Private Parts!
by: chrissyfur
September 22nd, 2004
Last night I got to bed early and nice. I just started a new job, and have been attempting to reinstall responsibility into my routine. This includes going to bed at reasonable times, and not driving around in my car late at night with coffee and cigarettes and whatever new record I might be obsessed with. I have been pretty successful with this. It seems going to bed at around midnight works ok for me, so far. Last night however, Howard Stern's Private Parts was on CITY TV. It came on at around 1 a.m. It was like a giant light from GOD shone down on me, awakened me from my pharoah like slumber, and made me turn it onto channel 15. This movie is hilariously funny, and it also rules.
Tonight we practice. Steve and I have been talking about a dangerously tricky little thing I might do on the 9th of the Rocktober month. I don't know if I will be able to pull this off without seriously hurting someone. If you're curious, please come right to the front at our release party that night. I promise it will be memorable. As a matter of fact, stand right in front of me during the last song.
A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood
by Trevor Kealey
September 17th, 2004
A few months ago I moved to a new neighbourhood. I now live in the west end of Ottawa, not as exciting as downtown, but it’ll have to do. So I’ve been getting to know my surroundings. For example, this afternoon I went into the big HMV store. It looks quite big from the outside, so I figured there’d be a lot of good stuff in there. Besides, it had been a while since I’d stepped foot inside an HMV and I had some time to kill, so giddie-up.
I went inside, and my suspicions were confirmed. It was quite big. The ceilings seemed to be a hundred feet above the floor, going for the whole strip-mall-warehouse style that all stores seem to do now. Obviously they were not using this extra space to house cds, but the rest of the store was very big as well. But what they did with this space was just spread out.
They have the same 500 cd’s they do at every other HMV, only now there is about 30 feet between the aisles instead of 6. They should rent golf carts at the door. It took me 3 days and 2 sherpas to get past the top sellers and new releases (most of which were the same).
I did however manage to find something worth laying money down on. I picked up the new (and last) Guided By Voices album for a fairly decent price. I expect this album to be pretty good, because it’s not just Robert Pollard messing around on his four track. The man pumps out a half dozen albums a year under various names, and while most of the songs are good, the production value really sucks a lot out of them. I am much less a fan of his lo-fi stuff.
After finding that I continued to browse. I stumbled onto Weezer. They have a ‘deluxe’ version of their blue album out. Two discs, one of which is all b-sides/rarities etc. The other disc was the original blue album. I guess I was in a mid nineties college radio mood, seeking out Guided By Voices and Weezer.
This is an album that I bought when the sweater song came out, and I learned every song on it from start to finish on guitar… my first experience with dropped tuning. I actually bought the cd for my brother for his birthday or christmas. I did that a lot, I would buy a cd for my brother’s birthday because I wanted it. Don’t get me wrong, he also wanted it, but he mostly listened to whatever I did then. He must have been twelve at the time.
That was all fine and dandy until I moved out of my parent’s house. I essentially lost half my music collection. I’ve replaced some of them, others I have tape copies of (which I never listen to since tapes have become irrelevant). Luckily over the years some of my roommates owned the Blue album, so I’ve never been without.
But when I got married, I lost that album again. (I did however gain a bunch of Flashing Light cd’s and other ones I bought for her over the years). So I made the plunge today, since it is the ‘deluxe’ version and all. It cost $50 though, but comes with a thick booklet and all. I was feeling rich for some reason.
So today I’ve been chilling to the harmonies of Rivers Cuomo and Matt Sharp again. Pretty sweet way to spend a Friday afternoon.
More Things I've Learned About Babies
by Trevor Kealey
September 14th, 2004
Continuing on my series of things that I have learned about parenting, I will now bring you up to speed on more things you should know about kids. Kaylin is now 6 weeks old, and is growing ultra fast.
Apparently it is at about this age that kids start to get a personality. They smile and laugh for reasons other than gas. For the first month, anytime I saw her smile I'd try to hand her off to someone else, because the rule is whoever is holding her when she fills her diaper has to change her. But now sometime she smiles because things are amusing.
