The Nerve Magazine - June 2006 by The Nerve Magazine

The Nerve June 2006 Page

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The Nerve June 2006 Page

CONTENTS

07 23 24 26 27 32 32 33 33 34 35

Sections

Cheap Shotz Live Album Reviews DVD Film Video Games Skate Ainsworth Books Crossword Comics

PSYCHOTROPIC PRAYER AND PROCESSED CHEESE

NONE MORE BLACK VS THE SAINTE CATHERINES

Devon Cody wasn’t the only Tool in Seattle last month

Catfight!

15 MUD RIVER

THE NERVE MAGAZINE

CONTENTS

23 YEAH YEAH YEAH

Features

NTR U O C C I M 0 COZ

...and not in your shorts

SHILOH LINDSEY

508 - 825 Granville St.,Vancouver, B.C.V6Z 1K9 604.734.1611 www.thenervemagazine.com info@thenervemagazine.com

This gal’s earmarked for the big time

COZMIC COUNTRY

The Don (a/k/a Editor-In-Chief and Publisher) Bradley C. Damsgaard editor@thenervemagazine.com

What your summer should sound like, as recommended by our panel of old creeps.

09 10 12 12 13 15 16 17

MAURICE SPIRA LANGSIDE GRUFF RHYS UPPER CANADIAN BLUES DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS THE SMOKES CALEXICO GRASS CITY

Wiseguy (a/k/a Music Editor) Adrian Mack mack@thenervemagazine.com Shotgun (a/k/a Film Editor) Michael Mann mann@thenervemagazine.com Map and Details (a/k/a Skate Shreditors) D-Rock and Miss Kim Launderer (a/k/a Book Editor) Devon Cody cody@thenervemagazine.com The Henchmen (a/k/a Design & Graphics) Dale De Ruiter, Aviva Rotstein Weapons Cleaner (a/k/a Article Editor) Jon Azpiri Surveillance Team (a/k/a Photographers) Devon Cody, Dale De Ruiter, Miss Toby Marie The Muscle (a/k/a Staff Writers) Jason Ainsworth, Cowboy TexAss, Chris Walter, Jason Schreurs, Adam Simpkins, Therese Lanz, Carl Spackler, David Bertrand, Phil Heidenreich, Ferdy Belland, Dave Von Bentley, Devon Cody, Dale De Ruiter, Derek Bolen, Tony Newton, Andrew Molloy, Boy Howdy Plaster Caster (a/k/a Cover Design) Miss Toby Marie Original Cover Photo: Ian Parker Fire Insurance (a/k/a Advertising) Brad Damsgaard advertise@thenervemagazine.com The Kid (a/k/a The Intern) Aviva Rotstein Out-of-town Connections (a/k/a Distro & Street Team) Toronto: Rosina Tassone Calgary: Mike Taylor Edmonton: Freecloud Records, Shauna Sirockman Winnipeg: Margo Voncook Whitehorse: Jordi and Jeremy Jones Victoria/Whistler: Jono Jak, Lindsay Seattle/Bellingham: Frank Yahr The Nerve is published monthly by The Nerve Magazine Ltd. The opinions expressed by the writers and artists do not necessarily reflect those of The Nerve Magazine or its editors. The Nerve does not accept responsibility for content in advertisements. The Nerve reserves the right to refuse any advertisement or submission and accepts no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts or artwork. All content © Copyright The Nerve Magazine 2006. Est. 1999

The Nerve June 2006 Page

The Nerve June 2006 Page ILLUSTRATION: TANSY QUECUTTETES

cheap shotz I Am Better Than You Deep Inside with Tansy Quelcuttetes It all started with Kano Toyo’s exhibition of live blogging at the Paux-Xi Gallery on the first day of the month. Toyo is the most amazing person that ever lived, and it was great to see so many people (3) make it to this event. It was a very special night, because Toyo couldn’t think of anything to write about. It was impossible to tear your eyes away. Justin said,

Pride Tiger on the 12th, but there were so many people there that Justin vomited from the lameness. Haters. Why don’t they all go back to “Granville St” or whatever it’s called. I’ve honestly never been there. Like, where is it, even? Justin’s new band the Book of Pants opened for the other Justin’s new band Insects Can Talk at a new club in an undisclosed location that isn’t open yet. We did that so we didn’t have to see anybody we don’t already know. Nobody turned up – what the fuck is wrong with you,Vancouver?

ILLUSTRATION: TANSY QUECUTTETES

The Cobalt Returns! On the sixth day of the sixth month on this sixth year of the new millennium, the scum will rise again.Yes folks - the city has shut down the Astoria and chased the spike and leather clad hordes back to their old haunt at 917 Main St. However, sources tell The Nerve that, in effort to draw in the yuppies now inhabiting the freshly condo-fied area, the Cobalt staff is currently working on installing a sprinkler system that releases a burst of perfumed baby tears into the air at timed intervals. Other plans include mail-order bathroom

“It’s like the silence between tracks on the new Liars album, but for six hours, with a Japanese guy.” He is right. We formed a band immediately afterwards, and then I opened a club in my living room. Justin played drums for the first time and we all wore t-shirts with anagrams on them. For the eight people that were there, it was probably unforgettable. I went to see Justin’s new band, the Scandinavian Institute of Dance, at a new club Justin’s brother just opened. It was rad and I’ll never be the same. After a spontaneous display of audience fingerpainting – OMG, so much fun! - Justin opened a club in the next room, and invited a guy who is really good friends with Stephen McBean to perform 90 minutes of atonal whistling, which changed the lives of everybody who was there. The next day we all went to see a new exhibition of Pir Ruminoonie’s breakfast at the Glib, a gallery which opened only minutes before in her ex-boyfriend’s kitchen. It was great to see so many people from the night before, like Justin, Justin’s brother, and the other Justin. Vancouver has so much talent, but you never read about it in the Georgia Straight. We tried to see

label spotlight

With two superb releases already under its belt,Vancouver’s Submerged Records offers further proof that the city’s independent music scene is healthier than ever. Submerged’s role in this continuing renaissance has been to hold down the ‘nu-gazing’ end of things, with Hinterland’s second fulllength, The Picture Plane, and Windows 78’s recent debut The Window Seat. Both albums have elicited the kind of reviews that contain words like “crystalline”, “cascading”, “dreamy”, and the ever-popular “shimmering”. Indeed, Hinterland also appeared on Club AC30’s love letter to the early ’90s soundtrack of chiming dream pop, Never Lose that Feeling.

attendants freshly imported from the third world country of your choice, a strict rule that all staff wear only Lululemon clothing, and three dollar mojito drink specials seven days a week. Check it out! And trust me, you haven’t quite lived until you’ve sipped on a mojito, admiring Mr. Plow’s ass in a pair of Lululemon knickers.

who gives a fuck

This month - Morgan McDonald, keyboardist with the Buttless Chaps. What album is currently in your Stereo? Turntable – Ghosts of the Great Highway, Sun Kil Moon Tape – Astrology Songs, Harvey Sid Fisher CD – Meddle, Pink Floyd What book are you currently reading or have most recently read? Statics and Mechanics of Materials (brushing up) What was the last movie you watched? Sword of Doom, 1965 Samurai classic Name one album, movie or book you consistently recommend to friends. Console, Rocket in the Pocket. Deadly German beats. Name one album, movie or book you would recommend to an enemy? The Ingenuity Gap by Thomas Homer Dixon. While they waste their time reading this tripe, I’ll be plotting against them. What is a recent guilty pleasure? Beer in the bath. I’m post-bath as I write this. What is your biggest pet peeve? The pro-nuclear lobby. I thought we already decided that was a bad idea. And if you want to test some new technology, you’d better start really fucking small. “Clean coal” is a close second. Grown men and women can’t bring themselves to say the phrase with a straight face, so they’ve hired the Welch’s squirts to do their dirty work. Name one bad habit you are extremely proud of? Gluttony. (Road name: “Mighty Appetighty”) If you could hang out with any one person throughout history who would it be? Beethoven, though he might be rather sullen, in which case I’d choose Archimedes. What is one thing you want to get done before you die? Discover something revolutionary while bathing.

and secured distro through Scratch, i-Tunes, Hinterland also forms Submerged’s cor. zunio or vend e onlin the Canadian-centric operative brain trust; a situation that came city, publi les hand eat Killb r’s ouve com.Vanc d about early in 2006 when the band foun s and Maximum Music tracks radio play. Luca and can the in album . itself with a new work their t abou us and co. are clearly serio rist nothing to do with it. Since then, as guita ence pres its make to label a for Is it harder John Lucas explains, things have fallen into s felt, out here in Canada’s backyard? “I gues of s shard ding casca ng place like shimmeri e you’r what for it makes getting attention crystalline… okay, you get the picture. ia doing a little more difficult and our med has that “Basically, any independent label of the rest the to out get ly ssari nece n’t does a staked out its own turf and has a sound, country,” Lucas admits, but adds, ”There’s it set that s thing g doin of way a style and it a whole sort of indie idea – and I know apart from the other contenders out there rouve Vanc just not and re, ywhe exists ever can – I think there’s really nothing better you the es, fring that the farther you are out in the I was hope for,” Lucas says. “On a local level, g. I doin e you’r what in more honour you have le; actually directly influenced by White Wha lly; actua de, attitu hit bulls a of bit a think that’s as they operate pretty much as a collective n to reaso a and ed, inaliz marg stay to n reaso a and well. They’re putting out stuff they love, not try very hard.” I le. peop of circle -knit close very a d they’re To that end, Lucas reports that Submerge what for el mod look to them as being a good load. work its asing incre into ing look is now we can do.” “We sort of have our antennae up, so dy alrea has d erge Subm life, t In its shor

The New Vinyl

Records Too Expensive These Days? How About Collecting Shitty VHS Tapes, Instead? This month: Trance Found: Rogers Video, Calgary. $2.00. Plot: Simone is a disaffected teenager obsessed with a mysterious new wave superstar known only as “R”. She runs away from home, and meets R. Then they do “it”. When she realizes R is only using her as an underage cum-bag, Simone goes nuts and kills him. She dismembers the body, cooks it, eats it, grinds R’s bones into powder and chucks it at a bunch of his fans. Is it Ass? NO!!! This is a fabulous movie. Released in 1982, it was originally called Der Fan. Desiree Nosbusch, as Simone, spends about a third of the film nude. R is supposed to be like David Bowie, but is actually more like Peter “Major Tom” Schilling, crossed with Trio. The soundtrack is a tinny, synthesized wonder, and R’s big hit (my German’s a little rusty since I was re-located by the CIA during Project Paperclip) is called something

like “Augen Blick”. It seems to be playing in the background almost constantly. This arty gore film is full of people doing incredibly German things: Simone weeps gently as she dismembers R; a fat, sweaty asshole tries to rape Simone in the back of his car, and he makes his dog watch; Simone defiantly tells her teacher, “I’ve been having some trouble with my period.” I guess you don’t have to be German to do any of those things, but Trance is all steely and depressing, with harsh new wave lighting and that crap soundtrack – but it’s also totally pretentious, draws an explicit connection between pop culture and National Socialism, and – (not to labour the point), Simone is naked most of the time. She shaves her head at the end, returns to the family bosom, and they don’t notice anything different about her. This is my new favourite film. Did I mention “Augen Blick”? AUGENBLICK! Rare? Not anymore - it was just released on DVD. - Herman Menervemanan

to speak, and there are some acts in Vancouver that we’re definitely interested a in working with, and again it will work on d unde self-f be will ct proje co-op basis. Each we s urce reso the all to ss acce have but will have; all the very fine people that we work ever with, and our knowledge base, which is se “hou d’s erge Subm w Thro increasing…” a producer” Caleb Stull into the mix, plus c musi se licen to rds deal with Endearing Reco a quite to up adds all it and for film and TV, os? honey-pot. Does Submerged accept dem bbing thro a Lucas sighs, no doubt picturing that inbox. “We actually put on our website “I s. laugh he os,” dem pting acce we’re not listen think that sort of scared people. But I’ll in.” ‘em send a to demos if people wann - Adrian Mack Windows 78 and Hinterland will be appearing on Friday, June 9th at the Railway Club, with Notes and North

The Nerve June 2006 Page

CONTENTS

Anarchist, Atheist, Artist

By Allan MacInnis

ILLUS: FOUNDATION, BY MAURICE SPIRA, PHOTO: THOMAS ZIORJEN

unshine Coast artist Maurice Spira is there and have a shit in the middle of the road, no stranger to controversy. In 1997, a I’m too well conditioned to do that, but I think mural he did for Unity Skateboards was it is fascinating…” ordered taken down after a mere five days, Compost, too, has meaning to Spira, when the local Native band, whose land the although he uses rabbit shit, not human, to shop occupied, protested the content. “I had fertilize his organic garden. “People say that as a skeleton skateboarding on a crucifix on an atheist you’re missing out on some of the wheels, with its foot on Christ’s face, plus I deeper material in life, and I say it’s a bunch had a joint on a skateboard going along being of crap, y’know? I open up my compost and chased by a sort of Keystone Cops figure, and here is a cosmology, and a deeper meaning the chief said, ‘We can’t subject our youth to about transitional form in life that is so much these kinds of images.’” His upcoming shows more profound than your ridiculous, imaginary at the Grunt Gallery (June 16- July 29th) and supposed deities and their dreadfully psychotic at Paneficio Studios (June 17-19) will also trips that they pull…” court controversy. One prospective title for Spira’s hostility toward the Paneficio Studios organized religion will be show was “M. Spira’s very much in evidence at Decapitation-Defecathe two summer shows. tion Weekend.” One piece, Fountain, shows Since gaping anuses a statue representing appear frequently in the three monotheisms, m not saying I’ Spira’s more outlandChristianity, Judaism, and t ish works, I asked him Islam, beheading itself in a I would go ou it if they had any special corporate boardroom, as sh a e v a h there and significance. headless sycophants bow e th f o le “I suppose that my around it, bums raised. d id m in the response to that should “The three systems are road… be to say that I don’t absolutely delusional have any indoor toilet.... systems, where the disAlso I think that, you ciple literally becomes know, putting food in, headless and you give and shit coming out, is up all possibility of the something that infants ability to critically evaluare very interested in, ate who you are or where you’re headed.” and I think that adults are too, except that Fountain will only be on display at Paneficio, it’s taboo. When people go to cultures where run by Spira’s friend, artist Richard Tetrault. squatting in public and shitting is common, Though he acknowledges there are surreal they’re horrified. I’m not saying I would go out elements in paintings like Fountain, Spira is

irritated when people label him a surrealist. “What they mean is, oh, it’s not flowers in a vase… Over the years, people have suggested that I’m an expressionist, a social realist, a surrealist, and a number of other things. I have not wanted to agree to any of these titles. They seem insufficient.” Spira, whose work is also influenced by underground comics and the satirical Calaveras (skeletons) of Jose Guadalupe Posada, would rather be abused than labeled. “I remember a comment in the guest book at a show I had up on the coast years ago, and this comment was, ‘M. Spira is sick,’ and I thought, okay, this is good, I can accept this!” Spira came to Canada in the 1960s as “a young Marxist, and then an anarchist in a somewhat doctrinaire style,” but has long abandoned his “blueprints” for changing the world. “I simply haven’t the stamina to be that

way today, and it’s counterproductive as an artist… I now try to balance out my irritability and anger and my sometimes ferocious critique of what I consider to be really abhorrent and ugly traits in contemporary life with humour… I do know anti-authoritarians and anarchists who find [my work] a little cynical and self-serving, and that doesn’t bother me. If someone wants me to join them in some Utopian commune on an island to make anarchism work, I’m not gonna…” Spira hastens to add, however, that he’s not a “sullen misanthrope” or nihilist. He happily shares his garden, runs a life drawing group, belongs to a film club, has a girlfriend, and is a member of the Canadian artist’s rights group, CARFAC. I asked Spira if he has been able to sustain himself with art, and he laughed. “It’s a question of low overhead.” Not owning a car, computer, or television, and heating his home “exclusively with wood,” which he splits himself, he has avoided wage labour for a number of years. Aside from the money he makes off paintings and prints, when need arose, he has taken work as a model and done illustration jobs. His work has appeared in the antiauthoritarian journal The Fifth Estate. He’s even designed tattoos and done custom paintings on guitars. M. Spira’s show at Grunt opens on Friday the 16th at 8PM, with an artist’s talk 2PM Saturday. The opening for the Paneficio show – which will be completely different, and include recent landscape work – will be at 7PM on the 17th. His work will soon be featured in SubTerrain, and is also viewable on his site: www.mauricespira.com. n

The Nerve June 2006 Page

CONTENTS

Langside From Two Points of View T

he plot of Chris Walter’s latest book the bridge, you’re running a high risk of getLangside revolves around two main char- ting stabbed. Stay in your territory. Osborne’s acters: Sky - a Metis teenager facing the pretty neutral. Nobody really does shit there. dilemma of whether or not to involve himself Even coming back from a show at the Royal with an aboriginal gang, and Brew - a cop who Albert Arms around there is pretty rough hates his job and his partner, but finds compas- because you’ve got to go in front of Portage sion for the people living in a dysfunctional Place and they’ve got the [Indian Posse] station neighbourhood. The title is taken from a street there. They try to rob you or go after you that is at the heart of this neighbourhood with knives if you’ve got money or something, – Winnipeg’s West End. It’s a district that hosts or if you’ve got booze, or if you’re just drunk. the highest concentration of crime in a city They’ll just roll you for whatever. Stay on the that bears the reputation as the murder capital other side of the bridge after dark. Then you’re of Canada. I’ve often found that once a person clear. takes the effort to see past the grim exterior Nerve: Can you recall a personal experiof these places, some of the most colourful, ence you’ve had in this neighbourhood complex, and downright friendly people a perthat is especially memorable? son could ever hope to meet are discovered. Dennison: I can remember, as a uniformed Langside does well officer, my partner and I were working in to illustrate this with that area, just on the most three-digeneral patrol. I’m mensional characters not sure if it was Winnipeg has Walter has created Langside. I think it to date. was actually Furby St. gone to shit in I’ve never even that we were driving been to Winnipeg, down in the middle the last couple years, let alone spent any of the summertime. man. Crystal M measure of time in We ended up slameth the crime-ridden ming on our brakes is ta k in g o v er. All my district the story because we had this takes place in. But group of two or friends are fuc ked. after reading it, I three-week-old little was curious what golden lab puppies people with direct that come running experience with out in front of our car. the neighbourhood thought We got out of our car of Walter’s fictional rendering. What follows to find out where all these dogs are two conversations, two perspectives from were coming from. Well, they were actually two very different people – Sergeant Kelly coming from an individual living in a rooming Dennison, a Winnipeg police officer, and Ryan, house there. He had no money. He didn’t have a transient Winnipegger who spends much of anything. But this dog and him went everyhis winters on the streets here in Vancouver. where. The dog was his best friend, put it that Nerve: How are you connected to the way. Well, the dog had puppies. He doesn’t neighbourhood that is portrayed in this have the money to feed the puppies or do book? anything like that but he was so attached to Sergeant Kelly Dennison: My connection to these animals it was unbelievable. He had no that neighbourhood would be more on a money and he just wanted a good home for professional basis. I’ve been a police officer for his pups. I’m in uniform and he’s trying to 18 years now and I can honestly say that the give both my partner and I a puppy to take bulk of my career has been spent dealing with with us. Obviously, I couldn’t take one at the the core centre of Winnipeg, where that area time. But [at the end of our shift] we went is. I’ve worked there as a general patrol officer, down and saw him again and we both ended an undercover officer, and a vice investigator. up buying a puppy from him. The dog’s passed It just so happens that now I’m in a public away now. This is like 15 years ago, but it’s just information position. I’ve done a lot of work something I’ll never forget. in the area so I know it very well. Ryan: I’ve got a perfect one actually. I was Ryan: I lived on Broadway and Langside and with a bunch of American train-hoppers and Broadway and Furby. It’s like right in the we were just sitting on River and Osborne, neighbourhood. Plus I have a whole shit load just drinking behind the… I guess it’s Subway of friends who live all around there. A have a now. A couple Deuce guys tried to rob the family member who is pretty high up in the American kids for their bottles. Because they Indian Posse now. Actually I called my Mom on were drinking cider. Americans love cider. I’m Saturday and she wasn’t home. I talked to my getting’ on that kick too. Anyways, the Deuce step-dad and he said my mom was out bailing guy’s got a gun to this guy’s head and the guy my sister out of Women’s Correctional or grabs it and sticks it right to his forehead and something. Another assault or something or was like ‘Come on do it.You won’t make it other. She’s not learning, I guess. half a block.’ - because there was like six of us Nerve: Briefly, how would you describe against two. The Deuce guy just got scared and this neighbourhood to someone who’s was like ‘Forget it.’ And the Americans got to never been there? keep their booze. Dennison: There’s a higher crime rate in those Nerve: How well do you think Chris Walareas. That’s a fact.You have a lot of people ter rendered this neighbourhood and living in that area that are on social assistance handled the subject matter? or have low paying jobs. They don’t have a lot Dennison: It’s funny because first of all - I’ve of money. That area is known for attracting got to be honest with you - when I agreed to a lot of transient people. There’s definitely a do this and you sent me the book and I agreed drug problem in the area. There’s a prostituto read it – I’m very busy – I didn’t really know tion problem in the area.You put all those if I wanted to do this. But I got to reading the things together and you’ve got a clientele book and I actually quite enjoyed it. I found the that’s forced to reside in an area that is very book entertaining. high in crime. Ryan: I think he did pretty damned good. There Ryan: Stay in Osborne after dark.You cross were things that need to be corrected, but The Nerve June 2006 Page 10

now everything’s pretty much right on. Like crystal - completely different thing. Gangs are against it.You can get stabbed and beat up for selling stuff like that. Chris worked it out. He figured it out. Nerve: What was the book’s greatest strength? Sergeant Kelly Dennison: The descriptions of the area and the descriptions of some of the events – obviously they’re not fact based – but he knows what he’s talking about when he’s talking about the area. There’s no doubt. That comes through in the book. It’s obvious that he knows what the youth centre looks like because he described it to a tee. (Perhaps he’s spent some time there? Book Ed.) Ryan: Oh, I think Brew being the nice cop. There’s always nice and asshole partners. It’s pretty much like that. I could list off a string of names here right now but I’m not going to. Nerve: What was the book’s greatest weakness? Dennison: I really enjoyed the book until I got to the end and I was hoping for so much more. I read the end of the book and I’m going ‘Oh, come on! Give me a break.’ I just thought no, no. It just doesn’t work that way. It was a good reflection of the area and some of the stuff that goes on down there. Especially when he’s talking about the two guys going and having a fight in the yard and beating the hell out

of each other and then going back to have a beer and play poker.You don’t realize how true that is! Even when he starts talking about the landlord after [Derry] dies leaving the mother there and how the landlord takes advantage of the situation - very realistic. And then when the young fella breaks into the house, again realistic, but not so realistic that he would break into a home in that area - especially a gang member of that sort. Those areas are their areas. They tend to protect their area and for them to basically, for the lack of a better word, shit in their own back yard - it just doesn’t happen that way. Then for a policeman to give the kid a gun from his ankle?! Uniformed police officers in Canada haven’t had guns in their ankle since the 1800s. Those went out with horses and sheriff badges.

