Jeremy Brendan -- My Life as a Reptile

Mudhoney Eats Babies

2008-07-11T03:33:00.000-04:00

The greedy grocer put pills in the pile
his jowls were wet
and the lights were awkward
Many stars made witness
Love was something invisible

Green clean Josephine wandered through piss alley
with a sack sewn from hemp
and salmon-skin eyes
She wanted ways to face the day
Her tiny stomach needed packing

Josephine climbed in the blue ogre
She kicked a rat and squished it ochre
Her eyes turned to summer
She saw the bread and potatoes
A plate was prepared

The grocer still hates overbites
His jowls will never jump
The lights don't love anyone
The stars are still ambivalent
But Josephine turned into sky skin

Poison the well
Get out of my dumpster
Kill your friends
Maim your neighbours
Scum

Moral Implications of Chasing the White Mouse

2008-05-31T01:23:00.001-04:00

I was staring at the little white mouse while kneeling in my rarely-mopped bathroom. I flicked the baggie with my index finger and a question jet-skied across my slopes; how did this get here?

It was grown in the hills of Colombia by someone who was likely toting a semi or fully automatic weapon. The FARC is a noted supplier of the North American drug market but I have read articles (on BBC?) that their paramilitary counterparts (affiliated with the US-backed Colombian government) also have their place in the drugriculture scene. After being chopped and ground up into tiny slimy yellow grains, it was packed into blocks and carried north through sweaty verdant jungles by stoic foot soldiers. Do they use boats? Planes? I have even heard reports of submarines being used to get drugs onto the American continent.

Rather than digressing on the minutia of the drug smuggling process, I would rather bring the moral case to the forefront. I am an unabashed drug consumer and have always felt that as long as a substance's positive effects outweighed its negatives, it should be legally available. I felt safe in my glistening palace of rebel dream logic and sure that I was on the moral high ground.

I fear that I was wrong.

Because the war on drugs imprisons people that get caught smuggling drugs for me, I am a bad person. With each purchase, I am buying the lives of countless mules, soldiers, police officers, innocent civilians, and even drug lords (they're people too!).

Perhaps my moral compass has finally pointed towards something that fits with a secular humanist viewpoint. Instead of reveling in my savage cityscape until all hours of the night, the morally correct thing to do would be to avoid the stuff altogether unless I can talk to the grower personally.

Obama Blues

2008-04-15T01:48:00.000-04:00

Is this really how things are going to turn out south of the border? America has been given a candidate of substance who writes his own speeches, who speaks from his heart (no matter how calculated his positions may be, he still sounds like he means what he says), and who could use his immense rhetorical powers to beat the Republicans... and he is being stymied by a slip of the tongue, an incorrect portrayal of middle America that apparently "disturbs" the populace.

Everyone says things that they regret. Most politicians offend someone just by getting out of bed with a check from a particular lobbyist in their hands. Obama committed the sin of being too "truthy" for the media, his opponents, and hence the entire population of Pennsylvania.

Did anyone ask the people of PA about their opinion on this matter? I haven't seen a lot of print devoted to this burning question. Most has been flaming crud in projectile form being tossed at Obama because he dared to say that people who lose their jobs turn to religion or other red-meat issues because of their frustration with the failure of the political process to protect them.

I am not specifically against Hillary Clinton per se but I certainly have my reservations about her, mainly because of her uncanny resemblance to another candidate from days gone by who went by the name of John Kerry: another monied elite with nuanced opinions but no cogent way to present ones point; another Washington-fed politician who will say anything to keep one's post; another part of the system, assuring us all that he/she will be the ONE to fix everything and make the world spin properly again.

If Obama is seriously damaged by this minor gaffe and loses the Democratic nomination, expect John McCain to coast to a relatively easy victory in the general election in the fall. Hillary is a great person & has some good ideas but she has been co-opted by the entrenched corporate & political interests to really change things. Obama is our only hope, and he is being targeted by both camps.

The question is, should one phrase plucked from a campaign of rock-solid ideas derail Obama's whole campaign? Let the American voter be the judge. We all know that they follow the news & form independent opinions & are worthy to analyze the myriad political maneuvers that go on from day to day.

Obama in 2008, one hundred percent. I don't get to vote (being a Canadian) but if I could, I would have voted for Kucinich (Obama was my safety).

Love & Brotherhood to you all,
Philip
Bleeding Heart Liberal Whose Heart is Actually Not Bleeding (It's in great shape!)

Van Morrison @ LeBreton Flats, Ottawa ON

2007-07-05T09:09:00.000-04:00

I awoke Wednesday morning to the sight of my parents looming over my bed. "Get up," my father said curtly. "We're going to see Van Morrison." They got into my Parc Avenue apartment without assistance thanks to my roommates who are allergic to locking doors. I hopped into a phone booth, donned some dirty pants and a Telefauna t-shirt, and was ready to swoop down on Ottawa, city of bureaucrats and power-wielders. After a few brief stops and a lunch at Pizza Donini, we were en route to what promised to be a great rock show.

After unloading their luggage at the Quality Inn on Rideau Street, we took a bus towards LeBreton Flats, a large field near the water where the Ottawa Blues Festival is being held this year.

On the way, I struck up a conversation with a long-haired street person who was also going to the concert. He had been entertaining the entire bus with his personal take on "Brown Eyed Girl" only minutes earlier. I asked him if he was looking forward to the show. "I don't have the fifty bucks," he said. "But I'm going to be up on the hill sitting and listening. If it rains, I'll be standing." I advised him to find a hole in the fence to gate-crash. "Oh no," he said quickly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

Before long, we were at the site and joined one of two enormous lines of people waiting to be admitted to the show. Ottawaians are always prepared, like Boy Scouts, and most of them brandished a ticket bought in advance. The lines moved relatively slowly but we were in after 30 minutes or so.

Standing about 100 feet from the stage, I surveyed the scene. It was certainly a good turnout. By my rough count, at least 30 thousand people showed up to stand in circles and talk about office politics (more on this later) while drinking the reasonably priced Molson Canadian ($5.50 per cup, which is less than I have seen on Ile-Jean-Drapeau in Montreal).

A prozac-blunted middle-aged blonde P.R. flack took the stage and began cooing at the crowd. "We've been waiting for him for over 42 years...Van MORRISON!" Of course, he didn't appear for several more minutes since he apparently begins all his shows at the scheduled time of 7:30 PM, not a minute sooner nor later.

As he & his band of seasoned professionals took the stage, the crowd cheered weakly and then resumed chatting. This irritated my parents, veteran hippy rock-and-roll troopers who had been at Isle of Wight to see Jimi Hendrix and up front in NYC to catch the Doors, and my usually pacifist father began to grumble. "I hope these people don't talk during the show."

Van's voice has gotten deeper in the past 4 decades, and as he wobbled through his opening number (which was a bluesy sort of bop), I remarked that he rarely used his higher register, leaving it to his 30-year old backup singers.

On the two video screens, you could see him in his white fedora, eyes glued shut, sipping from a water bottle between songs. He only said 6 words during the whole set as far as I can tell--and that was at the end of the show, ie. "Let's hear it for the band"--and I was disappointed that I had caught an artist of his calibre on autopilot.

As the set dragged on, my parents began to whisper that the crowd was ruining the show. Although we were by no means far back, it was plain to see that many of the people were treating the show as if it were a social schmooze-fest. Some weren't even facing the stage, preferring to talk to Judy from Accounting about her new 2008 Highlander while sipping from a $6 glass of red wine. "I want to hit the guys behind us," said my father, teeth clenched. My mom silenced him and tried to dance in this sea of talking squares.

When Van began singing "Into the Mystic", my current favourite from his back catalogue, my hopes bloomed for a spell. "Maybe he'll let loose," I thought. Instead, he limped through the song with all the ferocity of a pampered housecat, phoning it in like some post-alcoholic lounge singer. By this point, I realized that half of the problem was the rinky-dink sound system.

I've never organized a major music festival but I have been to several, including Maximum Blues in Carleton, PQ and Osheaga in Montreal. I've never been so disappointed with the sound levels before. Despite what Patrick "50 bucks will get you 4 stars" Langston said on the front page of the Ottawa Citizen, the music was barely audible through most of the crowd, although Van's vocals were clear and rose above the mix.

Why didn't someone from the mainstream press point this out? How much money has exchanged hands for someone to print a lie like this, courtesy of Langston from the Ottawa Citizen (italics mine):

"Clean and crisp from almost anywhere on the grounds, it was good enough that most fans said they didn't care that they could only see Morrison and his band by watching the two large, bright video screens looking out over the grassed rectangular site."

One bright point was the tight performance of Van's backing band. Though I had to strain to hear them at all, they were definately on time and faithful to his Celtic Soul and rhythm & blues stylings.

I am sure the folks at the front of the stage, ie. within spitting distance of Van's Gucci loafers, got to hear it but for the rest of us, all 29 thousand of us, this concert was a bust. Even mildly upbeat performances of "Brown Eyed Girl" and "Gloria" didn't silence the chattering fools, and as Van exited stage right at 9 PM with no encores, my father opined bitterly, "I'm never coming back to the Ottawa Blues Festival. It's lost its intimacy."

"Remember John Prine last year?" my mother said. "Now THAT was a show."

If you will do me the pleasure, allow me to use the rest of this screed to write an open blog post to Van Morrison.

~~~

Dearest Van,

Hello, Mystical Sailor. Your album "Moondance" from 1971 has become a core part of my musical history, bringing back Proustian levels of childhood memories with each listen. My parents practically raised me on your works. Up until today, I would consider myself a big fan of Van.

You should consider your options. If you are going to piss all over your legacy by putting on heartless, soulless soul performances at Big Ticket Festivals, then retire. Leave the stage to people who actually give a damn.

Yes, Van, I'm aware that you've been in the music business for decades. Why should you listen to me? What do I know? I'm an unwashed, mostly broke troubador with greasy hair and some drug problems. I don't even know my scales on guitar. I get bad gas on regular occasion. Still, I know that I want my music served hot, steaming hot, not bland and tasteless like a bag full of Rice Cakes.

How come people in your age group like Eric Clapton can still put their heart into it? I saw him at Corel Centre in the fall of '06 and he thundered his way through classics like "Layla" and "Cocaine" as if the Rock and Roll gods were holding a '45 to his temple. And don't blame the sobriety. Clapton has been clean and sober since his son fell out that window.

Point is, some people play music because they love it. You used to. What happened to that moony, pukey, bittersweet poet, that powerful little mountain of a man? Is your reservoir depleted? Are you punching a clock? I sincerely hope that this was just a fluke and not representative of all of your shows these days.

Let your spirit fly!
-JB

Philip Shearing invited you to the event "Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ ...

2007-05-21T00:17:00.001-04:00

Philip invited you to "Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ 1221 Crescent" on Friday, June 1 at 9:00pm.

Event: Chemical Swings, Kieran Blake & New California Republic @ 1221 Crescent
"Phil's 27th birthday shindig/boozefest/rock show"
What: Performance
Host: Philip Shearing
When: Friday, June 1 at 9:00pm
Where: 1221 Crescent Street Pub (Corner St-Catherine)

To see more details and RSVP, follow the link below:

http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=777670709&k=f29af87753

Now everyone can join Facebook, even if you couldn't before. To register, go to:
http://www.facebook.com/p.php?i=777670709&k=f29af87753&r

Thanks,
The Facebook Team

___________________
This e-mail may contain promotional materials. If you do not wish to receive future commercial mailings from Facebook, please click on the link below. Facebook's offices are located at 156 University Ave., Palo Alto, CA 94301.

http://www.facebook.com/o.php?u=667926361&k=da779f

Chemical Swings @ Foufounes Electriques - Friday, February 9th 2007 - 9PM - $5

2007-01-30T20:01:00.000-05:00

20 years

2006-12-29T05:52:00.000-05:00

We skirt the issues, clothe them in silk
and disregard the painted signs
You perch on kiss-yous, loaded with guilt
You turn the tainted blood to wine
I could become your ravenous joy
We'd make the town turn ox-blood red
Our children would build their own new toys
If we could smile outside our bed...

You are not god, you're not the prince
Evacuate the sunny beach
We've been the cod, our fins in splints
Emasculate the hungry leach
Engage our conscience 'till it's full
We've waited ages for your gall
It's time for real sailors to pull
because the sky's about to squall.

Paparazzi

2006-12-29T04:50:00.000-05:00

Phony barnyard photo-shoots,
sponsored by the lucky brands.
If the readers were astute,
they would incarcerate their hands.

We are not a pantomime.
People can still use their hearts.
Being famous ain't a crime.
Just keep the ass before the cart!

Hormone soup is ankle-deep,
those plastic grins turn to ice.
Smile to try to fight the sleep,
the maze is lost in all the mice.

Smile and make us think you love,
bring us herbs and tumbleweed.
Make us shame our only loves,
and lick our flesh to taste our needs.
~~~

The only clean mothafucka is Hollywood! Got some change for a brotha from anotha motha? Let me know how the real deal gets a feel, y'all.

My Return

2006-12-29T04:22:00.000-05:00

Ten thousand delving debutantes,
with spaghetti hair that glowed blood black
Expressed their deepest needs and wants,
while the dish-washer hung in the back.

His hands were wrinkled pink latrines,
the soap made them become bivouacs.
They slept on soapy miles of clean
Ate the whole diner in Chilliwack

I had the school before grade 2.
They forced me to behave askant.
My principal lost all his shoes,
We hid his camera at the dance.

~~~
Feed me critical chicken MacNuggets.

Perpetual Distractions

2006-12-02T05:24:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged in ages. I've been working hard at the Deaf Relay job, ordering pizzas and doing phone sex--it is hard to explain, you had to be there etc.--but I realize that I haven't cursed you with an entry in many moons.

The music thing is going well... recently, we've been promised recording time, provided sans contrat, assuming that we can afford to manufacture 500 CDs and sell them while paying back the financier. We also have a show pending at 1221 Crescent Street Pub, scheduled for New Years Eve...I guess that would be the 30th of December, or maybe the 31st ??? I am not calendar equipped at this moment (excluding the Windows thing and there is no way I am clicking a mouse during this typing extravaganza.)

Once my internet connection is resurrected (praise Ethernet) I will be posting a little more regularily. I am sure that my former readers have disowned me, left me for dead, and ejaculated on my grave. Such is how business goes. Understood. In the meantime, watch Stephen Colbert every weeknight and drink as much alcohol as you can without missing your rent deadline.

I love every single person that breathes on this mispelled planett.

After the Goldrush Pt. I

2006-07-18T05:13:00.000-04:00

I watch the jug of milk
and sit patiently as untold minions skim off the cream
Aphids are crawling in my hair
Singing top 40 tunes toodley-doo
but I rarely flinch

My castle is all bent stones and torn shrouds
I can't even muster a force of 10 men
Without an heir nor a queen
my meals are small and mere trifles
But I dream fermented grapes with great gusto

Plus... my inkblot venn diagrams are disappearing
I spend more time in line for wine
than I do spraying parapaint on the pixelboard
The echoes are unbearable
and my hands are twisted little wrecks

Can I still see healthy?
Do my toes turn blue next with rectangle keychains?
Is this jungle going to make me melt?
Does anyone still believe?

Flaming Lips on Youtube: Pure Joy

2006-05-23T16:51:00.000-04:00

I will never look at sushi as a harmless friend again!

Eight Thousand Apologies

2006-02-22T04:50:00.000-05:00

I have been negligent of late, leading some to believe that my life was in jeopardy/I had dropped out of contention for the least desirable scene-invader on the whole island of Montreal. Never fear! I am not only in the running... I am a whorish malcontent with too much time on his hands who's still begging to have your ear, if only for a brief, auto-erotic second.

First off, one of my recent exploits is interviewing The Cloud Room alongside my love of loves, Phyllis. We were most effective in our quest to: A) get them totally intoxicated, courtesy of Canadian Journalists; B) reach into the pits of their souls and steal their mojo, only to share it with the readers of a major publication somewhere. Looks like it will be Rage Magazine, unless it doesn't happen and we end up putting it in the Mirror or the Hour. I'm not expecting remuneration but they definately expect dedication.

I couldn't have done it without Phyllis (right- picture). She has quite the pen and she knows how to hurl questions at bands like hot pieces of metal. I am most lucky to be working with a hack of her caliber--we are meant to be together like the moon deserves the fortnight, two media-peas (press???) in an IPod. Some bands put up that cool barrier but people like Phyllis know how to dig underneath of it.

Secondly, my new band is on the go. I have a virtuosic drummer worth his his salt and a snazzy new bass player, plus a couple of other artists waiting in the wings. Besides looking for a lead guitarist, we're writing songs and playing the occasional show. I will keep you posted.

Lastly, I have a practice space/party space/venue available for rent. Please let me know if you are interested in having a spot that can hold about two to two hundred fifty people or if you need an affordable place to practice in Montreal, PQ (my number is 514-242-9840...call me anytime!). Cheers.

Canucks...get out and vote!

2006-01-23T10:31:00.000-05:00

unless you want this guy goose-stepping his way into office.

Thinking of voting Conservative, Canada?

2006-01-09T00:42:00.000-05:00

"However, let me just make two predictions. One is that Canada will be profoundly changed in the next five to ten years. I just don't believe the confederation we have today will look the same.

Whether Quebec separates or not, there are going to be very major changes.
The second thing is that Canada, in spite of its ongoing social democratic, welfare-state mentality, will continue to move to the right on fiscal, economic and social policy, with minor deviations, because that's the way the world is going.

When Canadians face the choice of either preserving their welfare state or adapting themselves to the world economy, they always, at times of crisis, choose to adapt themselves to the world economy."

-Stephen Harper speaking to American thinktank, Canadian Conservative leader, 1997

According to Mr. Harper, our great nation is in a perilous situation, despite the fact that the Liberals have gotten us budget surpluses for close to a decade:

"(Canada is) a Northern European welfare state in the worst sense of the
term, and very proud of it. Canadians make no connection between the fact that they are a Northern European welfare state and the fact that we have very low economic growth, a standard of living substantially lower than yours, a massive brain drain of young professionals to your country, and double the unemployment rate of the United States.

In terms of the unemployed, of which we have over a million-and-a-half, don't feel particularly bad for many of these people. They don't feel bad about it themselves, as long as they're receiving generous social assistance and unemployment insurance."

Do we really want this kook as our leader? America's recent experiments with neoconservativism should give us a hint. Admittedly, the Liberal Party ain't perfect, but at least they know how to balance the books and keep social spending at a reasonable level.

What are your thoughts on the election? Please comment below.

Then & Now

2005-11-29T08:02:00.000-05:00

(Click the links 'Then' & 'Now' or else the whole text is confusing!)

Then

&

now.

The former were a band of individuals who resisted an occupation that they disagreed with.

The latter are the same.

The former believed that their ties to the land went beyond the oppressive fist that tried to take what was theirs--in this case, taxes--and rose up to strike down the mercenaries that held them at bay with their guns and artillery.

So do the latter, only they seem to prefer roadside bombings and mortar attacks (along with rocket propelled grenades and AK-47's...it is the future, after all).

The former founded a nation that believed in freedom, prosperity, and the equality of man (as long as that man wasn't a woman, or black).

The latter are being oppressed by the great-great-great grandchildren of the former.

I'm inclined to believe that the insurgency in Iraq is doing a good thing--killing civilians aside, which I vehemently oppose--and even if I despise the idea of a fundamentalist Islamic state in Iraq, what do you expect when it is invaded by the Christian States of America? Are they all going to lie down and eat the body of Christ? It's not happening.

At least the Iraqis are fighting for their nation's freedom: freedom from control by foreign powers; freedom from economic manipulation by oil hungry tyrants; above all, freedom to choose their own form of sovereignty. Like the Minutemen over two hundred years before, the Iraqis will have their day, and America will close her bases in Baghdad and move to some other desert, likely to conquer more brown people to take their oil.

So it goes.

That's what happens when you watch a 1-hour Michael Moore speech. He does things to your head. (Ann Coulter already diagnosed me. I am definately a psychotic of some sort. Can somebody please send me some percoset?)

America, Land of the "Woefully Misinformed"

2005-10-27T19:56:00.000-04:00

"In December 1994, 57% of Americans had not heard of Newt Gingrich. In 1964, 62% of Americans believed the USSR was a member of NATO. Most Americans can't name any of their congressmen. Polls consistently show that a majority of Americans believe simultaneously that the federal government is too large and powerful, and that spending in almost all federal programs should be increased - that's a logical contradiction. Today, 70% do not know that a Medicare prescription drug benefit has been legislated, and 58% have heard 'very little' or 'nothing' about the USA Patriot Act. In 2000 only 57% of Americans knew that Gore was more liberal than Bush."

-Jason Sorens, PH.D.,Speech to SUNY-Fredonia Students & Faculty, October 21, 2005.

Statistics like these ones tend to make me shiver like the winds that blow on the coldest days of our fierce Canadian winters. I'm not saying that all Americans are as 'out of the loop' as the ones mentioned in these statistics, but that is precisely why things are going bad south of the 49th parallel lately--Katrina & Rita excluded, which were probably due to the oft-denied Global Warming that is causing weather patterns to become more chaotic--no, America is treading calmly towards becoming a corporation state, where the richest make the decisions and the poor hold up the ceiling of the house.

Democracy, or at least the strange hybrid we have turned it into, depends squarely upon the political involvement and ability to reason by most (if not all) of the citizens. When only the elite have the reins of power, they are bound to lead the rest of us astray.

What can be done to remind America that it is responsible for its own future? The populace must be reached somehow, not with attack ads or partisan pandering, but a genuine movement that will reach out to Americans of all walks of life and educate them about the political landscape.

If not, don't be surprised when China et al. begin to buy up your businesses, your land, and God-forbid, foreclose on the billions of dollars of debt owed to them for the past 5 years of excessive American spending. Also, you should definately learn how to speak Chinese, or even Japanese. The bosses will expect to be spoken to in their native language. The easy way out is teaching Americans how to vote (instead of staying home on voting day and letting extremists win)and teaching people about the laws that exist to protect their freedom and prosperity.

Bin Laden Didn't Blow Up the Projects

2005-10-26T17:27:00.000-04:00

Since I haven't been updating as of late, here is the best rapper on earth, Immortal Technique. Enjoy these lyrics and buy/download/steal this song if you can.

Peace & excuse the N word.

