ETA again: All comments I still have that were for public posting are up now. Really sincere apologies for what was a longer delay than I realised - I didn't know the unposted comments went back eight entries. All the entries that have new comments added are here on the main page, and I'll have them responded to before the end of tomorrow (yes, I edited the change in - I am forever a procrastinator). Even-more-sincere apologies to any whose comments might have been lost with the passage of so much time; I know there were a few of those that did get read but were then eaten by the Blogmonster before being posted. Thanks to all who took the time to make comments.
ETA: Adding a link to a clip from CTV of the Juno Show broadcast of the Great Big Sea/Hawksley Workman/Eccodek performance of Gallows Pole (with many thanks to those who sent me the link):
Though the song (and the artistic purpose of the collaboration) never got the intro it needed to establish the proper context, how utterly cool to see a centuries-old Childe Cycle Ballad that had been brought to a new audience by early blues great Leadbelly in the 1930s, then recreated by seminal folkie Bob Dylan in the '60s, and transformed yet again by British rockers Led Zeppelin in the '70s take on a new shape in the twenty-first century, now in the hands of a combination of Newfoundland trad/original folk-rockers, an indie chameleon, and a group of techno-wizards. That is clear and incontrovertible evidence of a living folk tradition, which was the real point of - and the real genius of - the collaborative endeavour, and though the Junos might (sadly) be a difficult place to bring off such a sophisticated artistic point about music, it is still an attempt worthy of praise and applause.
This weekend in Vancouver didn't go at all as planned. Though the companionship was indeed excellent - the first time three like-minded gals have been together since the Grey Cup in November of 2007 made for grand times among good friends - the scheduled events persistently refused to follow my wishful-thinking plotline. There was no Gorgeous Goalie in the Juno Cup, no sudden need for a last-minute inclusion of the Superb Songsmith in the Songwriters' Circle, the Juno Red Carpet was a chaotic mess (partly because of the foolishness of letting all the Juno sponsors and their companions march down and create a massive bottleneck of a crowd on the carpet and partly because, frankly, fans who are at that fever pitch are frigging insane), and, most of all, Great Big Sea did not win in their nominated category, Group Of The Year - make it even worse with their not even losing to an artistically credible band.
My intention, my hope, going into this weekend was to see these events obediently follow that plotline - to offer up all the support I possess in the cause of the Most Deserving Band finally getting the Juno recognition they have earned, and to take my own full pleasure in seeing the Man Of Many Talents shine brightly in the spotlight once more before deeply missing him when he heads off across the Pond to do even more of all that he does so well.
Not much happened as planned, which is not to say nothing happened as hoped. There was that sweet victory (and the sweetest-of-all smiles) of the Juno Cup. And even if I did not get a video of GBS walking down the Red Carpet (to go with the one I did not get of them walking up to the podium to accept the Juno Award that should have been theirs), there was this dear face in the Red Carpet crowd, a fleetingly precious moment that is going to keep a sweet smile on my own face for the long months to come.
Alan Doyle, Juno Awards 2009 Red Carpet, with gorgeous beard
And there was also this powerful (and, hopefully, stereotype-shattering) Juno Awards Show-closing performance by the Most Deserving Band, along with the inimitable Hawksley Workman and the talented fellows from Eccodek, saving the best and the brightest for last...as per usual with the Junos.
Reality always outplots me.
I have my usual lots-more-stuff that there's no time to put up right now; I'm off to breakfast with one of those like-minded gals I won't be seeing till I go back to St. John's in May. But as of tonight I'll be back home with plenty of time on my hands, and it's very likely an abundance of pictures and words (and comments, I promise) will not-so-promptly follow thereafter. An abundance of the Man Of Many Talents in particular.
I am totally in favour of anything and everything that puts such a sweet smile on this dear face.
As much as I would have loved to see Alan play in goal at last night's Juno Cup (and to see Sean out on the ice too), I can understand why it didn't happen. And given the results of Alan's rookie attempt at coaching the Rockers Squad - their very first victory over the NHL Greats Squad in six Juno Cup games - it's hard to argue with the assignment. He is a man of many talents.
Including the singing of the national anthem, with support from the Gladstone Secondary School Senior Band (with thanks to Lisa for the video).
Not much time right now for words or more photos because I am taking up limited touristing time of others, so I'll just put up two more videos, these from the Victoria show, that show that same Man of Many Talents doing it all so well.
I'm still feeling really nervous and fretful about the whole Juno thing. I want so badly for them to win what they so thoroughly deserve to win, but past experience says hope is likely going to turn to disappointment. But if so, I am going to go back to the photo of that beaming smile at the beginning of this entry for comfort and for an equally beaming smile in return. As long as Alan is smiling that smile, it's all good to me.
I take a lot of pictures. Anybody who knows me, knows that. There are others who do the same thing, though I don't know for sure if for the same reasons. All I know is my own reason: Bread crumbs along the patient trail, the diamond-dazzle moment of sudden discovery. Many pictures are good - even more are not - but every now and then, a few of them are True.
Alan Doyle, Ottawa, March 21, 2009
This is a true picture. I know that face. It is the face of a man who will achieve his heart's desire, partly because of the depth of his determination, the breadth of his talent, and the height of his passion...and partly because he has the courage to accept and to pay the attendant costs in the course of that achievement, the willingness to acknowledge and to embrace both the kisses and the bruises. It is the face of a man for whom/to whom the only acceptable answer, the only possible answer, the only true answer, is "Yes".
That was in Ottawa, the largest and probably the most impassioned crowd of the Fortune's Favour Tour. I love Ottawa GBS crowds, have loved them from my first show there - my theory about why Ottawa has supported Great Big Sea so much from the start centres around how many people are away from and longing for Home (from all over, not only Newfoundlanders) while living in Ottawa and who are thus irresistibly drawn to men and music so deeply rooted in their own Home - and I have a lot more videos, pictures, and words about that huge official-tour-ending Civic Centre show. But first a bit more from Montreal's Metropolis show before I start to scurry about and get packed up again for Victoria and the Juno Weekend in Vancouver.
I love Montreal, I love Montreal, I love Montreal...the words are Alan's, the sentiments are shared. A beautiful city, a wonderful show at the Metropolis, a sweetly memorable time afterwards at Hurley's Pub. I'll begin there, with thanks to Jennifer for the videos (I was useless on that front, being in the midst of the crowd in a thoroughly bedazzled condition), because right now I am thinking that the title of one of the songs Alan performed at the pub (along with the pub's regular players, whose names are apparently Jonathan and Dave) is particularly pertinent:
A Man You Don't Meet Every Day
(And, yes, this did bring back wonderful memories of all those shows with Russell Crowe's band The Ordinary Fear Of God when Alan and Russell closed with this song. It also brought back priceless memories of the Uprooted show-closers with the Young Dubs and Seven Nations. But most of all, what it made me think standing there in the crowd at Hurley's was that this song describes Alan so perfectly.
And Alan also led the crowd and other players (listen for some great fiddle-playing) in a version of "the best pub song ever," appropriate enough in one of the best pubs ever:
This song was too dark to see as video, so here's an audio file for download only. It's not big (about 2 MB) but you do need Quicktime to play it.
As great as the Metropolis show had been, the time at Hurley's was even more special. As was the man you don't meet every day.
But even with as wonderful as Hurley's was (talk about the diamond-dazzle moment of discovery), Montreal was indeed a great show. I've got some more videos from that great show, and I think this finishes out the Montreal videos. Ottawa, as grand a show as it too was, is going to have to wait till some time after Juno Weekend.
This from Spirit Of The West's opening set, their brand new tune.
Alan is definitely King of La Belle Province.
This fierce version of Gallows Pole shows them ready to be spectacular on the Juno stage:
"A real Rock & Roll story" about a tour bus visit from Myles Goodwin of April Wine, followed by a snippet of Just Between You & Me.
This show ended with one of the best set of encores ever. First up, the perfect "Here's to 16 more years" song.
Followed by one of the best, sexiest, most endearing, and most honest GBS songs ever.
A brief pause, then time for another joint GBS-SoTW encore moment, complete with costumes (look for Murray in a cape).
And this has to be my all-time favourite randomly selected video thumbnail photo.
I love Montreal...I love Montreal...I love Montreal. And from now on, I think I'm going to love Hurley's even more.
Chances are, this is it from me until sometime after the Victoria and the Junos. I might not take any photos/videos in Victoria; since it's the last show for quite some time, I might choose instead to simply take all possible pleasure in the adrenaline that will be firing hard and high before I spend the next months missing it. A whole other matter when it comes to the Juno Cup - that is one gorgeous goalie my camera can never resist.
As for the Awards show, I'll go in with my fingers crossed and my hopes foolishly high because I can't seem to stop them from climbing up to the place where it's going to hurt to fall down from. I know who deserves what; I also know deserving hasn't got very much to do with anything far too often. But there is always hope. Though lately I have been telling myself that an Academy Award for Best Song or Soundtrack would go a hell of a long way toward distracting Alan from any lack of a Juno, though so much better to hope he gets it all, that he gets everything he deserves and desires.
And speaking of the man you don't meet every day...
I do like that face; I am going to miss it very much over the next few months. It is a very dear face. There are times when Keats' words say it better than anyone else's: Beauty is truth, truth beauty.
Time to get back to packing while being yowled at by a pissed-off cat. I'll try to get comments up and answered before I leave in the morning.
I wound up having a bit of free time on my hands today, which led to a few more videos being uploaded. More from the Dazzle that was the Montreal Metropolis GBS show and the Delight that was Alan Doyle.
When I said last time that I'd be spending the day with Air Canada, I didn't realise we'd wind up spending the night together too. Here I sit in my Air-Canada-comped hotel room at the Calgary Delta, nibbling on cheesecake and strawberries and whipped cream (also AC-paid-for), wearing my soon-to-be-shucked Delta bathrobe for pre-slumber loungewear. It's not so bad. It could certainly be worse. I could still be confined in the airport security holding area, surrounded by police officers and being given the olfactory once-over by the bomb-sniffing pup.
