The Free Press :: The Band

Wrecking Pennsylvania

2009-04-19T01:12:00.000-04:00

As we walked off the stage from our show tonight, one of the event programmers (think of him as a VP or CEO of this rock festival) grabbed my hand, shook it passionately and said:

"You guys are the best band in the festival. Bar none."

"That was...f#&*!ng religious!!!"

What a difference a day can make.

Whether any of that is true or not is beside the point. It was just nice to hear. Last night we were the ugly step sister and today we were Cinderella (Mick has always had a thing about wanting to be Cinderella. Or Prom Queen.) Maybe the pet cemetary shrine (it guarded the washrooms in Senorita Burrita where we played last night) in a mexican restaurant should have tipped us off that things were amiss and evil was in the air. But hey...we're optimists. You have to be in this business. We played our show, regrouped and came back today looking to leave our mark on Pennsylvania. Preferably something in black and blue. But almost immediately after our arrival at the conference hall, several of the event organizers made an effort to find us and apologize for the misunderstanding (but no mention or apology for the creepy shrine). And how can you not understand? These guys were ambitiously mounting the inaugural Launch Festival. 150 bands in 15 venues is a lot to chew on. As Alex said, "You're going to break a few eggs making the omlette." All in all they did a remarkable job. We met some great folks, saw some great bands and did our best to leave our mark in Pennsylvania. Hopefully we didn't wreck it too much. But if we did, it's as much the fault of our host, Jeremy, as it is our own. Despite the fact that he'd lost his voice, he insisted on buying us drinks, taking us to see another one of his favourite acts, having passionate discussions about music and the music industry and stopping anyone of even the vaguest importance to introduce us. Ie.

"Paul! Paul. This is The Free Press. Best band at the festival!"

At which point he'd give away one of the cds he bought from us and repeat the cycle in another two minutes. He's good people.

Some futher Saturday highlights were a few panels, including a demo derby. This is where you put your cd in a box and they draw out cds. Then severl panelists (music biz experts) proceed to dissect them. Usually pretty thoroughly. They drew us second last and we had submitted, "It's Killing Me That It's Killing You." It's always interesting to hear these cats talk because they hear music ALL the time. If your stuff isn't up to spec your experience can go pear-shaped for you very quickly. We've been on the other end of the Simon Cowell stick and it's a painful place to be. Today however, they loved us. They used phrases like 'bright future,' 'these guys are going to sell a lot of records' and 'maybe they can lend me some money after they're rich.' Again, really nice things to hear from a panel of pros.

We also did some wandering around Lancaster. This included a trip to the Central Market. It's like the St. Lawrence Market in Toronto - a lot of stalls selling their goods ranging from meats and cheeses to baked goods and hand made clothing to amish furniture and jewellry. However, the Lancasterians (and perhaps all Pennsylvanians) are a lot more serious about their celery than we are in Canada. There was one stall dedicated ENTIRELY to celery and literature on celery. There was even a $6 (US!) bundle of celery. I didn't look closely but my guess is that it washed your car and made you dinner before dicing itself and submerging itself in a nice soup. Mmm. Soup. There was also a stall that sold vegetables and 'herbs.' I know the question has been posed, "What's in a name?" In this case, I believe the answer is, "a lucrative side business." Note the sign in the bottom right. I'm not sure he imports, but give him a call if you're in a jam.

Amish Stuff Etc.

2009-04-18T03:42:00.001-04:00

Maybe it's the beer talking.

Maybe it's the hour of the day (it's 2:30 am).

Maybe it's that we're 8 1/2 hours from home.

But we're baffled.

It's been a baffling day. We were in our Toronto beds this morning and now we find ourselves in the Olde Amish Inne (I'm not kidding) in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It's off the highway just past the store called Amish Stuff Etc. (Again, not kidding).

We're here playing at the Launch Music Festival and it's proven to be a wild ride so far.

The problem with playing these festivals is that they're run by musicians. Musicians don't tend to be fans of reading, logic or reality. So. When you tell a festival (that's 8 1/2 hours from home) that there are five of you in the band and that you need five microphones, five microphone stands and all the equipment that would typically accompany five guys who make music you're taking your life in you own hands. But you hope that they'll get it. You hope when you type a lengthy letter detailing (in detail) what you need for a show that SOMEONE in the festival will prove to: a) speak english, b) read english, c) live on the planet earth. So. When you arrive in said town (may I remind you that it's 8 1/2 hours from home) and find a stage the size of a postage stamp, with two mics, two stands, a hope and a prayer, you get baffled.

The story only gets longer, angrier and more quizzical from here. So. Let me summarize.

1. Everbody at a festival starts late. That means if you're playing at a Mexican restaurant (which is where we were playing) and you're last, you're going to get screwed after you get baffled.

2. Staff at a festival are akin to Tim Horton's employees. That is to say; simple, challenged and baffled.

3. When point #1 meets point #2, there is bound to be fireworks. In this case, #2 happened to be a youngish fellow who looked like Mitch Hedberg. (Mitch is a dead Minnesota comedian who isn't that funny, at least not since he died. Neither is his Lancaster doppleganger.) He decided to unplug ALL of our gear after 4 songs (and I'll take this opportunity to remind you that we drove 8 1/2 baffling hours to play here). This is what Mickle would call Triple Plus Uncool. That is to say that when five men drive 8 1/2 hours to play a rock and roll festival, they want to PLAY at said festival. If some young Mitch Hedberg who makes a career serving tacos unplugs your shit after four songs, you tend...well, you tend to lose your shit and get loud, angry (baffled, of course) and hostile. So. We got all those things because that's exactly what happened.

Needless to say, that was not cool. It sort of soured the delicious Pennsylvania/Amish Etc. taste in our mouth. But we headed over to a place called the Chameleon Club to see a Winnipeg band called The Duhks. After a few beers and some good, Canadian, music life got better.

