Don't Panic

Every once in a while you rediscover something that had crept in to the deep, shadowed recesses of your brain to sleep and be forgotten. If you're lucky you'll stumble across it with a mixture of joy and disbelief, much like finding a twenty dollar bill in the middle of the street.

For me, the rediscovery has been Douglas Adams. I had been discussing him passionately with a friend of mine and she asked, "Have you read 'Last Chance to See'?" I replied that I had, but it was a long time ago. I have fond memories of the book because I read it during a great time of my life but I read it quickly because it was someone else's book and I was only living at their house for a few weeks.

So, I tracked down a copy and re-read it this past week. I loved it more the second time. It is such a joy to read the words of an intelligent, funny, peculiar person when they are speaking of something that is entirely out of their own element. Imagine sending Bruce Springsteen down in the next dive to explore the depths of the ocean or recover the Titanic. An odd choice for the job and perhaps he's underqualified but some interesting songs would probably come of it. Imagine dropping the members of Coldplay on to the moon with a mic, a recording device (some space suits, of course) and asking them to talk about the experience. I grant you they've already done this in one of their videos but that's beside the point. The point is placing something or someone where it has no business being and allowing that thing/person to comment on the situation. In this case, it's an incredibly entertaining success.

The BBC decided it would be great if Douglas Adams (who writes funny science fiction novels) and Mark Carwardine (who is a noted and respected zoologist) travelled together to incredibly difficult to get to places around the world visiting, commenting on and raising awareness of some of the worlds most endangered species. The book has everything: dragons, drinking, jungles, deserts and shopping for condoms deep in communist China. How can you not bake a delicious cake with a recipe like that?

And it's created awareness for me. I'm being nicer to my cat. I want to write a song about the kakapo. I'm watching more of the Nature channel. I was on the subway with a woman who smelled remarkably like the African Pavillion at the Metro Zoo and I tried (with limited success) to just bask in the musk.

So what am I saying here? Well, read some Douglas Adams. That's for certain. And try something different. Just because. Sleep on the other side of the bed. Take the long way home on purpose. Watch a television show upside down. Anything. It's amazing how the smallest changes can alter our perceptions. So try something new, revel in the discomfort and - most importantly - don't panic.

Gravity Always Wins

I remember the first time I beat my father in chess. Not to sound too dramatic, but...the world changed.

There are certain people who live above our heads. Idols, gods, icons - call them what you will. These are the people that we strive to be. They usually define facets of who we are and what we will become. And it's often terrifying to realize - without arrogance or boast - that, "I can do that better than they can."

The first time I beat my father in chess I went up to my room, sat on my bed and stared at my Star Wars wallpaper. I didn't know what to do. This was a man who was better than I was at everything: at hockey, at running, at math, at speaking, at cooking and certainly at chess. In my mind, I had thrown a stone and a giant had fallen.

Well, it's happened again. The greatest musical influence of my life has finally touched the ground and it's doubtful their wings will ever work again. I am speaking of U2 and their new record, "No Line on the Horizon."

It is not a great record.

Anyone who knows me will realize that me writing that down is akin to killing my firstborn child with my own hands. It's an ok record. There are moments (echoes?) of greatness and moments of interest and moments of discovery but they seem unable to sustain that size like they used to. I feel a bit pedantic listening and judging but after four and half years, you'd expect the biggest band in the world (with no limit to their resources) to dazzle, to soar, to break new ground.) But they don't. Thom Yorke is right. "Gravity always wins.' Now, it's a wonder that they managed to stay in orbit so long. This is a band that found worldwide success almost 25 years ago and have bounced between soaring and flapping madly to stay in the air since then. Their toes have touched the ground on occasion (see the majority of 'Pop') but they've always managed to catch an updraft at the last second and keep the sky. As such, it's hard to be angry at them because they've built all these expectations on their own shoulders. But it's hard not to be disappointed. It's hard not to be afraid. Who reigns when the king dies and there's no heir to the throne?

Full Moon Fever

For whatever reason, people have been known to behave in bizarre, irrational and clinically insane fashions around the full moon, so I checked the lunar cycle for 2009. There is no full moon due until February 9. Therefore, I am left with one obvious conclusion. Our atmosphere or our fresh-water drinking supply has been diluted with some manner of psychotic drug. Perhaps I've just staggered out of the said stupor because I've been drinking pepsi & wine for three days straight and now have some clarity on the strangeness of the world at large. Regardless, everyone is acting very weird.

I just watched sports highlights and was fascinated with the crazy mob mentality. Apparently people in Pittsburgh were rioting because the Steelers won. "YES! YAAAAY!! Our football team is the best! Let's tip cars over! Let's light shit on fire!" Sure. That makes total sense.