I could be back on the plane in that moment of utter panic when the seatbelt light went off as we came to the gate and then the flight attendants suddenly shouted out "Get off the plane now! Take nothing with you! Your life matters more than your bags!" And then when we ran off the plane and up the bridge, we hit the locked doors; the security officer on the other side shook his head no as we tried to get him to unlock the doors in front of us while the flight crew kept shouting at us to clear the bridge behind us.
All of this after a 2.5 hour equipment delay in Ottawa (they had to fly a frigging pilot's headrest in from Toronto). And after spending 40 minutes on the ground in Calgary out at the end of the runway because of "an issue with the gate" - as best as anyone ever explained that, they were working to get us to a "secure" gate, or maybe they were just keeping us at a safe distance while waiting to see if we really were going to blow up. This is how AC responds to a bomb threat against a specific plane. Don't know how others might have felt about it, only that I found it all less than reassuring.
My checked bag (the one with all of my clothes in it, hence the Delta bathrobe) remains on the plane, which is still under lockdown and doggie search. But I am better off than most my fellow passengers, the unjust rewards of outright disobedience...properly motivated, I can move faster with my (rather bulky) laptop bag than most can move with no luggage at all; there was a good ten-foot gap between me and the next person behind me getting off the plane, and I was seriously climbing up the arses of the fellows in front of me going up the bridge. Which is why I have my laptop and bag (and my coat too, for some silly reason I can't explain other than that my Habs toque is in the pocket, perhaps) while some poor folks are still without such basic items as passports and purses and necessary meds, all still on the plane, all still in police custody. Some races are not won by slow and steady. I have to confess I surprised myself a bit moving so fast, and this with a rather badly damaged right arm that's been bothering me for more than a week now. Desire is quite the motive force.
As of here and now, I'm booked on a morning flight to Seattle; supposedly my bag will be travelling with me. We'll see if any or all of that actually happens. But no real complaints from me tonight. Considering the possible alternatives, all I can say at the end of this day is that it's alright...it's alright...it's alright.
The cheescake and whipped cream and strawberries are all gone now; time to shuck the bathrobe, climb into bed, and hope AC still loves me in the morning.
By tonight, I'll be back home for the first time in a long time. Most of the GBS cast and crew will be in their own homes by then too. Alan will be otherwhere, heading straight to his newest adventure, straight to the role he was talented enough to win and brave enough to accept. "Proud" doesn't begin to suffice as a description of what I think about that talent and, most of all, about that courage, but it will have to do for now. There's the bag that needs to be packed one more time (well, for a few days, at least - until Victoria and the Junos....after that, the bag stays unpacked until May) and as ever, time is running short. So it is "proud" for now and I'll work on finding a way to say it better for later.
Montreal and Ottawa were both vwery good shows, and with two of the best crowds - each in its own way - on the whole Fortune's Favour tour. What an amazing and a perfect way to end a tour that has lasted through nearly a year and 100+ shows all across the continent. There's still the Victoria show, and the Junos appearance (and the hockey game, very much anticipating that), but Victoria is best seen as a bit of an epilogue, I think, albeit a deeply appreciated epilogue. I know I will not be alone in missing the music and the shows, and there is one sweet face, currently a quite delightfully furry face, that I am going to be badly missing come the end of this month. But I know he will be spectacular in his new adventure; Alan does "spectacular" so well - he does it like it is what he was born to be.
I've only had time to upload two videos, both from the Montreal show at the Metropolis. The first is of a song I have been waiting and waiting and waiting to hear again, a song about a man who drives a hard bargain to win his heart's desire, a man who is always willing to pay whatever the price of that desire might be and who then takes full pleasure and delight in that which cost him so dearly to obtain. A man who deserves his full measure of Heaven on Earth; a man you don't meet every day.
And this an achingly sweet let's-celebrate-St.-Patrick's-Day-one-more-time Sean McCann tradition:
Lots and lots more from the Ottawa and Montreal shows, preceding shows too, both GBS and Spirit of the West stuff. Probably more than a few words too. Pretty soon I'll have plenty of time to think about it all and go through it all. For now, I'm kind of enjoying the semi-inarticulacy that goes along with being a state of wonder. That, and feeling proud. I'm enjoying that even feeling even more.
Next to no time at all because of a godawful early bus I have to catch, so for sure this is Part One with the next entry to come sometime after the Montreal show, maybe even after Ottawa. Tight schedules the next couple of days. But there's something very special in this first video, a precious bit of context in Alan's intro, as well as in the performance that follows that into. I wish I had more time to go on about why it is so special, but for now, all I'm going to say is that this is as Real as it gets. As Here and Now as it gets too.
And this is just purely and simply Fun, most of all for the players and delightful to see that happening.
London rocked. Don't really need to say much more than that. Which is good, because I have no time to say anything more anyway.
Guelph was a really good show for a great crowd. Some crowds know how to do "enthusiastic" without taking it over the top and making a mess of it; Guelph knows how to have (and share) a good time.
It was very good to hear Long Lost Love, and Turn is ever and always a deep and lasting pleasure. The crowd got so excited when Alan started into the opening of Company of Fools, which was so good to hear. The "mash-up" of Lukey/When I'm Up was priceless, though I'm not quite so sure about General Taylor/We Will Rock You. I liked Alan's pre-WIAK tribute to the local barmaid, whatever her name might be, too. A bit of a different vantage point for me, via the roulette of reserved seating: I got to see Sean's "even better" side - and a gorgeous England - and enjoyed The Bob Show very much.
After a moving Sea Of No Cares first encore, they called Spirit of the West back out and I expected Old Black Rum, but before that, they went into SoTW's Political, which Alan did as a solo number back at the second Vancouver Fortune's Favour show (sorry for the video's orientation). It is an excellent song, and I'm glad the folks in that big crowd (sold out to the doors, 3,000+) got to see and hear it. I'm glad I got to see and hear it too. It was something special.
I never can decide which version is better. I always wind up liking both.
Today I'm going to do something that scares me, which isn't all that big an undertaking since I'm not exactly the bravest soul around even in the best of times. Still, it's a big enough deal to me. I spent most of the night trying to decide what was the best thing to do, what was the right thing to do. The self-protective choice - my initial self-protective choice is always to turn tail and run...I would make such a good little lemur - is purely that, self-protective, aka self-absorbed, selfish, and so on. Funny how often "self-protective" works out that way, isn't it? So I am doing this instead, doing this and hoping it is the right thing and the kind thing and the loving thing to do. Just as soon as I manage to get myself out of this hotel room, that is.
Some time ago, Bob said something that has stuck in my mind. I don't have the text with me and will probably mangle his quote, but it what he said was to the effect that if things do not go the way you wanted them to go - if the show sucks or you fuck up the song or the shirt you are wearing makes you look fat...forge ahead. Don't look back, just forge ahead. I'm not so sure he'd say "Forge ahead and follow your heart"; that last part's mine, clearly enough. But the basic idea is still his, regardless of specific implementation. Today, I forge ahead. And if I fuck up today, tomorrow I forge ahead again.
Which means it's time for me to get out of this hotel room. Damn.
I'm at risk of missing an oddly routed bus to Guelph, so time only to post two videos from last night's St. Patrick's Day show in the WFCU Centre in Guelph (inaugural concert for that venue too - a very nice place, even if a bit out in the boondocks). Rowdy crowd, as to be expected, but I've been in worse. Thank God security chased away the would-be headbutters. And it was fun helping a little boy not get buffetted too much at his very first concert.
The two videos I'm putting up (there is a third, another version of the GBS/SoTW Old Black Rum closer, but that's not going to upload before I have to go catch my foolish bus) might not be characteristic of the overall tone of this show, but they're still among the moments I enjoyed the most.
There's also not enough time for my newfound and still-somewhat-shaky discretionary second-guessing to take control of what I write, so I am simply going to say what's been on my mind since Halifax and then repent at leisure: These are the last remaining lengths of what has been a grand race; these are the final few shows in support of what is a truly excellent CD. As much as I love nearly all of the music that Great Big Sea creates and performs, I would love even more to see the Fortune's Favour Tour ending with more of the Fortune's Favour music. And it's my personal belief that these big Canadian audiences would love to hear that music too, even if some of them might not know it yet.
And with that, there's a bus I am not going to be on if I don't move my impertinent little arse with alacrity.
Just had to add an ETA from the Windsor Bus Terminal: I scurry in through the door, and what do I hear playing? Save This House. Goes perfectly well with the Love Me Tonight serenade I got in the cab on the way to the St. John's airport yesterday morning. And that was followed immediately after by Beyonce's Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It). Nothing quite like good timing, is there?
ETA again; Sorry for the lyric fool-up in the title. I've been waiting the whole bus ride to get in and fix it.
The face that tells the story that had me at "Hello":
Video moments from the Mile One show, with just a few comments.
Spirit of the West dedicated this song to all those Newfoundlanders struggling to deal with a gterrible loss.
I've been genuimely enjoying the opening sets by Spirit of the West - intelligent and extremely well-played/performed songs, all the way up to the last two songs they've been doing. And those last two songs are clearly being thoroughly enjoyed by nearly everyone else in the crowd, so who am I to argue? I'll be glad for the likes of Venice Is Sinking (no, I do not get tired of the song's intro story because I love the audience reaction each time), Save This House, The Rites Of Man, Putting Up With The Joneses, and Another Happy New Year. I'll keep right on smiling politely through the expected hysteria generated by Home For A Rest and The Crawl. I do have some trouble keeping a straight face during the Celtic Tiger routine and the slo-mo bit, though, but, again, most of the crowd apparently loves it, so who am I to say what's right and what is wrong? Twenty-five years is an answer unto itself, and there is still so much great music there to be respected and appreciated.
