by Chris Walter
Denis was also planning an exit strategy. He’d about had it with city life in general and SNFU in particular. There was money to be made tattooing in the Northwest Territories, and the pace was much slower. He loved the isolation and serenity, the rugged beauty of the landscape. Maybe he could get a fresh start in Yellowknife, some 2,335 kilometres distant. Still, he didn’t want to leave his boss in the lurch, and agreed to work at the shop until Scott could find a suitable replacement. Soon enough, the bass player would be away from the screaming ambulances and crowded sidewalks.
Looking for a brighter spot on the horizon, Goony packed his bags and flew out of YVR with Isolation 3 in early February. The band landed in Europe and played a handful of dates before moving on to Japan. On February 20th, Goony met a local beauty at one of their shows and fell head over heels in love. Although the two just met, Goony was soon talking about marriage, and everyone thought he was out of his mind. On March 14th, however, a massive earthquake occurred off the coast of northeastern Japan, scuttling the tour and sending the musicians scrambling for flights home. While the band was not affected directly by the quake, the entire country was in a panic.
Denis returned from a month-long vacation in Costa Rica. The place was so great that he went by himself just to unwind. With all the members in Vancouver again, plans for another tour slowly took shape. Chi was not healthy enough for a cross-country affair, so they decided just to take a little stroll up to Regina and back. For the amount of gas they would burn, it wasn’t worthwhile to drive all the way to Winnipeg. In the meantime, Chi continued to hold court at his favourite bars, drinking plenty but eating little. His liver was preparing for a showdown.
To warm up for the tour, SNFU played a gig with the Epitomes and Life Against Death at Funky Winker Beans on June 11th. Chi Pig was extra hammered that night, and was useless as a result. “I think I ended up singing most of that set,” says Sean Colig. The band struggled gamely along, but Jon put down his sticks after completing fewer than six songs. Although the show was in complete shambles, the fans still wanted more, and Sean isn’t sure if they knew the show was over. The boys in the band went home that night wondering what the upcoming tour would be like. The situation was not looking good.
A month later, SNFU finally hit the road, but Denis says he knew that something bad would happen before they even left town. “Chi wasn’t well,” says the bassist. “His colour wasn’t good.” The tour opened in Kamloops on July 20th, and the singer was on his best behaviour. “That show was great, but we knew there was still a long way to go,” says the bassist. Calgary was also good, and so was the show in Edmonton. Evan C. Jones, who had not shared a stage with Chi Pig in twenty-six years, joined the band for “Cannibal Café,” delighting everyone present. “The crowd went great fuckin’ apeshit, and they were all singing along as we played. Everyone was smiling, and there were fuckin’ great cheers of good fuckin’ fun. It was a one-off chance to see some classic punk rock just for that sparkle of a moment,” says Evan, remembering the night warmly. Jon Card watched with amusement from the side of the stage, not begrudging Evan his moment in the limelight. “A lot of people from Chi’s past came out of the woodwork for that show,” remembers Denis. The evening did much to heal old wounds and make things whole again. As of July 2012, SNFU has not been back to Edmonton, so the timing couldn’t have been better.
On the road again, Chi began pounding the beers at a steady rate. The shows became sloppy and chaotic, marked by drunken rants and jokes that only the singer understood. Pushing through Red Deer and Canmore, the band wanted to finish the rest of the dates and get home before Chi completely lost the plot. With two days off, however, the band returned to Edmonton, and the guys hung with Cameron Noyes and other friends of Chi’s. The guys were hopeful that the singer’s old pals might help him see that he needed to slow down a little. Instead, the opposite occurred and he proceeded to get utterly annihilated. “He was out of control,” says Denis, shaking his head sadly.
In Fort McMurray on July 28th, Chi got through the show without too much trouble, even though he’d done a fair bit of boozing beforehand. “Chi had some hairy bears to entertain, so he was in good form that night,” Denis remembers. The band loaded up and left Fort Mac, counting the days and hours before this train wreck was over. Luckily, the tour was a short one, and they only had a few more stops. Alas, they wouldn’t finish.
Before the show in Saskatoon, the guys stopped in to see Denis’ family, and were treated like visiting diplomats. That night, the band made it through the show okay, and everything seemed to be going all right. Partly to save money on hotels and partly so Denis could see his dad a bit longer, the gang spent the night at the Nowoselski residence. “Sean was off chasing girls, so he wasn’t with us,” recalls Denis. Sometime in the middle of the night, Chi realized that he was very sick. “I couldn’t go to sleep because I was sure that I was going to die. I thought I would never wake up,” says Chi, his voice quavering at the memory. The singer survived the long, terrible night but asked to be taken to the hospital first thing in the morning. His body was crapping out. “That morning was brutal fucking hell,” says the frontman.
