Between The Rock And A Hard Place: Newfoundland, Great Big Sea, Alan Doyle, And Even Russell Crowe

"It Must Have Been Amazing" Part Two - Answering The Question Posed in "Tonight" & Making A Hairy Sacrifice For Daffodil Place

It takes something pretty darn wonderful to get me to interrupt a Habs Stanley Cup playoff game. Or someone.

From the April 24th online edition of The Telegram :

Michael Martin meets Alan Doyle, of Great Big Sea, his inspiration for the Daffodil Place fundraiser he planned. Moments later Martin shaved his head. The inset photo shows Martin before and after his drastic cut. — Photo by Gary Hebbard/The Telegram

Michael Martin, 10, shaved his head after raising $2,000 in donations for Daffodil Place.
The Hazelwood Elementary School student was shocked to see his inspiration for the project — Great Big Sea member Alan Doyle — walk into the assembly at his school's gym and beamed when the musician thanked him for raising funds for Daffodil Place.

Martin had been growing his hair for two and a half years and hopes the locks will be made into a wig for a child with cancer.

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As for that question that gets asked in Tonight...the answer to that one - the answer coming from over here - is "Yes".  Most definitely and unequivocally, "Yes."  Same answer tomorrow night as well. 

(And, yes, I edited the article to correct the spelling of his name. Blogger's privilege once again.)

Now back to my game.  Which is suddenly coming off the rails, at the moment.

"It Must Have Been Amazing" - New Great Big Sea Single 'Walk On The Moon' From Upcoming CD "Fortune's Favour" Released April 21st & Making The Dream Of Daffodil Place A Reality

First and foremost, where to go to hear the new GBS single, Walk On The Moon:

Great Big Sea MySpace Page

And for those willing to request it at their favourite local radio station, that would be an even better place to hear the new single.

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There are those times when others say it best:

Waiting for the ferry, tickets in our hand,
Good people that were never out of sight of land.
Waiting for the ferry, tickets in our hand,
Good people that you knew would never understand.

Could've brought you whisky, could've brought you wine,
The only thing I can't bring is time, time, time

And we're all on board,
It's not very far to ride.
Your river is not like Jordan
We'll meet on the other side.  - "Not Like Jordan," Ian Telfer/Alan Prosser

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From Alan Doyle's 2003 Journal Entries:

I am sitting in a Nashville hotel room waiting for a call from another songwriter to head to a publishing company, where we will sit in a cubicle and write songs from noon till five. The afternoon session. That's how they do it here in the song factory that is the Music City. In the world of songwriters, Nashville is the Mecca and while I am a little leery of the office-like hours, I am very excited to be here in the land of so many greats.   (September 8th)

That was intense. Wrote three songs in a day and a half with Gordie Sampson. If only one of them makes the cut, that would still be a huge success. What a cool experience, anyway. If nothing else, I can say in concerts, "I wrote this next song in Nashville."   (September 10th)

A great night at the Parish, and a great romp through the underworld of the city, will have to carry us through to the next concert. Thanks to the audience for letting us play so many new songs. Played "Walk on the Moon" for the first time last night, a song that I wrote with Gordie Sampson in Nashville.   (September 22nd)

And this from Alan in 2004:

This week has been a trip down memory lane. Gas station stops in Shediac and Sackville were once monthly occurrences for GBS, but in the last few years I've seen Manhattan more than Moncton. The Maritimes is a special place for us as it will always be the place that gave us our start. The toughest thing for any Newfoundland band is to get off the Rock and secure audiences on the mystical far-off Mainland.

Our first gig "up in Canada", as my grandfather called it well after confederation, was at the Lower Deck in Halifax. I remember being so nervous in the days leading up to the long journey on the Argentia to Sydney Ferry, that I threw up several times. It seemed like such a leap to take our little band to the clubs of the big cities like Halifax.   (November 27th)

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From Sean McCann's Twitter Page, April 20, 2008:

just spent the am in the woods with my 2 best friends (T & M). Sunny, crisp, clear & quiet. I remember why i Stay.

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From Bob Hallett's Journal Archives, Sept. 20, 2007:

That night I left Hotel Bizarre, and found a local beer hall down the street, on the dodgiest fringe of the Reeperbahn. I ordered a gaseous pint, and sat there by myself, trying to figure out what terrible miss-step had led me to this ridiculous point. Now it is all rather funny, but at the time I was ready to chuck the works. Out of the blue on the club stereo came this song - Bittersweet Symphony, by the Verve. It had not been released in North America yet, and it was the first time I had heard it. The hook was instantly killer, but more relevant were the lyrics, “It’s a bittersweet symphony, in my head…”. Indeed, I thought. And then the refrain “I can change, I can change, I can change…”.

My sad-eyed and silent drinking companions stared at me resentfully, flexing their swollen knuckles, my interloper status obvious to all. Too late, the Verve had already imparted their ounce of magic. For a moment at least, I did not give a *** what they thought of me, nor did I care what new nightmare the next day would bring. Germany could not defeat us that easily. I loved that song then, and I love it now.

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I'm not at all sure it's possible for me to write about Walk On The Moon, any version thereof, with much objectivity. The night I first heard Alan sing this song, it caught me completely by surprise; I was wide open and totally defenseless. That show at the Parish had already been a sweet oasis in the midst of a hard crossing, and when Alan came out at the end for his solo encore and said a few words about doing one of three songs he and Gordie had just written in Nashville a week or so ago, his words cut a swift and sure path straight through an unguarded heart.

I knew exactly where I had been on that same Nashville day when those three wonderful songs - just how wonderful all three were would not be known for several more months, when Something Beautiful was released and Lucky Me and Let It Go could also be heard - had been written: Huddled in my own Music City hotel room, feeling battered and bruised and at an utter loss to comprehend that which was going to take several more years to understand, as well as to continue paying the price for. The friend who had been with me the night before at the GBS/Cowboy Mouth Nashville show at the Exit/In - a show which had been hard times in and of itself - was supposed to drop me off at the bus terminal early that morning for the long ride to College Station, Texas, but I could not bring myself to leave that hotel room, not until I had some assurance of which bus I would choose once I got to the terminal. I hid in my hotel room all that long day, searching for the resolve to go forward. And Alan wrote three of the most honest and genuine and powerful songs he has ever written that day, all of them in their own ways about searching for - and perhaps finding - the resolve to go forward.

Not that I knew any of this about his Nashville songs as he was introducing this one; all I knew was that his introductory words had immediately brought back the painful memory of that hotel room; in the space of a few seconds, he had shaken my tentative footing on the less-than-sure ground beneath my feet. As a wound that had scarcely started to heal began to ache and throb all over again...Alan began to play his new song.

No, I do not think I can ever be objective about Walk On The Moon. I loved that song then, and I love it now.

Perhaps how I first heard Walk On The Moon, as a solo encore of Alan's, then followed by waiting for several years for it to resurface and finally hearing it - again as a solo performance - performed by Alan at several Songwriters' Circles in the early months of 2006 plays its own role in my thinking of it as a song even more intimately associated with Alan personally - a song even more true about him personally - than are some of the other songs he has written. Though I do tend to feel the same about all three songs written in his Nashville sessions with the master-collaborator, Gordie Sampson, the man with an uncanny knack for bringing out the best and strongest from whomever he works with.

Taken together, this triad of tunes has always seemed to form a remarkably clear three-dimensional perspective of Gordie's Nashville collaborator: The man who is making peace with what is past in Let It Go, the man who is accepting the bitter and the sweet of the present in Lucky Me, and finally, the man who is resolving to find the courage to reach out and fulfill the desires that lie ahead of him in Walk On The Moon. That trilogy has always been AlanStory to my ears and my heart, with Walk On The Moon being that part of the story that resides most closely in the present-becoming-future, a song that ends with Alan poised in the act of taking his own small step, hesitant uncertainty barely vanquished by tentative hope. Which is the exact position I saw the songwriter himself in during the Fall of 2003.

When GBS began performing Walk On The Moon in the Spring of 2007, their arrangement worked to create an effect very similar to Alan's solo version: the vocals were Alan-dominant, with subtle backup harmonies on the chorus; Bob's fiddle part, on rare occasion his low-whistle part, created an atmosphere of poignant longing; and Kris's swelling drums felt like the pounding of a heart caught between lingering fear and incipient resolve. When Alan sang about the ringing bells, the sound I heard in my mind was that of the church-tower bell tolling the lateness of the hour, an insistent chiming that called out for the facing down of foolish fears and cried out for the giant leap to be made. His lead vocal always had that perfect rough and raw edge of impassioned longing.

The smile on Alan's face at the end of each performance of Walk On The Moon brought back the memory of a rainy night in New Orleans, with all of the familiar ache of tentative hope and newfound resolve. Walk On The Moon was now a Great Big Sea song, but its truth and power were still to be found in AlanStory. Just as I had with the living-room version of Sea Of No Cares, I loved how in Walk On The Moon a rightful place had been made upon the Great Big Sea stage for the truths of hesitant uncertainty and tentative hope; God knows these truths occupy their own familiar places in the Great Big Sea world. 

When I first heard the single-release version of Walk On The Moon, the version that will appear on the upcoming GBS CD, Fortune's Favour (due out June 24th), it startled me. Not so much because of the sound; I've known for some time about how different the songs on this CD are going to sound, even knew to expect "tympani and bells". Actually, I think the sound of this single is amazing - "lush" comes to mind as an apt adjective. Keyboards, drums, orchestration, and of course those bells, sound absolutely gorgeous, and that is one of the strongest and most sure of all of Alan's recorded vocals I have ever heard; I can almost see his fist clenched in emphasis as his voice powers through and then resolutely holds the climactic notes. As much as it is possible for me to try to imagine what it would be like hearing Walk On The Moon for the first time in this version - as will be true for the vast majority of people who will hear it for the first time this way - I think I would have been as impressed by it as I was the first time I heard Sea Of No Cares, more so, in fact, since Walk On The Moon is a lyrically stronger song, as well as being more instrumentally sophisticated in this incarnation.

