by Chris Walter
The September date for the album release came and went. Time moved backwards. Finally, after a fiery gig with the Descendents at the “Ambo” on November 24th, SNFU packed Vanna White and hit the road. Only a few of the American dates had been confirmed, and the new album still wasn’t out in Canada, but the window of opportunity was closing and it was time to go. With luck, the record would hit the stores while they were on the road and give the boys some much-needed press. A blustery wind buffeted Vanna as she motored east towards engagements in Saskatchewan and Manitoba. After sitting on their thumbs for two months, a little bad weather wasn’t going to stop them. This was Edmonton, not LA.
Although the guys didn’t have any records to sell, they were well prepared for the tour. They didn’t take more shirts than they could sell in Canada, but they brought with them the silkscreens necessary to produce more. In the States, SNFU would buy blanks from a wholesaler and produce more shirts in the homes of supporters, who didn’t realize that the noxious reek of ink would render their living quarters uninhabitable for twenty-four hours. There was nothing SNFU could do about the smell.
Shows in Calgary, Saskatoon, and Regina were bigger than they were last time, and chances of the band going hungry seemed slim, even without merch sales. The boys pushed on to Winnipeg for two shows, where they were given the star treatment as usual. Ted Simm was well-liked there and fans happily welcomed him home. The band left town after the second show, with some of the members suffering from significant hangovers.
So far, the tour was going swimmingly, and even a blowout on Highway #1 at ninety kilometres an hour was not enough to dampen their spirits. “I didn’t trust anyone’s driving but my own, but Brent brought us to the shoulder perfectly,” recalls Dave Bacon. A highspeed blowout with a heavy vehicle can be catastrophic if not handled properly, so they were lucky that Brent kept his cool.
The guys changed the wheel and the sun went down. Everyone but Ted and Dave were fast asleep by the time they reached Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, so the pair decided to drop acid to make the journey more interesting. “Ted was game for anything,” Dave recalls. The drive was definitely more exciting after that, and the rocky terrain of the Canadian Shield was slightly surreal. Unlike BC and Alberta, Ontario has no real mountains, just endless miles of lakes, rock formations, and scraggly pine trees. On this occasion, as the sun slowly rose over the ethereal vista, Ted and Dave could easily have been on another planet. One might safely argue that they were.
After finally conking out overnight at a truck stop, the band drove to the record plant in Mississauga to pick up the new album. They were delighted with the cover, which featured an abstract sculpture by Edmonton artist Blake Senini and graphics by Ken Hansen. Having chosen the artwork themselves, the band knew what to expect, but holding the album in their hands was magical nevertheless. The glossy shrink-wrap made the colourful art shine like a beacon, illuminating the gloomy winter sky with joy and hope. Even the messages etched into the inner groove were perfect: “Gang Green Sucks Bud” and “Rectum Damn Near Killed ‘Em.” At moments like this, the suffering and hardship was all worthwhile.
While the guys were generally happy with the way the album sounded, Dave Bacon voices disappointment with the finished product. “The final mix sounded fucking amazing, but we sent the masters to LA and they flattened it out. I don’t know what BYO did with it, but they wouldn’t pay for David Mockford to fly to LA to help with mastering,” the bassist says wearily. Like many great punk albums, If You Swear You’ll Catch No Fish probably could have sounded better if the production budget hadn’t been so modest.
Surprisingly, Bunt Belke defends the mastering. “The style of the day was to remove the highs and lows from commercial recordings for radio, so the Sterns were probably just following current market trends,” the guitarist speculates. Interestingly, those conservative practices were abandoned in the early 90s with the onset of grunge and have not returned.
SNFU had records to sell at the show in Guelph, but Dave was not feeling well. The effects of the LSD were gone, replaced with what would become a severe case of bronchitis. “One of the reasons I eventually left the band was because I was always getting sick,” Dave explains. The Marlboros he chain-smoked and long hours behind the wheel exacerbated the problem, causing his overtaxed immune system to fail. SNFU did the show that night and moved on, but Dave was sick and getting sicker. The tour loomed endlessly.
