You Should Have Loved Them When You Had the Chance

Originally published in a December issue of prairie dog magazine.

You Should Have Killed Us When You Had the Chance

Parkas

Saved By Radio

4 dogs

Proof there’s no God: The Parkas were twice as good as Two Hours Traffic, yet somehow failed to reach even half the national profile of the Two Minute Miracles. The Parkas played their final show last July in Toronto and you probably didn’t even know they existed until you read this paragraph. WTF, my friends?

You Should Have Killed Us When You Had the Chance comes to us like an infant in a rocketship from a doomed planet. Each song is a feat of strength magnified by our yellow sun and lesser gravity. “Isolation Pay” is David Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel” ferociously played as if an outtake from This Year’s Model, the lyrics rewritten as a convincing blue collar anthem. “Bad Comedian” is one of two odd setpieces (the other is the brilliantly simple “Face the Facts”), a roman a clef that recalls Toronto writer Jason Anderson’s overlooked 2005 novel Showbiz in the way it plies the tragedy out of comedy and then socks it right back. “Brighton Hurricane”, “Don’t Say No” and “The Gang’s All Gone” are prime examples of the meaty, muscular brand of rock the Parkas have always excelled at. “Goodnight, Nemesis” calls back to the themes of the Parkas’ first album, 2003’s Now This Is Fighting, and highlights how the band has matured. Back then, on “Giants in My Field” the Parkas cheekily riffed on Aretha, spelling “R-E-V-E-N-G-E, find out what it means to me.” Now, older and wiser, they broodingly tell us “Sometimes justice is just a grudge." You Should Have Killed Us... shows a band that held on to all that was good and interesting about itself and continuously found new ways to make it work.

mp3: "Face the Facts" by Parkas from their new, final album You Should Have Killed Us When You Had the Chance

mp3: "Scam the Tram" by Parkas from their first album Now This is Fighting

mp3: "Get on the Cardboard" by Phasers on Stun, a pre-Parkas band featuring the world famous Rhyno Bros Rhythm Section

Parkas.

What's funny is that I bought a new parka the other day.
I live in Vancouver, I don't actually need a parka. I could get away with a windbreaker over a sweater. Growing up on the Prairies, though, I had some parkas, yes sir. Big puffy numbers from the Hobo Shop, three-quarter length Hudson's Bay doozies, and yeah, oversized army surplus parkas. When I was 15, everyone I knew either had a green army surplus parka or was about to get one. Friday nights we slouched and loitered around the South End of Regina imagining ourselves ruthless street toughs until the minivans and station wagons rolled into the DJ Cinnamons parking lot at 9:30 to take us home, where, if we were lucky, our mothers would make us hot cocoa and popcorn.

My big green army surplus parka followed me around the country the winter of 1995/96. We were out there near Hawk Junction, tending to the snow mobile trails, trimming the undergrowth with Husqvarnas and Stihls. I used to put a mandarin orange in the pocket of my parka as we'd leave for the trail in the morning. By midafternoon, the juice would be frozen, but not the pulp, making for a sweet, slushy snack.

For the last three years, since I've been out on the coast, I've made do with a flock-lined corduroy jacket, real rugged-like. I bought it at a mall. In the suburbs. Aside from how heavy it gets in the rain, it's been a good coat. The main problem I've had with it is that wearing it supercedes wearing corduroy pants. Which I really like to do. But you can't wear top and bottom corduroy. Unless you're in the woods. Wrestling Bigfoot. In the year 1978.

My new parka, purchased downtown, has street cred. It's fitted, with a vinyl shell and a fuzz-lined hood. At first it reminded me of Han Solo's parka from Empire, but I don't have goggles for it. Yet.

What it really reminds me of is the type of coat tough, young single mothers from Queens wear in hip hop videos and inspirational movies. You know, that stereotypical image of the girl with the big hoop earrings and her hair back in a super-tight ponytail. She won't listen when everyone says she can't do it, or she shouldn't do it, because she has a dream and can't no one tell her she can't chase her dream. I have the same parka as her. And for a minute or two today, I was her.

It wasn't raining, so I had a choice of outerwear. Lill and I were going to the grocery store to pick up some bananas and bread, two of her favourite foods. It was just cold enough that I wanted something snug, so I wore my new parka out for the first time. I zipped it all the way up, like a turtleneck, and let the hood sort of half hang off the back of my head. On the way back, I pushed the stroller up Commercial Drive, a cloth grocery bag slipping off my shoulder. I started to feel a little swagger in my hips, a little J.Lo in my attitude. I became Emmet from the Block, and I was gonna go to beauty school and someday take my baby out of this neighbourhood and have a nice house with a yard and little fence, and well, it's just a little dream, but it's my dream and you can never take it away from me. I bobbed my head as I thought these strange thoughts and gave the stinkeye to all these people on the street judging me, thinking I'm just another girl from Queens going to beauty school, learning how to do extensions. But I'll show them, I'll show all them, that I'm something else. I'm something else.

