Boot the Bassist

Having to kick someone out of a band is never a simple task, and this was the first time in my life I had been faced with the challenge to do just that. I put it right up there on the same level as breaking up with your significant other. What made it even more awkward on this occasion, was the fact that we jammed with Tyler earlier that fateful evening. Once we dropped him off afterwards we decided to break the news to him, and he did not take it well. 

Essentially, we explained that our visions of the bands direction differed from each other, but the truth of the matter was Tyler was just an angry young man we cared to deal with no more. I myself was battling through my own personal anger issues, meanwhile Derek was very laid back, so throwing Tyler in the mix was not healthy for either of us. We had also questioned wether Tyler was racist, as we had heard a few questionable things pass through his lips before, which made Derek uncomfortable considering his girlfriend was a black Jew.

I also remember Tyler suggesting we change the title of our one song "Rug burn" to "Love burn" an idea Derek absolutely loathed. Although a lot of lyrics Derek wrote were about girls and love, he felt the word "love" itself had no place in lyrics or song titles. Looking back at the situation now and how things unfolded, I almost question if Derek disposed of Tyler because he was opinionated, because as time passed it became clearer and clearer to me who the captain of the ship was. The shot caller, the control freak if you will....every band needs one, and this band was Derek's baby. 

So now here we were, a two man band again. One green guitarist and a mediocre drummer. It felt like we were right back to square one again with this "band" Not long after giving Tyler the boot, Derek informed me that we could now jam at his girlfriends parents house in their basement. This was good news because it meant we had a "jam space" so we would not have to cart our gear back and forth from Brampton to Toronto each rehearsal.  I'll never forget how excited we were getting the room all "pimped out" to our likings. We even set the mood with incense and candles as well as some inspiring decorative art. 

Derek strapped on his axe, I jumped behind my drum kit, and it was time to jam! After playing our usual "rug burn" loop for 15-30 minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. I angrily declared:

"We need a new fucking song dude!"

Kick Out The Jams

It seemed like it was not long after I mentioned to Derek I had a drum set, that we were packing my 5 piece pearl drum kit into the back of his van and carting it down town. We were actually going to jam INSIDE of the store, which I thought was pretty damn cool. I definitely felt like a Rockstar now, booming out tunes for the hipsters on Queen street below to hear briefly as they passed by in their uber cool travels. 

I had also now met Tyler, the bass player Derek had been in cahoots with. Tyler was an interesting kid to say the least, he was tall and lanky, simular to myself. He wore a strange hat reminiscent of something Santa's elves would wear, and he was slightly obsessed with Red Hot Chili Peppers, even more so than me. Their bass player Flea, was his idol, and Tyler loved trying to emulate his frantic slap style of bass playing. Tyler was also into old funk such as Ohio Players, Funkadelic, etc. but I assumed he only "liked" these bands because the guys in the Chilis did. Tyler was a very outspoken kid, and I could tell this made Derek rather uncomfortable, as he was a very non confrontational person.

We had our first jam and we came up with a song we called "Rug Burn" it was a loose, heavy groove that we played over and over for the duration of the jam. It was at this first jam that I noticed Derek was probably the worst guitar player I had ever seen or heard in my life. His only saving grace was that he made up for his lack of experience with an over abundance of enthusiasm and passion. Tyler and I both agreed we would need a second guitar player so Derek could focus more on singing, as he was to be the bands front man. 

The next week we were at it again, jamming in the store after hours, and trying out people for the position of Lear guitarist. Even my best friend Jerry came down and auditioned for us one night! It was always strange jamming with complete strangers however, I compare it to the awkwardness one may experience with a virtual unknown they picked up at a bar for a one night stand. So here we were, jamming our "rug burn" loop over and over with an assortment of string strummers, yet it seemed like we just couldn't find anyone who fit the part. We decided we would continue on as a three piece band, but we strongly urged Derek to get his shit together, perhaps even take some guitar lessons. 

As the jams went on over the course of the next two weeks, friction was building between Tyler and Derek. D came to me with his concerns and we talked things over for awhile. It was obvious what had to be done to restore balance to "the band" Tyler had to go...

Current updates 11/06/2013

What's going one everyone? 1000 apologies for my being AWOL the past week. As per usual the trials and tribulations of life prevented me from

finding the time to write. Fortunately the powers that be have relinquished me for a hot minute, so I am taking that hot minute to get at you.

