Robson Rants

Like most kids, most of my early life I took for granted that my grandfather would just always be around. When he was gone, it was about the saddest thing I could imagine. The funny thing is that as is so often the case, I appreciated him so much more after he was gone than I did when he was always around. I guess it is true that you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.

When he died, I was very sad, but the truth of the matter is that by that point, my life didn’t change all that much. I was pretty independent and wrapped up in my own things by that point, so nothing really changed. Until Christmas, that was. Christmas was always his big thing; it was always important to him that everyone was around, and everyone participated in family rituals. After he was gone, Christmas was just never the same, and Christmas was when I really started to miss having him around. It took a few years to adjust to Christmas again and settle into new rituals.

Tonight I felt a similar sense of loss and longing. Since his untimely death earlier this year, I’ve been mourning Willie P Bennett, but because I’ve listened to him so much since then, I’ve never really had to miss him; he was still there whenever I needed him. There are many times when only his words can hit the spot, and thankfully, there are so many left behind, and they’ll stay with me for the rest of my life.

I’ve thought many times about the sad, sad fact that I’ll never see Willie again. For years I’ve longed to see a full Willie concert, but because I never had the chance, I guess I’ll never know what I was missing. But tonight Fred Eaglesmith came to town, and it was my first time seeing him live since we lost Willie. I’ve been a huge Fred Eaglesimth fan for almost a decade, and I take nothing away from Fred’s talent, charm, or appeal, but I’d say that an equal part of the magic of seeing Fred and following him was keeping tabs on Willie and getting to see him. He brought things to a Fred show that made it out of the ordinary, and they’re things that can never be replaced. Sadly, they’re things that I can never experience live again.

Whenever I went to see Fred, I’d always try to sit on Willie’s side of the stage, I’d cheer like crazy when he was introduced, and, as I saw more shows and got to know the songs and arrangements better, I’d wait eagerly for those moments when I knew Willie was going to add his mandolin, harmonica, or amazing voice to the songs. Those were always the moments that made the show for me. I’ve seen Fred solo before, and it just wasn’t the same for me; sure, it was fun, but it only served to make me appreciate Willie more, and look forward to seeing him again. (I think that, among all other things is why I’ll never warm up to Dusty. A Fred album without Willie just isn’t complete.)

The more I got into Willie, the bigger his legacy loomed for me. For me, he really was a god that I could only worship from afar. I knew that many people really knew Willie, and I knew that he was just an ordinary guy with an absolutely extraordinary talent, but to me, he was so much more. His songs move me and resonate within me perhaps more than those of any other writer, and I listen to a lot of songwriters. Something about those songs, that music, those words, and that voice have made Willie the lifelong friend that I never even really knew.

I always wanted to know more about Willie, and my biggest ambition was always to have him on my radio show and find out more about him. I thought many times about trying to get to know him better, but I was hugely intimidated by him, and I guess I was kind of afraid to find out that my ideas and expectations were unrealistic. I guess that’s why the first time I got Willie’s autograph, I had to get someone else to get my record signed (which probably explains why it says “To Geff”)

I guess in the end I’m glad that I never pulled back that curtain to reveal the true wizard, because the larger than life image in my mind is probably so much more fun.

Knowing that I was going to see Fred live caused some anxiety, and it caused me to start thinking about Willie more, and what things would be like. I know Fred’s been touring without Willie for quite a while now, but I’ve never seen, or even heard a show since that point. I know there’s a new player and the set’s been worked out and the shows are Fredhead approved, but you can never really judge something until you experience it for yourself. I wondered what the songs would be like. Would the new guy be trying to fill Willie’s shoes, or have the songs and arrangements changed since then? Only being there would tell.

I felt kind of uneasy going in and sitting down. It was kind of like a first date after the breakup of an important relationship; you know you want to try it again, but you know it won’t be the same, and you have to learn to try again. I was expecting things to be different, but I know that there’s much more to a Fred show than just Willie, so I knew that it wouldn’t be a disaster, but there was still something difficult about it.

It was especially interesting to go with my future wife, who had never seen Willie, or Fred, before. I got to experience Fred for the first time again through her eyes, and I suppose that helped me to remember what it is about Fred himself and his songs and his show that I loved so much in the beginning.

But I tell you, there were plenty of times in the show when all I could think about was Willie. I was having fun, but I was also very sad, and feeling a sense of loss and longing that I hadn’t really felt in a very long time. The first song was hard, but Codeine was, ironically, the most painful. Although as I said, Dusty has never really won me over, Willie’s part in that song stole the show the first time I saw him do it, and it’s lived within me ever since. And tonight, more than any other, the sounds are keeping me up in the night.

It’ll take a while for me to adjust to life without Willie, because seeing Fred in concert will never be the same, and it will always make me think of him, but he left so much behind, and that won’t ever change. Fred’s got a great new band and a wonderful show still, and I have more respect for him than ever because, to my knowledge, for the first time in his career, he’s doing a cover almost every night. Tonight he finished off with “Country Squall,” and it kind of gave me the closure I needed, because it showed that Willie is still a huge part of the show; that moment is an acknowledgement that he is still there, and he’s still important, even though we all have to move on in his absence.

Music has a power over me that I’m not sure I could accurately describe. I’ve always been a bit of a loner and keep very few close friends. I’m accustomed to spending great amounts of time by myself. Some people are able to find a constant friend in religion. I’ve got faith, but the thought of someone, somewhere, far away never really comforted me as much as I’d like. Music is the only magical force that’s been able to soothe my soul and keep me going through the darkest places.