The guys took Chi to the Emergency Room at the Royal University Hospital and returned to the Nowoselskis to cancel the remaining dates. There was no way the singer would be well enough to perform that night. The guys returned a few hours later to learn that the singer was in quarantine. “There was a note on the door barring anyone who wasn’t wearing gowns and gloves,” says Denis. “Meanwhile, we’d been travelling with him for at least a week.” When Goony and Denis donned protective gear and entered the room, they were saddened to see their friend in such bad shape. On top of pneumonia, the singer had a bad infection, and needed plenty of rest. “He was also extremely dehydrated, and was receiving antibiotics and other stuff intravenously,” says Denis. Goony even remembers that Chi was trying to put on his gold lamé suit. “Chi was so delusional that he thought we were coming to get him to finish the tour!” says the guitarist. The guys told Chi that the rest of the tour was cancelled, and that he should concentrate on getting well. Reluctantly, the singer fell back into bed.
A day later, the boys went to visit Chi, and the nurses were very happy to see them. The singer had been trying to dress, certain that his band had a show in Regina that night. He might have been half-dead, but his work ethic could not be faulted. Chi wanted to do the show even if it killed him, and it probably would have. The date had already come and gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it now. This time, SNFU really seemed to be finished.
The band could not afford to stay in Saskatoon while Chi recuperated, and though they hated to leave him behind, they returned to Vancouver after three days. The guys worried that Chi might leave the hospital too early, but they couldn’t sign papers to keep him there because they weren’t family members. The singer could leave whenever he pleased, even though he badly needed bed rest.
Back in Vancouver, the musicians discussed the future of SNFU. They did not want to continue unless Chi could get healthy again, but they balked at telling him he couldn’t drink. The band wasn’t a dictatorship. Besides, Chi was the only original member, so technically, he could fire them all and hire another band should he decide to take that route. All the same, they couldn’t work with him either. Doctors warned Denis that Chi could go septic and die from toxic shock if he didn’t deal with his medical issues. To put it mildly, the man was very sick.
Needless to say, the guys were extremely shocked when Chi Pig returned to Vancouver within twenty-four hours. The singer went straight to the bar and got himself a beer. While he claimed that he wanted to get better, his desire to have a beer and cigarette trumped that wish. “My dad actually babysat him from the time he left the hospital until the time he got on the airplane,” says Denis. “Chi needed a few beers before he got on the plane because he was detoxing, but at least he was looking a little better.” SNFU still had obligations on Vancouver Island,
but the odds of the band making those shows seemed slim. Aside from those dates, the band still owed wendythirteen for the show Chi had messed up on June 11th. As it turned out, that was the only one they would honour.
On August 13th, 2011, SNFU returned to Funky Winker Beans, but no one knew that this would be the band’s last show for a very long time. Wendy’s daughter Seleighne was celebrating her twenty-first birthday that night, and Chi was under pressure to deliver a good performance. Luckily, the singer went light on the booze and was later overheard telling patrons at Pub 340 that he “sang like a bird” that night. Because of his recent medical issues, the singer jokingly told Wendy that he wanted a bag of Depends on the rider. When Chi saw that Wendy had actually supplied the Depends, he passed them out to members of the audience, many of whom wore the disposable diapers over their street clothes. “One punk stripped down and was naked except for the Depends. Another punk wore them home on the bus and peed in them to see how absorbent they were,” laughs Wendy. “The last show was great,” says Jon Card. “Cambie from Savannah came up and played guitar with us, and Billy Hopeless was pouring beer on my head and in my mouth.” Seleighne had a fine birthday party.
Still, the Depends gag would have been funnier if Chi weren’t so sick. He had stopped taking his antibiotics, and was carrying on as wildly as before. In fact, a nurse who attended Chi at the hospital in Saskatoon just happened to wind up at Funky Winker Beans on vacation. The nurse was shocked to see her ex-patient jumping around on the stage with a microphone. “At the first opportunity, she told Chi straight to his face that he should still be in the hospital,” says Denis, completely agreeing that the nurse was right. Even though the singer was no longer contagious, he should have been resting, preferably in a hospital.
After the show, SNFU all but dissolved. Goony moved to Japan in September and married his sweetheart. Interestingly, they were both born on October 23rd, exactly ten years apart. “My wife is the most amazing person ever,” says Goony. “I’m very happy and very lucky.” Meanwhile, Denis took another work trip to Yellowknife, and decided to make the small northern city his home. He returned to Vancouver, tidied up his affairs, and moved there permanently. Away from the hustle and bustle of city life, the artist tried his best to forget about the madness of touring. Goony said he would be back when the time was right, and the band still had plans to record, but it all depended on Chi.
