Kings of Wood

Canada's Wonderland, an amusement park that was a mere 30 minutes from me, held concerts at their on site theatre known as "Kingswood" and that was the place I officially saw my first concert ever as a young boy growing up. My parents had taken me to see Gary "U.S." Bonds there when I was about 10-12 years old. The crowd was made up of mostly elderly folk, and I had know idea who this Gary Bonds person even was. I had no interest in the music and I felt somewhat lame being there with my parents, but all in all it was an experience.

English heavy metal rockers Iron Maiden even performed their in the early 80s, and I just so happened to be at the park on that day with my folks and a friend. Maiden were one of my favourite bands at the time, yet my folks still wouldn't let me attend the concert as they felt I was too young. I devised a plan and put it in effect. My friend and I went to the closest roller coaster to Kingswood, and we rode it over and over again. Each time we got to the peak of the coaster track we could catch a glimpse of the band in action. We could also somewhat hear the music, so it was almost as good as actually attending the concert.

A few years later when I was around age 13-14, I finally convinced my mother to allow me to attend a concert with my sister Christine, who is six years older than me. Chris had been going to kick ass heavy metal concerts from around the time I was 10, and I had always pleaded with my mother to let me go with her, but I was always denied permission. Now the day had finally arrived and I was excited, even though we were only going to see Kim Mitchell. I was just happy to finally be attending a concert with my big sis and without my parents. It ended up being a crazy night, and at some point the fans started ripping strips of fresh grass off of the ground and tossing them in the air. When you looked up all you saw was sod and greens flying everywhere above head. By the end of the show the entire lawn of Kingswood had been reduced to dirt. It was quite the spectacle.

I never attended another concert at Kingswood until the year I graduated high school. I had been to many live shows by this point, but my musical tastes had changed drastically, and to be quite honest Kingswood never hosted any bands I was interested in, until they finally booked punk rock legends The Ramones in 1991. I went with John McCuish, Mike Chapman, Mike Myers, and Mike Stewart. The Ramones killed it that night, barely ever pausing to acknowledge the audience. As soon as a song ended one of the members would yell out "ONE TWO THREE FOUR" and they'd break right into the next song. They had recently released the album "Brain Drain" which I owned and loved, so it was nice to see them cover that material. John ended up buying a pair of Ramones boxer shorts, that ended up wet from the rain, which resulted in Ramones logos printed all over a friends white couch later that night.

That same summer another big tour was conceived in the vein of lollapalooza, it was called the mix and match tour, and it featured Sisters of Mercy,  Gang of Four, Warrior Soul, Public Enemy, and a new upcoming white New York rap group called Young Black Teenagers. Once again we were at Kingswood to partake in the festivities. It was an all day event that started in the afternoon and would last until the park closed. I wasn't really interested in any of the bands except for YBT and PE. Young Black Teenagers opened the show and I was pumped to see them. They didn't get the greatest reception from the crowd, but the handful of us who actually knew who they were, enjoyed their performance greatly. They also warmed up the audience in general for the long day of festivities that were ahead of us all. I was not shocked to see the Demon Barf crew there marking out for YBT just as I was.

The rest of the day was long and boring to me, having to sit through three bands that I had absolutely no interest in seeing. It would all be worth it to see the legendary Public Enemy perform. PE ended up getting on stage extremely late, as they had issues at the border. So many issues in fact that they would not allow Flava Flav into our beloved country. I was totally pissed that Chuck D did not have his sidekick and trusted hype man to his right. They still belted out the tunes with conviction and got the crowd pumped up. After their fourth song there was a shocking announcement over the PA system stating that it was 10pm and the park was now closing. The plug was pulled on PE and we were all instructed to evacuate the premises.

Rap music was huge at the time, and Public Enemy where at the forefront of political issues, anti-government, and freedom of speech. I for one had been very inspired by Chuck's lyrics over the years, and I assumed the same as others. When we were told leave I expected an uprising, perhaps even a riot, but nobody was on board with me to "Fight The Power" people just complied with what they were told to do like a bunch of mindless sheep.

