REBELLION IN CANADA
Chasing the Rays Across Quebec
So what do you do when your favorite band announces a North American tour
consisting of 5 dates, none of which are anywhere near your home? Jen and
I picked the destination that sounded most interesting, borrowed heavy parkas
from family members, and hopped a flight to Montreal. Neither of us had
ever been to Canada before, but we were charmed by the many facets of Montreal
and the old-world charm of Quebec City. Less charming were the
temperatures, including the day that topped out at -22 degrees Celsius (that’s
-8 for us Fahrenheit-worshiping Americans). Bloody hell. We
thin-blooded Southerners flip out when the temperature dips below freezing, so
Canada in late January was definitely a challenge; however, we were rewarded
for our intrepid spirit by experiences such as smoked meat sandwiches and
Boreale beer in Montreal, an afternoon at Quebec City’s winter carnival, and, oh
yeah, a pair of memorable Gamma Ray concerts.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The venue for tonight’s show was the Café Campus. Located on a
pedestrian-only street in the quirky, creative Latin Quarter of Montreal, the
gig was less than a kilometer from our hotel. We had shelled out an extra
$30 apiece for VIP tickets (tonight only, no sense in wasting money on it a
second time tomorrow), and our instructions were to appear at the Café Campus
at 5:30 p.m. for early admission plus a pre-show meet-and-greet with the
band. So we dutifully adhered to these directives, walked through the
snow flurries, and arrived at the club just after 5 p.m. Upon arriving,
we found a short line of people queuing up on the three flights of stairs (all
indoors thankfully) leading to the doors of the venue. For the next 2+
hours, that staircase was our home. It was warm and toasty, so that was
positive. But it also became jam-packed with a sea of humanity, VIP and
regular guest alike, awaiting admission to the venue. Eventually, word
filtered out that the pre-show meet-and-greet had been delayed until after the
show, which was fine. But time kept passing and no one was being admitted.
Sometime after 6 p.m., a clamor emerged below us on the stairs and we heard voices
yelling, “Clear a path.” We did so, and soon observed a pair of
heavily-bundled figures purposefully ascending the stairs, one with a guitar
case strapped to his back. Sure enough, it was Dirk and Dan from Gamma
Ray. Not sure if they had traveled separately from New York or what, but
it was obvious they were just arriving at the venue for the first time. An
interminable bass-and-drums soundcheck followed, with us all the while waiting
on that damned infernal staircase. To pass the time, the ever-affable Jen
befriended a father and daughter from Toronto, and engaged in Canadian trivia
such as “name all the Canadian provinces,” “what’s the best food to get at Tim
Horton’s” (an ubiquitous breakfast chain found on nearly every street corner in
Montreal), and so on. Jen makes friends wherever she goes. Me, I
just gritted my teeth and cursed the disorganized venue people (or band
management as the case may be) under my breath. It’s amazing the two of
us ever ended up together, really.
Finally at approximately 7:15 p.m., the doors opened, and we were admitted to the
venue. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the air reeked of
marijuana. More importantly, the place was tiny. A sign on the wall
near the bar said 365, apparently representing the capacity at the Café Campus,
but it would be a stretch to cram that many folks in such a small space.
To be sure, there was a small balcony area (called “The Mezzo”) upstairs looking
down on the stage, so presumably that space helped account for the
365-capacity. I immediately made a beeline for the stage, securing a spot
in the front row directly in front of Henjo’s gear. Jen followed.
There was no barricade, no photopit or anything of the sort, so we were pushed
right up against the stage, which was not even waist high. A minute or two
after I took my place, Gamma Ray’s longtime guitar tech Piesel (also guitarist
in Iron Savior) walked by and said “nice shirt” upon noticing my St. Pauli
skull-and-crossbones shirt I’d bought in Hamburg last January near a Gamma Ray
gig. Fittingly, Piesel was wearing a St. Pauli shirt of his own, so I
returned to compliment. Cool.
The venue made it quite clear that their overriding objective was to make up for
lost time, opening acts be damned. Within 10 minutes after doors opened,
as the room was still filling and many people were still outside, the first
band, Heroik, was ushered onto the small part of the stage not encumbered
by Gamma Ray’s gear. I wasn’t familiar with the band, but the image
created a strong inference as to their musical direction. The drumkit
featured a large silver shield welded onto the frame. The singer wore a
shirt with golden tassles. Not surprisingly, this was heroic (heroik?)
fantasy metal all the way, heavily influenced by the likes of Rhapsody,
Stratovarius, Dragonforce and Helloween. Unfortunately, the sound was
horrible, as I could hear only drums and keyboards, plus some vocals. The
poor mix rendered it difficult to discern much about the songs. Matters
weren’t helped by the fact that Heroik were given just 4 songs, consisting of
“My Last Fall,” “Goodbye My Friend” (not a Blind Guardian cover), “Heart of
Battle,” and “We Will Fight,” to win over the crowd. That’s not much time
at all. And of course the stage was so cramped that the band members had
no room to move around whatsoever, although the guitarist did some rather
unimpressive Edguy butt-shaking moves during the playful bouncy “Goodbye My
Friend.” The conditions weren’t really amenable to judging Heroik one way
or the other, which is too bad. I’d definitely be interested in hearing more from them.
