Tag: music

BUSTED BY THE JUMBOTRON

Having a romantic affair can be nothing short of awesome.  I say this only because from the outside looking in, given the numbers of people who seem to carry on with affairs, what other conclusion is available to the rest of us?  Surely a past-time with so many merits, so many selling points, would be considered a legitimate way for one to spend their disposable time and money.

Unless you get caught.

Then I think it probably sucks big-time.

Getting caught and getting exposed is probably the worst thing that can happen, obviously, because where before you were moving heaven and earth to spend time with your latest squeeze, now you have a couple of divorce attorney’s driving the essentials of your life.  And when it all clears, you’ll probably have a lot less time with your kids if you have any, and more than likely a lot less cash to spend time with as well.

Even the dog stops talking to you.

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SINGH GETS CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE

Poor Jagmeet Singh.  For such a nice guy, he sure takes more than his share of lumps.

On April 28th, Canadians consigned Singh and his New Democrats to the ash heap, reducing the party to a mere shadow of its former self and removing it from official party status in the House of Commons.  The resounding electoral blow led Singh to resign as party leader, a rather inglorious fate for the man who is probably most responsible for the extension of prescription drug and dental benefits to the young and starting out and to the old and checking crowds.  Both groups looked the other way, though, when it came time to cast a ballot, caught up as they were in the two-party struggle between the Liberals and the Conservatives.

On Saturday, Jagmeet went to a concert in Toronto, a man of the people, with the people, and out with the people on a weekend night.  He claims he went to the concert to take in the talent of the opening act, a rapper named SZA, because apparently Jagmeet likes his rappers.

But the problems started when Singh remained for the featured artist, which is what 100 out of 100 people would do after shilling out for the tickets, which wouldn’t have been cheap, since the main event was Los Angeles rapper Kendrick Lamar.  And since Lamar is pretty much one of the Hip Hop giants, nobody would ever have cause to criticize Jagmeet about his choice of concerts to attend.

Except Drake.

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A NIGHT WITH DEF LEPPARD

I’ve listened to all kinds of music in my time, and my interest crosses multiple boundaries of multiple genres.  But for whatever reason, the head-banging screamer-rock of the late eighties and early nineties sort of escaped me.

I was once a head-banger, in the late seventies, but I had obviously mellowed out a decade later, and preferred to stick to my Phil Collins, Genesis, and Stevie Nicks, among many others.

And then, suddenly, 2019 was upon me, and my music interests were unexpectedly added to with the emergence of one of those same long-haired screamer bands onto my music radar, in the form of a live concert.

You see, Def Leppard was making a cross-Canada tour, and one of the stops was at the Canadian Tire Centre in Ottawa.  Normally, something like this would come and go without catching my attention.  I mean, I had heard of Def Leppard and everything, but they’d never been a band that grabbed too much of my entertainment attention or dollars.

This is where my daughter, Avery, enters the story.

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A FESTIVAL OF ERRORS?

In conversation with all the gossip-mongers out there who specialize in small-town hogwash, perhaps the topic that comes up most often, outside of Ma-Te-Way of course, is the Renfrew Bluegrass Festival, or more particularly, the cancellation of the Bluegrass Festival once hosted by the Town of Renfrew.

This festival, and its cancellation, appears to have been in the gunsights of Mayor Tom Sidney from the get-go after his election as mayor in the 2022 municipal elections.

Landslide Tom — he won by 13 votes — apparently told his newly assembled Council that the Renfrew Bluegrass Festival was no longer going to be a thing, and that he was going to be putting the boots to what a lot of other people seem to think was a wildly successful venture.

Why?

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POTTY TUNES THE NEW NORMAL

Why is my music swearing at me?

I mean, there’s no shortage of people out there who wouldn’t let too much propriety get in the way of directing a fairly robust stream of profanity my way.  But this is different.  This is supposed to be a respite from the hurly burly.  A place where I can go to get away from the whole thing, the grind, the acrimony, the recriminations. You know, Town Council.

Many people fall back on their music.  They wake up to their tunes, breakfast, lunch, and dinner with their tunes, take their tunes for a walk, drive everywhere with their tunes.

For most of us, it’s our safe place.  Our special spot.  A place to go, to indulge in one of the seemingly few pleasures of modern life.

Then GAYLE told me to go f**k myself.

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KENDRICK LAMAR COMING TO THE 6IX

So, I heard this morning that Kendrick Lamar is coming to Toronto.

Big f**king deal.

Except that it is.

We just survived six shows of Taylor Swift in The Big Smoke and now comes another performer who will command stratospheric ticket prices and bring the attention of the world onto Downtown Toronto.  But, whereas Taylor Swift fans exchange friendship bracelets with one another, we can only hope that competing rap enthusiasts don’t exchange gunfire.

Before I write another word, I have to make something profoundly clear.

I’m a gunna tell ya tha’ I ain’ no racist, and I’m a gunna tell ya that tha’ ain’t no basis, 
for dat shit I gotta say, as I startin’ wid ma day.
It only just da way it is and all ya gotta face it.

Or something like that.

My apologies to my children, to any rap fans, or to worshippers of rap warlords world-wide.  For a sixty-five year old man to be cringe-rapping into his cornflakes on a Saturday morning is perhaps a low point for just about anyone starting their day.  But in my defence, it’s important to point out that my commentary has nothing to do with skin colour, since that’s not on my list of criteria for judging a person.  So there.

Kendrick Lamar is coming to the 6IX, which is rap slang for Toronto, based upon some cleverness originated by another rapper named Drake, who happens to call Toronto home.  It’s a derivative of the city’s long serving 416 area code.

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LOSING ANOTHER FAVOURITE SINGER

I first came across James Morrison as I ambled through a Winners store on Merivale Road, awaiting my appointment to get my eyes lasered.  I had things on my mind, so wasn’t really paying attention to much, actually finding myself in the house and home section of the store, a section I don’t really ever find myself gracing.  In effect, I was just killing time before the main event arrived later that afternoon.

Over the store’s music system a song was playing that managed to cut through my pre-op fog.  It caught my attention enough that I whipped out my phone and engaged the app that identifies songs playing from other sources.  The app came back with James Morrison, and the song was Fix the World Up For You.  Nothing earth-shattering there, I just filed that info away and went off to my appointment, which for the record was successful and eye-opening.

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POLICE ESCORT FOR TAYLOR SWIFT DRAWS CRITICISM

I’m not a fan of Taylor Swift.  That said, I’m not not a fan a Taylor Swift either.

Like many of us, I know of her, I’ve heard her music, probably bopped around in the car to one of her tunes if I thought nobody was watching.  So outside of Swifties and Swift-haters, I fall in the middle of the spectrum with respect to the pop megastar, and I hope I haven’t offended with the word pop, since she kind of straddled the country/pop line for a bit there at the beginning.

I love my kids, and I feel they love me too.  But if that love were to be dependant upon me lining up for weeks or moving heaven and earth to get tickets for Taylor’s shows in Toronto, I fear, then, that the love of child to father might be in trouble.  Fortunately for me, my children haven’t insisted upon that being included in the father-child contract, and I hope I haven’t given them any ideas for the next round of negotiations.  Luckily for me again, I don’t think my kids read my stuff.

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