Home movies & hammer locks

the pxl 2000

All in all grade nine was starting out pretty amazingly. I was making new friends, I was discovering new things that ranged from alcohol to recreational drugs to incredible music, I had my own identity in the BBS world, and most importantly I finally had a band. Even though we had our band now we still didn't put as much effort into it as we should have, instead we opted to run around and get into trouble every chance we got. And as winter was rolling around nobody wanted to be transporting instruments and walking to band practice.

That year for Christmas my folks got me a black and white camcorder made by fisher price, the leaders in durable kids toys. I even had a very small black and white television that I could hook it up to and use as a monitor. The tv was literally about 6-8 inches squared, so it was very easy to carry and to conceal. We would hang out at the Ching library a lot in the evenings. We were supposed to be doing homework and school assignments, but instead we'd be creeping around with that camera, looking for funny things, people, or situations to record.

Some kid at our school got caught masturbating in the boys washroom so whenever we saw him in the halls we would roll film and get up in his face declaring "hey it's the loser who got caught wanking" that's an example of the things we felt were worthy of documenting. I also tried to do a lot of stop motion animation with the camera but not having a tripod made it extremely difficult, so back to pranks and humiliation it was!

I was now in my fifth year of hockey as well, and to be quite honest I was starting to get bored of it. Plus with the discovery of partying and drinking came the discovery of the dreaded hangover. Getting up for a hockey practice or game at 5 or 6 am after a night of mixing every type of booze under the sun was getting tiresome to me. I knew without a doubt that this was going to be my last year playing hockey, I just had to break the news to my old man now without breaking his heart.

The truth of the matter was, is, and forever shall be, that I despised sports and most of the jock-ish people related to them. Over the years I had played soccer, t-ball, softball, hardball, basketball, and hockey...all to appease my father who was a basketball and football star throughout his high school days. I suppose him marrying my mother at such a young age and in turn having no choice but to work for a living cut his dreams of sports stardom short, causing him to vicariously try and live his dreams through me.

In reality there was only two sports I truly loved, wrestling and skateboarding, both of which seemed incredibly hard to make a living off of without the proper discipline and dedication. I had no clue at age 14 that one could actually be a pro skateboarder, so naturally wrestling seemed like the only option. The question now was did I have what it took to become a pro wrestler?

Sweet Leaf

Early into grade nine my sister and her friend had gotten an apartment over on Knightsbridge near the Bramalea City Centre. The buildings on Knightsbridge were known to be seedy and the area was essentially the first ghetto in Brampton.  The first time I went to her place I noticed a plant in her living room and thought nothing of it, until I realized it was a marijuana plant. I asked my sister about it and she confirmed it was and we had a chuckle over it. Obviously moving out of ones parents house meant the freedom to do whatever one wanted to, and I was already anxious about it, regardless of the fact I had at least 4 more years to go, like hell on earth with a terrible president. 

At one point my sister went to use the bathroom so I decided to take a clipping off of the plant and quickly hid it in my cigarette pack. When I left her place I just about puked when I realized someone had stolen my brand new bmx bike I had just got a few months prior. As I walked home in frustration I saw a young black kid approaching me on what looked like my bike. As he got closer I became more and more convinced that it was in fact my bike, so just as he was passing me I clotheslined him with my right arm and hooked him like a lariat, resulting in the kid slamming down to the sidewalk on his back, which sent the bike coasting in a "ghost ride" until it tumbled over. The kid laid there stunned and winded. I quickly realized it wasn't even my bike he was riding. I ran off before he even regained his marbles and figured out what had just happened. 

The next day before school I decided I was going to try the marijuana I had secretly stolen from my sister, I hadn't even told any of my friends about it as I feared they would possibly be upset with me and perhaps even outcast me. I twisted the herb up in some type of paper, I can't even remember if it was an actual cigarette paper or tissue paper or onion paper, but none the less I managed to roll my first joint. In movies I had always seen people use roach clips to hold their doobies so I had to improvise, a pink paper clip from my art supplies would have to suffice. I opened my bedroom window and literally hung my upper body out of it so the house wouldn't smell. Once I was finished I grabbed my school bag and trusted Walkman and began the trek.

