Styles come and go. I'm no slave to fashion, but every now and then I try to make sure I'm "with it". I don't even really know what that means, but the bottom line is I try to make sure I look good, in appropriate scenarios. Most people know what to wear in what situation, and I think I have a pretty good grasp on that. (Otherwise I hope those in my inner circles would give me friendly pointers) But throughout the years, there's been one staple hanging in my closet, or folded in my dresser: the black t-shirt.
In terms of comfort, it's a given. Nothing beats it. But there's no broader template for painting the picture that is you. It could be something you picked up at a show. Or a stinging political statement. Even as simple as the trademark of one of your favourite bars. Hell, it could be just a solid sexy black t-shirt. You can say a million things just by choosing which one you want to wear that day.
The first band t-shirt I ever owned was plastered with a cover shot of Def Leppard's Hysteria album. I was only about nine years old when my parents gave it to me, but I loved it so much I wore it right out. I am not ashamed at all admitting Def Leppard was my favourite band at the time. And whenever I wore that shirt, it was a little injection of rock n' roll into my relatively simple rez upbringing. It made me feel really cool.
But my next black t-shirt was a genuine trophy. It was from the first concert I ever went to. When I was in Grade 9, my aunt bought me and my cousin tickets to see The Black Crowes at Varsity Arena in Toronto. It was a night of firsts for me. First time hearing a live rock band. First time experiencing the concert vibe. First time learning what marijuana smelled like. So naturally, I had to by a tour shirt. Again, I wore that one out, and was made fun of for wearing it so much. But for me, it was a trophy. Something I sported proudly, chest puffed up and out, letting everyone know that I was at one of the shows listed on the back.
And shirts like that came and went over the years. As I got older, and more politically involved, some of the black t-shirts I picked up carried bold statements like "Indian Holocaust 1492-?". Slogans I continue believe to the core, but have since succumbed to the fallibility that is "100% cotton". Still, they said more than I could, and I didn't even have to open my mouth.
The last one I bought was from Slayer's summer tour through the Prairies. And it's been a long time since I bought a shirt at a show, and was able to proudly show it off as a quasi-accomplishment. But for now it'll take its place amongst the rest, waiting to be called upon to slide over my skin and show who I am, and what I'm into. And keep me looking somewhat "cool", depending on who you ask.
Winding and swift. Or stoic and looming. People live where the water is, and that's the way it's always been. And this water defines who we are; how we came to be, and why we're here. Riverside camps, seaside ports, and lake portage bases. Each unique in their own right, and some have maintained as vibrant and viable communities for hundreds of years.
Toronto is one of them. Established as the mighty Fort York on the shores of windy Lake Ontario, it warded off the onslaught from the south, and carried on as the gathering point that it is today. Winnipeg is another - where a progressive, unified and diverse society was created at the forks of two rivers; borne out of a strong sense of defiance and rebellion.
But today, as both cities have firmly established themselves within the edict of Canadian identity and history, they couldn't be more different. Obviously, size is a huge factor - with the GTA weighing in at around 5 million, and Winnipeg a mere fraction of that at 700,000. There is an intense influx into both cities of newcomers from a variety of circumstances. They are both in a state of constant change. But there is one thing that sets the two apart, and that is identity.
These are the only two Canadian big cities that I've live in. And both have been huge eye-openers. Whereas Torontonians think they are setting the pace for what Canada is, Winnipeg experiences it to a more distinct degree. There is an identity here that Toronto has long lost. One of staying in touch with roots; knowing where the community came from and where it is going. A city that has historically made its mark standing up to what Canada is, and grudgingly becoming a part of it.
With becoming that "one" Canadian urban metropolis, Toronto has lost those original ideals it was based on. Not many people are friendly in the streets anymore. People have forgotten that Toronto means "meeting place", in some dying, distant language. Sure, these are broad, sweeping generalizations, but it's what sets that now-urban sprawl apart from this bastion of community on the Prairies. People here might not necessarily be proud of that, but it's an impenetrable sense of being that I have yet to experience in any other Canadian city.
The winters are cold and windy. Floods devastate the new hopes of the springtime months. And summer brings the unwelcome winged annoyances. But these waters move fast along the Assiniboine and Red rivers. They have no time to sit and bask in their supposed self-righteous might. They flow, and evolve with their ever-changing surroundings. Yet at the same time, a rush of these river waters always seems to cycle back.
My good buddy Caaleb's idea, harvested yet again. Let me know what you're digging on the music scene. I'm all EARS.
And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead
Black Keys
Constantines
Dead Indians
Eagles of Death Metal
Flaming Lips
Gomez
Hot Snakes
Iggy Pop
James Brown
Kinks
Leonard Cohen
MASTODON
Neil Young
Oasis
Public Enemy
Queens of the Stone Age
Reverend Horton Heat
Skinny Puppy
TOOL
Until This Day
Valery Gore
WEEN
X-Status
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Zero 7