our shared love for local radio institution CISL’s former incarnation as an oldies station. We both grew up hearing a lot of music that was created before our time, stuff from the ’50s and ’60s.I can’t pinpoint specifically where that might pop up in the music I’m making now, but it’s clearly still with me. For example, my wife and I recently spent a long weekend in Palm Springs, and we checked out a cool little shop called Gré Records & Coffee. Two of the records I picked up were Fifth Dimension by the Byrds and Insight Out by the Association. So, I guess jangly guitars and vocal harmonies still appeal to me.

AM: “A Strange Habit of Disappearing” is a great title – it feels like a line from a movie or novel. Is it? (I feel like I have heard this line in a few places: “He has a strange habit of disappearing when it’s time to pay the bill,” that sort of thing). Who is it in reference to? (Is the “you” of the song someone specific? Is the you you?). Tell me about the ideas and observations that went into the lyrics of this song? I particularly love the idea of someone hiding hoping someone will call their name – that conflicting impulse. I’ve known it in a bunch of people, including musicians who do things in the most perversely self-defeating way, almost like they’re testing to see if someone will make the effort to leap over the barricades they’ve constructed. I may be guilty of that myself sometimes. It’s a rich bit of psychology captured in simple lyrics – the best kind of lyric-writing, really. Where did the observation come from?

JL: I tend to employ a lot of metaphors and other poetic devices in my lyrics, but that song is entirely about me, and it’s fairly literal. When I was a kid I used to like hiding, and I preferred to do so in small, dark places, like inside a closet or wardrobe. I would stay in my hiding spot long after my parents noticed that I had disappeared and it was clear that they were looking for me.

I can’t really explain the reasons behind this behaviour. It might have been a response to some of the messier family dynamics in the home where I grew up. I might have wanted to disappear as a way to be one less problem, while simultaneously craving the feeling that someone cared enough to come searching for me.

In the song, I mention doing this during a birthday party, but that part was embellished a bit. It was actually a Halloween party at my house with a bunch of my classmates. I didn’t really hide; I just went off into another room and stayed there, doing my own thing for most of the party. I was a weird kid!

I don’t do this anymore, of course. But I do have a bit of an odd aversion to being noticed. It might seem perverse that I have always chosen jobs or hobbies that put me in the spotlight in some way, whether that’s being a bylined music journalist or playing in a band. I want people to appreciate my work, of course, but at the same time I feel ambivalent about being noticed too much. Yes, “perverse” is probably the best word for that. Remember in A Hard Day’s Night, when the reporter asks Ringo if he’s a mod or a rocker? Ringo replies, “Um, no, I’m a mocker.” I suppose if you asked me, “Are you an introvert or an extrovert?” I would have to say “Um, no. I’m a pervert.” Ha!

John Lucas of The Starling Effect by David J. Froc

AM:  You mention in the press release that these songs were really a collaborative venture, but who wrote what? Are all lyrics yours?

I wrote all the lyrics, yes, and the vocal melodies. But I’m not a “songwriter,” per se. I never sit down with an acoustic guitar and write a song outside of the band context. Most of our musical ideas and arrangements come from working on things in our rehearsal space, collectively. Each member writes his own parts. For example, I give Greg [Williams] full credit for all of the guitar hooks on “A Strange Habit of Disappearing.”

AM: “Blueskiesgrey” would be great music to zone out to – it reminds me of recovering from surgery with my headphones on, spaced on painkillers, listening to Skylarking. Lots of texture and depth. Very psychedelic solo too – there's a solo that reminds me of something the Meat Puppets would do at their spaciest, but I don’t know if you’re a Kirkwood fan? What do you imagine that the ideal listening circumstances for a song like this would be? When you record a song, do you ever imagine the audience? (I’ve only ever seen you at the Princeton and this is just too big, too good, too nuanced for that space).

JL: We have always tried to create a lot of atmosphere, for a lack of a better word, with our music. In the past few years we have had to figure out how to do so as a four-piece, since our former guitarist, tundra, left the Starling Effect. An absolute master of tone and texture, tundra had to step away from the band for health reasons.

We love the venues that we usually play, like the Princeton and LanaLou’s. Great vibes in both of those spaces, like playing for friends in someone’s rec room. Really inspiring energy. I do think, on the other hand, that it’s really hard to capture the full spectrum of what we do in small pubs, especially ones where the vocals are the only thing miked and everything else is just plug-in-and-play.

We happily play shows like that all the time, but our material would arguably be better suited to a small theatre setting; somewhere that is still intimate but allows for a more sonically expansive approach. The fact is, of course, that we don’t quite have enough of a following to play soft-seaters or even bigger clubs. On that score, I sort of envy Greg, who plays in the wildly—and deservedly—popular Pink Floyd tribute band Crazy Diamonds. They regularly play theatres like the Hollywood and the Rio, and they’ve even played the Planetarium a couple of times.

The Meat Puppets never really get their due when people look back at the bands of their era. They tend to get overlooked, in spite of Kurt Cobain’s attempts to raise their profile. In fact, just yesterday someone (whose identity I will protect lest she face the wrath of Kirkwood fans) told me that “Plateau” is her favourite Nirvana song.

John Lucas of The Starling Effect by David J. Froc

AM: In the RIYL, you mention REM, and I actually was thinking of REM at one point while listening to these, and then DISMISSED that thought – “why the hell am I thinking they relate to REM?” And then they’re mentioned, so like, clearly I was hearing something, but what? How does REM relate to your playing/ songwriting/ music?

This might shed some light into how I synthesize my influences. I am a huge R.E.M. fan, and have been since I was about 14. Peter Buck in particular has had a profound influence on me. But I don’t sound anything like him, and I don’t try to play the way he plays or write parts that I think he would write.

I’m the same way with all of my other influences. For example, I love J. Mascis, and I even own both of his signature Jazzmasters (the Fender one and the Squier one), but I have never tried to play the way he does.

Now, the thing with both Buck and Mascis is that their styles and tones are so uniquely their own that you can tell who’s playing within just a few notes. And I think that’s the inspiration that I take away from them. I want to do what they do—create a singular, individual sound—without playing what they play.

Lyrically, I do draw inspiration from Michael Stipe, especially the R.E.M. stuff from the IRS years, when he was using imagery from his dreams and fragments of childhood memories as a source for his writing.

