Author Archives: Sarah Kurchak

That Time Thrush Hermit Played An Entire Set Of Steve Miller Band Covers Turns 20 (And 13 Days)

up-thrushOn August 5, 1995, my mother, Jane Kurchak, and I dragged our asses down to the brand new Molson Canadian Amphitheatre in the pouring rain to attend Edgefest 3. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to me in my music-obsessed 13 years of life: The Monoxides, Change of Heart, The Killjoys, 13 Engines, treble charger, rusty, Super Friendz, Mystery Machine, and pretty much every other band I’d ever heard on the 102.1 The Edge’s Indie Hour, all on one bill. It was also, for some reason, billed as “Sloan’s last show,” even though they were playing in Buffalo the next night.

We expected many things from that day, including a blissful barrage of Canadian indie rock, some Sloan-related tears, and the blowing of all of my savings on an entire wardrobe of band-related merch. But what we didn’t expect was that Thrush Hermit would saunter onto the stage and play an entire set of arena rock-appropriate covers. An entire set of arena rock covers by the Steve Miller Band.

On August 5, 2015, I drank too much wine at an afternoon press conference, almost yelled at a Man From U.N.C.L.E. movie poster, and then called my mom. In this unique state, I told her that I wanted to do a “That Time Thrush Hermit Played A Whole Set of Steve Miller Band Covers Turns 20” story, and that I should interview her about it.

She agreed. And then I proceeded to interrupt half of her answers, because I was drunk on nostalgia, and unhealthy Armie Hammer issues. And wine.

My initial plan was to write up and post a story on the actual anniversary of the SMB set, but I soon realized that I was even less equipped to transcribe the conversation than I’d been equipped to have it. So I had a nap and watched six episodes of the original Man From U.N.C.L.E. instead.

Now that I’ve sobered up – at least physically and Hammer-ly, as the fuzzy hew of 1995-related nostalgia is probably a permanent condition for me at this point – I’ve finally managed to revisit our talk.

GreatestHits7478-400

Jane Kurchak: It was an introduction to new music, because you listen to the music of your era and often, especially as boomers, we kind of got stuck in that era. So you pulled me out of that and into this new music. But when I was young, the only way you had a record was if you were a huge deal, and then you had a record. So it was surprising to me that all of these smaller bands could have music out there. So then when we went there, I thought “Ok, so you’ve got your own record.” And then we go to this concert and you think “OK, it’s a big deal, you’ve got a record, and then all you do is play someone else’s music?” And I thought maybe I don’t understand the whole new concert thing. Why would you come there? And then I was like “I recognize that…” Which… how many songs do I really recognize except when you play them? And then “I really recognize that.” And it was like living my life over again.

Sarah Kurchak: Before then, I had no idea that you knew that many Steve Miller Band songs. Every song, you were like “Hey, I know that.”

I’m a little surprised now that you point it out, too. You know that I never, ever remember the name of songs.

That’s true. You probably couldn’t have named them at the time.

I always had the radio on in the car. Of course we didn’t have cassettes. Oh wait, we went through that 8 track stage. Remember, I started with AM radio. It was a big deal when we went to FM radio. So someone else was in control of what you listened to. So those were always on. You’re driving, it’s always in the background. I never, ever knew the names of songs.

Going into this, Thrush Hermit were very low on our list of concerns.

I think they were probably almost not a blip on my radar.

I remember thinking I wouldn’t hate it if they played “French Inhale” and I was frustrated that I didn’t get to hear it. But I think the thing that pissed me off more than anything was that we’d gone to the side stage to see The Monoxides. Was that the second stage or the third stage?

It was tiny and The Local Rabbits…

Yeah, we went too early and we saw The Local Rabbits.

That was the tiniest stage that I’ve ever seen at a concert.

It really was. It was so far in the bowels of Ontario Place, next to the water, and there was barely room for the bands on the stage. 

And that was the same stage that The Monoxides played on.

Yes. We went for The Monoxides but we were there too early so we did see Local Rabbits beforehand. And I think we only liked them because they made fun of Sloan on MuchEast. And I think one of their fathers was playing the drums at the time, so the whole parent/child thing was appealing to us, but I think their music was, like, meh. But then when we got back, that was when we realized that Change of Heart had changed set times.

Which is one of the main reasons we wanted to be there, was Change of Heart.