But then, I had not yet heard the "living-room version" of Sea Of No Cares when I first heard the radio/CD version of that song. I had no idea how that song was written to sound and would not for several years. When I did finally hear the original version of SoNC, with all of its underlying wistfully tenuous hope set free to touch and move and even break a tender heart, even with as much as I had loved - as much as I still love and will always love - the confident, celebratory delight of the radio/CD version, still, it was, and it continues to be, the living-room version that rings the most true, to my own heart and to what can be glimpsed of the songwriters themselves. And yet there is no doubt that the other version - the version so much more in compliance with the accepted and expected image of GBS as upbeat and uplifting and inspiring and unflaggingly optimistic - carries its own measure of truth within it. Truth is seldom as conveniently immutable and reassuringly fixed as we might prefer it to be; instead, it exists in shifting measures across wide spectrums of space and time - often obscure, frequently partial, persistenly elusive.

It was not the substantial differences in the sound of this new version of Walk On The Moon that  startled me - though I suspect that some listeners will indeed by surprised by the polished production and instrumental intricacies of the song, a surprise I sincerely hope is as pleased and delighted as is deserved - but instead the yet-more-substantial differences in the truth of the song, that is, in what the song is about and how it makes the listener (this listener at least) feel and respond. 

The live version of Walk On The Moon, as it has been performed thus far, has told the story of one man's awareness of the lateness of the hour, of his realisation that it is his own fears which are preventing him from moving ahead and achieving his heart's desire, and of his resolve to break free from those fears and face the risks that come with venturing boldly into unknown and unfamiliar terrain. And as it has been performed thus far, the song offers no guarantee of ultimate success, only the promise of newfound hope and the potential of nascent resolve. Using the same metaphor the song uses, that of the Apollo 11 lunar landing and Neil Armstrong's unforgettable words spoken as he took that first step on the moon, the song concludes at the moment when Armstrong, climbing slowly down the landing module's ladder and looking over his shoulder at the approaching ground, reaches out and carefully plants a foot down on the lunar soil.

The new version of Walk On The Moon tells a somewhat different tale. It is arranged in such a way as to swell and soar, the bells now pealing triumphantly over the act accomplished rather than chiding insistently about the act not yet done. Alan's lead vocal is strong and powerful, confident and assured, no edge of doubt or uncertainty to be heard, and that big, big chorus takes the individual's moment of decision and transforms it into a collective celebration of Everyone's successes, an effect that is going to be overpowering in the video if Vision Film really does use submitted photos of the triumphant accomplishments of many others.

Photos of the instant of momentuous decisions which once made might, or might not, lead to such triumphant accomplishments are a far scarcer commodity; such decisions are most often made when we are all alone, most often made in the dark, quiet moments of the soul. Again, using the lunar-landing metaphor as a template, the effect of this version of the song goes on past that first step onto an amazing new world; actually, it more or less begins at that moment and carries through to a mental image of the astronauts leaping and bounding across the lunar landscape, filled with delight over having slipped the surly bonds of their native world.

This version of Walk On The Moon is uplifting and inspiring, powerfully so; it leaves no uncertainty, no hesitancy, no doubt of final outcome. It is an anthem of victory waiting to be sung with conviction by the combined voices of those whose hearts it will encourage as they sing with one another about themselves. Despite the surface differences in instrumentation, it is the arrangement of those very instruments, along with the vocals, which causes the overall effect and impact of this song to be one consistent with what is familiar and comfortable, much-loved and expected, in the music of Great Big Sea.

Does that mean this version is therefore not true, compared to the solo or the group live versions? Of course not. Songs are very much like people: Some are shallow and and one-dimensional, others are interesting but limited, and then there are those which are dynamic and complex, deliciously challenging and delightfully contradictory in all of their many facets and faces. As it was also for Sea Of No Cares, so too is Walk On The Moon deep enough and strong enough and wise enough to embody more than one facet of that which is true; just as the moments of tentative hope leading to individual decision are true, so too are the moments of collective celebration of triumphant accomplishment true. The song itself looks back into the past to just such a triumphant accomplishment, a past truth, as its own central metaphor, as well as for its own catalyst for an equivalent courage in the achieving of a present truth.

The more I thought about that past truth, the more I began to think about other past truths, other walks on the moon that truly were triumphant accomplishments rather than tentative first steps. What came swift and sure to mind in regard to GBS was that first crossing made by four frightened young men, one of them literally sick with nervousness, on the ferry from Argentia to North Sydney; if ever there were a giant leap, if ever there were a brave journey to a completely new world, if ever there were a triumphant accomplishment worthy of celebrating, if ever there were a walk on the moon...that moment was and is all of that. 

One of many such moments, collective and individual, I am sure, with many more still ahead. Most of us, unless we lead very narrow lives, reach that same point where the song's speaker finds himself - standing before a half-open door, poised on the knife-edge between fear and hope - numerous times in our lives; most of us, unless we are very unfortunate, make the choice to set aside our foolish fears and pass through the open door at least some of those times. And every once in a while, we find our heart's desire on the other side. Each of those times, we have our "one shot," our one chance to pass through that particular door, and each time we make the choice to do so, we have the hope of seeing an amazing world on the other side.

While I personally hope that the less-familiar and perhaps less-comfortable facets of truth, the ones that confront and embrace doubt and uncertainty and as-yet-unfulfilled longing, will eventually find their way into a more realistic balance with the more inspiring and uplifting facets of truth in the music and on the stages of Great Big Sea, I have to say that I think the label's choice of Walk On The Moon as the first single release may very well be quite canny. From all I have heard, a number of songs on Fortune's Favour are quite a departure from what is customarily expected from GBS in both sound and sense, so leading into this brand new Hawksley Workman-produced CD with a song that surfacely sounds different and yet evokes a familiar response could be exactly the right choice in introducing the new music. Time will have to tell on that count. For now, I will be content with, as well as grateful for, two beautiful versions of a song I will always love, a song which in any and all of its incarnations will always be AlanStory to me.

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I've been collectiing Daffodil Place  articles and not getting around to putting them up, so here are a few of the ones I've enjoyed the most. The fundraising campaign has been going wonderfully well; this is one dream that is going to become reality, and Alan's efforts continue to be an integral part of making that very worthy dream come true. This is one of those times when he makes it very easy to be proud of him. 

Exit Realty on the Rock has pledged $100 thousand to the Daffodil Place Campaign and announced details of an upcoming fundraising event in September.

Exit Realty on the Rock broker Anne Squires filled up Thursday, recalling when she was a teenager in a small town and her father was diagnosed with cancer. When he had to travel to St. John's for treatment they were short the money neccessary for accomodations. She says that's when she went to a local jeweler and traded in her ring to pay rent for her dad. She says had Daffodil place been around, her father would have had that home away from home when he needed it the most. Today, she is working to assure others have that home. Exit Realty pledged $100 thousand to the campaign on Thursday after a successful fundraiser last June. As well, they have released details of an event coming up in September dubbed, "Exit Realty on the Rock Rocks the Rock with Peter Mansbridge", a black tie gala at the Delta in September. Campaign Chair John Steele says he is overwhelmed. - from VOCM

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Daffodil Place contribution

Corby Distilleries Limited donates $30,000 to Daffodil Place

ST. JOHN'S, Feb. 29 /CNW/ - The Daffodil Place Campaign has received a
generous gift of $30,000 from Lamb's Palm Breeze Amber Rum, Newfoundland's #1
selling spirit brand.

Alan Doyle of Great Big Sea and member of the Daffodil Place Campaign
Cabinet said, "Since Daffodil Place was launched in May of 2007, we have seen
great commitments from corporate entities and we are very pleased to have
Corby Distilleries Limited show their support to the people of Newfoundland
and Labrador by making such a generous gift on behalf of Lamb's Palm Breeze
Amber Rum".

Rick Hollihan of Corby Distilleries Limited, stated that "The 2007
Daffodil fundraising campaign in liquor stores surpassed our expectations, we
are thrilled that consumers showed their support and we are able to give back
to such a worthy cause." Corby Distilleries Limited is a leading Canadian
manufacturer and marketer of spirits and imported wines since 1859. Hollihan
added, "Lamb's Palm Breeze Amber Rum is proud to participate in a project that
touches so many families throughout Newfoundland and Labrador."

Daffodil Place will increase access to care and provide a home away from
home for the growing number of cancer patients seeking treatment. It will also
serve as a community center for a variety of cancer initiatives,  and patient
support programs.

Construction of Daffodil Place is scheduled to begin in the spring with
the doors to Daffodil Place opening in early 2009.

For more information please visit www.daffodilplace.ca

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Government Donation To Daffodil Place

Government donates $500,000 toward the construction of Daffodil Place

The Telegram

The provincial government announced today a donation of $500,000 towards Daffodil Place, a project of the Canadian Cancer Society that will provide accommodations for people who must travel to St. John’s for cancer treatment.