I can recall enjoying the walk thoroughly. My music sounded better than ever and everything in general looked more beautiful to me, I was truly appreciating nature and life in a different light. When I got to school I can remember roaming the halls, which seemed to be never ending, a shit eating grin on my face no doubt. When I saw people I didn't like or had issues with I would blatantly point at them and laugh out loud to myself, as opposed to being angered and causing a confrontation like I normally would have. I ran into my friend Julie who was the only "user" I knew of and I excitedly told her what I had done. At first she didn't believe me but my actions quickly convinced her otherwise.

I felt great, I felt happy, and for the first time in my life I truly felt centred and whole. My anger, hatred and hostility were non existent. I felt care free and wasn't sweating the small things that generally lead to feelings of dread and anxiety. This was definitely one sweet leaf, and I had no doubt in my mind I would be trying it again very soon...

Bass

One thing in particular I noticed about thrash and hardcore music, and one thing in particular I very much liked about the music, was the predominance of the bass guitar. I'm not sure why, but throughout my previous years prior to grade nine I had never really noticed bass in music. I am unclear as to why, but I reckon that the way heavy metal and rock music was mixed, you just didn't hear the bass. I later learned that bass could be felt more so than heard, but going back to old metal, I still don't hear it or feel it, with the exception of Motörhead. I was aware however as to what a bass guitar was but I think I was pretty clueless in the differences between a four string and a six string guitar. 

Now with crossover music I had completely become aware of the bass and how it differed in sound, tone and feel in comparison to the electric guitar. A lot of the songs I was hearing in this new genre I had discovered, had a tendency to start the song off with a bass lick, or there would be a break in the song at some point where just the bass stood alone. I loved the sound and feeling that charged me up whenever this happened, and I wanted to incorporate that into our sound now that we had a band. The only problem was we had no bass player.

Enter Scott. Scott, or "Vans" as we called him (vans being the first four letters of his last name) was a kid I had met in grade six when I started school at Williams Parkway. Vans was a pretty quiet, average looking guy, and Sanjai had started hanging around with him, so naturally he became apart of our circle of friends. I can't remember if he already owned a bass or if he bought one so he could join the band, but none the less he had a bass and we were now a five piece band with a bass player.

"VANS" & I clowning around in toys-R-us

When we first started Anathema we were a three piece, which was inspired by groups such as Motörhead, Venom & Celtic Frost. Now with the discovery of thrash and hardcore, I had noticed most the bands had four or five members. I now felt we were one step closer to becoming the new vision I had for us. With this new line up change came more changes, we decided it was time for a new name for the band. We were all huge fans of the television show "our gang/little rascals" so we decided upon the name "The Little Thrashcals" Although it was somewhat juvenile and silly we liked it, but not for very long...

Band morph

One day at school during grade nine I was telling my buddy Ryan about our band "Anathema" which he was quite interested to hear about, so much in fact that he asked if he could come watch us at our next rehearsal. I agreed and told him he could even get in on the action if he wanted.

Our next jam session arrived and Ryan showed up at my place to watch. We went through the handful of songs we had as he sat and eagerly watched on. After we played through the set a few times I asked him if he'd like to hop on the drums and try our songs out with us. The fact was that I found it very difficult to sing and play drums at the same time. I could pull it off but it was hard and the timing on my vocal delivery was altered due to me following the rhythm of the drums. 

Ryan picked up easily on our songs and was jamming right along in unison with us and his timing was impeccable. The truth of the matter was he played drums much better than I did, he had much more experience than me and he was much more technical. Plus he was the guy who taught me to play drums in the first place. On the flip side of things I was really enjoying just being on the microphone. There was no drum set binding me down and I was able to deliver my vocals the way they were intended to be delivered in the first place. All in all our songs were sounding much better with the addition of Ryan on drums, and me being able to do my thing on the mic.

To be quite honest I had become somewhat enamoured with the high energy vocalists I was seeing in all the new crossover bands I'd recently discovered, and I wanted the freedom to jump and mosh around and deliver more showmanship. By the end of the jam the original 3 of us had a pow wow while we smoked cigarettes in the cold cellar of my basement. We all came to an agreement and decided to ask Ryan if he wanted to join our band as the new drummer, he agreed and even stated that we could jam at his parents house and combine my drum kit with his to make one giant, thrashing set!

Everything was coming together nicely but there was now one key element we were missing if we were going to become a true crossover thrash band...a bass player...

two drum kits combined as one!