So it was the double fuck you of missing Change of Heart and Thrush Hermit were in their slot instead, playing these fucking songs from the seventies. 

That whole thing I didn’t get.

My initial review of the set, from a terrible personal site I made in 1999.

My initial review of the set, from a terrible personal site I made in 1999.

Years later, I started to appreciate where they were going with that, some sort of super ironic “We’re playing a stadium, we’re going to play stadium rock!” kind of thing. And it’s become a minor legend in Canadian music.

Really!

I’ve talked to other people since. It’s in Have Not Been The Same, the giant book about that era. Originally I wanted to pitch on oral history on it, but Aaron was like “It’s been done.” So I was like “Fine, I’ll talk to my mom about it.”

I remember sitting in the Amphitheatre in those chairs and it was… to be honest, I think you had to tell me that they were Steve Miller songs.

That was later, too. I had to read that in a review. Because at the time, I was just like “Ugh. Suck Hermit are playing another stupid song.”

Yeah. Suck Hermit. And how long after that did we…

It was years later. Honestly, it was probably a good three years. And it was Clayton Park that changed us. And then we were just huge Clayton Park nerds.

Oh, for sure. Because i thought “From The Back of the Film,” that was one of the best songs.

One of the most perfect songs I’ve ever heard. And remember we used to listen to Violent Dreams and sing along like we were Beavis and Butthead?

[In her best Butthead voice] duh duh duh duh duh

‘From the Back of the Film.” that was a really great song. You’re right. It’s perfect. And that’s when I forgave them.

Me too.

I don’t know if it was a case of me forgiving them. I just didn’t get it, I think. You have a platform, you have all of these people. Play your music, and you didn’t. You played other people’s stuff. From when I was young.

And the Steve Miller Band! Why them?

That’s so not the same profile that, if you were gonna do that, you think you would do…

I don’t know! You could have gone… a lot of those bands were influenced by KISS. I remember the Killjoys were huge KISS fans. I think that was why I started buying KISS albums. And they made up for that by also turning me on to Husker Du. But something really over the top spectacular like a whole KISS set maybe would have made more sense at the time? Steve Miller seems like an obscure choice for the point they were trying to make, maybe? Or maybe they were just super into Steve Miller and they were like “Hey! We’ve got this set! Steve Miller, bro!”

OK, but I just thought that maybe if you were doing a stand alone show, then you make one segment of it that and then you play your stuff, but when you go to those things, I go to hear. And you’re right, I didn’t go to hear Thrush Hermit.

That’s true. I can’t complain. I wanted to hear “French Inhale,” but other than that, I wouldn’t have given a shit either way. And when you look back at it, it was still better than the Zumpano set.

Oh.

Or Ma’s set.

Ugh. Yeah.

Or Sugar Ray’s set. It was above and beyond that fucking awful Sugar Ray set.

it was awful. You know what movie he’s in?

What?

Sharknado 3.

Everyone’s in Sharknado 3.

It’s…You can be absurd and have it be catchy and fun. And this is just so beyond that… like, really, David Hasselhoff? Really what’s-her-name? Bo Derek?

And Chris Jericho?

Oh really? I didn’t notice that, because I turned away. These sharks come out of these tornados and I don’t know how they’re taking the President to the safest place on Earth, but they open the door and the sharks are coming out of there. How did they get in there?

Maybe I’m trying to tie this together too hard, but maybe… Sharknado is how the mainstream handles irony. And as much as we think that maybe Thrush Hermit were doing something maybe too obscure, at least their irony was a lot more tolerable than, like, “Fuck yeah! Shark tornado!”

Yes. Yes. And I don’t know how often they did it.

It was a one time thing. They had this one official stadium show and decided to do stadium rock for it.

OK. I can appreciate it now. At the time, I thought “That’s dumb.” But I can appreciate it now.

We would have said a normal Thrush Hermit set was stupid, though, so I feel like our opinions don’t officially count. We loved them at Humble and Fred Fest in 1998, though.

If they’d come up and played their stuff, we would never have spoken of it again.

We would still talk about Edgefest 95, because I feel like that was a really pivotal moment for us.

So isn’t that interesting, isn’t it? 20 years later, we’re still talking about that event. Maybe it was absolute brilliance on their part.

As pissed off as we were at the time. We’re lifelong Thrush Hermit fans now. 