~~~

[Mos Def - talking]
Man, you hear this bullshit they be talkin'
Every day, man
It's like these motherfuckers is just like professional liars
YouknowwhatI'msayin? It's wild
Listen

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]
I pledge no allegiance, nigga fuck the president's speeches
I'm baptized by America and covered in leeches
The dirty water that bleaches your soul and your facial features
Drownin' you in propaganda that they spit through the speakers
And if you speak about the evil that the government does
The Patriot Act'll track you to the type of your blood
They try to frame you, and say you was tryna sell drugs
And throw a federal indictment on niggaz to show you love
This shit is run by fake Christians, fake politicians
Look at they mansions, then look at the conditions you live in
All they talk about is terrorism on television
They tell you to listen, but they don't really tell you they mission
They funded Al-Qaeda, and now they blame the Muslim religion
Even though Bin Laden, was a CIA tactician
They gave him billions of dollars, and they funded his purpose
Fahrenheit 9/11, that's just scratchin' the surface

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

[Verse 2 - Immortal Technique]
They say the rebels in Iraq still fight for Saddam
But that's bullshit, I'll show you why it's totally wrong
Cuz if another country invaded the hood tonight
It'd be warfare through Harlem, and Washington Heights
I wouldn't be fightin' for Bush or White America's dream
I'd be fightin' for my people's survival and self-esteem
I wouldn't fight for racist churches from the south, my nigga
I'd be fightin' to keep the occupation out, my nigga
You ever clock someone who talk shit, or look at you wrong?
Imagine if they shot at you, and was rapin' your moms
And of course Saddam Hussein had chemical weapons
We sold him that shit, after Ronald Reagan's election
Mercenary contractors fightin' a new era
Corporate military bankin' off the war on terror
They controllin' the ghetto, with the failed attack
Tryna distract the fact that they engineerin' the crack
So I'm strapped like Lee Malvo holdin' a sniper rifle
These bullets'll touch your kids, and I don't mean like Michael
Your body be sent to the morgue, stripped down and recycled
I fire on house niggaz that support you and like you
Cuz innocent people get murdered in the struggle daily
And poor people never get shit and struggle daily
This ain't no alien conspiracy theory, this shit is real
Written on the dollar underneath the Masonic seal

(I don't rap for dead presidents
I'd rather see the president dead
It's never been said but I set precedents)--[Eminem]

[Hook - Mos Def]
Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga

Bin Laden didn't blow up the projects
It was you, nigga
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]
Tell the truth, nigga
(Bush knocked down the towers)--[Jadakiss]

(Shady Records was 80 seconds away from the towers
Some cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours)-- [Eminem]

4 Excuses For My Haphazard Updates of Late

2005-09-27T14:01:00.000-04:00

Friends, women, countrymen...lend me your eyes.

I have been gone for many blue moons, only tossing rubbish and band promotion at you all instead of penning incendiary political criticism or interviews with Montreal's music illuminati. While some would attribute my lack of output to my lazy, id-feeding habits, I would argue that the following 4 excuses will get me off Scott-free.

Concordia University

The Dissonants

Recreational intoxicants

Interviews in the Concordia Link

Beaver

Panacea & The Dissonants @ 1221 Crescent Street Pub, Sat. Aug. 27th

2005-08-26T00:17:00.000-04:00

~~~

Missed the Aug. 20th gig? Alternately, if you were there but want another dose of noxious Dissonance, then, by all means, please come this Saturday! (Way too many commas in that last phrase but I digress.)

~~~

Panacea & The Dissonants
Aug. 27th, 2005
1221 Crescent Street Pub
Doors @ 8 PM
Free!

The Redscare, Rio Bent & the Dissonants @ 1221 Crescent Street Pub - Sat. Aug. 20th

2005-08-19T02:01:00.000-04:00

~~~

The Redscare, Rio Bent, & the Dissonants.
1221 Crescent Street Pub
Sat. Aug. 20th, 9 PM.
Free.

More info after the jump.

The Dissonants - "Temper's a Chord" - Video

2005-08-13T16:34:00.000-04:00

Recorded at Missy Bar on July 30th, this video features the Dissonants, Montreal's finest antipunk band. Raw and slightly jagged, their music is poppish enough to placate the masses but sublime enough to get off the critics. "Temper's a Chord" has a lot of energy and will restore vision to the blind, put arms back on lepers, and instill a deep sense of well-being in every living soul (and it chops a mean onion).

Watch "Temper's a Chord" on Google Video

~~~
For more songs & tour dates, visit The Dissonants on Myspace.com

Late night update

2005-08-06T08:04:00.000-04:00

Saw Shoot the Moon & Wolf Parade last night (Friday).

Will write a review after I sleep for at least 100 hours.

Also, expect a CD review of Silent Film Soundtrack's last LP.

I'm only human! Must sleep.

Natasha, The Dissonants, Silent Film Soundtrack @ Missy Bar - Saturday, July 30th, $5

2005-07-23T17:19:00.000-04:00

Sweaty, pasty summer heat got you down? Step into the cozy cavern known as Missy Bar on Saturday, July 30th and enjoy some free air conditioning and a kick-ass rock show. Featuring a boisterous line-up of Canuck indie bands, it will be a bounteous offering unto the rock gods. [Ed. Note: Jeremy, did anyone ever offer you a job as a flack? I know, you were kicked out of J-School, but maybe you're onto something here! At least you didn't use the word "seminal."]

First up will be Natasha, a razor-sharp post-rock outfit. Already getting some major attention from the local indie francophone set--their song "Esclavo del Rocanrol" is ranked 10th on the CISM 89.3 FM charts this week--they will definately bring some interesting sonic weapons to the table. (Oooh, I hope they bring a scythe!)

Next will be the band everyone loves to hate (before realizing that it was love all along and having furious, passionate make-up sex), The Dissonants. Fresh off a successful 3-show slate during the 2005 Infringement Festival, the Dissonants have promised to play several new songs that they've written in the past month. Not punk enough to hang out with Fat Mike but not rocker enough to do heroin, these unfortunately named cadavers-to-be always put on one hell of a show. They will Rise like yeast this Fall, or so I've been told.

The word on the street is that lead guitarist Armen is going to raffle off a guitar pedal he built with his own two hands, which is definately a first for the Montreal area. (Those crazy, crazy electrical engineers cannot be stopped!)

Rounding out the frenetic night will be Waterloo, Ontario's own Silent Film Soundtrack. With an Eastern Canadian tour ahead of them in August supporting their new release "diplomats & confidants", Silent Film Soundtrack will have Montreal's scenesters drooling on their Blackspots. SFS's sound is authentic and dreamy, not unlike their compatriots Broken Social Scene or even a mellower And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. With warm keys washing over intriguing guitar licks and their tight-as-a-tiger rhythm section, these guys are headlining for a reason.

A pre-music graf show starts at 7:00 PM and Missy's doors will open at 8:00 PM. The music will kick off at 9:00 o'clock sharp unless an STM bus crushes one of the bands into blood and guitar strings. My spidey sense tells me that there will only be space for about 100 people, so be early!

[Ed. Note: You can contact Philip Shearing at 514-242-9840 if you want to buy tickets in advance. Also, you can email thedissonants@gmail.com for tix or if you have any questions.]

Fall To Rise Hate The Dissonants

2005-07-05T19:58:00.000-04:00

During last month's Infringement Festival, The Dissonants played a gig at Quai Des Brumes with the mediocre goth-lite band Fall to Rise. Afterwards, while trolling the web for press about said gig, singer/guitarist Phil came across a Livejournal post that slagged his bandmates. It was posted by Tim, Fall To Rise's keyboardist.

Eternally loyal, Phil forwarded this information to Armen (lead guitarist) and Nikos (drummer), who immediately lept into action. After a quite lengthy flame-war, involving many of the band members from both sides, Tim banned all anonymous posts and accused the Dissonants of doing too many drugs. (He was right about the drugs, of course!)

In an attempt to end the "beef" and lessen the chances of a Montreal indie-band gang war, Phil wrote the following message to Fall To Rise:

Turning off commenting on your Livejournal, Tim?

That's it guys! I'm taking my ball, and I'm going home!

In other words, you could not win the battle of words so you had to
censor us all.

Dissonants 1, Tim's pride 0.

It sucks because I went out of my way to avoid conflict but your
persistent ignorance has soured our relationship. Please don't
threaten my bandmates (or me, for that matter). You're barking up the
wrong tree, puppy.

Peace,
Slightly Pissed off Phil
vox/guitar
thedissonants@gmail.com

In response to this vaguely pacific message, Tim wrote this epic email to the Dissonants email address. (The grammar/spelling errors are all authentic)

"NO THREADS , NO MORE GAMES, ALL PROMISES DON'T FUCK WITH ME, PHIL YOU WILL GET HURT, STOP DROP THIS NOW,"
-Tim
Keyboardist for Fall To Rise

Never one to listen to orders, Phil wrote this honourable missive, and awaits a response:

Tim:

Good to hear from you, old friend! How are things with you? Sorry to
hear that you've been reduced to threatening me, all in caps, via
email. I'm really scared of keyboardists!

I believe in peace.

If you want to hurt me, go right ahead. My friends won't forget it.

Oh yeah, and you can kill me but you'd just be the Mark David Chapman
to my John Lennon.

Peace, love, and brotherhood.

=Phil=

P.S. We should keep this up. It might get your band some visibility.
You can use all the press you can get. Hell, why not kill my whole
band simultaneously? I can see the headline now.

"Unknown Keyboardist Brutally Massacres Up-and-Coming Montreal Band
THE DISSONANTS"

Cheers.

Although Phil is a big fan of Jon (guitarist for Fall To Rise), and is quite good friends with Tim's twin brother Gordie, he is very alarmed at the testosterone level of the rest of Fall To Rise. It is amazing that two unknown bands can be at each other's throats over something so inconsequential as charging cover at a show (FTR did not want to charge cover while the Dissonants were charging a measly 5 bucks and split the proceeds with all 3 bands who performed that night).

This is like Tupac and Biggie all over again. Phil has vowed to ride or die, and Tim was busy polishing his Yamaha and hence was unavailable for comment.

The Pious Rapture is Upon Us!

2005-06-28T19:28:00.000-04:00

Know what really gets me down? Reading about fundamentalist nudniks who torment young people and try to force them to "straighten out". (Kudos to my sister for digging up an interesting news story!)

A 16-year old blogger named Zach from Tennesse was allegedly sent to "Love in Action", a group home/prison colony, by his sick, holy parents who are hoping to cure him of his "unhealthy" disease, ie. his homosexuality. Zach hasn't posted anything on his website since then. Small wonder: Internet use is prohibited. So is speaking, at least when you arrive at this cruel, bizarre Gitmo of a "rehabilitation program":

1. All new Refuge clients will be placed into Safekeeping for the initial two to three days of their program. A client on safekeeping may not communicate verbally, or by using hand gestures or eye contact, with any other clients, staff members, or his/her parents or guardians. In case of a practical need, Safekeeping clients may write down their question or request and show it to another client, staff member, or their parent or guardian. Writing may only be used when absolutely necessary. Parents and guardians must enforce their child's safekeeping status at home or in their temporary lodging.

Thou shalt Not Write:

10. Absolutely no journaling or keeping a diary outside of the MI process unless directed or approved by staff.

Even more alarming, this may have been plagiarized from George Orwell's 1984:

6. No television viewing, going to movies, or reading/watching/listening to secular media of any kind, anywhere within the client's and the parent's/guardian's control. This includes listening to classical or instrumental music that is not expressly Christian (Beethoven, Bach, etc. are not considered Christian). The only exception to the media policy is the weekly movie.

7. Refuge clients may watch one video/DVD per week that has been approved by staff via C.O.C. Movies submitted for approval must be rated G or PG. The parents/guardians are responsible for securing the video/DVD.

It won't be long before America becomes the Western equivalent of Saudi Arabia. I need a drink.

Secularism es muerto.
Secularisme est mort.
Secularism έχει πεθάνει.
Secularism has died.
Secularism is gestorven.
The rapture is upon us.

Don't Shoot The Messenger!

2005-06-24T19:15:00.000-04:00

I can say with absolute veracity that I've discovered the best band that you've never heard of yet. They are a Mount-Vesuvius, rawk-spewing bunch of hooligans who may someday conquer Canada as a whole, and their name is Dead Messenger.

Performing live at Jupiter Room this past Sunday, they were tight as a lambskin and the whole room was grooving and bopping. Coming across like a funky, punkish hybrid of Primus and old-school punk, they defy convention and can't be easily categorized or pigeonholed.

Check out their song "Naked Chickens" (with their omni-talented bass player Seb on vocals). Another good one is "What's in a number?" but it sounds much better live for some reason.

Discovering a band like Dead Messenger makes me count my lucky stars. I am walking amongst giants in this dirty metropolis, the best city in North America.

JB Cover of Elliott Smith's "St-Ide's Heaven"

2005-06-17T18:33:00.000-04:00

Please excuse the hiccups. This song is one of my favourites, although I do a butcher job of it in this recording! At least I think I got the lyrics right.

Censorship on C-Span

2005-06-16T17:47:00.000-04:00

Wow! Rep. George Sensenbrenner (R-WI) is a real bastard.

Speech is only free as long as your microphone is still plugged in. Otherwise, how will the viewers at home realize that their rights are being disembowled? Oh, right. Republicans control the House, the Senate, the Whitehouse, and they're working on the Judiciary. Makes a lot of sense.

You can find a clip here (C-Span 2) of the bizarre event (scroll to near the end of the video for when Mr. Sensenbrenner cuts the mics and walks out like he owns the place.

The Dissonants @ Missy Bar - Monday, June 13th.

2005-06-16T15:04:00.000-04:00

(From left to right: Armen, Phil, and Jeremy. Nikos can't be seen!)

Courtesy of Val Turbak. Thanks Val!

"Tale of my Teeth" by JB

2005-06-16T14:24:00.000-04:00

This is a short story.
~~~
Philip's teeth began to speak to each other, or rather the pink roots inside the teeth began to speak, and not speak in the literal sense, but with flows of blood which contained messages that would be shared by the whole mouth. "Gentlemen, it is time to face the grave danger that our fathers spoke of so long ago" said the front left tooth, one of the biggest in Philip's mouth. Front left was rectangular and often appeared in conversations with other mouths. He was an a figurehead; the ambassador, if you will. "Before they pushed their way to the freedom, breaking the brutal enslavement inflicted by the primitive gums, our fathers were nothing but roots beneath the surface. They synthesized enamel and fought for our liberty. Now, they have all fallen out, but we shall not forget them, condemned to their watery graves."

"Get to the point", said the bottom small tooth, second from Philip's left front tooth. "You're taking all day to tell us what we've been thinking all along...The Prophecy was right. The Wise Teeth would one day appear."

"Settle down, bottom second-from-left. I was only delivering an impromptu lesson on our glorious fallen fathers, the roots of our past. I got a little off track, I admit. Let us..."

Just then, the pushing came again. Primordial pressure, like the constant lurch of time, pushed inside the mouth. From the back rear teeth and pushing forward, the force was immovable, and the teeth began to shriek in confusion. "God! The Pain!" said the rear teeth on top. The flesh around them was red and battered, like the inside of raw salmon, stretched taut as the skin of a drum. They were pushing so close together that the gums all around them looked as if they would bleed at any minute. The crisis was nigh.

"Please! Ignore it. Block it out! Let the pain roll away, and stand firm. Don't let the Wise Teeth push us further together! The integrity of the mouth DEPENDS on it," said the top left, dominating the situation as usual. The pointy left front tooth snickered. "This guy makes everything sound like a Winston Churchill speech or something..." he commented. A laugh erupted through the whole mouth, with hundreds of messages floating through the veins happily.

"I propose a solution", said the usually silent front right tooth, the insider, who always hid behind the front left. He was a mysterious character with a mystical reputation. Many considered him the shaman of the mouth. "It is a hard one, but the only way that the Wise Teeth will settle with us peacefully. We have to push one of our own out."

A gasp pulsed all throughout the mouth. Even the enamel seemed to shake. Push someone out? That would mean death of the root and considerable pain for the enamel, which would probably float downstream to the ocean with common rock trash and seashells. Gone it would be from its rightful place within Philip's mouth, a position inherited since birth, after its father root had broken a hole to the surface and given him a place to exit the fleshy womb of the gums.

Second from-the-left-bottom-tooth voiced his disapproval with Top Right Front's radical idea. "It means elimination of the remaining symmetry of the mouth. When this mouth started, it was with the intentions of making a perfect half-moon shape, with equal space for each tooth and comfort for everyone, including the cheeks and gums. Granted, the way we were unable to control the growth of our enamel was unexpected. I wish that our fathers had left us a clue on how to ensure each tooth grew to the same size, but anyhow...we're in this mess. I think we have to find a way out of it, without causing one of our own to fall clear out!"

Many of the teeth agreed with his statement, but nearly all of them were scared to admit it. Most didn't want to stand out from the group. They were embarassed that the front bottom and top teeth couldn't agree on anything. Some of the back teeth actually believed that the front teeth had made themselves crooked on purpose, just to give themselves distinct appearances to attract attention and denote importance in Philip's mouth. Of course, they never revealed this to the front teeth, and spoke in code, because they feared the front teeth, who generally were far more outgoing.

Middle-Front-Right tooth laughed at the leftist little bottom tooth. "Your ideas are pink and fleshy. I am telling you...the only way the wisdom teeth will stop pushing is if we make room for them in this mouth. They need their own place to come out."

"Traitor! Traitor! Conspirator!" shouted the top right tooth, a large corner tooth that used to be pointy like the top left, but had been humbled by a bicycle accident when Philip was 8. Philip had fallen off his bicycle and had chipped off the tip of Top Right Corner-tooth. Since the accident, he had never been the same. He now rarely celebrated or admonished the other teeth's exploits. Until this moment, he had been mostly a recluse, perhaps only a shade more outgoing than Top Right Middle. "You are crazy to even think about letting the Wise Teeth out. They're pushing the back teeth as we speak. You know how the prophecy goes. They shall cause massive upheaval, pushing their way until we all crush into each other and our enamel shatters into dust. Our roots will dry up and Philip's mouth will be empty."

"Except for me", said the tongue. The rest of the mouth ignored him.

"I am no more a conspirator than you, Top-Right-Corner. After all, it wasn't my enamel that happened to come within contact with common pavement. I bet you enjoyed being chipped by that sidewalk. You probably got an illicit thrill."

"LIAR!" shouted Top Right Corner tooth angrily, losing his composure quickly. This isn't at all uncommon for corner teeth, who carry the enormous responsibility of guarding the integrity of the inner teeth and blocking the entry of would-be intruders, such as baseball bats and red brick walls. The corner teeth, although brave, were also in great danger every day. That may be why they are such patriots, willing to sacrifice themselves for the inner teeth that depend on them. For this reason, the other teeth remained silent during the exchange between Top Right Corner and Middle-Front Right.

Second-from-the-right-top spoke up. "What if we had another way around this problem?"

"What do you mean? There is no way to reason with madroots like the Wise Teeth. They have but one perogative, and that is to extinguish all teeth within the mouth except themselves," said the Top Left Middle.

"No, you misunderstand my plan. What if we were to all succomb to pain, give up our resistance, and stop pushing back when the Wise Teeth push us? Perhaps the pain would be so great that Philip would notice our plight and find a God to get them removed, instead of us."

Second-from-the-right-top was one of the most unpopular teeth. He was believed to be vain, and his enamel had a curve which was visible to other mouths. He could be said to be somewhat of a glory hog, although this idea was probably the best one yet.

"What if he doesn't do anything about it? We don't know how long he'll stay at the job where he is now..." said Top Left Middle. "Who knows when his 80% coverage of Gods runs out? And we know that removing the Wise Teeth would be a costly proposition. One thing is for certain-- Philip would never finance the operation from his own pocket. He would never pay that kind of fee himself. Our hope is doomed!"

"It doesn't mean that we shouldn't try," said Second-From-The-Right-Top, obviously enjoying the attention. His words began to resonate among the other teeth. "Our rootfathers once gave us freedom, and now we shall fight to maintain that freedom. I am not asking us to surrender...I'm asking us to believe. To believe in whom? Philip, the keeper of the mouth, slave of the Gods. It is to Philip that we owe our creation, but our Gods preserve us. With their green lab coats and those hygenic masks over their faces, they repair us when we are damaged, and they clean us when we are troubled and covered in plaque. And they shall save us, because Philip shall fill out the insurance form and go and get that operation done. The Wise Teeth will be removed. This smile will remain intact."

The other teeth applauded this statement by varying their blood flows to one another gradually. One of the wealthy, arterial back teeth put in an order for some adrenaline and a whole bunch of endorphins. A celebration was at hand! The teeth rejoiced, renewed by their new plan, and confident that they would remain free and intact, however crooked, until the Gods decide to remove them, or until Philip gets hit by that bus when he reaches 85.

~Jeremy Brendan, ©2000, All Rights Reserved.
Comments?

Strange Days Have Fallen

2005-06-16T09:13:00.000-04:00

Proof that the impending weird has descended upon what we know as reality:

Warthog accident:

Constant Rain Thwarts Busking:

Dissonants Shows=Buttah!:

MJ Escapes:

Odd Horoscopes:

Relative Contentment on my part:

Anything bizarre happen to you lately? Please share it with us & perhaps we can find some commonalities or linkages between these disparate events.

Dissonants to Play in Montreal Infringement Festival

2005-06-10T17:24:00.000-04:00

Montreal's finest anti-punk band the Dissonants will be playing three shows this week as part of the Infringement Festival.

(PRWEB) June 10, 2005 -- Montreal's rag-tag squad of anti-punk rockers, the Dissonants, will be playing three shows in three nights this Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

The three show mini-tour is part of the 2005 Montreal Infringement Festival. The Dissonants will appear at the following venues:
w/ Launie Anderssohn @ Toc Toc on Saturday, June 11th. ($5)
w/ Fall to Rise and Mistaken Heroes @ Quai des Brumes on Sunday, June 12th. ($5)
w/ One Away and Mistaken Heros @ Missy Bar on Monday, June 13th. ($5)

Singer/rhythm guitarist Philip Shearing has promised that his band will go beyond the call of duty. "Armen (lead guitarist) is talking about filling one of the three bars with whipped cream as we pound our instruments into a maelstrom of furious punkish rock. And Armen never lies. Ever."

Shearing also went on to make a solemn vow. "If you aren't happy with any of our sets, feel free to beat us with Nerf bats or throw rolled up twenty dollar bills at our heads. We dare you."

The Dissonants are also inviting fans and attendees of the shows to bring canned goods which will be donated to the St-Vincent de Paul Society.

For more information, please call Jeremy Brendan @ 514-242-9840 or email him @ jeremybrendan@gmail.com.

# # #

"Tired and Poor, Come on Down!"

2005-06-08T16:22:00.000-04:00

Imagine my surprise when my friendly, United-Nations loving web browser Opera displayed a banner that proclaimed "Win the green card lottery. Become A Citizen of the United States!" This is very alarming.

Admittedly, when it comes to gambling, I'm not exactly a craps dealer, but I'm not cloistered in the Vatican either. I have never bought a Super 7 or a Lotto 6/49 ticket although I used to play bingo with my mother in the school cafeteria. But gambling for your citizenship? Have we resorted to building a New Vegas for the refugees?

'Give me your tired and your poor, let me write their names on little scraps of paper, let's spin this barrel for awhile, and then fifty thousand lucky little foreigners will gain access to our land, for better or for worse.'

I can picture the game show, airing on Fox of course, right after America's Most Gruesome Wedding Accidents (7 PM EST). (I'm painting with broad strokes here so please don't expect any sublime, nuanced satire here. This is just me tossing pebbles across a sandbox.)

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Hosni al-Mughrabi, come on down! You are the next contestant on "America's Right", the show where we remind you that our way of life is far superior."

Hosni runs down the aisle waving his arms and smiling. He is covered from head to toe in his native garb and he has tears in his eyes.

"So, Hosni, where do you hail from?" asks the bureaucrat with the perfectly coiffed Elvis hairdo, about to write him a ballot for the 2003 Green Card draw.(TM)

Hosni begins to say "Ir..." as two Homeland Security stiffs run up, handcuff him, and drag him into a room for questioning. The screen goes blank and then begins to show a little American flag waving proudly to the strains of Bruce Springsteen's 'The Rising', until the stiffs realize that he's from Iran, not Iraq, although they secretly believe that both of those countries are breeding grounds for terrorists. Hosni is shuffled back to his place in front of the Jeopardyesque stage. There are cameras fixed on him but he's not sure if anyone is watching this.

Little does he know that he is one of the pawns in the largest ratings sweep in history, by none other than C-Span (in association with Fox).

The bureaucrat smiles without showing his teeth and says "Welcome back to Green Card Lotto, where everyone with a high school diploma or two years of work experience has a chance to plug one of the 50 thousand slots that we offer to overseas folks. Our newest contestant, Honsey...it sounds more like a good honest Christian name... What did you say your last name was? Mudravy? Sounds about right -- Honsey is going to tell us a little bit about where he is from."

"My name is Hosni..." says our contestant, his eyes lowered and his voice calm and restrained.

"Whatever, Ayatollah. Anyhow, did you see the commotion going on across the border from your slum village? Are ya feeling a little worried that our fearless leader might send some cowboys to pay you Erans a visit?" asks the bureaucrat, ending his sentence on a high note as he looks at the cameras for support.

"I want to come to America to study."

"No pilot school, though, right?"

"What?" Hosni seems slightly confused.

"Never mind. Which pillar did you plan on studying, boy? I hear that daily prayer is a doozy."

"I want to become an economist. And another thing...maybe I want to move to America, but I want to keep a little bit of Iran right here, you know? My country has it's problems but we were once a strong and powerful nation. We were inventing mathematics and achieving great conquests while your country was nothing but forests and plains. You must give us the respect that we are due. We are a humble people but we don't all live in mud huts. Even if we did, your country has people sleeping in the snow without shoes on."

"Only because here in America, we have too many poor people. If only we could make a reverse lottery and send the whole lot of them to live in your country...that would be something, wouldn't it?"

"There are poor people everywhere," said Hosni, scratching above his eye and looking very disappointed in the "American Way".

"Honsey, if you want to be an American, there are a few simple rules you just gotta follow. First of all, always keep your freedom, and when I say freedom, I mean freedom of speech, freedom to bear arms, freedom to be watched by our own government... simple-God fearing freedoms like that. I know that you're not used to that, I mean with the hands being chopped off and all, but you're going to have to learn that in this war on terrorism, you're either with us or against us."

"What about neutral countries?"

"You mean like Switzerland? Oh, who can trust those chocolate-loving Alps hikers? Who cares about "Old Europe" anyway? Let them reenact the French-Indian War for all I care."

The bureaucrat claps his hands together and two attendants, both clad in Nike jogging suits, dart up to Hosni. One removes his traditional headdress as the other replaces it with a red, white, and blue tophat, with a neon rendering of the American Flag flashing up the stovepipe. The bureaucrat throws Hosni's ballot into an emerald-encrusted barrel and gives it a spin. Commerical break.

Hosni removes the tophat, grabs his headdress, and runs out the door. He cabs it to the Canadian embassy and is surprised by the quaint little building with the single armed guard in front. He wonders if there is a "Canadian Way".
-----------------------------------------------

Canada accepts about 225,000 refugees and immigrants per year. Everyone is welcome, whether you are the gambling type or not. All that we ask is that you learn French if possible, and that you don't expect to carry around a handgun. And watch hockey, as soon as the NHL gets back on the ice. Or just fill out a ballot and maybe America will accept you with open arms (provided you have your grade 12!)

Does the Green Card Lotto make sense to you? Share your thoughts with us.

I'm Going to Be Rich!

2005-06-01T18:07:00.000-04:00

Opportunity knocks in the strangest of places. I just got this email and I am very confident that I'll be blinging in no time. If any of you are interested in joining in on this venture, let me know and I'll forward you this gentleman's contact information.
~~~
"URGENT AND CONFIDENTIAL
SIR,
FIRST,I MUST SOLICIT YOUR STRICTEST CONFIDENCE IN THIS TRANSACTION AND
I PRAY MY DECISION TO CONTACT YOU WILL BE GIVEN A GENUINE APPROVAL CONSIDERING
THE FACT THAT WE HAVE NOT KNOWN EACH OTHER BEFORE.

