A Twitter snippet from Alan of recording work on his upcoming Solo Album.The song is "Testify," another Alan Doyle/Russell Crowe co-write, originally appearing Russell's band's (The Ordinary Fear Of God') 2005 My Hand My Heart album, produced by Alan.
Deadly. Sexy. Deadly Sexy. Hallelujah and Amen.
Testifying complete. for now. In need of a third breath, as well. And when we get to hear Alan's vocal with Colin James's playing, CPR may very well be required.
More testifying to come...more breath-catching too.
No longer "Tomorrow, Tomorrow," no longer "You're only a day away"...it's time to change that lyric to "Today, Today".
Recording the GBS Debut Album. Riding the ferry to Halifax and the Lower Deck. Hosting the Juno Songwriters' Circle. Composing the score for Triffie. Walking onto the Robin Hood set the first time.
Starting your (1st) Solo Album Mix. Way to go, Alan. This is going to be - you are going to be - amazing. Again.
I love you, Today.
What I find the hardest is writing songs. I think people think of it as an inspiration that just comes over you, and you magically transform stuff. I'm only now learning how much skill there is required to become a good songwriter and I think it will take me another ten years to get to be good at it and to get to be proficient at it.- Alan Doyle, 'The Way You Wanted Me' intro, CBC Songwriters' Circle, March 2001 (see below)
More recording tonight. The Duke Film commitments kept me from making my self imposed Friday deadline, but mixing starts Wednesday. Jaysus - Alan Doyle, Twitter, November 24th, 2011
I suppose there are some people in this world who don't feel deeply pleased, even thrilled, when it turns out that they were right about another person, right from the very first moment they encountered that person, because of how often that happens for them. I'm not one of those people; for me, it doesn't happen all that often.
It did happen just about ten years ago, when I was stopped in my tracks by an awesome Songwriter who totally charmed and utterly endeared himself to me. From that first moment, I thought the music was wonderfully true; I thought the man was truly wonderful.
In just a few more months, I'm finally going to be able to buy the album filled with great Alan Doyle songs - the first in what I dearly hope will be a continuing series of albums filled with great Alan Doyle songs - that I thought I could easily run out and buy back in 2001, as soon as that Songwriters' Circle broadcast ended. I sure wasn't right about that. And it was Alan who was right about the ten-year wait, however unnecessary such a lengthy wait might have been.
But I was right about the Music and I was right about the Man. I still am.
From the first Hello...
As lovely as it quite likely is to be right often, I am glad and grateful - deeply pleased, as well as thrilled - to be right when it matters the most.
Let the mixing begin. Tomorrow, that is - after the very long wait, Tomorrow is finally coming. Tomorrow is finally here.
Me and legendary rock mixer Mike Fraser manning the 60+ channel Neve Desk at the Warehouse in Van. Friggin cool. - Alan Doyle, Twitter
Holy shite. That's Mike Fraser of "I've mixed/engineered/produced music by AC/DC, Elvis Costello, Metallica, Motley Crue, K'naan, Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Rush, Norah Jones, Van Halen, Joe Satriani, Theory Of A Deadman, Guns 'N' Roses and Bryan Adams" fame. Friggin' cool indeed to see him working on Alan's upcoming first solo album. And that's certainly a One Of The (Few) Times Size Matters pile of channels, if ever there were one. Friggin' cool, again.
But what I like best is the I'm Serious About This expression Alan's got on his face. I believe that when Alan sets his mind and heart and will that firmly, he can accomplish anything and everything he desires. Seeing that look on his face is absolutely and utterly friggin' cool.
Mike Fraser, Don Ellis, Gordie Sampson, Hawksley Workman, Jim Cuddy, Russell Crowe, Ron Hynes, Colin James...Mike Post. All there for Alan Doyle, who after waiting so very long is finally making his own music. It doesn't get much friggin' cooler than that.
Jim Cuddy, flanked by his band members Anne Lindsay and Colin Cripps.
Jim Cuddy and his band put on an excellent show at the Arts & Culture Centre in St. John's a week or so ago, another stop on the tour to promote Jim's most recent solo album, Skyscraper Soul. The performance dynamic might not have been what I choose first - I'm all about passion and fire, need and desire...and Jim Cuddy is the personification of the Tall Cool Drink of Water - but that doesn't mean I can't recognise and don't appreciate a Master at his work, especially a Master with strong songs - Jim's new album would be well worth its price even if the only two songs on it were With You and Ready To Fall - who's backed up by a great band (Anne Lindsay is particularly awesome).
