The Last Pogo Jumps Again

Lance Charles channels the spirit of Groucho Marx.

We dialed up the Wayback machine to 1973, and in front of the decaying Roxy Theatre, at Greenwood and Danforth, just 246 giant steps from the Greenwood subway station in Toronto,  The Last Pogo Jumps Again directors Brunton and Paputts, along with new Pogo crew member Joe Krumins spent some time with David “Lance Charles” Glincman.

For those of you who remember The Original 99 Cent Roxy, you couldn’t forget Lance.   When Gary Topp ran the Roxy back in the early/mid seventies, Lance was one of the Roxy irregulars, another eccentric who hung out there and took in the music and movies.  The Roxy was one of the main seeds of the punk scene in Toronto, where people were turned on nightly to movies and music they’d never seen or heard before.  Along with a rep for being at the forefront of what we used to call the “underground”, (remember that?!) the Roxy was infamous for being the place in Toronto where it was cool to smoke dope and take psychedelics.   Add up those elements, and its no wonder Raving Mojos‘ frontman Blair Richard Martin called the Roxy “The place where I learned to be cool.”

Colin Brunton, Barack Obamas, and David Glincman in the Obama Cafe.

Like many of the artists and characters we’ve interviewed for this project over the past few years, Lance could not say enough about the cultural impact that Gary Topp has had on Toronto, citing the introduction to Toronto audiences of films like El Topo and Holy Mountain and Zachariah (which he has somehow found a DVD version of) and bands like The Police and The Ramones and on and on.  Clearly, Toronto wouldn’t be what it is now without the cultural guidance of Mr. Topp.

Back in those early seventies, whether it be an all-night movie marathon or a weekend night, 500+ stoned cinephiles would wait in a line-up that would snake around the corner, and they would often be entertained by Lance, with a fake nose and glasses, doing a manic imitation of Groucho Marx.  His audience, the line-up, would either react by crying with laughter — or screaming in anger.  And that’s pretty cool.   Lance would also introduce movies to the stoned audience:   bottles would fly, tears of laughter would drip to the sticky floor, and Lance would pop in and out from behind the glorious drapery that covered the screen.  There was nothing quite like being looped on organic mescaline and witnessing Lance in all his glory.

Lance kept up the friendship (although there was a brief ugly period when Roxy co-operator Jeff Silverman “banned” him from the theatre.  One night during the screening of a flick, the sound was interrupted by Jeff’s voice booming over the p.a. system:  “Lance Charles.  If Lance Charles is the audience, please leave the theatre now.  Lance Charles, please leave the theatre now.”   According to Lance, that momentary battle was won due to an intervention by Gary, and he stayed to enjoy the films.)  He hung out at Gary Topp’s next venue, The New Yorker and then the Horsehoe and after that The Edge.   These days Lance calls himself a journalist, and enjoys his apartment on the waterfront and going to the movies.  On the back of his business card it says:  “I use words and I don’t know what they mean.”

Invited by Gary Topp to be a guest emcee at The Last Pogo, Lance didn’t make it the first night (The Last Pogo), but did manage to make an appearance the second night (The Last Bound-up), and introduced Drastic Measures and his favourite band from the time The Everglades.   One of Lance’s proudest moments was when Stephen Davies and others from The Everglades came to watch Lance Charles Rocks perform at the old Cabana Room.

Today we spent a couple of hours with Lance, our lengthy interview broken up by a breakfast break at the Obama Cafe, and it appears as though Lance hasn’t changed a bit, albeit a bit…uh…stockier.  He told naughty stories, drifted off into wild tangents, and belted out an original tune  (“Hookers are a Loser’s Best Friend”) to the shock and/or amusement of passersby on the Danforth, and then sang a couple of more tunes in the restaurant during the breakfast break (and with the regular cook away for the day, worst breakfast ever!) He recounted seeing Breathless and Nash the Slash perform at the Roxy, counted Greg Godowitz and Bob Segarini as fans, and spoke of what it meant to be Lance Charles.

“I didn’t need drugs.  I was Lance Charles.  People would smoke lots of pot hoping to become like me, but there was only one Lance Charles.  Everyone wanted the Lance Charles vibe,” he told us.

One vivid memory director Colin Brunton had of Lance was being invited, along with Silverman and Topp, to see Lance Charles Rocks perform their first gig.  Specializing in performing for children, his debut gig was in front of a class of second-graders in a ritzy private school up near the ritzy Bridle Path.  Brunton recalls the band performing Bryan Ferry‘s The In Crowd, Lance getting a few of the lyrics mixed up  (“Talking trash, making trash…”)

And for those of us who were big fans, at the tail-end of the interview, he donned his trademark fake nose and glasses and treated us to his imitation of Groucho.

