the night is young, and so are we

This is a story about two boys in the woods at night.

Recently, while visiting back home, myself and a great group of friends attended a housewarming party in the Pond Mills area of London. After several hours of good times and a multitude of alcoholic beverages, it was time to make the trek home. Seeing as Pond Mills is an area that I would almost qualify as desolate (in terms of London's outline), we decided against taking a cab until we'd arrived at a major road on foot. I had a pretty good idea where we were about 20 minutes into the journey, and I knew that we were nowhere near cab territory. I'm talkin' country-road-no-streetlights-in-sight kind of nowhere. Two friends decided they would call a cab and wait. I had other plans.

I convinced my friend Bryan that we were going to make a fucking pilgrimage, like men, like our grandfathers fathers would. There we were, two boys, walking through the woods, approaching the morning light. I had convinced Bryan to make this journey based on the fact that it would be a funny memory and that it's what two Canadian guys should be doing in winter.

This is something I do on a very regular basis. You see, my theory is twofold.
1. There is absolutely no reason not to make memories, or at least attempt to. I would say more that 50 per cent of any of my actions provides me with some satisfaction, whether it's crossing the street on a diagonal or taking the longest way home. Adventure drives me, as does the quest to make a good story. The need to be entertained, or entertain, is at the core of any of my actions and decisions.
2. If you're going to get shit-faced you might as well use it to your advantage. I can't tell you how many friends I've used this line on, only because it makes absolute sense to me. What's the point? Getting drunk is not very easy to do. Yet once you finally achieve inebriation, you just throw that money away (in a sense) by hitting the sheets? (unless you're about to have sex, which is totally different). All of my closest friends have experienced this with me in one way or another. Three that come to mind are scaling buildings (do it safely please), swindling hospital security guards into allowing us to use a shortcut through the lobby, and hijacking a boat in Toronto harbor in order to use the bathroom. Those last two happened on the same night by the way. I could literally write a memoir on every intoxicated (mis)adventure I've had over the years. Call that what you want, but remember I'm the one with the tales.

So back to the woods.
I cannot put into words the feelings I get when on Canadian safari. During this night, we jumped creeks, hopped rusty fences, battled chest-high grasses, evaded headlights, and ascended underpasses - all in an effort just to get home. We laughed, struggled, and helped one another make the journey home, which was a staggering 7 kilometers. In fact, the photo seen at the top of the page behind the header is one of the fields we crossed.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that life is often too easy. It's easy to hop in a cab and be escorted home, and I'm not saying I don't take advantage of that sometimes. I suppose what I'm getting at is that sometimes you have to sacrifice your own personal comforts in an attempt to have some fun and make memories for yourself. It's also to important to remind ourselves that not only is life easy, it's fucking short. The night is young, and so are we. Let's hop some fences already.

*top photo. Bryan and I, Vancouver, 2007

flashes in a wood shop

As I'd hoped, the shoot went fantastically. Even better than I'd hoped.

I arrived to meet the new principle of Beal, Don Macphereson around 2:30 pm today. He was a really nice guy. Him and I chatted until Dave, the head janitor, arrived at the office. At this point, to my surprise, the two gave me a full-access Visitors Pass, as well as the janitors master key which opens every classroom in the school. This was seriously some sort of dream come true.
The shoot was very expedient, and although I would have loved to mull around my teenage classrooms longer, there was work to be done. Off to Mountsfield.

I knew there was no way I'd get the same treatment at Mountsfield. Oh, how wrong I was.

As I walked the halls to the tune of the intramural basketball game down the hall, I was approached by Linda Moffatt, the principle. She asked if I was Andrew Schmidt, to which I happily agreed (do I look like a photographer or something? maybe it was the gators I was wearing on my feet). Instead of lending me the keys, she gave me two personal janitors to escort me throughout the school, opening whichever classroom I wished whenever I needed it. What a trip.

Special thanks goes to principles Don MacPhereson, Linda Moffatt for their patience with me and for their work among their staff on my behalf. Additionally, custiodian staff members Dave, Bob, and Jenna that were so gracious in lending me their time and stories of their own.

Talking about what I saw once in the schools is worth 2,000 words in itself. I'll get to that some day.

ps. Do I look like a janitor in the above picture? That's my favorite photography shirt. Maybe it's because you can't see that it's tucked in. And shit, if being a janitor means having keys to every room in the house, it doesn't sound so bad after all.

guero

Back in London, once again, for the weekend.

