Written by Brendan Kane

Photography by Brendan Kane and Ryan Monty

What I was able to gather by the halfway point of my first cab ride in Portland went beyond the knowledge of how busy the night was for the driver or if it was supposed to rain later in the evening.  It was the opening night of MFNW (Music Fest North West) in the city and my friend, Monty and I were on our way to a place called the Kennedy School to watch Deer Tick perform three sets in a gymnasium. That was all I needed to know. An hour earlier, an eavesdropping Buffalo Exchange clothes-fetcher overheard me talking them up to a fellow employee as I tried on a pair of women’s jeans. He said the show was free and affiliated with the festival; however, it was dubbed as a halfway to St. Patrick’s Day bash.

The cabbie shot dialogue like a cannon when I told him the Kennedy School address, “Oh yeah, that’s a McMenamin’s,” he began. This was the second time I had heard this phrase; the first was the night before. We were in Centralia, Washington and about to see Deer Tick (but they had to reschedule). Suffice to say, becoming fond with four Olympia cool cats, drinking absinthe from a crystal chalice, and proceeding to close down their McMenamin’s haunt built a strong first impression.

According to the cabbie, the Kennedy school is an elementary school from 1915 that the McMenamin’s franchise revived from abandonment for the sole purpose of filling it with as much cool shit as possible. You feel like you’re in a school and it creeps you out right up until point when you realize that every classroom is a bar, restaurant, cigar room, theatre, micro-brewery, pool or suite and a wicked band is playing all night in the gym to a dinner crowd. The mere sight of seeing a mother swinging her young daughter upside down by the ankles (to the delight of the child) as Deer Tick ripped into a Hank Williams tune triggered a sense that community in Oregon was of a deeper essence than much of North America. This seemed special; this was new; and Portland is the place to be for art in September.

Our home base for the festival was the artist-friendly, Ace Hotel. It was easy to feel at home since the place was stacked with a youthful (and like-minded) clientele and staff. We were also within walking distance from many of the venues and a block away from the enormous, Powell Bookstore. After the Deer Tick anthology and before Will Sheff, Jill arrived to meet us outside Ace and the four of us strolled to see the Okkervil River front man take the stage at Berbati’s Pan – a pub that also makes Greek food and neighbours the psychedelic Voodoo Doughnuts (maple glazed topped with bacon anyone?).

Sheff’s voice, I have often found (wait for the cheese…) is kind of like a river; the lyric delivery is rolling, unpredictable and, at times, looking like it’s going to fall right off a cliff or out of the song. His range, tone and mostly, his attention to romantic detail seem to address every whimsical thought in the mind of someone young and in love. Portland, he mentioned, was a groundbreaking spot for his career – it was only fitting that the kick-off event belong to Sheff, his acoustic guitar, and the small brigade of cellists in the encore.

Day two started with an early-morning skateboard to the nearby market for some juice and muffins. If the earmark of a truly logistical city lies in its non-motorized transport options, every throughway in downtown Portland included a painted bike lane. The morning rain was also enough to extract the city’s trademark weather comment from my barista: “Do you know why they say Oregonian’s refuse to wear umbrellas? Because it’s never going to rain enough to get you wet!” Really? Bastards.

We were dining at the Clyde Common (attached to Ace) when Lindsay arrived. Seating is at long, Euro-inspired tables that encourage talking to strangers,goblet sliding and - during happy hour - pints are $3 and popcorn is a featured entrée. We hailed a cab to take us to an early performance from Philadelphia’s, Dr. Dog at the Wonder Ballroom. Yet another historic venue, packed to the brim with around 800 in broad daylight and a set-piece of harmonies from Taxi, Tables, Text, Trouble and Thanks. Soon to be Indie cult-classics like The Breeze and Hang On, both from their summer record, Fate got a rouse from the crowd.

We were steadfast in snatching up a cab, and destined for Saburo’s Sushi for our fill of cheap rolls, each with the median size of a balled fist. The girls and boys respectively (and respectfully) ditched one another for Girl Talk and Explosions in the Sky/Dirty Three - the latter’s shocking awesomeness took (approximately) one week to truly sink in. It was in San Francisco while talking to the clerk at Recycled Records on Haight-Ashbury; a classical instrumental band crackled in the speaker next to his face as he ate a wrap and wrote down directions for me to find a vintage record player.  The band was Mono and they are Japanese. Quickly we talked about Explosions and Dirty Three synonymously. When I said that I saw them back-to-back, he had to swallow whatever sandwich and say, “That’s life-affirming shit, man.”  I responded with something to do with my mind being blown, and in handing me the directions he said, “Everything has to happen.”

Explosions in the Sky played in my third visited McMenamin’s establishment - the massively multi-tiered and diamond orientated Crystal Ballroom. The old hardwood floor panels in this venue flex bounce and shift with every kick drum, bass line or hopping audience member, extenuating every thunderous breakdown that makes them the premier instrumental act in the west. They were, however, only a precursor for the Dirty Three of Melbourne, Australia. Warren Ellis plays the violin, sometimes the piano and tells stories in between songs. He does not sing; his violin does, and I usually catch myself calling him the ‘lead singer’. All of the songs deal with specific subject matter and he lets the audience know this. One song was simply about “when your girl tells you to go get fucked, and you know she’s right” and another dealt with “what it’s like to do so much amphetamine that your brain is literally the size of a pea and you can’t move from off your back for three days.”

