3/10/2023 0 Comments Memoires vives radio canada![]() ![]() Humble beginnings, but a start nonetheless. I can still see us – my brother Marc, our friend Fernand and me – all three of us playing through the same Supro amplifier. This first adventure consisted of a three-song set, as a trio…I forget what we called ourselves, but we were paid a total of $10. Then one day, we were ready for the world and got offered a gig. We worked at figuring out the chords, the song structures and the vocal harmonies. We would buy records and spend spend hours, huddled around a record player, trying to pick apart the hit songs. I would get together with my brother and some friends. Even with all that, I had somehow managed to bury this interest in music quite well – I’m sure it had something to do with the fact I was going to make a fortune as a professional hockey player.īut everything changed the moment the Fab Four entered my life. ![]() We would spend months rehearsing for Christmas mass and that’s where I learned about vocal harmony and singing with other people. My earliest real singing experience was the church choir. But now, seeing those four guys from Liverpool with Nehru jackets and guitars putting out such a cool new sound, I was completely swept up in the wave that would follow. I’d never paid much attention to the instrument since the only thing I’d ever heard escaping from it were cowboy songs or folk music. The old flat-top was a relic of my dad’s early singing career. The day after that historic performance by The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, I had already made a cardboard air-guitar, which would eventually lead me to picking up the other guitar, the real one that had been gathering dust in a corner of the living room. ![]() Everyone my age remembers the moment when John, Paul, George and Ringo appeared on our black and white TV screens and were forever imbedded in our collective imagination. It stayed like that until that fateful Sunday night in February 1964 when it hit all of us like a lightning bolt. A wigne hein hein! That's how it went.Īfter that it was Elvis Presley and those late fifties white Brylcreem ballads and countryfied pop songs blaring out of my uncle’s car radio. And then there was that day when Claude Décoeur, a classmate, brought an old guitar to class and played Le Rapide blanc, a 1950’s radio hit in French Canada by a folksinger named Oscar Thiffault. That’s the first real spark I remember, about this fascination I have with song lyrics. I remember one of my teachers correcting the grammar on some Chuck Berry or Johnny Horton lyrics I’d copied. Going back to grade four and all the way through grade school, I would write down song lyrics in my school scribblers. ![]()
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