A lightning-fast 10-minute changeover quickly gave way to a second opening
act. They neither said their name from the stage, nor displayed any
banner, drumhead or t-shirts to identify them, but I later figured out that
they’re called Eclipse Prophecy (I think). The most memorable
facet of their 20-minute gig (which included the songs “Through the Storm,”
“Warcry,” “Shadow’s Veils,” and “Inferno”) was the heavyset singer/guitarist
who was wearing a worn-out, holey Iced Earth t-shirt. He began sweating
profusely from the moment he took the stage, and I derived much mirth and
amusement from the horrified reaction of the woman standing next to me (no, not
Jen) whenever the guy shook his head and sweat beads cascaded down on the front
row. Look, lady, Blackie Lawless said it best when he said that
rock’n’roll was meant to be sweaty and smelly, and if it ain’t sweaty and
smelly, then it ain’t rock’n’roll. It was kind of disgusting
though. Music sounded like heavy US-influenced power metal, but once
again it was very difficult to hear anything other than drums or
keyboards. Man, the sound setup at Café Campus sure does suck for people
up front, which really didn’t bode well for Gamma Ray. At this point,
though, I couldn’t have moved a step even if I’d wanted to, as the floor was
crammed with as many French Canadian people as could possibly fit. Poor
Jen had bought a Coke (for the highway robbery price of $3.50 for about 6
ounces of carbonated water and sugar over ice) after the first band, which
they’d served to her in a glass, and it was literally impossible for her to
walk across the room to return the glass, so she ended up having to hang onto
the glassware for the entire Gamma Ray gig.
The set change for Gamma Ray happened swiftly, as the club seemed to be
operating on warp speed to get rid of the metalheads as soon as humanly
possible. Even with all the openers’ gear removed, the stage was still
quite small, so small that Daniel’s drumkit was placed directly on the stage,
rather than on a riser. This was going to be the epitome of an intimate
club gig with Gamma Ray. I couldn’t wait. At 10 minutes before 9
p.m., the houselights went down and the familiar strains of the “Welcome” intro
tape rang out. When the band took the stage to what’s become Gamma Ray’s
go-to opener, “Gardens of the Sinner,” the entire place went ballistic. I
never would have thought 300 people could make that much noise, but they
did. And they kept it up all night too, bursting out into spontaneous
Gamma Ray cheers after each and every song, singing along with every word even
louder than Kai Hansen, and generally being electrified with energy and
power. During several songs, the pushing and shoving on the floor got
pretty intense, and poor Jen took a few elbows to the head (although the
culprits apologized to her profusely). To her credit, though, my metal
wife kept on singing and smiling and rocking out, lumps and bruises
notwithstanding. Meanwhile, the band were beaming with joy at the
overwhelmingly loud and fired-up audience response, with the ever-smiling Kai
thanking us several times and thumping his heart to convey how much this
Montreal welcome meant to the Rays. What this audience lacked in numbers
it more than compensated for in energy and unbridled, off-the-rails enthusiasm.
As a veteran of more than a dozen Gamma Ray gigs around the world, I’m not sure
I’ve ever seen one where the vibe was quite like this before. Small, hot,
happy and fired-up would be the best descriptors. The Rays were in fine
spirits too and were moving about the small stage as much as they possibly
could, jumping up and down, all smiles and sweat (Kai changed t-shirts three
times, it was so stifling in there). They had the audience eating out of
the palms of their hands from the beginning, whether playing old stuff like
“New World Order” or the totally awesome “Savior / Abyss of the Void”
(introduced by Kai as a song about the one we’re all waiting for, the one who
never comes) or newer material like “Empathy” and “Deadlands.” The
setlist was *exactly* like the one I had seen in Hamburg back in January 2010
for the first night of the tour, except that “New World Order” had been missing
on that chilly evening on the Reeperbahn but was back tonight.
Highlights? Well, there were too many to count, but a few come to
mind: the adrenaline-fueled hammerblow of “Armageddon,” the killer newbie
“Deadlands,” the segue from “Rebellion in Dreamland” into “Man on a Mission,”
the part where the band stopped “Man on a Mission” for a second to catch their
breaths and the audience kept belting out the chorus a capella, with Kai just
letting it go on and on, all smiles. Then there was the part during “To
the Metal” where Henjo suddenly recognized me, such that he reached down to
shake my hand as soon as the song ended. Before the first encore, Kai
passed me a bottle of water, which Jen and I guzzled down in seconds. And
at the end of the show, 105 minutes after it began, Kai took his last guitar
pick and plunked it right into my outstretched palm before leaving the
stage. Cool all the way around.
As much as I enjoyed this gig – and I enjoyed it a lot – there was one rather
substantial deterrent to my enjoyment. Yep, that accursed sound system /
mix. Basically, where Jen and I were standing we heard a whole shitload
of Henjo’s guitar and not much else. Sometimes Kai’s vocals and guitar
were completely inaudible from our vantage point. Moving was out of the
question given how jammed the floor was, so we made the best of it. I
decided early on that I would just use this gig as a rare opportunity to focus
on Henjo’s playing, and I was glad. I noticed all kinds of little melodic
licks and parts that he adds to songs during bridges, choruses, and outros,
stuff that had never really caught my ear. And he is quite a fluid and
smooth player too. Everything with Henjo is melodic speed and fire,
whereas Kai slows things down and goes by feel a lot more, playing fewer notes
with more feeling. They complement each other beautifully, and after
tonight I have a much better appreciation for Henjo’s work. So I did my
best to turn the negative of the crappy P.A. and mix into a positive.
Besides, there was still tomorrow night in Quebec City.
Setlist: Gardens of the Sinner, New World Order, Empathy, Deadlands, Fight, Mother Angel,
No Need to Cry, Savior / Abyss of the Void, drum solo, Armageddon, To the Metal,
Rebellion in Dreamland, Man on a Mission. Encore: I Want Out, Send Me a Sign.
