Lacombe Over

Hello there, good friends & fans.... this here is The Unvarnished Truth; meant to soothe the soul, scratch the brain and cure all manner of ailments, impalements and bad manners.

Mucous Pocus

It's the time you've been waiting for... it is time to read! You know.... that thing we used to do a lot when we were innocent, young sponges? Another fun activity in our youth was getting outside to play. And like snot-nosed little boys with their loud toys, that's exactly what yours truly and the gentlemen players of Punch Drunk Cabaret did this past Saturday.

The playground was in lovely, old Lacombe, Alberta for the Alberta's Own indie music fest. Once again we called upon the services of Kevin, our road manager/parole officer (heretofore known as The Colonel, Sheriff, K-Rock, Kevlar, Snoop Kevvy Kev, etc).

Simiantics And Other Bull

After a short rehearsal at PDC HQ to tweak the day's abbreviated setlist, we bounded onto the metal steed Enterprise and headed out on the highway for the distant land of Lacombe. It wasn't particularly distant. 'Twas barely a decent conversation on the Enterprise (with topics like provincial domination, bass string tension and the definition of the word "monkeyshine") and suddenly we were there.

Festivals are fun... big crowds, the great outdoors, golf cart escorts.... that really says you've made it when you're chaperoned everywhere around the site. Either that or you can't be trusted. I'm not sure which.

Arriving about 4:30, we observed a veritable hustle and/or bustle of activity. There were vendors' tents and their wares, a VIP section and campers a-plenty. And a mechanical bull ride! Friends, I tell you that my heart leapt with girlish glee just thinking of a way we could convince  Rev. Eklund to ride that thing. He's a drummer. And drummers, as you may know, are prone to all kinds of mischief and monkeyshine! Would the good Reverend "make 8" today? Sadly, no.


After surveying the site and with ample time before our set (scheduled for 8:10), the boys and I were feeling a might peckish. Nothing tackles peckishness like a good ol' fashioned feedbaggin'. This sounds dirty but it's not. Mind your monkeyshine!

They were roasting a whole pig in the VIP area so we walked over, plunked our peckish posteriors down, gave thanks for the brave swine who gave his life for us and stuffed ourselves stupid.

Grand Canyon

Today's headliner was the pride of Pictou, Nova Scotia -- country star, George Canyon. The only other place we could see a big canyon was in Arizona so I looked forward to a sighting right here in Lacombe.

Another festival, another atmosphere of backstage chaos as bands and crew worked harder than a monkeyshine to keep things running smooth (Editor's Note: I don't think you're using that word properly anymore).

Our set was only 25 minutes, Ringleader Randy and I were forced by the house techs to change our usual stage spots and, of course, no sound check. But despite those First World problems, your steadfast heroes weathered the storm and proceeded to pummel the patrons with a non-stop, high energy, Punch Drunk assault, guaranteed to make your monkey shine!

A pleasant surprise after a well-received set of steampunk swingin' rockarolla was at the merchandise table. By evening's end we found that we had sold more swag than anyone that day including Mr. Canyon (the Pictou, not the Arizona) hisself. That certainly warmed the cockles on a cool night in Lacombe. And speaking of warm cockles....

Keeping Abreast Of The Facts

Ol' Sawbones had the honor and pleasure of signing a female mammary gland (my first with this minstrel group). Janelle was very nice and giggly and I tried my best to perform this task with the utmost gentlemanly grace and panache. Although not a regular occurence, this is a free service that I will dutifully provide upon request. Sometimes you have to take one for the team. Or autograph one in this case.

Garter Snakes

Making new debuts at the merch table: buttons and garters! For a mere pittance you can own an official Punch Drunk Cabaret Deluxe Button Set featuring your fave fashionable fops all done up like The Ghost of Heebie-Jeebie! Also available are PDC garters. No home should be without one! The perfect accoutrement for Klondike events, intimate encounters or shining your monkey.


 - a 300 lb, overall-wearing Motorhead fan sporting long braids a la Bo Derek circa 1980. He later upgraded his attire to rastafarian pyjamas.

 - a group of intimidating young musicgoers dubbed the "Klassy Mofos". I did what they asked, without question. Far be it from me to mess with a gang, let alone a cute lil teenaged one.

 - the sight of a white-robed Ringleader Randy shuffling around the festival grounds at dawn looking like a mental patient escapee.

 - a certain blustery, ranting and demanding drummer when he runs out of smokes at nine in the morning. Nothin' funnier!



Thanks to the great folks at Alberta's Own: Rob, Eric et al, the many photographers whose work we're anxious to see and share, the pig-roastin' hospitality group and beloved paying customers.

Once again, dear friends, another day in the life of the carnival that is PDC comes to a close. Festival season's end for us is also drawing near. This doesn't mean we're inactive. On the contrary, all you have to do is go to the Showtimes link of this here website to find out just what kinda crazy monkeyshine we're up to!

And that, friends, is the unvarnished truth.