In my entire time on this earth, I have been in one fistfight. One. It was in a Junior hockey game and I was really only involved because the team mate beside me started it and I was 'drawn in' rather quickly. That said, a fight where you have a large, caged mask over your face is no more dangerous than American Gladiators (you know, fighting with giant Q-tips). Although I'm a passionate and outspoken person, I usually manage to avoid fistacuffs. But after our show on Friday no less than two people wanted to fight with me. Their reasons were remarkable and involved me being about a foot taller, a lot more muscular and in three geographical places simultaneously. I want some of the drugs they had. They seem very, very good.

And then there's the commercials on television so far this year. They've certainly been heading down the 'strange' path for a while because unless you go the distance (be that weird, offensive or insane) no one will notice your product anymore. So now we have a Cialis commercial where a couples house has been ransacked, an Interac commercial where a small truck stalks a woman (if the Police's "Every Breath You Take" was playing in the background it would be a chilling short format thriller) and there's been a rash of talking baby ads (if the theme from "Poltergeist" was playing in the background it would be a chilling short format thriller) which should have been outlawed after "Look Who's Talking."

Everyone needs to settle down. My advice? Take a few deep breaths, get off the hard drugs, consume a lot of wine & pepsi, stay indoors and call me in a week.

Dog Day Afternoon

Well, the year is a day shy of two weeks old and thus far, success has not fallen from the sky and covered me in glory. I'll keep my eyes looking outward but the only thing I expect to see is more damned snow.

I was watching my beloved Leafs on Saturday (truly, I am a masochist) and heard this time of the year - referenced for the hockey players - as the 'dog days.' And I thought that sort of fit the bill for artists, too. There's not a lot going on, everyone has a bit of cabin fever and there's at least another sixty days before we can get outside and make something happen. (I cite the bands tour last year in late February as a reason to stay inside. Unless you're into skiing down very rural Quebec mountains in a minivan - with a trailer attached - I'd advise against a tour where you have to drive this time of year.)

I understand why animals hibernate now. I do. And I think they're smarter than us for doing so. "Jeez, there really isn't a lot going on for the next three or four months, is there? I think I'll just go buffet for a few weeks and then have a nice, long sleep. I'll burn off that pesky body fat and wake up when it's warm." Why - with the medicine and science that we have today - have we not created a human equivalent? Pig out + long sleep + weight loss = EVERYTHING WE WANT! Ok, not everything, but 3 out of 4 ain't bad.

But really, why stay awake in these, the dog days of winter? Let's be honest - the tv sucks until late winter/early spring (unless you like awards shows and if that's the case, you need a whole separate system of medical attention), there will be no good movies until May 24 and if you decide to go outside and get some fresh air, it's probably a little too fresh. At least, -20 celsius is a little too fresh in my books.

I think my breakout year would look a lot better after a nice, cool, two week sleep. Someone tell Oprah so we can get this thing in the works.

It's My Breakout Year!

Sadly, this has been my mantra for the past two years now. I have yet to live up to the expectations included in said phrase. Here's hoping that this is truly the one and that my destiny isn't tied into the Leafs (it's too late in life for me to begin a 'rebuilding' phase.)


I've been watching tv, movies, videos and studying my icons. According to my data, here's the top 5 things I need to do in 2009 to push myself and the band to the next level.


5. Lose 100 pounds.


Although I'm well within the parameters for 'average' weight given my height and age, you apparently can't be a star unless you are heroin, third-world, dangerously thin. Ideally, those 'skinny' jeans should barely hang on your frame and your body should completely lack any muscular definition. If you can see bones or bone structure, you're on the right track. This may require surgery in my case but I'm wiling to do it for my art.


4. Date Winona Ryder.


It's an integral part of any indie musician's rising career. She's like the Susan Sarandon character in Bull Durham. But a lot younger and a lot more hot. And hopefully Kevin Costner won't be anywhere in the vicinity. I have no trouble with this one as I've always had a crush on Winona and I've been keen to dabbling in shoplifting.


3. Hire Barack Obama's Fundraising Team


Those cats are money magicians. In the worst economic crisis since the great depression they managed to find $656, 000, 000 in just under two years. That's insane. I'll take just ONE of his team.


2. Get in Bed With Disney


I'm not sure how it happens. I don't know if you f*#k a mouse or if you have to donate body fluids, parts and cartilage to replace the pieces of Walt that have deteriorated in cryogenic freezing. But 5 of the top 8 'Entertainment' stories of last year owe their entire career to Disney so I'm going to find out how it happens. And then do whatever the hell they me to. If Disney tells me that the band should go more polka, then you will see 5 guys ready for Oktoberfest and hear a lot more accordian.


1. Make More Inflammatory Remarks


"George Bush doesn't care about black people." "Jews started all the wars in history." That sort of thing. Apparently the more ridiculouse your claims, beliefs or behaviours, the more publicity you get. So here is my first inflammatory remark of 2009. Let the incendiary press commence.



"If Heath Ledger weren't already dead, I'd bludgeon him to just such a point with the Oscar he's going to undeservedly win."