This whole diatribe is slightly unfair, though. (But only slightly) Just before we played was an incredibly cool band called Parkwright. Really nice and talented lads from Philadelphia. One of the reasons you make these trips is to make new friends and find reasons to keep going. It's easy to put those guys in both of those categories. But beyond Parkwright, The Duhks and Yuengling Lager Etc, this place needs Billy Bob Thornton to come in and shit on it. And you know what that means. A lot of mashed potatoes. With gravy.

PS - We've just returned from a late sojourn to the Waffle House and just so we don't waste Billy Bob's time, he doesn't need to come here and shit. Some cows or horses have done a thorough job for at least two square miles around our Amish hotel. Of course I'm not kidding.

In Like a Lion

2009-03-30T18:02:00.003-04:00

April is almost upon us and The Free Press is well rested (after experimenting with hibernation) and ready to cause some trouble in your neighbourhood all spring and summer. Some of you might be lucky enough to remain trouble free until the fall.

There's a bunch more podcasts on the way, a pile of shows up on our tour schedule (with more coming) and we're shooting a video this month for, "It's Killing Me That It's Killing You." We're working with longtime friends, Steve Burley (director) and Alex Nadon (if you were dazzled by the lights and video at most of the big Canadian award shows or rock and roll tours in the last three years, chances are that Alex did it) and all the plans are very near completion. It should co-incide with a spring release of a digital single for "Killing Me" which will have a new tune and a live tune included.

So rake your leaves, plant your gardens and hide the bananas. Chances are we'll be in your backyard soon.

TFP

Winterlude

2009-01-23T17:02:00.005-05:00

After a short time of rest, the TFP machine has begun to make steam again. We're playing our first Toronto show in a good while at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern next Friday (January 30, 2009). We're supporting our good friends, Jets To Ground who are releasing a much anticipated EP.

We're also trying a bunch of new things this year. Every Monday starting on February 2nd we'll be airing a new episode of the podcast we've been working o. It's entitled: Internet! The Podcast!! It took a two thousand dollar marketing team to put that name and the whole package together, so hopefully you'll enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed making it. The idea was for us to talk about music, sports, news, food and life every week and then play a song for you. One week it'll be a song you recoginize instantly and the next it'll be an artist that we love who you probably haven't come across. There will be special guests, inflammatory remarks and pointed misbehaviour. It's everything that we, the band - good and bad - do. Sort of like Regis & Kathy Lee meets Conan O'Brien meets VH1 Storytellers but in Alex's house. We hope to have both Regis and Triumph the Insult Dog on in the near future.

Hope you're all having a happy new year so far and hope to see you soon.

TFP

A Skyline Christmas (with HD video)

2008-12-23T12:24:00.007-05:00

I've lived in the city a long time now but I still remember being baffled by my first christmas in Toronto. I would walk one block downtown from the university I was attending and there was beauty everwhere; lights, decorations, music and laughter. But if I walked one block in the opposite direction, there were things that made me feel ashamed; cold, hunger, quiet and despair. It was an incredibly powerful dichotomy for a 19 year old to take in. And despite the fact that I've been here more than ten years now, I can't let it go. I probably shouldn't. That said, anyone who's been here long enough finds it all too easy to walk past a person asking for change. But this is supposed to be the time of year we think less of what we want and more about helping others. Particularly those in need. A musician has little to offer other than music. So, the lads and I wrote a song for christmas. Of course, we wrote it the way we write most of our stuff; the bitter mixed in with the sweet. It's up on Facebook or Myspace if you want to have a listen and we've prepared a little video for you...it's a little "christian-children-funds-25cents-a-day" in its tone but the message is still an important one:

I'd encourage you to go to you tube page here and watch it in hd by click 'watch in hd' on the bottom right corner of the player. It's worth it.

The main reason we wrote it is because there are a lot of folks out there in genuine need of a meal, some clothes or a warm place to sleep. We don't want any money for the song but we'd love it if you gave some - whatever you can - to help out people who are really struggling. Here's a few links to people doing great work in and around Toronto. Or maybe there's someone closer to home - wherever that is for you - that you feel more comfortable helping out. That's cool, too. My cousin recently got the idea to give to a native charity on the reserve where our family is from and he said words couldn't express the gratitude those people felt at even the little amount of help we were able to give. Make a difference if you can, folks. That's what christmas should be about. Happy holidays.

j.d.

www.covenanthouse.on.ca
www.kidshelphone.ca
www.toronto.ca/homelessness

New Video: Live: National Pride : Kitchener, ON

2008-12-15T21:08:00.004-05:00

Facebookers, click 'view original post' to see an embedded video or click here to go directly to the you tube page.

Also available in HD so click "watch in HD" on the bottom left hand corner of the player for beter quality.

Video Episode: The Free Press in "How Hard Is It To Use A Camcorder?"

2008-12-01T01:02:00.002-05:00

Facebook viewers please click 'view original post' for emebedded video.

This is what happens when you don't spend a lot of money on your camcorder. Hoorah!

New Video Episode

2008-11-22T18:33:00.002-05:00

We're hoping to be making a lot more of these for you now that we have a fun new camera. Facebookers, you might need to click "view original post" to see the embedded video.

Appetite for Destruction

2008-11-18T05:03:00.001-05:00

Only two shows left and then it's back home for a partial musical break. There's some recording to be done (work on the single coming out in the spring and hopefully an EP for next year as well) and the video shoot for "It's Killing Me That It's Killing You" but that's interspersed with some vacations, some downtime and possibly some major, reconstructive surgery. You know. Par for the rock and roll course.

We rolled in to St. John this afternoon. We were prepared for the worst. I think the famous "once bitten, twice shy" rule applies here. Only we were bit by a gaint, angry horde of wolves on the first occasion, so I think that quantifies about 358 acts of shyness before we'll approach the proverbial dog again. If anyone doesn't know what I'm talking about, please see the journals from early June and you'll quickly discover what I'm talking about.

