Category Archives: War

the categories

and the Juno for venue that most often convinces bands that $100 is fair when they made 20 times that after expenses goes to…

and the Juno for greatest solo done while high on drugs that could kill a rhinoceros goes to….

and the Juno for manager who intimidates most people in the business and get’s highest percentage of the artist’s gross goes to…..

and the Juno for journalist least familiar with their interview subject goes to….

and the Juno for best film score that sounds like another Phillip Glass imitation goes to…

and the juno for band member who drove safest back home after a gig goes to…

and the Juno for best  ancient publicist with a British accent who breaks the ice telling sexist jokes goes to…

and the Juno for artist who did best job of avoiding all political opinions until it was obvious which way the wind was blowing and then got really vocal about it goes to…

and the juno for most imaginative drum solo done wearing a bowler cap and unclothed while simultaneously singing operatically goes to – waitasec there’s only one candidate. Congratulations! 25 years in a row. Great Bob Scott.


Earlier this year Meadowlark Lemon died. He was the main man in the Harlem Globetrotters. They came to Winnipeg when I was nine, about as amazing as getting candy for going to school. What a class act.

Nobody told us that the Harlem Globetrotters had other pretend teams to maximize their touring income. So here they were in Winnipeg and we all knew from serious Saturday morning TV that the main characters in this performance were Meadowlark and Curly …so after the show I had the good luck to see the main guy from the game walking into the dressing room and I had my instamatic camera (with 110 film and a quad flashbulb) I yelled “Hey Meadowlark!” and took his picture.


The picture that developed showed a man looking at the camera with a shocked expression. I didn’t understand, I just yelled his name but now I know that wasn’t his name. Years passed, I wondered if he took it as a racist yell by this little fool. Hope not. Hope I got it wrong, sometimes childhood impressions aren’t necessarily correct.

In the 1992 Eugene Chadbourne invited me to be part of a band performing in Germany. Amazing moment not least was that the other members included  Jimmy Carl Black of the Mothers of Invention plus Ian Underwood, Brian Ritchie of the Violent Femmes and Jonathan Segall of Camper Van Beethoven. 136440-a

But super cool was hanging with Ashwin Batish who had a cult record on college radio called sitar power and who’s father was one of George Harrison’s sitar teachers in the 60s. When the tour ended I was waiting with Ashwin at the airport in Dusseldorf  to board our flights home. I asked him if he had any George stories.

President Gerald Ford smiles as he talks with George Harrison, second from left, at the White House in Washington, Dec. 13, 1974. Jack Ford, 22, the president's son, second from right, invited Harrison to the White House for lunch. With them are keyboardist Billy Preston, far left, and sitar player Ravi Shankar, right. (AP Photo/Charles Bennett)

He told me George used to call often to talk with his father and sometimes when his father wasn’t home his brother would pretend to be the father and give George sitar misdirections and little Ashwin on another receiver tried not to be heard giggling. This sounded too hilarious but a few years later it occurred to me George Harrison probably knew he was talking with kids, probably heard the giggles and maybe enjoyed being playful.

Always A Fighter

>June Mitchell via 

>I just heard Giulietta masina at the oscars crying. Sounding great.
>Are you working on any new songs?
>I thought you might be interested in SoundBetter.
>It’s a site with professional Pop producers, mixing engineers and singers for hire.
>Let me know what you think!

>easy unsubscribe


Hi June.

Thanks for the awesome tip. I am working on a new song, thanks. This one isn’t yet finished.

Let me know what you think!



Here at the factory of spam

Sometimes I sign as female sometimes I’m a man

Some compare me to a cancerous weed

Hope this month my next quota will succeed

It doesn’t hurt when they compare me to bacteria

Glad I witched from being a prince from Nigeria

One of these years I might leave this cubicle

Buy myself an ice cream truck and write musicals

Would like to retire as a Broadway star

Buy a new condo and a little sports car

I’ll pen my memoir “Always A Fighter”

After I find an appropriate ghost writer