By Devon Cody

Ryan: I don’t even know. Maybe Derry getting killed and his friend Calvin trying to do something to the Mom. I don’t think that’s too plausible. Because normally if something like that happens, everybody’s just going to band together. Another thing is if [Sky] was going to break into the house, he wouldn’t have done it right there. It’d be way out towards Arlington, the bigger houses or St. Mary’s or something. Nerve: Who was your favourite character in the book and why? Dennison: Derry. I just thought, ‘What an accurate depiction of a father in that area!’ I thought ‘Wow, this guy’s really hit the nail on the head with this one!’ With the alcoholic background… and they just don’t go out. It’s funny, going out to him meant going to [The Sherbrook Inn] to watch wrestling. And he got dressed up for that and it was a big deal for him, which is soooo realistic down in that area. (laughs) That’s the way it is. Ryan: Derry. Because that’s going to be me when I grow up. (laughs) Nerve: Why do you think aboriginal gang activity is so rampant, specifically throughout the Prairie Provinces? Dennison:You take a look across the country where the largest aboriginal populations are, you’re going to find them in the Prairie Provinces, for one. Some of the largest influx of aboriginal persons living off reserves are in the major centres in the Prairie Provinces. Like in Winnipeg or Regina for example. Once you even get into Alberta and British Columbia, you see more well developed reserves.You don’t see as many aboriginal persons living in a poverty stricken urban centre like you do here in Winnipeg and Regina. Ryan: Well, because mainly they are aboriginal cities and it’s all the family abuse. They need to feel like they have a family. That’s totally it. 100 percent. If I didn’t know you and we grew up in the same town, your dad’s gonna punch you in the head when he’s drunk every night, and my dad’s gonna punch me in the head when he’s drunk every night. We’re gonna want to go hang out somewhere else and drink and have some fun. And when you get large concentrations of people like that – like there is all over Winnipeg – they’re going to band together and take their anger out on someone else. Nerve: How do you see this issue evolving in the next five to 10 years? Do you see something that might inspire hope in people, in particular, people who live in the area? Dennison: Oh definitely, I see it changing now. Talking about aboriginal gangs and youth being involved in aboriginal gangs. We’re seeing less every day. There was a day when aboriginal gangs were something very prominent in the prairies and they aren’t so much anymore. We still have a gang problem. Don’t get me wrong. But you don’t see it specific to an ethnic group anymore. Ryan: Winnipeg has gone to shit in the last couple years, man. Either everybody’s either going to die off or it’s going to keep bringing people in. Crystal Meth is taking over. All my friends are fucked. There’re not really any cool bars anymore. Everybody’s just into the drugs and I’d rather go sit under the bridge and drink by myself. n

CONTENTS

Psychotropic Prayer & Processed Cheese Tools for Enlightenment I

used to pray to God.Yep. Of my own free wanted to go into things with as untainted a will too. It was a severe concussion that mind as a dirtbag like myself can possibly have. really started it all. The night my 200Even as we drove down to Seattle with the pound cousin stepped on my head while playalbum playing on the stereo I blocked it out ing a game called Gray Ghost in my grandparusing a technique I learned from an old poents’ farmyard was the night I willingly invited lygamous Mormon friend of mine. And so I sat God into my life. It’s an elaborate story but the there in my aural bastion both eager and sceplong and short of it has me sitting in the back tical. Would I enjoy the show or would it be of my folks’ Aerostar en route to the hospital, another let down? Is Tool only good when I’m only partially coherent, mostly scared shitless being bad? I had considered rectally smuggling and totally convinced my brain was damaged. I some zoomers across the border as insurdecided it was in my best interests to take up ance, but I’d just come home from a week in a conversation with the Lord. Things turned Tennessee spent ingesting a whole lotta pulled out fine and I left the hospital the next day pork, baked beans and cheap American beer. I a good God-fearing kid. That is, until I came decided it wasn’t a wise idea. Fortunately, my across the music video for “Sober” several road-trip mates turned me on to a whole new years later. I’ll never forget the feeling I got high: American Junk Food. after seeing that creepy little fucker pet the We stopped across the border and loaded string of raw meat as it coursed through that up with illicit varieties of snacks that you just rusty pipe. The singer and guitarist of the band can’t find here in Canada. Habanero Doritos had some kind of autistic Linda Blair thing goanyone? I’ll take ‘em! Red Hot Chilli Cheesies? ing on as well that I found a little unsettling. I Why thank you kind sir! Processed, Preshaped distinctly remember changing the channel and Pork and Chicken Meat Snacks? Hit me up feeling like I’d let God down by watching what with a bag of each!! Canned Jalapeno Cheese I just had seen. It was like Satan had touched Dip Stored at Room Temperature? Praise me on my pink parts. I felt guilty and dirty.Yet Jesus! Load the rig and stick in my vein!!! deep down there was an uneasy curiosity that By the time we hit Everett I existed in a wavered from repulsion to fascination. It was different dimension. The yellow dashes on the a feeling I would reacquaint myself with years highway morphed into beautiful swaying slices later while really high on magic mushrooms. of processed cheese that lead me bite by tasty You see, back in ’93 I was young and pure and bite to Shambhala, to ecstasy, to oblivion! …to in the tender thrall of Seattle. A swarm of puberty. Any chemipeople clad in various cals coursing through shades of black milled my body were purely about outside the products of an overacParamount Theatre. tive pituitary gland and I made my way my underdeveloped though the crowd A strange craving testicles. It wasn’t until and heard the calls for Country Fried some time later - when of people willing to my hormones had pay as much as $250 Steak Corn Twists somewhat stabilized for a single ticket. - that I chose to creWhen it occurred rippled inside me like ate my own chemical to me how much an orgasm imbalances and engage Chilli Con Carne in a different kind of Flavoured Bacon Puffs “prayer”. One fine and Aerosol Cheese evening, I introduced I could purchase my innards to a tasty with that amount of treat scientist-types like money, I hesitated at to call psilocybin and the doors. But it was put a newly purchased album on the stereo only for a moment – I’m a man who knows called Ænima. I laid down on the floor of my his limits. bedroom with gaping black holes for eyes and The timing was perfect. Just as I settled smugly resisted my carpet’s sneaky attempts into my third row seat, the lights dimmed and to swallow me whole. Such was the start of a Adam Jones sauntered on stage to set the beautiful friendship. mood with “Lost Keys” – not really a song That was 10 years ago. It was a time when so much as an elementary intro for the next you’d find Tool in my top five favourite bands one. As Jones plucked casually at his instruon any given day. However now I am older, ment, his band mates took the stage: Danny wiser and “soberer”. Tool has slipped signifiCarey (looking freakishly tall) Justin Chancellor cantly down these ranks. I’ve wondered if I’d (hairier than ever and, had he been dressed grown out of them. Both their disappointing, in a loincloth, one would somewhat self-indulgent 2001 release Lateralus think he was fresh from and their merely satisfactory live show at a mammoth hunt) and GM Place did very little to help this matter. Maynard James Keenan Whereas normally I’d check into Tool’s web(sporting cowboy boots, site for band updates on a sufficiently nerdy cowboy hat, and dungarees basis, it was by my own design that I didn’t complete with a belt buckle find out about their latest album 10000 Days you could serve a meal until just a couple weeks prior to its release. I on.) They’ve always been a had moved onto more interesting things, like bit of a mismatched band developing social skills and having sex with but tonight it was particugirls. Still, when I was invited to Seattle to go larly evident. They kicked see Tool at the Paramount Theatre on May into the chugging rhythm 2nd, I inevitably squealed like a little Catholic of “Rosetta Stoned” and schoolgirl and wet myself a little. Keenan strutted around To keep the experience pure, I purposefully centre stage spitting lyrics avoided any press and pirated copies of 10000 into a bullhorn he had slung Days and didn’t purchase the album prior to at his side. Before long, he the show. My loyalty was on the line and I assumed his usual position

on a backlit platform next to the drum kit only momentarily leaving this spot throughout the set. Despite my MSG-infused state of mind, the impact of the opening songs was a little weak as a result of bad sound. It wasn’t until halfway through “Forty-six & 2” – the fourth song in – that the soundman (sort-of) found his levels and you could actually make out Keenan’s vocals. Trying not to let the sound deficiencies get me down, I zoned in on Adam Jones as he fingered the opening portion of “Jambi”. Barely moving his left hand, he sent bursts of machine gun riffage exploding from his instrument. Trans-fats magically slathered the walls of my arteries and the stage was suddenly awash in blood-red light. Jones began a talk box guitar solo that would leave me picking curdled cerebral fluid from my ears which, at the time, I imagined would go good in poutine. So I saved them. And it’s true. A mean poutine I did make. But I digress. Jones finished, then scanned the crowd with shrouded, stoic eyes. I gained a new appreciation for this strange looking man’s abilities and dug deep into my pocket in search of the vacuum-sealed pickled sausage I had saved for the occasion. Crowd interaction was minimal throughout the set. As expected, Keenan only took a couple opportunities to speak. He thanked everyone for coming, poked fun at Seattle’s coffee culture, and encouraged those who had bought their tickets from scalpers to “buy the album once you’re done paying off your loans.” It was a little dig in response to fan complaints at how difficult it was to get your hands on tickets for these small venue shows. With the exception of “Vicarious” what

By Devon Cody

followed was really a more intimate repeat of the Lateralus tour. It consisted of many of the same songs accompanied by the same freaky visuals. This was both good and bad: Bad, because I expected more of a showcase of their new album - especially since I had yet to hear the whole thing. And good, because when they were playing the older, familiar material, Keenan’s performance seemed more uninhibited and genuine. When he was singing the new stuff, he appeared a little detached or preoccupied - perhaps over-thinking as opposed to just channelling the music. One exception to this critique was the performance of “The Pot”. Coincidentally, this song has the straightforward power and structure of older, Undertow-era Tool and is probably the best track on the new album. The set approached an intense and turbulent end with songs “Sober”, and “Lateralus” setting the audience up for something explosive. The band, the music, and the crowd seemed to fuse, becoming ever more potent as spiralling imagery swirled hypnotically on the screens at the back of the stage. A strange craving for Country Fried Steak Corn Twists rippled inside me like an orgasm. But, all the delicious tension they had built suddenly went bland when they kicked into “Vicarious” – the second last song of the set. The music became self-conscious and a climax didn’t quite materialize. “Ænema” was a solid closer, but wasn’t enough to make up for lost momentum. Call me constipated, but for me it lacked a release. Perhaps it was the cheese dip. Despite my potentially overcritical whining, I still have to say my appreciation for the band is rejuvenated - as I’m sure will be the case with many waning fans. Regardless of the shortcomings of this particular concert, the new album is fucking great! With it being only their second show after nearly a four-year hiatus, there was bound to be some kinks to work out. Actually I think it’s quite brave of the guys to begin this tour in small venues. Stadium shows are surely more forgiving. In the meantime, I suppose I’ll just pray they amp it up, iron it out and bring Vancouver something a little better than a really good rehearsal. n The Nerve June 2006 Page 11

Super Fuzzy Connection

ith his thick Welsh burr and tendency to speak in metaphor, Gruff Rhys, charming gnome savant and frontman for Super Furry Animals, is difficult to follow at the best of times. On the numerous occasions we have spoken over the years, Rhys has expounded on American foreign policy, Don Henley, Brazil, Love, space eggs and Kylie Minogue, listed off the best record shops in North Carolina, expressed his desire to build a laser that would make people smarter and, on our last meeting, spent two hours photographing a day-old cupcake with electric blue icing. Gamely agreeing to an interview on a spotty cellphone connection, just 10 minutes before SFA are to take the stage at the Hi: Fi Festival in Winchester, England, Rhys is even harder to follow than usual. “Perhaps you can hear The Go Team! playing in the background.” says Rhys, who, given SFA’s notorious stage shows, is likely dressed in an LED jumpsuit, Power Ranger helmet or

Gruff Rhys

Yeti costume. Yes you can. And nothing else. Ostensibly, Rhys is shouting down the line to discuss his impending solo jaunt through Canada, opening for Bright Eyes and playing songs from his debut album, Yr Atal Genhadlaeth (The Stuttering Generation), which was quietly released last year. The music is a fair departure from anything SFA have done – stripped down and folky in some places, reliant on strange and cheap Casio-beats in others and sung entirely in Welsh. With the crowd screaming in the background, the obvious thing to ask is why Rhys would depart from his band during the busy summer festival season to plug a year-old record in Canada, opening for the artist whose body of work answers the musical question “What if Elmer Fudd was an emo kid?” “We’ve been following each other’s careers for a long time,” says Rhys, taking several 10 second pauses mid-sentence. “He [Bright Eyes mastermind Conor Oberst] was signed when

CONTENTS

By Elaine Corden

he was 17 by the same man that signed us to Creation, so we’ve always been aware of each other’s work. I think we share a lot of interests musically and politically.” And while it’s true that Rhys and Oberst both dabble in electronic beats, left wing politics and traditional folk songs, it remains that the artists are musical chalk and cheese. “I suppose we are…” says Rhys, sounding painfully disoriented but denying the influence of any festival party favours. With the poor connection masking obvious contempt for Bright Eyes on one side of the line, it seems wise to move on. Several conversational gambits draw baffling, scrambled answers across the Atlantic, and it becomes clear that this will be nowhere near the psychedelic trip of a normal chat with Rhys. In the end, all that’s confirmed is that Rhys is awake and sober, a Bright Eyes fan, and possibly dressed as a robot.Viva la cellphone!

But perhaps it’s fitting that Rhys should prove so utterly incomprehensible yet strangely compelling– the all-Welsh album he’s promoting enjoys the same description. Catch him June 4th at the highly under-rated Malkin Bowl. He’ll be the one that didn’t nail Winona Ryder. n

None More Black vs Ste. Catherines W

e asked None More Black and the Ste. Catherines to interview each other, in the hopes that an eruption in space-time might occur, and cancel both of them out. Regrettably, our experiment backfired and both bands instead became much, much stronger. Now they’re all coming to Vancouver on some sort of ‘tour’ (June 3rd, Pub 340). We take full responsibility.

None More Black: Name your top ten movies Hugo (vocals – Ste. Catherines): Teen Wolf, Leprechaun in Da Hood, The Goonies, Ghostbuster 2, and Critters 3 (very rare!!!) None More Black: Can you name 10 Motorhead songs? Hugo: “Ace of Spades”, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”, “Summer of 69”, “Quit Playing Games with my Heart”, “Eat the Rich”, “Blue Suede Shoes”, “Stairway to Heaven”, “Street City Kids”, “My Name is Mud”, “Nookie”. None More Black:Top 5 bands of all time? Hugo: Tom, the Boss, Hank, the Man in Black, the King None More Black: Which one of you has a vegetarian poutine hook up in Montreal that you will be taking us to multiple times in one day? Hugo: We all have the hook ups, dawg. We’ll treat you right with some great poutine from Patatipatata. They also have a couple great veggie treats like burgers and dogs. It will

be the best time of your life. None More Black: How fucking awesome is Voivod? Piggy R.I.P. Hugo: They are pretty fucking loud. I liked the Pink Floyd cover when the drums were spinning around in the video.

The Ste. Catherines: If your band was an animal, what would it be and why? Paul: We’re like a pack of laughing hyenas cause all we do is laugh, but we’ll still fuck you up! The Ste. Catherines: If your animal was a band, what would it be and why? (example - my cat would be Tupac cuz he got shot) Paul: Well we all have pets, fuck it. Metallica - cause they’re the best fucking band in the world! And Bart, Mookie, Bones, Ollie, Squirt, Captain, Willie, Rocky,Vinnie, my other cat we never named, if you want the actual run down! The Ste. Catherines: Who shot Tupac and why?

upper canadian blues

Paul: I don’t really know. Not much of a fan of Tupac. I’m picky with rap. I have my suspicions though, but that might get us shot, so I’ll just tell you on tour. Check out the documentary Biggie and Tupac.You’ll see. The Ste. Catherines: What’s the name of the magician in Harry Potter, and why? Paul: Magician? Don’t you mean Wizard? Don’t insult us like that. No magicians here. The Ste. Catherines: Can you lend me 20 dollars? (Please don’t ask me why.) Paul: Four dollars? What do you need three dollars for? n

Music notes from in, out and around Toronto, ON

The Nerve June 2006 Page 12

LAN G

their latest album The Big Picture, a markedly mature effort that features less burps and farts than the last one. The band plays a number of Warped Tour dates across Canada this summer... Sailboats Are White are a pissy bunch and they must’ve throttled just enough gullets by now, as noted record impressionato Alan McGee (the stinky man responsible for introducing the planet to the Jesus and Mary Chain and Oasis, amongst others) has signed the four-piece to his Poptones Label. The plan is to issue the band’s incendiary Turbo! disc worldwide by this fall and then work towards another long player once that one plays itself out. Luckily, the album is already available in Canada through the Let’s Just Have Some Fun label... The glamour pusses of Crash Kelly have been getting some freakin’ fantastic feedback thus far from Electric Satisfaction, their latest full-length. A heady mix of cock rock and scuzzy Sunset Strip crap, the dudes recently opened up a

PH OTO: DE REK

top the presses and upchuck the codeine - the Leather Uppers are back. The snotty two-piece hasn’t released a fulllength since 1994 but the frustrating frustration is finally over thanks to Bright Lights, a new long player out on Goner Records. More gritty, more gunky, the album is a bang-on approximation of the Uppers’ stage show. Look for some localized support gigs this summer… Unfortunately, it’s also a sad day in Diaperville as local art punks Lenin I Shumov have called it a day. This nifty Toronto-by-Belarus outfit was known for the Russian influence in both its music and its members. Their adventurous stage show often would feature multiple drummers, weirdo lyrical yelps and some pretty intense defiling of certain classical instruments. No word yet on future plans for frontman Eugene Slonimerov and his comrades… They might be tossers but nevertheless, it’s time to dislodge yer cob and welcome the Salads back on to your plate. The bratty frat faves have just released

By Cameron Gordon series of Canadian tour stops for leathery shock rocker Alice Cooper. Unconfirmed reports suggest ol’ Al let the guys touch his snake. More details soon… Local legends the Rheostatics were all set for their first ever visit to mainland China starting in mid-Spring, looking to spread the good word of Canadian shield rock in Shanghai and seven other cities. Unfortunately, funding fell through pre-tour and the whole endeavour was scaled back to solo tour by the band’s frontman Dave Bidini. Totally bogus if you ask me!… And great news for you rockers looking to reset your banana seat, as Cinecycle has begun hosting live music once again. This back alley bike shop was one of Toronto’s most beloved alternative venues for most of the 2000s but up until recently, the shop had enjoyed a long dry spell concert-wise. No longer. The venue recently hosted separate nights, headlined by No Dynamics and K Records noodlers Old Time Relijun. More gigs to follow. Maybe. n

m b b T c w s e m k a a a o

w s o D G w h r B h i a b t t o h k p s m w m o t F s

u i fi s r m t o b B b h

rs Sort of Reckless Hope e k c u r T y B e Some Driv

he South. Two simple words that tration are the very people who are the most conjure up a diverse array of images supportive of this administration,” Hood says ranging from confederate-flag-wavin’ emphatically. “So many people in the south moonshine-brewin’ hillbillies to fine southern - they are religious - and that’s what they use belles with glorious accents, from plastic-faced to control these people and make them vote bible-thumpin’ hypocrites to lewd Mardi Gras for them. They make them think that they are T&A. It’s been home to war-mongering politidoin’ the will of God or something if they cians and some of most amazing musicians the vote for some asshole. I hate to sound like world has seen. Whether it’s racial conflict or a high-minded liberal that knows more than southern hospitality, the south is a place of everyone else. I don’t feel that way. I don’t extremes.You’ll find folks down there who are necessarily have the answers. I just know when meaner than a shithouse rat and then folks so the answer is really wrong because I can see kind they’d make your average Canadian seem it in front of me. Short of someone inventing about as personable as Stephen Harper’s wife, a time machine now, I don’t even know what at that time of the month, on a cold day, with can be done. It’s so fucked up it terrifies me an ass full of ice-cubes. Patterson Hood is one as someone with a small child that I know is of the kind folks. going to inherit this mess. [But], y’know a lot “It seems like so much of the best and of the people down here are startin’ to wake worst of things happen at the same place and up. Of course, it took losin’ one of our cities same time down here,” says Hood, one third [New Orleans] to do it.” of the song-writing, axe-slinging front-line of It’s this kind of optimistic pessimism that Drive-By Truckers, from his home in Athens, informs the Truckers’ latest album A Blessing Georgia. “At the same time that they and a Curse, released were turning fire on New West Rehoses against civil cords this past April. rights marchers in Despite it being Birmingham, two widely received as hours up the road a dark record with Y’know a lot of in Muscle Shoals bleak themes, Hood all these integrated likens the album to the people down bands were making “comin’ out of a ree ar h ut So here in the these great records ally long hard dark f O . up e together, but none night and seein’ ak w to startin’ of the people in my the sunshine at the home town even end. And while the course, it took losin’ knew it was hapsun’s rising, all the it do New Orleans to pening. My dad [a sudden you realsession bass player] ize; Wow! Y’know, made his living – a it’s another day white guy, during the and life goes on, most heated time and maybe I can of racial strife in make this work after all!” the south - backing up Wilson Pickett, Aretha Unlike previous releases, A Blessing and Franklin, Bobby Womack and folks like that. It’s a Curse isn’t written specifically from the such a contradictory region.” southern demographic. There was neither a Hood and his Drive-By Truckers have a concept that guided the creation of the songs unique ability to channel these contradictions - as with Southern Rock Opera - nor was the into their songs in a manner that neither glori- album created from backlogged songs that had fies nor really condemns. As a band, they are accumulated over the years, like Decoration simultaneously modest and bold, refined and Day or The Dirty South. In an effort to create ragged. It’s fascinating to see such a liberala more spontaneous record, the band hit the minded band, so obviously proud of where studio immediately after completing a tour and they come from, garnering success in the heart wrote much of the material on the spot with a of the south despite it being a place populated decidedly inward-looking approach. It resulted by people who put the likes of George Dubya in their most personal and emotionally expanBush in power. “It’s kind of maddening to me sive record yet. because some of the people that are being So expansive, in fact, that if the album were hurt the most by the policies of this adminisdiagnosed with a mental illness it would surely

be manic-depression. “Aftermath USA” alludes forebodingly to the repercussions of an epic bender: “Crystal Meth in the bathtub / Blood splattered in my sink / Laying around in the aftermath / It’s all worse than you think.” Contrasting that is “Daylight” with hopes of learning from past mistakes: “While we still have the daylight, I might look these lessons in the eye / While we still have the daylight, I might become some brand new kinda guy.” The tragedy of a father who feels punished at the loss of his baby daughter is described in “Little Bonnie” and there’s comedy in the jaded brilliance of “Gravity’s Gone” as Mike Cooley sings: “Between the champagne, hand jobs and kissing ass by everyone involved / Cocaine rich comes quick and that why the small dicks have it all.” A Blessing and a Curse is moody, and cathartic, and perfectly reckless. “It has a lot in common with the blues,” agrees Hood. “Musically we don’t follow that format - I don’t think we have a single song that you would call a blues song in the ‘musical language’ - but the tradition of people singin’ about the things that drag them down and doing it in a celebratory manner.Y’ know, goin’ out on Saturday night to the juke joint and singin’ about that woman doin’ you wrong… or whatever it is that made your week so bad, and gettin’ drunk and singin’ it out and havin’ all these other people share it and do it too! It’s uplifting and was a big part of our culture. I think, in a lot of ways, we’ve gotten away from that in the music we listen to. The corporations and people who control radio play-lists - they don’t want to play anything that’s gonna bring anybody down. But they don’t realize that it doesn’t bring you down. It’s not supposed to bring you down. It’s how you get it outta you so that you can go back Monday