Came down pretty much to hang with family and get some work done for school, because lord knows I can't concentrate in my own home. The unfortunate thing is I forgot my video camera, which is too bad because we're both sitting on a mountain of mini and extended things worth mentioning (I have a lot of really short ones this time around).

Holler at me Londoners if you read this. I'll be around tonight.

americanos with cinnamon

Well friends, it appears we're back at it.

There's been serious talks about recording the next Hue record. We've applied for the government grants, talked to past produced Mikey T, scoped out studio locations, and have begun honing in on certain songs and possible other considerations for the album. The more interesting part of all this is we're possibly recording in March. That's not very far away.

The process of writing and recording is a very fun and tricky thing. Personally, when I sit down at the drum kit to write parts for new songs, I do it somewhat vaguely. Like in painting, I'll rough in an idea to expand from. Timing signatures, fills, splits, cymbal work, absences, different sticks and percussion etc etc. From there, after about a dozen or so run-through's, I should have a pretty good idea of what I'm doing. However, when writing an album, everything counts and you have to be prepared to play those same parts for the rest of your life. I've never actually regretted a single drum line that I've written, but some are just more strenuous than others (like Until Then, which is around 7 minutes of the same thing).

However, it's all quite exciting. I love the process. I pride myself on being fairly expedient in the studio; we're aiming to record all of my drum parts for this record in one day, maybe two. Like the recording process of the last record, I'll have an americano in my hands at all times. I can't drink one of those things without feeling the tight hug of studio headphones wrapped around my ears, and the smell of sound-proofed foam covering the walls.

The writing process has also been quite refreshing this time around. Seeing as we've added two new members to the lineup, the variety of sounds, instruments, and harmonies has opened up gigantic sonic possibilites. The rehearsals have been sounding as good as listening to a record. Writing with five people is a lot of fun, especially since it's less of a stage circus because there is little instrument change-overs when playing live.

Another thing to take into account when writing a record is the songs themselves: not so much the songs on the record, but the ones that don't make it. It's honestly like losing old friends. We have songs we've been playing for literally years that I know won't make this record. Dozens of them. Because as you start to form a record you realize thematically and sonically what it is and where it's going. Some, actually, most songs don't make records because they are either too "this" or too "that". Some rock a little too much, sound like somebody else, or are so over the deep end that it doesn't even sound like it was written by the same band.

Although we'll be cutting songs like chops of meat, the finished product is going to be something very special I think. I want to say it's very different from the last record, which it is, but not too far away. Don't expect to hear any rap or reggae on this record. I will say that we're far less timid this time around, timid in terms of exploration and limitations of the songs themselves. There's grooves, holes, length and chances taken in almost every track. Given that we've had a huge amount of time around to write and demo songs, the work has been allowed to group and expand organically amongst the group, unlike the last record, where the small amount of time to write and record reacted to some material like a miniature dinosaur that expanded in warm water.

Either way, I'll continue to post about any advancements over the next couple months, amongst other things.

assault and pepper

Hey Friends!

I've not been a slack as of late. It was just old Ted Rogers holding our internet signal ransom for several days. Yet, a lot has happened.

I might as well start with last Thursdays show at Call The Office in London.

The night itself was an overall success. Seeing as I don't have Facebook, I never really know who's "attending" and who's not. I'd heard word that many old friends were confirmed guests, and nearly all of them showed! This made for some, well, I'll just say interesting events. Even great friend, past-bandmate, and wonderful human in general Nathan Albion made his appearance. Dan and I used to be in a band with Nathan called Gerald Pessy way back in the day. We also almost won our highschool Battle Of The Bands together after only two weeks of playing our instruments.


The show also went quite well. There's a young and shakey kid doing sound at CTO nowadays, which caused us a bit of sweat. Aparently the show sounded good from the croud. People seemed to respond well to the new material. Even the new-new material (a near remix of an untitled song that had been played at several shows) went off without a hitch. That new version is pretty awesome, and a lot more fun to play, even though I stole the beat from a Josh Ritter album.
I have to mention, the Call The Office stage has heat like no other club. I'd rather play in the desert than feel the lights of that place. I always bring a change of clothes to those shows because, combining the heat with the vigor I play with, always makes for a sweaty performance.

The next morning, after some delicious King's Inn Diner lunch, we made for the road. I drove. Upon arrival, we all split for a Triple S before the show. I got Chippy's, located directly across the steet. If you've never eaten there, and have an appreciation for fish & chips, boot your ass over there as soon as possible. We then showed up for sound check.


