Oh Kanata

Damanta rolls up the 401 to the Port Coquitlam of Ottawa: Kanata, Ontario on August 8th, 2008

This time Matt woke us at 12:30pm asking, "What time is you guy's show in Ottawa? You know it takes five hours to get there, right?" Our show was at 5pm and yes, I knew but I figured I'd wake up around 9am as usual. Unfortunately, I'd slept poorly due to an all night video session happening beside me so I'd put on an eye mask and ear plugs and slept through the morning. With frantic packing and help from Matt we were on the road at 1:30pm.

Of course the dark side of Toronto reared it's ugly head as we tried to escape its clutches: Gridlock on the 401. Seriously. It was a parking lot until Whitby. Now I know Torontonians are gonna write me and say, "That's nothing, I remember this one time..." Save it. I am from Vancouver where we have only one highway and I ride my bike almost exclusively so I never have to use it. I was overwhelmed and consequently had a serious lack of patience for "Left-Lane Larry's" after we finally broke away. Eventually, we managed to get The Beast up to Ludicrous Speed again and got the the bar (only) two hours late. I'd phoned from Kingston to let them know and we agreed to play the allotted time, just later.

It looked like it was going to be a hard drinking suburban crowd that would be more annoyed than buoyed by our performance but we went over really well. Some young guys really got into it and bought t-shirts and CDs and I got into a conversation with a retired teacher whose family was from Ireland. She really enjoyed what we did and it was neat to talk to her and hear about the times when she and her girlfriends would head down to the Irish pub in Ottawa on St. Patrick's day. I think telling the stories did her more good than me listening to them.

After the show, The guys dropped me off at the Ottawa airport where I was to catch a flight to Moncton, NB the next day to attend my sister's Canadian wedding reception in North Rustico, Prince Edward Island. I was excited to take a break from the rigours of the road and see family after the hectic schedule since the drive to Chicago . Elegwen and Jon then had to drive 2 hours through the night to meet Ben, of Tarkin 'fame', in the Mount Royal neighbourhood. When next I'd see them hopefully we'd be playing an early week show in one of Montreal's Irish Pubs.

Chillin' in the T-dot

Damanta rocks "The Center of the Universe" on August 6th and 7th, 2008

Sunlight was streaming into the 23rd floor apartment that Matt had subletted for his summer of recording in Toronto. I got up and couldn't believe the view. His place opened east across Spadina towards the University of Toronto. I could see Varsity Centre nee Varsity Stadium, which I first saw on TV in 1986 when Notre Dame Alumnus Rob Ross caught the winning touchdown in UBC's Vanier Cup win and the CN Tower, which featured in a terrorist plot for the 1995 film "Canadian Bacon", starring John Candy.

I awoke before the rest of the gang and, after doing a load of laundry (oh the glamorous life of a teacher-turned-folk-star), I headed out for some Internet access. As I walked north up Spadina to Bloor Street I was humming "Street Car" by Hayden and at once I was reminded of one of my deepest darkest secrets...I actually like Toronto.

Now, I know all my friends in Vancouver, Quebec, Newfoundland and even the United States will be disappointed in me for admitting this in a public forum but it is true. I would miss the mountains if I lived there (Toronto's deepest dark secret is that it's flatter than Saskatchewan) but I am a city kid at heart and Toronto is the biggest and (achem) one of the better ones.

How can I possibly say this? Well, the population base supports a wider variety of restaurants, bars and entertainment options that I am tempted to sample than anywhere else but Montreal. All the big music acts play there. It has the pro sports that I like to watch and the Hockey and CFL (technically in Hamilton) Hall of Fames. Toronto has Canada's closest approximation of the big AND old buildings that I like about the big eastern US cities. It's airport is connected to everywhere cheaper than anywhere else in Canada and the transportation system is pretty decent with street cars, GO-Trains and the subway.

Sure Toronto has it's gridlock problems and the people there think that their sports teams are way more important to the rest of the country than they really are. And then, there's Scarberia, I mean, achem, Scarborough...but on the whole it's not a bad place.

Bloor Street is near The U(of T) so it has a lot of what I like about the T-dot. The street cars, people on bikes, people on foot, restaurants, bars, cafes etc. The energy of so many different people doing so many different things is really powerful and I had to sit and work on an outdoor patio so I could be a part of it. On the way back to Matt's for an afternoon rehearsal, I stopped in at Honest Ed's to get some Rubbermaid containers to hold all of out CD's, merchandise and camping gear now that it was being carried in a pickup with no canopy instead of a VW Westphalia.

We rehearsed out on the deck in the shade looking over the view I showed you earlier. After touching up a few issues from the Chicago show, we loaded all the gear we needed for the show down to the truck, changed and headed to Fionn MacCool's down on The Esplande for our show. We had arranged to have a local singer, Caitlin Burgess open for us and we were anxious to meet her.


Fionn MacCools has a great atmosphere and a crowded patio. Inside, Caitlin's crowd was ready to folk and our problems sound checking didn't diminish their enthusiasm. She played a great opening set and we convinced her to stick around for a second set so we could enjoy her songs while we were eating. Great stuff.

After the show, we headed up to Bloor street and into the James Joyce where we managed to secure a set the following night by talking to Jonah the manager. We met some new fans at the Joyce who raised some eyebrows us by asking if we'd be having breakfast with them. They meant at an all night dinner down the street but I must admit it was a good opener because we did end up going to the diner with them.

On the way home from blogging and booking and Bloor the next day, I stopped in at one of my favourite Ontario institutions, The Beer Store, where they send your order from the back on wheeled conveyor belt. It was made famous (to non-Ontarians) by the movie Strange Brew when Bob and Doug MacKenzie tried to get a free case of beer:

I picked up some Mill Street Tankhouse Ale but, sadly, I had to pull it off the shelf as apparently only domestic two-fours from the major breweries come down the belt at the Spadina and Bloor location.

Before the show Elegwen headed out to a local bar to try to meet some industry types and Matt went to help his girlfriend move so it was left to John and I to carry all the gear on foot the four blocks to the James Joyce. Fortunately, Jonah didn't want us to play with the drum kit so our gear was limited. We went on at 11:30 and had a pretty good set. They were so impressed at the bar that they wanted to have us back at the end of August. Unfortunately we were already booked in BC for the dates they wanted. Maybe next year.

All in all it was a pretty decent run in The Big Smoke and we were off to the Ottawa area the next day.

Check THIS Out...

Damanta (complete with bass player Matt Roberts!) pick their way "home" to Canada from Chicago, Illinois on August 5, 2008

When we invited Matt down from Toronto to play in Chicago we envisioned driving back up in The Pooka but alas it wasn't to be. We had only our half-ton Beast to get four guys up to the T-dot. Let's just say it was a bit of a challenge squeezing in. There had been talk of Elegwen taking a bus but since we fit in so well(!) the decision was made to suck it up (in?!?) and go as a foursome. (Above: The Fearless Foursome hits the road: l-r Jon(in cab and visible in sunglasses reflection), The author, Matt, Elegwen)

At a light to the highway on ramp a dude came up to the window of the truck like a squeegee boy would in Vancouver but this guy was selling. Selling socks to be precise.

