That’s right. The club is called Chocolate. I really like dark chocolate.
The room is set up in the most beautiful way.  A rustic, wooden stage with a bunch of trap doors that open to reveal the wiring and inputs for all of the stage sound and that can hide the monitors and other speakers to keep the stage clear when not in use.  The walls of the stage were covered floor to ceiling with wallpaper of lush, deep red roses.  It created this amazing  ambiance.  Across from the stage was this same wood used for seating the audience on two levels of benches.  The way people might sit in a large sauna.  It was a perfect set up to engage with an audience.

The night was organized by one of Berlin’s coolest underground promotors, The Soundtrack is M (Melissa Perales).

A French ex-pat got up and played a fun set of guitar songs.  The headliner was a pretty cool experimental pop group from Philadelphia — Tickley Feather, primarily the work of one young woman named Annie, accompanied by her band mates Brendan and Adam (Adam and I traded music — Akasha Blade). I was wedged in the middle and ended the set with an encore–Prince’s I Would Die 4 U.  It was a special night for me, not my favorite performance but the room was full and enthusiastic.  I had a great night chatting with my host, Truus (thanks for your amazing hospitality + joie de vivre) and her friend who had strategically chopped up a hardwood floor in the Netherlands and delivered it to be reconstructed on his friend’s floor in Berlin (because he was concerned that he was living on a cement floor.  Beautiful. Reminds me of the kind of thing my brothers-in-law Kirk or Ron might do).
I don’t think I could draw any major conclusions from this tour at this moment other than…. you can find beautiful, inspiring people where ever you go and maybe…. play your music live.  It’s good that way.
I’m now flying to London to reconnect with my great aunt and cousin whom I have not seen since I was 12.  On Sunday I go home.
H
O
M
E

Thanks for reading.

Michael  x

This place translates into “Cellar of the Arts School”.  I played a very packed and exciting show at this venue in the spring of this year.  My host, Christof Lutz (an instructor at the Arts university and also the one responsible for live music in the Keller) and I were laughing that it would be great but likely difficult to achieve the same calibre of show — the performance and the audience.  But it turned into such a fine fine show.  One of my favorites on this tour.
It was like this: After some fantastic Thali dishes from a kickin Indian Restaurant (it had the words SLOW FOOD printed on the door, you know it’s a good place when it says that…) and then my soundcheck, I reconnected with a young guy named Jonas.  He said, “since no one is here, perhaps we could play together with me on the drums.”  We launched into a 1/2 hour inspired jam of improvisation (with some Charles Mingus riffs where I could fit them).  It was excellent.  Then the room started to fill with students coming from their classes, ordering beers, vodka and making the room uninhabitable with smoke, but no matter.  When we got to the point that no one else could fit into the room.  I began to play.  It’s a crowd that gives you their undivided attention.  A dream for a performer really.  After several songs, I invited Jonas up to play with me, we played some classic rock and some improvised stuff.  The crowd loved seeing us playing together.  Very special.  He joined me on the last encore song and then the room launched into dancing. I love this part of this community as much as playing for them.

We danced and danced to great hip hop and hardcore and techno.  Very very fun.  After fantastic morning coffees with Christof and Celina, I got on the train back to Berlin to play my final show of the tour.
The goal from here on is to play a great show and make sound decisions.
(check back here later for some video)

I’m staying with a friend of a friend’s in East Berlin along Karl Marx Allee.  It is a gorgeous strip of residences erected by the DDR immediately following the building of the Berlin Wall.  I am here during the 20th anniversary of the wall coming down– the MurFallen.  Very exciting times.  I spent my first day in bed doing absolutely nothing.  Watched Rushmore on Youtube, read, ate and repeated.
When I arrived at the club I saw a women in glasses staring at me and finally she said “is that Michael?”.  It was superstar artist/piano/singer extraordinaire Veda Hille from Vancouver.  She is living/writing a musical here in Berlin for last 3 months.  After seeing her perform in Guelph when I was in university, I asked her to play on a solo project CD of mine and she did.  I have not seen her since that time.  It was very cool.  We were both on the same bill I discovered as well as two other Canadian acts — Heliodrome and Great Aunt Ida.  The promotors, a collection of young Berlin music enthusiasts called Four Track, put the night together as part of their Campfire Sessions.
The room was in the deep basement of a smokey, but very cozy club, decorated in 60’s furnishings and wallpaper.  The music room was separate.  It had a cobblestone floor and everyone sat on tall buckets turned upsidedown (the buckets, not the people).  I played last to the packed room and was really well received.  It was another show that made me feel very proud to be an artist.  To be making this music and performing it the way I am.
Today when I awoke it was snowing in Berlin.  They say that is very very odd for this time of the year. I thought of us four Canadians all at different places in the city at that moment.  We might have something to do with it I thought. But…. I think it was a combination of air pressure, moisture and cold.