AM: I like that you’ve included a lyric sheet in your promo materials and know how rare that is for bands/ musicians to do. Is this something that you’re doing because of your own experience as a journalist? (Did you often find yourself wishing bands had given you a lyric sheet?). Does having had a career as a music writer help or hinder you in promoting yourself?

I included the lyrics because I have been told that it’s really hard to understand what I’m singing. While I have a great appreciation for artists who make no attempt to have their lyrics easily decipherable, we can’t all be My Bloody Valentine.

Yes, as a music journalist I always found it useful to be able to refer to the lyrics when interviewing an artist. And I actually found that many of them really appreciated my attempts to glean the meanings behind their songs, even if I wasn’t always completely on the mark. Apparently there are a lot of journalists who aren’t interested in delving that deep, and it can make things pretty boring to be asked the same questions over and over again.

I think that having been a journalist has been helpful, but not as helpful as my experience working in PR and marketing. Probably the most helpful thing, though, has been my occasional freelance sideline writing bios for other artists. That made me really think, “If I didn’t know anything about this artist, what would I want to find out, from a journalist’s perspective?” I write really good bios, by the way, and my rates are quite reasonable!

AM:  Are you active as a writer since you mostly stopped with the Straight? I mostly do Montecristo, Big Takeover, and my blog. Are you finding it more desirable to focus on your own music than other people’s?

I’m a copywriter in the marketing department of a tech company. So I do a lot of writing, but my name is never on any of it.

I have written a few arts pieces on a freelance basis for the Straight, and I sometimes write for Stir, which of course was started by former Straight staff. So, I do keep my hand in.

I do miss writing about music on a regular basis, especially with the way concert ticket prices have been skyrocketing in recent years. I really miss those comp tickets and guest-list privileges!

Are these advance singles for an album – do you have bigger plans – or just two songs for the time being?

We actually recorded the bass and drums for two other songs while we were at Little Red Sounds, and the plan is to go back and finish them, possibly in the fall. That will be another two-song single. We will be playing those songs at our April 19 show at the Princeton.

There’s a possibility that if we do a few more of these digital singles, we will eventually compile them into an album, or at least an EP. I would love to put something out on vinyl. I recently dusted off the name of my old indie label, Submerged Records, so maybe we will put out an actual record at some point.

AM: If John Armstrong wants to be the Robert Mitchum and Steve Wynn wants to be the Raymond Chandler, who would YOU like to be?

This is a hard question to answer without coming across as a pretentious twat, but I’m going to go with Chris Ware. He has a way of delivering an emotional gut-punch in a way that’s still funny. And he’s so precise. His work can be visually complex, but it’s also clean, with each detail rendered without so much as a line or a dot where there doesn’t need to be one.

I’m no cartoonist, but I aspire to be like the Chris Ware of indie rock, to create work that is emotionally impactful but still entertaining, delivered in a way that is aesthetically rich without being overwrought.

AM: Anything we should say about live shows coming up? I see you played a Green Auto show with We Found a Lovebird – how did that go? It seems like a good pairing, which has nothing to do with the birds in both your band names, but…

That was at the Princeton. Actually, we have never played at Green Auto, but we are certainly open to it.

We Found a Lovebird is great. We’ll play with them again any time. The bird thing was just a happy coincidence. We also played with Bloom Effect last year—at their first-ever gig, actually. Aaron Trory was also on the bill, and we tried to convince him to bill himself as “The Aaron Trory Effect” for the evening. To no effect.

Our next show is at the Princeton on April 19. It will be us along with Hotel Empress and Pontiac. It should be a fun night!

After that, who knows? Nothing else on the calendar at the moment. We will consider any reasonable offer of a gig!

See here for another current feature on the Starling Effect; gig details here! 

Alex Garland's Civil War: must-see

Erika and I were both gripped by Alex Garland's Civil War today. We highly recommend it; it's powerful, relevant, and utterly compelling, and probably the most important film Garland has yet been involved with -- including his work with Danny Boyle, though 28 Days Later certainly gives Civil War some competition. Garland's last two films as director, Annihilation and Men, were exceedingly strange affairs; I didn't much like the former and rather loved the latter, but was ill-prepared for how gritty and reality-based Civil War is by comparison; if Men is a bit strange-for-its-own-sake at times, revels in its own excessive weirdness, Civil War is very disciplined, very focused, and feels very, very real, speculative fiction though it may be. 

The premise is simple: the United States has been divided by war, with Texas and California leading the secession; there are violent uprisings everywhere. A group of journalists (led by a fine Kirsten Dunst, playing a photographer who shares a name with Lee Miller) travel through war-torn cities en route to Washington DC, where they hope to interview the president. Many things happen en route. Knowing more is not in your interests as a viewer -- just trust me.

The film, of course, purports to be about journalism, and war photography in particular, but no one will be looking for a story about that when they enter the theatre; rather, they will of course flock to it with the Trump Problem in their minds -- imagining horrifying futures that may well come to pass. Probably that is the real meat of the film, but Garland is not interested in direct commentary or any real-world partisanship; making an anti-Trump propaganda film, for example -- even making the besieged president a recognizable caricature of Trump -- would not serve the film well, ultimately. There is probably wisdom in this; so whatever commentary on real wounds in America is present in the film, its disguised a bit, even given improbable expression in the film's fictive world. For instance, in what version of an American insurrection would Texas and California be allies?  

Still, even if that subtext is really the main text of the film, Civil War is nonetheless an excellent, dramatic depiction of photojournalists at work -- which is not a subject I've seen represented often; I missed The Bang Bang Club, don't remember The Killing Fields or Under Fire (isn't there a photojournalist in both of those?) and haven't seen Salvador since I was a teenager. 

Civil War stands alone among them, head and-shoulders the best of the bunch. Gripping, terrifying. There are some very intense battle scenes, a couple of upsetting death scenes -- be prepared for something powerful (also including depictions of racist violence, note); but take my advice, don't miss this film. See it theatrically, if you can.

 It's great.