CONTENTS By Devon Cody

and face that shitty job or that mean woman… or whatever the hell it is that’s your poison.” Of all the tracks on this record, the best example of this is “A World of Hurt” - a soulbaring song that will leave a knot of emotion in your throat and could bring a tear to the eye of the hardest, red-bloodedest, red-meateatingest, hairy-chest-beatingest men out there. It is also the song that Hood admits felt best coming out during the writing process. “It wasn’t the last song I wrote for the record but as soon as I wrote it I knew we had the last song on the record.” Hood shares, “The moment I wrote down ‘It’s great to be alive’, I knew I had written the last line on the record. And as much heated debate as there was about sequencing this record. That song was never questioned.” And why would you? “A World of Hurt” exemplifies precisely the paradoxical nature of the album - an opus in appreciation for the strangely harmonious mind-boggling mess of life. It ain’t always fun, but it could always be worse. It’s a blessing and a curse, and the folks in Drive-By Truckers wouldn’t trade it for nuthin’. n

The Nerve June 2006 Page 13

d t s m a C m k a

f s u R a t k c a t f

c w o i s b f m s d h

G J W E E d G a d W w d E T p T q s f ( t â&#x20AC;&#x153; l P Y M A t C N E m o o N E g N The Nerve June 2006 Page 14

Mud River Ragged, But Right D

riving on a sublime sunny afternoon with the tunes a-blarin’ out o’ my shitbox VW, my sweetheart turns to me during a particularly inspired tune (#5) from the mucho excellento new Mud River album, says “Fuck, this sounds like somewhere from my childhood,” and proceeds to be blown away when she finds out that the tune is about Cumberland, BC. The music alone – never mind the lyrics - presents a vivid image of the kind of small-town where all sorts of degenerate teenage shit goes down! Mud River really seems to understand the fucking insanity of growing up Deliverance style. Talking to my better half, I gain a vivid understanding of the tune and of the life. Mud River, BC sounds like a place to go and be alone – very, very fucking alone. For the reader to understand this a bit better so we can really kick the interview into gear, the tune is actually called “Cumberland” and its tasty banjo refrain and foot-stompin’ pace will surely bring out the illegal still in everyone! Pick yer poison you fucking degenerates! The band is comprised of a bunch of top choice fellas (“We don’t get mad at anything, we are all way too nice.You can ask anyone!”), on a mission to drink, fuck, fight, and spread its everlasting seed of love. A Mud River show shines with an intensity not often found in bands of this genre. And while fun is the main focus, the songwriting is where the band wins my highest kudos. These guys are fucking awesome! Catching up with the band, I find five desperados who don’t need to wear a cowboy hat to be cool. Kris Welch is described as the “Mack 10”

of the band, and he propels the boys with his tasteful pedal steel and twisted, ragged, Danny Whitten-inspired solos. Lead vocalist Nick Lawton is described as the “chainsaw”, and in his spastic delivery serves as a visionary storyteller. Drummer Paul Bircham is recognized as Mud River’s “Gatlin gun”, and propels the songs like a tumbling hunka hunka burnin’ sagebrush, relentlessly taking the song and pummeling it into the void. New bassist Jamie Myers is the sneaky little “pointy stick”, lookin’ for an eye to gouge. Guitjo player/guitarist Ryan Olszewski is the band’s “broadsword”, cutting a swathe through the songs with whatever tasteful accompaniment is needed. Double duty in death metal titans Assimilator - though recently ended - accents Olszewski’s versatility. For a bunch of dudes whose tempestuous teen years consisted of “burning fires with stacks of pallets from liquor stores using diesel fuel,” and who can’t even name the three brothers on Bonanza (“Bonanza’s wayyyyy out of our demographic… all we know is Young Guns – and Young Guns 2”), they nevertheless seem to get it. Maybe that’s because Mud River is the self-proclaimed future of country, “Yep, that’d be us!” Olszewski confirms. “After us there will only be country-fuelled classic rock!” Like so many of us, they grew up as Misfits-inspired punks (“’Where Eagles Dare’ took the cake with a couple of the guys,” Lawton claims), but can recognize – between Darby Crash and Merle Haggard – which is the bigger punk. “Merle Haggard for sure,” asserts Welch. “The man served time. I wouldn’t call Merle Haggard a

the smokes N

CONTENTS By Boy “frikkin’’ Howdy

punk to his face!” In the end, Mud River’s unique approach to country is really the sum of its parts: smalltown life; misspent teenage years; drug

experiments gone wrong; drug experiments gone right; love; loss; drinking; friendship and loyalty all play a part in the sound. Influences like the Misfits and death metal are not visually or musically prevalent, but surface in Mud River’s attitude. Influences like Merle Haggard and Gram Parsons, meanwhile, have led the fellas to discover such classic country/bluegrass icons as Roscoe Holcomb and Earl Scruggs.

“Roscoe Holcomb takes the cake on banjo playing,” Olszewski announces. “Don’t get me wrong - there’s nothing wrong with Earl Scruggs, but Roscoe is just so dark.” Like the little dude playing banjo in De-

liverance, Mud River could be seen to school the city-slicker guitar-armies with fine songwriting, poignant and realistic storytelling, and electric live shows. And the new record is a complete motherfucker! Buy it NOW or you deserve to squeal like a pig! Ragged, but fucking right! n

Make Love Not Manowar

erve: The eternal question – do Stumbler’s Inn) to moonlight as a the Smokes smoke? Smoke? Kalvin (acoustic guitar/vocals) - No. Graham: [Wally] phoned me up one day and Graham (bass/vocals) - No. said, “Graham, will you be in the Smokes?” And Jimi (drums) - Yes. I said I don’t know, I’ve got a lot of commitWally (lead vocals) - Hoping to start again. ments, and he said, “I am begging you to join Evret (electric guitar/vocals) - Is in denial… the Smokes.You are the coolest.” If you put it Evret: Argh - I’m saying I don’t smoke, coz I that way, I’ll join. don’t buy cigarettes! Wally: First of all, did I really say, “I beg you?” Graham: I haven’t bought weed since I was 16, Graham:Yes, you did. and I’ve smoked fucking a million ounces of Wally: I did not say, “You’re the fucking cooldope. That doesn’t mean I’m not a pot smoker. est.” Wally: If I fucking smoke crack five times a Graham:Yeah, you did. week, I’m a crack smoker. That’s it. If I blow a Nerve: What happened to your original dude in a back alley five times a week, I’m gay. (upright) bass player? Evret: I’m a closet smoker. Wally: He sucked. I didn’t like him from day Tension reaches a fever one. He would play the stand-up bass, and pitch… it would sound like The Smokes are a someone punching me quintet of folky, boozy in the ear. sing-song rock’n’rollists, Jimmy: The bow was If I blow a four vocalists strong pretty rough. (hear the harmonies on Kalvin: He didn’t seem dude in a back the soon-to-be-classic to want to be a part of alley five times a “Microphone”), “a nice the band. He was just little mix of Manowar, putting in time. w ee k, I’m gay. Pink Floyd and Neil Wally: He wasn’t down Young,” as their with like, hanging out Myspace site claims. and drinking beers, havA surefire candidate, ing a good time, fuckin’ then, for The Nerve’s around, cracking jokes Cosmic Country coming out issue. and bugging each other. And that’s what the Nerve: Manowar? Smokes are… we’re all pretty good friends, we Evret: I… I have an infatuation with cheesy ‘80s like to party, and sometimes we’ll write a really metal. I love the high squeals, the long drawngood song. out guitar solos, the whammy bar over and Nerve: What ever happened to crowd over again… favourite, “The Banshee”? Nerve: I don’t hear that… Graham: It sucked. Evret: No, I don’t really try to. I’m not that Wally: Officially, Graham axed “The Banshee”. good of a guitar player. Graham: I didn’t want to record “The BanNerve: Who coerced Graham (the shee”. I thought it was a good live song, [but]

“The Banshee” is not a serious song, and if you want to make a serious album, you can’t put that song on the album. It’s a goofy song that nobody gets. Nerve: A silly two-chord wonder with an epic Dio-esque flavour, Wally assumed “The Banshee” was about spirits in an Irish vale. But no… it’s about Kalvin shrieking when an ex-lover tried to… ‘invade’ him… down there. Wally: When we first started, we had a few songs that were kind of jokey, kind of tonguein-cheek, and kind of… fruity. And then I started to get a bit weird in my head, and I was like, fuck, I don’t want to be like the Barenaked Ladies... I don’t want to write songs about skipping down the street. Lyrically, every song the Smokes play, I wrote. And these songs matter to me, and I wrote some pretty stupid fucking songs. Jimi: What was that one about getting drunk and beating women? Wally: “Truck Driver”? I don’t know. I can’t be held responsible for everything I write. Anyway, I don’t want to be in a joke band. And I’m not, and that’s good. Nerve: Meanwhile, Wally and Jimmy have started up a good Samaritan reality TV show (The Help, www.thehelpshow. com), Evret sports granny panties for the cover of Ripe Magazine…

By Dave Bertrand

Wally: Also we’re releasing a remix album by The Army vs. The Navy [W&J’s electronic duo - Bertrand] called Ghostfinger. Kalvin: Dedicated to Evret. Wally: ‘Cause Evret only has nine fingers. Jimi: Another band is the Christmas Feasts, which get together once a year. We do such songs as “Hark the Herald” and “Christmas Time Around the World” which is an original. Sort of a “We Are the World”-type thing. It deals with racism. The Smokes’ debut, Fields and Factory Floors, on Jimi’s Sealbait Records, has its release party June 2nd at the Media Club, with Grass City and The Stumbler’s Inn. June 27th at the Lamplighter is the Wally-organized fundraiser for The Petri Dish, a Main St. boutique, featuring (bare minimum…) the Smokes, Mud River, The Nervous Breakdowns, Hung Jury, The Stumbler’s, and more party than you can eat. n The Nerve June 2006 Page 15

CONTENTS

me o h ck a b l l a it g in g in r b By Curtis Woloschuk Calexico Experiments with Not Experimenting

kits stowed away at strategic points around the globe. He’s currently at work on a 1960s Ludwig set that’ll soon be bound for Chicago. Sold to a friend years earlier, Convertino has recently reclaimed the drums as his own. Similarly, Garden Ruin sees Calexico reclaiming song stylings it strayed from some time ago. The band’s discography reveals an array of influences including nocturnal jazz, festive mariachi, Morricone atmospherics and twangy surf. Ironically, Garden Ruin’s collection of concise pop songs is seen by some as an experiment for the band. Not so for Convertino. “Our first record, Spoke, had really solid songwriting on it,” he reflects. “I think we kind of got away from that with The Black Light and Hot Rail.” Both those albums came on the heels of Burns and Convertino’s tour of duty with Friends of Dean Martinez. “We were really exploring that movie soundtrack/ambient/instrumental realm,” he recalls. At the same time, Burns yearned to write and sing pop songs. Convertino was less enthusiastic. “It was really hard after playing in Giant Sand and laying down that basic rock beat for me to do that again,” he states. “I rebelled against it.” Consequently, Calexico continued employing Latin rhythms and unconventional time signatures until a fateful track on Feast of Wire. “That song “Not Even Stevie Nicks” was the beginning of: ‘Hey! This feels good to play a solid beat like Mick Fleetwood or Clem Burke,’” admits Convertino. Thus, the seeds for Garden Ruin had been planted. Two more catalytic events would soon follow. “We’d done a tour opening for Wilco,” he shares. “That was a big influence on us for this new record. I started to feel like Joey Burns was taking that Jeff Tweedy role with the band supporting him.” The collaboration with Sam Beam of Iron & Wine proved equally momentous. “I think Joey being able to see how Sam works on vocals in the studio and Sam encouraging Joey to sing with him was really inspirational. It encouraged him to try different PHOTO: DEN NIS KLE INM AN

t seems nearly unfathomable that someone might catch either Joey Burns or John Convertino of Calexico with a moment to spare. Since their last album – 2003’s Feast of Wire – the southwestern songwriting partners have chalked up a few hundred tour dates, released the Convict Pool EP, lent their musical talents to projects by Neko Case and Nancy Sinatra, and teamed with Iron & Wine on last year’s achingly sublime In the Reins. Not content to rest on any laurels, the pair then reconvened the touring members of Calexico and set about recording Garden Ruin – the band’s fifth official album. With all that considered, my expectations are modest when I place a call to Convertino at his Arizona home. I remind myself to stay on topic and not waste a second of what’s likely to be a limited window of time. A conversational Convertino answers and advises, “I’m just working on a drum set.” Over the next few minutes, he delves into his passion for

vintage gear. This unassuming introduction to the affable percussionist sets the stage for the relaxed and lengthy discussion that follows. “I like being able to play an instrument that’s been around for 40 years,” he continues. “It’s a whole different feeling.” Given his exacting predilections, he has several unique

The Nerve June 2006 Page 16

things with his voice.” instrumental things. It was really hard for us to In anticipation of returning to the studio, whittle it down and make it more listenable. Burns and Convertino gathered their backing With Garden Ruin, JD kept us focussed on the players – Jacob Valenzuela (trumpet), Martin songs.” Wenk (trumpet/accordion/vibes),Volker ZanThat devotion to Burns’ songwriting sees der (bass) and Paul Niehaus (pedal steel) – at Calexico deliver its first album free of instruthe Café Roka in Bisbee, Arizona for a week mentals. While there’s still the odd deviation of rehearsals. The retreat provided inspiration – Burns croons en Français for the smoky for two Garden Ruin songs – “Bisbee Blue” and “Nom de Plume” – this is undoubtedly the “Roka” – and marked another departure from band’s pop record. “Cruel,” “Bisbee Blue” and the standard Calexico process. “Panic Open String” all take breezy acoustic Traditionally, the band’s two founding memstrummers and augment them with lilting vocal bers would record the basis for each song harmonies and deceptively complex arrangethemselves before bringing in other musicians ments. “Letter to Bowie Knife” is a tequila-futo provide overdubs. With a elled barnyard dustup few exceptions, – the band’s skewed Garden Ruin finds approximation of an all six members alt-country stomper. of Calexico presAn undercurrent of r On the othe ent and accountpolitical dissatisfaced for. That such tion runs through records, Joey and a change should the album and rises occur on this to the fore on feral I would often overdo particular album is closer “All Systems rd ha ly al it. It was re a source of obviRed.” Amidst a meit le tt hi ous amusement lee of jagged guitars, w to for us for Convertino. Burns wails, “When “The band was the dread is flowing down and make it more involved with down my veins/I e. more listenabl this recording than want to tear it all ever before but the down and build it focus was more on up again.” Joey’s vocals, words While the new and songwriting,” songs rarely surpass four minutes on disc, he laughs. “There’s a little bit of a dichotomy Convertino reports that they’re “stretching there.” out and changing” when played live. “I think Also on hand was producer JD Foster. that’s usually an indicator of how the next Previously, Burns and Convertino had selfrecord is going to go,” he suggests. It seems produced every Calexico record. Garden Ruin Calexico’s bid at playing it straight could be finally afforded them a budget to bring in “outshort-lived. If left to his druthers, Convertino side ears.” They first met Foster when backing knows precisely what he’d like to hear on the Richard Buckner on his 1997 Devotion + Doubt band’s next album. “I’ve had this dream for album. “We knew he could work with us,” says quite a long time of getting the mariachis back Convertino. “He could cool things down when involved with our music,” he says. Calexico has they started getting too heated in the studio. enlisted the aid of Tucson’s Mariachi Luz de He could encourage us to do another take Luna in the past and both parties remain open when we felt we were done with it.” to revisiting and redefining that partnership. “We didn’t really have that kind of influ“It’s a way of touching in on a tradition that’s ence on the other records,” he continues. always been part of the band but making it “Consequently, Joey and I would often overdo different. I think that’s something we did quite it. Initially, Feast of Wire was over 70 minutes successfully with Garden Ruin.” Calexico plays at long. We had all these snippets and weird little the Commodore in Vancouver June 20th n

hiloh - hmmm, you may think you are dealing with a purdy lil’ wallflower, but she’ll land a roundhouse right to your head before you get a chance to get your bearings.You’ll wake up, alone, miserable, and on the floor and your money will be gone, your liquor all drunk up and don’t even think about finding your cigarettes ‘n’ weed, she’s a crafty kitten and she writes damn fine songs too! Fuelled by the kind of broken-hearted wisdom that really belies her tender age, Shiloh Lindsey is able to connect with the forlorn and the hell-strewn with tunes like “For My Smoke”, with it’s ragged and dreamy arrangement that takes you away to a time when life seemed to be at a true crossroads. “I only started writing in the country styling about four years ago. Before that I was doing singer/songwriter stuff. Country is something that I grew up listening to so I guess I’m just going back to what I know best. Heartache and drinkin’, losing parts of ears in bar room brawls, etc.” When Shiloh sings, °You know you’re alone

Tequila and a Concrete Floor

Shiloh is a .44 magnum. She has well finished p arts, is hard to break, and will last a lifetime when properly maintained. / When you’re walking home / Drunk - outta your mind” - you really feel like it’s all fucking over and it just won’t ever be the same again. Shilo’s live show is a shitstomp either way - solo, or, with her crack band featuring Mark Campbell on bass (“a Celtic Sword because he’s a red bearded Scotsman who’s sharp as Hell”), Frank the Tank Nichols (“a battering ram because he’s a hard hitting drummer”), and the extraordinary pedal-lap steel picker

grass citY

By Dave Bertrand

ancouver’s new-fangled lust for tearyAnd that three-pronged, southern-fried, eyed southern twang is completely out Wall of Riff? Says Pat, “It’s just a wider range, of control. Take the epic, heart-stirrin’, man.You can do so much more, even with the incendiary Grass City; five stalwarts of the simplest parts. I can’t see us ever playing with Vancity doom/grind/metal/punk scene who, two guitars.” Grass City is currently hunting according to guitarist Pat Ferguson (Cambofor a keyboard player/vocalist, and if you hear dia), “Just decided to do something that’s not its amazing demo, The Dirtwood Homefront EP, metal.” The result? “Doom/blues/rock. The Allyou’ll understand why. Beautiful triple-layered man Brothers meets Sabbath.” offers vocalist/ vocals, featuring Kurt’s gruff (and Jesse’s mildly guitarist Kurt Dernisky (Goatsblood), though less gruff) Zakk Wylde-ish drawls, flagged by a High on Fire meets Lynyrd female harmony. Sadly ‘Jen’, Skynyrd might be more the gal in question, couldn’t precise. Three guitars, loose totally commit. Neither yet jarring, and drummer could organist Don Mann Even if they Jesse Birch (Zuckuss, TARD, (Lownote). Too busy raking Cum Soc, Lazer) excessively, in cash as a composer for don’t like the violently, and inappropriThe ‘L’Word. band, they’ll like ately hammering his kit, And from the subject which surprisingly sounds of hot girl-on-girl action, the fuckin’ jerky tremendous. Now part of a we move to Grass City’s porch-rockin’ ‘scene’ they notorious jam space – four barely knew existed until walls and a ceiling, plastered recently, Kurt notes the with porn porn PORN, obvious. “It’s way better to and… ‘80s glam pin-ups? be the heaviest band in a lighter genre than the Jesse explains, “Me and the guitar player from lightest band in a heavier genre,” he says. Zuckuss built the room. It’s a joke.You wanna

Mike Flunkett aka Doc Steel (“a Gatling Gun because he combines reliability, a high firing rate, and ease of loading into a single device”) Shiloh describes herself, meanwhile, as “ a .44 magnum. She has well finished parts, is hard to break, and will last a lifetime when properly maintained.” She can hold her own in a van with Mud River or Stumbler’s Inn and outdrink the Cadaver Dogs. I tell ya – don’t fuck with this gal or she’ll run a spike through your throat. At the Mud River record release in May, we were livin’ the frantic pace described in Shilo’s “Whiskey & Rum” first-hand: bumrushing the stage, singin’ Stones and Crazy Horse covers, and drinkin’ Wisers straight outta the bottle. To say she’s tough, check out the pic: the morning after the night before. Eight stitches and a few new song ideas later, Shiloh got back on the horse and continued her journey. The songs belie her age and the voice: fuck, THE VOICE, it just BOOMS! Her songs are well crafted and the production on her wonderful record, For My Smoke (by John Ellis) is tasteful and expansive. The pairing is an inspired one for Shiloh’s country ER PHOTO: DAL E DE RUIT

Shiloh Lindsey

CONTENTS

be jamming, look over your head and see something you haven’t seen, and laugh your fuckin’ ass off. Or see something that’s like, oh god, I never want to look in that corner ever again.” Upstairs is the Wall of Shame, with dozens of ‘80s LPs tacked to the wall. Barbara Streisand, Eddie Murphy. Lars Ulrich. And the prize “collector’s item,” Charlotte Diamond’s

By Boy Howdy

torch songs, particularly in the rousing “Hell In The First” - Jew’s harp and all. Here, Shiloh really wears a coat of many pained and complex colours, and newcomers are advised to take heed - she may be a slight lass, but you’d better not fuck with her! n

10 Carrot Diamond, featuring Charlotte and ten innocent children, mouths and hands full of carrots. These carrots have been replaced by stiff dinks. “My best piece of work,” boasts Jesse. “That’s what collage art is all about. What separates the men from the boys.” But it’s not all tits and whisky in Grass City - bassist Jay Gavin (Huskavarna) was briefly a member of Texas hammerheads Speedealer, until he crossed the border. Says Gavin, “I had a David Icke book in my car, something about 9-11. And on the way back down they fucked me around because of the book, and wouldn’t let me in. They said I was playing in a band, making money, and I was an enemy to America taking work from Americans. They called me ‘The Silent Enemy’. I was down [in Texas] for months – my van is still in Texas – I spent about $10,000 on my Visa to live, and made about $1600 American. And they called me an enemy for stealing work from Americans. Like, how does that even work?” Luckily, Grass City has an ingenious marketing scheme – beef jerky (Kurt’s specialty is black pepper red wine), up for sale at all Grass City shows. It reportedly sells like coke-injected hotcakes. “Even if they don’t like the band,” says guitarist Bryan Wolosnick, “They’ll like the fuckin’ jerky.” n