"Yo, Check THIS out!" he said as he clapped his hands together producing a 12 pack of tube socks. "Five Bucks!"

"No, thanks," offered Elegwen trying to stare straight ahead. Determined, our friend turned sideways, clapped his hands together producing two twelve packs.

"Yo, then check THIS out!...Five Bucks!" This continued until the light was about to change and he was holding four packs and I was contemplating not having to wash socks for almost two months. Elegwen swears the guy behind us went for the first pack at $5 per. Sucker.

Weeks later back in Edmonton our friend VW James suggested an image of our man chasing us down the I-90 at 100km/hr in forklift down with a pallet of sucks screaming, "YO, FIVE BUCKS!"

It took forever to clear the residual suburban traffic of Chicago and get to Indiana so we ended up taking a half hour break in an air-conditioned truck stop in Hammond, IN to cool our sticky, sweaty bones. Here, I was awestruck by the abilities of the woman at the counter... She could make change, take orders for fried chicken, run a credit card transaction and supervise the rest of the staff (who were clearly not at her level of multi-tasking!) AT THE SAME TIME.

As a teacher it pains me to consider that North American education systems are not doing their job but the calibre of employee in convenience stores and fast food establishments between Calgary and Chicago had left a bit to be desired. While it is understood that if you are working at one of these places in Alberta it means that you are not actually bright enough to work on the rigs in the Oil Patch, and duly noted that the population density of Montana, North Dakota and rural Minnesota and Wisconsin probably don't yield too much in the way of under-employed rocket scientists and neuro-surgeons, it was still so refreshing to not have to explain why you paid a $5.01 for a $4.76 bill...or wait until the first item you ordered to be delivered before ordering the second...that I was speechless at this marvel of efficiency and human engineering.

After leaving Hammond, we skirted the great state of Indiana on our way around Lake Michigan. I was as close as I'd ever been to the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, IN but we wouldn't be stopping in on this trip. Our next gas stop was in Potterville, Michigan outside of Lansing and Matt couldn't resist the patriotic imagery of the Stars and Stripes in front of a McDonald's. It was almost enough to make you enlist...or hungry for apple pie. Mmmm...pie. (Real, not McDonald's)

With all passengers reading to try and take their minds of the fact that we had never had been this intimate with three other people in our lives we ended up going west on I-96 instead of east I-69. Doh! We righted the ship and we on our way to the Port Huron Border Crossing. Passing through Flint, Michigan on the way, I remarked that although Michael Moore stretched the truth and obscured some facts in "Bowling For Columbine", he wasn't exaggerating about the condition of his hometown--it looked pretty depressing.

In Port Huron, MI we stopped for our last shot of cheap American gasoline and a coffee & pie break at a truck stop restaurant. Suddenly panicking, we realized this was our last chance to try grits before we left the States. Unfortunately, they were not part of the restaurant's all-day breakfast menu. It's for the best in the end as northerners probably can't do them justice anyway. Then Matt tried to pay the seniors' price for his pasta primavera. Gong Show.

You have to pay a toll to cross the bridge to access Canadian customs (Note to State of Michigan, Highways Commissioner--Nice Touch). Approaching the booth, we were a bit nervous about the fact that we had four people in a three seat-belt cab.

"Looks a tight in there," smiled the Customs agent. "Where's everyone from?"

Elegwen, who had all the passports responded, "Three from Vancouver, one from Toronto."

"What's under the tarp?" he said motioning towards the bed of The Beast. When Elegwen told him it was camping gear and musical instruments, the border guard asked how far we were going. When we told him Toronto and he laughed and said with a chuckle, "Well, I hope you make it before one of you explodes! Have a nice night." And with that we were back in our home and native land.

This transaction was remarkable not only for the fact that we were over the legal limit for passengers but also for the fact that none of the passengers reported to be from Alberta and the license plates on the truck were. No questions asked--Oh, Canada.

The ride to Matt's from the border is completely blocked out in my memory by the fact that after 8 hours of being sardined into a truck cab with three other men the combined effects of heat, smell, fatigue and muscle cramping were making me the most miserable I have been in a moving vehicle in a long time. So sadly, there isn't much to say about the darkness, fog and darkness on the 401 and 403 between Sarnia and Toronto, Ontario.

At Matt's place on Spadina, we had to haul almost everything to the elevator and into his apartment because we couldn't leave all our gear under a tarp on the streets of Toronto. This took about five times longer than it needed to as we all had Confused Traveller Fatigue Syndrome*. At last I was sprawled out on my thermarest on Matt's floor and the nightmare was over. Oh how I missed our Volkswagen Van.

*Not a real medical condition

Chicago Hope

Damanta digs out of the rubble of their trip to Chicago on Aug 4th.

So I woke up disoriented in Phil’s air conditioned to the sound of Matt getting ready to head out. Jon and Elegwen slept because they’d driven the last stretch while I dozed in the cab of the truck. I convinced Matt to wait for me and then we headed out to the local supermarket for a breakfast snack.

Phil lives in a ‘developing’ neighbourhood, which is to say an area that was previously undesirable but a few artistic types moved in on the cheap and its coolness is rising rapidly. When Matt and I stopped in a local grocery store we were the only white people in the place--an interesting sensation. I didn’t ask (Edmonton-born) Matt how he felt about it but having grown up in Vancouver, and lived in a small town in Japan, it was eyebrow-raising but not that far outside of the realm of past experience.

We walked to the bus stop in a deluge and the stop we needed didn’t have a shelter. Great. I ate my breakfast yogurt and these yellow things that you peel before eating (but Gwen Steffani is around to tell me how to spell the word so you’ll have to use your imagination).

The L-train into town was cool-gotta love the CTA. I love approaching American big cities and seeing the buildings looming larger and larger. Matt had two items on his Chicago agenda: The Art Institute of Chicago—home to American Classics like “American Gothic” by Grant Wood and “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper and Chicago Deep Dish Pizza. As we descended the steps from the train platform at the appropriate stop for the Museum, we ran right into a pizza joint... Done deal. I've had better (last time I was in town) but it was good to enjoy some local 'scenery' instead of fast food crap and convenience store fare.

When we finally made it to the AI there was a line up and this gave us time we got to look back at the art deco skyline along Michigan Avenue and I was floored again (I was here in 2002 to see my sister, Leiana, play volleyball for UNLV). At the risk of sounding like some bumpkin from an isolated logging town on the west coast of Canada, I can never get enough of the intricate stone and brick work in Eastern American big city towers. I look like a total tourist whenever I am in New York, Philly, Chicago etc because I am always looking up. I suppose I am transfixed because almost all the tall buildings in Vancouver have been built in the last 30 years so they are all steel and glass. The Marine Building on Burrard is the only example I can think of in Vancouver that comes close to Michigan Avenue's towering works of art.