As I explained in the prior entry, no video of GBS's own moment of honour and respect for the lost and those grieving that loss. As far as I am concerned, that moment belongs to those who sang the song together in Mile One. But I was ready for the main set's much-loved (even more so on a night such as this) opening number, for once in a good position to catch the dramatic curtain-drop too.
When I realised Alan was going to do the pre-Run, Runaway Singalongs at this show, I knew I wanted to video it, even though it meant I was going to lose the video of Company of Fools I'd just made (had to switch photo cards before that video had processed). Sad to lose the one, but no regrets because the Singalongs were priceless, Alan at his finest and fiercest and most surely in total command. Listen for the growl from the crowd in response to Alan's sardonic calling it as he sees it about their having sung the first Singalong "pretty good...to a Toronto standard". Then listen to how they sing after he says that. For those who travel to Newfoundland in hopes of seeing "what the boys are really like at a home show," here you go...here is what Alan is really like at home. Utterly splendid, isn't he?
Although I love the chorus, I've had trouble embracing some other parts of Here & Now; it has a few lyrics that feel less like sincere honesty and a bit more like artistic posturing. But of all the times I have heard and seen this song performed live so far, this was the night it has felt the most true and the most real, the most like a song with a genuine power to comfort and inspire.
It's going to take longer to explain the next brief video snippet than it will to watch it. Alan was introducing Helmethead, getting the crowd primed for Fare The Wells and fist-pumping. Sean suggested that the crowd could try to use a "sexier" voice for the Fare Thee Wells instead of just shrieking themn out at the top of their lungs. Alan cocked an eyebrow and said he was fine with the shrieking, that this was "Petty Harbour Sexy" for him. Then he turned and asked Murray if he could come up with a sexy Fare Thee Well. Alan's wish was Murray's command: Murray wrapped long fingers around his microphone, put his lips close, and a low, resonant, seductive Fare Thee Well rumbled through the rink. We all took a collective breath and then Murray, Alan, and Kris immediately broke out into their Porn Riff. This was where I finally remembered the camera. Best of all, and the real reason why the snippet's being included here, was when a throughly impertinent Murray hijacked Alan's favourite Porn Riff line: Somebody's gotta pay for this pizza. Way to go, Murray - eleven priceless video seconds.
For their first encore number, GBS blew the home crowd away with a blistering - and I think a somewhat unexpected, if slack-jawed amazement is a reliable indicator - song.
When they came back out for the second encore, all I could think was "Please, please - not the aching version of Clearest Indication, not tonight". You'd think I'd know better than that by now; you'd think I'd have the good sense to have complete trust in the man who makes the set lists for every show. He chose the perfect song for the evening, the perfect song to offer up in wistfully sweet hope for another 16 years.
And then it was high time for smiles and laughter and celebration, really and truly a time to dance, as their friends and, as Alan has described them, their heroes came out onstage to join them in a song that has become one of commnunal celebration here and elsewhere.
One more note that needs to be made about this show: When GBS's equipment truck got stuck in Sydney on the wrong side of the ferry route, that meant there had to be a frantic and challenging scramble on the part of GBS's intrepid crew to gather together all that was needed to make sure this show happened. The strength and success of the show is the best testimony of all to the crew's own strength and success in getting the job done with flying colours. Sound and lights were both excellent; I'd wager only the most experienced eye or ear even noticed any changes at all in the usual setup. They worked their arses off for the sake of the city that matters the most, as well as for the men who matter the most. Well done.
Speaking of who and what matters most, one more view of a bit more of the man who goes with the face that had me at "Hello".
Which segues quite nicely into a sincere "Thank you kindly" to those who've made comments in response to what I said last time about wondering about the wisdom of keeping on with the blog. Thoughtful and good-hearted advice all around, excellent points made and hereby acknowledged...diametrically opposed suggestions as well, intriguingly enough.
After thinking about it all a bit more, it occurs to me (for neither the first nor the last time, I am sure) that the more I come to this with the purpose to give, and the less with much expectation of taking, the more sense it all makes. I'll never understand why it is people come to the GBS world with It's All About Me fixations, not any more than I will ever understand the GBS-Happy-Fix folks or those who believe the spotlight earned by the hard work of another is something to which they themselves have some entitlement to intrude upon and attempt to usurp. I don't understand any of it, neither based on principles of not-so-common decency nor on principles of sheer pragmatics. But, at the end of the day, I don't need to understand it. All I need to do is stay true to my own half-broken heart and make my own choices.
Finally, this from The Telegram, March 16th With a note that it was Sean, not Alan, who made the opening remarks before England. And instead of "precluded" you need to think "preceded" for it to make sense, though there is some unintentional irony in that notion of preclusion from George Street on Paddy's Day Weekend. True enough for some of us. I'll limit myself to an exasperated sigh over the Clash attribution for I Fought The Law; no matter how young the writer may be, there's still Google and Wikipedia and due diligence. Not throwing a single stone for the error on The Rites Of Man title though; I think everyone messes that one up at times, myself definitely included. I will say once again that St. John's has an arts community that merits reviewers whose skills rise above the level of well-intentioned rookies in the daily paper and the self-promoting drivel of the local TV Guide, and I hope they someday get what they deserve. I miss The Independent.
Great Big St. Paddy's Day celebration Music Bands pay tribute to families who lost loved ones in recent helicopter crash
JUSTIN BRAKE Special To The Telegram
You couldn't ask for more appropriate musical entertainment on St. Paddy's Day weekend.
Hometown music heroes Great Big Sea and their West Coast "cousins" Spirit of The West played to a near sold-out crowd at Mile One Centre Saturday night, an event that precluded a mass migration to George Street on one of the city's busiest weekends for bar traffic.
Before Alan Doyle, Sean McCann, Bob Hallett, Murray Foster and Kris MacFarlane began their set, Doyle spoke solemnly about the oil industry aircraft accident which claimed the lives of 17 people when the helicopter went into the ocean about 55 kilometers off the coast of St. John's last Thursday.
"We've had a give and take relationship with the (Atlantic) for over 500 years," Doyle said as his band mates stood silently across the stage. "It's taken a lot of our brothers and sisters."
The band dedicated "England." a traditional-like song from their latest album, "Fortune's Favour," which McCann wrote about the hardships of life at sea.
The dedication and remembrance was humble and classy, and the band members even dressed for the occasion, but when they returned moments later they appeared as ready as ever to put on a rock show.
Doyle, now sporting a beard, and McCann rotated in leading the band through the early songs, like the recent radio single "Love Me Tonight," "Captain Kidd" and "The Night Pat Murphy Died."
For the most part, Great Big Sea omitted from the set many of the "pop songs" of the band's 1999-2004 years, and offered a more rock and traditional union of tunes.
"Lukey" was welcomed by the boisterous crowd, most of which jumped to its feet to dance in the rows.
The red background of the "Fortune's Favour" stage set and green St. Paddy's Day attire on the floor combined in creating a sort of Christmas concert visual atmosphere. But the mixture of some of the band's recent tunes, like "Here and Now." "Dream to Live" and "Company of Fools," and old favourites, contributed to the St. Paddy's weekend atmosphere.
"This song we learned from Fergus O'Byrne," said McCann, introducing "General Taylor" from 1997's "Play." "Let's hope he's out there tonight."
The audience joined in on the singing of "Taylor," as well as others like "Run Runaway" and "Mari Mac," but the most intense moments of vitality were sporadic.
"Let's get some of the ol' up and down happenin,'" Doyle demanded at one point between songs. "It's Saturday night for god's sake!"
After an extended jam at the end of "Company of Fools," which managed to get everybody on their feet, Doyle kept the momentum going by leading the crowd through a medley of cover songs including The Clash's "I Fought The Law," Bryan Adams' "Summer of '69," The Proclaimers' "I'm Gonna Be," and an impressive, though hilarious, singalong to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody."
"It's nice to be home," he said, grinning as the audience cheered its own effort to be part of the show.
"Ordinary Day" rounded out the set, but the band returned for an encore, during which they thanked the hometown crowd for their support over the years. Having celebrated its 16th birthday just last week, Doyle announced, "I think this is somewhere around the one-hundredth stop of the 'Fortune's Favour' tour. It's nice to bring the songs of Newfoundland around the world. Thanks so much for looking after us - it's been 16 years. Here's to 16 more."
They performed a toned-down rendition of "Sea of No Cares," a song Doyle told the audience was written in McCann's living room.
But before they sent everyone on down to George Street, the band brought out Spirit of the West to join in on "The Old Black Rum".
Spirit of the West, it should be noted, recently celebrated 25 years as a band. During Great Big Sea's set, Doyle and McCann told the story of how it was Spirit of the West who gave them their break by inviting them on tour in Ontario in the mid-90s.
"Then they kicked us off the tour," said Doyle.
"We drank all their beer," McCann joked.
"I don't know why, but something tells me they're getting us back as we speak," Doyle laughed.
Spirit's set was brief, but they packed in some quality performances, including "The Rights of Man", which they dedicated to the helicopter crash victims and their families, new tune "Another Happy New Year", and of course their trademark drinking song, "Home For A Rest."
Needless to say, it was a "prime" time Saturday evening, in that most were just getting started.
Now to work getting ready to head out again. I wonder if I brought anything green with me this time? Ah, yes - I bought a dandy little green top at the Chicago HOB to pay off the "Pass The Line" ransom. Perfect timing, if I can find it.
Should we find Fortune's Favour And be spared from the gale We will live off honest labour With our hearts as big as sails But if I should die don't bury me Or leave me to the sea Please send my bones back to my home Where my spirit can be free. - England, Sean McCann
The lights went down, the recorded intro music stopped. The hum and buzz of the crowd ceased, a collective intake of breath in anticipation of the expected mad dash out onto the stage. A few more moments passed; the waiting crowd slowly fell near-silent. Then, with the lights still low, the Great Big Sea band members walked slowly and deliberately out onto the stage, with upright stance and solemn expression. A few brief words from Sean about a shared loss that needed no further explanation, then Alan began to play his guitar with a gentle hand and Sean started the singing:
We shipped on board the Maryanne To find a better life And we walked across the water When she broke up in the ice...
