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February 2009

You may have heard the expression or seen the bumper sticker: Don't mess with Texas. Well, these cats messed with Texas, y'all, and messed with it real good at The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern lat night. I ain't seen gee-tar like this since my Pappy had Billy Gibbons, Link Wray and Stevie Ray Vaughan over to the ranch for some vittle back when I was just a l'il buckaroo. The drummer's got a kick drum the size of a Holstein about to give birth, y'all. He ain't a small guy but behind that kick he looks like he ain't got no legs. But don't be fooled, Flash Lightning's got legs, y'all. Flash Lightning's got legs.

Prior to getting my rock on with Flash Lightning I hit the outdoor theatre show at Nathan Phillips Square, a part of the WinterCity Festival. Close Act originates from Tilburg in the Netherlands and they have performed here numerous times in the past. The costumes and creations were eye-popping and circus harnesses allowed the actors to move like they were underwater. As for the story line, well, I think I finally figured it out: Dude goes out fishing in a row boat wearing a Sou' Wester and a rain slick and paddles across a couple of mermaids. After much splashin' and frolickin' and mermaidy good times, evil bad fishy-looking monsters on big-ass stilts come out and chase the mermaids away. Obvioulsy they are gay Evil Bad Fishy-Looking Monsters and they want Fisherman all to themselves. They then proceed steal his paddles and fishing rod to hang on the wall at their local gay bar. Fisherman, adrift at sea, decides to doff his rain gear to go "scuba" in search of his new mermaid friends. He manages to find them and their queen. Queen Mermaid either lays eggs and sits on them like a chicken or else she was riding a giant pearl with fins. More mermaidy frolicking ensues. Then Fisherman gets chased by a giant fish beasty (with an excellent tale performance, by the way... whoever worked that whale's ass really knows a thing or two about whale's asses, lemmetellya). Evil Bad Fishy-Looking things return on a huge deli meat slicer and turn Giant Fish Beasty into sushi. They catch Fisherman in a big ol' fishing net and slap Fisherman in irons (yes, Evil Bad Fishy-Looking Monsters are also into bondage), at which point Queen Mermaid and Fisherman sing a song of lament about the recent price increase of sushi. See? Theatre is really quite easy to figure out if you pay attention.

Christmas 2008

Woah, Nelly. It's been a while since we been kickin' it all up in this joint but I saw a show last week that I simply could not let slide without sharing it with all y'all. Many of you know about White Cowbell Oklahoma's annual Christmas shindig they host up at Lee's Palace every year. And if you don't, well, I just gotta say get a life and get yer ass in that audience next year because if Santa spewing snow all over the audience from a super-sized shwantz doesn't get you in the Christmas mood then I don't know what will. Opening for them was a band from Montreal called Grimskunk. Now I've been hearing about these cats for a long time but I finally caught them live on this night. I don't know what's going on here, it's like four songs and a drum solo all rolled up into one with everybody singing. This shit is off the fuckin' hook, yo. Ladies and Germs: Grimskunk.

And of course, a Cowbell show just wouldn't be a Cowbell show without Chainsaw Charlie rippin' into a few giant teddy bears.

More Hot Docs

Song Sung Blue and Shark Week

Song Sung Blue (Directed by Greg Kohs) is about Mike and Clair Sardina, a husband and wife team who had a Neil Diamond tribute act called Thunder and Lightning. They acquired quite a large cult following around Milwaukee and Chicago and even gigged with Pearl Jam once in 1995. This doc is a roller coaster ride from hell. They're on top of the world until a freak accident changes everything. Life goes to hell in a hand basket which is all captured on video and shown in all of it's ugly splendor. They eventually straighten themselves out and start to get back in the groove again when SLAM! It all goes to pot. This one is a real tear jerker but it really shows the strength and determination of a couple of dreamers who do everything they can to live that dream. Truly inspiring.

And now, without further ado, I bring you the hardest working band in Karaoke: Shark Week. Featuring: YOU! That's right, it's live band Karaoke. You show up, sign up, then get up... and let 'er rip. You can check these cats out every Tuesday at the new Tattoo Rock Parlour on Queen at Portland. It's where The Left Bank used to be. This joint's got a great sound system and amazing light show. Check out the green lasers at the end of this tune. It looks just like that scene from The Who's The Kids Are Alright.

Uncle Monk and Jerome Godboo

I've seen mountain music played in the mountains of West Virginia by a seventy year old cat who still wore clogs. I've seen Dutch bluegrass in the Boogie Woogie Bluesmen of Amsterdam (and they did it right, too). And now I've seen Tommy Ramone kickin' it traditional style here at The Dakota Tavern with his new band, Uncle Monk. Now we all know the impact The Ramones have had on modern music so I'm not going beat that drum again (I will; however, say that a few years back I put a band together in Amsterdam just for kicks. Since the drummer hadn't drummed in eight years, the bass player had never played a bass and the singer had never sung a song, I had to say, "We only have one option: we have to play only The Ramones until we all learn our instruments." Within a year we had recorded an album of all original material. That is the power and sway The Ramones' music has over rock n' roll to this very day).

But I digress. That was then and this is now (there is a bit of a delay because I had to use night mode on the camera). Tommy Ramone came out in denim and suspenders, cuffs, a leather hat, a big ol' grey ponytail and a beautiful Gibson mandolin. Accompanying him on stage was the lovely and tender-voiced Claudia Tienan. They did some bluegrass, folk, country and even a Calypso tune done mountain-style on this, their first appearance in Canada. He has a really great singing style that is simple yet effective. He inflects his words in an interesting way and seems to push the words out very hard which results in some unusual phrasing. Old school bluegrass uses a studio-quality microphone and the players all stand around it. When it comes time for a particular player's solo, he simply steps up to the mic and points the sound holes on his instrument at the mic. Instant solo boost pedal, if you will. The solo he plays here is a perfect example not only of his very fine mandolin playing, but also of the whole sound-hole directional sound thing...hole. Thing. Look out Mr. Endicott, I'm gonna git you.

After Uncle Monk played this band got up to play. We didn't catch their name and I thought I'd follow up on the Dakota's web site but they weren't even posted so it must've been a last minute addition. If you know who these cats are drop us a line so we can acknowledge them.

Last week I caught Jerome Godboo at Quigley's in the beach. This guy can tear a house down and I've seen him do it time and time again. Plus, his current line-up features some of Toronto's finest musicians. I don't even know where to begin with these cats. Here's a Hooker tune featuring Pat Rush on guitar. Awwww, shiiiiit. Then there's Al cross on drums. WTF? And Alec Fraser on bass... my head's gonna explode! We only managed to catch the early sets but I 've seen Jerome many times over the years and he still rocks the room like nobody's business. If he's not the best, he's one of Toronto's top three harp players in my humble opinion. Listen to him kick this shit right here. I always try to show the original songs to you guys but for some reason only these ones came out OK... defective cameraman or something. Actually, I think I got a bad ice cube in one of my drinks on this night. I hate when that happens.

Remember when I introduced you to our fictional writer, Skyla Sextent, a while back? She's the latest addition to our warren and she's also been peepin' some shows at the Hot Docs Film Festival. Pop on over to her button and check out her review on Carny. Well done, Skyla, you're gonna go far, kid.