By 10:35 p.m., the show was over and the metalheads began clearing the hall
immediately. A curtain was dropped over the stage as the roadies cleared
Gamma Ray’s gear as swiftly as possible. It soon became evident that the
Gamma Ray show was not the only event happening at Café Campus on this frigid
Saturday night in Montreal. By 10:50 p.m., a DJ had begun pumping
obnoxious techno dance music out of the sound system at an ear-splitting
volume, and little by little the metal crowd became supplanted by 20-something
coeds in skimpy cocktail dresses out for a night of dancing, clutching pitchers
of cheap beer as they mingled on the floor and grooved to the funky
beats. For our part, we were prisoners to this spectacle, because we were
still awaiting the VIP meet-and-greet we’d been promised. Commemorative
posters were passed around to the 70-80 of us who were participating and we
were shunted to the upstairs balcony area, all the better to observe the
horrific dance party unfolding before us. (Funny, dozens of dance-party
20-year old dudes sat alone up in that balcony with their own pitchers of cheep
beer, ogling the dancing coeds below and presumably trying to muster the
courage to ask them for their phone numbers or something.) By 11:15 or
so, three-quarters of Gamma Ray (everyone except for Daniel, who looked
positively exhausted and drenched in sweat by the end of the gig) had convened
at a table near the balcony, and a long line of VIPs snaked around the room to meet them.
Jen and I were practically at the very end of the line, so it must have taken
30-40 minutes (or maybe even longer) for us to get to the front. The
first Ray we encountered was Henjo, who immediately grinned and called out to
me, “It’s good to see you again,” before giving me a big hug. Dirk was
pretty reserved, and seemed pretty tired and bored with the whole meet-n-greet
thing, but he still signed our posters and took a photo with Jen. (She’s
always had a soft spot for him ever since he was so nice to us in 2001 when we
followed GR around Hungary and the Czech Republic, not that Dirk remembers us
today.) When I finally reached Kai, I didn’t say a word before he looked
at me and said, “I’ve seen you before.” I somewhat sheepishly mumbled
something about having seen the band in 7 different countries, and he said, “I
know. I know I’ve seen you at lots of shows before. Thanks so much
for coming.” I was really touched. At this point in my life, I’m
not much for idol worship or starry-eyed rockstar admiration or whatever.
So many times, the people we place on pedestals as heroes turn out to be
anything but. Nonetheless, Kai Hansen has a special place in my heart as
probably my favorite musician, so I felt honored by his kind words. Kai
also admired my St. Pauli shirt, and seemed pleased when I told him I’d bought
it the last time I saw Gamma Ray. “Oh, on the Reeperbahn?” he
asked. Jen took a quick photo of me with Kai, then we said our goodbyes
and melted out in the frigid air for the brisk walk back to our
bed’n’breakfast. What a great day in Montreal, and it was after 3 a.m.
before I finally came back down to earth enough to fall asleep.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Then the alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. Brutal. With the sound of Henjo’s
amplifiers still ringing through our ears, we groggily trudged out of bed,
grabbed our packs, and began the 30-minute walk across town to the Gare
Centrale (central train station of Montreal). It was a surreal experience
for us to be marching through the eerily quiet streets of Montreal this
morning. There were no cars, no pedestrians, just the sounds of our boots
crunching on the snow and ice and the feel of the chill (-10 degrees Celsius)
Canadian air on our cheeks in the gray semi-darkness. We reached the
train station without incident and, after a breakfast of a large Tim Horton’s
coffee and a donut, boarded our Via Rail train bound for Quebec City. The
three-hour train ride was smooth and comfortable, and by just after 11 a.m., we
tumbled out of our rail car onto the streets of Quebec.
The next few hours were a blur. We walked about 1 km to our hotel, the
Best Western Centreville, where we checked into an upgraded business class room
(nice, thanks Best Western!). After a quick trip to the grocery store to
buy lunch and beer, we found ourselves joining throngs of Quebecois lining the
downtown streets as the Winter Carneval parade went by, complete with gigantic
inflatable balloons bearing the likenesses of a Canadian moose, Nemo the fish,
and of course Bonhomme, the Winter Carnevale mascot who bears more than a
passing resemblance to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man of Ghostbusters
infamy. After the parade, we scurried across downtown, and made the long,
steep climb to the old part of Quebec to the Plains of Abraham, where all of
the Winter Carnevale events were laid out in all their splendor. Ya gotta
hand it to the people of Quebec: They are not impeded or fazed in the
slightest by the vicious cold weather. They just bundle up, get out
there, and play in the ice. A little frostbite never killed anyone,
right? Err, ummm, nevermind. There were snowrafting competitions
(with large inflatable river rafts careening down the mountain), ice
sculptures, an outdoor hot tub, and an active bar fashioned entirely out of
blocks of ice. Amazing. Sadly, we couldn’t tarry. After all,
we had a gig to attend. So by 4:30 p.m. or so, we beat feet back to the
hotel, where we had a lovely beer and a sandwich and rested for a bit.
We left the room just after 6 p.m., crazily enough, without coats as we headed
outside in the -15 degree evening air. But we didn’t need coats because
tonight’s venue, L’Imperial de Quebec, was literally right around the
corner. The Imperial is a gorgeous, stately old renovated theater that
holds roughly 1,100 people. It’s an absolutely stunning facility to see a
show, with a nicely sloped, tiered floor, great sightlines, and a cool balcony
(that was kept off limits on this night). Tonight there were probably 700
or 800 metalheads in the venue to see Gamma Ray, not a big enough crowd to pack
the place or make it feel uncomfortably crowded but a more than respectable
crowd nonetheless. Interestingly, we noted on the way in that Gamma Ray
had completely sold out of almost all their merchandise, as they had no girlies
or hats left, and their only t-shirts were in a size Small. Should have
printed up more merch, boys, because the Canadians bought everything they could
get their hands on.
Because we arrived shortly after the doors opened, there was no front-row space
for us tonight, but we settled into a nice spot second-row centerstage, which
promised to provide an outstanding vantage point for the night’s
festivities. There was an extraordinarily drunk, tattoo-covered woman
standing next to us. She kept stumbling into us, and at one point she
spilled some of her beer on my head as she raised it aloft. Nice.