We sat on the cast iron fire escape back at Ace that night and (hours later) watched below as Ellis marched down the empty road with tremendous pace in his stride – a true mad scientist, always at work. The girls stumbled in drunker than 40 cats, so I went downstairs and crossed the street to the Roxy Diner to get everyone some replenishing grub. The entryway was partially blocked by a young girl making out with a transvestite; the bathrooms were soaked in graffiti; there was a gigantic crucifix; there was an incredible jukebox; and best of all, there was Warren Ellis eating a salad with a friend and talking to about the state of America.

Friday was my first Urban Outfitters experience; in that, aside from getting some nice things, I felt genuinely jealous to have not come up with many of their gimmicks. We ate at the Rams Head – another McMenamin’s to further that feeling and arranged to interview John McCauley (Deer Tick singer) before their show at the quaint, Mississippi Studios.  McCauley had been drinking when we spoke in the afternoon and things didn’t happen to stop being fun for him. He called me an hour and a half before their set with a voice like a bucket of rusty nails, asking to postpone the conversation.  I bumped into a few other members of the band in the pub across the street who told me they had never seen him like this – as his voice was reeling from several consecutive multi-hour sets.

Sure enough, big John and the Deer Ticks emerged from the back room with McCauley dawning a plastic bag on his face, a pleated red miniskirt, camouflage t-shirt and had sharpie dicks drawn on his thighs. McCauley apologized for his voice to the crowd - but what he lacked in his typical Cobain/Hank tone, he made up for in escapades – leading the band members off stage mid-way through Dirty Dishes to get beer from the bar and scaling the balcony to walk it like a tightrope. These very escapades also inspired those of us in the crowd (me included) to push our drunk – never a negative.

It was Saturday, so we woke up and drove to the ocean. Portland seems like an ocean town – it did before I knew the geography and it did on this visit. However, it takes just under two hours to drive to the coast. This day journey was to greatly overshadow our Sunday adventure, which originally was to be Crater Lake (6 hours was too far) but ended up being Mount Hood (2 hours and much to the dismay of the girls). We were all informed by Monty that the Timberline Lodge on the mountain was actually the Overlook Hotel from the Shining. But when we arrived, the girls saw no sign of verification of this from the tourist stands and a mutiny began to brew. Apparently a secondary crew shot the Timberline for “a few exterior shots” in the Shining – not good enough.

Saturday evening I took in crusty punkers, the Dillinger Four who got me back to basics – straight forward punk - no bull shit and tons of ranting. First, front man Patrick Costello ripped vegans who move to Brooklyn and start punk bands without a bass player by saying that they will: a) Never get laid and b) Are directly insulting Otis Redding. He then focussed his afflictions upon Christians, saying that he intends on burying Batman comic books with the hopes that someone in the future will dig them up and start a religion based upon them. 

Modest Mouse might be the perfect headliner for a bar hopping music festival – their credibility is enough for casual music fans, yet they’re small enough to not attract said fans. Your parents haven’t heard of them and what the hell, they’re from Portland! The show was at the Crystal Ballroom, so the floor was shaking and we got the pleasure of standing next to the most fun people ever that were also on the most fun drugs ever - it all seemed to just trickle down.

As my first MFNW came to a resounding close, so much of the experience can be traced back to that very first cab ride. When the cabbie proudly spoke of the Kennedy school, I wished badly for a piece of that kind of history and community back home – where you can be enriched in community and not just shuffled in and out. The Portland he explained from a decade ago sounded a lot like Calgary – a downtown to work in and then scurry away from at quitting time. He said everyone had enough – they wanted markets, shops and a bustling nightlife. They wanted to take back the metropolis from vagrants and make people confident for their safety – committed to leisure. We were in the middle of Seattle and Sanfrancisco and that didn’t matter; I told him, “we want that in Calgary” and he said, “Do it then.”

For the record, it was a busy night because it was supposed to rain.

Photos and words by: Jennifer Silver

All the high fashion stores in Calgary all have a little bit more competition now that Little Burgundy has made its way over to Western Canada with its first opening in Alberta at Calgary’s own Market Mall.

My first impressions of Little Burgundy were a bit of a sensory overload, with bright and shiny things that would have any shopaholic distracted and drooling.  The store smelled like new materials and the design and layout of the store contributed to a gorgeous display of shoes, bags and accessories.

On a closer look, I discovered all the ‘haute couture’ brands offered at the store. The labels that caught my attention ranged from Juicy Couture and Betsey Johnson to Marc Jacobs and Ray Ban.

It may sound like a store similar to Holt Renfrew or something straight out of New York. But Little Burgundy offers a wide selection of fashionable brands, some with extra zeros on the price tag, but plenty without.

Imagine if Gravity Pope, Aldo, Holt Renfrew and Stoneridge all collided into one big, bright and beautiful store, and in the convenience of the mall. With a little added twist of theme inspired art and a calm atmosphere, then you have Little Burgundy.

Catherine Laporte, a manager from the store explains that Little Burgundy targets a younger age group and wants to get all the hottest and newest fashion out to people with great style and all bank account sizes.

“We have a 16-28 year old age group that is our target,” said Laporte “we sell mostly to fashion saavy people, we have that urban, modern vintage style.”

Another thing that makes Little Burgundy special is it’s theme. As many stores are just designed for convenience and too display as many items as they can. Little Burgundy offers a theme to their shopping experience.

“Our store has a relationship theme.” Laporte said. “We use bamboo, different lighting, it’s a techno metal aspect.”