Inside the AI, after my obligatory look at Van Gogh and the Impressionists (Serrault's Pointillist work Sunday in the Park that appeared in the film "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"), we concentrated on the excellent American Collection. We saw the above mentioned classics and I was really struck by how much great work has been done in the (relatively) short history of the United States.
Outside we walked North on Michigan avenue to Millennium Park which had been constructed since my last visit. There is a crazy water park with faces of Chicagoans that change about every ten minutes. Just before the face change, the lips of the projected face pucker and water is spewed forth onto the kids playing below. Probably the only place in the world you can get spit on by a local and enjoy it...
Millennium Park also has a polished aluminium orb that you can walk under and through taking pictures of yourself reflected on the convex surface. It is one of those places in the world (like the Leaning Tower of Pisa) that inspires a lot of hokey poses. Of course Matt and I took our turns...

We walked across an outdoor amphitheatre and I dreamed of watching one of my favourite (and Chicago-based) bands Wilco there...

Crossing over a Gaudi-inspired bridge to Grant Park, where I was also impressed by the well-signed and wide bike paths that ran parallel to the park... The Lollapalooza tour was cleaning up after a weekend stint (we would have been there--with Wilco--if the van had not broken down).
At this point, we got a call from Phil saying that the Elbo Room had agreed to let us play the opening slot on their Monday Night bill so we could do our live recording after all. Before Phil and the guys picked us up (after their afternoon "breakfast") we got to take our picture (Elegwen and Jon are there in spirit...) in front of the Buckingham Fountain, made famous in the opening credits of "Married With Children" and we went back to Phil's to gear up for the show.

There was a thunderstorm that hit as we were loading in and when I went around the block to find parking I got twisted around the myriad diagonal intersection that abound in the Lincoln Street area. When I finally got back (Note to self: Never ask for directions at Dunkin' Donuts) we were getting ready to sound check for our opening set. Then the sound guy said he wouldn't do anything until the electrical storm passed. There was talk of a potential twister touching down and that the place might close for the night...

When it finally passed and the bar decided to go ahead with the show we began to see how is was where missing our show the night before hurt us--while we got to play it was a far cry from the headlining slot we would have had the night before. The sound guy treated us like crap, insulting Elgwen's choice of microphone and actually leaving the board to go upstairs and drink during our set. Phil said we got some good signal so hopefully we'll get something out of the recording (even the our friend the sound guy ushered us off stage before we'd used our full 35 minute allotment...)
Afterwards we got some fun shots in and outside the bar with our name on the Marquee. Phil's girlfriend (whose name escapes me) took some great shots considering she was working with a $250 digital camera.

The headlining band was a Mandrel Sisters' style vocal group called The Pin Ups backed by a great jazz quartet. They did a great job of all the classics and came complete with a flirtatious blond singer who did her best to 'promote' the band to Elegwen and Jon but she seemed to lose a bit of interest when she discovered that we weren't local.

We headed back to Phil's to crash and get ready ride to Toronto the Tuesday morning--An adventure in itself!
JO

Pictures Added

Several photos have been added to the previous blogs. Sorry for the delay but internet acess has been spotty! More posts later today. Find out how we did in the T-dot!
JO

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'...

Damanta tries to make it from Lethbridge, Alberta to Chicago, Illinois in less than 24 hours on August 2/3rd...

We passed the spot of our second breakdown,...the first breakdown... and changed drivers right before the border. Elegwen took the wheel and even his famous charm couldn't get us through without a quick inspection. It was no problem though and we were on our way through the great state of Montana. The sun was setting and a storm was brewing up but we managed to get some killer views of the mountains before the sun went down. At a fuel stop in Great Falls (site of one of our cancelled shows) we discovered an incredibly low oil level due to a leak. Good Times in your free truck!

Everything was going well and we might have made some headway through the night but we got stopped by some police in Lewiston, Montana because apparently, our rear running lights were out. This meant that drivers behind us could not see us unless we were braking or signalling. We spent half an hour on the side of the road trying to find the problem and and another hour and a half trying to get it in a gas station changing bulbs and fuses and testing different situations. Nothing worked so we decided to run with our four ways on and continue through the night.

This was where not having the Pooka really hurt. Without the back seat to nap in the person who was ‘asleep’ had to deal with loud music or videos on the iPod to keep the driver and navigator awake. I am not really good at sleeping in a seated position anyways so you can imagine how much sleep I got packed into a truck cab with two other guys watching entourage at top volume…

At 6am on a desolate stretch of road we stopped by a country school to take pictures of the sunrise and change (tractor) drivers. I was on. At first I took it calm and got a feel for how The Beast handled but by the time we’d reached the interstate at the Montana/North Dakota border, I was ready to go plaid by making the jump to Ludicrous Speed.

I powered across North Dakota, through badlands just after sunrise and through farmers’ fields, battling the cross winds (and people from Minnesota who don’t know what the passing lane is for). I noticed that North Dakaota had an innovation with respect to letting drivers know what was coming up...While North Dakotans tell you at the base of the ramp that you have NO SERVICES at that particular ramp while in Montana you are not notified until you are at the top of the ramp and off the highway...

When we reached Bismarck, ND at noon, I figured we were on the state border (my navigator was asleep…). Wrong. We still had half a state to go and doubt began to creep into my mind as to whether we could make the show. Elegwen had assured me it was only a couple of hours from Madison, Wisconsin to Chicago so I figured we could still make it. We told Matt to get on the plane and we’d meet him there.

We reached Fargo, ND (yes that Fargo) at 3:30pm. For some reason it seemed like a good idea to get out of the car for a lunch break at Taco Bell (instead of driving through—I blame road fatigue) and skirted Minneapolis by 5pm. The road to Madison was long and it was becoming clear that we didn’t have a chance to make there for our spot at 11pm.

Outside of Madison at 9:30pm, we called Matt to give him the bad news. In his heart, he already knew. Phil, an engineer who had been scheduled to record our set that night, had offered to take him in and extended that offer to us. We were incredibly fortunate to have come across such a generous person. We stopped at another Taco Bell somewhere in Illinois and I might have been hallucinating but I swear I saw a helicopter on the back of a pickup...

We finally pulled into Phil’s driveway at 3am after a 34 hour journey. Fortunately, he still let us in. We had been stopped three times by the police about our tail lights and without these stops and attempted repairs after the stops we might have made it to the show on time. But we didn’t. It looked like we’d invested quite a bit (the cost the gas, the cost of hiring the sound engineer and the cost of Matt’s ticket to fly down and the human cost of the ordeal of getting to Chi-town) for very little gain. A somewhat depressing out come to a VERY long day.

Anthony To the Rescue

Damanta can't get out of Lethbridge on August 2nd without a helping hand...

On the way back to Lethbridge for the fourth time moral was very low. Without the money in hand to make the repairs necessary it looked like the tour was over until...Anthony offered us the use of his truck. Apparently, he'd recently purchased a Chevy Silverado 1/2 ton for $250 and was so into us finishing this tour he was willing to lend us the truck for the balance of the summer.


