On Freddie Mercury and the Empowerment of Indians (from India)

This entry is in two parts: 1. The Preface; and 2. The Point. If you're tight for time and just want The Point, by all means scroll down to "The Point," no offence will be taken. But for those with a bit more time wanting a 360 view on the thought process that ultimately leads to The Point, then by all means indulge in The Preface. Happy reading! 

"There's always someone, somewhere, with a big nose, who knows. And who trips you up and laughs then you fall."
- Morrissey

"Don't ask me why I play this music -- it's my culture, so naturally I use it."
- Will Calhoun

THE PREFACE:

We played a show once at The Drake in Toronto opening for a great up-and-coming band from France called Revolver. Everything about the night was a blast, especially when our amazing former drummer Andre Dey MacGyvered together a detached tailpipe of his car with a rope on the northeast corner of Queen and Bathurst which allowed us to get to soundcheck just in the nick of time.

Over pre-show dinner in Barrie the following night (oddly enough opening for Shortwave, where Paint's drummer Devin Jannetta came from after Andre sadly had to return to Saskatchewan), we stumbled upon a series of Tweets from someone who was in the audience at the Drake and spent the duration of our set on a rather venemous (and un-tagged) tirade of hate against us. The first irony (of many, in a non-Alanis way, I hope) is that The Drake Underground is a pretty poor reception zone, so he must have been upstairs the entire time not actually watching our set. But every element of our music, our set, and us personally seemed to bother this bloke, even when we came around after our set to greet members of the audience -- which is all fine and dandy, everyone is entitled to an opinion, and we're happy he hated us instead of being on-the-fence (love/hate is the only measure of success for a band as far as we're concerned).

Where I took issue was here: his self-proclaimed title in his Twitter bio was "rock 'n' roll Ph.D." -- now, granted he was wearing a sweater-vest to back up the claim but think about the audacity of that self-imposed distinction. Especially when we closed with a cover of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding?" which I introduced as "an Elvis Costello song." This offended Dr. Rock 'n' Roll so much that he Tweeted: "It's a Nick Lowe song for fuck's sakes!"

Actually, Dr. R'n'R.... whilst Nick Lowe did in fact write the song, he wrote it while playing in his band Brinsley Schwarz. So it's not an Elvis Costello song, nor a Nick Lowe song. It's a fucking Brinsley Schwarz song. You probably didn't consider that the singer of Paint has worked in record stores since he was a teenager and played in bands since he was 12.

Clearly the Dr.'s misled elitism has overlooked the finer elements of live music performance. If on the rare occasion that we include a cover in our set, what am I supposed to do on stage, Dr.? Go through the entire etymological history of a song to stroke my musical history wang and please some Pitchfork-reading jackass (as I jokingly did the next time we played the Drake and covered "Leavin' Here" -- saying, "This song was originally written by Motown trio Holland-Dozier-Holland and performed by Eddie Holland, then by The Birds -- but not the "Byrds" with a "Y," the "Birds" with an "I," the English R&B band that Ronnie Wood played in before he joined the Rolling Stones -- then by The Who, then Motorhead, then Pearl Jam... so, you can say this is a cover whoever suits your personal politics!"), or am I just gonna blurt out the shortest and most recognizable intro possible and break into the song -- because, you know, that's why people are there to see us...?

I would have been happy to have an in-depth and respectful conversation with Dr. Rock 'n' Roll after the show but surely his ears only hearing the inner workings of his sphincter.

The point (of The Preface) is, when it comes to music, even for a self-proclaimed "rock 'n' roll Ph.D.," there is always someone who knows more than you.

THE POINT:

With that Henry Rollins-esque sidebar out of the way, here is the actual point of this journal. As someone who does have a lot of useless rock 'n' roll knowledge floating around in his ether, but always acknowledgesthe never-ending abyss of the unknown and to-be-known, I had the audacity this past week to actually say, "How did I not know that?!?"...because it was a fact that, frankly, should have been one of the most significant that I've ever learned about life and music, which surely would have accelerated the path of my existence much earlier in life had I known it as a boy. But better now than never.