Not much new going on with me, same old really. I've been working on a sculpture, tattooing, and hanging out with my son in my free time. I've also been very consumed in the world of Grand Theft Auto 5 online, I fear it is taking my life over. If you play gtaV online for Xbox be sure to add me:

CabalwithaK 420

Musically I am still currently working on my latest full length "What's below remains below" as well as getting material together for "Tales From The MixTape volume 2" As I juggle those two projects, I am also still working with my homeboy Mach Spitz on our new collaboration "Street Trash" Be sure to follow our progress as we release new material:

streettrash.bandcamp.com

Another issue I've been dealing with is my vlog. I am feeling very overwhelmed at the thought of having almost 200 blog posts to cover just so I can catch up to the current timeframe in the story. I'm seriously contemplating scrapping the idea, but I'd still like to do something video wise. I shall keep you posted on this subject over the next few weeks.

I've also been working on my new podcast with my buddy Jon. We just recorded our third episode yesterday, and after a long day of editing and mixing it is finally available to the public. Be sure to check us out, and please like/share us on Facebook.

Facebook.com/coinoppodcast

Have a great week everyone! 

Afterlife

Derek, was a quiet, friendly, unique individual whom I originally met back in grade 6, as he was a fellow misfit in the classroom of kids who were too terrible to go on the Camp Kilkoo trip. I had seen him all through grade six but never actually talked to him or got to know him until that particular week towards the end of grade 6. At the time Derek was a straight up doppelgänger of pop singer "Cory Hart" and the chicks seemed to dig him. It honestly wouldn't have surprised me if tourists visiting Canada stopped to ask him for a pic or autograph....THAT is how down pat he had the look. Who was I to judge? I was looking like a rejected extra from the set of Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. Oh the 80's. By grade nine I was a thrasher, Derek was now goth, and then he just kind of disappeared. All I ever really heard of him was that he was going to school in Toronto and had a store down there now.

So here I was in 1991, strolling down Queen west, I finally encountered a sign that read "Afterlife" this was the place. I went up the rickety staircase and passed through a cloud of incense smoke as I entered the shop. There was Derek, now looking like a white Bob Marley, with big chunky dreadlocks. We were both pretty stoked to see each other, as we chatted and laughed about the old days. I eventually had to get back to work, but I told Derek I'd come see him the next day and we could catch up some more. 

The next day I went to see him on lunch, and then the next day, and then the day after that, until it became a daily routine.  We both seemed to enjoy each others company and we had a lot of common ground. One night he invited me out to dinner with him and his girlfriend at the time, who I had coincidentally helped him land back in grade 7 on our school trip to Quebec. Here they were still a happy couple, amazing I thought. They took me out for authentic Jamaican cuisine, and I tried jerk chicken for my first time, becoming an instant fan. 

Before long we were hanging out on a regular basis. I'd go see Derek on lunch. After my co op was done for the day I would go hang with him at the store, usually until they closed up. From there it was generally dinner and then back to Brampton. The store "afterlife" sold used vintage clothing, jewellery, and accessories. The atmosphere was very chill and I quite enjoyed sitting on the window ledge watching all the beautiful women below me, strutting their stuff down Queen street west.

During our many chats, Derek had made reference to "his band" a few times. We had been hanging out for a few weeks now, and I had yet to meet any members of this band, so one day I decided to ask him about it. Turns out his band was just him, and a fellow student from the alternative school he was now attending in Toronto. Two guys....a green guitarist and a skilled bass player.....and a name....."Slow Poke" they were merely lacking a drummer, which is kind of a big deal when one proclaims to be in a band.

Derek seemed almost embarrassed that I had uncovered the truth about his "band" but I was never one to break somebody down for stretching the truth a bit, or criticize someone for having a dream. There was a pause of silence and an awkwardness in the air. I finally spoke up, shattering the silence with a statement that would change both of our lives forever...

"I have a drum set" 

Lightbox

My first day of work was comparable to the first day of school. I was nervous, anxious, and I didn't know what to expect as I entered this new foreign world. I was met at the door by the receptionist, who was an attractive, tall drink of water. She let me in and offered me a seat while she got on the horn to let the "big boss" know I had arrived. Within minutes I was met by the "big boss" her name was Mary, a tiny woman of Asian descent. Upon first appearance one would expect her to be shy and quiet, but she was actually very harsh, abrupt, and loud. I assumed she had a complex due to her being so petite, but looking back I'm going to guess her being the boss had something to do with her harsh attitude. 

