by Chris Walter
The Belkes attended a few sporting events, including an NHL hockey game at Madison Square Garden. This set the stage for tours to follow, when some members of the band would catch major league baseball games in almost every American city they visited. While driving towards an engagement, they would cross-reference the baseball schedule with their tour itinerary to see how they coincided. After soundcheck, they would hit the game and then return to do the gig. Instead of drinking too much beer in darkened clubs until shows, baseball was a great way to stay entertained. Not that the boys didn’t have a few beers at baseball games, but at least they were outside in the fresh air and not trapped inside some mildewed bar with dirty draft beer lines.
Speaking of booze, Monk was surprised to see that Chi Pig had re-thought his game. The singer never drank before shows any more, but instead did stretches to increase his already impressive flexibility. In top physical shape, the frontman had adopted a professional attitude towards his craft. “Chi knew that kids were paying money to see the band, and he wanted them to get their money’s worth. He was sober when he went onstage, and he delivered 110% every night,” Monk recalls. “Chi wasn’t big, but he had amazing muscle tone, and the show was incredible.”
Although the band only caught one NHL game on this tour, Dave Bacon made a point of visiting almost every hockey arena in every city, even if they were out of the way. “We’d either ‘accidentally’ end up at the arena, or we would take detours on purpose,” remembers Bacon, who clearly had a fetish for hockey rinks.
Finally, after playing all over New York City and into Albany as well, SNFU set off for a string of shows in Florida. “Things were somewhat normal for a while there,” Dave reflects. On a rare day off, the boys went to Disney World and stayed until very late. “That was a full-on band cash affair. It was great fun,” Chi Pig remembers. Even hardcore punks needed to get a little goofy once in a while.
Johnny Stiff eventually booked a long succession of dates for the band, and they gigged through the Deep South to Mississippi, where Dave Bacon bought a Tony Alva deck from a promoter who also ran a skateboard shop. With the exception of Ted, all the guys rode their skateboards at every opportunity. Johnny Stiff’s engagements were not booked in any particular order, which meant the band had to crisscross the country seemingly at random. “We were all over the place on that tour,” Marc remembers. “I think we played Detroit three times.”
In Washington, DC the boys did a smoking version of “Broken Toy” that had kids flying lemming-like from a stage so small that Dave Bacon had to stand on the drum riser for most of the show. Crammed into the tiny, sweaty club with little room to move, SNFU unleashed holy hell on the beer-crazed fans.
From DC the band drove to Texas for a date, and then doubled back to Kansas for a manic show at The Outhouse in Lawrence on February 28th. Onstage that night, Chi Pig was at his entertaining best, hanging upside down from the low beamed ceiling and leaping repeatedly from the drum riser. Resplendent in a high collared sleeveless pink shirt he’d been wearing for at least a week, the frontman led the band through a white-hot rendition of “Where’s My Legs” before crashing into Cat Stevens’ “Wild World,” which would appear on the band’s next album. Flinging sweat from his long bleached-blond hair like a wet dog spraying water, the singer was a man possessed. Fans did not ask for refunds.
SNFU returned to Texas again, where Dave got sick in Amarillo. Despite this, he managed to drive straight through to LA, with only a brief stop in Las Vegas. Upon arrival in the City of Angels, Dave was so sick that he spent several days bedridden with bronchitis, scarcely able to move. Not only was the bassist ill, but Monk contracted a nasty case of salmonella poisoning from McDonald’s. For the second time this tour, the roadie was temporarily out of commission through little fault of his own. Perhaps he would rethink McDonald’s in the future.
While Monk suffered in the bathroom, Dave Bacon forced himself out of bed to perform in the “Black Cloud” video for BYO. Shot at the BYO warehouse in Marina del Rey, the low-budget video opens with Chi Pig removing a series of spooky masks while the band plays in shifting, grainy glory around him. “We joked that Chi looked like an eighty year old Hal Linden,” Muc remembers. The unhurried tempo and apocalyptic message gave the production a creepy feel that contrasted sharply with the short, catchy anthems for which SNFU was known. While the song was not disjointed in any way, the slower-paced “Black Cloud” wasn’t exactly what fans expected—not that many actually saw it. MTV ignored it entirely, and other than infrequent, late-night showings on cable TV, the video was doomed to languish in obscurity forever. Or at least until the clip eventually became available on YouTube.