I grew up on music like many others, but that was the pop music of the day and whatever cool stuff my parents happened to have around. I had some pretty rough patches in my childhood when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me or why things had to be the way they were. My only retreat from that sometimes was going into my room and playing my records. I’d started to seek out some good music thanks to a few very knowledgeable people in my life, and the little bits on the radio that were new and interesting. I started to sit in my room and pretend that I was on the radio, playing sets of music that I wanted to share. I’d put together upbeat sets when I was going out or having a good day. I’d put together strange sets when I was bored. But all too often, I put together sad, melancholy sets when things seemed bleak. No matter how sad the set, I’d find comfort in the music.

I had favourite artists that really connected with me for one reason or another. Looking back, I’m not sure what it was about some that really drew me in. One of the artists that I obsessed over for a long time was Stevie Ray Vaughan. His music was rough and rockin’ and somehow different than the other stuff out there. Since then, and through him, I’ve learned what the blues is all about. For a few years of my youth, he was the greatest musician alive, to me.

And then he died.

I remember when I first heard that there’d been an accident. It was exactly two months after my 16th birthday. Initially I was told that it was Eric Clapton’s band that died. Being a big follower of Clapton and Stevie Ray, I knew that they were playing together and I wished I could have been there. Sad, I thought, because I loved Clapton’s band. I didn’t know who it was that died, but I went home and tried to find out if it was anyone that I knew of. It was only then that I found out that Stevie was on board. I remember feeling like someone had punched me in the stomach. I remember being so stunned that I couldn’t really feel any kind of sadness or loss. Until I started to hear his music on the reports, and I had time to think about what it meant. He was without a doubt the artist that I most wanted to see live in concert, and when I thought about the fact that I’d never get my chance, I cried. There were many tears that day and in the days that followed. I didn’t really talk about how sad I was. I just listened to a lot of his music. The songs and that voice and his guitar touched me. I knew that they always would, but it saddened me that I’d never hear what he could do next.

I guess I’ve been lucky, because in the past 18 years, I haven’t felt that way when a musician died. Sure, there have been some losses, but nothing like that day.

Until today.

I wasn’t having a good day as it was. Lots of stuff going on in my world is making things kind of stressful. But none of that matters now, because the news came today that the man whom I believe to be the greatest Canadian songwriter of all time, Willie P Bennett, has died. It hurts me to write that, because for me, Willie is a larger than life icon who will never truly die.

In the early 90s, I found out what real music was when I attended my first Winnipeg Folk Festival. The first full day I was there, I first heard a guy named Stephen Fearing. He was brilliant and amazing, and I could not believe that I’d never heard of him before. I became an instant fan, and immediately started to seek out other great artists that I was missing out on. Fearing has remained one of my favourites, and he’s also become a trusted source of musical advice. He’s quick to point out people who have inspired and amazed him, and every time I’ve heard him mention a name, I’ve become a fan of that artist. I’m pretty sure the first one, however, was the most important.

I remember seeing Stephen in concert at the West End Cultural Centre, in I guess 1996 or so, and he did a song called “The Lucky Ones.” He said it was by a guy named Willie P Bennett, and that he and a couple of friends had recently recorded an album in his honour, and they were calling themselves Blackie & The Rodeo Kings. Well, I set out to find two albums immediately after that, the Blackie record, and something by Willie P Bennett. Blackie came out a while later, so it wasn’t hard to find. Willie’s music turned out to be somewhat more elusive. I couldn’t find an album by him in any store, and in that pre-internet age, there wasn’t really another option but to keep searching. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon a copy of “The Lucky Ones” in the bargain bin at Sam the Record Man for $6.99 a little while later. It’s still one of the greatest finds and bargains I’ve ever found, because the album is impossible to find, and it’s brilliant.

Some further digging netted me another couple of amazing finds after that. At Music Trader, I managed to get used copies of “Take My Own Advice” and a brilliant compilation called Collectibles (both of which, to this day, I’ve never seen anywhere else, even on Willie’s discography page). The latter is what I’d consider one of the finest collections of songs on the planet. Every single one of the 15 songs on it is powerful and amazing. I admit that it took me a bit of time to really grasp what it was about Willie’s songs that meant so much to me.

At first glance, Willie’s songs seem rather simplistic. They’re easy to understand and follow and the melodies are all instantly accessible. At first what dazzled me was the playing and singing more than the lyrics, because they seemed so simple, and somehow, we’re taught that the great works of art aren’t “easy” they take some interpretation. Rubbish. There are very few songwriters on the planet who can get straight to the heart with simple words and stories like Willie P.

The only other songwriter that I can really compare Willie to is Townes Van Zandt. He’s another one whose loss hit me hard, but I didn’t know of him until after he was gone. It was only after seeing a movie about him and really digesting his songs that the loss of his talent and power hit me. So it wasn’t the same.

Shortly after I discovered Willie, I discovered Fred Eaglesmith. I had no idea that there was any connection between the two at first, so imagine my surprise when I learned that the leader of Fred’s band was none other than Willie P. I was indeed shocked, because I figured Willie must be dead or hiding out crafting beautiful songs somewhere, not slugging it out in someone else’s band night after night. But there he was, adding mandolin, harmonica, and those powerful vocals to Fred’s songs, night after night. I started religiously going to Fred shows almost entirely out of devotion to the legend of Willie P Bennett. I always tried to sit on Willie’s side of the stage, and I always cheered my head off when Willie was introduced. It was at Fred’s shows that I first picked up Willie’s classic albums from the 70s, “Hobo’s Taunt,” “Tryin’ to Start out Clean,” and “Blackie and the Rodeo King.” I picked up “Heartstrings,” his superstar collaboration album when it first came out in 1998.

I always dreamed that someday, Fred would let Willie sing a song at one of those shows. Still to this day I can’t figure out how you can have Canada’s greatest songwriter on stage with you every night and not want to hear at least one of his songs. It boggles my mind. I’ve had trouble respecting Fred for a variety of reasons, but letting Willie be in the background for so many years is perhaps his greatest crime. Fred’s shows have become somewhat formulaic for me. They’re always good, but not a whole lot ever changes.