I was really bummed out that the show had been cut so short, since PE were my favorite rap band at the time, but I was much more disappointed in the audience. With the rise of self awareness through hip hop, I expected an uprising from the crowd. It was the total opposite, and I really started to question how big of fans these people actually were. Nobody wanted to voice their disappointment, stand up for their rights, or fight to be honored with a performance they paid their had earned money to see. I suppose a lot of people just liked the music but never paid attention to the lessons and messages in Chuck's lyrics like I did. One thing was for sure, I was truly let down by these so called "rap fans" I was also very let down by Wonderland for not being the slightest bit lenient in giving us what we paid for. 

I vowed to never attend another concert at Kingswood ever again in my life, and thankfully they didn't book any substantial musical acts I was interested in. That was fine by me, as I didn't have to break my word or my promise to myself, which was much more important than any concert in the world...

Big Fuckin' Bender

In the summer of 92' my buddy Jay who lived in the farmhouse where "Woodstock 91" was held, decided he wanted to throw another epic party. Woodstock 91' was by far the biggest bash anyone had ever seen in Brampton, but Jay wanted to go even bigger this time. Our planning committee was gathered together once again to brainstorm what could potentially be the event of our lifetimes. 

We frequently used the word "bender" in substitute for the word "party" so we collectively came up with the name "BIG FUCKIN' BENDER" for our planned party. Unlike Woodstock 91' that was spawned on the fly a few days before the event, we had started planning this one about a month in advance. I was on flyer detail once again, and i delivered a great piece of art depicting the party with all my friends drawn in cartoon caricatures. The flyer was chock full of details and a map to the old farmhouse on McVean Drive. We did our usual guerrilla marketing techniques and distributed hundreds, possibly thousands of flyers all around town. Parking lots, malls, strip joints, you name it. 

The month passed by and it was finally time for the BFB, needless to say we were all very excited. A bunch of us packed into Jerry's pickup truck with our alcohol and party favours, and we were on our way. When we arrived, we were quite shocked to see a massive police roadblock stationed in front of Jay's house. When we pulled up the cops simply stated "There is no party. Drive away now or we will confiscate all of your alcohol and fine you" Without saying a word or  skipping a beat we drove off.

We were all dumbfounded, we didn't see this coming, but we weren't going to let the pigs ruin our fun. We drove a block north, then headed one block east until we were fairly parallel with the property. We parked the truck at the side of a country road, collected all of our goods, and started tracking through acres of trees and cornfields until we finally reached the house. A few of our friends had done the same thing, or they were fortunate enough to have arrived earlier than the police did. There only ended up being about 12-20 of us that actually made it to the property. We had been bested by Peel Regions finest, who remained stationed in front of the house scaring off hundreds of party goers for the next few hours to come.

Jay had rented a massive sound system, so we cranked the tunes as loud as possible, while we drank and smoked and partied on. Some LSD managed to find it's way into a few of the guys systems, and things started to get a bit wild. Despite the pigs shutting down the party, the small group of us carried on like it was no big deal, but deep down we were all quite disappointed that the kaybosh had been put on the bender.

The farmhouse was on private property, so every time we got slightly bored we would take a stroll down to the property line and taunt the police. We were name calling, dancing in front of them, and generally being a nuisance towards them. Since they ruined our fun we figured we might as well make their night hell for them too. At some point, one of my friends ended up on the roof of the house in an acid fueled rage. He proceeded to start ripping shingles off the roof of the house and was throwing them at the police like frisbees while screaming obscenities at full volume. The beauty to all of this was the fact the police could do nothing about or words or actions.

The small group of us whooped it up all night. I had the unfortunate ness of learning one of my friends was using needles. I was quite distressed by this as I had always been against the use of hard drugs, but I tried not to think about it too much and focused on enjoying the night, which was slowly turning to morning. As the sun started to rise we gathered our things and started the trek back to Jerry's truck.

