Having just written one of the most inspired blogs ever conceived by man, my computer terminal decided to randomly shut down on me and I lost the whole thing. As the Americans would say: "that sucks".
Hmmm, where was I? Well I'll skip the bit I originally wrote and save it for another time I think, it was only some more complaining about all sorts of things I should really be appreciating in this Great Nation.
So last night... We took a cab down to the "west side" and frequented a little blues club called "Rosa's Lounge". Highly recommended by Lonely Planet, we thought we might impress the locals by escaping "downtown" and chilling to some provincial blues. And it didn't disappoint.
As we arrived, there were a couple of 12-year-old boys setting up the stage. Sam and I joked that we'll have to get some 12-year-old roadies for our band. We thought "how sweet, the band have brought their kids to help out". It must be tough finding a babysitter at such short notice.
Anyway, we continued chatting until our attention was drawn to some HOT blusey guitar licks coming from the stage. We looked up, and sure enough, it was the 12-year-old boy playing his Les Paul. Our jaws dropped. The drummer was also about 12 and could hardly see over the kit, but it sure sounded good. It was like a Chicago blues version of Jackson 5, squeaky voices which kept causing the mics to feed back, but hardcore blues which, if you shut your eyes, could just as well have been played by an old man with all the troubles in the world.
"This isn't good. It's time to give up." We thought. As they rattled through Mustang Sally, some Stevie Ray Vaughan and other classics, we thought there was nothing which could make us feel more inadequate. Until, that is, the drummer and guitarist swapped instruments and ripped into Voodoo Chile with just as much proficiency. Damn their talent.
Perhaps the only saving grace was the fact that they couldn't really credibly sing about "My baby's left me, she don love me no more" without you thinking it was time for their bed. Still, that will come I guess. And if you don't believe me, I looked up their MySpace site when I got back:
www.myspace.com/nextgenerationmusicmachine
Sickening.
Looking forward to watching some good old fashioned old geezers with whisky on their breath at the festival tonight.
Here's my less good experience of a Torontonian live music bar...
I walked past this place 'Rextaurant' and heard a very good trumpet player with a jazz quartet. I went in, sat at the last table where I had to crick my neck to see the band, and ordered an expensive beer. (The particular beer wasn't expensive; they all were.) The beer was surprisingly good but after one sip the band stopped and went home. There was another band on later so I thought I'd stay. But then someone came round asking for $8 cover charge for me to hear a band I didn't know perform at some unspecified later time. So I went home too.