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JULY 20

BURTON CUMMINGS THEATRE – WINNIPEG GENERAL ADMISSION ORCHESTRA/RESERVED BALCONY – ALL AGES

JULY 21

PRAIRIELAND PARK – SASKATOON GENERAL ADMISSION – ALL AGES

JULY 22

MACEWAN HALL – CALGARY GENERAL ADMISSION – ALL AGES

JULY 4 – ALL AGES SHOW

TICKETS ALSO AT MEGATUNES

JULY 23

CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

SHAW CONFERENCE CENTRE – EDMONTON

DOORS 6:30PM, SHOW 7:30PM TICKETS ALSO AT ZULU AND SCRAPE

GENERAL ADMISSION – ALL AGES

JULY 25

CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE – VANCOUVER GENERAL ADMISSION – ALL AGES

CITY AND COLOUR NOT APPEARING IN VANCOUVER

JULY 4 WINNIPEG WINNIPEG CONVENTION CENTRE JULY 6 EDMONTON REXALL PLACE JULY 7 CALGARY EPCOR CENTRE’S JACK SINGER CONCERT HALL JULY 9 VANCOUVER EDGEWATER STAGE AT PLAZA OF NATIONS

JUNE 15

THE FUTUREHEADS COMMODORE BALLROOM

The Nerve June 2006 Page 18

JULY 1

SHE WANTS REVENGE CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

JULY 9

RAY DAVIES

COMMODORE BALLROOM

JULY 10

FOO FIGHTERS ORPHEUM THEATRE

FRIDAY JULY 14 COMMODORE BALLROOM DOORS DOORS 8:00PM, 8:00PM, SHOW SHOW 9:00PM 9:00PM TICKETS TICKETS ALSO ALSO AT AT ZULU ZULU AND AND SCRATCH SCRATCH

JULY 26

THE RACONTEURS MALKIN BOWL, STANLEY PARK

JULY 30

BUZZCOCKS THE RED ROOM

WINNIPEG

JULY 9 GENERAL ADMISSION FLOOR, RESERVED STANDS DOORS 5PM, SHOW 5:30PM

EDMONTON JULY UT! 11 OLD O

S SHAW CONFERENCE CENTRE

PNE FORUM AUGUST 10 GENERAL ADMISSION TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE RECORDS

GENERAL ADMISSION — DOORS 5PM, SHOW 5:30PM

VANCOUVER

JULY 13

GENERAL MOTORS PLACE METAL BOWL

GENERAL ADMISSION FLOOR, RESERVED STANDS — DOORS 5PM, SHOW 5:30PM TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

The Nerve June 2006 Page 19

CONTENTS

The Truckers, the Kickers, and the Cowboy Angels By Phil Oats, Carl Spackler, Boy Howdy, Robert Dayton, and Adrian Mack

An Eccentric Guide to Cosmic Country

or a time, country music was the official sound of the establishment; rigid, uncontroversial, and deeply conservative. in the ‘50s and ‘60s it veered from the template of madness, genius, and self-destruction embodied by Hank Williams, and despite the efforts of a few crazy bastards – Cash, George Jones, Merle Haggard – the industry rejected anything or anyone likely to raise the listener’s pulse. By the late ‘60s, a few young visionaries had come to realize there were no barriers between country and anything else; it came from the same cultural stew as the blues, R’n’B, soul, gospel, and rock ‘n’ roll. There was no black and white, and no young or old... there was just music, either played from the soul, or not. Gram Parsons is seen as the prime number behind what he came to call Cosmic American Music, but there are lots of heroes. Broadly, these fine men and women brought groove, sex, and style back to something that had been choked by conformity. And while drugs were (and still are) the dirty secret behind-the-scenes of the Nashville-based country music industry, our gang of cosmic cowboys wore its narcosis on its sleeve. Literally in the case of Parsons, who had his Nudie suit – the holy vestments of country music – embroidered with marijuana leaves and pills… h Gram Parsons A trust fund kid with suicide, alcoholism, betrayal, and madness in his southern gothic family tree, Parsons arrived in L.A. in the ‘60s just in time to spark a small riot of roots madness in a scene lurching towards heavy rock overkill. While Iron Butterfly was miring one half of the city in sludge, Parsons was refining his vision of country soul by taking it back to the source, first with the Interna-

tional Submarine Band, then the Byrds, the Flying Burrito Brothers, and finally in two untouchable solo albums (featuring a then unknown Emmylou Harris). There’s far more to the story than that, of course. Parsons was a hopeless alcoholic and

The Nerve June 2006 Page 20

part-time junkie, who celebrated the completion of his masterpiece, Grievous Angel, by snuffing it in room eight of the remote Joshua Tree Inn, at the age of 26. Shortly thereafter, his friend and road manager Phil Kaufman stole Parsons body and – fulfilling the terms of a drunken but solemn agreement – torched the singer’s remains in the California desert. Check “A Song for You” from the first solo album, GP, for the perfect cosmic American moment, when you literally hear Parsons more-orless nodding off in the second verse, behind some of his most beautiful tequila soaked poetry. - AM h The Flying Burritos Brothers Lyin’ on the floor of a cheap motel with Nudie suit pants around yer ankles, yer veins full of tequila and smack, and some girl inserting ice cubes into yer rectum might sound like another Saturday night with Spackler, but it was unfortunately the way ol’ GP checked out. Which is a goddamn shame cuz most of us never got the live experience of Gram and Chris Hillman harmonizing on “Sin City” - probably the most perfect song ever written. Rising from the ashes of Sweethearts of the Rodeo Byrds,

(another freakin’ masterpiece), the Burrito Bros weren’t around long but they made music that will live forever. Loose and tight all at the same time, too cool fer words, their first record – The Gilded Palace of Sin - is a motherfuckin’ masterpiece. The music is L.A., the desert, and the cosmos; decadent and heavenly all at once. The only unfortunate thing on the Gilded Palace of Sin is Sneeky Pete’s Pterodactyl sweatsuit. Geez, you can see how miserable he is in that thing! Anyways, their much-maligned second LP has some great fuckin’ moments, including the definitive version of “Wild Horses”. Gram left the Burritos after that album, and the Burritos soldiered on. The next record with Rick Roberts is actually pretty good, but after that, whoa! Holy fuck did they begin sucking! Take those records out to the desert and throe ‘em on the funeral pyre. - CS h Byrds – Notorious Byrd Bros. (1968) 1968 was year zero for psychedelic country rock, man! All the greats were trippin out in the studio and out in the woods and passin’ the doobie (like

on the alb cover of Dillard & Clark’s first rekkid) and goin’ “hmmmmm… les’ plug the steel thru the wah-wah AND the distortion”. But it all starts right here. The Byrds were one of the greatest bands ever and this is their greatest album. Notorious opens with a blast of phased horns on a song about taking speed and closes with a interstellar space shanty and everywhere in-between and in and around and thru-out on this masterpiece is woven sunbeams and astro harmonies and singing dolphins and old cowboys and Vietnam draftees and backwards this and forwards that. Sheeit. Notorious Byrd Bros is thee great cozmic country experience. All the golden cozmicountry yummies. Ask anybody. (record geek heads-up: bonus tracks on modern reissue are awesome!) - PO h Dillard & Clark - The Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark (1968) The album starts with a long, graceful, whistling organ note, followed by deep and dramatic tom rolls, then Gene Clark’s tremulous and vulnerable voice. It’s a weird downer of a tune, “Out on the Side”, one of the strangest and most haunting album openers you’re ever likely to hear, and impossible to ignore – like the first track on the Band’s Big Pink, “Tears of Rage”. These aren’t songs – they’re life lessons. Being that it’s Gene Clark who’s giving you some philosophical direction here, you’d better listen. He was the first Byrd that flew, quitting the group because the success was too much and he was a freak. He hooked up with bluegrass picker Doug Dillard for an album that even precedes the Burritos for being a

blind man’s cosmic Americana 10-way fuckgasm. Not having this in your collection is as stupid and pointless as dying at the age of 46, which is what Clark did after releasing one blinding gem after another to zero interest. - AM h Clarence White Somewhere on the net I read this: “He had a fascinating way of defining a chord by playing an open bass string, often imitating a common banjo lick by sliding a lower note up to match the open string note. While that was ringing, he’d play a syncopated or contrapuntal lick in the higher registers. When the chord changed, he’d define it by playing another bass note.” That’s what they say… I say he was the first flatpickin’ honkytonker to drop acid and leterrip! He invented this guitar string bending thingy that produced the ultimate combination of sweet country soul pedal steel and psychedelic late ‘60s fuzzdrone freakout. In the middle of a funky bending picking solo he’d drop divebombs and flanged flabbergasters. Wanna check him out? Try this amazing

link of his discography http://users.skynet.be/ fa388247/discowhite2.htm and begin around where he appears on a Monkees album. Get digging! - PO h The Stones The Stones have always loved and played country music. They know soul when they hear it. Sure Gram Parsons introduced Keef to George “King of the Broken Hearts” Jones, but the Stones were covering Johnny Cash’s “Ballad of a Teenage Queen” way back when they were still zit faced teenage limeys. By 1967 they were in a full blown stoned country groove, dressed like gypsy pirates, and space cowboys. But Gram showed Keef the blue eyed soul in a way he’d never heard before, specifically on an old dentist chair, out in the middle of the California desert, ripped to the tits on everything, and lookin’

for U.F.O.’s. Gram helped Keef get deeper into the cosmos, and Keef showed Gram how to act like a Rock Star (fuck I hate that term these days…) Gram followed Keef all the way to France for the making of the best record ever, Exile on Main Street, (where supposedly you can hear Gram harmonizing on “Sweet Virginia”), that is ‘til Mick threw his wasted ass out of the party - not cuz he was so loaded - they all were - but cuz Mick can’t stand anyone coming between him and Keef. Nobody lives like this anymore, nobody makes music like this anymore… back then Keef could still climb coconut trees, no problem. - CS h Alexander ‘Skip’ Spence – Oar (1969) Peter Lewis, bandmate of Skip in Moby Grape (one of the best bands ever) once told me: “Oar was this kind of album of redemption where he saw that he had done the wrong thing, he had committed the primal sin. It was a bunch of songs which had to do with enlightenment and forgiveness.” Enlightenment is cozmic, forgiveness is country. Cozmic is the gamut of the human experience; love, faith, life, death, revenge, religion, spirituality, humour, redemption, it’s all in Oar. Country is side two’s “Broken Heart”, one of the greatest country songs I heard. Johnny Cash shoulda sung it. Oar is one of the purest, profoundest records anyone’s ever done. Just before Skippy passed away they did a tribute album to Oar called More Oar. Robert Plant, Tom Waits, Beck, Mark Lanegan, and Robyn Hitchcock sung on it. They know. - PO h Moby Grape – Moby Grape ‘69 They always done some country but this overlooked wonder of brawn, boogie, countryblues and basic balls is down home true and real, and real good country-souled honk. Cozmic? Well christonabike no band lived and died through the ringer of hard luck and madness and drugs and rip-offs and hype and height-ashbury like these boys. It wiped ‘em out. Down to a quartet with Skippy off at the funny farm, just lookit them there on the cover, starin’ out over the sea into the sunset. This was their last great blast. Moby Grape ‘69 kicks ass of a million Wilcos and Whiskeytowns. Real dudes. Gang vocals. No pansies. Includes the songs “It’s A Beautiful Day Today,” “Truckin’ Man”, “If You Can’t Learn From Your Mistakes,” “Ooh Mama Ooh,” “I Am Not Willing,” “Going Nowhere.” The titles tell it. - PO h

CONTENTS

The Holy Modal Rounders - The Moray Eels Eat The Holy Modal Rounders (1968) While not highly regarded amongst the Holy Modal Rounders themselves for its amphetamine driven limited studio time, its legendary legacy proves just the opposite among fans. I dare any of those so-called neo-freak folkies to record anything as far out as this: impossible (besides those long haired youngsters are too busy trying to switch back the words ‘rape’ for ‘free love’, yuck). If you’ve heard of the Fugs, if you’ve heard of the Godz, you should really hear the Rounders, who are simultaneously the most traditional and free reigned of the bunch. This album tries to win over radio DJs by having no spaces between the grooves of its rapid running time. Contains the ‘hit’ from the Easy Rider soundtrack, “The Bird Song.” Honky tonk piano that tickles the inner roof of your skull. Bouncing bass. The unmistakably deliriously upper register froggy vocals of Peter Stampfel alternating with Steve Weber’s dry heroin rasp (check his vocals on the rock ‘n’ roll beat styled’ number “Half A Mind”). Stampfel’s accapella rendition of Micheal Hurley’s sympathetic “Werewolf” song starts at the end of a hall then gets gradually closer. Percolating neon truck chugger (with fiddle break) “Mobile Line” turns into a far Eastern Chipmunk chant and then some. A country devotional to STP. And then some! Indispensable. See also: Indian War Whoop for Sam Shepherd’s drum pounding and their unhinged meandering backup vocal and feedback laden renditions of mostly early Americana. Ah Hell, get all their stuff - they’re still making albums! - RD h Grateful Dead No, really. Don’t tell the hippies but whether you like it or not, these duffers probably invented cozmic country. The Dead started as a country/folk/jugband what took loads of acid and got all electric and turned it up as loud and clear as money could buy. People took acid and heard them do John Phillips’ “Me And My Uncle,” Merle’s “Sing Me Back Home”, Marty Robbins and Johnny Cash songs… hell, the Dead were probably the most cozmic band on the planet and over the course of their 30 years they likely played more country songs than any rock band ever. So whattayagonna do. - PO h Moody Blues Ha! Gotcha! Think I’m shittin’ ya? Well, the Moodies are often tagged as cozmic rockers, even by them! And wouldn’t ya know it, somebody done lined up real bluegrass artists to do an album of Moody Blues songs played bluegrass-style. Seriously! It’s called Moody Bluegrass, of course. Alison Krauss is on it. The Moodies and bluegrass. If that ain’t cozmic country, WHAT FRIKKIN’ IS? - PO h Doug Sahm Aka Sir Douglas, aka Doug Saldana, raised in Texas, a child prodigy who played with Hank Williams at the age of 11 and toured with the Stones in his 20s. Doug’s music was a melting pot of so many musical styles: Mexican, blues, rock, soul, jazz, polka, country, psychedelia, garage, yet totally whole and perfectly delivered in blasts of pure righteousness. During the British Invasion, Doug’s manager had them pretend to be British, dress in Beatle boots, shaggy hair and photographed only in black and white so no one would notice the Mexicans in the band.Yet England could never make a sound so unique and hard chargin’. In the Sir Douglas Quintet, a sound was invented that inspired artists from ? and the Mysterians to Elvis Costello. Doug later ran outta Texas avoiding a pot charge and found himself in San Francisco in 1966, the Summer of Love. The drugs got better, the hair grew longer, the music got wilder, stranger, yet always filled with beautiful vibrations. Doug was a stoned, soul, paradise groover. He worked with everyone: Bob Dylan, Roky Erickson, Freddy Fender… Hell, Doug and the boys used to play their brand of Cosmic American music at Max’s Kansas City in the ‘70s at the height of New York punk. They loved him at Max’s, cuz those kids understood real soul. Can you imagine what would happen to the unfortunate bastard who tried that today at the Cobalt? Those gutter punks can’t deviate from the program! Punk? Kiss my Honky ass! In the words of Doug Sahm - one of my all time heroes - “Be real, baby, be real.” - CS

h The Everly Brothers - Roots Released in 1968, this LP finds Phil and Don taking a lysergic trip back to the beginning of their musical careers, starting with the Everly family singing on a tape made in 1952. They cover Randy Newman, Merle Haggard, and it’s all done in glorious, high lonesome country rock style, peaking with acid drenched wah-wah guitars on “T for Texas”. Shit, I

wonder if all that LSD Phil and Don took in the ‘60s explains Don’s daughter Erin sucking on Axl Rose’s flaming ginger muff while Axl kicked the living shit outta her? But thank god they did drop acid, otherwise there would be no “Sweet Child O’ Mine”. What a fucked up world. - CS h Crazy Horse Not so much Cosmic Cowboys - more like street punks who sang doo-wop on the corner in front of burning trashcans and then discovered long hair, heroin, and electric guitars pretty much before anyone else. Real badass dudes. Robert Christgau called “Downtown” - off their first and only killer record - a “West Coast Velvet Underground”. - CS h Neil Young Does anyone know that Neil Young was the original producer of Love’s Forever Changes? The band’s follow-up, Four Sail, sure has a wealth of Crazy Horse-like guitar wank. Anyway - you gotta love Neil. He really understands country music, and his songwriting often reflects a commensurately simple worldview. The opening track from his eponymous 1969 solo debut, “The Emperor of Wyoming”, is an instrumental that displays all of the country and western swashes underlying the best work of the Buffalo Springfield. In the ‘90s, alt.country bozos tied themselves in knots trying to muster the vicious C&W stomp of “Everybody Knows this is Nowhere”. Neil can do no fucking wrong. He even got the Manson thing dead-on in “Revolution Blues.” We are not worthy. Fuck you if you don’t agree. - BH h Dylan and Cash You’ve all seen Walk the Line. The version of “It Ain’t Me” kicks ass. Always has. Dylan made no bones about his admiration for the Man In Black and they showed their stripes on Dylan’s Nashville Skyline, with “Girl From the North Country”. There are a lot of killer bootlegs from a 1969 Nashville session that never saw an official release. These tracks are floating around cyberspace. Just type Cash and Dylan Bootleg into Soulseek or Limewire. - BH h Johnny Cash - Everybody Loves A Nut (1966) Rumour has it that Johnny Cash was so hopped up on amphetamines for this, his ‘comedy album’, that he doesn’t even remember recording it! He certainly does sound tooth grinding for a few of the tracks. This album, with its telling sleeve art by Mad Magazine’s Jack Davis, mostly contains goofy good time novelty numbers. The highlight is “A Cup Of Coffee”, a collaboration with Ramblin’ Jack Elliot that is just gone off the rafters! Reverb drenched yodeling, snorting, coughing, laughing, meowing, stumbling, and guffawing tale of a little white pill addled truck driver who tries not to wake up his friends’ wife Flo by yelling, “Hey Flo!” Similarly enjoyable is his pleading and harmonica squeaking

“Please Don’t Play Red River Valley.” Also, for similar qualities, check his self titled 1969 album for a live rendition of John D. Loudermilk’s “Bad News” that is just whooping, man! It sounds like he’s snorting lines right off of the stage. - RD h Lee Hazlewood - Cowboy in Sweden (1970) It was Hazlewood’s label LHI that minimized Gram Parson’s work on Sweetheart Of The Rodeo due to Parson’s International Submarine Band being under contract to them. Numerous Hazlewood albums and singles could qualify under the banner of “Cozmic Country”, tho certainly falling more to the eccentric session pop side of things. His two lushly crafted albums with Nancy Sinatra (Nancy and Lee, Nancy and Lee Again) are utterly indispensable and the first one includes the oft-misinterpreted and mysteriously alluring psychedelic mash up “Some Velvet Morning.” Rife with thinly veiled drug references, double entendres and come-ons - Frank did not approve. Much of Hazlewood’s work consists of his well-bottom deep voice wryly singing string laden mid tempo country pop. Sometimes breezy, sometimes maudlin, sometimes hazy, always Hazlewood. Cowboy in Sweden was reissued, along with some others, by the Smells Like label a few years ago, so they aren’t too hard to find. Cowboy is my fave of that lot. Much of his output requires a deep search and if he so much as finds out that you own a bootleg, he might just sue your ass! Just writing this puts me in grave danger. - RD h Buck Owens - Bridge Over Troubled Water Now Buck wasn’t exactly the most psychedelic of all the cowboys, but he was livin’ in the ‘60s baby, I’ll tell ya that much. The man didn’t get high, but he gets you high - so what ‘s the difference? Mack gave him some due last month, probably the best obit he got, but Buck left a legacy. One stop on the many great records he made is this LP from 1971. The reverb is dripping of this record like the jizz on the walls of the Fox Theatre. The mood on most of the songs make you want to listen to this while you read Slyvia Plath in the tub and slit yer writs. The mixture of great covers - Dylan’s “Love Minus Zero” (maybe the best version I’ve ever heard), Donovan’s “Catch the Wind” - and some killer originals like “Everything Reminds Me that You’re Gone” makes for a wonderfully numb glow of misery and melancholy. Wanna stick yer head in an oven, but do it with a knowing, world-weary grin? Start here, kids. - CS h Michael Nesmith and the Second National Band - Tantamount To Treason Volume One (1972) Anyone familiar with the songs this wordy wordsmith (“What rhymes with ‘trepidation’?”) wrote for the Monkees knows that he is an oft-over-looked pioneer in the fields of country-rock. All of his albums with the First National Band (not to mention the inbetween National Band’s sarcastically named album And the Hits Just Keep on Comin’) are solid examples

of the genre. This, the nudie suit wearing Nez’s only album with the Second National Band, is less accessible and less instantly loveable, but certainly the most ‘cozmic’ and intriguing of the lot. Perhaps the most fulfilling as well. Opening with the misleading “Mama Rocker”, a heavy rock speaker-burster, the rest of side one turns into languid moog-ified country ballads that flow and dissolve into each other like Grand Canyon Borealis, culminating with the soaring lyrical adages, “…Turn and dig your heels in the road/Don’t be bound or trapped by the old/Take from the past what you need/To give to the new life you lead….” Flipping the Dynaflex over, one notices that side two contains no songs written by Nesmith. “Highway 99 With Mélange” opens with snippets of the rest of the album in audio collage, then stays disorienting and confusing while becoming a honking highway adultery ditty written by the keyboardist. I once e-mailed Nesmith to ask him the chord structure to this song when my band July Fourth Toilet covered this album live (and we still threaten to one day record Tantamount To Treason Volume Two). He replied with, “I have no idea.” The song is a mess. What follows are prog-bordering renditions of old chestnuts like “Bonaparte’s Retreat” and “She Thinks I Still Care”, along with simply stunning covers of such longing filled numbers as “Wax Minute” and “Talking to the Wall.” The liner notes are a recipe for homebrew that, to fit the album, should be made with ergot. - RD h John Fogerty - The Blue Ridge Rangers (1973) When CCR split, John Fogerty went back to the music that inspired him, and anonymously released this perfect album of country, R’n’B, and gospel covers. The highlight is a wiggy version of the Charms’ 1955 hit, “Hearts of Stone”, which Fogerty galvanizes with a lot of the white man’s reverb. It also features

probably the second best version of “She Thinks I Still Care” after George Jones’, and a rock’n’roll take on Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya”. Fogerty is so talented – and so steeped in indigenous American music – that all his subversions make complete emotional sense. While Blue Ridge Rangers has been forgotten, CCR sure has shit hasn’t. But they never get their due. Check the amazing “Ramble Tamble” from your granddad’s copy of Cosmos Factory for CCR’s exotic attempts at blending electric roots with head music. Like Springsteen said, “CCR were never the hippest, just the best.” If that doesn’t do it for you, try pretending Stephen McBean said it instead. Or – I dunno - that crazy, naked chick from AIDS Wolf… Muffy. - AM h Peter Grudzien - The Unicorn To be ‘Cozmic Country’ means to already be marginalized by hippies and rednecks alike. But to be Gay Cozmic Country! Wowee! And this 1974 album offers the best of all three elements. Out - and out there! Cruising the honky tonks looking for a “White Trash Hillbilly Trick” to feed him “Kentucky Candy.” Seriously warbled cry in your beer ballads and love odes, jarring electronic interludes, midafternoon foggy mountain breakdowns sung with his

