While my main interest in music is “indie music”, I also like some mainstream music (even I had a copy of “Zeppelin II”), and have attended various concerts which apparently qualify me to say that. I do not pretend to be in the “Sharon Vernon triple figure concert attendance superfan category”, although the most recent “Trews” show she went to eerily included “Fortunate Losers” on the bill, a band which has been mentioned in my column before.
I open today’s column with great sadness. Tom Petty, a true rock ‘n’ roller and one of the most respected individuals in the music business today, as both as musician and a person, has died just days before his 67th birthday. Social media was on fire with the news, jumping the gun just a tad early (thanks CBS) but nonetheless, we instinctively knew in our hearts he wasn’t going to make it. I traversed the 70’s and 80’s with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, listening to and loving his work. Not your “classic” rocker, in both appearance and musically, but we all knew Petty was pure talent. The “humanness” of his lyrics, his way of combining them with a unique melody and his distinctive voice, touched a certain part of your psyche and drew you in. You stopped to listen. There will be so much written about him over the next few days and weeks I won’t drag it out here. Suffice to say this is one rocker I will truly miss. I send my condolences to his wife Dana York, his two daughters Adria and AnnaKim, his step-son Dylan and his extended family.
Since I have a fear of flying, and a flight to B.C. tomorrow morning, I’ve been in a constant state of panic for the last week or so. When I finally fall into a restless sleep, I have non-stop nightmares of arriving at the wrong terminal, without a ticket or some vital bit of identification, and wearing all the wrong clothes, if I’m wearing clothes at all. Even when there’s no reason to panic – and I can always find a reason to panic – I’m in a simmering pre-panic mode. My house looks like an exploded suitcase. Everything is everywhere.
With my ‘True Tales From a Cemetery Cop’ being released October 3 I’ve finally returned to finish writing the book I promised a year ago – the history of Bullseye Records of Canada.
1969 or maybe early 1970.A darkened Montreal rec room, outside sound dulled by faux wood paneling and shag carpeting, with the ubiquitous mirrored bar off to the side. My girlfriend, Colleen, and I slink into the room, prepared to be kicked out by her big brother Bill, the music maven of her family, if we giggled too much.If we behaved, we’d be allowed to listen, at least for a while, to the new record Bill had brought home to enjoy with some of his cooler (and older, so therefore hotter) friends. We crept into the darkness, wide eyed.
As you read this my wife Sharon Vernon and I have just celebrated our 19th anniversary. We went to Cleveland to see two of her favourite bands – the American act Red Wanting Blue and Canadian rock darling The Trews who I introduced her to (musically) in 2003 after seeing them in a club in Halifax during the ECMA’s. We’ve done a lot of that on our anniversaries – going to see live acts. That includes Lighthouse on our 17th and Ian Mitchell of the Bay City Rollers (see story below).
I’ve written previously about the things that whining and impatient hipster millennials need to do to increase their cache and brand in the music business – particularly in this new Wild West music biz. I collected all that sage advice and sarcastic commentary in a new eBook called “How To Succeed In The Music Business With Zero Talent”.
Bullseye Records of Canada
