The Weakerthans came into my life with their 2000 release, Left and Leaving. The nasally vocals and catchy pop melodies stuck in my head immediately, but it wasn't until I listened to the poetic prose that John K. Samson (vocals/guitar) composed, that I fully appreciated the band.

Eight years later, I found myself preparing to interview the lyrically acclaimed Samson for an article in the March issue of REAX to preview their April Florida shows.

While I consider myself to be a pretty outgoing person, I get nervous every time I interview someone. The nerves range from "the slightly too much caffeine" jitters to "the whole box of No Doze" shakes. Did I mention I can be slightly dramatic? I've never actually ingested an entire box of No Doze, so I couldn't attest to that high, but let's just say that the adrenaline flows freely. I think Samson equated to the "I haven't eaten all day" fidgets.

Before my research begins, contacting the publicist is a feat in itself. This time, The Weakerthans' Anti- (Epitaph) publicist was communicative, helpful and expedited the interview process. Believe me, this is not always the case.

Once I knew the interview would take place, I spent some time preparing. Wikipedia always serves its purpose, while the band's website provides an up to date resource for the band's happenings (most of the time). Reading past articles gives a glimpse into different aspects of the band, but sometimes can influence the direction the article takes. For any ounce of originality, I try to avoid this. Research and question preparation began.

Next, the interview was scheduled with the Winnipeg resident, and even though I knew my transient lifestyle would put me on the road at this time, I made the commitment. The day of the interview, the questions floated around in my mind. I even found myself introducing myself to myself. Yeah, take that sentence in. Let me give you an example.

As I drove one of the many Orlando toll roads, I said "Hi John. This is MacKenzie with reAx, rEax Magazine."

Ok, I am teased about which syllable I annunciate. So I may talk to myself, let's call it practicing interviewing. That sounds a little better.

I pulled over to the first parking lot I saw as the interview appointment time approached. There I was, in the corporate nightmare that I hate more than Jimmy Buffet: Wal-Mart.

While sale hungry Americans herded in to fill their carts with items made in China, I pulled my laptop out and prayed for no complications since I forgot to print my questions. What can I say....lack of short term memory.

With everything ready, I waited for the clock to hit 1 p.m. and dialed Samson's number. As the phone rang in my ear, my breath deepened and I swear I could hear my heart rate rise. Ring. Ring. Ring. Nothing. Ring. Then....voicemail.

All that anticipation for voicemail seemed equivalent to "blowing my load," even though I wouldn't exactly know what that's like. Settle down fellas, it just seemed like a comparable phrase to relate to the buildup, then fast and furious letdown. I left my message and waited, watching the clock as each minute passed.

Ten minutes later, I decided to start driving home. As soon as I exited the parking lot, the former Propagandhi member rings me back.

"Fucking figures," I mumbled to myself. Yes, I said it out loud.

I pulled back around to Wally World, as the call was missed. My voicemail beeps and the phone tag began. With a quickness, my laptop woke up, while I called again. This time I got Samson on the line, and many "sorries" ensued from each of us for missing the other.

We bullshitted about the weather, which just so happened to be minus 40 for our northern neighbors. Some jokes were made about a mockumentary on their website, and after a few laughs, my blood pressure returned to normal and my nerves calmed.

Before I knew it, we were chatting about the wisdom and experience we've both gained since our punk rock days. 

His voice was calm and welcoming, even though I was probably the tenth phone interview he'd done that day. A friendly voice sets the tone for the interview to follow, and Samson eased any phone phobias I may harbor.

We shot the shit a little more about how I look forward to meeting him at one of the Florida shows.

"I'll definitely be at the Tampa show, if not all the Florida shows," I said.

"Yeah, definitely come say hello for sure," he replied.

Uh, yeah, well that would be great and all, BUT they aren't playing Tampa. Hey, nobody's perfect.

www.theweakerthans.org

Look for the article in March's issue of REAX. Catch the band at the following (sorry Tampa) Florida  dates:

April 04 Fri: Tallahassee, FL - Club Downunder
April 05 Sat: Orlando, FL - the Social
April 06 Sun: Gainesville, FL - Common Grounds  

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2008 means new beginnings and new blogs. While I recently quit my band, History (hence the Herstory blog title), I'm continuing the blog but with a slight twist.