The Hot Docs FIlm Festival

The world renowned Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival is back and we here at The Bunny are on it like holy on the Pope. Stay tuned as we post reviews on a whole whack of films before the festival launches on April 17, 2008. With over 170 films to choose from, we will try our best to cover as many as possible and bring to you the ones worth checking out. Be sure to also keep an eye on the FIlm and Theatere Button for SixByNine's film reviews.

I've spied a few of them but so far the best of the bunch has been Wesley Willis's Joy Rides by Chris Bagley and Kim Shively. A sad but inspiring film about a young man (from a truly messed up family from the Projects) who would freehand draw Chicago cityscapes and freeways to sell on the street. He actually made a tidy profit from his work (which really is very good and was even recognized as such by a local architectural professor and other philanthropists) and eventually ended up fulfilling his dream of writing and singing for a rock band, The Wesley Willis Fiasco. They became such an underground sensation they even went out on tour. He would eventually end up recording 50 albums and was produced by famous Dead Kennedy Jello Biafra (who probably noticed a similar singing style, although Jello was much better at singing in key). All of this time Wesley battled shizoprenia and "demons" and life on the road proved too difficult for him to control a relapsed bout of Lukemia which he eventually succumbed to in 2003. Using a childlike openness and honesty he would sing about "harmony joy rides" when times were good, "demon torture rides" when the voices in his head would overwhelm him, everyday household items, people he knew, commercial enterprises, other bands and beastialty. This film makes you wonder if things went so far to be considered "taking advantage of" but when you see the positive effect this man had on those around him, and the effects his music had on himself, there is no longer any argument: music really did save his soul.

White Vans by Aren Hansen is a funny little film about bicycle thievery. Having spent so many years in Amsterdam, where bicycles have the right-of-way before cars, this film was high on my list to see. Hearing bike theft victims fantasize about what they'd like to do to the thief is hilarious. I watched this film with a friend of mine who has seen a few bicycle chop shops here in town and the black market is certainly thriving (this film is shot in Vancouver). The most disturbing statistic for me was the fact that one third of all bike theft victims will never buy another bicycle again. That's just not right. You're letting the bastards win with that attitude. In Amsterdam, locks are called "delays". If you are worried about getting your bike stolen, just make sure it has more "delays" on it than the bicycle beside you. And do you really need a $2000 bike? You leave that shit chained to a pole outside and you deserve to get it stolen.

Killer Poet by Susan Gray is the story of Norman Porter, locked up for consecutive life-sentences for two different murders, he escaped after 25 years and lived on the lam in Chicago for another 20 years before finally getting caught and thrown back in the slammer where it looks like he will remain until his final days. This films tries to address the issues of rehabilitation and second chances but in the end I really was just left with that ol' chestnut: "if you can't do the time, don't do the crime" feeling.

The Unbearable Whiteness of Being by Faisal Aziz is a short doc about a new skin lightening product invented by a brother-sister team. Bollywood movie stars are getting fairer and fairer skinned and young people want to emulate the latest trend. This film suggests the possibility of fanning the discrimination fires or they could mereley be feeding market demand. As long as users don't start wearing cashmere Polo sweatshirts tied around their shoulders and start speaking like one of Eddy Murphy's white guy impersonations I don't really see the harm, especially if it helps make people feel more confident. These kids just seem like pretty sharp little entrepreneurs.

A Saturday Afternoon in April, 2008

Dodge Fiasco played in The Dakota Tavern last night. I've been hearing good things about this joint ever since it opened. I've heard bands talk about the quality of sound in the room, the gear and the overall vibe of the joint. The lighting is is also very cool although it does play havoc with a camera because the backlight is so strong. Dodge Fiasco has had a couple of farewell shows but it's good to see them back in the swing. These cats play some of the coolest vintage instruments, a trap kit and they really know how to get a room hoppin'.

I managed to finally get down to Evil Dead, The Musical at the Diesel Playhouse. Based on Sam Raimi's film that coined the term 'splatstick', we actually sat in "the splatter zone", the first few rows of the theatre where you get soaked with zombie blood everytime Ash the protagonist mows one of those bad boys down. This Pythonesque show puts the camp into 'sophomore campground slaughter flick'. It is written so far tongue in cheek that the tongue has ripped right through, wrapped around your head and slobbered all over your new Polo shirt. Oh, wait, you don't wanna wear that crap to this gig. Apparently they were given a chance to do two shows off-Broadway to try to impress some of the money bags down there. I heard the first show ended with a standing ovation so that could mean it will be on Broadway very soon. This is a hilarious romp through a cult classic that will have you chuckling throughout the entire show. Peep Evil Dead II before you see it just to refresh your memory, they have paid a lot of attention to detail (when they felt like it).

Bad news on the boozecan front. Quiche Lorraine's Cool Jazz Joint has to move. Hopefully they will find a new site or it could be the end of a long-standing Toronto icon. This place is frequented by some of this town's best musicians and unlike most boozecans, everybody is only high on dope and booze. Very few cokeheads around Lorraine's which is a refreshing change from the usual boozecan scene. Let's all hope they can find a new locale. If you know of any, please drop me a line.

Sunday March 9, 2008

I had to work a CMW room as a favour for a friend so I spent the weekend at Kathedral. This allowed me to hit a few more nearby CMW venues as well. By far, the highlight of my weekend was Mongrels at The Bovine Sex Club. Two drummers, Korg and Rhodes keys, a bass player adorned in animal skulls, lead guitar in bicycle shorts, a wicked set of pipes in animal print up front cranking out the very definition of rock 'n roll. These guys'll tear your head off and use it as a goblet as they feast on the carcass of a demon creature from the antiworld. I was standing beside one of the singers in White Cowbell Oklahoma who called them his "favourite Canadian band". High praise, indeed.

The night before that Alpha Galates let loose. You can't hear the vocals on this vid cuz I'm standing right under the PA, but watch 'em tear the joint down at the end of this clip. You can hear someone near me say, "That was fucking awesome!" I couldn't agree more. I was thinking the exact same thing when I heard it come from behind me like an out-of-body expereience. These cats know how to rain rock 'n roll mayhem down upon your headbanging noodle.

At some point I had to roll over to The Cameron House just to give the ol' earholes a breather. Thank Jebus Little Miss Higgins and Foy Taylor were there to soothe my aching orifices with some Memphis Minnie. That's better. In fact, that was such a soothing brain balm here's another.

Back over to the edge of the abyss to stare into the fires of hell. Here's Unit to show you the way. It's not like they haven't been there before. They like to blast the hardcore but with these hellhounds you can actually hear what the singer is saying. Of course, Jake the outstanding soundman at Kathedral had a bit to do with that as well.

If that didn't damn your soul forever to the pits of aychee double toothpick, this oughtta do it: Maximum The Hormone. Word around the campfire is these cats hit the million CD sold mark. Oh yeah, baby, they're big in Japan. But they don't need English to talk to you, they got rock (these vids were pulled for copyright infringement -Ed.)

Drowning Girl lets it rip like a tide. You might hear a piece of familiarity in this tune but this band knows how to do it right. They played a wicked set and already have a pile of real groovy tunes under their belt. Keep six on these cats, they'll be coming up for air real soon.

What else happened? Oh yeah, Late Nite Access from Australia dropped into town to add to the mayhem. These cats put on a super high energy show and sounded amazing doing it. I believe they said they'd be back in September so keep your eyes peeled if you want an arobic workout just from standing there watchin' 'em. They like to blow the doors off the joint Down Under style.