I AM PRINCE MENSAH OPOKU,A GHANAIAN AND THE FIRST SON OF THE SECOND WIFE
OF LATE KING NANA OPOKU ,HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS OF THE ASHANTI KINGDOM
OF THE REPUBLIC OF GHANA. OUR TRADITION PROHIBITS THE CHILDREN OF THE SECOUND WIFE TO INHERIT THE ESTATE OF THEIR FATHER,BASED ON THIS FACT,MY FATHER BEFORE HIS DEATH
, DEPOSITED A LARGE AMOUNT OF GOLD,WHICH USED TO BE PART OF THE HOMAGE
PAID TO HIM BY THE MINING COMPANIES OPERATING IN HIS TRADITIONAL LANDS,WITH
A BANK THROUGH A SECURITY COMPANY, AS AN INSURANCE FOR MY FUTURE.
PRESENTLY,MY PARENTS ARE DEAD AND I AM STILL IN SCHOOL WHICH I DECIDED
TO CONTACT YOU IMMEDIATELY TO HELP ME CARRY OUT THIS TREASURE THAT IS
LYING IN THE VAULT OF THE BANK TO YOUR COUNTRY, UNDER YOUR CARE AND SUPERVISSION
FOR FURTHER INVESTMENT PURPOSES,AFTER AN ONWARD SALE.
SIR,THEREFORE,ALL THAT IS NEEDED OF YOU IS JUST YOUR COOPERATION,HONESTY,AND
WILLINGNESS TO COME DOWN TO GHANA WHEREFORE,WE SHALL ALL GO TO THE BANK
TO CLAIM THIS TREASURE THAT HAS ACCUMULATED SOME DEMURRAGE CHARGES.EVERY
LEGAL DOCUMENTS COVERING THE SAFE KEEPING OF THIS GOLD SHALL BE SENT
TO YOU ON REQUEST.
SIR,I HOPE YOU TREAT THIS MESSAGE WITH THE HIGHEST URGENCY IT DESERVE
AND CONSIDER IT FAVORABLY,AFTER WHICH I WILL BE WELL PLEASE, TO FURNISH
YOU WITH ANY ADDITIONAL INFORMATION YOU MAY REQUIRE FROM ME.
PLEASE,ENDEAVOR TO INCLUDE YOUR PRIVATE FAX AND PHONE NUMBERS WHEN REPLYING,
TO ENABLE ME REACH YOU FASTER.YOU CAN ALSO CONTACT ME WITH THIS E-MAIL ADDRESS OR CALL ME ON THIS PHONE LINE....
LOOKING FORWARD TO ESTABLISHING A PROSPEROUS BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH
YOU AT LARGE.
I ANTICIPATE YOUR MAXIMUM UNDERSTANDING AND COOPERATION.
THANKS,

REGARDS,

PRINCE MENSAH OPOKU."

China's Constitution & Why It is Broken

2005-05-29T14:57:00.000-04:00

"Article 35. Citizens of the People's Republic of China enjoy freedom of speech, of the press, of assembly, of association, of procession and of demonstration."
Constitution of the People's Republic of China

The Chinese constitution was adopted on December 4th, 1982 and it is chock full of lofty, benevolent ideas like freedom of assembly and equality of all peoples. Sadly, the soldiers driving tanks through Tianamen Square in 1989 must not have been aware of Article 35, as they crushed a student protest in a bloody massacre that the Chinese Government remains silent about to this day.

One thing the Chinese people can count on is that they won't be Patriot-acted like their American cousins.

"Article 39. The home of citizens of the People's Republic of China is inviolable. Unlawful search of, or intrusion into, a citizen's home is prohibited."

Article 35 may be abused from time to time but Article 40 is most certainly torn to shreds on a daily basis.

"Article 40. The freedom and privacy of correspondence of citizens of the People's Republic of China are protected by law. No organization or individual may, on any ground, infringe upon the freedom and privacy of citizens' correspondence except in cases where, to meet the needs of state security or of investigation into criminal offences, public security or procuratorial organs are permitted to censor correspondence in accordance with procedures prescribed by law."

If Chinese authorities respect privacy, why are all blogs blocked from Chinese interet users? My friends in China can't read my blog--apparently, China employs a gargantuan firewall that filters requests from sites with "packet sniffing technology" seeking certain prohibited keywords--and this is fundamentally an example of censorship, the kind that curdles my milk.

It could be argued that no nation-state really follows its constitution to the letter, or whatever system of law it holds dear. Countries don't have a conscience and will generally do what allows them to thrive, whether their citizens suffer or not.

Even in our utopic northern liberal paradise, we Canadians have been jerked around by the government countless times. In the Gaspe Coast where I'm from, when the government made Bonaventure Island into a nature preserve, they evicted several families with little or no compensation, uprooting them from the land they had lived on for generations. Same with Mirabel International Airport, the White Elephant they built on the remains of family farms forcibly traded at pitiful prices.

Still, I wish that we could design some form of government that actually believes the words and guarantees that it makes, one that would be willing to declare peace on the peoples of the world. We've all heard of declarations of war, so why not peace?

Since China is the most populous nation on earth, they deserve attention and criticism when their people are being short-changed by a repressive government. In the past two years, I've taken aim on America's shortcomings and mistakes many times but in doing so, I've neglected to admit that nations like China have a long way to go in the march towards freedom. Even with idiotic laws like the ones contained in the Patriot Act, America is still more free than many nations.

If Xinhuanet, the official state-approved news service is any indication, the Chinese people are aware of what is going on in the world around them, and they will take their freedom back one day. (if they've ever been free? Has anyone in the world ever truly been free?) We need a worldwide movement that encourages revolution (peacefully, of course) and that thwarts the oppression and domination of humanity. Who will lead us? Are any of you willing to step forward and risk life and limb for everyone else? Personally, I nominate Dennis Kucinich.

Who would make a good leader for a global freedom movement? Discuss. (Ghandi and other dead folks are excluded from the list!)

Dissonants, Jesus & the Headliners, Coriander, Tabula Rasa @ Reggie's, June 1st

2005-05-27T12:52:00.000-04:00

Yes, there is a punk show & you're all invited. Come and see Jeremy Brendan get hazed by his cruel bandmates. Marvel at the anti-punk sound of the Dissonants. Jesus & the Headliners have promised to save your soul and then trade it to the devil for corn chips. Some of you may remember that Coriander played with the Dissonants once before and their sound is pure and frenetic. Tabula Rasa will also be bringing their bag of Trix.

Proceedings start at 8 PM so be early and grab a booth seat!

~~~~

The Dissonants
Jesus & the Headliners
Coriander
Tabula Rasa
(& Friends)
Reggie's, 1455 de Maisonneuve
(Inside Concordia University, Metro Guy-Concordia)

JB Summer Mix-Tape

2005-05-25T12:25:00.000-04:00

In commemoration of our 20-thousandth visitor (since we started counting!), here is my suggestion for a mix-tape that you can blast at 90 db to the concern and disgust of your neighbors. It starts off punky and raw but eventually settles down into an indie-rock anthem sort of speed, before winking out like a votive candle in a wind tunnel with a couple of plaintive acoustic tunes. You can find most of these songs on the web or in your favourite filesharing app. Good luck, and godspeed!

~~~

Causey Way - Jesus Loves You: Lo-fi new-wavish punk rock by the now-defunct Causey Way band. The Causey Way were a self-admitted cult, although it was more of a marketing thing than a Jim-Jones Kool-Aid thing.

Eric's Trip - Eyes Shut: Moncton's Best Band Ever were short on the details but their sound is authentic enough that you can still hear it if you stand on the right part of Magnetic Hill at night and you're drunk enough to see things in double.
Turbonegro - Denim Demon: Who says that homoerotic imagery and hardcore punk guitar won't go to the same dance arm in arm? Norwegian death-punk band Turbonegro wear sailor caps for a reason. Who knows? Maybe you could be their next cabin boy when the ship goes down.

Iggy Pop & the Stooges - Search and Destroy: The opening riff is so cruel and beautiful that it reminds me of a wicked stepmother, frumpy and old but armed with a violent right hook.
And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - Heart in the Hand of the Matter: No need to explain...witness the first lyrics: "Ride the apocalypse / Coming through the city side / fallen angel / there is no need to hide." Excellent guitar work and great vocal gymnastics, despite the singer's relatively humble range.

TV On the Radio - Satellite: Check out the trippy atmospheric effect used on the guitar (phaser?) when it cuts through the drone of the keyboards. These Brooklyn boys will go places, if there is any justice at all in this One-size-fits-all, cookie cutter world.

The Unicorns - Jellybones: I wore this one out, personally, but only after close to a thousand listens while high on jelly beans. Jangly and awkward, like all of us back in Grade 7. Too bad they broke up as a band because their sound makes the Fiery Furnaces seem quaint and classical.
Wolf Parade - Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts: If David Bowie was born in 1976, he would probably sound a lot like Dan Boeckner, lead singer of Wolf Parade. They have a miraculous live show and this cut off their self-titled EP still gets the hair on my back to stand up like a Liberal MP in the House of Commons.

The Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #2 (Laika): Harmonics ring out, accordion saunters in and schmoozes the drums sitting at the bar. Win sings in that wavering, perfect way (which critics obsess over and often compare to David Byrne) about his brother Alexander. The AF love to write a narrative in their lyrics and that is why I would follow them to the ends of the flat earth.
The Shins - New Slang: Sub Pop still knows how to pick 'em. The Shins mine that volcanic rock for ferrous metals and walk out of the shaft with gold dust in their hair every time. Great song to burn a spliff to while sitting on your front porch with some close friends.

Elliott Smith - St. Ide's Heaven: This lost soul with a knife in his heart left us with some great music and St. Ide's Heaven has a breathtaking chorus, complete with the inevitable drug reference and poetic imagery. Warning: Do not listen to Smith if you are A) a tragic, sentimental romantic B) a suicidal artist with a history of self-destruction.

Bright Eyes - Lua: Conor Oberst may have been panned by the critics on his last acoustic album but this song cannot be defeated by the pen, nor by the sword. Oberst makes it OK to be drunk in the middle of the day when regular folks are being healthy and happy in their hamster-wheel existences.

"New Slang" by JB

2005-05-21T20:11:00.000-04:00

Music can have piercing beauty
Truly-made songs urge me
to pop my own ballon
and let the air whooosh out
from my lungs one last time

Of course, I won't.
That would mean no new songs
I hear tunes everywhere
~in the footfalls on a long hallway
~in the whirring spin of a ceiling fan
~in the heavy breath of my lover
~in the hum of an engine
Can You listen?
Will You?
The best songs
are pure blackmail
They take your heart hostage
and the best hearts write songs.

~~~
I wrote that poem when I had the Shins song "New Slang" trapped in my head, sailing round and round like some sort of sloop on the waves of my own awareness. My words pale in comparison to the greatness of this song. Here are the lyrics, republished so that you can understand where I was coming from. Download the song somewhere or buy the CD if you're blinging. Also, you can visit their website to see the video for free.
~~~

"New Slang"

Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

"I've Learned" by JB

2005-05-14T01:46:00.000-04:00

that God exists but he's a stand-up comedian
He tapped the mic and said
"Is this thing on?"
And told a number of jokes
infinite sick twisted little riddles
He made us all bland billiard balls
just bouncing off each other
and making noises

God has a cruel sense of humour
He laughs at the babies
born with AIDS because
of the diseases he planted in the earth
And civilian casualties
(especially genocides) make Him
Crack Up

We do have optimism
and hope
and dreams of kinetic energy
moving us on High
or protecting us from each other
Can secular save our souls?
Do we need an independent
observer giggling in the crowd?

I can't forget to mention
that I have learned
to love it all
I must reap
the seeds I drop
and I must forgive
me for being

I fear
stormtrooper silhouettes
bombs
parapets
cancer
tainted food
racists
blackmail
automobiles
insects
and true love

I long for lounging with She
but I'm strapped to a bench
and electrodes are crazy-glued
to my hairless temples
My skin is white
Nails down to their roots
Foolish stubble on my chin
I have a sick grin on my face
It's like I'm God
but I'm not laughing

I'll venture on alone
The piano will lilt
me to happy
caverns of thought
I am sorry
that I left you all
in the deep end
I can't pummel mountains

Love leaps through all time
at once
You never left a lover
we're all still together
then.

J-School Devours Our Proud Narrator and Chews Him Into Paste

2005-05-10T21:39:00.000-04:00

May 10, 2005

ID: *******
Jeremy Brendan
**** Monkland
Montreal, Quebec
H** 1**
jeremybrendan@gmail.com

Dear Jeremy,

I am writing to advise you that due to your unsatisfactory performance in your Journalism courses this year you will not be permitted to register for any further courses in this department.

If you wish to continue in Journalism Studies, you will have to re-apply for admission for the 2006-2007 academic year.

Sincerely,
Enn Raudsepp, PhD
Director
Journalism Department
Concordia University

c.c. Roberto Chen-Rangel, Academic Counsellor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mr. Raudsepp,

Thank you for the prompt correspondence. I wonder if you could pass J-School while being homeless? It would be very interesting to see but I'm sure you'd give it the old college try.

I will take a year of History in the Fall, and if possible, I will re-apply for admission in 2006-2007 (if your department is willing to give me a second chance).

Cheers & Have a Great Summer.
Jeremy Brendan

~~~
"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
-Hunter S. Thompson

"Dancer's Lament" by JB & Kirk

2005-05-08T07:20:00.000-04:00

This poem is a collaborative effort, the other scribe being my mystic philosopher of a pal Kirk. I wanted it to zig and zag -- please let me know what you think of it.
JB.

***

I haven't read Carlos
but I'm willing to dance and spin
The Whirl of a worthy world
That yet beckons once again
As She's clothed in the finest silk
Her rings are sparkles under so many suns
That my shadow-casting time-piece
Is a hurricane of light
My eyes blink on command
and I wonder whether predators pray?
Only that the acid-less rain will
Fall on the umbrella-less
My soul is waiting for a bus
and my heart is short 50 cents for cab fare
Funny 'cause I gots dollahs worth of two-cents
Mind-funk girth-less solicitudes to spare
When The End is ready to fuck
I will let her mount me and take what she needs
As Her eyes are lasers tearing me to pieces hard to read
And very puzzling to see her put me back to place
My affection for this realm is boundless
Bless you all with UnGod's truth
My hat is off and it's lying beside my boots
I'll sleep for dreams of forever.

2005.

"Claws" by JB

2005-05-03T12:50:00.000-04:00

So she's got claws
and they're out, apparently
I had no idea
My back hasn't been scratched
in ages

Sometimes a smile
is all you need to convince
the general public
that you're a normal person
while shopping

I planted the rose
The Vodka is in my closet
It will be emptied
sooner or later (sooner)
When the next cat comes to sleep

"Yelp" by JB

2005-04-28T13:59:00.000-04:00

I'm awash in all sorts of advice
from everyone who owns a tongue
They mean well
& don't realize that my pen leaked in my pocket
My cords are ruined forever
The fabric of my song
is so wrong
I slip slip slip
into a lazy sleep
Obscurity killed this cat
Too much sloth, not enough cheetah
No posts, no Holy Ghosts
nothing to save me from me
The barricade is tall
and well-equipped
We have lanterns in here
and enough food to last for weeks
A pile of newspapers is smoldering
in the tepid air of midday
Journalism is all ashes now
and fading fainting stuttering speeches
that once meant something
I'd rather chew buttons
than go down on one knee
to court the favour of the King

My heart feels ancient
as if I stole it from St-Joseph's
Distracted the guard
Just reached into the case and
pulled out that gamey thing
to replace mine (it's fucked)
I can feel the lost hours
and painted walls of paranoid splendour
Manic movements of a misunderstood fucker
Wants to be a saint
but he can't stop sinning
it's in his dirty warm blood

I saw Hollywood today at my bank.
He was withdrawing some hard-earned cash
Months ago, I had my guitar on my shoulder
Hollywood called to me in his pleasant drawl
Hey, Banjoman!
Gimme some coin or I'll pimp your azz on tha street!
I had nothing to give him.

Understanding why we live
is more than living
Loving everyone
is more than being loved

I wish I could sing you all to sleep
and it would be nice
to get a card or two this holiday season

For now, I'll linger with
Kurt and Elliott and Layne
or at least the minstrel-mish-mash
they left me with
and I'll keep my chin up
high high high
My eyes will sink
like flotsam
or is it jetsam?
I'll make pretty foam pictures

I've been accused of being
-self-referential
-a bad influence
-ornery
-creative
-completely depraved
Can you guess which I prefer?

This random nonsense
is worth more than a glance
It's not Ginsberg
but it's not CSI Miami either.
I have to yelp
before I can howl

Bright Eyes - "You Will. You? Will. You? Will."

2005-04-17T15:56:00.000-04:00

You say that I treat you / like a book on a shelf
I don't take you out that often / because I know that I completed you
and that's why you are here / That's the reason why you stay here
How awful that must feel

You said you would be my dream / I could have you every night
and if, by morning, I'd forgotten you / well, no big deal, it would be alright

you're the reoccurring kind / You're the reoccurring kind
You never will leave my mind

Are you the love of my lifetime? / Because there have been times I've had my doubts. We were just kids when I first kissed you / in the attic of my parents house
and I wish we were there now / I took so long to figure out
What this book has been about

Now I write when I'm away / letters that you'll never read
You said go explore those other women / the geography of their bodies
but there's just one map you'll need / You're a boomerang you'll see
You will return to me

You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.

Because if you don't, then this book is all lies
If you don't, then my plans would all be ruined
If you don't, I'll start drinking like the way I drank before
And I just wont have a future anymore.

Are we boomerangs? I truly hope so.

"Ends" by JB

2005-04-16T15:45:00.000-04:00

Have you ever seen a screen through liquid lenses
as you dissolve like alka-seltzer in a cup?
I've been there so you don't have to.
I'm exploring the vile empty

Most of the folks I know are lost
or wicked.
Some are friendly, drunken elves
that inhabit sunny barroom clearings.
Others are too broken to be repaired.
I would cut my arms if it made them whole
but my blade is dull and boring.
I've never seen the East.
I don't come with a lovely carrying case
or a gift certificate.
I'm so open
that I can't be closed
and that is seen as a weakness.
I'm the man of the future.
My sobs are defiant
and I'm proud to be a fucking sad drunk.

I've been dreaming bitter, tasteless things lately
Being high in front of my parents.
Hating the fruit on my branches.
Apples with worms hiding in there.

2005-04-14T02:12:00.000-04:00

Live Rock Show! The Impalers, The Dissonants, Rance Mulnix, Bedbox, A Still Life Depiction of Momentum, Seven Swans: of Silver City, Barfly, $3.

Turbonegro Coming As Quickly As Possible

2005-04-05T10:49:00.000-04:00

Turbonegro, Norway's fabulous deathpunk funboys, are back on the road spreading their mischief (and most probably their buttcheeks, sailor!). They are not to be missed. Europeans beware! The tour coincides with a CD launch for their upcoming album "Party Animals" on May 9th.