When they and their fellow Newfoundlanders had finished singing England together, all five of the men on stage walked off. The stage went dark again, a moment of acknowledgemet and honour offered up to those who comprehended the worth of the gift. When a respectful amount of time had passed, the Banks Of Newfoundland began to play and the show went on.
I had started to video England the moment I realised what they were doing, but a moment after that, I understood what they were doing. It felt like a private moment of shared grief and an affirmation - an embracing - of communal identity. I turned off the video, took these two pictures, and then added my own empathetic guest's voice to the swelling chorus.
But when Sean got to the lines quoted here at the beginning, I was too choked up to sing them. Not so for those whose families have lived the truth of those lines for hundreds of years; strong voices rang out all across the big rink, strong and proud.
What sometimes feels like a lifetime ago, though it was only the spring of 2002, I met a fellow in Florida who had been living away from home for too many years, though no matter what the count of years, he would never think of himself otherwise. "I am a Newfoundlander," he declared, jabbing his finger into my shoulder for emphasis. "There is no limit to the number of times my heart can be broken."
I sincerely believe that while all of us are capable of persuading ourselves that a lie is the truth, most of us can recognise Truth when it is laid out openly on the table in front of us, something that demands acknowledgement from heart even if mind should lag a bit behind in comprehension. I did not understand what that emphatic fellow meant by his self-description - and time would prove how very little I even understood about how much I did not understand - but I knew beyond a doubt that what he was saying was True. If I had understood then what he meant - if I had known the likely outcome of handing a heart over to those who define themselves by the limitlessness of heartbreak - I very well might have turned tail and run.
But I didn't - didn't understand and didn't run, leaving me grateful in retrospect for the first and glad in here and now for the second. All I knew then was that this was something true and something real, something that caught hold of heart and mind alike. This was what I had heard in Alan's music from the first and what I was seeing in his face, a theme that repeated in what I kept hearing and seeing the more I listened and looked.
I am a Newfoundlander - there is no limit to the number of times my heart can be broken. Those are terrible wonderful words. At the time, I had no clue just how terrible, nor how wonderful. It has been a very long road from the Uprooted Tour in 2002; when I heard the Mile One crowd singing Sean's song, heart and mind alike knew why this was true, why this was real. As the crowd voiced its pride and its pain together, I remembered an emphatic man in a stuffy hotel lobby on a steamy, rainy night in St. Pete. and thought that maybe, just maybe, I might finally be beginning to understand.
Which is not to say that everyone reacted alike during this show; to say that would be to endorse yet another constricting stereotype. There were those who were moved by the tribute (and by the one done by Spirit of the West as well - I do have a video of that and will put it up next time) and who were then inspired by the music and the men on stage into finding their way into a community of celebration. And then there were those - some from away, yes, but others born-and-bred locals - who persisted in blind (if not mute) assurance that all was about them, the spotlight properly theirs. The men on stage and the community of celebration more or less ignored them, however, and the result was a very good show.
Not so much a spectacular sbow, not on a night when something more important than "spectacular" needed to take place, and it did. This show was more about warmth and comfort and reassurance and affirmation, exactly as it needed to be. On a night where many in the thousands present needed to be encouraged to stand and dance and sing together, the one man whose bellow of "Get up, get up, get up!" is instantly obeyed by even the most recalcitrant Newfoundlander gave them exactly what they needed. The music whose success is a testament to hope and hard work and determination gave them exactly what they needed. The self-absorbed can fend for themselves - the people in Mile One who really matter were very well-served by the men they had come to see, who gave them exactly what they needed. I saw smiling faces on the way out and people walking arm in arm down New Gower and Duckworth and Water. GBS did good work at Mile One.
Just a few photos from this show for now because this one was too special to take forever before getting any pictures done.
A set list for the show in the city that matters the most. As said, England preceded Love Me Tonight.
Two from Ferryland Sealer
Bob wanders Murrayward. Just when you think you've seen all there is to see at a GBS show.
I completely forgot to breathe while Alan was having his way with his guitar during Dream To Live.
Not only did Sean put on an excellent show, he was also frigging cute at this one.
Bob put on his own deadly show. He was pretty darn cute too. Damn, I am getting sappy these days.
Finally, the Captain of The Good Ship Mile One.
I have a batch of videos ready to put up from Mile One, but I think I'll leave that for tomorrow's entry, along with some specific show details. It is bloody late (early, actually) and I have to get some sleep. There are a million things to do tomorrow, or at least there are if I stick with my original travel plans. I am in the midst of an internal debate, whether to go ahead and head out to Windsor on Tuesday or stay here a bit longer and switch the flight over to Montreal. I got a long and sobering (using that word very metaphorically, given the pint count at the time) view from no-man's-land last night, a disturbingly clear vantage point of all the outsides and insides and the unceasing struggles to get from the one to the other. I am also well and truly sick of morons who shriek and flail for a crumb of attention (though endlessly grateful to friends who are willing to fend said morons off), as well as being far beyond any sensible definition of Middle Ground. If it were not for the upcoming hiatus, I'd be sorely tempted to stay here a few more days...but there is indeed that upcoming hiatus, so chances are I will be at the airport considerably before the crack of dawn on Tuesday. Either way, I'll put the Mile One video links up here tomorrow.
While on the topics of internal debates, I should probably say a bit more. It's pretty obvious I've been reluctant to post comments lately and the reasons I've been giving aren't all that convincing. Truth be told, the blog's been getting an intimidating number of hits lately, most of them coming in on searches for informatiion about Alan, which I'm assuming is a response to the news about his role in Russell's film. Since things occasionally get a bit off the rails in comments discussion, I've been reluctant to let any of it get started, nearly as reluctant as I've been to put anything in the main entries that might create some sort of negative impression about him or GBS with all of these unknown eyeballs perusing here. Thank you to those who've said no big deal if the comments get posted and I hope the rest will understand if the profile is kept a bit lower than usual. Try your best to help, but most of all Do No Harm.
Finally, along the same lines, I've been at times questioning the overall viability of the blog. As much as I deeply appreciate the efforts of caring and thoughtful friends who look out for me and watch my back (literally) when I'm vulnerable to getting flattened at shows, there's a different kind of vulnerability that comes from trying to write with an open heart in any public forum, especially when miserable people keep coming to read for the explicit purpose of finding cause for ridicule and hate. I can understand why some live their lives putting up with such incessant shit when said miserable people are a sadly unfortunate part of how they make their own living. But all I've ever been doing here is saying "I think the world of this fellow...these other fellows are pretty darn special too" for no reason or recompense beyond stubborn affection. Constantly being a totally vulnerable target with (metaphorically) unprotected back for the ridicule and hatred of miserable people does get tiresome. Yet another observation from the vantage point of no-man's-land.
But chances are I'll be as likely to keep right on volunteering for target practice as I am to be on the flight to Windsor Tuesday morning. It really is a good thing that I didn't understand the ramifications of what the enphatic fellow in St. Pete was saying. If I had, I might have missed so much that is simply and purely Unmissable. Or, to put it another way...Worth Every Single Cent. No-man's-land is graced with a wide and expansive view; I can even see Heaven On Earth from here.
Tour Diary - March 13, 2009 - AC Flight 662 (Halifax-St. John’s) Friday, March 13, 2009
Finally homeward bound after more than three weeks on the move. I think this is the longest stint away from H since he was born. Hard on the head. Skype helps, but it is no replacement for the real deal. Almost there.
Sad news from home with the North Atlantic seems to have claimed a few more of Newfoundland’s own. A chopper bound for a couple of offshore oil stations went down yesterday and it appears only two of the 18 people aboard will be found and only one clinging to life. As many of you know, we folks of the Rock have had a give and take relationship with the sea for over 500 years. Mother ocean has been our chief source of food, employment and commerce, and in reality her bounty is the solely responsible the existence of our Colony, Nation, and Province. Yet she has claimed more than a few of our sons and daughters over the years, and it looks like the song remains the same.
Sean sent out a tune to the families and indeed the passengers of the Chopper themselves last night. Very appropriately, he chose ‘England’ from Fortune’s Favour, a song he penned about the hardships of living off the angry brine.
Class act. Well done.
Both the Halifax and Moncton shows were a thrill. We have not played a big gig in New Brunswick in a number of years and we were so pleased with the considerable turn out and response on a Cold and snowy Wednesday night. Halifax continues to be our home away from home. Last night we beat our indoor paid attendance record for Halifax with almost 5000 folks in the house. That’s an astounding show of support for a band that has been playing regularly in the city for a decade and a half. I am so grateful.
No late night shenanigans last night, however as I was too eager to get home in a fresh frame of mind. Shame to miss a night on the town in Halifax, but I confide that my mind was one Province east as soon as the show finished last night. I would have red-eyed if one was available.
Hope the wee fella is not spooked by the bearded dude who wakes him up from his nap this afternoon. He’s seen the facial hair grow on daily Skype sessions, but I fear the in person effect might be too much.
Here’s for a big gig on Saturday in the town that matters most.
I enjoyed that journal entry so much it was impossible to pick out only a few quotes, which is why it's up here in its entirety. Dearly loved the self-portrait, words and picture alike. I can't imagine not being deeply fond of that face, especially when it is graced with what might very well be the first self-revealing beard I've ever seen. "Lovely, lovely" in all aspects of the description.
I've only got a few days back here in St. John's with a whole lot of things to get done and some very reluctant farewells-for-now to get said. It still catches me off-guard a bit how glad I am to come back here each time; I was out of the airport, into the cab, and then through the front door in record time, breathing a happy sigh of relief as that door closed behind me. Departure day on Tuesday and the nearly-two-months before the next return are already on my mind. This is a hard place to leave, such an easy place to return to. The easiest place to love, even during the hardest of times. It's an unusual way to live - to leave a part of your heart on an edge (or two) of a wide and sometimes-weary continent, to come back each time to find that part of your heart waiting to embrace you, then to go off again and carry all the love of a full heart with you wherever you travel. Always missing someone or something you love, but always loving someone or something wherever you are at the present moment. Deeply grateful for what is close enough to touch, wistfully longing for what seems vastly far away.