And if time and time again my mind happened to wander during the show, such wanderings cast no disparaging reflection on the quality of the performance. It's simply that for years now, in stubborn arguments with more solo-endeavour-resistant Great Big Sea fans than I could possibly count, I have been using Jim Cuddy as my shining example of an artist who has found a way to strike a healthy and creative balance between the roles of Band Member and Solo Artist.
An admirably successful balance as well, one that's seen him rewarded with Juno Awards in both roles. And now with Alan so tantalisingly close to wrapping up his own first solo effort (not to mention Sean's being already at work on his third), it's hardly surprising that while watching Jim up there on the A&CC stage performing one impressive song after another, I'd be thinking about Alan taking his own turn on that stage, perhaps backed up by the great band that he's put together for himself (so many cool potential choices for a live band worthy of how amazing these recorded tunes are going to sound), for sure performing his own beautiful songs. With passion and fire, need and desire.
I never heard Blue Rodeo much when I lived in California, and only a bit more when I moved up to Seattle (of course, I heard absolutely nothing about Great Big Sea until I stumbled across Alan's appearance on CBC). Stray songs that I'd come across here and there and admired - Lost Together, What Are We Doing Here, Bad Timing, Falling Down Blue - but only half-realised came from the same band...that was the extent of my Blue Rodeo awareness.
It wasn't until after I began seeking out Canadian music, especially after I began travelling across Canada, that I became familiar with Blue Rodeo's music and music-makers - first their work together, then their solo efforts. Because of the large number of crossover fans between BR and GBS, I also wound up meeting quite a few Blue Rodeo fans.
Of course no band/fan group is perfect, but I liked what I was finding in the Blue Rodeo world, in particular the apparent ease with which the artists moved back and forth between their band-member and their solo-artist identities, the music of each and all made stronger and better and more sure by that movement. I was impressed by the apparent acceptance among their fans of this movement and these multiple identities.
It all seemed so right; it seemed like the way things ought to be, the best way for them to be. So many times I have wondered why it couldn't be, have wished that it somehow could be, the same way for the band I like best. For the man whose music I love most.
It's been a long time coming, but I know a change is gonna come. It's already here: Alan is flying solo.
My plan had been to continue on the prior blog, adding in the next part of what I wanted to say about The Best. I especially wanted to keep that beautiful Canada Games photo of Alan - a photo in which his Best shines through with breath-taking clarity - in the most promiment position, right where he belongs.
But after a serendipitous wander into The Duke Tuesday evening, after spending a few hours watching Alan working with such endearing diligence to direct and record good friends and local performers ENNIS (along with a few of sisters Maureen and Karen Ennis's own talented friends) as they sang "Ladies Lounge Of The Duke," yet another catchy tune Alan has co-written with Russell Crowe, while a camera crew filmed it all for Alan's own Solo Album Project, and after seeing, and feeling, everything I wrote about last time taking place right then and there...there was no option other than putting this up on top. Right where he belongs.
Alan In Charge.
This reminded me of the Mutiny On The Dawn recording session on Ships & Dip; it got most of the folks in The Duke clapping along too.
Motivating (and charming) his players: "It's gonna be great!"
It was a perfect night - a brilliantly illuminating night - for a clear, true glimpse of the Best of the Petty Harbour Boy. I am always grateful whenever I get to see that Boy, always wish he'd linger a bit longer, always miss him when he moves along; I am always glad when he returns. I see the Boy whenever I see Alan, wherever I see Alan - from the first time I saw him, each and every time thereaafter. Whoever else he's being, whatever else he's doing, I see the Boy at the heart of the Man. As the heart of the Man, the good heart of a very dear Man.
I think, I hope, that the challenge and responsibility and privilege of this Solo Album is good for the Boy, that it gives him the freedom be anything and everything he chooses to be, the freedom to be real and sincere and true to himself, the freedom to be his Best. I believe in that Boy, believe the best of him and believe in the best from him. I believe without a doubt that his Best is something Wonderful.
It's gonna be great. Yes, it will be. Yes, you will be. Yes, you are.
I still haven't gotten around to the specifics of what I was thinking about during Jim Cuddy's show at the Arts & Culture Centre, have I? I always seem to remember this in the wee hours of the morning when it's way past time for bed. If I don't wander into any more serendipitously illuminationg Magnificent Distractions, I'll try to get that written soon.
Until then, because he belongs right here too, the Best of the Man, the Best of the Boy:
As Wonderful as this has been, the Best is still yet to come. Soon, very soon.