Freddie Mercury's parents were both Gujurati (from Gujarat, a state in the northeastern region of India, just south of Punjab, where my parents and entire genealogy hails from). Mercury was born in Zanzibar (now Tanzania) and lived in India until he was 17 years old. There's nothing white about him aside from his post-colonial education. Hell, he's more Brown than I am, as I was born and grew up between Vancouver and Toronto, Canada.

The kicker in all this is that my development into a singer/frontman has been a long and painstaking process, often tied up with issues of internal and external racism, growing up formatively in Kelowna, BC, where even the dirt is white. Then to Surrey, BC, where Brown kids shoot each other like it's going out of style while the police turn a blind eye. And then to the Downtown Eastside Vancouver, one of the only places in the world that white people are allowed to legitimately sing the blues -- just imagine what it's like if you aren't white!

Growing up that way, you'll get a crash course in the darker side of race relations from a young age. Getting kicked out of sports leagues for beating the crap out of white kids who called me a "Paki" over and over again, eventually finding a home amongst the outcast kids who listened to punk rock, but all the while still only seeing white men on TV in music videos. The American rock band Living Colour was a massive influence on me: they rocked harder, played better, looked better, wrote better songs, and sold more records than anyone out there. And they were all black! Not quite like me, but enough to make me want to pick up a guitar and join a band. But being a sideman of colour in a band was always more comforting than stepping in front of it. Because I still believed out front was no place for a Paki.

Eventually I started singing, but in awful funk/folk bands that I believed were "culturally appropriate" for a non-white singer, avoiding the rock 'n' roll that I loved so much, even though my education, grassroots awareness, and involvement in anti-racism efforts became severely acute as I became an adult. But I continued to be a sideman in multiple bands to avoid the racism I so openly fought against but had internalized so deep.

At last, at some point, I just said "Fuck this!" -- dropping the guitar and putting myself out front. I have Andre Dey to thank for this, fittingly enough, a black man, who saw what I was capable of doing without the anchor of an instrument hanging off me. And I never looked back. Though I still remained plagued by the underlying doubt of, "Will they ever take am Indian front man -- IN A UK-INFLUENCED ROCK 'N' ROLL BAND -- seriously?"

Putting aside the 400-year rape by the British of Indian culture, language, history, and geography (of course UK music is going to influence a Brown man)... let's look at the fact that the greatest rock 'n' roll frontman of all-time was Indian. Through and through. There was nothing white about Freddie Mercury. Not even the rock 'n' roll.

Now, I am in no way saying my talents are anywhere near Freddie Mercury's -- no one's are! But I'll be damned if I ever, ever think an Indian has no business fronting a rock 'n' roll band again. And anyone out there who's also Indian should feel exactly the same way.

Sat Sri Akaal,
Robb Johannes

Of Malcolm X and Men...

May 19 is Malcolm X Day. I can think of almost no one, alive or dead, known to me personally or not, who has had as far-reaching an influence over nearly every aspect of my life.

From a young age, Malcolm X's life and teachings shaped and guided my sense of identity, self-image, social awareness, activist responsibility, pride, and desire to continue to reframe and redefine oneself in ideal and practice through ongoing education and experience.

Malcolm X is truly one of the most fascinating and inspiring human beings to have ever graced us mere with mortals with his presence here on earth.

As-salumu alaykum, El-Hajj Malik El Shabazz (May 19, 1925 - February 21, 1965)

Down With The Blackleg, All Workers Unite

By default, when a labour dispute is on the table, I take the side of the worker until I am convinced otherwise. Maybe it's my humble upbringing, or my experiences in unionized versus non-unionized employment, or an "always on the side of the underdog (because I usually am one)" thing... And of course, lest we forget the union (pun intended) of music and activism, which is where keeners will notice the title of this post is a lyric from a Billy Bragg song.

At the eleventh hour, right as the "May 2-4" weekend, often known as the heaviest-drinking long weekend in Ontario, was about to begin, employees of the Liquor Control Board of Ontario (LCBO) opted not to strike. This fact is more an afterthought to the rest of this entry, which was dreamed up as action was looming, observing the seemingly static paradigm of media bias in labour disputes.