But personality brings problems too. Like last week we were watching Family Guy and I noticed she got a real kick out of Stewie. Though she's still too young to date, I figured an innocent crush would be alright. Then on the weekend I went in to wake her up and found her drawing sketches of Stewie naked! I don't even know how she figured out what a penis is, or what it looks like, but believe me we are going to cancel cable. She watches too much Sex in the City anyway.
Recently, some of the setbacks have come to visit as well. Of course, during their visits, Kaylin eventually gets hungry, which means time to nurse. Steve has been especially enthralled by this. He hasn't asked flat out yet, but I think he wants to taste some breast milk. And I don't mean from the bottle either. Chris would never even think of doing it because he thinks only "cakes" drink milk. Apparently when Italians are young they don't breast feed because they'd get too much hair in their mouths. ZING!
Tune in next time when I explain the truth about new baby smell.
What I've Learned About Parenting
by Trevor Kealey
September 1st, 2004
I think it’s about time I update my rock and roll family about the miracle that is parenting. My daughter Kaylin is now about one month old, and feel I should share some stories. I’ll skip over the part where she emerged from her cozy womb house, as it is unsuitable for reading, plus I’m trying to forget all the things I saw that night (one word: placenta).
Anyway, Kaylin has been good so far, and I’ve been trying to mold her in my own image. This is pretty easy to do if you start early enough, because babies have very soft heads. But not only am I trying to make her physically like me, also I want her to like the things I like. Hopefully one day she’ll say that band I was in when she was a baby was cool. She came to a Setbacks show only 1 week before her birth, so I know she heard us. The Setbacks were actually trying to shake her loose with the Rock because she was already overdue at that point. Obviously we were unsuccessful. We can destroy buildings and raise the dead with our music, but we couldn’t induce labour.
One thing I’ve learned is that babies can’t handle their booze as well as adults. Only a cap full of beer is needed to keep her talking all night, telling stories about being in the womb, and how we’re all awesome and that she loves us. Just last weekend we took her to a mixed party for a friend’s wedding. She got bombed and started a fight with the DJ (none other than Paul Pattison) because he was playing too much Jet. This is weird, because when she was first born she requested Jet in the delivery room. I guess they’ve become too commercial for her now that she's older. She had been drinking rye that night, which is anger in a bottle, and was looking for a fight for any reason already. She was also pissed off because the theme of the mixed party was mesh hats and hockey jerseys but we couldn’t get a mesh hat small enough for her. I wore a Dacre hunting hat, and my Aylmer hockey jersey from when I was 11 in case you were wondering.
Parenting isn’t all fun and games though. As the father, I am unable to breast-feed, but I have many other roles to fill. I have learned to change diapers, and have learned that a naked baby will expel feces quite far, so you need to get the diaper on fast, just in case. Also (and this will get gross, so skip ahead if you have a weak stomach) babies don’t have turds, but a sort of grainy yellow brown porridge type of substance. It is hard to wipe off her ass, because the little grains are quite sticky.
Another gross thing is the umbilical chord. It hangs in their for a long time after the birth, and rots and turns brown and then black, until eventually it just falls off. Chris suggested I blast it off with the Rock, so I would often play my guitar really close to her belly button. Mostly Setbacks songs, but also songs like Sweet Child O’ Mine (which also helps her with gas) and Don’t Fear The Reaper. On the Blue Oyster Cult song, she plays along on the cowbell, but so far her rhythm is just horrible. I think that’s mostly due to her poor motor skills. They’ll develop soon enough, then she can join us on stage playing tambourines and shakers and cowbell, even djembes.
I’ll fill you in with more details at some other point, I need to go sing her lullabye – Dust in the Wind by Kansas. She also like Maggie May by Rod Stewart but hates his new stuff, so she’s pretty cool.
More Music Than We Know What To Do With....plus le fall, y'all.
by: chris
August 26th, 2004
Well well well,....seems like its that time of the year again.
