"Rust" Is Actually His Last Name. How Cool Is That?

Miracles can happen through Craigslist.

We all knew that Patrick’s days with Soul Plane were numbered, Patrick included (see “Waste of Bass” blog – April 21, 2008). Patrick will be taking on the fierce, relentless opponent that is his academic workload come September of this year. He received his letter of admission to a program called “Systems Design” at the University of Waterloo (an hour away from Toronto) just over a month ago. If he doesn’t devote 110% of his time to his classes, his entire life will be ruined well before the first set of mid-terms that launch their assault in October. Soul Plane made moves immediately in the interest of damage control.

We thought we had a permanent bassist in Ed Kennington (see “Pro Bass Fishin’” blog – April 25, 2008). Too bad the guy’s an actor (look him up on imdb.com) before he is a bassist and has since reconsidered his Soul Plane membership upon the realization that many auditions for parts in movies are coming his way, and as a result he won’t be able to put a full-time commitment into Soul Plane. Since then, in desperate attempts to find a competent replacement for our roster, Soul Plane has resorted to stopping random people on the street and asking them if they play bass. Statistics show that 100% of people we asked were thoroughly disgusted by us.

But not Luke Rust.

After I answered an ad Luke had posted on Craigslist, we emailed back and forth for a bit and set out a date where Luke would come in and jam with Soul Plane. Luke showed up to practice with two bass guitars – none of which were the conventional 4-string bass guitars I was accustomed to seeing. He had a 5-string Warwick and a 6-string Douglas on him. Definitely cooler than the g-string thong I had on me. He introduced himself respectfully to everyone in the band, and we wasted no time in setting up the instruments in Aaron’s basement.

Once the boys were done setting up, I looked around at everyone and asked them what song they wanted to start with. Luke was the first to speak up: “Life is Beautiful, please.” We were floored – this guy had done his homework, which at once showed me that he had a sense of self-initiative and commitment. In fact, I can safely say that this was more commitment than any of us have ever shown to Soul Plane. By the middle of the chorus, Aaron was already nodding his head at me, signalling to me that this Luke kid was a keeper. We finished this little audition process off with another two, or three songs, and by then it was clear that Luke was our main man. Before we stepped outside for a smoke break, I spoke in private with both Kevin and Gideon individually and they were all for offering the position to Luke.

The best part about it is that Luke was all for offering himself to the position – after playing with us he told us he was loving the music and wanted to be a part of the band. Over the summer, Luke has to work around some tough service hours (he is currently a waiter at the new Boston Pizza at Woodbine Ave./Major Mackenzie Blvd. – go say “hi”), but from what he told us, he shouldn’t have a problem working in Soul Plane practices around that schedule. Over the school year, Luke will be at York, where he’s going into his third year as a criminology student, so he’ll be in the city for practices as well. As such, the localization of Soul Plane is finally complete (minus Mel who is going to be in her final year at the University of Western Ontario, but we’re all convinced that she’s secretly Wonder Woman and can be anywhere at any time as long as she gets 24 hours’ notice). It’s a God-damned relief, I’ll say that much.

We officially welcomed Luke to Soul Plane by taking him for a feast at a local Chinese restaurant called Tian Xin Place – the band’s primary feeding spot. Lemme tell you, the guy eats like a champ, too – he stayed neck-to-neck with me, and normally it takes two people to do that at any given restaurant. This was when we found out how well-versed he was with not just the bass guitar and its surrounding concepts, but also how familiar he was with the concept of music in general. While we waited for our food, Luke was conversing with Kevin and keeping up with him as they discussed jazz, rock, metal, and even classical music. They each listed off their favourite musicians of all-time and found that they had many in common. They chopped up, almost down to the quarter-note, several of the tunes they each had in their iPods; they used terms like “dynamic,” “phrasing,” “poly-rhythmic scales,” and “chromatic tones” in their dialogue and understood each other perfectly. They traded suggestions of what songs by which bands the other should hurry up and download. Gideon and I sat there picking at each others’ asscracks for the entire duration of this conversation, arguing about who was more hungry between the two of us. I don’t know why no one’s taken the initiative to have us put down yet.

Because our session with Luke went so well, we decided that it was time to start integrating him into the music and preparing for Patrick’s exit. It was thus also decided that the upcoming Toronto Night Market show could very well be Patrick’s last show with Soul Plane. Talk about a bittersweet night to come...

It’s been fun, Patrick, and you’re one talented son of a bitch on that bass. I almost wish you weren’t as academically inclined as you are; it would have been nice to not have had to go looking for a permanent replacement for you in the first place. Unfortunately, I can’t have everything my way. There is no doubt in my mind that you, my friend, are meant for something far greater than playing bass for a band whose emcee still misses the toilet bowl when he pees (and that’s only if he manages to take his pants off in time). We’re all going to miss the groove you brought to the Soul Plane table, homie, but life has to go on for us when you inevitably depart. Hopefully you, as the rest of us do, feel that we did your legacy justice by bringing someone of Luke’s calibre into the family to fill your shoes. No matter what, though, your name will always be remembered as a founding member of Soul Plane’s musical direction... thank you for your very significant contribution, and I, on behalf of Soul Plane, wish you the best possible future that you can carve for yourself. And if I know you as well as I think I do, you’re set for life.

