I want Robin’s blog entry from yesterday to be mine. Maybe he could rewrite it from my perspective? For those of you who aren’t going to read Robin’s entry, he reminiscess about the time, seven years ago to the day almost, that he, Doug Anderson and myself finished recording and mixing down our first and only album together as North and the Sea.
Robin has kind words for me, not for my drumming abilities, but for the musical chemistry that we share. Hey, I’m the first to admit that I’m no Lance Schibler, or Ben Seibel — I’m more of a Ringo Starr, but I make more mistakes. I was thinking the other day while listening to CBC Radio’s 50 Tracks that it would be fun (I guess I wasn’t thinking it through enough) to be the band leader for Mike Hurlburt’s fringe talk show so that Robin and I could play the main riff of Billy Jean together.
I’ve been fortunate to be able to play music (well, drums mostly) with a bunch of people, often overlapping in a bunch of bands. Way back in time, it was Robin, Ron and me (on guitar) during that summer between highschool and university in — what did we call ourselves? Something that rhymes with Fat Chance? Playing Power, Oh Canada Dance and That Meaningless Love Song. Haul out those tapes and make mp3′s of them!
Then Robin and I recorded a few of my songs on the 2+2 and the four track, like Bears in the Woods (which deserves a webpage of it’s own), Cross Eyed Stare and who can forget I Hope All The Good Ones Aren’t Gone. Boy, we were really happy with how that one sounded in the Monarch.
Of course, it was with The Transparencies that I first felt like I was in a real band. Robin, Richard, Shawn and I played together — mostly out at Dorion and often joined and replaced with Mike and Chris and Lance and others. The Transparencies were also the unofficial Richard Pepper and the Band band.
North and the Sea came next and is the band that I most felt could make it, but ambition was never my strong suit and Bible school got in the way and recording, while rewarding, took some of the fun out of NatS for me. But without a doubt the best time I ever had playing a show with a band was with Robin and Doug opening for The Dustkickers on a snowy February evening. I think I enjoy the tape from that show even more than New Material Only.
At Bible school Doug and I were Reliable Toasters, though if anyone cared to notice, I was Doug’s Garfunkel — and was delighted to be so. I wish I could have been part of the New Reliable Toasters Band that took part in the New Union battle of the bands, but I don’t think they would have gone as far if I was behind the kit.
Doug and I were drafted into what was supposed to be Mark Owens’ worship team, that was demoted to a Christian service team, that mutated into Stoned and Left for Dead with Curtis and Chris. Our sweaty recording sessions in the sweltering heatwave that was Minneapolis, July 1999 were a tonne of fun and probably the best closure to my Bible school experience that I could have had. We even got a CD out of the whole effort.
I also played with Mark Owens on the worship team at Central Community Circus — I mean Church. Doug and Curtis occassionally sat in with us too. But that was a paying gig, so it hardly counts as being in a band. All real bands have to struggle and don’t get paid.
When I returned to Thunder Bay at the turn of the millenium (minus one year) I picked up in The Transparencies with Robin, Richard and Lance. I also started playing with Tom at church and sort of drafted him into playing gigs at the Outpost and other venues with whatever the band was being called for a given performance: King Jimmy and the Sixteen Eleven’s, The Hockey Band, whatever. I also did some recording with (and church playing) with Brian during that time and Robin brought in Doug and Kent and others (maybe?) to record other tracks on his unreleased CD.
There was also the SNL band lead by the fearless (though maybe she should have) J. Barker and Eamon. Those were great excercises in seeing how far they could be musically abused before they just ended the practice. Of course, Eamon always joined in on the trouble making leaving poor Barker to deal with us on her own.
Hmm, what a rich and varied musical experience I’ve had. Thank you to everyone who’s let me play along with them. Hopefuly in the future I’ll get to play again with you and others. I think I was given a glimpse of the future when I went to a Lost Dogs concert a couple months ago. The opening act was made of three guys in their late fourties and a teenage boy — maybe someone’s son? They played and wrote their own stuff and they enjoyed it, even if no one else did. I was thinking, “Hey, that big guy reminds me of Robin. And I could be playing that old worn out kit. I wonder who’s son that is?”
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