The slant of most, if not all, mainstream media in the pending LCBO strike, was exactly what it always is: pro-corporate and anti-labour. It portrays unionized employees as spoiled, lazy, and unreasonable. The characterization of union workers as "demanding" (versus their generous "offering" employers) shapes the general perception towards work amongst non-unionized employees; the narrative goes, "Everyone else's jobs suck so much that people who are unionized should just be grateful, shut up, and take it in the keester" -- but the difference is, unionized workers actually have the power to stand up against exploitation.

The pro-corporate bias in media is never all that surprising, as mainstream media is funded by, thrives upon, and benefits from, the precise anti-worker ethos that working people have been fighting against for centuries. As an institution of influence on belief, perception, and subsequently practice, media survives on a consumer base that feels powerless. An empowered populus with the ability to say "no," and ask "why?" is a threat to corporate culture and interest. But pitting worker against worker based on union and non-union stripes is the age-old strategy of divide and conquer. Thus, a union that protects and empowers workers with the means to fight for things that all workers deserve, is immediately demonized.

Applause to LCBO employees in using the May 2-4 weekend as a brilliant strategy in negotiation. And though despite the knee-jerk response of many in not realizing beer and wine stores would have remained open, it's nice to be able to spend the weekend drinking Tanqueray and tonic in the grass.

Cheers to you for that!

@YesYoureRacist: combatting racism in America, one Tweeter at a time

Whenever awful tragedies happen in America, there's always the bigger-picture questions of how America's anger response will take shape after the horror of the initial tragedy has passed. As was the case with the war and racial profiling response to 9/11, opportunities to come together and seek common ground often take the knee-jerk route to bringing greater divisions, often on lines of race, ethnicity, and culture. Sadly, but not surprisingly, before anyone knew anything about the identities of those responsible or the Boston Marathon bombing -- before the smoke had even cleared from the blast -- racist calls from the Twitosphere to blow out "R**heads" and "Sandni**ers" were sprouting up all across middle America.


Of course, faceless (or semi-faceless) social media like Twitter should not be taken as a gauge for any sort of scientific conclusions about public opinion, but the response to the racism is where optimism on American intelligence has earned a pleasant uplift.

There is a Twitter account called @YesYoureRacist, subtitled "a public service by @LoganJames," which I suspect was initially conceived as a semi-lighthearted means to publicly shame other Tweeters who abuse their free speech rights by posting racist remarks, particularly prefaced with "I'm not racist but...." You know, another instance of culture-jamming, and using contemporary media to humoursly satire bigotry, "out" its propagators, allow those enlightened amongst to a) have a reality check; and b) fight back.

However, a lot of respect to Mr. Smith for really stepping up to the occasion amidst the ongoing tragedies in Boston, Massechussets. He has taken it upon himself (with a growing army of supporters behind him) to monitor, retweet, and respond to several racist posts in an effort to expose racists in America but also to allow enlightened members of the community to debate, confront, and challenge their racist stances. It's a noble effort, and one that deserves attention and support.

Now, the reason I'm bringing this up is not to appeal to the cynics amongst us who will look at racist tweets, throw their hands up and say, "Fuck this, I've lost all faith in humanity." Because what is truly telling, hopeful, and a sign of progressive intelligence winning, is the way that racist tweeters are getting bodyslammed by enlightened, non-racist individuals in response to their ignorance. Some even to the point of shutting down their Twitter accounts (as in the case of @KatieGiorgio, whose public shaming was seemingly the first in this wave -- and don't bother to find her Twitter by the way because she closed it. Hallelujah!). For every one racist remark, there are dozens of anti-racist retractions. Do the math.

My favorite response was when one person said something about "Chechen sandni**ers," a retraction said, "Um, Chechens are white, hun." Education by inches.

As is usually the case, the passive Tweeting racists are like most bigots and conservatives: they talk a lot from behind the iron veils of their internet connections but are hating from afar, and are not out in the community making the real world a better place, thus rendering them effectively useless. Those who are actually making the world a better place are physically on the ground getting the job done.

