A Reality TV Rockstar?
Walking the bright office corridors in Stockholm, intent with purpose and clothed in my standard black suit, it always surprises me to be recognized as a rockstar from reality TV. It seem so incongruous with my new life here, almost ridiculously out of context, and I can only laugh and smile, nodding. “Yes,” I say, “that was me rocking out on Swedish TV last night.”
In August 2004 I was the bassist in Spencer "Spenny" Rice’s
The Spennys punk band on the reality TV show
Kenny VS Spenny which was filmed in Toronto. Along with some of my best friends – Rockstar
Jay Englishman and Drummer Boy Noah Egelnick – I appear in the "
Who can put on the best concert" episode from season 1.
Kenny VS Spenny is a ridiculous show that’s sometimes very, very funny. It’s a heavily-scripted pseudo-Reality TV show about two incredibly competitive guys who try to out-idiot each other in a multitude of colourful, usually grotesque and always insane ways. It’s a fun show – like Jackass but without the incitement for kids to castrate themselves – that is slowly becoming a HUGE hit here in Sweden.
Three times in the last few weeks, colleagues have approached me with odd looks on their face to inquire whether it was ... possibly ...
ME? ... they saw on TV here. Evidently that episode has been broadcast a few times, though I haven’t caught it yet. When I am asked, I can’t help but laugh and tell the story from a life that feels so far from where I am today.
Breakthrough Films, the production company behind KVS contacted
KiTH two summers ago about purchasing an ad to promote an open call for Canadian musicians interested in participating in a new reality TV show they were filming for the
CBC. I gladly took their money, and then called all my musician friends to give them the scoop. Thinking it would be fun – at least worth shits and giggles – we went out to the auditions in a gross little North York rehearsal space near Dufferin and Finch.
It was set-up like any of the
Idol shows, where people would get up on stage and do their thing until they were called off. Some people had what seemed like 20 seconds, and others got as long as they wanted to strut their stuff. It was mad fun to watch, and reminded me a bit of an old-school vaudeville audition without the white cane. “Next!”
It was cool for me, as well, because many of the people who were there came out after seeing the ad on KiTH. I get warm fuzzies from stuff like that.
About a dozen guitarists showed up. It was soooo funny - in a
Bill & Ted kind of way - when Jay hit the stage and pulled out all his best
Eddie Van Halen moves (both musically and physically) which I'm sure he spent most of his teenage years practicing in front of the mirror. All the other musicians (and the drummers) as well as the TV crew had their jaws hanging agape in amazement as he did the standard
fretboard masturbation thang which most of 'em had never seen in real life before … of course, this included all the requisite fast arpeggiated runs, pinched harmonics, whammy dives, feedback squeals and two-handed tapping ... needless to say he got the lead gig. And the rhythm guitarist they chose was practically stapled to Jay's hip for the next 3 days trying to improve his playing through osmosis.
Only four bassists came out and ... ummmm ... I got that gig by just playing a bit.
Quite a few drummers showed up, too, and Noah was - by far - the best of 'em, but they chose a young kid with a toque because they liked the visual, or some other such reason – though the kid WAS a decent player.
Once the band was selected, we (mostly Jay, with Spencer scribbling insipid lyrics) wrote a high-energy 70’s-style punk pop song called "
I Just Wanna (Get Laid)" which we were supposed to perform for a panel of music industry professionals judging the contest. Stylistically, it sounds like a rough outtake from the
Sex Pistols’
Never Mind The Bollocks sessions and adheres to the “Close enough for Rock and Roll” style of recording perfection.
To find out the contest's result, you'll have to view the episode.
The whole shoot took 2 days and was great fun. Playing with Jay, regardless of the situation, always is. He’s one of those underrated geniuses with the potential to be another Jeff Buckley or Leonard Cohen. In time, I am sure...
We auditioned, wrote the song, practiced it, refined it, rocked out on it, and then jammed through a number of other punk tunes in a blazing hot, unventilated Toronto warehouse under scorching lights in mid-August. The camera crew were fairly top-notch and did a great job capturing the rivers of sweat flying off my scalp as I manically bounced around the stage. And the post-production made the whole thing look and sound pretty decent.
If you get a chance to see the episode, let me know what you think. Also, you can listen to
I Just Wanna (Get Laid) right here.
According to
Wikipedia, a LOT of international distribution is now in place for the show. I guess that means I now get to be “that guy from TV” who seems familiar but nobody remembers until/unless I’m bouncing around on stage with a bass on. But I’m fine with that. After all, it’s sort of fun to have "Reality TV Rockstar" on my CV along with all the serious stuff.
Cheers y'all.
Jeffrey
Enjoying some Canadian Music
I've been listening to a lot of really great Canadian Music recently. As well as perennial favourites like Kevin Quain's Hangover Honeymoon and Leonard Cohen's The Future, I've also regularly been enjoying K.D. Lang's Hymns of the 49th Parrallel and Joyful Rebellion by K-Os.
I went on a mini shopping-spree on Amazon.ca about six weeks ago and bought a number of albums that have either been missing from my collection or that have recently been released. It took that long for them to arrive here and I've been opening them one-at-a-time in order to fully appreciate their delicate sonic succulence.