I hope the show tonight in "the town that matters most" is everything Alan desires, spectacular even beyond his highest hopes. I hope he winds up being twice as thrilled in Mile One as he was in Moncton and Halifax combined - I love the thought of his being thrilled by how good the show is and how much he and his band mates are indeed being loved tonight. In a world where so many hard and difficult and painful moments are indelibly written onto our memories, I hope Mile One, March 14, 2009 - just a few days into the "remaining three-quarters" of GBS's career - is Absolutely Unforgettable, for every wonderful reason.
I have no doubt at all that it will be that way for me. In one of those "pushing the credibility of the plot line" story twists, in all of the vast expanse of Mile One I have somehow wound up with the exact same seat at this show that I had at the December 2004 show, the last time GBS played the big rink here, the rescheduled show that ended the Something Beautiful Tour, along with a few other things. More than four years and countless miles later, the music is even stronger than it was, as is the love. Every now and then, Fact writes it better than Fiction ever could.
I've been diligently uploading Moncton and Halifax videos since I got in, and will have those all ready to link here in not too much longer, along with what I hope will be a few from Mile One, always with the caveat of what the venue will and will not allow. There are also a few really good articles/interviews I'd like to share here, for those who might not be catching them on other sites, along with a few personal comments about the recent shows. I honestly will get the comments others have made here up too, possibly tomorrow, if I get more done this afternoon than is looking likely right now. Tonight is booked all the way to the wee hours, so whatever doesn't happen before 5 pm is going to have to wait till tomorrow.
One last chuckle before I get back to catch-up: I've been reminded that while I tend to think of March 14th as the Official Alan's Spectacular Show In The City That Matters Most Day, for some, this is Official Steak And A Blow Job Day. Then again, as Anne has pointed out to me, it is also Official Pi Day. No worries - how about Official Steak and Pi(e) and a Blow Job Day, followed by (or preceded by, depending on one's own personal schedule...even better, how about both before and after?) the Spectacular Show In The City That Matters Most. As long as a few pre-and-post-festivity(ies) pints are included, it's all good to me.
On one of those nights where there's more that does not make sense than does, what better choice to make than to cast gaze in the same direction toward which heart inclines?
From the March 11, 2009, Moncton show: Happy Birthday, Great Big Sea & Sweet Penelope.
Published by MTV Movies Team on Thursday, March 12, 2009 at 3:49 pm.
By Lindsay Wallace
Recently, it was announced that Alan Doyle — lead singer of the popular Canadian band Great Big Sea — had been cast as Allen a-Dale in Ridley Scott’s upcoming “Robin Hood” film. We caught up with the frontman soon after, and Doyle was ready to dish on his new role. The film is set to star Russell Crowe as Robin Hood and Cate Blanchett as Lady Marion.
Doyle’s character, Allen a-Dale, is one of the Merry Men in the Robin Hood story. “He’s a troubadour,” exclaimed Doyle. “He’s an Irish lute playing balladeer. He’s an artist who loves to sing a song. With two or three other guys, Allen a -Dale is one of the Merry Men who’s followed Robin Hood for a long time and hopes to continue to do so. Yes, I will be playing the lute in the film.”
Doyle explained that Ridley’s re-imagining of Robin Hood is to be surprisingly musical. “There is a lot of singing in the film,” he told us. “A lot of it by different people in different parts of the film. I don’t know quite yet if Russell and I will be singing together. But there will be lots of music in the film.”
So, how did this Canadian rock star with very little acting experience land such a gig? Doyle explained that Russell Crowe is a longtime close friend. “Russell knew there was a role coming up in this film and they needed a guy that could do the training and the physical stuff that was required, but also someone who has a long history in Celtic music and somebody who could play the lute. I’m sure there’s lots of people in the world who can do that, but he called me and asked me if I’d like to come to LA to read for the part. And off we went.”
With filming to begin in England on April 1st, there is still much mystery surrounding Ridley’s vision and the script is still evolving. However, there will clearly be some “Gladiator”-esque action scenes for Crowe and Doyle, as they have been training with horses, archery and sword fighting.
“I was just training in Australia with a couple of the other Merry Men,” he said. “It’s like a ten-year-old boys fantasy schedule; you wake up and have horse riding at ten o’clock, archery at eleven o ‘clock, sword fighting at twelve o’clock. It was really fun, I’m really looking forward to it all.”
It should be interesting to see Crowe and Doyle on screen together in this film. The duo has performed together in the past, so perhaps they’ll be bringing their musical collaborations to the big screen as well. “I wrote a few songs with Russell for his band, and he wrote a few with me for Great Big Sea, and I also produced a record for his band and actually toured a couple of times in Australia and in Europe, I was sort of a guest in his band. It was a great collaboration, to be honest. He’s got a real different skill set than I have. He’s a real keen word smith as most of my actor friends are.
“It’s funny how they can do that isn’t, those actor types.” Doyle laughed, “But I’m an actor type now, so I have to stop referring to them in the third person!”
Ridley Scott’s “Robin Hood” is slated for a 2010 release.
Heart's Desire, perhaps eventually Heart's Content. It will suffice. That, and Mile One. I will put up the rest of the Moncton videos and the Halifax videos after I get back to St. John's and catch up with comments too - I'm sorry for the delay. I am looking forward to the morning's flight.
I'm currently losing the battle with one of the tweakiest internet connections I've ever encountered. No way any videos are going to upload - I've been reduced to cheering at simply getting these two photos up. So I'll be content with the photos and make an another attempt at the videos at the next hotel. There are some really cute videos from this Birthday/Anniversary show...The Moncton crowd singing Happy Birthday to GBS followed by a lovely Penelope, an impromptu Love In My Pants that segues straight into Charlie Horse (which seems quite appropriate, given Alan's recent insight into the "Pull the logs together" line), a sizzling set of Singalongs (loud crowd...definitely back in Atlantic Canada), a bit of Beyonce, an awesome Dream To Live, and the show-closer - an off-setlist and utterly charming Lukey, most definitely with vertical movement and maximum bass. Very good stuff from what was a fun show, even if the Most Gorgeous of Wandering Minstrels did look more than a bit in need of a soft pillow and welcoming bed. I'll hope that Halifax's Delta has a better connection than does Moncton's and try to put the very good stuff up once we get there.
A quick note about Spirit of the West, in lieu of more to come later when I have more time and a less-balky connection. I was very impressed with how they played it straight and played it well all the way up to the two last songs. Venice Is Sinking and The Rites of Man were standouts, and the recent song about New Year's is also quite good. I was watching John Mann play guitar, thinking about what Alan had just said in a recent interview about how much Mann's style impacted Alan's own guitar-playing approach. Given how much I love the way Alan pounds his guitars - how that technique caught my attention from the very first time I saw him all the way back on that CBC Songwriters' Circle and it's held my attention ever since - it's inspiring a whole new level of appreciation for SOTW. Overall, SOTW really caught and kept the attention of a crowd that seemed largely unfamiliar with most of their songs, an especially notable accomplishment early on in their set. And of course the two drinking songs and concommitant foolishness at the end were a big hit with all those who pretty much think that's what SOTW is really all about anyway. I'm not exactly unfamiliar with that assessment and response.
Quite familiar too with the customarily rowdy Atlantic Canadian crowd pressed up against the barrier. Kris noted the most pertinent point about the mostly-young crowd that immediately surged forward the moment GBS took the stage: Yes, they were a bit wild, but they also knew all of the words to most of the songs. And while it's not always the best situation to find yourself wedged into (I did take Jennifer out post-show for the drink I seriously owed her for switching spots with me and keeping the Crazed Flailing Chick - whose very first words upon reaching the barrier were a breathless "Can they see us from here?...which was a very reliable predictor of her behaviour to come - from flattening me with her frenzied thrashing), I'm guessing that it was great for the band to have that turbulent sea of youthful exuberance/hysteria washing up right at their feet. Rink Rock at its finest. Moncton gave GBS quite a nice little birthday present with that fervent enthusiasm, and I cannot think of anyone more deserving of such a sweet gift.
I have a suspicion that the Great Big Birthday Party is likely to continue on in Halifax, and then carry on to St. John's from there. At least, I hope that's so. Sixteen years - or, as Alan likes to put it, the first half (on some nights, the first third) of GBS's career - is something to celebrate in the life of any band. Whatever the future holds, right now is the perfect time and the perfect place to take all due pleasure and pride in what is truly a rare and inarguably a hard-won accomplishment. That, and lots of cake. There should always be lots of cake.
Well, that took a bit longer than just getting to Boston. I've been practising the unfamiliar art of thinking before speaking. And listening to Clearest Indication play over and over again in my thoughts...along with Lucky Me. Somehow, the two songs have become inseparable in mind and heart. I am Moncton-bound with birthdays on my mind.
The more I thought about it yesterday, the more I realised that I had already said most of what needed to be said - most of what mattered to me - about the second Chicago HOB show and the overall weekend, except perhaps to add that it was (as ever) a delight to hear Penelope again and that if Mari Mac has to be done during a GBS show, then that is for sure the way to do it. Most of all, what I still need to say is how much I loved the addition of Jesse's Girl to the pre-Run, Runaway Singalongs, and Summer of '69 too; it's been a long time since Alan did either of these and they have been very much missed. And I won't be forgetting the stage positioning of the other players during those Singalongs anytime soon.
Two very good shows and two (for the most part) very good crowds - just because I came away from the weekend haunted by that wrenching trio-version of Clearest and also by the fleeting look of panic in Alan's eyes when his elevator did not take him where he wanted to go...none of that takes away one bit from how well all of them played and how splendidly the Dearest of all Wandering Minstrels performed. Chicago truly rocked. And then it rocked again.