I have no idea what a techno metal aspect is but I could see what she meant about the theme of the store. There were chairs and pictures all over that not only added color and decoration to the store, but when I looked a bit closer they have notes and writing all over them.

So, being an attendee of the VIP party, I got a sneak peek of the store before it opens its doors to fashion saavy Calgarians. But a sneak peek wasn’t the only thing I got at Little Burgundy during the media launch party, but I also got Crave cupcakes, Vitamin Water and lots of candy, not to mention a free item of my choice. So of course being the girl that I am, I could decide between a new pair of fresh high tops or a stylin purse. But now I can proudly say that I hold a Bestey Johnson purse of my own.

For all the fashionista’s in Calgary, Little Burgundy is a one stop designer shop where you can get all the glam, for more or less. And I know I will definitely be back.

Photography by Jessica Wittman

In the aftermath of Andrew WK’s second of two Sled Island performances, we met the pop icon/motivational lecturer/party-starter at the bottom of the Legion’s stairwell. This is the conversation that followed - enjoy!

Kane: I would like if you could start by telling me about your motivational speaking.

Andrew WK: I’ve never officially called it motivational speaking; I have called it lectures…but even lectures has kind of been a weird word to use because lectures entails talking to or at people. It’s more like an opportunity for people to be in a very focused environment where they can be in a mode of expressing. Much like tonight, the emphasis is on freedom, on feeling really good, on setting aside a moment where we put our energy toward that good feeling – but without music or traditional modes of performance. They have been an opportunity to connect with people in a very spontaneous and subconscious place. The thing is, a lot of people are thinking the same stuff I am thinking about.

Kane: What sort of things?

Andrew WK: Just what it’s like to be alive and what to do in that state.

Kane: Was there something that you saw in people’s reaction to your music that made you want to go beyond the temporary, 45 minute positive message of a set?

Andrew WK: It came from the music in terms of the music laying the foundation for everything I get to do now. So I’m grateful to performing giving me other opportunities. But, I guess the idea was to take that risk of going up on stage without anything; without any songs; without any instruments; without any plan. That was scary for me in a way because for a long time, I thought that music was the only way I could get this feeling of joy. It’s kind of difficult to describe. But I think anyone who has felt this way understands when you feel enthusiastic and glad to be alive. It can happen from music and all sorts of situations, but the idea is to be in that state of mind all the time. Even in moments when you would feel sad or when you just don’t feel good, the lectures are about a higher point of observation that looks at all of those experiences and emotions – even the one we wouldn’t say are nice or good – and really be able to enjoy them.

Kane: I think it’s such a contrast to compare concerts, when people are loosened up, to public speaking and people’s vulnerabilities. Was there something negative you saw in people at your shows that pushed you to reach out?

Andrew WK: Well that’s what’s interesting. When I first started doing this kind of rock music, it was that I personally wanted to get out of bad feelings that I was having. It wasn’t so much that I saw others behaving badly – I just had a lot of bad vibes that I wanted to change and I wanted to come up with some reason to shake them. Music with this kind of energy gave me that reason to go beyond myself and the limitations I was feeling – a lot of those were feelings of being angry at people and the world and feeling like a victim of outside circumstances.

When most people have a passion, part of having that passion is that it brings out the best in you and ideally everyone who comes in contact with you. You realize that it’s not really your passion; it’s just a passion that exists for you to tap into and for others to tap into as well. But it starts with the individual because I did this for myself first.

Witt: It sounds to be very Zen or Buddhist. I’m a follower, on some level, of Buddhism and the Dali Lama – and not that you model your life on specific individuals – but do you have a spiritual influence?

Andrew WK: There are a lot of very basic ideas about existence that have been presented by great thinkers and traditions that I have become familiar with more recently as people would tell me I might like it. And I did like it.

Like you said, we can always take our own path and still appreciate the contributions of those great eras of thought. But I think it comes from the inexplicable feeling everybody has about what it is to be you. When you wake up in the morning, when you’re coming out of that state in-between awake and sleep and remember that you are you, you exist and this is what it feels like to be you. It’s like a flavour or a smell or a familiar feeling. Sometimes, when you’ve really pushed yourself out of your comfort zone, you can almost forget that you’re you and have to get back to that.

In the first few minutes after I get off stage, I’m recovering. There needs to be that balance between being yourself and working within the idea of your ego. The ego can be a very healthy thing to work with; but sometimes it can become painful and that’s a good time to let go of the ego – like (after a performance) on a night like this.

Kane: You mean after seeing a new crowd of a thousand people and you’ve crossed the continent to be here for everyone to try and share one idea…

Witt: …and they’re playing your music. I was watching the end of your set and you’re nowhere near your key board while some guy is pounding away on it.

Andrew WK: I tried to show him the right notes to play, too.

Witt: Not a lot of musicians allow that interaction, but you must know that most people just want to feel like they’re a part of something.

Andrew WK: That’s a nice byproduct but hopefully even people who don’t get that physical are still feeling it. I can tell if I’m feeling it and if I’m feeling it, usually someone else is too. As long as they get some kind of interaction or experience or something to think about and apply in a useful way – then that’s a real honour.

Kane: We’ve talked so much about happiness. What makes you happy right now?

Andrew WK: I thought that I would have gotten more used to this lifestyle or show biz. But the more I’ve done it, I’ve been like: ‘wait a minute, this is just insane that this even exists and I get to do this’. It’s crazy that this many people in the entertainment industry even exist!