Premier Danny Williams and Health Minister Ross Wiseman made the announcement and was joined by John Steele, chairman of the Daffodil Place Campaign Committee, committee members and members of the board of directors of the Newfoundland and Labrador Division of the Canadian Cancer Society.
“Daffodil Place is a project that promises to have tremendous positive impacts in helping individuals battling cancer who are away from the comforts of their own homes,” Williams said. “I commend the Canadian Cancer Society for its vision and dedication in initiating this project and I am very pleased that our government is providing this substantial support. Travelling from rural areas to the capital city is an added burden for those receiving medical treatment, so I cannot think of a better investment to provide assistance and comfort to those individuals who will be in need of this facility.”

The Canadian Cancer Society will begin construction of Daffodil Place soon, with an opening date in early 2009. The 24-suite facility will provide not only accommodations, but a full range of programs and services for cancer patients and their families.

Steele said the project is a showing of care for the people of Newfoundland and Labrador who will benefit from Daffodil Place.

“Without a doubt, this contribution will be very welcome news for people from all parts of the province who have been touched by cancer,” he said.

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One last edited-in comment that I cannot resist making:  Way to go, Habs!...said with all due respect to the Bruins, who fought hard and played well. Here's hoping the next round will be considerably less thrilling.

"You Know The World Could Be Your Oyster" Part Two: Oysterband and Great Big Sea At Hugh's Room (Videos And Sort-Of Photos), An Unforgettable Evening

ETA: Shame on me for forgetting to put this in the first go-round because it really was something cool that deserved better recall. Good enough last night during the hockey when the Newfoundland & Labrador Tourism commercial came on and Ordinary Day was to be heard for the first time; best of all was when the song was heard again, this time in a commercial for the Hockey Hall Of Fame. Whoever negotiated that deal deserves a pat on the back because it is an excellent example of the perfect PR deal: Being connected to the HHOF makes Great Big Sea look good and being connected to GBS makes the Hockey Hall Of Fame look good. It's a match made in Advertising Heaven. And it made me hoot so loudly with delight that I think the people in the next room - also watching the game, and presumably the commercial too - must have wondered what the heck was going on next door.

On a much less laudable note, I also forgot to mention that last night we saw a couple originally seated near our table buy the seats right out from under two people sitting up at stage edge at Hugh's. Were they diehard Oyster fans wanting to get close to a band they'd been waiting years to see? Not too likely, given how Alan almost never got himself free of the missus post-show. I'm beginning to wonder if this trend of relying on hard, cold cash to make one's way Nearer My GBS To Thee is something new, or is it just that I'm paying closer attention?

Overall, it truly was an unforgettable evening at Hugh's Room last night. It's not all that often I wind up having to wait nearly six years to see a band I've come to love play live, so the sweet satisfaction of the moment caught me a bit by surprise. I've been casting about since last night trying to come up with one word to describe Oysterband, and though it still does not do them full justice, so far what keeps coming to mind is "masterful": Oysterband is a complete and impeccable work of art - sterling songwriting quality (lyrics, melody lines, chord progressions included), rich and varied vocals backed up by smoothly blended harmonies, a musicianship that is simultaneously precise and relaxed, excellent stage presence, and maybe most striking of all, they come across as being unflappably comfortable with who they are, with one another, and with what they are doing.

About the only thing that might have made the night even better than it was would have been to be able to see Oysterband playing in front of "their" crowd. While most of those at Hugh's started out attentively polite and wound up thoroughly persuaded by the final song, still, I'd love to see this band walk out onto a stage and be greeted from the outset by the already-persuaded who show them the enthusiasm and respect they so richly deserve. Which is not to say that I did not find it thoroughly pleasurable to observe that process of persuasion taking place last night; it was a bit like watching a successful act of seduction occur. And the folks at Hugh's appeared to be enjoying every moment of being so seduced.

And while there was also the inevitable show-after-the-show there for the observing - rather like attending the umpteenth performance of some been-running-for-decades Broadway play (Tonight, the role of Grizabella will be played by _______ ) - the appeal of that predictable setpiece paled considerably when compared to having an intelligent and thought-provoking conversation with someone I really have missed talking to and to receiving a revealing and even-more-thought-provoking double-edged (as well as partial) answer to a question that's been on my  mind for the past month or so. Both the conversation and most especially the answer have engendered yet more questions, of course, which is to say that both have made me think, and think hard - my very own definition of "being made happy" by GBS, I suppose.  I hope it was good for them too; I especially hope they got to spend as much time with the Oysterband fellows as they'd wanted. 

 

Setlist from Oysterband show at Hugh's:

First Set
Over The Water
Be Good, Be Lucky
Where The World Divides
Walking Down The Road
Street Of Dreams
Here Comes The Flood
Polkas/Ceili Tunes
Bury Me Standing
The Deserter

Second Set
Native Son
By Northern Lights
Uncommercial Song
Oxford Girl
Be My Luck
John Barleycorn
Just One Life
Dancing As Fast As I Can
Road To Santiago
Granite Years

Encores
World Turned Upside Down/Give Peace A Chance (Get Out Of Iraq)
Put Out The Lights
When I'm Up I Can't Get Down/Bright Morning Star (with Great Big Sea)

Videos:

This song is one of my favourites from the new Oysterband CD, Meet You There, because of its wryly-edged lyrics and the well-pounded guitar part that reminds me of the fast hands/strong wrists style of another guitar-pounder whose work I admire.

Here Comes The Flood, Oysterband, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008       (220 MB)

Socialism's orphan child
Unimpressed, unreconcilled
Some people think I'm crazy, but I'm  not
Here comes the flood.

An achingly vulnerable version of a haunted song that makes it all the more haunting:

Oxford Girl (acoustic), Oysterband, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008       (205 MB)

I never had a chance to prove them wrong
My time was short, the story long
No I never had a chance to prove them wrong
It's always them that write the song.

The song off the new CD that has laid its claim on me is Dancing As Fast As I Can, which closely approaches my definition of a perfect song - sound and sense locked in tight embrace with truth. And from the first time I heard it, every time since that I have heard it, it strikes me as the song I'd have wanted to write about Alan, if I were a songwriter.  I was so lost in that same thought as they began to play the song at this show that I forgot to start the video till partway through.

Dancing As Fast As I Can (partial), Oysterband, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008       (150MB)

You can trust in power the music,
You can trust in the power of prayer,
But it's all in white of your knuckles
That's keepin' this plane in the air.
I got scar tissue, I got cash in hand
Got a season ticket to the Promised Land
And I do this for a livin', mister, don't you understand?
And I'm dancing, dancing, dancing as fast as I can.

Performed off-mic and at stage-edge (which, given the size of the stage at Hugh's, means " performed in the midst of the audience"), this made for a beautiful and moving close to the main set.

Put Out The Lights (off-mic), Oysterband, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008      (295 MB)

Every place that I have been
Leaves its message on the skin
So many prophecies and signs
So little time, so little time.

And then, once again, the two encore songs with GBS, pure delight witnessing pure delight. Even with the distance, the darkness, and the wobble, it's clear to see how excited the men of GBS were to take the stage with Oysterband, and being able to see their enjoyment would have all by itself made the trip to Hugh's worth it. How excellent and grand that there would also be so much more.

When I'm Up/Bright Morning Star, Oysterband & Great Big Sea, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008      (400 MB)

Exaltation,
Sweet disintegration,
A few discolourations
When it comes on strong;
Up is what he chooses,
The kisses and the bruises;
There's nothing he refuses
When it comes along.
It comes along,
And I am lifted;
I am lifted, I am lifted.

Photos (well, sort of):

When the fellow who does the intros at Hugh's (I think of him as Sea Captain Hugh because of that hat he's been wearing each time I've seen him) requested at the outset that flash photos be limited to the first two songs, that surprised me since I'd been told by those better informed than I that John Jones has a serious dislike for any and all flash photography. Perhaps they were trying to be accommodating to a crowd largely comprised of people seeing them live for the first time. Kind of shame how many lacked the courtesy to abide by the two-song limit; flashes were going off intermittently throughout the entirety of show, for all the good they might have done. Hugh's is a dark venue, and I was far enough back for flash to be of little use. The few photos I did take wound up decidedly sub-par - it was definitely more a night for video, anyway - but here are a just few of the least shitty:

Oysterband, left to right:  Ian Telfer, fiddle; Dil Davies, drums; Chopper, bass and (glorious) cello; John Jones, lead vocals and occasional accordion; Alan Prosser, guitar.

John Jones is a particularly powerful performer, and I'm hoping that the lighting at the Vancouver show will make it possible to get  a decent set of (nonflash) photos that show some of that power, though the videos do a good job at that, with the definite plus of making it possible to hear how wonderful the band sounds. After waiting six years for the first time, it's with a sense of delicious anticipation that I look forward to doing it all again in just a bit more than a week. As always, there are some things wonderful enough to be worth waiting for.

I wonder how long the wait  might be to see  GBS open for the Oysters on a European tour...and then see that bill reversed in North America.  What a splendid time that would be.

"You Know The World Could Be Your Oyster" Part One - Oysterband (& Great Big Sea) At Hugh's Room In TO (video)

ETA: Thanks to a few people for the heads-up on the fake Twitter page. I'd found the blog comment of the "creator" before I even knew about the page, since she was so stunned  as to make that comment about the page within scant minutes of making up the fake Twitter ID. Dear God, talk about a need to get a life...not to mention the priceless irony of being told to "get over yourself" by the same person who has just gone to the time and trouble to create a fake fool persona in your name and make up a series of counterfeit "tweets," neatly begging the question as to exactly who it is who needs to "get over" whom. Perhaps "Twit-ter" is a most appropriate name, after all.  I still say I could write straight nonfiction about fans and be told by every publisher I encounter that the plain, unvarnished truth strains credibility to the breaking point.  One more example of the absurdity these men have lived in the midst of for nearly all of their adult lives...if they ever tried to write about all they have seen and endured, they'd have to call it fiction, for sure.

