Snfu

by Chris Walter

  Rehearsals went well at first, which was a little surprising since several of the members were hardcore drug users. Using lyrics pieced together from Chi Pig’s scrapbook, the group began to write songs. Although drugs weren’t the problem, Donut lost interest in the group and began to miss practices. When he failed to heed several warnings, the band replaced him with veteran percussionist and ex-Winnipegger Kerr Belliveau, and practice continued. Several months later, in April of 1990, they played a fundraiser for Skull Skates’ owner PD at the Nappy Dugout. The band was well received, and Chi felt that the group had a bright future. “I still have my Don’t Fuck With The Wongs cassette, T-shirt, and fridge magnet, as well as the master for their album,” says PD. “Great band!”

  The Wongs only played a total of perhaps seventeen shows, and some of those took place when the band toured with Gorilla Gorilla in the fall of 1990. Bif Naked, who was singing for Gorilla Gorilla at the time, describes how she and Chi Pig became close friends. “Chi informed my decision to become a ‘straight edge’ at twenty-two years old. That likely saved my life, especially in the early nineties when all the guys around us were doing dope.” Although Chi Pig wasn’t exactly drug-free himself at the time, drugs were not yet a problem.

  On August 14th The Wongs did a show at Club Soda before setting off with Gorilla Gorilla for Calgary, Edmonton, Saskatoon, and Winnipeg. “Chi Pig was likely an unwilling guru, but his influence helped shape me—more than any other performer and artist ever has or will,” says Bif, reflecting on her relationship with the singer. “He also introduced me to my lifelong friend, Gail Greenwood, and her One Ton Shotgun band mate, Chil Mott.”

  Before long, The Wongs were back in Vancouver, where Kerr Belliveau began to complain that the band was not earning enough money. The drummer was right, but other than playing regularly and trying to move forward, there wasn’t much they could do about the situation. Like most bands, The Wongs were waiting for a break that would never come.

  With nothing important to keep him in town, Chi sold merch for DOA on what was supposed to have been their final tour. The ex-SNFU singer was not the best merch guy in the world and spent most of his time plugging The Wongs. People already knew about DOA, so Chi felt it was his duty to tell them about The Wongs. Some DOA fans, of course, recognized the singer and wanted to know what had happened to SNFU. Chi was a bit sick of those questions.

  One day while living on Graveley Street, Chi Pig received a phone call from an American named Todd, who wanted to know if Chi would be interested in doing an SNFU single. The “Life of a Bag Lady” EP was a bootleg, but it was a bootleg with my permission,” explains the singer. “The only reason I did it was because I thought that early song should be heard. I did all the fucking artwork on that thing.” In fact, “Life of a Bag Lady” had previously been released on the 1987 She’s Not on the Menu EP. The bootleg eventually emerged with “Strip Search” and “Grunt, Groan, Rant & Rave” on the B-side. Curiously, both songs on the B-side played backwards, which sounded bizarre to say the least. “If you were stoned, that shit would trip you out,” laughs Chi Pig, clearly amused by his punk rock equivalent to Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music. The singer received a lump sum for the EP, but the Belkes weren’t very happy about it.

  When The Wongs had enough material for a demo, they enlisted producer Cecil English and booked recording time at Profile Studios. The other members were far from rich, but Kevin scraped the money together, and they laid all eight bed tracks in one afternoon. Pleased with the results, and proud to have come so far in such a short time, the band released the songs on the limited edition cassette Don’t Fuck With The Wongs, which references the cult movie The Warriors. They searched without luck for a record label.

  Despite the lack of industry support, Chi Pig was happy to be making music again. In April he took a telephone call from Randy Boyd in Montreal, who gently reminded the singer that SNFU still owed Cargo a record as per their two-album contract, and wondered if the band had any unreleased material kicking around. Remembering that he had a tape of SNFU’s last performance at the Polish Hall in 1989, Chi suggested that they combine it with material culled from other sources to make a whole album. Randy liked the idea and offered the band a $10,000 advance. The project was on. The money arrived fairly quickly and was divided among the members of SNFU. Chi was supposed to do the artwork for the cover, but continued to smoke pot and rehearse with The Wongs instead, neglecting the project. Finally, Randy Boyd phoned to demand that Chi return the money if he couldn’t supply the artwork as promised. Since the money was up in smoke and there was no way he could repay it, Chi Pig eventually picked up his crayons and got to work. Despite his procrastination, the cover came out well.