Mary gave me a tour of the place, and all the employees were checking me out like I had 3 eyes. Eventually she led me to a small, unused room, where she introduced me to a guy named Mark. Mary left me in Marks hands so he could show me the ropes, then she quickly vanished to the sanctuary of her office. Mark was a very nice fellow, he had a bit of a limp and a gimp hand, I believe he had MS or some similar condition. Mark had the lovely task of cleaning labels off of VHS cassettes so the company could re use them, and lucky me got to help! We literally spent a full day scrubbing labels with lighter fluid of all things, the fluid was best for removing the sticky adhesive apparently. 

I finally got a lunch break around noon, and I couldn't be happier. I was going a bit stir crazy from 4 solid hours of scrubbing labels. I didn't really know what to do with myself, or where to go, so I smoked a cigarette as I walked the streets, eventually coming across a hot dog vendor, entrails and intestines sounded good to me. After lunch it was right back to scrubbing labels. Not long into it we ran out of lighter fluid. Mark declared we'd need more, and he asked me if I'd be interested in going out to buy some. Of course I would! Anything to get away from these labels! I was given some petty cash via Mary, and next thing I knew I was walking down King Street, smoking a cigg, on my way to buy lighter fluid. I took my time on this mission as I was in no rush to get back to those VHS tapes, but I couldn't stay out on the streets forever, so there I was again, back in the empty part of the studio scrubbing labels. 

Now when I say the studio was empty, I mean it was set up like a functioning animation studio, with light tables and all, but NOBODY worked down there, everyone worked upstairs in newer offices with equipment that was also clearly superior. It seemed like Mark and  I were the only ones who worked on the main floor, with the exception of the receptionist. I soon gathered that Mark was essentially the "gopher" around here, as he obviously wasn't doing any animating with his bum hand. Before long it seemed like I was rapidly becoming the new gopher, as I was constantly cleaning things, xeroxing endless amounts of work for the animators, and going on supply runs. One benefit of this was being able to get out of the office and cruise the streets of Toronto. I'd take my time, go shopping in record shops along the way, and pop in any other place that caught my eye. Lightbox had business accounts with all the art supply shops in the city, so when I went for pickups I didn't even need money, everything was charged to the company account. Naturally I took advantage of this and started throwing in extras for myself on the company's dime.

Mark ended up leaving and I was officially the new bitch boy for Lightbox. One very cool aspect of literally having an entire floor to myself, was the fact that I was never being watched or monitored. It's not like I was up to anything shady, I've just always proffered working alone. When I was done my list of tasks that were assigned to me each morning, I had the rest of the day to do as I pleased, and a fully operational animation studio at my finger tips. All I did was draw in my free time and plan out animated films that I aspired to bring to life one day. 

A few weeks in on a Friday afternoon, Mary asked me if I would be so kind as to go pick up some supplies from "Curry's" on Queen street west, a place I was very familiar with from my Toronto shopping excursions. I got the list from her and was on my way. As I strolled down Queen street, I started thinking about an old friend from school who I had heard now ran a clothing store down here. I decided I would pop in and say hello to my old school mate. Unbeknownst to me, what started as a simple gesture of friendship would lead to an incredible musical journey that would influence and dominate a major portion of my life...

Co-Op

It was now January 1991, I was about to turn 18, and I was beginning my second semester of grade 12, which would also be my final semester of high school. I was a bit sad to see high school coming to an end, but most of my friends were already gone, so I knew deep down there really wasn't anything left here for me to miss. I was also quite excited to be spending my final months of school in a co-operative work placement program, meaning I'd be "working" a job somewhere instead of going to classes. I use the term working loosely seeing as you don't get paid for the work. 

When I initially registered for co-op the previous year, I never even stopped to think about what I wanted to do. I had initially chosen something, which escapes me now, but at the zero hour I changed my mind, expressing my passion to work in the animation industry instead. The powers that be told me they would see what they could do, and I left it in their hands as I waited patiently. I honestly didn't think they were going to get back to me with good news, as my scholastic karma had always been quite negative. Needless to say I was in total shock when the guidance counsellor informed me they had found me a placement at "Lightbox Animation" in Toronto. It was going to be one hell of a commute everyday, but I was so anxious and ready for it! 