The last time we departed St. J was with gigantic size headaches (and for anyone not familiar with the size of J.D's head, imagine a migraine the size of Montreal, as his head is a comparable size) and what olympic atheletes would call 'severe dehydration.' This was entirely our own fault. We behaved like sixteen year olds at their first party with alcohol. The company we kept ran in different circles than us. They were more the 'Animal House,' 'Old School' crowd, but in real life. And they were east coasters and they're superhuman when it comes to 'partying'. I'm prepared to enter into debate with any scientist who denies they have a different gene structure than us.

The debate will go like this:

"Science guy, please be seated."

"East coast guy, please be seated."

They sill sit and I will force them to re-enact the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Marion drinks the butch woman under the table. I'll pour shots and they'll put them back. The first person to fall down drunk or dead, loses. In this case, Marion will be the east coaster and the butch woman will be the scientist. I will place a large bet on Marion and I will win a fortune. In fact, I may seek government funding for the endeavour. It also seems like something MuchMoreMusic would air. Apparently, they're desperate for programming. This was made clear to me when I flipped through and saw "Party of Five" repeats on the channel. I guess Jennifer Love Hewitt did have one cd, didn't she?

Regardless of my tangents, we just weren't prepared for what happened the last time we were here. You'd have thought that a five year prohibition just ended the way we carried on. So, it was with steel wills, full stomachs and a large bottle of advil that we rolled into St. John.

But our evening turned out to be quite the opposite of what we'd expected. We had a civil dinner (the Blue Olive is an incredible restaurant as well as an incredible music venue), a luxurious amount of time to set the stage, the lights and sound and then we rocked our pants off for just shy of three hours. Like Bruce Springsteen, but without the arena full of people, the thirty years of songwriting (we're only about twenty behind him now) or any blistering saxophone solos. (Although, it should be noted, there has been serious and increasing discussion about J.D. picking up the sax and adding it to the live show. It's on the 'to do' list over the xmas holidays, so we'll let you know what happens there.) We left our equipment set up (because that's what real rockstars get to do when they're playing any show that's followed by the word 'stand.' In this case, it was only a two-night 'stand' - not exactly the Rheostatics at the Horseshoe, but it's a start.) And then we went home to our friend, JM's, house - who was kind enough to house us for a few nights - and we had a nightcap and a civil discussion until the wee, wee hours of the morning.

There's always tomorrow to hurt ourselves.

Afternoon Delight

2008-11-14T09:58:00.000-05:00

A fun-fact about New Brunswick. They probably have the greatest quantity of Dairy Queens per capita in North America. The amount of DQ's we've seen is simply astonishing. Including all stops for food, gas, etc, I would estimate that we've stopped in 14 towns and cities across NB. No less than 12 of them had at least 1 Dairy Queen. At least three of them had multiple DQ's. Had we explored the other two towns more thoroughly, I'm confident they would have turned up at least one each as well. East coasters love their ice cream.

Another fun fact about New Brunswick - and generally speaking - the east coast. Pizza Delight is the preferred pizza restaurant. Sure you'll find an occasional Boston Pizza, Pizza Hut or a ma & pa but these are few and far between. Pizza Delight reigns here and the restaurants are built accordingly. Palatial, wondrous houses of deliciousness, warmth and love.

We took in a little afternoon delight in the Moncton PD today. Pizza? Delicious. Prices? Incredibly reasonable? Service? Attentive and efficient. And to top it off, we got to grill our own garlic bread. Seriously. They have a large grill in the middle restaurant and a bread bar beside it. You select as much bread as you want and grill one side. Then you butter the grilled side (with your choice of cheese, butter, garlic butter, red pepper spread, etc) and cook the other side. Voila. Free garlic toast and you've killed most of the time you'd spend waiting for your food.

That said, the road isn't all wine and roses. There's been an ever increasing problem. Dusty.

Twice now we've found him passed out deep into the dashboard. Typically - as those of you who frequent this report will know - he stands proudly and protectively just on top of the instrument panel. He acts as a guardian and navigator; pointing the way home and radiating an aura of pride and hope. So, to see him lying on his side - without pride, without hope and without dignity - is troubling. . We weren't sure if it was depression or fatigue or perhaps just the flu. But regardless, there is nothing sadder than a wallowing rhino.

The problem was clarified when I came into the hotel after running some errands and found the picture below.

I would have tried to discuss it with him, but I was both puzzled (by the plastic spoons) and somewhat frightened (by the swiss army knife he was branding). We've called a band intervention. Hopefully the local authorities won't need to get involved.

Houston...We Have a Problem

2008-11-13T11:43:00.000-05:00

I said this several times during the debreifing that occurred following yesterdays journey (video footage to follow shortly) but I feel it bears repetition again here. I have not spent a more tense 30 minutes in this band despite our 4+ years of amusement-park-like ups and downs. Even Dusty - our stoic, unflappable rhino - was rattled.

Let me paint the scene for you. We have had a shitty day. There are too many reasons to outline exactly why that's the case. Just believe me when I say we have had a shitty day. No one has died to this point, but that seems the next logical level. I will skip to the end of our story because in this case, that's the important part.

We have had a shitty day. It is well after 3 am. The full moon is buried behind an ominous wall of clouds. As such, it's dark. Scary movie dark. It is snowing lightly. It is quite cold. We have just played a show in a largish town called New Glasgow. In the last 36 hours we have driven approximately 22 hours, played music for 2 hours and moved heavy equipment for another 2 hours. Some of us are on drugs (prescribed, not recreational). Some of ice are injured (there was one ice pack and one sling applied or worn during this particular drive.) We are hungry and tired. And lost. Our GPS robot (TomTom) has - metaphorically - shrugged his shoulders and thrown his hands in the air for the last half hour. As far as he is concerned, we are in outer space and boldly going where no one has gone before. All of this adds up to trouble. Big trouble.

