I was torn between getting to work on this blog and listening to Blues Bar Café on the French CBC. Did a bit of both in the end. If you watched the intro video you see that I’m getting going on the biggest project of my life, restoring a rock musical that I wrote 50 years ago. I’ve often referred to this or that being a “lifetime project” but this one truly is. It got the guitar out of the case and got me playing regularly - jamming if not gigging.
When I announced my (semi)retirement a few years back I said I would play if I’m invited but my days of hustling gigs were over. Well yesterday I did a little hustle and put my name out for a gig and they thought I was joking! Well, no joke (as Biden says) I think I might be ready to get out there again in the fall, “if we can keep it close to home” (quoting my song “I’m not 50 anymore”). And it looks like I have wheels again. I handed off the CRV to my son back in COVID days and never really needed it since “I ain’t goin’ nowhere” (quoting the Byrds). Well this week he got himself a pick-up and gave me back the car. So I guess I better make use of it.
Out and About
You may have read some recent observations of mine about blues concerts and festivals where I was hard pressed to spot even a handful of black folks in the audience. Well, I said what I had to say about that, but conversely, last week I found myself at a festival where I was hard pressed to see even a handful of white folks amidst an ocean of black people. Of course it wasn’t a blues festival, it was Afrofest, just down the street from me in Woodbine Park - a huge space that was packed to the rafters. It was estimated that 100,000 attended over the weekend. I went on Sunday and it was packed even though it was a smaller crowd because some may have been discouraged because of a shooting the night before. Several people were slightly injured by a pellet gun (how Canadian - in the States there would have been a body count).
I wanted to see Alpha Yaya Diallo but he was a victim of the festival’s attempt to stick to the schedule (though that never seemed to bother them before). Twice they announced him only to come back and say it would be a few more minutes. By the time he got on, he played two and a half songs and then it was over. Like most well-run festivals, even if you don’t start on time you must finish on time. I didn’t hear about the event because there was no marketing or social media, at least none that came onto my radar. But they didn’t need publicity because Afrofest has morphed into a community/family event since the management was handed over to the Africans by the white folks who built it up, Nadine McNulty and Michael Stohr. It’s not about the music anymore but, oh well, it’s their community and what can you say? It’s a good sign that they were trying to stick to the schedule.
I didn’t make it out to this festival, but here's a video of Jimmy Bowskill and Steve Marriner (with Jesse Whiteley on piano) ripping it up. They’ve being playing together in various configurations and they are both headliners in the Canadian blues world - and they both deserve it. But I sure feel old when I remember back to meeting each of them when they were youngsters. I met Steve backstage at a festival in northern Ontario where we both played (Porquis Blues, it was called). He was playing with JW-Jones and being accompanied/chaperoned by his father. I don’t know how old he was then, but not as young as “Little Jimmy” Bowskill when I met him. Contrary to all the people who claim to have discovered him, it was Gary Kendall who called me many years ago and said “you've got to come up to this Saturday jam in North York to see these two 11-year olds playing the blues”. I went up to the jam and there was "Little Jimmy" and his drummer playmate, who probably went on to a more practical career, and I remember Jimmy singing a Robert Johnson song with a credible blues delivery. Amazing! I don't remember what I wrote but I took a picture and ran it in the MapleBlues - and correct me if I'm wrong, but that was probably his first media attention and I think that was before he went "Knockin’ on Healey's Door"
Here you see me with guitarist Stan Endersby, a pioneer in the early rockin days of Toronto and musicologist Rob Bowman at the annual Radio and Records party. I congratulated Rob on his recent project, a documentary on Stax Records (on Crave-TV) based on his book, “Soulsville USA - The Story of Stax Records”. Now he’s just finishing a book about Muscle Shoals. Photo by Bill King
This was at a gathering of what someone called the "back then" who's who of the Canadian Music Industry. A lot of old white men, a few women who broke the glass ceiling and a couple of black guys. It's an annual event held in the luxurious sunken patio at Roy Thomson Hall and every year there’s less and less old timers. Since last year’s party, 18 regulars had passed away. Many more did not make it because they were just not very mobile. Photographer-to-the-stars John Rowlands was there holding court but not very mobile. One gent walking very slowly with two canes was pointed out to me, "that guy's got a 3-story cabin cruiser but he can't walk up the stairs". Sad.
Before heading over to that party, I said to my friend Mike, "I won't know anybody there” (my ladder didn't go that high "back then") but the first person I ran into was Bill Munson, someone who’s written many articles for MapleBlues and the most knowledgeable guy on the early days of rock, blues and and R&B in Toronto (and he's got a wall of 45's to prove it). He was the first (and only) person to ask me about the changes (dare I say upheaval) at the Toronto Blues Society. I assured him that our founding father and guiding light Derek Andrews was still on board but was rapidly reducing his role. There were some Canadian rock pioneers there but none of my acquaintance - though I did get to say to Andy Kim that I enjoyed his "cooking show" (actually he was a guest on Michael Kaeshammer's cooking show where he cooked up his mama's pasta recipe).