There was still hope that SNFU might release new material. Goony returned from Japan in March of 2012, and SNFU entered the recording studio to record five brand-new tracks. While Chi has not yet added his vocals, he is apparently writing lyrics and brainstorming ideas. If the band does release an EP in the summer of 2012, it will be the first by the current line-up, and the only title to be released under the SNFU banner since 2004’s In the Meantime and In Between Time. Fans can only hope things go well. The band also booked a number of Canadian shows, including a make-up show in Regina, and a summer festival in Alberta.
For now, the boys are busy with life. Jon Card continues to work for the Portland Hotel Society, which houses addicts with mental health issues. Music producer Sean Colig is also a floorwalker for the Army & Navy retail store in Vancouver’s colourful DTES, Denis tattoos the locals in Yellowknife, and Goony is a bartender at a karaoke bar in Kochi, Japan. “People give me good tips for singing The Beatles, Aerosmith, or The Monkees,” laughs Goony.
Lying on the mattress in his room on the Downtown Eastside, Mr. Chi Pig stares up at the ceiling and contemplates the future. “To tell you the truth, I’m not feeling too good at this point in time. I’m getting older, and I have fatigue. I understand that I have to slow down,” the singer says reflectively. “My body is in some pain, but I have my ID sorted out, and I’ll be seeing a doctor within the next two days.” On the subject of his health, Chi is not evasive. “The guys are worried about me, and we can’t do this thing unless I get better,” he says, his voice suddenly full of emotion. “My health is the most important thing right now, but I also need to get my false teeth replaced.”
Despite the current state of affairs, we can see that Chi Pig and Marc Belke succeeded beyond their wildest expectations. The idea that an authority-hating teenager who skipped school to practice guitar could team up with a skateboarding kleptomaniac to become Edmonton’s most beloved and enduring punk export is the stuff of dreams. For any punk group to slug it out for more than two decades with only minor commercial success takes an incredible amount of fortitude and more than a little stubbornness. While SNFU sold more than 250,000 albums worldwide, those sales were not enough to support anything beyond the most humble existence, and money was never a motivating factor. Even the love of their fans did not compel SNFU to grind it out year after year in dingy clubs on four continents. Rather, the band lived for the moment when the stage lights snapped on and the adrenaline kicked in. There was no substitute for that massive rush, and nothing could ever replace it. Ultimately, SNFU kept going simply because they loved what they were doing. Nothing else even came close.
On June 10th, SNFU announced that the band will be performing nine shows across Western Canada on the aptly named When Pigs Can Fly tour. The launch for this book is the final stop, and we hope to see you all at Funky Thrasherbalts on July 21st, 2012. No one is sure just how many shows the band will play after that. Long tours seem out of reach, but nothing can be ruled out.
These days, Chi Pig is a local celebrity at any number of Downtown Eastside bars, and can be found singing karaoke at Funky Winker Beans most Thursday nights. Those who would condemn the singer for his drinking have not walked a mile in his combat boots, and do not comprehend the various issues he faces. “I’m looking for that perfect balance in life, and I don’t think I’ll ever find it,” the singer says with regret. Whatever the case, the legendary performer—the singer admired by thousands of devoted fans, has his work cut out for him if he wishes to continue blessing audiences with his magic. He needs simply to find inspiration from within. The future remains unwritten.
Acknowledgments
When I first saw SNFU in the summer of 1983, I had no idea that they would accomplish as much as they did. Sure, I was impressed at the talent and showmanship they wielded so effortlessly, but if Personality Crisis couldn’t make it, then what chance did these pups have? The idea that SNFU would sell hundreds of thousands of albums and tour the world for decades was laughable. I didn’t mind that the members of SNFU were doomed to die in the gutter like dogs, and I continued to see them whenever they came to Winnipeg. All was as it should be. Then, in 1987, something weird happened. I didn’t mind that the band was tighter and more polished, but the venue was packed with non-punk type people. Instead of slamming in the pit, I stood watching from the back like a regular geek. Who were these guys, and what happened to SNFU? I’d lost them.
I didn’t see Chi Pig again until we met on a Vancouver city bus in ‘93. We spoke only briefly, but Chi looked well. Although I wasn’t a huge fan in those days, I didn’t begrudge SNFU their success. They were making music they liked, and it wasn’t their fault if people were paying them to do it. I ran into Chi every once in a while after that, and we were always able to pick up where we’d left off, as if hours rather than years had passed. Chi was still a punk singer and I was still a fucking drug addict. Later, of course, Chi also ran into problems with drugs, so we had something in common again. For me to lose track of music was one thing, but for Chi it was a catastrophe.