The Reverb saw Bang Camaro. Here they are doing Nightlife Commando and taking the term 'boy band' to the testosterone extreme. Fifteen, yes fifteen, cats on stage for a serious eyefull of man candy. The sound tech I was working with this night called them "a sound tech's worst nightmare". Fifteen vocalists and they all sing lead. Like a big choir of rock but everyone gets a solo. This shit was made for the arenas. These guys are gonna get big. It'll be hard. They'll need the stamina for the big push into... stardom. What did you think I was going to say?

Latefallen strut their stuff. Who knows where they're from but Reykjavik! also got down and dirty. Raggedy Angry got raggedy, Jeffree Star seems to be what the kids are into nowadays, Kid Gib had fans who drove up from Michigan through the worst snow storm of the year to peep their show. With fans like that ya gotta figure they're onto something. All in all it was a serious weekend of music in this town. This was just a small sample of it. For a thirty five dollar wrist band this is probably the cheapest ticket in town and as you can see, you can easily get your money's worth. Hail, hail rock 'n roll.

Friday March 7, 2007

Once again, Canadian Music Week is upon us. Five hundred bands from all over this stone are in town to gig at forty different venues in front of fans, industry, passer-by and regulars. Murder Records hosted the showcase at the Supermarket in Kensington Market last night. Sloan were the headliners at this particular show (it is their record label, after all) and they really kicked some ass in a very subdued and comfortable way. Yes, that's right, they can comfortably kick ass. I saw these cats a few years ago when they recorded their live CD at The Palais Royale. They kicked ass back then and they kicked ass again last night... comfortably. These guys have it all: cool pop grooves, heavy rhythms and stone cold harmonies. Unlike many new bands who have every bass and guitar on stage playing the same freakin' thing for the entire song, these cats actually understand how different instruments, if fit together properly, can create a whole greater than the sum of its parts (I'm no Pythagoras but this equation rings true in music). Plus I dig they way they swap instruments around. You get the impression these guys grew up in a basement full of gear and spent every minute they could in this basement and if one guy couldn't be there they would fill in for him on whatever instrument was needed for whatever song they felt like jamming on and then they would just jam on and on and on much like this sentence until they all learned to play different instruments very, very well. Whew. I wonder if that's what really happened with these guys. Anyhoo, they will be releasing their newest CD shortly. I believe this is one of their new tunes but having been out of country for so many years I could be wrong. I've been wrong before. Once, back in '95, I thought I made a mistake.

Saturday March 1, 2008

Stu from The Playdead Cult clothing empire has a collection of custom painted guitars on display at The Shanghai Cowgirl right now. I really dig this cat's style and it is very fitting to rock and roll and by extension: guitars. Drop by for a 'boo.

Last night was the 9th Annual Weaselpalooza down at the Steamwhistle Roundhouse. This charity event has raised over two hundred grand over the years for The Canadian Music Therapy Trust Fund. But why get it second hand from me? Here's Scott Rondeau from Hell Creek Entertainment, just one of the many people who volunteer their time for this wonderful cause. This is an evening of mostly record executive types shmoozing and boozing and throwing money around for people that need it. There was a silent auction, a Guitar Hero tourny (where the winner walked away with an actual Gibson guitar), numerous door prizes and, of course, lots of shmoozing.

When I moved back to Canada a couple of years ago all I kept hearing was George Strombo this and George Strombo that. Since I haven't had a television for past ton of years it took me a while before I finally saw his show and I must say I have been duly impressed. He gives a great interview and seems very knowledgable about the people he has on his show (not to mention the calibre of guests, very A-list). I got the chance at Weaselpalooza to put George on the other side of the microphone and here's what he had to say. I also complimented him on his show and he was very quick to credit the entire crew who pull it off. Very classy, indeed.

If you're feeling charitable yourself, drop by the Tranzac room tonight at 8pm for The Annex Zoo and a night of Clothe The Homeless. If you have a facebook account you can get all of the dirt right here.

Saturday February Something, 2008

Well, it certainly has been a while since we've updated this site so thank you all for your patience. We've been lounging on a beach in the sunny south while all you suckers were getting buried under ten feet of snow. We're back now to share your pain but with some nice eye candy from Florida to warm your cockles. Check out the fauna.

Back in '99 I found myself on a flight to Zurich for a short tour of Switzerland and Austria. This cool looking cat with a trombone case gets on the plane and sits across the aisle from me. We get to chattin' and he introduces himself to me as Buster Cooper. "Buster Cooper?" Methinks to myself, "I know that name from somewhere". Then he introduces the cat next to him as John Lamb. Someone struck a match in the back of my skull. I'm sitting with Duke Ellington's band! Benny Bailey, Barry Lee Hall, the whole shebang are on this flight. Turns out they were flying to Switzerland to play two shows for Duke's Centennial. We end up drinking together for the whole flight, they invite me backstage to one of their shows, we have the time of our lives at said show, then, almost 10 years later, I bump into these cats down in Florida, each playing different gigs less than twenty miles apart. Small freakin' world, huh? Check out John Lamb on the doghouse and see why Duke wanted him so bad. And here's Buster Cooper slidin' the 'bone. The Scatman showed up for a tune. This dude's practically pushin' up daisies but he can still scat... sort of. Notice the Spoonman stage left, too. He was playing the spoons off of his entire body, the ground, the tables and chairs around him. Good times in St. Petersburg, Effellay.

Video Cabaret is currently presenting Laurier from The History of the Village of the Small Huts at the Cameron House. This is done in a "black box" theatre style and is incredibly specialtastick. It is so amazing I just had to make up a word to describe it. Done with strategically placed spot lights and stage marks the cast pops in and out of your sight under pinpoint spots. Shadows, reflections, silhouettes and highlights flick across your peepers. It is a visual masterpiece. The actors absolutely nail the many different accents and roles they play and you will find yourself completey absorbed in their performances. These are definitely some of the finest actors I have ever seen. The make-up, wardrobe and oversized props are a beauty to behold. I really feel like it is the best theatre I've seen in quite a few years and I tend to see quite a bit of theatre.

Buckwheat Zydeco was in town last night to play the Horseshoe and did he kick some bayou butt? You can take it to your best bank, baby. This cat's been around for the long haul and he was the first to land zydeco music on a major record label. It is the only music that makes an accordian sound like a weapon of mass destruction... and there's a washboard thrown into the mix, too. Those crazy Creoles can make party music out of anything.

After the show we walked over to the Bovine and saw the damage done by that six alarm fire. Gut fucking wrenching. The coolest part of town reduced to a pile of rubble covered in huge icicles looked like something from a Tim Burton film set. The suffering won't stop for a long time. Even the shops that weren't directly hit by fire or water damage will be hit in other ways. If you're feeling charitable drop by the old stomping ground. Grab a coffee at The Shanghai Cowgirl, get some rolling papers from Shanti Baba and burn one down and then when the munchies kick in, grab a roti and a ginger beer from Albert's Jamaican. Maybe pick up a pack of smokes from the little Chinese shop there. Every single business in that neighbourhood could sure use your patronage right now and for a long time coming.

Here's the Burgess Brothers kickin' the old school blues with Shake Your Moneymaker. The blacklight in this joint (Kelly's Korner way out on Kingston Rd.) is lighting up Chris Burgess' slide like a Luke Skywalker Lightpenknife. I dig the way this cat rocks the blues. It's all about the sex, cars, booze and blues, sucka.