A not-so-fun fact about Nova Scotia and - generally speaking - the east coast. They do not believe in keeping gas stations open past midnight. This would have been a great piece of information to know BEFORE midnight, but we weren't so fortunate. This causes serious problems for any rock band leaving a show post 12 am with a shortage of gas in the tank.

The first hour was fine. The usual banter, chatter and joking about our own foolishness at leaving things to the last minute. That all stopped when the gas light went on and we were in the middle of a farmers field with no civilization in sight. In fact, I think it's fair to say a small amount of panic crept into the bus. A glimmer of hope arose when we saw lights on the horizon. We drove towards the town in silence with each man praying to his deity of choice. Though all four gas stations were closed, we managed to find a small hotel. Len darted in and returned with instructions. "Drive down the road about five minutes." Off we went.

Five minutes passed and the lights faded behind us.

Ten minutes passed. Darkness. Alex shut off our life support systems and heat. We considered the lights but they were voted as being 'necessary.'

Twelve minutes passed. Mick broached the topic of turning around.

Fifteen minutes passed. Darkness. Strained silence. We unanimously agreed to turn around.

We drove back in more darkness. The silence was broken just once when Alex engaged in a brief, audible chat with Jesus.

As we pulled back into the hotel entrance, Len (brimming with Irish anger) and Jesse both went in for instructions and possibly a good hiding of the proprietor. They returned with a key new piece of information. "20 km down the HIGHWAY." I can't tell you how useful that tidbit would have been on our first sojourn through that fellows establishment.

Regardless, we pulled on to the highway - still without heat, without life support and almost without hope. Twenty kilometres may as well be to the moon and back if you've already been driving on no fuel for 35-40 minutes. I did some quick math. The fellow had originally told us five minutes down the road. If he thought we could get 20 km in 5 minutes, we'd need to maintain an average speed of 240 km/h. This is difficult in a sports car. In a min-van with 1000 lbs of man towing a trailer with 1500 lbs of rock and roll gear, this is impossible. And - more than likely - illegal.

There was no question. Despair had sunk in. And, as in all great bedtime stories, that was the moment we were saved. Not 4 minutes down the highway (and less than 6 km), shining like a beacon through the deep, dark night was a glorious "IRVING" sign. Jubilant, exhausted and crying, "Hallelujah" we pulled off the highway, onto the overpass and then into the station that dispensed the sweet, combustible nectar that would carry us on to our next adventure.

The band van is a 2003 Dodge Caravan. Its fuel tank capacity is 80 litres.

We put 80.65 litres into the tank.

What's the moral here? Sometimes the math is horseshit and you just have to go on hope and faith. Probably why we're in a rock and roll band.

Lest We Forget

2008-11-11T23:16:00.002-05:00

A riddle for you. What has ten thumbs and starts a tour or Remembrance Day?

These guys. (The Free Press, that is).

Now, I'm not going to get all Don Cherry on you and weep while talking about those 'beautiful boys' but one has to acknowledge such an event. 90 years ago today we ended the first bout of global insanity. Let's hope that we're capable of repeating our past successes since we're clearly capable of repeating our mistakes.

The world aside, we really did start another tour today. A pleasant 12 hour drive through Ontario, Quebec and just into New Brunswick. Highlights included Len doing something he dubbed 'the anti-gravity dance' (he really did appear to be defying gravity) as we waited for the bus to get its oil changed, J.D. (with heavy moral support from Mick) fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit (more on this later) and all five of us sitting quietly in a Boston Pizza somewhere in Quebec waiting for Godot. It took them 25 minutes to try and find someone who spoke English - they never did. So, we opted for the far more local St. Hubert where the service was friendly and we have finally convinced Len that vinegar is not just for cleaning. (For more on Len's dislike of vinegar, see some older footage in Halifax).

I had thought of keeping this low-key, but that's probably not going to work since we're rolling video sporadically. I will be conducting this tour with a far more 'Hunter S Thompsonish' mentality than I have in the past. No, I am not working for Rolling Stone. Yes, I am working on a novel. No, I am not Johnny Depp's successor in the next HST film. I think I shall leave the mystery there for now, but the truth will become apparent all too soon.

"As your attorney I advise you to start drinking heavily."

Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

2008-09-28T23:59:00.001-04:00

Hey folks,

Just wanted to let you know that we've finally started to get some ink for the record. The music industry is a pretty relentless grind and it's fairly unforgiving to those trying to make it. It's even crueller to those who do make it. Constant scrutiny, criticism and questioning. Makes you wonder why we aren't all rock stars, doesn't it?

That said, there are always kind people, allies and those who just love music. A few of those folks wrote some literature on the band recently.

The first is a great piece by a fellow named Adam Grant at the Echo in the Kitchener/Waterloo area. It's just like a Rolling Stone interview but it's not in Rolling Stone; intelligent questions, informed opinions and a point to the piece. Read it here. http://www.echoweekly.com/viewstory.php?storyid=7355

The second piece is a disc review from a paper in Edmonton. Why Edmonton? We have no idea. We're bigger out west, I suppose. The first two stations to play us were in the Yukon and we considered an immediate tour until we discovered it was 5200 km. We may have to wait a big longer on that one. Regardless, this review has some unusual new insight into the way the band works. Read it here. http://www.vueweekly.com/article.php?id=9464

The third is a critique from Bryan Borzykowski who was freelancing for NOW. I think it's fair to say that he didn't like our music. Of course it's also fair to say that we didn't like his writing. However we wish him well in what is certain to be a burgeoning career as a Sears copy writer. Read his review here. http://www.nowtoronto.com/music/discs.cfm?content=164314&archive=27,49,2008

August & Everything After

2008-07-24T15:04:00.002-04:00

Hey folks,

It's a busy time for us as we try and keep the momentum rolling from the cd release at the Horseshoe a few weeks ago. Thank you to all the kind souls who came to show support at the party. I can't tell you how inspiring it is to see a legendary bar like that full of people bopping their heads to the beat and occasionally singing along. Scrumtralescent.