So genuinely, cheers America for a faith-building exercise. Our thoughts and best wishes are with you in this time of trouble.

"Grow a Pair" or "Grow Up": can music do both?

A blog by Kitty Vincent called "Hey Kids, Grow a Pair: How Music Blogs Neutered Indie Rock," was put on my radar by an old friend from Vancouver today through the social networks.

It was a good read, proof that there are always exceptions to the rule, and the author herself acknowledges the irony of writing about it in blog form (as, well, I guess am I)....

I wholeheartedly agree with the community element; what makes rock scenes happen is when there are bands that support each other, go to each other's shows, and play in each other's bands, with no real "professional" goals; it's just about making great music and art with your peers. The industry is always, always playing catch-up to this. I've had real-life experiences of this both in Vancouver when I was there, and now in Toronto and its surrounding areas.

I've thought about this issue a lot lately, and talked to a lot of other musicians about it....

After Kurt Cobain died, a lot of people in the industry pretty much said, "We're not taking a risk with our money and livelihood anymore by investing into and dealing with people who are angry, emotional, sensitive, and potentially unstable again." Not the least of which, financially-speaking, may have had to do with the advent of downloading.

What they missed in the process, however, is that it is precisely those angry, alienated, real-life human beings are the ones who make the most genuine and kick-ass rock 'n' roll. And sometimes, like in Kurt's case, the commericalization of their art can result in things like, well, drugs, depression, and suicide....

Think back (or read back if you were born after 1987): after Kurt, what was considered "alternative"? It was dudes in press photos wearing touques and sunglasses, sitting in coffee shops eating scrambled eggs and toast, making music that was cleaner, safer, and more adult contemporary. Stuff that both you and your parents could listen to together. It wasn't that Black Flag record that pissed your dad off every time you put it on, that's for sure. It was, for many people, a conservative (financially and economically) response to what happened with Kurt, which simultaneously shut out a lot of the "rock," that has changed all of our lives in some way, from avenues that typically gave them a wider audience.

Moving, challenging, and genuine art (in the form of rock 'n' roll) is still out there. We tend to think we just have to dig a little harder to find it -- but chances are it's right in our backyards, our local record stores, and our local clubs. Hell, your friends may even be the ones making it.

Relish in that possibility!

So, tell us about this punk thing....

When you start your musical life as a punk, it becomes an inseparable part of your personal, political, and social identity until the day you die. From those arduous hair-dying days as an underage kid getting snuck into bars to play punk shows with grown-ass men much older than me, the classic punk of The Ramones, Sex Pistols, The Stooges, The New York Dolls, The Clash, Television, Richard Hell and The Voidoids, all rooted in an experimental Andy Warhol-inspired art project known as The Velvet Underground (and beautifully documented in the oral history Please Kill Me) shaped me in ways that life's traditional influencers did not. It was inevitable that something punk would come out again.

Of course, when side projects emerge, so do questions about the root band. Don't worry, Paint is fine. After a year-and-a-half of uncertainty and transience, Paint has actually become the most fully functional, healthy, and productive that it's been in a long time. In fact, I would probably say that Pantifesto has emerged because Paint has become so vibrant. I'm inspired to just be a musician and be creative again.

Pantifesto had its nucleus during a particularly grueling tour, where I came up with an idea for a screenplay/cult graphic novel about a band -- a punk band -- who runs into a comedy/horror adventure on the road. Partly inspired by the realities of touring life, and partly by the slapstick comedy that is (perhaps surprisingly) a big part of who I am. Naturally, the band in the film-to-be needed a soundtrack. So it was the perfect excuse to get a punk project going.

The names of the Pantifesto members are classically formuliac as most of our punk forefathers' personas were: each band member's first name is taken from the original Ramones lineup, and their last names derive from different styles of women's underwear. Part of this is rooted in the glam end of punk, but also a reflection of the rather unGLAMourous jobs that surely every musician has had to hold down while pursuing their passion. In my case, stock clerk at a women's underwear store (amongst many others).