I’m with two of the biggest booking agencies in the world – C.A.A. and Williams Morris – and I’ve looked at the rosters for those and there are literally hundreds of massive artists, each capable of filling venues 10 times this size. And I think: ‘there is so much room for people to do this’ and, at the same time, ‘how did I get to do this’?

Kane: Why do people think you party so hard?

Andrew WK: I have a lot of songs about that so that’s probably why they think that.

Kane: But is it the real you or an act? You seem to be more interested in philosophy.

Andrew WK: I don’t think that, maybe unfortunately, life or any one person is easy to figure out as either they’re “this” or “that” and this is the “real way” or the “fake way”. The idea of authenticity is, to me, one of the most absurd ideas in history. Everything that happens is real. There can be many shades of how much you’re moved by an experience or affected a performance, but there is no division between real and fake - it’s impossible for something to exist and be fake.

Kane: Do you like making people party?

Andrew WK: I can’t make people do anything.

Kane: But they do.

Andrew WK: They do that on their own will and that’s why it’s so exciting to see - when we align in those moments of subconscious agreement. I understand what you’re saying. For example, before I came to do this show I wasn’t in my hotel room screaming as loud as I could and running around in circles. I was conserving energy and preparing for the show. But I’m always trying to be in the moment…

Witt: Having fun?

Andrew WK: Yeah

Witt: I don’t think you can truly talk about something if you don’t know it.

Andrew WK: Sure you can. Yes you can.

Witt: You can?

Andrew WK: I’ve been able to. Maybe you can’t.

Witt: But to be able to get people to have fun, you can’t do it without having fun or, I guess, partying.

Andrew WK: I enjoy creating an atmosphere of energy. I feel like that’s what I was meant to do and I maybe wasn’t meant to necessarily enjoy that environment as much as other people. That’s just my path. Thank goodness there are those people though, because that gives them something to do and it gives me something to do.

This is my road and this is my path and it’s really fantastic when it coincides with other people’s paths.

Written by Brendan Kane

Photography by Alicia Hoogveld

If it seems like the Fast Romantics have been taking it kind of slow with you lately, expect them to make a big sexy move this Saturday when they release their debut album at the Warehouse. With the better half of last year spent touring, recording and playing only select Calgary dates such as Night to Fight and Markapalooza, the band is more excited than a well played third date to throw this mega party with fellow album releasers, Secret Broadcast.

“Out of all the exciting things ever, in the history of exciting things – this would be like the ‘#2’ exciting thing,” said singer Matt Angus adding that man walking on the moon takes first place.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t real,” quipped guitarist Matthew Kliewer.

“No it wasn’t - it was staged and this is not staged. We’re gonna be on the stage.”

The evening is one of the more incentive laden local events you’ll attend this summer, seeing that $20 gets you entry plus a copy of both albums – or if you hate recorded music, you can squeeze in for a ten spot.

The Fast Romantics self-titled hardly sounds like a debuting piece; instead the sprawling, rise and fall song structure of hopscotch keys and strings gives off an intricate Euro pop joviality. The album range of musicianship is best seen on Spooning the Gorilla and Stop Me, the stomping breakdowns show off the band’s hypnotic dance style while the dark, introspective Casablanca has standout lyricism from Angus.

Anyone who’s been around the recording process knows of the desperation and tribulations that seems to come with it. Angus himself pulled a strenuous 32 hour session in the band’s studio, band members changed, and Kliewer was even in an automotive accident.

“I got t-boned by a semi-truck on my way home one night. It was after we recorded the song Casablanca,” said Kliewer. “It wasn’t detected on the first x-ray, but I hurt my fibula; it had a crack down the middle of the bone, so I was bed-ridden for about a month.”

Saturday’s festivities should not only rectify the bothersome bits of their struggle, it to will act as a send-off for their second cross-Canada tour which gets underway in September. The traditional four-piece that also includes bassist, Jeffrey Lewis and drummer, Alan Reain, has now added a lady keyboardist/backing vocalist to the mix with Laurna Germscheid.

“We wanted a lady and we got a lady,” said Angus with a smirk. “She is fitting in quite nice.”

“Her vocals are very accommodating to Matt’s. Some of the harmonies he would do with a really high falsetto, she’s able to hit those naturally whereas with a guy it’s a tough stretch,” said Kliewer.

The 16 date tour will see the band pepper Ontario and extend through Quebec as somewhat of a radio darling. Angus says that even though they have never been to the province, Quebecois stations are spinning the Romantics faster than the rest of the nation and this makes dates in Montreal and the capital stand out on the road map. Secret Broadcast will make up the other half of Calgary throughout the tour which will be their first of this magnitude – so you should expect a hilarious video blog.

“We know that it’s a party non-stop, so we’ve learned some lessons and I think we’ll share those lessons with Secret Broadcast,” said Kliewer.

“In the friendliest possible way, we’d like to see them self-destruct before Winnipeg,” joked Angus.

After about a year of honing in on their live show antics, these Fast Romantics say this is a paramount event and record for them as a band.

“We know who we are, what we’re trying to do and we want see if we can get people off at the same time – which most people aren’t lucky enough to be able to do that,” said Angus. “Rock and roll shows are a lot like really good sex…”

“We want people to walk out and be like: (wondrous sigh)… that was fantastic!” interjected Kliewer with googly eyes.

“We want everyone to come at the same time,” said Angus.