The band continued to London and Hamilton, spreading the word of SNFU and selling tons of merch. Kids at these shows were floored by the new songs, and by the heightened performance of the band. Dave was ill, but the band had shows to play, and his coughing and hacking annoyed the other guys, making them feel guilty for not showing the sick bass player more sympathy. They wanted Dave to get better, and not just so he would stop that blasted coughing. The band was only as strong as its weakest link.
A gig organized by the infamous Bunchofuckinggoofs at the Latvian House in Toronto on December 3rd did not go as planned. For one reason or another, the show was booked in a residential neighbourhood, and it didn’t take long for disgruntled citizens to call the police. “They rushed the band before us off the stage because they knew the cops would shut down the show, but we only got to play a few songs before they arrived,” Dave recalls. He can’t remember if the band got paid or not, but feels they made more money in the first two weeks than they did on the entire ’85 tour. After collecting the guarantee, SNFU left town bound for Ottawa. Though the musicians obviously weren’t expecting to get rich, it was nice not to starve.
Monk, the Asexuals’ roadie they met the year before, was supposed to join SNFU at the gig in Toronto, but he decided to take in the Red Hot Chili Peppers with TSOL show that night instead. Missing the Edmontonians completely, and unable to contact them in those primitive pre-mobile phone days, Monk returned to Montreal to wait for the band.
While the show in Ottawa was well-attended, the gig in Montreal with the Asexuals was extra special. Les Foufounes Électriques was packed full of sweaty SNFU fans waiting impatiently for their return, and the band did not let them down. Chi was in top form, displaying new props he’d gathered along the way, and taunting the crowd playfully. The band was also playing to the best of their considerable abilities, delighting the fans and leaving them exhausted. When the band agreed to do an impromptu show the next day at a small club known as The Rising Sun, Dave Bacon almost forgot to be sick.
Montreal was a favoured spot for touring punk bands those days, and the DayGlo Abortions had recently sold out Foufounes Électriques on their first pass through town. Few could have guessed that mutated line-ups of SNFU and the DayGlo Abortions would be sharing bills more than twenty years later. Not only was Montreal a favoured spot for the mighty DayGlos, but now it was high on SNFU’s list as well. In fact, SNFU was so popular in Montreal that they booked another gig there ten days later, which would give them time to play a number of engagements on the way to St. John’s, Newfoundland, where they had two shows. If all went according to schedule, there would be no problem.
The band was glad to have a professional roadie working for them. They played so violently that gear was always breaking or falling over. Monk could see problems and correct accidents almost before they happened. He was also good at throwing guests off the stage if they lingered too long. “Sometimes I rapped kids on the knuckles with my mag light if they fucked with the wedges (monitors),” admits the roadie. “Ken always gave me shit for that later.” Monk, a stone professional who kept his gripes to himself, was easygoing and good-natured—important qualities for any roadie.
SNFU left Montreal full of optimism, eager to make tracks for Newfoundland. The band was booked at a fairly large venue in St. Johns, and even with all the travelling expenses, the money would be decent. Stopping in Moncton and Fred-ericton, SNFU was happy to play new places for new faces. So far so good.
In Halifax on December 9th, a disgruntled punk at the Club Flamingo tried to punch Chi P
ig, who had taken his photograph against his wishes. Luckily for the singer, bystanders quickly jumped to his rescue. “If I recall correctly, Collin was a Sid Vicious clone back then, and quite a ladies man. Maybe that’s why Ken took his picture,” suggests punk guitarist and SNFU fan Otis Rawding, who was also at the show. Despite the incident, Chi Pig still had plenty of game left. Dressed in his finest clownwear, the indefatigable singer was soon batting wieners into the crowd with a plastic badminton racket. Naturally, he also dumped plenty of popcorn and cooking oil into the pit, making the floor dangerously slippery. Just another night on the road with SNFU.