***

The Parkas of Ontario release their final album today. You Should Have Killed Us When You Had the Chance. Great record, great band. I'll hopefully have more to say about it by the end of the year. Until then, here's a fitting track, "The Gang's All Gone" from the new alb, you can buy it from the Parkas. As well, what the hell, a track from their previous alb, Put Your Head In the Lion's Mouth: "You and What Army".

mp3: "The Gang's All Gone" by Parkas

mp3: "You and What Army?" by Parkas

When your compass only points to you...

Now that I'm well ensconced in my thirties, I've got the privilege of looking back on my twenties in disgust. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they were a total waste of time, they got me to where I am. But I coulda done better. I coulda done better by a lot of folks.
At the very least, I coulda--shoulda--done better by the many people who tried to help me. The other day we were browsing the online Arts & Entertainment section of the Leader-Post, the Regina daily newspaper for whom I wrote for five years. Nicole asked a seemingly innocuous question about an article, and my mind flashed on a particular episode about midway through my time at the L-P. But looking back on it, it was painfully obvious that I had misread the whole thing. And if I misread that, well, probably I was wrong about most everything. But what's really eating me is how wrong I was. For five years, I was wrong to Gerry Krochak.
Gerry was the one who'd invited me to write for the L-P. I'd been writing for prairie dog magazine and the student press for about four years at that point. Much respect to Mitch Diamantopoulos and Stephen Whitworth at the dog for their invaluable faith, encouragement and patience during those early years, but it was at the Leader-Post that I really started to become something resembling a writer.
I used to give Gerry sideways looks when he'd bring me leads and assignments. Can you imagine? Here's this guy, giving me the opportunity to make money doing what I say I want to do, and I'm acting like an asshole. I'm acting like he's kicking dirt on my new sneakers. I even through a tantrum or two. Meanwhile, I'm blowing deadlines and carrying on like, I dunno, like I'm too good or something. Like I'm such a great writer and I shouldn't be wasting my time on the Doobie Brothers or whatever. But Gerry kept bringing me leads, kept bringing me assignments. Gerry--along with Nick Miliokas, one of the finest wits and best editors in the whole racket--kept giving me gigs though, and most of the time, I kept taking them.
So, like, this must have been around 2003, maybe 2004, which were the prime years of my arrogance. Gerry asked me to speak with another aspiring entertainment writer, maybe give him some tips, point him in the right direction. And me, I'm all chuffed. Like, why is he putting this on me? All these years, I'd been carrying that as an insult, as an offence against me.
So the other night, after Nicole's words had spurred that memory, and I saw so clearly, that wasn't an insult, that was a compliment. And not a small or hollow one, either. The whole time, Gerry was helping me out. And I was too wrapped up in my own arrogance to even see that, let alone show some gratitude.
Now, in the present, I'm sticking some toes back in the kiddie pool, doing a few CD reviews and the odd interview, and building up to bigger things. You can find my name from time to time in prairie dog magazine and Planet S, thanks to the friendship and forgiveness of Stephen Whitworth. And, inevitably, you'll be seeing my byline everywhere and you'll be so sick of me. I'll be rich and discovering a whole new kind of arrogance, you thought I was insufferable before.
Gerry's moved on from the L-P, to Calgary, I've heard. I hope he's doing well, and maybe sometime he'll come out to the coast for a Lucinda Williams show or something, and he'll look me up and let me buy him an Indian lunch, huh? Who knows.


mp3: "The Highway Divides" by the Parkas
mp3: "Back Where I Started (Live)" by Marcellus Hall & the Headliners

Vote Your Own Country

Things to think about when you vote on Tuesday:

"Dead people don't detox." There are approximately 4,700 injection-drug users (PDF) in Vancouver's Downtown Eastside. Vancouver Coastal Health has 316 detox beds (PDF). So even if everybody woke up tomorrow morning ready to take that step toward recovery, the support isn't there for them all. In the meantime, we as a society can do something to reduce the harm (PDF) drug addiction creates for both addicts and the public. In Vancouver, we have a Supervised Injection Site that helps prevent overdose deaths, the transmission of HIV and Hep C, connects users with health care treatment and increases their chances of entering detox and recovery. Stephen Harper's Tories want to shut it down and send drug addicts to prison. Prison, it turns out, doesn't help addicts kick. Go figure.