*The Warehouse opens at 8pm on Saturday with the Shagbots kicking off the night.*

[View with PicLens]

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All photos by Jessica Wittman

Photography by Jenn Silver

We caught up with Cecil Frena, mastermind of Edmonton’s GOBBLE GOBBLE. Tonight, you must go to Marquee Room to check out their one of a kind, video game inspired flu pop. Underneath the fuzzy vocals, bleeps, bloops and blips of Comcast’s past lies the melody of the next greatest club bomb. Also sharing the stage will be Mount Analogue and Extra Happy Ghost, who are having their cd release party.

What is Flu Pop and are you the procreatory influence of this genre?

Flu pop is a nervous psychic distillery: pour in snot and bile and humors and then inhale deeply over the humidifier as something laughably lovely rises up. A kind of carnivalesque coffee filter for your carnal fears. We all procreate, more or less.

What are history’s top three video games and why?

a. Pit Fighter (SNES): This often-overlooked gem simulates perfectly the vicious intensity of illegal prize fighting by rendering its character sprites as maximally compressed GIFs circa 1994. The controls are so carefully mangled and time-delayed that this feat of programming sublimates video gaming into dadaist performance art.

b. NBA Jam (Cross-Platform): NBA Jam is the game that finally brought encephalitis to the mainstream after so many years. I hate sports, but I love sports with big heads. Such simple arithmetic.

c. Shaq-Fu (Cross-Platform): It is axiomatic that 2D fighting games go from good to transcendentally amazing when they: a) feature jilted first-gen FMV-like animations; and 2) have a celebrity endorsement worthy of Kazaam! Shaq-fu proved that the universe does indeed resonate with karmic balance. Monks spend years sequestered and ascetic to achieve the heights that Shaq Fu propels you to in seconds.

If GOBBLE GOBBLE were to remix a classic album, what would it be
and how would people feel about it?

I think I would remix the record Michael Jackson was working on with Akon just prior to his death. Since everyone is suddenly a Michael Jackson fan, I imagine it would go over well, but really I just want to have this unbelievable collab in my collection as soon as possible.

Describe your ideal wedding.

Everyone would be wearing black and standing with their arms crossed and dour looks on their faces. Each person would have a green glowstick in their left breast pocket. Some people would be wearing vampire teeth. The priest would have suspension hooks in his back, and would refer constantly to his tatttered copy of the Penguin Anton Lavey. When the marriage vows are consummated, there will be a bass drop, and a smoke machine and strobe light would turn on. The first dance would be My Chemical Romance’s “Undead Lovers Quadrilogy”, at which point I would be unable to countenance the affair any longer and would initiate divorce proceedings.

Which is life’s most underappreciated natural sound effect?

Tiga’s girlfriend’s shoes.

Who is your favourite Edmonton band at the moment?

It’s a bit artificial and more than a bit political for me to pick a favorite band from my hometown, so I won’t, but to provide some response to your inquiry, I do want to say that Bayonets!!! Deserve much more attention than they’ve been getting. They play an absolutely caustic variety of no wave / theater punk . Their live performance is a sight to be seen, verily, intimidatingly awkward and confrontational in the very best sense of those words. Bayonets!!! laugh, cry, and above all, lunge.

Written by Chris Cassady

Photography by Brendan Kane

So, here I am at the appointed meeting place. It’s midnight, and the line-up is already 50 deep. I don’t see my way inside anywhere. They’re probably already knee deep in sweat and beer watching another act inside, while I try to figure out how to talk my way in. The dreaded words come from the guy at the door, who looks ready to run at a moments notice. “The show is sold out, so if you have a gold pass, come to the front of the line and you’re in, if you have a pink pass, then you can wait and see if you get in if people leave, and if you were waiting for a walk up ticket, you may as well go home now”. “Shit…now what” I’ll just hang out for a while and maybe someone I know will show up.

As I’m standing there like a kid waiting to be picked last in dodge ball, I see a guy dressed in black with long straggly hair walking down 7^th Avenue S.E. towards me. The face is still half a block away but, man…he looks familiar. As he gets within feet of me, I say “Hey, Steve!” It’s Steve Kudlow, the Lead Singer and Guitarist for Anvil, walking from his hotel to the show, smoking a hand rolled cigarette. “What’s the line-up for?” he inquires. I respond with a happy “It’s for you guys, Steve. You’re sold out tonight”. No Shit…Cool” he responds. This guy has played to seventy thousand people at the Castle Donnington Festival in Scotland, with other huge Heavy Metal groups in the 80’s and he’s excited about playing for 300 in Calgary.

Steve and I strike up a conversation about the band, the movie, the music industry and anything else I can jam into this amazing impromptu interview that is still going to take place tomorrow, before they play at Olympic Plaza for the masses. I still want to get in tonight so I say, “Hey Steve, I’m interviewing you tomorrow afternoon, but I really wanted to see you guys play tonight”. Steve looks at me and says “Come on with me, I’ll get you in!” and with that we walk up to the security at the door and Steve says “I’m Steve from Anvil, were playing tonight, and he’s with me” giving the security guard a thumbs up. “Cool, have a great show” he retorts, and we head inside. I meet with the bands Manager, and then Steve is off to get ready for the show. I grab 2 beers, down 1 and head to the front of the stage to wait for the Metal Assault.

Sled Island is alive and well and living at the Royal Canadian Legion in Downtown Calgary. Anvil is playing a “Surprise Guest” show in about an hour, and I want to be at the front of the stage to see Steve and Robb Reiner tear it up like they used to when I was 17 and had purchased Metal on Metal, a definitive time in my life for music. The band is having a re-birth of sorts, 30 years after their initial success, and eventual placement in rock and roll meritocracy. They have risen out of the ashes in North America, a place where they have never had commercial success, with a documentary movie called Anvil: The story of Anvil, a two year trip through a failed European Tour, ups and downs in a 35 year friendship, and playing to crowds smaller than the line up for the toilet at the Legion.