I know this aura of what's to come all too well. The fall is well known as the most sobering of seasons for all writers. There's something about it. It's a highly creative season, and usually represents the most prolific songwriting periods for most musicians. Take a look out for them. You can see them at practically every Starbucks and Second Cup patio out there. Sometimes they have acoustic guitars with them, but they all will most certainly have a pad of paper. They'll be writing down their personal ditties about lost love and romantic tragedy, and they will all most certainly be wearing the latest fashions from Urban Outfitters or whatever other hip store du jour, aspiring to join the ranks of dinks like Raine and Edwin. I'm half joshing. The serious reality of this though is the simple fact that fall actually does bring out some special quality in terms of songwriting. It's nice. It's also a great time to get acquainted with a book you've been putting off of reading, or equally getting yourself in the know with a good record or two.
I think that I can say without a doubt that all four of us are pretty stoked at this point about the initial reaction to our album, "One Track Mind", which was released about a month and change ago. We have the release in Ottawa on October 9th with two amazing ass bands, Les Pugilists and The Heelwalkers, both of whom we were fans of long before. We're also introducing the record to Montreal audiences the day before, October 8th, with The Heelwalkers and Montreal's Navajo Code Talkers. The record has also been charting high on CKCU for the last month, and there seems to be some genuine buzz.
S.Palmer is away on the east coast, and the band has all concluded that our daily email exchanges have all but dissipated. It seems like Steve has been the one to initiate them. He'll be back soon enough.
Enjoying the fall....sigh.
LITTLE STEVEN'S INTERNATIONAL UNDERGROUND GARAGE FESTIVAL
Randall's Island-NYC-August 14th, 2004
August 16th, 2004
Dear Fans,
Brother Steve, our good friend Brett Rockaberry, and myself had the pleasure of attending arguably one of the biggest rock extravaganzas of the last 10 years on Saturday August 14th, 2004. Little Steven Van Zandt, the Boss' axeman in arms in the E Street Band, Sun City alumnus, Silvio from HBO's The Sopranos, and the most reknowned champion of garage rock music put on the festival of festivals in New York City. 35 bands, numerous guest appearances, and the legendary aura of New York City's historic legacy of music and pop culture. The night we got there, we went and swung by CBGBs, and had a beer at Manitoba's. Along with staying across the street from a Hell's Angels headquarters, we acknowledged the feeling of hard life royalty in the air. We slept, and headed off to Randall's Island the next day....the festival was starting at 11:00 a.m. sharp.
The sets were kept to a minimum of only a few songs at a time, like 2 to 3, until they hit the stride of some of the more popular and established acts. Old 60's mod and teenagehead movies were shown on the big screen as the hot gogo girls danced their asses off. They wore through thick and thin considering that their revolving stage broke down three bands in. Some lags in between the sets as they did the quickest gear change ups I've ever seen, but it was pulled off ever so seamlessly otherwise. Montreals' The High Dials were the only Canadian band on the bill, which was rounded out by some stellar performances by The Flaming Sideburns, The Cocktail Slippers, The Chesterfield Kings (very reminiscent of early G'N'R/Black Crowes/London Quireboys), The Electric Prunes, and The Dictators. Stellar performances by The Strokes and Bo Diddley really got things going. Julian Casablancas was bombed, and the rest of the band looked like didn't give a shit about being there, which enhanced the lazy attitude prevalent in trendsetter rock scene. Good times. His slight to New York City cops, with the performance of their song of the same name, was notably pointed out with his recognition of Dunkin Donuts as a primary sponsor. Cool. Sure enough, in the spirit of mediation, Little Steven emerged with an NYPD sweater after their set. This was all fun and nice...as it lead up to the scene stealing set of the night.
Now as a build up to this....I wish to point out a few things. The event was good, but the serious geeks, like Q104's endless barage of old fogey disc jockeys, claiming to be the ONLY classic rock station in New York, clammoring around, attempting to make up for the lag between sets was laughable. Brett, Steve, and I were all killing ourselves with the endless crap coming out of these guys mouths....radio disc jockeys can be extremely dumb sometimes. Ask Steve, he'll do a great impression of Ottawa's Robert W. Knight that will be guaranteed to keep you in stitches for a while. It does for me anyway. Anyways, these dudes came out, yakked and yakked...and the we could all tell something was brewing performance wise. The first dose of how important New York's scene was and is, was with the introduction of The New York Dolls. David Johannsen, looking as Jagger as ever, came out, and put on one hell of a show, harkening back to early 1990 when glam was finally stiffling out a bit. He had the bass player from Hanoi Rocks filling in for Arthur Kane, and that's what it reminded me of a bit...super cool nonetheless, and a bit of a sad homage to how the rock lifetsyle can kill young with the obvious absence of Johnny Thunders, yet the undying preservation of his memory.