Except for a brief period in 2005, that is. Fred started doing this thing called “The Flying Squirrel Revue” where he showcased three amazing guys in his band, Dan Walsh, Roger Marin, and Willie P Bennett as an opening act of sorts. They came out and played together without Fred and each guy got to do about 3 of his own songs. I traveled all the way to Grand Forks to see that show. That was the first time I ever saw Willie live, and I could have listened to his three songs and drove all the way home a happy man. I wished that I could have heard much more, but the fact that I finally got to see and hear Willie live was a dream come true.

For years I didn’t have the nerve to talk to Willie. I’d ask people what he was like, but I didn’t believe that he was as approachable as they said. I actually asked someone to get one of my records signed for me, because I was too intimidated to ask him myself. I guess that’s why it says “To Geff.” Eventually I worked up the nerve, but it was only because I’d become so frustrated with the fact that he never put out new albums, and never toured on his own. I had to ask him when he was going to step out of the shadows and show the world how brilliant he really was. I remember timidly walking up to him and talking to him a bit, before asking if he’d considered putting out a new album or doing some shows on his own. He laughed and said that he had plenty of plans. He was working on putting together a live album, and writing new songs, and planning some shows, one of which might take place in Winnipeg. I was over the moon with excitement. Sadly, none of those things ever came to be.

I’m a huge fan of the guys in Blackie & The Rodeo Kings for many reasons, but their greatest accomplishment is introducing the world to Willie P Bennett once again. Whenever Stephen or Colin has appeared on my radio show, the conversation always drifts over to Willie. What’s he up to? Is he ever going to put out another album? What’s the deal with him, anyway? He’s a guiding light for Stephen, Colin, Tom, me, and so many others.

That radio show exists for the purpose of allowing people to hear great songwriters like Willie P Bennett who just don’t get heard often enough. Tomorrow, I’ll be playing two hours of Willie P. Somehow, it just won’t seem like enough. I just don’t want it to be true. I want to still believe that someday I’ll get to see Willie in concert, and he’ll release the long awaited album that will win him many awards and get his name back out there. Some day, he’ll get the attention he deserves. I guess now I can only hope that his songs will get the same respect and attention posthumously that folks like Townes Van Zandt and Hank Williams get. They were sadly under-appreciated during their own time as well. Willie ranks right up there with those true greats. True giants whose songs touch hearts and minds. They’ll live forever. I’ll be playing Willie P Bennett songs for anyone who will listen for as long as I’m alive.

I didn’t know you well, and I only heard you sing your powerful songs in person a couple of times, but Willie, you are a true friend. You help me through tough times, and very few of those are tougher, or sadder, than today, when I heard that you’d died. Thank goodness I have your songs to help me make it through.

This may come as a surprise to some, but probably my favourite TV show of all time, and the one that I am once again totally obsessed with and watching night and day, is a brutally violent, obscene, offensive prison drama called “Oz.” It may also surprise some to know that one of my favourite albums of all time is by a band named Rage Against the Machine. Sure, I’m known these days for my sucky love songs & folk music, but every once in a while, I put on a brutal episode of Oz, or the debut by Rage Against the Machine and I go nuts.

For the uninformed, Rage Against the Machine is really loud, and really angry. They burst onto the scene in 1992 with their debut that mixed heavy metal style guitars with rap-style spoken word, and a whole lot of anger and yelling. This band, and others who are loud and angry, are often associated with angry, disenfranchised people. There’s a stereotype of what someone who’s angry and disenfranchised looks like and acts like, but stereotypes are not always right. There’s usually some truth, and I suppose some element of the stereotype rings true, but rarely is it that simple.

You see, although to many I seem to be pretty easy going and happy, there are times when I, too, am angry and disenfranchised. But really, who isn’t like that sometimes. There are times when I want to be angry and jump up and down and yell. But I decided a long time ago that anger didn’t really have a positive place in my life. For me, anger could be rather consuming and controlling. It has the potential to destroy good things, and get in the way of happiness. For some, anger is a positive outlet and an important, therapeutic emotion. For me, it’s more destructive. I have a lot I could be angry about, but I choose not to.

s Should I be angry because of a family history of alcoholism, which affects many?

s Should I be angry about all of the schoolyard bullies who told me that I was a loser?

s Should I be angry at the teachers who concentrated on my mistakes and shortcomings instead of my talents?

s Should I be angry at the society that told me that where & how I grew up would limit what I could do with my life?

s Should I be angry that society has this unrealistic image of love & relationships that just isn’t possible?

s Should I be angry at all of the signs that tell me that I should be happy, when I’m not?

s Should I be angry that wars & disease & senseless bullshit hurt innocent people?

s Should I be angry that our planet is dying and there’s not much we can (or perhaps will) do about it?

s Should I be angry at a school system that I believe in, yet is so flawed and hurtful?

Should I be angry about any of these things, or more? Well, yeah, I guess I could. I have every right to be angry and disenfranchised because of these or a dozen other reasons. But really, what good would that do? Would it make death or pain or disease or hurtful people go away? Would it change anything? Would it make me happier to be angry about things that I can’t change?

For me, the answer is a resounding no. I won’t let anger control me. I won’t be controlled by things that I can’t understand or change. But you better believe that every once in a while, I’m going to put on Oz and love it when a bad guy gets the tar kicked out of him, or killed in a gruesome way. And somehow, I do love to yell along with Rage Against the Machine.