It didn’t take me long to understand why we’d gotten such a great spot on the
floor: No one else wanted to stand next to this idiot woman.
Fortunately, she disappeared long before the opening acts were done, leaving us
with a great view and no further troubles, interruptions or beer-soakings of any kind.
Promptly at 7:00 p.m., the first band, Aeternam, came out on stage.
Definitely a bit more of an extreme band than we’d seen the night before, they
combined death/black metal with exotic Middle-Eastern sounding melodies.
Not my favorite style, but their music was enjoyable enough in the small dose of
a 30-minute set, especially with those Eastern melodic twists they
incorporated. Oh, and they all wore too much black eyeliner, a look that
rarely works for men.
When Merkabah took the stage at around 7:50 p.m., I feared the
worst. None of them looked anything like the others. One guitar
player had long hair and stood by himself on one side of the stage, mostly
looking awkward. The other guitarist had short graying hair, and the
bassist had a semi-mohawk punk rock kind of thing going. Then there was
the singer, a chick decked out in a rather exotic black dress kind of thing
that left her midriff exposed. My expectations of disaster were quelled
instantly when they started to play. Their music was actually really
cool. To my ears, it sounded like U.S. type traditional heavy/power metal
with loads of guitars, plenty of dynamics in the music, and a powerhouse female
vocalist who sounded at least a bit like Sabrina from Seven Kingdoms.
There were various orchestrations and effects being flown in from the drummer’s
laptop, but I scarcely noticed them. Merkabah’s music was pretty
captivating, and I walked away so impressed that I bought a CD from their
guitarist (the short-haired guy, a very nice bloke by the way) for $12 at the
end of the night. That disc dates back to 2007, but I’ll bet their
forthcoming new one will be better, judging by the material I heard
tonight. It also helped that the crowd was quite familiar with and
supportive of Merkabah, judging by the Merkabah t-shirts sprinkled throughout
the crowd, the people singing along with lyrics, and the eager audience
participation whenever the singer encouraged it.
When the lights went dark again at 9:00 p.m., it was Gamma Ray
time. My first surprise was that when the intro tape started, it wasn’t
the familiar strains of “Welcome.” Nope, tonight the “Welcome” tape was
preceded by Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” Not sure why, but it seemed
fitting. Then it was off to the races for the next two hours of live
Gamma Ray, comin’ at ya. Lots of things were the same as last
night: The band were dressed the same, the setlist was largely the same,
Dan’s drum solo was the same, and so on. But lots of things were
different, too. For starters, the sound quality and mix were vastly
superior tonight than at that Café Campus hellhole in Montreal. Every
instrument and voice was fully audible, and the mix was well-balanced and
clear. Ahhhhh. So I could hear every word that Kai was singing
tonight, unlike last night. Even though he was straining a bit (he
acknowledged as much, saying something about Arctic winds getting caught in his
throat), he still sounded like vintage Kai, cutting loose with full power,
screams and all, throughout the gig. Another positive change tonight was
that the gig felt more relaxed, less rushed. Kai talked a bit more in
between songs (for example, dedicating “Mother Angel” to everyone’s dead
relatives, friends, soldiers and so on, who we may see again someday but may
not), the solo parts were looser, longer and more improvised (hell, they even
threw in a portion of “Heading for Tomorrow” in the middle of “Man on a
Mission”). During the encores, Henjo teased us by playing the intro to
“Future World,” although they didn’t actually play the song. What was
really different about the encores tonight was that as soon as they came back on
stage, Kai announced, “It’s time for some old shit. You motherfuckers ready to
‘Ride the Sky’?” And we did. And it was glorious. To hear one
of my all-time favorite songs added into the setlist tonight, and performed so
magnificently, was worth the trip to Quebec all by itself.
Based on the above, you’re probably thinking that I’m gonna say the Quebec City
gig annihilated the Montreal gig. But the funny thing is that it
didn’t. Something was missing tonight in Quebec City. The room
didn’t have that electric energy that marked the Montreal crowd. Most
times when I looked around tonight, I saw people just standing around. I
never got jostled. Jen didn’t even take an elbow to her coconut tonight.
Don’t get me wrong: The audience cheered. They sang
along. They made noise. But it wasn’t an insane, off-the-hook crowd
like last night, even though tonight’s audience probably more than doubled last
night’s in terms of sheer numbers. Weird. Perfect example:
Recall that in Montreal, when the band paused in “Man on a Mission,” the crowd
just kept singing the chorus, on and on, over and over again, with no prompting
whatsoever from the band. Tonight, at the exact same moment, the crowd
just cheered for a few seconds then stopped, leaving the band to jump in and
proceed with the song largely without our help. I never would have
suspected the vibes in the two venues to be so drastically different on back to
back nights with the same band playing the same set, but there it was. I
suppose that’s the beauty of live music. As Forrest Gump would say, it’s
kinda like a box of chocolates: You never know what you’re going to get.
What we got at the end of tonight’s show was much like what we got at the end of
last night’s show. Jen caught a bottle of water thrown from the stage
(actually, she was trying to duck as Dirk tossed it in the audience, and it
somehow ended up at her feet), and I ended up with another Kai guitar
pick. Cool. We hadn’t signed up for the meet’n’greet tonight (hey,
it gets expensive to keep shelling out $30 VIP surcharges for every ticket), so
when the show ended, we slowly made our way out the front door, went around the
corner to the Best Western, settled back into our plush accommodations with a
couple of delicious Canadian brews, and wondered if we’d imagined the whole experience.
Setlist: Gardens of the Sinner, New World Order, Empathy, Deadlands, Fight, Mother Angel,
No Need to Cry, Savior/Abyss of the Void, drum solo, Armageddon, To the Metal,
Rebellion in Dreamland, Man on a Mission (with part of Heading for
Tomorrow). Encores: Ride the Sky, I Want Out, Send Me a Sign.