The trainride to Stuttgart was 10 hours.  Long.  But I managed to get a lot of sleep and reading in.  I arrived at the train station and was picked up by a guy named Reiner, in this car.  Sorry to the sheepish who might take offense to the graffiti on the wall…. just needed to get a photo of pretty much my favorite car.

I arrived at the club to find a quiet room of people watching a really, cheesy drama called Tartole.  It looked like something the CBC might make in Quebec (I really like Quebec. I hope my references don’t betray that feeling).
I quietly tiptoed around the tables.  I ended up watching the entire program, in German and followed it completely.  Not because the language was understandable to me, just because the producers make it very very simple to understand.
Anyways, when it was finished, everyone remained seated while I did a quick soundcheck and played a really fun show.  The room remained full until well after my second encore.  Very fine.
I hung out with my hosts drinking and enjoying a local ravioli dish called Malbrische (I think) and ended it with some Absynthe.  Just a little, but enough for me to not remember going to sleep and when I awoke I was staring at this thing…

Two words: Twisted Sister.
A Twisted Sister cover band called the Sniders were the headliner for this Hallowe’en show. The club was very cool, a great live room in the back and they fed me a great dinner that I ate with the band.  Hanging out with these guys made me feel like I was in a high school battle of the bands.  It was so, I dunno, high school.

I stole some time before soundcheck to head into the downtown and enjoy walking around with nothing but my wallet and phone.  No luggage or guitar.  I also wanted to see the 52 million year old church (I think it is actually 1200 years old).  It is incredible. They call it the Dome. I only have an iPhone so I’m not going to post the photos I took of it.  There would be no aesthetic justice to it.  But, I will say that I stood in awe of something that clearly had been built by the sweat and toil of several generations.  There is no way that the people who first started swinging hammers, chopping wood, putting up tile and erecting this building to its heights ever saw it’s finish.  I’m sure their great, great, great grandchildren did though. It’s a special time in that they have blocked all car traffic in that part of the downtown.  Permanently.  They’re is so much space for people to walk and ride bicycles along the cobblestone.

My show was one of my favorite performances, but it was difficult to engage the crowd.  They really wanted big hair music. Not lo-fi indie songwriter. No problem.  I tried to make it back to the Dome in the early morning to play guitar on it’s steps, to play a song inspired by the air surrounding the building, but I missed two buses that would have gotten me there, then there was the problem of not having a ticket and then I couldn’t find a cab, and then…… I found myself on the train to Stuttgart.

I should remark on a few points of interest for me in Italy.  First…. dinner time tapas.   Every place I have been has something different.  Beans, ciabatta, sundried tomatoes, pickled onions, anchioves, roasted peppers…. antipasti is great eating.  And secondly, every town I have been in the men have boldly asked me how old I am.  Without fail.  It’s a little bizarre for me.

This is a picture of my hotel room key.

I left Cesena after celebrating my very first espresso in Italy.  It was delicious. May have been the best I’ve ever had.  Maybe that’s just sentimenality, tough to know sometimes.  A two hour train ride with a quick stopover in Bologna (I would have liked to stay there). Once I arrived in Reggio I was at the mercy of taxis.  The club was a 20 Euro ride away from the train and the hotel was another 10 Euro away.  I stayed at the club (a 300 year old building that originally processed Reggiano cheese) once I arrived and enjoyed their tapas and a fish dinner.  The club owners, despite being told on several occassions that I would on a solo tour, continued to look over my shoulder expecting to see the other bandmates.  I could tell they were worried about the bigness of the sound.  They were concerned about the Rock.  They told me that a local crew of Harley riders were coming and did I play “Sweet Home Alabama” (with a little chuckle).  The room was packed @ 11 pm.  I just pounded into my set with all I had and played for an hour to a very attentive crowd.  I only sold 1 CD — to the table of bikers (not sure if it was because I played Along the Watchtower/Don’t Fear the Reaper medley or Mule Skinner Blues (in memory of my pops).  There were some young kids who were drumming and watching my picking style the entire time.  They said they were broke, so i gave them a CD.  Great times all around.  I went deeper into the country to the hotel.  It felt like I was in a bed and breakfast in rural Quebec skiing or something.  Very cozy place.
Then to Florence…..