Does this make me an angry, disenfranchised person? Does this make me dangerous? Frightening? Nah, I’m still the same old goody goody who hates to do anything wrong or upset anybody, instead, enjoying the anger and the release of others helps me to avoid losing control myself. I accept the world, and the system for what they are, and I’m not one to start a revolution or encourage chaos, but I’m glad that there are people out there who do have revolutionary and chaotic tendencies. I don’t necessarily agree with them, and I don’t necessarily want to join in, but just allowing myself to be a part of their anger and their passion is a bit of a release for me. And that’s why I understand kids who turn to angry music, video games, or movies as forms of entertainment, and I encourage them to do so. I know that in society today, the power of these things has been taken away and they’ve become too commonplace, but I think they do have value and they are important.

I think there’d be less true anger and violence in the world if people would learn to use music & entertainment to release the anger & violence that I believe lurks within all of us. I think it’s the people who aren’t encouraged to yell & scream & jump up and down are the ones who end up doing it for real.

I guess for the most part I’ll stick with the sappy love songs & folk music, and I’ll try to dwell on happier, more productive things, things that I can control or do something about, but every once in a while, I need my Rage. I hope you do too.

Today marks the tenth anniversary of the death of Townes Van Zandt. Sadly, I was not aware of Townes until after his death, although I’m not sure why I didn’t get there sooner. I was attending the Winnipeg Folk Festival for about 4 years by that point, so I’m sure I’d heard one or two of his songs, and I know I’d heard the infamous Steve Earle quote, because we’d talked about it at the festival, but I never took the time to find out who he really was, or what he was all about.

Then in maybe 2000 or 2001, my girlfriend and I were at the music store and we decided to buy a Townes CD, because we both knew that we should know more about him. We picked up the great High Low and In Between compilation of two of his greatest albums. We brought it home and listened to it. We agreed that there was something special about it, but neither one of us really fell for it then. I recognize now that I didn’t give it enough attention, didn’t really give it the time that it needed to really sink in. Or perhaps I just wasn’t ready for it yet.

A couple of years later I received the fantastic “Legend” compilation as a gift. I had been hosting my singer/songwriter show for quite a while, and I’d certainly become familiar with Townes, although still not fully immersed in the Van Zandt magic. I had been playing some of Townes’ music, but I was probably more familiar with covers of his work. Around this time I found the Live at the Bluebird Café disc featuring Townes, Guy Clark, and Steve Earle.

I had been a big Steve Earle fan for years, so I knew that because he was such an influence on Steve, I should like Townes more. I doubt at the time I knew why Townes was so great. Heck, I didn’t even know why Steve Earle was so great. I liked Steve Earle for all the wrong reasons (I jumped on the bandwagon around Copperhead Road, largely because my music loving aunt was a fanatic, and I trusted her opinion more than I trusted my own.) The things that I loved about Steve at the time, great melodies and energy and a rockin’ band, were not evident in the Townes stuff that I’d heard.

Townes’ music, like that of so many of the true greats, is not easily digestible. It’s not meant for mass consumption. Whenever other folks have taken Townes songs and made them more friendly to the ears (Willie, Emmylou, etc.), they’ve watered them down somehow. They’ve sort of stripped out the pain and the beauty and the majesty. But no matter, whatever gets Townes wider recognition has to be a good thing.

I’m not sure what song really got to me first, but listening to his greatest songs on the Legend albums impressed upon me what an amazing body of work this man had. I was really starting to get into songwriters that I really had to listen to in order to enjoy, John K Samson of the Weakerthans being the best example. I was finally taking the time to focus on the words, and work at understanding the meanings and the emotions.

You can’t really blame me for being slow to catch on. I was raised on soulless 80s pop music. The stuff that I grew up loving was so easy to enjoy. It’s catchy, polished, and does not require any kind of investment of time or attention. You get it right away, and there’s not much more to it than that. I loved that stuff for so long (still do), but it gets old so quickly. Also, even though I have been a fan of great songwriters for years, I don’t often spend time analyzing lyrics, or paying much attention to them at all, for that matter. I was raised on tv and video games, so I have a healthy attention deficit that I come by naturally.

Funny, but when I first listened to Townes, I thought he sounded so old. I thought it sounded like classic country music (which I also hadn’t learned to love until later). I thought it sounded like a voice from the past. That is funny, because as I listen to Townes today as I write this, it sounds so timeless. It sounds to me like it could have been recorded today, because the words and meanings are still so relevant and so powerful. It’s so simple, so beautiful, and so powerful that it couldn’t possibly get “old” or sound dated.

I watched “Be Here to Love Me” today for the first time in many months. I actually ended up watching it as an after-thought. To be honest, the thought had never occurred to me, until Kristi suggested it (she was originally going to put in Fight Club, but it was too long.) If you haven’t seen that film, stop reading this and go find it. Only if you watch it will you know what the hell I’m talking about.

Sometimes music and messages reach you that way. By accident. They come to you when you most need them or are most susceptible. When they can have the most impact. I’d watched the film before, and I’ve been absolutely moved by it every time. Obviously it highlights what amazing songs and words Townes wrote; that movie is full of just one amazing song after another, and there are so many that were left out.

I have some reservations with the film. It’s loosely threaded together footage and interviews. On one hand, I like the fact that there’s no real narrative making it a clear documentary, but on the other hand, it presupposes that the viewer knows a fair bit about Townes and the people in the movie. It doesn’t really tell the whole story that clearly.

But for its relative shortcomings, the movie is still one of the most powerful films I’ve ever seen. It vividly paints a picture of a man who started out looking like he had it all. Townes came from money and education and status, but ended up living so much of his life broke and drunk and seemingly hopeless. I’m never sure how to feel about Townes. It seems so tragic that someone who had all of the opportunity in the world would end up a victim of vices and demons. It seems like with his family and background, Townes should have lived a happier, more secure life. It seems like he lost out on so much. He didn’t really know or appreciate his children. He alienated his family, his friends, his loves. He took great opportunities and gifts and seemed to squander them all. He never became as famous or as rich or as strong as he deserved to be.

