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Showing content with the highest reputation since 08/05/2014 in all areas

  1. 4 points

    From Bradm's mom...

    Just received this email from Bradm's mother Lois today: "We brought his ashes back when he died and until yesterday (Sunday) the urn was in my bedroom closet. To back track, when his Dad died in 2002, Ken was on our condo's Board of Directors and in his honour, a white magnolia bush was planted on our condo property. Steve and I decided to put Brad's ashes around the base of what has become a BIG tree. Yesterday here was a bit cloudy and even though there is a walking a path close to the tree no gardening staff were on duty. We took a spade, loosened the earth and put the ashes around the tree. As you may gather the McFarlane's are not outwardly religious. Steve and Brad were both Monty Python fans and Steve said a few words as did I. We came back up to the condo and Steven found a video of John Cleese giving a eulogy at Python's Graham Chapman's death ( I think it was his) singing Always Look on the Bright Side of Life If you haven't seen it, check out YouTube. It was hilarious and we figured Brad would approve............Lois"
  2. 4 points
    Personally, I just love The Grateful Dead. Fast, slow, in-between, happy or sad. What some corporate owned puppet journalist, haters, or even you freaks here on this forum think doesn't mean shit to me in the end, nor will anything change that for me. Love, like or hate them, there isn't, never was and never will be, anything like the Grateful Dead, and I fuckin love that. Cheers.
  3. 3 points

    Epic Covers

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    In memory; Favourite Hip/Gord moments

    Figured this was the best thread to share this.
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    https://youtu.be/x56mFbNvlEc Get your dance moves ready for friday night's madness, it should be a great night of freaky music. Hope to see you there ! Peace https://youtu.be/6KUo_wNVxTw
  7. 2 points
    Hmmm....well all true that is certainly not how I would boil down my peach experience Fourth year in a row...thought it was my fifth but I think I'm losing count. 😜 The vibe of this festival is one of the best in my opinion. Magical shining people everywhere. You sure do have to work hard and arrive early to get a good set up (in the trees on less sloped, less rocky land) but so well worth it. They continuously put out one of the best lines ups of the year every year...the water park is a huge plus and a hydrating salvation. Yoga in the mornings to work out all that muscle soreness. I also splurge for a massage from the healing tent on most days...some talented intuitive individuals in there. Our first rain free weekend which made things so much easier...cleaner I generally make my own breakfast/lunch. My favourite vendor is Asian Sensation....their dumplings and spicy Korean chicken bowl are superb. Thursday night we kicked things off with Aqueous (surpassed my expectations...great set...I'd seen them before...appear to be gaining depth and are on the rise). This was followed by Billy effin Strings....he just rips on that acoustic. I hope he maintains the stamina and lifestyle to entertain us into old age. Caught a set of Pigeons Playing Ping Pong...they're great fun, lots of energy...I eventually get bored but good. Opted not to catch their late night set that night but mostly to pace myself. String Cheese!!! They came out swinging. Thursday was their first of three sets that weekend and every single one was a festival highlight. They just have a little bit of everything that I love. Friday yoga, followed by Infamous Stringdusters (solid, enjoyable set....hard to top seeing them at Nelson Ledges and dancing in the soft sand). Unfortunately missed Cory Wong (opted not to climb another hill and back as I wanted to see Blues Traveler). Blues Traveler was fun but I think I enjoyed them more the last time I saw them at vibes. Nevertheless their hits get everyone moving. Moe.....heard so many people expressing indifference towards moe. I don't get it. To me they are still a straight up delightful rock/jam band and I enjoy them every time. Seeing them in a bar is my preference but that's true for most bands. Two more magical sets of String Cheese, followed by the Allman Betts Band. I thought they sounded great! Both the allman covers and originals. Just happy to see that music kept alive. Didn't make it to Saturday yoga...in large thanks to the brahs who decided to plug in and amplify music throughout the hills at like 4 or 5 in the morning or whatever it was. If you're going to do that (and please don't) at least be good...or even mediocre. It was terrible. I heard they got busted by cops on the following night. While I wouldn't wish that on anyone and don't know what they were taken down for, I was pleased this charade was a one time performance. Ended up being a late start by the time I got into the music. I was disappointed to miss both Ghost Light and Stephen Marley....but there was a heavy night in store. Lettuce>Greensky Bluegrass>double dose of TAB> followed by JRAD. I couldn't have been more blissed out. TAB was a definite festival topper for me. We had anywhere from a half dozen to 20 Canadians clustered at any one time and I got a huge kick out of watching people get sucked into, energetically lifted, or just plain out puzzled by our 'infectious' swirling energy. I believe we were excellent ambassadors. There's always a few Americans that want to come home with us lol. JRAD's set was also a tonne of fun despite missing their master conductor. I was choked to hear of that very shortly before they were to go on, but congrats to the Russo family. Sunday we packed down....wavered back and forth because it is the last thing you feel like doing on day 4....almost stayed another night but was really glad to have a clean bed, shower and hotel to go to at the end of the night. As a result of the pack down and slow moving haze we were in we missed Yonder which was a shame. Caught the end of the Inaugural Guitar pull and had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Stanley Jordan. What a tasteful talented player. Next up was Marcus King Band. This is my third time seeing him this year and he was cookin' as usual. Truly one of the greatest vocalists of all time in my opinion. I ended up missing most of Warren and Grace but really needed a massage and a swim to straighten things out. Made it back in time for good ole' Phil and Friends including Warren, Scofield, Graeme Lesh, Holly Bowling and John Molo. Once they got warmed up they put on a great show. Scofield is still a monster. An absolute privilege to still be able to see Phil do his thing and play with such improvisational mastery at his age. I had the best company one could ever ask for and reflected on that many many times throughout the weekend and how delicate life is and how lucky I have been. Heart is full of love and I always have renewed hope about this messed up world when I immerse myself in this freaky free flowing crowd. And....back to reality...aches and pains and things to do, but never the same. I just try and carry a little bit of that magic through the rat race until next time.
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  9. 2 points