  Cecil English produced the new album, taking the rough tracks and polishing them as best he could. The Last Of the Big Time Suspenders incorporated seven songs from the recording at the Polish Hall, a demo version of “The Electric Chair” from If You Swear You’ll Catch No Fish, “I’m Real Scared” from …And No One Else Wanted To Play, and the version of “She’s Not on the Menu” from the EP by the same name. They also added three outtakes from Better Than a Stick In the Eye, including a cover of “Wonder What They’re Thinking” by underground rock legends Personality Crisis. SNFU had been playing the opening track, “Kitchen Kreeps,” before they broke up, and this would be the only recording of that song. The fourth track, “Gimme Some Water,” was an Eddie Money song that sounded better than anything the mainstream schlockmeister ever did. “I Know More Than You” and “I Used To Write Songs” were also exclusive to the recording.

  In the fall of 1991, the album was finally released. While The Last Of the Big Time Suspenders was not a brand-new studio recording, at least it was something new from a group that had become increasingly popular after death. Although the album was a patchy affair and the mix less-than-perfect, fans starved for new product were pleased with even this stale offering. To be fair, the tracks sounded surprisingly good for a live recording, and the band did not sound burnt out in the slightest. Listening to the album, fans could only wonder about the diabolical forces that had motivated such a powerful band to break up.

  By 1991, Tim Chiba had seen the ugly side of the music business. He’d met his share of shady promoters, and been ripped off more than once. Although Tim had toured with SNFU as a member of the Desperate Minds in 1989, he and Sean Holowaychuk were now performing under the name Chikara. The pair opened for The Wongs at The Cruel Elephant on January 26th, with Sean playing his acoustic guitar and Tim on an electric instrument. Despite it all, Tim Chiba was happy to be making music. He didn’t know it, but he would soon join forces with Chi Pig.

  On Friday, March 8th, The Wongs played a big show, opening for The Screaming Trees, Nirvana, and the Doughboys at the Commodore Ballroom. As noted earlier, the Wheat Chiefs were supposed to appear on that bill, but The Wongs got the spot instead, which didn’t do much to ease relations between the two parties. While fans waiting to see the Doughboys and Nirvana largely ignored The Wongs, the band did what they could to woo the audience and win fans. The Wongs might not have electrified the crowd the way SNFU would have, but at least nobody left the building. “The Screaming Trees were the walk-out band,” recalls Chi Pig. The singer also remembers that Nirvana played “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” but no one in attendance had any idea just how huge that song would become. Even though the massively successful Nevermind wouldn’t be released until September that year, a tremendous underground buzz had already formed around the Seattle grunge band. The Screaming Trees may have been headlining the event, but the crowd was clearly there to see Nirvana.

  Not long after the Nirvana gig, on Kevin Rose’s birthday, Chi Pig was unceremoniously tossed from The Wongs. The singer feels that Kevin simply wasn’t that serious about music—a hypothesis partly supported by the fact that the band Kevin formed with ex-Black Flag singer Ron Reyes in Los Angeles directly following The Wongs also failed. “The project was called Crash Bang
Crunch Pop. We recorded an album with Greg Ginn producing, but we broke up before it was mixed,” says Ron Reyes. “The band just kind of fizzled out when Kevin moved back to Canada to be with his future wife.” Home in Vancouver, Kevin slowly abandoned his rock and roll dreams. It has also been suggested that the guitarist dissolved The Wongs because he and the other members didn’t like Ken’s lyrics, but that theory remains unproven. For Ken Chinn, the particulars weren’t really that important. All he knew was that he was back where he started.

  After putting up posters around town expressing his desire to front a band, Chi Pig hooked up with drummer Brian O’Brien and ex-Euthanasia bassist Cam Boddy in the spring of 1991. Around that time, the singer also began to run into Tim Chiba, who had moved to Vancouver and lived only a block and a half away from Chi on Grant Street. The pair often stopped to gossip, and when ex-DOA and DayGlo Abortions’ guitarist Chris Prohom failed to show for an audition, Tim was asked to join the group. “Chi had a Purolator envelope filled with scraps of poems and songs, so we just picked through them to find lyrics that we liked,” Tim remembers. “Obviously, Chi had a say in what we used, but that was one of the ways we worked out songs.”