But had he been rich or famous or strong, how could he possibly have written the songs that he wrote? How could he have sung with such conviction? How could you write such haunting and sad songs if you’d never lived with pain, loss, and addiction? The truth is that Townes lived a seemingly tragic life because he wanted to, but really, because he had to. Would Townes have had the kind of impact on songwriting and music and me if he had lived a clean life, or even if he were still alive today? Would he have really impacted the world (as I see it) as strongly if he had been more subtle or built to last?

Like other great prophets through history (fill in your own names)Townes lived a humble life, but did such great things. Like other great prophets, he was persecuted, misunderstood, and abused by others who didn’t see what greatness was in him. He died tragically, and left this world too soon. But luckily, he left behind a body of work and a legion of believers that ensures that he will never be forgotten. The real power of his messages only amplifies as time goes on. Those messages will never go out of style or stop being relevant.

The music of Townes Van Zandt is not for everyone, although I honestly believe that there’s something for absolutely everyone in his body of work somewhere. His is a music that requires the kind of patience and attention that most of us aren’t willing to devote regularly. Even me. I am absolutely blown away every time I really sit and listen to Townes, but I don’t do it very often at all. For me, listening to Townes Van Zandt is like eating dark chocolate or cheesecake or something; it’s too rich to be consumed every day. If you ate super rich deserts every day, they would lose their power and their appeal. It’s only after being away from cheesecake for a while that you can bite into a piece and really go, “Damn, that’s good!” And the same can be said for Townes. Although he is without a doubt my favourite songwriter, and surely my favourite recording artist, I won’t ever listen to him daily, because I don’t want to lose that sense of amazement and wonder that I feel when I take the time to sink my teeth into a big helping of his music.

Townes, it’s been 10 years since you left us, but you’ll never really die. Folks like me will make sure of that. We owe it to you for all that you’ve done for us, and we owe it to others to share your work with them. Thanks for all that you did (well, not all of it. Some of it was downright stupid and selfish) and all that you mean. I’m sorry that you had to suffer and die so soon, but in a way, I guess that’s just the way it was meant to be. But thanks for all that you left behind.

No Depression No More!

I'm a nerd. I used to read a lot of music magazines when I was younger and had more money, but these days, I don't have the time or the money to buy and read many of the darn things anymore. I hear about a lot of great magazines that I should read, but don't often get around to picking them up, and even less often do I get around to reading the ones I do pick up. One magazine that I've been told time and time again that I should pick up, and have often been tempted to pick up, is NO Depression. It's a magazine that focuses on "The Past, Present, and Future of American Music." That really means nothing, but when you read the magazine, it makes a little more sense. It focuses on music that's good, instead of major label crap that they get paid to force down people's throats. It's very much got a roots/folk/americana focus, so musically, it's right up my alley.

Well, I finally got to find out how great the magazine was about a year ago when a dear friend was kind enough to sign me up for a subscription. It was a wonderful gift as I finally found out what I'd been missing for so long. As the magazines arrived, I would sit down and flip through them, looking for a couple of articles and reviews that I had to read, knowing that I didn't really have time to go through the whole issue in depth. What I found was that the whole darn thing was good, and I ended up spending a lot more time than I really had reading almost everything in each issue. There were a lot of late nights where I probably should have been sleeping, but ended up reading No Depression instead. There were a lot of great articles and reviews and photos, so it was worth staying up late to go over each magazine.

A little while ago, I started getting notices that my time was about up and that I had to renew my subscription. Well, I'm broke as can be, and life is only getting busier, so I haven't committed to renewing just yet. I was still considering it though. That is, until I read this month's magazine.

I've been very impressed with the amount of great Canadian music that's been presented in the magazine. There have been articles and reviews of some of my favourite Canadian musicians in the magazine in the past (Jim Bryson!), and the latest issue is no different, there's a really great article on Blue Rodeo on there (even if it does focus heavily on why they're not stars in the U.S., which seems a little odd.) I was also pleased to see that there is a review of Corb Lund's new record, "Hair in my Eyes Like a Highland Steer." Being a bit of a Lund fan and curious to see what an American magazine would think of Lund's very Albertacentric writing, I dove right into the review. Almost immediately, it stopped me right in my tracks.

I'll provide a copy of the review here:

Like ice fishing and snow mobile racing, Corb Lund is huge in Canada (if not so much in Texas). The former frontman for Edmonton punk-rock footnotes the Smalls consistently sells out 1,000-seat venues in the Great White North. Hair In My Eyes Like A Highland Steer leaves no doubt that the country convert bleeds maple syrup and Molson Canadian; the disc's thirteen rollicking dusters are littered with references to Calgary cowgirls and British Columbia buckaroos.

Musically, The Corb Lund Band is at least partially rooted in American soil. The cowbell-propelled title track hews dangeroulsy close to Nashville-brand new country, and the saloon-boogie shuffler "Always Keep An Edge On Your Knife" sounds like an artifact from the California gold rush.

Lund's weakness is that too many of his songs play out like novelty tunes. "Hurtin' Albertan" is a CB radio tribute that won't make anyone forget about C.W. McCall's immortal "Convoy", and "The Truck Got Stuck" could easily be a reject from Jason Ringenberg's A Day At The Farm With Farmer Jason children's disc. Everyone suspects Canadians are kind of simple, but Lund doesn't have to prove it with sing-song rhymes like "It was truck after truck/We all got stuck."