Nothing was really spent on the Pantifesto record. The production is crap. The musicianship is crap. But that was clearly an aesthetic choice. So, in that mindset, it's being given away for free (or by kind donation if one is so inclined)... Get it here: http://pantifesto.bandcamp.com/

Much love.

Fun With Numbers

Over the past two years, I've been working on archiving and update all of our setlists for the Tour page on our website, and linking each set to its related photo album or video playlist.

On some level, it was strange to become a fan-geek of my own band during the process, which was enjoyable, frustrating, and rather emotional in the end. Many happy and bittersweet memories of wonderful shows and beautiful moments on stage that I had forgotten about were triggered by certain songs in specific setlists. And of course, some shows and moments I would hope to never revisit again. It's hard to keep it all in focus sometimes but it all exists somewhere in the subconscious.

On an even more geeky note, it's come to light that Paint has played 167 shows since April 4, 2007. Only 15 of those were in 2007/2008 combined, and only 16 in 2009. So mostly in the last three years, especially 2010-2011.

And the number of times we have played every song that's been in our repertoire:

138 - Strangers (Paint)
126 - End of the Reel (Paint)
106 - She Leaves (Paint)
86 - If The Walls Could Talk (Paint)
76 - Home (Paint)
75 - A Gentle Art (Paint)
74 - Girl in a Frame (Paint)
73 - Madonna (Paint)
68 - Can You Hear Me? (Paint)
67 - Let Go (Paint)
55 - Jenny and Maurice (Paint)
53 - In Disguise / Chemically-Inclined (Paint)
50 - Don't Blow Me Away (Paint)
49 - Vampires (Paint)
48 - Gastown / Out of Mind (Paint)
37 - Boomerang (Paint)
36 - After (Paint)
33 - (What's so Funny 'Bout) Peace, love, and Understanding? (Elvis Costello and the Attractions)
15 - An Evening to Myself (Paint)
13 - Kids (MGMT)
13 - Leavin' Here (The Who / Pearl Jam)
11 - Blitzkrieg Bop (The Ramones)
10 - Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen)
10 - Life (Paint)
9 - Stand By Me (Ben E. King)
9 - Slide Away (Oasis)
9 - Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me) (The Rolling Stones)
8 - In Your Arms Tonight (Paint)
7 - World Without a Mirror (Paint)
7 - Shattered Hearts (Paint)
7 - Better Man (Pearl Jam)
7 - I Won't Back Down (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
6 - Yellow (Coldplay)
6 - Bonfire of Vanities (Paint)
6 - Down (Pearl Jam)
5 - The Con Artist (Paint)
5 - My Empty Hands (Paint)
5 - Moral of the Story (Paint)
4 - Heroes (David Bowie)
4 - When She's Gone (Paint)
4 - Girlfriend in a Coma (The Smiths)
3 - Starman (David Bowie)
3 - I'm Afraid of Americans (David Bowie)
3 - Days (David Bowie)
3 - Rebel Rebel (David Bowie)
3 - Common People (Pulp)
3 - Anarchy in the UK (Sex Pistols)
3 - With or Without You (U2)
2 - Lost Together (Blue Rodeo)
2 - Lovers in a Dangerous Time (Bruce Cockburn)
2 - Young Americans (David Bowie)
2 - Slide (Goo Goo Dolls)
2 - King's Horses (Jet)
2 - Beds Are Burning (Midnight Oil)
2 - Don't Look Back in Anger (Oasis)
2 - The Grand Scheme (Paint)
2 - High and Dry (Radiohead)
2 - Manic Monday (The Bangles)
2 - Why Can't I Touch It? (The Buzzcocks)
2 - In Between Days (The Cure)
2 - Lovesong  (The Cure)
2 - Friday I'm in Love (The Cure)
2 - L.A. Woman (The Doors)
2 - Every Breath You Take (The Police)
2 - Free Fallin' (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
2 - We're Not Gonna Take It (Twisted Sister)
2 - Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses? (U2)
1 - Redemption Song (Bob Marley)
1 - You Will. You? Will. You? Will. (Bright Eyes)
1 - True Love Will Find You in the End (Daniel Johnston)
1 - Easy Silence (Dixie Chicks)
1 - Heartbeat (Take It Away) (Dum Dum Girls)
1 - Can't Help Falling in Love (Elvis Presley)
1 - Suspicious Minds (Elvis Presley)
1 - Iris (Goo Goo Dolls)
1 - Live in a Hiding Place (Idlewild)
1 - Walk on the Wild Side (Lou Reed)
1 - Like a Hurricane (Neil Young)
1 - Sugar Mountain (Neil Young)
1 - All Apologies (Nirvana)
1 - Talk Tonight (Oasis)
1 - Rivers (Paint)
1 - Curtain Call (Paint)
1 - Death Row (Paint)
1 - Dear John (Paint)
1 - Ant Hill (Paint)
1 - Waiting for Somebody (Paul Westerberg)
1 - Hail, Hail (Pearl Jam)
1 - Corduroy (Pearl Jam)
1 - Off He Goes (Pearl Jam)
1 - Fall On Me (R.E.M.)
1 - It's the End of the World As We Know It (R.E.M.)
1 - Orange Crush (R.E.M.)
1 - Breaking the Girl (Red Hot Chili Peppers)
1 - Jesse's Girl (Rick Springfield)
1 - Prison Bound (Social Distortion)
1 - Interstate Love Song (Stone Temple Pilots)
1 - Dear Prudence (The Beatles)
1 - London Calling (The Clash)
1 - Learning to Fly (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
1 - Where The Streets Have No Name (U2)
1 - All I Want is You (U2)
1 - Blister in the Sun (Violent Femmes)
1 - Say It Ain't So (Weezer)