Jesse Cook's Montreal Live has been a real pleasure to listen to. He's an incredible guitarist with a great musical sensibility. His arrangements are all deeply passionate and exhilarating, taking his audience through exotic adventures full of cultural riches. He expands the traditional Spanish realm of flamenco to include rhythms, melodies and tastes from Brazil, Egypt and Africa - and those are just what I can pick out. I would say that he fulfills Ottmar Liebert's promise of a Nouveau Flamenco and really creates something evocative, powerful and fascinating. That's my way of saying I recommend it!
Feist's Let It Die is also incredible. Wow, that girl can sing and write and create some really sensual, powerful magic now! I remember seeing her as "Leslie Feist" at the El Mocambo on Spadina about a decade ago and thinking that she was good, but not incredible. To say the very least, that has since changed dramatically. When I caught her at The Pheonix last year with Gwyneth, I was mesmerized by the artist she has evolved into. She's now a spine-shivering chanteuse in the same leagues as Holly Cole, Nina Simone or Ute Lemper and this album is full of beautiful tragedy and romantic desolation - something I'm relating to right now. I love the song "Mushaboom", and her cover of Ron Sexsmith's "Secret Heart" is wonderful - perhaps even better than the original.
Also, I finally opened my copy of Jeen O'Brien's Can't Get It Out Of My Head which I bought at one of her shows a year ago. It's really good, but not as powerful as the old Lilith stuff from when we were kids. But i will definitely be buying her new one "Sixties" when I'm back in T-dot over X-mas.
On two other Canadian-music-related notes:
- The fantastic and talented Ronley Teper is going to be on her first European tour over the next few months. I'm going to try to catch her in France or the UK, and you should do that, too! Also, rumour has it she might be coming to Sweden if we can score her some gigs here.
- Jay and Esthero are on tour again through the US. THEY should come over to Europe so I can see them up here. Check http://www.nearlycivilized.com/ for updates on what's going on with her career.
- The RLB have their first post-me gig this Friday night at The Reverb in Toronto with their new bassist Marcus Walker. With mixed feelings, I wish them all the best with the gig and I hope they Rawk Out with the greatest of enthusiasm and acclaim! If you read this in time to make that gig, you should go!
Racing at Silverstone
I had one of the COOLEST days EVER last week. And yeah, I know I’m articulate enough to express that coolness in a more colourful, sophisticated way, but that would dilute the animated adolescent exclamatory effect of just how COOL it really was.
It was COOL in the way that days are cool for kids who get to experience new thrills or adventures for the first time. And for that day I felt like a kid on a high-powered adventure – all pumped-up with adrenaline and excitement, with the edges of my supercharged smile threatening to meet in a way that theoretically almost resulted in the top of my shiny head falling off!
Haven’t YOU ever wondered what would happen if you smiled so big that the edges met?
And while this particular adventure was never one I consciously desired, I am tremendously pleased to have had the opportunity… to drive a Lotus Elise around the main track at Silverstone with the pedal to the metal and the tires literally smoking!
Being behind the wheel of a performance racing car going 125 MPH on a formula one track was nothing short of breathtaking. I’m not even embarrassed to say I was giggling like an eight-year-old boy high on sugar while I was driving, saying things like “whoah!” and “wow!” and “yeah!” and, of course “COOOOOL!” as I whipped around the track in the middle of fifth gear (the instructor wouldn’t let me use sixth and, frankly, I don’t blame him).
I’ve never been a car guy. I mean, sure I can appreciate a nice car and understand the mechanics that make them run, but I don’t roll out car stats, notice feature changes over the years or ever look forward to new models. I bitch about the traffic and noise from Toronto’s Molson Indy every summer, and give people bewildered eye-rolling looks when they tell me they’re NASCAR, F1 or Rally car racing fans. I mean puh-lease, can’t they find something better to waste their adoration, time and money on?
Similarly, the car guys just don’t get me – particularly in Europe. They ask why I’ve never been to the big Toronto race, or travelled to the holy Mecca that is Montreal's Canadian Grand Prix every June. I tell them I just don’t care and they consider that effeminate or just another odd Canadianism.
I’ve passenged in some automotive beauties, and even coveted my posh former neighbours’ cars, but the only car I’ve ever really wanted has been a midnight blue BMW Z3 roadster – ever since I saw one during a bicycle ride through San Francisco in 1997 and promised myself that one day, when I had some money, I would treat myself to that sweet, sweet ride.
To be perfectly honest, I’ve enjoyed not having a car in Stockholm. For the most part, I walk everywhere I go and the subway or train systems are phenomenal whenever I need them. Cabs and car rentals are always options, and easily found.
I like walking to work and I like not wasting time in traffic, not breathing thick air full of chemicals and trace heavy metals, and not sweating in a dirty sea of single-commuter cars while thinking of the global implications of China’s burgeoning auto industry. Also, the amount of money I now save by not having to pay for parking tickets, speeding tickets, licenses, maintenance, insurance and gasoline is far less that what I will spend for the monthly excursions I have planned around Europe (look for an update with pics from Copenhagen after this weekend’s trip).