Speaking of the lovely man: Of all the links that have been sent to me about his role in Russell's upcoming film, this is the one that has made me smile the most, partly because I think it's cool that he's being written about in some Italian film blog and partly because the blogger had the excellent taste to use such a strikingly beautiful picture of the strikingly beautiful man. And partly because I think he'd make quite the charming little rooster.
Ridley Scott ha trovato il suo “pollo”. Ahem. Ricordate che nel leggendario cartone animato della Disney c’è un gallo che se ne va in giro a suonare il liuto? Beh, non era un’invenzione della Disney - il personaggio s’intende, non il pollo. Trattasi di Alan-a-Dale, un menestrello presente nella leggenda di Robin Hood ma che poco o nessuno spazio ha avuto nelle varie versioni cinematografiche.
Ma in quella di Scott ci sarà, e non solo: a interpretarlo sarà il quasi omonimo frontman dei Great Big Sea, gruppo folk canadese, Alan Doyle. Pare che Russell Crowe abbia giocato un ruolo decisivo nel casting, visto che Doyle aveva pure collaborato al suo album del 2005, My Hand, My Heart.
In una delle versioni della storia originale, Alan viene separato dalla sua innamorata, costretta a sposare un vecchio cavaliere. Ma Robin interviene, interrompe il matrimonio e riunisce i due giovani. Alla fine, è lui stesso a celebrare le nozze, anche se in altri testi è Fra’ Tuck a sposare i due.
First up, apropos of not much else to follow after other than being part and parcel of the abiding assessment of and affection for the Dear and the Sweet, the last of the Cedar Falls videos, this the (somewhat geographically-impaired) Iowa Impromptu ditty that preceded that evening's rendition of Old Black Rum.
As time goes by, I'm finding nore and more that these endearing little off-the-cuff local tunes are the very best part of OBR's winding up on the set list.
Quite a different song preceding Old Black Rum at the second Chicago HOB show - on Saturday, the first encore began with that wrenching trio version of Clearest Indication - and quite a different emotional response as well ...still sweet and dear, but this time accompanied by a painful and enduring ache. Haunting. I spent much of yesterday debating what I wanted to say about this show and about the overall weekend; now it is tomorrow and I'm not very much closer to an answer. I should probably wait a bit longer because no matter what I say, there won't be time to finish - I am sitting at my gate in O'Hare waiting to board my really-frigging-cheap-because-I-waited-till-ugly-early-Monday-morning flight to Boston and I have several hours free after I get into Logan while waiting to connect with the friend who I'll be staying with for the next few days before we head to Moncton.
So then if I don't really know yet what I want to (and want not to) say, and if I've got plenty of time to think about it now and then do it later...why write anything at all right now? Good question. I'm not sure myself. Maybe for the same reason I kept myself from writing anything at all yesterday...actually, for the flip side of that reason. Yesterday, I was worried that if I wrote too soon without thinking about it first, I might say something better left unsaid. Today, I'm not sure if waiting too long and thinking too much might mean the opposite.
In the last few minutes I have here before getting onto a plane and being unable to change my mind and edit this into something else altogether, I'll say this much: There are times when the awareness of precious time wasted and longed-for opportunity deferred is a heavy weight on mind and heart, times when the presence of that which I fervently wish would not (and the absence of that I fervently wish would) take place as part of experiencing these shows leaves a good deal of weariness and doubt in its wake. And then the house lights go down, the curtain opens, and the music begins to play. The spotlight shines bright and is filled with its right and proper occupant. Magnificence and desire are sufficient answer to any and all questions. As they always are.
Both HOB shows were excellent, two of the best back-to-back GBS shows in some time. All of them played excellently in Friday's show, but Saturday belonged to Alan, who played it as if it were the last and most important show of his life. He was amazing. He was sufficient answer to any and all questions. As he always is.
There is more to say, and I will edit it in when I get to Boston.
Finally, here we are! Downtown...headlining two nights at the House Of Blues in Chicago! - Alan Doyle, with a smile across his face
Gay Porn. - Bob Hallett, in response to Sean's question as to whether he too would be starring in a major motion picture this summer.
Just a few quick notes before heading out to to a bit of Windy (and Rainy...this is rapidly becoming a Chicago tradition) City touristing, along with anotherCedar Falls video I finally got uploaded, this of General Taylor and the rescue of a Fair Lady(bug).
It was a very good show for a packed house last night in the Chicago House of Blues, a gorgeous venue there will be no photos of, sad to say, HOB being how HOB usually is with cameras. Really a cool setup though, especially watching the folks up in the two balconies high above the main floor. The crowd (on all levels) was nearly as excited about being there as Alan clearly was - one of these days I am expecting him to jump straight out of his pants when he gets as excited as he was last night, or perhaps better to say I am hoping for such an outcome - though those are indeed lovely pants he's been wearing...that white stitching tells its own tantalising tale. I do believe he has found the next generation of The Pants That Say Alan. To quote the Rock/Movie Star: Lovely, lovely.
A good set list for this show too, one major highlight being what Sean called the debut live performance of Rocks Of Merasheen. Although they did do an impromptu a cappella version of that same song back at the Atlantic City House Of Blues show last spring, this one was with full instrumentation and it sounded beautiful, especially Bob's accordion part. It was great to hear John Barbour again - played very powerfully by all hands...this has to be one of GBS's best instrumental arrangements - and Gallows Pole made for a deadly and much-appreciated substitution in the customary "Mari Mac slot" of their set list. Hearing Something Beautiful during the encores was a delightful surprise, and the return of Excursion was welcomed and enjoyed. Alan promised a quite different set list for tonight's second HOB show, so even more to look forward to.
My own personal Top Highlight of this first HOB show was a blistering rendition of Oh Yeah, glorious to eyes and ears alike. Alan's guitar-playing was purely impure pleasure, and that white stitchery deserved accompanying-instrument billing. A thousand curses on the HOB's no-camera policies. A thousand blessings on the benefit of lovely, lasting memories. I'm very much looking forward to that tantalising tale tonight.
Speaking of tantalising tales, some of the Hotel Sax's rather unique amenities are quite the imagination-teasers, in particular the leather pillows strewn across the bed. It's got me toying with a new chapter of that Tale, one featuring the combination of pillows and white stitches. Not quite sure how to work in the bowling alley yet...still thinking about that one. The creative process takes time.
There are shows where my so-called critical faculties are completely subsumed by one single and solitary thought: You are so wonderful. Accompanied by foolishly delighted grin, all night long. That pretty much describes last night's GBS Iowa show for me.
Still the same single and solitary thought in my mind this morning. Still the same foolishly delighted grin too. All the way to Chicago, all the way to Ottawa...all the way to wherever the wonderful leads.
Video Evidence Of Wonderful:
Yesterday was the day Alan was finally able to publicly announce his Big News (part of his Big News, that is - one of the best things about great news for a wonderful fellow is that there is almost always more to come, all in its own time) about his having won a role - that of troubadour Allan A'Dayle - in the upcoming Russell Crowe/Cate Blanchett/Ridley Scott film about Robin Hood. As always, Alan the Author tells it best in his own words:
Tour Diary - March 5, 2009 - Cedar Falls, Iowa - On the Bus
Back on the bus following an interesting few weeks around the BNL Cruise. First of all let me say that I’m sad to hear Steve Page is leaving the Ladies, but wish him and the remaining lads well in their endeavors. With their talents and energy, I am sure we’ll be hearing a lot from all hands for a long time to come.
Now to get some news off my chest. I’m terrible at keeping secrets, so this announcement comes with great relief. Yours truly has been cast as the Troubadour, Allan A’Dayle in the new Universal Pictures Untitled Robin Hood Film. The film is to star Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett, and to be directed by Ridley Scott. If you recall, I had to scoot to LA after the big fundraising gig in Toronto last December. I went, Lute in hand, to read and sing for the part and must have done all right, as I’ve been offered and accepted the gig.
For a number of days prior to and following the BNL Cruise, I was in Australia with Russell, and some of the other Merry Men, training in Horse Riding, Archery, Weapons Training and a few other skills required for the role. It was great fun, I must say, to look at your schedule for the day and have it read like a 12 year old boy’s fantasy; bows and arrows at 10am, sword fighting at 11am etc.
Like all good things, this opportunity comes with some sacrifice. GBS will have to bow out of this year’s Merlefest, Chautauqua and Iowa Irish Festival gigs, as the film’s shooting schedule does not allow me to make it to the Festivals from the sets in the UK. Too bad, as we all wanted to join up with the long list of heralded music at those events. The organizers have been very understanding and all hands hope we can make it there as soon as possible, maybe even 2010.
Filming should take up the bulk of the second quarter of 2009, so our March concerts in the US and the Canadian Dates with Spirit of the West will be the last chance to see us for a few months. It will be business as usual in the GBS camp in the second half of this year as we plan to tour and record as per normal.
I am very grateful to the Cast and Crew of GBS for their permission and support for this sabbatical, and hope you’ll continue to join me here as I hope to post regular blogs throughout the film shoot. Don’t expect me to give away the plot or anything, but I hope to share as much of this experience as possible with everyone who enjoys this diary.
Should be fun.
Cheers, Alan
*********************************************
A few more articles about Newfoundland's newest film star:
Great Big Sea's Alan Doyle to play one of Russell Crowe's merry men
When Russell Crowe sallies forth from Sherwood Forest to rob from the rich and give to the poor, a Newfoundland balladeer will play his most musical merry man.
Warner Music announed Thursday that Alan Doyle, singer and multi-instrumentalist for the Celtic rock band Great Big Sea, will play the minstrel Allan A’Dayle in an upcoming film about Robin Hood. Expected for release in 2010, it will be directed by Ridley Scott and star Crowe as the legendary English outlaw opposite Cate Blanchett’s Maid Marian. Originally conceived as a zany retelling of the folk story, the project has reportedly since morphed into a more straightforward tale of derring-do.