Not much at all to say that's positive about the skill of this writing attempt, but at least she did get one or two facts straight:  I am indeed quite fond of Alan's soul...and of his pants as well. And that is the sum total of interest I can muster in yet another of the endless series of Fan Wars skirmishes, a decided lack of interest which I see as a good sign in and of itself. Progress.

Back to the sane part of the GBS world:

Non-weekend hotel rate-changes are the force behind a room relocation for today, and since I'm not assured of reliable internet access in tonight's more fiscally responsible choice of accommodations, I've been trying to get my video files from last night's splendid Oysterband show at Hugh's Room to upload. Still working on that up until checkout time here, but the one frigging huge file - the most important one of all, to my own way of thinking - is finally finished. I'll put it up now, and then add what I can as the other files finish, with words and a few (very dark) photos to come at the very end. Words and pictures I can do from the airport tomorrow morning, if  need be, or, if all else fails, via my dialup when I get home tomorrow night.

For now, the very best moments of the evening, at least the very best moments of the onstage part of the evening:

When I'm Up/Bright Morning Star, Oysterband & Great Big Sea, Hugh's Room, Toronto, April 2008      (400 MB)

The file is gigantic and a bit wobbly in places: they segued straight from the first song to the second, and I was standing on a chair with the camera held as high as I could reach; but if it shares one-tenth of how glorious it was to see these men on stage together, it was more than worth the effort making it, and it will be more than worth the effort downloading it.

More to come, all of it wonderful, if perhaps not quite so wonderful as this.

"I'll Make It Worth Your While" Part Three - Alan Right Where He Belongs; Sean's Plunge Into Twit(ter)dom; & Videos Of Hawksley Workman, Producer Of "Fortune's Favour," Great Big Sea's Newest CD

Since I'm still taking a great deal of pleasure in that concept of Alan On The Top/Alan On The Bottom (& Alan In The Middle, of course):

Two versions of a photo from Alan's time onstage with Danu at the Visemollen at last summer's Tonder Festival. See below for more beauty - right around the middle, and then again at the end.

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Everybody's been saying I seem like an odd choice for Great Big Sea, but those fellows really wanted to take the bricks out of the house and put it back together again. - Hawksley Workman,  on producing the soon-to-be-released (June 24th) Great Big Sea CD, Fortune's Favour

But things are looking up. Way up. -  Alan Doyle 

The first time I ever saw Hawksley Workman perform was at the George Street Festival in St. John's, 2004, one of a series of grand performances leading up to GBS's headlining show that evening. In the midst of all of those great performances, Hawskley left me more than a little dazed; I wasn't quite sure what I had just witnessed in terms how to describe or categorise his music and performance dynamic...all I knew for sure was that I had just seen and heard someone amazing.

I've caught Hawksley's shows a few times since, usually at festivals, and he has held me spellbound each and every time. His show last month at Holy Heart Auditorium in St. John's was no exception to that high standard, not for me and not for some 800 others (the majority of them who looked quite at home in this high-school auditorium); if ever an audience was rapt, this would be that audience, and for good reason.

Hawksley Workman is an artist of daunting creativity and passionate commitment, on and off stage, as well as in his successful stints as producer. The mere thought of GBS's wanting to "take the bricks out of the house and put it back togther again" is a thought full of wonder and hope all on its own; that they would choose Hawksley Workman to oversee such a promising renovation project makes the wait until the June 24th-release date of Fortune's Favour near-unbearable. I hope that first single they're shooting video for here in TO this weekend comes out soon. Why do the best things always require so much patience?

I agree with Alan: Things are looking up.

I'm not even going to try to write a normal "review" of Hawksley's Holy Heart show, largely because I lack sufficient familiarity - lack the proper context, as Bob might say - with the wide range of music Hawksley and his band played that night; I have been told quite a few of the numbers were creatively bold re-workings of his older songs and a few were tunes not heard live in a very long time, the latter which could be distinguished by the immediate outcries of surprised delight from the faithful in attendance, who appeared to make up most of the crowd. For those curious about Hawksley's current shows in support of his (sometimes-breathtakingly-beautiful) new CD, Between The Beautifuls, a pile of informed, intelligent reviews are only a google away and there is little I can add to them, other than to say how impressed I am with Hawksley Workman, and how excited I am that he is the producer of the upcoming Great Big Sea CD

That, and a few videos to add as well, fair-to-middling quality in a dark (too dark for photos) auditorium and shooting from row eight, but still...they do give a glimpse of what is so special and so exciting about Hawksley Workman's music and his performance.  And his potential as a producer, as well.

Jealous Of Your Cigarette (partial), Hawksley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St. John's, March 2008     (108 MB)

Addicted, Hawksley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St.John's. March 2008      (158 MB)

Striptease (partial), Hawskley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St. John's. March 2008      (150 MB)

When Mountains Were Seashore, Hawksley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St. John's, March 2008      (185 MB)   (off-mic, stage edge)

You & The Candles, Hawksley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St. John's, March 2008      (275 MB)

Safe & Sound, Hawksley Workman, Holy Heart Auditorium, St. John's, March 2008      (157 MB)

A few video-frame images, for those who can't download the big videos, showing the bemusing wonder of the intro tunes being played on the toy drums and piano (as well as with the antennaed headgear) and then giving a does-not-do-the-moment-justice glimpse of how wonderful the off-mic, stage-edge tunes were (do dowmload at least that one, if you can). As always, these are image frames and not anywhere near photo quality :

Those last few look pretty good in black and white too:

Keyboards/Drums: Mr. Lonely; Keyboards/Vocals par excellence: Ruth Cassie; Fiddle Afire: Jessie Zubot; Flute/Clarinet/Sax: David Christensen. Hawksley played most everything on stage, and he did it all so well.

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I've been meaning to put this article about Hawksley up here for quite some time.

A Busy Workman World

Between producing East Coast artists, writing for Cotillard, musician finds time to tour with own tunes

HAWKSLEY WORKMAN: Canadian smart pop purveyor, diehard romantic, international bon vivant and . . . honorary East Coaster?

The Ontario-based Workman hits Halifax's Rebecca Cohn Auditorium on Monday night, touring behind his latest CD, Between the Beautifuls, before heading on to St. John's. But for Workman it'€™s like a sort of homecoming for the engaging musician-producer, who spent most of last autumn in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia helming new recordings by folk-pop combo Great Big Sea and baroque-pop ensemble Hey Rosetta!

"I was in St. John'€™s for six weeks with Great Big Sea and then Halifax with Hey Rosetta! for two-and-a-half weeks," says Workman. "I don't know man, after working with those groups. . . . I'm telling ya, the East Coast has got something. It'€™s an energy and there'€™s an intrinsic kind of charisma about the region that is really charming.

"I was feeling really blessed to work out there, and Sonic Temple is a wonderful studio, and Darren (van Niekerk), the engineer, is a genius."

Great Big Sea has worked with producers ranging from Peter Prilesnik (Sarah Harmer's You Were Here) to Los Lobos saxman Steve Berlin, constantly tinkering in different ways with a sound that combines Newfoundland folk energy with brash melodic pop.

It seems Workman, whose own sound encompasses rock, pop and cabaret, would make for a good tinkerer.

"It was a really relaxed experience, and those guys wanted to try some new things; there was little to no reluctance to my kooky ideas. I'€™m really lucky to be part of some clever records over the past year," he says.

"Everybody's been saying I seem like an odd choice for Great Big Sea, but those fellows really wanted to take the bricks out of the house and put it back together again. They're very smart and very funny; I never felt so dumb and so not funny as I did during those six weeks that I was in Newfoundland."

Workman's efforts behind the board have also paid off for performers like Sarah Slean, Serena Ryder and double 2008 Juno Award-nominee Jeremy Fisher. Most recently he was in Los Angeles writing songs for best actress Oscar-winner Marion Cotillard, a friend from his days living in France at the start of the decade.

"She and I have known each other for a long time," he says. "She was in my No Reason to Cry Out Your Eyes video from Lover/Fighter, and we'd been wanting to work together on some music for a long time.

"She was in Los Angeles, and there's a project happening in France that we’re both a part of, so we recorded a couple of tunes and it was very exciting. It'€™s always nice to write something and hear somebody else sing it, and she couldn't be riding higher in her career right now. She was definitely my Oscar pick."

Despite all this hubbub, Workman still manages to find time for his own music, having recently returned from a successful tour of Australia. Released in January, Between the Beautifuls is an album perfect for spring, full of nature imagery on songs like Pomegranate Daffodil and All the Trees Are Hers and an infectious hopefulness. Recorded in his new home studio in Burks Falls, Ont., the disc came out of the kind of intense creative spurt that often leads to Workman making records faster than he can put them out.

"Things move awfully slowly in the record business, so it'€™s tricky to be prolific and know what to release," he says. "I made four records after Lover/Fighter; one was Treeful of Starling and another is Between the Beautifuls.

"But there's also a big rock record I made in Los Angeles that's currently sitting on the shelf called Los Manlicious, and another is a bit of a sprawling acid rock record. Oh, and there's also My Little Toothless Beauties which I made right after Lover/Fighter, but was soundly rejected by the powers that be.

"I guess I like to move quickly, and I like the idea that you could make something and have it out in the world that very same day. I guess that's where we're headed with technology, and the way and spirit in which I work may be more conducive to the future of making and distributing music."(scooke@herald.ca)

And this one as well:

Hawksley Workman's A Tough Gig

by Shannon Webb-Campbell

Beauty seems most attractive when it's unattainable. The unknowable and unachievable are always alluring.