That's 104 songs in total, though there's a core group of 18-20 that every show revolves around. That number will grow as the newest Paint songs come into the picture more. No real surprises with "Strangers" and "End of the Reel" topping the list. Of course some are a little off-weighted because they haven't been around as long.

A lot of the cover songs have been fragments, mostly things that I would improvise over the ending of "Home" with. That's where a lot of memories come from. Be it singing a Beatles or Doors tunes on the anniversary of John Lennon's death and Jim Morrison's birth; singing "Redemption Song" by Bob Marley in honour of our drummer's father passing away (Marley was his favourite artist); "Prison Bound" by Social Distortion as a celebration of the release of the West Memphis Three; and one of the most emotional was Daniel Johnston's "True Love Will Find You in the End" in light of losing some people very close to me in a short period of time.

Certain Paint songs, like the beautiful "After," sadly aren't represented well enough, because for a long time because it's quite challenging to play correctly live. Overall, the entire Can You Hear Me? record (still my personal favourite) suffers a bit in that regard; it's great now to have a lineup where everyone enjoys the entire catalogue. So, expect some of the old gems to make a comeback. Perhaps.

Honestly, I think we've played songs like "If The Walls Could Talk" and "She Leaves" more than enough. It's time for our newest songs to take their place.

This is officially the geekiest thing that's ever happened with Paint. And it probably won't ever happen again.

Enjoy! There's hours of entertainment there for many of you kind folks who have been with us over the years, and those who are new to us as well.

Show Me a Nicer Band....

I love The Cheap Speakers. And they probably love me too -- though as they are the real thing when it comes to rock 'n' roll, I doubt they would admit it in so many words publicly. Paint has had a long-standing allegiance with one of Toronto's sweetest and scrappiest indie rock bands. From having one as a roommate; to having another fill in on guitar with Paint numerous times at home and on the road; to spending time as their guest roadie; to hanging out at shows and each others' parties; I can confidently say you'd be hard pressed to find a group of gents and lady more class than Nat, Tim, and David. Their undying support of the Toronto music community is unmatched: they once came to four of our shows in a row when we played every week at C'est What? in February 2011 when we hadn't even met prior to the first show, and they still made it out to multiple other bands' gigs at the same time. Sometimes all in one night. On any given evening in Toronto, you can find at least one of The Cheap Speakers out at one of our beautiful city's many live music venues, front and centre, enjoying the show -- and of course, they pretty much know everyone at the bar. The Cheap Speakers are a genuinely kind-hearted bunch who are always legit, generous, and stand-up in a personal and business sense.