Canada Games, Halifax, February 2011
Up early. I vow to finish my solo CD by Happy Hour Friday, (with the exception of two days in LA in December). - Alan Doyle, Twitter, November 21st
Such exciting words to read this morning on Twitter - and if those two day in LA mean what I hope they mean, more work with Mike Post, that makes them even better - and such excellent cause for a Grand Celebration come Friday. Every single thing Alan's has been so kind and so generous to share thus far from his upcoming (nearly finished!) first solo album has sounded absolutely amazing. Worth the wait, and worthy of the Man who's made it happen.
It sounds Perfect. It sounds like Alan.
I've got a free night for writing tonight, so the rest is for later. Soon for that too.
I get plenty of opportunities for conversations with taxi drivers, and I make the most of each of those opportunities - which means I do my best to get them talking and then I sit back and listen to what they have to say. Cabbies lead an interesting life, one that gives them a unique perspective on their fellow man (and woman), and often where they themselves have travelled from is as fascinating as is the view of where they're travelling now.
It was a rainy, windy Toronto evening, the peak of rush hour, traffic sure to be at its snarled and tangled worst. I'd planned to take the Aiporter Bus from Pearson to my downtown hotel to save a chunk of cash, but I was exhausted and discouraged, aching and bruised and in no frame of mind for patience with the shuttle's lumbering pace along its circuitous route.
I walked out of the Terminal door and into the first cab in line at the taxi stand. I said hello to Joe the Cabbie, made a few comments to get him talking, and then settled back in the seat, ready for whatever momentary distraction his words could give me.
Joe returned my greeting with a boyish smile and a willingness to talk that easily matched my desire to listen, all along the slow drive into the Big Smoke. When we'd first gotten underway, I'd mentioned having recently been in St. John's, which put Joe onto the topic of the local cabbie who was running on the NDP slate for a seat in the House (he's since been elected and is a cabbie no more, at least not for the next 4 years). With a twinkle in his eye, Joe glanced back over his shoulder at me and said that as good of a story as Cabbie-to-MHA surely was, he had an even better story, his own story. I smiled back at him and told him I'd love to hear it.
It was a good story. Before Joe took his position behind the steering wheel of his taxi, he had a high-pressure, higher-reward ("Mid-six-figure annual income, in an off year") career in corporate sales of industrial equipment. In a company where the perpetual mantra was "Do Your Best - Be Your Best" Joe was a shining star, ever on the ascendant. But as much as he could take pride in doing his best, the more he did, the better he did, the less he felt like he was being his best.
And so Joe walked away from his high-flying corporate job and became a cabbie, for now at least. He told me he took the job because he wanted to start seeing people as people again, that it made him feel good about himself when he saw the good in others. It made him feel like he'd taken one more step toward not just doing his best but actually being his best too, toward being the best person he was able to be.
"Sometimes I wonder how wise a goal that is," I replied, quietly, weariness and doubt winning a transitory victory in the darkness of the cab's back seat as we crept along the Gardiner Expressway in a relentless downpour. Joe readily agreed that striving to be your best, no matter what path that endeavour might lead you down, was often a difficult, thankless, even a painful effort, one that can at times leave you vulnerable and exposed and terribly disappointed. Exhausted and discouraged, aching and bruised. He went on to agree that it was frequently so much easier, so much simpler, so much safer, to just give in and choose to be less than we could have been.
But it was still worth it, he insisted, worth all the hard work and the inevitable failures and the having to start over again. Which is why he was resolved to keep reaching out for and holding onto whatever and whoever could bring out the best of himself. If he was going to give in to anything, Joe said with conviction, it was going to be to his Best. Because that's the man he most wanted to be.
Joe made an impression on me. It's been several months since that cab ride, and I keep thinking about our conversation. About the Truth of our conversation.
I believe - and I think many share this belief - that we all have people and places and circumstances in our lives that can bring out the worst in us, with unfortunate reliability. I know I sure do. And because the Coinage of Life is always and forever double-sided, that means each of us has that which and those who, for reasons both clear and obscure, inspire us, persuade us, cajole us, seduce us, even compel us to be more - to give more, believe more, love more, hope more, forgive more, try more, accept more, create more, share more, and achieve more - than we ever imagined we could be...at times, more than we ever imagined we wanted to be. To be our Best in response - at times a response eager and willing, at times a response stumbling and reluctant - to the Best we see before us.
It's up to us to decide whom we embrace and to what we hold fast. It's up to us to choose which direction we run - toward or away, how many steps this way and then how many steps back again. An act of Surrender, whichever the destination, whatever the outcome.
I'm with Joe on this one: Surrender belongs to The Best.
Why I like Gold Medal Plates - I come for the Smile.
