I hit the open mic circuit this week, hoping to get the word out about my show at Cafe Deux Soleils on the 30th. What I found is that, not unlike Vancouver itself, the open mic scene is mutable and full of surprises.

Wednesday night, I went to The Wired Monk in Kitsilano and found a mellow, intimate crowd. The performers sat against a wall, inches away from their listeners, who circled their chairs close to hear. A great way for performers to connect with their audience, but alas, I personally was out of luck that evening. The jam shut down early because of the fireworks, and sure enough the place was completely empty by 9:30.

The next night, I trucked my guitar on down to Cafe Deux Soleils itself, hoping to entice the crowd back for my show. When I arrived, I found the place packed and buzzing with excitement. Craig, CDS’s affable host, informed me that tonight was no ordinary open mic night - it was CDS’s fourth anniversary! So it wasn’t really “open” mic night, but rather a handpicked “best of CDS open mic” who would be playing that evening. “Stick around,” Craig said “it’s going to be really good!”

He wasn’t kidding.

What followed was possibly the most energetic and eclectic set of performers I’d ever seen in one place. First up was Ian, who beatboxed chill while playing basslines on his digeridoo. He was followed by Matt Hogan, whose short story reading captured the feminine voice of his narrator with jarring skill. Other standouts included the hilarious Fraser MacLean, the unearthly Francis Mantis, and the divine Christie Rose, who’s written some of the best and sunniest tunes I’ve heard in recent memory.

I walked out of the Cafe that night grinning ear to ear. Vancouver’s treasury of stories and songs is so rich, and I’ve barely begun to explore it! What an adventure it will be to hear, see, discover, and ultimately add to the collection.

Now that the album is out, some of you have asked for stories of how it came to be. Ask and ye shall receive!

While all of the songs started life in my wee bedroom studio, they weren’t truly born until I brought them to the Audities Studio in March.

Audities – aptly named – is both a recording studio and something of a museum, with a collection of divine, kooky 20th century musical artifacts. The first time I walked into the control room, I was greeted by an army of synthesizers, a row of reel-to-reel tape machines, and… what on earth is THAT?

“It’s a Marxophone,” grinned David Kean, the curator of the collection, as he began plinking away on the strange little finger piano.

Over the course of the week, I learned that this is the only collection of its kind. Because the 20th century saw so many new instruments come in and out of fashion, studios and musicians often got rid of synthesizers or keyboards once they went out of style. Even some mass produced instruments are now rarities as there was no real movement to conserve them.

That’s where Audities comes in. Not only does it hold everything from an Andromeda to a Zumsteel pedal steel, but the instruments are out in the open, begging to be played. And play them we did.

While I sang the vocal for “What I Am”, David leaned into the control room mic and asked “Where’s the pedal steel on this song?”

“Don’t I wish! I don’t know where to find one, let alone someone who can play it…”

“Well,” he drawled as he walked toward a jumble of instruments, “I may be a little rusty but…”

And that’s how we ended up with steel guitar, Mellotron, vibraphone, and Hammond S on the album, and why I will never look at a Casio keyboard the same way again…