Before I move on from this, we should address one other thing: We saw the last show of a dearly departed Canadian band that night. Imagine what would have happened to Sloan if they’d stuck together.

[laughs] OK. Was that the first time I’d ever seen Sloan?

Yes. And it was supposed to be the last. I cried. I cried because they thought they were done.

Their last show. And now I’ve seen them how many times?

And I’ve seen them even more. I saw them a week ago!

That was a big deal. Sloan’s last show!

What ever happened to those kids?

I don’t know!

I hope they’re doing OK for themselves.

A lot of catchy tunes. I can’t believe they didn’t go anywhere.

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Tragically Hip’s Canada Day Show Proves Gord Downie Is The Nation’s Weird Uncle

Tragically Hip's Gord Downie

Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie

Somewhere between the burgeoning arena rock of 1991’s Road Apples and 1992’s Fully Completely and the emerging eccentricities of 1998’s Phantom Power, Gord Downie — and, by extension, the rest of his band The Tragically Hip — cemented their status as Canada’s most beloved weird uncles.

Like the uncle who slips you mixtapes of his favourite bands, The Hip have introduced the greater populace to all sorts of unplucked musical gems and artistic outliers through festivals like the band’s signature Another Roadside Attraction series and opening slots on cross country tours.

They’ve suggested that we check out semi-obscure works by Canadian literary giants, like Hugh MacLennan’s The Watch That Ends The Night, from which the song “Courage” has the final verse ripped wholesale. And, in return, we’ve fondly listened to their wacky stories about killer whales and catharsis, and sung along to their ballads about tragic painters and hockey players.

As such, seeing The Tragically Hip play on Canada Day at Burl’s Creek in Oro, Ontario was like spending the holiday with extended pop culture family. Although the band’s current outdoor concert forays lack the sweeping scope of Another Roadside Attraction’s ’90s heyday, both in size and artistic out-there-ness, they’re still an impressive mix of good old Canadian rock, American tokenism and hey-check-this-shit-out discoveries, and this edition was no exception.

This year’s up-and-comers were the Rural Alberta Advantage, whose giddy cover of “Canada Geese,” a song from Downie’s solo album Coke Machine Glow — complete with an appearance from Downie himself — provided one of the highlights of the day. And if the shirtless, tribal-tattooed youngster proudly clinging to his autographed RAA LP was any indication, the Hip have once again succeeded in bringing a promising, semi-underground indigenous act to the masses.

A young man with a Tragically Hip logo covering his bare back

A young man with a Tragically Hip logo covering his bare back

This year’s potential successors to the Can-Rock throne, The New Pornographers, were entertaining, but somewhat upstaged by what seemed like singer (and honorary Canadian) Neko Case’s slow decent into heatstroke-induced stage banter, which included dry jokes about the band’s punk rockness, and their war against the sun (“Fuck you, sun! We’re playing right in your face!”). 2012’s token Americans Death Cab for Cutie sounded like an unfortunate mix of Treble Charger’s less dynamic moments and Jimmy Fallon parodying indie rock, but some of the kids liked it, and the band provided a nice dinner and/or campsite break for the rest of the audience who had been on-site all weekend.

Satisfactorily sated, rested and smoked up, the crowd returned en masse for The Hip. Downie took to the stage with a message about music’s ability to unite people, and his fans’ behavior during the band’s two hour, career-spanning set certainly did a lot of to support his hypothesis.

The biggest temporary beer tattoo-sporting (and permanently beer-gutted) drunken hoser united with the most bookish and bespectacled hipster as they negotiated the polysyllabic and thematic gymnastics involved in singing along to “Poets” and “At the Hundredth Meridian.” Rockers and activists alike hoisted their lighters (one of the charms of small town concerts is that people still generally eschew the cell phone for the more traditional source of ballad-accompanying light) for the David Milgaard-inspired “Wheat Kings.” And everyone chuckled when Uncle Gord embarked on twisted monologues about his complicated relationship with his microphone stand (he seems to hate the stand, but sometimes feels like the mic itself is the only one listening to him) and warned “Wheat Kings ” guest singer Sarah Harmer about wearing an old hat of his (“I can’t let you do that! I got conjunctivitis from that hat at Ontario Place in 1983. It’s an eye thing.”).

The Tragically Hip's Gord Downie performs on Canada Day 2012.

The Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie performs on Canada Day 2012.

