(Monday April 4, Winnipeg)
I now am in that dangerous 10-day-in zone of knowing the music enough to be pleasantly distracted by the less pertinent aspects of the show. The lighting for example – I was utterly blind to it for the first 5 nights while I was desperately recalling riffs and harmonies. I wasn’t even sure whether our travelling lighting person (Tyler, 20, the brunt of our jokes and trigger of our age-ist envy – he grew up playing video games with Justin Bieber for fuck’s sake!) was doing lights for my show until Calgary, when I spotted an incandescent purple stem sally up the back of the concert hall and bloom into a 40 foot flower all over the ceiling. At that moment I was in the middle of the 19th verse of my endless dream song and I had to shut my eyes for dear life so as to not completely lose the thread.
But what I wanted to talk about was Gary Craig, not an unpertinent aspect of the show at all, but the epicenter of that mysterious thing called FEEL. He da drummer. Last night, as my mind relaxed during “Mango” I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. I was dancing. It was uncontrollable. I’d stop and then notice three songs later that I was some sort of spirally thing was happening in my hips and wow I was actually doing that thing that Bruce does with his feet where he rocks back and forth toe-to-heel toe-to-heel, as if his rhythms were making me do it. But who was to blame? Bruce for sure – record sales prove it. But Gary too! He brings out the pussy in those guitar patterns.