Hawksley Workman has experienced his fair share of longing. After more than a decade in music, he still feels in between things, he says.

"The title [Between the Beautifuls] suggests I've realized I'm never going to be satisfied with anything," says Workman, calling from his home outside Huntsville, Ontario. "I'm never going to feel settled. I'm always going to be critical of myself and what I do. I'm always going to be thinking about the next thing as soon as I finish what I've been working on."

Workman released a small pressing of Before We Were Security Guards (1998), followed it by For Him and the Girls (1999) and then garnered critical support with the 2001 album (And last night we were) The Delicious Wolves. That same year, Almost A Full Moon and Puppy (A Boy's Truly Rough) bolstered his discography and grew anticipation for the next release.

In 2003, the artist took a tougher rock stance with Lover/Fighter. The record fell short of the industry's yardstick of commercial success and left Workman, he says, pondering his potential. The pensiveness resulted in a stripped-down, acoustic release in Treeful of Starling in 2006. Almost lullaby-like, this hopeful yet sober collection contrasts with the bold, boisterous performer who once seemed fuelled by alcohol and existentialism.

He questions vanity on "Prettier Face," interrogates religion on "What Would You Say To Me, Lord?" and romanticizes a tree farm ("All the Trees Are Hers").

With Between the Beautifuls, Workman moves further away from his past musical tumbles and carnival-esque moods. Produced by Andre Wahl, the 12-track album is slicker-sounding than previous outings, which may catch some listeners unawares. The overall sound could be the result of Workman producing other artists, including Tegan and Sara, Sarah Slean and Serena Ryder, and seeing first-hand what can be done.

The artist recently went all the way east to produce Newfoundland's Great Big Sea and rising pop-orchestral group---and Newfoundland natives---Hey Rosetta! Both bands had requested the rural-Ontarian's musical expertise for their forthcoming albums.

"Oh, Newfoundland is brilliant," Workman says. "I was so inspired by it, I mean, in my opinion, there are two truly great cultural forces in Canada. One is Quebec and the other is Newfoundland," he says. "The rest of English Canada is less defined. There is such a distinct voice that is Newfoundland and there is such a distinct voice that is Quebec and that distinction isn't as clear anywhere else."

The way music insinuates itself into life in St. John's caught his attention: "I feel that music is just a part of people's existence there. Like on a Tuesday night you can walk down Water Street and hear guys playing traditional music in pubs, not just one pub. Every pub. It's unbelievable."

Workman swore off liquor throughout his stay in St. John's. Working on someone else's art, he says, is something he approaches with great seriousness.

"You can fuck around with your own record and at the end of the day you only have to please yourself. But with somebody else's record you are being paid to do a job and it's very high pressure. It's a job where if something is going wrong, it's your fault. I learned a lot from Great Big Sea, I learned a lot from Hey Rosetta! They taught me a lot about spirit, a lot about intention---just all sorts of things about life, music, and about perspective."

Currently Workman is touring throughout Canada and Europe with Halifax musical arranger and member of Heavy Blinkers, David Christensen, violinist Jessie Zubot; and his long time collaborator, the mysterious Mr. Lonely.

"He and I don't go anywhere without each other, we're essentially married now, which is lovely. I am touring with a band, but not a conventional rock n' roll band. I'm touring with an unconventional...I'm not even sure what to call it yet. They are all living at my house right now. We're diligently rehearsing every day."

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"In the middle of it all...," the man for whom there's no looking back.

And another article I have been intending for quite some time to put up:

Premier congratulates Gordon Pinsent On Genie Award Win

Executive Council
Tourism, Culture and Recreation
March 4, 2008 

Newfoundland-born Gordon Pinsent has earned yet another prestigious acting honour, taking home a Genie Award as best actor for his performance in the critically-acclaimed Canadian film Away From Her.

The Genie Awards, Canada'€™s top awards for achievement in cinema and television, were handed out last night, Monday March 3, in Toronto. Away From Her was the big winner at the 28th annual event, taking home seven awards, including best picture.

The Honourable Danny Williams, Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador, said Mr. Pinsent is a credit to this province and to the country.

"I offer my sincere, heart-felt congratulations to Mr. Pinsent, a living legend who continues to embody the creative spirit well into his 70s," Premier Williams said. "He is an actor, author, playwright and director whose remarkably diverse career has spanned radio, stage and screen. His success - and the professionalism with which he conducts himself - has made us proud time and again.

"Mr. Pinsent is, without a doubt, an inspiration and role model for many within this province'€™s creative community," Premier Williams said. "This latest, national recognition is certainly well-deserved."

Newfoundland and Labrador's Alan Doyle was also nominated for a Genie in the category of best original song, for Young Triffie'€™s Been Made Away With, from the film of the same name.

The Honourable Clyde Jackman, Minister of Tourism, Culture and Recreation, said both artists have enjoyed creative success and have become true cultural ambassadors for Newfoundland and Labrador.

"Both Mr. Pinsent and Mr. Doyle are incredibly talented and we, as Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, continue to share in the celebration of their remarkable achievements," Minister Jackman said. "We expect the Provincial Government's continued investment in our cultural industries will see increasing national and international recognition for our professional artists in the future."

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If someone had told me the day would come when I'd be getting comments here from people concerned about Sean's revealing too much personal information about himself, I'd have checked the calendar to see if it might perhaps be April Fools' Day. Sean's new foray into The Land Of Twitter as Great Big Sean  (can't begin to count how many times that has come out onto the page as a typo, perhaps even a bit of a Freudian slip), seems to have perturbed a few, probably excited even more.

My thanks to several people for the heads-up about this. I followed the link and read Sean's "tweets" (could this terminology possibly be any more foolish?), then went on to read the purported "debate" about Great Big Twitterdom on the gbs.com home page, then went back to re-read a few comments on the subject people had posted here. On the one hand, I can see good reason for the concern, especially given how protective the men of GBS, and Sean most of all, have been of their private lives. But it could be argued that if this protection of privacy were to be taken too far, it could become somewhat self-defeating because of how it might increase the demand for such personal info due to limited supply.

Look at it this way: There are always going to be the kind of people who nose and poke and push until they get personal information about these men; the more closely guarded that information is, the greater its "value"- so the more intensely it is sought after. To be in possession of any kind of personal info about them, especially about Sean, since he has been the one who has most diligently guarded his private life from prying outsiders, has customarily been quite the coup...the person who acquires such info, no matter how unscrupulously they might have acted in getting their hands on it, has often gotten a lot of mileage out of using it to appear "inside" to all of the other outsiders, simply by virtue of appearing to be more in the know than someone else is.

So the hunt rages on. There have been literally hundreds of search-engine hits on this blog alone for something, anything, about "Sean McCann's wife," "Mrs. Alan Doyle," "does Bob Hallett have a child" and just about every other version of poking noses you can think of. It takes no effort at all to get most St. John's merchants to go on and on about all of the pesky GBS fans who ask them anything and everything about the band members' private lives (not much more than it takes to get them to blab that information if they think it will get you to purchase something from them). Enquiring minds definitely want to know, and up till now in Sean's case, enquiring minds have been mostly getting that info from - and feeling all envious of - the most obnoxiously relentless ones, who have gotten their facts, such as they are, from gossip and rumour and fools talking out of turn.

So now that personal info, some of it at least, is coming straight from Sean. And it's given out to everyone. Everybody can read it.  Nobody can use the info to try to make themselves look special or privlieged. No one is more inside than anyone else. Supply and demand: If you increase the supply, you decrease the demand; by doing this, there's a good chance that some of the perpetual nosiness into these men's personal lives will actually abate, at least among that large group of fans who are fundamentally decent and fundamentally sane.

Yes, there are the crazies who will be over the moon about getting personal information about Sean, about the rest of them too, and what they do get will only make them desire even more. But those are the same crazies who are going to be insatiably after getting any scrap of personal information any way they can, no matter what Sean or any of the rest of them do. Regardless of what anyone does or does not do, the crazies are going to be there, doing what they do best. At some point, you have to stop living your life based on how the crazies are going to act in response, because the alternative is that it's the crazies who are running your life for you. Perhaps I am not the only person who has recently decided against letting the bush flies prevent me from doing what I want to do in the place I intend to remain.

And that's what it really does come down to: Deciding for yourself what to do. I doubt much of anyone believes there's a power on earth that could force Sean McCann into revealing personal information about himself or his family against his will. It's probably likely that's he's been encouraged to find some form of fan-friendly-type of pseudo-intimate contact that's similar to what Alan and Bob do in their online journals because of the inarguable PR value of such methods, but still, no way is he ever going to be forced down that road.

I'm not at all surprised he'd be familiar with Twitter, less so that he found out about it from his brother; it's popular among DC-ites, especially since being used by Hillary and Obama. And, in some ways, it does seem suitable for Sean, more so than the more-conventional journal format used by both Alan and Bob, most of all in how "comments" are handled. With Twitter - which has also been called a form of "microblogging" - you never have to bother with seeing the comments of those you do not "follow," no matter how many of them might choose to "follow" you.  It's not unlike having a blog that is open to all who choose to read, but the only way readers can "comment" on your blog posts is to make those comments on their own blogs; you are then free to find and read them - or remain completely oblivious of them - as you choose. That's a very interesting feature of the format.

And come to think of it -  more importantly, come to think of Sean - the potential for the spreading of disinformation via tweet is frigging awesome.

