Musings

 

May Tour Review

by Mike Soret

The law of diminishing returns states: as time goes by the luster wears and some time after the 'shark gets jumped' there's nothing left. But when you're the Molestics, never recognized at the best of times, a free plane ticket off some Toronto gigs, obscurity and a luke-warm response is all that is looked forward to. As Throbbing Gristle put it "we guarantee disappointment".

The only thing the Molestics had to do was pay for one plane ticket off four shows. That mission was accomplished along with some few hundred dollars to split amongst the band. The Toronto shows were never advertised. Even if there are fans in Toronto, they never would have heard about the shows except for the few people I met on the street. The Sudbury gig was much anticipated, so was the biggest disappointment.

We played the Rex in Toronto on the Tuesday (May 4). It was fine. Oh, sorry, what? Um, there were the usual old weird guys who liked the band. There was this skat singer named Dexter, a kind of Mennonite Billy Joel, real freak. He liked us. And some other old dude, seemed kinda lonely, kept talking to us with nothing to say. The jazz jocks played most of the night, we only played the opening and closing. I got the idea for a name for a jazz jock band: The Muscle Tones. I hate how especially sax players, but all those cats refuse the melody in their solos. Like cooking school grads who make pretty yet unpalatable food, these guys just want to show off how many inversions they can do on the chord structure and completely forget the fucken song. They forget that Parker, the king, was an incredibly melodic player even for all the notes he played.

Then 'The Townhouse' (May 7). We had rocked that hall in Sudbury in the past and I thought it would have been an exciting reunion. It wasn't. Look, if this is supposed to be a zene page, forget it. I could never zene or merch or schmooze. I'm some poor dude who (look, I just 'duded' myself) played music to get across the country and see the scenery. I never cared to end my days as a VJ, I didn't care shit for the 'industry', if they liked it I did it, and when they didn't I promised to quit. Well I waited too long by Sudbury and my girlfriend's estimation, but as I said, it was a free ticket. There were enough people to cover our guarantee, so it wasn't too humiliating, but it's over baby. Some octogenarian and his granddaughter danced. We got free pizza. My friend Mark never showed, but he's crazy so what should I expect?

Back to Toronto (May 8). "Big smoke what a joke, get burned with every toke. Even the hash is full of seeds. Forty five an eighth for outside weed." (some song we never finished). We played some place called 'Mitzi's Sister'. Nice place. A little too nice for Parkdale. You could tell there was money behind it. And I never knew money to be behind anything in Parkdale so you could smell the condos on the way. The show was fine. They taped it. We did a couple Sabbath covers that probably went over well. When I'm playing I kinda get lost so I sometimes forget how any of it goes. At one point someone clapped after one of my solos and I pretended to be writing in my diary. For people who appreciate my self-deprecating qualities, I was probably in fine form in such a place I disrespected so much. All because it was too nice for Parkdale.

The next night was at a bar named 'Mezzrows'. Typical Toronto shithole. (I'm surprised shithole doesn't get underlined by my spell-check, I guess Gates has been there). Unlike the night before where all the beer on tap was unpronounceable, this stuff was just undrinkable. And they had a familiar surly barmaid like I'd known back in my Archimedes days in Vancouver. She had such a hard-on for me I was sure we were gonna get fired. But really she didn't give a shit so long as the crowd drank their swill and I kept my cussing and dissing down to a minimum which I found easier than a warm pint of watered down Canadian. That was my favorite gig. The people who love me don't know why I hate them, and the people who hate me don't know why I love them, and I'm fine keeping it that way. Original bass player Gilles and I did a few songs together and that was probably a highlight. I love Gilles, and in many ways he hates me, so I love him more.

All in all, the only thing in Toronto is the Ronsonsvaile schnitzel and the Bloor west schwarma, and that's enough to drag me out. I love my friends and it was nice to see them, but Toronto would never get whatever the hell it is about me which causes people to drink with me. I don't get them either, but I'm glad they exist. If you're in Calgary, let me know and I'll try to go to an open stage in your neighborhood. We're supposed to do a few nights in Vancouver in July, if that happens I'll let you know.

 

Contact: molestics@ourrant.ca