What A Newsance

There is absolutely no entertainment value whatsoever in the forthcoming blog; it is purely informative:

For anyone who actually cares about what we’re doing, we now have a mailing list that all real, hardcore fans can subscribe to. This is where I, on behalf of Soul Plane, will be keeping all of you informed about any upcoming events and/or tour dates – hopefully with enough advance notice to actually get you guys to reach out and show us some love.

This is a great way to stay up on our latest... don’t miss out. See “Join The Soul Plane Mailing List!” section for details.

Furthermore, I’ve gone and organized all of Soul Plane’s current pictures into different albums. Hit up “Soul Plane At A Glance” to see the band in action – I just updated our public photo gallery with some shots Katherine took of us while we were playing at the Opera House on the 19^th of June. If you have any pictures of us from that show, Soul Plane would greatly appreciate your contribution to the photo album – please email fanmail@soulplanemusic.com and we’ll sort out a way to get them from you. Thanks!

On this note, Louis (photographer) has informed me that the pictures from the photoshoot we did with him several weeks back will be ready soon – this week. I’ll upload them the minute I get ‘em, in their own photo album, don’t you worry. Please send all subsequent marriage proposals directly to our manager Conor Stief – conorstief@soulplanemusic.com. We are prostitutes first, foremost, and above all else. Just don’t low-ball us.

Except me. You can low-ball me. I have low self-esteem.

Speaking of my balls, big things are swinging our way... check back as often as possible if you don’t want to be left off the joyride. Or else the ever-changing world of Soul Plane keeps on spinning without you.

Good night!

Hate It Or Love It The Underdog's On Top

Date: June 19^th, 2008
Venue: The Opera House
Series: Hotboxxx Records – The Underdogs Showcase

This Opera House gig was everything we had been working towards for the past month and a bit. We had taken painstakingly difficult measures to get a photoshoot done on time so as to get them in a press kit for label AnRs who were going to be in attendance. We had overcome the most epic of obstacles in getting two of our singles pressed on time, in the form of a demo pre-release that was going to be handed out with the press packages. We had almost resorted to sexual assault to get Conor’s business cards ready for distribution for the night, because the printing company he was originally going with reeked of incompetence. We had gone and took Bradford by storm by playing what was originally supposed to be a “practice gig” for the band to get comfortable with each other (so that we wouldn’t be playing our first gig as a band in front of industry executives). We had put our academic futures on the line for this show – Gideon and Patrick had exams the morning after the gig, and I had one the morning of – chances are that all three of us will be sleeping on a sidewalk somewhere in the very near future as a result of this gig. We had put ourselves into overdrive for the last month or so, promoting and getting a 150-people guestlist together for the organizers. We almost died because of this Opera House gig... but it would have been worth it if we did – we Incredible Hulked that shit.

It didn’t feel like we were going to come out on top at first, though... upon arrival to the venue at around 9 30pm, Dante (showcase promoter) came up to me and informed me that we would be playing closer to 11 30 – 11 45ish thanks to several bands on the bill showing up late – this would push our set back an hour and change. My gayness detector went off immediately. Who’s going to hang around for an extra hour on a Thursday night to watch a no-name band perform for 30 minutes? People have places to be. I had to remind myself out loud that at least the label guys were guaranteed to stay the whole night in order to restrain myself from playing “whack-a-mole” with my privates.

My worst fears were soon realized. I saw the venue becoming more and more vacant as time wore on. Conor came up to me on several occasions to ask me where the hell everybody was. Mel and Kevin kept feeding me the worst news ever – they were receiving texts and phone calls every ten minutes, riddled with apologies and sob stories from their friends saying that they had to bail out on the event. Also, because Aaron, Gideon and Patrick were in the middle of exams, most of their peer group was unavailable for support. Most of my guestlist made it out, thankfully, and most of those people managed to bring a group with them, but that hardly mattered. The meagre-ass crowd that hung around was visibly, slowly dwindling...

The only thing that put a smile on my face throughout this ordeal was Katherine’s t-shirt – it had a big Soul Plane logo on it that said “OFFICIAL BLOG READER” in big, sparkly letters. That shirt made my night – when she showed it to me she immediately became my favourite person there. I almost proposed to her on the spot for being such a hardcore fan (and I still might). But despite this little ray of sunshine, the bigger picture of the current situation was still very stressful – there were maybe 10 people on the floor as Soul Plane went backstage to prepare for the set. I mentally braced myself for the biggest shitcarnival ever.