~~~

23-Apr Germany, Hamburg, Grosse Freiheit
10-May Sweden, Stockholm, Nalen
12-May Germany, Berlin, Huxleys
13-May Germany, Leipzig, Haus Aunsee
14-May Germany, Muenster, Joevel
15-May Germany, Wiesbaden, Schlachthof
16-May Germany, Munich, George Elser Halle
18-May Netherlands, Amsterdam, Paradiso
19-May UK, London, Islington Academy
20-May UK, Leeds, Cockpit
21-May UK, Morcambe, Wasted Festival (http://www.holidaysinthesun.net)
26-May Austria, Vienna ,Aerodrome Festival
27-May Spain, Madrid, Festimad Festival
28-May Portugal, Lisaboa, Super bock Festival
30-July Sweden, Östersund, Storsjöyran

Check out a video of Turbonegro playing their hit song "Denim Demon"!
(courtesy of TurbojugendUSA.com)

America, Land of Bombs & Money

2005-03-26T13:56:00.000-05:00

"Easter is the victory of light over darkness. In this season of renewal, we remember that hope leads us closer to truth, and that in the end, even death itself will be defeated. That is the promise of Easter morning."
U.S. President George W. Bush, National radio address on Saturday, March 26th. (CNN)

Yes, Pres. Bush. Death will be defeated by praying to Jesus. Perhaps the thousands of marines in Iraq can say hail marys as their unarmoured humvees get shot at by stray AK-47 and RPG fire.

When 16-year old Jeff Weise decided to shoot up his school, he was taking the path of violence and destruction that most of us would abhor. He should have joined the U.S. Army. That way, he could have killed as many "insurgents" as he wanted without risking a murder charge.

"A senior (U.S.) Army legal official acknowledged that the Iraqi colonel had at one point been lifted to his feet by a baton held to his throat, and that that action had caused a throat injury that contributed to his death.

The Army accounting said the Special Forces Command had determined that the use of force had been lawful 'in response to repeated aggression and misconduct by the detainee.'

Despite recommendations by Army investigators, commanders have decided not to prosecute 17 American soldiers implicated in the deaths of three prisoners in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2003 and 2004, according to a new accounting released Friday by the Army."
"Pentagon Will Not Try 17 GI's Implicated in Prisoners' Deaths" (NYT)

Killing is wrong any way you look at it. When you're the most powerful nation on the earth, you have a moral duty to limit the spread of violence and the distribution of arms.

Instead, America is the biggest purveyor of weapons on the globe. Just days ago, they announced the sale of F-16 multi-purpose jet fighters to Pakistan, no doubt due to Pakistan's half-hearted attempts at catching Bin Laden, America's Emmanuel Goldstein. Never mind the fact that India has protested that this will only escalate tensions in the region.

If there is a point to all of this, America's establishment will recoil in horror when one of its own sons decides to pick up a rifle and begin killing his classmates, but they think it's just fine to spread violence elsewhere in the world by selling kill-machines and bombs to other nations. Don't they see the relation between having weapons and using them?

U.S., do us all a favour. Sign on to Kyoto, sign the Landmines ban, join the International Criminal Court, and stop thinking that you're some sort of empire. Your downhill slide is already apparent to many independent observers, anyhow. While you're at it, start teaching Mandarin or Japanese in your classrooms. They'll own you before the century is through.

Oh, and Happy Easter!

Hacking Up a Lung & Dissonants Gig

2005-03-23T10:16:00.000-05:00

I've been busy as of late trying to retrieve the wreckage of Concordia Flight 2005 from the crash scene of my school year. I fucked around a lot and now I'm mathematically doubtful of passing several of my courses. It would be nice to be a part of the religious herd at this point so that I would have somebody to pray to. Being an agnostic, I've been secretly praying to Enn Rautsepp, the director (?) of Concordia's Journalism program.

Today, I have to go and cover some exposition on chocolate at McGill University. It begins in 43 minutes and my bacon isn't done frying on the stove. I predict that I will arrive late, start scribbling down any notes I can, and then dart towards the free samples of chocolate. I'm salivating just thinking of ripping through a sweet little piece of cocoa extract right now.

Later this week, I have some copy stories due for Radio class (deadline: Friday night) and a myriad pile of other work that has accumulated in the past few months. Rautsepp preserve me!

~~~

In other news, the Dissonants will be playing a gig at Reggie's Pub tomorrow (Thursday night). They want to punk you into a frenzy. Doors open at 7 PM, cover is a paltry $2, and there will be four terrific bands to stroke your musical muscles. Come one, come all!
##########
Thu - 03.24 Launie Anderssohn, The Dissonants, The Rothschilds, Coriander @ Reggie's Pub ($2) (7pm), 1455 De Maisonneuve (in Concordia's Hall Building!).
##########

"Wilding" by JB

2005-03-18T03:21:00.000-05:00

I think that I've progressed, comparing this text to "All of You". I dropped the forced rhyming and just went with my gut.

"Wilding"
~~~
This is the most important instant of my life.
I am completely aware
of the dangers inherent in uttering such a thing
You could crush me like a beetle
My legs would twitch on
but I'd be dead, nonetheless

I'm holding out my hand
it's yours for the taking
If you lock me outside
I will have to curl up in a snowbank
I'm a vagabond even if I have a home.
I still piss in alleyways and eat table scraps

Give me what you can
I'll wait until there is peace in Israel
Like patient waves that reach for mountains
but only make it as far as the beach
My love has no expiry date
It will age like red wine
~~~

Ironically enough, I am indeed twitching but I'm hoping I'll get scooped off the street before any more sedans pass over me. I'm not broken. Lather, rinse, repeat. I'm not broken.

"All of You" by JB

2005-03-18T02:57:00.000-05:00

Wrote this one a while back but never bothered to do anything with it. Poetry means something to me again because it's all I have left. I can't sleep, I barely eat; even alcohol has lost its woozy charm. I need to rely on words to get me through this turbulence, these nightmares I dream while I'm awake. Point is, this poem once inspired me to keep going way back when, so now I wanted to share it with you all.

I'd appreciate some criticism or commentary. It's a tad bit rough, so go easy on me, eh? Might even work as lyrics, I guess. [Ed. Note: Stick to something you're good at, like sleeping, or fooling people into thinking that you're some sort of bewildered idiot-savant. You're an actor, a stumbling, self-obsessed little fuck who thinks that because he has access to a keyboard and a couple of 4-dollar words, all of the sudden he's some sort of poet. Jeremy Brendan, you've always been a fraud & now your inflicting all of this miserable prose on the world. Shame. Shaaaame.]

"All of You"
~~~
I am alive for
this minute
for art and the
worlds in it
for love and the
infinite
for friends and readers of
English Lit
for truth and arguing with
the cynics
for people who like
being misfits
for the unknown hero lying to
be tragic
for the causality that is based
on magic

I love humanity
insanity
& vanity
in small doses
for lovers who twist
like red roses
for brown hair
and delicate poses
for winter
and red noses
I am alive and I thrive
because what's in me
is all of you
~~~

Don't listen to my editor. He's just hateful because I always get the last word.

First Annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest

2005-03-16T15:20:00.000-05:00

I am about to go and pawn some of my personal effects to fund the first annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest. Yes, I am going out to drink like my liver is made of titanium, folks. It's 3:18 PM so the day is young.

The contest has two parts:

Spot JB:

Stamina:

Everyone is welcome to attend! Bring your fat, swollen wallets and a sense of humour, because JB doesn't have either of those today. [Ed. Note: To give you all a hint, JB's usual haunts are Cock 'n Bull Pub, Brutopia, and Reggie's, although there is a strike at Concordia today so Reggie's is not a potential hangout.]

What contest would be complete without a prize? If you spot JB, you win at least one anecdote relating Hindu mythology with a musical instrument or maybe a corny joke. Also, JB can help you find whatever you need, ie. opium, ether, etc. If you can keep up with JB's drinking, you win his gratitude and the unadulterated respect of your peers (the drunken gang at whichever bar you happen to be at).

Looking forward to seeing you all out there! Cheers and vive la peine, l'amour est mort!

The Hunter Has Left the Building

2005-02-21T17:10:00.000-05:00

[Ed. Note: Hunter S. Thompson died last night of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Jeremy wrote the following last night but I was only able to post it today. His real-life alter-ego is trying to get it published in the Montreal Mirror but we can't guarantee they'll accept it. En attendant, here it is, unedited.]

It's getting damn close to 4 AM but I can't sleep right now. What I wouldn't do for a drug tonight, anything to get my mind out of this soul-sucking space. I can't believe that another one of my heroes has died; Doctor Gonzo is no more.

Hunter S. Thompson was once a writer, before he became a lab rat and singed his neurons into charcoal. Thompson was a barbarian in his early days, clanging his pen against the gates of the publishing world, trying to prove that electrified prose and quick wit could triumph over accuracy. The 50's was mostly a wasteland until he rolled up on his motorcycle, drugs in one hand and a gun in the other.

Thompson used a novelist's eye to get to the epicentre of the story, sometimes lying to get his point across. Many credit him with ushering in the style known as "New Journalism", a school now relegated to trashy mags like Vice or the occasional college rag. His detractors painted him as a fraud--nothing more than a celebrity-cum-writer who milked his reputation for all it was worth--to them, he was more a drugged-out gun nut than a literary figure.

Hunter was all of these things. More importantly, he set the journalists free. Why else would I be compelled to write that my hemorrhoids are really burning right now? His death makes my soul burn more than any pile ever could.

Often going by the pseudonym "Raoul Duke", Thompson showed the American Press that their "inverted pyramid" technique was just as boring as the missionary position they would employ on their wives once a week.

Thompson proved that colour and flair (along with a keen sense of what is right) can compensate for gaps in the narrative; ultimately, the truth will emerge even if it is submerged beneath a sea of falsity.

Hunter never did wipe out the "Pyramid crowd"; those dinosaurs will still walk the earth when we're all just bones and plastic beer cups. I don't know if we'll ever be rid of the type of people who work for Fox News.

It must be said that Thompson never did a journalism class. Hell, he probably would have choked on the endless fluff pieces that I and my fellow scribes are forced to ejaculate for our loveless Concordia professors. Hunter's whole career was based on a sham, after he convinced the U.S. Air Force that he was qualified to write, edit, and produce a newspaper.

Hunter was an exception.

Now, I'm left here with all these Rules and no Buzz with the walls closing in like lobster claws. Where is Wendy, my one and only, when I need her? Has the world gone mad?

Maybe the Canadian Air Force is hiring?

The Dissonants & The Casingles, Reggie's Pub, Fri. Feb. 18th, 9 PM, $5

2005-02-17T20:26:00.000-05:00

As listed in the Montreal Mirror, don't miss the Dissonants & the Casingles show tomorrow night @ Reggie's Pub. (Friday, Feb. 18th @ 9 PM!) It will be bedlam, I tell you.

Note: This is not the real logo from Reggie's Pub but a visual aid was needed, so use your imagination.
The Dissonants have a prolific set planned to ease you into the "Reading Week" Holiday Spirit. The D's plan to play a handful of originals and some inspired covers (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Turbonegro). Their sound is hard to pigeonhole but probably lies somewhere between Dinosaur Jr. and Old-School punk. [Ed. Note: More like the unholy bastard child of Alexisonfire and Counting Crows! Despite this, I assure you that they will rock your casbah.]

After the Dissonants, headliners the Casingles will bring some of that voodoo garage punk that you all know and love. After the hysteria-inducing set they played a couple of Sundays ago at Cafe Chaos (accompanied by Manic Manon and the surprisingly excellent psychobilly band Flesh), expect them to put on a hell of a show tomorrow night.

[Ed. Note: Shaking Judy could not make it to the show because they were abducted by Space Raelians. Our hearts and prayers are going out to them (to Shaking Judy, not to the Raelians!)]

I am not usually one to agree with hacks like the New York Times but Montreal's burgeoning rock scene is home to a lot of impressive acts (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Launnie Andersohn, The Stills, The Unicorns, The Dears, etc.). Support your local scene!
~~~

The Dissonants, The Casingles, 9pm, $5
Feb 18, Reggie's Pub, Concordia U, 1455 de Maisonneuve W.
For more info: 848-7423 or 242-9840

The Ayatollah's Edicts & Whether Holding Hands is Permissible

2005-02-11T00:52:00.000-05:00

I was reading an interesting article by Patrick Cockburn on Counterpunch Magazine (""Sistani's Vision for Iraq") and it lead me to Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani's Official site.

Ayatollah al-Sistani is one of the key figures Iraq's Shi'ite community, a group that represents over 60 percent of the Iraqi population. In the January 30 election, the United Iraqi Alliance is claiming to have won a majority of the seats in Iraq's National Assembly. According to the Economist, the UIA "claims Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani as its chief mentor."

A recount is underway in Iraq but if the preliminary results hold to be true, will the UIA (which some have described as fundamentalist) turn Iraq into another Iran? Ayatollah al-Sistani has not expressed an interest in running for public office, but will the UIA decide to bring in Sharia law or something similar?

Will America's attempt to inject democracy serum into an Iraq, bound by the chains of occupation, turn it into another fundamentalist Arab regime indifferent to American demands? [Ed. Note: JB, can you make these sentences any longer? This is amateurish bullshit. Get to the point.]

I decided to do a little digging and on al-Sistani's website, I found some startling revelations. Thanks to his very comprehensive FAQ page, here are the Grand Ayatollah's views on:

Suicide
"Question:Is suicide permissible in Islam?

Answer:It is not permissible.

Question:What does the Qur’an say about suicide?

Answer:Islam does not allow it in every circumstance."

Oral Sex
"Question:Is oral sex by husband or wife allowed?

Answer:It is permissible provided no liquid out swallowed."

Checking Out Some Guy
"Question:Which part of strange man’s body is it allowed for a woman to look at? Is it allowed to look at his breast? On the tv in the western countries its very oft, that the men show their bodies till the belly ?

Answer:Looking of a woman at a stranger’s (ajnabi) body is forbidden, if it is with lust and fear of falling in sin. It is not even permissible to look without that (lust and fear) also as a measure of obligatory precaution except for the parts of body which normally a man does not cover i.e. head, hand and ankles which a woman can look at if it is without lust and without fear of falling in sin."

Masturbation
"Question:If my wife wants me to masturbate in front of her, is it then allowed?

Answer:You are not allowed to do it with hand, but your wife is."

Friendship
"Question:I wanted to know about friendship norms in islam about females ?

Answer:Friendship with her is not permissible. Because in such friendship man is not immune from sin."

Backdoor Action
"Question: Is anal intercourse permissible.?

Answer:Permission is bound to wife’s agreement, but it is strongly undesirable."

Orgies
"Question:Is having an orgy permissible under the Qur’an?

Answer:It's forbidden."

Or Just Getting Acquainted
"Question:Are shaking of hands with girls allowed?

Answer:It is not permissible."

After reading al-Sistani's site, I've realized that I take a lot of my freedoms for granted.

I didn't quote his ultra-religious edicts to mock him in any way--I am equally disdainful of all religions--it's just that a party that sees him as its spiritual guide could very well win the Iraqi election and write a constitution that will absorb edicts like these.

Saddam was definately a brutal tyrant but he was still more of a secular leader than a religious one, mainly because his Sunni-led regime used secular policies to minimize the power of Shi'ite religious leaders. Now that the Shi'ites will be running the show in Iraqi, can they be relied upon to protect the rights of women? What about those of minorities like the Kurds, the Turkmen, or the Sunnis?

My heart of hearts hopes that there will be an end to the fighting between Iraqi versus Iraqi and the occupation will end by Bush's strained National Guardsmen and tired Marines. Then, you can bring the boys home, Mr. Bush. [Ed. Note: Tell them not to buy their tickets just yet. There's 20 or 30 thousand Iraqis running around with heavy weaponry looted from Saddam's weapons depots. JB, you are one deluded informer! The occupation will end the year we have a female President.B]

Oh, and just in case you were wondering:

"Question:I have a cat, and I heard that I couldn’t pray in clothing that have cat's hair. Is this true?

Answer: It does not make the prayer void.

Question:Praying in a condition that you have a leather wallet (bought from un Islamic country & unaware of the nature of leather) in your pocket is acceptable or not?

Answer:That is permissible and there is no objection in it."

Bush's 2006 Budget; "Just When You Thought Things Couldn't Get Any Worse!"

2005-02-08T17:41:00.000-05:00

The Bush administration released their FY 2006 budget proposal on February 7th and I think that it truly proves that he is a compassionate conservative. The only downside is that his compassionate nature only extends to wealthy industrialists and other shady characters, the ones with the keys to the war machine.

Bush's sordid gang of looters are planning to invest the retirement savings of American workers into the stock market. As Lyndon Larouche pointed out, this economic plan was already tried out in Chile with disastrous effects for their population. Of course, this was under the Pinochet Regime and was pushed through at gunpoint; hopefully, the American public will have the good sense to rise up and demand that their representatives throw this idea out before it bankrupts their future.

While Bush seeks to reduce federal expenditures, he has no real means of doing so without cutting his bloated military budget. The War on Terror don't come cheap, eh Mr. Bush? Since 2001, the Bush Administration has raised "overall Defense spending by 41 percent." It is disheartening to see so much money available for bombs and unmanned attack vehicles but less to provide for health care or education.

The Bush budget has a couple of other doozies that stand out like erections on a crowded subway car. For example, Bush has slated "$100 million to fund competitive grants for States to develop innovative approaches to promote healthy marriages." Healthy marriages? Are they going to pay for Viagra or perhaps give each American married couple a free night at some swanky hotel? My instincts tell me no, that this is just a polite way of saying "if you can stop those queers from getting hitched, we'll toss you some coins!" Past experiences tell me that the term "healthy marriage" can't be bought with currency; it must be fought for, tooth and nail, by two loving partners, whether they be straight, gay, or just plain crazy.

U.S. federal spending on education should amount to $56 billion USD, a decrease of 1 percent compared to the FY 2005 budget. The Environmental Protection Agency will also feel the pain next year; their 2006 funding will decrease by 6 percent to $7.6 billion. Even with reductions in these departments, the U.S. will still have a $390 billion dollar deficit to contend with, and projected annual deficits of at least $200 billion or more over the next four years.

Bush is definately concerned about young people who fuck without getting married first. The proposed budget will "(provide) more than $206 million for abstinence-only activities this year." Paradoxically, these sort of "activities" haven't really worked in the past, as teen pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases show no sign of disappearing across America. Neo-puritanism will never solve the issues of our time, no matter what the Religious Right's televangelists are preaching.

If there is a silver lining, it is for the Richie Rich jet-set club. The wealthiest Americans will enjoy the fruits of their lobbying and connections; they will save about $1 trillion USD over the next decade, money that could have gone to rebuild America's tumbling infrastructure or to uplift the needy. This will also exacerbate the ballooning national debt (an eye-popping $8.6 trillion USD, which is projected to rise to $11 trillion by 2010!).

Budgets like this one prove that when you put a blind man behind the wheel, you are sure to run into oncoming traffic. Fifty years from now, Americans will spit whenever somebody mentions the name George W. Bush. He makes "Tricky Dick" Nixon look like Ghandi. George Dubya's "faith-based" leadership is just that; he believes that his disjointed economic policies will work despite all other evidence to the contrary. If America is to climb out of this hole, they had better start praying.

[Ed. Note: This budget hadn't yet been approved by Congress as of press time. Also, most Democrats and a few key Republicans oppose many of the cuts in the slated budget. It will be interesting to see whether Congress gives Bush their seal of approval.]

The Arcade Burns For You, America

2005-01-27T10:12:00.000-05:00

The Arcade Fire are on tour in the oppressed police state south of chilly Canada. If Bush has got you down, at least you can enjoy some great music and drink that weak putrid beer, America! [Ed. Note: What are you on? Keep writing posts like this and you'll be selling pencils in front of Alexis-Nihon Mall in no time. JB, give me a call.]

~~~

01.27 * Asheville, NC @ The Orange Peel
01.28 * Carrboro, NC @ Cat's Cradle
01.30 * Washington, DC, @ 9:30 Club
01.31 * Philadelphia, PA @ Theatre of Living Arts
02.01 * New York, NY @ Webster Hall
02.02 * New York, NY @ Irving Plaza
02.03 * Boston, MA @ Roxy

"2nd Ave." by JB

2005-01-25T02:03:00.000-05:00

The moon is a half dream and I forgot
how to prove my own existence
I'm a pariah, parallel with the beams
that drip down from that white crescent
My friends are asleep
They're smiling
and graced with the Karmic bliss
of empty days
I wouldn't trade them
for a treasure chest or a leather chair

~~~

Gerald sips his water and wishes
that it was beer
His eyes are still bold
and his shoulders are high
He may have lost his voice
but only from singing
He is very sad
because he knows what life is
He has given us more
than he has taken

~~~

Chris is a punk through and through
He is a stargazing rock and roll hero
We are waiting for him to make good
The Colombian lady is his temptress
and he might pawn his game for gold
but he doesn't steal
and his future is unravelling
into a sea of mermaids
and sandy beaches
He may return to B.C.