From No Depression #60 - November/December 2005
written by Mike Usinger

Wow. Now I can take a joke, and can forgive more than my share of bad writing (not everyone can be a perfect writer such as I, after all...), but this pile of literary poo got to me. I did what I felt I had to do, and wrote an email to No Depression expressing my disappointment. It is as follows:

It's a good thing my subscription is up, because I'd likely want to cancel it after reading the DUMB comments that Mike Usinger made in his sadly misinformed and very insulting review of Corb Lund's new album. There's a reason why there is some animosity between Canada and the US, and it's almost entirely because of ignorance and stereotypes like those spewed forth by Mr. Usinger. "Everyone suspects Canadians are kind of simple, but Lund doesn't have to prove it..." Wow. I'm not surprised that there's someone in the US small-minded enough to write such drivel, but I'm really shocked at No Depression for publishing it. What a total lack of respect for your subscribers north of the border.

I should mention that Usinger's rambling review, while it contains plenty of fairly typical, stupid stereotypes, also contains plenty of factual errors. First, Lund was hardly the "frontman" for The Smalls. As anyone who had done their homework should know, Corby Lund (as he was known) was the bass player, while Mike Caldwell did the singing, thank you (a quick check on allmusic.com, an American site, will show you that) (further, one has to wonder why, if The Smalls are mere "footnotes," Usinger would bother to mention them at all). Also, while Lund is surely gaining in popularity, he is far from able to sell out 1,000 seat venues in much of "The Great White North." Sure, in his home of Alberta he may be able to pull that off, but in much of the country he's playing much, much smaller venues. Most importantly, no matter how much he appears to be gaining steam, he has a long, long way to go before he is as popular as ice fishing or snowmobile (one word, Mr. Usinger) racing.

We Canadians may be simple, but at least we are able to write well informed reviews without insulting an entire nation of people.

Farewell No Depression, and thanks for not making things "too" friendly between the US and Canada; it just means that there will be more maple syrup and Molson products for us, thanks.

Jeff Robson
Winnipeg, Manitoba
Great White North

And those are just a few of the comments that one could make about this awful review.

I know, I know. It's been a while since I ranted. I know you're just dying to know what's on my mind. Well, what's on my mind is my hectic frickin' schedule, ok? But I did have time to cobble together another wild and controversial rant. This isn't it.

If you've ever sat and thought to yourself: "That Jeff sure does play a lot of Fred Eaglesmith on his radio show, and he seems to go to a lot of Fred's shows and buy a lot of Fred's stuff, but I really wonder what Jeff really, really thinks of Fred," then this rant's for you. It's packaged with some photos (some not too terrible, either) of Fred and his Flying Squirrel Revue at their show in Grand Forks.

Check it out, if you dare. (if you're one of those folks who feels that Fred is above reproach then you best stay away...

Don't forget that there are all kinds of other photos (most without ignorant and outspoken opinions) at my photo site.

Hi folks,

A little while back, I got out all 10 fingers and all 11 toes and tried to figure out exactly how many shows I'd done on Sunday afternoons. According to my always questionable accounting, on March 20 of this year, I will be airing my 100th Sunday afternoon broadcast. That's roughly equivalent to 250 hours (I often have an extra hour or more), and that's just on Sunday afternoons. I do it for plenty of reasons, including the selfish ego stroke and it gives me a reason to spend so much freakin' money on CDs, but I also like to think that I do it for you. There's so much great music out there that people just aren't finding out about, and if I can do my part to introduce folks to some of that great talent, then I'm a happy man. Every time someone tunes in to my show and hears someone like David Francey, JP Hoe, Stephen Fearing, or Willie P Bennett for the first time, I know I've done a good thing. Even if nobody listened and nobody cared, I'd still do it for my own selfish reasons. But I'm lucky enough that I've had wonderful support from the listeners over the past few years, and I really do appreciate that.

One of the main reasons that I started to do this show is because of my old pal Stu Reid at CKUW. I used to listen to his show long before I had mine, and I wondered where he was getting such great music from, and how come I hadn't heard it anywhere else. I also really got to like his personality and on-air style, and I used to secretly wish that we could be friends, because I knew I could sit and talk music for hours on end with him, and I didn't know many people who'd let me do that at the time. Well, call it fate if you will, but eventually I lucked into a volunteer gig at UMFM where I could share my music, and soon after, I got to meet Stu, and am lucky enough to consider him a friend. I still listen to his shows every chance I get, and most of my good ideas are stolen from Stu, or designed in some idiotic testosterone fuelled way to impress or one-up him. But it's good natured competition and thievery, and I try to give him credit once in a while (even though he loooooves to take shots at me. Have you seen page 5 of the new Stylus Magazine? I'll have him know that I own far more Bob Dylan records than there are David Lee Roth solo albums (although I don't listen to Dylan much and don't give a hoot), although I own no Woody Guthrie, and if you factored in Van Halen, well...) My point is that if you like my show at all (thank you!), you will naturally love Stu's TwangTrust, which airs Wednesdays 6-8pm on CKUW 95.9 fm (www.ckuw.ca).

----- Original Message -----

From: "Stu Reid"

To: "Stu Reid"

Sent: Tuesday, February 15, 2005 9:42 AM

Subject: I'm baaaaack

Well, it's that time of year again, but I have to say, I'm considerably more sheepish this year than I have been over the last five years. Thusly, I'll keep this as short as I can. Yes, once again it is CKUW FunDrive time. The time when I try to persuade friends and family to donate a few bucks via my Wednesday night radio show to a non-profit radio station that means the world to me. Hopefully it does to you too. If not directly, then on some spiritual level, anyway.