The summer and fall will see us touring the bejesus out of Ontario so keep checking in to see when we're coming to rock your town. Hopefully it's soon. Take care.

25 Jul 2008 Live Lounge, Ottawa
16 Aug 2008 Jimmy Jazz, Guelph
22 Aug 2008 The Boathouse, Kitchener
23 Aug 2008 Pepper Jack Cafe, Hamilton
29 Aug 2008 Bassline Station, Ottawa
13 Sep 2008 Johnny O’s Fantastic Fun Farm, Kitchener (Private Party)
19 Sep 2008 Maxwell’s Music House, Waterloo
TBA Sep 2008 The Harbor, Owen Sound
TBA Sep 2008 The Horseshoe Tavern, Toronto
11 Oct 2008 Cafe Campus, Montreal
TBA Oct 2008 Peterborough
TBA Oct 2008 The Townehouse, Sudbury
TBA Oct 2008 Norma Jean's, London
TBA Oct 2008 Bombshelter, Waterloo
TBA Oct 2008 Black Sheep Inn, Wakefield, QC

CD Release Out of Town Bus Details

2008-06-20T13:17:00.001-04:00

TORONTO CD RELEASE PARTY BUS TRIP
Friday July 11 – Horseshoe Tavern

London Departure
Location: Norma Jean’s (1332 Huron Street London)
Time: 6:30pm

Woodstock Departure
Location: Quality Inn Hwy 59 & 401 (Side / North Parking lot)
Time: 7:15pm

Brantford Departure
Location: Wendy’s / Tim Hortons (Garden Ave / 403)
Time: 7:45pm

RETURN
Leaving Toronto at 2am

Cost is $30 and includes your ticket for the show. You must purchase your ticket in advance. The bus will be a Grey Hound Coach. You can purchase tickets one of the following ways:

1. Buy a Ticket at any The Free Press or Joys show

2. Send a cheque payable to The Joys to (6337 – 2100 Bloor St. W, Toronto, On M6S 5A5) Please include your full name and contact number as well as your departure location (London, Woodstock, Brantford) Cheque must be received before July 11th.

3. Send an e-mail money transfer to mark@watsonentertainment.com

Brighter Hell

2008-06-12T12:05:00.002-04:00

Tonight marked the last night of the tour (apart from the appalling 20 hour drive home, of course). We had a late departure from Liverpool (what a surprise) and after another great meal at the Mersey house we tasked our GPS system (Tom Tom) with the top priority of finding us a DQ. Glenn and I had been jonesing since the US when he discoverd the M&M Blizzard (superior, I am told, to the Smarties Blizzard) and I discovered the Butterfinger Blizzard (superior to the Crispy Crunch Blizzard). Now, Glenn had been a little 'off' altogether since the 'accidental' freebasing accident that occurred shortly after he bought a 4 lb. bag of M&M's in a Walgreens for $4.99. But every man has his vice so we all sought the DQ with the help of the Tomtizzle.We had success about 45 minutes out of Liverpool (and halfway to Halifax) and we gorged ourselves on frozen, sugary goodness. You know - what all bands who have 5 guys that sing should do. Why didn't we just pour cream and wax down our throats as well?

Dusty and one of his groupies.

It got really, really cold as we pulled into Halifax and a fog fell over the city. I've not been to London but it's as I imagine the London fog would be. We had trouble backing up the van (and trailer) because we could barely see 6 feet behind us. The venue was pretty amazing. We played in Hell's Kitchen which is the baby bar associated with the Marquee Club (the gorgeous upstairs room that has an 850 person capacity). Jesse described it as 'strangely reminiscent of Jabba's palace' and he couldn't have been more right. It was well documented on video but we won't see that until Alex gets off his lazy bum and edits some video (in his defense this IS a tedious endeavour because we swear like a thousand, angry truckers all the time we're on the road).

The show itself was great. In the classic tradition of east coast generosity, our friend Jason MacIsaac (who got us on the bill) switched the order of the bands. We were set to go first but he said, "Nawww. We'll go first. We play here all the time and if you guys go second there'll be more people here to see you." I assure you that kind of thing never happens in Ontario. That was the best night of music I've been a part of in a while. As good as some of the bands were that we played with on the road, these guys were the most honed, the most entertaining and the most enjoyable. The other two acts (Jason's band, Silvergun and a great local act called, Alert the Medic) were just fantastic and I think we played our best show of the tour. It was a proper farewell show for a good crowd that will included a classic - almost Gord Downielike - rant from yours truly. I highly suggest searching for the bootleg. If you can't find that, just buy the record and I'll come to your house and do a rant in person. I don't know what happened, but the spirit just moved me and I went on a little sojourn in the latter part of 'The Beginning of the End of the World.' I had the crowd shouting, "I feel good! I feel strong! I feel good! I feel strong!" just before Len channelled the remainder of his M&M sugar-high into a face-melting solo. Seriously. Some folks left there with less than half a face.

Just some folks that were at our show in Halifax. (Actually they're from the exhibit at the Smithsonian I saw in Washington - sad that with a space shuttle next door to me I was more excited about R2, 3P0 and the original Kermit the Frog puppet.)

And now the long, long road home.

Destruction Addendum

2008-06-12T12:03:00.003-04:00

This is an appendix to the note known as 'Prepare to be Destroyed.' It occurred to me (as I flipped through my pictures) that I had failed to give context to the evening. Perhaps this is why it seemed so funny to us and so bizarre to the other 99.999999999% of the populace. Now, I hate to behave like a teenager and boast about how badly I hurt myself but I believe this is one of those situations where I should save my thousand words. I'll put the picture in the note, too, for future generations to enjoy and puzzle over.