Objectively, it wasn’t the Tragically Hip’s greatest or most accomplished set ever. While drummer Johnny Fay, bassist Gord Sinclair and guitarists Rob Baker and Paul Langlois remain as solid as ever, Downie’s increasingly shouty vocals and erratic stage presence and the band’s musical divergences sometimes cross the line from interesting into ill-advised. But, at this point in their storied and varied career, The Hip have certainly earned the occasional divergence and they’ve moved far beyond the need for objectivity. The band have become part of the country’s creative mythology and seeing them perform has become an experience that transcends the occasional blown note or hint of boredom (we suspect that Downie is taking the piss when he sings “Blow at High Dough” these days).

Like any good family reunion, a big Tragically Hip festival is a reminder of all that our people are and can accomplish, from the embarrassing to the bizarre to the truly great and heartwarming. And as long as we have our favorite weird uncles in the Hip around to remind us, Canadians can stop and take a little pride in the strange balance of hoserism and intellectualism inherent in our national consciousness that could make a band like T   he Tragically Hip big enough to stage this kind of festival to begin with.

This story originally ran July 2, 2012 on Spinner.com.

The New Pornographers' Neko Case battles the sun

The New Pornographers’ Neko Case battles the sun

Death Cab For Cutie

Death Cab For Cutie

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I Interviewed My Mom About Watching Game Of Thrones For The First Time

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Cersei’s walk of shame.

When I bought the third season of Game Of Thrones for Aaron, the teller asked me if I’d seen it yet.

“Sort of,” I shrugged. “My husband’s into it, so I get him to fill me in on the plot details, but I’m not super into it. This is for him.”

He asked me why I didn’t like it, and I paused for a moment.

“I don’t know, really… I guess I just have a really low tolerance for dragons?”

This is true. Outside of the occasional heavy metal song, Puff, and Piff, dragons have never really done it for me. And I’ve struggled to maintain interest in a lot of non-Dune fantasy stuff since my grade four obsession with Tolkien started to wane. I like Doctor Who just fine, but I came to that fandom via the original Queer As Folk. Game Of Thrones just isn’t my speed.

I come by this honestly enough. Outside of Buffy and the Star Trek universe, my mom’s more interested in cannibals and nerds than the fantastical. She hadn’t seen a single minute of Game Of Thrones… until Sunday night.

That was when Jane Kurchak woke up in the middle of SPOILER’s walk of bell-ringing shame and tried to make sense of what the fuck she was watching. She told me about what had happened the next day, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. So I finally asked her if I could interview her about it. She agreed. Now we all get to enjoy her wisdom on shame, use of rotten vegetables, and “that fucking chicken” from Family Guy.

(SPOILER ALERT: The season finales of Game Of Thrones and Silicon Valley. And every episode of Family Guy when the chicken shows up.)

Jane Kurchak, Mother of (low tolerance for) Dragons

Jane Kurchak, Mother of (low tolerance for) Dragons

First of all I want to set the scene. You were napping in front of a TV playing HBO on Sunday night. Why?

Because I needed to see the season finale of Silicon Valley and I have, on occasion, fallen asleep before the show started. So I set an alarm to go off at probably about five minutes to 10 p.m. so that I’d be awake and ready so I could catch my show at 10.

But you didn’t need to the alarm to wake up.

Absolutely not. It was one of those thing where… way off in the distance, you hear this bell. “Shame!” Ding. “Shame!” Ding. So, three hours later, I’m thinking “Ok! Shame! Ding! Shame!” I sat there and I watched this woman walk through all of these people and it kept going and going. And then you’re thinking, “How many camera changes? Did she just do this one big walk? Are they gonna switch cameras?” And then it was “Ok, they could put a lot into this scene because they didn’t have to pay the writer because all they wrote was ‘Shame’.” And that bell. And then… of course, there’s your father who’s sitting in the other room reading a book, and he walked into the room, took a look at the TV, stepped out of the room. That was it. Didn’t say a word.

And you didn’t talk about it later, or anything?

We didn’t even mention it, no. Not at all. We have never discussed that moment.

I’m curious… I know that if I wake up to some sort of medium, there’s a moment where I’m not conscious yet and it sort of filters into my subconscious state. I remember, in grade four, I had a radio alarm, and before I woke up I had this whole song and dance dream to “Let’s Give Him Something To Talk About” going in my head because it had started playing on the radio. Was there a moment where you weren’t fully awake and were trying to process “SHAME. SHAME?”