    CityFolk 2018 rumours

    Awesome show by the Turtles last night at the Danforth, it had been way to long. Great three part harmonies and good gawd does the fiddle player shred that thing. An excellent evening all around. Hilarious tweet by the turtles today; Very excited to play @CityFolkFest in Ottawa today. Tainted slightly by the sadness of playing at the same time as David Byrne. Honestly, if any of you come to our show while that is taking place you should really take a long look at your life choices
  10. 2 points

    Epic Covers

    Live from 1972. Mick Taylor is on fire on slide:
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    Aloha - Remembering BradmAn evening to commemorate the life of our good friend Brad McFarlane featuring some of his favourite Ottawa musicians:Burnt ReynoldsPaulie and Stu from The Dusty DriftersDeath CakeSuper Awesome ClubWednesday, December 13th, 2017Irene’s Pubno cover/8pm
  16. 2 points
    Just knowing that a band has named itself Twiddle is enough for me to not want to hear them.
  17. 2 points

    Epic Covers

    Aloha, Brad
  18. 2 points

    R.I.P Richard “Dickie” Moore

    God bless Red. Red Fisher: Remembering great friend and Habs legend Dickie Moore, dead at age 84 I am looking for the right words, but where do you start? How do you say goodbye to a dear friend of more than six decades when tears get in the way? How do you say a final farewell to Dickie Moore, who passed away on Saturday. He was 84. I have known so many of the NHL’s players since the mid-1950s. Almost without exception, I was full of admiration for their talent, but only a few among them were to become friends. Dickie was my closest friend. Advertisement It goes back to his hockey days in the late 1940s when Canadiens GM Frank Selke Sr. anointed him Canada’s best junior. I watched him mature with the Quebec Senior Hockey League Royals and shine as few others in the NHL. Even as a junior, he was all about “team,” a player blessed with a special mixture of courage and on-ice talent surpassed only by his decency as a human being. They were qualities that served him so well at the game’s every level. They were what made him so endearing to so many of us who knew him and those who did not. Who can forget his 1957-58 season with the Canadiens, midway through a dynasty that was to win a record five Stanley Cups in a row? A broken wrist he suffered during a collision with Detroit defenceman Marcel Pronovost threatened to cut short a scoring championship year. Moore, the competitor, wanted to win the Art Ross. He had his eye on the prize, but Moore, the team man, had other ideas. One night, when the Canadiens were travelling on the train, he asked for a meeting with coach Toe Blake and his linemates, Maurice and Henri Richard. At the time, Henri was Dickie’s closest pursuer in the scoring race. Dickie told them he could still play with his wrist in a cast, but for how long? And as long as he played with an injury that would sideline most players, how much could he contribute to the line? “It’s not fair to Henri,” Moore told Blake. “It’s not fair not to allow him to win the scoring title.” The meeting lasted no more than a few minutes. It ended abruptly when Maurice and Henri told Blake: “There’s no damned way he’s going off the line.” Moore remained on the line. He played with his wrist imprisoned in a cast for the second half of the season. He won the Ross with an NHL-leading 36 goals and 48 assists in a 70-game season. Henri finished four points behind. Moore won it again the following year with 41 goals and 55 assists. How much did Dickie mean to the Canadiens? In the six-team league, no rivalry was as fierce as the Maple Leafs and the Canadiens. Hardly a game would pass without the benches being cleared. One night, in Toronto, Henri moved in to check Frank Mahovlich. The latter had all kinds of room. Instead, he fired the puck directly at Richard’s head. Dickie led the charge off the bench. After the period, GM Selke hurried to the Canadiens room with a message for Blake. “Don’t start Moore in the next period,” he told Blake. “Why not?” “We don’t need that kind of trouble,” Selke snapped. Dickie started the third period. Moore, the player, was like the Park Extension district in which he grew up: tough and relentless. His heart was almost too big for his own good. Winning for his team was what he loved; losing was what he hated. If fighting was needed, Moore would fight. If playing with pain was needed, nobody on the Canadiens had to ask him twice. Speed wasn’t among Dickie’s strong points, but few players performed with more finesse despite bad knees which plagued him throughout his career — and beyond. He didn’t out-skate opponents, but his strength was in out-thinking them. Few players handled the puck as well as he did, and nobody was as good in a one-on-one with a goaltender. He overcame adversity better than most players, but what he couldn’t handle was the frustration of not playing, which happens to so many players late in their careers. The Canadiens were in Chicago on this night, only a few days before Christmas. The cracks had widened in the dynasty that had won Stanley Cups from 1955-56 through 1959-60. The Rocket had been forced into retirement prior to the start of the 1960-61 season. Dickie’s best friend on the team, Doug Harvey, had been shipped to the Rangers after the 1961-62 season. In the two seasons following their astonishing string of five consecutive Stanley Cups, the Canadiens had finished first in their division, but failed to get beyond the first round. Changes were needed and, as a result, a few of the veterans spent a lot of time on the bench. Against the Blackhawks, Dickie was among them. He knocked on my hotel room door at 2 a.m. “You awake?” he asked. “Yeah, I’m always awake at two o’clock in the morning. What’s up?” “I’m going home in the morning,” he said. “I can’t take this any longer. There’s no point hanging around if I’m not playing.” “Whoa! Did I hear you say you’re quitting the team?” I asked. “Is that the way you want people to remember Dickie Moore? As a quitter? If you leave now, that’s the way you’ll be remembered,” he was told. “And face it, Dickie, right now you’re not doing a hell of a lot out there when you’re on the ice.” “Can’t score sitting on the bench,” he muttered. “Have you talked to Toe about it?” “I haven’t told him I’m going home, but I’ve made up my mind. If I can’t play, I’d much rather be at home with the family,” Moore said. “I can handle anything the fans will say about this. They’re not sitting on the bench. I am,” he added. We argued about it for the next two hours. Finally, Moore said: “OK, here’s what I’m gonna do. I’ll go with the team to Detroit. If I don’t play, I’m gone. I’m playing pretty well when I get on the ice, but I can’t buy a goal.” “Try shooting more often,” he was told. “Whenever you’re on the ice, all you do is pass the puck to Henri.” Moore was in the starting lineup two nights later. Henri won the faceoff and dropped the puck back to Moore. He was only one stride across centre ice when he released a rising