Yet at the same time, I would never mess with them. Because they're the closest thing I've seen to The Who in Toronto: four unique individuals, one no less charismatic than the next, who just absolutely rock on stage. Any of them could keep your attention both on stage with their sonic antics, and off stage with their bright personalities, unpredictable humour, insights, and striking good looks. There's no ambiguity about them: The Cheap Speakers are just straight up, a rock 'n' roll band (a sub-title we in Paint have always used for ourselves but may have to secede to The Cheap Speakers' prowess one of these days). Love The Cheap Speakers off stage and fear them on stage -- unless you're me of course, and you can get away with bear-hugging Tim between songs when he spontaneously hops on stage to sing backup with us.* But we're bromancers like that.

On March 2, 2013, The Cheap Speakers will release their new record Switches & Levers, at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto. And in the spirit of community, they have invited us to join the bill. All the more fitting since when we had our Toronto release party for our latest record, Where We Are Today, The Cheap Speakers were our first choice to join the festivities. And they did with gusto.

It's going to be one hell of a night. We're all extremely proud of our dear friends. And we're not afraid to admit it!

* Thanks to our friend Joe Mac for always capturing the action on stage.

Bowling for Twitter

I try my best to completely avoid social media in the wake of tragedies like the shootings Newtown, Connecticut. Too many knee-jerk responses of "I've lost all faith in humanity," or "People are fucked," or "Fuck that crazy fucker," or "Bring back the death penalty" (yes, even when the shooter killed himself) -- you know, all the usual emotional-irrational-response-venom that is so easy to post into the ether without consideration of the larger, more significant political and social dynamics at work. None of it really means anything, and it's nothing we haven't heard over and over again.

I don't know about you, but I was too fucking gutted by the news from Newtown to go anywhere near a computer or smartphone within minutes, or even hours, of the story breaking.

Of course, I am not denying the tragedy or excusing the shooting of 28 people, including Adam Lanza's suicide. It's heartbreaking beyond belief.

The fact that shootings like this keep happening in America, almost in a predictable manner, does bring into question the roots of many people's newfound "loss of faith in humanity," which is the purpose of this article. Indulge for a moment in some history...

• If you publicly spoke about the earth being round prior to the advent of science, you would have been slaughtered, legally, by the church/state;
• After 400 years of slavery ended with the Civil War of 1865, American politicians made the 13th Amendment to the American Constitution which craftily allowed slavery to continue "as punishment for crime," following which the American prison population became as high as 90% black within just 5 years, and is now entrenched in a spiral of private, for-profit prison industry;
• The Holocaust happened.
• Executives of the Ford Motor Company put the Ford Pinto on the market from 1971-1980 after a cost-benefit analysis that proved it would be cheaper to deal with any lawsuits pertaining to wrongful death than to recall a faulty, and fatal, fuel tank design;
• The Nestlé corporation sent employees posing as doctors to Africa to push the use of baby formula -- that needed to be mixed with clean water, which was not widely available. Yes, many babies died;
• The same day the Columbine shootings happened in America, NATO (under the hands of US President Bill Clinton) executed the largest single-day bombing in the Kosovo War; and
• Nearly 120,000 civilians were casualties of a war in Iraq from 2003-2011 that had no empirical reason to happen aside from George W. Bush's ideology.

If you apparently lost your faith in humanity over Newtown, then reading a history book at some point in your life would have made commit suicide years ago. But in reality, Newtown has only really confirmed a preexisting narrow and cynical worldview; which most often, ironically, comes from a place of privilege. Well, as Pulp would say, "Everybody hates a tourist."

All of the above historical atrocities were perpetuated, rationally, of sound mind, with cold calculation, by Presidents, lawyers, and CEOs; people whom everyday citizens look to for guidance and whose careers we are supposed to envy and strive for in our own lives. They are "sane" and clean cut. They have homes, families, bills, and social circles.