After a silent train ride, I arrived in Cesena around 7 pm.  The sun had just come down and the air was mildly refreshing.  Not a chill. My host Ettore, a cool, calm, yet instantly excitable guy, picked me up and brought me straight to the club.  A gorgeous little spot.  He had a Cure concert blaring in the speakers and offered me a delicious sparkling rose made in Italy.  After soundcheck I checked into the hotel, showered, hung out in the lobby listening to a group of old men rib the clerk at the desk (who was all their senior).  I have no idea what they said to him, but he came back with a wisecrack that put them all on the floor holding their guts with laughter.  He just let a smile slowly crack on his face and went back to doing what he was.

I was concerned about the show, lots of young, highly stylized kids were showing up. They packed the room and looked like they wanted a night of DJ music to chat over, not a live show in their face.  But I should learn by this point that you can’t know what people are thinking, en masse, at any given moment.

The show was really, really, great for me.  The room was dark and Ettore had put two low level red lights at my feet shining upward and projections sidewashed on the wall behind me.  The crowd, the bar staff, the DJ were all yelling out excitement.  I played an unrushed set, an encore and then fell into the night with everyone.

Ettore, made me massive plate of the best fusili, pesto, tomato, egg plant and sausage I have ever had.

The DJ, Andrea, kept playing Arcade Fire saying “this is for you Canadian man!”

Off to  Reggio nell Emilia.  It’s in the Parma region.  My hope is for…. some good cheese, prosciutto and a hopeful crowd to play to.

I landed in Paris en route to Austria, with about 4 hours to kill. I went to the Louvre.  It was mindblowing on many levels.  I walked through the park towards the Arc de Triomphe to catch my train afterward and found this oversize splash pad, with a bunch of splash cymbals embedded like flamingos in the water.  Kids were throwing rocks at them.  It was perfect. The photo is a little dark.   The sun is just making it’s way behind the Eiffel Tower in the distance.

My train ride to Graz started with an overnight sleeper car to Munich. First class might have been worth the money.  I slept in a little room with 6 bunks in it. Full.  Tight.  Happily, I slept for the entire journey after sitting in the bar car listening to a crowd of French businessman unwinding, or winding up, not sure which.
In Graz I was greeted at the train station by a Canadian guy who owns the Office, the venue where I was playing that night.  He had his 18 month old with him and the two of them escorted me to the hotel. After showering, endless emails and watching interviews with the singer from A-Ha, making some kind of bizarre comeback (sentimental love song videos on the beach, fingers in the sand, really bad sweater….) on local TV.  During the cab ride to the show, the radio played a live version of Take On Me.  He didn’t really hit those high notes live like in the original version.  I love that song like it was my first cat.
The Office is a bar for students, cricket lovers and people who want to practice English while they drink.  The opener was a guy named Mickey who, last year, hit the Guiness book of records playing 51 gigs in 24 hours.  I never asked him if it was official.  I guess I just believe him.
Oh ya.  Everyone smokes in the bar.  One forgets that foul experience of wreaking of smoke for days, let alone feeling like you’ve second hand smoked a pack and a half.
My show suffered from sound quality.  Can’t deny it.  The club needs to invest a little time into that one.  They’re trying.

A little hungover, I’m on a train to Cesena, Italy.