It should be said that the truck didn't have a working speedometer or a driver side mirror or working rear running lightsor a canopy and had a headlight out. But it was the right price so we bought a headlight and a tarp and (after 1.5 hours in the Canadian Tire parking lot) we were on our way. Anthony, everything that happens to the band after this point on the trip is thanks to you. We can never repay you fully. I can't wait to play that house concert for your family in September.

Saturday morning I rode with Anthony out of Lethbridge to the foothill country through an native reserve land that has preserved several species of prairie wild grass and flowers. Chief Mountain, who I believe makes an appearance in a Corb Lund song, "Little Foothills Heaven," looked down as I took the wheel of THE BEAST for the first time.

It is a blue truck with sport (which is to say LOUD) exhaust and tinted windows but sadly, no bumping stereo. It is my believe that in removing his stereo system, the previous owner managed to screw up the electrical system beyond comprehension--but it is just a theory...


I followed Anthony back to Lethbridge through fields of cattle and windmills and began to change my attitude toward this whole experience. Instead of being a last gasp attempt to continue, we had a potential Hollywood movie on our hands--Band rescued by tow truck driver goes on to fame and glory. Now, I know my friend Ryan has told me that fame and glory are not likely by-products of a folk music project but we'll see.

It took us a bit of time to transfer the gear from The Pooka to the newly christened Beast. It was clear that travelling this way was not going to be easy. There would be no more sleeping in the back while others took up the wheel. There would be no more snacks in the ice box. No more pop-top camping and no more slow lane cruising looking at the scenery.

We were already late leaving for a show in Illinois and would be lucky to get there. Matt was in Ottawa poised to cancel his ticket to Chicago if we sent him word but we really wanted to make it there. We were goping to play at a famous music venue called the Elbo Room and hoping to record the set. So we made a run for the border a third time...

Lethbridge III: The Pooka Craps Out

Damanta played a Sunday night show in Canmore, Alberta on July 28th and was heading south for Great Falls Montana when...

It all began as we came over a rise on the way down to Calgary, The Pooka backfired and the red light of death (a big red G) lit up on the dashboard. We pulled over and discovered that we’d thrown the fan belt. No biggie except we couldn't get it back on and the VW manual was a little unclear. Eventually, with the help of a police officer who had stopped to give us protection from the highway traffic, we figured it out and were on our way. Elegwen noted that our power was way lower and it began to seem like we'd lost our cylinder again.

We struggled to Lethbridge and found a VW dealership who would look at at it the next morning stone cold and so we headed back to O'Reilly's to drown our sorrows and call Great Falls and let them know we'd not be making our show that night. I camped in the van at the dealership and helped them push it into the service bay the next morning.

The prognosis was not good. The cylinder head was likely gone and now the fan was loose. The service manager suggested finding alternate transportation as the van was on it's last legs. I had no choice but to ask him to adjust the valve clearance (for the third time in two weeks) and give us a new fanbelt. I was told that the van might not make Calgary, let alone back home to Vancouver.

We headed out of Lethbridge later that afternoon with our fingers crossed--that the cylinder woulnd't have to be replaced (>$1000) and that the fan would hold up (new crankshaft/new engine required)...We got 45 minutes out of town when the red light of death came on again.

The fan belt was off again and this time when we went to put it back on, the fan was no longer attached to the engine. Bad news. A call to the CAA confirmed that I was right to get their exclusive Gold coverage with extended towing benefits and we there we were stuck on the roadside waiting to go back to Lethbridge for the third time.

Anthony, our tow truck saviour, showed up an hour later and let us know that he was into Irish music and speaking German. Him and Elegwen became fast friends which was good because we got up close and personal in the cab of Anthony's tow truck. Let me tell you, four guys in the cab of a full sized pickup don't fit so well.




We had Anthony tow us to the Ellis Autodrome (for cheaper than dealership pricing, we hoped) and ended up back at...you guessed it O'Reilly's. It was like groundhog day all over again. Anthony actually asked if we wanted him to put the flashing lights on to announce our presence. Uhh...no, thanks.

3 days later, on Friday we were trying again to leave Lethbridge. Jesus, the manager of O'Reilly's had already told us of the local legend that once you get to Lethbridge, you can't leave and we were starting to believe it. With our fan welded onto the crankshaft we hit the highway once more in hopes of making it to our Chicago show on Sunday August 3rd.

We didn't even make it as far as we did on Monday before the fan snapped off and it appeared our tour was over. Anthony showed up with a flat deck this time and we loaded up the Pooka for the third and potentially final time in its service to Damanta.

Southern Alberta--Who Knew?!?

Damanta headed south from Edmonton for Canmore and Lethbridge, Alberta from July 25th to 27th

The ride to Canmore from Edmonton was uneventful in that we had no mechanicals and we got there in a reasonable amount of time. We did miss the Trans-Canada in Calgary and had to backtrack up the MacCleod Trail. When we got to Canmore it was dark and rainy so our dreams of an outdoor show at the campground were dashed.
James, the Wapiti Campground manager, suggested we go to a Wednesday night open stage jam in town. So we headed in Zoma’s Bistro with a quick stop at the Canmore Hotel to drop off some posters to promote our show at the end of August for the Highland Games.

At the open stage both Elegwen and I played some of our songs. In honour of all the Quebecois performers and campground residents, I played “Un p'tit tour” by my favourite Quebecois group, Les Cowboys Fringants. The sound guy told me I should sing louder next time. Uh.., maybe you should just turn up the gain on the mic…

The Canmore Hotel gave us rooms for the night and I awoke the next morning to brilliant sunshine and went for a run along the river. Wow, is Canmore ever a beautiful place. The sun shining on rocky peaks and the trees along the riverside trail gave me so much energy that I didn’t even mind when I lost the shortcut trail I was following and had to bushwhack out to the river.
We mailed some posters to PEI, and Ontario and headed out of town to make our way to Lethbridge for three shows in three nights at O’Reilly’s Pub. The ride down was cool because we only skirted Calgary and thus only got passed-on-the-right-and-cut-off twice (while in the middle lane) as opposed to the usual seven or eight times when we are there (in Calgary, that is).
We got to Lethbridge in plenty of time to set up for our set. There were some pilots cooling off after doing their preliminary test flights with the Tora Tora Tora Air Show that was in town. I was a bit nervous as it was our first pub show with the new amps that we'd rented but the sound check went OK so we were ready to rock.

O’Reilly’s has a solid group of regulars and a really cool staff and our three nights there were really fun. We met a lot of new friends, I got to do some nice runs in the mornings, there was a good coffee shop nearby and I got my new membership card for my new BCAA membership at the AMA (Canadian Automobile Association, Alberta branch) office along with a road atlas and tons of campground guides. Lethbridge also has really neat rail bridge and the coulees which are the little ravines that feed into the river that flows by the town. All in all it was a pleasant and surprisingly fun (And yes, I was surprised—what do you want? Calgary was my old standard for Southern Alberta).