Welcome to Saint John! Prepare to be destroyed.

Show a Little Mersey

2008-06-08T03:44:00.005-04:00

I know. The titles are getting lamer and lamer. This has to do with a complex math equation:Less sleep + More booze + Even more paperwork + Too much driving + Writing blogs in a van = A serious decline in the quality of pretty much everything.Pretty much everything except the rock and roll, that is. Amazing how the circumstances just get more and more stupid and the band gets better and better. We played for 3 hours last night and though it wasn't remarkable for the WHOLE 3 hours, there was certainly some of the best individual song performances we've ever had.

As you may have guessed the camera still isn't working. This kitten's name is Earnest T. Bass. What a great name for a cat. Can you dig him?

Today began (for me) at 9am. This is particularly unfortunate because I went to bed at 7am. I was up doing FACTOR paperwork. Seriously. It had to get done because we (and by we, I really mean our producer, Rick - he's a genius with the material but he's not terribly interested in semantics like paperwork and deadlines) blew out 4 deadlines in the last year. If someone gives you five figures of money I suppose it's reasonable to expect they want a product no more than a year after the original deadline (and three subsequent). So, I stayed up late doing paperwork and got up early to find a Staples in Saint John to finish it. It got done. Like the titles of these blogs, it's not pretty but it's done.

After that is was the long drive to Liverpool. We had originally intended to take the Ferry but were a bit naive about the cost of it. For 5 blokes and an extended-mini van hauling a trailer the cost was $495. Unless they serve champagne, caviar, steak and high priced escorts on the trip it just didn't seem worth it. And I could find no literature on the internet that guaranteed those things were included. As such, we drove.And when we arrived - six hours later - it was just the homecoming we'd hoped for. Michael & Heather were just as entertaining and generous as we remembered. The show was supposed to start at 9 but no one was there. So, we waited. The show was pushed to 10 but no one was there. At this point Len & I went out on the deck of the Mersey (which faces the main street) and began - essentially - to busk. We played two or three tunes and by the time we had finished the house across the street (that was having a party) had a crowd of people gathered at an open window to hear us play. By that time a small crowd had grown inside and we played the show proper. The first set was for a relatively intimate group but it swelled for the second half and all kinds of folks were dancing, grinding, drinking and singing along with the band (our hostess included). It was a great vibe and a great group of folks and once again I was really happy with the way the boys played.I think I found my bed @ 5am. We were - boy this is getting old - once again up until 4am with our host and hostess and a few others just having a good time. The acoustic guitars stayed out after the proper show and we went through what was essentially a 3rd and 4th set as we sat around, caught up and told stories. I guess we'll sleep when we're dead.

This kitten may look confused because he saw an unusual sight at 5am. Whoever said rock and roll was glamourous did not draw the short straw and have to sleep with a Portuguese man in a king sized bed with red, satin sheets. This cat is now a believer.

Prepare to be Destroyed Again

2008-06-05T11:57:00.001-04:00

Two words.

Fucking. Awesome.

We have never failed to have a great time in Saint John. Tonight we played at the Blue Olive again. Probably the nicest stage we've ever played. The sound system is top notch, the stage itself is roomy and there are LED lights, a hazer and a mirror ball. In short, everything that you want (apart from the crowd) in a rock and roll show.

The camera wouldn't work today (kind of like the band in the late morning/early afternoon) so I've decided to sprinkle the note with kittens instead. Cats are very rock and roll. Seriously. They're independant, sort of disinterested in you and all they want is to be fed and given attention on their terms.

Chris – the proprietor of the Olive – has been in a longstanding email and phone argument with us over who's more awesome. We think he's more awesome and he thinks we're more awesome. He's wrong. He wrote an article about us in the local paper discussing how he's been in the music business for a long time. He claims to have a good eye for talent and a good track record for success stories. He also promised to buy a drink for anyone who didn't think we were great. I have to tell you that was a lot of pressure on us. That could have been a lot of drinks for Chris. There's no greater endorsement than someone who sees that much music and puts their money where the mouth is for a band. In fact I had several folks tell me they were going to buy HIM a drink because they were so happy he'd coaxed them down to see us. I've got to tell you that's truly affirming as an artist to have that kind of feedback from an audience member and that kind of belief from a bar owner who has earned your respect. And the thing is he means it. Sincerely. He's a quiet, gentle and incredibly generous person. Every band comes across a handful of people that help them rise from the bogs of obscurity to the lights of the marquee. Chris is one of those guys. He will be mentioned in the book. He will be forever posted on a website (because the food is EXCELLENT in addition to his kindness and thoughtfulness). He will be played by George Clooney in the movie version of our lives. That's just the kind of guy he is.

This guy is particularly fierce. Sort of like Glenn after a few beers.

We had a great show and – despite our plans to leave early and get some work done – we stayed until the wee hours of morning laughing, telling stories and enjoying the company of Chris and his lovely head bartender, Kathy (who incidentally boosted the dead battery in our car and found us food at 3am in addition to caring for us all night). Kathy suggested a place called the Colonial Inn for good eats and crack whores (seriously). Being as we're a rock and roll band it seemed like a pretty obvious decision. But we've never been content to make the obvious choice. We make our own destiny. As such, we chose the FAR more rock and roll decision to head back to the hotel and finish the mountain of paperwork that was due in less than 18 hours. We are sooo badass.