shot at Terry Sawchuk. Goal! The press box in the old Detroit Olympia was fairly close to the ice. The instant the puck eluded Sawchuk, Moore raced down the left side of the rink, swept around behind the net and skated along the boards. Then, as he approached the press box he looked up, raised his stick and waved it. The smile he wore lit up the arena. Later in the game, he scored a second goal. He was to score 24 goals in 67 games in that 1962-63 season, his last with the Canadiens. He stayed out of hockey the next season, returned to play 38 games with Toronto in 1964-65, stayed out of hockey for the next two seasons, but answered Scotty Bowman’s call in St. Louis in 1967-68, when the NHL doubled in size to 12 teams. The Canadiens arrived in St. Louis for their first meeting with the Blues roughly 20 games into that expansion season. Both teams were struggling at the time. The Blues were in last place of the West Division, the Canadiens last in the East. The Canadiens won what had been a tight game — Bowman’s first with St. Louis as head coach. He had a message for me. “I’m bringing in your friend,” he said. “Yeah? Who?” “Dickie.” There was no need to mention the surname. For me, going back to his junior days, there was only one Dickie. The Blues had been attracting only 5,000 fans at most of their games up to that point in the season, but with the addition of Moore and Harvey, they played to sellout crowds and finished the season in third place with 70 points in a 74-game schedule. Dickie scored only five goals and three assists in 27 games. The Blues beat Philadelphia in seven games in the first round. Then, they needed a goal from Larry Keenan 4:10 into the second overtime of Game 7 in a 2-1 victory over Minnesota to move into the Stanley Cup final against the Canadiens. They fell in four, but the Canadiens needed overtime goals in two of the games. Dickie led the Blues with seven goals in 18 playoff games. He assisted on another seven. This time he retired for good. The greatest moment of his Hall of Fame career came on Nov. 12, 2005, when, through misty eyes, he watched his No. 12 raised to the rafters. You wonder what players think about at times like these, but what I knew for certain was that he was thinking about his mother, Ida, and his father, Charles, a city of Montreal employee who worked so hard to raise 10 kids. He was thinking about his brothers Charlie, Bill, Eddie, Bert, Tommy, Danny, Reggie, Jimmy and his sister Dolly — wishing they were all there. Sadly, by then, all gone, except Jimmy, who has since passed away, but he could feel their arms around him. He could feel their love. He was thinking about his son, Dickie Jr., who had died alone in the darkness of an early morning decades earlier in a one-car accident on a road leading to Arundel in the Laurentians. He was thinking about his wife, Joan, who has never fully recovered from her son’s death. He was thinking about his daughter Lianne and his son, John. Laughter always has come easily to Dickie, as it does to all of those marvellous people who have the rare quality of enjoying life to the fullest. Too many people I know don’t regard a day complete unless they can convince themselves and others that life is beating their brains out. They don’t care who knows it. They wear their misery on their sleeves. They depress me. Not Dickie. He always made the day brighter. I can remember a time in 1960 when the Candiens held their training camp in Victoria. One day, we were walking through the halls of the hotel where the team stayed. Not a sound was heard in the hotel’s greenhouse — except for some squeaks. “What are those strange noises?” he was asked. “Those aren’t strange noises,” he said. “They’re my knees.” Like the rest of us, Dickie had his share of bad times. He could be breaking up inside, but he always regarded tears as private things. It stayed in the family. Joy and laughter were what he shared with others … always trying to make the people around him feel better. He cared for people, young and old alike. I will miss so much about him. His courage. His laughter. His bad jokes. His goodness. Some years ago, Dickie was involved in a life-threatening accident. It happened in Dorion on Aug. 27, 2006, under a pelting rain. He was slowly leaving a shopping mall’s parking area when he was sideswiped on the driver’s side by a truck. Forty-five minutes passed before rescuers were able to remove him from his vehicle. He was rushed to the Montreal General Hospital, where doctors discovered he had suffered spinal and neck injuries. Eleven broken ribs. A knee injury. There were fears his kidney had been punctured. There was massive bleeding. Several days before the accident, Dickie had visited the resting place of his son. “It won’t be long now, Richard,” he said. “It won’t be long.” Dickie Jr.’s death so many years ago had left huge holes that never fully mended in the hearts of those he left behind. A boy: dead at 17. How do you deal with that? Somehow, Dickie did. On Saturday, when so many of us wept, father and son finally embraced
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    we are psyched to lay down some heavy Psche ♫ there will be a special tribute to an album that has been on the charts since 1973, over 1500 weeks featuring the sounds of Drew slater on keys it should be a nice mix of music, atmosphere, and good vibes come and Space your face with us !! <iframe width="420" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/x56mFbNvlEc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
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    The Cage 292 (292 College st, at Spadina, Toronot) is now running it's Psychedelic Fridays weekly. https://www.facebook.com/PsychedelicFridays Dec. 5 , The Mark T. Band: An Evening of Jerry Garcia Band Music https://www.facebook.com/marktband?fref=ts Dec/ 12 Mike Hopkins and The Formula: Original Funk w/ The Better Lates Dec/ 19 Caution Jam: X mas party https://www.facebook.com/cautionjam?fref=ts also many more soon including Must Stash Hat, Jackets , Diesel Dog and more Our main room holds 170 with Concert sound and our front room stage holds 50 -70 on a small intimate system. Come on out and support the local jamband scene on a weekly. Please "like" us on Facebook and don't forget to "like" the bands that we are hosting. They are the reason we doing it!
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    Great stuff. I know I had this as filler on a different Dylan show on VHS in the early/mid nineties and I've only saw the DVD circulating once, years ago - titled "Silver Wilburys" I believe, not sure why that name was used. It got taken down from a semi-private Dylan tracker (now long gone). IIRC, they removed it due to the poor quality of the DVD authoring. The video isn't great, but considering its sourced from VHS, and an on the fly recording for an unannounced Dylan/Harrison/Forgerty performance in 1987? Still pretty cool. This was first time Forgerty had played any CCR songs in 20+ years, at Dylan's request.
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  28. 1 point