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CONTENTS pear-shaped voice. Also contains musically pastoral hymnal elements and religio-lyrical visions. Check this: “…And I taste the serpent’s tongue/And I freeze in all my fright/Could ya tell them for me now/That theirs is not my fight…” CD re-ish contains later drum machine-led yet equally wild and more openly gay and playful bonus cuts. - RD h Porter Wagoner - What Ain’t to Be, Just Might Happen (1972) The still active Porter Wagoner was a huge country star back in the day due to his canny use of television. Many note him as the man who discovered (and resentfully held back) Dolly Parton, but he was obviously far more than that. His prodigious output is filled with numerous well-written songs. Nashville slick. This album is an example of coming straight up from the country-side and moving into ‘psych’ without any long hair elements whatsoever. High blonde pomp, glitzy nudie suit, and stage make up. Not just psych but psychotic for the infamously known number “The Rubber Room.” Haunting female back

up ooooh’s, swirling violin, jarring echo poundings and excessive vocal delay for his alternating third into first person narrative lyrics that twist tightly like a noose fully describing the horrors of being trapped in the asylum. “Now they come to get me but I find I’m screaming pretty words trying to make them rhyme…” This song isn’t the only gem; we get numerous examples of mental anguish and over the top melodramatic sensitivity - the spiraling room spinning “Comes And Goes”, “If I Lose My Mind”, the terrif title track, the pro town loon “Waldo The Weirdo”, and more! - RD h Joe Hunter - Musical Saws (1970’s?) From Regina and recorded at Century 21 Studios in Winnipeg (where many Canadian vanity pressings originate). His country band, including his wife on organ, plays “…a variety of favourite hymns and popular songs of yesterday.” The musical saw - represented here in full force - may just be the most unearthly sounding instrument ever. See also: his previous album A Musical C-Saw. - RD h Waylon Jennings A Texas DJ in the ‘50s, one of Buddy Holly’s Crickets – he gave Buddy his seat on the plane, and took the bus. In the ‘60s, he was an ornery C&W journeyman, his world collided with Parsons’ at the Troubadour in L.A. and Jennings was impressed. Not by the music, but by the drugs. There’s a clip on Youtube of Jennings doing “Kentucky Woman” around that time. He’s at the end of his rope with the Nashville crowd, his hair is gettin’ a little long, and he looks pissed. In the ‘70s – a few years later – he’s managed to almost DESTROY the country music industry by producing music his way – with a heavy bottom end, and this inarticulate, in-and-out guitar style that actually sounded like somebody kinda not giving a fuck, but menacing too. It defined the badass fringe of country, and made bazillions. Waylon spent two bazillions on cocaine. He looked awesome. An untouchable Texas groover, unendingly cosmic in his own fuck-you way. If you think only a pussy would cover Stevie Nick’s

“Gold Dust Woman”, you haven’t heard this man do it. Waylon Live, from ’76, is basically the sound of cocaine, when his band of ugly old crackers was funkier than shit. There’s a tag at the end of the title track from Honky Tonk Heroes (1973) that sounds like incidental music from Sweet Sweetback’s Badasss Song. It was all over by the ‘80s. The industry rose up again, and now it’s full of sports bar morons who look like they buy their clothes at Disneyland. - AM h Jr Gone Wild The greatest Canadian album ever released? Easy. In 1986 a group of stylin’ scraggly punk rock kids from Edmonton, having recently discovered the Byrds’ Sweethearts of the Rodeo, head for Los Angeles with a record deal with the punk label B.Y.O. (on the recommendation of their good buddies and fellow Canadian legends S.N.F.U.). Mike McDonald a.k.a Mike Sinatra (forced to change his name by Frank’s lawyers), Dove Brown, Dave Lawson, and Ed “the Happy Troll” Dobek head south with the sole intent of making a record and then breaking up right after it’s laid down, cuz they can’t stand the sight of each other. The ensuing album, Less Art More Pop, veers hard into unknown territory; Punk, pop and country all collide in a glorious booze soaked crash. Everything coalesces into a masterpiece unmatched by any other Canadian band. Do you hear me Blue Rodeo? New Pornos? Ha! Get real. Those guys are weenbags! Jr. was the real deal; the only analogy I can think of is the Replacements, only Jr. Gone Wild drank more! Less Art… flows from the jangle pop opener “It Never Changes” to the country rock glory of “Slept All Afternoon”. Pure pop heaven exists inside the grooves of “Cosmos” and “Day of the First Snow”. The sense of fun, high times, heartache, and hangovers permeates the record and makes

me grin like an idiot no matter how many times I’ve heard it. It’s a contact high. They used to show the video for “Old Blue” on MuchMusic a long time ago. Probably the worst pick for a song in terms of marketing the band, yet perfect for Jr as the boys mugged it up drunk in some bar, shootin’ pool, hittin’ on girls. I wish they’d show it again. Hell, I know fer a fact Mike nailed Erica Ehm! That’s gotta still count fer somethin’! The biggest crime, however, is that this Rosetta Stone is outta print. No CD release, no re-issue. B.Y.O. sits on it and instead puts out more crappy 10th generation puke punk bullshit! Go find a copy now! It’s around. If you don’t love it, yer a fuckin’ moron with a tin ear and black hole where a heart should be. - CS

h Long Ryders L.A. roots rockers featuring Kentucky native Sid Griffin, who managed to stroke his Gram Parsons and Gene Clark python after leaving seminal punk band the Unclaimed. Featuring steel guitar; autoharp, and mandolin, the band cut a couple of very fine roots/country punk LPs. Notable releases include ‘83s 10-5-60; 84’s Native Sons; and ‘85s State of Our Union. The last two releases were on Island, who didn’t know what the fuck to make of the band. They dissolved, broke and fucked completely over in December 1987. Check the track “Final Wild Son” for as good an update of Parson’s “Ooh Las Vegas” as you’re ever likely to hear. - BH h Rank and File Brothers Chip and Tony Kinman decided to take an about-face after dissolving their acclaimed San Francisco punk band the Dils (“Class War”). Why not play fucking country? And with a dazzling roots-based band at that! Their debut LP, Sundown, featured Byrdsian pop and Merle Haggard finesse. Accompaniment from Alejandro Escovedo complimented the concise and well-written songs, which were highlighted by the Kinman’s disparate harmonizing - unlike the Everlys, or even the Byrds, the Kinmans managed to sing harmonious upper and lower register, giving the tunes a really unique feel. The Everlys themselves covered “Amanda Ruth” on their ‘comeback’ album EB84 in 1984. Too bad they went all fucking “rock” and shat on a good thing. - BH h Lone Justice Maria McKee is the little half-sister of Love’s Bryan McLean, and she could sing like a bitch too! So, she gets this band of fucking ringer musicians to highlight her strong set of pipes and wry songwriting - sound good? Linda Ronstadt gets them on Geffen and they

h Sun City Girls - Jacks Creek (1994) Upon release this album was reviled by the more avant hipster snob crowd. As time passes, its reputation surely grows to put it right up there with the finest of the Sun City Girls’ diverse canon. And that is saying something! Being an act that can already alienate the unready, what caused this record to alienate their more uptight fans? (many of whom reside here in Vancouver for some reason) Maybe it’s because it was their hillbilly album. Maybe it’s because the album opens during a still evening on a back porch with them talking about a mysteriously coloured smell that predates an Indian burial ground and moaning, “He wore red to keep the devil away” and distant howling and warnings that gets more and more spooked out, gradually turning into a disfigured slackjaw downhoe preying on urban fears over its’ 13+ minutes running time. Then follows a percussive piano based swamp chase led by a gnarled stick shaker. Turns over into improperly distilled moonshine chants. Side two contains lots of little musically inventive snapshots and curios. A good time jamboree on termite wood called “Useless Stillborn.” A Civil War call to arms for people way too rot-gut broken down to ever pass the draft. And oh so much more to offer from this trio who go above and beyond the call of duty of what could have been (but not in their hands) a one (or 30) joke premise. I take it that you are already musically adventurous - well, give this a try! Feels like they’re shrinking (expanding) your head and preserving it in a jug. - RD h Evan Dando Even if he ain’t off the crack, cut the guy some slack, wouldya! He’s always had that plaintive mournful country/folk yearning in his voice and he wrote great country songs thatter scattered around all his work. Did your fave modern country rocker get the Burri-

even tour with U2. The critical buzz surrounding their 1985 self-titled debut probably sunk them before they even started. Sure, it’s a good record, but as the All Music Guide deftly comments; “Lone Justice is an album that tries so hard to be great that it sometimes ends up tripping over its own ambitions.” OUCH! They broke up too. Nobody got rich and Maria McKee went solo. She was the hot young thang in Robbie Robertson’s “Somewhere Down the Crazy River” video (go Sammy Bodean!) and her sold out solo show at the Town Pump in 1996 was a highlight real gig. Regrets, I’ve had a few... - BH h Eugene Chadbourne - There’ll Be No Tears Tonight (1987) Long time experimental guitar skronker Eugene Chadbourne does his own unique spins on such old school truckstop jukebox classics “Swingin’ Doors”, “Honey Don’t”, and a difficult Johnny Paycheck medley. Loosely uses country swing arrangements that squeal and pop around to become excursions into ‘free country swing.’ Or, as he describes it, ‘free improvised country and western bebop.’ See also: his double album LSD C&W. - RD h U.S. Saucer - My Company is Misery (1992) Modern moaning dirge music. The singer really moans. High and lonesome. Includes one Thinking Feller. No drums. Lots of dramatic electric guitar interplay that sounds like they might just coil up on and detune each other amidst these mellow songs of diagonal mourning. Roomy. Cryptic lyrics. See also: all of their other albums. - RD

tos’ Sneaky Pete to play psych pedal steel on his/her rekkids? No. Evan did and he sang duet with Julianna Hatfield that sounded a modern Gram/Emmylou to these ears. His Live At The Brattle Theatre album on a small Aussie label of a couple years ago that you never heard about included the spaced-out bonus disc Griffith Sunset EP with covers of John Prine, Fred Neil, Tim Hardin’s song “Tribute To Hank Williams”, and, others and it all sounded like it was done whilst passing around hits of nitrous or sumpthin’. - PO

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CONTENTS Blood On the Walls / Psychic Ills / Anemones Media Club,Vancouver, BC Friday, May 6th, 2006 Gosh golly,Vancouver sure likes to get high! But one doesn’t have to be high to feel high. It’s a state of mind! Take the frontman of local act Anemones. He was most probably not high when he purchased his brand new shiny white runners that he was sporting onstage tonight. These habitual openers played pulsating groove-throb-“we had to hire a sitter”-rock. Though they are pretty decent musicians, they all had to bow down before the drum machine. The drum machine was the bandleader. They had an actual drummer but still, the drum machine was the leader. This isn’t an impediment however; they acknowledge its leadership and it works. Organ washes and a real lean towards strong rhythms. As it was Cinco de Mayo, the frontman shook a maraca in celebration of this holiday for about, oh, 30 seconds. An altering lineup that uses a record shop as its epicentre. They collect records. “Hello-oh-oh-oh- we-ee-ee-ee are-are-are Psychic-ic-ic Ills-lls-lls-lss…” Ha ha! Psychic Ills actually don’t sing all that much though when the one fella does he sounds like an ailing aunty moaning for a fresh bedpan making for a perfect fit! Oodles of F/X up the yin/yang. Pedal central. Intense, nuanced waves of hard psych. Not wimpy. Psych so fully realized that one couldn’t even truly detect their influences. They grew their hair out for their music. Driving tribal thud prowess. Kaleidoscope shards. No breaks - just breakdowns, transitions, alterations. The set was sadly all too short, the shortest set of the night, which was the biggest shame. Psychic Ills could have played for hours. It was that captivating. And trance inducing. I was disappointed to find out that they were from New York City. They collect records. I even bought their record! I can’t remember the last time I actually bought a band’s record at their show! I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel jaded (Actually you bought a CD a few months ago at the Zolar X reunion show, a show that you still declare to be the best show so far this year - My Conscience). Blood On the Wall gave me a ‘90s flashback. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for a ‘90s revival. Just thinking of a band recapturing that era makes me feel, well, old. If you lived through it the first time then this band might just give you a premature mid-life crisis. Someone dared me to stage dive. They even played that riff, that quintessential ‘90s riff that was probably begun with the Pixies. This is a band that makes it easy and okay to use the standard hack rock writer crutch of band comparisons: more than hints of the Pixies, Sonic Youth, Hole, and, oh Hell, some Sister Double Happiness for good measure. It‘s their well thought out diversity in song structures that might take them above utter rehash. They really utilize the power trio dynamic. Energetic and enthusiastic. They collect CD’s. - Robert Dayton David Grisman Quintet Chan Theater,Vancouver, BC Saturday, April 29th, 2006 For years, some of the world’s top scientists have struggled to solve one of mankind’s greatest mysteries. What the hell have Deadheads been doing since August 9th, 1995, or the day that Jerry Garcia died? The dominant theory is that most lurk in the dark until a familiar face from the past blows through town, as proven last night as mandolin/dawg music creator David Grisman and the rest of the DGQ returned to Vancouver. The smell of pot and the sight of tie-dyes surfacing at the Chan proved that it was indeed a night for Deadheads to rejoice. Because none of the songs had vocals, Saturday’s performance was an opportunity to showcase the immense talents of everyone in Grisman’s crew. Rarely, if ever, did I hear the usual scraping sound of a finger sliding up a string, and flautist Matt Eakle played as if he taught Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson everything he knows. Much like the Dead in their heyday, everything sounded chaotic yet ordered. What the DGQ does is no different than Garcia during one of his heroin-induced jam sessions.You could literally see the crowd fall victim to the infamous hippy trance of tilting your head up and closing your eyes while swaying from side to side. Picture Stevie Wonder with less rhythm and no smile. But the night belonged to Grisman, whose gray hair and beard gave deadheads a visual reminder to go along with the aural one. Since this tour was meant to celebrate their thirtieth anniversary, the quintet played two sets spanning work across all three decades, from Dawgnation to Dawgwood. They even managed to slip in some new stuff from

an upcoming album. The way Grisman handles that mandolin is something everyone should witness live. In fact, I can safely say that I haven’t seen anyone handle the shaft of anything that impressively since, well - since me last night. The only difference is that Grisman did it for over two hours while I was lucky to hit the five minute mark. When it was over, everyone left the theater with a smile on their face and a kind word about what they just saw, especially all those Deadheads who have been waiting for a show like this for almost 11 years. It sure beats all those jam bands who do nothing but sing about funky cheese or some craaazy town in Idaho. God, I would like to shoot Dave Matthews in the face. -Seth Fisher Deniz Tek and the Golden Breed Travis Pastor’s house,Vancouver, BC Saturday, April 29th, 2006 2249 E. Broadway is a house not a venue, but on the night of April 29 - it was a venue. Travis Pastor was throwing a party and we were all invited. Few of us knew that Deniz Tek was in town recording with the Godoy Twins for a new project, but for those

Radio Birdman fans who attended and didn’t know, this night was a surprise. Deniz Tek and the Godoys have played together before on several tours and recordings so getting together to play is always a good time for them, even if it’s five songs at a friend’s house! That was what that night was about. The living room was as full as it was gonna get and after a quick volume check the show began. “Hangin’ On” started it all off, followed by “Breaks my Heart”, “Smith and Wesson Blues”, “Hand of Law” and a heavily requested “New Race” to wrap it all up. For myself, seeing this was amazing. I was too young to see Radio Birdman in 1978, when they were putting the Australian music scene on the world map. Geographically, I was several thousand miles away, so this was as close as I was gonna get. Deniz is a dynamic guitarist, and he produced an unreal tone from a borrowed Hi Watt amp; his control over intentional feedback and the way he plays it like an instrument is truly inspirational to witness. Art and Steve Godoy made up a very solid rhythm section, carrying the set in a thundering and powerful direction, especially for a three-piece band! This party, to me, was a celebration of rock at its best and at the same time, I think it was a great gift to all of us. But it was especially great for Jeremy Riley, whose birthday, on April 29th, was the real reason the party was thrown. - Stinky Larry Franz Ferdinand/Death Cab for Cutie Pacific Colliseum,Vancouver, BC April 28th, 2006 As my assistant and I entered the PNE grounds for this evening’s Death Cab for Cutie showdown against the formidable Franz Ferdinand, we couldn’t help but notice the mixed crowd that was amassing outside of the Coliseum. Never before had we seen such an odd mix of skids, whores, rosy-cheeked children, jocks, tweens, raccoons, yuppies, Hell’s Angels and future high-school valedictorians. “What a healthy mélange of folk!” I thought. My assistant nodded (she having the unique power of telepathy). Isn’t it a telling sign of the times when all walks of life come out for a night of easy-listening indie-pop/ rock? But as quickly as my mind was blown, how

soon it was deflated. Sadly, this motley crew wasn’t all following the same evening agenda; unbeknownst to me, some sissy kickboxing tournament was being held at the Agridome next door. Exhaling giant sighs, we text messaged “2 good 2B tru...lolz” to each other and set forth into the darkened arena. Almost immediately the lights dimmed while the intro to Death Cab’s “Passenger Seat” led us to our seats (10th row, bitch). “Different Names For The Same Thing” followed suit, collapsing with a giant crescendo, warming up the crowd for what turned out to be a surprisingly ho-hum set. See, the main problem was that DCFC played a lot of “shitty” rather than “good” songs. Why they avoided playing “I Was A Kaleidoscope”, “Why You’d Want To Live Here” or “405” is like, totally beyond me. Halfway through the band’s set, frontman Ben Gibbard stopped the show to make a very important announcement that four gorillas had recently escaped from the Vancouver Zoo, but that was unfortunately all the information he had at the time and carried on with the gig. “Uh-oh” I burped, “I smell some hi-jinks in my near future!” At any rate, despite the odd song selection and rattling acoustics, the band left the audience satisfied and more than excited for Glasgow’s finest. Though my mind was still preoccupied thinking about delinquent gorillas, Franz Ferdinand still couldn’t grab my attention with their initial moments on stage. A sloppy “This Boy” started the set, followed by a lifeless “Do You Want To?” – to which I replied, “Not if you’re going to play like that, Archduke!” Again, lolz. Trailing this dud couplet came the shocking pace-killers “Walk Away” and “Eleanor Put Your Boots On” which caused limited motion from the crowd and a whole lot of huffing and puffing from yours truly. At long last, the big guns came out in the form of worldwide chart-buster “Take Me Out”. “Anytime, Ferdinand,” I swooned. And then, to my delight, a troop of gorillas stormed the stage and started dancing! Oh my eyes, it was a fine spectacle. Gorillas dancing. Well, I thought I had seen everything. Until of course these gorillas took off their masks (!?) only to reveal themselves as, wait for it, the members of Death Cab For Cutie. “Off the stage, Cuties!” I bellowed, and exit they did. The Guns of Glasgow fired strong from this point on, with the rump shakin’ “Outsiders” and massive encore “This Fire”. It seemed like the kids were getting their $50 worth after all. But one question remained: what happened to the real gorillas that escaped from the zoo? - Adam Simpkins The Stills Richard’s on Richards,Vancouver, BC Wednesday, April 26th, 2006 If you were one of the lucky ones that came along for the ride, then you know that no amount of praise can accurately describe how fucking awesome tonight’s show was. And it had nothing to do with my drunkenness, because I’m usually hammered at every show, and I can still tell the good from the absolute shit. The Stills were in town to promote an album that doesn’t come out for another couple of weeks, and the room was abuzz with unrealistic expectations. Thankfully, Tim, Dave and the rest of the band did not disappoint, and the crowd went nuts for “In The Beginning”, - the opening track off the new album – even though nobody had heard it before. Naturally, the intensity didn’t reach its peak until we finally had something to sing along to, and we didn’t have to wait long as the band followed with a blistering rendition of “Lola Stars and Stripes”. Thereafter, the hits kept coming and the crowd kept getting hotter. Even the older songs seemed fresh thanks to the new members of the band. Liam’s keyboards gave “Still In Love” a new twist while recently recruited drummer Julien made all the older material his own. It was all done effortlessly, or maybe it just seemed that way because they were having such a good time up on stage. The hyped-up Diableros opened the show, and while they did their best, I wasn’t impressed. Nothing wrong with the music; I just had issues with the singer trying to

LIVE

sound like David Bowie doing karaoke Cure. But the crowd seemed entertained, so what do I know? - Seth Fischer Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Blood on the Wall Orpheum Theatre,Vancouver, BC. Monday, April 24, 2006 Attending a concert at the Orpheum is often a mixed blessing. While the surroundings are exquisite, and the sound is generally first rate, much depends on whom you are there to see. For acts like Sigur Rós or Tom Waits, the venue is ideal because it is suited for more refined performances and demure clientele. But for livelier acts, like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Blood on the Wall, the theatre is less accommodating; not to mention its security staff hell-bent on diffusing any suspicious fun-bombs likely to be detonated by a predominately youthful patronage. Playing to a half-filled hall, New York’s Blood on the Wall took the stage to a surprising roar, regardless of its bare bones setup and bashful demeanour. The band rifled through a 30-minute set of raw, garage inspired indie-rock, despite having to play to a room of seated punters who moved only to punch their fists in the air to show approval. In fact, from the vantage point of the upper balcony, the scene looked more like an audience of excited paraplegics rather than young, mobile rock fans (perhaps our new mayor is influencing our impressionable youth after all). After a brief intermission, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs took the stage to an even greater ruckus from the now near-capacity auditorium that even found the courage to stand for occasion. Needing no introduction, the band swiftly rolled into “Cheated Hearts” from its most recent album. Fittingly, the most striking lyric from the song is Karen O’s lament: “Sometimes I think I’m bigger than the sound” which, in this case, rang especially true. While her voice and antics are usually ample entertainment to appease any crowd, it still felt like there was something lacking; it’s just not enough having Karen O belting out the songs and dancing like everyone’s watching. With only one guitarist in the band – that being the invariably aloof Nick Zinner – it’s even more imperative that the group maximizes its already limited sound. But carry on they did, blasting through a large selection of tracks from Show Your Bones, and of course the requisite hits “Maps” and set closer “Y Control” with the former sounding exhausted and the latter tearing the roof down. So while the YYYs are at that awkward stage in their career – too big to play the smaller venues, but not quite in the position to play arenas – it might be time to work out that Big Sound without having to compromise their ethos; failing that, perform in more appropriate venues. - Adam Simpkins

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CONTENTS The Aggrolites s/t Hellcat It’s pretty hard not to judge this book by its cover. Not that the front gives you any hints, but the back shows five fair skinned, tattooed, grimacing men all dressed in black. The lead singer has a wooden curb-stomping bat slung over his right shoulder. They hardly look the type to deliver honest roots reggae and gritty ska born out of Jamaica via Southern