I can't speak for the nationwide Gold Medal Plates experience as a whole, since I only know firsthand how Vancouver and St. John's went - though I have heard good things about Edmonton, from a very reliable source. And I'm certainly no card-carryng Foodie; I do cook - cook pretty darn well, if I do say so myself - but I can't imagine every having even come up with the notion of making Goat Brain Mousse. I'm still throughly bemused by the simple fact that I have now tasted Goat Brain Mousse, even enjoyed it (no comment about the pickled goat tongue). I'm even less knowledgeable about fine wines.
For those who want an expert's opinion on the winning chefs and vintners at Thursday night's Gold Medal Plates event at the St. John's Convention Centre, I'll pass along the link to Head Judge James Chatto's informed description of the event, with the added notes that personally I adored Adam Gollop's (The Cellar) smoked duck and Roary MacPherson's (Oppidan) caribou loin. Oh yes, and Mark McCrowe's (Aqua) homemade chorizo. At events like these, I always wish I could pick and choose and put my own plate together.
Like all non-experts in nearly every field of endeavour (writing most assuredly included), I do know what I like, as well as what I do not like; there was a whole lot I did not like in Vancouver - and I am anything but a picky eater - and it was just the opposite in St. John's, where nearly everything was enjoyable and enjoyed, goat tongue notwithstanding. In my inexpert opinion, I thought the St. John's Gold Medal Plates beat the pants off of Vancouver's version when it came to food, to organisation, and also to crowd enthusiasm and sophistication (I was quite surprised by how foolishly and sloppily drunk many of those in attendance at Vancouver became). I think Vancouver's wines might edged out St. John's offerings, but, again, I am no expert. Or maybe they really were that much better and that accounts for how shitfaced so many people got in Vancouver.
Alright, enough about the food. After all, I don't go to Gold Medal Plates, on either side of the continent, for the food. Certainly not for the wine, either. I do enjoy lending a little support to the Canadian Olympic and Paralympic Teams (primary point and purpose of GMP), even if I'm not willing to spend $10,000 or so on one of the admittedly tres cool live-auction trips offered there. It would indeed be absolutely wonderful to see Alan and Ron MacLean square off againt each other in ball hockey somewhere in the middle of the beautiful Adriatic, and maybe someday I will see it, even if not today. But that too is not why I buy my GMP tickets.
For me, it is all about the Smile, Alan's Smile. First there's the Music, and then comes the Smile.
For the first two songs of the "London Calling"-themed Gold Medal Plates musical entertainment part of the show - that theme looking ahead to the 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games in London - Alan and Jim Cuddy, along with Jim Cuddy Band members Anne Lindsay and Colin Cripps - began with the Best Ever of all the Brit Bands: The Beatles.
I still say that if Alan had been a Beatle, he would have written this song.
From the Beatles to the Next Biggest of the Brits - a lively rendition of a classic Rolling Stones tune, highlighted by dandy solos from Anne and Colin. And Alan gets his own verse too.
Alan and Jim next took turns, each doing one of his own songs. The video for Alan's Ordinary Day is very bouncy, largely as a result of what Jim would later note as "Alan Doyle's amazing power over Newfoundland audiences". When Alan says "Get Up!" - everyone obeys him, with alacrity. As it should be. But it means the small woman trying to video now needs to stand on tiptoe, holding the (wobbly) camera up as high as her arms can reach.
One of the sweetest moments in this video comes midway through, before everybody stands up. The woman in silhouette who can be seen dancing delightedly with the fellow in the wheelchair is none other than Olympic Gold Medal Hockey Goalie Sami Jo Small, with her husband, Paralympic Gold Medal Ice Sledge Hockey Player Billy Bridges. While they were dancing, Jim Cuddy watched with a smile of his own.
I've thought rather highly of Sami Jo - especially highly of her excellent taste in dear boys - ever since seeing her on the ice at a Juno Cup back in 2006, during which it was impossible to tell between her and Alan just which of them was the most thrilled to be on the ice with the other.
One of the sweetest, cutest, most endearing (and most revealing) things I have ever seen the Petty Harbour Boy do was when he chivalrously and diligently laboured to smooth Sami Jo's ice for her.
During this Gold Medal Plates gig, Alan claimed at one point that he was planning to capture a place on the 2012 Olympic Team as a sprinter. In her subsequent remarks, Canadian Gold Medal Speed Skater Catriona Le May Doan mentioned that Sami Jo Small would love Alan's making the team because it would mean she'd get to see Alan in spandex. Knowing chuckles were heard around the room, and each one of those chuckles raised my opinion of Sami Jo Small even higher. And I sure would like to see that too.