Herstory (which I should credit my old friend Travis for his clever name contribution) ends as my time with History comes to a close. Playing music in a band for the last eight years has compiled more experiences than I could ever summate in one blog.  I can say, however, that it bears responsibility for major growth as a musician, artist and woman.

My last show with History allowed me to soak in one last set with some of the best musicians Florida has to offer. My time with the band made me a better musician and on a grander scale, a better person. My nostalgia uncontrollably emitted verbal vomits on the microphone before the last song. Emotive moments mixed with excessive amounts of whiskey made for a slurred sentimental speech that was less than eloquent. Either way, fun was had by all, and I had one last chance to rock out with my cock out. Ok, maybe the cocks were contained, but I rocked out in the true tubetop, knee high boot style I've come to be known for.

While my bass playing momentarily gets put on hold, other loves take the stage. After finishing my yoga certification, I'll become a New York resident with a move to Brooklyn, a relocation I've dreamed of for 10 years. (Sorry Florida, you'll still warm my heart)

My previous blogs followed History's tour, giving a glimpse into the life of a chick bassist in a rock band. Now life takes me in a new direction, and while my love for music is stronger than ever, my focus has shifted toward writing. MacK the Knife will give REAX readers a peek into a music journalist's preparations, tensions and executions of the band interviews and articles that make it to the press. 

I may be biased, but check out the best band ever:
History's Official Myspace

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We finally did it. History opened for Helmet Tuesday night. Twelve years ago, I never would have imagined that I'd be writing those words. I could have never known then, at 15, that I would be in a rock band, sharing the stage with a band I was watching rock the stage at The Edge. I'm showing my age even mentioning The Edge. For those of you that can remember, that big black and white cow building in downtown Orlando, now known as 8 seconds, used to be The Edge. That venue provided my teenage years with some of the best shows I've attended in my lifetime. Between the concert field, the shed in back and the inside venue, I saw some of the best bands of the 90s.

One of those unforgettable shows was Helmet and Nine Inch Nails. During that show I was blasted back with heavy guitar tones and loudness that probably contributed to early hearing loss. I stood up front, squished between large, sweaty guys, my ribs pressed so hard against the metal barrier that I thought I was one push away from fracturing one of them. Helmet tore through song after song as I banged my head and grasped for each breath of air between the mosh pit pushing against me from behind.

That night was unforgettable, and Helmet entered my life again Tuesday making another memorable evening.

Before we could reach the Backbooth, we made the long and tiring drive home from Chapel Hill. The stench of all of us in the van was overwhelming. Scott described our stink as onions being cooked in oil, simmering for quite some time. It seemed like the perfect description of our collective body odor.

Once back in Orlando, we showered and made it to Helmet. Our 20 minute set was one of the tightest we've played in awhile, or so Superfan Mike told us. He would know, he's our biggest fan and comes to every show. We owe him a thank you for purchasing four of our cds that night. Thanks Mike! I hope playing for seven nights straight most likely played a role in the live show improvements. After we finished, Totimoshi and Burning Brides took the stage and blew me away. Once again, I shared the night with two other female bassists. It's such a simple thing that makes me so very happy.

 

Helmet played quite an inebriated set. There was a lot of talking between Page Hamilton and the crowd, but I talked to my brother who is a Helmet superfan. He was having a blast with the intimacy of the show. The band was having a good time, consuming excessive amounts of alcohol, telling lots of stories and taking requests. A few people mentioned an annoyance at their show length and lack of songs. I guess it's that "less talk, more rock" kind of attitude. I was pretty indifferent and enjoyed some of the stage banter Page had with the audience. My brother was loving it and even asked Page what he thought of History during the show. A brief conversation between them ensued about the quality of our band and Page jokingly said, "That's it. No bands that are better than us are allowed to open the show."  My brother was proud and was telling everyone all night, very drunkenly, that he taught me how to play bass. I haven't seen him have such a good time in years. After the show we met Page, took pictures and talked about History. He was nicer than I ever could have imagined and it made my night. It's an honor to have History on the same poster as Helmet and I took home a great print that I plan on framing. I think my brother may have been more excited about his poster, which he had the band sign and plans to frame, too.

 

The evening was a success and I feel fortunate to have had such a great experience. I hope this is a sign of things to come. If not, it was a great night where we met some phenomenal bands, sold some cds and hang out with a legend in rock that fueled some of my angst ridden teenage years. This night will stay strong in my memory for many years to come. Thank you Helmet.   

 

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