    RIP Kevin Rieth

    Ugh. This just gutted me to read this. I knew the day was coming one day but very sad. He has fought hard. His brother Brian is also a dedicated music lover and supporter. Slow deterioration is an incredibly difficult reality to be saddled with. I've known nothing but positivity and light from these guys. Humbling. My sincere love and condolences.
  29. 1 point

    Untold Stories of Paul McCartney

    The more you know
  30. 1 point
    Freak By Night

    Forums have been moved - finally

    Thank Mike.
  31. 1 point
    Davey Boy 2.0

    Forums have been moved - finally

    just kidding...^that didn't actually happen but the site looks way better, mon ami
  32. 1 point
    Illumination Presents and Flat Cat Productions Invite You to Share in an Evening of Grateful Dead and Phish with: Sat. Feb 3rd, 2018 Whose Cat Is Dead&A Solo Acoustic Phish Set by Rich Grossman of The Lizards Tickets: https://www.eventbrite.ca/o/whose-cat-is-dead-13106232889 Relatively new to the scene, the veteran musicians that make up Whose Cat Is Dead are really turning "heads" within the jam community. As a 4-piece act interpreting the catalog of the Grateful Dead, WCID have the luxury of musical space that comes along with a more "stripped down" approach. With a driving, powerful rhythm section, soaring keys, Jerry-like yet still fresh guitar, and some of the best 3-part harmonies in the business, this crew are quickly gaining fans new and old. Adam Bernstein - drums and vocals Kimberly Manning - key and vocals Mark Thackway - guitar and vocals Mikey Vukovich - bass and vocals The Lizards virtuoso guitar slinger, Rich Grossman, has been wowing crowds with the band since making their debut in November of 2013, playing sold out shows and festivals to hundreds of fans. The band’s main goal is to recreate the Phish Experience. Whether it’s their ever changing setlists, synchronized dancing (or trampoline-ing) or touring with their own lighting rig and director (TG5), the band is committed to giving people that same feeling as the one we’ve all felt many times before. The Lizards make it possible to gain that experience in our own backyard, with many feeling it’s been a long time coming that a band can create a community in this country for such a style of music. The Lizards intend to show everyone that they, above all things, can once again bring together a congregation of like-minded people that all want the same things: good times, good music & sore legs! Rich has agreed to perform a special acousitc set of Phish songs for this show. Come and see what he has up his sleeve! ***** PLEASE NOTE THAT DUE TO A SPONSORSHIP FROM OUR FRIENDS AT WHERE HEADS MEET IN HAMILTON THE COST OF BUSSING PLUS ADMISSION HAS DECREASED TO $30! ***** (Tickets will be available at the door for $20)
  33. 1 point

    Chinalog (in honour of Bradm)