Prepare to be Destroyed

2008-06-01T23:18:00.003-04:00

Fredericton is a great, little city. I'm continually awed by the size of the country and the stark contrasts that occur with geography and season. The last time we were in Fredericton it was bitter, cold and dark. This time it was light, warm and welcoming. In fact, due to the civility of the town I can write and upload this little journal as we sit parked on the street and I can post it as we sit and eat in the delicious Pizza Delight. Apparently Fredericton decided that the whole city should be Y-Fi and that everyone should have wireless interest for free. Last year they implemented such practice and now we enjoy the benefits. Toronto councilors take note.

We made the easy push to Saint John after the scrumtralescence of Pizza Delight. Tonight was to be a re-union with an old friend, Jeff. Jeff used to have a Celtic band called Finnigan. Three TFP members are alumni of said band and a good deal of tomfoolery, dirty jokes and alcohol went into the forging of that friendship. Having met Jeff's two brothers (one in Fredericton and the other in Saint John) AND his mom all in 12 hours, it's easy to see where he comes by his generosity and kindness. Maybe it's just something in the water here. If it is, it should be pumped into the Great Lakes as well.

Jeff, his wife and their three kids put us up for the night. Unless you've ever been camping, sailing or backpacking for more than a week you can't imagine the relief that comes with four proper walls and a stove to cook your own food on.

Several things happened after the agreement to put us up.

1. Jeff put for the idea of a bonfire but confessed that they almost lit the bell phone line on fire the last time such a blaze was set (it probably didn't hurt that there was a giant dresser on the top of the fire).

2. Jeff brought for a great deal of alcohol. When that seemed to slow, Mark (Jeff's brother) magically created more. Like stupid, foolish, nineteen year old boys – we consumed all of it. When several of us declined a beer, Jeff brought one anyway. This happened on at least a dozen occasions. Somewhere in there came the quote of the night. Jeff said, "You don't fucking come to fucking Saint John and not get fucking destroyed." Testify.

3. Jeff was discussing the 'culture' of Saint John (see above) and had a suggestion for its new tourism campaign. The provincial license plate (and perhaps the commercials) should read: Saint John. Prepare to be Destroyed.

700 km is NOT for Driving

2008-06-01T23:13:00.002-04:00

Dusty at the hotel

We left the confines of our homey hotel in Wakefield, MA and made the long drive to Fredericton, NB. Needless to say that with 5 imaginative men in an enclosed space (that's hurtling along at 100 km/h) for more than 8 hours terrible things were discussed. Chose an offensive topic, multiply the darkness by a factor of ten and you probably have a van ride with a band that's been on the road for a week. We've all agreed that we'd very much prefer it if someone was driving the bus the next time we make such a drive. So, if anyone has a bus lying around, please let us know.

We had no show booked tonight but we headed down to a place called The Capital to hit an open mic jam. In Toronto that means a host will stand up and play his own material (or 5 Zeppelin covers) and then you get to hop up and play a couple of songs before someone else has to get up and do a few of their Zeppelin covers. Again I bring up the stark contrast of societies and behaviours in the same country. When the host, Richard, heard we were from Toronto he got very excited. We asked if we could play a few tunes and he said, "Sure – you can play 5 or 6 if you want." So we ended up playing a stripped down acoustic set for a nice sized crowd and had a blast. It was one of those nights that's heartening. Just to see strangers listening, drinking, dancing and enjoying the music. We've all decided to make a conscious effort to bring some of that kindness, generosity and agreeable temperment back to Toronto.

Can you smell what Barack is cooking?

Return to Beantown

2008-05-30T04:19:00.003-04:00

Sunrise started at 4:02 am today. No shit. I can say that because I was driving a van full of drunken idiots back from Brattleboro, VT. After all the villagers captured, stuffed and hung the dwarf we celebrated until the wee hours of the morning. I abstained from the alcohol in case they tried to steal, sacrifice or slice one of us up into little pieces. They did no such thing. They showed us nothing but kindness and generosity. Shame about their little people prejudice.But I digress. I was talking about the sunrise at 4:02 am. Everyone in the band dislikes STILL being awake when you begin to hear the birds chirping. If they wake you up that’s one thing. They’re a nuisance you can feel justified berating. If they start their incessant chatter when you’re still awake it feels like you’re being both taunted and chastised. Well, the birds can suck it.I still digress. I was driving the bus through the mountains in northern Massacheussetts and the sky began to lighten. At 4:02 am. It was eerily beautiful to see the trees silhouetted in the morning light while dipping and diving across the state road that took us back to the hotel. It looked like the trees were very slowly being set on fire.We got back to the hotel shortly before 6 am and everyone was in bed pretty quickly. There was a fun surprise waiting for us in the parking lot, however. There's a video (that Alex still hasn't posted) from our last tour where I talk about the concept of 'F*$k You parking.' The concept is simple: If you're vehicle is big enough you can park wherever you'd like to. Usually we think we're being dinks because we take up 3-5 spaces. Imagine our surprise when we discovered a large tour bus (clearly parked by a master of the FYP philosophy) taking up TEN spaces! TEN!!! We had a good laugh and then went to bed.

The work of a master.

It was a rest day for us, so we got up late and did all the usual things one is supposed to do. We went to the mall, we went to a movie, Alex killed 23 moose in one sitting and we went to the city for a walk around Boston commons and the downtown core. It’s amazing how desolate American cities become after the sun goes down. Perhaps we’re just ignorant of the dangers (and maybe that’s for the best) the city holds or maybe it’s just a cultural difference. Regardless, we had a meal about a block from the Orpheum theatre (bigger than Massey Hall and a venue we fully intend to play in less than two years. ☺) After that it was back to the hotel and a bit of work; making plans for the summer tour, sussing out some new material (Len & J.D.) and the continuation of the Derek & Clive bender (both the booze and the comedy) that Mick & Alex have been on for about 72 hours now. Tomorrow we head back to Canada and terra firma. Let the good times roll.

Alex and the moose hunt.

The Orpheum Theatre in Boston, MA. See you in a couple of years!

