July 16, 2014
To everyone who came out to Cookie-Con, thank you! To everyone who has a copy of ‘Filk and Cookies‘ already, thank you! To Mike, my valiant sound man, you are always there when I need you, thank you! To my support musicians, thank you – Jean, you worked so damn hard, smiling all the while, not to mention schlepping my ass and all attendant gear over the river, through the woods, and to Hell and back. Thank you for lending me your voice to help bring my songs to life. Sora, it’s been amazing working with you these past five years, and thank you for letting me make use of both your PA system and your unfettered brilliance. You are among the most important people in my life. Mom, you are such an angelic talent, and I can’t believe you would stoop to singing raunchy pirate songs and pancake madrigals with your baby girl, but you did, and I love you for it, and for so much else. Dave, it was so great working with you again – I’ve missed you, gorramit! And thank you for agreeing to play Pancake Land again when you thought you had put it behind you for good. Luke, you’re great, I’m so glad you came out to be a part of it after all the definitive work you did on the album. You only played with us for one song, but I’ve been getting a strong sense from people that it was one of the best ones we did.
To my amazing volunteers – merch monkeys, doormice, and and especially Henry and Brad at the bar, thank you, you made the whole evening possible. The effusiveness of my gratitude may well douse this keyboard in big juicy tears. Here are a few words about how it went.
I love the Unitarian Church of Calgary and it was great to hold the release there. Besides being a great building with good energy, it’s part of Calgary’s music history. In the ‘70s, most of the building was taken up by Sounds West Studio and its sister label, Westmount Records. My stepdad tells me about a time when he was playing trombone with The Mal Simpson Big Band and they recorded an LP of disco hits there on a reel-to-reel recorder wearing “DISCO SUCKS!” T-shirts. These days there is still a music venue in the basement called Birds and Stone. I had my very first gig at Birds and Stone as part of a performing arts festival put on by Bubonic Tourist. I was sixteen years old, deeply immersed in developing my songwriting art, about to begin work on my first record, ‘Mostly Acoustic’ (which I made on my own on a Yamaha MD8 8-track recorder in my basement for six high school credits). I played four songs – which only a tiny fraction of my readership will have ever heard before – one awe-inspiring evening of powerful music, poetry, and drama which I will never forget. My whole family was sitting in those spring-loaded theatre-style chairs, as were a handful of friends from school who had heard me strum my guitar in the halls when I should have been in class. Those were my formative years, and that scuffed black floor, the cold, the glow of the space heater, and the dark silhouettes in the audience are still with me every time I perform.
It was so exciting when people started pouring in, carrying trays of homemade cookies. It was great to see so many old friends and loyal fans, many of whom I don’t get to see very often, but it was just as great to see a surprising number of new faces. Many people came in fabulous costumes, just as I hoped. It felt like a real micro-con, which was exactly what I was going for, and made it all the more satisfying when I started the music off with In Defense of Buffy Season 1, The Tywin Lannister Experience, and The History of Red Dwarf. The laughter was intoxicating and made me want to clap my feet together like a seal. Thankfully, I and the rest of the performers were able to hold it together through the laughter and the improvised audience participation, at least during the music itself – I did crack up a few times in between songs. (By contrast, on July 3 when I played at the Critical Hit variety show, I cracked up twice during my performance of The Clam when Statler and Waldorf at the bar cast the whole song in a new and suggestive light.) Also, for you Heroincredible fans out there who didn’t make it out, not only did we perform Pancake Land, but we did it with two-thirds of Heroincredible plus – wait for it – three more girls.
The Dragon-Slayer was another highlight. We did a brand new arrangement of it, with guitar, bass, and my three backup singers supplying the extra vocal lines that can be heard in the new madrigal version on ‘Filk and Cookies’. Best of all, almost the entire audience was singing along. I got very misty-eyed and almost choked.
I used the occasion as an opportunity to introduce my new beer steins with lyrics from It All Winds Up in the Glass. They were a big hit, and what a pleasure to see so many people drinking out of them!
As promised, we had a filk circle after the concert, and I have to say it was the best one I have ever been part of. There were so many varied and interesting performances, but I was especially glad that my backup singers all chose to share songs of their own. Sora started us off with Proof of Life from ‘Scorpion Moon’; my mother, Linda Miller, did vocal improvisation while two family friends, Gayle and Zenour Fathoulin, did authentic Inuit throat-singing (a taste of things to come for her concert in November). James Prescott, who came in as a session vocalist on the recording of Elsinore, sang Music Sex and Cookies – too perfect – and Jean, in addition to her own beautiful filk offering, led the whole circle in a swelling rendition of Rose, Rose. I took the opportunity to kick off my shoes and stamp my feet while singing my brand new song, Chapter 122, adapted from Chapter 122 of Moby-dick, and the circle was kind enough to comply with my request for audience participation. When all was done, you know what they say about many hands – the hall was cleaned and packed up in a flash, and I like to think everyone went home happy.
On to the next thing, as they say. I am a lucky girl, and a purring, satisfied songstress.