(laughs) You’re right… it was way off the distance and it was the bell, first of all, because you could hear this clang clang, and that could drift into anybody’s dream. But I can tell you, I’ve never had a “SHAME” dream. But it was that. And then again. And then it got more… not so much the bell and the word “shame” but the repetitive nature of it and that’s where you wake up slowly and you keep going it’s like “Ok… Ok…” Then that’s what it was. So no, it didn’t become part of a dream… I guess I did assume it was a TV show, but typically in a TV show there is dialogue or music. There was just that.

Honestly, how long did that go? How long is that show on the air? Is that an hour show?

It’s an hour show.

Well then half an hour was that.

You probably slept through half of it, too.

Oh come on! Was it from the beginning?

Yeah, the whole hour was just “SHAME.” No, she also had to confess her shame, and then they lubed up her boobs and cut her hair off. 

Oh, I missed all that. Is that why the food wasn’t sticking to her boobs?

That’s probably it.

I thought, “They’re throwing food at her. That’s not very nice.” But then clearly there was some reason for this whole “SHAME.” I don’t know why the bell because the voice was shrill enough. But then I looked, and suddenly she has bloody bits and then I thought, “I didn’t even notice when they started throwing nasty stuff at her.” And then suddenly they show her feet. And I thought, “Oh, she’s clearly walking on the nasty stuff that they’ve thrown at her.”

You’ve put a lot of thought into this.

I’ve put way too much thought into it.

I think it’s a case where you’re waiting for a show like Silicon Valley like, “Oh my god, this show is so funny, I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen even though it totally stresses me out!” And then there’s this. And this is the show that everybody’s talking about. And I thought, “That’s it?”

I clearly… how many seasons has it had? I have clearly missed nothing.

That was actually my next question: What lasting impression did it have and would you watch the show again?

I don’t need to watch the show. I have… In five seasons, I saw probably 10 minutes of the show. That’s all I need. I’m done with Game Of Thrones. That’s it.

I supposed if I’d had the background and… no, still. I don’t think I have any kind of attention span problem, but I was struggling to stick with that show.

It was a gratuitous scene.

Is that what they do? Is that what that show is?

There’s a lot of that, yeah.

Because they piss everybody off. I don’t even know what it was, but there was some Red Wedding or whatever. Everybody lost their shit over that. “Oh my god! Jon Snow died!” I don’t even know who that is. But that’s all I’m hearing. Why aren’t people talking about the good shows like SILICON VALLEY? Holy shit, Richard’s not CEO anymore.

I don’t want to hear about Jon Snow, either. The emergency board meeting is way more devastating.

Oh my goodness, yes. Yes. Because there was all kinds of really good stuff leading up to that for two whole seasons. Good stuff. Not some bell-ringing bitch yelling “SHAME” while some crop-haired woman stumbles through miles and miles of sidewalk or whatever you called it back in the day. AND why were those people throwing away their vegetables?

Maybe they were rotten and so they weren’t of any use to the peasants?

Well, ok, but perhaps it could have gone to the animals, or they could have put it back into the soil so you’d have a healthier crop.

So that show is strictly built on shock?

There’s a lot of that. There are intricate plots, too, but I don’t know. It seems like there’s always some gratuitous bullshit.

Gratuitous and really, you need to know… OK, you know I like Family Guy. I know you’re not thrilled that your mother likes to watch Family Guy. I laugh at some of the jokes I probably shouldn’t be laughing at, but when that fucking chicken comes on and they spend the whole show fighting that chicken, then I have to turn the channel.

There’s a chicken?

Oh, you’ve never seen that?

No!

Ok, every once in a while this big chicken, like full-sized chicken, shows up and the chicken and Peter fight for the whole show. And it’s like “Oh! come on!” Every so often this chicken shows up and as soon as I see the chicken, I’m like, “I’m not watching this show.”

So the chicken is the SHAME walk.

Yes! Yes! The SHAME walk is the equivalent to the chicken fight in Family Guy. Yes! Absolutely right! That’s what it is.

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Elijah Wood Clarifies Jared Leto Feud: ‘No Animosity From My Perspective’

Elijah Wood and  Jared Leto

Elijah Wood and Jared Leto

One of music’s most mercurial figures, Jared Leto of 30 Seconds to Mars, is getting the documentary treatment as part of the 2012 Toronto International Film Festival.