There's the sweetest face of them all. Totally irresistible, now and always. In spandex and out.
Jim's choice of his own song was Blue Rodeo's Try, which was absolutely beautiful as performed by the four of them. Now my favourite version of this song.
After a final round of live-auctioneering of yet more amazing (and big-ticket) athlete- and musician-accompanied trips around the world, the three winning Chefs of the evening were named and came up to receive their Gold (Mike Barsky - Bacalao), Silver (Chris Chafe - Magnum and Steins), and Bronze (Tony Velinov, Bistro Sofia) medals and take their places on the Winners' Podium. Time for singing an (admirably bilingual) National Anthem.
And then time to wrap things up, to call everyone onto the stage - including Seamus O'Regan, MC for this night's event, legendary NHL Coach Scotty Bowman, and a throughly impressive group of Canadian Olympic Champions (including Sami Jo Small, Billy Bridges, Catriona Le May Doan, Tania Vicent, and Diedre Dionne) - for a raucous rendition of a Bob Dylan classic.
It was a successful night for Gold Medal Plates at the St. John's Convention Centre. The food was tasty and creative, the drinks were excellent (especially that rye/pear/nutmeg concotion being served from the Ice Bar at the opening reception), and the crowd was enthusiastic and, for the most part, good-natured. A goodly sized pile of money was raised in support of the Canadian Olympic and Paralympic athletes, and quite a few folks will soon be heading off on their own excellent travel adventures.
And, yes, sure there were After Parties (VIP downstairs, non-VIP upstairs), there was more music, there was more drink, there was even more food (not sure how anyone still had room for that, but they clearly did). But none of it - Before, During, or After - came close to being as brilliant or as sweet or as priceless to me as was that smile on Alan's face, the smile that said, "Hey, look at me! I'm up here on stage with Jim Cuddy and all these other cool folks here at Home and I am having myself a Grand Time!" That's what I went to Gold Medal Plates for, in Vancouver and in St. John's - for that smile of his. Lucky me that I don't have to submit a live-auction winning bid just to see it.
Now there's an idea...a live auction to see Alan in the spandex. Look out, Sami Jo, you're going to be outbid for that one. Unless perhaps we just go in on it together.
Speaking again of Vancouver's Gold Medal Plates event,here are the remaining videos from that night, with thanks to Lisa for taking them.
A different sort of Honky Tonk Women, this time with Barney Bentall and a few local musicians whose names I never caught.
I liked how the St. John's crowd responded to Alan's Ordinary Day best of the two events.
But I have to hand it to Vancouver for some darn good (if monolingual) anthem-singing.
I still think Leo's ought to take part in next year's St. John's Gold Medal Plates. Paired with pints from the Duke, dessert brought in from MooMoo's. Amd then maybe Alan and Ron could play ball hockey on the wharf in Petty Harbour, losers to be dunked afterward. Goalies in spandex. Well, one of them in spandex, for sure. He won't be the only one smiling.
That wraps up Gold Medal Plates. I am still wrestling with writing about The Best. I got it half-written in a story version, then realised - while at the Gold Medal Plates event, actually - that I was fictionalising it to maintain my own plausible deniablitiy, so I could get away with not feeling accountable for and committed to living up to what I was putting into words. Shag plausible deniability...pun intended. It will come soon, and it will be True. And I will do as I say.
All videos from the For The Fallen show are up here now, along with my "Like Alan For Chocolate" comparison.
Alan Doyle & The Cantus Vocum Chamber Choir
Spend much time in Newfoundland, or go to a pile of Great Big Sea shows, and sooner or later - sooner, with good fortune - you will run into folks who knew Alan growing up, kind (and chatty) folks who will gladly tell you all about the Petty Harbour Boy's youthful exploits. Especially when many of those folks already know you as a person who holds Their Boy in high regard and with much affection.
I've heard many tales about Alan's church choir days, and every blessed one of them has made me wish I could have been there to see him then, even just a fleeting glimpse of him. Last night's For The Fallen Remembrance Day concert put on by the Cantus Vocum Chamber Choir, with very special guest Alan Doyle, gave so much more than that fleeting glimpse - it gave a clear view, a clear and sweet and true view, not only of the Boy, not only of the Altar Boy and the Rock Star, but also of the Man he's become. Not the Man he might have been if not for being that Rock Star, but the Man he is, the Man he would have been no matter what path he'd chosen. The Man he always will be.