Chasing the Rays Across Quebec
So what do you do when your favorite band announces a North American tour
consisting of 5 dates, none of which are anywhere near your home? Jen and
I picked the destination that sounded most interesting, borrowed heavy parkas
from family members, and hopped a flight to Montreal. Neither of us had
ever been to Canada before, but we were charmed by the many facets of Montreal
and the old-world charm of Quebec City. Less charming were the
temperatures, including the day that topped out at -22 degrees Celsius (that’s
-8 for us Fahrenheit-worshiping Americans). Bloody hell. We
thin-blooded Southerners flip out when the temperature dips below freezing, so
Canada in late January was definitely a challenge; however, we were rewarded
for our intrepid spirit by experiences such as smoked meat sandwiches and
Boreale beer in Montreal, an afternoon at Quebec City’s winter carnival, and, oh
yeah, a pair of memorable Gamma Ray concerts.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The venue for tonight’s show was the Café Campus. Located on a
pedestrian-only street in the quirky, creative Latin Quarter of Montreal, the
gig was less than a kilometer from our hotel. We had shelled out an extra
$30 apiece for VIP tickets (tonight only, no sense in wasting money on it a
second time tomorrow), and our instructions were to appear at the Café Campus
at 5:30 p.m. for early admission plus a pre-show meet-and-greet with the
band. So we dutifully adhered to these directives, walked through the
snow flurries, and arrived at the club just after 5 p.m. Upon arriving,
we found a short line of people queuing up on the three flights of stairs (all
indoors thankfully) leading to the doors of the venue. For the next 2+
hours, that staircase was our home. It was warm and toasty, so that was
positive. But it also became jam-packed with a sea of humanity, VIP and
regular guest alike, awaiting admission to the venue. Eventually, word
filtered out that the pre-show meet-and-greet had been delayed until after the
show, which was fine. But time kept passing and no one was being admitted.
Sometime after 6 p.m., a clamor emerged below us on the stairs and we heard voices
yelling, “Clear a path.” We did so, and soon observed a pair of
heavily-bundled figures purposefully ascending the stairs, one with a guitar
case strapped to his back. Sure enough, it was Dirk and Dan from Gamma
Ray. Not sure if they had traveled separately from New York or what, but
it was obvious they were just arriving at the venue for the first time. An
interminable bass-and-drums soundcheck followed, with us all the while waiting
on that damned infernal staircase. To pass the time, the ever-affable Jen
befriended a father and daughter from Toronto, and engaged in Canadian trivia
such as “name all the Canadian provinces,” “what’s the best food to get at Tim
Horton’s” (an ubiquitous breakfast chain found on nearly every street corner in
Montreal), and so on. Jen makes friends wherever she goes. Me, I
just gritted my teeth and cursed the disorganized venue people (or band
management as the case may be) under my breath. It’s amazing the two of
us ever ended up together, really.
Finally at approximately 7:15 p.m., the doors opened, and we were admitted to the
venue. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the air reeked of
marijuana. More importantly, the place was tiny. A sign on the wall
near the bar said 365, apparently representing the capacity at the Café Campus,
but it would be a stretch to cram that many folks in such a small space.
To be sure, there was a small balcony area (called “The Mezzo”) upstairs looking
down on the stage, so presumably that space helped account for the
365-capacity. I immediately made a beeline for the stage, securing a spot
in the front row directly in front of Henjo’s gear. Jen followed.
There was no barricade, no photopit or anything of the sort, so we were pushed
right up against the stage, which was not even waist high. A minute or two
after I took my place, Gamma Ray’s longtime guitar tech Piesel (also guitarist
in Iron Savior) walked by and said “nice shirt” upon noticing my St. Pauli
skull-and-crossbones shirt I’d bought in Hamburg last January near a Gamma Ray
gig. Fittingly, Piesel was wearing a St. Pauli shirt of his own, so I
returned to compliment. Cool.
The venue made it quite clear that their overriding objective was to make up for
lost time, opening acts be damned. Within 10 minutes after doors opened,
as the room was still filling and many people were still outside, the first
band, Heroik, was ushered onto the small part of the stage not encumbered
by Gamma Ray’s gear. I wasn’t familiar with the band, but the image
created a strong inference as to their musical direction. The drumkit
featured a large silver shield welded onto the frame. The singer wore a
shirt with golden tassles. Not surprisingly, this was heroic (heroik?)
fantasy metal all the way, heavily influenced by the likes of Rhapsody,
Stratovarius, Dragonforce and Helloween. Unfortunately, the sound was
horrible, as I could hear only drums and keyboards, plus some vocals. The
poor mix rendered it difficult to discern much about the songs. Matters
weren’t helped by the fact that Heroik were given just 4 songs, consisting of
“My Last Fall,” “Goodbye My Friend” (not a Blind Guardian cover), “Heart of
Battle,” and “We Will Fight,” to win over the crowd. That’s not much time
at all. And of course the stage was so cramped that the band members had
no room to move around whatsoever, although the guitarist did some rather
unimpressive Edguy butt-shaking moves during the playful bouncy “Goodbye My
Friend.” The conditions weren’t really amenable to judging Heroik one way
or the other, which is too bad. I’d definitely be interested in hearing more from them.