The boys boarded a ferry out of North Sydney, Nova Scotia later the next day. “Being December, it was very cold, and the seas were rough. We almost froze to death smoking a hash joint on the top deck,” Bacon recalls. The eight-hour journey was neither luxurious nor pleasant, and the woozy musicians were ecstatic when the vessel finally docked in Port aux Basques. Then there was the long and brutal drive to St. Johns in a raging snow storm. Would the trip never end? Exhausted and cranky, SNFU arrived in St. Johns and loaded the gear into the licensed venue. Eager to do the show, the boys were taken aback by what happened next. “The phone rang, and we could hear the manager talking to someone from the Liquor Board. He was telling the manager that he couldn’t hold an all-ages show in the club,” recounts Dave Bacon, the outrage evident in his voice. “That sucked, because most of the ticketholders were underage.”
Instead of playing, the guys had to carry the gear back to the van and look for an alternate venue. “The kids were great, though. They fed us lobster and got us drunk on Screech,” says Bacon. A school auditorium fell through, and SNFU ended up playing on the third floor of an office building, with the band in one room and the audience in another. Hardly an ideal arrangement for a group that had travelled all the way from Edmonton. The shows they played along the way helped offset the costs, but the band still lost a considerable amount of money. Mostly, the boys were disappointed to come so far only to be swatted down like a horny teenager on prom night. Marc Belke’s dislike for authority had never been stronger.
In order to make it back to Montreal in time for the show, SNFU left Newfoundland at 3:00 AM to catch the ferry, but were dismayed to learn that there was no fixed schedule and they could do nothing but wait. The ferry finally showed up around noon and the epic journey began. After a long and arduous sea voyage, the boys landed in North Sydney and drove thirty-six hours to Montreal, stopping only for gas and food. They arrived exhausted and burnt out, ready for a long sleep. This was not to be, of course, but the packed show that night was better than could be expected under the circumstances. Having rested little, the boys rolled out the next day headed for Southern Ontario. After another run through the smaller cities, SNFU crossed into the USA at Detroit. The Canadian leg of the tour was over, but the US portion had just begun.
The Detroit show was not the wrestling spectacle it had been the year before, but the turnout was good nevertheless. Bypassing Cleveland, SNFU pushed on to Athens for a show at the University of Ohio. After that, they hit Pittsburgh before moving into New York State. In Trenton, New Jersey, they met up with promoter Randy “Now” Ellis, who confessed that he hadn’t booked the US leg as promised. Randy, who was currently promoting the Bad Brains, didn’t seem to have time for SNFU. Instead, he handed the Canadian punks off to the fast-talking New York promoter Johnny Stiff, whom the DayGlo Abortions would soon immortalize with their song “Kill Johnny Stiff.”
Dave Bacon spoke with Johnny on the phone, who told Dave they could identify him by his green hair when they met at the show. Johnny warned the band not to use his real name on the guest list because he had some sort of beef with the venue’s promoter, Chris Williamson. Against their will, the band was drawn into a conflict between two parties they didn’t even know. What did Hunter S. Thompson say about the music business again? Something about a dark side.
Apart from promoting shows at the Rock Hotel, Chris Williamson also ran Rock Hotel Records, and had released albums by the Cro Mags, The Nils, DOA, Murphy’s Law, and others. Chris expressed interest in releasing SNFU’s next album, and the group made plans to negotiate a contract a little further down the road. Although SNFU wanted to concentrate on the tour, they would definitely consider the proposition. BYO had treated them fairly, but the small label didn’t have the resources to move the band forward. Under these circumstances, the boys felt it would be only prudent to shop around for a new label. Luckily, they hadn’t signed any binding contracts with BYO and were free to move on.
Andy Rodgers and Curtis Creager came down from Edmonton to see SNFU play with the Bad Brains at the Rock Hotel, which was over the top in terms of energy and excitement. SNFU didn’t know it yet, but the two shows with the Bad Brains would be the best gigs they would ever have in New York. From this point on, shows here would only get worse.