When you live in a small town and you are tired of needing to leave to see bands you like, I suppose you make a week long festival happen in a local chapel and theatre in your little town and invite those same bands to come and play for you.
My first night at Rockomotives was a “secret” show.  Culture Reject and Marie Flore (Paris) were listed in the program but the venue was texted to everyone just an hour before the show.  I sat in the kitchen of this old schoolhouse next to the little theatre warming my hands, drinking wine and playing my guitar.  When I entered, the 45 people the room could hold were quietly sitting on the floor.  Waiting.  These are my favorite moments about playing.  No distractions. The audience stuck with me on every note.  It was a real pleasure.  Here’s a video shot by a local guy (ThomR) with a great respect for detail:

http://www.vimeo.com/7311080

The next day, my hosts (Lionel + Marie of Nestor is Bianca, a great local indie project with fat beats and bass under cool melodies) took me, by request, to a local winery to meet the vintner and try some flavours.  I wasn’t blown away by the wine (I learned that it’s possible to find a very mediocre or even bad bottle of French wine).  Lionel bought me a bottle of “grey” wine — lighter than rose, darker than white, it was the best that we tried.  Thanks Lionel.
After being interviewed by some local students, I was taken to dinner at a Morroccan restaurant.  Food was delicious.  I went back to the hotel to work on a new song I was hoping to play at that evening’s apartment concert.
I played again with Marie Flore, her set was supercool.  Very CatPower.  The crowd was again super engaged and France 3 TV was there to shoot the performance and interview me afterwards.  They asked good questions.  They actually listened to the music — I could tell.
I stuck around to enjoy those folks and partied a little with a French band named Montgomery when they arrived to have some beers.  They’re really great guys and make excellent art pop, singing in French, which many French indie or pop musicians will tell you, is difficult.  Most of them are too enculturated with anglophone music that they feel stupid trying to make rhymes in their own language (I have witnessed the same across Western Europe).
During the festival I also caught sets by Alaska In Winter (has an entire video collage of himself airplaying the preprogrammed instruments with his voice drenched in autotuning.  Not so thrilling beyond the initial novelty) and Mansfield Tya, whose show I can’t say enough good things about.  SuperBon. SuperCool.

After leaving the UK I made my way to France.  I parted ways with Ryder in Paris  and took a late train to Metz to make my show. My friend Florian (Flo), the promotor/all around great guy @ L’Emile Vache invited me to play two shows and insisted I stay with him and his girlfriend for my three days.
My opening show was with French band,  FiliaMotsa.  A drummer and violinist who play what I would consider slow metal.  I really liked it.  I played a pretty rushed set but to a receptive audience.
The next day I ate @ the Winstub which serves very traditional food from this area (a mixture of French and German cuisine–Metz was once part of Germany).  On Flo’s recommendation but against my better judgement I ordered the Munster.  A 5 inch wide and 1 1/2 inch thick circle of deep fried Muenster cheese atop roasted potatoes and greens.  It was spectacular but I did not finish it and needed the next two days to fully digest it. That night I awaited the arrival of my labelmate, Eamon McGrath, about whose live show I had heard many great things.  He arrived with traveling videographer, Peter Dremanis and shortly after, by Ryder.
The show started out with local electro-folk hero and friend of mine, Dr. Geo.  He did some looping for his supercool songs accompanied by a cellist.  Very fine.  Eamon got up next and played a pounding set of hits from his new record.  His energy was pretty infectious to the crowded room.  I thought his energy was what the crowd would be into and that I would have a difficult time pulling them into my songs.  It turned out to be a really great engagement with the rest of the club.  The chemistry was perfect.  After an encore, the DJs kicked into a blistering onslaught of 60’s and 70’s soul music.  The dancing went to the wee hours and I hit a pillow at about 6 or 7 am.  Here’s a video shot by Peter Dremanis of the night

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9aXLMQ88aQ
I had the next day off, but stuck around in Metz to hang with Flo and Jenny.  A really good choice.  I went to a local vinyl shop and bought some Ray Charles, Supertramp, Leonard Cohen and finally found a decent copy of Sandanista by the Clash.  I caught gorgeou sets by Old Seed of Canada and Bob Corn of Italy that night.  We went to a cozy house party at the end until sleep was inevitable.  After saying goodbye to the party’s hosts, my friend Dr. Geo stood at the top of the narrow, spiral staircase looking down on me as I ambled my way to the street and he began to play Girl from the North Country on an acoustic guitar.  I sang along with him as I descended.  It made me miss home more, but warmed me up in a way I needed.