It was foggy, it was raining, and the sun hadn't came up yet. We were all clearly very intoxicated as we could not find our way back to the truck. My friend Noel ended up stepping in a hole of some sort and broke his ankle. Now two friends had to support him and help him walk through the wet wastelands. A lot of the guys were still tripping out, and it felt like we were in a war zone like Viet Nam or something, carrying our injured soldier along to safety. At one point James took off one of his shoes, and we broke out into an impromptu game of football using a sneaker for pigskin. It was an absolute riot and we were all having a blast.

We eventually made it to the truck which felt like hours later, but in the quest our group had became divided. There was a debate about which direction was the proper one to take, which resulted in us splitting into two factions and going our separate ways. Thankfully our group was the one to make it to the vehicle. As we started rolling out, we drove about half a mile down the road when suddenly something demanded our attention. The second group of "survivors" jumped out of the woods and onto the road right in front of us to flag us down. Jerry screeched on the brakes and the boys jumped in the back of the truck, which thankfully had a cab on it to protect us from the elements.

We ended up going to McDonalds for breakfast before heading home to bed, and needless to say we were a sight for sore eyes. We were all coming down from the night so we were still pretty wired, and the lot of us were covered in mud from head to toe and were soaked to the bone from the rain. We ate, carried on, had some laughs, reminisced the night, then headed to our respectful dwelling places to sleep it off.

Although the police ruined the whole event, we still didn't let that stop us from having a good time. In retrospect it was of our own doing since we had spammed the city with masses of flyers a month prior to the event. The police had everything they needed to shut it down, and one can't really blame them for doing their jobs. Needless to say the "BIG FUCKIN' BENDER" wasn't so big at all, and it paled in comparison to Woodstock 91', but we made the best of it and filled ourselves with fond memories and bonds of friendship...

Bung-Ho!

There was a serious musical masterpiece I've neglected to mention that definitely deserves it's own post. In January of 1992 on my 19th birthday, I received a few gifts from Derek in the form of compact discs. One was "LIE" the album Charles Manson recorded before he ended up going to prison. I had heard a dub of it before that Derek had, but I was absolutely stoked he had found me an actually cd copy. The recordings mainly consisted of very bizarre folk music, which generally isn't my thing, but this was Charlie Manson!!! Anyone who knows me should understand my excitement. I've always had a fascination with horror, the macabre, and serial killers, Chuck being at the top of my list.

However it was the other cd Derek got me that really had me stoked, and would change my opinions and perspectives on the structure of music and song writing forever, the cd in question was "Mr.Bungle" The self titled cd had been released in 1991, and I had my eyes on it for months, which Derek clearly paid attention too. Mr.Bungle was the high school band of new Faith No More frontman Mike Patton. They had released four demos in the late 80s, which caught the attention of FNM guitarist Jim Martin, who recruited Patton as the bands new vocalist.

I was so pumped to finally hear this album after months of anticipation. I popped the disc in my stereo, slapped on the headphones, and busted out the lyric sheet. Right from the get go I was taken back. I really didn't know how I felt about it. The musical structure was all over the place, rarely ever returning to parts you heard previously in the song. They also covered many musical genres within the confines of one song, and there were tons of samples from movies and old video games. 

The album was produced by John Zorn, an infamous experimental jazz legend, who better than to be the lead engineer on such a wacky project. The vocals were also all over the map, ranging from singing to screaming to growling to rapping to whispering and so on. I was completely baffled at how these guys had pulled this off. I couldn't quite fathom how they even learned to play their songs considering they were intensely structured and really had no rhyme or reason to them.

The more I listened to it, the more it grew on me, and my two favorite songs ended up being "The Girls of Porn" and "Love is a Fist" It was clearly impossible to categorize these guys. One could easily cop out and say it's "Funk Metal" but it was truly so much more. They literally covered almost every genre of music, most times within one song. As I got more familiar with their music, the songs started to make sense to me. I started learning where the changes were, and after awhile they just played out to me like any other normal song would. But they were far from normal. Anytime I played it for a friend, you could instantly see the look of confusions come over their faces.