Climate Change is gonna hurt. What's going on now with the economy is a lot like what's happening with the environment. We've been living beyond our means and the payment's coming due. Some things are still manageable, some are gone for good. It's time to grow the fuck up and deal with this.

Good luck, Canada. Hopefully Quebec will pull through for us. See you in ten days or so.

mp3: "Start Your Own Country" by the Parkas

Ten Great Songs 2007 #9: Lenin and McCarthy

"We used to have such an organized party," sings Michael Brown at the opening of this track from the Parkas' second full-length album Put Your Head in the Lion's Mouth. It's a pretty frenetic song that sometimes seems like it's been put together of scraps from other songs. There are several times where Brown shouts out what you'd think would be a recurring chorus, but great lines like "Now this is fighting!" (which happens to be the name of the Parkas' first album) only happen once and then they're gone. There's a weird intro that has nothing to do with the rest of the song. It's a Frankenstein song, a lumbering whole of unconnected slogans and riffs and it's awesome.

The Parkas haven't played outside of Ontario in nearly three years and I think that's a big pile of bullshit.

mp3: "Lenin and McCarthy" by the Parkas

Me and What Army?

It was a very exciting weekend. Not as exciting as the forever unchronicled Canada Day Long Weekend, but whatev. The big thing is that Nicole came back from Saskatchewan on Sunday, putting an end to my eight-day-long diet of ketchup chips & Pilsner.
But what might be more exciting to you, dear readers, is that between Friday afternoon and Sunday night I got a bunch of new music.
On Friday, I went downtown to the big Human Meat Vacuum to use a birthday giftcard. As mentioned in previous post, I spent a lot of my solo time just listening to music that I hadn't listened to in a while, and over the course of the week, I got WAY into Luna, thanks to a promo copy of 2004's Rendezvous.
So I was looking for The Best of Luna, hoping for the Beggars' edition, which comes with a bonus disc of cover tracks. I found it, but couldn't tell which edition it was. But it had an "Import" sticker on, so I figured I was in luck. I wasn't. But there was a flyer inside the package pointing me to Lunafied, which is where the covers are at. At 99 cents a pop. SIGH.

But while I was in the L section, I noticed the Lightning Dust album, Lightning Dust. Starring Amber Webber and Joshua Wells of Black Mountain, Lightning Dust is dark and moody folk-type (I dunno, maybe it's that "New Weird America" stuff I keep reading about in Arthur magazine) stuff, though "Wind Me Up" is pretty delightfully upbeat. "Heaven" ends with a nice melodica bit, and Amber Webber's voice is archly great. Oddly, I ended up hanging out with Josh most of Friday night. We are both Royal Trux fans.
MP3: "Listened On" by Lightning Dust

Anyway, not satisfied with a mere greatest-hits package from Luna, I also grabbed the latest alb from former Luna folks, Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips, aka Dean and Britta. Very much a contempo-take on the Lee & Nancy dynamic, but also as breathy and luxurious as the last few Luna albums. Last week, talking about my rekindled fondness for Luna to Cam, I said that they make me wish I had a high-performance car so that I could put Luna on the stereo and drive along the coast late at night. There's the thrill of going fast without the fear of losing control. Their latest album, the one I got, is called Back Numbers, and it's everything I hoped it would be.
MP3: "Our Love Will Still Be There" by Dean & Britta

Not that long ago, I realized the Parkas have a new record. As soon as I realized it, I ordered it. Thing was, since I'm a little moron, I somehow had it sent to my parents' house in Regina, rather than my house in Vancrunker. Luckily, Nicole was in Regina last week, and stopped by to hang out with my darling mother and brought me back some sweet Parka action! I'm still getting to know Put Your Head in the Lion's Mouth, but the early impression is that it's an impressive continuation of the toughening up of the Parkas that started with The Scars To Prove It EP. Here's a really excellent track that kinda makes plain the difference between the Now This Is Fighting Parkas and the Put Your Head in the Lion's Mouth edition, since it's a remake of Fighting's "The Heart Is Only A Muscle".
MP3: "A Change of Heart" by Parkas

DA FUG???

The Parkas have a new album, Put Your Head in the Lion's Mouth, and NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT IT. This is the Internet's revenge for my denouncing MySpace and Facebook. Or is it because I shaved my rhetorical moustache?
I will try to get an MP3 soon, but in the meantime, here's an awesome video for a song from their 2006 EP, The Scars to Prove It. The song is called "Darling, The Wolves".