~~~

Clem is an old friend
His heart was born lately
It is always ready to seize control
and veer him wildly askew
like Ski-doo tracks between the trees
He means well
and watches out for his friends
If his Id has vanquished his Ego
so be it
as long as Clem remembers
how far he can leap!

~~~

Mike is a bulldog
He'll guard his kin to the death
and he barks at trespassers
His eyes are big, bright remembering things
(blue beads that watch the fall)
For him, Blue Six-point-one is never far
and I think he'll keep on running
until he finds a place to rest
and a lady to love

~~~

Destiny is scratching at our door
I can hear its little claw paws
Let us feed it and find a way
to hold our souls up to the light
without seeing any wavy lines
or broken glass
We'll keep each other clean
and praise the shambles dawn

"7 Thoughts" by JB

2005-01-18T11:02:00.000-05:00

I live to linger in the late hours
clutching my talisman to my breast
(the bottle that is always full to me)
The anthracite evenin' is my armour.

~~~

Of late, the most curious thing has happened
(I dare not call it by name
because that is the surest way for it to disappear)
Roots take time to catch hold of the loamy soil.

~~~

She is pure and sad and beautiful
and many other things
I want to soothe her ailments
and hold her coat.

~~~

There was a man with a heavy pack
The straps dug down deep into his shoulders
He carried his life inside of it
When he put it down, he was free for a time.

~~~

We should dance wild in Loyola hallways
and kiss like our lips are made of oxygen
Come and inhabit my bed for a week
I can cook great fluffy crepes.

~~~

Some things creep up on us like vagrant waves
Completely random, like phantom gusts of East Wind
Personally, I don't resist the weather
I move right through the atoms like a renegade electron.

~~~

Be forewarned, my hands are thin typist-things
and I am a sporadic fuck-up, but I mean well...
The inside of your mind must be a carnival of dreams
I want to spend the day with you.

"To Jeffrey" by JB

2005-01-09T13:59:00.000-05:00

Every night, I go to my dreams guilty
Each day, I wake up forgiven

My soul is like a thousand onion peels
or a constantly-unravelling cassette tape

I want to send you
a Medium Message.

You say that you don't understand what I mean.
That disconnect is art in itself.

Your mind will paint the portrait it desires.
Our attempt to comprehend each other makes us all Picassos.

{Even the Milwaukee's Best-swilling, Nascar-watching
barbaric gang of Pleasure-Hunters

Even the quasi-Bohemian snuff-breathers who carry
around little hardcover notebooks and fear their own demise

Even the loveless Crescent Streeters in their 1000 Watt
Ritalin Paradise

Even the Old and Older folks whose pants are rising by the minute
and who can remember Johnny Carson jokes}

I realize that I am using broad strokes here
and you can always retort...

(insert one-size-fits-all "No Comprende" here)

but that is just A-OK.
We are [a: born / b: alive / c: dying / d: all of the above] alone

Suffice it to say that this lack of comprehension between us
makes words taste like red licorice.

~~~

Jello is Quite Evil, really.

2005-01-05T11:58:00.000-05:00

The New Years Dissonants show at Gordie's Loft (AKA Chez Gordie's) taught me several things about performing live, and about being in a band in general. These should be tattooed on one's arm (in 6 pt. Arial font, I suppose) so that their import won't be overlooked at any time.

Violations of these precepts should be punishable by extreme measures (OK, maybe not death, but something severe!). I will summarize them in Point Form, just like those corporate pigs at Maxim might, for enhanced readability!

1) Jello-Wrestling Ban: Although watching two lovely ladies grope and grapple in a tub full of Jello sounds like harmless fun, it will inevitably result in a Jello throwing match and equipment covered in red gelatinous mush. Jello is also very difficult to get out of one's hair and/or corduroys. Realistically, the Jello Ban should really be extended to all sticky food wrestling. (Jello is also made of animal bones so why eat it in the first place?)

2) Start the Gig Early: By the time our drummer graced us with his presence, it was close to 2:15 AM and most of our guests had already migrated to other bars/parties/afterhours and we were playing for a largely empty room. Only two hours earlier, we had close to a hundred people and things were looking rosy. If you tell people that your gig is going to start at 1 AM or so, try and be reasonable or else you'll be watching the tumbleweeds roll by. Also, if your whole band can't make it by a certain time, cancel the gig and severely guilt-trip the band member in question.

3) Two Beer Rule Must Be Enforced: When we hit the stage, our band was mostly drunk, myself included. This may be just fine for Musical Geniuses like Connor Oberst or the Libertines but it doesn't cut it for Rookies like our band. My lead guitarist was so intoxicated that at one point, he was kneeling on the floor and couldn't get up for fear of tumbling down in a heap. While I was severely intoxicated, at least I could stand up and play my parts. Since we started so late, it was to be expected that we would be boozed up by showtime, but this can't happen in the future. Also, drugs, although fun, will only make things harder to handle emotionally and deplete money that could pay for band practice or food.

4) Write More Songs and Stop Learning Covers: This can't be stressed enough. A band without songs is like a Bonobo monkey without sexual organs. If you are going to learn covers, make sure they're songs that are new and vital enough to warrant repeat playing show after show. Also, stay away from Mainstream Bullshit unless your band is a big fan of Nickelback or Evanescence. In my heart of hearts, I truly hope that my band will remain untainted by the stench of Middle-Ground Rock.

5) Don't Be Afraid To Institute a Fascist Intra-Band Regime: Democracy, while great for running nation states, doesn't work in families or in bands. The songwriter(s) should enforce their will through threats and cajoling because that is the only way to have a cohesive sound. If nobody can agree, that means that it is time to start a new band. While I am optimistic that the Dissonants will survive until our next gig (Dutchfest, Feb. 1st 2004, Venue still being negotiated), I can't predict whether we'll stay together for good. Luckily, we're (mostly) still friends in the band so we may just be able to sort out this band strife and make something good out of it all.

6) Bands Are Like Lovers, Only Without the Sex: Yes, people have feelings and you can't be too blunt or direct with your opinions. Always temper your criticism with some sort of compliment or else your band-mates will be building a trap full of Ponzi Sticks to impale you in no time. Plus, they're musicians, so if they make music, sometimes it is just a question of finding yourself in their creation. Fuck egos or trying to please everyone. Just give them a fair shake and you'll be surprised how good the final product can turn out. This can be ignored if the song sounds too Mainstream or Evanescentish; in this case, Rule 4 applies.

Happy New Years! What sort of resolutions did you make for the next 12 months? [Ed. Note: No more drugs for a long time!]

The Apple Of New Years Eve

2004-12-28T21:28:00.000-05:00

Do you have plans for Friday night? It's New Years Eve, dammit! Why waste $50 on tickets to a throbbing dance club full of beautiful, sweaty Montreal women far too drunk on all sorts of liquor? [Ed. Note: JB, you are the worst promoter I have ever laid my eyes on.] Why not forsake the techno and come to a kick-ass loft party? (BYO everything!)

Come to Chez Gordie's for a New Years Party you won't forget (or remember). There will be an open mic (for the aspiring musicians and guitar fiends out there), unholy amounts of beer will be consumed, and to round out the night, the Dissonants promise to play their first gig of 2005. Their sound has been compared by various observers as a cross between the Sex Pistols and Dinosaur Jr. [Ed. Note: I would argue that they're a hybrid of old school punk and folk music.] They have also promised some interesting covers, including one by Turbonegro and another by Wolf Parade. Tickets are free for everyone who can breathe.

~~~

Chez Gordie is located at St-Antoine and Atwater (not far from Lionel Groulx Metro). It's in the loft above Sheinhart's Dress Shop, just down the hill from the underpass. Doors will open at 9 PM. Contact me for more information.

2004

2004-12-28T18:12:00.000-05:00

was a Swedish foot that fell in the mud.
A rusty pair of skates
or maybe a guitar missing two strings.
I walked for thousands of miles
(from St-Laurent street to Angrignon Park
and back X 8 or 9)
but my legs aren't folding.

I can't say it was a bad year.
No deaths in the family.
Body sound
even though my mind is corroding
and losing sharpness.
School was jam slipping though my fingers
but I kept enough to feed on.
Music was a reason to Be.
Even when my heart is limping
the songs carry me on.
They are natural stimulants
and make tragedy seem edible.

I can't wait for 2005 though.

Baby, This Place is a SHAMBLES

2004-12-21T02:28:00.000-05:00

Run, don't jog, definately don't limp (!), whatever you do, just get your paws on a download/copy/etc. of Babyshambles - "Killamanjiro". It is a triumph, a tour de force if you will (as our Frenchifically-enhanced friends would say), and I had no choice but to tell you that this song Exists.. [Ed. Note: JB tells me he intended to put two periods on that sentence. He's trying to emphasize the point and I think he's just got too much Labatt Blue flowing around in there, somehow.]

Pete Doherty is the convicted felon responsible for this crime against bad music. His solo project Babyshambles has yet to release a proper album here in Canada (I can't seem to find it yet but I'm still hunting) but if this track is any indication, these Brits will raise their axes to the sky and rid the world of Rock Pretenders for at least a generation. [Ed. Note: Eternally optimistic, Jeremy Brendan is probably writing these outlandish hackfests from a dingy basement somewhere. Quit the bullshit. You're not a PR person, JB. They don't pay you. Actually, nobody pays you. Gotta go!]

Fuck my editor; I think that Pete deserves garlands around his head and a carriage to carry him straight through downtown London with Punk Rock music blaring at the front of his procession.

He makes me want to play music until both of my feet are in the grave.

Fuck the "crackhead" label or the caw caw cawing of Doherty's bandmates. After all, it is plain to see that they're just sods who rode his coat-tails into the Indie Rawk Ball; now that they realize his power, they've amputated him from their band and are hopping along like the pogoing bastards they are. Yes, I have a beef with the Libertines. Bring back Pete! He's your only hope that anyone outside of the Isles will ever listen to you.

It's all about the music that we create, we imbibe, we devour. Reputations are short-lived, but sounds resonate eternally.

The Dissonants Need your Help

2004-12-21T02:03:00.000-05:00

Completely-unknown rock band the Dissonants are making some big promises these days, and some of them may just happen to be true. They guarantee beer (in kegs), rocknroll (live and preferrably loud), and an interesting scene (Gordie's loft @ St. Antoine & Atwater, that place above Sheinhart's Dress Shop near Lionel Groulx, doors open @ 9 PM). Do them a favour and check it out. No cover so you've got nothing to lose except your time (and it won't be lost. It will be invested in the next best band you haven't heard yet!). contact me if you need further information or more specific directions.

Of course, being a part of said band means that I am a biased individual and in no way representative of what the Rock Critics would say. I'm just whoring myself out here, people. Don't take this as the word of God. I'm more like a prophet anyway. [Ed. Note: I would argue that you're a loss.]

====

In other news, I'm working at RadioShack a million trillion hours a week lately, trying to make some money for tuition. If you need batteries, Illico boxes, or electric massagers, please visit me at RadioShack Dorval (in Les Jardins Dorval, right near the highway & Dorval Terminus) and I won't give you a discount! Yes, that's right! No discount whatsoever.

====

Lastly, contrary to popular opinion, I am in no way, shape, or form a bunny rabbit. I may not be a zebra--I'm stripeless--and I'm definately not a lion, but I can assure you all that I'm not a bunny rabbit. Besides, I hate carrots. If I had the choice, I suppose I'd be a seagull; they're repulsive, tough as titanium, and they'll eat anything. Also, even if I am a hopeless romantic, there's no reason to forget I exist.

2004-12-14T07:37:00.000-05:00

Jeremy Brendan (This photo is just for the damned Blogger Profile, I have no other way of posting images to this accursed site).

2004-12-14T07:32:00.000-05:00

The Sellouts @ Louis VIII Bar, Montreal, PQ.

"Dimebag" Darrell Shot By Lunatic

2004-12-09T13:34:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was the 24th anniversary of John Lennon's assassination by a deranged fan. Two days before that, another nutjob named Mr. Lepine shot and killed a classroom full of women studying engineering, specifically targeting them because of their gender. Now, "Dimebag" Darrell is dead due to a crazed individual.

Darrell "Dimebag" Abbott, former lead guitarist of metal heavyweight Pantera, was playing the first song of a set with his new band Damageplan when a hooded man lept onto the stage and fired several shots at him from point blank range. The assailant also killed a bouncer, two fans from the crowd, and wounded two others.

Some might say that this is directly related to the celebrity culture that we live in; by placing all of our hopes and dreams on these strangers, when they make a decision that we don't agree with, some of the more deluded in the audience will go ballistic.

I think a good step would be to ban all handguns. They are useless. There is no way that America is safer because anyone can wander into a 7-ll and put a slug in the cashier's head.

Admittedly, in Canada, we do have some gun violence but this is often thwarted by security or police because it is hard to hide a rifle. Also, many of the gun deaths are related to our infamous biker wars (Hells vs. other gangs, etc.) so it is relatively safe up here in this cold wasteland.

I call on all rational individuals to contact their government leaders to demand a ban to all handguns. If you have ever listened to the Beatles or Pantera, you have two good reasons to pick up that phone.

Long live the Winter Session; the Fall Session is Dead

2004-12-03T14:57:00.000-05:00

As of Monday, my first semester of journalism at Concordia U. will be a done deal (aside from two exams which I'll hopefully coast through with straight-B's). Gone are the days of scurrying to the Loyola Computer Lab to slap together my Print assignments; no more sponging off of the People's Potato, that student-run collective that feeds free vegan meals to the less fortunate at Sir George William campus; I may even get to sleep in the weeks ahead!

I've learned several things from this semester. First of all, I'm a resilient bastard. When George W. pushes the Nuclear button because he thinks it's the remote for his Sony television, only I and the cockroaches will survive. I'm like a boxer who keeps limping to his feet as the ref calls out "eight...nine". (Should the period be within the quotation marks? Dammit, I need a copy editor, stat.)

Also, during the past three months, I fell in love, and before long, I got my heart sauteed and served with a side of grief. Did I learn anything from that car-wreck of a romance? If you feel something, don't lie to yourself. Make sure that you know what you're getting yourself into. Be completely honest. If you're a lover, love. If you're a hustler, hustle. Don't try to grow wings if you're meant to walk on the loamy soil. Love is a drug that only the very brave or very stupid should ever experiment with.

One feather in my cap is the band that I've played two gigs with. We're a curious lot but I think we have potential. There's no guarantee that we'll be able to translate that into something real but you never know. We played a gig @ Cafe Chaos (St-Denis, just below Bar St-Sulpice) and it went relatively well. I'll post some pics and music as soon as they become available, if any of you are curious and/or interested.

I'll end this self-indulgent navel gazing by saying "Happy Holidays" and keep your eyes focused on the moose in the middle of the highway. Good luck in the new year & let's all just agree to forget about November. That was one tootheache of a month.

Any thoughts? What was your November/Autumn/semester/etc. like? Let me know, below, in the comments section.