With a huge Metal following in Europe, England and other places, it’s unthinkable that Anvil, a band that has huge Canadian Pride, and hails from Ontario, has never had success at home. They are early pioneers of the genre, and were huge influences for Metallica, Slayer, and others, yet until this documentary rolled out, they still had day jobs at home, and the band was secondary. I remember 1982 –1984 very well. It was the Metal Years for me. Def Leppard – Pyromania, Iron Maiden – Piece of Mind, Judas Priest – Screaming for Vengeance and Defenders of the Faith…and Anvil – Metal on Metal and Forged in Fire. These were influential times, with music being a force to be reckoned with in a young man’s maturing anger and distrust of society. It was hard, it was fast, and it played at every underage party I went to. We drank hard, we partied hard, and we waited for the next installment on vinyl at A&B Sound.

The show is running late, it’s 1:45 am, and they hit the stage. Steve does his own guitar tuning, and Robb does a mic test on his drums. There are no expensive road crews at this level. They carry their own guitar cases, and roll their own cords when they are done. A Metal onslaught ensues. I am taken back to my high school years with classic hits like 666, Jackhammer and Winged Assassins. The show lasts for about and hour and then the lights come on. The Legion people want to go home!! “Well I guess we have to play our Rock and Roll Bible song” Steve says to the screaming crowd, who doesn’t want it to end, and Anvil breaks in to Metal on Metal. I am sated. It’s a great night as my ears ring happily. I shake hands with Steve and thank him for the history lesson. We plan for our interview the next day.

It’s a beautiful sunny day in Downtown Calgary at the Olympic Plaza. Steve and Robb are ready for another day in the Anvil world. Interview after interview lined up, and then a show tonight. They are in their glory as Rock Stars, thirty years in the making, and they are enjoying every moment. But there’s something different about these two that I notice immediately. They may be Rock Stars enjoying their labor of love, but they are real human beings, not pretentious, or disengaged. They talk with me like a friend they have known for a long time. They love what they do, and they do it with the fans and the music in mind. They love to play. If they didn’t they would have probably given it up a long time ago. As Steve eats a McDonald’s Filet of Fish combo, and Robb eats the cookies from a Kid’s Meal, I am struck by their down to earth nature. They have amazing stories about life on the road, the people that they have met, and played with, yet they always come back to the music. They love to play.

Anvil has reached a higher rung on the ladder of success than they have been working for and after thirty years they are finally being given the respect that they deserve in North America. It isn’t there yet, but it is coming. They now have 3 shows signed to play opening act for AC/DC, 2 in the U.S. and 1 in Moncton, New Brunswick. AC/DC doesn’t need Anvil to open for them. They are big enough on their own. But AC/DC wants Anvil to open for them. Steve and Robb are almost there. And they deserve it after all these years.

Why?

Because they love to play!

Written by: Magda Gorski
Photos by: Devon Boulton-Mills

Danny Kirk is a thoughtful, intelligent and observant creator whose work explores a variety of themes and topics which are, by nature, open to interpretation. Many deal with identity, subjectivity, “isms”, re-connecting with the precious and the intangibles in life, and re-evaluating predisposed perceptions and meanings in a constructed world. He also makes a mean cup of chai, and might even feed you biscuits.

His strange and fabulous art moves into liberated conversation with its viewers by showing and telling a story, and his observations are reflected in and off his work, which challenges the audience but also acknowledges the information each viewer provides. It reminded me of cutting an earthworm in half - each new process of creation becomes a part of its emerging environment, as well. Sitting down in his studio, a space stocked with art and ideas, where he showed me mounds of his work, we talked candidly about his craft, about condoms, the universe, monsters, teeth, truths and the state of humanity, among other things.

Identity and subjectivity are major parts of Kirk’s work, and he tries to visualize and create new characters and faces that can express these ideas. “We don’t really know what’s true and what isn’t and it doesn’t really matter,” he reflects. His paintings are a fascinating dialogue between consciousness and the physical world, mentally inspiring and materially tactile.

Lately Kirk has been experimenting with different methods in his creations, which include painting with coffee, gold leaf and India ink, or adding burlap and silicone and other industrial materials to the canvas or by wrapping his paintbrushes with condoms (!). The finished products represent changing layered meanings and representations via the actual process of creating them.” Kirk says that sometimes he’ll walk into a gallery or opening where his art is on display and he’ll prod and poke the canvas as people look on in horror. “I’ve purposely made them durable; they can withstand it,” he says, pointing out that part of creating is challenging notions of what art is ultimately for.

Painting with condoms on the ends of his brushes creates “safe paintings” and questions what is created and what is held back. In describing his intentions for this series of work, Kirk says, “I’ve been playing with the notion of the act of creating versus the finished product. The act of making love ends off with warm fuzzy feelings and a used condom - then there’s the act of creating a work of art and what you end up with; and the finished product, is it about the result or the process?

“I like the idea of creating a painting and not actually having the brush touch the canvas. Having that sort of barrier there starts to make the process show through,” says Kirk, adding that his latest work with used mixed coffee grounds as paint also works with the idea of medium as message. “It removes some of the preciousness. It forces you to loosen it up and just let the paint show through.”