We headed back up towards Canmore to play the Sunday night show that Elegwen had snagged when we were at the open stage on Wednesday. The sun was brilliant and I was really enjoying life on the road VW van style. You just do your 60mph in the slow lane and there is little to no stress. Who knew? The foothills of the Rockies were beautiful (with the exception where they are smeared with little boxes on the hillside near the Trans-Canada) and were really cool to look at while cruising along.

It was a small crowd at Zoma’s but they were enthusiastic about the music and the manager, Brian was very accommodating. As were loading in our gear with French-speakers wandering by, Jon decided that Canmore, was now, “Montreal West,” and based on the number of conversations en francais that I had while I was there, I might have to agree.

We stayed at the campground and in the morning James bought us breakfast at the Canmore Café telling us of his future plans for hiking and business. We wished him luck and were on our way. The plan was to stop in at Lethbridge to pick up our money from the three shows we played there and continue to our show Monday night in Great Falls, Montana. Plans change sometimes though…

Edmonton: The Pooka Strikes Back

Damanta stopped into Edmonton to say hi to the Yates' and to play the Irish Session on Tuesday July 23 at O'Byrne's Pub on Whyte Avenue. What happened next was unexpected but uplifting just the same...

The Pooka began to stuggle as we slowly advanced towards Alberta's capital along Stony Plain road. This was alarming for two reasons: 1)we needed it in top shape for our tour to the east coast and back to break even and 2) we'd just had it tuned up and adjusted 5 days previous in Vancouver. We'd lost power, it was stalling on idle and everything pointed to a return of the previous symptoms. Bad news all around.

Outside a tea shop on Whyte Ave, Elegwen was searching out VW mechanics in the area on the internet while Jon and I called Ed at the Bug Shop and trouble-shot the things he asked us to. No simple adjustments changed performance and we were stumped. Little did we know that our saviour had already seen us and was on our way.

Westphalia James was driving home from work when he saw us and decided to ride back on his bike to see if he could help. One of the great thing about riding in a Westy is the community of users who feels all your joys and pains and will do anything to improve your experience. I suppose it is like joining some kind of church and when you find religion in your own VW you want to make sure others feel the same power from their own experience. James was there for us when we need him and we'll have to return the favour in the future for another VW owner.

He rode back to Whyte Ave check on us and we were still in dire straits. When he saw we had the Haynes Manual as our repair guide he tut-tutted and said we needed the Jon Muir guide. He then rode back home (25min each way) to get his van and tools. We went to a park down by the river and he trouble shot the distributor, the spark plugs and finally the cylinders. Cylinder 3 had no compression. If you don't know what I am talking about you haven't own an air cooled VW, have you? Don't worry, a week before I didn't know any of this stuff either. While he worked I tried to absorb as much as possible from both him and Muir's book, "How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive". I took a break from my study of mechanics to move our gear (which had to be taken out for James to acess the rear-mount engine) into James' van to protect it from a vicisious thunderstorm that broke as he was perfrming the compression test.

James' opinion was we needed a new distributor wire and a vlave clearance adjustment. However, we might need a new cylinder head which would be a 8-10 hour job costing at least a thousand dollars... He said we should do it at his favourite garage and that he'd call them in the morning to see if they could fit us in. He'd just done 5 hours work for us and was now offering to make calls for us in the morning. We had no choice but to take him for beers.

In the morning, James called me to say the garage was sorry but the guy who works on VW vans was away for two weeks. We had to go to plan B, The Auto Haus. We wanted to avoid the AH because it is a VW dealership and dealerships charge >$100 per hour for labour. However when we got there, Vince listened to our problems, checked it out and agreed to take it on the hoist at the end of the day. We went to do a coffee and pie review at a local restaurant and cross our fingers while he worked and when we returned he said we owed a little more than $100 and were good to go. Vince, you rule.

We took the van straight to O'Byrnes and it felt like a new vehicle. At the session I met up with James and told him the good news. He wished us luck and gave us one of his extra copies of "How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive" before heading home early because he had work in the morning and was up late the previous night (checking our van).

After the session, the folks at O'Byrnes let us put on an impromptu set for our friends the Yates' and their friends. We sold a few CD's and got an offer to come back in September. I can't wait.
Back at the Yates place afterwards the jamming continued into the wee hours. As usual, I took some stick for heading to bed early but I can't help it; that's how I am wired.

We left Edmonton for Canmore in the morning and everything appeared to be going our way. Elegwen told me later that (St.) James bought the compression tester just to help us out! It's amazing what happens to keep you going sometimes...
JO

Flower Fest

Damanta began the cross-country tour in earnest at Flower Fest July 18-21st in Seba Beach, Alberta

The weeks after North Country Fair were packed. I had to finish my exam supervision requirements at school, pack up (most of) my crap from the classroom (sorry Coleen!), help Elegwen and Jon Mauro, Damanta's new drummer, book the dates for the tour, rent the necessary gear, get the Pooka in road-read shape, rehearse for and play the farewell shows at Johnnie Fox's and say goodbye to several friends in the process. One thing I didn't have to do was submit the changes to my final grades' submission. That task was handled while I was at North Country Fair by my sister (who is also my department head) Dawn and Heidi. Thanks, ladies!

Damanta, being an Irish band, operates on Irish time which is more flexible than Sir Sandford Fleming's standard concept of time. As such, it was mid afternoon when we finally hit the road. In Hope, two hours east of Vancouver, we had to settle the towing account from the Pooka's adventure on the way back from Calgary, and we did the first installment of Damanta's Coffee and pie reviews.

We continued on the Trans-Canada Highway #1 in lieu of the #5 Coquihalla as our VW mechanic Ed at The Bug Shop in Delta told us the Coq's hills are a VW killer--"They just burst into flames," is what I believe he said.

Outside of Hell's Gate we pulled over at rest stop and met a group of Turkish-Canadians on a road trip. They were led on a loop of the BC interior that was to end in Kelowna. In exchange for an inpromtu performance, they shared watermelon and some of the spicy dish they were frying up. When everyone decided to move on we left with full stomachs and they had a Damanta CD for their car stereo. Good Deal.

I took the wheel at this point and I can confirm that my abilities with respect to manual transmissions had not improved despite the fact that I hadn't driven one since The Pooka conked out in Banff back in May. We shuddered to a start and were off. I don't really have much affinity for driving at night so driving a Volksie through the winding Fraser Canyon at night was a bit of a challenge. IT was a bit like this: Hayden's "Dynamite Walls" (minus the interior Christmas lights)...

Fortunately Jon was kind enough to set the iPod to the Phil Collins/Genesis playlist so I was motivated by such classics as, "Jesus He Loves Me", "In the Air Tonight" and "Land of Confusion" to keep me motivated and my reflexes sharp.

We got to Kamloops after midnight and gave the sole A&W Drive Thru employee on duty fits by ordering six Mozza's and root beer (after much fatigue-induced indecision) to eat on the patio in the darkness. I was off the hook at this point and Jon took over while I slept in the back.