    110317 When we first arrived at the Yangshuo train terminal (which is actually more than thirty kilometres away from Yangshuo) we hopped in with a cab driver named Mo to get to our hotel. Along the way he pointed out this and that, eventually offering to show us all around the area for a full day for Y400. We told him we hadn’t made any plans yet, but I did take his card. And after four days in Yangshuo we decided that the best (only?) way to see the main sites in the area would be to do exactly what Mo suggested. Frankly, our hotel lady suggested the same thing, though she said she would arrange it for Y450 for the day. The extra $10 notwithstanding, I liked Mo and I liked that he spoke pretty good English. And Mo, if you are somehow reading this, I swear I tore apart everything I had trying to find your business card. But I couldn’t find it, so we ended up with the same cabbie that took us to and from the Impression light show the previous night, Chim (or was in Ching? Maybe Cheen?). We were ready and waiting at 9am, Chim (I’m gonna go with Chim) arrived a short time later in her small, blue four-door Volkswagen Santana. We briefly discussed our itinerary, buckled in and off we went. As we were cruising through town headed towards our first destination I became acutely aware of three things: 1) I needed coffee. 2) I was pretty darn hungry, having eaten only mock-Pringles and mock-Oreos for my mock-dinner the night before, and 3) we were on the road that I knew would go by West Street, where all the Western food chains were. I asked if we could stop in and Chim said “sure”. We bypassed the Starbucks (their coffee isn’t as good as it is back home and it’s very, very expensive. Like, we’re talking $5 for a small coffee expensive), instead opting for the McDonald’s next door. We each got a coffee and I ordered myself a sausage McMuffin and a chicken McMuffin. Okay, I ordered them both as meals to save a few yuan and I got a couple of free hash browns out of the deal. So, here’s the thing with me and sausage McMuffins: I thought I loved them for years and years before I finally admitted to myself (enough times) that I don’t actually like them very much at all. Really, it was the fact that they were only available before 10am that got me. I am seldom up and out of the house before 10am so on the rare occasion that I was and I saw a McDonald’s I would generally pull in and order myself a sausage McMuffin*. Okay, I’d usually order three. And of course, after eating three greasy meat sandwiches without any condiments I would always feel a little ill. And while I admitted this to myself every single time it wasn’t until I started admitting it out loud to Heather that I finally realized that I don’t really like sausage McMuffins. And yet I’d still stop in for one when I got the chance, but at least I cut it down to just one at a time. I still didn’t like them, but the tummyache wouldn’t be as bad. And you know what finally got me to stop ordering them? When McDonald’s started offering breakfast anytime. Sausage McMuffins are no longer a limited commodity so they no longer hold any allure to me. I really should see a psychologist. Anyway, the reason I ordered one on this day (or so I’m telling myself) was because they were only serving breakfast and I don’t eat eggs that come from McDonald’s (a guy’s gotta have standards, right?). I can report that it was better than back home, if only because the cheese was cheesier. The chicken McMuffin on the other hand was a disappointment. I only remember seeing such a thing on a McDonald’s menu once before (in Romania, though I didn’t get one then) and I assumed it was a junior chicken patty served on an english muffin. Nope. It was actually chopped-up bits of real chicken, with some…was it cole slaw?…in place of McChicken sauce. Though it was much real-er food than I expected I didn’t like it as much as I think I would have liked the McChicken patty, but it was still pretty okay. I’d like to say that the hash browns were the same as they are in North America but I’m not sure, as I haven’t had McDonald’s hash browns in probably thirty years or more. But really, the important thing was the coffee which, while sub-par, hit the spot bang-on. I suppose it’s a bit ironic then that the first stop of our day tour was at a tea plantation. Chim drove us up a mountain and led us through a building to the back deck where endless mountains lined with tea plants (trees?) spread as far as the haze would allow us to see. We gaped and gazed and took a thousand pictures, which was good practise for the rest of our day, which would also include a lot of gazing and picture-taking. After about ten minutes someone brought us two glasses (yes, glasses) of tea, one green and one regular. I’m not much of a tea drinker but the regular one was all right I guess, but nothing to write home about (despite all this typing). The green tea tasted like warm water. And both of them caused me to get leaves in my mouth every time I took a sip. They should invent a cup (or a glass) with a screen near the bottom to filter out the leaves. Way easier than a teabag, especially when there isn’t a teabag. Cruising through the hilly terrain on our way to the next, unspoken destination Chim pulled off at a few viewing spots so we could do a little gazing and picture-taking. I tell you, these karst pokey-outey mountains are just so remarkably picturesque (and gaziesque); I could just stare at them forever. The mist that looks suspiciously like smog doesn’t hurt the old eyes either. Okay, sometimes it does kind of sting one’s eyes, but it sure helps the whole place look pretty magical. (Chim told us the mist meant rain was coming soon. Yeah right. If that’s true then it has been threatening rain every day since we arrived in China, and we haven’t seen a drop of rain.) Our next stop was some mountain that purported to offer nice views from the top. We weren’t deterred one bit by the one thousand steps we would have to climb for the view, but we were deterred many bits by the Y60 per person fee to do so. After climbing up the mountain in Xing Ping a day earlier there was no way we were interested in dropping $25 to do it again. Plus with the pending rain (yeah, right) the view probably wouldn’t have been that great anyways. We told Chim we weren’t interested and got back in the car for the next journey. Which ended up being another unspoken stop on the tour, at a place called Shangri La. No, not the real Shangri La. This was one of those pioneer villages, set up to depict traditional life a long time ago, when things were traditional. At least that’s what it looked like from a distance. Bailing on the mountain trek saved us an hour or so, which I suppose is what inspired Chim to walk us around the perimeter of Shangri La. It was pleasant, with lots of nice scenery, and it easily ate up that hour we had gained. Next we drove to a bridge that was surrounded by bamboo boats, much like the one we rode the previous day in Xing Ping. The bridge was nice enough, but again we surprised Chim when we told her we weren’t interested in a boat tour. I lingered trying to get a shot of the bridge without any people on it while Heather stopped to buy herself the cutest bamboo hat ever. Next up was another bridge but this one is actually quite famous. It might be called Dragon Bridge, I’m not entirely sure, but I do know that it is over six hundred years old. Okay, I’m not completely sure about that either, it might have been four hundred years old. Anyways, it was certainly very ancient and it