An exceptionally well-dressed Man, at least on this night, boldly gorgeous and suavely dashing in his stylish suit, that tantalisingly sexy little triangle of white beneath his vest a maddeningly beautiful distraction in the eye of the beholder. A dandy shine on those shoes too. His performance - two solo songs, a song with the chamber choir's tenors and basses, and a solo spot with the full choir's backing - was spot-on, thoroughly impressive and utterly charming.
I saw Alan the moment we walked into the Sanctuary, and he had that look, that Holy Frig, I'm Nervous! look, on his face. I've seen that look before, on various occasions. It is such a sweet face, a face that always makes me want to reassure him that of course he will be wonderful, to remind him that he is always wonderful, no matter what the challenge. This occasion worked out exactly the same as have all the others, as will all the others...then and now and yet to come, he was, he will be, wonderful.
Given the solemnity of the Day being honoured with such talent and skill, I probably shouldn't have been anywhere near as delighted and thrilled as I was, but it wasn't as if I had any choice at all in the response. The Petty Harbour Boy was perfect, in sight and in sound. As he always will be.
It was a greatl night at The Kirk, great too to see Christina's church absolutely packed, sold out to the doors, at Fire Code limit. The videos are loading very slowly and I've already taken too long to put this up, so for now I'll share the two that have uploaded - We Rise Again, Alan's solo spot with the full chamber choir backing him, and Tell My Father, where he joins Cantus Vocum's Tenors and Basses - and add in his solo performances of Mother's Cross, co-written with Russell Crowe, and Paul Hyde's beautiful Forever Light - when they too are up, along with a few more screen caps, most likely some time after tonight's hockey game.
Alan's final number with Cantus Vocum, Leon Dubinsky's We Rise Again, was the show-closer. Show-stopper as well. All hands did a spectacular job - I especially enjoyed it when Alan looked over at his Director...he's exceedingly cute when he's being directed, not something I often see.Alan's vocal performance - his power and phrasing and control - is so impressive here that it makes me think a choral arrangement might sound splendid on any one of his upcoming solo albums.
Taking a backing choir on his solo-album tour would be frigging cool too.
Tell My Father, from The Civil War, was quietly moving on this Remembrance Day, even more so as performed by Cantus Vocum's Tenors and Basses. Alan's own tenor part shines through.
The last video will indeed have to wait until after the hockey game, or probably more likely tomorrow, but this heartfelt Mother's Cross - with an intro in which Alan describes the origin of the song (and has some fun at the expense of a fellow who neglected to turn off his cell phone as instructed) - is now ready to add in.
Another splendid performance by Alan, captured by the (hopefully unobtrusive) Knee Cam.
I've got my closing comments all planned out - I'm going to write thoughtfully, lovingly and, I hope, insightfully, about what Alan Doyle has in common with Chocolate - but those comments come after the final video.
My last video here is of what was Alan's first solo song of the evening, and even though he was surely still feeling a bit nervous, he did a spectacular job with this beautiful Paul Hyde song (from his The Big Book Of Sad Song, Vol. 1 album) both with his vocals and his guitar work. The song itself was perfectly chosen for the occasion, and Alan performed it like it had been written just for him.
And the soul goes on forever, And love is stronger than time; All broken men will be happy again, And forever, forever light will shine...
When I was in my late teens, I attended what was billed as "The Chocolate Experience," a culinary symposium held at the local fairgrounds. I was just beginning to get serious about learning to cook well and, having grown up in pretty much a meat-and-potatoes-with-corn-as-the-veggie house, I wanted to learn about varieties and possibilities and options that had never before occurred to me. And I was hoping to taste some delectable samples too. Of course.
I went into The Experience already a confirmed lover of chocolate, and what I found there - the vast and startling wealth of creative combinations and delightful flavours, the welcome discovery of ways in which chocolate could give pleasure to places on my tongue that had never before been touched by its taste - made me a passionate believer in chocolate's complex potential, and an even more passionate believer in Potential itself, in the worth of seeking out all possible powers and pleasures, even those, especially those, that had never before occurred to me.
I wandered up and down the display aisles, wondering over and inspired by chocolate-dipped apricots, chocolate-flecked yeast breads, chocolate-infused chili, chocolate-curried beef, chocolate-stuffed peppers. chocolate-filled ravioli, chocolate rum eggnog and chocolate Grand Marnier cocktails...not to mention molded chocolate centerpieces both bawdy and sublime. Chocolate milk and chocolate dark, chocolate sweet and chocolate savoury, chocolate chill and chocolate afire, chocolate bold and chocolate seductive. Always and forever Chocolate Possible.
Not every ingredient is blessed with such inherent potential, quietly, if perhaps not patiently, waiting for talent and skill and creativity to bring out in shining triumph. Nor is each person. But those few who are, those whose potential is matched by a clear vision and made tangible by a persistent effort, are a rare and deeply appreciated delight.