Jon Card 101: from Suburban Slag to Subhumans Canada, with a few stops in-between (2006 and 2008 interviews)

Jon Card at the Lamplighter, with the Subhumans, October 13th, 2006. Photo by Allan MacInnis

Being a big Subhumans fan, between the recording of New Dark Age Parade (2006) and Same Thoughts Different Day (2010), I interviewed all members of the Subhumans separately on more than one occasion. When my conversations with the band started, I had only been writing for a couple of years, so I didn't really know what I was doing, and I transcribed things I didn't ultimately use (though I skipped a few chunks here and there). Hearing the news that Jon Card had died, I went back through my old files and, lo and behold, I found two interviews with pieces not previously published; not sure where the tapes for these are -- yes, I was using a cassette recorder! -- but the portions that are transcribed should make for interesting reading. You can also read my gig report from the Lamplighter show here (the first time I saw the Subhumans, unless you count Brian and the kids who played the Vancouver Complication gig with him). There are also old features I did, using some of the material with Card here, which is a shortened version of what's below, and (tho' it's really more of a show review, of the final Subhumans gig) here. 

I didn't actually write all my questions out so, without access to the tapes, some of them have been reconstructed based on the answers ("Now what the hell had I asked him?"). You'll notice that I had no idea about Personality Crisis back in 2006 (I had only heard "Piss On You" off the BYO comp). 

Apologies to Gerry Hannah: we talk about him a bit, dig up some past history that I'm guessing he doesn't need dug up. But I was keen on that stuff back then, and it was interesting to hear Card's stories! 

Jon was a big talent and personality; my condolences to all those missing him now -- 63 is way too young. I really enjoyed these interviews and am glad I got to see Card with most of the bands mentioned below. If you've somehow missed New Dark Age Parade, it's got some amazing songs on it (and a few I am less wild about, but the best songs on it are some of the best songs the Subhumans ever wrote -- "Moving Forward," for instance...). 

AM: So how did you get started in music?

JC: Actually, I started with a junior high school band, if you want the whole story. I started piano then oboe. But I got braces, and they needed a drummer... [I did not transcribe all of Jon's answer]. My first real band was Plasticine; we changed our name to Suburban Slag [soon to be the subject of a Supreme Echo reissue!] then saw Personality Crisis play in Calgary. And they were from Winnipeg and they said from the stage, hey our drummer’s quitting, anyone wanna -- just kinda half-kidding, right? Boom, three weeks later, I show up in Winnipeg. “Here I am.” That was the first real good band I was in. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them. It was a really, really great band, actually 

AM: I don't know them well. I know "Piss On You." [note: along with the Pointed Sticks and the Modernettes, this is one of many Canadian bands reissued on Porterhouse]

JC: We did a record on Risky Records, San Francisco, and we toured – I went down and that’s when I first kinda hooked up first with Jello Biafra, played with – oh hell, it was just like a dream come true, right 20 year old kid down there...! Our first show was playing with FEAR the Elite Club, which is the old Filmore West. Y’know, I’m just goin’ wow... This guy had connections, the record label guy, at that point we got the prime slots right before the headliner. We played with Circle Jerks, Bad Brains, Dead Kennedys, Minor Threat, you name it, right.

AM: When was this?

JC: In about 82, 83, it was when our record came out, it was called Creatures for Awhile; it came out in 83.

AM: Around the time the Subs were breaking up.

JC: Yeah. My first band I ever played with, Suburban Slag, we used to rehearse in my parents basement, that whole thing, right? And we got kicked out, so we ended up rehearsing in school parking lots, because like people plug in their block heaters in Calgary – it’s real cold – so we rehearsed outside and that was kinda fun...but we played with the Subhumans at the old Calgarian hotel, that was where I met them. I was a huge fan. So that was my first connection with the Subhumans.

AM: Was Brian your entry point into DOA?

JC: Yeah, we were in the band together, before then and during then and even now. He’s one of my best friends, so that’s kinda cool. DOA is the first time we played music together. We actually played in the Deadcats together, and a few other projects, like Linda McCrae... Brian and I kinda have done a lot of stuff together, uh, the old rhythm section – the Card /Goble rhythm section, we call it.

AM: I didn't know you were in the Deadcats! 

JC: I was in and out of the band a bunch of times and Brian was in for a stint, 'cos I just went, come on, let’s throw a bass in here, the gutbucket’s cool, but... so he did about 15 gigs with us.

AM: Speaking of bass, I just was speaking  with Gerry. Jeez, that guy can talk! 

JC: Tell me about it! At rehearsal – we play a song and then it’s like Gerry’s oratory for 10-15 minutes on whatever, right?... The guy’s got it – the gab! It’s funny.

AM: It's such an extreme contrast with Mike Graham, who is one of most reluctant interviews I've done...

JC: Even getting some volume out of him is tough, but his guitar playing and songwriting is the total opposite, he just rips.

Mike Graham by Allan MacInnis, Lamplighter 2006

AM: You have a take on Warren Kinsella's animosity towards Gerry? 

JC: Yeah, it seems like he’s drawing more attention to himself than anything else. He’s a – I knew him back when he was in the Hot Nasties. I don’t know if I ever played a gig with him in my first punk band, but I saw them play, they saw us play, and even back then there was divisions amongst the punk scene, and no one liked the Hot Nasties and no one liked Warren Kinsella, for obvious reasons. He’s a prick!

AM: One does get that impression. 

JC: Yeah, I saw him perform a couple of times. Actually, one time they played with 999, I think it was, and the Dickies were supposed to open up, which would’ve been awesome. Everyone wanted to see the Dickies and 999, but the Dickies couldn’t get across the border or something like that, and  his band the Hot Nasties they went and played under a different name, and you’ve never seen so much abuse thrown at a band, it was quite something... And he was just like wallowing in it, like YES, I created punk rock kinda attitude kinda thing.

AM: [I ask something about Warren's more slanderous characterizations of Gerry]

JC: Yeah... He had a small little faction – his band and some of his mates... but I didn’t hang out with them much. We talked and stuff like that but he was just a little too condescending, for me – y’know, I’m not gonna sit here and badmouth him or anything like that, he’s never done anything to me, but that’s bullshit.

AM: You had some history with the Five, right?  

JC: Well I was actually – it’s kinda funny. I was living in Vancouver on and off at the time, and I was living in a house at the plaza, the restaurant next door was bugged, the house was probably bugged. I’m probably on tape with the RCMP back then – definitely I am – and, y’know, Ken Lester was living there and a friend of mine was living there and he was making the bumper stickers “REFUSE THE CRUISE” and all that stuff, right, so I was kinda in there hanging out with their staunch supporters, kinda thing...

