Goodbye, Rheostatics.

Lately, it seems like i've been writing very long reviews or tributes to artistic heroes of mine. I will try not to make this one incredibly long, but somehow, i doubt it will be kept short.

Last Friday, Canadian music legends Rheostatics played their last show. I will provide a concise synopsis of what this band was all about. First - you may not have heard of them, so you need to know that they've toured the country dozens and dozens of times, put out around 13 or so records, and had been in existence for near to 25 years. They've been long standing favorites of the Canadian university and college scene, have been lauded by peers such as the Barenaked Ladies, The Tragically Hip, and so on. The band originally hailed from Etobicoke, and was formed by a few of the members while still in high school. Their music was a blend of punk, prog rock, down home country, and probably a dozen other things. 3 vocalists/songwriters in the band, sometimes 4, each with a pretty distinct style and flair. They only ever had a small handful of songs that "charted". They tended to sing about things they knew about, where they grew up, about the Country they lived in, and about the assortment of odd characters they'd either encountered or fabricated. Their audiences loved them. They had a very dedicated hard core fan base. As guitarist Dave Bidini mentioned at the end of the show at Massey hall last Friday night, he figured that the band probably knew most of the people seated in the large theater, that we'd all probably met them at one time or another. I think he was right.

Bidini also spoke of the influence that his band had upon people in the theater. He figured that some of us probably had grown up listening to Rheostatics songs in their mom's basements, that some of us had probably made friends through the band, and that some of us had probably started our own bands after having seen them.

That last part got me thinking. I don't think that i ever started a band because of the Rheos, but i would definitely say that they were a pretty big role model for myself, and a lot of other people in music, whether they admit it or not.

The first time i saw the Rheostatics was way back in the early 1990s. They were playing at Peter Clark Hall at the U of G. This was part of their "Whale Music" tour, and i had only heard the album a couple of weeks before the show. I imagine Michael Barclay probably lent me the disc, and i remember putting it on and feeling this weird spooky connection as every song played on. The album opens with a beautiful swirling synthesis of strings, pedal steel, and otherworldly guitar - and then kicks into a root-fifth style country tune. I recall sitting there thinking "well, this is actually INTERESTING!" - and i listened to the words of the song, being sung in this strange but beautiful voice. The song proceeds, and the words get darker, and sadder...and scarier - and then the whole thing just kicks into this powerful, startling crescendo. I honestly remember this moment. The next song came on. And then the next. The voices singing changed, the themes changed, but there was still a unity to the whole thing.

So - as i said above - i first saw them, shortly after hearing the album. Peter Clark Hall. King Cobb Steelie opened for them (and that's a whole other story of connections and intrigue), and they were very good. I remember thinking, "these guys are gonna have to be pretty good to top the opening act". They came out and they looked...weird. The one tall guitar player looked really uncomfortable to be there, and was dressed in a foppishly funny kind of way. He also had one of those crazy Steinberger guitars that only reggae or jazz fusion dudes played. The other guitarist looked like a hockey goon, but with the same haircut as me (shaved bald). The bass player was a normal looking Joe, just kind of looked like some guy i might have seen at the grocery market. The drummer looked nutty, and reminded me of Buddha crossed with Jim Ignatowsky from "Taxi" - he was wearing some crazy tshirt, and was disheveled and hairy. My first thought was not meant to be judgmental, but just honest, and it was this: "these guys don't look like a band". But then i remembered the music that i'd been listening to earlier that day...and decided to change my idea of what a band should look like. See, this was around the time of the stupid grunge thing...and i hated it all...but i was used to the idea that bands had a certain "look", a unified thing - and a lot of the grunge acts (and those around town imitating them) dressed the same way.

The show started and that was that. It was one of the best things i've ever seen, to this day. These guys were up there and they were fearless. The tall uncomfortable dude - i assumed he wasn't going to be that good because of his awkward manner - and the guy blew the audience out of the water with his sheer talent, both with voice and guitar. As a bassist, i sat there mesmerized by the bass player's unconventional playing, and great backup vocals. The other guitarist was so animated, bopping around the stage, doing great rhythm work, and generally being larger then life...sort of like a Muppet version of a rock and roll star. And the drummer was phenomenal, and very full of life and humor. The band's banter with the audience was great - they were chatting with people, asking for suggestions, and just connecting. Hell, i remember standing at the front of the stage,and the punk guitar player saw me staring at his hands (clearly trying to memorize the chords), and he stuck out his foot and put a Converse All Star square on my forehead, giving it a push. It was at that moment i realized, "this guy on stage is actually NOTICING what people in the audience are doing!!". And that - that was it.

All the other bands that i'd been going to see for years had the fourth wall up between them and their audience. Sure, they were great - but there was a distinction between US and THEM. So here i was, at the Rheostatics show, during the ****ing grunge era when bands were too busy trying to look tough or troubled - and the guitarist puts his foot on my forehead. Really, it was a gesture that you just couldn't ignore.

They were fearless onstage. They were taking songs i'd been listening to for a couple weeks, and just turning them inside out. Things were going in and out of various time signatures, melodies were flying around like dive bombing planes, it was truly different from anything i'd checked out before. They were "prog" without being too "prog", if you get me.