I awoke in Rogers Pass at 6am where we were disappointed to see that the only gas station was closed. It was touch and go to see if we'd have enough gas to make it to Golden. Fortunately, it was mostly downhill and we coasted in on fumes. I took the wheel out of Golden and was happy when we made it through Banff where the Pooka conked out last time. At Canmore Elegwen introduced us to James at the Wapiti campground, who help Elegwen out immeasurably when he was waiting for repairs in may before continuing on the back roads north from Cochrane.

Finding Flower Fest after arriving at Seba Beach from the south was a bit of a trick. We actually had to go to the Yellowhead Highway and find the #55 Rural Road and exit off the side. We knew we were in the right place when we saw the hand-painted sign and once we'd parked the Pooka we realized that we'd stumbled onto something special.

Flower Fest is actually an extension of an Edmonton Institution, The Little Flower Open Stage. It is run by Brian Gregg an amazing guitarist who once opened for Led Zeppelin and now busks and runs a site called electronic busker where you can listen to the music and pay what you want/can. At any rate, Brian and his team of volunteers has developed a loyal following at the open stage and once a year, the gang heads an hour outside Edmonton to sing and play music together at "the world's best micro music festival," in Seba Beach, Alberta.

Despite the threat of rain, Damanta braved the elements and played our opening set outside. It was well received and we managed to get to the general store in time to procure hot dogs for dinner. What..? There was a fire pit. A weenie roast is mandatory, non? There was a sing-a-long but being too burnt out from the overnight drive, I left it to Jon and Elegwen to hold the torch high for the band and I retired to the tent.

An early morning run and swim in the lake later I was feeling good enough to head down to a "side stage" know to Flower Fest-ers as "The End of the World". It is essentially a clearing 15 minutes walk into the woods. Once there Doctor John, formerly the head of the University of Alberta Geography department, gave a totally engaging set of Country Folk Blues that I really dug. I even picked up a few guitar tricks watching him.

Back at the main site I jammed with our next-van neighbour (another!) John--him on Dobro, myself on guitar. In an example of 21st century jam protocol I sang the words to Blue Rodeo's "Five Days in May" by reading them off my iPod. When it came time for our Damanta's second second set at the fest, we decided to play it in our Baroque Faerie masks. It was actually way cooler than it sounds.

I have always found it quite socially liberating to put on a costume (fancy dress) and this was no exception. I found myself interacting with crowd way more than usual. The set sounded great and I changed a broken string in less than 3 minutes--a new personal best. As we were packing up a little redhead girl walked by and said, "You guys aren't crazy enough to be rock stars!" Hmm, I guess I'll have to keep working on that crowd interaction thing...

The evening included a potluck dinner (delicious!) and performances by Doctor John with a full band and our new friend Pascal Lecours' band, including his 7 year old daughter, a certain redhead named Gaetane, on drums. I was too sunstroked to take any of this in or to hit the camp fire (I was actually in the tent before sun down) but I understand that Jon and Elegwen lit it up. However, as I was drifting off to sleep I did hear Gaetane casting a spell on Jon that would turn him into a rock star...

As most parties were packing up Sunday morning the three members of Damanta went down to the lake for a swim and during the walk there I reflected on how Flower Fest's relaxed family vibe most be a lot like folk festivals were before you had to have sold hundreds of thousands of units to play at one. Everyone talks to everyone, people jam together and play in each other's sets, there is no security required or desired. We met some many new friends and made new fans at will. There is something to say for festivals like North Country Fair that walk the line between Flower Fest and the commercial folk festivals in Calgary, Edmonton, Vancouver, Mission and Salmon Arm but I really enjoyed Flower Fest.

Sunday afternoon brought a set by Bob Cook and his Mucho Nada Band and I found myself singing along and chair dancing (too hot to stand up) while we shared grapes with Gaetane. Afterwards we talked with Bob about playing different venues in Alberta and his experiences playing in a resort bar in Mexico. Cool stuff.

Brian let us camp out an extra evening on the site when everyone else had gone home. Jon and I helped him hang some flowers painted on plywood down at "The End of the World". When Elegwen joined us later, we sat around the fire and Brian told us about Pastafarian-ism and we cooked the rest of our hot dogs. In the morning we packed up (all the instruments we in the front seats of the van), had a final swim in the lake and hit the Yellowhead Trail for Edmonton.

The Pooka was having a hard time getting up the hill to the highway and we hoped it was just cold from sitting still for three days...
JO

North Country Fair

Damanta spent the solstice playing the North Country Fair in Driftpile, Alberta from June 19-22

Well, when we last left The Pooka (Damanta’s tour Van, a 1973 VW Westphalia) it was in Canmore getting repaired after losing the starter engine in Banff on the way to Calgary. Elegwen spent a week in Canmore at the Wapiti Municipal Campground with James the manager playing music and selling T-shirts and CDs and to pay for gas money to get home. With the repairs completed he headed home and busted the alternator belt in Salmon Arm. Canadian Tire charged him an hour of shop labour to install it and then outside of Hell’s Gate on the Trans-Canada he lost power and couldn’t restart resulting in a $500 tow to Hope. This is all to say that The Pooka was not available for service when it was time to head to North Country Fair from June 19th to 22rd.

So we had to fly to Edmonton and catch the $15(!) airport shuttle into the Greyhound Station where Matt, our bassist in Alberta, would pick us up. Bus stations are never the most wholesome places in any given town and Edmonton’s was no exception. We unloaded our gear between garbage cans that hadn’t been emptied since King Ralph had abdicated and the regurgitated remains of somebody’s alcohol and pizza binge of a few days previous. On the plus side, there were no used syringes in sight!

So it was not surprising that I was happier than could normally be expected when Matt rounded the corner in his mom’s Ford _AURU_ (formerly Taurus). He drove us to his parents’ place, an amazingly appointed dwelling near the provincial museum off Stony Plain road to meet up with Todd Biffard the drummer and rehearse for the first time as a unit.

The practice went really well, with Todd and Matt, who had played together previously in their days at Humber College in Toronto, finding their groove immediately and Elegwen and I hopping on for the ride. We packed up for a show across town at The Blue Chair. Without the roof rack installed it took two trips to get the gear and band over. Once at the the Blue Chair I learned the hard lesson about cultivating a fan base. Without one you have shows like this where there are only five people in attendance (and three of them were Matt’s parents and his brother, Malcom). From this point on we were more diligent getting emails to develop the fan list so this would not happen again. Incidentally, Elegwen did manage to sell a CD to the other couple that were there…

After the show Matt took Todd home and began phoning friends to see who we could crash with. We ended up at the Yates’ place on the North Side. What great people! Warren and Fiona offered us not only shelter but a chance to jam. Even though Matt had a TV gig the next morning he stuck around long enough to show some upright bass chops on some Damanta material.