This was before the arrest and during the arrest, actually, it was like when it was all happening and it was – I remember a CBC Helicopter. I was sleepin’ on the couch and I look out the window and there’s a helicopter with a camera and I’m sitting there waving at it, and it was the CBC news! I was kinda there and my opinion of it... I think goin’ as far as taking down a Brinks truck, that’s over the line, y’know, in my opinion, but they were doing what they believed in, and right or wrong, that stands for something. Jeez, I don’t know what I can say. I was hanging out with all their supporters so I was just kinda goin’ along... and I didn’t know anyone with Gerry at the time, and I can’t say I was friends with him or anything like that, and I really didn’t really know a whole lot about what they were doing, I just knew the big things like the Litton bombing, why they did it. At that point I didn’t know that anyone got hurt or anything like that, so I said, if these guys are doing something and taking on the big war machine in pieces, I think that’s kinda cool, but I’m not in for terrorizing other people or hurting other people, and the Brinks truck – that’s over the top...

AM: Were you politically active?  

JC: I was a little bit of an activist, being in DOA ... I expressed my opinions on lots of things, and I wasn’t exactly on the same page as say, Dave Gregg or Joey, but a lot of times we agreed. But I was a bit of an activist, cos I played a lot of benefits for a lot of these things, and that was sort of my part – “I’ll give up my time musically if I believe in what these people are fighting for.” And if I don’t, then count me out, kind of thing, so obviously I played a lot of benefits for a lot of different things, Amnesty, you name it, all the way down the line.

AM: Any causes in particular you remember?

JC: You couldn’t buy really cold beer anywhere in them days... [laughs]. Nah, I just... I wasn’t really prepared for bringing this down, I’d actually have to sit down and think. Like Gerry, he can press a button and boom, he can go, but I’d have to actually sit down and think about it.

Gerry Hannah at the Lamplighter, 2006

AM: Were you writing songs? 

JC: Yeah, I wrote with Personality Crisis, I wrote some with SNFU. With DOA, it’s tough getting in there with Joey’s songwriting. Brian was allowed to write a few songs. But I’m more of an arranger. I help to arrange, accent... I help with dynamics, even introducing a different time signature to DOA, that was kinda fun one time, cos like I say I can read charts and all that stuff – which I throw aside, because I just play by ear and with my heart. So yeah, I’ve written some songs, but with the Subhumans, just music, arranging on this album [New Dark Age Parade].

AM: Did you do any other Subhumans songs besides "Fuck You" with DOA? 

JC: We did "Slave to my Dick," those two.

AM: So you know those two from before.

JC: Oh, yeah. Slightly different arrangements. And actually, we did another Mike Graham song, "Behind the Smile." That was for a movie (Terminal City Ricochet). DOA recorded their version of it, which I think was a pretty good version. We did that and "No Productivity." We were on that soundtrack, so there’s a couple more Subhumans songs. I think we did them live, maybe, a couple of times, but "Slave to my Dick" and "Fuck You" were some of the big closers for DOA at that time, they just happened to be Subhumans songs.

AM: Do you have favourite Subhumans songs? 

JC: Oh, shit, I like a whole bunch of them. I’m really happy to be playing them. Those guys say they’re a little sick of the back catalogue, me I’m just laughin’ it up, I love playin’ this shit, right. I like "Inquisition Day," that’s fun to play, it’s real simple. Some of the new stuff is great to play. It’s my drum part, that’s kind of nice. I tip my hat to Jim Imagawa and Randy Bowman. I play the songs close to what especially Jim did, and then I’ll throw my own little flavour in there, so... I like what he did. “Urban Guerrillas” is actually a fun song to play. “Fuck You’s" always fun, it’s a crowd pleaser. I like ‘em all!

AM: Can we talk about the mix of personalities in the band?

JC:  Well, like I said, Brian, he’s a close friend, so I know Brian very well, we’re tight as friends. You said it. Mike’s really quiet, his sense of humour – he’s got a sense of humour going, he’s got a good sense of humour, and Gerry, you nailed it too, the guy’s a machine. There’s different personalities, and, um, we’re on the same page in a lot of places and in a lot of places we’re not, so it’ll be an interesting tour. It’s not a very long one. We’ve already done a little short stuff and it was fine travelling, no problem. 

 

Brian bursts from Gerry's chest

AM: Any hopes for future tours?

JC: Obviously with Gerry’s record, he’s not going to be going to the states, I don’t think, ever. He might be able to get a pardon. There’s an opportunity, possibly... The Pointed Sticks just went to Japan, and one of the bands that opened for them, one of the shows, they’re doing cover songs of old Vancouver punk bands – the Subhumans, Tim Ray...

AM: Yeah! Liquid Screen. Where did you hear about this?

JC: I know Nick really well. I’m in Frank Frink with him...

AM: Oh, of course, right. What Subhumans songs were Liquid Screen covering? 

JC: Shit, they told me and I can’t remember, but I thought that was really cool, so I’d like to see Joey on Sudden Death put out the reissue Subhumans stuff, but I think it’s already been promised to G7. So um, I think he had the connection with that. I could be wrong, I don’t know. But that would be fun, but Gerry’s gonna have to go out and get pardoned, if he’s going to go anywhere. We’ve talked about this before and it sucked, but we’re gonna have to get another bass player, if we’re gonna go play the States.

AM: Will we see any alumni at the upcoming Vancouver show? [This question is a hail-mary reconstruction; I'm actually not sure which show we were talking about]. 

JC: Jim I’m not sure about. He was asked to do this, and he wasn’t into it. Randy Bowman, he’s a really good friend of mine as well, he’s been in a ton of bands and he’s working, he’s got a kid, and he’s playing in the BTUs and, uh... he’s in a couple of bands. He’s still drumming, he’s a good pal. We hang out. I went to his birthday party last year, so... I don’t think he was asked. I don’t know, don’t quote me on that. [I didn't, at the time, but we're almost 20 years later, so...]

AM: Any past history with Dimwit we should talk about?

JC: Oh yeah, sure. Great drummer. I’m actually using the old Dimwit drumkit. When he was in DOA he had got another kit, took his kit for sale at drums only. I went in, and it’s a gorgeous Milestone kit, a custom kit, so that’s kind of neat, the original drummer, I’m using his kit. I’m actually friends with his brother, Bob Montgomery, and then I know Biscuits too, of course. Yeah, Dimwit, great drummer. I enjoyed his company. He was in Frank Frink too.