is quite a sight besides, and amazingly enough we almost managed to get pictures of it with nobody up there. I say “almost” because there was a guy sitting near the top of the bridge the whole time we were there, and he was endlessly playing with his phone and picking his nose. It was so frustrating. There were two different wedding shoots taking place at the bridge when we were there and at one point one of the professional photographers asked the dude to move. He iLooked up from his snot and phone and immediately obliged, moving from the top of one side of the bridge to the top of the other side, spoiling an entirely different half of the photo opportunities. As we crossed the bridge to leave I sarcastically explained to Heather that the guy must just love having his picture taken, so as I walked by him I stuck my camera in his face and clicked off about ten pictures, turning backwards to do so as I strolled by. He looked up as I took the first shot and casually went back to his business, completely oblivious and/or not caring about my intended transgression at all. I should just let stuff like that go. I don’t know the dude’s story. Maybe he was texting his ancestors who built the bridge in the first place, how do I know? Let’s see, what was next on the agenda? Oh, I think it was Moon Hill, which is a mountain with a crescent-shaped hole in it. Again it was a big climb, but at only Y10 per person it felt like a steal, so up we went. This was probably the highlight of the day, and while I found Moon Hill much more picturesque from a distance it was great to arrive at the top and have the whole place to ourselves (except two old ladies that were trying desperately to sell me some water, Coke, beer, or postcards. How many times can a guy say, “I’m sorry, no thanks”?). Just as we started coming back down we ran into another couple coming up, then another, and then a tour of British girls. I hope the two old ladies did brisk business after we left. As the day wore on we learned lots of things from Chim. I found out that the circular concrete planters we often saw were indeed graves (Chim seemed spooked out that I even asked…Chinese tend to be very death-averse) and I discovered that the character I kept seeing that looks like the letter J with wings - /J\ - means what I thought it did: small. “Shua” is how it’s pronounced. I already knew da and chung, meaning medium (or middle or centre) and large and it occurred to me that the reason I didn’t know the character for “small” was because I had learned the other two from ordering pizza when I spent a summer in Taiwan twenty years ago, and I never, ever order small pizzas. I should say that we learned most of these things in a very curious way. Y’see, Chim doesn’t speak hardly any English at all, and outside of ordering pizza my Mandarin is almost non-existent, but she has this babel app on her phone (that’s what I call it) where she can speak into it and a voice will instantly spit out the translation. Alternatively, we could speak English into her phone and it would translate into Mandarin for her. Pretty astounding, pretty handy, and pretty common too. We’ve seen it several times since we arrived; it’s a real game changer and yet another reason why I’m glad neither of us has a cell phone. (As inconvenient and frustrating as it can sometimes be, one of the big reasons I travel is to find barriers and overcome them. When travelling, even the most mundane tasks can often turn into crazy, challenging adventures, and if it gets too easy that will go away. Don’t get me wrong, I take things pretty easy, just not too easy.) Our last stop of the day was the one I was looking forward to the most: Silver Cave. I’m a fan of caves in the first place, and the picture in the brochure of Silver Cave was so colourful, unique and engaging that I really wanted to check it out. I was concerned that I was going to be more taken with the photographer’s skills than the cave itself, a worry I often point out to Heather when she comments that a hotel looks nice online (“Is it a great hotel or just a great picture?” I always wonder), but if you don’t go you won’t know. Now I know. I’ve been in quite a few caves in my day so I know they are chilly, usually about 65 degrees or so, so I changed into a long shirt before going in (I was already wearing jeans, which I had regretted a few times already during the hot, sweaty day). We got our tickets and English earsets and stepped into the cavern. And I soon found out that any idiot with a camera could easily best the pics in the brochure, and the reason why is because the cave is lit with coloured lights. It makes every picture look like gold. Heather and I marvelled after the first few shots, “Why doesn’t every cave do this?” We soon discovered why. Though picturesque as all-get-out the coloured lights actually make it hard to really appreciate the natural beauty of a cave, partially because of uneven, eye-tricking lighting and partly because the candy-colours are so distracting. We took tons of excellent shots, but had a hard time enjoying what was otherwise one of the more interesting and beautiful caves either of us has seen. There were two other mitigating factors: The place was packed with people, we’re talking wall-to-wall packed. There are just so many people in China…it’s really hard to fathom. It was a massive, slow-moving throng and when the cave would bottleneck it would literally be as densely packed as the Toronto subway during rush hour. Seriously. And all those people are probably what led to the other problem, which really dampened our pleasure (pun intended, as they all are). Instead of being a cool 65 degrees in there it was swelteringly muggy. Halfway through the two kilometre trek we were both drenched in sweat and clamouring for the cave to end. And here I was dressed up for the North Pole. After enjoying a pretty tiring day already, amazing as the cave was we couldn’t get out of there soon enough. (Another likely reason that it didn’t cool down in the cave is because after entering we only went up instead of down. When we exited the cave we were actually two or three storeys higher up than where we had started.) When we emerged, the hot air outside felt like a cool refreshing breeze. We made our way back to Chim’s car and rode back to Yangshuo with all the windows down. Though we were both half-starved and in bad need of a shower I couldn’t resist asking Chim to pull over for one last photo op, as the nearly-full moon rose big and yellow behind the unreal mountain range. Of course cameras in the hands of amateurs can never make such pictures match reality but you can rest assured, it was a remarkable sight. Back at the hotel the shower felt like a million bucks and dinner tasted like gold. It’s hard to believe the entire day of driving around cost the same amount of money as our two tickets to that lame, seventy-minute light show the night before. But like I say, if you don’t go, you won’t know. *Remember, that’s a sausage McMuffin without egg. My gawd, back in the days before the sausage McMuffin hit the value menu it was almost impossible to get one without an egg patty on it no matter how many times you told the dude at the counter that you wanted “a sausage McMuffin WITHOUT egg. I don’t want any egg whatsoever. Please, please don’t bring me a sandwich with egg on it.”
  34. 1 point
    Bump. Tickets available at www.fatcats.eventbrite.com. I believe if you enter the promo code "fatcats" you save another $5 on top of advance sale pricing.
  35. 1 point
    Pablo Sanchez