Each time I see and hear and take my full and grateful pleasure in Alan's successful venture into his Next New Thing, his hosting an event or composing a score or producing an album or acting in a major film/TV show or writing a thoughtful commentary - his nailing the solo spot and then blending perfectly with an acclaimed chamber choir, and for sure his creation of an upcoming-and-going-to-be stellar (first) Solo Album - he does for me what The Chocolate Experience had done on a lesser scale years ago: He makes the world of What Is Possible that much bigger, that much brighter, that much sweeter. That much more beautiful and that much more easily loved.
And, yes, that much more delectable too. Of course.
There's still a daunting pile of Stuff that has to get done before I leave on Wednesday, so my progress with the Gold Medal Plates photos/videos has been slow. I do have a few more videos up now, and I'm also close to knowing what I want to say about this endearing Man:
Alan Doyle, Hockey Hall Of Fame show with the Jim Cuddy All-Stars
Though these photos are from way back in 2004 - from November 6th to be precise, exactly seven years to the day from yesterday - they're as timely and pertinent today post-Gold Medal Plates show as they were post-HHOF gig on November 7th, 2004. Not just because Alan performed with Barney Bentall in both shows, but because I saw the same Man on stage in each of these shows.
I really like that Man. He made an impression on me, a lasting impression. He always makes that impression on me. He's Something Special...Someone Special. He's the Man I'm going to write about - Gold Medal Plates Alan and Solo Album Alan and, yes, GBS Alan too - just as soon as I get this pile of Stuff done.
Until then, the two videos I've uploaded so far:
Alan performs a Beatles song that he might have written himself.
And here, he plays a support role as Barney performs his own son's song, with singing and dancing assistance provided by two Olympic Gold Medal rowers (be sure to notice how Alan moves his gorgeous tenor guitar - his current favourite instrument - out of harm's way when the dancers get a bit close to where it's sititng).
Yes, the GMP crowd was frigging drunk and noisy and, yes, people kept bumping past and crashing against and being pains in the arse, but even with all that, it's still so easy to see that there's Something Special - that there's Someone Special - up on that stage. Making an impression.
Great day working with Mike Post. At it again today. What a thrill. -Alan Doyle, Twitter
No, not done yet with my Daunting Pile. Nevertheless, I am now thoroughly distracted with delight over Alan's latest, cool-as-it-gets Solo Album Progress Report. This is such great news: The last time Alan and Mike Post collaborated, the result was Middle Of Nowhere, the hauntingly unforgettable song that was featured in an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent.
In all the time I've had this blog, nothing has generated anywhere close to as many Googled-their-way here enquires as has this song (a video of which I'd put up on YouTube and linked here, until being summarily swatted by NBC/Universal for coypyrigt violation); each time this Criminal Intent episode airs again, wherever it airs, the enquiries about Middle Of Nowhere inevitably follow after, like clockwork. I can say with complete assurance that there are many, many people from countries all around the world - a sizeable majority of whom had not a clue who was singing that soul-searing vocal, nor who had written the brutally impassioned lyrics - who have been utterly blown away by this song and who want to know where they could hear it again.
And now Alan is working once again with Mike Post, working together with the consummate Pro and unquestioned Master, this time on his first solo album. I agree - what a thrill for the Petty Harbour Boy/Gold Medal Rockstar. What an absolutely wonderful and thoroughly deserved thrill.
I love it whenever he gets to feel that way. Yeah, you got it...it's thrilling.
I'm still waaaaay behind on getting stuff done and running out of time to do it, but I'm hoping to be able to find some time to write about Gold Medal Alan tonight, or, at the latest, during travel layovers and stopovers along my roundabout route tomorrow and Thursday. The rest from Vancouver's Gold Medal Plates photos/videso, too.
But I wasn't about to wait that long to cheer for Alan's latest thrill. Some things are so sweet they really do need to be done Here and Now.
And just how justifiably pleased with themselves (and one another) do all of these Alan Doyle Solo Album Participants look?
Recording Alan Doyle of Great Big Sea with co-producer Russell Crowe at The Warehouse Studio in Vancouver.- Mike Fraser, Twitter
In this photo, Alan looks like a thrilled 14 year old. I love it whenever Alan is a thrilled 14 year old.
Just wrapped up a long stretch of travel and am in serious need of sleep, with the main part of what I want to say still unwritten. It's about choosing to seek out the places and embrace the people who bring out the Best in you...even when it might be easier, simpler, safer not to be that Best.