AM: I'm not clear on the timelines -- did you replace him in DOA after he died? Was that when you came on board?

JC: He was actually still alive when he left DOA, he was in the Four Horsemen, and they were doing actually quite well, they had just signed a new record deal and everything looked just awesome, and since then, he passed on and the singer was in a motorcycle accident and I don’t think he’s living either. So Dimwit died. They had a guy named Kerr Belliveau (as drummer) for a very short point, I came out, I left SNFU, and then Kerr was a drummer for a month, maybe three weeks. They were working on True North Strong and Free and they asked me to join, so they let Kerr go. He’s a friend too, he’s a good drummer and stuff, but I guess I would’ve fit the bill cos I was a better hockey player, I dunno.

AM: How many times have you toured across Canada?

JC: Lost count. 20. More. I dunno. I like touring, y’know. You gotta get a good vehicle, all right, so you’re not worried about it breakin’ down. I could go on for hours about DOA stories and stuff (laughs). But I enjoy touring. Playing to a different crowd every night, meetin’ new people...Personally I like to play every gig like it’s my last one, which it could be, people drop all the time, right, so I like to go out and put on a really good show and have my fun onstage and get the job done and have some fun offstage too.

AM: It must be fun touring through Calgary. 

JC: Oh yeah. I had a big Jon Card support group there when we played last year. It was great seein’ some old friends and we played a sold out show and I’m sure it’ll be the same this time around, too. I don’t know if Warren’s gonna show up, but I’ll say hi from you.

AM: Speaking of the Pointed Sticks, do you ever tour through Japan, these days, or tour other places?You played Germany with DOA, right? 

JC: I’ve been to Europe with DOA and been through every state several times with DOA and Personality Crisis and SNFU. For awhile there I was coming through town with a new band just about every second year. I felt like a real drum slut or hired gun. But I was really fortunate playing in a lot of good bands.

I was born in Germany, so it was very cool when I went back and played there. It was an air force deal, I was born in Zweibrücken and lived in Kaiserslautern, so yeah, I’ve been to Europe with DOA, haven’t been to Japan.

AM: Any insight into what it would take for Gerry to tour Japan?

JC: Apparently there’s this process to do this, but apparently he has to go to the Japanese embassy, say look, I did my time, I’m very sorry, dadadadah, I don’t know what he has to say, and it’s up to them. Even without Gerry, I’d love to go there and actually I talked to Fat Mike from NOFX and he thought that would be a pretty cool idea, because he was a Subhumans fan back in the day and now, and it’s funny, because he knows the other Subhumans from England and I think they actually have a record on their label, so it’s weird. We might do a gig, Subhumans vs the Subhumans, do a show together sometime. [None of that ever happened, note. END INTERVIEW ONE!]

 
Jon Card Interview #2: August 17 2008: This interview took place shortly after a North Vancouver gig, which I was at, also featuring the Rebel Spell. After the show, I had a conversation with Mike, Brian, and Gerry in the parking lot at Seylynn; at one point, Jon -- who was waiting for the guys in the band's vehicle -- chucked a beer can at us: not in a "trying to hit us" kinda way, but an impatient, "come-on-let's-go" kind of way. He might have had a few? 

The thing was, I would have been HAPPY to have had Jon on tape during that conversation. Maybe one of the other members had asked him to stand down, but it seems more likely that Jon just figured he wasn't welcome -- that maybe he thought I only wanted to talk only to founding members? But I regarded him as a real member of the Subhumans, at that point, even if he wasn't one of the original guys. So the following, chunks of which ran in The Skinny, was meant to compensate for that, in case he had felt like he was being excluded. Chris Walter's book on Personality Crisis was just coming out around then, and there was a booklaunch at the Cobalt (the last time I saw the Subhumans there, I think). 

AM: Tell me about the first time you saw the Subhumans?

JC: I was a huge Subhumans fan, and I’d been going down to the Calgarian to catch punk acts from out of town and locally. We [Suburban Slag] had played there before, but Subhumans were coming, and I made sure I went down and talked to the owner and said, ‘We have to get on this bill.’ I went down during the day and I met Wimpy and Gerry; I don’t know if I hung out with Jim Imagawa much, but I hung out in their hotel room and I got to meet the guys in the Subhumans and I was thrilled, and smoked a bunch of black hash with them, and then we ended up playing... I can’t remember how many nights we played with them, but it was their slot at the Calgarian and we backed them up. That was great. Cable 10 Calgary came down and they were doing punk acts. I don’t know if they did Suburban Slag or not - they didn’t air it, but they aired the Subhumans. I got a copy of that, and it’s actually pretty good sound quality and everything - the original Subhumans playing at the Calgarian. Brian’s got a copy of it, and I’ve got a copy of it somewhere. [Actually someone has put the show on Youtube]

AM: So you joined Personality Crisis after a gig at the Calgarian?

JC: Yep, it was after that. I don’t know what they say in the book. I got there late, and I only ended up seeing Personality Crisis, either half a set, or one and a half sets. I can’t really remember, but they were a great band. They were different from anything I’d seen at the Calgarian. And then from the stage I heard Mitch say, ‘yeah, we’re lookin’ for a drummer!’ At that point, I had real shitty job, and I did not like my job and I wanted to play music. I figured, ‘Hey, I like this band, and if they really need a drummer, I’m willing to pack up my little Mustang, throw my drums in the back, and drive to Winnipeg.' So I gave’em a copy of the Suburban Slag demo tape, talked to them briefly. Later on, I sort of hurt myself at work - I actually semi-blinded myself with some lime. I was mixing plaster, and POOM it shot up into my eye, and I went, ‘This job REALLY sucks, now.’ And then it happens that that night, Mitch phones me and goes, ‘Yeah, we’re still looking for a drummer. And I said, ‘Yeah, I’ll come out.’ He didn’t think I was gonna come out - I was, like, 19 years old or something like that - so I just said, ‘I’m going out.’ I loaded up my car and drove out there, and lo and behold - I was there, and we rehearsed, and it worked. That was the first real good band I was in. It was a really, really great band, actually. From there, I went on to SNFU, to DOA, and then a bunch of bands, and the Subhumans now.

We actually based ourselves out of Calgary for awhile. Richard left - he was our bass player. He ended up being the guitar player later.