In Artifact, the actor and rock star exposes his soul as his band faces off against their record label, Virgin/EMI, in a bitter court battle and also works on a follow-up to their album A Beautiful Lie.

Spinner’s uncertain whether we’ll be able to talk to the notoriously press-weary “Jordan Catalano” during the festival, but we did recently ask his fellow music-loving actor Elijah Wood about the pair’s much-publicized spat at the 2006 MTV U Woodie Awards. Basically, Wood, who just curated a vinyl rarities box set, once confessed to Blender Magazine that he wasn’t overly fond of the whole musician-turned-actor thing.

“I would never try to be like other actors and attempt to make [music] myself. I mean, have you heard 30 Seconds to Mars?… Fucking awful, man!” he was quoted as saying in their January/February 2003 issue. Leto didn’t take kindly to the comment and very publicly yelled and cursed at the Lord of the Rings actor at the MTV event. Although Wood dismissed the confrontation as “ridiculous” in a subsequent interview with Jane magazine, the bizarre event has developed a sort of mythic status among music geeks over the years, enough so that we felt the need to check in with Wood and see if there was any lingering hard feelings between the two actors.

“I have no idea,” Wood tells Spinner. “There’s certainly no animosity from my perspective. I think, honestly nothing really happened. I don’t think that there was anything to smooth over. Not like there was something or some sort of grudge that started that night. I don’t know. I’ve seen him at things and I’ve not, like, talked to him or anything.”

As minor as the actual situation was, though, he does regret making that original comment in retrospect.

“I think I partially made a mistake in saying that I didn’t like that band and that wasn’t really… I try to stay away from criticism just because if you can’t say anything nice, it’s not really good to say anything at all.”

These days Wood has a much more positive attitude toward anyone who wants to branch out and try different things.

“I think anybody should be able to do what they want to do creatively,” he says. “I think my thing was that it didn’t always yield the best results, but you can say that about pretty much anyone in one profession moving to a different profession. But I think that also, to a certain degree, that was narrow-minded of me as well, because I think that everybody should have the opportunity, without criticism, to jump into anything they want, if there’s something that they want to express themselves in.”

This story originally ran September 13, 2012 on Spinner.

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Marty Topps Taps OuT

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Last month, the Risky Fuel household stumbled upon an album called A Loving Tribute to TapouT, a collection of 10 magical and visionary tunes that celebrate the fight-inspired TapouT clothing brand without ever mentioning MMA whatsoever.

We immediately became obsessed.

After spending a solid week tapping out to hits like “TapouT Me Out,” “A Shirt For Me,” “TapouT 4 Friendship” and “TapouT in HeaveN,” we decided that it was time to learn more about Marty Topps, the musical comedian and the visionary behind the album.

Marty (also known as Isaac in non-comedy life) has been busy since releasing his loving tribute in September of 2013. His video “Beep Beep (Buy Me a Jeep),” in which Jeeps get the TapouT-esque Topps treatment, won the Laugh Sabbath Film Fest at North by Northeast last summer, and he just released a new album called LIVE! From the Rotary Club. He’s also performing at the 10th Anniversary of the Toronto Sketch Comedy Festival. But he was kind enough to revisit the past long enough to indulge us in our TapouT obsession.

I’m a longtime music writer and I’ve been writing about MMA for a few years now and your TapouT album spoke to me.

(laughs) Thank you. Are you an MMA fan?

Yeah. I used to train at Toronto BJJ and I got sucked in that way.

Oh! So you’ve been to, like, Beatdown Sports?

Oh, of course.

Oh my gosh. That’s where I bought my first TapouT gear. They didn’t seem to excited with me there because I brought, like, two buddies and we were just giggling. But it was great.

I think they’re pretty patient. I bought my first Muay Thai shorts there. I put them on backwards when I tried them on and they were like, “Oh, no. The tag goes on the front.”

I read in another interview, though, that you first discovered TapouT at Winners, not Beatdown.

I did. That’s right. We were just looking around at discount bins and we found it there.

Was it an epiphany for you?

I don’t know! I think we just heard the brand name a lot kicking around. To be honest, I’ve never seen a single MMA fight in my life, but they had energy drinks out and people were just wearing the shirts everywhere. And you’d see them at Beatdown Sports for, like, a hundred dollars for a shirt and you’d also see them for $15 at Winners.