Other than during a very brief 30-hour stop-over in Toronto in September, I haven’t driven at all since June. And now that I no longer own a car at all – some kid named Mike bought my 1996 Mazda MX3 Precidia – the opportunities to drive are going to be few and far between.
Driving in England, where the wheel is on the wrong side of the car, where the gearbox is on the wrong side of the driver, and where you’re supposed to drive on the wrong side of the road (and need to remember that under pressure when a truck is barrelling straight at you on a single-lane dirt road in Northern Scotland and a screaming blue-eyed lass is backseat driving from where the driver is supposed to be sitting!) is not where I anticipated finding one of those opportunities.
I was initially ambivalent about this event. I even declined the invite when first offered. I had no idea... What is Silverstone? How exciting could it possibly be to drive a car in circles around some dumb English race track? And how much fun could it possibly be to drive a performance car with dyslexic motor controls – power-shifting with my left hand? That’s crazy talk! Besides, I thought, racing cars is about as booooooring as baseball and golf.
D’oh! I was such an ignorant fool!
The thing is that, while I find watching cars race around a track IS about as boring as watching baseball or golf, actually driving racing cars around a track is COOOOOL! What I mean by that is it’s awesome! :) Hmmm… perhaps some context would help...
I was in England for most of the week on business – and am actually writing this blog entry on an SAS flight 10,000 metres above the North Sea while returning to Stockholm. I had several meetings in London in respect to some cool new technology I’m doing due diligence on, and had two significant presentations to deliver in Buckinghamshire. All that stuff went well, though I won’t discuss it here.
At the end of two very long days, I was asked to attend an event at Silverstone where people were going to be discussing widget and hammer technology, and then driving a few cars in circles. I had a flight booked for the morning, and had already talked about enough widget and hammer technology to turn blue in the face, so I deferred to a colleague who was really very interested in driving cars in circles and more than capable of answering questions about widgets and hammers. The powers that be agreed with me, thinking that was a great idea, and misinterpreted it as a recommendation that both of us should go.
The event at Silverstone was great. We started with a nice English breakfast (by nice I mean that the toast didn’t come deep-fried and covered with an inch of butter, but that everything else was essentially a large plate of soggy cholesterol, gristle, oil and fat) and then an obligatory presentation about widget and hammer technology which, as always, captivated the audience. Widgets and hammers are pretty big these days.
Anyway, blah blah blah, we donned racing suits meant to make our separated groups look and feel like racing teams, but which I suspect likely weren’t flame-retardant –Underroos for grown-ups pretending to be Mario Andretti. The car guys, however, were very excited. For them, they were Superroos that might as well have included capes and either green rings or utility belts from Wayne Manor. As we walked down the hallway en masse, they started singing the Rocky theme and bouncing off walls. It was infectious and I joined in.
The first thing we did was meet the instructors who were going to show us the ropes (i.e. How Not To Die When Going Into a Corner at 210 Km/H). Mine was Matthew, a nice English bloke who kept calm and smiling throughout, which was admirable given my driving skill and innovative technique. Even after I spun out in a 720 when I braked into a curve at high speed and then locked-up the steering wheel trying to get out of it and ended up on some grass instead of in the wall, he was almost tranquil while directing me off the lawn and back onto the track. And when I power-shifted – in sequence - up to fifth to get my speed back, he politely asked me if I was having a good time, which I obviously was, as though that wasn’t glaringly obvious with my maniacal laughter and glee-glazed eyes.
I could lie and said I drove with the grace, finesse, subtlety and control of a champion. I could say that I was like Mario Andretti, Michael Schumacher or Paul Tracy (the only professional drivers I know by name), but the truth is I was more like a larger, clumsier, lummox-like version of Fred Flintstone in command of a fine performance-tuned automobile.
Frankly, I drove like I was mashing the control keys on a console video game with buttery hands. There were no subtleties. It was ugly, but terrible fun.
The rules, as explained by Matthew, were pretty simple:
- Always brake in a straight line; never in a curve.
- When you brake, brake hard. Then gear down before going into a curve.
- When in a curve, keep your eye on the apex and a slight, consistent amount of pressure on the gas to keep the car level (tail down). Continue through the curve until you pass its apex and then apply gas with a lead foot as though trying to escape earth’s gravity.
Despite the very clear guidelines, when I was actually driving all I was thinking was “WHEEEEE!” while remembering to shift gears with my left hand. :)
I had four ten-minute sessions in total, two with an Audi TT (to get used to the track and for Matthew to determine whether I put his life at risk) and then two with the Lotus Elise. There were also auxiliary sessions in other cars like a Land Rover (on a special course designed by Land Rover) and a Rally Car, but those paled in comparison to the Lotus Elise.
It was a beautiful, boisterous way to spend a workday in England. I definitely said thank you to the person who bent my arm to make me go.
As for whether or not I am now a car guy, well, to be honest, I would still have to say no … until the next time I’m at Silverstone for a driving experience with my boys.
Cheers y’all.
Jeffrey
PS – Silverstone Circuit Driving Experiences are available to all. Visit their website at silverstone-circuit.co.uk/drivingexperiences/ for more information.