Check out this ad from the Dutch department store, HEMA. I love the graphics when the fire starts. Give it a sec for the show to start, if it doesn't, you might have to unblock your pop-ups to see it. It's great to see a sense of humour in advertising, makes it all worthwhile.

Thursday January 31, 2008

Today is certainly a dark day, if not the darkest, in our history. Almost as dark as the tragic events that occurred on that most horrible of days: September 14, 2001. That day shall forever haunt us and every generation to follow. A day of such sorrow and heartbreak, of tears and yes, even blubbering. Yes, I'm talking about the day they cut up my credit cards and refused to give me any other form of credit. Oh, the humanity. Not to be one to let money get in the way (ever), we here at STBunny got up, dusted ourselves off, dug deep and found many worthy investors (well, one anyway) who wish to remain, 'till this day, completely anonymous. Because of this rather large contribution we have been able to keep this site not only up and running but completely banner-free and eye-friendly. Today is the day that visual beauty and anti-commercial esthetics finally have to take a back seat to fiscal reality. The Bottom Line? We need repairs and upgrades done around here, we need to spiff this joint up and make it more interactive and we need to pay someone to do it. Don't blame us, it's that whole capitalist society thing that's makin' us do it. The gravy train days of free rides and bread lines are over. Now we gotta get real and reach for that brass ring. But we do still have some measure of self respect. So instead of plastering ads all over this page and ruining the look that so many of our creative and artistic readers comment on and enjoy, we have decided to only accept one single banner ad. Just enough to pay for some computer tech superstar, in his boxers in his mom's basement, to add a little pizzazz around here. SuperTurboBunny 2.0 if you will. If you know anyone willing to support art, music, film and theatre but buying some ad space, or if you know a computer guru who lives in his mom's basement, drop us a line. We could sure use a hand.

Tuesday January 29, 2008

Well, our technical deprtment here at the ol' bun rab site are still having some serious server issues. Fortunately, this has not deterred us from finding more brilliant writers to tittilate and tantilize. Ladies and Germs, please join me in welcoming the latest addition to SuperTurboBunny.com: Skyla Sextant, STBunny's first fictional writer... or our first confessed fictional writer, anyway.

Tuesday January 22, 2008

We had the honour of being invited to The Eleventh Annual Maple Blues Awards show last night at the Mod Club. A big slice of Canada's blues scene was on hand to present and receive awards and to fire off some great music along the way. Hosted by Dawn Tyler Watson, who did an outstanding job MC'ing her first Maples Blues Awards show, the evening went off without a hitch. Gary Kendall (the bass player whom Chicago blues legend Snooky Prior once described as "a clock") directed the Maple Blues Awards Band as they backed up the likes of Garrett Mason and Downchild, Colin James, Little Miss Higgins and many more. Unfortunately, I found myself prosecuted by the court of Murphy's Law which decreed that I not be in my seat but at the bar when Little Miss Higgins finally took to the stage. She's got a twenties or thirties sound thing goin' on and a voice that's smooth like a prohibition fog rolling in on a lake of honey surrounded by cotton ball trees... with Mint Juleps scattered around the beach, of course.

Seeing Donny Walsh in Downchild reminded of the time when his brother, the late, great Hock Walsh, showed up at Gary Kendall's Black Swan Blues Matinee back in the early nineties up on the Danforth. Some heavy metal guitar player was on stage wailing away like Yngwie Malmsteen so Gary quickly rushed him off of the stage and got Hock up to belt out Flip, Flop and Fly. Hock could fill a room even without a microphone and he did again on this day. The crowd went nuts. Afterwards, this drunken, belligerent heavy metal guitar player yelled out, "I could blow you off the fuckin' stage!" Hock stepped up to the mic and said, "Yeah, well why don't you come up and blow me on the stage." Heavy Metal was laughed right out of the bar.

Thursday January 17, 2008

The Gibson Les Paul is absolutely the most beautiful machine ever created by humankind. So beautiful and yet has completely destroyed countless stages all over the world. Double your pleasure at the end of this clip. This was at the Bovine Sex Club last night in celebration of Darryl, the owner's, birthday. Sarah Blackwood opened but we missed her gig. The Blacknines closed with some dirty ol' rock 'n roll.

I've heard of homing pigeons but I've never seen a homeless pigeon until now. Poor little guy, having to sleep on a hot air grate. Every so often I like to buy the homeless a coffee. I think he was grateful, pun intended.

Check this out: Freerice.com. If you get the meaning of any given word correct, ten grains of rice are donated by UN sponsors to help feed hungry peeps. Not only do you help to feed the hungry, you get learned up real good, guhuh.

And special thanks to Jon for the name of the harp player in the Little Walter Tribute vid posted earlier. That's Wayne Charles wailin' away down below.

Sunday January 6, 2008

More great shows from The Next Stage Theatre Festival at Factory Theatre. Jesus: The Lost Years, by Ryan Gladstone, Katherine Saunders and Bruce Horak is an absolution...err, I mean, an absolute blast. Not being one who has ever read the bible (years ago a friend ruined the ending for me... she said, "The devil did it") I was nonetheless able to keep my heathen mind on the plot. It's amazing how much you learn about that book through osmosis. This play was a high energy, fun romp through the unaccountable years of Jesus' life. From the time he was twelve to thirty is just a big ol' gaping hole of seemingly erased history. Monster Theatre, who put this play on, fill in the blanks very neatly. There is even a live band on stage for this gig and the interaction between the cast, the band and the audience was very... enlightening. The cast of two were certainly having fun doing what they were doing and audiences can really pick up on a vibe like that. Hats off to the excellent voice work done by sometimes Jesus, Ryan Gladstone.

Also playing is the gay rap opera: Bash'd! I know what you're thinking, "Another gay rap opera? When will it end?" But just because gay rap operas are starting to get so trendy they're practically pop music now does not mean this one should be missed. Ok but serioulsy folks, clocking in at 55 minutes of solid rap, the script on this play must be 80 pages long considering the way the cast spit the rhymes out so fast. You walk out of the theater feeling like you've been flurry punched by a ten foot Shwanz. There is alot of material to ingest and some might find it hard to swallow but it has very impressive performances by both Chris Craddock and Nathan Cuckow. Not an unintentional slip of the tongue anywhere. And the story itself takes a long, hard look at... our sometimes scary society.

Saturday January 5, 2008

Little Walter was the sideman of all sidemen. His harmonica revolutionized the way cats play harmonica. No one before him blew like that and now everybody does... everybody who can, that is. He spent a chunk of his career blowin' harp for Muddy Waters and you can tell right away which of Muddy's stuff has Walter playing on it. Much of that old Chicago blues stuff has such heavy and chunky grooves in it that it is actually heavier than Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin ever was, just two of many bands severely influenced by the genre. Last night at the Silver Dollar Room was a Tribute to Little Walter to celebrate his recent induction to the Hall of Fame. Hosted by Raoul from Raoul and The Big Time, this evening featured a line-up of some of T-dot's biggest and best harp players backed up by a stellar band, consisting of musician's musician Terry Wilkins, guitar afficianado Jake Chisholm, barrell house destroyer Julian Fauth (I missed the cat's name who blew harp in this vid, someone hook a brother up) and more. With Paul Reddick, Bird Stafford, Dr. Nick, Rick Zolkower and many others blowin' harp it was just like being in Chicago. In fact, the way the audience was reacting, it actually reminded me of the Chicago club scene. In case you haven't noticed, Toronto's audiences are not the most... receptive. But in Chicago the crowd always gives back and tonight in the Dollar everyone gave it all back. Posthumous congratulations, Little Walter, you've inspired millions.