After the show, they were out in the hallway. The tall shy guy was still shy, but the drummer and foot-putting guitarist were out talking to all the fans. I went up to them and chatted briefly. I told the drummer that they were great, and that they were a lot of fun - he asked me what had been fun about it, genuinely interested, and i said, "Well, you joke around a lot up there with each other, and talk to the audience - and the music is great". He nodded and gave me this sort of nod, that wasn't unlike a Mason's secret handshake - and i knew i was in some sort of oddball club. I then talked to the guitarist, and said, "hey, umm, i'm the guy who's head you stuck your foot on" and he apologized, saying "yeah, sorry about that - but did you like the show?". I said i did, and told him i'd go see them next time.

I did.

A lot.

I was playing in a band when i attended that show. And i hate to say it, and no disrespect to the guys in that band with me, but after that, i kind of realized just how much our band sucked. Totally. We were not fun onstage. Our songs were ok, and we were ok , but we were just that - "ok". After seeing both King Cobb Steelie and the Rheostatics, i realized that i wanted to be in a band that people thought was good, exciting, and fun. Now, i think the guys from that band i was in, i think we all kind of knew we sucked. But we did it anyway, because it was fun to jam in the basement, and play the odd show to a mostly empty room. I think all those guys were/are talented - but we just weren't good together back then.

I ended up joining another band. This band was more in line with what i wanted to be doing. The music was ok - but the attitude of the band was that of fun, urgency, and connecting with people. We weren't staring at our shoes - we were looking out at the audience, trying to see who was paying attention, and what they were paying attention to. For me, this was something that i took from the Rheos show that i attended. I also took one of their songs as the first song (cover tune) that i ever sang onstage. I recall being really nervous at Jimmy Jazz, and getting up and doing that song (which was "horses") - but i did it anyway. Later i decided to try to write a song, which, lyricswise, admittedly was a pretty big ripoff of the Rheostatic way of writing (it was about cross border shopping and had a bunch of random Canadianisms thrown in, without their flare for narrative, originality and melody). But really, who cares? Because it was SOMETHING. I was trying and doing something. Everyone rips off something when they begin doing any kind of art. Everyone. That's how it works. For that song, i'm glad that i unconsciously chose the Rheos as my influence, rather than say Ugly Kid Joe or possibly the Screaming Trees...anyway... Our band had multiple singers, kind of like the Rheostatics did, and we all wrote different songs. As time progressed, we developed our own distinct sound and attitude. Made a couple of records, toured a fair bit, played a lot of shows, and then broke up 7 years later. In large part, i blame the Rheostatics for all of that - in a good way.

(wow i said i'd keep this short, but i clearly lied).

Years go by fast. Over the past 14 or so years, i've seen the Rheostatics a lot, here and there. They've fallen in and out of favor on my stereo, but they've always been one of those bands that i come back to. I haven't loved every single thing they've put out, but they have always done things that they wanted to do, their way. They've remained brave. I remember i didn't see them for about 5 years, and went back and checked them out at the Horseshoe, for a Fall Nationals show, and they blew me away again. I don't go to as many concerts as i used to, mostly because my life as a musician keeps me in bars more often than i care to be - and so i'm less inclined to go to shows than when i was younger. But, any time i've gone to check these guys out in recent years, they've managed to surprise me and keep me on my musical toes. Some of my bands have opened for them here and there, and they were always really nice to us. I remember opening for them a couple nights in a row. One night, their bass player was quite tipsy on stage and was not his usual reserved self - he was very silly and extremely funny (more so than normal). He was dancing around, saying crazy things and just plain hilarious. This was the result of the words "shot of tequila appearing on the "spin the wheel, make the set list" wheel. He approached me and my band the next day as we were setting up, looking slightly sheepish, and said, "after my performance last night, i've decided to be your lead singer" - which made us all laugh. I remember at those shows, our band car got towed, and the guitar player not only drove us to the impound lot, but also paid for our towing fee out of the night's take from the door. One of the highlights of my musical life was when the guitarist - the same guy who had put his shoe on my forehead years earlier - asked me join them for a song on stage. They made their openers feel welcome, and treated them well. As i've said before, they made us feel like we were part of some secret club.

So this has been my connection with these guys, for the past decade and a half.

Last Friday, they took the stage at Massey hall. They played for 3 1/2 hours. They were amazing. I didn't see Dave put his shoe on anyone's head, but he certainly joked with the audience, trading one liners with guys up on the balcony. Tim, the usually stand-still bass player, danced around the stage, joked, and said hello to his kids from the stage, and looked like he was having a ball. Martin is still the tall shy weird guy, but not that night - he had a case of laryngitis, but he didn't let that stop him from having a great time, and performing spectacularly. Michael-Phillip has been both their producer, and more recently, their drummer for years - and he's amazing behind the kit. They had a few guests come out - a nice moment included having both former drummers Don Kerr & Dave Clark on stage with them. The show was a tour de force of their "lucky 13" records. Several encores. Snow fell down from the rafters - like it had years earlier at the Bathurst Street Theater. They came down from the stage, armed with one acoustic guitar, and the show finished with the entire audience - everyone - supporting Martin's weakened voice by singing the words to "Record Body Count". Together. It was truly amazing - hundreds of people from all walks of life in this room, singing the words to a song most folks have never heard of. Afterwards, we wandered gently out into the streets. I ran into folks that i have not seen for years. We hugged, and talked about the show. A bunch of us reconvened at a local watering hole. We chatted about the show, drank good beer, and played foosball 'til about 2 a.m..

I don't think there's much else to say. It's the end of an era, but perhaps the start of the next.

The above is my story, really, more than it is theirs. It's about how i heard this band, felt a connection, and listened to them for 15 years.

Thank you, Rheostatics.


(Photo courtesy of Tawny Darbyshire)