A lightning-fast 10-minute changeover quickly gave way to a second opening
act. They neither said their name from the stage, nor displayed any
banner, drumhead or t-shirts to identify them, but I later figured out that
they’re called Eclipse Prophecy (I think). The most memorable
facet of their 20-minute gig (which included the songs “Through the Storm,”
“Warcry,” “Shadow’s Veils,” and “Inferno”) was the heavyset singer/guitarist
who was wearing a worn-out, holey Iced Earth t-shirt. He began sweating
profusely from the moment he took the stage, and I derived much mirth and
amusement from the horrified reaction of the woman standing next to me (no, not
Jen) whenever the guy shook his head and sweat beads cascaded down on the front
row. Look, lady, Blackie Lawless said it best when he said that
rock’n’roll was meant to be sweaty and smelly, and if it ain’t sweaty and
smelly, then it ain’t rock’n’roll. It was kind of disgusting
though. Music sounded like heavy US-influenced power metal, but once
again it was very difficult to hear anything other than drums or
keyboards. Man, the sound setup at Café Campus sure does suck for people
up front, which really didn’t bode well for Gamma Ray. At this point,
though, I couldn’t have moved a step even if I’d wanted to, as the floor was
crammed with as many French Canadian people as could possibly fit. Poor
Jen had bought a Coke (for the highway robbery price of $3.50 for about 6
ounces of carbonated water and sugar over ice) after the first band, which
they’d served to her in a glass, and it was literally impossible for her to
walk across the room to return the glass, so she ended up having to hang onto
the glassware for the entire Gamma Ray gig.
The set change for Gamma Ray happened swiftly, as the club seemed to be
operating on warp speed to get rid of the metalheads as soon as humanly
possible. Even with all the openers’ gear removed, the stage was still
quite small, so small that Daniel’s drumkit was placed directly on the stage,
rather than on a riser. This was going to be the epitome of an intimate
club gig with Gamma Ray. I couldn’t wait. At 10 minutes before 9
p.m., the houselights went down and the familiar strains of the “Welcome” intro
tape rang out. When the band took the stage to what’s become Gamma Ray’s
go-to opener, “Gardens of the Sinner,” the entire place went ballistic. I
never would have thought 300 people could make that much noise, but they
did. And they kept it up all night too, bursting out into spontaneous
Gamma Ray cheers after each and every song, singing along with every word even
louder than Kai Hansen, and generally being electrified with energy and
power. During several songs, the pushing and shoving on the floor got
pretty intense, and poor Jen took a few elbows to the head (although the
culprits apologized to her profusely). To her credit, though, my metal
wife kept on singing and smiling and rocking out, lumps and bruises
notwithstanding. Meanwhile, the band were beaming with joy at the
overwhelmingly loud and fired-up audience response, with the ever-smiling Kai
thanking us several times and thumping his heart to convey how much this
Montreal welcome meant to the Rays. What this audience lacked in numbers
it more than compensated for in energy and unbridled, off-the-rails enthusiasm.
As a veteran of more than a dozen Gamma Ray gigs around the world, I’m not sure
I’ve ever seen one where the vibe was quite like this before. Small, hot,
happy and fired-up would be the best descriptors. The Rays were in fine
spirits too and were moving about the small stage as much as they possibly
could, jumping up and down, all smiles and sweat (Kai changed t-shirts three
times, it was so stifling in there). They had the audience eating out of
the palms of their hands from the beginning, whether playing old stuff like
“New World Order” or the totally awesome “Savior / Abyss of the Void”
(introduced by Kai as a song about the one we’re all waiting for, the one who
never comes) or newer material like “Empathy” and “Deadlands.” The
setlist was *exactly* like the one I had seen in Hamburg back in January 2010
for the first night of the tour, except that “New World Order” had been missing
on that chilly evening on the Reeperbahn but was back tonight.
Highlights? Well, there were too many to count, but a few come to
mind: the adrenaline-fueled hammerblow of “Armageddon,” the killer newbie
“Deadlands,” the segue from “Rebellion in Dreamland” into “Man on a Mission,”
the part where the band stopped “Man on a Mission” for a second to catch their
breaths and the audience kept belting out the chorus a capella, with Kai just
letting it go on and on, all smiles. Then there was the part during “To
the Metal” where Henjo suddenly recognized me, such that he reached down to
shake my hand as soon as the song ended. Before the first encore, Kai
passed me a bottle of water, which Jen and I guzzled down in seconds. And
at the end of the show, 105 minutes after it began, Kai took his last guitar
pick and plunked it right into my outstretched palm before leaving the
stage. Cool all the way around.
As much as I enjoyed this gig – and I enjoyed it a lot – there was one rather
substantial deterrent to my enjoyment. Yep, that accursed sound system /
mix. Basically, where Jen and I were standing we heard a whole shitload
of Henjo’s guitar and not much else. Sometimes Kai’s vocals and guitar
were completely inaudible from our vantage point. Moving was out of the
question given how jammed the floor was, so we made the best of it. I
decided early on that I would just use this gig as a rare opportunity to focus
on Henjo’s playing, and I was glad. I noticed all kinds of little melodic
licks and parts that he adds to songs during bridges, choruses, and outros,
stuff that had never really caught my ear. And he is quite a fluid and
smooth player too. Everything with Henjo is melodic speed and fire,
whereas Kai slows things down and goes by feel a lot more, playing fewer notes
with more feeling. They complement each other beautifully, and after
tonight I have a much better appreciation for Henjo’s work. So I did my
best to turn the negative of the crappy P.A. and mix into a positive.
Besides, there was still tomorrow night in Quebec City.
Setlist: Gardens of the Sinner, New World Order, Empathy, Deadlands, Fight, Mother Angel,
No Need to Cry, Savior / Abyss of the Void, drum solo, Armageddon, To the Metal,
Rebellion in Dreamland, Man on a Mission. Encore: I Want Out, Send Me a Sign.