As we got on stage I saw almost nobody in the audience. The boys took some time to set up, so I kept myself entertained by chatting with Kevin as he was plugging in, not really paying attention to anything else that was going on around me. As the sound guy was finishing up setting the levels of the different instruments against one another, I turned around, preparing to face a tiny audience. I was blown away: as the lights came on, I saw in front of me a floor filled up with people who had come to see us. I mean, the shit was packed with people screaming out my name loudly, Mel’s name louder, cheering for Soul Plane and rushing the stage. My spirits, along with my penis, were lifted immediately – I was ready to roll. Also, Mel has hot friends.

They jumped with us for “Welcome to T-dot City,” they vibed with us when “No Worries” dropped, they sang the chorus with Mel when “Impossible” kicked in, recognizing the song from our website. However, the hugest response bar none came when we played “Liquor on the Curb” – a number of our audience in attendance were friends of Dylan Ellis and Oliver Martin, two guys who were senselessly shot to death several days ago. The audience chanted out the lyrics to the soulful ballad louder than Mel was singing them – with a simple, quiet dedication to the shooting victims, Soul Plane established an emotional connection with the crowd beyond just our music. We gotta learn to write more songs that do this more often.

As for the crowd, they really didn’t want our set to end – by the time we had rounded our set off with “Life is Beautiful,” the audience was shouting in unison for an encore. Unfortunately, we couldn’t oblige due to time constraints, but for Soul Plane, there’s always next time.

There have to be next times, too, if we ever want to get anywhere with this music shit. The label reps were speaking to Conor after our show and gave him some feedback about us that we really should take seriously, like, right now – although we do sound good as a band, and although there is a good deal of potential in what they hear from us, they took one look at our band resume and dismissed us as a “university band,” meaning that we fart off during the school year and come together only in the summer to perform. In their eyes, this shows a lack of consistency – in order for any labels to consider signing talent, the band has to have, at the very least, 50 shows under their belts (we have about a dozen if we go ALL the way back to Paiken-era Soul Plane, or, before the Opera House, ONE with our present roster... sadly, I’m not joking) – clearly we need to get grinding. They won’t even begin looking at you until you can pack a venue like the Opera House by yourself – a following of the band needs to be developed. But that’s also why we have a manager, and as far as getting us shows goes, I’m confident Conor will handle that business as long as he’s armed with our demo and press kit. The rest should take care of itself with time.

Oh yeah, the best part about the gig:

I got this email in the afternoon when I got home:

www.chalet.com

Look ‘em up – their list of clientele includes acts such as Rush, the Barenaked Ladies, and Chantal Kreviazuk. And soon, Soul Plane.

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.

I want to thank all of you who came out and made the night the wonderful event it was. On behalf of Soul Plane, I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed watching it as much as we enjoyed playing it and emerging victorious with free recording time at one of the top recording studios in Canada. We’ll see you all again as soon as possible...

Soul Plane Stress Kit

The Soul Plane press package Louis Saturnino put together for the viewing pleasure of record label executives, music industry professionals, radio DJs, and other very important people has been uploaded. Hopefully the rest of you people of regular importance also have pleasure viewing it.

Double-click on the image displayed in the “Soul Plane Press Kit” section below to view the press kit. Then click on the magnifying glass at the top right corner of the new screen to actually read the writing on each page (if you haven’t already closed it by now).

Bradstock '08

Date: June 14^th, 2008
Venue: Some huge field of a backyard in Bradford
Series: Bradstock ‘08

It was Gideon’s idea to play a “practice gig” before getting on stage in front of music label reps at the Opera House on June 19^th (see “Upcoming Events” section) – it seemed like a good idea until he told me it was all the way up in Bradford, ON, for an annual outdoor music festival called “Bradstock.” Apparently, Gideon and Aaron have been going up every year for the last two years to play sets with Gideon’s dad, Brian (who is, by the way, an extremely skilled guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter – you can tell where Gideon gets it from). This year, the bassist they normally go up with bailed out on them, so Gideon decided to cut his losses by bringing Soul Plane up there to play so as to a) help him defend his reputation at Bradstock and b) get us familiar with the stage as a band so that we wouldn’t have to do so in front of a panel of judges who already hate everybody as it is.

When we drove by the front of the property that was hosting the event, I noticed several clues that informed me at once that we were in a small town. The cardboard decorations with “BRADSTOCK ‘08” scrawled on them, strewn all over the driveway; the row of port-o-potties perched perpendicular to the road extending all the way to the garage; the line-up of pickup trucks parked along the road; mosquitoes the size of AK-47 bullets; the distinct fragrance of horse shit... I couldn’t wait to hop out of Mel’s Rav4 to get as drunk as possible. And if I wasn’t driving the damn thing, I wouldn’t have.

Picture my reaction when I saw that “Bradstock” was actually just a gazebo that someone had chopped up to look like a stage set up facing the bigger portion of a huge backyard. Picture my reaction when my first glimpses of our crowd for the evening included lots of middle-aged White men and women and virtually nothing else. Picture my reaction when I realized that I was the only non-White guy there, as well as the only one wearing anything even resembling a collared shirt on (a loud-ass one, too). I had jeans, they had cargo shorts. I had dress shoes on, they were barefoot or rocking sandals. I had aviators, they had facial hair. I stood out like Mother Teresa in a police line-up.