The uniqueness of the programming and what CKUW stands for in it's community is something that can't be denied, regardless of whether or not you want to hear me play the Beat Farmers singing their Led Zepplin medley for the umpteenth time. Generally speaking, CKUW speaks to and for an element of our community that has been deemed 'fringe' by the powers that be. We could debate that whole concept forever, but we don't need to get into that now. Suffice to say, CKUW has no political strings to pull or sleezy plans that ultimately make the public responsible for it's bills. Close to half the annual budget comes from this perrenial fundrive and any growth the station makes comes via the degree of generosity of it's supporters each February.

Of course, there are a couple of causes out there at the moment that any good hearted soul would rightfully deem more important than supporting a bunch of music geeks need to hoist their obsession onto the public. And this year, the growing Reid family has managed to be one of those causes. The generosity of so many great friends and family members has been overwhelming since Kathy and I have adopted little Brittany Magnolia. I know that for me to outright ask for a few more bucks for my little obsession so soon after you've already shown me your love and support, is more than a little obnoxiously bold. But of course the realities of keeping the world turning still exist. So I ask. And remember - I can't host The TwangTrust forever. Someday I'll have to pass the torch on to Brittany, so we need to make sure that fire is still burning for that far-off day!

As always, The TwangTrust airs tomorrow - Wednesday evening - from 6:00-8:00pm (central). Tune in to 95.9 FM (or on the internet at www.ckuw.ca) to hear me go on about all this even more. In the midst of playing all your favourite Roger Miller and Gurf Morlix songs, of course! And who knows what other FunDrive mayhem will occur this year! Will we phone Bruce Springsteen live on-air? Will celebrity guests phone or stop by? Who knows!? The TwangTrust has been CKUW's #1 pledged show for the last three years during FunDrive and hopefully we can keep that record going. If you do want to offer support and donate, but can't be around Wednesday evening to call in, let me know in advance and I'll hang on to your pledge and announce it during the show, so it counts towards my grand total.

Any donation, no matter how small or large, is very much appreciatted. But as always, the more you give, the more you receive, and we have an embarrasement of musical riches to give away this year : CD packs of 5 or more discs including the likes of: Chuck Prophet, Johnny Dowd, Peter Case, Elliott Brood, Carolyn Mark, and the local Guess Who Tribute CD among many others... DVDs of Steve Earle, The Flatlanders and Jackie Green... the annual Neko Case prize pack including her most recent live album, a t-shirt and much more... a special pack of TwangTrust mystery discs... and the big grand prize - the special interactive Simpsons playset (still mint-in-box!) featuring Colonel Homer and country music superstar, Lurleen Lumpkin! Also, tickets to the Guess Who Tribute Weekend in March at the Pyramid Cabaret and much, much more! (CKUW office staff hates me, by the way).

T-shirts for all at the $60 level - not designed by me this year, but I did colour it! And I haven't even mentioned this year's official TwangTrust
FunDrive Art Print yet! This year featuring a rare photo (autographed, of course, as autographed posters look better) of 2 of our most oft-played artists - check it out here: http://www.ckuw.ca/fundrive/TwangTrust_2005.jpg It is available (with bonus wool cap!) only at the premium $90 level, which if you go on the special monthly automatic-withdrawl payment plan, only amounts to $7.50 a month. That's $1.70 per TwangTrust episode! And anyone who regularly listens to the show and doesn't think it's worth $1.70... well... I love you, so we won't go there...

Your old pal,

Stu

Thanks to everyone who supported UMFM's highly successful "Season of Giving" promotion in December. Look for an even bigger and better donation drive in 2005.

Thanks again to the following amazing sponsors. We wouldn't have gathered so much food for Winnipeg Harvest without you!

Warner Music Canada - copies of:
Luke Doucet - Outlaws: Live & Unreleased
Ron Sexsmith - Retriever

True North Records - copies of:
Rheostatics - 2067
Paul Kelly - Ways & Means
Andy White - Boy 40
John Martyn - Classics
Petra Haden and Bill Frisell
Bruce Cockburn - Anything, Anytime, Anywhere: Singles 1979-2002
Colin Linden - Big Mouth
Tony Furtado - These Chains
Nojo with Sam Rivers - City of Neighbourhoods
Ben Arnold - Calico
Joel Kroeker - Melodrama

Festival Distribution & Jericho Beach Music:
Maria Dunn - We Were Good People
Various Artists - Many Blessings: A Native American Celebration
Carlos Maza - Salvedad
Susan Crowe - Book of Days
Lisa Patterson - Roam
Sandy Scofield 'n nitsiwakun - Ketwam
Oliver Schroer - A Million Stars
Shirley Eikhard - Stay Open
Arto Lindsay - Salt
Bitch and Animal - Sour Juice and Rhyme
The Wailin' Jennys - 40 Days
David Francey - The Waking Hour

Killbeat Music, Black Hen Music, Saved By Radio, and the artists:
Bruce Knauer - Allnight Breakfast Special
Vailhalen - Becs d'oiseaux
Bocephus King - All Children Believe in Heaven
Ulysses - .010
The High Dials - A New Devotion and Fields in Glass EP
Jim Byrnes - Fresh Horses
Old Reliable - Pulse of Light Dark Landscape
Bottleneck - Bottleneck and Late Nights, Early Mornings
Falconhawk - Hotmouth
Swank - The Survival Issue
Zubot and Dawson - Chicken Scratch
Shuyler Jansen - Hobotron
OX - Dust Bowl Revival
GreenTara - Music for a Mixed Nation
Mary Ancheta - Live Life

If you know me or have heard my show, chances are you know that I'm somewhat infatuated with a Winnipeg trio named The Wailin' Jennys. I love to remind people that their very first public appearance together was on UMFM on a show that I was part of (Songwriters' Circle); they've been on my show several times since; I've seen them many, many times in concert (including their first show ever, at Sled Dog Music) at The West End, folk festivals, outdoor events, house concerts, freezing cold fire hall basements, etc.; they're my friends, and I love them.