Friday January 4, 2008

The Fringe Theatre Festival blows through town every summer and has been a big success for a number of years. When we started this site in the early zeros, the theatre community was all over it like treads on boards. The Fringe has started something new, The Next Stage Festival at Factory Theatre, for this most colourless time of year and have brought back some of the most successful plays of the summer to rerun for the next week or so. If A Quiet Place, by Brendan Gall, directed by Geoffrey Pounsett, is any indication of the calibre of shows represented in this festival, then this is going to be a great week. This play rocked hard. It starts out a little tense then leads into some very clever dialogue, some wonderful monologues and damn fine acting. It is very well written, very humerous and makes your brain punch the clock. The cast of two kick ass and handle the many different emotions and situations (that all take place in a room-sized doorless cube) like Shakespearean players (you'll see what I mean). Afternoon shows are 12 clams ($15 at night), a little pricier than normal but still a great deal to see some excellent theatre.

Sunday January 30, 2007

If you're an old school reader of the original "Bunny" site back in 2000, you may remember how we would update the site on a daily basis. Since those early days of lofty youth and excuberance we have learned a few things. Namely, "Damn, this is a lot of freakin' work!" Nowadays, it seems as if we're lucky to get this joint updated on a weekly basis... So, as many of you have recently discovered, check back every week or so and you'll see some fresh fish. And thanks for all of your sarcasm-laden emails enquiring about said state of affairs. Really, all feedback is good feedback... no matter how much you curse or swear. Happy New Year, Fellow Babies.

Moving on. New Years is on its way, yipeee. This is how they do things in Amsterdam. This was shot from the roof of a five story building in the Red Light District. So much soot from the explosions overhead was landing in our Champagne glasses we had to hold a hand over the top of the glass. It was crazy. The falling sparks were landing all around us. It was like a war zone. You party all night, booze all over the streets and when you wake up in the morning every single piece of public space is covered in red firecracker paper from the Chinese crackers. They're the ones all tied together and go off like a machine gun. People will tie thousands of them together so they go off like when that dude in Platoon loses it and starts mowing down the jungle from the army boat. What a finale.

Monday December 17, 2007

You know when you have one of those wild party nights and at the end of the night you fall asleep with your thumb in your ass and wake up with your thumb in your mouth? Well, I do, and it's all White Cowbell Oklahoma's fault. WCO had their annual Christmas Party at Lee's Palace this past weekend...and what a party. You can't see it too clearly but this stage has eight musicians on it, four half-naked dancing girls, a Colonel from Kentucky and Santa is pissing on the audience. These guys are bad news. On the way to the gig the band stopped at a local firehall and stole all of the toys from the toy donation box. Cahinsaw Charlie went loose on them. A big stuffed tiger, a purple dog, a teddy bear, all chainsawed into oblivion. At the end of the night, Santa came back out with a big, huge Turbo Shwantz that sucked up the styrofoan pellets, mulched them and sprayed fake snow all over the crowd like a big love explosion of Christmas cheer. If I wasn't in the Christmas mood before, I sure as hell am now.

The MotorLeague, from Moncton, opened up. Flash Lightnin got the crowd in the mood and White Cowbell Oklahoma, well, they just tore the freakin' roof off.

Thursday December 6, 2007

Ain't seen much action lately but have seen enough to warrant a comparison between North America and Europe. The biggest comparison: violence. I was in a bar in Amsterdam while the NBA finals were on. Someone in the bar noticed that fans in the crowd wearing different colours were sitting right beside each other and getting along famously. This does not happen in Europe. Football (soccer to North America) fans are completely segregated. So much so that huge stadiums are built with modular entrances (really, they can change the number of gates to accommodate the number of fans that have bought tickets for any given team) to keep fans and colours completely seperate. You will never see two teams' colours side by side. If you do, you will most likely see violence in the stands. I started to explain how in "ice hockey", all of the violence takes place on the ice. They are professionals and the fans pay good money to see the pros kick the shit out of each other... then go home with their blood lust satisfied. No reason to beat the crap out of the guy sitting beside you. Then an American overheard this particular conversation and had this to say: "Yeah, we do it different. We wait and see which team wins the finals. Then, the winning team, has the right to trash and burn, loot and fireball their own home town." Touché. Unfortunately, every culture seems to have violence imbedded in it. They just exhibit or release it in a way that is sanctioned by that particular society. Me, I like to release it on a Whack-a-mole game.

Sunday December 2, 2007

Things have been slow around here lately. With the holidays coming up, there are a lot more private parties and less material to be made public without leading certain individuals into incarceration.

Friday night was a private party in The Church On Berkeley. This is a very cool venue on Queen just west of Parliament. The Church is a converted church that has great sight lines and a nice warm sound. Unfortunately, the sound guy at this gig didn't know his ass from a Sugarpop. It is amazing how bad a really good band can sound when you've got an idiot sound guy on the board. I must admit, it was kind of fun watching my friends on stage trying to squirm their way through the show. Outrageous. Plus it was free booze. If every church offered free booze I would become a very religious man, indeed. This is Kalen from Zero Gravity Circus heatin' things up.

Awww, here's a cute little love story on You Tube. I know it's viral marketing but when it's good, it's good. Plus the music rocks.

Tuesday November 20, 2007

Cell phones. Is there anything these little wonders of the modern age cannot do? Surf, SMS, play music, take pictures, make movies and yes, even act like a phone. It's quite incredible, really, but even more incredible is the recent surge in this little marvel's foray into the film biz. Mobifest, a homegrown creation gone international, features made-for-mobile films from all over this rock. MC'd by Sean Cullen, this mobile phone film festival features short films made to be viewed on a cell phone. This medium is so new, things are in a very fascinating phase. Your typical considerations when making a feature film are non-existant. First of all, you have a screen only a few inches wide. Text and subtitles must be taken into consideration. Cinematography is a whole new ballgame. The attention span such a small screen can captivate is very narrow. And yet, millions of people around the world have the technology in their back pocket (front pocket if it's in vibrate mode) to make their own short film. And some big guns are getting into it, too. Like Don McKellar, one of the pioneers of the mobile phone film phenomenon. He was the first in the world to shoot a short film on a phone and blow it up to 35 mil.

The festival winner this year was What is a Friend?, by Anthony Dusko. You can view it and all of the other finalists on the Mobifest website. Other recommendations: Egg Love, Charles Bronson is my Paperboy, Emergency 411: At a Concert, 120 Seconds to get Elected, Colourful EU, Salad Drive By, The Long Kiss Goodbye, Customs, and Mrs. Rat.

Sunday November 17, 2007

Many moons ago I lived with a Boogie Woogie piano player and a Delta blues guitar player. The guitar player grew up a big Stevie Ray Vaughan fan and even had his guitar strung up with Stevie's strings to try to duplicate Stevie's famous sound. Stevie used the biggest, heaviest strings made and that is partly why his sound is so unique. Since practically nobody else can actually use them they are very hard to find. I tried bending strings on my roommate's guitar once and nearly sliced my fingers off. It's like playing telephone cables. Anyhoo, last night we were stumbling around and walked by Grossman's to hear somebody pulling off Stevie Ray like nobody's business. We just had to pop in for a beer and a boo. Tisket, tasket, baby.