AM: Thoughts on Chris Walter? You knew him from Winnipeg, right?

JC: Yeah, he was totally into the punk scene, and so was I. He was in the Vacant Lot, I think his band was at that time, with his brother Jamie - he’s a good friend, too. So I hung out with Chris back then, experimented with different substances, and drank a lot of beer. I always liked Chris... He hasn’t changed that much, it’s really weird: he’s clean, but some people on/ off drugs are essentially the same person. Unless you’re freaking out trying to get money for drugs; that’s a different story...

AM: It surprises me a little that even though he's clean, Chris seems totally comfortable hanging out around the Cobalt and such. Wouldn’t most people who get off booze and hard drugs want to distance themselves as much as possible from their old habits and haunts? 

JC: You can’t understand why, because you haven’t done it, but - I’ve done lots of drugs, too, and I work right in the middle of the downtown eastside. I work the night shift, three nights a week, twelve hour shifts, in a nine-bed care facility, and it’s me and a nurse, and people who are just out of the hospital, but not well enough to go home. They’re being treated with antibiotics, fighting infection. This is ninety five percent of them. I manage the place and do everything the nurses don’t do - serving them, giving them meals, keeping the place clean. If people need housing, we find housing for them. And one hundred percent of the people are there because of drugs, and are using drugs while they’re there. I’m around it all the time. It takes awhile, but once you get past certain urges, and physical and psychological needs, and get your head around what you’re doing, it almost gives you strength, in some ways, to be around it. I’m speaking for myself - I can’t really speak for Chris.

AM: So tell me about your work there; what do you and Brian do? Does it relate to getting people off drugs, or...?

JC: What we do is damage control. The person, if they’re going to get off it, they have to be ready to do it. They can’t be forced to do it, unless they do it like they do in Iran - they throw their army guys who are hooked on it in a hole and make them kick. But someone’s got to be ready to do it, and if they’re they’re ready, there are facilities out there for them. There are detoxes and rehab centers. 

But basically a lot of it is damage control: ‘okay, you’re going to be using, so let’s just try to keep you with clean utensils, so you’re not passing on HIV or whatever, you’re not using rusty needles - keeping you alive. So you you don’t have to shoot up behind a Smithrite, you can go into a clean facility. As far as getting people off it, there are facilities, but people have to make the decision themselves.

AM: What can readers do to help people in that situation?

JC: Have an open mind. Just have an open mind.

AM: There must be a fair bit of burnout in the  job. 

JC: Depending on where I’m working - I’ve worked at the Portland Hotel, the Washington, the Sunrise, the Regal, Jackson, CTCT(?) - it can be stressful. Depending on where you work, and what happens on your shift - you’re getting yelled at and being called all sorts of names by people who you’re actually helping. It gets a little frustrating, at times. You gotta have a sense of humour, and you gotta have some compassion going for you. I’ve felt very stressed out after some shifts, definitely. I used to work a lot, though. Like, right now I’m on fulltime, so I’m only allowed to work X number of hours. That’s to help people not get stressed out, of course. But I haven’t taken any sick days in a year and a half, personally, so it seems to be working for me. But yeah, at the end of three days, I’m ready for a break, definitely.

AM: Do you and Brian compare notes much?

JC: Usually the day before I’m coming in, I’ll phone up and go, ‘hey, what’s happening,’ which is great, because I know Brian really well and he can totally give me ‘the skinny’ on what’s going on: if we’ve got new people in, if people have been discharged, if there’s been a fight. And when we get together, work always comes up... There’s so many people who need help, especially in the mental health area. There’s not enough beds - not even close! It’s insane. There’s just not the money or resources, and the Olympics coming up is a perfect example of money being misused. 

One example: I was with the Frank Frink Five playing a wedding a few weeks ago, and I ended up meeting a woman who works for Strathcona Mental Health. She was interviewing over one hundred people, and there’s only four beds in this facility - four beds for a hundred people! And these are for the people who are actually seeking help; there’s so many who aren’t. Even the safe injection site... a lot of people go, ‘Oh, they’re basically just helping the drug users,’ but they don’t realize what the nurses do down there. People downtown have so many different skin conditions - they have so many different afflictions, and their legs are basically rotting off their bodies. So the nurses do dressing changes on wounds. If they stopped what they were doing, maybe one tenth of the people would get help. These people would have to go to walk-in clinics and wait hours and hours to get help, and possibly get it, possibly not. You get some people that are coming in that are completely abusing the system and they don’t follow the rules and they’re not really being compliant, at all. But generally people are; they’re getting their treatments, and they don’t want to lose their leg or whatever the case may be. Just about every shift, I get a ‘hey man, thanks a lot for what you’re doing.’

AM: Brian talks about it a bit in "People of the Plague." [Note: there's a clip of the band playing this at Pub 340 where I'm clearly visible, in my old Subhumans shirt (see the bald guy on the right, below). This was the gig where Gerry dedicated "Moving Forward" to me (I'd griped that someone should force Brian to learn the lyrics to that one, which are a mouthful]. He calls it the curse of "rotting feet." Chris calls it "street feet." That's an amazing song. 

JC: Great song. I love playing that, and the lyrics are just fantastic.

AM: If we could talk about DOA for a second, any memories from the "Takin' Care of Business" video shoot? 

JC: That was fucking fun, getting to hang out with Randy and hear his stories - who else has Randy Bachman as your hockey coach, and you take on the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and win the game? [The gig portions of the video shoot were at the old Boy’s Club, where original Subhumans (and later DOA drummer) Ken “Dimwit” Montgomery used to live] then the hockey was at Britannia. We had a guy with a camera skating around in a wheelchair, so we could get some of the follow shots and stuff” [apparently also a technique lifted from the movie Slapshot]. The stick down the team, we definitely lifted that from Slapshot, too. The old milkjug, which represented the Stanley Cup, just happened to be in the room. I picked it up and started shaking it and we passed it around. Beer went flying, and Randy got soaked... He was such a great sport, such a great guy to work with.

AM: Hockey was one of the selling points on getting you to leave SNFU and join DOA, right? 