"Hush" by JB

2004-11-23T08:37:00.000-05:00

Hush you and hear my
atypical rant
Listen to this pathetic prophet
(a slave to modernity
and shackled to his image)
I've dreamed
things you've never seen
Flowers that grow in the most obscure places
Waking up beside you when the morning is new
Coffee made of sand
and painted lungs turning black
All beginnings and ends
The back of the train
A particular pause when your lips are like songs
Your hair climbing out from under your hat
And green empty eyes
with huge tearless pupils
This can't just be the end
or love is a well-marketed myth
Your absence condemns me
I need your grace
~~~
JB, 2004.

"The Healer" by JB

2004-11-21T01:20:00.000-05:00

I'm a victim of tragic rhythm
A drunken sop without a pen
I'm a physician who heals the pigeons
and chops the heads off all the hens
(JB. 2004)

Excuses, Alibis, and Explanations for my Scant Blogging of Late

2004-11-17T17:04:00.000-05:00

I haven't been maintaining this blog for some time. It is like a rickety barn barely standing, with holes in the windows from stones pelted by local hooligans and a door hanging on by a rusty hinge. Luckily, this lack of online activity is due to a flurry of real-life existence which has appeared from out of the fog in the past few weeks. I'm not keeping my blog warm and well-fed because:

I'm in a band. Formerly called the Sellouts, we are in the process of finding a new name. We're also auditioning for a singer although I have a sinking feeling that this may just induce me to jump ship, since I want to sing. (Sadly, I suck vocally but my heart is in the right place) Regardless, we played our first gig @ Louis VIII on Friday night and it was a raucous success, despite a bizarre legion of moshing pals who knocked over equipment, spilled beer on my dear mother, and nearly bashed her over at one point. The ringleader, who happens to be a good (if constantly inebriated) friend of mine, eventually got picked up by the throat and tossed into a large P.A. speaker. Since we were playing punk rock (Turbonegro, etc!), it was a decent set but I don't think we'll be invited back to the Louis for quite some time. I'll keep you posted regarding our next gig, if we haven't already been blacklisted as a bunch of troublemakers.

I'm trying to survive Journalism school. I'm studying at Concordia and this semester has been both rewarding and mortally terrifying. I have enough papers to write in the two weeks ahead to make Noam Chomsky hide in a broom closet and sob uncontrollably. Also, I have to catch up on all the reading that I neglected to do because of the next point...

I party like an escaped felon. The other day, I was nursing a Boreale Blonde beer when I realized that I invest a large part of my time and money into getting royally fucked up. This is not a good thing. Since I haven't gotten my student loan yet, I've been neglecting my bills and yet, somehow, keeping my eyes pink and glossy almost daily. Also, I am out in pubs several times a week (Reggie's or Cock 'n Bull Pub on Tuesdays) so booze is also absorbing part of my life like a Scott Towel. My liver probably looks like a piece of tenderized beef.

I write for the Link. This one is sort of a weak excuse because I haven't really written anything for the Concordia Link since my Blackspot article. Googlers can read it if they so choose; it will even reveal my true name, since everyone knows that Jeremy Brendan was but a "Nom de Plume". (And no, I didn't choose that God-Awful headline!)

Suffice it to say that I will return to this blog when I can focus on it with the attention it deserves. Until then, please read Google News or Salon.com (or other blogs like the ones in my sidebar!). I'll be back, just like the Governor of California once said in some Hollywood blockbuster that made millions for a bunch of rich white guys.

------

On a side note, do you read "Exclaim!"? They published my letter in their November issue (remember? the one I posted on JB regarding Michael Barclay's failure to reference my interview with the Arcade Fire properly...also, I complained about how they put a picture of Wolf Eyes instead of Wolf Parade). Revenge is Nutrasweet.

Into the Lion's Den

2004-11-10T13:55:00.000-05:00

According to UPI, Coalition Forces have conquered about 70 percent of Falluja.

A psych-ops unit was broadcasting the following message to the Iraqi insurgents holed up in many of the houses near the downtown core:

"Brave terrorists, I am waiting here for the brave terrorists. Come and kill us. Plant small bombs on roadsides. Attention, attention, terrorists of Fallujah."

I don't really know how many Iraqis will be lured outside by such a message. It makes me wonder if the U.S. Military has any good sense at all. They would be better off playing GWAR or N*Sync at high decibels from their psych-ops loudspeakers. I can picture the Iraqis running out of their foxholes with their hands in the air.

You Can Lead a Southerner to Vote but You Can't Make Him Think

2004-11-04T18:58:00.000-05:00

The election is over. The bad guys won. At least it's not a Hollywood ending.

I can't really blame Ohio or Florida for their twisted electoral logic. To do so would ignore the middle of America, that big empty wasteland full of gay-hatin', God-lovin', gun-totin' folks who don't appreciate men who speak French. I know that I'm painting with a wide brush over here but how else can I rationalize the results of this Duo-Party-Winner-Take-All Gang-rape of American democracy?

The American Election was about Faith Inc. versus Reason and it looks like America is very faithful. Religion is fine in my books but when you mix it with politics, you're unknowingly producing a chemical not unlike TNT. The terrorists will love the Bush victory--they're already putting clips of Dubya smiling with all his teeth in their recruitment videos--and the Dems have been neutered and chained to a wall somewhere.

Bush is already busy making his tax cuts permanent. Instead of ending in 2011, they will go on unchecked for as long as a Republican holds the White House keys. America, when your son/daughter/father gets drafted and sent to some God-forsaken desert enclave to get shot at by AK-47 wielding maniacs, just remember in your heart of hearts that your country had a choice, and 51 percent of your fellow Americans chose wrong.

Hillary in 2008! Hope springs eternal like the American National Debt!

Vote

2004-11-02T01:38:00.000-05:00

Kerry.

Bush put you in debt. He put your troops in harm's way for shifting, flip-floppish reasons. He squandered America's international standing like no other President in history. He assisted Al-Q'aida's recruitment efforts by bombing Iraq when they had nothing to do with 9/11. He changed the laws to permit the government to know where you buy your books and what you told your doctor. He held innocent men captive in a concentration camp (Guantanamo Bay Prison) although none of them have ever been prosecuted as true terrorists. He let Osama Bin Laden get away. Should I go on?

I must. Bush gave tax cuts to the wealthy and signed a deal that would enrich the pharmaceutical companies in the years to come. He gutted the Clean Air Act and allowed polluters to write the legislation that should regulate their polluting ways. He threatened to ban gay marriage and then chided John Kerry for mentioning that Dick Cheney's daughter is gay (and that it's OK because she's a good person). Bush never visited the NAACP. He didn't remove Donald Rumsfeld despite the human rights abuses that appear to be systemic across Iraq's American prisons.

I could continue until I'm blue in the face but why bother? I can't vote in this election because I'm a Montrealer eh? Still, I figured I might as well take one last crack at convincing you.

If you're an American, prove to the world that you can make a sound decision. John Kerry is not perfect but when you compare him to George W. Bush, he looks like John the Baptist.

Vote Kerry, please. I'll beg if I must.

(I support Kerry)

Eminem Sees a Burning Bush

2004-10-26T11:52:00.000-04:00

Multi-platinum-selling rapper Eminem, never a stranger to controversy, has taken a swipe at Bush in the final week of the U.S. Presidential election. A video of the song "Mosh" was leaked to Gnn.tv today but it appears that the server is overloaded because I can't access it right now.

According to Salon.com, Eminem has decided to vote for the first time in his life specifically because of George W. Bush and his Neoconservative administration. Contrary to his song from the Slim Shady LP, Eminem finally "gives a fuck" and will vote Kerry on November 2nd.

What will the critics think of this song? I'm not sure if Eminem will ever be remembered as a neo-Dylan lyrically, or even as a Great Rapper (on par with Biggy, Tupac, or Nas), but one good point about this song is that Eminem seems hungry again. Bush has that effect on people; he's certainly a uniter, only Bush tends to drive his opponents together. He's like a matchmaker for progressives, leftists, union members, city-folk, and academes. Bush being in office is the best thing that ever happened to the Left in America because it gave them a reason to fight again; he is the perfect Darth Vader for them to oppose. [Ed. Note: That is debatable. Please feel free to comment below if you think JB is going too far.]

Reading Eminem's lyrics, I was overcome with a sense of gratitude. Instead of just making his money and threatening gays/his mother/other rappers, Em has taken a political stand; for once, we can't accuse him of limited subject matter.

(Excerpt from Eminem- "Mosh")

"Imagine it pouring, it's raining down on us,
Mosh pits outside the oval office
Someone's trying to tell us something, maybe this is God just saying
we're responsible for this monster, this coward, that we have empowered
This is Bin Laden, look at his head nodding,
How could we allow something like this, Without pumping our fist
Now this is our, final hour
Let me be the voice, and your strength, and your choice
Let me simplify the rhyme, just to amplify the noise
Try to amplify the times it, and multiply it by six
Ten million people are equal of this high pitch
Maybe we can reach Al Q'aida through my speech
Let the President answer on high anarchy
Strap him with AK-47, let him go
Fight his own war, let him impress daddy that way
No more blood for oil, we got our own battles to fight on our soil
No more psychological warfare to trick us to think that we ain't loyal
If we don't serve our own country we're patronizing a hero
Look in his eyes, it's all lies, the stars and stripes
They've been swiped, washed out and wiped,
And Replaced with his own face, mosh now or die
If I get sniped tonight you'll know why, because I told you to fight

So come along, follow me as I lead through the darkness
As I provide just enough spark, that we need to proceed
Carry on, give me hope, give me strength,
Come with me, and I won't stear you wrong
Put your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog
Till the light, at the end, of the tunnel, we gonna fight,
We gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march through the swamp
We gonna mosh through the marsh, take us right through the doors

[Eminem speaking angrily]
And as we proceed, to mosh through this desert storm, in these closing statements, if they should argue, let us beg to differ, as we set aside our differences, and assemble our own army, to disarm this weapon of mass destruction that we call our president, for the present, and mosh for the future of our next generation, to speak and be heard, Mr. President, Mr. Senator"

Eminem is no Winston Churchill but he may encourage some of the youth voters to mark their ballots. His heart is definately in the right place, anyhow. Marshall Mathers III may have his personal issues but at least he's trying to make a difference for once. Kerry now has Bill Clinton and Eminem watching his back. Still, I think that Bush and Cheney are more appropriately "Thugs for Life".

Kerry Interviewed in RS; Iran Endorses Bush for Pres.

2004-10-20T14:28:00.000-04:00

"Did you get angry at Bush personally?

Look, I know politics is tough, and I don't spend a lot of time worrying about what they do to me. But I do worry, and I am angry, about what they do to the American people. That's what this race is about. It's not about me. I can take it -- I don't care. I've been in worse things. I was on those boats -- I got shot at. I can handle it."
Jann Wenner interviews John Kerry for Rolling Stone Magazine, RS 961, Nov. 11th.

Kerry is certainly getting targeted by the Karl Rove Patrol of Republican politicos and PR flacks. This is not to imply that he's being very positive in his campaign, though. John Kerry is a master of the home stretch; he has repeatedly seized electoral victories when everyone else counted him out.

I'm getting so tired of following this elaborate election campaign. Contrary to the month-long Canadian electoral cycle, Bush and Kerry have been trying to bash each other's heads in since March of 2004. I have been reading everything I can get my hands on since the first Democratic primaries, in Dean's glory days. For awhile, it even looked like Wesley Clark might be the former soldier facing Bush in the debates. Instead, Kerry's connections and "safe-harbour" image won the day. If I must concede one thing, it is that John Kerry is not the solution to every American problem. He won't heal the disabled and make them walk. He probably won't win the war on terror (Bush admitted in an interview that it might be impossible to win, anyhow). He's no Jebus.

What John Kerry will do is give the U.S. an image boost. Bush is the most hated American president in history, capable of summoning millions of protesters in streets around the world, just to burn him in effigy and spit on his photo. Anti-American feelings have reached an untold level and even traditional allies like Canada are against Bush.

The point is, if you want to beat the terrorists, you need your friends and allies to respect your leader. I'm not talking "global test" here; I just believe that George W. Bush is a failure of a man who has offended a large segment of the world with his pre-emptive strikes and his bizarre foreign policy gaffes. He also put the U.S. into debt so far that future generations will still be paying for his economic mistakes.

One silver lining for Bush is that Iran announced today that they have endorsed him for President. Iran? Weren't they that country in the "Axis of Evil"? I need a fucking Tylenol.

Vote Kerry if you believe in America. Vote Bush if you believe in four more years of economic decline and perpetual war.

Jon Stewart Gives CNN's Crossfire a Punch in the Kidneys

2004-10-15T23:33:00.000-04:00

(Courtesy of Wonkette)

If you've ever seen an episode of Crossfire, you'll get a chuckle out of this transcript. Jon Stewart, host of Comedy Central's Daily Show, takes a few well-aimed shots at one of the most fraudulent debate shows on television. He also mocks Tucker Carlson's bow-tie.

I say forget John Kerry. If I were American, I'd consider forgetting this election and convincing Jon Stewart to run for president in 2008! Imagine the hilarious wisecracks during the State of the Union address. Maybe he could get Conan O'Brien to be his running mate.

I agree with Jon Stewart; Crossfire is a stomping ground for seasoned political pundits who spit bile from opposing sides of the field. Even the Democrats who appear on Crossfire can't be defended because they resort to the same partisan bullshit. Every time we get close to a meaningful debate, the bell rings and silences everyone, ruining any chance of anybody formulating a nuanced argument. One liners and baseless allegations abound. Jon Stewart may have put it best:

"BEGALA: Well, it's because, see, we're a debate show.

STEWART: No, no, no, no, that would be great.

BEGALA: It's like saying The Weather Channel reduces everything to a storm front.

STEWART: I would love to see a debate show.

BEGALA: We're 30 minutes in a 24-hour day where we have each side on, as best we can get them, and have them fight it out.

STEWART: No, no, no, no, that would be great. To do a debate would be great. But that's like saying pro wrestling is a show about athletic competition."

In this corner, we have Paul Begala, ready to accuse Bush of devouring fetuses or chopping up baby seals with a hunting knife. In this corner, we have Tucker Carlson, eternally forgiving of Bush's numerous political gaffes, but certain to vilify and desecrate John Kerry with a volley of defaming insinuations, reprimands, and insults. And they call themselves journalists? (Do they? Not sure of that one)

When Tucker Carlson tried to patronize Stewart by saying "...you need to get a job at a journalism school, I think," Stewart replied, "You need to go to one." My thoughts exactly!

If you're deprived of cable or satellite (like I am), visit The Daily Show with Jon Stewart website for free clips of their program. Stephen Colbert has to be one of the funniest mofos on the planet.

Proto-Fascists From Denmark Support Bush

2004-10-15T09:03:00.000-04:00

Associated Press is reporting that Bush has a slight edge over Kerry after the final debate. Can we expect another four years of ~~peace~~? Hmmm...no, that's not right. ~~Prosperity~~?...what about ~~fiscal restraint~~? Er, no.

Luckily for the Bush campaign, a couple of Europeans with viking helmets full of dreams are driving across the Lower 48 in an RV; yes, they're called "Danes for Bush" and they love the American leader. Hell, their website links to his campaign page with the slogan "Hail to the Chief!". (Last time Denmark was occupied, they had to "heil" to a "chief" also. Sadly, he was the architect of a massive genocide and a sick fuck to boot. I guess these Danes haven't read their history books.)

Ever vigilant versus "the enemy within", they label their fellow Danes as turncoats due to their contempt for the Abu Ghraib scandal:

"For anybody who loves freedom reading the Danish newspapers is a depressing exercise. Traditionally staunch and wise intellectuals, who normally take a proud stand against the overwhelming influence exerted by left-wing sentimentalists on Danish politics, have suddenly exposed themselves as big-time turncoats.

In an interview in the national Danish newspaper Berlingske Tidende, personalities such as Ditlev Tamm, Claes Kastholm Hansen, Henning Fonsmark, Ulrik Høy and Bent Jensen disavow their once steadfast support to he Coalition of the Willing and the fight to bring democracy, peace and prosperity to the people of Iraq.

Not realising that you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, the few irregularities which took place in the Abu Ghraib Prison in Iraq have managed to topple their belief in the global War Against Terror. “I am angry, I feel deceived,” says Claes Kastholm Hansen to the newspaper, regarding the mismanagement of Abu Ghraib. Shame on Claes Kasthom Hansen and his band of sissies, might we add."
[Ed. Note: Italics mine!]

"Save us from Old Europe!" their website pleads. Why should anyone "save" them? The CIA World Factbook 2004 describes Denmark as a pretty nice place to live.

"This thoroughly modern market economy features high-tech agriculture, up-to-date small-scale and corporate industry, extensive government welfare measures, comfortable living standards, a stable currency, and high dependence on foreign trade."

The Danes for Bush "road team" consists of two intellectuals who operate out of Copenhagen; Mads Cortzen and Jacob Boeschou. Cortzen apparently "...studied rhetoric at Copenhagen University and knows how to deliver a speech which is right on the money." Boeschou "likes to quote Adam Smith and is an avid collector of various military artefacts (sic) from The Second World War." I wonder if he collects allied artifacts, or does he have a bunch of tea sets with little swastikas and Iron Crosses on them?

I'm not 100 percent sure whether or not this is a big joke or some sort of psychological experiment being conducted by some twisted Danish psychologist. Can this NGO group be real? What do you think? Will the enormous inflatable sausage mascot influence you to vote Bush on November 2nd? If so, please excuse me as I swig a bottle of Rye and cry softly in the nearest available corner.

Ré / Création: Where Literature and Music Are Connected

2004-10-12T08:08:00.000-04:00

Calling all French-speaking literary fans and anyone seeking a good internet radio show! If you dig bands like Bright Eyes, Arcade Fire, Arab Strap, or anything else "exponential", check out the online radio show Ré/Création hosted by Anouck Vigneau and Geneviève Bouchard. Focusing on literature and its relation to other art forms, listeners are encouraged to submit questions or comments which will be addressed in next week's show.

Ré/Création airs every Wednesday from 11 AM to Noon. This week, Anouck won't be able to make it but Geneviève has a good show planned. Jeremy Brendan will be manning the soundboard to the best of his ability, so when you hear those buttons being pushed, you'll know that he really exists. JB will try his best to convince Geneviève to put on a Julie Doiron song (and if we're lucky, she might even allow an Ed Harcourt track!).

Bring your thinking caps and a nice hot cup of coffee. If you can't listen when the show is live, don't forget that it is archived on the Ré/Création website. If you don't speak French, now is a good time to learn. Vive la musique qui allume la flamme éternel, qui lève mon âme vers le ciel!

Album Review: Arcade Fire- "Funeral"

2004-10-11T16:55:00.000-04:00

Rating: 4.7 out of 5
~ ~ ~ { } {} { } ~ ~ ~
In early September, I contacted Merge Records and requested a Promo copy of the AF's "Funeral". They were kind enough to send me one poste-haste and I received it close to two weeks later. Perhaps it is telling that not only did the first pressing of the CD sell out across North America (the second press which should arrive in stores very soon), I got the promo cd stolen by a former DJ at Reggie's Pub (you know who you are, dark haired girl with the pigtails!).

Luckily, prior to the maddeningly-ironic theft, I listened to it reverently over a period of several days and its songs have been comitted to my memory. Once you hear these tunes, you won't soon forget them, either. Bold and effortless, "Funeral" is not a droopy, depressing affair like the name might suggest; it is more like a wake where life's little miracles are celebrated and remembered.

The first track "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" starts with Win Butler strumming insistently and exploring his quivery, confident vocal range. "Purify the colors / purify my mind / and spread the ashes of the colors / over this heart of mine" sings Win as the song builds to an anthemic denoument. After I heard this song played at high volume, I could feel the weight of my troubles being lifted from my shoulders.

Three of the songs are entitled Neighborhood but the strongest may be the second track, "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)". Spectral-voyage harmonics and chanted vocals in the first verse build up the tension when Sarah Neufeld's violin begins to leap out at you. Meanwhile, Régine's accordion holds the song together like silken string. "Laika" evokes images of a drug-addicted brother battling with his parents, much to the amusement of his voyeuristic neighbors. "When Daddy comes home, you'll start a fight / so the neighbors can dance / in the police disco lights". Utilitarians at heart, the whole band chides Alex for his indulgent behaviour by singing "It's for your own good / it's for the neighborhood".

"Crown of Love" sounds vaguely like a Bright Eyes song, only Win is closer to the prairies than he knows. I can even hear traces of Neil Young in his voice, even though Mr. Butler prefers Motown or soul music. When the band changes time near the end of the tune, the sadness of the track dissipates and the sun shines all over the place.

"Wake Up" may be in the running for "Song of the Year". Live, it is without rival, but they managed to trap that unknown quantity for the record. It begins with a haunting "Whoa" chorus which sounds almost like a Native American prayer, dispelling bad omens and inviting us to free ourselves from the trap of Western Living. "Children / Wake up / hold your / mistake up / before they / turn the summer into dust!" Win intones. "We're just a million little gods / causing rain storms!" "Wake Up" never fails to send a chill down my spinal column, reminding me that I'm mortal and that I must devour every single moment of my life.

There are several other keepers on "Funeral". "Rebellion (Lies)" always makes me think of the Pixies trying to cover a lost David Bowie song. Other reviewers have likened Win's voice to David Byrne but I must plead ignorance on this question (I've never even listened to the Talking Heads before, but so what if he does? Great bands don't crawl out of a Dirt Devil.) "In the Backseat" gives us a solemn Régine wishing that she could go back to the innocence of being young and unaware, before her family tree began to "lose all it's leaves". Her voice is like a kitten hiding beneath the sofa, gentle and wary of strangers, but full of love and sadness. The only stumble on "Funeral" is possibly the track "Haiti", if only because the guitar riff sounds cribbed from the Bloodhound Gang's "Fire Water Burn".

With all the critical acclaim that this album has received, it is tempting to kick over the sand castle and call "Funeral" several bad names. Personally, I couldn't care less about what the Pitchforks and Rolling Stones of the world think about the AF, because this band is as gifted as it is prolific (they wrote over 100 songs in the past few years but only recorded an EP & an LP) and they shall never be defeated. "Funeral" is a multi-tonal, bombastic compilation of unnatural musical beauty. Hands down, this is the best CD to touch my fingers in at least 5 years; like a cobweb in a doorway glistening with dew, "Funeral" will moisten your eyes and stick to your heart for ages.

For track samples, you can always visit their Allmusic.com album review or the Arcade Fire's website.

Live: The Paperbacks, Trailer, & the Weakerthans @ Club Soda, October 1st

2004-10-06T13:12:00.000-04:00

Forgive me for taking so long to write this post; I've been suffering from a bad case of malaise since I saw the Weakerthans show on Friday night. My heart has been ground into paste and my eyes are sunken into my head. I feel like I witnessed the death of something pure.

Having scored some great seats--upper gallery, left side of the stage, right beside the Bose speakers--my pals and I were expecting a tour de force. Although we hadn't heard the two opening bands before, I was hoping that the mystical ability of John K. Samson would inspire the openers to do something magical. First up were a band from Winnipeg. The lead singer was very chatty and explained that he got the gig because he grew up with the Weakerthans. Tragically, the Paperbacks turned out to be a rehashed Sum 41/Dashboard Confessional purveyor of pop-punkisms. As the lead singer hopped around like a one-legged penguin, my friend Gen kept repeating "these guys suck." Although I wasn't ready to condemn them quite yet, it was only a matter of time.

Although their tunes are pleasant, the Paperbacks lack the heart and soul to be real punks. Instead, we have a singer who croons about how no girls love him, a bass player who thinks that he's in Limp Bizkit, a lead guitarist who hides in the background and tries his best to remain stoic while the ship is sinking, and a pretty good drummer. Yes, the man on the skins was the only one in the band who belonged up there; he actually looked like he had something to prove, bellowing into his microphone while keeping the beat, and that is the one saving grace of the Paperbacks.

When your drummer overshadows the rest of your band, it is time to start thinking about going into the insurance business. Another option for these guys is to give up the punk pretense and stick to soft rock, or perhaps start a record label and give their equipment to the first band they sign.

Next up was the local band Trailer. "Don't worry," I told Gen, "I'm sure these guys are going to rock." She nodded and sipped her Boreale Blonde. I could see the doubt in her eyes. According to the Pop Montreal site, Trailer play "(a) perfect mix of blues sensitivity and pop bliss." They sounded more confident than the opening act and their instrumentation was more diverse. Not unlike Wilco at some points, I must say that their countrified psychadelia was very well received by the crowd and I was digging their sound.

At one point, the violin player sat down at the piano and her voice reminded me of Ani DiFranco or possibly Tori Amos. Although their songs began to blend together into a seamless whole, I was fairly happy with their set, at least until the bizarre ode to Jesus and his saving graces in the last song (which was good but made my skin crawl--I don't respond well to preaching, unless it is from the Violent Femmes).

Then, the Weakerthans took the stage. The place was full by now and the crowd was elated, applauding wildly. I sat on the edge of my seat and waited for rain. I'm still waiting.

Before the show, I was ranting to Gen and Nick about how John K. Samson is a true poet. "He is the second coming of Leonard Cohen," I told them. I was ready to deify the poor guy. To their mutual annoyance, I rambled on and on about the way "Elegy for Elsabet" made me cry the first time I heard it. With a build-up like that, it is no small wonder that we were all let down.

John K. was chewing gum flippantly and playing as if he had punched a clock. I clenched my teeth and hoped that this was just a stumble. "They're just warming up," I thought. The first few songs were fast and hard but something was missing. The Weakerthans sound so humble and brave on their albums that I expected to hear something wonderful and anthemic at their live show. Instead, I had speedy pop-punkisms and a couple of older songs thrown in to pacify the rowdy fans in the back who didn't want to hear the new material.

"Aside" sounded fairly good but it didn't colour outside any lines. It was a connect-the-dots hit song, played efficiently like a German symphony, but without any chutzpah or joy. I flailed my head wildly, hoping that this song would be the beginning of a raucous second half of the set. Instead, it was the high-water mark of the show, and everything dribbled downhill from there.

Although I stayed for both encores, I felt a deep sense of loss by the end of the night. The shrine I had built to the Weakerthans in my head had been smashed by barbarian invaders. Live, they underwhelmed me. They're not hungry anymore. Sampson seemed bored and closed up on stage. Although his bandmates trudged on through the songs, he didn't seem to show any signs of joy, except maybe during the encores. Secretly, I wished that I had gone to the Unicorns show instead. It isn't enough to play your songs; you have to display them with passion, or pride, or something, anything except ho-hum consistency. The fact that I was sober was even more damning, because I didn't have the artificial flavouring of drunkeness to camouflage the awful taste in my mouth.

Maybe this was only an aberration; perhaps Samson was just having a rough night. Still, I have this sinking feeling that I should have seen them when they weren't famous, when they weren't getting stunning reviews in Exclaim; I can't go back in time but I wish I could. On Friday night, one of my favourite bands was stolen from me and replaced with a cynical, loveless group of imposters, incapable of changing the world. I expected more from the Weakerthans and that is why I got burned. I think I'm going to drink a bottle of whiskey now.

Jeremy Brendan Complains to Teacher, Invites Further Bullying

2004-10-03T22:00:00.000-04:00

My vitriol is unmatched! I am a white-hot ball of blogging fury! Exclaim has gone too far and now I'm sick and tired of sitting on my hands (They're getting sweaty under there, anyhow). Witness the hateful riposte I flung at Exclaim magazine tonight from my Operamail account:

Dear Exclaim!,

As a fervent admirer of your publication, I turned the other cheek when your profile on the Arcade Fire (Sept. '04) referenced my interview without proper attribution. I know that everyone hates bellyachers so I bit my lip and kept quiet, despite the way Michael Barclay called my blog a "fanzine". That was a real kick in the jewels.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the October issue of Exclaim and discovered that you wrote about another one of my favourite bands, Wolf Parade, only to post the wrong picture to accompany the write-up! I'm not sure who that is with the guitar string in his mouth--it could be Spencer, only he's a keyboardist--but you can be sure it isn't Dan, the guitarist & lead vocalist of WP.

This kind of amateurish journalism is what makes me want to quit the whole writing thing and become a hermit somewhere in Appalaicha. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Despicably Yours,
Jeremy Brendan
"Jeremy Brendan--My Life as a Reptile"
http://jeremybrendan.blogspot.com

P.S. I still love y'all but redress is in order, wouldn't you say?

We shall see if they have the cojones to publish it in their "Letters" section. I would be satisfied with a simple correction in a future issue, although a job would be even better. Yes, I am a fucking sell-out. I would cut off my left leg to write for a vital Can-rock magazine like Exclaim.

Still, the email wasn't intended to earn me a spot on their masthead; I just want to see some justice from these navel-gazing scenesters. I am a modern-day John Wilkes, if you will. Let us see if the number 45 gets scrawled on the bathroom walls of Exclaim offices in the near future. Brendan and liberty!

[Ed. Note: JB, how do you expect to get their attention when you're parading around these twenty-dollar words like a pretentious Ontarian? "Redress"? What the fuck? Stick to rock criticism and let the big boys run their business.]

Bush Vs. Kerry: The First Debate

2004-10-01T01:42:00.000-04:00

As I watched Bush dodge Kerry's constant attacks and accusations on CNN tonight, I couldn't help but think of a Bright Eyes song called "Bottom of Everything (We Must Sing)". When he played it live on television (I think it was on Late Night with Conan O'Brien), lead singer Connor Oberst said "This song is going out to the President and to the Governor of California...two men that I admire a lot...for their biceps and their creepy fascist agendas! One, two, six, six six..." before breaking into song. Could Oberst be a modern-day Bob Dylan? You tell me:

"We must talk in every telephone, get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues from the books that we have read
and in the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair
we must stare, we must stare, we must stare

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
and in the ear of every anarchist who sleeps but doesn't dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing

While my mother waters plants, my father loads his gun
He says death will give us back to God just like setting sun
is returned to the lonesome ocean"

Although I've chopped out at least one verse and a modified final chorus, I hope that you can see how this song would be relevant in contemporary America. "Don't vote for the Dems or Osama is going to getcha!" the GOP screeches, without considering that it was under a Republican's watch that the most devastating terror attack transpired. They are selling fear and I hope America won't buy it.

I know that some people are convinced that Kerry is a flip-flopper. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. If you were steering your vehicle into a ditch, wouldn't it make sense to jerk the wheel in the other direction? Bush might say "remain steadfast and don't change course" but quite frankly, that is the equivalent of saying that a President's decisions are both infallible and static. How can you run a nation (and protect them from harm's way) if you can't even admit when you're wrong?

