[benny from Barf, Pigeons! lays it down.]

This past weekend, my band Hush Money released our new album, Hush Money Goes Infinity. To celebrate this fact, we played three shows across southern Ontario, in Toronto (our current home), Peterborough (our former home) and Ottawa (my surrogate home).

I don’t go on roadtrips often enough. But one of my new year’s resolutionz is to play more shows out of town, whether it be with Hush Money, Magical Powers, or garbageface. And this past weekend was a chilling tale of things to come. Ready? Okay then.

[matt from Barf, Pigeons! gets swirrrrrllyyyy.]

There aren’t many Toronto bands I love more than Barf, Pigeons!. Though we played with some amazingly stellar bands that night (including the indubitable Please Stand By We’re Having Technical Difficulties and the irreversibly fun B’MO Crazy), I was unable to photograph them because of my duties at the door and getting amped for our own performance. Barf, Pigeons! are the love-children of Primus, Politics, Frank Zappa and Chocolate Cake. They got the grooves to start a righteous mosh. Be there.

The show, the crowd, the love that night was amazing. I loved every minute of it. If every night could be that much fun…..

[beside ray's place.]

The next morning (early afternoon) my musical partner Ray and I scrape ourselves together and load up the Golden Snitch (the name of the tour car) for a short ride to Peterborough, AKA Boomtown. Just outside Ray’s place, I notice some killer (literally, killer!) icicles, and think: Isn’t “icicle” kind of a weak name for something that could impale you like a shish kebab? Seriously. I think after they reach a certain size, they should be called “icikills.”

[another roadside attraction.]

Isn’t it funny how the mention of urine makes you have to urinate about ten times more than you did just the moment before? Well, on our way to Boomtown, I mention something about urine, and Ray has to pull over. We stop at “GoGo Pizza & Subs”, potentially the bleakest highway pizza joint I have ever seen from a distance. Truthfully, I was too scared to even approach it, for fear of getting sucked into a dead end job.

[daiquiri contemplates their existence at the spill.]

We arrive in Peterborough and head straight to The Spill, where we meet up with the guys in Daiquiri and Please Stand By. Daiquiri are a band that has been a huge influence on me, both in terms of musical exploration and in pushing the boundaries of performance. They are also grizzled music veterans who have been around the block before most of us were allowed to go on the block at all, and they have a no-bullshit attitude that I truly appreciate.

Just before going on stage, Mike and I are having a good laugh at the circumstances of the night, and the relatively poor turnout. I say to Mike, “you guys are grizzled veterans, eh?” and he replies to me through am ironically desperate laugh, “Karol, I don’t feel a thing.” Ha. I love these guys. And of course, they give us a show worthy of ten times as many audience members.

[the spill closed.]

Did i mention that we blew the speakers at The Spill? And that the owner Dave wasn’t even pissed about it, and even invited us back? Wow. He is a good man. A true rarity in the rock music world. Even after we brought out a thin crowd and blew his speakers, he’s still willing to have us back. Pretty great.

[turnip and tessa.]

Through a lovely twist of circumstance, we end up staying at our dear friend Tessa’s place, just around the corner from the venue. She gives us comfortable sleeping arrangements, introduces us to her lovely cat, and gives us delicious coffee in the morning.

Just before we go to sleep, though, there’s a strange knock at the door, and a woman who looks like she just strolled off a catwalk is asking if this is the house where she can find “Tony,” and some other names I can’t remember. She seems shocked that none of them live here. Weird.

[mandatory suicide.]

Before getting back in the car to get some food, I put the camera on the roof of the car and we do the obligatory “hey, we’re travelling as a band” group shot.

[flavor flav gone white firefighter.]

Before leaving Peterborough, we get a few slices of Night Kitchen pizza, cause that’s what you gotta do when yr in that town. They always have vegan slices on hand. Do it. Eat there.

[safety dance.]

Once again, the urination rule proves itself to be true, and as we drive down the dangerous highway seven, I mention to Ray that I have to pee. Within minutes, he is about to burst, and we have to pull over before either of us have an “accident.”

[jacquie blue, howling.]

I love Ottawa, because it is full of good people. One of them is Jacquie Blue, who sings in the glorious Ladymilk. In addition to Jacquie, there is Fran and Pete, two of my favourite people in the world, who still to this day treat me unnaturally well… For example, when Ray and I arrive in Ottawa at Pete and Fran’s place, Fran has already put together a delicious meal, and Pete is off somewhere doing the legwork to make sure we have a good sound system for the night. AND, they let us stay at their place, and once again feed us. Wow.

[mike taking a breather.]

After Ladymilk rocks the par-tay, Hush Money gives it the old college try, and then Daiquiri takes the stage. They tell the audience that they are breaking their 2-year old BAN on playing any shows in Ottawa, because they have gotten so little love from this town. So it truly is a special evening: The Milk plays their first show in 8 months, The Money releases their new album, and The Daq lifts the ban. This calls for a drink.

[an awkward pause.]

Seeing Daiquiri is always worth the price of admission. In addition to their energy and the almost telepathic way they communicate, you are sure to hear some brilliantly dry, scathing comedy from Mike at some point in the night. The jokes don’t do well transcribed, but if you find yrself on the butt end of one of these jokes, you will feel it. Hard. In a good way. In yr bowels. Ouch.

[shreddingz.]

They play with a guitar, some sampler type gear, and two vocals. And somehow, it just sounds like mayhem. HARD KARAOKE.

[yayas.]

For the first time ever (and I’ve seen them play at least a dozen times now), I see Leigh do a guitar solo. And it is hilarious in it’s non-solo-ness. They literally cut the backing music so that Leigh can take the crowd on a glorious guitar journey. He cops all the right poses and hits all the wrong notes. On Purpose.

[keeping it kneel.]

I don’t know much, but I know that I wish I could play guitar like this. On my knees, with my hair hanging in front of my face, and probably thinking “man, I am killing this shit right now. I’m on the edge of puking rock from every orifice.” Or something like that. Roughly.

[gobling.]

I think Mike went through three costume changes in total for this show. He is a snappy dresser, and all of his outfits seemed very well coordinated. Or maybe it was the booze.

[behind the mask.]

Oh shit, did I forget to mention that Leigh got on the drum kit for a song? Yup. If you’ve heard any of the records, you will know that in addition to programming some awesome shit and playing mad guitar, Leigh also somehow knows how to own a drum kit. And for a few minutes, he did it live. Worth the price of admission, right there.

[the last time i will ever caption.]

And almost as quickly as The Daq takes the stage, they are replaced by their alter-ego, Two Fans, a band that plays only covers of power ballads. They go through classics such as “Night Fever” and “Under Pressure,” and by the time the sound curfew rolls around, they’ve got the whole crowd too amped to leave without an encore. They deliver. Ladies swoon. Men swoon in secret. The perfect end to a perfect night.

And that’s that. A blast of a weekend and a trio of parties that I’m going to remember for a long time coming. And come this summer, my trip will hopefully make this one seem like a brief warm-up.