Rheostatics R.I.P.

King of the Past

Lyrics by Tim Vesely and Dave Bidini

Check your watch; You're fourteen and more.
Here lies a road not travelled before.
Down in the cellar there's beer on your breath.
And up off the floor; did you let him explore?

Check your map. You're Louis Riel.
He rode a horse before you were born.
Out in the flatland the money's all spent.
And out in the field your fate has been sealed.

I'm the King of the Past but still I walk forward.
I won't close my eyes to the passing of time.
I'm in Fredericton Northern where the rivers make borders,
But planes fly right over them.

Check your map 'cause you've lost your watch.
It's buried under snow. Its time does not stop.
Find your way homeward.The rivers are freezing,
And under the ice the borders are changing.

I'm the King of the Past but still I walk forward.
I step over hundreds of years yet to come.
While the eyes in the back of my head draw no borders,
Just rivers that channel the rain.

Martin

A Mid Winter's Night Dream

Lyrics by Martin Tielli

In the Winter.
In the Winter's time.
Sidewalk shrinking... and you?
TV's twinkling.
The sky cushioned my ditch with a couch of snow.
So soft. So deep and so cold.
And you?

Sweet sweet silence.
I'm already gone.
Pleased to meet you.
You speckled my throat like a junkie'd prick,
So cold, so blue, and shallow.

It hiss like snow do
As though fish's could know any better
Underneath the ice in suspension.
It feels like your mouth.
A drip of spit on the end of your tongue
Falls into the ice and cracks like thunder
And a dream I had of girders
And an abandoned truck in the underground parking lot
With the keys in the ignition.

If I be the crane, if you be the site inspector
Who had a scotch at lunch and a problem with his wife.
You didn't notice
The truck, the wires,
The white silence of the coming blue fires,
The sabotage of a giant thing that would benefit the workers.

It's all too much.
A spirit can't sink any deeper
Into dope, dope, dope, and submission.

It's a dream I have.
Yeah, it's what I think I know.
'Cause if all this pain and endless anger has somewhere to go...

If I had the permit to, all hail Leo Copter!

And you would like my face.You would like my face.

Sweet, sweet silence. I'm already gone.

Dave

Horses

Lyrics by Dave Bidini

Word came down and it crashed through my doorFrom the twenty-first floor.
I was thinking about leaving early for lunchWhen he told me to shut off my press.
His face turned green and his white shirt was wetLike he'd just seen an accident.
We threw our masks into a pile.The trucks pulled away for good.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

A bus pulled in, and I waved at it,Before I knew what it was.
We ran in its tracks, chasing its tires,But the gates had been riveted shut.
I looked for the foreman: His number was empty.Up to Red Deer to stay.
We gathered some signs and we sparked up a fire.
Gordie got burned on the high-voltage wire.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

The first thing she'll ask me is: "How did it go today?"And I'll tell her.

I thought there was strength in a union.I thought there was strength in a mob.
I thought the company was bluffing,When they threatened to chop us off.
Ah, these guns will wilt, the winter will seize,And all the bonfires will go out.
The company knows when they can afford to be bold.
I wish I could, I wish I could, I wish I could.

Holy Mackinaw Joe.

We are the horses...

Martin on Bass

The Tarleks

Lyrics by Martin Tielli

(... And wherever they go,There is light all around,
And a brilliant sound.It's a brilliant sound.)

The Tarleks came.
From the west--they grooved.
White belts shining in the pounding sun.
They came from Cincinnati-O,Fanning out across the central plains.
A car with leather windows,
They drive with arms akimbo,
All night long.

He shook my hand under the bathroom stall.
("Hi there. Pleased to meet you.")
He said, "You seem like the poetic kind.
You rarely speak, but when you do it shines.You seek out the beautiful things.

You think the deeper thoughts.
You choose the times you talk.
We could use a couple of people like you,
Cause there's only so much we can do."

Call me naive. Call me pathetic.
But it's just enough cryptic that the morons won't get it.
See how they groove?

They were everyone's uncles... everyone's friends.
We pulled their fingers,
all,
night,
long.
And when the lamp shades were all trampled and broken,
The eldest one said, "It's time to go to bed."
We couldn't get enough. It's a new kind of love!All-in-one!

I got a message and it came from up above.
It's just so cryptic that a moron could get it.

... And out of the sky a single raindrop kissed my cheek and hit the ground running.
We'll follow it to the gutters out into the ocean... If we split up, they might not catch us.

The Tarleks came.
From the west they grooved.
White belts shining in the pounding sun.

(... And wherever they go,There is light all around.
It's a beautiful sound...It's a brilliant sound.)

http://www.rheostatics.ca/media/tarleks_medium.mov

All good things must come to an end...

By the end of this week, the band Rheostatics, as we know them, will be no more. For over 20 years the three prinicpal members and songwriters (Martin Tielli, Dave Bidini, and Tim Vessely) along with a few amazing drummers, producers, and guest musicans have created a legacy of music that remains unparalelled in Canadian history. Their albums have gone from folky prog. rock, to catchy pop, to instrumental concept abums, to playful children's story, hard rock, and back again. The distinctive and often contrasting styles of Martin, Dave, and Tim add a richness to every Rheostatics album, and the contrasts are evident on stage as well. Perhaps it is their diverging interests in the last few years that have lead them to finally bring things to an end. And what a more fitting farewell than a packed show at Massey Hall in Toronto this Friday?

This week's photos are from a Rheostatics concert 3 years ago at the Horseshoe Tavern. I'll also be including lyrics from some of their songs.



Coincidentally, I think they were playing the following song when I took this photo:

Here Comes the Image

Lyrics by Tim Vesely


Busy making preparations for the coming,
Busy passing on down the line.
To such an awesome responsibility,
We most devote our lives.

Look at all the fancy buildings we can visit.
Notice all the fine detail in stone.
Light is also our priority here.
Colors on the glass delight the eye.

There in the desert night, a-glow in the focal eye.
Slow, the computer screen warms until morning rain.

Who foretells the truest story of the coming?
Wherein lies the soundest house?
Such has been the bone of much contention.
It's worthy of our lives.

There under polar white, humming by megawatts.
Grains slowly take their place. Here comes the image now.

Busy making calculations of the coming.
Pride is taken on by nerves.
Maybe we weren't meant to solve such mystery.
Light upon the glass horrifies.

There under starry sky, dome takes its rightful pose.
Story's going to get a close. Here comes the image now.