“It’s a great role and a good opportunity,” said Doyle, reached by cellphone Thursday as he prepared for a Great Big Sea gig in Cedar Falls, Iowa. Doyle met Crowe while the Australian actor was in Toronto filming Cinderella Man in 2005. The pair became friends and musical collaborators; Doyle produced and helped write songs for Crowe’s 2005 album My Hand, My Heart.
Doyle said yesterday Crowe had a little something to do with his being cast in the movie, which is going by the title Robin Hood for now. “Over a year ago, Russell mentioned the possibility that there could be a role for a musician, someone who could play Celtic instruments and play ballads and stuff.”
Though he doesn’t know for certain, Doyle imagines Crowe pulled some strings to get him the part as the lute-strumming merry man. “If you’re working on a new house and you have friends who know how to plaster, you hire your friends who can plaster. If you’re doing a movie and you need a dude who can play the lute, you phone your friend who can play the lute.”
The musician, who will be acting in a major Hollywood picture for the first time, doesn’t yet know if he’ll be asked to contribute his songwriting skills to the project.
Nor does he know much about the script yet. Noting that Allan A’Dayle isn’t normally a major factor in the plot of Robin Hood adaptations, Doyle hoped for a bigger role for the minstrel. “I think it should be bigger, don’t you?”
Doyle said filming starts the first week of April in London. In the meantime, Great Big Sea has a set of nine Canadian dates coming up from March 11 to 26, with Spirit of the West also on the bill for the first eight. For details visit greatbigsea.com.
[Photo: Alan Doyle plays Ottawa with Great Big Sea last year. Wayne Cuddington / Ottawa Citizen]
Alan Doyle to play role in Russell Crowe/Ridley Scott movie The Telegram
Great Big Sea singer Alan Doyle has been added to the cast of the Russell Crowe/Ridley Scott movie, playing Troubadour Allan A’Dayle.
The movie, which is untitled as of yet, is a Robin Hood adventure film set during the time of Richard the Lionheart. Local actor Gordon Pinsent is also set to star in the film, as a character called Sir Walter.
“I wanted Friar Tuck, but I guess I didn’t put on enough weight,” Pinsent told The Telegram with a laugh in December. The movie, which will be filmed in London, England, was supposed to have started production last fall, but was postponed until the spring due to a looming strike of the Screen Actors’ Guild.
“I am so excited to work with Russell and Ridley and all the cast and crew. This is certain to be the ride of a lifetime. Hang on,” Doyle said in a media statement.
Crowe is a longtime supporter of Great Big Sea, having written the song “Company of Fools” for their latest album, “Fortune’s Favour.” Doyle produced and co-wrote several songs on Crowe’s album, “My Hand, My Heart,” and has played a number of shows with his band, The Ordinary Fear of God.
Great Big Sea will be touring Canada this month, stopping at Mile One Centre March 14
As spectacular an opportunity as this is for Alan and as great as I am sure he is going to be doing this (not a bit of doubt about it) - and with all of the excellent PR the opportunity is going to bring back to GBS - I think the part of it I am currently enjoying the very most is the thought of how much fun he had while getting to be the delighted boy learning his feats of derring-do at Merry Men Training Camp on Russell's farm, days filled with horseback-riding and swordplay and bows and arrows, Boy Play at its diligent best. I love those images, love the thought of his laughter and excitement. Such laughter and excitement, delight and fun, creative challenge and artistic reward (with plenty of song-writing time budgeted in too - lots and lots of waiting involved in filming) could not happen to a more deserving man. Every time I think it's not possible to be any more proud of him, he finds a way to prove otherwise. To raise the bar, as it were.
Like an arrow in flight...Oh Yeah.
Alan makes a very good point in expressing his gratitude to all the other members of the GBS Cast and Crew for their support; there's inarguable impact on schedules and incomes and it is generous and understanding of everyone to agree that this is an opportunity that is great for Alan, and quite possibly for GBS as well in the long run. Alan's probably got his fair share of (moderately) good-natured abuse ahead of him because of this, but that's a customary and expected price to pay for such a grand adventure; Alan is much better than most anyone when it comes to paying a fair price for what he desires.
As for Russell, he just keeps on climbing higher and higher in my estimation. This was something I've been hoping he'd suggest to Alan for the past few years. Now, all Russell has left to do to hit the top spot spot on my list (well, perhaps the second-highest spot) is to follow up with a suggestion that Alan write the soundtrack for the next film and then persuade the Dearest Sweet-Faced Troubadour Rock Star Guitar God back out onto the road with his own The Ordinary Fear Of God. Oh yes, another Alan Doyle-produced TOFOG CD full of more excellent Crowe/Doyle co-writes would be lovely. That's not such a tall order, now is it? Not for Russell Crowe, whose grasp is ever commensurate with his reach. As is Alan's.
I have to go get packed up for the trek to Chicago, but a few quick words about last night's show first. Yes, I was totally wrapped up in The Wonderful, with foolish grin as proof, but I did still notice a thing or two about this show, chief among them being how cute the folks in the two rows ahead of me (most of them season subscribers, I'm guessing) were. This was one of the older GBS-show audiences, and there is something absolutely adorable about watching Alan charm and beguile the senior set up out of their seats for a dance or two. The couple directly in front of me was having a blast - missus was very reluctant to leave, lingering to catch the last encore - and one darling old gent up in the left-hand box was out-dancing those half his age.
I haven't been in that audience demographic for a GBS show in quite some time, and I loved watching the Wooing and the Winning of the Audience even more than usual. Nobody does it better, even to the point of managing to pull off the Pizza Porn routine ("Excuse me, ladies, but somebody's going to have pay for this pizza"), to laughter all around from those one might not have expected to find it quite so funny. Now that is the power of irresistible charm.
I've got a few more videos to upload from this show (including an unusual General Taylor with a Ladybug Rescue intro), but those are going to have to wait till later. Since HOB will most likely keep to their customary camera ban, I can finish up the Iowa videos next entry. I'll try to get backlogged comments up and responded to as well. Until then, I'll be the one with the foolishly delighted grin on my face and the You are so wonderfullook in my eyes, bedazzled by and admiring the sky-high trajectory of that beautiful arrow in flight.
Educated in a small town Taught the fear of Jesus in a small town Used to daydream in that small town Another boring romantic that's me - John Mellencamp
Not sure how long it will last, but the absolutely gorgeous beard is back for a long-awaited and much-appreciated encore appearance.
And the (lack of) lighting makes it a bit hard to tell, but the Mohawk has bid a fond farewell...for now.
One of the hardest things to fix in a photo is a fundamental lack of light, but sometimes what's in the photo is so sweet anbd dear to you that you try your best to do just that.
I'm not going to go into a lot of detail about tonight's (last night's, if you're picky about that sort of thing) Great Big Sea show at the Bluebird Nightclub in Bloomington, Indiana. Because the lights were so low, photography without flash was tricky at best, so I went instead with a whole bunch of video (and even those are pretty darn dark, apparently too dark to "qualify" for YouTube's view-in-high-quality option, more's the pity); my hotel has a great connection and I got all of those videos up on YouTube - for the most part, the videos tell the story as well or better than I could.
But one part of the story the videos don't tell is about the crowd: It was quite a small crowd - maybe a hundred or so, generously estimated - not so bad for a first-time-ever show in this town. Even better in that nearly everyone I talked to was seeing GBS for the very first or at most the second time; I really do love shows filled with the wide-eyed wonder and unpractised appreciation such folks usually bring with them - it's an undemanding innocence that rarely lasts for long with most, which means it should be savoured to its fullest whenever possible. This small-but-grateful crowd made it clear enough that they loved the show they were given, and by the end of the evening, several among them were already beginning to wonder about the availability of tickets to this weekend's Chicago shows.
It took me most of Tuesday to make the somewhat circuitous trek from St. John's to Bloomington (three planes and a shuttle bus), an interesting journey to what seems to be a nice little town. I shared my hotel with the charmingly genteel ladies in town for the Quilting Convention and had a long heart-to-heart conversation with a young man in the deli about the wisdom (and lack thereof) of trying to make a decent living as a writer. I talked basketball with the kids at the bus stop (did not think there was much chance of getting a good hockey-trade conversation going with them); at the bookstore, the chat was politics and Kurt Cobain (customary hazard of mentioning Seattle).
The best conversation of the day, though, the one that left me with the most to think about, was with a (temporarily) homeless drummer who hails from his own nice little town, joined briefly by a sweet-faced and splendidly shaggy fellow from yet another nice little town. I enjoyed Bloomington, though I am very sorry that I let myself get distracted by good conversation and splendid shagginess and did not take the photos of the Bluebird I'd promised to the person who used to live here but could not make it back for this show. Somehow, I doubt she'll be all that surprised, given the source of the distraction. It is truly a gorgeous beard.
The long day of travel to Bloomington left me plenty of time for thinking. I've had the number sixteen on my mind recently, as in sixteen years, call it a birthday or an anniversary. That got me to recalling something my Dad said to me on the occasion of my own sixteenth birthday, a bit of (mildly boozy) advice he said he was going to give me because it was something he himself had not done and he hoped I might do otherwise: He told me never to stay in one place so long that having to leave it would feel like ripping out my roots and never to give so much love and loyalty to anyone or anything that it would put my heart in the hands of another. I have officially and irrevocably failed to follow my Dad's advice, but I have done a excellent job at following his example.
And that does as good a job at summing up my own response to Bloomington as time and ability allow. I've got just enough of that time left to put up the videos and then it is back onto the shuttle again and off to Cedar Falls. Which I suspect will be yet another nice little town.
(ETA: I very nearly forgot to say this...I was pleasantly surprised by Scythian's short opening set. Still a bit more cheese than is to my personal taste - though it did seem very much to the taste of most of those present - but some very impressive playing, especially the gypsy/klezmer-influenced tunes and the jazzy drums. Bloomington is apparently a long way from Shamrockfest.)