Bushed, the band and their guests went to stay with Dave’s high-end stripper/escort ex-girlfriend and her female roommate in the Bowery. Packed buttcheek to buttcheek like punk rock sardines, there wasn’t much room for privacy. Ken Chinn awoke one morning and looked at Andy in a curious manner. “Last night I dreamt that my asshole was a circus and you were trying to sneak in,” cracked the frontman, causing the entire room to burst into laughter. “A comment like that is hard to forget,” laughs Monk. “We repeated that line for years.”
The small apartment was empty during the day, but filled up late at night when everyone returned from their various pursuits. “I remember that the place was on the third floor, and we had to carry all our gear up the stairs after each gig,” says Brent. The girls were friendly and gracious, but Dave Bacon declines to say whether or not the arrangement led to any Penthouse Forum-type situations.
The Big Apple was deserted on Christmas Eve, so the group travelled to Poughkeepsie, where Monk knew a girl named Patsy. They stayed overnight, and Monk woke up feeling horrible. “I slept next to Patsy’s sick boa constrictor in the kitchen, so maybe I picked up a virus from that big snake,” theorizes Monk. The band stayed for Christmas anyway, returning to New York on December 27th for the second and last show with the Bad Brains. “I was so sick I thought I was going to die,” recalls Monk. And the tour was less than half over.
The show with the Bad Brains and Nausea at the Ritz was one of the most exciting SNFU would ever play. “The energy in that room was incredible,” recalls Brent Belke. Shivering under a pile of jackets backstage and unable to perform even simple duties, Monk was so ill that he could barely drag himself to a window overlooking the massive show to take in the action. After watching a few songs, the miserable roadie returned to his sickbed of studded leather jackets. “I was so sick, I almost went back to Montreal,” says Monk about the awful night.
SNFU had a different sort of problem later that evening. Drenched in sweat and with the sound of thunderous applause ringing loudly in their ears, the boys staggered backstage only to be confronted by a furious Chris Williamson. Johnny Stiff and Chris were mortal enemies, and SNFU had committed the ultimate sin of putting Johnny on the guest list. “Chris screamed his head off, telling us that we’d never work in New York City again and all this shit,” Bunt recalls sadly. “I couldn’t believe that we got raked over the coals for letting our promoter into the show,” adds Dave. Egos abound in show business, and not just on the stage.
The fellows met with Johnny Stiff again the next day, and the flashy promoter promised to do what he could for them. True to his word, Johnny soon found work for SNFU. Unfortunately, he couldn’t string the dates together consecutively, which meant the boys had to make hit-and-run missions into the surrounding states, using NYC as a base. On January 2nd, the band travelled to Philadelphia for a show at Club Pizazz, which failed to live up to its name. Sound in the acoustically-challenged bar was terrible, and it was only half-full of hungover punk rockers still trying to recover from New Year’s Eve. SNFU did the show and returned to New York, where Dave Bacon’s e
x-girlfriend and her roommate continued to be gracious, even as the days turned to weeks. Not that the musicians were around much except to sleep.
Although the DayGlo Abortions hated Johnny Stiff, Dave and Brent report that the promoter treated them fairly and helped earn them money. Of course, Johnny made money too, but that’s business. “I liked Johnny Stiff. He did a fuckin’ great job, and he was funny,” says Dave, disagreeing with the DayGlos, who referred famously to the flashy little New Yorker as a “rip-off shithead promoter.” Elected band manager because no one else wanted the job, Dave negotiated contracts and collected payments from Johnny Stiff and other promoters as well. The six-foot-five bassist knew how to get the cash.
Chi Pig and the Belkes would pay more attention to finances later in the game, but for now they left the accounting to Dave. On the road, the band kept the cash in a lunchbox under the front seat and members could take what they wanted simply by marking the sum down on a sheet of paper. At the end of the tour, those advances were deducted from their earnings. Since none of the members had drug problems, there was still money left when they got home.