Then it was off to Graffitti's in Kensington Market to see Vesi and his band of so-talented-it's-silly session musicians. I'm not sure what you'd call this stuff. It's like a contemporary, modern, new age, rock, jazz, fusion thing goin' on. Not really my cup of tea but superstar musicians are always worth checking out. He plays a beautiful and sweet sounding '72 Telecaster adnd he plays it well... very well.

Friday night The Dropkick Murphys were in town and by all accounts blew the doors off their gig at the Koolhaus. Afterwards ### from The Murphys dropped by The Mahones gig at The Hideout to play the penny whistle. Finny McConnell is the man behind The Mahones and he's done something most of us only dream of. He's landed the perfect gig cruising around the world, rockin' out dance floors filled with legions of adoring fans, gigging with some great musical friends and making money doin' it. A true success story. It's the life of Riley, really. The bastard.

Tuesday November 13, 2007

Life is funny. Just when you realize you've been missing out on some good ol' Rock n' Roll, The Wildbirds show up and give you an eyefull. These cats are from Wisconsin and they've been touring through Canada for the past few weeks. They've just cut an album so they'll be back in town quite a few times over the next six months touring it. I peeped 'em at The Horseshoe.

While I was there I bumped into an old friend who has recently read some research material for an upcoming book on the Boyd Gang. The last two men hung in Toronto (back to back and simultaneously) at the Don Jail were in the Boyd Gang and they swung for killin' a cop. Maybe you've read or heard something about the infamous Boyd Gang. But did you read about the fact that one of the two that swung worked at the Horseshoe? He just happened to be in the car when the gang opened up wide on the cop who pulled them over. That place has been around since Toronto's early days and if its walls could talk, they would say something like, "Damn, you wouldn't believe some of the shit that's gone on all up in this joint...and fix this crack."

Monday November 12, 2007

We've been checking out a lot of music lately but every so often I like to 'get my rock on.' The Underground Garage is great for that. They've recently moved from a tiny little basement to a much larger space upstairs. Located right downtown in the heart of Clubland, this place is a Rock n' Roll sanctuary where you can seek asylum from all of that crappy synth repetitive kick-on-every-beat with the odd fake-snare staccato canned dance music junk. They've recently started adding the occasional live gig to their roster. We haven't seen anything there so we can't comment on the sound and stage and such but we'll let you know when we do. The DJ's do a great job of spinning rock and there's not many places in town that do.

Another place for good Rock n' Roll is The Cadillac Lounge. This place just keeps getting bigger with no end in sight. Complete with half a Caddy on the front external wall and a Caddy chrome bumper for a bar, this place is a Rock n' Roll, Rockabilly, Country and even a little Burlesque hangout. With a huge patio (smokers watch out, it'll run you 365 clams if you smoke under the roof and the smoke police walk in) right on the edge of Parkdale, The Cadillac has a pretty cool customer base and a great musical sensibilty.

Tusday November 6, 2007

I heard a great story tonight but can't use the names of the players involved, suffice it to say they are both big names that everyone reading this would know...guaranteed. Let's just call them Larry and Dale, to protect the guilty. Background: Larry is a bass player who just landed a gig to play for Dale, a pretty big Canadian act at the time (1977). Larry decides he wants to play a fretless bass so he puts his bass in the shop to have the frets removed. After talking to another member of Dale's band he discovers that Dale pitches his voice to the bass and the last bass player in the band, when he went fretless, threw Dale off so much he was promptly fired from the gig. When Larry heard about this, he decided he must learn to play a fretless bass without the singer knowing it was actually fretless... which he did. He had two days until his first gig with Dale's new band so a friend of his (who escaped from a UK jail with the Great Train Robber... but that's a whole other story) came over with a big bag of coke. They did coke and drank seven gallons of coffee over the next 48 hours until he learned how to play a fretless bass but make it sound like a fretted one. He got away with it for six straight gigs until one night they played an Aretha Franklin tune that has a drum break in it where a conga player can spit on his thumb, slide it across the skin and get that sound like an African talking drum. You can get the exact same sound on a fretless bass if you slide between F# and C#, no matter what key you're in. When Dale heard this effect being played on a bass, he asked Larry after the show, "how did you get that sound?" At which point Larrry had to finally confess that he had been playing a fretless bass for the past week. To which Dale replied, "Well, if you've been doing it that long and I haven't noticed, I guess you can keep it up." The moral of the story? Drugs are good.

Monday November 5, 2007

Deep Bunny was on an extra double secret covert mission this evening. Yes, the much ballyhooed Stealth Bunny is about to launch to much fanfare. That was Fort York's marching band preparing for the Santa Claus Parade. After such a successful evening of stealthery and deceipt, we decided to check out some music to calm our frayed nerves. Laura Hubert has absolutely one of the best voices in town. This was from a regular Monday night gig she does at good ol' Grossman's. This venue was the absolute last refuge where you could smoke a joint and have a beer and nobody said a word (I'm talkin' ten years ago). After Grossman passed away, you could still get away with it for a little while. The new owners let it slide but eventually made the change. At least nothing else there has changed. It's the type of place where you'll never know what will happen on any particular evening. Take tonight for example. Some young, attractive and very hammered girl was dancing in front of the band which pissed off an old couple sitting up front. The old guy started yelling at the girl who then proceeded to light up a cigarette (something which is forbidden in this 'burg and you will suffer great and dire consequences for such inappropriate behavior, you contemptable smoking leches...oh wait, that would be me, too). The band continued to play throughout this shouting match which was only resolved after the girl was tossed from the bar. Ahh, Grossman's, you urine-soaked dive bomb, what we do without you?

Thursday November 1, 2007

Viruses, sure. Worms, never. I let my anti-virus software expire due to fatuity and I got wormed. Let this be a lesson to all you new kids out there: always practice safe surf. And so much has happened in the past week or so but our gear was in the shop and we have been unable to keep you abreast of some of the coolest events happenin' around town.

Proper updates will follow over the next few days but for now this will have to do: there was the Watstock Halloween bash to raise money for Cystic Fibrosis; Jesse Barksdale, whom Jeff Healey called Toronto's best guitar player, gigged at The Victory Cafe and does every Wednesday; Thylon Lee Whyte was at The Rex; T&T on Cherry Street has creatures from outer space you can eat; Little Miss Higgins' promo pack showed up (we first heard this girl on CBC Radio) and the Angry Sports Bastard and the Honest Fisherman have both sent us updates. Coises! I shall never surf unprotected again! And now, without further ado, I bring you Adios Pantalones. Because pants are just so over-rated. Ain't we a good looking band? As you can tell by our facial features we're all brothers from the same mother and sisters from the same mister.

Saturday October 20, 2007

The Bovine Sex Club. Do I really need to say any more? If you haven't been there then you're just one of those people who goes through life missing out on all of the cool things that happen all around you, all of the time. Or you're just scared of clubs that have the word 'sex' in them. Either way, you're missin' out. These are The Pariahs and as you can see, they play kick ass rock 'n roll.

You also may have noticed that the Bunny's got a new toy. You'll be seeing a lot more video around here in the future.