Opening for Corrosion of Conformity at Fender’s Ballroom in LA on March 7th, SNFU was in fine form. “Devil’s Voice” was the first song out of the gate, with Chi Pig deploying his signature aerial leap for the amazed spectators. Launching himself from the kick drum with one foot, the singer shot straight for the ceiling, creating one of those gravity-defying moments oft captured on film. Looking back at those famous photographs, the viewer cannot help but wonder how the singer could possibly have leapt so high. Chi’s distinctive voice carried over the thunder of guitars and drums like bagpipes on a battlefield, occasionally causing the skinheads and the Suicidals’ gang to stop fighting for a moment. With the furious guitars ringing loudly, and the rhythm section pounding hard enough to crack concrete, SNFU provided the ultimate but unwilling backdrop for the testosterone-fueled violence.
After kicking around LA for a week, the boys hit San Francisco for a show at the On Broadway with Corrosion of Conformity on March 13th, 1987. Both bands played in Sacramento the next night, and then doubled back to San Fran for a date at the Gilman Street Project on March 15th. “Gilman Street was awesome,” recalls Brent. He also remembers that Chi Pig refused to accept a cassette from Tim Armstrong, who was currently in Operation Ivy. “I took the tape and told him I’d listen to it all the time. I probably still have it somewhere,” says Brent, who has been known to hang on to things. After another loud and crazy show, the gang left for Portland, feeling just a bit ragged around the edges.
Dave was starting to feel a little better, but the relentless pace wasn’t helping much. After another well-attended but uneventful show in Portland, SNFU moved on to Seattle and Tacoma before finally landing in Vancouver on March 19th. In general, the shows were bigger and better than they’d been in ’85, and other than the sick bassist, the band was in top form. Ted Simm, having received the best indoctrination a drummer could get, was now an integral member of the band—a full-fledged SNFUer. And he was tired. They were all tired.
In Vancouver, the boys met Cecil English, who had already produced albums for a number of esteemed punk groups. SNFU wanted to try Cecil mostly because of his work with NoMeansNo. “We worshipped that band,” says Marc. The two parties loosely agreed to make an album together, the details of which could be negotiated later. David Mockford had done a good enough job on the band’s previous album, but SNFU felt that it wouldn’t hurt to use someone new.
Moving on, SNFU played Kamloops, BC with the Desperate Minds, which consisted of guitarist/vocalist Sean Holowaychuk, his brother Kim on drums, Tim Chiba on guitar, and his brother Gary playing bass. The scene in Kamloops was small, and local bands organized most of the events. “I was pretty excited for that show because I’m of Asian descent, and I had seen pictures of Chi Pig, who was also an Asian punk rocker. There weren’t too many of us, so that was cool,” says Tim Chiba. “The people who rented halls to us didn’t know what they were getting into, and sometimes they would freak out about the drinking and stuff.” Luckily the show that night, which was held in a church basement, went relatively smoothly and the venue would be available for future gigs.
The association between the two bands was useful for SNFU because the Holowaychuk brothers also printed T-shirts at their shop, Altered Images. The days of screening shirts on the road were coming to an end. Not only would Desp
erate Minds tour with SNFU later, but Tim Chiba would also become part of the SNFU story. Almost home now, SNFU did a gig in Calgary with Urban Holiday, an Edmonton band featuring Marc and Ken’s ex-roommate from the Nose Dive Curtis Creager. “That was our first out-of-town gig, and we got a great response from the crowd,” recalls Creager. Dave Bacon stood in front of the stage bobbing his head and watching thoughtfully as Curtis played bass and sang. “After the show, I remembered thinking it was weird for Dave to be paying so much attention,” says Curtis, who didn’t know that he would soon prove useful to SNFU.
The boys finally arrived home in late March of 1987, and were startled to learn that the Edmonton Journal had run an article along with a big, colour photograph of the band to announce their homecoming show. The Journal also awarded them the title of Canada’s Hardest Working Band, which they would keep until The Doughboys took it away from them in 1990. The mainstream media hadn’t paid much attention to SNFU until now, so this was a bit of a surprise.