  To name the group, each band member submitted three possibilities. Actor Joe Landon died on July 1st, 1991, and although none of the members were huge fans of the Bonanza TV series, the name Little Joe won out over the other entries. The band rehearsed intensely over the next month and a half, debuting at The Cruel Elephant on August 17th. “The place wasn’t packed, but the response was positive, and Paul [manager of the Cruel Elephant] loved us so much that he booked us to open for Coffin Break on September 1st,” recalls Tim Chiba. That show also went swimmingly, and although Epitaph recording artists Coffin Break knew Chi Pig from SNFU, they didn’t know that a reformed SNFU would eventually sign with Epitaph as well. Coffin Break disbanded in 1993, however, and the two bands were not on the label at the same time.

  Around this period, the singer also met “Lon,” who would be his on-again off-again boyfriend for the next five years. “He was from Calgary, so we shouldn’t have liked each other but we did,” jokes Chi Pig, reminding readers of the long-standing rivalry between Edmonton and Calgary. It was an open relationship, and the two were free to do as they pleased while Chi was on the road.

  One day in early September, Chi Pig got another telephone call, this one from Canadian booking agent James Maclean, who had drummed for October Crisis and had booked tours for SNFU in the past. After the usual pleasantries, James told Chi that buzz from The Last of the Big Time Suspenders had prompted clubowners to offer some tempting guarantees. In conjunction with the grunge movement, punk was popular again, and SNFU had a new legion of fans that had never seen them perform. Would the band be willing to reunite for a one-off tour? The agent was ready to move forward; all they had to do was say the word.

  Chi Pig didn’t have to think about it for longer than three seconds, but he still had to see if the others were interested. The singer told James that he would call back with an answer soon. Chi then phoned the Belkes, prepared to beg, plead, or threaten, but the brothers were surprisingly agreeable. Without much fuss at all, they promised to clear their schedules and commit to the tour. James MacLean then hooked the band up with American booking agent Lisa Miller of Frontier Booking Inc., who went to work confirming the dates. “That tour was great, and Lisa did a kick ass job,” says Brent. However, there was no talk about reforming SNFU on a permanent basis. This would only be one last kick at the can, just to say goodbye to the fans they missed the first time.

  Although Chi’s bandmates in Little Joe weren’t pleased when he told them that SNFU was planning to tour again, they couldn’t blame him. Besides, the tour was only two months long, and then the singer would be back. Muc and Bunt were also excited about the upcoming tour, but Dave and Trent not so much. Unwilling to give up the Wheat Chiefs, the Belkes assured Dave and Trent that the band would continue upon their return. The pair grumbled quietly but backed away from open mutiny. For now.

  Little Joe headlined a gig at The Cruel Elephant on Wednesday, November 20th, mostly to prove that the band was still together. A highlight for fans came later that month when Chi Pig and Bif Naked sang “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” together. Chi Pig remembers the evening well. “I picked Bif up and carried her around on my shoulders. The other guys asked how I ended up with Bif against my neck, and I told them it was because I was gay!” Bif, meanwhile, had other concerns. “I was very worried that I was too fat for this feat of strength on Chi’s part. This was the same year I started to stumble down my decades-long path of anorexia and eating disorders that I still struggle with today.” Later, Chi drops the jokes. “I have a lot of respect for Bif both as an artist and as a person. We’ve been friends for a very long time.”

  After the show, Chi Pig turned his full attention to the upcoming tour. One of the people he called for help was a publicist named Dave Fortune, who would eventually play a bigger role in SNFU. They still needed a rhythm section, so Marc phoned Curtis Creager and Jon Card. DOA had recently broken up, and Jon was a free agent now. Creager was a little less eager, but the bass player eventually agreed to meet the band in Vancouver. The line-up was complete.

  Although it was Jon Card who got the nod, Marc Belke regrets that they didn’t go with Ted Simm instead. “I was pushing for Jon, who is one of the greatest drummers ever. But in the long run, Ted would have been a lot less problematic, and it wasn’t as if we couldn’t have brought him out from Winnipeg,” says the guitarist. Chi Pig, however, was also pulling for Jon, whose company and drumming he preferred. “Card was a fucking mess, but he’s a great guy, and he eventually got his shit together,” says the singer.