The first couple weeks of the semester was spent in class preparing ourselves to enter the working world. Mike Myers happened to be in co-op at the same time, but as fate would have it we were in separate classes. I ended up chilling with "The Iceman" most of the time, both in and out of class. Iceman, or Randy, was one of the coolest black guys I ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he was one of the only brothers who saw me for who I was, instead of assuming I was a racist due to my appearance. Randy taught me quite a lot about the fine art of basketball, Jamaican 3 card, and how to get younger girls to buy you lunch. Before long however, our time was through, as both co-op classes entered into the working world. We did still however get to see each other on Mondays, as that was our in class day. 

I can vividly remember my mother waking me up for my first day of "work" it was about six o' something in the morning and still dark outside. I went through the motions of showering and getting dressed without barely opening my eyes, and before long I was sitting in the front seat of my mothers car. She worked at a bank in the mall where the bus stop just so happened to be, so she dropped me off on her way to work with enough money to get the go bus & subway to Toronto and back. I had my trusted Walkman with me and some reading material, and I quite enjoyed the commute down. 

When I finally exited the subway at King street, I walked up to the cold, snowy streets and began my trek to work. I was starving by this point, and still had time to kill, so I went into a cafe called "The Kit Kat" which was really cool. The place was decorated with an assortment of "Felix The Cat" memorabilia. I immediately thought to myself that Mike Chapman would love this place, as he was a huge Felix fan. I enjoyed some baked goods and chocolate milk, and then headed down the alley behind the cafe, which led me to Mercer  street, where I quickly found a small black & grey building with frosted glass windows and a small sign that said "Lightbox Animation" It was time for my first day of "work"...

The Best Man

The first semester of grade 12 flashed by in the blink of an eye, Christmas had passed, and it was now January 1991. Jerry had disappeared from my life over the past year, as he had met a girl he fell head over heels for. Craig was still practically living at Phil's place, and Ryan.....well he was still Ryan.

In late 1990 however, Jerry showed up at my parents place one day just as I was heading out the door to go skateboarding. I was surprised and taken back to see the infamous "S.E." parked in my driveway with Jerry sitting nervously behind the wheel. As soon as he saw me, he jumped out of the car with tons of enthusiasm and energy. After all, it had been over a year since we had seen or even spoken to one another. Before I could even pass a word between my lips, Jerry insisted that I hear him out. It ended up he had broken up with his girlfriend and made the realization that he had completely neglected and ignored his friends for the last year. 

I could understand why he felt guilty about that, but I couldn't fathom to what levels of depth his guilt lay with, and they were much deeper than I had expected. Jerry apologized for his disappearing act that he had just pulled for the last 12 months, but he went on adamantly about it, professing that deep down inside of him he figured out I was his truest best friend, which was a bit shocking to me as I always thought Craig and him were closer. I suppose when Craig branched off with Phil, Jerry saw that I was still there for him as a friend, even though he also chose to "abandon" me around the same time.

Regardless of whatever caused this epiphany in him, Jer made a point of apologizing endlessly while continuously reassuring me that we would be best of friends until the end. The story got even deeper as he confided to me that he felt I was the one person solely responsible for him having "a life" as he put it, meaning all the cool things he had done,  the places he had went, and the people he had met, many of which had become friends of his by this point. Jerry swore up and down that if it wasn't for me taking a chance on a goofy, but loveable guy in grade 6, he wouldn't have enjoyed his life to the quality he had up until this moment. 

With that he swore his undying devotion to me as a best friend, and promised he would never disappear from my life again. Looking back now from this present moment in 2013, there were a few gaps of time over the years that we didn't see or talk to each other for extends periods, yet when we did get in touch with each other it was as if we had come full circle and never skipped a beat. In my mind that is the ultimate element to a true friendship or connection between friends. To this day we are still best friends, Jerry was the best man at my wedding, and we even live in the same town once again. We get together once a week, sometimes twice, and we are still both very inspiring to one another. 

I can still remember him parked in my parents driveway like it was yesterday. After he was finished saying his piece, I got in the car with him and we drove off, wandering the streets aimlessly as we theorized and hypothesized about how we would be as friends when we hit our 90's... Only 50 more years to go my friend... 

Pic my mom took the night of our re-union. X-mas 90/91'