Kirk is embarking on an adventure across Canada this summer, ready for stimulation in the form of creating, people, self-discovery and experience. Not sure if this is a big secret, but Kirk’s plan is to work in motion within each new environment and if you take a good look around any random small town from here on east you might just see a gold leafed brick road trailing Danny Kirk’s journey across Canada.

photos: Jessica Wittman

words: Brendan Kane

Three things remain constant in a man’s life: alcohol, rock and roll, and girls. This phrase, given to me by Eamon McGrath, reads like a downplayed or sugarcoated sex, drugs, and rock and roll – but shouldn’t be taken as so. For the Edmonton prodigy, whiskey is the water of life; music is art when it’s as loud as possible; there is no better feeling than looking into a girl’s eyes right before you kiss her; and all of these things, he feels, will always be constant. It seems like a simple formula. After all, these are feelings that begin in the teenage years. But regardless of how experienced any of us become with intoxication, art, or love: our understanding of what is fleeting and what is truly constant will depend on our influences.

“The party doesn’t stop till Monday; that’s just the way it is,” said Frank Pirker, who plays bass for the Wild Dogs, McGrath’s band. He is sitting in front of Rick Reid’s (of the City Streets) house as I return to anticipated wreckage from the after-party. It’s Sunday and the incandescent morning rays straddle his shoulders, almost pulling his head toward the stoop as he tries to make sense of the night before. There is a gangly-ash smoke pinched tightly in one hand while the other seeks warmth from the wind inside his felt coat. On the corduroy patch where he rested his tired fingers in between songs is a blood stain the size of a silver dollar.

Last night, he sat motionlessly cross legged on his amp while in the shadows of stage right. Pirker says that his strumming arm has been numb since he passed out on it while on tour, however – unlike what you would expect from such an injury – the sound is intact. His style is relentless and the raw nature of his overcompensated bass lines might as well be an improvement. Inhaling the last drag of his cigarette, we retreat inside to talk about the world.

Early in the conversation, Pirker reaches for a record on the mantle and says, “This might be my favourite.” He pulls down a rather worn copy of Nancy Sinatra’s, These Boots Are Made for Walking, and I can’t decide what to think; that is, until he recites the liner note for me:*

“How should I sing this?”
“Like a 16 year old girl who’s been dating a 40 year old man, but it’s all over now.”
She looks good, dresses good, lives good, eats, drinks, loves, breathes, dances, sings, cries good. Five foot three and tiger eyes and a mouth made for lollipops or kisses, stingers or melting smiles. Ninety-five pounds of affection.
She’s been there already. Barely in her twenties; she looks younger. That look, like Lolita Humbert, like Daisy Clover. The power to exalt, or to destroy, wanting only the former, but unafraid to invoke the latter if the time comes.
The eyes that see through know more, look longer.
Unafraid to pull on the boots again, toss off a burnt out thing with a casual “So long, babe,” and get.
A young fragile living thing, on its own in a wondrous-wicked-wound up-wasted-wild-worried-wised up-warm bodied- world. On her own. Earning her daily crepes and Cokes by singing the facts of love. Her voice tells as much as her songs. No faked up grandeur, her voice is like it is: a little tired, little put down, a lot loving.
No one is born sophisticated. It’s a place you have to crawl to, crawling out of hayseed country, over miles of unsanded pavement, past trouble, past corners and forks with no auto club signs to point you, till you get there and you wake up wiser.
She’s arrived. She sings you about the long crawl. And makes you have to listen.

A lot of the time, the most unlikely sources amount the likeliest conclusions. My common sense tells me that that night in Edmonton and Nancy Sinatra shouldn’t really teach me very much about a person I had just met; but it did. Because I was in genuine company, with nowhere else to go, nothing better to do and no one better on my mind, I got the best out of the people I was with. Yet with so much depending on appointments, expectations and fear in the world, these moments are becoming marginalized. In this Sinatra disclaimer is the strong, unapologetic writing needed to protect and promote the daughter of musical icon. When the writer says, “No one is born sophisticated. It’s a place you have to crawl to…” it mirrors McGrath’s outlook, influences, intentions and friends; in that, everyone who wants to be is part of him, even as a spectator.

There are those who will need to find Bob Dylan, Tom Waits or some punk band in Eamon McGrath’s work – and they will – however, there is a new wisdom to be known and embraced. In east Whyte Avenue’s dank, the Wunderbar, half the people stood in awe, a quarter exited after the first song and the other quarter already knew what it was all about. The credence of his vocal crackle in your ears for the first time is like your first drink of booze - in the moment where you wonder if you’ll ever like it and question why so many do. But just like booze and love, the questions subside and what’s left is a truly constant feeling.

*Liner note by Stan Cornyn

Words: Isis Graham

Photos: Jessica Wittman

Before you go assuming this article is going to be about self mutilation, consider how interesting scars are. Every scar tells a story, natural or self induced. Stretch marks on a woman’s belly can indicate a recent pregnancy, a long scar down your chest can indicate surviving a major heart surgery, an “x” on your knee can indicate a knee replacement, and small scars on your hands can mean, well anything: burn scars, car accidents, or that time that Bobby accidentally shot you with his BB gun in Jr. High. All of these things happen every day. We all run around downtown in our work clothes with secrets and scars and stories. Nobody in our society in the right mental state is going to look at the above mentioned scars with radical negative judgment. The type of cognitive interpretation that a person uses to recognize these as “normal” scars is the same type of judgment a person uses to analyze a tribal scar or judge a self-induced cutter’s scar.

