I can’t believe I was in the same room as
the Chump. It’s been a big rocking year for the old man. I saw Sarah Harmer in February
(opened by the CBC propped up and badly managed Nathan Wiley – needs to meet more kids
his own age who play instruments), then Elvis Costello in
summer, Sloan two
months ago whose opening act was Boy (whose name makes them almost
ungooglable) and now this.
Weeping Tile in 1996 with Sarah’s sister Mary (left) then on bass
Sarah Harmer and her old band
Weeping Tile do a Christmas benefit for the Sally Ann every year. Luther Wright was the MC and we
were sitting next to his granny. It was an all ages thing so there were teens
and grannies all over the place. This is the eighth and had, as an opening act,
Oh Susanna, one of the strongest
voices I have ever witnessed – one of those like you wouldn’t want to be in a
bad relationship with her kind of voices. She sang “Go Tell It On the Mountain”
backed by Weeping Tile. The other two acts were interesting. Jay Harris was good if only for the things
he was doing to that poor steel guitar. The tastebuds were challenged, however,
by The Dave Hodge Experiece, which you kinds got the feeling was made up for the
show. Drums, fender guitar, fender bass and a frontman (Dave Hodge) playing a
casio one note keyboard with an electric fireplace in front of him. It was kind
of nerdy, high voiced, elementary school Gang of Four
without the catchy stuff. Good humoured though. It was a great evening – we had
to cut out about 11 pm to pick up the kiddies, so missed much of the Weeping
Tile Set – Sarah music then was as dark as it is lithe now, lyrics as gritty.
Dandy.
The Dave Hodge Experience reminded me of a band playing at an early ’80’s
show at the UKC
pit impressarioed by Gillian McCain,
whose web bio seems to delete the Kings years. At that show, when I
suggested, perhaps too loudly, that a certain keyboard player sucked, I received
the wrath that only a New Brunswick french fry princess steeped in new wave and punk
knowledge could unleash. It was an envigourating moment. In the
middle of the night during my campus police shifts, I used to read her cool,
rare and expensive new wave / punk ‘zines that came in the college mail.