The bottom line was these guys had some serious talent, and they had put out a truly unique one of a kind album here. Vocalist Mike Patton had beef with Red Hot Chili Peppers front man Anthony Kiedis, who claimed Patton bit his style. Mr.Bungle were making waves and had been asked to play numerous musical festivals that the Chilis were on, but Kiedis pulled some strings and had Bungle removed from said festivals.

Mike used Mr.Bungle as another outlet to lash back at Kiedis. The band played a live festival on Halloween in Detroit and announced themselves as RHCP, they even introduced the band members using names of Chili Peppers members. They went as far as to cover some of their songs too, with Patton purposely sabotaging the lyrics. They also poked fun at heroin use, which took the life of the Chili's first guitarist Hillel Slovak. Some might see this as a low blow, but the fact Kiedis' personal vendetta caused him to use schoolyard antics (we won't play your show if they play your show) was really a childish and vulgar display of power, since they could draw huge crowds and promoters wanted to cash in on that. It's almost as if he was threatened by the band, who I personally think were much more talented then RHCP.

Mr.Bungle were also infamous for their live performances, each member dressed in various costumes to conceal their identities. I believe the mystique of them made the band that much more enjoyable. They even went as far as to use aliases as opposed to their actual names. Years later a band called SlipKnot would emerge, who in my opinion blatantly ripped of Mr.Bungle, but they were definitely a second rate imitation at best.

The first image I saw of the band captivated me, the fact they didn't care if anyone know their identities impressed me. Clearly they were all about the music and not the fame, an admirable quality to say the least. The artwork in the cd book also fascinated me, images of what appeared to be an alcoholic clown struck by tragedy every which way he turned. I never did have the pleasure of seeing them live, but a few of my friends did and they collectively agreed it was an incredible experience.

The band really opened my mind musically, especially to the world of jazz, which they dabbled quite a bit into. Mr.Bungle had earned a spot in my top ten most important bands of all time list. They were truly a one of a kind and brought something to the table no one else had prior to them. 

My anticipation for a follow up album was off the charts, I just didn't know how long I'd be waiting...

Unsane Unsung

Everywhere I turned it seemed incredible things were developing and unfolding around the scene, not just for Grasshopper, but for a lot of the bands we had became friends with and were gigging with regularly. Derek had turned me onto yet another new band, two of them for that matter, "Unsane" and "Helmet" 

Unsane were from New York, and they were a very heavy and intense band, they were also only a three piece, but they rocked that shit. Their album cover was really cool too, an image of an unfortunate person who apparently was decapitated by a train. It was a very extreme image, so naturally I was instantly attracted to it.

Unsane were coming to play Toronto, so of course we got tickets, but what made it even cooler was that our buddies The Satanatras were going to be the opening act. We were very excited for our friends, and equally excited to see Unsane live. To be quite honest I don't even remember what club the show was at, but both bands kicked an extreme amount of ass. The most impressive part for me however, was the drummer of Unsane.  His name was Charlie, and he was a very quiet eccentric type, somewhat resembling Tiny Tim. I'm talking about the musician, not the character from the classic Christmas story.

Charlie played a jazz kit, which was very small. A kick drum, snare drum, one tom, and a floor tom. However Chuck rocked that kit like I had never seen. The sound and force he omitted was equal to that of Rush's Neil Pert and his 30 plus piece drum kit. It was truly inspiring to see someone get such a huge sound from such a small kit. I was absolutely blown away by him.

Our Satanatra friends ended up getting us backstage at the show, so we got to meet, party, and hang out with Unsane. With the exception of Charlie, they were really cool friendly guys, especially the singer/guitarist Chris, who had taken a strong liking to our Canadian narcotics. We partied until the wee hours of the morning, then it was time to head out. Someone mentioned that both bands were playing in London the next night and that we should come out for the show. 12 hours later we were in London Ontario, re-experiencing the whole event once more, and once again partying backstage with the band. And yes, once again Charlie blew my mind. I don't even think I put eyes on either of the other band members during the entire set. We smoked and drank backstage until the club owner kicked us out. It was another amazing night under my rock n' roll belt.