The boys arrived at Northlands Golden Garter for the show that night, which would have been packed even without the press coverage. They climbed out of the van, and a twelve year old punker looked Dave Bacon up and down coldly. “So, you guys must think you’re big rock stars now,” said the kid with all the snottiness he could muster. After crashing on the floors of filthy punk dives all over North America for almost five months and enduring every sort of degradation possible, Canada’s Hardest Working Bassist wasn’t in the mood to take any guff. “Shaddap, kid, or I’ll throw you right through that wall over yonder,” snarled Bacon, pointing towards the venue. The long tour was over.
Better Than a Punch in the Face
A few days after the homecoming show at the Golden Garter, Dave Bacon told manager Gubby Szvoboda he was leaving, and Gubby passed the bad news on to the band. “We weren’t all that surprised, because we knew he wasn’t very happy on the road,” recalls Marc. “Dave was a great musician, but we didn’t freak out when he quit. I think we were almost glad because we wanted to get a closer friend in the band.” Although Bacon’s departure didn’t seriously alarm Marc, it was a concern nevertheless. Bunt agrees that while Dave was fantastic in SNFU, he felt they were holding him back from the type of music he should have been making.
Bacon says his fellow musicians knew that he was thinking about quitting the band, but it wasn’t until they returned to Edmonton that he finally made up his mind. With his recurring bronchitis, the bassist decided that life on the road was too rough on his system. Not only that, but Dave’s taste in music had shifted away from punk and contrasted significantly from that of his bandmates. Even the way he dressed was different, and while the other guys wore traditional punk gear such as peg-leg jeans, band T-shirts, wristbands, and headbands, Dave favoured a tan buckskin jacket, which went nicely with his long hair and mutton chop sideburns. His previous band, Ghost Shirt Society had been more post-punk than hardcore, and the basic nature of punk wasn’t enough of a challenge for him. In short, Dave Bacon needed to move on.
At any rate, Dave’s bandmates accepted his resignation with regret. Dave had already mentioned that Curtis Creager was ready to take over, and the boys gave the idea some serious thought. They had enough songs to fill the new album, and while either Belke could play the bass parts in the studio, they couldn’t tour without a replacement for Dave. The wheels for the next tour were in motion, and there could be penalties if they reneged on those contracts. Luckily, the idea of having Creager in the band pleased them, even if they weren’t sure he could do the job at first. “We loved Curt,” says Marc. “It seemed natural.”
Instead of trying to recruit Curtis instantly, the boys were glad for a chance to relax. Having spent so much time in close proximity, the bandmembers truly need-ed a break from each other. None of them still lived in the same building any more, so at least they could escape into their respective apartments for privacy. They had also earned a few bucks, and the band and Monk were able to split $24,000 in earnings after expenses were deducted. The roadie spent his birthday, March 29th, partying in E-Town before flying back to Montreal, hungover as fuck.
Meanwhile, the boys slowly eased back into the pace of civilian life. Since the snow was almost gone, Curtis Creager and Marc Belke went skateboarding in an empty wading pool one afternoon. Preparing for a run, Curtis almost dropped his board when Marc asked him if he wanted to try out for SNFU. The band didn’t even have any other candidates in mind at the moment, but he didn’t know that. When Curtis voiced doubts in his ability, Marc mentioned that Dave Bacon had given him the nod. The Urban Holiday frontman told Marc that he would love to audition, but first he needed to speak to his current band-mates. He was sure they wouldn’t be happy. Marc nodded thoughtfully before flying into the wading pool on his board. Curtis would be smart to give him an answer soon.
The departure of Dave Bacon did not cause the panic it might have a year or two earlier. In fact, with his possible replacement at hand, the bandmembers barely broke a sweat. Muc, Bunt, and Chi Pig felt that they could change up the rhythm section without seriously affecting the way the band sounded. Although Dave Bacon was technically the better musician, they were sure that Curtis could learn the songs with a bit of practice. And SNFU loved to rehearse.