Scarification and tattooing has been practiced by our species for (possibly) over 200,000 years for lack of better proof or research to take it back further. It is believed that the first forms of scarification were used as social markers - sort of how we have grade six, nine and twelve graduations. Men and women would be - and still are - subjected to painful scrapings, sewing, and cuttings of the skin; most of time with very primitive tools made out of rock or wood or in some cases, very old, very dirty metals or glass. Living through these trials and bearing these marks proves something for these people. For the boys it could be coming of age; for girls, it can show that she can survive the pain of going through childbirth. Some tribes in Nigeria use facial scarring and modification as a form of beautification like our North Americans use Botox. Older cultures would modify the bones of their dead which was believed to aid these people in the afterlife and leave evidence for those who came after of what was before.

Today, a person who cuts themselves for pleasure can be hospitalized for mental instability. If you subject yourself to being cut by someone else without painkillers in a tattoo shop or get tattoos or piercings, you can be seen as somewhat of a freak in our society. You are piled into the same social reject bin as alcoholics, drug addicts and white supremacist skin heads. For the next generation it seems that our society will be more relaxed. It has become not only acceptable, but popular to have piercings and tattoos; we have all seen the Miami and LA Ink TV shows where it takes only eight minutes to complete a full color sleeve on someone’s arm… YA RIGHT! Will scarification and body modifications be the next big thing, or will it remain an underground culture?

I am the fairly typical white-girl-living-in-North America type. I have one stylish tattoo and the same-as-everyone-else nose & ear piercings. I have tested my body’s pain tolerance with those few items, but have never contemplated cutting myself or having implants of any sort. Medical surgery was enough for me to understand that I don’t enjoy being cut. Let’s be honest: it hurts and most people are afraid of pain and try to avoid it. I find the thought of being cut open with a scalpel by someone without a medical degree and without pain medication to be a scary thought. When it was arranged that I would meet Dan at Sacred Balance to sit in on one of his scarification pieces on his customer Jeremy Kidney, I had no idea what I was in for. I knew there would be blood, which I am really curious about, so hey what the fuck - let’s do it!

Dan has been performing body modifications since 1997. He has no formal training other than his degree in Zoology from the U of O accompanied by years of intense personal interest and study in human anatomy. Dan can pierce you; install custom Teflon and steel items under your skin; split your tongue or perform scarification on you - all that while wearing jeans and a t-shirt that says “Fucking Classy” on it. Nonetheless, Dan has strict ideas about what types of things people can have done to their body.

“The problem with this industry is you have to direct people on what will work for them. You can’t always do what you’ve seen,” says Dan. “I refused to do something that I don’t think will work.”

He has tried everything he will do to you on himself - he will not give you any room for whining if it hurts. If you’re a baby, this ain’t for you princess. Dan is a tough ass, but he believes in a sanitary and safe practice to create the best work possible which is good news for his clients.
Jeremy, Dan’s client of the day, is at first sight, your grandmother’s worst nightmare. Draped in dark-themed attire and over six feet tall, he totes a green Mohawk and has upwards of 20 facial piercings. Tattoos cover both of his arms and legs. There are metal bars implanted into his forearms and he could probably crush your skull with his bare hands. When you talk to Jeremy, you learn that he is a computer science instructor at the University of Calgary currently working on his Masters. He is extremely intelligent, witty and interesting. Jeremy is a regular client of Dan’s and today he wants complimentary scars around one of his tribal sleeves.

The preparation for the scarification is a five minute sketching session with a sharpie marker. Dan draws the design on Jeremy’s arm, puts on his gloves, a mask, and sanitizes the whole area before he pulls out his disinfected tools which consist of a lot of paper towel and a #11 scalpel. I am getting anxious; I can’t stand getting a paper cut. Jeremy is calm; in fact, he doesn’t even break a sweat. Right before the first cut I was really hoping some super dramatic music would play and maybe some blood, gore and aliens would come spilling out of Jeremy’s arm. Instead, there is no blood after the first cut and something inside of me dies when this happens – all of the glamour is gone. What we are seeing here is a man getting sliced with a sharp knife, and then sliced over and over in the same spot to ensure the lines are the same thickness. BORING! Especially with Jeremy as the recipient who is like a stone. The cutting goes on for about an hour, and when it’s over, the cuts that were done at the beginning of the appointment have now widened to almost ¼ inch in some places on his arm. All that is left to do is abuse the scab. The thing that differs from scars and tattoos is that you want to be as cruel to the scar as possible to get the best effect. The care instructions include: scratch, pick, peel, scrub, irritate, put salt in it, pick, pick and more pick. For all you scab picking, sick bastards maybe this is the body mod you have been waiting for.

Nowadays, scarification is aesthetic or symbolic, or at least for a majority of Dan’s clients it is. He gets people of all ages, backgrounds, men and women coming in with their ideas. He believes that it takes a certain amount of mental strength to submit to one of these procedures and also believes that is one of the main reasons people do it. It is a personal test of strength or survival like our friends in Africa, or a mark of something tragic or life-altering like our friends 200,000 years ago (or something straight up glamorous and cool). Although scarification is very unlikely to become as popular as tattooing or piercing, there is a higher demand for it now than there ever has been. This leads local Tattoo and Piercing shops like Sacred Balance to bring in specialists like Dan to perform these types of body mods. If you have an idea that is a little out of the ordinary, or want to test your personal pain tolerance by modifying your body with rods, balls, scars or implants, you should stop by Dan’s shop to see how deep he can cut you.