Trying to take my cue from my own band members, I realized the only one who shared my sense of initial discomfort was Patrick, being a kid from the city himself. Aaron, Gideon, and Kevin had spent most of their childhood summers going to camp and/or camping, and embraced this natural, rural atmosphere immediately. Mel’s personality constitutes being super-friendly with everyone, so she had no problem adapting to this new environment whatsoever – within minutes of our arrival she had gone around and networked with 3-4 different groups of people who were just hanging around socializing. As Kevin and the kids left to go pitch the tent they were going to sleep in that night in the field adjacent to the one the stage was built on (they had asked if I wanted to stay overnight, and I had been equivocal before touching down here, but after surveying the scene I was 99% against staying over and for going home right after the show with Mel and Patrick who both had early-morning commitments on Sunday), Patrick and I hung out with Gideon’s girlfriend Remy and her friend Yael at a picnic table under a tree minding our own business. The more I drank, the friendlier I got with everyone. Pretty soon I wasn’t shunning everyone, and I even managed to talk to this girl who was also performing that night. I told her I was worried about the reception of our kind of music here. She assured me that they love all kinds of music here.

I took her word until I heard several bands play on the gazebo stage. Country music, old blues tunes, classic rock covers, the random original track here and there that still fit comfortably into one of those genres... what the hell were these people going to think of us? I wondered this aloud everywhere I walked for a while before we went on, and somehow my concerns made their way to Aaron’s dad. Then Trevor Mellet gave me the best advice of the night: thank them for their music, let them know you fully appreciate what they’ve done here tonight, and then tell them that you’re going to show them what the new generation has learned from them... and then start playing.

I went over those words in my head until I was sure I could recite them better than the lyrics to the songs I was about to perform. Once we got on stage I regurgitated Trevor’s words into the mic. Because of how dark it was by then and how bright the stage lights were, I couldn’t see how many people cheered for us, but it suddenly sounded like we were at a Barack Obama rally. By the time we launched into “Welcome to T-Dot City,” the crowd was ours to keep. Some highlights from our set:

- I forgot to come back in for my second verse in “Welcome to T-Dot City.” Luckily, the boys and Mel were quick enough on their feet to make an extra chorus out of it and call it a day instead of making my slip-up obvious. Golf clap for Soul Plane.

- By our third song, “Impossible,” Gideon’s guitar literally broke. As sound tech (these guys did a phenomenal job all night) scrambled frantically to figure out what the source of the problem was, fiddling with switches and knobs, I tried to interact with the crowd to keep them entertained. And here’s where Mel stepped in to do something none of my female counterparts have ever been able to do: she followed up what I was saying to the crowd, addressing them and me, giving our act this “talk-show” ambience that the audience really got into and subsequently making very light of an otherwise ruinous situation. I love that girl.

- By “Liquor on the Curb,” the song after “Impossible” in our set, Gideon’s guitar problems still hadn’t been resolved. Gideon knew it was time to switch guitars – his was on the fritz for the night. As he picked up his dad’s guitar and started plugging all sorts of shit into amps, pedals, and PA systems, Kevin, Patrick, and Aaron started jamming one of our songs that wasn’t in the evening’s set list – “Through the Fire and Fame.” In fact, Mel hasn’t even learned it yet, so I didn’t put my own vocals on top of their jam. Nevertheless, the crowd loved it – we know this because of the roar that came our way that almost drowned out the instruments.

- As Soul Plane played the introduction of “Liquor on the Curb,” after I introduced the history and dedication behind the song, I asked for everybody’s lighters to come out. By the middle of my first verse, the crowd had lighters, cell phones, and glow-sticks out. It was almost bright out there... it looked like a candlelight vigil from the future. Marvellous.

- As we rounded off our set with “Life is Beautiful,” the crowd forced us by popular demand to stay on for another song – the boys let loose with “Funk Off”, another track no one really knows (Mel and myself included). I spit two verses worth of freestyle, thanked our loving audience graciously, announced our Opera House show, and called it a night.

As I stepped off the stage, I was immediately accosted by three kids all holding their respective parents’ hands. The parents greeted me warmly and said they loved our music, and that it’s rare these days to be able to find “that modern sound with such an uplifting message in it.” The kids were about 7-8 years old, going ballistic like they had met their favourite Ninja Turtle or something – “WHOA YOU GUYS WERE SO AWESOMMMME!” “THAT WAS SOO GOOD!” “CAN YOU GUYS AUTOGRAPH A PICTURE FOR ME?” As I said enough “thank yous” to make my head spin and passed off most of the credit to my band members as they walked by me, I tried making my way over to Mel only to see that she was being pulled into another group throwing compliments at her, so I left her alone. As I turned around, I had several guys closer to my own age tell me that this was the “greatest shit they’ve ever heard at this party.” Three of them were telling me about how they make music and how we should get down on a song together. I took 2 business cards and a demo CD that I have since misplaced. Another group of guys thought I was some kind of superstar – they were trying to get me drunk, they were trying to get me high, they were trying to get me laid. One of them was telling me that if I wanted to “get my dick wet with some bush pussy tonight” he could arrange for it instantly – needless to say, I declined my first male groupie politely. Nonetheless, at least 10-12 of these newfound fans promised to make the pilgrimage to Toronto to see us play at the Opera House on the 19^th of June.