Not long after this we learned some sad and tragic news, Chuck had died from a heroine overdose, and we were devastated. So were his band mates needless to say. It was very unjust for them, at the peak of their career, to lose a brother. They decided to look for another drummer after the grieving was done, then carried on as a band. I never knew Chuck was into Heroin, nor did I know anyone who had ever tried it, but looking back it made sense why he was so quiet and kept to himself. I was sad so see such an incredibly talented drummer taken from this planet before he even got his full due.

In the meantime (pun fully intended) the band Helmet were blowing up with their new single "Unsung" from their second album "Meantime" We had previously enjoyed their first release "Strap It On" and the new album did not disappoint one bit. However, the first time I heard "Unsung" I immediately proclaimed they had ripped off Pantera. Derek seemed to despise any type of "Metal" that had guitar solos which he called "wanking" so he immediately dismissed my statement. After all, Indy rock bands were so much cooler right? Why would they need to rip off a metal band right? Not like they grew up listening to rock and metal right? Wrong.

The next day I had a new mixtape ready for the ride to Toronto, and you guessed it, the first song on the mix was "Rise" by Pantera. I didn't say a word as it played, just watched Derek's facial expressions in my prerefferal view. There was no denying the riffs were one in the same, Pantera having written theirs first. Was it coincidence or plagiarism? One could only speculate. Either way I loved both bands and both songs, and still do. 

It wasn't long before Helmet rolled into town to perform live, and you know we had to go check it out. They were on the bill with Bad Religion, who I was familiar with but wasn't a die hard fan of. I was more into the hardcore punk at the time and was blatantly ignorant to most forms of punk music that had actual melodic singing and not rabid screaming and growling. They still rocked the roof of the place, and I grew to love them. The place in question was the Spectrum Club on the Danforth, and I don't think I had been there since seeing Epileptic Brain Surgeons open for Day-Glo Abortions. 

Helmet were really solid in concert. It's always impressive when a band can sound just like their record when they are performing live. It's also always more pleasurable when one is familiar with all the music a band has released, so all in all I enjoyed Helmet more than Bad Religion, although Bad Religion made a new fan out of me that night.

The real highlight for me on that particular evening however, was the local opening act that performed first. They were a newer band to the scene called "Trigger Happy" and I was totally stoked to see Mark from "Missing Link" and Al from "Deep End" on stage in front of me. Deep End were on Epidemic Records with E.B.S., but they had recently disbanded, and from the ashes rose Trigger Happy. I wasn't familiar with their music at all, but I was so pumped and full of energy that I was banging about through the pit like a mad man.

This was all so surreal to me back at this point in history. I was still fairly young and it was inspiring and impressive to see all my friends and the people around me doing so well in the Canadian music industry, which at the time was next to impossible to break into if you weren't a radio friendly top 10 pop band. 

There was really no telling where some of us might go...

UPDATE 07/10/2014

Greetings readers! I haven't done a general update in awhile so I figured I would touch base with you all. First and foremost I'd like to wish you all a safe and happy summer. Speaking of summer, if you haven't noticed my posts have been a tad bit scarce, which is an annual trend if you've been following this blog since it's inception. I tend to not write very much during the summer, as I am just too damn busy enjoying it.

I have had the privilege of spending much more time with my son since school has been out, so sacrifices must be made...even at the expense of this blog. Fear not however, the posts will become more frequent as August comes to a close. I'm loving all the extra time with my little man to say the least.

On the musical front I seem to be in somewhat of a rut. The year started off very strong. I was working on the new album as well as tracks for my second mixtape. Mach Spitz and myself were working on our Street Trash project. On top of that I was partaking in yet another side project Godzilla Monsoon, AND I was also working on tracks for Prince Pauly's upcoming mixtape The Man They Could Not Hang.

