>>PREVIEW
THE JAMES MURETICH MEMORIAL CABARET
Huevos Rancheros, Forbidden Dimension, Chixdiggit, Smokin’ 45s
Saturday, May 26th
South Calgary Community Centre
He was infamous for the things he tossed – words of praise and criticism onto the pages of Calgary newspapers, ice cubes at bands onstage at the old Westward Club and his cookies once in Technicolor glory outside Hollywood’s Whiskey-a-Go-Go after seeing Yo La Tengo play (but for once, this was not about his opinion of the music). When beloved Calgary music writer James Muretich died of brain cancer last September at age 54, the whole city suddenly felt monochromatic.
Never one to be bashful, Muretich loved telling the Whiskey story, and would bring it up over and over after a few scotch whiskies (usually Grant’s, because it was cheaper, but he loved all the Glens). In fact, he loved telling all kinds of stories, especially if he was in them. So, as some of the man’s favourite bands gather in a memorial concert to raise funds for a scholarship for Mount Royal College journalism students , Fast Forward gathered a few stories from the people who knew him.
· Greg Curtis, promoter, University of Calgary – I remember driving down with James to Infest, a rather large independent rock festival at the incredibly dusty High River Rodeo Grounds. After we arrive there, somewhat addled with various intoxicants, James strips down to his tight black Speedo and black canvas high-tops and slathers his alabaster skin in sunscreen. This was in an age when shaving one's head, as James had done, was considered weird. As we proceeded to meander around the site, all the time James taking notes for his upcoming story, we seemed to be subject to an abnormal number of jeers regarding his appearance. Having had enough of this, James bellows out, to no one in particular, ‘What’s the matter?! Can't a guy wear his swimsuit anymore?’
· Kerry Clarke, Artistic Director, Calgary Folk Music Festival
He was doing his radio program on his birthday, so I decided it would be a great idea to cycle up to CJSW with a frozen pie that I was going to give him. By the time I arrived with the pie on my bike, it didn't look much like something a person would eat. Between how it looked and the shit-eating grin on my face, he was quite suspicious. So when I tried to present it to him, before I could cram it in his face, he grabbed me. Wrestling ensued and the cheap Safeway pie was spread around the studio and on both James and me.
Then, of course, there's the time James stripped down for the funding drive, made us a schwack of money and shocked some folks who'd never seen him nude ! (Writers note: What, there was someone in Calgary who had not seen him nude? I don’t think so.)
· Tom Bagley, Forbidden Dimension – James was one of those guys who on one hand was a crazy-outta-control wild man, but he was also pretty good at being a relatively focused, enthusiastic guy you could just yak about different types of rock with, usually old-timey punk/garage-type stuff, in my case. James was also one of the few city paper music critics who didn't out-and-out pan heavy metal concerts, like most of his predecessors. He saw it for what it was/is, recognized that there was a rabid fan base, that it served a purpose and was lots of fun, if done up right. One opportunity I always have regretted missing out on was when he had contacted me about accompanying him to go interview Eric Bloom of Blue Öyster Cult, one of my heroes, but I was out of town at the time (I had hepped him to that band's Patti Smith/Richard Meltzer connections). Boy, was I pissed!
· Brent Cooper, Huevos Rancheros – My favourite James memory might seem a bit mundane, but I really loved watching FM Moving Pictures on Cable 10. This is where I was introduced to James and, in turn, introduced to a lot of great music. No Sunday was complete without the show. James's passion for music and its artists was obvious, outweighing his dubious haircut and sometimes lengthy off-topic rambles. I have loads of James anecdotes, like the time he bear hugged me on the dance floor and lifted me up into the air at the Tailgator's show in some wacky bar on MacLeod Trail in the early-’90s. Or the time he kissed, bit, sat on, yelled, drooled, or whatever on, at or near me. Then there's the time we argued about the Smithereens and the Knack's first album. Me: for. Him: against. He later recanted about the Smithereens.
· Richie Lazarowich, Huevos Rancheros – I have a lot of fond memories of James. There are all the social ones – he kissed me and grabbed my butt more times than I care to admit. Whenever he came to one of our shows I knew it would end up being a crazy night. He had a standing invitation to be our maraca man whenever we played but he never took us up on it. He probably just didn’t want to show us up.
He really helped Huevos throughout our history, and it really opened doors and legitimized what we were doing. He always took big brother-like shots at me for fun in our interviews. He made us sound like rock stars. I think he liked us because we were so anti-music industry like he was.
He was a true rock ’n’ roll journalist who took a punk rock approach to writing even though he wrote for a conservative newspaper. There was one show I remember where we were opening up for some lame Toronto band. They were on a major label that was promoting them big time. On the day of this show he wrote a big, long paragraph about how great Huevos Rancheros were and how we were an honest and genuine rock ’n’ roll band. He really played it up and then ended the section with the fact that we were opening for the _____. That’s the only time he mentioned their name in the whole column! Needless to say, they were pissed off and treated us like crap. It was James’s way of telling them, their label and everyone that they were crap – the whole silence-speaks-volumes thing. That really was James though – honest and passionate.
· Mike Fury, Smokin’ 45s – He once described my voice as sounding like ‘Eddy Cochran in hell.’ Best compliment I ever received. I remember him as an iconic supporter of the local scene and a fella who was enthusiastic enough to rub his head on your shoes, if they were nice shoes, as he did once when I was opening for Teenage Head at the Westward Club.
· Ian Chiclo, CJSW, VOX, Fast Forward – One of my fave memories with James was always the Jazz Festival launch party. In the late-’80s and early-’90s these things were always in the afternoon at some bar or hotel. While James and I crossed paths regularly at the Westward, parties, record stores, etc., I always enjoyed our time together at these events. James, like myself, was a big jazz fan, but these mid-afternoon events were a bit stodgy. As you might imagine, not many of James's regular ‘rock ’n' roll’ club attended, but that also gave him a chance to relax with no pretension. We'd hang out on some sunny patio, talk jazz, drink a few drinks. He was always relaxed, genuine... a big sweetie. Sure, later that week he might be sticking his tongue in my ear at the Westward, but those afternoons were magical. After a few years went by, I began to realize that he genuinely enjoyed hanging out on those afternoons when there wasn't anything to prove (I'm sure he had filed his copy days before hand). Once, he nearly cried when he told me how much he enjoyed spending time together at those events. James was always a showman, a thick veneer splattered over his true self. On those afternoons – and maybe drinking champagne and OJ on a Sunday morning – I felt that I got a rare glimpse of the real James, which means I could put up with an occasional tongue in the ear. |
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