    Epic Covers

    Patrick Baker covering some Amish looking guy I've never heard of.
  36. 1 point

    It's still here!

    I heard a rumour before playing a show in Hamilton that this site and forum was in fact still here! This is great to see! Regards, Mike
  37. 1 point
    Pablo Sanchez


    I spent four hours looking at properties in Costa Rica and re-evaluating my life. Not some knee jerk reaction to the election but more taking stock of everything as it is and wondering if an escape to the jungle is the best course of action. lol
  38. 1 point

    PleasureCraft @ Rainbow (Ott.) July 1

    On Friday, July 1, 2016, PleasureCraft (live audio of them is here) will be playing at The Rainbow Bistro in Ottawa, ON. The door time is 9:30pm. A Facebook event for the show can be found at https://www.facebook.com/events/1726173510976816/ Aloha, Brad
  39. 1 point

    2016 Ottawa Jazz Festival

    DaveC got some video: Aloha, Brad
  40. 1 point

    2016 - A Space Oddity

  41. 1 point
    20 years ago today we played our first gig in Thunder Bay at Crocks n Rolls with what was to become Burt Neilson Band a few months later. Here's a recording of that show... we're quite young, so listen with that in mind. wink emoticon https://soundcloud.com/elcaptainredbea…/42096-crocks-n-rolls I've been writing stuff down lately, and pulled this excerpt out for today about how I met the guys and the lead up to that first show. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- captain redbeard.................................................................... It would have been in the Fall of 1995 that my high school shoegazer band Julian was playing at Crocks n Rolls with Ngoma, a many-membered World Beat band that rolled through town pretty often. I was wearing my favourite Grateful Dead shirt that night, I think just to be kinda punk against our faux British scene. While packing up after our set, a tall guy with long blonde dreads and a middle nose piercing came up to the stage and asked if I was interested in coming out and jamming some Dead and Allmans on the organ sometime with him and some other dudes. I didn’t know any Allman Brothers stuff, but thought that playing some Grateful Dead could be fun. This was Will Roberts. I had met him the previous summer in my back yard at 19 Crown St, which was an infamous free-spirited street in Thunder Bay, just south of Hillcrest Park. Cheap rent, lots of old houses, lots of students and lots of hippies. There was a pretty great community of friends that lived around there, including my pal James Mason who had moved into the main floor of 19 Crown a while back, sleeping in a pretty swank closet under the stairs! We hung there quite a bit, and when the apartment upstairs came up for rent, he suggested I move in. So I did. I convinced my best pal, Jerome Santos to move in with me, and we set about splitting $450/month for a rather rundown but funky 2nd floor apartment. This became THE spot for our gang, as we were the first of our group of friends our age to get their own pad, and we took full advantage of it. Parties, parties and more parties. Late nights, all nights... you name it. I put a couch in my bedroom!! I could do that kind of thing now that I was on my own. James' roommate downstairs was a girl named Jessica Rosa, and over the summer of 95, a guy she knew from her hometown of Brantford had moved to Thunder Bay. I first introduced to Will on a beautiful sunny day sharing a joint on the steps behind our house. So I didn’t actually know how to play any Grateful Dead songs, but knew the tunes well enough and figured I could follow along. I was really eager as a musician around this time, taking in all the new music I could. And I wasn't scared to jump into something completely new either. This was when I realized I couldn’t play keyboards as well as I might have thought. At this point, my recent hobby of guitar playing had easily surpassed my piano skill! So when I got together with Will to jam, I found I really didn’t know what I was doing. I was self taught on the keys, and came up playing relatively simple one-finger New Order and Depeche Mode synth lines. Easy stuff a kid with a synthesizer could handle. Darryl Lahteenmah, drummer and musical genius of Julian, showed me where to put my fingers for any chord work I’d ever done with that band, not really telling me what chords I was playing. I had to start learning what hand positions were what chords, and start linking that up with my ears and my brain. I came up with a few of my own in this period! I had a good chunk of band experience, but what I was getting into opened up a whole new realm of stuff I needed to take in. That first jam was myself with my Hammond L141 and mini Leslie, Will on bass, Jeffrey Kornblum on red drums with red cymbals, with Dan Denomme on acoustic guitar - and it was super fun. We got good and stoned… a couple times, and played in Jeffrey and Dan’s living room at 244 Secord St for hours. The music I'd been playing my whole life had been so structured, never with any room to open up and be improvised by a whole group. Of course, I had no improv skills at the time, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the hell out of letting loose like that. There’s a good chance we wound up drinking a pile of six dollar pitchers at the Italian Hall afterwards too. We all quickly agreed we’d have to do it again real soon. When I showed up the next time, Dan told me that this guy Mike was gonna come out that night, and he seemed pretty excited about it. I think he was supposed to come to the first jam we had, but couldn't make it for some reason or another. Right away I realized I’d seen Mike Filipowitsch play before - he was this dude I’d watched at the university bar The Outpost earlier in the Fall playing Dead songs on his acoustic guitar…. mostly incorrectly. But wow! Could he ever play. When he started jamming with us, it took off to a whole new level. And he could sing too! I recall being blown away by his voice. Mike then told me he had opened up for Julian a year earlier. He was on first, and apparently we didn’t say more than a few words to him and were kind of assholes. Figures. We used to sign posters with FYWJ. Fuck you, we’re Julian. Mike later told me, and continues to insist, I didn’t say a word to him that whole first jam. I guess I was and still am pretty shy. I do recall early in our knowing each other asking Mike if he wanted me to run up the street and grab my Gibson Les Paul Custom for him to play rather than his acoustic… to which he replied, “Why would I want to play that?” Classic Mike. Eventually he did play it. It was a beautiful instrument. University broke for for the holidays in December. I wasn’t going to school anywhere, just living on Crown St and working as a line cook at a Casey’s restaurant. When everyone got back from school, we didn’t jam for what seemed like a long time. I had even left my organ at the Secord house… a place they all referred to as DINKPIG, which was the house phone number. I guess we weren't doing any Julian jamming at this time either, who I was still fully playing with. I remember kinda feeling bad about not seeing the Secord guys for a few months, and it wasn’t until February or March that we jammed again. All those guys were from Southern Ontario and in Thunder Bay for school, so I guess they were focusing on that. Mike was from Kitchener, Jeffrey was from Toronto, Dan from Windsor, and Will from Brantford. I finally spoke to Jeffrey and set up another time to come over and play. When I showed up, I found out Will was no longer the bass player. This kid named Jeremy Little was now playing bass… and I didn’t like him. He quickly became one of my best friends, but at the time he was 18 years old, pushy and kind of aggressive. I think the first thing he told me was "I have 80 bootleg Phish tapes." He had brought his pal Lowell Binstock along to play a second drumkit. A guy I knew from the Crown St clan named Chris Leishman was there too playing congas. We got right back to it, getting together pretty regularly and playing with this new line up. Some mutual friends, Blair Lehman and Jeff Gibbons, ran a Thursday night jam at Crocks n Rolls, which we decided we should start showing up at. We put together a 'set'… Eyes of the World, New New Minglewood Blues, and strangely, just the second half of You Enjoy Myself, by a band called Phish the guys had started getting me into. I think we did 2 or 3 Thursdays, gradually building up a crowd of friends showing up, before we finally set up our own night. We’d been able to book April 20th, 1996, as the first show that wasn’t just a jam night. We even got paid! The guys all loved that this was the 20th day of the 4th month, something I'd never clued into before. We’d taken on the name Captain Redbeard, which being red bearded myself, I didn’t mind at all. It was better than The Dinkmen, which is I think what folks were referring to us as. I almost didn’t even go to that show! I was having some kind of crisis with my hair, and was feeling really self conscious, and strongly considered not even leaving the house and just bailing on the whole night. I came pretty close to doing that, but eventually convinced myself I could and should do it. We had booked two other bands to play with us that night. I don’t remember the first band’s name… similar to us but more bluesy and Allmans-y. After them was Apollo Groove Shuttle, a band made up of some local T Bay guys I knew. Andy, Luke, Myles, Tim, who played amazing guitar, and Esenge, who was killer vocalist. They were stunning… good enough that I was more than concerned about how our set would go over. But by the time our slot came up, the crowd made it easy for us to go up and do our thing. As did the booze. With everyone in the band but me being students at Lakehead University, we collectively had a ton of friends who filled the small bar, partying like we were the actual bands we were covering. They used to really cram them in at Crocks, and I think there was close to 200 people there. We played mainly our favourite parts of songs as opposed to the whole thing. The set opened with Wilson by Phish… just the chant part, that we switched up for “Caaaaaptaaaain…” and eventually sped up and went into New New Minglewood Blues. We played all of Eyes of the World next! A jam of Jer’s, Cyan Water followed, which went into the end funky part of You Enjoy Myself, ending with the Deodato/Phish version of Also Sprach Zarathustra. The one ‘original’ tune… Cyan Water, was basically just two chords over and over and over and over, with Jeremy saying "Cyannnn Waterrrrrr" occasionally. I never knew what that meant. Rather than write more changes, we opted to jump up and down at a certain point in the song. We even incorporated a change somewhere that was cued by Mike doing ‘crazy stuff with his head’ as we called it. If you've ever seen Dan play, especially in those days, you wouldn't be surprised that he sliced his hand open in the middle of the gig strumming his guitar like a malfunctioning weedwhacker, splattering blood everywhere inside it. Actually, it was Mike’s guitar that he was using, and redecorating. Mike played my Gibson. I’m sure the band alone out drank most of the room, and everyone was in great spirits that night. This was a bit of an end of year party, and was also one of the last shows ever at Crocks n Rolls, which closed it’s doors very shortly after that night after 13 years of supporting great music in the Lakehead. There was typically a good fight in the street afterwards, and it felt like it took us forever to pack up all our stuff once it was all done. I’m sure the 3 guys that helped me move my Hammond at the end of the night were feeling as little pain as I was. That night was one of my all time favourite stage moments… the kind of night I still strive for, hitting on a part of performing that I’d never experienced before. I was 20. I had all my hair. And I now I had a new band that I felt like I could do anything with. I think we all felt like we’d hit on something special.
  42. 1 point