Fiona gave us a ride to Matt’s in the morning and we arrived in time to help Matt’s Dad, Malcolm and Todd install the roof box we would need to get all the stuff to the fair. Matt got back a bit late from his TV gig (promoting the Jazz Fest) and we didn’t quite have the car loaded so we didn’t actually leave until 2pm—We were on at 6:30 and it was a four hour drive...We got a speeding ticket just outside of the city limits and then stopped at the worst stocked and worst staffed truck stop I have ever been to (and having done a ton of bicycle touring, I’ve stopped at quite a few…)in North America. With a bit extra juice on the accelerator-but not so much that the RCMP would object, Matt got us there half an hour before our set. We knew we weren’t in Kansas (or Vancouver) anymore when we pulled off the highway onto the backroads and began to see bullet riddled street and stop signs.

Despite some feedback issues (hey, it was early in the festival for the sound guys too!) it was a pretty good set to open a festival. Attendance was spotty as we were the second act on stage and most people were setting up their campsites. After the set I discovered one of the things that makes NCF special—they have a instrument check. You leave your stuff backstage and porters(!) take it to the trailer for you. I could get used to this folk star life if this is what it’s like!


After the set we were heading to the performer tent to get our badges, wristbands, programs and such when we came up against an SUV on the access road. Matt gave a little bit too much room and…We ended up in the ditch. Fortunately, the facilities organizer was coming by on a quad and promised to get the tractor immediately to pull us out. Todd and I continued on foot and Elegwen and Matt remained behind to wait for rescue. It was then that they met the Ory Noman band and Deep Dark woods for the first time.

After we sorted the performer stuff and the car we got to experience the next thing that makes NCF special: The Food. Performers and volunteers are fed three times a day by volunteers. What a great deal. Free camping, free food AND porters. What more could you ask for?!?

How about all night mayhem? Performances at this solstice themed festival go until 3am and campfire jams go even longer. I was not ready for this. With all the marking, moving and running around for Tarkin’s CD release I was way too tired to be out past 1am. This is not to say I didn’t enjoy myself that first night. I met and learned from members of Deep Dark Woods and The Re-Mains, a country rock and roll outfit from Australia that are touring Canada this summer. Mick, the band’s dobro player, told me about how he changed the shocks in their van in a Thunder Bay, Canadian Tire parking lot. I marvelled at his mechanical prowess and wondered what passer by thought of it all while it was going on.

Matt and I then proceeded to grace the campfire with the worst rendition of “Have you Ever Seen the Rain” that human ears have been subjected to (yes, even worse than this!); Matt singing like and instrumentalist and myself compounding the issue by playing the wrong chords and not knowing the lyrics. Strangely, everyone else began commenting about how hard their travel had been and mentioning their early sets tomorrow at that point…I went over and saw Kris Demeanour, from Sakatchewan, on a side stage but bailed before the Re-Mains were on when the stage lost its generator.

OUR set actually was early (translation: at noon) the next morning. Todd, who’d been up since 9:30am, got the rest of us going. Elegwen had stayed up late for the Re-Mains and also saw the Ory Noman Too band who he couldn’t get enough of (see youtube link above). Once again the crowd was sparse but we did a pretty good set at the Shady Grove stage. Bits of this performance can be seen on Youtube in the video for Fall Song.

Afterwards we met with the Nicky Tams to discuss our Sunday workshop on the main stage. We practiced some arrangements, learned each other's tunes and then it was time for the evening entertainment. I saw Deep Dark Woods at the Dragonfly stage and the Re-Mains on the main stage. I crashed out “early” at 12am even though it was still twilight out. It was pretty shocking how long it stays light that far north. No Northern Lights though.

A thunderstorm came overnight and it was still raining Sunday when we got up for our set. It was really fun even if we began to realize that as the new kids on the NCF block we were getting the least choice performance times. The Nicky Tams have a fantastic guitarist named Jeff Ramsey so I played tenor banjo for the whole set. A nice stretch of the brain for me and it allowed for some cool sounds. We finished the set with Tool’s “Sober” and when, as had happened several times over the weekend, the power went out we just played it acoustic at the edge of the stage and everyone gathered up front to dance and sing along. Miraculously, the power cam back in right on the downbeat and the place went nuts.

The rest of the day was petty chilled out as people began to pack up. We got to witness the closing ceremony of the festival in which Mary Rankin of Edmonton sings a song whose chorus is, “Love, Love, Love, Love. Love, Love, Love, Love,” while everyone present joins hands and circles around each other. I’ve never seen anything like it and will likely not again until I return to NCF. I got to walk around the HUGE site with Matt and Todd and learned the hard way that when the campers go home, the toilet paper in the port-a-johns is not replaced. Good thing I had my NCF program with me!

We collected our merchandise and sales proceeds, had dinner and were getting ready for a chilled out evening when Elegwen said we should play at the volunteers party in the evening. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stay up that late but the Re-Mains were going to play and I wanted to see them again so I agreed. Elegwen actually got to sit in with the guys with his uilleann pipes. We had to wait a long time afterwards before we went on and I surprised myself when I loaned my guitar to the group preceding us. It was super cold and I had on my Newfoundland Salt and Pepper wool hat, an Aran Islands sweater and a scarf when we hit the stage around 2am.

During sound check a fiddler was plugging in and I figured he was playing the between acts filler slot. The sound guy though he was with us and nobody really questioned his presence until Elegwen asked him, “Are you meant to play with us?” He answered in the affirmative and while we were wondered who had set this up we were happy to have a fiddler play along. We opened with “The Drunken Priests of Donegal” and 2/3 of the way through the song our fiddler friend leans into his mic and says, “Guys! Guys, we have to start again!”

Needless to say we kept playing and after the song the sound guy came up to me and asked, “What is with your fiddler?!?”

“He’s not with us,” I responded. Security removed him quickly after that. Later on I heard he dropped two tabs of acid.

We absolutely rocked the rest of the set. It was our biggest crowd of the festival and they really enjoyed it. Then again, it could have been the drugs. I’ve never been in a place with so many high people in my life. It was quite surreal to be one of the only sober people there. We played Jethro Tull’s “Acres Wild” the best we’d done all weekend and the Tool cover went over well again. I can’t wait to try some effects on the banjo for that one.

We were up early the next day and with no deadline had a more sedate ride home: with no tickets, no going in the ditch and no near misses getting on the highway (like during Friday night's beer run). I'm not saying anything about Matt's driving here, I'm just saying...

Seriously though, we would not have been able to get there and have so much fun without him and his family's help. So on behalf of the band I'd like to thank Matt for driving and Matt's parents' for the use of the car, the roof rack and the house as a base for the weekend. It's the way bands like Damanta can continue to tour. Thanks a million!

JO

Charming...to the last

In early June my old band Tarkin released it's second CD on June 6th. This post details the making of the record and the band's final three shows

When I arrived back in Vancouver, Heidi got me at the airport and drove me directly to DMA Discs where I picked up the new Tarkin CD. It had arrived one business day late for the Northwest Folklife spot…So we lost a chance to sell a bunch of discs but we did get them in time to promote our CD release shows in Vancouver and Victoria. (At Right: The Stage at Troy's. Halloween '06)

I had really pushed to make a second CD even after it became apparent that the band’s end was near. Two couples were now married (one couple expecting) and moving to Montreal (coincidentally but for different reasons). I even briefly considered doing an education masters degree at McGill to keep the band going but when I looked it up I only had a week to get a month’s worth of documents together…So the band wasn’t going to continue in Montreal and the CD would be its swansong.