  In late November, Jon Card took his son Harlow to stay with his parents in Calgary. In order to sound as good as possible, he needed to devote himself fully to the project. Eager to get down to business, the band rented time at Fir Street Studios, a rehearsal space on Vancouver’s West Side that charged by the hour. Unfortunately, they couldn’t leave the gear set up, and the clock started ticking the second they walked in the door. Still, the space was clean and they could play loudly without having to worry about noise complaints. Jon Card arrived with his drums and jammed with Muc and Chi while waiting for Brent and Curtis.

  When the entire band was finally in town, SNFU squeezed in a few practices. Although the relationships between some of the guys were slightly tainted, the guys were all relieved to learn that the magic was still there. With the amplifiers cranked to eleven, and with Jon pounding holes in the ozone with his kick drum, SNFU did not sound at all like a band ready for retirement. Rather, the boys were ready to take on the world.

  Because they anticipated The Wrong Turn Down Memory Lane Tour to be chaotic and busy, SNFU would enlist the help of roadie Gentleman Jim Norton and road manager Curtis McGlothlin AKA Skippy Smooth, who usually worked with the Doughboys. Although the pair took up precious space in the crowded van, both were consummate professionals who made life much easier for the band. With his neat red goatee and South Virginian drawl, Skippy reminded Brent Belke of a younger, hipper Colonel Sanders, but the man was not selling chicken. Rather, Skippy would magically appear whenever a slippery club owner attempted to sneak fifty unpaid guests in the back door, or tried some other shifty nonsense. Skippy once cleared the entire balcony of a venue after someone lobbed a bottle onto the stage. “Because of Skippy, the club only allowed people to take plastic cups onto the balcony after that,” says Bunt Belke. “He really knew how to get things done.”

  The tour started in Vancouver, and the band easily sold out the Commodore Ballroom. Fans were delighted to see the band again, and the size of the audience had doubled. SNFU left Vancouver in Earl Grey that night and reached the US border, where American roadie Gentleman Jim Norton crossed separately with-out incident in the van loaded with gear and T-shirts. After meeting up with Jim in Bellingham, the group continued onwards without delay.


  Although the musicians weren’t surprised that the Vancouver show had been sold out, there were still some uncertainties as to whether or not the American dates would be as successful. Those doubts were laid to rest when promoters in Seattle turned people away at the door, and the show in Tacoma, Washington was also sold out. Merch flew from the tables in vast quantities, and the guys saw that they would have to restock sooner rather than later. Thanks to the reemergence of punk, SNFU had a new generation of supporters.

  The gigs in Portland, Oregon and San Francisco were also crowded and lively. Although the musicians recognized a few faces, the large majority seemed to be newcomers to the scene. A groundswell of support had grown up around the band seemingly overnight, and they could do no wrong. Not that SNFU didn’t give fans value for their money. The band was in fine form, blazing energetically through the hits as if running marathons or stoking boilers. Like sonic vampires, they fed on the energy of the crowd, soaking it up and spitting it out. Compared to the half-empty venues the musicians had experienced with their new projects, these densely packed shows were a welcome and wonderful change.

  The show in San José, California was located in an industrial park, and though the bandmembers doubted that anyone would show up, the place was soon just as full as all the other venues had been. Although the members of SNFU realized that they had turned a corner somewhere, they were still surprised that fans would travel so far just to see them. An unknown band named Tool opened for SNFU that night. The LA band had only been together for about a year at that point, but they made a big impression on SNFU and their fans as well. “Tool was great. We were blown away by them,” Marc remembers. “They were very down-to-earth,” Chi Pig agrees. “I thought they were mystical.”

  The show in San Diego was fine, but Chi Pig mostly remembers an incident that happened in the parking lot afterwards. “Jon Card was talking to a guy from Winnipeg named Kane Boychuck, when Gentleman Jim whipped out his dick and pissed on Jon’s boot!” laughs the singer. “Sometimes Jim would throw full two-litre bottles of Pepsi against the wall just for kicks.”