I ultimately decided to stay the night in Bradford. After seeing Melanie and Patrick off, I headed back to the field to hang out with everyone around a huge campfire. We roasted marshmallows, we drank an assload of beer, we smoked out of the bong, we watched fat people sit down and just dilapidate the frail, plastic lawn-chairs that were provided. Several of our new fans sat with us around the fire and rolled (almost too many) joints of their weed for us to smoke. Let me say right away that I fully appreciate that respect. It was a grand ol’ time. Every now and then, into the wee hours of the morning, people of all ages would come up to us to compliment our music and ask us to come back next year. I actually remember Yael asking me after she heard a man pay me a huge compliment on our show: “So what does it feel like to have people say that kinda stuff to you?” I don’t think I answered that question properly then, and I don’t think I can now. I’m just fortunate to be working with the musicians that make up Soul Plane.

Even though I only managed to squeeze in three hours of sleep between 5am-8am in the driver’s seat of Kevin’s car (staying over was a last minute decision and I didn’t have a sleeping bag with me – the car seemed like a reasonable alternative to lying on gravel) it was all worth it. I got to see Brian (Gideon’s dad) play with his band, I got to laugh at fatties with Aaron and Yael, I got to talk to everyone who wanted to show us love – people were still talking about Soul Plane when we were cleaning up our tent in the morning.

Bradstock reminded me why this Soul Plane shit is a full-time job for me. Seeing people get so into our music made me realize that we could, if we kept working at it, make any given crowd of people feel the way I felt when I first heard Nas, Jay-Z, Biggie or Tupac rhyme. The music these hip hop legends made had a communicative depth to me; it reached out to me despite the fact that I didn’t share their cultural background. It appealed to me because they made their identities and mentalities known on record, and I could relate to it. I just hope our fans come away with the exact same feeling one day... Bradstock ’08 is obviously not the end-all-be-all – in fact, far from it, we got so many miles to go. The good news is that we’re in full-scale marathon shape, and that night in Bradford was certainly more than one step towards the finish line.

This Just In...

This just in: Soul Plane’s two new, final, and official radio singles:

1. Impossible
2. Life is Beautiful

So official that they will be the only two tracks, in this order, that go on the pre-release copies being distributed to all the label executives and industry professionals that will be attending the show on the 19^th of June at the Opera House (details in “Upcoming Events” section).

Don’t miss this.

Music Video

Louis called me one night several weeks ago to tell me that he wanted to shoot a music video for one of our singles – “Life is Beautiful.” He told me straight off the bat that this would be something he’d take very seriously, because it would be a project that he would end up using for his own company’s portfolio (Touch Productions), as well as one that he would try to get some broadcasting for using his father’s company’s connections (Saturnino Production Services Inc.).

Samples of Louis’ work on 35mm film can be seen here:

http://www.youtube.com/user/ScapeUwa

Once I saw these samples, I came to the same conclusion as you probably did: besides the two snowboarding videos where he’s clearly just having fun, Louis is a man who knows what to do when you put a video camera in his hands.

Realizing how serious Louis is taking Soul Plane (much more seriously than we’ve ever taken ourselves) Kevin and I sat down over a Vietnamese dinner to discuss this video. Armed with a handwritten copy of my lyrics to “Life is Beautiful,” we were strictly business: we got absolutely retarded and ordered like, 8 things off the menu. We threw concepts around a little bit here and there and went over the lyrics as we waited for the food to arrive, but once it did we just shovelled everything into our faces until nothing more would fit – we only chewed what couldn’t readily be inhaled. This is how shit gets done around my block.

At the end of dinner, as we were finishing off our drinks, Kevin went off his handle and started rattling off ideas that suddenly hit him concerning the video. After 10 minutes of hearing him list off ideas, I got sick of not being to follow anything he was saying because most of these ideas came out in jumbled-ass chunks – if George W. Bush had a stroke, this is what he would have sounded like. I told him to stop talking and to keep thinking, and that we should adjourn to his place to sit down and actually write this down. He agreed and we bounced, with him still going on and on about this vision he had. I was just hoping he’d remember all this by the time we get back to his house and that at least some of it was making sense to him, because nothing was happening for me.

By some work of God, the guy actually remembered everything he was spewing incoherently for the last 25 minutes. When we got back to his place we got right to work – he was talking, I was writing. In less than an hour’s time we had a cursory outline of a music video written out. The tough part was balancing what was available in our band budget with how professionally-done we needed this video to look – obviously we’re not shooting any $10 000-scenes from a helicopter or whatever. After going over Kevin’s idea scene-by-scene with Louis, it was decided that this was a perfectly do-able project and that Kev’s vision for this music video would not be hard at all to realize.

