Pro Bass Fishin'

As I slide into the passenger side of Kevin’s Passat in the parking lot of Finch station, I notice a foreign figure lounging out in the backseat looking way too cool to be part of this particular carpool. He looks like he is already the rock star the rest of us are still trying to become. The aviator lenses resting on his face are most definitely symbolic of his confidence and poise, and his relaxed-but-totally-don’t-fuck-with-me posture is akin to that of a cocaine kingpin who just snorted a rail right off a stripper’s bare back. I am almost star-struck, but then I realize that anyone sitting in the backseat of Kevin’s car in hopes of becoming Soul Plane’s bassist can’t be doing too well for themselves. After I greet Patrick (also in the backseat, beside Mr. Superstar) and Kevin, the stranger extends his hand:

“Hey, man. I’m Ed, nice to meet you.”

“Yo, what’s up man, I’m Yui. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Kevin here…”

“Yeah, he talks a lot of shit, doesn’t he?”

“Haha. Ha. No but seriously, we actually need you to be good.”

“Oh.”

I can’t even tell if he’s joking behind those sunglasses. I decide that if he tries to get smart with me, I’m going to point out in as descriptive a fashion as possible the striking resemblance between him and that guy from Hanson who got a sex change.

By the time we pull out of Finch station, the conversation puts the spotlight on Ed. He tells us about himself and his background: he just dropped out of the National Theatre School (Montreal, QC) to pursue an acting career that involves a camera, and his plan is to either work in Toronto for a while, or apply to Ryerson’s film program. Although he has yet to appear in anything major, most people would know him from some obscure film I forget the name of as well as some Pizza Pop commercial he did (I also forget how recently he did these, so be sure to ask him next time you have him over for dinner). He has been doing auditions for movies and TV series left and right, and his representation is working hard to get him more, and while it does so, he earns his living as a bar back at Philthy McNasty’s. Essentially, he’s the Canadian version of the hopeful actor/waiter-actress/waitress combination running so rampant in the upper-echelon neighbourhoods of L.A. these days, waiting for a huge break. Amen to that lifestyle, brother.

Before heading to Aaron’s for practice, Kevin detours back to his house to grab his guitar and to do his brother some kind of 5-second favour that was asked of him earlier in the day. As we wait in the car, we wonder aloud what the hell is taking Kevin so long:

Patrick: The guy’s probably hitting a bowl or something.
Ed: Or shitting.
Yui: Or masturbating.
Ed: Which one of those was the favour for his brother?

Sense of humour is definitely bonus points; unfunny people are just shitty and no one wants to make music with them. Upon arrival at the Mellet house, we head straight to the basement after all the formal introductions are made. Without wasting too much time, the five of us are soon running through the tracks of our summer set list, the one we finally have down for the tour (also the one I finished writing all the lyrics for, like, yesterday).

Times of urgency are right now. There’s always a distinct worry in such situations that the instrumentalist we’re trying to audition doesn’t like the music on the spot and chooses to not join. This would be very bad for us because we need the bassist who is playing in lieu of Patrick for the tour to know our material well enough by mid-June, less than a month and a half from now. In the unlikely event of such dissent on the part of the auditionee, we generally take one of two possible courses of action: 1) bring our hopes way back down and get to getting our search on all over again, or 2) punch him/her in the head until he/she agrees to be part of Soul Plane. Usually, it’s the latter, simply because it’s much easier.

I casually glance over at Ed after every one of my verses to check for a reaction, and at one point, in our run-through of “Impossible,” I catch a glimpse of him in his classic (as if I’ve known him for more than 3 hours by this time) “chill” pose from the waist-down, but from torso-up it looks like a team of paramedics are applying defibrillators to his chest in a desperate attempt to save his life. He is, without a doubt, into the music. This adequately relieves my main and most burdensome concern. For the first time since meeting Ed, I’m thinking it might work as long as the guy can actually play a bass guitar. He confirms, after hearing several songs, that “this shit is kick-ass.” Hopefully this isn’t him being an actor.

Let me make a side note here to say right now that Patrick is one of the most upstanding people I know (despite the fact that I’ve known him for just over 6 months). Most people leaving a band they enjoy being in as much as Patrick enjoys being part of Soul Plane would harbour feelings of jealousy and resentment towards the rest of the band, sometimes even if they know deep down that the change/separation/removal is necessary – either because of a business move to maximize the band’s collective potential or because of circumstances whereby a commitment to the band cannot possibly be made. But not Patrick – the guy not only sits and chills as he watches Ed take over the position that is rightfully his, but also goes out of his way to give Ed pointers to let him know how he usually plays certain parts of a song so that Ed could get into the groove of our music more quickly. It takes a big man to do that.

It’s not like Ed needs too much advice, though. With six years of bass-playing experience under his belt with local funk and punk bands, he is ready to go the minute Kevin drops the jam. He effortlessly rips it in half. Gideon smiles up at Ed as Aaron wraps it up with some heavy crashes and says: “Sick, man, I really liked that.” Gideon doesn’t like anything.

After more improvised playing, we decide to get down with Ed on a real Soul Plane track. We hit him with “Welcome to T-dot City” and “Soul Playin’,” and despite being completely new to the music, the boy handles his business proper. Once we finish up practice, it becomes clear that with a little help from Patrick (before he leaves for Europe) to fine-tune the details and specifics of a few of our songs, Ed could very well be the new guy we count on to be Aaron’s rhythmic counterpart in Soul Plane. He’s in, and so are we. Welcome to first class, homie.