    Forums upgrade

    Same for me. I went into the epic covers thread and edited my posts. All I did was cut the URL I had already posted and re-pasted it. Automatically showed the video.
  43. 1 point
  44. 1 point
    What a killer show. Hard to believe that you rarely gig. Rectify that, please.
  45. 1 point
    I got MLB the Show 2015 for the ps3 this year. I updated my roster after the Tulo and Price trades and played the playoffs. I had a ball game the next day and said this to the guys on my team: "Holy shit guys. I just updated the Jays roster on the Show. It's pretty freaking insane." We got this. I'm so scared. Beer should help.
  46. 1 point
    Hopefully you're still making it to the couch tour in Point Clark Sean.
  47. 1 point

    Today's history lesson

    I am still there.
  48. 1 point
    leave my place open as an option for webcast c-towns, if the webcast happens and you get shut out. That goes for anybody else around here also.
  49. 1 point

    Live long and prosper

    Heard about him being rushed to hospital the other week. Considering his recent mentions of his lung disease taking a turn for the worse it's seems the rumors were accurate. Sad news. I always liked him, on and off Star Trek. Apparently his last post.
  50. 1 point
    Northern Wish

    A/B testing Pono vs. iPhone

    It is pretty amazing what my phone - and I assume most phones, can do with music. I transfer higher quality mp3's (usually of the 320 variety) and have a whole slew of equalizer and sound file options to alter the sound (read: reduce treble). With good headphones (I use Bose), the proper EQ settings and the "Tube Amp" option - my tunes sounds spectacular. And my phone didn't cost $400 for the unit, along $25 per album - but I can also make phone calls! Sorry Neil but the last couple of years have really tarnished the sterling reputation you had enjoyed to this point.
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