By 10:35 p.m., the show was over and the metalheads began clearing the hall
immediately. A curtain was dropped over the stage as the roadies cleared
Gamma Ray’s gear as swiftly as possible. It soon became evident that the
Gamma Ray show was not the only event happening at Café Campus on this frigid
Saturday night in Montreal. By 10:50 p.m., a DJ had begun pumping
obnoxious techno dance music out of the sound system at an ear-splitting
volume, and little by little the metal crowd became supplanted by 20-something
coeds in skimpy cocktail dresses out for a night of dancing, clutching pitchers
of cheap beer as they mingled on the floor and grooved to the funky
beats. For our part, we were prisoners to this spectacle, because we were
still awaiting the VIP meet-and-greet we’d been promised. Commemorative
posters were passed around to the 70-80 of us who were participating and we
were shunted to the upstairs balcony area, all the better to observe the
horrific dance party unfolding before us. (Funny, dozens of dance-party
20-year old dudes sat alone up in that balcony with their own pitchers of cheep
beer, ogling the dancing coeds below and presumably trying to muster the
courage to ask them for their phone numbers or something.) By 11:15 or
so, three-quarters of Gamma Ray (everyone except for Daniel, who looked
positively exhausted and drenched in sweat by the end of the gig) had convened
at a table near the balcony, and a long line of VIPs snaked around the room to meet them.
Jen and I were practically at the very end of the line, so it must have taken
30-40 minutes (or maybe even longer) for us to get to the front. The
first Ray we encountered was Henjo, who immediately grinned and called out to
me, “It’s good to see you again,” before giving me a big hug. Dirk was
pretty reserved, and seemed pretty tired and bored with the whole meet-n-greet
thing, but he still signed our posters and took a photo with Jen. (She’s
always had a soft spot for him ever since he was so nice to us in 2001 when we
followed GR around Hungary and the Czech Republic, not that Dirk remembers us
today.) When I finally reached Kai, I didn’t say a word before he looked
at me and said, “I’ve seen you before.” I somewhat sheepishly mumbled
something about having seen the band in 7 different countries, and he said, “I
know. I know I’ve seen you at lots of shows before. Thanks so much
for coming.” I was really touched. At this point in my life, I’m
not much for idol worship or starry-eyed rockstar admiration or whatever.
So many times, the people we place on pedestals as heroes turn out to be
anything but. Nonetheless, Kai Hansen has a special place in my heart as
probably my favorite musician, so I felt honored by his kind words. Kai
also admired my St. Pauli shirt, and seemed pleased when I told him I’d bought
it the last time I saw Gamma Ray. “Oh, on the Reeperbahn?” he
asked. Jen took a quick photo of me with Kai, then we said our goodbyes
and melted out in the frigid air for the brisk walk back to our
bed’n’breakfast. What a great day in Montreal, and it was after 3 a.m.
before I finally came back down to earth enough to fall asleep.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Then the alarm went off at 6:30 a.m. Brutal. With the sound of Henjo’s
amplifiers still ringing through our ears, we groggily trudged out of bed,
grabbed our packs, and began the 30-minute walk across town to the Gare
Centrale (central train station of Montreal). It was a surreal experience
for us to be marching through the eerily quiet streets of Montreal this
morning. There were no cars, no pedestrians, just the sounds of our boots
crunching on the snow and ice and the feel of the chill (-10 degrees Celsius)
Canadian air on our cheeks in the gray semi-darkness. We reached the
train station without incident and, after a breakfast of a large Tim Horton’s
coffee and a donut, boarded our Via Rail train bound for Quebec City. The
three-hour train ride was smooth and comfortable, and by just after 11 a.m., we
tumbled out of our rail car onto the streets of Quebec.
The next few hours were a blur. We walked about 1 km to our hotel, the
Best Western Centreville, where we checked into an upgraded business class room
(nice, thanks Best Western!). After a quick trip to the grocery store to
buy lunch and beer, we found ourselves joining throngs of Quebecois lining the
downtown streets as the Winter Carneval parade went by, complete with gigantic
inflatable balloons bearing the likenesses of a Canadian moose, Nemo the fish,
and of course Bonhomme, the Winter Carnevale mascot who bears more than a
passing resemblance to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man of Ghostbusters
infamy. After the parade, we scurried across downtown, and made the long,
steep climb to the old part of Quebec to the Plains of Abraham, where all of
the Winter Carnevale events were laid out in all their splendor. Ya gotta
hand it to the people of Quebec: They are not impeded or fazed in the
slightest by the vicious cold weather. They just bundle up, get out
there, and play in the ice. A little frostbite never killed anyone,
right? Err, ummm, nevermind. There were snowrafting competitions
(with large inflatable river rafts careening down the mountain), ice
sculptures, an outdoor hot tub, and an active bar fashioned entirely out of
blocks of ice. Amazing. Sadly, we couldn’t tarry. After all,
we had a gig to attend. So by 4:30 p.m. or so, we beat feet back to the
hotel, where we had a lovely beer and a sandwich and rested for a bit.
We left the room just after 6 p.m., crazily enough, without coats as we headed
outside in the -15 degree evening air. But we didn’t need coats because
tonight’s venue, L’Imperial de Quebec, was literally right around the
corner. The Imperial is a gorgeous, stately old renovated theater that
holds roughly 1,100 people. It’s an absolutely stunning facility to see a
show, with a nicely sloped, tiered floor, great sightlines, and a cool balcony
(that was kept off limits on this night). Tonight there were probably 700
or 800 metalheads in the venue to see Gamma Ray, not a big enough crowd to pack
the place or make it feel uncomfortably crowded but a more than respectable
crowd nonetheless. Interestingly, we noted on the way in that Gamma Ray
had completely sold out of almost all their merchandise, as they had no girlies
or hats left, and their only t-shirts were in a size Small. Should have
printed up more merch, boys, because the Canadians bought everything they could
get their hands on.
Because we arrived shortly after the doors opened, there was no front-row space
for us tonight, but we settled into a nice spot second-row centerstage, which
promised to provide an outstanding vantage point for the night’s
festivities. There was an extraordinarily drunk, tattoo-covered woman
standing next to us. She kept stumbling into us, and at one point she
spilled some of her beer on my head as she raised it aloft. Nice.
It didn’t take me long to understand why we’d gotten such a great spot on the
floor: No one else wanted to stand next to this idiot woman.