I had a long chat with Tony Tobias who was a real pioneer in the early days of getting music on the internet and I brought up my musical project for which he was very encouraging after hearing my elevator pitch. In the roots music world, the "Bernies" are royalty and they were both there - Fiedler and Finkelstein. I didn't know either of them but ended up in a long conversation - mostly about car insurance - with Fiedler (a genuine folk impressario and owner of the Riverboat coffee hous in Yorkville). I commiserated with music scribe Larry Leblanc about the demise of printed editions of music publications. He was talking about the great feeling of holding a printed edition of Billboard, which he writes for but I guess he mostly reads the online edition. And how nice to see his wife Anya who is still doing publicity and radio tracking. Then I had a great talk with the Globe & Mail's music writer Brad Wheeler - the last staff music writer for any daily paper in this town. I took the opportunity to remind him that it was his turn to send me his Top Twenty for the August MapleBlues. And the now-90 irrepressible Richard Flohil was floating about and prepped me on his next Substack..."Adventures at Mariposa". He's travelling to a bunch more festivals this summer and I don't know how he does it. It was Flo who inspired me to move over to this Substack platform (I hope all my old “Blainreaders” are finding it a little more readable). It was great to catch up a bit with Lynn Cavanaugh and say hello to Joanne Smale, who I worked with at the Jazz Festival. The indefatigable Jane Harbury had a lot to do with putting this together, and I think Gary Muth is the last remaining "founder" of this pretty special gathering. They call it the Records and Radio Party, but it should be called the reunion of the Back Then Boys.
Speaking of “back then”
I was invited to a celebration of the music of Bob Segarini. It’s a year since he passed and he sure added a lot of “colour” to the Toronto music scene. Besides his life as a player, Bob had made a name for himself as a popular radio jock in Toronto in the 80s but I wasn’t around for that. But shortly after I settled in Toronto in 1990 I ran into him at the Black Swan. We had crossed paths briefly in Montreal in the early 70s when we were both recording at André Perry's Studio in Montreal (the one that was in an old church - after Brossard and before Morin-Heights). I don't think I remembered him but he sure remembered me! In the middle of that packed upstairs room at the Black Swan, he dropped to his knees doing the "I’m I’m not Worthy" hand waving motions saying over and over "Don't Forget Your Mother, Don't Forget Your Mother, Don't Forget...etc" and when he finally got back on his feet he said "Come sit with me at the bar and have I got a story for you!" It's a story I've never told (well maybe to a couple of mutual friends) - I always thought it was his to tell, but I will share it here now that he's gone. Bob told me that back when we were both working at Andre Perry's Studio he had a "meeting of the eyes" with one of the back up singers who was working on my record, Laurel Massé. Laurel and Janice Siegel were brought up from New York by John Lissauer, the arranger/musical director of their group, Manhattan Transfer and he got them to sing back-up on "Don't Forget Your Mother" (the other vocalists were Sue Lothrop and Beverly Glenn Copeland). Well Bob & Laurel met with more than their eyes in the secluded producer booth that had a small monitor speaker and overlooked the big room where we were recording. It was there that they consumated a most torrid bi-coastal love affair that lasted a long time and ruined both their marriages... and the soundtrack was Brian Blain singing "Don't Forget Your Mother" which must have become a bit of an "ear-worm" for Bob.
I related that story to Randy Bishop, the other main guy in the Wackers, at the “celebration”. He had flown up from Nashville and I’m not sure how many more original members were on stage but here’s a couple of Segarini songs that were performed at the Revival. It was a great send-off for a great character.
Another “back then” moment happened at a lovely poolside jam in Port Credit where Bobby Cohen passed me a Gibson Les Paul and said “this was Al Riddler’s – I got it from his sister after he passed.” That’s not a name that had any resonance in this group but Bob and I were on the scene in Montreal when Al Riddler ruled on St. Marc Street. His place was a magnet for rock musicians and it didn’t hurt that he was the biggest hash dealer in Montreal. Anyway, we were all swapping songs and when it came around to me, our host, David Hines, asked me to play “The Big Fire” so I pulled that one out even though I haven't played it in a long time. We jammed on it and at the end guitarist John Bride, who I was meeting for the first time, asked, "You wrote that?" and I said yeah and told him it was the only song of mine that's ever been covered on somebody else's album (Bill Garrett and Sue Lothrop) . Then Alan McKinlay pipes up, "well, I've covered it too and I was just playing it the other night at Noonan's"...and then he reaches into his guitar case and pulls out a handwritten sheet with the chords and the lyrics. Make my day, Alan.
So thanks to everyone who made their way through all this self-serving blah-blah. I wish It was more about the gigs I’ve done and the ones that are coming up, but that was then and this is now. At least I’ve got something to talk about and look forward to – the revival of my 50-year old rock musical. And if you didn’t watch that intro video, it’s the first of a series that I’ll be putting out to my paid subscribers as I share my “process” and behind-the-scenes machinations as we try to get this mega-project off the ground. If you care to be part of this adventure, you can upgrade right here:
Feel free to forward this to any friend you think might enjoy my occasional ramblings (and maybe my music, too). The archives (going back to 1990) are available at www.torontobluesdiary.blogspot.com
See you out there, eventually.
BrianB, aka Butch, Nappy, Shaker, Two-Lane Blain, Colorblind Brian, Stringbuster, Buddha of the Blues
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