So far, what I've read of his entries (still having trouble typing "tweet" with a straight face) sounds very sweet. (Sweet tweets - Jesus.) Actually, in these entries Sean sounds a lot like Glenn does when he talks, which I am finding very endearing. I've been blathering on for years now about how I wish more people would see these men as fellow human beings, and if this is one of the ways to get a few more people to do exactly that, then I'm all in favour of it. Come to think of it, after reading about colouring Thomas The Tank Engine with his little boy or getting computer help from his loving wife, perhaps some of the Seanivores will find it a just a bit more difficult to objectify him into their self-esteem-boosting acquisition target. Then again, perhaps not.

Talk about getting an immediate benefit from Sean's new communicativeness: When Christina called me from the airport to say her plane had gotten in a bit late, I told her that I already knew all about it...thanks to Sean. What a very odd way to find out. I didn't need a tweet from Sean to find out that it's raining in TO, though. One look out the hotel wndow is good enough for that. The weather might have disrupted their photo/video plans for the day - for the weekend, most likely, if they had anything out-of-doors planned that requires dry weather - but it's not impacting us too much since we're museum-bound as soon as I wrap this up. Then it's Eaton Centre and then after that off to the pub, I hope, to see the game. Indoors all the way, except for the coming and the going.  Let it rain...so long as the bright light shines on the Habs tonight.

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I love it on those rare occasions when I wind up unexpectedly rewarded for my shortcomings. I am not particularly well-organised, to put it mildly. I don't really lose things, but I am an expert at losing track of things, a trait which, on occasion, leads to those unexpected rewards.

I wanted to record NTV's most recent bit about Daffodil Place off the rebroadcast of the evening news the other night, since I knew Alan was in the piece; while setting up the VCR (still using yesterday's technology), I reached over and grabbed a random tape out of the "OK to record on" stack. While checking to see just what had previously been recorded on this as-ever-unlabelled tape (having learned the hard way to check first before recording over...I lost my original copy of the entire 2001 CBC Songwriters' Circle program that way while taping the final episode of Babylon 5), I noticed that 1) Someone had taped something from Canada AM and 2) Jeez, Seamus looked young. A bit more fast-forwarding brought up a date in October of 2002; I had no clue what was coming up. About a half hour in, there were Alan and Sean, 2002's Alan and Sean, just the two of them. I shifted from fast-forward to play and watched while the two of them sang and played a gorgeous Clearest Indication duet. It was specatcular, and I had never seen it before. David must have recorded it while I was travelling and then by the time I got home, we'd both forgotten all about it. That tape has been sitting there in that stack, untouched (well, dusted every now and again, at least) and unwatched for more than five years. Truly an unexpected reward.

It was so good, I'm thinking about finally learning how to get it, along with some of the rest of what's sitting there on videotape, converted to a digital format and put up here on the blog (any advice or suggestions about the best way to do this are always welcome). I've already been going back through all of my files on the laptop - uncharacteristic diligence caused mostly because this laptop is showing signs of suffering from a terminal disease and I want to get everything on it safely backed-up - and am finding it a bit daunting how much is here that I've yet to do anything with, a perennial problem of those who are easily distracted - I have trouble enough just going through it all and listing it without getting distracted by a sweet face that keeps showing up around every lovely curve.

Lovely curves and sweet faces make for an apt seque to my end of choice. The following are once again two versions of the same photo, taken at a moment of Alan's utter triumph at the ECMA Songwriters' Circle in Charlottetown in 2006; he had just performed Walk On The Moon for the first time since that rainy New Orleans night in autumn of 2003 - this time, dedicating his new song to Brad Gushue and his Olympic-gold-medal-winning curling team - and Alan's playing and singing of his beautiful song had been utterly perfect. The crowd, which had sat in rapt silence while Alan played this brand-new-to-them song, was now applauding and cheering and he was sitting there letting all of that praise and awe and approval  sweep up and wash right over him, with the look on his face I think I love the most of all.

Later that same evening, circumstances would conspire to create a scenario in which this same man with the impossible-not-to-love face would wind up behaving a bit like a horse's arse...but that is not what matters. At the end of the day, the memory of the cheering crowd is what lingers, and the sight of the victorious flash of a sweet smile is what endures.

"I'll Make It Worth Your While" Part Two - Getting Back To What Matters: Alan Doyle In Black And White (Journal Entry and Shamrockfest photos/video), Something About Sean & Who Owns The Band

Starting off again, after way too long of a pause, with what truly does matter to me.

Spring is in the air.  Somewhere.  - Alan Doyle, March 27 journal entry

The Sweetest Face of all.

Tonight, Alan Doyle/Great Big Sea, Shamrockfest, Wash. DC, March 2008      215 MB   (warning for those prone to motion sickness - I got kicked in the head right at the start and it takes a bit to recover and re-adjust the camera's aim)

Bohemian Rhapsody Singalong, Alan Doyle/Great Big Sea, Shamrockfest, Wash. DC, March 2008    50 MB

A few close views of the ever-fascinating man in the midst of what was a compelling (and unruly-crowd-captivating) performance at Shamrockfest.

I love Spring here. I went for a walk the other day on a Spring afternoon in Western Washington: When I walked out of my door, the sun was shining brightly, the breeze blowing gently; a bit more than a mile down the road, the looming clouds had busily begun to gather. It did not take long at all for a stiff wind to kick up, and soon after came the sudden burst of hail. I had taken shelter at a covered bus stop, watching and waiting for this storm to pass through. The rain swept in, huge splatting drops putting an exclamation mark at the end this episode. Then the same stiff wind that blew the brief but fierce tempest in blew it straight back out again, and in the space of perhaps 45 minutes, the sun was once again shining with a brilliance that refracted and prismed off the lingering raindrops still clinging to the flowers in full bloom, sparkling with a brilliance that dazzled my eyes. The soft breeze touched my cheek gently, and I continued along my path. It was a perfectly glorious Spring afternoon.

I see that same perfectly glorious Spring afternoon in Alan's face.

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More black-and-white views of Alan eventually, but first some lingering over Alan in his own black-and-white words.

I’ve managed to have a healthy apathy about the weather for most of my life.  With the exception of the occasions when GBS is slated to play outdoor concerts, I barely check the forecast.  Most days I could care less if it rains, shines or freezes.  I generally go about my day, indoors or out, regardless of the conditions. I’m convinced this Weather Zen is key to being a happy Newfoundlander, especially in the weeks that follow Paddy’s Day and lead to Summer. (Known most commonly as ‘Spring’, a season that skips the Rock annually)

Right now the sideways drifts of the third snowstorm in as many days are whipping up my street. Through the squalls, I cannot see my parked Grey Toyota Sienna, a rather large Mini Van, parked less than ten feet from my office as I type.  I can feel my Zen resolve slipping; I can sense my apathy breaking.  This winter is bringing me down a wee bit, I confess.

I must cast my gaze backward and forward on days and nights past and future as the present is cold and frozen.

Those who grow up in Southern California tend more toward the arrogance of a Weather anti-Zen; there, the weather is confidently expected to cooperate with the inhabitants' wills and whims ("I don't feel like mowing the lawn today...I'll do it tomorrow or the next day instead"). Winding up in a place where choosing not to mow the lawn on one particular non-rainy Saturday could mean the grass grows unchecked for the next sixstraight soggy weeks required quite the attitude adjustment when it comes to Alan's Weather Zen notion. Spending long stretches of time in Newfoundland during the Winter and non-Spring months (I have been saying that there is no Spring in Newfoundland since the very first non-Spring I spent there) has required further adjusting of, perhaps better to call it "banishing of," the last, lingering vestiges of that anti-Zen arrogance, My own weather apathy grows healthier each year.

Then again, I appear to have skipped out on some of the worst of it. Considering how persistently shitty the weather has been in St. John's since about an hour before I left, I've been wondering if perhaps I got out right before the onset of Fimbulwinter. And barely before the onset at that:  Not only did my still-shower-damp hair freeze almost solid in the short amount of time it took me to unload my bag from the car and scurry into the terminal, nearly swept off my feet by the howling wind and effectively blinded by the horizontal snow/ice fall, I then spent my time in the check-in line  listening apprehensively as subsequent flights for the day - including the one scheduled a mere 45 minutes after my own - were cancelled right and left.

But my plane had come in the night before and Air Canada was bound and determined to get that plane back to the Centre Of The Universe that morning. Lucky me. That has to be the first time I have ever had to time my step from the loading ramp onto the plane because of how much the plane was rocking in the wind; it felt like climbing aboard a storm-tossed boat about to tear loose from its mooring. That tossing became even more noticeable once in the seat; we were rocking and swaying noticeably while stll on the ground. This was going to be an interesting flight, if our two de-icings were going to be enough to get us off - and keep us off - the ground.

And so it was, interesting indeed.  I was told later we were the last flight to take off out of St. John's until that evening, and there would have been a very sensible argument that could have been made for our waiting too.  But we made it, even if a bit green around the gills for some, perhaps. My silly - but cheap - flight plan kept me travelling all day, from St. John's to Ottawa, then from Ottawa to Toronto, and from Toronto to Philadelphia, where I waited some four hours for my friend to pick me up for the drive to Atlantic City.  After that initial wild ride out of St. John's, all of the rest was comparative smooth sailing, to be sure. By the time we got out of the Philly airport and on the road to AC, Winter, even Incipient-Fimbulwinter, had turned to Spring.

And since it is indeed Spring instead of non-Spring, it is raining here tonight. At least for the next ten minutes it is.

Grand Paddy’s weekend a little while ago.  Great fun to have Russell join us in DC for a song or two.  Hard to beat his performances.  I’ve learned a lot from his presence on stage and his conviction to the moment.  I can think of few so eager to give themselves so completely to a performance when the curtain rises, the lights go down, or someone yells, “Action”. 