It was my first go at musical comedy, so I just kind of picked it… I don’t know why. It seemed like a ridiculous thing. The goal was to see if I could do an entire album of songs about TapouT but never mention MMA and just mention how nice the shirt is. That was kind of the goal.

Why specifically TapouT? I’m assuming a lot of the other fight shirts were also in those discount bins. And I’ve always thought that Affliction is the most egregious of the fights shirts.

Yeah! I think I see TapouT about as much as I see Affliction. But something about the name TapouT, it’s got a lot of uses, but also I just thought it was so funny that their brand name is giving up. That’s what people wear on their shirts all the time. It was just fascinating to me. I was like, “Wow. I think I might love it for real.”

Headshot 3

So how did you end up at Beatdown, buying TapouT gear?

I’d been playing around with doing musical comedy a little bit. I used to do other kinds of comedy and then I decided… I had a gig coming up and I was like “maybe I’ll just try doing a full set of music.” And the only songs I’d written were just to email to my friends and they were all about TapouT. I just wanted to put on a good show, so I rented a keytar — I didn’t own a keytar at that point — I rented a keytar and went down to Beatdown Sports, spent a lot of money hoping that this would be good enough that I could do it again, but I had no idea at the time. We bought hats, we bought shorts, a shirt. At the time it was the most expensive outfit I owned.

It was just for a one-off to see how it went, but it ended up going really well. I didn’t have an album at that point, it was just, like, four or five songs and the response was crazy. I think I got five bookings on that first show to do more shows and then they all went from there. I was just like, “Ok! I’ll try to write an album! What is that like? How do you write music?”

So the TapouT investment was clearly worth it.

It really was. It got me to Montreal Sketch Fest. I won Best Newcomer this past year. I did it here at Toronto Sketch Fest last year and won Best Musical Sketch and I got invited to do some dates in the states. I got invited down to Philadelphia and New York, just because of the TapouT stuff.

At what point did you invest in your own keytar?

When the album came out. It was a gift to myself. I’d been renting it for a year and teaching myself how to play keys and write music, so every time I’d have a show I’d rent it and then I would keep it for an extra week to learn how music is made. But when the album came out, I just decided to buy it as a gift. I bought the one that I’d been renting.

Have you invested in any more TapouT gear?

Yeah. I’ve got a bunch more hats, a bunch more shirts, a ton of socks. I was at Factory Direct, this discount store in Toronto here, and they had so many TapouT ankle socks. Whenever I went out on the road with TapouT, I’d bring them and try to lose them all, and anybody who knew the lyrics got a pair of socks.

You have a good range of gear there, and TapouT makes a whole range of products, including home gym equipment and foam rollers. But your lyrics focus primarily on their t-shirts. Why is that?

That’s my favourite part. The shirt. That was the whole goal, just be as simple as possible. The joke is made in the very first song, and then that joke is made a million times over and over again.

But in so many creative ways.

Yeah. It’s getting harder and harder. But yeah.

Are you still writing TapouT songs now?

Not anymore. I just put a new album out last week that I’m really proud of called LIVE! From The Rotary Club. But I did put out a Christmas TapouT album this past Christmas. It’s eight original songs. I had two days off of work, I was sick at home, so I just banged out eight songs, but I didn’t think that was long enough for an album, so I took the original album and put sleigh bells on every track. So that’s something that exists. But yeah, I’m kind of moving on from the TapouT stuff these days with the new record. TapouT was mostly me learning how to do this stuff, like musical comedy and performing it and writing it, that kind of thing. Nothing was really developed.

My new record is a full concept album. It’s a live album essentially, recorded at the Rotary Club, where my wife has left me and I’ve offered her $100,000 — I did whatever I could to go get money — to just sit on stage and listen to all of these insane, ridiculous songs that are designed to try to get her back. And it doesn’t work. (laughs)

If TapouT commissioned you to make a signature Marty Topps t-shirt, what would the design be?

It would be a big picture of my face, with the TapouT logo, right across my face, and my eyes are peeking out over the logo. I’ve dreamed of this.

I used to try to email them, before the record or anything, I thought it would be funny to get a letter from them, so I used to try to email their marketing department and be like, “I wrote these jingles for you and I’ll give them to you for free” and then eventually the emails started bouncing back.

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