Record Peddler

The time had arrived for my next trip to Toronto and I was excited as ever. I had located the whereabouts of The Record Peddler on Yonge street and I could not wait to check the place out. Normally I would have wanted to visit the usual spots, comic stores, head shops, etc. but on this particular day I was a man on a mission. We trekked up Yonge until we hit the Peddler, which was on the east side of the street between College and Bloor. 

The moment I stepped through the door I was in bliss. The store was quite large and boasted a nice open concept, which was different than the cramped, closed quarters I was used to in other record stores. The place was just a big square, or perhaps it was slightly rectangular, I can't quite remember, but it was definitely bigger than any of the record stores in my local shopping mall. Working behind the counter was none other than the man, the myth, the legend himself...Brian Taylor, he was a gruff looking individual who didn't come off as friendly or social, but none the less I felt like I was in the presence of a very important person. 

The walls were decorated with all kinds of cool band posters, mostly metal, thrash and hardcore bands. The record bins were all set up by genre and let me tell you there were a lot of records to browse through. The prices were a bit higher than what I was used to in Brampton, but it didn't matter as a lot of the records they carried were either rare, imports, or simply hard to find underground music. I didn't mind having to pay a buck or two more for what I considered great music.

Razor. Autograph session @ the original Record Peddler.

I must have spent at least an hour going through vinyl until I picked out some selections to purchase. The first was "Life of Dreams" by The Crumbsuckers, which is still one of my all time favourite records to this day. The second album I picked up was "Spreading The Disease" by Anthrax. I had never heard the album but at the time they were my favourite band, so this choice was a no brainer. The third and final record I picked was somewhat of an urban legend I had overheard some older guys talking about at school one day, it was called "Speak English Or Die" by a band called S.O.D. (Stormtroopers Of Death) and was rumoured to contain the fastest, heaviest music to date topped off with  the most extreme, controversial lyrical matter. 

As I approached the counter to pay for my selections I noticed a flyer in the window advertising the fact that a band called Corrosion of Conformity,  or C.O.C., were looking for a new vocalist. I vividly remember staring at it in awe and being amazed that the band had an add in a Toronto store, and was even more amazed by the day dream of some nobody like myself having the opportunity to front an established hardcore band such as C.O.C.

As I was paying the silent Mr.Taylor I noticed a jar on the counter. Canadian punkers Day-Glo Abortions were being sued because some irate cop had found the record in his daughters possession and brought it to the attention of the PMRC. The jar on the counter was to donate money towards their legal fees, so I proudly dumped the change I got back from Brian into the jar eagerly and willingly. The overall atmosphere of the place blew my mind and it was now without a doubt my new favourite record store. As I rode the go bus home I admired my new records and was already anticipating my next visit to the Peddler...

Metal Up Yer Kilt!

During grade nine my older friend John McCuish told me about a radio show one day that catered to thrashers and punkers. The radio show was called "Metal up yer kilt" and it was hosted by a fellow named Brian Taylor. The show was on a station called CKLN and it was at the far left end of the radio dial on 88.1fm. CKLN was my first exposure to "college radio" as it was affiliated with Ryerson University. The show only aired one night a week, it was either Mondays or Tuesdays if my memory serves correct. I believe the show spanned from 11pm to 1am.

brian taylor today. manager, rotate this.

The first few times I tried to tune in I ended up falling asleep within the first few minutes, as I was always dead tired by 11pm. Eventually I just started recording the show onto cassette tapes that way I could catch up on all the stuff I was missing out on during my slumber. Thankfully by doing so I was able to discover all kinds of new bands, like Madball who I mentioned a few posts ago. Brian played a song of theirs called "wake up and smell the bacon" and I was a fan of it instantly. The fact the singer was a 14 year old kid such as myself was very inspiring to me, not too mention he was being backed up by his older brother's band, Agnostic Front. 

Another band I discovered on the show was "Death" from the Florida area, and I fell in love with the extreme sound they provided. Death would later go down in history as the band that essentially coined the term "death metal" and put the genre on the map. They were also considered as early pioneers of the "grind core" scene. 

Another stand out from the show was a New York crossover act called "Ludichrist" I recall Mr.Taylor playing a few of their songs and it blew my mind. They were thrashy, hardcore, yet they contained elements of rap music that most metal heads probably would not have recognized. Seeing as "rap core" was my thing, Ludichrist now sat close to the top of my list of favourite bands.

