Nightlife Part 2

Informal Nightlife

Nightlife part 2

When Hap Roderman joined (the very next night after the Lionel-Rick dust-up) not that much changed. I mean that in a good way. For our band to play pop music well, we had to make up or fill-in for the lack of guitar. Lionel knew what to do and so did Hap. 

I suppose something changed. When I chanced to meet up with Lionel in Steve’s Music a year later he told me that bad feelings between him and Rick had been brewing for some time before the blow-up. 

I wasn’t aware of it. 

I’ve been music director both officially and unofficially for at least half a dozen bands. When personality clashes happened I didn’t care as long as the music didn’t suffer. 

But there’s no question that when you lose the internal friction a band gets an audible “float” to it. It’s hard to explain but that’s what happened with  Nightlife that fall of 1980. For about two weeks.

There’s always egos to deal with. There’s a little bit of “I’m special” in everyone who chooses to perform on stage. This “specialness”, within reason, causes no problem until it’s threatened. 

Respect. Even just a little, and nobody needs to defend themselves. 

Nightlife had four comedians, two more than we needed. The ones that weren’t necessary, Rick Gratton and Dave Bonham, specialized in putdown humour.

Dave was our light-man and general roadie. He was a cheerful, affable guy for the most part but showed no respect. The ring-leader was Rick who had a “stream of conciousness” delivery similar to Robin Williams. He and Dave would compete for the best bon mots of the night, caustic quips designed to peel the protective covering off of any ego.

So Funny I Forgot To……

Rick:    Hey Heff, we were thinking of you and we took up a collection

Mike:   For what?

Rick:    Piano lessons

Dave:   And deodorant

Followed by high pitched derisive laughter

With Hap on bass we finished that gig in Barrie and played a week in Windsor. That took us to the beginning of nine straight weeks of in-town gigs. 

It’s All About Me

It started November 3rd with a two week engagement at Adam’s Rib, a bar in the west end of Toronto. 

Mondays are usually a twelve hour shift for bar bands because you spend the afternoon setting up and the evening doing the show. Being in a place for more than one week is a real bonus and in my case allowed for a valuable advancement in my career. 

The afternoon of Monday November 10th I was at home torturing my piano. The telephone rang and it was Ken Friesan, a record producer who had been hiring me for all of his projects since the beginning of the year.

“Can you get down here to Eastern Sound in half an hour?”

“Forty-five minutes maybe, what’s up?”

“I’m here with Gord and we need some piano”

I wasn’t sure who “Gord” was but I got lucky with the traffic and made it down to Yorkville Avenue in forty minutes.

I buzzed the side door of the studio and identified myself. It unlocked and I proceeded down a thirty foot hall to Studio A. That unmistakable voice was wafting out of the sides and bottom of a door at the end of the hall. Gordon Lightfoot. 

What ensued was a session recording the theme song for a movie Gord had and later, a tentative  offer to join his band. There was a new album to record and an eighty show tour in 1981.

“Think about it” he said as I was getting ready to leave. Ken spoke to me as I was going out the door.

“Gord probably won’t make a final decision on this until close to Christmas” he said. 

It wasn’t a sure thing and it could be six weeks before I knew but I figured I should be upfront with Joe. It was only fair.

A Real Gentleman

I went straight to Adam’s Rib. It was after 8 PM and we started at 9. During our first break I gave him notice that I would be leaving at the end of the current run of gigs, which was Jan. 5.

I suppose he was dismayed that he had to make some changes but he didn’t show it. As I recall his reaction was to congratulate me and to pleasantly imply, “let’s make the best of what’s left”. He was that kind of guy.

The Lights Are Much Brighter

On November 17 we went downtown. We were booked for two weeks in the main lounge at The Westbury Hotel on Yonge Street. The engagement was notable in that the Canadian Football League’s big event, the Grey Cup, was being played in Toronto on Sunday the 23rd between Edmonton and Hamilton. 54,700 fans were expected to attend with at least 20,000 of them from Alberta. It looked like every one of them was downtown whooping it up western style on the night before the game.

Shoot The Piano Player

It was anarchy. The bar we were playing in was packed beyond capacity. We played for a while and took a break. Within minutes some drunken Edmonton good-ol’-boys were up on the stage staggering around, pretending to sing into the microphones and just generally being dicks. I strolled over casually and said as diplomatically as possible

“Hey assholes! Get off our stage”.

“Who the fuck are you?” said a wardrobe-challenged slob in a gaudy western shirt, a vest and a Stetson hat four sizes too large.

“If you weren’t brain dead, you drunken pretend cowboy, you’d have noticed that I’m the operator of those very expensive keyboards you’re stumbling next to.”

“I don’t think you’re in the shpirit of the event” he retorted, having a bit of trouble with the word spirit.

All three of them were now glaring at me menacingly. At least they weren’t breaking anything.

Now I’m a hot-headed guy, full of the need to defend my pride but I’m also a pragmatist. Married people sometimes have to ask themselves, “you wanna be right or do you wanna be happy?”

That evening I substituted “happy” with “alive” and I got “Have a nice night guys.”

Way The Hell Up And Gone

The Sheraton Centre in Toronto was an incredibly oversized hotel. 42 stories of rooms topped off with a bar/restaurant/disco that took up the entire 43rd floor.

It was across the street from Nathan Phillips Square. The Square is a large area with fountains, sculptures, skating rinks/wading pools and two futuristic-looking towers straddling a parked flying saucer where the aliens who piloted it are kept captive.

On two occasions an alien escaped, disguised himself as a bumbling oaf and ran for mayor. Incredibly, both of them won! Mel Lastman in 1998 and Rob Ford in 2010.

Nathan Phillips Square was the scene of a notable event during our first week at the Sheraton. December 10 there was a candlelight vigil for John Lennon who was senselessly murdered two days before. Over 35000 people attended.

CODA

Those weeks at the Sheraton Centre were my last performances with Joe Fergus and Nightlife. It marked the end of an era for me. I miss those days.