Tarkin always had a cautious group dynamic born of the three female members’, Vanessa Kay, Amanda Ruel and Rachael Young, previous experience living together and knowing when to push and when to pull back. When couples formed and marriages ensued this became even more pronounced and it made getting the CD project off the ground a slow build. There was concern about cost and whether we could do the songs justice by making a product we could be proud of. (The back seat of 'The Gerbil'--Vancouver Island/Galiano Island tour Summer '06: l-r Amanda, Rachael and Vanessa)

These concerns weren’t without some merit. Every one in the band has a full time job with the exception of Ben (who was trying to finish his PhD--He did it. Congrats Dr. Young!) and Amanda who are/were full time students working to pay tuition. In addition to that Rachael and Ben were expecting a child. However, everyone made sacrifices from their busy lives to make it work. In my case I had to scale back my extra-curricular coaching at school but this allowed me to take some guitar lessons and practice more.

Ben took the executive producer’s role, I took on the booklet design process, CD pressing, and organizing the release party. Vanessa went sleuthing on the internet for authors of the BC folk songs we would record on the album. The girls worked together to chart the arrangements and Rachael began liaising with Tim Readman, our first CD’s producer who consulted on our new arrangements and Victor Smith, who engineered the first CD, The Ghost of that Whisky, and who would put grace the new record with his personal stamp, polishing it into gem in the process.

We were better prepared for the studio the second time around and everyone was more comfortable working with Victor’s suggestions which made us more efficient in the use of our studio time. Ben was instrumental here, prioritizing the recording sessions and sending people and Rachael made sure everyone showed up when they were supposed to.

I enlisted my friend Paul Krueger to design the CD album art. He used a picture he took at Finn Slough (up the Fraser River from the Steveston national historic site) and a line sketch Amanda had made of the band. He gave us an amazing product. On the recommendation of Matt Bryant of one of my favourite Vancouver bands, Headwater, I chose DMA (Digital Media Alliance) for our CD pressing and I didn’t regret it. They turned the product around quickly and we very helpful in dealing with all the legal paperwork.

So the CD sounded great, looked great and arrived in time for the release shows (always a good thing!). Now, it was time to put together a party. Oops I had to move the weekend before. Good thing I didn't have to get my final marks into the office (I AM a teacher remember!) the day before the move.

We had rented The St. James’ Hall, home to the Rouge Folk Club, and Vanessa had convinced national alt-folk stars Dyad, to play the show with us. My friend Len Dejulius agreed to run the bar and the usual team of Tarkin volunteers helped us set up and run the show. Troy and Nina Spreeuw ran their respective merchandise and concession tables and Matt Ellis handled the door. I opened up for Jay the sound man at 5pm, set up tables, chairs and posters, stocked the bar and even spoke to a few people before sound check.

When Dyad went on the house lights weren't on as they were locked up and the key wasn't provided by the hall. After trying vallinatly to find a solution we settled on the house lights and I worked the bar for Len so he could enjoy the set. I sat there ripping tickets and pouring DUDE beer into plastic cups worried about my ability to perform. I was pretty worn out by marking, the move, doing radio shows and putting the party together during a regular work week and I was worried about my ability to perform. I looked tired and I felt really empty.

But when the lights came up (our friend and special guest bass clarinet player Mike Dowler had picked the lock during intermission) and we stepped through the curtains all pain and fatigue drained away. I have never had a better performance with the band. All the guitar playing I had been doing with Damanta had sharpened my skills, the work with Amanda I did on vocals was showing through and I was really proud of the new CD and revelling in the chance to showcase the new songs for an appreciative audience. I think the whole band was. It really was a magical evening.

It was an unfortunate allegory for the band that we had to end earlier than we and the crowd wanted due to St. James’ rental policy of being out of the building by 11pm. We only did one encore and a bit of schmoozing (as a band) before the takedown was on. I actually did very little packing up as more people that I know came to this show than any other I’ve done. It was a bit surreal. Many people commented that we were really coming into our own as a band and how unfortunate it was that we were wrapping up.

We would play two more shows as after the CD release and they were both memorable. The Victoria Folk Song Society hosted us that Sunday (June 8th) and we got a really great crowd response and more comments about how we’d improved since our last visit. The audience included my friend Wendy Lesard and two of her French Immersion teacher friends who really enjoyed our rendition of "Chasse aux Perdreaux" from the new CD.

It was really nice to get one more visit with Ben’s parents, Joe and Maralin, who are the whole band’s Victoria mom and dad. They’ve treated us so well during the life of the band. They are true fans of acoustic folk music and I am glad they got to enjoy our final Victoria show. I and, we as a band, will always be grateful for all the rides, meals and the use of their house as a base when we were in Victoria. (Right: Tarkin at the VFSS in August '06--Back row l-r: Ben, Rachael, Marc and Vanessa. Front: Amanda)

The final gig for Tarkin was at Trees Organic Coffee house on Granville street in Vancouver. It is a Friday night, local artist showcase event run by songwriter Jon Pippus. We brought in a decent crowd of friends who missed the release show or just wanted to be there for the final one and the other performers were really great. We went on first and really had a blast. When we played Run both Marc, who wrote and sings the song, and I did the “running man” dance step and he did his trademark run outside during the final instrumental. The crowd ate it up. I was having so much fun that I was stunned when it was over.

We sold a bunch of CDs (including one to a couple who’d heard us on the radio!) before Ghost Brothers took the stage. I really enjoyed their set. They are brothers who’ve been all around the world learning and playing music together and it shows. Their vocals and instrumentals were so connected to each other and the variety of their sound was impressive. They’ve just finished their own CD and I was stoked to trade one with them.

Some of our oldest fans showed up during the GB set and were sad to have missed our set. After thanking them for being so supportive of them band from the beginning—we played house parties for the whole gang when we were starting out—one of them said they couldn’t believe it was our last show. Neither could I.

I was consumed in that moment by a sense of loss. I’d learned so much about music, performing and myself from the band that I never could have learned on my own. I’ve done things for them and had things done for me that I’d never have expected of mere friends. It was more than that. It was a band--my first. Tarkin was really special for me and I hope everyone else feels the same way.

(Above: Performing as the Canadian Village People at Troy's Halloween Party '06. l-r Amanda: The Cowboy, Marc: The Biker, Rachael: The Sailor, Vanessa: The Logger, The Author: The Mountie, Ben: THe Construction Worker)


Amanda, Ben, Marc, Rachael and Vanessa: Thank you for all the incredible memories and all the times (both the good and the trying ones) that we spent together. I’ve grown immensely from the experience. I know that I am not the easiest person to work with so you probably deserve some kind of medal. I truly hope we get to hit the stage again together in the future.

May the Force be with you…always,

JO