Well, it seems that I'm not the only one. 2004 turned out to be a pretty damn good year for the girls, even though an unexpected line-up change shook things up a bit late in the year. Check out some stats on their radio play this year.

Big news: The "Buy Jeff a Digital Camera" fund-drive is now over. Santa (aka Lucy) came through in grand fashion with a beauty of a digital camera under the tree (along with the fanciest photo printer I ever did see... it even prints on CDs! Can't wait to start on my Best of 2005 compilation!). From now on, digital photos of EVERY show I go to! Yahoo! I'll start it off tonight by smuggling it into The Royal Albert (wish me luck) when I take a trip back in time and go see Brandon's mighty hip-hop pioneers, Farm Fresh. Fun times! and Photos!

Let's call this the first official rant, shall we? mmmkay. While the aforementioned R.E.M. show made me feel really good about being a music nerd, tonight wasn't the same case. Now, the show I saw tonight was no less spectacular than R.E.M. (well, ok, maybe I'm pushing it a bit, but it was a damn good show), but there was one main difference that really brought me down tonight. Read on, if you dare.

Tonight was my first time attending Michael Johnston's Boys Play Girls. (I should note that I was fully intending to attend last year's event, but a rather unfortunate illness/death in the family kind of rained on my parade, so it's not at all my fault that I missed the show last year. This knowledge might come in handy later.) Michael is currently living in Winnipeg, and that's much to our benefit. He's a wonderful musician and songwriter in his own right, but for a few years now, he's been putting on these charity events, first in Toronto, then starting in Winnipeg last December. The premise is simple: gather a wide selection of great male musicians, and have them perform the songs of a favourite female songwriter. We hear women do songs by male songwriters all the frickin' time, but how often do you hear a man cover a woman's song? Personally, I think it's because men know that women are far better singers and so the fragile egos of men can't stand to know that they're going to do a lesser job than some women. That's horse shit, but it's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, everything about this event screams success. First off, the lineup is always amazing. This year, we had Johnston, the amazing Reid Jamieson, the legendary Shingoose, Mike Trike, and everyone's favourite bar band The Perpetrators, all doing their best impressions of female songwriters (well, except Shingoose, but we may get to him in a minute. Did he not see the poster or something?) This is truly a once in a lifetime event. While we get to see these acts all the time (except Shingoose, and Reid Jamieson, who hates to fly so is holed up in Toronto, poor lad), but NEVER before or again will these acts perform a similar set. They work out special arrangements of songs by a particular female artist and then do a full set of that artist's material. It's a brilliant and unique concept, and it allows for so much fun and a truly amazing experience. As I mentioned, the event is also a charity fundraiser. None of the performers make a cent, and I'm sure The West End wasn't turning a profit either. All of the money raised this year went to support Thunderbird House, which operates absolutely essential programming and services for Aboriginal people in Winnipeg. It's a great cause and a great event. Winnipeggers love an event, and we love to help out a worthwhile charity, and we love a bargain (that many acts doing something so special for only $10? That's a bargain, no doubt), so I just assumed that the place would be packed to the rafters. Not so.

How in the hell can an event so special and worthwhile not sell 100 tickets at $10 each? It boggles my mind. Michael Johnston has worked tirelessly promoting this event. He does everything from organizing it, booking the acts, making and putting up the posters, and doing interview after interview (like coming on my show last week, thanks Michael) and asks for NOTHING in return. The man's a saint. To have a less than half full room on a Saturday night is a slap in the face to someone who's worked so hard and put so much into the night. I hope to be able to call Michael a friend after this, and I felt really bad for him. I should mention that he's such a decent and humble person, that he would never be such a Gloomy Gus like me and complain. He had a great time, no matter what the turnout, but maybe I just expect a little more from this city.

And Michael has been working on not only booking this show, but he arranged shows Thursday, Friday (actually two concerts in one night), and Sunday, as well as appearances on the radio and on the Big (annoying) Breakfast on Friday. I went on Thursday to the Academywhateverit'scallednow and had a great time. Sadly, besides me, Keri & Devin from Nathan, and a table full of really obnoxious talkers right up front, the turnout sucked. Horribly. Last night was a little better. The show was at Dregs, and the place was comfortably full. Unfortunately, most of the folks there were left over from the rock band that played before Michael and Reid, so they weren't terribly interested in the great show and many of them left during the performance. Their loss, because that was quite simply one of the most fun and entertaining nights I've seen in a long time. The Brothers in Song (as they billed themselves) traded off doing originals and amazing covers and had me smiling non-stop the whole time.

I've been doing my best to promote these shows for weeks on the radio. I absolutely love Reid Jamieson's new CD "The Unavoidable Truth" and I've been playing the hell out of it on the air. I've asked everyone I know to attend at least one of the shows, and even went so far as to email some folks I considered good friends and ask them to do me a personal favour by showing up. They did not. Luckily, my dear friends Kristi and Simone are more easily (mis)led, and attended a couple of shows with me, and I'm grateful, and I know that they (why am I talking about something that hasn't happened, Simone's going on Sunday, so I can't say what she thought, because she hasn't thought it yet) had (or will have) a great time and are (or will be) grateful that they took my advice and attended the shows.

It got me to feeling like nobody listens to me. Whenever I am most excited about a show and rant and rave about how great it's going to be, it's like the kiss of death, because nobody ends up coming to that show. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm just wrong, maybe my taste is that bad, or maybe nobody gives a rat's ass what I think. Whatever it is, it makes me crazy. I like to think that my advice is pretty reliable, and that I know a thing or two about music by now. So why does it seem like my advice is meaningless? There are a lot of perks that I do get by being a DJ at UMFM, but it's also a lot of work, and not only do I no

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