Ready to roll

Is it just me, or is it starting to feel a little bit like spring?

Maybe it's the fact that I'm leaving in five minutes for a two-weekend tour of Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto and Peterborough with my buddy Nathan Caswell. Maybe it's the fact that I had to spend $2200 to get my van road-worthy for the adventure. Maybe it's the fact that I'm out in the backyard, working on my many sheds again.

Or is it that my Summerfolk contract came in the mail? Or that Trevor Mills and I have nearly finished the new Mariposa website? Or that I'm putting the final touches on Katherine Wheatley's new site on Monday?

Is it that I've gotten the green light to shoot a documentary of Rodney Brown on board a freighter canoe on Lake Superior next summer? Or that the new studio version of Riding on the Railway arrived in my inbox this morning?

Or is it just a change in the blood, a shift in the tides, the faintest scent of springtime on the wind?

Whatever it is, I'm all over it. It's St. Paddy's Day and the highway is clear. There's a radio interview waiting in Ottawa this afternoon and an audience to regale tonight. I'm nervous distracted, and impatient, but I've got all twelve strings tuned up and sounding sweet. I'm ready to roll!

Brewing the Wine and the Song

The first thing I need to point out about Lunenburg is that it's one of my favourite places in the world. I've been going there since the summer of 1991, and it just gets better every time. The fact that UNESCO has named it a World Heritage Site has only added to its prestige, without destroying its charm. And the Folk Harbour Festival, while a little on the traditional site musically speaking, has always been a wonderful event for me. And so it was again.

To begin with, my accomodations were unbelievable: I literally slept on the floor of the dance hall on the upper floor of the awe-inspiring Opera House. The vibe of the building is so grand, and beautiful, that I felt like I was being filled with music as I stared up at the elaborate plaster ceiling 20 feet above me, listening to the "sounders" (the fog horns of navigational buoys) echo across Lunenburg Harbour.

But that's something you can only do once you've gone to bed... which never happened before 3 AM. Despite earnestly believing that a night's sleep is a great thing, I couldn't argue with the fact that late-night jam sessions with gifted and glowing musicians, in the company of some of the world's most welcoming citizens, are even better. So sleep was pretty rare that weekend, to say the least.

On the other hand, I didn't have to commute to work in the morning. In fact on my first day James Shaw, the producer whose studio occupies the second floor of the Opera House, actually brought me a Tim Horton's coffee while I was still prone. All I had to do was get up, carry the coffee 20 feet to my amp, and start rocking. Which I did for about three hours, in the world's greatest practice hall. And the best part was, I got to do that again for 2 more days!

Plus I walked around town putting up posters in local shops, and bent an ear to some of the great festival acts (Galitcha, J.P. Cormier, Rick Fines, Scott Parsons, the unbelievable Celtae... and too many others to name) and just generally enjoyed being in one of the world's most wonderful places.

And I had a pretty proud moment, too, long before I got on stage with the guys on the Monday night to record the new album. Aengus played my song, "When the Whistle Blows," to start his set on the main stage on the Saturday night. And while I know he plays it a lot, it was really something special to hear he and Trevor do it for 900 people, and to announce me as the writer to all of them. I truly felt as proud of that as I had felt about graduating from university.

Of course, getting some attention from the locals, from the festival musicians, and from the crowd -plus a review in the Halifax Daily News, as I found out while I was there- meant that all the marbles were on the line when it came time to do the record... but more on that later.

Farewell to Nova scotia

It's been twenty-four days since I last wrote in this diary. During that time I've driven to Nova Scotia and recorded an album. Need I say more?

Well, yes, I guess. But what a task! I've had one of those trips that almost has to be recounted in real-time for the full effect to sink in. Which means by the time I've uploaded this update, it may be 48 days since the last entry...Beginning with the essentials, Trevor Mills and I had a great drive East, sharing time at the wheel of Carla, the delightful and much-storied chariot of our old buddy Aengus Finnan.

We had some family and friend time in Fredericton and along the Fundy Shore of Nova Scotia. Highlights included cruising onto the Greenwood Airforce base with nary a raised eyebrow for a whirl on the waterslide; lowlights included pulling the mouse-shit infested insulation out of the ceiling of a cabin in the remote North Mountain woods.

And then Aengus showed up. The three of us did an animated, if decidedly odd performance at Fundy Folk, where I recorded Evergreen just a year ago. And then it was off to Lunenburg for a date with destiny, or perhaps density. The fog was dense, anyway. More about that momentarily.

What I did on Canada Day

True to my statement of spiritual purpose yesterday, I celebrated Canada Day the best way I knew how: by playing the tunes of some of the great musical heroes this country has produced.Actually, I started off a little more humbly, barbequing corn and tofu dogs and catching some UV rays with Trevor Mills, itinerant bass-man and soon-to-be sideman on my upcoming Lunenburg concert recording.

Naturally, we wound up jamming. Good thing I put all that work into re-configuring my deck, so we had a place to sit and strum in the hot noonday sun. We both hauled out new material and convened a temporary mutual admiration society for the occasion.

Eventually, we wandered down to Jimmie Simpson park on Queen Street, where Suzanne de Bussac was celebrating the day with her usual musical aplomb. She played my guitar on stage, due to a patriotic mishap: she broke the nut off her guitar trying to shove a Canadian flag through the strings. I showed up just in time to save her from a nervous breakdown, but not before nearly giving her one by losing track of time along the way. That's why I don't relax, it just gets hazzardous.I sat with Trevor on the grass and said howdy to the umpteen Riverdalians I've gotten to know through my long hours at the Oasis.

For the record, it has been a long time since I've sat on the grass and chilled out. I kept having mad urges to go and build something. They passed.Evening found me back at the Oasis, and I actually managed to do an entire set of Certified Canadian Classics, including Gordon Lightfoot, Niel Young, Leonard Cohen, Stompin' Tom and other old chessnuts from my busking days. I felt a little odd airing out material that I hadn't played, in some cases, for a decade, but to my surprise, my regular supporters seemed to find it sort of refreshing. And for my part, I had some mini-epiphanies, remembering in mid-song how much I had put into these interpretations over the years.

And I managed to rock my way through "Land of the Silver Birch." Yes, you CAN sound cool singing "boom-diddy-boom-boom." Try it, you'll love it.