Mass-scale and calculated acts of violence -- calculated cowardly from behind the iron wall of an office hundreds, and thousands of miles away -- and the people who perpetuate them, for me, have always been, and always will be, a lot more scary than a sole gunman. This is not to say that the fear response is the same or to make little of lives lost in Newtown, Columbine, or anywhere else -- but this is more of an exploration of the response of people on social media with no personal connection to the actual events.

It's easy to target one "crazy" person we can more easily write off as different from us than look at a complicated system where truth is a jumbled, post-modern mess of "WTF?!?", where the killer could just as easily be any of us.

Shootings like this, while always tragic, are nothing new. They are by-products of a larger culture of violence, fear, and selfishness. They are by-products of alienation. Which, in 2012, despite our apparently acute "connectedness" via internet and social media, is greater than it's ever been.

If you want to publicly share your feelings about a tragedy, then why not have a town hall meeting? Enlist the help of grief counselors. Go for coffee with a friend. Because you would be a lot more than simply pissed off if you were medically traumatized by the event. And you wouldn't have the stature to post a "fuck humanity and crazy people" status update during commercial breaks of Glee.

Please post responsibly. The internet is an opportunity for community-building and constructive dialogue. Not a faceless dumping ground for unresolved emotions.

A picture is worth another four years...

Photo by Joe Mac (http://www.flickr.com/photos/thepaintsite/8170202349/sizes/l/in/set-72157631646006001/)

Where were you when it was confirmed that Barack Obama would be President of America for a second term? Well, I was right here. On stage. Where else?

My usual pre-show ritual for the night we played C'est What? on November 6, 2012 for the opening night of our weekly November residency was full of interruptions, check-ins with the computer behind the sound board, looking at my iPhone for news updates during warm ups and stretches, and having the odd side-conversation with friends, bandmates, and people at C'est What? about what was happening, and we hoped would (or would not) happen. My freshly-painted black nails were pretty much chipped away before we even walked on stage, and I took permanent markers to draw stars and stripes on my hands. It was fitting that this was happening at C'est What? because last year Paint and C'est What? fought against Rob Ford and the City of Toronto on anti-postering charges (and won in court) -- so our politics are clearly stated and shared with this venue.

I knew Obama was going to win; I had confidence in America's ability to move forward positively, and after spending lots of time in the United States over the years, I've come to recognize that for every mistake the world's most powerful nation has made, there are hordes of resistance and positive steps taken on a grassroots level that we don't see in much mainstream media outside of America. It makes me hopeful to know that regular Americans are right where we are looking from outside.

After our second song, we went into an instrumental into for "Strangers," during which time I asked that if good (or bad) news came during out set, to please let us know on stage. We would stop the show to celebrate and/or lament -- but either way, I was ready to bring either Doctor Jimmy or Mister Jim* to the stage depending on which way the results swayed. Both characters are loveable, just one is more pissed off than the other.

We're halfway into the second verse of "Boomerang," fittingly our loud, massive rock 'n' roll anthem that is the opening track from our new album, and one of the few songs I play guitar on. People start jumping up and down, phones in the air, swinging them at me to get my attention. Mouthing "Obama" at me. And just then, it's the moment where we pause to let Devin smoke a drum fill into the "Heeeeeyyyyy!!!" chorus -- and I just let it rip: "Ooooobbaaaammmaaaaaa!!!!!!" Hitting that power chord never felt so good.

After all these shows, and many still to come, it's moments like that that stand out, that you'll never forget as a performer, and that you're grateful you get to share with audiences -- who become part of the experience rather than observers of it.

And in all this, I can't believe (but I can) that Joe Mac was right there to capture the exact moment when it happened. It's the only time I would let such an unflattering shot of my face go on our official Flickr. I'm still a singer, remember.... #vanity

We now affectionately refer to "Boomerang" as "Obamarang."

Congratulations, America. You made your voices heard and you made us want to scream even louder to let you know you did the right thing.

* The Who, Quadrophenia.