Like many in the GBS camp, he also prides himself on hosting the best parties.  The after show sing-along at the Hotel was one for the ages, with The Shantyman shining at his best, and Rachel M leading a lovely version of “Time After Time”.    Grand, Grand Night.

What Alan says here about Russell Crowe - how he is one of few so eager to give himself so completely to a performance  - is as apt and as truthful a description of Alan himself as it is of Russell. The two of them together, each filled with conviction and each giving himself completely to the performance, were nothing short of awesome each and every time they took the stage during The Ordinary Fear Of God 2005/06 Australian tour.  Impassioned, intense, vulnerable, and most of all, possessing the courage to take themselves and what they had created seriously:  As wonderful as it was to discover Russell's prodigious musical performance abilities while seeing him for the first time on stage, how much more wonderful it was to see Alan - the man whose performances had awed and moved me so many times before - in a  completely different light...a stronger, clearer, brighter light that revealed previously unknown depths and talents and capabilities.

As good as Alan has always looked to me, as well as he has always done in my eyes, he looked even better and achieved even more in the clarity of that light. Those shows permanently shaped the way I see Russell Crowe, and they forever changed the way I see Alan Doyle.  It was so good, such a rekindler of precious memories and stubborn hopes, to see the two of them together again at Shamrockfest. I hope it happens again soon. 

There's just no downside at all to Alan's getting this kind of Grand, Grand Night. He spends time and sings songs with a friend he doesn't get to see very often, and if there is one host who can be trusted to make sure that every partygoer present truly is an invited (and wanted) guest, that host is Russell Crowe. One of those times when it really is all good.

 

 

The visit to Atlantic City proved to me that places can’t be as bad as people say.  I thought the boardwalk was cool.  I enjoyed the kooky old games areas.  Reminded me of Tom Hanks and “BIG”, one of my favourite films.

Our NYC taxi went past FAO Schwartz on the way to our hotel this past January, and when I saw the store sign, my first thought was of Tom Hanks and Robert Loggia dancing the notes to Heart And Soul on the giant keyboard in Big. I think of that scene every time I see an FAO Schwartz sign. That this sweet film about a boy who longs to become a man and a man who yearns to return to his boyhood would be one of Alan's favourites is no surprise whatsoever. It fits, perfectly, like one more puzzle piece sliding quietly and satisfyingly into place, making the larger picture a bit more clear.  Puzzle pieces and bread-crumb trails, knowledge of the heart and discovery of the soul.

We had fun on the AC boardwalk too, cataloguing as many of the Monopoly streets as we could find. I wish the amusement park had been open; we missed it by a day, I think.  A strange place, Atlantic City, maybe just a bit too haunted by the conflicting ghosts of gaudy tourists, desperate gamblers, petty thugs, and cocky wiseguys. Too many stories to sort out one from the other. We did manage to find a decent pub, though. I'm betting we did much better with our pints of Guinness there than what was being offered up in the HOB FR.

And the Under The Boardwalk singalong during the show was priceless.

A long flight from DC to Edmonton (for a fun gig) and back to Toronto overnight, followed by a snow delay, another snow delay, a detour to Montreal for three hours and a near crash landing 24 hours later in a windy St. John’s was not a fun way to end a fun weekend.

But things are looking up.  Way up.  Labels, management, and band are gearing up for the launch of the new CD.  “Fortunes Favour” will be out on Tuesday June 24th in Canada and the US.  Much work going on behind the scenes for touring throughout the Summer and Fall.

Given the chaos of the Edmonton airport the morning after St. Pat's Day - chaos for all those attempting to fly east that is, we westward-bounders had no troubles once we got past the two-hour check-in line - I was sure enough that it was a rough road home for GBS cast and crew.  Alan's description of his St. John's landing sounds queasily similar to my St. John's takeoff at the start of that weekend.  Why am I absolutely convinced that next winter will find them touring the frigid expanse of Canada, with myself cautiously ice-walking along after them?  

The excitement of a brand new CD has to be a thrill for all of them, no matter that they've been around this dance floor a few times already. And this CD is, by several accounts, truly something different from Great Big Sea, words that have sure got me excited. I love what they have done so far, and I love even more the promise of their reaching out and realising yet more of their own potential. Growth and change are necessary parts of life, and there is still so much they are capable of accomplishing. I like it best of all when Alan is looking up, way up.

It will be an impatient wait until June 24th. I'm going to try my best to keep an open mind about that Fortune's Favour title until then, since Sean did say the title would "make sense" once the CD was out.  But the writer in me is going to have to point out that the best titles make sense from the first moment you hear them. Then again, Something Beautiful as a CD title would have had much less meaning if title had been heard before song, though the titles Sea Of No Cares and Turn and even The Hard And The Easy would have impressed on their own merits.  Hard to tell. 

All I know at the moment is that the expression "fortune's favour" has a "looking back to the past" connotation to it, perhaps because it was used fairly often in Victorian writing, for that matter in Elizabethan writing as well. A quick Google of the expression turned up a Burns' poem I long ago consigned to memory's recycle bin. It's hard not to wonder how such a title fits in with a CD that contains the likes of which has not been heard before from GBS...but an open mind it is going to remain. Times like these, it is good to remember all the past good cause for trust in such matters. Sometimes, it is quite nice to be pleasantly surprised by hope beyond expectation.   

 

 

We are scheduled have photos taken and do a video for the first single, yet to be determined, in Toronto between April 12th and 15th.  And by a wonderful coincidence, that puts us in town for the Oysterband Show on the 13th at Hugh’s Room.

For those of you who don’t know, the Oysterband have been heroes to GBS long before me, Sean and Bob ever got together.  They are the quintessential British Folk Rock group that ran down the same corridors as the Pogues and Billy Bragg in England and Europe.  They still have a huge following in Britain, Germany and Scandinavia, as their concerts are legendary and their songs are even better.

Ever heard of a song called “When I’m Up I Can’t Get Down”?  GBS did pretty well with that track, thanks to the Oyster Gents who wrote and recorded many years before us.  When we were compiling material for the ‘Play’ CD, we considered a couple of dozen Oysterband tunes to cover.  We picked a good one, but there are literally several albums worth of songs as good or better in the Oyster catalogue.

We are not the only Canadian folkies to love their songwriting.  John and Geoffrey from SOTW count the Oysters as early influences.  Check out the Bara McNeils cover of “Northern Lights”, or Shanneygannock’s “This Town”.

Their song catalogue is Blue Rodeo Deep. Trust me.  Check them out at Oysterband.co.uk  

Check out the tour dates and see if there’s a date near you.  Like I said, they play Hugh’s Room in Toronto on the 13th, and unless wild horses drag us away, so will the whole GBS Cast.

As much as I love Oysterband, and even though Christina and I have had tickets for the Hugh's Room show for a month now and David and I have had tickets for the Oysters' Vancouver show since the day that show went on sale, still, first things first here: The first single/video from the new CD. 

The take-no-prisoners marketing guerilla in me still wishes that the first single from Fortune's Favour could be Oh Yeah, accompanied by a video of Air-Force-recruitment-style footage of fighter pilots commanding sleek, soaring, suggestively-shaped, love-bomb-dropping jets mixed together with edgy footage of screaming lead-guitar solos played by Alan Doyle The Rock Star Guitar God. If nothing else,  such an approach by GBS would never be forgotten. Or forgiven, mostl likely.

Therefore I will keep a hope-fire burning for a truly incendiary Straight To Hell single release and video (How about performing on some iconic TO stage while 'The Big Smoke' burns to the ground around them?...probably not a big enough budget for such pyrotechnics, but wouldn't it be fun for a pack of Newfoundlanders to burn the Centre Of The Universe to the ground?).  How about Walk On The Moon with space-shuttle/astronaut footage? I love Walk On The Moon with an abiding passion, but I don't know if the label would allow a ballad, even this beautiful of a balland, to be the first single release.

Actually, my best guess is that the first single from Fortune's Favour will be Tonight, and a very good call that would be. Tonight made for an excellent opener at their Atlantic City show, it's a mid-tempo tune with a persuasive drum part, a singalong bridge, an unforgettable melody line, and best of all, it plays with sincerity and honesty. Tonight comes across as genuine and true, and that gives the song a sense of power and purpose.  In clumsy hands  (and, to be  honest, some of GBS's videos have been the product of just such hands) a Tonight video could wind up unfortunately insincere in the kind of way that steals power and purpose back away from the song.

If some perky little missus winds up dancing around in her skimpy PJs in the video or if the camera winds up lingering on an inexpertly inserted shot of a clearly fake audience member, that is going to do a serious disservice to what this song deserves. The song is genuine, so too should the video at least aspire to be.  Maybe something as simple as pre-show routines, ruts, and anxieties, intermixed with the repetition of stage entrances, the lights going up and trickling down, the crowd roaring, again and again.  Or anything else that rings equally as true as does the song. I still think their Clearest Indication video is the most genuine and real video they've come up with so far, one of their best as well.

And now, Oysterband. 

When I first stumbled across Alan's Songwriters' Circle performance in 2001 and then went on to find out about Great Big Sea, I had all of these high hopes that I had come across an entire previously-unknown-to-me genre of music.  I had scant interest in the Irish/Celtic music I'd heard, but GBS didn't sound at all Irish/Celtic to me anyway, not then any more than they sound that way to me now. They sounded completely unlike anything I had ever heard before, and I was eager to find all of the other bands who would also sound this new and fresh and wonderful.