Say what you will about the late Ronald Reagan, but at least he had the balls to stand up and admit his responsibility for the Contra affair. I hope that Americans remember this when they go to the polls on November 1st.

A paranoid part of me wants to believe that the whole Iraq War in 2003 was just a diversion tactic by the Bush Administration to draw attention away from economic woes, those notorious tax cuts (and elimination of the dividend tax), and Bush's failure to capture Osama Bin Laden. If you conduct a search of the Whitehouse official site, you will find that the last mention of Bin Laden was back in July! Of course, can you blame Bush? He's busy being a war president.

John Kerry looked fairly confident in the debate but I was frightened by echoes of famous Democratic loser Michael Dukakis, as Kerry spoke. Kerry may have come across as a mean-spirited fellow, not a fence-mending rancher/Marlboro man like George W. Bush or his template Ronald Reagan. Kerry did get some jabs in about Bush's lack of military service and he also played his experienced leader/fresh start card several times. Bush looked befuddled frequently and had some issues with the English language, but he is like a sidewinder. He always gets away.

The funny thing is that Bush and Reagan do have something in common--they both avoided military service. Reagan got off because he was an actor while Bush escaped from Vietnam because he had a wealthy father. Some guys get all the breaks.

[Ed. Note: Looks like Kerry is back in this thing. A USA Today poll suggests that Kerry was perceived as a good speaker and many people (including those crucial "swing voters") are beginning to believe that JFK might be up to the task of running the country. Bush, on the other hand, looked slightly disturbed by many of the questions. Also, he repeated himself quite frequently and even spouted a couple of illogical statements. Also, how many times can you repeat that being President is "hard work"? Pleasure Captains.com has posted a video entitled "How Bush did" which is somewhat humourous but fairly revealing of Bush's poor showing. Admittedly, they've chopped up some of his responses (which is a form of propaganda, taking things out of context) but many of the statements are bizarre on their own, context be damned. Watch the video on their site and come back to let me know if you think that Bush has hurt his chances of re-election.]

What did you think of the first Presidential debate? Did Bush hold his ground? Does Kerry have any momentum going into the next debate? Please comment below!

Live: Arcade Fire @ Salvation Army Citadel, Sat. Sept. 25th

2004-09-29T23:53:00.000-04:00

I've never been to a concert completely sober before. That is, of course, unless you count my pre-boozy days as a child, but that's just nit-picking. Point is, it generally takes a couple of beers to get me in the rock 'n roll mood. Last Saturday, that just wasn't necessary. Perhaps I've been saved.

The Arcade Fire get way too much attention from this blog but I can't help it--they give off that cult vibe like the Causey Way, only AF fans don't try to spike the Kool-Aid; musically, they are both challenging and accessible, meaning they can speak to the cool kids and to the geeks simultaneously; above all, their songwriting is pure orchestrated sonic alchemy, mixing that indie thing with elements of soul, 60's rock, 80's post-rock, and even occasionally a countrified flavour (witness the beginning of "Crown of Love" from their Funeral LP to see what I mean).

When I heard that they were going to play in a church, I was a little bit hesitant and kind of wary. I half expected them to announce that all along, they were really a Christian rock band and that we were all being baptised in the name of our Saviour. Bizarre thoughts like this would make any self-respecting agnostic shudder. Luckily, they just wanted a room with great acoustics. The show was pure and cultivated and we didn't mind that the lights were on. In fact, I've never seen 600 Montreal rock fans go so long without a cigarette.

(Salvation Army Logo)

On the stage, there was an engraving that read "Redeemed". Their keyboard was a "Prophet 6000". As they played their virtuosic double-bill (the opening band couldn't make it!), I couldn't help but notice the Salvation Army flag in the corner that read "Blood and Fire". Despite the odd surroundings, they kept the crowd on its feet for the whole show. I couldn't help but sing along to several of the songs, to the disappointment of many concert-goers around me.

Highlights were all over the place like Couche-Tards, but I'd have to say that "Wake Up" was the song of the night. "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" was also very well done, although my friend Gen preferred "Rebellion (Lies)". "No Cars Go" never fails to disappoint either.

Régine showed off her honed singing skills (she sounds more confident than the last time I saw her on stage) and the crowd was musically pacified. "In the Backseat" turned out to be one of their better songs, even though it didn't stand out when I listened to "Funeral". [Ed. Note: As soon as I track down the DJ from Reggie's Pub, who accidentally nabbed my Promo Copy, I will post a review of "Funeral" on JB.] Plaintive and moody, it built up slowly but surely, until cascading into a powerful crescendo near the end of the song.

(Photo courtesy of the Montreal Mirror)

Admittedly, the AF are not for everyone. If you listen to Simple Plan or anything formulaic, you may have trouble with AF songs. If you are a hip-hop backpacker, this may not turn your crank (unless you dig soul music or luminaries like K-OS). Likewise, if you are like my cousin and can't appreciate a band if they're local, keep the line moving and thanks for stopping by. No offense if you're from the preceeding categories. You're people too.

Here is a nice set of Arcade Fire photos from the live show. [Ed. Note: Kudos to Dirty Water for the snazzy shots!] If you're sick and tired of listening to canned music being pissed out of 4000 watt speakers at your local techno orifice, I would suggest that you attend an Arcade Fire show. Salvation can be bought after all; it only cost me eight bucks on Saturday.

The Arcade Fire are on tour! New Yorkers and Bostonians are being spoiled by two fine bands for the price of one--the Hidden Cameras are orgasmically talented. Anyone who sings a line like "The drugs get dealt / and the cocks get felt / on the church grounds" deserves your undivided attention.
===

Sun 9/26
Black Sheep Inn,
Wakefield, Quebec
(25 minutes north of Ottawa)

Wed 9/29
Kingston ON,
TBA

Thurs. 9/30
The Trasheteria (Club Vinyl)
Guelph, ON
w/The Barmitvah Bros.

Fri. 10/01
Lee's Palace
Toronto, ON
w/Bell Orchestre

Sat. 10/02
The Underground,
Hamilton ON
w/Bell Orchestre & Heston Rifle

Wed. 10/13
CMJ Merge Records Showcase
(Mercury Lounge)
New York, NY

11/5
Halifax Pop Explosion
Halifax, NS
The Marquee
w/The Organ

11/11
Bowery Ballroom
New York, NY
w/ The Hidden Cameras

11/12
T.T. the Bears
Boston, MA
w/The Hidden Cameras

11/13
Cornell University-
Noyes Community Center
Ithaca, NY

11/14
First Unitarian Church
Philadelphia, PA
TBA

11/15
Garfield Artworks
Pittsburgh, PA

11/26
Empty Bottle
Chicago, IL

[Ed. Note: In other AF-related news (Gulp. I almost feel like I'm their unpaid P.R. person, for fuck's sake!), Merge Records is promoting the "Funeral" LP with a flashy animation on their main site. You can listen to the full version of "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" for a limited time only. That is all.]

Ed Harcourt Plays a Mean Hammond!

2004-09-28T02:10:00.000-04:00

He looks like Canuck Wunderkind Hawksley Workman--he even wears one of those strange furry hats like H.W.--but he's more a soul brother to Connor Oberst. I'm talking about Ed Harcourt, and don't let his plain-Jane name fool you. He's hiding musical gems beneath solid rock.

I downloaded his song "Something to Live For" and it jarred me from my woozy slumber. Still enjoying the after-effects of the Arcade Fire concert on Saturday (at the Salvation Army Citadel! Fucking A+), his plaintive, slightly moody drawl with a tinge of British accent (?) made me smile.

Don't take my word for it. I'm just some hack with a keyboard and two barely functional eardrums. Check out his website for streaming audio and some of the good press he's gotten. [Ed. Note: Your grammar skills are turning into soup. Can you remind me why I keep you around, JB?]

Because you need me. Get lost, Ed. boy.

Ed Harcourt is playing in the UK right now:

October
Sun 31 - Portsmouth - Wedgewood Rooms - 02392 863 911

November
Mon 1 - Brighton - Concord 2 - 01273 772 770
Tue 2 - Oxford - Zodiac - 01865 420 042
Wed 3 - Norwich - Waterfront - 01603 508 050
Fri 5 - Bristol - Fleece - 0117 929 9008 / 0871 22 00 260
Sat 6 - Brimingham - Academy 2 - 0870 771 2000 / 0871 22 00 260
Sun 7 - Leeds - Cockpit - 0113 245 5570
Tue 9 - Glasgow - Cottier Theatre - 0870 169 0100
Wed 10 - Nottingham - Rescue Rooms - 0115 958 8484
Thurs 11 - Liverpool - University, Stanley Theatre - 0151 256 5555
Fri 12 - Manchester - Royal Northern College Of Music - 0161 907 5555 / 0871 22 00 260
Sun 14 - London - Madame Jo Jo's - 0207 403 3331 / 0871 22 00 260
Mon 15 - London - Madame Jo Jo's - 0207 403 3331 / 0871 22 00 260

Bush's Guided Tour of the Oval Office

2004-09-27T10:29:00.000-04:00

Bush may not have a plan for pulling out of Iraq, but he does have time to give guided tours of the Oval Office.

"The job of a president is to set big goals for the country," Bush says. "Big objectives. And in order to achieve those objectives, the country must be united."

Like...bombing other countries? Increasing medicare premiums? Letting jobs slip away to foreign shores while plants close down all around America?

Admiring his presidential rug, proudly crafted by his wife Laura, he notes that the eagle on the seal faces the olive branch in its left-hand talon, not the right-hand claw full of arrows. (Funny. Left=olive branch, Right=arrows, ie. Anti-war movement versus Neo-Con Attack Squad.)

"Of course, it's always important to make sure you got enough arrows in the talons to keep the peace," he admits.

Pointing to the massive desk in front of the window, he says "...this door was put on the desk by Franklin Roosevelt to cover his infirmities."

One painting on his wall shows a horseman riding up a steep cliff. Weird symbol, but it is analagous to the way Bush leads his nation. They're a pack animal and he's riding them right into a bottomless pit. "A president must serve himself, not his self interests," Bush says, unaware of the irony inherent in his statement.

"The other paintings are all from Texas. It's where I'm from, and where I'm going."

Patting a bust of Churchill affectionately, he says "I like Churchill because he was a great war leader, he was resolute, and he had a fabulous sense of humour."

"My family is a priority in my life," Bush says. That's for sure...my guess is that your priority is definately not your nation. You're leading them up a steep cliff and the shale rock is chipping away as you gallop. When will America realize what a swindle you're roping them into? The whole Iraq quagmire was probably just a front to cover the billions of dollars you stole from the treasury to pay for your millionaire-friendly tax cuts and elimination of the dividend tax.

Kerry may not be perfect but at least he'll choose a cabinet that isn't war hungry. Also, he's being watched by the progressive side of his party so he won't step on any toes, aside from the Pharmaceutical/HMO cronies and possibly the military/industrial complex that Eisenhower warned us about. If you have any love for your land at all, vote Kerry in 2004.

This message was brought to you by Ralph Nader. [Ed. Note: We're fibbing about the Nader thing. Ralph is busy nipping at Kerry's heels in all the swing states. Admittedly, John Kerry isn't exactly helping himself by being so stiff and impersonal on camera. Bush seems like a good ol' boy, which will play well in the populous southern bible belt. I'm scared shitless.]

Jeremy Brendan- "Foie Gras" MP3

2004-09-21T13:32:00.000-04:00

It will be a challenge to write meaningful lyrics for a song entitled "Foie Gras" but I'm sure both Ween and Guided By Voices could succeed. Ever listen to "Vallejo"? Pure brilliance. Likewise about GBV.

Jeremy Brendan- "On a Cellphone" MP3

2004-09-21T11:38:00.000-04:00

The hiss near the end borders on annoying, but that's what happens when Rogers Wireless drops packets of audio traffic.

A Text Every American Should Read (at least once!)

2004-09-20T10:59:00.000-04:00

Liberal bad-boy Michael Moore may be a master propagandist, as his critics claim so fervently, but he certainly does know how to track down articles that mean something. He posted a piece on his website, written by Garrison Keillor, which sums up the situation in America perfectly.

In lieu of repeating his points and ruining the subtlety of his argument, I will simply post the first paragraph and ask you to follow the link below for the rest of the brilliant text. Please forward it to every American you know and feel free to leave your thoughts here (or anywhere else available, ie. on bathroom walls, chalkboards in your school, your own blog, etc.)

As much as we "foreigners" criticize and poke fun at America, we still want them to be happy and don't want to see them become a neo-fascist entity or a 4th-Reichian Plutocracy. Above all, let peace reign & may the Good Guys win. (Kerry may not be FDR but he's anybody but Bush!)

Without further ado,

"Something has gone seriously haywire with the Republican Party. Once, it was the party of pragmatic Main Street businessmen in steel-rimmed spectacles who decried profligacy and waste, were devoted to their communities and supported the sort of prosperity that raises all ships. They were good-hearted people who vanquished the gnarlier elements of their party, the paranoid Roosevelt-haters, the flat Earthers and Prohibitionists, the antipapist antiforeigner element. The genial Eisenhower was their man, a genuine American hero of D-Day, who made it OK for reasonable people to vote Republican." More...

Ancient Wisdom from a Departed Soul

2004-09-17T11:07:00.000-04:00

"One thing that really fucked me up at Creem was that I got caught up in the whole idea that Lester Bangs was this thing, this idea. I call it like Hunter Thompsonism. It's when you pay more attention to your image than you do to your work. And that destroys your writing. Hunter Thompson's never gonna do anything good again as long as he lives. I don't think anybody really cares about his drug habits."

Lester Bangs being interviewed by Jim DeRogatis in 1982. Two weeks later, he was found dead in his home.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
I think that I'm going to print out those words and staple-gun them to the walls of my apartment (and my cubicle, if I'm ever forced to squat in one of those unholy spaces hunched over a sticky keyboard).

Just like an old friend Dennis once told me, it's not about your persona; it's about the art you bring forth. Who gives a fuck whether you're drunk off your ass on Wild Turkey? The people want something great, something excellent. What they don't want is some half-witted malarky cobbled together by an addict desparate for his next fix.

I'm not trying to badger you all. Talk about vanity press; this post is for me, to resuscitate that will to disturb that is so important for a journalist. Don't get me started on fraudulent shitheads like most of the staff of the National Post--while they are probably very nice people, their words reveal that they are soulless and willing to kneel for the master--I guess what I really want to say is that I'm in this for the long haul and I won't be known as an easy lay.

Here is my pledge to you all. I won't interview a band or musician whom I don't consider fucking excellent. I also won't become a "corporate shill" (as per Lester's rant in the interview) and my business is not to encourage sales but to discourage shitty music from being released into the general population. I'm a doctor and all futile, commerical tunes are under quarantine from now on.

Also, I have to call on you guys for a little help over here. I need writers, photographers, actors, thieves, or anybody who has a will to create something. Send me your material and I'll see if I can include it on Jeremy Brendan. (My email is @ the top right hand side of the page unless your browser is crippled)

Don't forget about the little "Comment" button below each post. Leave me some feedback, you scurvy-ridden mongrels! I don't mean that...I love you all. I'm just trying to light a fire under your ass so that you'll bother to actually give me some criticism. Without it, I am a withering little fern behind thick, stuffy drapes. My chlorophyll is nearly gone already and you are all sunrays. Feed me. I'll owe you one.

Pitchfork Give the Arcade Fire a Thumbs Up

2004-09-14T02:16:00.000-04:00

MTL rock darlings the Arcade Fire have been given a nod from the press gallery; Pitchfork Magazine, an influential online publication that some consider the benchmark of contemporary musical criticism, has given them a stunning 9.7 out of 10 for their LP "Funeral".

If fate has smiled upon you, you'll make it to the Arcade Fire show @ the Salvation Army Citadel on September 25th in Montreal (2085 Drummond). Tickets will be on sale @ Cheap Thrills (Metcalfe Street, above St-Catherine). I bought two tickets today and the kindly owner told me that he still has a few remaining. The AF kick so much ass that it would be offensive for you to miss this show. I can't emphasize this enough.

[Update! Doors open @ 8 PM and the music begins @ 9. Word on the street is that the AF have been practicing with the echo effect (the show is in a sort of church, apparently) so expect a wondrous cacaphony of sonic beauty. Also, there is no smoking cigarettes and no drinking allowed in the music space so if you must be fucked up to enjoy a show, take care of that before you attend.]

If you haven't been entranced by their sound before, visit this commercial Babylon of a site and listen to "Wake Up" or even "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)" [Ed Note: Scroll down the page to find the songs...they're in Windows Media format & also Realplayer]. You'll be catapulted into a bombastic orchestral Elysian field.

Also, Pitchfork has reported that the AF have announced a whole slew of tour dates across Canada and the U.S. Spread the joy!

09-25 Montreal, Quebec - The Salvation Army Citadel
09-26 Wakefield, Quebec - Black Sheep Inn
09-29 Kingston, Ontario - Clark Hall Pub
09-30 Guelph, Ontario - Trasheteria
10-01 Toronto, Ontario - Lee's Place (w/ Bell Orchestre)
10-02 Hamilton, Ontario - Underground
10-13 New York, NY - Mercury Lounge (CMJ Showcase)
11-05 Halifax, Nova Scotia - The Marquee (w/ The Organ)
11-11 New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom (w/ The Hidden Cameras)
11-12 Boston, MA - TT the Bear's (w/ The Hidden Cameras)
11-13 Ithaca, NY - Noyes Community Center
11-14 Philadelphia, PA - First Unitarian Church
11-15 Pittsburgh, PA - Garfield Artworks
11-26 Chicago, IL - Empty Bottle

Live: Dan Livingstone, The Hooks & The Casingles @ Pub Balafré

2004-09-12T21:16:00.000-04:00

It was the first Saturday in September and I was looking for a fix. I don't mean I was searching for anything contraband--that's what those 24 hour delivery cards are for--no, I wanted to hear some pure, uncut live music. I found just that at Pub Balafré, a dimly-lit little hole in the wall nearly devoid of women, except for a couple of cute ones at the tables. This would make any hetero single dude nervous, maybe because of that hunter-gatherer instinct, so I wasted no time in buying a 650 ml Boreale Blonde. (This is Quebecois for micro-brewed beer)

The first act was a solo blues artist named Dan Livingstone. He was all about Mississippi Delta slide guitar but adamantly refused my Muddy Waters request. Despite this obvious transgression against blues music as a whole, he still fed us some decent blues riffs. His peak must have been during an obscure Bob Dylan cover--"Let me Lay it on You", I think--and the crowd was mostly into his satisfying-yet-mediocre set. I'm sure he would have sounded a lot better with a full band to take some of the weight off.

A rumour was floating around the room that Luca, the Hooks bass player, was passed out on the street in front of the Pub. I gulped and felt a tad bit guilty for having shared my beer with him only minutes before. With starry eyes open wide as saucepans, he had admitted that he took "every drug possible" and that I could quote him on that. This appealed to me greatly. "Rock and roll," I thought.

I went outside for a cigarette and saw that Sebastian, lead singer and guitarist of the Hooks, had just resuscitated Luca and they were sitting in front of the bar. Luca vowed that this was his last night in Montreal. "I'm going to California. I want to sleep on beaches and rooftops like Jim Morrison," he said. "If I die, I die...but if I can make it out there, that's even better...it's a cherry on the sundae." I suspect that he is still here in Montreal somewhere, although I can't be sure.

Minutes later, the Hooks were up on stage. From the minute they plugged in their instruments, I sensed that something was awry. Perhaps it was the way Luca had his bass slung so low; maybe it was that fierce look in Wolf's eyes (their part-time drummer); in any case, they sounded like a drugged-up Who with Kurt Cobain handling the vocals. [Ed. Note: This is a compliment!] The Hooks roll very close to the highway and they are not in the least bit ashamed about their rough edges. I guess this is what it's like to see the Libertines.

Eventually, Sebastian's guitar fell off and he smashed it angrily on the stage, halting the show for a few minutes. Soon enough, they were rip-roaring through a feedback laden opus who's name escapes me. They managed to squeeze a few more songs out of the night before Seb's guitar died for the last time. After leaving the stage, Luca ran back up and pulled his bass out of the case and raised it in the air. Although he used Ian's bass during the set, he had promised to smash his own bass before leaving.

True to his word, he began to pound the wounded bass into the floor. After a few strikes, it was in pieces and the soundman was running towards him in protest. Sebastian ran up and shouted "We're the Hooks" before they left the bar to cool down. I managed to pick up a chunk of bass the size of a Bic lighter; it remains in my pocket to this day.

The Hooks have the potential to be a great band if they can avoid setting themselves on fire at their gigs. They have the soul of Loki [Ed. Note: The Norse God of Mischief!] to guide them but he is a cruel master.

Next up were the Casingles, another rock band based out of Montreal. Justin is their guitarist & lead singer, Ian is on bass, and Tim plays some wicked drums. They started off their set by apologizing to Pub Balafré, God, Canada, and the Rickenbacker Bass Company for Luca's antics. Their sound is more polished than the Hooks; they might even be more huggable. They could be compared with the White Stripes but this wouldn't do them justice. Live, they exude a lot of confidence and reminded me somehow of Iggy Pop & the Stooges. This is a good thing.

Justin has a magnetic stage presence but he wasn't able to seduce the saucy blonde barmaid that had caught his eye, even though he purred compliments at her into the microphone between nearly every song. Ian held down the rhythm section with tight, effective bass lines. Tim proved to be a good drummer in his own right, peppering each song with frenetic fills and generous helpings of cymbals.

"Drive" could be a future hit single. It careened wildly towards a feedback-laden bridge and a dissonant, Sonic-Youthy solo before fading into the second-hand bar smoke. Another highlight was "Take a Chance", a dirty, vampy punkish song with allusions to Modest Mouse. I also enjoyed "Behind your Eyes" because it made me feel that I was watching a Canuck version of the Buzzcocks. Justin dedicated the song to his former manager, "a real bitch". This wasn't exactly PC of him but the largely-male audience laughed and guzzled their beers, this journalist included. [Ed. Note: What did Peter tell you in Broadcast 201? Keep yourself out of this, dammit.]

The definate musical OD came when we least expected it. By now, numbers were dwindling slightly and I figured that the show would just wind down. How wrong I was! Justin dedicated "Russian Opera" (which seemed to be a garage cover of the Beatle's "Eleanor Rigby") to a friend whom he had lost only days before. The emotion was visible on his face as he sang "I look at all the lonely people!" and the whole room resonated like a quartz crystal. "Russian Opera" had teeth and most of us were bitten.

"Three for One" was their second last one and I'm sure it could have been a Doors song in some other distant dimension. Slightly caustic yet completely palatable, it convinced me to finish my beer in time to buy another one before last call. They ended the night with a bluesy ode with slide guitar; Justin used a red Zippo lighter for effect.

Keep your eyes peeled for the Casingles. They are ready for prime time. The Hooks need some time in detox but they're good too, only a little bit scary. Dan Livingstone left me indifferent but remotely satisfied.

You don't have to go to Sweden to hear what true rock and roll sounds like; it's living here in Montreal and swigging forties in alleyways, rolling joints on the sidewalk and scrubbing windows with dirty water. I got my fix of gutsy garage rock that night, and it tasted pure. Do yourself a favour and go and find some of your own really soon.

All Points Bulletin!

2004-09-06T22:42:00.000-04:00

Have you seen this man? If so, you're probably a Montrealer. Avoid at all costs. Unarmed but dangerous. A threat to civil society. If apprehended, the reward is a three-and-a-half of indo Quebec Gold. Please call 514-242-9840 if you have any information leading to his capture. That is all.

Arcade Fire Get National Press Coverage; Buzz Audible From A Great Distance

2004-09-04T16:29:00.000-04:00

Ever since I first laid eyes on the Arcade Fire, I knew that they were going to blow up (in the hip-hop slang sense, not in the explosive one). Their live shows are a frequent source of new converts to their brand of bombast-rock and they are consumate professionals. Still, I never imagined that they would move so far, so fast.

If media hype is an indicator of a bands commercial potential, then the AF (and their label Merge) will be laughing all the way to the bizank. Of course, Win et al. are not in this for the money. They want to save rock and roll by evacuating it from the muddy confines of garage rock and lifting it to a higher level of thinking. They are the anti-Hives, the White-Stripes-murderers. This is a good thing.

Exclaim is a nationally-published music magazine (from Canada, the only free country in North America besides Mexico!) and has a tradition of defining the "cool" up here. They review scores of indie releases from around the world and they have a powerful sway over the tastemakers of the Canuck music industry; the college radio DJ's, the local bar promoters, and other influential folks read Exclaim (along with countless thousands of music fans and rockers). As you can see, Exclaim is a whale to this minnow of a blog, a giant treading loudly beside the JB ant.

And they love the Arcade Fire. In the September issue of Exclaim, a high-res live shot of Win Butler crooning into a microphone appears on the cover. You can read the well-researched, intricately-conceived album review/interview here.

Not to sound glib or pretentious, but JB has earned its first actual press coverage. Exclaim quotes from the interview we conducted in February. Although I'm sure that Michael Barclay meant well, I believe that he should have at least given us a shout-out in his text, instead of writing:

In one fanzine article, he was asked to summarise his outlook on life in 11 words or less, to which he responded simply: “Death is real.”

[Ed. Note: FYI Michael, although I am a fan of the AF, this is definately not a fanzine. I abhor the idea completely. I prefer DIY blog/zine, or even just music blog, but fanzine? Come on! If this is just a fanzine, why bother to lift my quote and then not attribute it to me? That is just not very nice at all.]

On a related note, a fellow blogger called *Sixeyes has posted a link to a live interview/performance by the Arcade Fire. It is located here so please point those mice and click away.

I've contacted Merge to request a promo LP of the AF album "Funeral" but I am still waiting for an answer; expect a follow-up in the coming days/week.

[Ed. Note: The Arcade Fire will be touring North America in the months ahead, including a couple of sets with the stupendous Hidden Cameras. Get your tickets while you still can!]

09/29 Kingston, ON, @ Clark Hall Pub
09/30 Guelph, ON, @ Trasheteria
10/02 Hamilton, ON, @ Underground
10/13 New York City, NY @ Mercury Lounge (Merge and CMJ Showcase)
11/11 New York, NY @ Bowery Ballroom w/ The Hidden Cameras
11/12 Boston, MA @ TT the Bear's w/ The Hidden Cameras
11/14 Philadelphia, PA @ First Unitarian Church
11/15 Pittsburgh, PA @ Garfield Artworks

Album Review: Wolf Parade E.P. (Self-titled)

2004-08-27T15:50:00.000-04:00

Rating: 4.216 out of 5.

Wolf Parade: (Pronounced 'wulf p&-'rAd)
n.
1. Procession of wolves (canus lupus) which moves from one point to another. Extremely rare, but occasionally observable in remote regions of Eastern Canada.

2. Montreal band with talent to burn and a propensity for writing great rock songs. Signed to Sub Pop, toured with Modest Mouse, and beginning to catch eyes internationally. Fucking incredible.

~ ~ ~ { } {} { } ~ ~ ~
Please pardon the profanity--admittedly, I can swear like the saltiest of sailors at times--but I can't find any other words sufficient to rave about Wolf Parade's latest EP. Although they were kind enough to give us six good songs this time around, the true music fan's appetite is unrivaled in the animal kingdom. WP's full length LP will be released sometime this winter and the anticipation is killing me like ozone at low altitudes.

The first song "Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts" may be burdened with a ponderous title but the tune is spectacular. Dan brings some of his patented crunchy guitar riffs and Spencer keeps the ball spinning with a nifty keyboard line; if a gun was placed to my forehead, I might compare the style to a souped-up and less gloomy Interpol. Still, comparisons are useless because Wolf Parade don't fit into the square pegs of musical categorization; their shape is as unique as a person's retina.

"We Built Another World" has one of those dancey Rapture/Franz Ferdinand kind of drum beats but don't let that scare you off. With a lilting bridge that segways into a heartfelt chorus, it is a decent counterpoint to the post-rock shuffle of the first track.

"Grounds for Divorce" could have been a track from Hot Hot Heat's "Make up the Breakdown" LP, only with a slightly slower pace. [Ed. Note: This will certainly piss Spencer off but I'm just going with my gut feeling! I like HHH so please don't take this the wrong way.] Spencer sounds like he is longing for familial bliss but feels unable to do more than watch strangers and dab his tears; "Look at the lovers / in the telephone stands / and the way they move / and the way they move their hands". [Ed. Note: Originally, I thought that Dan was singing on this one. Sorry for the confusion.]

"It's a Curse" has one of those spooky, ethereal sounds that Isaac Brock might have written if he were less of a country gentleman. Don't get me wrong--Modest Mouse is a splendid band--but "...Curse" has more of an edge than most MM songs. When the final chorus marches in, I'm sure that the singer from Clinic is probably shivering in his scrubs somewhere, fearful that these Canadians can outrock his critically-appreciated UK outfit.

"The National People's Scare" has a calm, laid-back, dark-black groove. I remember hearing this song at the Go Rin Do Loft party and it rings out like a Replacements composition with graceful, raw energy.

"Killing Armies" is good although the heavy intrusion of keyboard makes it my least favourite of the six songs on the EP. Still, it will probably grow on me because the Wolf Parade's tunes are as contagious as chicken-pox. I'll be scratching for the next month or so until October 3rd, when Wolf Parade will open for "Bostonian avant-rockers" Mission of Burma at Cabaret in Montreal, PQ.

Don't miss these Victorian ex-pats unless you have an aversion to solid rock. I'll be close to the front row, brandishing a full beer bottle and bopping my head to the WP sound; I'll try to remain as conscious and sober as possible, of course. [Ed. Note: Don't fib. You're a cheap drunk.]

JB Interview with Blank from the Blanks; Impromptu Guerilla Media Scrum!

2004-08-23T17:13:00.000-04:00

I just spent the past half hour trying to communicate with a musician. His identity shall remain nameless--hint? He & his bandmates wear pink, and it's not the Hidden Cameras!--but extricating information from him was like trying to squeeze water from a piece of gravel.

It is understandable that a busy person might not necessarily want to answer questions from every two-bit hack that tracks down their MSN email address, but come on! I'm at least a 3-bit hack, or even a media whore; still, I'm not offended. It just hardens my resolve and reminds me that I need to get the Holy of Holies, a press pass.

If Narduwar the Human Serviette can do it, anyone can!

Here is a summary of the information gleaned (gleamed?) from the quasi-interview.

1) Said musician enjoyed performing in England, although the clubs were small.
2) He remembers playing with Bishop Allen, a band I intend to interview in the near future, along with Sleater-Kinney down in the USA.
3) He may attend the Wolf Parade/Le Nombre show (slated for October in Montreal), although he doesn't usually plan that far ahead.
4) He knows Arlin (the drummer) of Wolf Parade personally but hasn't met Dan yet.
5) He didn't want to answer any questions about the follow-up to his first LP. I apologized profusely, sounding like some sort of pitiful syncophant. (I have to learn to be tough with these characters!)
6) After I admitted that I loved Modest Mouse's "Good News for People who Love Bad News", he said that they write "shitty songs".
7) Eventually, he mentioned that he's been listening to 80's and early-90's rap music, and Bach.
8) I wished him well for his upcoming show in Anaheim with Ben Kweller and bid him adieu.

If I had any journalistic ethics before, they just floated away like an empty garbage bag on the east wind. [Ed. Note: I don't think he realized he was being interviewed. If this offends him in any way, he can contact me and I'll remove this from JB.]

Despite all my complaining and kvetching about his attitude, I must point out that his band's first LP was wonderful. The critics weren't just having a circle jerk; his band is "la Creme de la Creme" of Canuck rock, right up there with acts like the New Pornographers, the Arcade Fire, and Wolf Parade. That's why I'm going to such great lengths to try to score a proper interview. It is going to happen; the only question is when.
~~~
On another note, I was at the Festiblues Festival in Parc Ahuntsic yesterday. The 3 finalists in the Blues competition squared off--the first prize was a trip to France to perform in a European festival, plus recording time--and Bottleneck ended up winning the day. Personally, I felt that Dale Boyle (of the Barburners) sounded much better up there but I think that Bottleneck must have slipped the judges a few bottles of Jack Daniels before the show. That, or the judges were hitting the crack pipe really hard.