Today’s interview was one of the most entertaining yet;  Lance has still got that supreme Lanceness, and for ten-minute stretches at a time, Brunton and Paputts were crying with laughter.   And let’s be clear:  if you were in on the joke, you were always laughing with Lance, not at him.   Toronto is a much richer place because of the likes of him.

New crew member Joe Krumins summed it up well:  “Wow.  I’ve sure never filmed anyone like that before.”

Coming next week: Roadtrip!   Kire Paputts and his father Chris Haight drive to Phillie to interview Toronto punk icon Freddy Pompeii on Father’s Day. Hey-o!

Steve Koch with The Ugly at The Last Pogo 30th;  photo Ross Taylor.

In the late seventies, being the only punk in Calgary (although he’d find out later there was this other guy called Warren Kinsella skulking around the south side) made Steve Koch feel as though people thought he was either (a) dangerous, (b) developmentally challenged, or, most likely (c) a little bit of both.

He sent a fan letter to New Rose in Toronto, the punk music and clothing store run by Margarita Passion and (original Viletones guitarist) Freddy Pompeii, and asked for a copy of the single by this new Toronto band called The Viletones.

Punk records were hard to find in Calgary, but if they did surface, were usually found in the “delete” section, so as far and few between as they were, they were at least cheap.  But there just weren’t enough for Calgary’s Only Punk, and Calgary was…well…Calgary, and hence the letter.   Don Pyle, all of fifteen or so, wrote him back.  (Don, of course, besides being a great photographer and cool dude, would later form Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet and continues to make music, art, and produce for other people.  He spent a lot of his formative years hanging out at New Rose.)   Don mistakenly addressed the letter to one John Koch, who didn’t exist at the Calgary Koch residence, and so the letter sat on the stoop for a few weeks until a curious Steve held it up to a light, saw that it contained… a paper airplane, and decided to open it up.  And that was the start of a friendship that continues to this day.

So it was that in ’78 that Steve Koch decided to get the fuck out of Dodge, and after a non-stop seventy-hour drive, he and a couple of buds arrived on the doorstep of Don Pyle, who, with parents conveniently out for the night, let them crash on the couch and floor.   The next thing ya know, Steve and Don form Crash Kills Nine, and after giving that name to the late Reid Diamond (on the condition the number changed;  it did, and became Crash Kills Five) Steve auditioned as the new guitar-slinger for The Viletones, and won them over with his take on the Dead Boys’ classic Sonic Reducer.   Quickly earning a rep as one of Toronto’s better players, Steve would later play with Handsome Ned, The Demics and lots more, and has continued to bang out music on a regular basis, currently as a member of both The Screwed and the 2009 version of The Ugly.

Any last words on punk rock?

“Buy the CD.”

And parting advise for any aspiring punks?

“Don’t buy the CD.”  BAM!

The Last Pogo Jumps Again shoots Steve Koch;  photo Ross Taylor

We got to hear (and record) all these stories over a couple of hours on a sunny Saturday afternoon, with Tea and Sympathy (coffee and an ashtray) provided by Steve’s wife Max (no, she’s not a dude, dude, she’s all woman, as in va va va voom) — and a half-dozen scrapbooks dating back to ’76 provided by photographer Ross Taylor, who’s continued to photograph all things punk for over thirty years now.  (Awesome collection, Ross;  good work!)

Back in the seventies Ross was a member of Cheap Thrills, the ticket subscription thingy that for a yearly fee gave him fifth row centre seats at the old cavernous and smoky Maple Leaf Gardens, and so Ross went to everything.   As Steve turned the scrapbook pages on prog-rockers and sixties relics that frankly are too embarrassing to mention (although Pogo director Brunton owned up to once being a fan of Jethro Tull, Pink Floyd — did anyone not go to see that show in Hamilton in ’75? — and Yes) you could see on the yellowed brittle pages how it all changed around ’76, the pages getting jammed with the likes of Ramones, Dead Boys, Iggy Pop, New York Dolls, Dictators, Lou Reed — and loads on Toronto’s own nasty darlings, The Viletones.

