I have been working on my first new column in months, but it is taking longer than I thought it would. Fortunately, I found this excerpt from a column written and published 11 years ago in 2012, that leads nicely into the one I am working on, which, God and the Grand Wozzel willing, I will share with you next Friday. That said, there are a lot of new words and pictures here, so, yeah, we’re not here to waste your time.
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The business of business cards….little pieces of history….a nostalgic trail of change of memories. Each one has its own story….of the owner, the business, the year, even the decade. Headed to the basement to check the dehumidifier and stood gaping in overwhelming awe at what still has to be done with much of Chris’s “stuff” over five years after his death. Okay…..deep breath…..one box at a time. My eyes landed on the “box o’ cards” so upstairs it came. It resulted in a magical wander back in time for an entire afternoon. I do not exaggerate when I say the man kept EVERYTHING. I was stunned to find my very first business card from Associated Creative Talent (ACT). Ahhhh, was the summer of ‘79. I had only been in Toronto three months. What a life-changing year that turned out to be.
Originally posted April 3rd, 2011….
Being in a rock band can be fun, rewarding, stimulating and an adventure. It can also be tedious, frightening, life threatening, and rife with danger. No matter how well you plan, no matter how prepared you are, there are forces at work which will occasionally just fuck you up. Sometimes, it can be someone who is a stranger, or worse, someone in the support system of the band who causes the problems. Sometimes…it can be you…and when I say you, I mean me.
Started writing these reminiscing’s on Friday morning, as the world awoke to the dawning of our Fearless Leaders 70th year on the planet. Trying to finish writing them while still nursing the remnants of a hangover, 48 hours after the Birthday Boy’s bash.
For Friends of Bob (aka … FOB’s)
Toronto was a different place in the late 1970’s and early eighties. Although it’s easy to look back with rose coloured glasses, it was, in fact, a watershed time for Toronto musicians. Everywhere you turned, you were surrounded by outstanding music, made by dedicated and very talented players, who enjoyed the freedom to create their art, and make a living at the same time.
At the beginning of May I released my fourth book – ‘Life’s A Canadian (Punk) Rock – Who Wants Guns?: The Swindled Story (1973-1983)’ Check it out here.
In it I discuss my formative musical years and how an innocuous friendship with a high school punk took me on a two year roller coaster ride through the 2nd Wave of the Toronto punk scene as alleged guitarist in hardcore act Swindled. I had previously run the chapters as blog entries in Don’t Believe A Word I Say back in 2010. The band reunited in 2011 with the ever professional Cleave Anderson on drums, we recorded our long awaited debut album (only 30 years in the making) and everyone lived happily ever after. That chapter is the epilogue in the book.
Chapter Two can be found HERE
The plot, like good gravy, thickens…
So where were we? Oh yeah…The band is complete, A&M have bailed out, I no longer have Rita Coolidge or Graham Nash’s, or anybody else’s phone numbers, (my phone book, clothes, smokes, and everything else I had with me had been stolen in Detroit when I went there to produce The Romantics), which is why I never called anyone I had met prior to 1978 ever again,
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Being in a rock band can be fun, rewarding, stimulating and an adventure. It can also be tedious, frightening, life threatening, and rife with danger. No matter how well you plan, no matter how prepared you are, there are forces at work which will occasionally just fuck you up. Sometimes, it can be someone who is a stranger, or worse, someone in the support system of the band who causes the problems. Sometimes…it can be you…and when I say you, I mean me.
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Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 