I'll be honest, and I've said before, Lee's Palace scares the shit out of me. It's a massive venue that has seen some of the best bands on the planet play since before you were born. The walls of the place just ache with history. Not only is it one of the most notorious, but the best sounding clubs in the city. So naturally it was a bit nerve-racking packing our gear in it's hollow state. All of the bands were cool, except the bill didn't have any flow whatsoever.

The order went as follows: college funk, hue, hip-hop, then metal. Goofy.

We were rushed going on, seeing as the previous band ran late. I was literally still tightening my stands while Darcy tinkered the opening chords of our set. A great amount of people showed up, except we didn't make any money because they were all on the guestlist haha. S'all good. We payed for our gas money the night before.

Afterward we all hit Dance Cave and danced uncontrollably. Kevin Black and I jammed so fucking hard to Arcade Fire. I'm pretty sure we created our own dance circle in the middle of the floor just because nobody wanted to be hit by our flailing limbs. Atta boy. Another story that deserves some attention is actually quite funny. Minutes before we left after packing our gear, a fight broke out only a few feet from us. The cops showed up, and one of the guys who sucker-punched another dude approached us and told him to take his wallet. We said no, so he kicked it under our van. All I did for the next ten minutes was stare at the guy while he was being questioned by the cops. But why would he do this? It's simple really. The oldest in the book.

See, when a cop questions you for something illegal, all you really need to do is chuck your wallet away. That way, upon questioning, you can make up any address you feel like and the cops would be none the wiser. You'll never recieve a ticket and never pay a fine.

The punchers girlfriend noticed me eyeing him up and pleeded with me to not rat him out. To be honest, the only reason I didn't was because Darcy was driving and didn't want to get involved. Lucky him, because I was drunk and wanted justice. The most funny part is, she was pleeding with me as I was sitting in a van full of people, and after I continued to shove everything she said to the ground, my only reply to her was:

"Na na na na na na na na, BATMAN!!!"

We all had a good laugh at her expense right then and there.

I went home after that and slept. Then! Just when life couldn't get any better! I awoke to tickets to that afternoons Jays game against the Kansas City Royals! My good friend Andrew Siu and his lovely girlfriend treated Blair and I to some free tickets behind the plate. That was fucking awesome. I don't really have any good stories about that, except that I would shout any obscenity Andrew asked me to, including telling Vernon Wells to "EARN THAT 20 MILL!!!" when he was up to bat. He then struck out.

A week later, Darcy and I attended the annual Alzheimer's Tournament at The Highland in London. This was our fourth year playing, and easily the most hilarious yet. I won't go into too much detail, because I have a tonne of pics and video from that day, which I will post hopefully as soon as my sister sends them. You're in for some hilarity.

That same night a whole whack of us went out to Raygun and party-hardy'd, until we eventually ended up at Caitlin's place, free-styling and putting back drinks until the sun came up. Those freestyle tapes exist somewhere and I'll see what I can do to retrieve them.


Nowadays I've just been working, doing laundry, rehearsing, recording, painting, photographing, working on a website, Luminato, watching playoff basketball with K, walking, organizing, and enjoying what has been one of the best summers in years. My life seems to be one hectic, fantastic moment after another.

bonjournal

First off, the Alex P. Keaton is fucking closing? What the hell is this about? For those of you that read this and know what's going on, please inform me. That was one of the last good bars in London, not to mention places to eat. I'll miss the Duck Quesadillas with Cranberry Sauce and Barnyard Sliders with Deep-Fried Pickles the most. Having performed there on many occasions and seen many great performances from the audience, I can truly say I'll miss this venue (even though I've always hated the non-existent stage, cramped quarters, and truly terrible acoustics). Farewell Alex. P Keaton. You satisfied my dark beer love for so many nights. 

 

Last night, after an epic six-man/woman jam at the Glasgow house, a bunch of us went out for beers. Dan was telling me that there was something happening in the upstairs section of the bar, so we investigated. This happening turned out to be a party for the deaf. We payed for the cover, received a complimentary chocolate bar (for some reason), and grabbed a drink. To be honest, this turned out to be more interesting than our friends who were waiting for us downstairs. The music was extra-loud and full of bass, which we could only assume was to serve the purpose of vibrations. The image itself was quite incredible: a sea of people from all backgrounds and ages, enjoying a drink, conversing all through the use of hands and body language. That's the kind of stuff that makes me tick, in the good way. I'm actually somewhat glad the demographic was hearing impaired, as I was chewing Dans ear off about how we are all singular beings, or some drunken bullshit like that.

