When June Tyson took the stage at the Sun Ra concert in 1984. The concert was underway for about 15 minutes, slowly different members emerged and joined the improvisation which was pulsating and furious and musical. Seemed about 9 men playing various winds, a drum kit, an upright bass and an actual large dead tree log and then out of nowhere walked on this creature with make up on her cheeks as if they were her lips or eyes. Like a tiger she swooped the microphone into her hand and the band stopped on a dime as she sung “we travel the starship from planet to planet” and then the band played the same phrase in a free gesture accent for accent, imitating the language like some avant garde performances would do 30 years later at the music gallery.
.
My older brother Ronnie had a friend named Larry Goldstein and he had a serious demeanour. He knew Karate and I imagined he could chop through a pile of bricks with one hand. He would have been 14 and me 9. He came over one time in early 70s and had a copy of Abbey Road under his arm. I asked what it was and in the serious way he always spoke he said it was the Beatles last record. This was too amazing. The very last copy of what the Beatles had done was for some reason acquired by Larry Goldstein and was simultaneously here in my brother’s bedroom in Winnipeg. I felt so so so privileged and grateful that Ronnie knew Larry and hoped he might let me hear some of it one day.
.
Bruce Cockburn’s guitar work was so original to me. That he would make a bass line with his thumb and simultaneously solo was a head exploding phenomena and at the same time a lot of those solo guitar pieces had folk or blues foundations. It fit my mind perfectly. But then near the end of the concert he sung a song whose lyrics made no sense to me (dialogue with the devil, why don’t we celebrate). There was a vocal climax to the song, sung at the uppermost part of his range. Might be what for some people love of opera is about. It felt like a gamble, like he might not hit it, but did. A different purer register. He did it 2 or 3 times in a row. I was melted by him hitting that note. Seemed to my teenage mind everyone was equally freaked out and bonded together by a voice.
.
I asked Darwin Aitken who the photo was on his wall and he explained it was his teacher, David Saperton. He pointed at the guy in a tuxedo said he was a maestro. It was understood he also meant this was a great achievement in his chain smoking tiny Gerrard and Broadview house that a schmuck like him got to spend time with a golden artist like Saperton and then he added Saperton studied with Raphael Joseffy. He waited for me to acknowledge how amazing that was but I just listened to the clock slowly ticking. Who’s Joseffy? “Raphael Jossefy was a star student of Franz Liszt”. He added like solving a rubix cube. He was right, this was amazing. After that I treated the exercises he gave me moving 6ths and 3rds and his “hop” technique with reverence. I liked believing I was connected to Franz Liszt too.
.
Micah Lexier called me and said there was a woman playing the Arthur Street Gallery tonight – you shouldn’t miss it. I trusted Micah’s opinions he had shared some pretty amazing weird records earlier, maybe Throbbing Gristle and John Giorno. He was right, that night with an audience of 12 people, Laurie Anderson playing Let X=X on a violin with a cassette tape head being stroked by one bow that had 12 inches of music on it or alternating to a kodak carousel projector producing images onto a black wall that she illuminated by windshield wiping her bow in the air left me unable to speak for a couple hours and walking into walls. As close as I ever got to feeling like I saw the Beatles at the Cavern Club.