If you recall, my external hard drive crashed earlier this year and I lost everything I had been working on. I am still hoping to recover all the lost data, but only money and time will tell. I also suffered serious problems with my computers, which has also put a damper on the situation. All of this has caused me to not put forth any musical contributions as of late. I have been continuing to write songs and ideas in the meantime, so once the wheels are turning again you can expect an onslaught of new material.

Until then, I thank you for your understanding and patience...now get out there and grab summer by the horns and make it your bitch! Cheers... K

Born Winners

It had been an amazing year for Grasshopper, and an incredible summer packed to the gills of performances and partying. Our demo was almost sold out and we were gearing up to do another run of 500 with our profit money, after paying back our initial investor of course. William New, who ran the 1150 club, had become very impressed with us, to the point where we never paid for drinks and he allowed us access to the bowels of the club, where we could smoke peacefully and safely in privacy.

In fact Wiilie was so impressed with the turnout of fans we were bringing into his club that he made us a sweet offer. He offered us a gig a week for an entire month straight, that would see us as the headliners with our choice of opening acts. He also gave us any day of the week to pick, and we settled on Thursdays. I'm not sure how we came to a mutual agreement of that, but none the less, for the next 30 days every Thursday would be "Grasshopper Thursday" 

It was a success and we packed the 1150 full of people every Thursday. The most rewarding part was getting to select the bands we wanted to play with. Derek seemed to want to control all the choices, but Mike and I convinced him we were at least entitled to book one show each, to which he caved in and agreed. I really don't remember who chose what bands, but I do know 100% that Demon Barf was my number one choice, much to Derek's disapproval. I really didn't give a shit, these guys were my friends, they were good people, and they deserved a chance to gain exposure down in the city. I really can't recall the night very well but I know it was full of rock n roll hijinks and good times. The Epileptic Brain surgeons even came to see us perform, as Steve Waller was down visiting from B.C. It felt great to be performing in front of my inspirational idols, and I smashed the skins with the greatest conviction possible.

Phleg Camp was a Toronto band that Derek admired, respected, and looked up to, so naturally they were one of his picks. They were a three piece like us with a dreadlocked singer/guitarist, but they were definitely a different caliber of musicians. Their rhythm section consisting of Sean Dean on bass and Gavin on drums, were hands down one of the most cohesive rhythm sections I had ever seen in my life. They were also really friendly, cool guys, and through them we met an independent film maker named Kevin Brownfellow. Kevin showed great interest in making a music video for Grasshopper, and all it would cost us would be the price of film. We agreed, and within a week or two the project was a go.

We ran our ideas past Kev, but ultimately we gave him creative control. There were a few specific images we wanted included in the video, such as cameos from The Beastie Boys and Grover from Sesame Street. Mr.Brownfellow informed us that it was illegal to do such, but there was a great loophole he told us about. If he filmed said characters off of a playing television set, the footage was fair game to use in our video. Kevin came to a few of our live shows to get footage, and we went out for a walk one day on the beaches of Toronto to film some more stuff. We came across a large wooden cross sticking out of the ground, so Kev had an idea to film Derek looking like Jesus on the cross, while the sun set behind him in the distance. Mike and I held him up by his feet, how ironic I thought, the backbone of the band supporting the face of the band, just like on stage.

The video turned out great and we were all very happy with it. Kevin sent it off to MuchMusic and we impatiently played the waiting game to see if our video would end up in the rotation, and it eventually did. It felt amazing to watch my own band's music video on television for the first time. I can't even find the words to describe how I felt, but it was almost like a dream. 