I didn’t see SNFU at the Cobalt when they reformed in 2004, even though I’d cleaned up by then. My girl went without me, and said later that she’d never seen the place so packed. She also raved enthusiastically about the band. Coincidentally, I saw Chi Pig at the supermarket a day later and we talked for a long time. He was clearly overjoyed to be onstage again, and I was happy for him. Nevertheless, the Cobalt is hardly GM Place, and it was obvious that SNFU would never be the next Green Day. I hated to admit it, but I felt closer to them. They were one of us after all.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I went to see SNFU with my girl several months later. I was shocked to see how old Chi Pig seemed with his beard and long hair. Marc Belke, on the other hand, looked young enough to be one of the hired guns onstage that night. Marc and Chi, of course, were the old pros, strutting their stuff as if they’d never stopped. The band sounded great, as did the new album. At that moment, as I stood watching the show, it dawned on me that the story of SNFU would be a compelling one. What I didn’t consider was the roller coaster of emotions that I would experience while writing it. From the highest highs to the lowest lows, I emerged on the other side with a better understanding of what it takes to be a dedicated punk musician. More than anything I have ever written, this book has been an exciting but painful reminder that life is about the choices we make and the effort we put into it. Everything else is just fate.
I would like to thank the underpaid and overworked grunts at GFY Press for making this book possible. Editors Rachel Shoemaker, Jen Dodds, Robynn Elaschuk, Allan MacInnis, and Sheldon Birnie did the best they could with the rambling, disjointed manuscript, and if the book is readable, it is because of them. Proofreaders Jason “Eagle Eyes” Crane and Denis Maile were very helpful, but a few typos probably slipped past, just as they do in every book. Digital assistance was provided by Pete Digiboy and David Giesbrecht, who must be congratulated for their patience. Schoolmarm Cheratra Yaswen settled grammatical disputes.
Thanks also to everyone who endured my endless and seemingly pointless enquiries: Jay Staples, Rod Gillis, Dave Leslie, Lesley Bell, Paul Balanchuk, Damian Saiz, Richard Liukko, Ken Painter, Cam Nikkel, Bif Naked, Tom Pitts, Mike Lambert, Iori Kokotailo, Aaron Chapman, Erik Iversen, Tim Chiba, Cara McDonald, Colleen Britton, Lennon Marshall, Bobbie Belke, Brent Belke, Marc Belke, Mike McDonald, Evan C. Jones, Diyls Jones, Norm Simm, Ken Chinn, David Boswell, Dave Mockford, John Armstrong, Brett Gurewitz, Moe Berg, Ian Tiles, Keith Morris, Ron Reyes, “Brett Lober” Hopkins, Bob Montgomery, Carlos Soria, Dave Dutton-Fraser, Dave Henry, Shawn Stern, Dave Bacon, Jimmy Schmitz, Cecil English, Paul Karpinski, Mark Smith, Ronald Ramage, Roszay Baumgartner, Stephen Perry, Otto, Mark Langtry, Kevin Person, Slavek Branicki, Simon Head, Duncan Pimlott, Ken Fleming, Marty Chatrin, Bruce McDonald, Monk, Curtis Creager, Al Angus, Dana Bell, Otis Rawding, Collin Slack, Gubby Szvoboda, Hudley Flipside, Ford Pier, PD, “Dabey Boy” Rees, Rob Johnson, Sean Stubbs, Chris Thompson, Trevor McGregor, Denis Nowoselski, Jon Card, Sean Colig, Trent Buhler, Brian Kassian, Brian Toogood, Dave Fortune, Jim Norton, Dan DeVloo, Brian Downey, Matt Carter, Steve Chase, Renee Poirer, Alex Pullar, Cat Ashbee, Dan Moyse, Jay Black, Jee-P Hold A Grudge, Mikey Moogent, Chad Sluys, Gardo la Gosse, Dan Pavlis, Robyn Moisey, Tyler Mitchell, Michael Hanson, Doc Chiodo, Tony Lorenz, Denis Maile, Greg Cox, Suzanne Kirkwood, Brian McCallum, Shane Smith, Matt Warhurst, Mary-Anne Korosi, Jake Braun, Mark Sommer, Benny Sievert, Jonathan Wregglesworth, Sean Shaul, Denyss McKnight, Mr. Plow, John Tard, Graeme MacKinnon, Chad Mareels, Dominic LeBlanc, Joshua Nickel, and Nardwuar too.