Bullets Over Broadway Part III

2008-05-29T13:01:00.003-04:00

ACT THE THIRD

(TFP is on stage playing ‘Love and Wonder’ for the second time – as requested by a cute young woman who is dancing down front like she’s trying to shake the demons out. Some old friends from Boston sit at the bar, enjoying the show and talking to a some pretty ladies from Connecticuit. Pixus sleeps beside the bar.)

Annie: It IS big, isn’t it.

Nikki: I wonder whose is bigger.

Shawn: Ask them.

Andrea: It’s hard to tell from this angle.

Jeremy: I’m going to play the Star Wars pinball machine again.

Shawn: I’ll come with you.

Andrea: Is it me, or is Mick’s shaped like a Rhombus?

Annie: I was JUST thinking that.

Nikki: Alex’s looks like a f#*$!ing silo!

Annie: You can see that even in the dark?

Nikki: I have good night vision for that sort of thing.

Andrea: What about J.D.?

Annie: Tough to say with any certainty. There’s a lot of hair there.

Pixus: Are you talking about those melon-heads up there?

Nikki: Yes.Pixus: There’s a lot of skull on that stage tonight. Looks like abunch of candy apples with guitars and drums. Or scarecrows searching a pumpkin patch for new heads. Atleast they don’t suck. They asked me to jam with them but it’s not really my thing.

Andrea: What do you play?

Pixus: Keys. Maybe I could do one…(He stops suddenly and begins to sniff rapidly).Do you guys smell that?

Annie: Smell what?

Pixus: Dwarf!

(At this point, Pixus leaps on stage and knocks J.D. out of the way. The band grinds to a halt.)

Pixus: We have a situation everyone. I smell a dwarf about twoblocks away.

Patron # 1: No!

Pixus: I’m afraid so.

Patron # 2: When will they learn?

Pixus: I don’t know. But until they do, we take care of business. What do we do with little people?

Angry Mob: Stuff them! Hang them!

Pixus: Right! Light the torches, grab the tranq guns and let’s roll.(There is a roar of assent from the crowd and the nearly full bar empties in less than ten seconds as the mob follows Pixus into the night. The Free Press take a moment to absorb and then quietly begin to dismantle the set-up. Alex begins to speak but as he inhales, he comes to the realization that words are probably inadequate. As TFP continue to put their things away, the old man comes in and pours himself a beer.)

Old Man: Hey!

(Curtain).

Actual band photo of The Free Press.

Authors note: Ok, maybe that’s not exactly how the night played out but if Hunter S. Thompson taught us anything, it’s that gonzo journalism is impossible. We record the events as best we can remember them, but there is invariably some details that are stretched or warped to benefit the story. I have certainly used hyperbole in a few places. The old man really didn’t look that much like Einstein.

Bullets Over Broadway Part II

2008-05-28T16:10:00.003-04:00

ACT THE SECOND

(The Free Press cautiously enter the darkness of the bar called The Weathervane. They walk through the long, narrow bar. Hanging from the walls are the taxodermied bodies of the cities smallest and most eccentric looking people. They hang as a warning to outsiders: You are being Watched. Furthermore, they serve as a reminder that Brattleboro doesn’t tolerate small people. Small people are for hanging and stuffing.)

Clearly an ancient casualty of Brattleboro.

A small lady who was shamed before she was stuffed and hung.

(TFP slow as they reach the stage that is to support the evening’s rocking. The stage is in the usual state of disarrayLying – sleeping – on the stage is a large black and white dog. He seems non-plussed by the five scruffy men studying his slumber.)

Pixus, Jazz Legend and Keeper of Brattleboro.

J.D.: That’s a new one.

Mick: That IS a new one.

Alex: Do you think he knows Neverland?

(The bartender notes the interest in the dog.)

Bartender: His name is Pixus.

Len: Pixus?

Bartender: Pixus.

Alex: Pixus, do you want to sit in on Neverland?

(Pixus opens one eye to survey the deadbeats.)

Len: It’s in the key of G.

(Pixus opens his other eye).

Jesse: It’s a pretty simple four chord progression.

Pixus: Dude, it’s irrelevant.

(Pixus closes his eyes.)

Mick: Uhhh…

Bartender: Oh, sorry guys. He’s a blues man.

(Curtain)

Bullets Over Brattleboro Part I

2008-05-28T16:03:00.002-04:00

The weather has been gorgeous here the past few days and it continued as we made our way through lush, green, forested mountains and valleys that were cut with winding streams and lazy rivers. Northern Massacheussetts and Maine could easily be considered God's country. If a John Williams score had been playing in the background, it would have looked just like something out of a hollywood movie about pioneers or spanish explorers.The show at Brattleboro was really a show in three acts. The following is a Reader’s Digest Abbreviated version of the actual events.

Brattleboro falls and mountain.

ACT THE FIRST

(The Free Press van comes slowly into view. It heads towards the mountain and turns, passing a waterfall. As it snakes up a giant hill it lingers at an old movie theatre before continuing to limp towards the venue. Arriving out front of the Weathervane our heroes file out of the tourmoblie. An old, drunk, Einstein-looking-crazy-motherf$*!@r staggers out of the bar and attempts to focus on the band.)

Old Man: Hey!

(TFP manage a nod and a polite smile as they squeeze out of the van.)

Old Man: Hey!!

(TFP repeat a somewhat diminished version of their previous actions.)

Old Man: Heeeyyy!!!

(TFP exchange looks and drop a cool silence).

Old Man: HEYYYYY!!!!

(TFP lower the temperature to create a frosty silence. Jesse - TFP’s 6’3” guitar player - chooses this moment to direct a lingering look of interest at the crazy, old man.)

Old Man: Are you going to hit me?

(A beat.)

Jesse: Not yet.

(Curtain)

The theatre. Should have been our first sign that we were walking into a Stephen King novel.