The show was getting hot....then the mother of all sets began.
Iggy and The Stooges hit the stage last. Iggy Pop, looking as wrinkled as ever, came on with tighter jeans than Christina Aguilera, and began going apeshit. Ripping into a full on set of the entire repertoire, and even playing a "I Wanna Be Your Dog" twice, he was so rambunctious that it threw the crowd into a full on frenzy. I didn't realize until this morning, but the legendary Mike Watt was playing with them. I don't recall him being an original stooge, but he was so decked out in a full on confederate beardstache, that I didn't recognize. Iggy was writhing around as usual, threatening security with his antics, and even jumping on a million dollar IMAX camera and shaking the shit outta it like as everyone on the sidelines layed there with mouths hanging. All the dudes from Q104 were probably sipping Starbucks and spilling it on themselves as Iggy did whatever he wanted. This was spectacularly capped off with him inviting about 100 people onto the stage and throwing his own little party, dumping water on himself, and evoking the spirit of early Iggy and The Stooges gigs where he went so apeshit, that promoters didn't know what to do with him. This was awesome. I smelled a riot brewing, and began to get a little scared, attempting to convince Brett and Steve to leave a little earlier before the set stopped to avoid death. We stayed for the full set, and left not only satisfied, but feeling wiser from the experience.
We Are On A Rock'N'Roll Mission From God...
July 30th, 2004
That's right. A mission. As much a comparison to Jake & Elwood, as it is the truth, we continue our mission to explode the millions with rock food. Our gig at Barrymore's last weekend was grand. The High Strung and The Department Of Foreign Affairs were great, and the night was a very good time. We spent a large chunk of time gettin' the lowdown on the whole living in the back of van, and playing shows on the cuff thing. A very cool and dedicated method I might add...Derek, The High Strung's drummer also took the time to tell us cool stories from the road, and trade cool facts about Anton from BJM.
Our record thus far has been getting some positive reception. We booked our CD Release at The Dominion Tavern, and are playing the show with Les Pugilists. This is a double bill that is sure to rupture your ear drums and give you a series of bruises. Check out the show details.
bye for now.
c
NO MORE CHEZ (in the morning at least)
July 27th, 2004
It's happened...
I reached my breaking point this morning. I knew it was bound to happen. I was getting more and more irritated by the CHEZ 106 morning show that I listen to when my alarm goes off and while in the shower but I wasn't quite sure if they'd ever piss me off so much that I would actually be forced to change the dial. Well, they did... I have... and it feels good.
Being a fan of classic rock, I generally like the music CHEZ plays (I have to admit I immensely prefer the new 101.5 The Fox, but my bathroom radio is cheap so I don't get it unfortunately... trust me, I've tried... many times) but the morning show has really been getting increasingly on my nerves over the last couple of months. First off, the morning show barely plays any music at all. You're lucky if you hear 4 songs in a half hour block, and two of those will undoubtedly be such Cancon titans as Kim Mitchell, Tom Cochrane or Nickelback (I'm not sure when they qualified as "rock" either, let alone the "classic" variety). Secondly, the two morning show hosts, Doc and Woody, have become so watered down and predictable in their "humour" I just about want to run my Mach 3 across my wrists when they announce that "Go Ahead and Stump Us" is coming up next. The final straw was when they added the deliberately stupid sidekick, Eric the Intern. I have to be honest here, I thought – like the bigwigs at CHEZ probably thought – things might take a turn for the better with the addition of a big oaf like Eric. After all, having a 250 pound brain dead puppet at the total mercy of two aging rockers might infuse some much needed humour into this bloated corpse of a radio show.