You can catch Steve playing with The Screwed every other week or so, and on June 6th head down to Sneaky Dee’s in Toronto where he’ll by playing as a member of The Ugly, with original members Sam Ferrara and Tony Torture, and Greg Dick filling in for the late great Mike Nightmare.   Get a sneak preview of what these guys sound like by tuning into CIUT-FM on Sunday, May 31 at 10:00 where they’ll play a couple of tunes, and then sit down for a chat.

Greg Trinier of The Mods, The Last Pogo 30th, December 2008;  photo Ross Taylor

Sharing the bill at Sneaky Dee’s will be another of the original Toronto punkers, The Mods, sporting the same line-up, same tunes, and same sharp sartorial stylings as they did thirty years ago.  And if that ain’t enough, a new band (who Dick says are great) called The Superstitions open the show.   And if you’re still not convinced, in between bands and beers be treated to old-skool tunes spun by D.J. O.P.P., a.k.a. Peter Genest, the legally beleagured owner of Hits ‘n’ Misses.

Okay, so buy it already.  Twelve bucks.  Canadian!

As we continue to shoot and edit The Last Pogo Jumps Again, we thought we’d make a pitch to you, dear reader, to buy a copy of The Last Pogo, the 1978 punk rock doc that has an amazing batting average of .1000 with critics and bloggers.  1000!  That’s like Barry Bonds and Babe Ruth birthing a super-baby — with A-Rod acting as the doula — but without the steroids or massive amounts of booze and hot-dogs and secret over-the-counter crazy Dominican drugs!  But seriously folks:  not a bad word yet.  And it’s only twelve stinkin’ dollars!   That’s like eight or nine propped-up U.S. bucks.  And we’ve got cases of these things!

After feature articles in Absolute Pop, Exclaim, The Big Takeover and all the local Toronto rags, people said stuff like:  “Punker than you’ll ever be.” — Peter Howell, Toronto Star.   “A masterful disaster-piece.” — jspicer, Tiny Mix Tapes.  “It’s like watching a National Geographic special about some lost tribe.” — Kevin Quain, awesome Toronto musician, and our favourite “Now THIS is a fuckin’ documentary.”  — John Harvey, poet, ex pro-wrestler.

Japan’s Doll Magazine love us long time.  Thanks to Ian Warney, we’ve got a rough translation of the review we got recently.  Emphasis on “rough.”  And here ya go:

The title “The Last Pogo” makes you grin, doesn’t it?  Toronto Punk Rock has video of live show and staff interviews from Horseshoe in 1978.  The Viletones swears ’70′s punk like Johnny Rotten.  A stylish mods band called The Mods.  The Secrets strums on trash and R & R.   The Ugly were incredibly wild.  The audience gets excited by both boring and crazy playing by Teenage Head…etc.  This stuff is too good to believe it was 30 years ago!

This handbill for the punk music and clothing store New Rose was sent to us by Margarita Passion, who owned it with original Viletone Freddy Pompeii.   A favourite hang-out for all the young dudes.  This poster was designed by Freddy himself.   Both Margarita and Freddy are living in Phillie these days;  we’ve got interviews of the both of them for the new film, but Freddy’s was done in an extremely noisy bar, and while we’re usually all for smashing bottles and screaming profanity, Freddy’s chatter is hard to hear, so we may have to bring the Pogomobile down there this year to redo it.

THE LAST POGO (1978) is still in indie record stores around the world, and available on-line at our Store link for a mere $12.00.  There’s a new review in the way-cool blog from Holland, Here Comes The Flood (look it up!), and soon a review in Tiny Mix Tapes, one of the most entertaining sites we’ve come across since discovering The History of Staplers a few years ago.   Crossing our fingers that our movie gets picked to play SXSE;  we’ll know soon.

Mickey de Sadist of The Forgotten Rebels from The Last Pogo Jumps Again; photo by Edie Steiner.

THE LAST POGO JUMPS AGAIN (2009) is deep into editing, with just a few more interviews needed.   We’ve been getting tons of jpgs (and looking for more) from Imants Krumins and Gail Wetton;  co-director Aldo Erdic has sent us some old ticket-stubs (including that beauty above from 1974);  a couple of pieces from Gary Topp and Erella Ganon — and we’ve been enjoying some of the dvds sent to us by Steven Leckie and Suzanne Naughton.

Steven Leckie from The Last Pogo Jumps Again;  photo by Edie Steiner

Filmmaker Peter Vronsky has generously offered us footage from some of the stuff he shot in the late seventies, most notably the crowds outside and in the lobby of The New Yorker on September 24, 1976 when The Ramones hit town for the first time.