California. They have already opened for the likes of Madness and Rancid so they’ve got some chops. I know I had to double check several times just to make sure I’d put the right CD in. How the hell can these guys get away with playing a song like “Funky Fire” and make it sound like they never left Kingston? Respect. - Filmore Mescalito Holmes Chris Alexander I Am the Apocalypse Meridian Music Ooo… what a beauty. A flowing, seething, otherworldly beast. Alexander’s infatuation with the lost (and I suppose, rekindled?) art of synth-based horror ambience continues, with an album possibly more unified, organic, and simultaneously abrasive than ever before. “Pulverizer” revisits the pseudo-church pipes of Alexander’s earlier “Organ Grinder” before breaking into some weird danceclash and grating scratch loops. “The Quiet Life of Martha Morris”, a tribute to the armless, legless, well… freak from Tod Browning’s 1932 film Freaks, is a heart-crushingly dreary epic, a moaning circus dirge – potent, engrossing and totally depressing. “Gone” and “Devils of the Desert” abandon the electronics for an acoustic guitar, reverberated so far to oblivion that my head’s literally trapped inside the instrument. All in all – a seriously sombre analog affair; not exactly a Friday night party mix, but a magnificent druggy headtrip for an evening of Nekromantik and accompanying wrist slashing. - Dave Bertrand Beirut Gulag Orkestar Ba Da Bing I love that just when you think everything is dull and mundane in music something like Beirut always comes way out of left field to make you come to your senses. Beirut’s unique brand of Balkan-styled pop has recently caused Albuquerque native, Zach Condon, to be crowned the new darling of the blogosphere, and for good reason. Gulag Orkestar is filled with the sort of captivating sounds and Eastern Bloc beats that would come from some hipster-driven gypsy caravan. With Condon’s deep-voiced crooner vocals, which are somewhat similar to Rufus Wainwright’s, he spins his historically inspired tales of the Old World through an assortment of accordions, ukuleles and some tremendous horns that sound very Neutral Milk Hotel in origin. At the tender age of 19, Condon has already released an album worthy of a chair in the cult-status hierarchy, so enjoy this now while the waters are still rather calm. - BRock Thiessen

Code Pie This Habit Flagless Hailed by CBC Radio as “the next great Montreal band” (I’m assuming after the eminent Bootsauce), Code Pie is a multipiece outfit fluent in literate, atmospheric pop not unlike Arcade Fire or the Most Serene Republic. With its finely crafted pop arrangements and soaring vocals, the comparisons to other Montreal bands (namely Bootsauce) will be hard to resist. However, and there is always a however, This Habit has the tendency to get a little too far ahead of itself and often suffers from the too-manycooks-in-the-kitchen syndrome that’s been plaguing Canadian bands ever since 16-piece collectives became de rigueur. Lingering horn and string sections are tossed around willy-nilly, and the excess baggage sabotages potentially great songs like “Gala” and “Weight”. With a little restraint and maturation (maybe a cooler name?), Code Pie could quickly be on its way to becoming the next… who knows? Bootsauce, perhaps? - Adam Simpkins Dearly Beloved You Are The Jaguar Independent As I’m already running five days behind deadline, and four out of every five selfreleased albums I listen to is complete shit, I’m going to this give album five stars because - unlike copyright protection bitches Underoath (see review on next page) – Dearly Beloved gives away mp3s on its website. Further research reveals the band also features GEDDY LEE’S NEPHEW Rob Higgins (ex-Change Of Heart) and Danko Jones’ former drummer now playing guitar. Anything related to Geddy Lee and Danko Jones, no matter how remotely, has got to be awesome. - Derek Bolen Demented Are Go Hellbilly Storm Hepcat This is the first collection of new material from these guys since 1999’s Hellucifernation. It didn’t find North American release until now on Hepcat, but was released in Europe through People Like You Records last winter, with much cooler cover illustration by Vince Ray. Strangely enough, according to the liner notes, the new artwork is by Vince Ray as well. Makes me wonder why they downgraded to the grade-school-collage

Marq DeSouza s/t Independent I first saw Marq DeSouza about 10 years ago at the Town Pump playing drums for Cinnamon. My girlfriend said he stood out from the rest of the band because he was wearing such a nice dress shirt. She was right. I’ve been wearing dress shirts myself ever since. On his newest solo album, DeSouza continues to have ideas that I wouldn’t mind stealing. Ignoring the opening track (a glam metal gross-out) and the scattershot production, DeSouza’s innate good taste is here in abundance: in the tones, the mandolin that drifts into “A Lucky Man”, the heavenward chord changes of “Daddy Doom”, the rat-a-tat chorus of “Glimpse of Her” (if only this was on the radio…), and all the sly melodic directions he consistently takes with no apparent shortness of breath. Even in the more hard-charging moments, like “Some $, Somehow”, the twang in DeSouza’s heart means that he can’t help himself with a tossed-off beauty of a guitar-lick or turn-of-phrase. All of which underscores his way smarter than average take on the singer-songwriter thing, and his ear for what made rock classic. It’s like a piece of Todd Rundgren broke off and landed here. I sincerely wish DeSouza had a bigger budget, and a world that continued to have ears for smart rock ‘n’ roll. He’s still got a lot of style, and he still stands out. - Adrian Mack Arrington de Dionyso Breath of Fire K Ok, seriously, when was the last time someone released a truly great Tuvan throat-singing album? I know, it’s been a while. And when was the last time an artiste was bold enough to record 40 minutes of unlistenable - and I mean really unlistenable – wank, that is likely to produce an overwhelming response of indifference? Exactly. We’ve waited long enough! Thank your lucky stars, then, that Arrington de Dionyso (Old Time Relijun) was generous enough to sit down for an afternoon and expel his demons through unrestricted, guttural improvisations with his “trained” voice and squawking bass clarinet. Now, because I’ve been often accused of having an unusually arid sense of humour, I’ll spell it out for you: this album is an inexcusable mess of ridiculousness (and that’s coming from someone who is the “go to guy” for anything K Records puts out and placed OTR’s 2012 on his best of 2005 list). But, you know, De Dionyso probably wants us to hate this. He’d probably really get off on us squares giving Breath of Fire the bum’s rush. That would just prove his point, man: this generation of Philistines just doesn’t “get” him and we’re simply an ignorant flock of uncultivated sheep limiting ourselves to the strict confines of what art should be and what art should not be. Umm… whatever, dude; I can’t believe you had the gall to crap out this self-indulgent turd. Look, I’m sure it was really liberating releasing all of that pent up guilt and aggression with your garahhhhs and braugghhhhs, but come on, no one wants to hear this, let alone have to pay money for it.You’ve got some nerve, de Dionyso. - Adam Simpkins

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Here’s a clear cut example for you to make your judgement on. Carnegie Hall is just Ani, her guitar, and her words in front of a seven months post-9/11 New York crowd. Although it’s obvious and DiFranco herself notes that the peak of the album is her reading of the epic, at the time unnamed poem “Self Evident,” her moving stream of consciousness style of abused guitar is the path that brings you to it. This is Ani at her most righteous and fragile, though admittedly not necessarily her most precise. But I think if you listen to this performance just once, you’ll see there’s much more to her than a series of chords and lyrics. Like George Carlin said, “It’s not enough to know which notes to play; you gotta know why they need to be played.” - Filmore Mescalito Holmes Don Caballero World Class Listening Problem Relapse Poised to pick up where Slint left off during the early-mid ‘90s, the post-rock/ instrumental Don Caballero released a steady stream of impressive recordings

during this era but was often considered too experimental or abrasive to be universally embraced by the fickle indie-rock community. Damon Che, drummer and anchor of the group, has now enlisted a new team of musicians for this reformation of sorts (they had technically broken-up a few years ago), without sacrificing the quality or essence of earlier incarnations of Don Cab. With its new home on Relapse, it’s no surprise that the album has its heavy moments, but isn’t limited to this by any means. “Palm Trees in the Fecking Bahamas” is a breezy pop-influenced number, while “Railroad Cancellation” rolls along at a pleasant, non-frightening pace. But it’s not all sofas and backrubs; DC still knows how to throw a sucker-punch just when you least expect it. - Adam Simpkins

new anti-rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle has done wonders and left Hayman in top form. He has toned down the electronics a bit and humbly brought a ukulele and battered telecaster for protection, making the songs much warmer and inviting here. Also, his character sketches about retiring schoolteachers, plummeting airhostesses and bingo-parlour champions are by far the best he has done in years. Sadly, Table For One will probably fall way under the radar here in North America and push Hayman one step closer to obscurity. - BRock Thiessen I Object Teaching Revenge Alternative Tentacles Um...well, the packaging is nifty and you gotta respect the whole “DIY” aspect of this CD. Listen, I’m trying to be nice, but unfortunately the only positives I can say about this band have nothing to do with the actual music. I Object is an angry, angry band with lead singer Barb being the angriest. I swear if I ran into her on the streets somewhere, I’d probably run like hell the other way. Not sure if that would be because of fear of her killing me or fear of her singing to me. I used to be into the loud and obnoxious political

rants, but I would like to think that my musical tastes have become somewhat subdued as I got older. However, I will admit, that this is what real punk sounds like. Think Minor Threat on speed, bands trying to send a message to the listener. Not like the new punk “lite” that everyone already knows sucks balls. Kudos for thanking Chuck Norris in the liner notes. You also gotta love how the 16 songs clock in at under 20 minutes. - Seth Fischer

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look. But enough, we’re not here to talk about pretty pictures. While it isn’t quite as catchy as Hellucifernation and is less dynamic than In Sickness and In Health or Tangenital Madness, Hellbilly Storm trudges along at a constant meat-grinding pace. It is an album that, if you are a DAG fan, you will surely appreciate. Although, believers who’ve been made to wait as long as six years are bound to want a little more out of the eventual release. This album takes several listens before it redeems that wait and dodges those lofty expectations. - Devon Cody

Ani DiFranco Carnegie Hall 4.6.02 Righteous Babe Ani is one of the greatest folk artists in American history. And looking at the USA’s past, you know there’s been a lot of shit to get folking pissed at for generations; enough that it’d probably place her in the running for the best in the world. If not, she’s still recognized as one of the most emotionally powerful and precise acoustic guitarists in existence.

Darren Hayman Table For One Track and Field Darren Hayman, former frontman of the unacknowledged Hefner, has once again decided to brave the elements and crawl out of his cosy hiding hole with an album. Since his last offering as the French – which delved deeper into the garage sale electronics of Hefner’s Dead Media – he has gotten married, enrolled in art school, and recovered from a six month internet chess addiction. This

Knights Of The New Crusade A Challenge to the Cowards of Christendom Alternative Tentacles What? A gospel-punk band on Alternative Tentacles? Doesn’t Jello Biafra despise religion? Isn’t this a bit hypocritical? Wait a minute, why would a Christian garage band sign to a secular (atheist?) label? Don’t worry, your questions are all justified and hopefully answerable – of course, you might need to take a short leap of faith to uncover the real truth. First and foremost, KOTNC is not a joke band. They are the living embodiment of a Jack Chick cartoon: evangelical, preachy, in-your-face and dead serious about spreading The Word. We should hate this, right? Not so fast, heathen. Taken at

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CONTENTS kitsch value (and it’s pretty hard not to), A Challenge to the Cowards of Christendom is actually a pretty, er, righteous album. Garage punk in the spirit of the Sonics and the Mummies, with punchy sermons that could turn even the most skeptical away from the evil grip of Satan; who knows, you sinners might just get the urge to repent after all. - Adam Simpkins The Lashes Get It Columbia There are times when only a contagious pop tune will do, and the Lashes are here to meet that need. If the Strokes were to perform at a children’s birthday party, this is what you’d get: harmless lite rock ‘n’ roll pop with enough swagger to still be cool without going all McFly. Irresistibly catchy, Get It is full of infectious

tunes and pop songs for people who like rock. The Lashes embrace melodies and fun and still rock out with guitars and heartbreak. Perfect for the teenage market, but with enough retro to remind the parents of their love of the Ramones, by rights, this band should be massive. “Daddy’s Little Girl” is sassy and will stay in your head all day. The closer, “Wanna Girl” is exactly three minutes of hooky perfection that will have you jumping around the bedroom in your battered baseball boots. Grunge is dead, and it’s time for some tunes. - Stephanie Heney Leeroy Stagger Tales from the Back Porch EP Boompa This limited edition EP is a collection of songs from Stagger’s Beautiful House album that have been re-recorded in a pared down and rough style. The opener, “I Break Hearts”, is a gorgeous, slide guitar Stonesy rock sway with dry lyrics to accompany his raw ‘been on the road’ vocals. The dirty, lazy country sound slows down for the rest of the EP, and “Beautiful House” is a lonely small town blues heartbreaker; I can’t say ‘Ryan Adams’ enough to describe it. Elsewhere on “Stupid Love Song”, there are the smallest hints of Fleetwood Mac and a violin accompaniment add a folksy tinge to the melodic sweetness. This is an atmospheric collection of songs, and makes you wish Stagger would re-record the whole album in this style. His rootsy country rock ‘n’ roll sound is so authentic, and his voice so angst-ridden, that it’s hard to believe he’s only 21. - Stephanie Heney

and convertible, like a British rock band trying to sound like mellow Americans in 1973. That’s still considered fun in some people’s homes, and certainly in mine. Grab it all for free from their website (lionsinthestreet.com), you lucky people. - Adrian Mack The Loved Ones Keep Your Heart Fat Wreck Chords Hey, how about it, another Fat release that doesn’t suck! I know, I was surprised, too. The singer sounds as if he is pushing the very limits of his ability - as if he’s trying his best to do a job that he is not entirely suited for and it’s kind of endearing. Musically, Keep Your Heart is more along the lines of the Replacements than the usual Fat pop punk, and makes me feel as if I’m in a grainy rock video. Huh? What the fuck does that mean? That does it I’m going to stop reading Vice magazine before I turn into a hipster dufus. More of a hipster dufus, that is. - Chris Walter Motor Klunk Mute I can’t stand dance music, so to review this fairly, I had to put aside my prejudices and do some research. It turns out there’s a difference between old school electronica and ‘need to be on drugs to bear it’ techno music. Luckily, this is the former, and as it comes from Mute (home of Cabaret Voltaire, Nitzer Ebb and lords of uber weird Einstürzende Neubauten) it’s worth some attention. Motor’s full-length debut is 60 minutes of punishing, sinister, electro-industrial darkness. I was surprised to discover the track “Sweatbox” was a huge dancefloor release, because I found it the most boring: eight minutes of bleak and repetitive drumming, culminating in someone sending a fax. “1x1” is more fun; featuring Satan on guest vocals (actually Douglas McCarthy from Nitzer Ebb) and the trancey “King of USA” is Underworld meets Revolting Cocks. All in all, if you like menacing drum machine psychotic industrial tunes, this is for you. - Stephanie Heney Mouth Sewn Shut Pandemic Solution Rodent Popsicle Crust purists may hate this because you can actually hear the lyrics once in a while. The band also throws in a few ska and/or reggae licks and this also helps lift Pandemic Solution above the usual crust/ hardcore fare. Not only that, but the riffs are surprisingly catchy and melodic. Don’t worry – it’s still raunchy enough to make your ears bleed. - Chris Walter Mr. Plow Chairman Plow’s Little Red Book Crusty Ironically, I didn’t truly appreciate the genius of Mr. Plow until I saw a tribute act called Plow King. He really is such a potty-mouthed teddy bear that you just want to give him a great big hug. None of this Brokeback Mountain stuff mind you, but a hug of manly affection. This time around, Plow sets his sights on emo and Ted McGinley (amongst other things) to uproarious effect. He even throws in some remixes, just to round out the package. Next time you see Plow at the Cobalt, make sure to give him a big squeeze for me. - Chris Walter

- along with its desperation act, legacyraping sequel - are both concept albums. We have a full-blown plot with government oppression, resistance groups, and characters that include a nun (Sister Mary) who used to be a whore! But pull your pants up boys, she died at the end of the first album. Too bad vocalist Geoff Tate survived; a sequel to their fans most cherished album is something these male cougars should never dared consider, let alone try. - David Von Bentley fueled by blatant government corruption, meaning the new album should be its best since Vitalogy right? In the eyes of most cunt rag critics, yes. In the opinion of this huge bloodied tampon of a critic, well, let me put it this way; I have a full bottle of unused lube thanks to this self-titled boner killer. I was waiting for something to perk my interest, to fuel my fire for flannel, but alas - nothing. It all starts promisingly with “Life Wasted” and “World Wide Suicide”, two rockin’ songs that, however good, never leave the shadows of past P J rockers. Pearl Jam has been accused of experimenting too much and the song “Parachute” is a prime example of why perspective is key when experimenting, and from my perspective this track will be the new theme song to Pink Planet. I think the problem is Eddie Vedder writes too much of the music. Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard always wrote the best music for Pearl Jam, but their roles have been diminished in favour of Vedder’s musical simplicity. I wanted to love this album, but it’s going to end up as dusty as my leaky throbber. - David Von Bentley Peeping Tom s/t Ipecac Just like a cold war era atomic bomb falling on your genitals, Mike Patton always comes out of nowhere to blow your dauber away. The accessibility of his musical mojo might be debatable at times, but it’s never less than an interesting challenge. Peeping Tom itself is by far his most digestible release in years, with more focus on songcraft, and less on maniacal cum shots of sound every five seconds (check out the last Fantomas album for a reference). This results (in my drug hazed opinion) in the best album of 2006 without a fucking question. Patton’s range as a singer is dumbfounding; he switches from death metal screams to date rapist lounge crooning. All of the songs are collaborations with bands/DJ’s like Massive Attack, Dub Trio, Rahzel, and he even gets the adult contemporary jazz singer Norah Jones to say “motherfucker” like she has dirty panties. - David Von Bentley

Rebel Meets Rebel Rebel Meets Rebel Big Vin I love this record - it’s tastier than a slice of Bible belt apple pie. We have Rex Brown,Vinnie Paul, and Dimebag (RIP) Darrell - all of Pantera fame - teaming up with maybe the most controversial cunt tree music artist of all time, David Allan Coe. He’s most famous for writing the classic song ‘Take this Job and Shove it”, but he also made some X-rated albums that are essentially banned from here to Jerusalem (download “Fuckin’ in the Butt”, “Cum Stains on the Pillow”, or “Linda Lovelace”). This is truly a first for me. I didn’t want to hear a country and metal fusion, but these musicians have put together something special. Dimebag goes from power groove metal, to country twang picking, to whisky soaked blues solos. DAC is a dirty old fuck, and his vocals are aged and full of character. On a couple of tracks you get some blazing fiddle solos and we even get a guest appearance on vocals by Hank Williams III. It’s fun a listen from beginning to end, but it comes with a fair helping of sadness. This is maybe the last release of studio quality material featuring Dimebag. I beg anyone to give this a chance; I think you’ll like it and Dimebag deserves one last listen. Drink a black tooth, grin and enjoy. - David Von Bentley The Streets The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living Vice I’ve heard a few tracks from the Streets before, because I wanted to understand the hype. I must admit, I wasn’t really impressed by what I heard. It just sounded like some white British guy poorly rapping over some lame old school beats (which is pretty much all it really was). The new album is no different, but for some reason I found it to be pretty damned good! Perhaps it’s because almost everything I hear nowadays is utter crap and I have become more tolerant towards anything that is only

Queensryche Operation: Mindcrime II Rhino/Wea I have to give my condolences to the ‘Ryche fans around the world. From start to finish this record is far more boring than your fourth beat off session thinking about Sister Mary’s ATM prostitute days before becoming a nun. “What the fuck does that mean,” you ask? Well, ATM is Ass To Mouth and Operation: Mindcrime

Sunset Rubdown Shut Up I Am Dreaming Absolutely Kosher When it comes to touring there often exists two categories: those who view it as complete torture, and those like Spencer Krug who can’t deal with the quiet of the post-tour comedown. Krug, who is half of Wolf Parade’s songwriting muscle, has swiftly unloaded a full-length under the name, Sunset Rubdown. Even though this putative solo project is now a full-band effort, the bulk of this album sadly feels too removed and synthetic for comfort. This is partly due to its overly dark and brooding nature, as well as the fact that Krug’s bleak lyrical musings often seem a bit too affected and nonsensical. As a result, it’s nearly impossible to feel any real connection to this album. The digital and rigid feel of the production doesn’t help either. Shut Up I Am Dreaming isn’t necessarily a totally bad record; it’s just not all that great. - BRock Thiessen Taking Back Sunday Louder Now Warner As far as backhanded compliments go, you could do much worse than Taking Back Sunday. Sure, it’s emotional and riddled with juvenile rantings. True, your 14-year old sister will have all of their songs memorized by the time you read this review and no doubt TBS will be making the rounds with the likes of Fall Out Boy and Hawthorne Heights in the months to come.Yeah? So what. Louder Now is a solid rock album with some of the catchiest hooks you’ll come across this year. The band marks its turf from the get-go with the gigantic “What’s It Feel Like to Be a Ghost” followed by the ridiculously infectious “Liar” and into the recent hit single “Makedamnsure”. Of course the album has its flaws – it’s near impossible for a major-label/emo band to make a critically and audience acclaimed album - but minor missteps aside, Louder Now is a surprisingly accomplished effort. - Adam Simpkins Thursday A City By the Light Divided Island Thursday’s 5th full-length marks a step forward from the now formulaic scream/ sing dynamic the band helped define on its earlier releases. With the addition of a new keyboardist and a deeper embrace of melody over abrasiveness, Thursday seems poised to take the post-hardcore genre to a whole new level, much as labelmates Thrice did on last year’s Vheissu. Singer Geoff Rickly has learned to remove the grating nasal whine from his voice - another huge plus. Definitely an exciting album when you consider the road it opens for the band, even if the formula still requires a little more tweaking. - Derek Bolen

REVIEWS

Lions in the Street Cat Got Your Tongue Independent These guys are recovering from one of those life-changing, major label near misses, apparently. Whatever happened out there, the songwriting has sure gotten leaner since they last time I heard ‘em, when they were called the Years. And boy do they ever look like they sound. The time warp is so strong on Lions in the Street that it almost feels naughty to enjoy it so much, but if Faces/Stones is your bag, they’re doing it waaaay better than most. Good for both pub

Pearl Jam s/t J Every single Pearl Jam has given me a leaking throbber at a certain point, and god knows this band is at its best when it’s pissed off. These days, Pearl Jam is

half-crap. Whatever the reason, I can’t stop listening to this. The two songs that really stand out for me are the title track and “Never Went to Church”, which is basically Mike Skinner rapping over the piano melody from the Beatles “Let It Be”. Picture Ali G. spewing nonsense over unoriginal beats for 11 songs. Doesn’t sound too appealing and really, there should be nothing appealing about this album, but there is. It’s good, and I can’t really explain why - such a frustrating sentiment. - Seth Fischer