One of the members of our recent creation (see next entry) opened for the Pariahs last night. These guys are called Snowblower and they run a super tight ship.

Kicking the evening off was Troy Sinister and the Trailer Park Ghouls. Troy's been around this town for a number of years playing in a whole slew of different bands. Now he does a monthly gig at The Bovine called Outlaw Mondays.

We've got a new theme song for the site. Waddayathink?

Friday October 19, 2007

I was on set for a movie shoot with an entire band made up of friends from other bands. We decided to call ourselves Adios Pantalones. We'll keep you posted on upcoming gigs. We spent a lot of time together (40 hours in three days) in Holding before we were called up to do our thing. Hit Hair first, then Make-up, then Continuity. The AD had us rehearse once then the picture was up and they started rolling until we wrapped. Then it was back to the Craft Truck for some grub, pack up our gear, submit our voucher then split (damn, I love talking in movie-speak).

We've been warned by our lawyers not to say too much about the film but I can say it's called Repo! The Genetic Opera. It's directed by Darren Lynn Bousman from the Saw series. The premise of the film is that you can buy new organs like hearts and lungs and pay them off monthly. If you miss a few payments the Repo Man comes to your door to collect. That's when things get messy. Basically, it's Rocky Horror Picture Show meets Phantom of the Paradise meets Splatterville Central. It really looks like it's going to be a cool film so we got lucky on this one. Stay tuned for more updates and interviews.

We are procreating like...like...hmmm. Can't seem to think of anything that has a reputation for excessive procreation. Strange. Oh, well, never mind because Weekend Pass is back! I love this guy. He makes me wanna kick some G-man butt. It's starting to get real old school around here with so many SuperTurboBunny Allumni joining the ranks. Check out his stuff. You'll love it or else we'll post a ghost on your tail and bug all of your comms (oooh, now I'm digging spy-speak).

Sunday October 14, 2007

SuperTurboBunny has seen the light. We're not big on all of that God stuff around here (except for the Catholic School Zombie Bunny, of course. She'll be joining us within the next few weeks) but after Gospel Sunday at The Cloak And Dagger we have seen the light, Brothers and Sisters. This is a great evening of acoustic-only Gospel, rock, soul and Boba Fett music (...about the intergalactic bounty hunter and Master of Space and Time, Sillies). As you've already heard, the crowd gets right into it and loves to belt it out with the boys. Pay what you can, 10pm, every Sunday. The Cloak and Dagger - 394 College St. between Bathust and Spadina

Get your Gospel on, Children!

Saturday October 13, 2007

Every so often I get the feeling that people in Toronto just don't appreciate what they have. I mean let's face it, we are pretty fucking spoiled. We've got a great music scene, a real edgy art scene, great theatre and performance art, clean living in a relatively safe environment. That is until you see Iguanadonho at the Rivoli. So much for a safe environment. This cat's played with the likes of Nine Inch Nails, The Jim Rose Circus Sideshow, Ministry, The Butthole Surfers, The Lyres, Toadies and a whole whack of others. He slams either a guitar or bass on a loop and then plays on top of it. Most of the crowd just didn't get his music. It was like his songs just flew over everybody's head. Of course, they were mostly there to see some bubble gum pop band strut their stuff. Don't get me wrong, the kids were good players, but this cat's got wisdom and we could all learn a thing or two from him. Plus he's just a super nice dude. I love it when famous people stay grounded. He's a survivor, too. Marky Ray "The Zenmaster" gave the most amazing interview but my digital recorder packed it in. It pooched right at the beginning of what was probably the best interview I've ever done. And there is no way I'm going to even attempt to para-phrase him. Damn. But, as they say in Amsterdam: Shit happens. I'll just have to hit him up again next time he blows through town.

Larry Bagby also showed up from L.A. He played Johnny Cash's Bass player in Walk The Line, but let him tell you about it. He's got a straight ahead country sound but with a rockin' groove under it.

October 10, 2007

Oh... my... GAWD! Is it... could it... is it really true?!? Really, really, really? Oh, yes, folks, The Angry Sports Bastard is back. Give it up! After months of negotiation I've once again secured the services of The Angry Sports Bastard. My man drives a hard bargain and his negotiation tactics are bordering on extortion. I'm sure you'll enjoy his off-the-wall commentary and no-holds-barred attitude (If the FCC ever gets wind of him he is responsible for paying his own fines). Enjoy.

October 9, 2007

The 4th Annual Indie Week kicked off last night with a pre-launch party for the bands. This is the man behind the plan, Darryl Hurs, givin' you the 411. Wednesday is the public launch party at the Drake. Winner gets 5 G's, baby! That's a lot of cheddar, yo. Here's a list of the judges and sponsors.

I couldn't stick around because I had a pressing engagement at The Cameron House to check out Run With The Kittens. If you've never seen these cats you're missing out. I can't say enough about the level of musicianship. They not only get dynamics but also use them like very few bands can. I even spied the drummer playing the radiator last night for a spell, the sneaky bastard. Sometimes these guys can get real mellow... but not tonight. They had some serious steam to blow off. They did a new tune called Kieth's Beer. I briefly entertained the idea that these guys were gonna sell out and try to land a Kieth's commercial... until I heard the last verse. The whole band kicks and can switch from lounge to hardcore to funk like a train switches tracks. But don't trust my opinion, ask Nate's mom. I better post this one too, it's apparently a crowd favorite, Ladies and Gentlemen: Tool of the Opera.

October 6, 2007

This was sent to me from SixByNine:

The "How Did You Die?" Art Show – From October 11 – November 25

I like to think that I get art and that I can be a visual person, but I don't and I (for the most part) am not. I mean, I can see. I can determine whether or not I like a work of art, but I am not quick to understand it. I think in terms of words. I am a word person, so when I stumbled into the "How Did You Die?" exhibit I was delighted to find words, words and more words.

To explain, the artist Lisa Cruji has a firm grasp on dark humour. Her art is a combination of words and visuals. The pictures are of headstones and monuments from cemeteries with a carefully crafted tale of how the person died provided below.

I could spend hours reading her vignettes noir (complete with blood spatter) and look forward to her latest installment of intrepid tales from the Yukon and Alaska. This would be a wonderful exhibit to catch any time and I am delighted it will be showing through Halloween.

The "How Did You Die?" Art Show will be displayed at Type Books Gallery located at 883 Queen Street West (Queen and Strachan) from October 11 to November 25, 2007.

October 2, 2007

It was Monday night last night and there is never a lot to do on a Monday in this one-boat town. But there is one thing: Sophia Perlman's band, The Vipers, at the Reservoir Lounge. We've mentioned the Res around these parts before but that's only because they have a line-up there that kicks ass pretty much every night of the week. It can get expensive but only because the music swings so hot you start pounding the booze back like a sailor on shore leave. Fortunately, I've only woken up once with a new tattoo. The other problem there is that it is always packed so you must go early if you want to be able to see the show (another reason you walk out droppin' a boatload o' cash). But none of these factors apply on a Monday. There is no cover (pay what you can) and the place doesn't get too full 'cuz everyone is still blasted from the weekend. Highly recommended, Sophia's got a voice that won't quit and a band that won't split.