As our video started getting more rotation on "The Wedge" another film maker from my past would soon re-enter the picture...

http://youtu.be/S9PI0LA_Ewc

"BORN LOSER" Music Video

Din Of The Week

As the proverbial ball kept rolling, things just seemed to keep getting bigger and brighter for us. We were pretty much gigging once or twice a week now and it didn't look like things were going to slow down. Mike C was getting a bit overwhelmed with our busy schedule, as he still had two jobs back in Brampton, and our shows were starting to conflict with his occupations. Mainly at CIAO radio where Mike started around 6am on Sundays. I can't recall how many out of town gigs we played, followed up with a night of partying, and then the hectic rush to get Mike to work on time. It was getting taxing for him and that was becoming apparent as he made no bones about voicing his opinion. 

In fact we were both becoming quite opinionated. Grasshopper was Derek's baby, but Mike and I were clearly the mid-wives, and we had started to speak up about issues we had within the band. It was easy to see that our speaking out was starting to get under Derek's skin and made him uneasy, kind of an uprising of power if you will. Mike and I were on the same page about a lot of stuff which left Derek outvoted two to one. We wanted some changes and we wanted them now. Derek did oblige most times, but reluctantly, and usually after a debate on whatever the matter at hand was.

With our demo out, our over saturation of live shows going down, and our stickers and shirts blanketing the city, the little band that could kept flowing with the momentum. We had played shows with an assortment of bands including: Boris is Back, The Mad, The Morganfields, Satanatras, Y.A.P., Goatdance, Squid, Land of Nod, Full, Groovy Religion, Mudfish, Phleg Camp, Paul Myers(Brother of actor Mike Myers) The Dave Howard Singers, Chicken Milk, hHead, Rocktopus, Snowdogs, Drive Like Jehu, Grim Skunk, Brian Ruryk, and Dinner is Ruined, just to name a few.

Meanwhile in Brampton the legendary Epileptic Brain Surgeons were coming to an end. Their lead singer Steve Waller had decided to pack up and move out west to Brittish Columbia. I was quite saddened by the news, as these guys had been my inspiration for the last 5 years. The guys did however give me the pleasure of jamming with them once after Steve moved, with me filling his vocal duties. It was fun as hell and the EBS boys couldn't get over how much I sounded like Steve. It never went anywhere after that first jam but it was an absolute honour and privilege to have taken part in it. The guys seemed taken back at the fact that I mimicked Steve's voice perfectly. Although for years after I couldn't help but wonder that if I had my own distinct sound and style, then perhaps the band may have carried on with yours truly as the front man. Wishful thinking.

Another Bramptonite entered the picture as well. His name was Alex and he was a journalist for Eye weekly. Alex had recently written a review for our "Born Loser" demo that we were all ecstatic about. We didn't know who this guy was but we appreciated his words. Then one night he showed up at one of our gigs at the 1150. We were surprised to see he was a short, rotund black man wearing flannel and a Philly Blunts hat. We praised his writing as much as he praised our music. Alex was a very genuinely nice person, and he slowly became apart of our entourage. Now he'd show up at practically every gig, whoop it up with us, and then return to Brampton with us in the wee hours of the night. 

We figured having a writer on our side who was apart of the EYE magazine team would only be beneficial towards us, and it definitely seemed that way. As time passed though it seemed like Alex was slipping into a whirlwind of alcohol and pot, which in turn was affecting his writing. I truly feel he liked hanging out with us so he could be in the spotlight and soak up a bit of our fame. Not too mention he overly indulged in all the free benefits that coincided with rolling with the G-Hoppaz. Eventually it got to the point where he came across as a spokesman for us, being very opinionated about things that we disagreed with, which in turn caused friction amongst us. We had our own minds, our own voices, and we were not going to let ourselves look bad because of some stupid drunken comments. It also got to the point where we felt like Alex didn't care about us as a band, he'd merely show up drunk to wherever we were playing just so he could get a ride home at the end of the night.

As much as we liked Alex and appreciated his contributions to helping spread our gospel, we slowly started distancing ourselves after realizing his personal motives. I felt bad, I missed the guy, but we had to focus on ourselves and get our priorities straight. I feared that if Alex carried on with his recreational ways, that they would take over his life and ruin his bright future as a journalist. I could only hope that my fears would not manifest...