Curtis Creager may not have been in the same league as his future bandmates, but music ran in his family. His older brother played guitar and drums, although not in a band, and his pitch-perfect mother and grandfather were accomplished whistlers. One of his two sisters played the piano when she was younger, and the house was always filled with music. The Creagers may not have been professional recording artists, but they appreciated many different genres, and music was very important to them.
Curtis’ mother passed away when he was thirteen, but his sister fought hard to take legal custody of her little brother, even though she was young to take on such a great responsibility. Twenty-three year old Joanne Creager didn’t want her little brother to end up in a foster home, so she did what she thought was right. “I still think she was absolutely nuts for doing that, but I thank her profusely,” says Creager. “We’ve always been close. She’s my hero.” Then, because Joanne’s husband was writing his thesis on botany at the University of Alberta, the trio moved to Edmonton from St. Petersburg, Florida in 1979. The change in climate was a huge shock, but the Creagers sucked it up and forced themselves to adapt. Edmonton was a brave new world.
A younger classmate at Strathearn Junior High School named Evan C. Jones looked a bit weird, but Curtis eventually learned that Evan was part of the local punk scene. “I knew who Evan was, but I didn’t really meet him until grade eleven when I started sneaking out and going to shows,” says Creager. Evan was the drummer for SNFU, and everyone knew they were the top punks in town. Curtis was impressed.
Bored and antisocial, Curtis was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged member of the tribe. Punk music appealed to him in a huge way, and the scene seemed like non-stop excitement. He still didn’t know Ken Chinn personally, but as well as being the frontman for SNFU, the singer was renowned in skating circles as the guy who could turn the most spin 360s consecutively. In his last year of school, at age seventeen, Curtis decided to remain in Edmonton when Joanne and her husband moved to Montreal. “I can barely speak English, let alone French, so I stayed behind,” jokes Curtis. “I was totally into the punk scene and didn’t want to go anywhere.” He was entitled to receive his mother’s social security cheques as long as he stayed in school, so it made sense to finish grade twelve. Although his sister was hardly strict, the freedom and independence he now enjoyed was fantastic.
School ended, and so did the social security cheques, prompting Curtis to collect welfare and move into the Nose Dive with Marc Belke, Chuck Andrewski, and Tim Dutka. Rent was much cheaper when sharing accommodations with a bunch of dirty punks, especially at a rundown dump like the Nose Dive. “The rent was only $63 each,” Curtis remembers wistfully. Deciding that the best thing to do under t
he circumstances would be to join or form a band, Curtis looked around to make that a reality. Soon he was trying to play bass in Freddy Krueger’s Right Hand, doing his level best just to keep up. Maybe he could learn the instrument if he tried hard enough.
The boys eventually moved from the Nose Dive to the Bella Brie Apartments, which was a small apartment building comprised of three separate suites, all of them punk occupied. Not far from the Nose Dive in the same downtown area, the Bella Brie was a haven for bands passing through town. The punks didn’t last long there either, however, and they soon moved again, this time to the Red Room House. Punks seemed to move a lot. Meanwhile, Freddy Krueger’s Right Hand mutated into Urban Holiday and the noise continued. To Curtis’ surprise, he began to learn the bass guitar for real. In fact, the band sounded so good that they accepted an offer to support SNFU in Calgary, where Bacon saw him play.
But Curtis Creager worried about quitting Urban Holiday. As much as he would love to play music full time, Curtis braced himself for the explosion that would surely follow when he told his bandmates that he wanted to leave for greener pastures. When he nervously brought up the subject at band practice, the bassist was surprised when his fellow bandmembers excitedly encouraged him to accept the offer. One of theirs had been inducted into the Punk Rock Mafia, which would elevate their own status simply by association. “They were ecstatic,” says the bassist, recalling the relief he felt. They were also happy because Curtis could put them on the guest list for SNFU shows, where they could hang out backstage drinking free beer and whatnot. This could only be a good thing.
Curtis was deeply grateful to his friends for understanding. He told Muc that he would be happy to join the band, and rehearsal began immediately. Time was of the essence if SNFU wanted to cut a new album. In fact, another tour was already in the works, and since Curtis was originally from Florida, he would have no problems at the border. All the new bassist had to do was learn the songs.