September 27, 2007

Some people love Jagermeister, others hate it. I'm with the former, especially when Jagermeister is celebrating its 100th-case-sold party. It was held in T-dot's own Circus School. I know, I never even knew we had one. There were bands (Saigon Hookers, White Cowbell Oklahoma, Protest The Hero and more), 40 Jagerettes, all you can drink, amazing food, cigars, 40 Jagerettes...oh, wait, I already mentioned them. They really dropped a lot of squash on this bash. What a night. Too bad the sound sucked, you couldn't understand any of the bands.

September 26, 2007

Ahhh, comedy. Where would we be without it? And you know where you can get some of that action and it won't cost you a dime? Betty's (240 King St. East, at Sherbourne) on a Wednesday. It used to be called The Betty Ford Clinic until, well, The Betty Ford Clinic found out about it and ordered them to cease and desist. Born again non-drinkers have no sense of humour. But don't worry, Corktown Comedy's got it all covered. Just check out some of the talent: it's that guy from... from... that show... on CBC. And here's the man who puts it all together, Brian Coughlin.

September 25, 2007

CBGB's. Probably the single most influential dive bar on punk music that ever existed. We heard about a tribute night dedicated to the memory of said club. I went on-line to get the details and typed "CBGB's tribute night" only to discover that practically every town in America hosts the same event. I had to narrow the search to Toronto. Held at The Silver Dollar Room, it was a mixed bag of talent, representing a number of bands in town. The Five Hot Bitches were there, White Television Alabama was there and the ghost of Joey Ramone showed up. They did one of my personal faves written by Dee-Dee, from when he used to sell his ass in mid-town Manhattan to support his smack habit. 53rd and 3rd, don't it make ya feel sick?

September 23, 2007

The Bunny tends to get invited to different things in the hopes of some free promotion. That's all good 'cuz that's what this space is all about: promoting the arts. But sometimes we get invited to some pretty boring crap. Like the show I went to last night in The Distillery District. Cool neighborhood, boring show. Instead of tearing that poor bastard down we like to focus our energies on the good stuff. Like Tory Cassis (please excuse the interruption but it is kinda funny) at The Reservoir Lounge. Now that's good stuff. He was backed up by Tyler Yarema, more good stuff. You can check out more on their gigs in the Rabbit Stew section of this site.

September 22, 2007

Ok, so you know when you go to a rock show and you see a really cool rock band? Yeah, me too. But then you go to a rock show and you see someone like C'mon. At this point, it is no longer a rock show but more like the most Rock n' Roll Show Since the Dawn of Time . These cats live, breathe and eat Rock and Roll. All you pretenders: don't fuck with this shit. Ian Blurton is like as fish in water when he's on stage. Absolutely no one looks as comfortable, relaxed and in their element as he does when he's up there wiggin' out. And don't get me started on Katie Campbell, the bass player. She's like a clock.

September 16, 2007

Things are starting to move around here now that summer is winding down. And what a summer! We hit Elvisfest in Collingwood. Elvi as far as the eye could see. The outfits and jumpsuits made you want to eat fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. No but seriously, folks, the detail and work that goes into those things are worth the drive. They also hold a Gospel choir competition but we missed it. We just dropped by on the Saturday but on Sunday they have the final competition for Best Elvis and Best Gospel choir. Next year, we're going on the Sunday.

The Elvi get scored on Best Costume, Voice, Moves, etc... You have to wear the same outfit and do the same moves as Elvis did when he performed. Elvis had certain moves and costumes for each song and if you wanna become a professional Elvis, you gotta be able to pull 'em off. The video is actually on its side. Does anybody know any free video editing software so I can flip it over? If so, hook a brother up.

Check out the moves at ElvisFest 2007

October 13, 2006 (Friday, even)

So I'm riding home on my souped-up bicycle with a black hat and cowboy boots on and it's just after last-call. I'm riding through that King Street strip between Peter and John, where all the 905-ers come to eat on weekends. There are a couple of cool bars in that 'hood but it's the clientelle who annnoy me so I only go there to see a friend's band play if need be. Anyhoo, I hear an outragously loud bust of laughter and some moron yell out "Ha ha haaaa, you're a fag!" as I ride away.

When you live on an edge, that is, in a small scene that is not endorsed by the majority of the public, then you set yourself up for receiving occasional verbal abuse and prejudiced outbursts from the general public. Years ago, I would have been worried that people thought I was a fag but only because growing up in this North American society we are taught, subliminally and way more openly, that being fag is gay ('gay' meaning 'not cool' in the language of the times, see). I really must thank this asshole though, for reminding me of the bullshit that my gay peeps must have to endure on a regular basis.

One of the things I loved about living in Europe is that if you're dressed cool, girls and guys, will say "very nice" or something similar. Almost anywhere in North America, the girls will say "nice boots" or in a sexy, smoky purr just like a kitten: "heey, cowbooooy" (as I recently experienced in The Cadiallac Lounge...woah, she really melted my butter), whereas the homophobic morons with small penises will say "Aaaaaahhh, you're a fag!"

The moron:cosmopolitan ratio here is much too high.

September 25, 2006

Having been away from Toronto for such a long time, it has been quite a transition trying to get back in the groove here. It's a good thing T-dot has such a cool music scene 'cuz it really helps. Take Club 329, for example. South side of Queen just West of Parlaiment, right in the heart of Crackland (such a thriving little community). This place is right out of a bad movie...but in a good way. Ricky runs the show (he used to play in The Platters, dontchaknow) and has quite a group of musicians up there. Some are very, very good, some can let the wheels fall right off. It's a gas. Guests come out and jam and I've seen some wicked Motown and soul singers belt it out big. Especially some of the women who show up. Miguel owns the place and he's a walking...I dunno what but he's a walking something. He's a little Greek guy, bald with a big ol' black, bushy moustache. Last week he was wearing a translucent, white cotton shirt, unbuttoned, and tied at the bottom around his considerable waist. Gold chains and bushy chest-mat hanging out all over the place. At one point, I looked over and he was standing behind the bar with a solid gold moustache comb, brushing his 'stache out with long sweeping strokes. After a good half dozen strokes on each side, he clipped his gold comb back onto one of the chains around his neck. Only in Toronto could you walk from a place like The Reservoir Lounge to this movie set, in less than ten minutes.

January 17, 2006

So. It's been a while but The Bunny is back in action. He took a few years off (five to be exact) to go gallivanting around Europe and boy, did he gallivant. You've never seen anyone gallivant soooooo much. In fact, as far as gallivanting goes, he gallivanted more than most galli...waitaminute....methinks I detect a superfluous use of the word gallivant but what the fuck, this is my shit all up in here so if you don't like it, take a gallivant. Anyway, where were we? Well, it don't matter. SuperTurboBunny is back in action. We don't know exactly what kind of action yet, we're just gonna start out slow and see where she goes. As you may or may not already know, we used to try our darndest to support and promote local art, music, film and theatre. We might still do that...or we might not, we don't really know yet. Nothing is really working around here yet, we're still cleaning out the cob webs and blowing the dust of the computer writing thingies. Most of the buttons are available for use so if you have any ideas or suggestions or feel like knocking the barnacles off your writing skills, please feel free to drop us a line at superturbobunny@gmail.com

It feels good to be back, fellow babies. Cheers!

Oh, I almost forgot. This cat below is Knuckles. He's from the wrong side of the warren. He likes chewin' carrots and kickin' ass and he's aaaaall out of carrots. So buckle up, Swee'pea, and watch your nylons, 'cuz his ride is gonna get bumpy.