We are more than likely going with Kevin’s idea unless something better comes up between now and the beginning of July, which would be when Louis is slated to start filming this video. I don’t really care to go into too much detail about the plotline that Kevin hatched until then, not because it’s some kind of classified information (it’s the almost-random ramblings of a dude who watches too many movies), but more because it simply would not do the video justice. But trust me when i say that it fits the concept of “Life is Beautiful” like a glove. Plus, there is a 100% chance that no one gives a more than a shit about any kind of storyline until the video actually comes out. I sure as hell don’t, and I’m gonna be in it.

More importantly, I’ll be keeping everyone posted about this... this is pretty huge for Soul Plane if we can actually get some footage of us not looking like a bunch of idiots out there. But since that’s not ever possible unless Louis Saturnino is some kinda sorcerer, I’m just gonna sit here with my thumbs up my ass for the rest of my life. Or at least until we start shooting.

This music video could really work to our advantage if we manage to give it some kind of exposure. YouTube is a giant marketing tool in itself, and if we have a product that is actually worthy of being on it (unlike our sloppy-ass Toronto Night Market 2007 video), Soul Plane could market its music via a medium that we have previously never explored, not because we didn’t know about music videos, but more because we haven’t had the resources to get one shot. Now that Louis has joined the ever-expanding team Soul Plane, those days are behind us and starting right now, we are certified ready to roll. Let’s go win this Oscar, boys and girl.

Picture Day

Ever since Louis Saturnino signed on to become Soul Plane’s in-house cameraman, the band’s administrative department has been losing their shit. The last few days leading up to the photoshoot saw Conor, Louis, and myself running around like three crackheads all over Toronto scouting suitable shoot locations as well as purchasing articles of clothing to soup up/coordinate our wardrobe for the shoot. Our hurry wasn’t without justification, however; we had set picture day to be Saturday, June 7^th for two main reasons: 1) we have a show on June 19^th where we’re playing in front of industry professionals at the Opera House and we need the press kits we’ll be handing out to include these photos, and 2) leading up to this show after the tentative shoot date, the band will be able to actually get together and practice a total of maybe three times, which means that re-scheduling for a different day to shoot was completely out of the question.

As if all this wasn’t enough, we had picture day planned out down to a “T” : we would start early morning at a club downtown called Revival at around 10am to pretend that we’re playing to a crowd while Louis snaps away, and be at Neurotica, a vinyl record shop on Queen St. W by 12 30. We were then going to head over to Polson Pier (The Docks), take several shots around the Lakeshore Blvd area and then get to the Beaches to finish off there in time to get Patrick back to school for a show he was putting on by 6pm. We had also already mapped out what each band member would be wearing for each location. With a game plan set in stone like that, what could possibly go wrong?

Answer: Soul Plane is the fat kid that couldn’t run a lap in gym class without nearly expiring of an asthma attack, and Lady Luck is the captain of a perpetually-winning team who never picks us to play for her.

Conor calls me Friday night to tell me that Revival is no longer an option, that the guy who works the stage lights has a full time job and can’t accommodate us. Apparently, he’s the only one who knows what to do to get those lights going. This means we can’t even get pictures that make it look like we’re a band with any concert experience whatsoever. Them labels are gonna love us. Plans change immediately – we are now scheduled to meet at 10 30am at the Beaches, our new first location.

At about 11am, we get to the beaches. It is an absolute shitfestival in the parking lot – children are screaming, cars are honking, women are fainting, it’s hot, it’s humid, and the best part of it all is that there are no spaces anywhere. This is resolved immediately as Conor uses his managerial powers of negotiation (read: beg, plead, and offer blowjobs) in persuading the parking lot attendant to let us park illegally for an hour and a half to do a shoot (the reasoning that we aren’t here to swim and suntan for the whole day is good enough for him). Louis, however, has other ideas.

“Yo guy, this is really not the time or the place to shoot. The lighting is whack and there are too many people running around. We gotta come back at like, 4am tomorrow morning.”

This is ass-tastic.

We soldier on, though – there is no time to get pissed off. Next stop, Polson Pier – Louis decides he wants to get us in front of the Toronto skyline. Of course, the best shots involve us committing crimes; Louis positions us directly on a helicopter pad with the helicopter nowhere to be found. He gets Aaron to set up his drum kit right on the pad. The pilot of the chopper is gonna be real happy when he sees us prancing around like a bunch idiots where he’s supposed to be parking. We get maybe 10-15 decent shots after much time is spent trying to clean up our natural lack of visual coherence, right before the staff for the Docks’ Saturday night event come around to diplomatically remind us that this is private property, and could we please get the fuck out of here as fast as possible. We comply almost immediately, mainly because we’re happy to leave before they find a way to put us in jail for trespassing.

We then go to a dump near the pier to take more pictures. I can’t really elaborate on this without making us look like even bigger assholes than we do now. At least we feel at home.