This picture (from the opening moments of Love Me Tonight, beginning of the second GBS Mainstage Show in the Stardust Theatre) might be the very best one I have at showing Alan as be was on the Ships & Dip V cruise - confident and cocky, bawdy and beautiful, sweet and self-assured and sexy, sexy, sexy. Gorgeous, absolutely and utterly so, from head to toe - with a deliciously long linger in the middle. And filled with nearly as much delight as he causes. How perfect it would be if he were to feel exactly like this every single blessed day. And night.
A few years ago on a GBS fan site, someone posted a sketch they'd done of Alan. While the sketch was clearly recognisable as an attempt to draw Alan, not much about it was quite right...eyebrows a bit too thin, nose somewhat too wide, eyes slightly too close together, hair just a little too long. GBS fan sites being what GBS fan sites are, the sketch was soundly praised for being an excellent likeness of its intended subject.
I saved the sketch on my hard drive, not because it looked all that much like Alan but because of how much more it did not. There was something about all the ways in which that sketch consistently missed the mark in depicting the man as Reality has made him that caused me to see it as a kind of visual representation of all the ways in which the same man has so consistently been inaccurately described in words and dimly seen in perceptions; it was like a would-be artist's rendering of all those bumbling goofball, harmless teddy bear, perpetually cheerful, half-witted Newfie assessments. There was something about that essentially flawed sketch that made me see all of what is right about the man in each and every wrong detail in the drawing, assurance of what is true increasing with each realisation of what was not. That too seemed a most fitting tangible metaphor for my own response to those inaccurate descriptions and dim perceptions.
A few days ago, we were sitting in the Crown & Moose Pub in Corner Brook's Greenwood Hotel, site of the late-night ECMA gigs. It wasn't quite time for the music to begin; we were situated at our strategically chosen table (up in a raised area that afforded a great view of both the stage and the crowd), savouring our pints and our dessert - a collection of chocolate kisses and peanut butter balls. Kisses and balls and Guinness, balls and kisses and Guinness...a lovely dessert whenever and wherever one is so fortunate as to take pleasure in it.
I was thoughtfully watching the goings-on in the crowd, the schmoozing and the boozing, the maneuvering and the machinations, the eagerness and the smugness in the midst of the crass obliviousness. The loud hope and the quiet desperation. Kisses and balls and the memory of Steve Page's unblinking gaze and the distant look in Ed Robertson's eyes; balls and kisses and the image of Alan, lingering at stage edge at the end of the show, heart's dearest desire and deepest need achingly apparent on the sweetest face of all.
Bruce Guthro worked his way through the crowded room to a nearby table and sat down next to Ron Hynes, the two of them exchanging a genuine, and a genuinely touching, hug. Bruce smiled and offered to take care of Ron's drink for him. I thought about the sound of rolling thunder and a Ferryland boy who believed a cape could make him fly. I thought about a revelatory Songwriters' Circle and Tuborg and polska in a Danish tent and what I'd recently been told about how Bruce now travels with bodyguards while on his Runrig gig in Europe, conducting autograph signings from behind tables set up as protective barriers.
Several faux-delegate morons kept taking flash pictures of Ron while he sat there trying to talk to Bruce, and soon thereafter an inebriated she-moose (who had very nearly passed out on Christina in the bathroom a few minutes earlier) lurched over and began pawing at him, clambering onto his lap and wrapping her stringy hair around his neck. Her companions at the faux-delegate table shrieked and shouted and flashed away, taking incessant photos of those the evening was Really, Truly All About...themselves. Kisses and balls and stark perspective; balls and kisses and the sharp cutting edge of reality.
Ron soon took his leave, not surprisingly given the persistent antics of the she-moose and her like-minded companions. Watching him work his way back through the cling and the clamour, my eye was caught and held by a fellow swimming stubbornly against the current, moving with purpose into the room, his long hair swaying with each determined footfall. Familiar and yet not, near enough to the Dear to evoke the accustomed rush of affection from heart even while brain was registering all that was not quite right: eyebrows a bit too thin, nose somewhat too wide, eyes slightly too close together...
But still close enough to capture and keep attention as he made his deliberate way into the fray, heading directly to an adjacent table occupied by a self-satisfied-looking fellow wearing his yellow International Delegate ECMA pass around his neck like an entitlement. The fellow who was not quite Alan started up a conversation with the entitled one, clearly ill at ease, even more clearly resolved to forge ahead regardless, talking quickly and earnestly, laughing just a bit too loudly, alternating back and forth bewtween stuffing his hands in his coat pockets and making expansive gestures. Every now and again, he impatiently pushed a wayward strand of hair back behind his ears with a gesture so familiar it caused an involuntary pang of recognition.
Yellow Delegate Pass treated him like what he was...someone working hard to earn the crumb of a moment's attention. Not Quite Alan was intense and focused and the time allotted to complete his task seemed to be running perilously short - he never took off his coat, which made me wonder if perhaps he was running late on his way to a paycheck-providing job or was overdue getting home to an impatiently expectant family.
Not Quite Alan fought the good fight to keep Yellow Delegate Pass's attention for as long as time and chance and forbearance allowed, and when he was inevitably shrugged off he moved quickly to another table and paid his hasty dues to the local luminaries seated there. Then he was off with a quick and nimble pirouette, fists crammed back into coat pockets, shoulders slightly hunched, hair dancing to the beat of his footsteps, his hurried stride cutting a wide swath through the soddenly yielding throng. I watched his back all the way out the door. The room suddenly felt emptier without him in it.
The music was very good that night in the Crown & Moose. Shanneyganock surprised me with an excellent set of tunes, played and sung with precision and poise like the class act they are apparently becoming. Duane Andrews was his usual spectacular self, and Alan Ricketts turned in a winsomely appealing traditional performance. There was even an impulsively impromptu - and somewhat glassy-eyed - rendition of Northwest Passage by Bruce, who was introduced in classically barbed Newfoundland fashion as "The International Star".
The self-absorbed idiots at the table down by the stage continued to act as if they were the right and proper subjects of the evening's spotlight, as is true of all such self-absorbed idiots at each and every show. The self-promotion and the self-satisfaction kept right on keeping on at the peripheral tables, undeterred by such negligible distractions as excellent performances or shrieking fools.
I was lost in thoughts of snowed-in ECMA delegates, hastily scheduled showcases and record contracts. Countless miles, endless nights, times hard and easy, good and bad; innumerable self-absorbed idiots and limitless self-satisfied flunkies. Laughter both real and forced, tears both bitter and sweet, friendships both shattered and enduring. Loud hopes and quiet desperation, earnest determination and relentless resolve. Victory and defeat, gain and loss, negotiation and sacrifice, costly compromise and total capitulation.
Sixteen at its sweetest, whose rightful place is in that spotlight, and what each and every show is really about. Heart's dearest desire and deepest need achingly apparent on a face seen clearly for what it truly reveals, and loved for the same. Kisses and balls and a bold walk on the moon; balls and kisses and the moment you just can't live without.
Here and Now and having all of this. Passionate kisses and courageous balls.
I'll close this out with a few more pictures from that second Mainstage Show, all I've had time to edit so far, probably all I'll get done till sometime after the Junos. Unless I don't nake it out on my flight tomorrow morning, that is. If the weather stays as shitty as it presently is in New York, the risk I took on the once-a-day Continental flight through Newark might wind up giving me plenty of time for photoediting.
Maybe not the most technically brilliant photo (tough light), but there is something about this one that really tugs at the heart.
Sorry no Bob photos from this show so far....Bob semed a bit under the weather on this night - perhaps because of the rough seas (worst night for that of the cruise - we were really pitching and rolling during the show...at one point I was worried Sean was going to fall right off the edge of the stage during General Taylor) or maybe some other reason - and he looked miserable enough to make me not want to bother him in even the slightest way.
Now I am off for a last-visit-this-time-around jaunt to the pub for a pint and some erotic fish & chips, followed by another pint and my dessert of (second) choice. Then back to start up with what might be completely beside-the-point packing for what may or may not be the flight out tomorrow morning. What odds...one way or another, there will be shows soon and the spotlight will be shining brightly right where it belongs. As long as the sweet-faced fellow keeps on having all of this, and as long as he keeps feeling moved to strut his gorgeous stuff (especially that beautiful belly), I will keep right on taking my pleasure in the moment. As well as in the kisses and the balls.
All download links here take you to the Megaupload file-sharing site, which has its own set of glitches, but it's the best option I can find right now. Megaupload works better (not surprisingly) if you have a Premium Account, but you can still get the downloads for free, though it might take a few attempts. If you get a "File Temporarily Unavailable" message after clicking a link, try again later. If you get another error message or have any other troubles, please let me know. You can contact me by posting a comment on the most recent blog entry. You don't have to give an email address unless you choose to.
YouTube Videos
Selected Videos From This Blog On YouTube This is still in process - a slow process because YouTube sometimes has a hard time swallowing big video files. Nothing is up for viewing on YouTube that is not also here for downloading, and the videos that turn out sideways on YouTube (there seems to be no accommodation for flipping videos made vertically, and I am not about to switch to an all-horizontal format...a lovely body really should be seen in all of its glory, and vertical works way better for all closeup videos) will all be right-side-up here when downloaded. No way will all of the videos here ever be up on YouTube - that is simply too much work - but over time I will go back and add selected older video files in addition to putting up newer files. For those who have the software to download from YouTube, that's fine with me, even though the quality is better downloading from Megaupload. As always, let me know here (or there) about any problems.
Some links are for video files, some for audio fiiles. Many of the older files play in Real Player format, others in Quicktime or Windows Media audio/video & a few are FLV files. Sketchy quality on some of the oldest files, but still priceless to those of us who love GBS. Many thanks to Mike & others. More of these to come eventually - perhaps a few more for each GBS birthday.