Fortunately, she disappeared long before the opening acts were done, leaving us
with a great view and no further troubles, interruptions or beer-soakings of any kind.
Promptly at 7:00 p.m., the first band, Aeternam, came out on stage.
Definitely a bit more of an extreme band than we’d seen the night before, they
combined death/black metal with exotic Middle-Eastern sounding melodies.
Not my favorite style, but their music was enjoyable enough in the small dose of
a 30-minute set, especially with those Eastern melodic twists they
incorporated. Oh, and they all wore too much black eyeliner, a look that
rarely works for men.
When Merkabah took the stage at around 7:50 p.m., I feared the
worst. None of them looked anything like the others. One guitar
player had long hair and stood by himself on one side of the stage, mostly
looking awkward. The other guitarist had short graying hair, and the
bassist had a semi-mohawk punk rock kind of thing going. Then there was
the singer, a chick decked out in a rather exotic black dress kind of thing
that left her midriff exposed. My expectations of disaster were quelled
instantly when they started to play. Their music was actually really
cool. To my ears, it sounded like U.S. type traditional heavy/power metal
with loads of guitars, plenty of dynamics in the music, and a powerhouse female
vocalist who sounded at least a bit like Sabrina from Seven Kingdoms.
There were various orchestrations and effects being flown in from the drummer’s
laptop, but I scarcely noticed them. Merkabah’s music was pretty
captivating, and I walked away so impressed that I bought a CD from their
guitarist (the short-haired guy, a very nice bloke by the way) for $12 at the
end of the night. That disc dates back to 2007, but I’ll bet their
forthcoming new one will be better, judging by the material I heard
tonight. It also helped that the crowd was quite familiar with and
supportive of Merkabah, judging by the Merkabah t-shirts sprinkled throughout
the crowd, the people singing along with lyrics, and the eager audience
participation whenever the singer encouraged it.
When the lights went dark again at 9:00 p.m., it was Gamma Ray
time. My first surprise was that when the intro tape started, it wasn’t
the familiar strains of “Welcome.” Nope, tonight the “Welcome” tape was
preceded by Queen’s “We Will Rock You.” Not sure why, but it seemed
fitting. Then it was off to the races for the next two hours of live
Gamma Ray, comin’ at ya. Lots of things were the same as last
night: The band were dressed the same, the setlist was largely the same,
Dan’s drum solo was the same, and so on. But lots of things were
different, too. For starters, the sound quality and mix were vastly
superior tonight than at that Café Campus hellhole in Montreal. Every
instrument and voice was fully audible, and the mix was well-balanced and
clear. Ahhhhh. So I could hear every word that Kai was singing
tonight, unlike last night. Even though he was straining a bit (he
acknowledged as much, saying something about Arctic winds getting caught in his
throat), he still sounded like vintage Kai, cutting loose with full power,
screams and all, throughout the gig. Another positive change tonight was
that the gig felt more relaxed, less rushed. Kai talked a bit more in
between songs (for example, dedicating “Mother Angel” to everyone’s dead
relatives, friends, soldiers and so on, who we may see again someday but may
not), the solo parts were looser, longer and more improvised (hell, they even
threw in a portion of “Heading for Tomorrow” in the middle of “Man on a
Mission”). During the encores, Henjo teased us by playing the intro to
“Future World,” although they didn’t actually play the song. What was
really different about the encores tonight was that as soon as they came back on
stage, Kai announced, “It’s time for some old shit. You motherfuckers ready to
‘Ride the Sky’?” And we did. And it was glorious. To hear one
of my all-time favorite songs added into the setlist tonight, and performed so
magnificently, was worth the trip to Quebec all by itself.
Based on the above, you’re probably thinking that I’m gonna say the Quebec City
gig annihilated the Montreal gig. But the funny thing is that it
didn’t. Something was missing tonight in Quebec City. The room
didn’t have that electric energy that marked the Montreal crowd. Most
times when I looked around tonight, I saw people just standing around. I
never got jostled. Jen didn’t even take an elbow to her coconut tonight.
Don’t get me wrong: The audience cheered. They sang
along. They made noise. But it wasn’t an insane, off-the-hook crowd
like last night, even though tonight’s audience probably more than doubled last
night’s in terms of sheer numbers. Weird. Perfect example:
Recall that in Montreal, when the band paused in “Man on a Mission,” the crowd
just kept singing the chorus, on and on, over and over again, with no prompting
whatsoever from the band. Tonight, at the exact same moment, the crowd
just cheered for a few seconds then stopped, leaving the band to jump in and
proceed with the song largely without our help. I never would have
suspected the vibes in the two venues to be so drastically different on back to
back nights with the same band playing the same set, but there it was. I
suppose that’s the beauty of live music. As Forrest Gump would say, it’s
kinda like a box of chocolates: You never know what you’re going to get.
What we got at the end of tonight’s show was much like what we got at the end of
last night’s show. Jen caught a bottle of water thrown from the stage
(actually, she was trying to duck as Dirk tossed it in the audience, and it
somehow ended up at her feet), and I ended up with another Kai guitar
pick. Cool. We hadn’t signed up for the meet’n’greet tonight (hey,
it gets expensive to keep shelling out $30 VIP surcharges for every ticket), so
when the show ended, we slowly made our way out the front door, went around the
corner to the Best Western, settled back into our plush accommodations with a
couple of delicious Canadian brews, and wondered if we’d imagined the whole experience.
Setlist: Gardens of the Sinner, New World Order, Empathy, Deadlands, Fight, Mother Angel,
No Need to Cry, Savior/Abyss of the Void, drum solo, Armageddon, To the Metal,
Rebellion in Dreamland, Man on a Mission (with part of Heading for
Tomorrow). Encores: Ride the Sky, I Want Out, Send Me a Sign.