We will announce some new dates in Toronto and Montreal shortly to make up for this. Thanks for your understanding.

Joe has rule and this is never to be broken. No one under any circumstance backs up the van and trailer except him. I like that rule and I abide by it. After all, Joe could back the thing through a virgins legs and she would never notice. He has many talents and guitar is only one of them. But for some reason our most trusted friend and a man that I could write a book about, decided that this rule did not apply to him. We call him Kawi and he is strange guy.

Kawi has been our buddy for almost the entirety of our career. He started by filming shows and doing merch, and eventually began loading gear and now has stage tech duties. He seems to live in a universe far from the one we all do, but Kawi is always there to help us through anything. It was somewhere in Northern Ontario when the rest of us were asleep that he decided to turn the van around for a gas stop he missed. While backing up, Kawi managed to jack knife the van and trailer to the point the rear frame on the van broke off. Not only once, but twice. He must not of heard the smash the first time, but either way the damage was spectacular. We didn't notice at first the extent of the accident which could of been much worse considering we drove 6 more hours to Thunder Bay with the rear frame practically dragging on the ground. When we did realize what had actually taken place, the tour became less of an adventure and more of a catastrophe.

However, luck was somewhat on our side. Our tour manager had a friend in Thunder Bay and he let us leave our now useless trailer in his driveway. The idea was far from convenient though. Now we had to fit all our gear in the van and get rid of everything else. No more bed in the back, no food, no pillows, no blankets, no extra anything. Just our gear needed to perform, six guys and five seats. One guy had to sit on the floor between the door, the gear and the seat. Considering the first show was in Calgary and we were still in Ontario, that "Boot camp" drive was looking a hell of a lot longer than we were expecting. To say that it was extremely painful would not do the drive justice. It was fucking hell. In fact the shitty motels we stayed in were all I could think about between drives.

We made it though. And we could report back that not only did we complete boot camp, but that we were ready to tour Alaska if need be! Well… as long as no one but Joe backs up the van and trailer.

Ballz

We titled it "The Guerilla Rock Show". It would take a little planning and a few lucky breaks to make happen but the show would no doubt be the building blocks for what Hail The Villain would pride itself on doing and that is the unexpected.

First we were going to need a generator. You can't exactly plug into an outlet in the middle of the street. Since we didn't have access to a flat bed truck we needed to find a pick up truck that would hold the drums and the amps. Fortunately, a friend of the band had an old Ford that could do the job and with bungie cords we would be able to hold most of the gear in place. Also, we were going to need some loyal workers to drive the truck to its destination, some to film the event so we could prove that it happened, and others to keep quiet but show up on time for the would be spectacle.

Now we would have to devise a plan. The date would be Thanksgiving weekend so all the university students would be back in town to crowd the club scene and downtown streets. Not much point in playing for nobody. There was a parking spot that was directly across from the bar that a friend would need to occupy all day so that it would be our stage when the big moment arrived. An abandoned parking lot up north would be the setting for an outdoor soundcheck and a back alley close to the bar would be ideal for last minute preparations. With that, all we had left to do was tell a few friends to spread the word the day of the show and have a couple of buddies infiltrate the night club to tell its well dressed patrons to come outside and join in the ruckus.

The big day came and Chad and I dyed our hair different shades of blue. It looked dumb but so the fuck what, this whole idea was far from smart anyway! Joe's brother got us a deal on the generator and he spent the whole day getting the gear tied down and the truck ready for the show. A friend parked my car in the spot across from the club and we dropped by every few hours to feed the meter. Small town parking officers are real cock suckers and towing a vehicle would have made their year. All we could do now was wait and hope that nothing was missed which always seems to happen when you think you've done everything possible to prepare.

Nightfall arrived and the nerves began to set in. We took our circus on wheels to the abandoned parking lot and found that all was working the best it could despite only having one vocal speaker that just barely pushed enough air to be heard. It wasn't going to sound great but neither do mp3's and no one seems to mind them. It was time to take the show to the back alley to prepare for what was to be our first gig and all we could think about was whether or not we would even get a song in before the police shut the whole show down, not to mention the high chance that we would be arrested and have our gear confiscated.

While sitting in the parking lot Joe decided to do a check to make sure nothing had gotten fucked up on the drive over. It was then that a cop car made its way down the alley way to see what the hell was going down. It didn't look good with 15 people gathered around a truck full of gear that was all strapped down. The officers stopped the car and asked for our plan. We told them we had a show at the club and we were just getting ready to move our shit in. They bought the lie and asked if we played any Metallica so Joe serviced them a few acoustic riffs and the less than stellar cops were on their way to beat up drunks and do whatever it is they do.

This was our time. We had to go now. Fire up the generator, turn on the truck, signal the car to exit the parking spot, turn on the amps, man positions on the drums and hatch of the truck! It was going to happen right now!

We peeled out onto the busy street and jumped off the truck to a small awaiting audience and many unsuspecting street passengers. Drew started the first song but Joe wasn't ready. I quickly made haste to cover up the premature intro as a small soundcheck and soon enough we were into a song that I honestly can say I can't remember. The street began to fill up and cars would stop to get a glimpse. The owners of the night club would watch in disbelief as this "no named" rock band was stealing it's patrons to the non paying street. People were hanging out of their windows and we were killing it. No one knew what the fuck just hit them.

We played three songs and hopped back on the truck to be driven away without incident. For the next few months our band was all anyone in the scene could talk about. Not because we were good (because that was far from the case!) but because it was totally unexpected. It felt good. From that point on even the dumbest of ideas were at least worth trying. The sweetest part however, was pure and simple revenge.