Let’s just say I was dead wrong. Things went downhill. Fast. It was almost as if Eric was the 2nd torpedo fired into the side of an already doomed vessel. I hate to choose a single person that really pushed me over the edge when the entire production is such a piece of steaming shit, but I really have to put the bulk of the blame squarely on Eric. Not fair? Consider this – as I finally cracked this morning and abandoned CHEZ for the foreseeable future, Doc and Woody weren’t even on the air. They’re both on vacation. Eric is assisting their replacement, fellow jockey-saurus Robert W. Knight, during their week off.
Bottom line – I have my bathroom radio on CBC Radio 1 right now. I'm not sure why I chose that station and I'm not sure if I'll change it... tomorrow, the next day, or ever. All I know is I need a serious break from CHEZ's morning show.
If anybody out there sees Eric the Intern on the street, please kick him in the balls hard for me. Please... for me.
-steve
One Track Mind is born, and we also attended Bluesfest in full form....
by: Chris Saracino
July 21st, 2004
Well. The day has finally arrived.
The Setbacks gave birth to One Track Mind yesterday at about 11:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Our baby weighed about 120 lbs, collectively packaged in 2 huge ass boxes. We will be in full for sale mode at the show on Saturday, which if you're not in the know, will be our debut at Barrymore's Music Hall.
We all took turns oogling and sighing over the finished product, and are super stoked about having these finally done. This whole effort is a culmination of some new form for the band, as it is the first release with 4 full time members, as I only played on a handful of the tracks on the self title, and represents the band's last years of rehearsals, writing sessions, touring, and refining. Please buy one, they are $5. That's right, $5 bucks man.
In other news, I went to Bluesfest, and saw an assortment of amazing bands. Highlights of the event included performances by Andrew Vincent & The Pirates, Jim Bryson, Nathaniel Mayer, and an assortment of other pretty cool bands. The birdman stage was where the majority of the cool people hung. There was large gatherings of middle aged blues fanatics sporting backwards ROOTS Canada olympic berets sipping on Crystal Light, as well as an assortment of fruity djimbe guys waiting by the Blacksheep stage. Highlights and audible blurbs from these folks were things like..."Really. Tom Wilson is really awesome!"....and...."Lyle Lovett was marvelous". I don't think any of them bothered to check out the Birdman stage, where the deafening sounds of Detroit shook the law buiilding that the stage was in front of. That is rock and roll. Quaking the judicial structures.
Although I didn't see them, I heard that the dirtbombs demolished one of their drumkits, and if it was anything like last year when one of them climbed the rafter, I'm sure it was awesome.
c
Celebrity Relief Encounters
July 14th, 2004
I recently received this story from a friend of mine we'll call Mike H., actually that's too obvious, instead I'll call him M. Hollingworth. Anyway, I just felt this story needed sharing.
It has been nearly a year and half since we gathered at Stout Brothers that
fateful night when Trevor had what can only be described as a life changing
experience, Bobby Hull urinated beside him. Although my celebrity's stature
is no where near that of Trevor's I feel that the overall circumstances
warranted this being passed on to those who can appreciate it the most.
I often frequent the public gym at the Sportsplex for a lunchtime stress
relief. Heading towards the one urinal crowded up against the one stall I
noticed the latter was occupied. As I stood and relieved myself my eyes
wandered to the floor and out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the
stall's occupant was not wearing any shoes but instead was socked feet.
This was not the only oddity, as being socked footed in a public washroom
is a risk on the best of days, but his toes were curled up and his heels
not touching the floor. Now either this was some midget whose feet were
dangling or this same sock footed man I at first believe was unhygenic, was
now hovered over the porcelain to avoid skin to seat contact. And that was
when the noises began.
This man clearly had just finished off some form of mexican food or possibly a poutine as the viscous nature of the sound could suggest no other. I was disgusted and looked around for other patrons to share in the disgust and pass a wry smile of amusement. As I was washing my hands the door to stall crept open; at last my mystery hoverer or midget (I was still quite hoping for the this) would be unveiled and I could make a mental image to stay away from this gastronomic wonder during my workout.
The man in question, the Ottawa Tech Mogul himself Michael Cowpland. I know
you all anticipated more but think of this, the former richest man in
Ottawa dropped a wet size 10, 2 feet away from me.
My life now has new meaning, Michael Cowpland hovers.
There you have it, word for word the tale sent to me.
-tk
Contact the band at band[at]thesetbacks.com