I was down in Toronto last week for a few days to take care of some things, and lo and behold, I discovered it was Canadian Music Week in the city. Though I am a music lover and have lived in Toronto for over fifteen years, I have never before attended this event. Throughout the week, about 700 bands are scheduled to play at various venues throughout the city, and being the adventuresome soul that I am, I decided to check a few of the acts. I would have really enjoyed catching some of the songwriting forums held at the Fairmont Royal York, but I was too late for that. Thursday night, I rode my bicycle downtown and hit two venues: The Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street, and afterwards the famous El Macambo on Spadina. The bands were generally forgettable, but I found the spectators very interesting. As well, I fulfilled a longtime desire to see the inside of the legendary El Macambo. The older I get, the less inclined I am to do something out of the norm, and this was my one feeble attempt to revive my severely atrophied sense of spontaneity. Riding my bike at night, wearing dark clothing was a nice touch. I’m sure that there will be a lot of good bands featured during the week, but I don’t think Thursday night at the Horseshoe was the place to be. I doesn’t matter because, in fifteen years, when I’m sipping a cocktail of Metamucil and orange juice, I will wildly exaggerate the sense of adventure generated by this crazy foray into the lurid underground of Toronto’s vibrant club scene. Hey dude, THE STONES played the El Macambo, once, a long time ago. And I was there…well not exactly when the Stones were there, but there nonetheless. By the time I made it to the El Macambo, a little altered and having already seen three bands at the Horseshoe, I could have seen a punk Mariachi band and I wouldn’t have known. This music watching is exhausting. Next year, I will approach this event with a little more discrimination, and perhaps even see a band I choose to see.
Back up in Katrine for the weekend, I decided to continue my exploration of the live music scene by attending the world famous Country Jamboree at the Katrine community centre on Saturday afternoon. This is my second big event at this community centre, and I wasn’t disappointed. Loosely translated, they served beer, and it was cheap. Country music is not my favorite genre, but I embrace all music with open arms. O.K., punk, rap, Indonesian gamelon music, opera, and a few others, not so much. When I arrived, the parking lot was packed, and when I got inside, I found out why. There was dancing, there was booze, there were complimentary sandwiches and cupcakes; clearly, this was a jamboree. And I have to say, as colorful as was the crowd in Toronto, they paled by comparison to this group. These folks knew how to party … probably due to the fact that they spend a good part of their winters blowing, plowing, and generally dealing with copious amounts of snow. They were young and old, hippy longhairs and redneck codgers. One old timer, as she passed me bouncing off the dance floor like a pogo stick, winked at me and earnestly confided “we all go a little crazy on Saturdays!” Work it grandma. The last band (there were four altogether) was really quite good. I was a little surprised, although I have always maintained that some of the best live music happens when I least expect it.
Is there any good reason why they don’t make daylight savings time occur to coincide with the Spring equinox? It just seems logical. I’m getting Spring fever big time, which might explain why I attended the Katrine jamboree, and we have had a substantial thaw that removed most of the snow from our property. The ice huts have been removed from the lake, the weather has been mild and, as of this weekend, the days will seem longer. Though it has been, relatively speaking, a mild winter, I’m ready for it to be over. At present our property is a big mud pit, because topsoil was brought in just before it snowed. We put down grass seed before the snow, but won’t know for a month or two if it will begin to grow. Landscaping remains the one big project we must complete before this ongoing work in progress is completed … that and the 438 glitches that need to be addressed. Another day.
Perhaps I can play at the next gig at the community center. I could be adored by a bevy of nonagenarian groupies. I’d love to see their expressions when I play my country classic “How Come it Hurts When I Pee?!” Seriously, I think a lot of the people up here could identify with that song.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2010 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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