I was so excited to play these tapes for my friends and introduce them to all these new bands. I'm not sure if they were as excited as I was, but they all seemed to dig the music I was exposing them to. I was eager to hit up the mall and see if I could find some records or tapes from these new bands, much to my dismay not one of the three record stores in the mall had any of them.

When I tuned in the next week Brian played a new record from a band which escapes me at the moment. The name of the band clearly isn't important at this moment in the story, what is important is the fact that Brian mentioned you could pick their new release up at "The Record Peddler" on Yonge street in Toronto. I now had a new mission in mind for my next excursion down to the big city...find the "Peddler"

Kevin's Not Here

I wanted to take this time to apologize for not posting an entry on Friday. It had been somewhat of a hectic week and I got my son Gabe on Friday for the weekend, so I opted not to write so I could spend more qaulity time with him, like creating silly videos such as the one below.

I'd also like to thank anyone and everyone who has helped spread word of this blog. Since I reached out to all my readers a mere 10 days ago, I have been averaging 100 views a day, so once again thank you.

Although I'm still wrapping up " 73' " I have already started producing beats and music for my next future release entitled "What's below remains below" I've actually managed to complete one song so I figured I'd share it with you all, I hope you dig it, and be sure to check back tomorrow for the continuation of our on going story. 

Kabal - "Kevin's Not Here"

http://kabal.bandcamp.com/track/kevins-not-here

V1. 

I'm not here, please leave a message. 
I'll get back when I'm outta the wreckage/ 
Please wait for the beep then speak, 
But, refrain and don't you get to deep/ 
Cus, chances r that ain't my brother, 
In one ear, out the other/ 
Like my mother and my father 
Machines running, but please don't bother/ 
Cus I've been gone since the time I got here, you go on, even though I'm not here/ 
Talk long, I long to rot here,can't see me I'm a little dot here/ 
Don't fret, even I can't find me, 
I missed that, so Im rewinding/ 
It feels like, my ears are blinded, 
Please leave another one I just might find it/ 

Chorus 
Kevin's not here, please leave a message, 
Ill get back when I'm done with the presage/ 
Please wait for the beep then speak, It seems I'm either asleep, or I'm making a beat/ 
Or getting something to eat, or too busy smoking weed, you can always text me I need something to read/ 
I'm either in too deep or way over my head, but I'll get right back to you soon as I can/ 

V2. 
I'm still not here, so please leave another one, don't get offended, I do it to my mother son/ 
Don't get me wrong, you're not being troublesome, I swear I'll get back to you, right on the double, once.../ 
I'm done dealing with whatever that I'm dealing with, And done feeling with whatever that I'm reeling with/ 
I'm not revealing, whoever that I meddle with, staring at the ceiling dreaming things ill never settle with/ 
You keep leaving them as if you were a real friend, just concealing that you're kneeling for a deal and/ 
a helping hand that's appealing to a weed man, clearly not hear but you're squealing like a creed fan/ 
There's no need to keep feeding me your hard times, I heard that shit, when you mentioned it the third time/ topped my inbox like you're working part time, I'll get back, once I'm done, lurking in my dark mind/ 

Chorus 
Kevin's not here, please leave a message, 
Ill get back when I'm done with the presage/ 
Please wait for the beep then speak, It seems I'm either asleep, or I'm making a beat/ 
Or getting something to eat, or too busy smoking weed, you can always text me I need something to read/ 
I'm either in too deep or way over my head, but I'll get right back to you soon as I can/ 

V3. 
I'm not here, please leave a message. 
I'll get back when I'm outta the wreckage/ 
Please wait for the beep then speak, 
But, refrain and don't you get to deep/ 
Cus, chances r that ain't my brother, 
In one ear, out the other/ 
Like my mother and my father 
Machines running, but please don't bother/ 
Cus I've been gone since the time I got here, you go on, even though I'm not here/ 
Talk long, I long to rot here,can't see me I'm a little dot here/ 
Don't fret, even I can't find me, 
I missed that, so Im rewinding/ 
It feels like, my ears are blinded, 
Please leave another one I just might find it/ 

Chorus 
Kevin's not here, please leave a message, 
Ill get back when I'm done with the presage/ 
Please wait for the beep then speak, It seems I'm either asleep, or I'm making a beat/ 
Or getting something to eat, or too busy smoking weed, you can always text me I need something to read/ 
I'm either in too deep or way over my head, but I'll get right back to you soon as I can/