By 2 30pm we’re at a record shop at Queen and Bathurst called Neurotica. This is the first time fate cooperates with us all day – Louis wants to get pictures of us digging through crates. Fortunately we receive the store owner’s blessing to proceed, and Louis makes quick work of this location. The band splits up by 3pm, to rejoin again by 3 30am Sunday morning – that’s if it doesn’t start raining. At 10pm Saturday night, theweathernetwork.ca gives us a 70% P.O.P. reading. This could be bad.

By 4am Sunday morning, we are on Lakeshore Blvd and thankfully, there’s no rain to ruin everything. Louis wants to take some pictures of the band posing on the street. With his back to oncoming traffic, he makes us responsible for warning him about any cars coming our way. Between each wave of cars, we manage to pose for several shots. Louis then decides to experiment with light refraction using his camera, and we are content to be his guinea pig – he tells us to just get on the street, jump around and flail our arms. I can’t decide who’s dumber – him for suggesting it or us for doing it. Turns out it’s us. I go from worrying about prison yesterday morning to worrying about death this morning – we only narrowly escape it several times in the span of the 10 minutes we spend playing chicken with automobiles for the sake of our press packages.

After a couple more shots at the Polson Pier of Soul Plane in front of a Toronto night skyline at around 4 45am, this time without event staff interference, Louis rushes us back to Woodbine Beach in time for sunrise at around 5 30-6am. We spend an hour and a half here taking a countless amount of shots with different backdrops. He’s got his work cut out for him – I know for a fact that by this time we look more like creatures out of a Resident Evil feature than members of a band trying to get somewhere in life – Photoshop most definitely needs to be in effect. We are barely responsive to Louis’ instructions. Louis, on the other hand, seems to be in tip top form at this hour. For real, you can’t even pay for this kind of dedication from any photographer, let alone one of Louis’ calibre and level of professionalism.

As we pack it in, it starts to rain – lightly, at first, but as we make our way back uptown, it pours mercilessly. I’m talkin’ Wild Water Kingdom. Whatever – misfortune might have won a few battles here and there, but Soul Plane still prevailed and rallied to bring it home victorious at the end of the day (or, in this case, at the start of the day). I can’t help but smile as I realize this. Actually, that’s a lie; smiling is a no-go right now... my livelihood is barely intact. It’s more of a light twitch, a pure reflex action at this point – we’ve been up for 24 hours trying to look alive for a camera lens. Gratitude requires energy that I currently cannot afford to expend. Depleted, defeated, but feeling damn good I fall into Kevin’s basement couch at 8am, not to be stirred from my slumber for the next 5 measly-ass hours. Then it’s back to business for Soul Plane. I love this shit.

Photos to come when our health is no longer at risk from over-exhaustion.

Top 10 Reasons To Come Out On June 19th

10. I just spent 3 hours learning how to use Adobe Photoshop in order to make the cheap-ass flyer displayed prominently above.

9. I just realized that any functional retard could have probably pulled that off in MS Paint. In a diabetic coma. And probably make it look much better. I hate my job.

8. The $15 dollars you’re spending to come see us, you would likely have wasted on drugs, alcohol, sex, or all three, depending on whether you’re going for quality or quantity.

7. What the hell else are you doing at 10 30pm on a Thursday night? Just show up already.

6. We need the labels that are going to be present and judging to think that we have fans, or at least some kind of minor following, even though we and almost everyone else knows much, much better.

5. Who am I kidding? Even I’m probably not gonna show up.

4. Show up or don’t call us when we blow up.

3. But do email Conor Stief (conorstief@soulplanemusic.com) if you want to book us for any gigs, even when we’re famous. Just be prepared to pay out the assholio.

2. Nobody takes anything I do or say seriously. I hate my job.

1. In all seriousness, we’ve been working really hard all winter for this very night. It’s been a journey and a half on this midnight train, and we would like you and all of yours to come help reap what we’ve put our blood, sweat and tears in to sow, to join us as we feast on the fruits of our labour. If you like what you hear on the site right now, then you’re going to have a blast at the show, and that statement has an official Soul Plane Seal of Approval on it... see you there, homie.

Peace!

The Rose That Grew From Concrete

It all happened so fast, I’m not quite sure if this blog is going to be accurate at all at recounting the details of the writing process of this new song. I’m not even quite sure that there was, in fact, a process to speak of. The bottom line is that Kevin wrote (if you can even call it that) a new song, just in time to round our set list off at ten songs, before the summer shows start (updates to come about this when I decide to care again). What’s even more impressive is that the man did it accidentally.

What I do remember is that it was during a time of absolute musical mayhem in the Mellet basement – everyone was playing everything except what they were supposed to play. As a result, the cacophony drowned my voice right out (despite the fact that I was hooked up to a PA-system), and any order I was hoping to establish along with it. Picture the scene: Ed’s sitting on his huge-ass bass amp playing a bass line that was definitely not Soul Plane music, Aaron’s trying get everyone to shut the hell up so that he can hear his metronome to tap Kevin in for the next song, Kevin’s not having any of anybody’s anything as he hammers away some random riff on his Stratocaster, and Gideon’s off somewhere picking his nose. Great. If Melanie were there it wouldn’t have been so bad, because then we would know that we’d have to focus to get her learning the new material, but as fate would have it, she was busy playing hostess at her own birthday party. I almost wanted to call the police.

