It’s never an easy to leave Montreal. ever. here’s a song that reminds me of those days…
Mind the messy hair, I just had an “I don’t care” moment… Hahaha…. *sigh…
Watching Corpusse
Corpusse, Jaash and I
I like to keep an open mind. Anyone would have to if they want to understand why a large man with evil clown makeup painted on is bellowing out random thoughts over a droning synth on stage. They call Coprusse the “Leonard Cohen of Punk Rock Music”.
While watching him at Mitzi Sister last Tuesday, I could hear people asking their friends, “Is this a joke? Is this guy for real?”
Corpusse said in an interview once that his act should be taken for what it is. To me its an explosion of raw human emotion on stage. He bursts out occasionally into these operatic belts while passionately rambling phrases without any inhibition. It can also be puzzling. There is this one bit he does where he takes out a hammer and bangs it on the floor and says, “WAKE UP NEIGHBOUR! WAKE UP SUSAN SARANDON!”. Combine this with his long hair glued up right two feet high into a cone, and imaginitive props and decorations and you get a show. He’s been doing this for 20 years, and clearly puts a lot of works into it. Whatever you make of him, no one can disagree on his passion. And for that I respect him.
Check out his myspace at http://www.myspace.com/corpusse
Also, this video might lend insight to this “one-of-a-kind performer and mythological figure on the Canadian artistic landscape”:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0Bf8Drb2Ig&hl=en_US&fs=1&]
Who is this shameless clown?
(A facebook note that I wrote)
So I get a facebook “friend” request from a random dude who is in the network of T.dot musicians I have been tangled into lately. Not the type to start burning bridges before making them, I begrudgingly ‘accepted’ this request and wrote a funny little message to him about making his acquaintance in the real world some day (messaged through e-mail, not on his wall).
I thought nothing of it, and continued on with my life. But then the facebook invites began flooding into my account. I can appreciate getting updated with the happening’s of the local music scene, but I don’t like when friendship starts off with shameless self-promotion. It makes me feel kinda… used.
Not the type to crack under life’s small blows, I moved on. Then the other day I get a request to…. HIS FAN PAGE! What… The … Kazoo?!
I spared no second into rejecting it. The audacity of some people! “FAN!”?! I don’t even know the freakin’ guy!
So if you are that guy, just apologize and I will forgive you and perhaps our friendship will be saved.
Oh and since it is so trendy to self-promote, I will not limit this tale to my facbeook friends, I will broadcast it on the WORLD WIDE WEB! That’s right. You can read this story and more on my blog, http://www.vansooz.wordpress.com .
A conversation with a stranger
Today I was walking along the Annex, from a block away all I could hear was a wayyyy OUT OF TUNE guitar. OH my. I had to step in.
“Excuse me, can I tune your guitar?”
“Sure!” exclaimed the poofy blonde haired relic from the 60’s.
As I was tuning it up she felt compelled to tell her life story.
“I used to play a lot of shows back in the day and my boyfriend would tune up the guitar. I just got this guitar not too long ago. My son bought it for me,”
“Oh that was nice of him.” (maybe it might make the story more vivid if I mention it was a pretty cheap guitar, which would explain why it would keep falling out of tune.)
She continued, “yea and he bought it for me and said, ‘Mom, now you can go busking’ and here I am,”
“That’s awfully nice,”
And so she began strumming away at the guitar again. I peeked into her case and saw a toonie and a few quarters.
I thought nothing of it and went into Sobey’s. When I came out she was gone. I then saw her walking around with her boyfriend. No guitar playing. It was tuned for nothing. Or maybe she was taking a break.
Singing in the Subway
To make a banal commute interesting, I sing to myself. The unwritten rules of public etiquette preaches this to be unacceptable, but after giving this much thought I decided to go with my instinct. My mp3 player turns on and I can’t resist the urge to chirp away, and why can’t I?
If I enjoy singing I should be able to sing, its not a privilege exclusively for loonie people. If the only consequence is a crowd of strangers ignoring and judging me like they would anyway, so be it. I live for me, not for people I will never see again.
People bring many disturbances to the public realm as it already is, including pesky sales pitches, obnoxiously loud cellphone chatting, cellphone rings, smells, and so on. To put up with all that and remain quiet is a TALL order, I need to go into my zone and do what I got to do, or else I’ll really go crazy. Besides, no one has complained about the singing so far.
And I also meet interesting people along the way. A few weeks ago I met a guy who wanted to know what song I was singing while I was waiting 10 minutes at the subway platform… (and I must say by the way the acoustics at the subway are amazing, I just love the echo). The song was “Sweet Surrender” by Sarah McLachlan (don’t laugh). So the guy then tells me, “Oh man, I had the most WEIRDEST weekend of MY LIFE!”. Indeed it was a very strange story he needed to get off his chest involving an after hours club, the mafia, an invitation to a super luxurious condo, and a thick envolope full of Euros, Pounds, and American and Canadian dollar bills. I can only imagine why he decided to open up his life to me. Perhaps maybe my singing was an icebreaker, adding personality from a public crowd that often feels anonymous and apathetic.
Today another guy at the subway comes up to me and asks me what song I’m singing. (I must confess, it was “Sweet Surrender” again). This guy politely introduces himself to me… and get this… he is blond and PERSIAN! I never met a blond Persian person, I heard of them, but never seen them! Very interesting. I told him about my show at the Bread and Circus next week and he said he would come. What an interesting way to promote music!
Even the subway conductor digs my style! The dude asked me to come sit at the seat beside his operational booth and begged me to just sit through an entire subway lap when I got to my stop. I couldn’t unfortunately! I was in such a hurry I forgot to tell him about my show and website. Oh well.
So you see folks, the world of music brings colour to our bland existence, and nothing leads me to believe otherwise!