I need to preface this bit of digital self-indulgence with an apology to Gordie Johnson, founder and core of the act Big Sugar. I went to his concert last night, and despite enjoying myself thoroughly, had to beg off early and head home before the conclusion of his first set. It was rude of me, and my only explanation was that I managed to remain standing on the dance floor throughout the entire set of Lex Justice, the opening act. Throughout the 90 or so minutes of Gordie's performance, I was leaning heavily against a ledge near one of the bars on the side of the dance floor in considerable discomfort. I was dizzy, perspiring heavily, and the lumbar section of my spine was on fire. Three times I tried to move my neck, and three times I blacked out and nearly collapsed. All three times, my knees went out from under me and I lost consciousness, only to recover it moments later. The first and second times, I managed to convince myself that I was under control, just staggering and sagging against the wall. When I found myself stumbling and clutching other people's clothing on the third blackout, I realized that it would not end happily.
And thus I left, defeated and ashamed of the fact that I has mistreated one of my heroes - a man who, despite being clean and sober for almost two years, hasn't turned into the milquesop, god-bothering asshole that Van Morrison became after a similar life-change. Please forgive me Gordie. I still remember that time in 1993 when I deserted my post at work to cycle to the People's Pub on Whyte Avenue to watch part of a couple sets and got you to autograph my "Five Hundred Pounds" CD. I still hold and cherish that CD with your red-inked inscription. I've driven to Calgary for gigs, attended workshops at the Edmonton Folk Fest, hung out at the stage during an Edmonton "First Night" festival, and bought stacks of CDs and merchandise. Over twenty-four years of watching gigs and listening to albums, and my bum vertebrae knocked me for six in a little hometown venue. I behaved rudely and disrespectfully. Gordie, if you read this - for what it's worth - I'm sorry. I truly did not intend to harm yourself or your reputation in any way.
On top of my embarrassment at leaving the gig was my appreciation for the music on offer. Lex Justice and his international ensemble gathered around the core of what was once Econoline Crush
had some very danceable reggae/calypso/blues/rock grooves. His cover of Eddy Grant's anti-apartheid anthem "Gimme Hope Joanna" made even the most jaded cynic bounce around the dance floor. The set concluded with a tribute to the lead singer's father, felled by cancer this past January - a subdued reggae interpretation of the Eagles' "Hotel California."
Gordie trumped this excellent performance by demonstrating virtuosity in blues guitar coupled with studio sound replication on stage. He dual-neck guitars allowed him to play lead and rhythm, twelve- and six-string, distorted and chorus instruments simultaneously.
In addition to playing some of his most powerful, driving, high-tempo 12-bar major key numbers, he surprised certain members of the audience (okay, me) by playing Pink Floyd riffs in the middle of his solos. Some noodled melodic asides raised eyebrows, but there were some very knowing and winking looks around the venue when Gordie not only flared into Floyd's "Fearless" in the middle of "She Left Ashes," but did it again before the final chorus.
This was a demonstration of a musician at a new zenith of his artistic powers, reinventing the most emotionally charged and energetic works of his catalogue into a soaring solo performance with a little help from some accompanying bass and percussion.
And my spine was too weak to allow me to stay the full course. More the loss for me.
Strangely enough, despite the ridiculous amount of Big Sugar songs that appear in my shower playlists, this entry contains none. Maybe the shuffle-demons knew that I would embarrass myself going to a Big Sugar show later that day. Here's what the stochastic view of the future has to say.
Shower Songs
- Vindaloo, by Fat Les
- Green River, by Creedence Clearwater Revival
- We Need a Filthy War, by DJ Earworm
- And We Danced, by The Hooters
- You Don't Love Me, by Matthew Sweet
- Tsunami, by Prozzäk
I just popped a pack of painkillers, and I should be dead to the world for a while. My eyelids are stinging me now because they long to be closed, and I can't stand on my feet regardless of intent of determination. I'm slithering into bed.
Good night, England and the colonies.
Cheers,
—mARKUS
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