My brother is currently taking a sushi-making course in London. This is oh so funny to me. He is literally going to master the art of sushi making and move to Michigan for the summer to make sushi at a seafood restaurant. To me, this is going to be another one of those things that I'll look back on and say, "Remember when Bike was a sushi chef in the States for that whole summer?" This is just as random as the fact that he lived in Japan, was valedictorian twice, played football at the Skydome, starred in a school play, and almost died after passing out in a snow bank. Just pile that story on top of the rest. Oh Bike, so hilarious. 

Speaking of which, we were eating sushi at Echo this afternoon and decided to share a few stories with Blair about our drive together through the Australian desert. One of the most memorable stories was the time we decided to take a shortcut that would end up saving us nearly 4 hours. This shortcut turned out to be an incredibly dangerous sand road that would take us within reaching distance of "nowhere". It was so bumpy and our van was so shitty that we honestly feared for our lives. I compared the road to something you would see in Mario Kart, and that it wouldn't be surprising to see a red turtle shell flying at you. Once the drive was over everything within the van had a layer of red dirt, including us. We washed our faces later that night and the sinks turned red. 

I scored some more free books from Glen yesterday, including:

LIFE World Library - China

The World of the American Indian

The Adventures of Robin Hood - Charles Vivian 

The Moon is Down - Steinbeck 

Civilisation - Kenneth Clark

Style and Structure

By Any Means Necessary - Malcolm X

Wilderness Canada

Canada - The Founders and the Guardians

The Taming of the Shrew

Knots - R.D. Laing

Son of the Morning Star - Evan S. Connell

Arms and the Man - Bernard Shaw

Astronomy Today

Most of these books have a lot of pictures, which I'll usually look at in the studio when I'm either taking a break from painting or letting something dry, except for that one Malcolm X book, which was a weird call on my part, but it was free!

Dan turned me onto a program called Mojo, which is awesome. Basically, you can seamlessly share songs with people through your iTunes account. You just add whomever you'd like to share with, sign on, and bam! You're free to take any of their music from the comfort of your home. However, you cannot share songs purchased from iTunes, but that only makes sense. I wouldn't want anyone to have tracks that I paid for, not that I buy much music online anyway, because I think that is silly when you can have tangible copies for just as much. I'd love to share my music with anyone who contacts me, so just drop a line. Here's a link for the download:   http://deusty.com/software/mac.php  

be well. 

hue and lights at cto

Last night was an outstanding show.
After a grueling amount of rehearsals over the past weeks, we pulled together a well-received set that was over 3/4's new material. There were a lot of highlights to the show as well: I got to play the drums sideways, Darcy and I both had solo's during a jazz intermission (except he got to play the kazoo), we had a song that was just drums and whistling, and most importantly, nothing broke or disconnected. It was just one of those shows where everything went smooth from start to finish, except when our sound guy Eric had us set up onstage in front of everybody, only to make us wait while he took a piss. But once we hit the stage, it was all set to go.

Seeing as we were playing with the pop-wonder LIGHTS (myspace.com/lights) we knew that people would show up, but we weren't ready for how many.
I got a text from my sister early on in the night asking when to show up for the show, I replied "come now, there's 150 people waiting to get in", and that was before the doors even opened. Once they did, the place just flooded and we were to hit the stage in about an hour. By the time we'd finished our set, the Sold Out sign was placed on the front door. It got really, really tight. Once we hit that last note (or punch), it was time to tear down everything at record pace. Yet the only problem was, we couldn't get off the stage. People had surrounded every corner of Call the Office and we had no way of getting our gear off the stage. So we (meaning Hue and Everlea) formed a gear-train that involved lifting huge amps above our heads in an effort to get everything off the stage so that the next set of gents could get playing.
Another thing I wasn't expecting from this show was the general demographic. I forgot who we were playing with and what her fan base really is: screaming young girls. I am not, in any way, saying this is a bad thing. In fact, it was one of the most hilarious and enjoyable crowds we've ever played to. Playing to a hoard of girls kicked ass. After every song they'd cheer, and after everything you'd say they'd scream. I joked later about screaming "Does your mother like it dirty?"..."YAAAHBLLAAHHAAA!" I even threw away broken sticks at the end of the show, and they ate that shit up. I guess if you're too young to drink, you have to have your vices, which leads me to my next point: these kids spend!
Not only did they like the music, but they wanted to have it. Apparently we sold over twenty albums last night and filled up over two sheets of paper for a mailing list. We also signed a lot of CD's, which made me feel like a rockstar dickhole, but it was all in fun and it was nice to meet a lot of cool people.
Needless to say, the night was a huge success and I only want to tour with popular female musicians, forever.