Underoath Define the Great Line Tooth and Nail I wouldn’t have minded reviewing this CD, having been mildly impressed with Underoath’s 2004 release They’re Only Chasing Safety. Tragically, the powers that be at Tooth and Nail records felt that Underoath’s brand of mediocre Christian screamo was SO in demand that they needed to copyright protect the promotional copy of the CD I received, ensuring it wouldn’t play in any computer, and hence rendering it a promotional coaster. They were also kind enough to include legal threats towards our friendly neighborhood music editor in the event the CD was leaked on to the Internet, scourge of record industries everywhere. Sure, I could have borrowed my roommate’s archaic discman, but that would

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CONTENTS have required more effort than I’m willing to put in to ensure that a record label willing to bleed it’s 15 year old fan base of every penny they’re worth gets publicity for the generally mediocre music they force down the throats of pre-pubsecent suburbia. As I’m fairly confident most of Underoath’s fans are unable to read (I blame the school system), I guess it doesn’t really matter. - Derek Bolen V/A Acrustic Age Vol 2;The Curse of the Pharos Tune Crusty The best thing about “acoustic punk” is that you can actually hear the lyrics, and make no mistake this is some funny shit. From the irreverent and hilarious “Jesus Was Born in Steeltown” by B.A. Johnson to “I, Cigarette Whore” by Johnny Sizzle, The Curse of the Pharos Tune is a howl from start to finish. I advise you to get very drunk on cinnamon flavoured whisky and sing along to this CD loudly enough to bring the cops around. You’ll still be humming “I’m a Stupid Fucking Moron” by Hugh Phukovsky when they let you out of the drunk tank the next morning. - Chris Walter V/A Headbangers Ball:The Revenge Roadrunner Most television based compilations are either superfluous or just blow ass (any Ally McBeal fans in the house?). Being as all of four tracks out of 38 aren’t already available elsewhere, the third dual disk Headbanger’s Ball collection definitely favours the former. However, the inclusion of an Avril Lavigne/Britney Spears co-writing team effort “Liar” by Korn and cuts from Avenged Sevenfold and HIM could make a good case for this being mainstream pop metal bollocks. Funny, I don’t remember the Ball being so top 40 and emo. It’s a really interesting mix for me as I’m not huge into metal and I like to see what’s über popular these days. Apparently, loud and ball-less is in. I already own the album of the only band I really like on here, Mudvayne, and any fan will already have their faves last album as well. Redundancy aside, Lamb Of God’s live version of “Now You’ve Got Something To Die For” and tracks from Lacuna Coil, Mastodon, Chimera, God Forbid, From First To Last, and Blood_Simple are all pretty solid. But, for the most part, the mainstream metal showcased here is a castrato caricature of Ozzy Osborne… just listen to Black Label Society and see. - Filmore Mescalito Holmes V/A ODmagazine Compilation Pickled Whale Meat ODmagazine is a depressing, socially conscious rant session, published in a little

shack in Maple Ridge with photocopies and staples. Art, music, poetry, life under the heel of the Vancouver Olympic Committee – OD’s about as D.I.Y. underground as it gets. And FREE! Now they’ve got a comp – also FREE! – a monstrous 28 tracks of metal/punk and Plow heaven. April’s CD release party at the Monkey Pit was an all-night success, but I bailed early for the Big Smash! Festival’s screening of Stunt Rock (thanks Kier-la!), scoping only three acts, most notably opener Execution 66’s sterling brand of strained-

wonder no one else thought of it. Some of their hooks are pretty good, but the hardcore element lets it down. Although it’s kept to a minimum, the slowdown and chant/screaming bit grows tiresome quickly. This album would be a lot better if the Dead just stuck to its other vocal styles - including bouce punk and metal screaming. If you like the whole post hardcore/screamo thing then this band is definitely worth a check out. If not, well, we don’t hold grudges here at the Nerve. - Dale De Ruiter for the most part, the original songs are so good they can stand up to a butchering from a bad band. And it’s good for a pitiful laugh. If you would like to hear terrible emo, screamo, hardcore, whatevermocore bands either totally botch or flatten songs like “March of the Pigs”, “Under the Bridge”, “Black Hole Sun”, “Big Time Sensuality”, and “In Bloom”, then come on over to my place and I’ll burn the fucker for you. For the love of Christ, don’t buy it. Don’t even steal it. This shit’s got to be stopped. - Devon Cody

lung punk-thrash. On record they sound like a clogged toilet. Each OD disc is individually spray-painted (RAD!), and the production value is best summarized by their distribution label (0¢), but time and sheer love has turned a mess of unbalanced basement recordings and antagonistic genres into a flowing, cohesive whole, with spoken word and movie clips to boot. Specific goodies: Jaded Jinas – one of two female vocals on the comp (the other’s an endearing boozed-out guitar/vocal secret track). The Jina’s sing, “Get into my truck. I’m on the rag and I need a good fuck.” Elsewhere, The Joint Chief’s (headliners at the CD release) frantically stomp through ‘Who Do You Trust?”, The Rebel Spell completely wail “Bring Em In”, Boy Bled Dry mangles us with awkward treble-y fret slides, and the Likely Lads shout, “We’ll all be dead in 2010,” about a million times. One final bizzarity – the crossed-out name in the thank you notes. Brutal! - David Bertrand V/A Punk Goes ‘90s Fearless I’ll admit it. I’m a sucker for cover songs, especially blundering, cheesy punk covers. According to Fearless Records’ claims that the “Punk Goes…” series of compilations have sold over 250,000 copies, it seems I’m not the only one. However, I have heard every one of these collections (Pop, ‘80s, Acoustic, Metal) and they are all quite terrible. Not even in a good way. I would have to say Punk Goes ‘90s is the best of these stinkers only because,

V/A Punk Rock Mix Tape 2006 Fastmusic/PunkRadioCast I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m just in the right mood? Or maybe Fastmusic and PunkRadioCast have managed to put together a collection of second-comingof punk rock songs from the past couple years that resonates with the quality compilations of the mid-‘90s. The fact that the songs on this CD were chosen based on votes placed by radio listeners makes me feel a little less crotchety toward the average poppy-punkster. It is an affordable (around 10 bucks) little venture for jaded folks like myself with an appreciation for early Epitaph and Fat Wreckords style punk but a distaste for how it’s “evolved”. Some of the bands of note are: Descendents, Strung Out, Against Me, Against All Authority, the Independents and the Tri-Fives. I can’t even remember the last time I bought an album by a band you’d expect to find on Warped Tour, but thanks to this disc I will be looking to spend even more of my grocery money on CDs. Punk Rock Mix Tape does a fine job of revealing the resilient survivors amidst the syrupy aftermath of the “pop-punk” tsunami. - Devon Cody The Video Dead Brotherhood of the Dead Stereo Dynamite The press release for this CD totes Dead Brotherhood… as a groundbreaking mix of punk and hardcore. Basically, what this means for you the listener is punk guitar and punk choruses, and screaming in the verse. It’s such a good idea it’s a

Scott Walker The Drift 4AD Is it just me or is the number of crazies preaching their apocalyptic nonsense exceptionally high these days? Well, if they ever get their Judgment Day, Scott Walker’s The Drift will likely provide its opening theme. When we last heard from Walker, he had just come out of an 11-year silence to release The Drift’s younger brother Tilt, in ‘95. Previous to this reemergence, he was best know for his records from the late ‘60s - Scott, Scott 2, Scott 3, and Scott 4 - which are often seen as total classics by numerous pop aficionados, aka music nerds. The conventional orchestrations and melodies found on these older recordings are now but a memory as Walker has pursued the more dissonant sounds of the avant-rock and jazz worlds with his current output. At the youthful age of 63, he has distanced himself further from his past, refusing to go back to the calmer days of his youth. It must be said that The Drift is of a very difficult nature and not for those without patience. Abrupt and abrasive key changes are the norm here; instruments transform into frightening sounds of tortured donkeys and swarms of birds; a Gollum-like creature screams into a microphone; and ultra-personal vocal expression is seen as commonplace. Walker combines all these elements with a dense back catalogue of cultural images like Elvis’ still-born twin, Jesse Garon, and the horsemanship of Cossacks, in attempts to give each song its own distinct world. This results in a very texturally complex album that flows like dreams lost in chaos, but in the end is something totally satisfying. Although many are going to write this album off as pretentious bullshit, which in way it kind of is, you at least have to respect Walker for not taking the easy way out with some watered-down version of his former self. - BRock Thiessen Yeah Yeah Yeahs Show Your Bones Universal I’m always wary of uber trendy ‘next big thing’ artists fronted by the latest ‘it-girl’, as it seems all the hype and fluster surPJ Harvey Please Leave Quietly DVD Island

Directed and shot by Marcia Mochnacz, the person behind PJ Harvey’s videos (and a lot of her fashion sense, apparently), this release is a raw look at the British chanteuse onstage and off. The amount of trust she has in Mochnacz is evident in candid backstage footage such as Harvey asking Mochnacz, “How did I get so drunk?” “Probably the tequila shots,” comes the reply, as Harvey’s head hits the table. An avid self-portraiteur, much of the backstage interview footage is Harvey alone with a camera and a mirror. Onstage, Harvey looks radiant. The videography

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rounding them is about everything but the music. Not that I’m suggesting the Yeah Yeah Yeahs courted the ‘image over content’ attention that’s been thrust on them, and it can’t have made writing the follow up to such a hyped debut as Fever to Tell easy. Show Your Bones isn’t so much a departure, but it is more mature, with actual melodic tunes. Karen O delivers more real singing on a lot of the tracks, which is an improvement, although the screechy yowl is still there (and not entirely pleasant to listen to, especially at the end of “Mysteries”). The songs are varied with some of their trademark gritty, full-on throttle mixed with atmosphere and restraint (“Sweets” is a real stunner), which will hopefully see them past the ‘last year’s big thing’ wilderness. - Stephanie Heney Zombi Surface to Air Relapse Acgk! Zombi! This magnificent voiceless duo has engulfed my skull with its funky keyboard melancholia, its ass-tight stickmanship, and it’s next generation Goblin/John Carpenter/Tangerine Dream-ish synth-ridden horror cheese (with drums). Wicked! But there’s another similarity, both niggling and terrible, and more prevalent on Surface to Air than ever before: RUSH.Yep. Canada’s beloved. And I don’t mean moderately awesome “By-tor and the Snow Dog” Rush, either. We’re talking ‘80s Rush, when Geddy Lee gave up his bass for a Roland JX-3P, and… hey! Hey you! Where the hell you going? Zombi is wonderfully oddball amid the usual Relapse metalligentia – appreci-

ate it! At the recent ‘couve gig, StA’s 18minute closer “Night Rhythms” bungled the audience’s senses with pounding toms and diabolical noise loops – that show’s (and this album’s) obvious cumshot. The nasty faux-choral incantation in the middle section is completely evil and pant-shitting. Zombiphiles should also scoop the limited – and oddly danceable – Digitalis three-song tour EP. - David Bertrand

is tasteful and artistic, avoiding the self-aggrandizing many of these kind of exposé, tour diary type DVD’s fall into. Shot mostly in Europe during her 2005 tour in support of Uh Huh Her, the ever-charismatic Harvey is captured at her most confident, settled and balanced. Gone are the lurid one-piece body suits and heavy makeup of the mid ‘90s. Instead, she performs in thin, casual dresses and high heels… and not without a playful sense of humour; one dress has a huge patch of Animal from the Muppets on her ass and another is made from a Spice Girls print. Aside from the main feature’s interviews, backstage antics, and concert footage, Please Leave Quietly also includes another featurette; mostly interviews with Harvey and uninhibited scenes like her trying to decide on an album cover photo while laughing at herself and then dancing around her apartment. A serious fan will already have this, and anyone curious enough to pick this up will, without a doubt, become one. - AD MADGRAS

Short Ends

smaller and not as funny as cheap shotz lifetime achievement award. We spent months working researching and writing that article so it feels like we won something too. Also, The Wind that Shakes the Barley, a sympathetic portrait of the early days of the IRA starring Cillian Murphy, took home the Palme d’Or. Jeepers Creeper Peaceful Warrior is opening in June and is the latest offering from Victor Salva.You might remember Salva for his movies Powder as well as Jeepers Creepers and his confession in 1988 to five felony counts related to having sex with a little boy. Salva, while working on a movie about a clown who terrifies little kids, forced one of the little boys (in grade 6 at the time) to give him a blowjob while he filmed it. Prior to becoming a filmmaker, Salva wrote children’s books and worked at a child care centre. Assume what you will. But to be fair, Peaceful Warrior has been getting some solid reviews. It’s based on inspirational Dan Millman book about a magical old man’s relationship with a young fit boy who’s really good at bending. How does this guy get work?

CONTENTS

Darko Blacklisted Richard Kelly, famous for making the inexplicably popular Donnie Darko, found he’s on a terrorist watch list which delayed his arrival at Cannes. Apparently, NSA wiretaps took the phrase “his movie Domino was a real bomb” out of context. Hissssssssssss. Cannes stuff After the reading the A-Z of Cronenberg article in Nerve Oct 06, the Cannes Jury decided it would be a good idea to present him with a

elcrow Ripper’s parents showed an amazing amount of foresight when they named him because he’s 42 and the stuffwasn’t even on the market yet. Having established himself as a player in the local activist cinema scene with his own movies as well as sound design credits on The Corporation and A Place Called Chiapas, Velcrow took his camera and hit the road for five years to make Scared Sacred, which is now available on DVD. Inspired by an inhale-the-negativity-exhalethe-hope Tibetan meditation called Ton Glen, Scared Sacred is a tastefully done personal documentary that doesn’t come across narcissistic or like it was made by someone who worships crystals (Okay, the soundtrack has one Ani Difranco track, but we’ll let that slide, this time). The mission? Find inspirational tales of hope and happiness in man-made disasters across the planet. What will strike you about this movie is how it differs from traditional activist cinema. Scared Sacred doesn’t deliver sweeping condemnation for the events that took place at each ground zero and avoids the cheap tugs at the heart with archival footage of incinerated bodies and planes crashing buildings (he refers to it as “war porn”). Rather, says Velcrow “The focus of Scared Sacred is breaking down us versus them. As the Dalai Lama says in the film ‘It’s we and they that is the source of all war. There is no enemy.’” While normal people like to go to places that aren’t depressing or shitty for vacation, he decided to go to the most depressing and shitty places on the planet. Just how shitty are these places he visited? Try Hiroshima,

June 23 Wassup Rockers Victor Salva is probably really down with Larry Clark. June 30 Superman Returns Bryan Singer wisely got the fuck away from that atrocious X-Men movie. Smart money would say this movie will be way better. Summer Movie Madness Despite being panned critically, The Da Vinci Code and X-Men 3 have been huge commercial successes. To mark to occasion we’ve decided to publish another topless shot of Audrey Tautou

Video Pick Private School I was watching Kurosawa’s Ran, probably one of the most amazing and profound movies ever made. It’s also very long and I have a weak bladder. When I came back from the washroom 15 minutes later (it takes me a long to get my hulking menace of a cock back in my pants) Private School was on TV. It’s basically a rip off of Porky’s starring Phoebe Cates and some other people. The plot, a bunch of horny guys wanna screw a bunch of private school virgins while the private school virgins wanna tease the cocks of the horny guys. While I was watching this, I could stop thinking how funny it would be if one of the private school girls’ plans to tease the guys cocks backfired and she ended up getting gang raped, Okay, that’s not funny at all. But this movie made me stop watching Ran so that’s gotta mean something.

Some movies of note opening this June June 16 Nacho Libre When I get drunk and pretend to be a character I created called El Unemployedo Beaneatero I get called a racist. But Jack Black does it people think he’s hilarious? Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift I really wish I knew Dick Cheney so he could shoot me in the face.

By Michael Mann Cambodian mine fields, the WTC, Afghanistan, The Gaza Strip, Sarajevo, and The Union Carbide Factory. This, of course, begs the question: what’s wrong with this guy? “Sometimes people get hung up on that and think that I continue to call myself a ‘tourist of darkness’ which isn’t true at all,” Velcrow responds. “To me, making this film was like time traveling into a world we might all be facing. Really looking for the incredible stories of inspiration that I was able to find. Just going to these places where the worst had happened and looking for people who had passed through that to the other side and somehow taking those stories of inspiration back with me.” You’d think a tour like this would make a sane person want to bust out the razor blades and turn up the Simple Plan. But “In actual fact, the reverse happened and the more I traveled the more I became inspired. I found that every place I went, without exception, I did find stories of hope. I began to feel confident. Now I’m left with this unshakable sense of hope. In the beginning it was more overwhelming and as I went further and further I realized what the film was about. Initially the film was going to be about going to the holy places of the world and the scared places of the world. And I did go to both. I found it was much more interesting, much more compelling, and much more meaningful to find the sacred places in the scared place.” Broken up over nine locations, the feel-good stories come from people who’ve opened hospitals, artists inspired by war and genocide, women’s rights movements in Islamic fundamentalist societies, and Arabs and Jews

A deleted Da Vinci scene, just prior to Tom Hanks screwing her senseless.

Victor Salva? I’d leave the kids with him.

working together. One particular tale of note is a man tracking down undetonated mines in Cambodia.Velcrow follows the man as he unearths an active mine and starts shaking the mine in front of the camera and banging on it then decides to disarm it. While this is going on the camera remains eerily steady. Once again, what’s wrong with this guy? “Well there’s not much you can do at that point. It’s funny when—maybe it’s in retrospect—you realize how dangerous it is. Although, when I was getting shot at in Israel I was a little more frightened there. The only thing I was nervous about is that, though the guys knew what they were doing, maybe the presence of a camera might make him a little over confident.”

Oh yes, you read that right. He was shot at while filming at the wonderful wall that separates Israel and Palestine. Despite looking a little flapped on film,Velcrow even found a way to put a positive spin on that. ”It really brought home what all the people I was filming go through every day. They’re getting shot at all the time. That moment, I was seized with this anger that people are trying to kill me. “ He continues, “To go beyond that initial response of wanting to strike back and move to realizing that’s not going to stop the cycle of violence. So, for me, that really brought that home. And,” he adds, “it was terrifying and I did swear.” It’s a shame this guy doesn’t attend more hip-hop shows. That’s right, I went there. n

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ESTS

WITH SPECIAL GU

EDMONTON

VANCOUVER

SHAW CONFERENCE CENTRE

PACIFIC COLISEUM

GENERAL ADMISSION

GA FLOOR / RESERVED STANDS

JULY 31

AUGUST 3

The Nerve June 2006 Page 28 n

PLEASE NOTE: NOT ALL BANDS PERFORM IN ALL MARKETS – PLEASE CHECK LOCAL LISTINGS FOR EXACT BAND LINEUP

The House of Blues Concerts logo and trademarks are under license from House of Blues Brands Corp. (USA).

The Nerve June 2006 Page 29

CONTENTS

Douglas Coupland

By Michael Mann

At this point we discussed fun things like what junkies write on scraps of paper, font serifs and why people love Helvetica and hate Arial (the font the Nerve used to use) for about seven minutes. It was fascinating, but only if you’re a nerd.

ouglas Coupland has been giving Vancouver gifts for some time now and I wanted to give him something back so I picked up a used needle from a Downtown Eastside alleyway and put it in an empty cassette case to give to him. I don’t normally give people gifts that you can rob a bank with but I thought he’d appreciate it… more on that later. Author of Generation X, Microserfs, City of Glass and, most recently, jPod, Coupland is also an accomplished visual artist and now is the star of a new movie, Souvenir of Canada. Based on his coffee table books of the same name, it’s part examination of the difficult-toput-your-finger-on Canadian identity and part Coupland biopic. Directed by Robin Neinstein Souvenir of Canada is what you would get if Errol Morris made a movie about what it means to be Canadian, narrated by Coupland, scored by the New Pornographers and on an NFB budget. The camera follows Coupland around doing everyday things like building a gigantic installation piece called Canada House, which is an entire house that was done up to be a secret handshake that only Canadians would understand. Breaking up that action are dramatic re-creations from Coupland’s past and interviews with Coupland’s family that give you a glimpse into the private life of Vancouver’s most loved author and resident. Aside from Coupland’s off-the-cuff remarks, perhaps the best thing about the movie are the little tangents about Terry Fox, hockey, stubby bottles, bad Canadian culture products, and NFB archive footage. So it only seems fitting that this interview about the movie did the same thing. Nerve: I heard that even though you were a famous author, you worked at Duthie’s Bookstore in Kitsilano in the late 90s. I was curious to see what it was like to work in a bookstore. So [they] let me work there on Sundays. Nerve: Was it because you wanted to sell one of your books to someone who didn’t know who you were? No no no. I stayed hidden the whole time. I tried to be invisible. What surprised me was on Sundays we would sell three or four copies of What to Name the Baby and three to four copies of How to Get the Baby to Sleep. Like in any bookstore there’s always a pile of the current hardcover fiction and I don’t think I ever sold one copy of those.Yet you look at the bestseller list and this doesn’t seem to click with my experience from working in a bookstore. I can’t figure out why How to Get the Baby to Sleep isn’t like Pink Floyd’s Darkside of the Moon, the longest number one book in history. Nerve: I also heard that you collect used needles from the downtown eastside. That was for a specific project. Part of the project was looking for DNA from the early 21st century, like ‘found DNA.’ Part of it was

we went to a school and collected gum from underneath desks. The thinking was we wanted to encase the stuff in amber so that in the future they could go into the gum and extract dental DNA... Nerve: Like Jurassic Park? Yeah, like Jurassic 2005. So we went on a needle drag. The criteria was that it had to be publicly accessible DNA. On the Internet I ordered a neodymium boron super magnet. It’s maybe about the size of a domino. Imagine a domino surrounded by a huge halo of bubble wrap in a box that’s like 18x18x18. That’s so it doesn’t de-magnetize any of the equipment at Fed Ex. Magnets are measured by how many pounds they can hold. This one was a 320-pound magnet that you could hold up two people with one tiny little magnet. So, we took a broom pole and taped it with packing tape on the end. Then we went down to the alleys. We parked the car on Cordova near Oppenheimer Park, we put on gloves and dressed very scientifically and brought buckets and everything. There were surprisingly few needles there. I used to live at the corner of Powell and Columbia for a few years and I just know that there are gazillions of these things. There was all sorts of cans of Boost or Ensure or meal replacement type things. It’s really weird poetry. Junkies are the last people in our culture who still write on paper. They just crank it out and it’s everywhere. So we saved a lot of that. We began to notice that every time you’d smell piss you’d also find needles. Because the exact amount of privacy it takes to take a leak it takes to shoot up. The further we got away from the car, the more needles we’d find until about three blocks away we came back to the snowdrifts of needles that I remember from living down there. Then it was just like an embarrassment of riches. I filled up a bucket and then we got back to the car and realize we parked in front of the needle exchange, which is why there were no needles there. So what we also figured out is if you’re a junkie and you’re two blocks away from a needle exchange you’re all ‘Yeah I’ll go get a new needle’ but if it’s three or four block way it’s like ‘Naw.’ So for them work mathematically you have to have one every four blocks or else I don’t think you’ll fix the problem. That’s why I like doing art projects, because you find out all this accidental shit along the way that you never would have learned otherwise. Nerve: Well, I have a gift for you. [This is where I presented him with the used needle] Oh that’s so thoughtful. Where did you find it? Nerve: In the lane on Powell and Carrall next to the East Indian restaurant underneath a dumpster. Oh that place is a goldmine. I remember that alley... I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