I will get it written, eventually. For tonight - for this morning, because it's well into Friday morning by now - this is what I have to offer: I do understand; at least, I think I do. I hope I do. Most of the time I understand, and the rest of the time I still keep trying to, even when I fail.
Right here and right now, it's alright - not ideal, to be sure, but alright. It truly is. And I believe with all my heart that something wonderful, something amazing, is coming. Soon.
I'm trying to balance my laptop on a bouncy, crowded shuttle from Vancouver to Seattle, with not very much success, so not writing a great deal right now. But I've got birhday stuff on the go as soon as I get back home and I did not want to wait till late tonight or tomorrow before putting something new up here, even if I don't have very much yet.
But I do have Molly Malone...and Sweet Alan Doyle.
From last night's Gold Medal Plates gig in Vancouver:
I love seeing Alan this way, centre spotlight in the midst of so many other top-flight accomplishers and achievers, right where he belongs. Seeing him here - and also when he sang We Can Work It Out (what just might be the most-perfectly-chosen-by-Alan-Doyle Beatles song ever ...video to come) - was all that was needed to make my night. That, and knowing he was connecting with Russell in Vancouver to get more work done on his solo album. More than enough to please me. Anything else good and delightful, anything else appealing and charming, that might come along - the apricot beer was certainly all these things - would be sweet bonus. Sweetly appreciated bonus.
Overall, Vancouver's GMP gig was a bit of an odd bird - kind of an Eat And Drink Yourself Silly For A Great Cause sort of evening. What odds. Let's just call Gold Medal Plates Vancouver "interesting" for now and wait to see how it compares to St. John's' own version of the same event in a week or so.
Let's just keep thinking how much closer to completion that solo album will be by then. Gold Medal, all the way.
More video and a few really cute photos from GMP later, post-bouncy shuttle ride and post-birthday celebrations.
A very busy week ahead for Alan, delightfully busy. Recording at home with Bob and Sean for the Great Big Sea 20th Anniversary Box Set, with the particularly welcome news of "2-4 pieces of new music" upcoming for GBS XX; filming a Christmas special in TO with the full cast of GBS and the Barenaked Ladies; performing with Jim Cuddy in Edmonton, Vancouver and Saskatoon at Gold Medal Plates shindigs; meeting up with Russell Crowe while in Vancouver, for some solo-album writing and recording (and, with luck and good timing, perhaps some public singing and playing); jetting down to LA for more songwriting with a few friends (I know one friend I am very much hoping is included in this venture - the friend Alan missed out on working with last March because of how badly his back was hurting), both for his solo album and for television shows; back again to VanCity for more work with Russell; and then a return home for a very cool Remembrance Day gig with a local choir.
Wow. Very exciting times for the Man who thrives on such circumstances. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he's so thrilled about what's ahead that he finds it hard to go to sleep tonight. I'm so thrilled for him about what's ahead that I might find it hard to go to sleep tonight.
And as much as I'm personally looking forward to the Remembrance Day gig and to Vancouver's Gold Medal Plates event - as well as to any fortuitous Alan/Russell performances that might possibly occur later that evening - what I most eagerly anticipate will still be Yet To Come even after this very exciting week reaches its conclusion. My anticipation is going to last all the way till February, till the release of Alan's first solo album.
After that? After that it will be whatever thrilling new venture Alan will be setting out on, whatever talent or skill he'll be exploring and developing, whatever opportunity or experience he'll be enjoying and sharing. And it will be wonderful...because with Alan, there is always more Wonderful to come.
Delightful, sleep-stealing information aside, this is a particularly well-written blog from Alan, especially his opening and closing paragraphs, in which he eloquently and evocatively describes making the most of sweetly fleeting moments of peaceful contentment at the family cabin before taking his plunge into the Whirlwind of the upcoming week, deftly balancing his keen appreciation for the former with his eager anticipation of the latter.
I particularly admire his lyrical depiction of the Placentia Bay "hills of green turning orange turning yellow" and his moving word-portrait of Molly, the aging little black dog who Alan once described, equally admirably, as only wanting each day to be the same as the day before. He did well by her then; he does well by her now. Follow the link to see for yourself just how well.
The final paragraph is especially striking, with Father and Son watching the Eagle's soaring early-hours flight - a moment shared by the two of them just a few days before Dad heads out on his own journey across Newfoundland's morning skies.
There goes the Eagle.
Wonderful.
Back to what I was working on - Murray's Cocksure Lads gig and some thoughts about performing solo material, and I think maybe more Winnipeg photos - next time. Alan's FTR today was surely a magnificent, and most-welcome, distraction.
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.