JC: Yes. I play hockey, and they had a team, the Murder Squad, and we ended up playing lots of games. We played CFOX, and some other radio stations and newspapers, and raised money for the food bank. One time, we had over two hundred people in the crowd, totally supporting us - we were like the home team, playing CFOX, and Bruce Allen was their coach. They were losing this game - we ended up winning all the games except one against CFOX. Anyhow, Bruce had ‘Bruce Allen Talent Agencies,’ right? So the crowd started chanting ‘Bruce Allen - Get Some Talent!’ ...I think it was Art Bergmann who actually started it, and he was with Bruce Allen at the time. Bruce Allen has this little baldspot on the top of his head and someone who was in the stands told me, it started getting redder and redder...

AM: Am I correct that you did a brief return stint with DOA last year? 

JC: The Subhumans weren’t doing anything, and Joe phoned me up. It was a blast. The songs came back really fast, and it brought back a lot of really good memories, and Joey and I had time to - I won’t say kiss and make up, but he actually apologized for the way a few things came out in the book [I, Shithead] and a few other things: it was all water under the bridge, and we shook and had a great time.

AM: I know we've talked about it before, but tell me a bit more about Dimwit's kit?

JC: This is a beautiful kit - it’s a Milestone kit with Rogers and Ludwig hardware, so it’s basically custom-made. Dimwit had several different drumkits, and this one was one of the coolest; he ended up trading this one in at Drums Only. When I joined DOA, I had this Ludwig set. It was a great set of drums, but they were smaller drums; it had a 22” bass drum, and I wanted a 24. Instead of a 16” floor tom, I wanted an 18. I wanted bigger tubs for DOA: big band, big guys, big drums, this is what Joe was saying, and I went along with that. We went into Drums Only, and I see this silver sparkle Milestone kit, and it ends up being Dimwit’s old kit. Boom - I grabbed it. It has a great history, and now it’s been with me for a long time [over twenty years]. Let’s just say it’s seen a lot of blood, sweat and tears!

AM: A final question. The Subhumans are re-recording a song you wrote for Personality Crisis, "Piss on You," for a BYO compilation, right? Tell me about that? 

JC: We changed the song around a little bit, added a chorus at the end, and everything turned out cool. There’s actually triangle on the song now. It’s to represent the tinkle.

...and that's it. RIP, Jon Card! say hi to Brian if you see him...

Aging Youth Gang, Stiff Middle Finger, and Rocket #9, Friday night at LanaLou's

Tribute acts can be a bittersweet thing: you are neither seeing the original band perform, nor hearing the people who are performing do material of their own, which you might actually want to hear.  So on two levels, no matter how good the tribute act, you might come away vaguely disappointed.

Case in point: Stiff Middle Finger, who began the night last night at LanaLou's. They were great -- check out "Wasted Life" here -- but as a Spores fan, it frustrates me a bit that I keep getting to see Danny sing other people's songs, but never his own. Spread out widely in time, across three different cover bands, I have now seen Danny do a set of Forgotten Rebels songs, a set of Stranglers songs, and as of last night, a set of Stiff Little Fingers songs (with a couple Damned, Clash, and -- was that the Undertones? -- songs thrown in for a bit of variety). Each one was fun in its way, but will I never get to see Danny sing a Spores song again?

Insert sadface emoticon here. I mean, call me a heretic if you must, but I like the Spores better than Forgotten Rebels, the Stranglers, or Stiff Little Fingers. Actually, I think I like the Spores better than the Damned, even (!). Sure, they're nowhere near as epochally or historically important, but I sincerely don't think that any of those bands has lyrics as witty or memorable as what you find in, say, "House of Frankenstein" or "Meat Bi-Product" or "Narcs in My Pants," for example. Sure, "New Rose" is a great song (they covered it last night!), but find me a single lyric from any of those bands as clever as "It's my economic orgasm/ It pays to be alive/ 'Cos I make profit off it/ While you work nine to five," off "Up the Boss," another entertaining vintage video of Danny's. The Spores made good use of the form. 

I mean, "I make profit off it," man; that's some witty wordplay, witty internal rhymin'. I like that! And hey, everyone here knows that Danny was also the cinematographer for Hard Core Logo, right? Undersung guy. He did this recent Bishops Green video, too. His complete filmography is unknown to me (and probably not on IMDB), but there's lots of stuff you'll know, sometimes in terms of his rock video output with him shooting while other people direct (I'm never clear): he did Poisoned's "Yeah I Guess," the Real McKenzie's "Mainland," Corsage's "The Shame I Feel," and much more... And some of his work in horror is just great -- try Incident in a Ghostland, for starters, directed by Martyrs' Pascal Laugier. Great movie, if a bit of a mindfuck (also true of The Tall Man, which Danny worked on, as well, and which I think you can see on Netflix; no, it's not a Phantasm reference).

Anyhow: last night would have been a great opportunity for some Spores action, because two other Spores were in the house, with Sandy singing and playing guitar for Aging Youth Gang and Boom Boom on drums (weirdly, Boom Boom -- whose real name I do not recall at the moment so Boom Boom he shall remain -- was the musician who impressed me most last night; that was some spunky, precise drumming, though Randy Bowman, playing with Stiff Middle Finger, was no slouch either, and it was fun seeing Orchard contribute to Aging Youth Gang). 

Of course, I ended up ducking out early -- staying long enough to see a bit of Rocket #9 and shoot a song they did, which Ed identified as an early Velvet Underground tune, but it's one I did not know, ironically and relevantly titled "I'm Not a Young Man Anymore" -- so maybe after Rocket #9's set, there was a semi-Spores reunion THAT I MISSED, but it really did not seem like that was going to happen (I had deliberately not asked anyone, so it would be a surprise, thinking it might happen at the end of AYG's set, but no; though AYG themselves did a couple of cover tunes, a mashup of Devo's "Uncontrollable Urge" and X's "Los Angeles," which, alas, I heard from the LanaLou's bathroom stall). It seemed really unlikely that Boom Boom would set up his kit again after all three bands had played. But if Ed wants to make me kick myself that I didn't stay for his band's full set, that would be the way to do it: tell me that that wished for Spores set actually happened, after Rocket #9 went off, and I missed it! (Note: I didn't). 

It's sadder still because of all the gigs of my teens and 20s, the one I remember least was the Spores. I did see them at some sort of festival of independent music, I think at the New York Theatre, circa 1986, and I believe Death Sentence and the Haters were also on the bill, with the Haters dressed in menacing dark hoods, using power tools to destroy various bits of metal on mic; there were sparks flying, and the noise they generated was quite overwhelming. I have told the story before, but I remember gawking in horror and then trying to get as far away from the stage as I could, telling people I was with, "It's not music!" It figures that the only band whose performance I actually have memories of from that night is the Haters. All I remember of Death Sentence and the Spores that night was arguing with a female friend which band was better, and having to say something like, "Okay, sure, Death Sentence have the better live presence, I grant you that, but the Spores have better lyrics." 