The thing with Kevin is that once he plays something off his guitar that catches his ear, he doesn’t tend to forget it. This probably has to do with the fact that he’ll play the same riff for half an hour (he has, many a time, just so I could write the lyrics) almost mechanically until it’s permanently etched in his brain. And if it means he has to turn his guitar up over everyone else’s noise to hear the riff, that’s exactly what he’ll do. That’s exactly what he did. Suddenly, it caught my ear as well.

Yui: Whoa, Kev, what’s that?
Kevin: What, this? I’m just fucking around. Hold on.
Yui: ...
Kevin: Alright, essentially it’s ‘No Worries’... it’s the same chord progression, just flipped rhythmically into double-time with a few extra notes here and there.
Yui: Would people be able to guess right off the bat that we’re being repetitive because we’re shitty?
Kevin: They’ll be able to guess we’re shitty.
Yui: So we can’t use this?
Kevin: Well, give me a second. Maybe I can change the key.

As he moved his fingers up a couple frets, everyone else seemed to be snapping back to reality from their respective musical journeys, and Gideon pulled his index finger from his nostril. The riff itself was smooth, very laid back, very mellow. Aaron clocked it at 90bpm, the slowest of our songs yet. Back when Paiken was with us, we had a song in our repertoire called “Band on the Run.” The lyrics were as follows:

I'm tryin' to find the greatest escape, delayin'
My fate, 'fore they find a new way to trap us in crates
Packagin' us and shippin' us on the interstate
Highways, oh, be there in less than five days
Sometimes I sit back, relax, and just think
Pour a glass, put on the jazz, chill and sip my drink
Wonderin' what I'm runnin' from, and then it hits me
That in this symphony, I'm my own worst enemy
Just playin' on the timpanis, oh, hold the sympathy
A minute, b, um, aight, lemme put this simply
I'm, tryin' to do my thing and so I'm singin' like
You wanna ruffle my feathers, whatever, I'm wingin' life
So quit bringin' this strife into my family
They can't understand me, I'm not livin' a fantasy
This chance could be...my one shot to get to somethin'
So with all due respect, get the cheque, cuz I'm runnin'

HOOK
I'm runnin' on my feet and I'm not looking back
I'm runnin' to the beat, followin' these train tracks
I'm runnin' through the street, even with the odds stacked, up
Against me, I'm tellin' you, I'm not lookin' back (x2)

My lyrics are like murals, pure, pictures that I draw
Raw, writings on the wall, ignited with alcohol
Flames brighter than all the lights glowin' in the city
Of dreams, which seems impossible, since we never sleep
The screams and sirens, obstacles in our environments
Wired up in hospitals, blocks riddled, they firin'
And crime is at an all-time high, I'm tryin' to
Rise above it, up in buildings that's scrapin' the sky
As I, look to the heavens, I see my grandfather
A young man, panning for gold, I can't be bothered
My soul, is not for sale, you choke, when you inhale
The smoke, without this flow, I'd be dead or in jail
Seein' shorty ride in the 745
Tryin' to make the story live, never let the glory die
'Stead of spittin' corny rhymes, and whisperin' sweet nothings
In ya ear for you to hear, so yeah, I keep runnin'//

HOOK

Since Paiken left, and since we knew better than to play material that had him as a source, we had filed this song away for future use. By that I mean it stayed on my laptop and got mouldy until Kevin ran this track. I usually keep all my lyrics just in case someone comes up with something worth using them on, even if the riff I had initially written them for was scrapped; after all, I did spend what little time I spent on writing them and, if they’re even half-decent, why waste them? Good thing I brought this back, too, because as I rapped these lyrics over the riff that was now being played by the entire band, in sync with each other and on time, I realized immediately that the original version paled feverishly in comparison.

Conceptually, we also stepped it up a notch: for this version of “Band on the Run,” the boys decided they would end the whole thing with a 2-to-3-minute-jam that would involve lots of subtle chord and rhythmic changes, and just fade out from there. The purpose of this would be to bring out the notion that at least instrumentally, we went on a musical journey and we’re not coming back. After all, we are a band on the run... what did you expect?

Speaking of running things, Conor Stief is most definitely back in the building. After a series of meetings that essentially set out Soul Plane’s game plan for the summer (more on that to come in the very near future) as far as shows and getting exposure goes, we’re all clear on what our individual roles and responsibilities are towards this cause. Now it’s all about the execution like China.

Next up: ...from the ashes we rise like a phoenix (but not until June 19^th, which is when we kick off Soul Plane’s first show of maybe too many this summer. It is imperative that you join us – see “Upcoming Events” section for details).