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On November 12th, 2005 I was in Toronto for a one-two punch of shows that started with Michael Franti at the Bloor Cinema.
A one-two punch of an event in itself, Franti’s screening of his film I Know I’m Not Alone followed by a mini-set from the long, tall, dreadlocked soul-rocker has already been covered in this personal stream of ticket tales. Instead, this memory centres on the second punch of the evening, a show at the El Mocambo featuring Soulive.
Unfortunately this is destined to be a short story, as Franti’s mini-set actually turned out to be not so mini after all, and no matter how franticly we rushed from one show to the next we only managed to catch the last two songs of Soulive’s set before they called it a night.
It’s too bad too, the funky/jammy/jazzy trio are fantastic and it was a joy to see them (if briefly) in such a classic venue. After our ten minutes of music was up we popped backstage and said hello to the band, courtesy of m’lady, who had hung out with them during a couple of their tours of Japan several years before. Nice lads.
And then we were on the street, all punched out of entertainment. I forget where we stayed that night but it was either at the Delta Chelsea (our regular Priceline deal back in those days) or with my friend at his brother’s place, where our host’s large, young dog took a cartoonish bite out of my new jacket’s cuff.
I had that jacket for another dozen years, and I swear you could forever make out the canine’s teeth-marks in the perfect semi-circle that was missing from that jacket. It made for an excellent conversation piece, and a wonderful launchpad for some wild, twisting lies.
Todd Man Out 