I started following all of those "If you like this band, you will be sure to like _____" recommendations from GBS fans and critics.  I followed and followed and followed, hunted and searched high and low, but wound up finding precious little that appealed to me, and most of what I finally did find that I liked actually sounded very little like GBS, at least on the surface. Ron Hynes, Carbon Leaf, Duane Andrews, Bruce Guthro, Art Stoyles, Joel Plaskett (non-Emergency), Lennie Gallant, Gearbox, Timber, Crush, the Young Dubs - newly discovered treasures all...but about the closest to GBS was my fondness for the sweetly poignant timbre of Con O'Brien's voice; I wished I could hear Alan's and Con's voices together long before I had any clue at all just where either Petty Harbour or Bay Bulls were situated on the face of this planet.

As more and more of the "If you likes" led to frustrating dead ends of musical non-appreciation, my brilliant husband noticed in the liner notes (which I almost never read) that When I'm Up was written by someone other than GBS. We'd both been intrigued by that song's lyrics from the start - puzzled by how those lyrics did or did not mesh with the manner in which GBS performed the song live, as well as how the GBS crowds we had seen responded to the song - and when we saw those completely unfamiliar names (Telfer/Prosser/Jones) it was Google Time.

That Googling led to some (ahem) unpaid-for downloading, which led to a trip to the local "good" music store where they would order anything you wanted.  After a wait of some weeks, we had Granite Years, Volume 1.  It still didn't sound much like GBS, but it sure sounded good. I was most impressed by the connections with the likes of Billy Bragg (discreetly letting the Pogues matter quietly slip off the edge of the table); I'm not sure why it is I had never so much as heard of Oysterband, but I've admired and respected Billy Bragg for years. Discovering yet another group of artists with the same integrity of both professional and personal lives, the same courage of convictions, was a delight.

I wonder sometimes about the friendship/admiration that the men of GBS have for these politically aware, fiercely intelligent, ethically uncompromsing fellow artists, wonder what might happen should these men begin to express more of their own awareness, intelligence, and ethics in their own artistic arena. What would happen if they chose to write more songs after the fashion of Demasduit's Dream or Feel It Turn or Young Triffie, or even to speak more in the voice of Alan's journal lambasting of the anti-sealing movement and his lament over the Virginia Tech shootings, or Sean's poem in the Independent, or even Bob's snarkily shrewd back-and-forths with the local arts board in regard to the allocation of government funding?  How much of worth and value could be heard from them, and how satisfying and fulfilling might it be for them to be able to write and perform some of the same types of songs written and performed by these fellow artists whom they so admire and respect?   

Then I remember that I won't even let David wear one of his favourite Oysterband merch t-shirts around a GBS-fan crowd because I do not want to deal with the shit that would likely come from it, even though I agree with the sentiment expressed on that shirt (GOD PROTECT US /From Your Followers on the front and More Truth Is What I Need on the back) as much as he does. But I know how relentlessly negative the reaction to something as simple as that t-shirt would likely be among many GBS fans; the mere thought of GBS trying to sell anything at all controversial or provocative in any way to their own fan-customer base elicits an immediate snort of derision.

And that derisive thought leads inexorably to the question of whether any Newfoundland band that struck an openly political (or even a particularly intellectual) stance would have gotten the initial Lower Deck gig that opened the door to so many other gigs for them back in the early '90s. I wonder just how many gigs of what kind a politically aware, intellectually challenging, ethically uncompromising Newfoundland band might or might not get today. What might much of Mainland Canada make of their very own favourite Newfie Party Band should those aware, intelligent, creative men begin to act as if they expected to be taken as seriously as they deserve to be taken? More important, what kind of wonderful music might be the result of such an insistence?

Then once again, that trend of thought leads me straight back to a very familiar place: Whatever music they do or do not want to do, whatever people they do or do not want to be...I hope they find a way to do and to be all that they want, at the very least to do and be as much as they need to make them feel happy and creatively satisfied, within GBS or without GBS.

The next thought that follows hard on the heels of that one is how promising a collaborative songwriting effort between a member or members of GBS and the Oysterband fellows could very well be.

But while I tend to focus on the affections and issues and the politics and the meaning of the songs and the creative satisfaction of the artists, for David it has been from the start first and foremost a pure and simple joy in Oysterband's music. A lifelong music-lover whose wide-ranging tastes go all the way back to dinosaur prog-rock, his second-favourite band these days is Oysterband; I think at last count, GBS perhaps came in somewhere around fifth.

Alright, this is as good a place as any for his Oysterband/GBS story. After a few years of devoted Oysterband fandom-from-afar, the fellow who most prefers his music live began to get frustrated by reading about Oysterband shows on the other side of the Pond; he wanted to see the band live too. By now he knew that the Oysters simply did not tour the States at all, and that it had been nearly a decade since they'd even toured Canada. So he decided to go across the Pond to see a band whose music he'd come to love.  Since I'm always in favour of shameless promotion of the band whose music I love best, I encouraged him to pack an extensive selection of GBS tour-merch shirts, the "walking billboard" approach to tourist travel, and off he went to see Oysterband.

Early in the evening of the first of four Oysterband shows he was going to be seeing, he went into a Chinese restaurant next to the venue to get some supper; he was wearing one of his GBS shirts, at least partly because he did not have very many alternative choices in his suitcase. While he was eating, two fellows walked into the restaurant, and when one of them glanced over at him, the fellow said, "Hey, Great Big Sea! Those guys are really good!" David is a sociable fellow; it took no time at all for the three of them to be chatting away about just how great GBS's music really is. And he is also a proselytising fellow; when he believes in a band, the whole world is going to hear about that band. He figured these fellows already like GBS, so maybe they would like Oysterband too. Probably a good time to note that, in fairly typical male fashion, David had never bothered to pay much attention to band photos or personal info; his interest was always the music.

So he launches into a PR spiel for this other great band, a great band who will be playing a show right next door to this restaurant on that very night. On and on he goes, lauding and praising and persuading, apparently oblivious to any signs of amusement across the table from him. Either that, or there are two fellows who could be deadly poker players. Eventually, they can't take it anymore. They burst out laughing, slap him on the back, and tell him he has been persuading the Oysterband drummer and equipment tech about how grand a band the Oysters are. That night was the beginning of a very good time for him at those four Oysterband shows. He hasn't seen them since then, and he can't wait for Vancouver. He is trying very hard not to envy me for Toronto.

I can't wait for both TO and Vancouver. I've never seen Oysterband live, although I did see John Jones on stage with GBS for When I'm Up in Tonder (the video of that can be found in the righthand column here, in the GBS in Europe section). I really hope Alan accomplishes what he clearly wanted to achieve by putting the Oysterband information up in his journal; I hope he helps sell tickets and fill seats for a band that deserves to be playing to sold-out-to-the-doors houses all across the continent.

In an ideal world, each and every one of those houses would be filled with people who had come solely for the purpose of seeing and hearing and delighting in Oysterband, and for the umpteenth time I will futilely wish this were indeed that ideal world. I know Alan has to be aware of the inevitable result of announcing the presence of GBS in the close confines of Hugh's Room, and if he chose to go ahead and make that announcement anyway, then I hope everything that could possibly make doing this worth it to him will work out the way he wants it to. I hope the Oysters wind up with the attentive, appreciative crowd they deserve at Hugh's. I hope Alan gets to spend another one of those Grand, Grand Nights with his friends, though I will be honest and also admit that I hope a minute or two can be spared from that Grand, Grand Night in the answering of a somewhat simple question.

 

 

Spring is in the air.  Somewhere.

Look in the mirror, dear. You will be sure to find Spring fretting/scowling/puzzling/pondering/smiling/laughing/fretting/scowling... right back at you.

************************************************************************************************************************

Some full-size views of that same compelling performance, that same ever-fascinating man.  I've got more of the rest of the show, some of all of the bands that played that stage at Shamrockfest, both colour and black-and-white, although, intriguingly enough, the ones of Alan are their most  powerful in black and white, while most of the rest of the photos come across better in colour (due in part to Sean's wearing that vibrant Rabbitohs shirt, I think).

It was a very dark show - GBS's post-sunset part of it, that is - not only dark up on stage but also extremely dark out in the crowd...we were out on huge stadium parking lot after all, with not much for "venue lighting" to make things a bit brighter. I suppose we were far enough away from the stage edge to make using flash only moderately rude, rather than totally assholish, but I still chose against that option. In addition to not wanting to do "rude" to the band, there was the matter of the poor security guards standing right in front of us, the same security guards who had been working their arses off most of that long day hauling flailing moron crowd-surfers over the barrier (and over our heads); I had no heart at all to begin blinding these weary fellows with my own flash, and enlightened self-interest also reminded me that the chances of my own head not getting kicked over and over, again and again, by flailing moron feet would be distinctly increased if the security fellow directly in front of me were permitted to keep his eyesight intact.

Because it was so dark, the quality of the pictures varies. A few had to be edited fairly extensively so that their content would show, which makes for a great deal of "noise" in the photo, but sometimes noise is so worth it, as is the case with the second photo here, which shows Alan fully aloft during Captain Kidd. Alan looks almost as right with both feet off the ground as he does with both fists pumped high in the air; each is a position that eminently suits him.

I'll put up all of the colour versions, along with the rest of the Shamrockfest photos, when I finally get around to actually writing about that show. For now, this is my strongest and most enduring memory of that show, as well as of that whole weekend of shows, Atlantic City and Edmonton included:  Light and shadow, constancy and changeability, power and longing. And a beauty that endures.

Donkey Riding.

Captain Kidd.

Jack Hinks.

When I'm Up.

An absolutely unforgettable Lukey face.

A Walk On The Moon that inspires and haunts, in equal measures.

Paddy Murphy.