"In Flames" is okay, I guess (it's actually the drummer, Doug Donut, singing, I gather -- the video lies!). 

So what will I remember about last night? (Hell, what do I remember now?). Before things kicked off, I had chatted a bit with Nick (AKA Gnick, formerly of AYG, but not playing last night, even though he came across from the island to see the show; I actually had assumed while we were talking that he would be taking the stage, but no). I foolishly opined to him at one point that Husker Du, like Neil Young & Crazy Horse, is one of those bands whose songs I really just don't need to hear if its not them doing them (he had been talking about seeing Prong to "Don't Want to Know If You Are Lonely"). Then I realized, while my mouth was still moving, that Nick is the man behind Huskee Dude, whose set is entirely made up of Husker Du covers. Oops!

I backpedalled a bit there: I really did enjoy the Huskee Dude set I saw, in some cases thinking Nick's delivery (on "Dead Set on Destruction," for instance) was better than Du's -- I never really liked those last two Du studio albums). Oddly, I think I saw Huskee Dude the night that Danny did that Forgotten Rebels thing. Or maybe it was the night of a Gun Club tribute? Or maybe that was the same night? Everything is a blur. 

But of last night's show, I will also remember the very friendly Randy Bowman, drumming for Stiff Middle Finger, finally laying to rest the mystery of how fast the Subhumans play on No Wishes, No Prayers. (Subhumans vocalist) Brian "Wimpy Roy" Goble (RIP) had said to me, a long time ago, "No way were we playing that fast," and I think (guitarist) Mike Graham may have gone along with that as well, which one early demo, donated to an issue of Mongrel Zine, seemed to confirm, as it is no speedier than what you hear on Incorrect Thoughts, but Ron Allan, the bassist on that record, had insisted that they really had been when I chatted with him at the Khats fest. Randy's answer was definitely off the record -- the part of it that can be published involved the fact that the Subhumans at that point were on a California label for that (SST/ New Alliance) and wanted to keep up with bands like the Circle Jerks -- but it confirmed Ron's take on things and provided a very good reason why Brian and Mike might not have mis-remembered things (and why they might have been playing faster than normal, too). Let's leave it there! The Subhumans REALLY WERE playing that fast! 

Also, it seems like after Jim Imagawa left the Subhumans, before Bowman was recruited, there may have been a brief period where Dimwit was back on drums again. I did not know about this. Did you know that Jon Card, the drummer for the last incarnation, was using Dimwit's kit when the Subhumans did Same Thoughts Different Day? 

What's that Art Bergmann lyric: "Who will ever know how much we cared?" (You can actually hear that whole album, Lost Art Bergmann, here; that song, "Who Will Ever Know," never actually made it onto Crawl With Me, so that album's the only way to hear it). 

What else will I remember of last night? Orchard Pinkish (whom I gifted a Birthday Party CD I had thrifted for a buck, earlier that night, at a Sally Ann) demanding on mike that Ed Hurrell buy him an imported beer? (Orchard tells me there was a pre-existing arrangement, it wasn't just random demandingness). Eddy Dutchman (Stiff Middle Finger's bassist, whom I gifted a Ramones tribute CD) telling me "The secret to having a good band is, you have Orchard Pinkish in it?" Using Orchard's pink outer coat, draped over a chair, as a landmark for the guy at the bar to let him know what table to bring my poutine to? Offering Ed Hurrell a Monty Python CD and having him say that he had it already, and gifting it instead to Nick? 

Oh, Stiff Middle Finger -- in the tradition of the Spores update of "Anarchy in the UK" -- updated the lyrics for "I'm so Bored with the USA" to include Trump and MAGA and so forth, but I only caught the tail end of that on video. That twofer -- the second song being "Wasted Life" -- was the high point of their set, which was pretty tight, fast, and fun to watch. Aging Youth Gang's most fun song was probably the super-tight, super fast "Money Money," which Sandy quipped was "the best 43 seconds of music you're going to hear tonight," but the song of theirs I'm preserving is, of course, "Maggots" (which sounds quite Sporeslike, you know? You can hear that Sandy was a Spore in the band's songwriting). Oh, and I bugged Sandy and Boom Boom to sign my Spores collection, which I think they had fun doing (got Danny to sign the 7 inches, too, which I hadn't previously done). Apparently that's Sandy's ass on the "Narcs in My Pants" cover ("I'll sign my ass!" he quipped), while it was Boom Boom's face used for the model on the Schizofungi! cover. People seemed awful impressed by my Spores collection last night, like it is somehow an unusual thing to appreciate that band.  

So it was a fun night, well worth doing. In some ways, my biggest regret after there not being *even* *one* *Spores* *cover* (unless it happened after I left) was that I missed out on most of Rocket #9's set, because they're in fact a really great band. It's weird that now the default seems to be to have the headliner as the middle act (Nick: "no one wants to play last, when everyone is going home"). I had actually figured that Rocket #9 would be opening, but Ed's quip that they were the real headliners was in a way to the point, as they could have been. Very solid band, in no way lesser than the rest of the bill.

There's not much else that I've retained, but at one point during Stiff Middle Finger's set, Danny observed that "There's fucking young people in here!" (He'd elsewise described the evening as "curmudgeon rock" or something, since I think the average age of bandmembers was about 60; I would guess Orchard was in fact the youngest person to grace the stage last night and that the majority of folks in the house were my age or older). Some of those young people were actually the children of some of the band members, in fact. At one point, Randy introduced me to his kids, and I quipped that I had a record that their Dad was on "since I was your age."

But actually, they didn't look like they were much older than 40, and No Wishes No Prayers came out in 1983, so the truth is, it might be that the album is actually older than they are.

Someone sure should reissue that. 

Oh, and since some people are asking, the Stiff Little Fingers songs covered also included "Suspect Device" (another high point), "Alternative Ulster," "78rpm" (which opened the night) and "When We Were Young." Which is the song that Stiff Middle Finger played when Danny was observing that there were "fucking young people" in here. Makes sense!