On the plus side, Dale picked up second place, meaning he is half a grand richer! I wonder if he would lend me $20? We shall see, my friends. I'll keep you posted.

Poem: "1.618"

2004-08-14T09:47:00.000-04:00

[Ed. Note: The blame for this poem can be directly aimed at the novel "The Da Vinci Code". If you read about the Phi ratio it will make a little more sense.]
~~~
(1)Legs
(6)gangly and malnourished;
(1)thin
(8)poplar trunks covered with dark moss.
(1)Arms
(6)just long enough to reach
(1)you;
(8)pink pipe cleaners that hang so low.
(1)Eyes
(6)evergreen and pollen;
(1)wet
(8)from the early morning dewdrops.
(1)Count
(6)the differences 'tween
(1)our
(8)lost souls and our appendages
(1)Use
(6)numbers to make me whole
(1)again...
(8)Our love is indivisible.
~~~
-Jeremy Brendan, 2004.
Any critics/poets out there? Flame away, my friends (or shower me with virtuosic praise, whatever floats your boat).

Dale Boyle and the Barburners Interview

2004-08-05T07:44:00.000-04:00

I have come a long way in the past few days. I've crossed rivers and scaled mountains, camped in farmer's fields and bathed in streams, hitchhiked hundreds of kilometers past villages named St-this or Ste-that, and my feet are the unwilling victims of this great journey; I have blisters on my soles the size of guitar picks.

I wouldn't even consider attempting such a voyage if I wasn't hungering for the blues, like a wolf might howl at the moon because he can't eat it. I want to hear the whiskey-accented growls and the dark, twisted solos squealing out of a Fender strat while a harmonica wheezes and coughs over a fat bass line. I plan to listen to blues music and drink beer on the sandy beach until my wallet is empty or Sunday afternoon, whichever comes first. Yes, it is time for Maximum Blues, the best damned music festival east of Montreal.

For the past twelve summers, Gaspesians and tourists alike have waited for the ghost of Robert Johnson to inhabit the sky over Carleton, a cozy village on the south shore of the Gaspe Coast, at the Maximum Blues Music Festival. Gaspesie is the fist-shaped peninsula that hovers above New Brunswick menacingly, separated by the ironically-frigid waters of the Baie de Chaleur [Ed. Note: From the French, translates into "Warm Bay"] and it also happens to be a wonderful place to drink a two-four.

The blues has been around since before the electric guitar but it is constantly reinvented by the kids who grow up listening to it. By the time they're old enough to understand the blues, the seed has already been planted in their mind for years. As long as there is still heartbreak, as long as women have long legs and men have lusty thoughts, as long as bottles can be emptied and tea can be burned, the blues will remain as ornery and vital as ever.

Dale Boyle and the Barburners are no kids but they do represent the new wave of modern blues acts. Born and raised on the tip of the Gaspe coast in a little town called Barachois, they have built a solid following by burning down bars all along the peninsula (not as arsonists but as true blues musicians). Their style is bold and slightly dissonant, like if you caught Muddy Waters in bed with his woman and he started to pound out a blues riff as revenge. They do for the blues what Steve Earle did for country back in the 80's, giving it a high-octane overhaul and making it new again.

Left to Right: Dale and Rick with John Primer, Muddy Waters' guitarist, in Carleton, Quebec.

Since their song "Travellin' Bone" appeared on the Maximum Blues compilation in 2000, their sound has expanded and their legend has grown a head taller. They've played in blues bars around Montreal and Toronto, including a well-received appearance at Healey's in 2002 (the club owned by Jeff Healey, one of the bright lights on the Canadian Blues scene) at the North by Northeast Festival. Appearances like this one caught the eye of producer Dan Levitin (Chris Isaak, Blue Öyster Cult, K.D. Lang), who worked with the Barburners on their latest LP "A Dog Day for the Purists". As of press time, the release date hadn't been announced yet but I'll keep you posted.

Last month, I spoke with Dale Boyle (guitar and vox) and Richard Element (bass and back-up vox) via email. [Ed. Note: Tragically, I was working as a security guard 60 hours a week in July, so my publishing schedule was limping along like a three legged fox. My apologies for the delay.].

~ ~ ~

Jeremy Brendan: How has living in the Gaspesie affected you, musically?

Dale: Well, hints of country always seem to emerge in my playing and music, and that just comes naturally, and that is the Gaspe influence coming through. It also makes an impact on the subject matter of certain songs, like "Feels Like Home" or "Justice Precluded Coffin" (the story of Wilbert Coffin)... these are grounded in the small town Gaspe experience.

Richard: There aren't a whole lot of things to do for teens in such small towns, and music just made the world a bigger place in many ways... well, for me anyway. We're big country music fans, but I have to qualify that, as we listen to the kinda country that would never get played on CMT or the like. You have to qualify which type of country music today, 'cause there's a whole lot of horrible country music being made these days. I think when you grow up that close to the land, it shapes a part of you and it surfaces at different times.

JB: What advice would you have for other Gaspesian bands that are trying to make it right now, putting in those hours at the Brise-Bise like you once did?

Dale: Don't bother! Don't do it! Seriously, don't bother! Take up painting! Write poetry! But, if you're going give music a shot, be ready to do a ton of work that is only distantly related to writing and playing music...performing is the reward, and if you get anywhere, it will be well earned because there is an incredible amount of unpleasant work to do to establish oneself.

Richard: I agree! One should never expect anything more than small steps... small steps toward a larger goal. And remember to take something from every experience.

JB: Dale, on the song "Alpine Valley Blues", you seem to be channeling Jimi Hendrix's spirit through the mouth of an Appalaichan Micmac soothsayer.

Dale: OK. If you say so...

JB: Are you a fan of Jimi?

Dale: Sure... More so when I was younger. I haven't listened to Jimi in a while actually... though, St.Mary's Last Waltz intentionally has a Hendrix vibe.

JB: Which other artists have influenced you creatively? (In 2002, you mentioned Elvis Presley, Steve Earle and Stevie Ray Vaughan...any new ones?)

Dale: Oh, you've done some homework! Stevie Ray Vaughan's aggressiveness and intensity as a guitarist influenced and inspired me, but, for the most part, with the exception of a couple of songs like "Alpine Valley Blues" and "When I Leave", his influence is not so apparent stylistically. Often, the artists that have inspired me, have not impacted on me in an overt way. I draw inspiration from artists as divergent as The Ramones to Tom T. Hall, yet it may not be easy to detect. For example, Tom T.Hall is a country artist who is known for being a "storyteller", and storytelling is something that I've taken from him and have been adding a bit into our live performances. My influences are from all over the place... Steve Earle is worth mentioning again. Scotty Moore. Albert Lee. Bob Dylan. Hound Dog Taylor. The Ventures... I could list a lot of people... My most recent discovery is Mike Henderson. He's an excellent vocalist and guitarist.

JB: Have you been writing any songs recently?

Dale: Yes, though mostly material for my solo acoustic album.

Richard: I write things often, but more words than music. I like to play with words and metaphor. I sorta do it like some people sketch. It's always a way to slip away... it's a healthy reflector of where and who you are.

JB: At your future shows, are you going to focus on the new album or will you continue to play a few classic blues standards as well?

Dale: Yep. Material from the album will provide the basis of our shows, and we'll toss in a few well-known blues tunes, though some, like "When I Get Drunk" and "Night Train", are not standards.

JB: How did the recording session for "A Dog Day for the Purists" go?

Dale: It was LONG! Not the sessions themselves, but the time between sessions... it's a LONG story!

Richard: It was a learning experience, but a road that we hope not to travel again. It was real bumpy.

JB: Any wild tales to recount?

Dale: Wild tales...yep! To recount...NO! Well, not yet! Lets just say that aspects of this recording may inspire articles or you may find it being the subject of a chapter in some book. I'm NOT kidding!

JB: Also, what was it like working with Dan Levitin?

Dale: Dan is a great guy and we work well together. He's a musician so he understands where I'm coming from, so he strikes a good balance between working to have the musicians happy, yet, knowing when to say it's time to move on. He's helped us a lot.

Richard: Dan is excellent... with great stories too boot. He has made several generous offers of time and ideas and I'm not sure we can repay him. How much we getting for this interview?

JB: The Canadian Federal election is only weeks away. [Ed. Note: This question was time-specific. At the time, we were on the verge of electing a *gasp* Conservative majority! Luckily, cooler heads prevailed!] Are you planning to vote, and have the Barburners officially endorsed a political party?

Dale: Well, I endorse nobody that has a chance to win... anything left of right.

Richard: I endorse the concept of trying something different.

JB: What was it like meeting Jeff Healey when you performed at his Toronto blues club? (North By Northeast Festival, 2002) My mother and her best friend once got invited onto Jeff's tour bus for a glass of Whiskey, back in the 90's. They were very impressed by his politeness and got his autograph on their ticket stubs. (True story!)

Dale: Jeff Healey? He's quite tall. . .What's your mother doing hanging out with musicians in a tour bus? Don't answer that!

JB: Speaking of whiskey, have you ever tried Johnny Walker Red? It is a charming elixir of goodness but it really kills me after a certain point.

Dale: No, I rarely drink anymore.

Richard: Keith Richards suggested quitting dark liquor; I consider him a resonant expert.

JB: Do the Barburners still indulge in the pleasures of alcohol from time to time?

Dale: I believe the Barburners do indulge...

Richard: Actually, I'm the only drinker in the band and not much of one at that. Keeps the bar tabs low.

JB: Do you miss the Gaspé Coast? Will you ever move back to your home by the sea or do you think you'll stay in the city indefinately?

Dale: At times I do. But, I'll probably spent most of my life in some city writing songs about how much it sucks!

Richard: I have been missing the Coast these days actually, but it's the trees that I miss the most. I think we need to find a better balance of people and trees. I think it would make us all better people.

JB: How do you like living in Montreal? What do you think of the local nightlife and do you have any favourite hangouts?

Dale: Montreal is cool. I practically know nothing about the nightlife... I'm getting old! I like to sleep at night. I don't "hang out". If there is a good band playing in some bar, I'll go out. I don't go out too much.

JB: When you played at the Toronto Blues Society Talent Search Finals at Silver Dollar Room, did it go over well?

Dale: It went really well. Only a few Quebec bands have ever been in that talent search so we were happy to be selected to compete.

Richard: We had a good time. It's a classic Toronto blues club and the sound was great.

JB: Was the Talent Search like a Blues version of Canadian Idol, with judges sitting behind a table watching and nodding occasionally?

Dale: A little less formal than Canadian idol! But, there were 4 judges taking notes.

Richard: Yeah! This little trend, well? This big trend, just gave us an opportunity to take our music to T.O.

JB: You had a main stage performance at Maximum Blues in Carleton last year, which was full to the gills and very well received. Will you be
headlining this summer's festival?

Dale: We've got 2 shows on different stages this year. It will be a great chance to push the new album.

Richard: We really appreciate the funded trips to the Gaspe. The Carleton people really take great care of musicians. How do they treat journalists?

JB: If I could get my hands on a press pass, I would be able to tell you! I may just put this Lexmark colour printer to good use...forget I said that. Good luck with your show on Friday night and I'll see you in Carleton!

~ ~ ~

Dale Boyle & the Barburners will be playing on the main stage (Loto-Québec Stage) on Friday, August 6th @ 6:30 PM. They will also perform on Saturday afternoon @ 3:30 PM on the new campground stage. Heads will be bobbing, beer will be consumed, and real blues music will be heard. The thrill ain't gone, B.B. King; just listen to the Barburners and you'll find it again. Visit the Barburners official site for audio clips, images, and the latest Barburners news.

After Maximum Blues, you can catch the Barburners in the act at the following locations:

- August 13 & 14: Bar Le St-Barnabe (Carleton, Quebec)
- August 21: Smoke Meat Pete's (Montreal, Quebec)
- August 27 & 28: Haraiki Bar (Montreal, Quebec)