makes sense. But this movie is scripted. It was scripted. I think the funniest parts of the movie are the parts where I’m just yakking. But it’s not that kind of documentary, so c’est la vie. Nerve: How did you like adapting your work? Nerve: But should we talk about the movie? Oh, I didn’t adapt it. I just showed up and read Yeah, they’ll get pissed off if we don’t. If my lines. They did all the work. I just showed they come in here and we’re talking about up and was probably a pain in the butt to deal Helvetica... with. I don’t like cameras and that brings out Nerve: So from the books of yours that I’ve all my weird phobias. Freaky shit. They did all read and talking to my friends I’ve always the work. Everything. It was all them and I get gathered that you’re a private man. credit for it. It’s like, “Sick, sorry Robin.” Not really. I’m not even sure anymore. Maybe I Nerve: You seem to enjoy collecting tacky am I just think I’m not. I don’t know. My policy touristy cultural artifacts. has always been there are people in my life No, not really tacky. They’re things that you who have asked me not to talk about them. never quite realize that unify, but they actually And there are some people who don’t mind. do. I just saw the poster today for the first My parents don’t mind so that’s why they’re time with the stubby on the loonie. That’s in the movie. Whereas you don’t see my little fantastic. brother. So what’s your question? Nerve: Do you think it’s safe to call you an Nerve: Well why did you want to do this? intellectual? Because when you’re reading a book No, cuz I never got a degree. Only a diploma. it’s supposed to be a quiet conversation, I have a diploma in sculpture. It’s like having a the author’s voice whispering over you diploma in finger painting. shoulder. But with this movie you’re there Nerve: Well, you’ve written more books and you’re in front of the camera. than I’ve read since I finished school four They had to talk me into it. I don’t like getting years ago so I’m going to call you an photographed. I love great pictures of me, who intellectual. doesn’t? Great pictures of yourself, rather, Okay. whoever you are. The actual process of having Nerve: Do you think being a patriotic that lens, it just really fucks me up. I really intellectual is a contradiction? Because you don’t like it. It’s been 15 years now and I’m think of being patriotic and you associate never going to like it. it with jingoism, which is lowbrow. Nerve: Maybe that’s why I say I think There’s a long form answer to that which is you’re private because I don’t see that in the 60s when Canada broke away from its many pictures of you floating around. British colonial roots, there was this ten-year I love to have great pictures of me floating period that was financed with heaps of money. around but it means having the brown-black I say this is the movie, if it says Canada, here’s thing in your face and it just really fucks me up. a million bucks. Then the money ran out in the And also, digital cameras at book signings… 80s. For two no one explored what happened and afterwards people take your picture. in the 20 years after the money ran out. In Digital cameras, those flashes on those fuckers that 20 years you had a lot of strange and are just brutal. unexpected things, like the stubby bottle, Kraft Nerve: And there you are with red eyes all products, and bad game shows. Who wants to over the Internet the next day. be a jingoist? Not me. It was nice for me to You get three in a row and you get a headache identify myself with these things but also to and can’t see properly. Now, I have to say no develop something that unifies. How old are because frankly I don’t want the headache and you? I want to be able to see for the rest of the Nerve:Twenty-six. night. That can come across as being sort of… You might be too young. But we were really you know. It’s a strange thing. For me to be in hard on ourselves. We could only ever define the documentary like that, it was really hard ourselves as being non-U.S. Now, you don’t for me. I did it cuz I trusted Rob and Robin. even hear that anymore. We define ourselves When you’re doing anything creative especially in terms of who we are and what we do and with film and theatre you have to trust them what we think and feel and what we’ve done. completely or not at all. You That is just a galactic shift We began to can’t trust them 62 percent. that I don’t think anyone, Nerve: Did you enjoy the in the late 80s notice that every especially collaborative process? or early 90s, would ever Because you think of have imagined happening. time you’d smell books as just one guy. I was raised in the late piss you’d also find 70s to believe that by Film is small “c” corporate or communal. So many we’d be a state. I needles. Because 2006, people are involved. With was also raised to believe books I can do exactly what the exact amount that by 2006 there would I want to do, exactly the way be no birds left on the of privacy it takes earth and that the oceans I want to do it and I have veto power. It’s great. I didn’t would all be tar. That never to take a leak it have that in this project. I happened either. It sounds could just say whatever I takes to shoot up. like so dumb and selfhad to say. Also, Rob Cohen reflective, but the thing [the film’s producer] he’s a dialectician so with the future is it always surprises you. he coached me. The way we’re talking right Nerve: Why aren’t there more Douglas now, this is the way I really talk. Of course, I Coupland movies? talk completely different in the documentary. There is one, Everything’s Gone Green, which is Rob, painfully, line by line made me get it at Cannes. right. So, that I don’t like, and I hope that’s not Nerve: Are you going to Cannes? disrespectful. I’m not going to go. I don’t like going to Nerve:That’s what I like about your continental Europe. I’m working on two writing. It seems very unscripted… if that projects, but books are what I do. n

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CONTENTS

DARKWATCH: B.A. LOGO

Shreditorial: Krooks and Koalitions Krooked Kronicles The much-awaited new Krooked video premiered at antisocial May 14th. It’s a mustown vid featuring Mark Gonzales, Cancer Dan Drehobl,Van Wastell and Bobby Worrest among others. They were in town for the first stop of their video tour. The Gonz has a wide fan base - young to old, groms to gromma and grompa were all out representing. Sticker toss in full effect, highlight was sticker slapping for height in the back parking area. We pretended to be all cool about being in the same room as Gonz and Danny frickin’ Way, and Skatespot

Darkwatch Developer: High Moon Studios, Inc. Publisher: Capcom USA, Inc. This is a cowboys & Indians first person shooter… except that you’re a vampire cowboy fighting un-dead Indians and a shitload of zombie monsters. You control Jericho Cross, a train-robbing outlaw. Things start off with you robbing a train that belongs to a group called Darkwatch (a society that’s been fighting vampires since the dawn of time) and while robbing the train you blow up what you think is a safe but is actually a containment cell for some ultimate bad guy thing. He bites you and escapes. For the rest of the game you’re playing catch up as you try to kill him before you become a full-on vampire. As the plot progresses, you chase the demon through various western themed levels and unlock your vampire powers. Darkwatch is a co-op game. With fewer titles being released with a co-op format, finding one that is actually any good is getting hard. Like drinking, video games can only be considered a problem if you are doing it by your self and not in the company of friends. With a co-op game, you do not have to worry about becoming a soul-less hermit because there is always at least one friend there with you… even if they do take all the fucking sniper rifle ammo. This game is not realistic - which is awesome. I’m tired of the infuriating recoil often associated with period piece shooters. The guns in this game can hold their own and don’t fire as badly as they would if they were true to the era. That said, I guess if you had an unlimited amount of funds and engineers, like I presume the Darkwatch would, it’s conceivable that these guns could have been produced. Except the rail rocket launcher… that’s just

ridiculous, but you can’t really have a badass shooter without a rocket launcher so I’m willing to forgive High Moon Studios for that one. 24: the game Developer: SCEE Cambridge Studios Publisher: 2k Games This game is obviously based on the TV show. The storyline takes place between seasons 3 and 4 as Jack Bauer tries to solve the mystery of the failed Palmer Assassination. The box boasts elements of a shooter, a puzzle/ problem solving and driving game. The shooting aspect is pretty much identical to an old game for PS called Syphon Filter (a ¾ over the shoulder view with target lockon) and it’s pretty easy to fill the bad guys full of holes. There’s no lack of weapons in this game, but it doesn’t really matter because they’re pretty much the same within each weapon class (as in all the submachine guns seem to be similar). The puzzle solving in this game is better than average and you basically just use it to get into doors and repair your computers that always seem to be getting destroyed. A bonus part to this game is you can listen to techno music from the mid nineties and scream “Hack the Planet” as you break into the bad guy’s mainframe. The driving in this game is absolutely atrocious. I don’t know what knob decided that driving cars at 40mph would be exciting, because it isn’t. The cars drive so slow that you’ll just become infuriated and smash your controller to pieces before you ever “ditch the tail.” Basic rundown: this game is a mix of 3 sub par games that doesn’t amount to much. Do yourself a favour, stick to watching the show. -Dale De Ruiter

24:THE GAME Cisco, smith grind, photo: Jeff Cole photog Jeff Cole walked out with an original Gonz drawing on a shirt. I guess it was one of those video days. Go Skateboarding Day June 21st is Go Skateboarding Day, organized across the world by Emerica’s Wild In The Streets. Started as a way to promote skateboarding in the street of NYC in 2004, and continued in Philadelphia in 2005 in an attempt to bring awareness in the attempts to reclaim LOVE park, it has spread internationally. Some of Canada’s events are:Vancouver: The Nerve June 2006 Page 32

Emerica’s Canadian team will be in Van for the event at the Downtown Street Plaza - join up with Dave Nolan, Antoine Asselin, Glenn Suggit, Jamie Tancowny, Brad Sheppard, Alien, Jesse Booi, Mike Mckinley as the streets are reclaimed for skateboarding. Also, RDS skatepark will offer free skate sessions if the weather is sunny on June 21st and if it’s rainy it’ll only cost 5 dead Prime Ministers. In Montréal, 21 June 2006 @ 4:00 pm, meet up at Metro Atwater (Square Cabot) Corner of Atwater / Ste-Catherine for some shredding. Stops at downtown skate spots, ending up at Square Berri on corner of Berri / Ste-Catherine, and at 6pm, meet up for a BBQ at Underworld’s downtown shop. Tours and Videos Flip and Fury are Feast-ing their way across Canada making stops through Ontario and Quebec from June 6th and 11th. The new Digital video “Get Tricks or Die Tryin “ premiered at Denman Cinema in Vancouver May 26th with parts by Jani Laitala, Jordan Hoffart, Aaron Snyder, Bjorn Jonhston and Gailea Momolu. Good skating from the Digital crew, Rodrigo TX, Paul Machnau, Antwuan Dixon, Mark Appleyard, Ryan Gallant, Carlos De Andrade, Jereme Rogers and more. Change Skateboards presents the Change game of S.K.A.T.E. with 6 stops in eastern Canada and U.S.A. between June 30th and July 30th. Scam, uh that is, Slam City Jam will take place in Calgary this year, from August 25th to 27th. But check out the new Vancouver contest, A.N.T.I.S.L.A.M. put on by Perry Mlynowski and Bryan Ball, guaranteed to be more fun and less corporate, what skateboarding is really about. Date TBA, but expect for it to happen late August sometime. Am Getting Paid comp will be September 22-24th at South Parc in Montreal. Money makin’... Get some tasty “Cheese & Crackers” at almostawebsite.com and see some of the funnest and funniest mini ramp skating you’ve ever seen, with Daewon Song and Chris Haslam. Special bonus points for using William Shatner’s “Has-been” as background music. This footage is short but awesome - it has more inventiveness in 30 seconds than you usually see in a full video. RDS The last Wednesday night “old guy” session of the season will be May 31st - until fall that is. So get your last old geezer skate on. And look out for the third “Skateover Not a Makeover”, the girls skate day at RDS, coming soon. Summer Skate Camps are back, running every week of July and August, $249/week. Summer Camps include Lessons, Lunch provided on Wednesday, go see a movie at silvercity on Friday. Not included are Liza Minelli records, feather boas or leather chaps. Oh it’s not that sort of camp? Sorry. -D-Rock and Miss Kim. email us at downspace@telus.net .

CONTENTS

Grievous Angel: An Intimate Biography of Gram Parsons By Jessica Hundley and Polly Parsons Thunder’s Mouth Press As the Gram Parsons industry grows, the returns have tended to diminish. Of course, 10 years ago, all you really had was the Ben Fong-Torres biography Hickory Wind and a scrapbook assembled by Sid Griffin. The first is dry enough to be a fire hazard, but still covers everything you need to know, and the second is a real good time if you’re already a fan. Since then we’ve had lots of cd anthologies, a few more books, an overdose of tribute concerts, a so-so documentary (Fallen Angel – out on DVD this month), and the stoner road movie Grand Theft Parsons, which attempts to make a comedy out of the cosmic cowboy’s death at 26. That curiosity notwithstanding, most hardcore Parsons fans have already completed their journey. There’s only so much to know about the man. Parsons’ only child Polly – who was seven years old when her father expired at the Joshua Tree Inn with ice-cubes in his butt – has co-authored this latest entry in the ongoing project to leave no turn un-stoned. Does it

tell us anything new? Yes it does, in some of its finer details. Personally, I was shocked to learn that Parsons was 15 when he started playing with his alcoholic mother’s stash of prescription pills. Grievous Angel also gets to the bottom of his aborted project with Merle Haggard; what happened is even crazier than I ever suspected. There are also some great pictures – especially the ones taken during the making of a hippy UFO movie called Saturation 70 in the California desert – plus some fascinating pages from Parson’s personal notebook, complete with song ideas, the lyrics for a verse from “Ooh Las Vegas” that didn’t make the final cut, and other comic-book guy minutiae. There are variable interviews (clumsily) spattered across its 250 or so pages, with the likes of Steve Earle, Devendra Banhart, Connor Oberst, Ben Lee, Keith Richards, Jonathan Richman, Emmylou Harris, and an uncomfortable Q&A between Polly and Margaret Fisher, who was there when Polly’s dad took one hit of morphine too many, and who fruitlessly administered those ice cubes… Polly Parsons is a very sweet lady who has struggled to overcome the same gothic family curse that took her dad, and as such, the attempt to flesh out Gram’s interior life – if a little ripe at first – takes on some real gravity towards the end, especially as the authors commendably tackle the likely fact that Gram knew he was a major fuck-up, and was embarrassed by it. In trying to demystify the Parsons appeal, it’s interesting that the most lucid comment comes from John Doe, who points out that he’s not part of “The Cult of Gram Parsons”, but says, “He was always screwing up and always regretting it.” Weirdly, there’s one humongous mistake in an interview with the Thrills, which refers to a song called “The Last Horse.” Maybe I’m out of the loop, but that song just doesn’t exist, amigo. If I’m wrong, could somebody get me a copy, please? - Adrian Mack

Garden of the Perverse Edited by Sage Vivant and M. Christian Thunder’s Mouth Press Garden of the Perverse is a book of fairy tales for adults. In other words, it’s erotica that involves the fucking of animals and royalty. Being someone who reads little erotica in the first place, with the help of this book, I discovered that I prefer my sex sans “royal erections” and names such as Yagnor. It just doesn’t turn me on. For example, the following sentence starts off okay, but note the ending. “Still she wanted these lewd acts visited upon her body, and wanted to suck and taste and bite her husband’s body and manhood in similar fashion ere he thrust his member into her.” Though not arousing for me, the book tended to make me laugh out loud at the words that replaced female genitalia. A woman’s hymen is her “maidenhead,” her vagina is a “cunny,” and her pussy lips are “netherlips”. A cock, however, remains a cock. What amazed me most about the use of these ridiculous nouns was that they appeared in many of the stories, even though they were all written by different people. This confused me into thinking that I should have known about these silly monikers for my genitals. Another amusing part of the book was the story Fences. It’s about a prince who will become king. Here is an excerpt describing how his royal attire reveals the size of his dink.:“Prince Rupert, like all Fencer men, was prone to tearing his clothing. However, Prince Rupert eschewed the crotch-hugging hose the rest of the Fencers wore in favour of more blousy trousers. This, indeed, the royal advisors considered to be telling, because when

Prince Rupert’s exuberance got out of hand when he was wrestling, his pants just tore at his knees or up the back, rather than in front where his cock and balls would fall out – a rather frequent occurrence for all other Fencer men, who of course could not help it, being endowed the way true Fencer men were.” Other plotlines include an ogress who enjoys having the ugliness beaten out of her with a belt, a girl who’s fucked in the ear and can then converse with men’s penises, a panther fucker, a bird fucker and the never to be forgotten unicorn fucker. Use this book as a doorstop, or whip it out at a party to entertain guests with citations such as this: “So you read my thoughts as I do yours,” the unicorn said tenderly. “I have chosen well. The spell is beginning to work. Now you must stroke my shaft.” - J. Dives

CONTENTS

The Man That Matters By Jason Ainsworth

Feminism is Ass-Backwards.

know this is a free magazine, and it’s stupid to moan and whine about things printed in a free magazine, because you get what you pay for. That’s the way God, a man, intended. But when I read the article about FUCKING FEMINISM in last month’s awful issue, I was awful mad. Why the hell is the Nerve running articles about feminism anyway? Every FUCKING newspaper and magazine in the western world runs articles on feminism, or “Women-centered” gibberish in every FUCKING issue! Women are generally awful cooks who use too much garlic. Women are good at cleaning things. Also they can be nurses. These are bad times, and I didn’t like the article where she bitched and complained and whined and snarled about girls who are “Punk”, whatever that means, getting naked for mildly pornographic websites, like the ones I know you go and visit. This is apparently a bad thing. These girls are betraying what their foremothers fought for. The right to work like slaves for minimum wage. There’s not enough work to go around. So let’s DOUBLE the size of the fucking want them a fuck of a lot more than a stupid work force, completely ignoring the develjob. Men are not purposely standing in your opment of machinery and computers and way, ladies. We’re trying to make money. It’s immigrants and the fact that terrible foreign survival, not discrimination. countries where everyone’s a slave are happy Apparently, women make 30 percent less to take western money for shoddy low quality than men. Well, then, at my job I’m 30 percent slave labour. And then why not look baffled, underpaid. Look, the reason why this damn ladies, and blame the men, when you realize figure comes up everyfuckingtime some jourlife now sucks and you hate it. Fuck, we men nalist wants to whine about the problem of warned you work sucks. There were lots of wage inconsistency is simple: waitress, whores and such females, back 1. A small percentage in the old days, who the female labour Also, I think men in porn of pointed out that work force isn’t working at is hard and not much any one time because videos should be paid good. Women were they have babies. Even more than the ladies better off in the old if you only take a days. Men were way off for childbirth, because it is hard to keep week fucking better off in you psycho, it still afthe old days. I don’t an erection at the best fects the figures. care about the blacks. of times, let alone with a 2. Most of the reBack in the sixties a gaggle of spoiled rich ally high paying jobs camera there... girls decided that they require mathematics. wanted to run the Mathematics are hard businesses that their because they require brothers were inheriting. They wanted power. intense concentration. Women are bad at To become empowered. That’s all feminism concentrating, hence “multitasking” the worst was, greed and arrogance plus money. And word in the English language. One that never birth control pills, which of course were existed until women started writing resumes. invented by men, just like every other fucking It’s interesting how many rich girls go on to be thing that works. lawyers, the only profession that requires no To BECOME EMPOWERED.You can’t mathematics. empower anybody. If you want power, you must take it. If you can’t take it, you can’t be You ladies were better off in the old days. powerful. It’s so simple! You were happier. Frieda Kahlo was a bad Look, punk rock is just fashion. There is no artist. Her husband was better. Not by much, underlying philosophy. If I pull five punk rock but he was better. Remember that. As soon as records off the shelf, I’m going to see bands enough men get really, really sick of feminism, with revoltingly variable political positions. GG that is the moment feminism will end. I don’t Allin was no feminist. Annabella Lwin doesn’t mean to beat up on ladies here, but I’m sick of seem all that feminist either. Or maybe she is. it. I like naked ladies better than ladies in busiBut she’s New Wave. ness suits. Just like every other man on earth. It’s okay if the cute punk rock chicks want If we lose to the Muslims, ladies, you’ll know to take off their clothes and make money. It’s what trouble really is. So stop fucking whining. better than working. Most women are exhiAlso, I think men in porn videos should be bitionists anyway, and all women like money. paid more than the ladies because it is hard to Even punk rock chicks like money, and there’s keep an erection at the best of times, let alone no point lying about it. with a camera there, and all the girl has to It’s the way women bitch about their do is lie there and make unconvincing noises careers that revolts me the most. Most of and nowadays there are hundreds of stupid you ladies are eventually going to get preggirls willing to do porns, and that’s just basic nant, because you want to have children.You economics. And I don’t care. n The Nerve June 2006 Page 33

CONTENTS

By Dan Scum Across 1. Milk and Beef source 4. Mindless Self Indulgence 7. Former Grand Banks staple 10. Gentleman’s escort 11. _____agram (9-side star inscribed in a circle) 13. They replaced Revy’s 15. Par example 16. According to the Dixie Chicks,”____ had to die.” (not George W. Bush) 17. Carr or Dickenson (or my sweet li’l Absalom. Hi baby!) 18. They wrote “Elvira” 21. _____ and void 22. Thicke and Jackson 23. Christian name of the man in black 26. Which name “Christian” refers to 28. Nazi submarine 29. Evil John Wayne 30. Taxi 33. Dr. of child’s books, mild schnooks, and gobblety-gooks 34. Crystallized di-hydrogen oxide 35. Common misspelling of “accost” 37. Vic Secret model ____a Banks 38. Barney’s pal 39. “Get yer kicks on ____ 66!” 40. Eateries with parrots 42. Braided Willie 43. La _____ de Bains 45. Where Johnny Cash shot a man, “just to watch him die.” 46. He “couldn’t stand the weather” that his plane went down in (R.I.P.) 52. Lady of Gypsy Kings song (bem! bem! bem!) 53. College sports’ org. 54. In some parts of USA it’s pronounced “ruff” 55. Zut _____, je n’suis pas une cloune! 56. Send 57. Nightmare street trees 58. Tikkannen of the dynasty Oilers 59. A corollary used in triangulation 60. An Eisenhower Down 1. A Roseanne 2. Garfield’s buddy 3. Judd of Nashville and Ryder of Shoplifting 4. Humbly 5. Expression on an angry dog’s face

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6. IESVS NAZARENVS REX IVDÆORVM 7. Fighting to a soldier 8. Family of chives and leeks 9. Golfer John and comedian John 10. Muscle of the back, briefly 12. Olde old 13. Gaelic folk songs 14. System file ext. 19. Mother’s sisters 20. Paedophile rocker Glitter 23. Fair handed 24. Follow orders 25. It sometimes has 22 minutes 26. Reality show _____ of Death 27. Frosted as in a cake 29. A young 10 Across 30. Doubled, it’s a type of pasta 31. Pertaining 32. Bingo number/letter call 35. Maple Leaf Gardens e.g. 36. Pigmented 38. Without cost 40. Mistress of the dark (with the ga-gaguns!) 41. Nom de Plume 42. U.S. State with legal prostitution 43. Expired bread 44. Bubbly chocolate bars 45. Meg and Elizabeth 46. Spinal Muscular Atrophy 47. It stands for “registered nurses” 48. Sometimes they’re high 49. Au of the periodic table of the elements 50. ____ on the range 51. Bounced cheque

Last Issue’s Answers

xerox color

choice of stocks • volume discounts

4x6 12PT postcardz @10¢ 12x18 posterz @50¢ f

(one sided price) plus $10 set-up/file check all $CA or $US w’ free ship’g to WA+OR

digital & offset: cardz • posterz • stickerz • ticketz • brochurz • catalogz The Nerve June 2006 Page 35