Sitting on pristine Seven Mile Beach in Grand Cayman provides an entirely different perspective on the current tragedy continuously unfolding just across the bay in Louisiana.  I am down here on a working vacation but there is no escape from the desperate image of an oil covered seabird struggling to take a breath while a poison black cloud continues to bleed from the bottom of the sea…for us.

I don’t follow any faith or creed, but years of forced indoctrination as a child have left certain myths burned into my psyche.  I always thought Genesis was a good story, especially the part where Adam and Eve get thrown out of the garden of Eden for getting naked.  If there really is a God and that be the measure of his punitive wrath, imagine how pissed he must be today.  We are spoiled children recklessly ruining the beautiful world we are charged with caring for.  A world we are obviously unworthy of.

Sad and ashamed here in Paradise.

s

The buzz is only now starting to subside.

Thanx to my many friends and family, my first US solo effort was a resounding success. The intimate Iota club was almost at capacity and I really felt like I was among family. Alan’s guest appearance made for some great jamming which we hardly ever get to do anymore and Murray’s cameo was belly laugh hysterical. I learned a lot and, most importantly,  thoroughly enjoyed my experience.  All in all, a fantastic way to kill a dreaded “day off”.

Very much looking forward to the upcoming Halifax and Ottawa shows in June.

feeling the love.

sean

Dirty Rotten Scoundrel Steve Martin slays the 70,000 strong with a blistering banjo attack and some real good lines. Elvis Costello struts trough the backstage dressed like Elton John’s date and proceeds to pummel what’s left of us into submission with his bluegrass backup band. This, is one of the best festivals in the world. This, my friends, is Merlefest.

It took us a few hours to catch up to the old time vibe down here. For the first six hours I was convinced that everyone I spoke to was hitting on me. In truth, they were just being extremely polite. Once my ego got over the initial disappointment of this realization, I embraced my inner picker and let myself be delivered into the heart of southern hospitality. I hope they ask us back again soon.

Tomorrow is my american solo debut @ the iota club in DC…..another large day.

s

Here’s exactly what went on for greatbigsean:

Thursday: Heavy Fog. 2 1/2 hour marathon hockey “practice” for the Juno Cup. Scored 3 goals. Met the Great Lakes Swimmers and befriended Tim and Paul from my favourite art rock band Wintersleep. Also got to catch up with my old friend (and excellent shot) Jonny Gallant from Billy Talent. Managed to work up a prodigious thirst which would be later sated over dinner with Warnerfolk at swanky Atlantica in Portugal cove. Jian Ghomeshi (CBC’s Q) seems impressed by the remarkable story of “how i met my wife” but it might have just been the excellent nova scotian sea bass. In bed by midnite. The Keegan alarm goes off at 5:30.

Friday: AM myself and Doyle do Q. The Fog persists so I present Jian with 250,000 mills of pharmecutical grade Vitamin D (a standard daily dose in these parts). My voice is shredded from a lingering cold (and wine drinking and storytelling) but I manage to deliver an emotive “Razor and Rust”. My first solo gig in almost 20 years. Rusty indeed. We celebrate over Large FCDGFO’s at Leo’s with Louis. Bad Idea.  7:00pm:  With gravy for blood I play the worst game of hockey of my career. Start a fight with Gary Roberts.Another Bad idea. In bed again by midnite. Denise Donlon hits the tarmac sideways at 3am. The Fin alarm goes off at six.

Saturday: The fog continues to confound would be juno participants from landing. My date with Jully Black is cancelled (after Ilearned to play “Seven day Fool” to impress her) . I do my second solo gig in 20 years at Fred’s on Duckworth with Keegan sitting on the floor right in front of me. My voice is rough but I manage a respectable delivery and remember almost all the words. The place is blocked. Janesta says we did well. Many Lullabies are sold. We celebrate at the juno gala dinner and reconnect with many old friends. End up at Blue with Jonny Gallant  and his lovely wife Alexis. Many bottles of Veuve Cliquot are vanquished. In bed by 2am. Andrea lets me sleep in until 8am.

Sunday: Prior to (the ridiculous) red carpet charade, Keegan and I take Janesta and some other nice mainlanders suffering from fog induced shock into the woods to run the hounds. The fresh air makes us all feel better and Tosh gets impressively filthy. Run into the Bare Naked’s walking down Lemarchant Rd. on the way home and Kevin blows Keegan’s mind by singing “Popcorn” to him. We successfully introduce our good friends and mentors Blue Rodeo at the awards show and get up to jam with them at Warner’s aftershow party. We have an excellent conversation with JB and then Ian and Ben from Billy Talent jump on stage to help me out with the Police classic “So Lonely”. The place goes up. No idea what time I went to bed.

and there it was……gone.

s

This Saturday April 17th has been deemed (by somebody) as “National Record Store Day” which means we all get to skip off work early and go drinking….in a record store….or something to that effect….at least in my mind. In any event, I have been honored by esteemed store manager and local musicologist Tony Ploughman with an invitation to perform within the hallowed halls of Fred’s Records on Duckworth St. at 2:00 pm to mark this auspicious occasion.

This will, in effect, be my first solo gig in almost 20 years and I can’t think of a better place to start…..again.

s

I have been remiss in not announcing this earlier. Anthem Machine and all round “Good People”  The Oysterband have once again graced our shores and we would all be foolish not to go and see them. Finer Tunesmiths ye shall not hear (I just received 2 new demo’s from guitar savant Alan Prosser that will fit nicely onto the next greatbigsean solo release). Now everyone please be sensible and go see this amazing band in action. Check www.oysterband.co.uk for concert listings near you.

s

“been down so long, being down don’t bother me”  gordon sumner

I think I know how Jesus felt.

Living through spring in Newfoundland is not unlike enduring a crucifixion and sleeping it off in a cold damp tomb. The past two weeks have been a “challenge” for sure But today, Good Friday, the sun has chosen to “Rise  Again” and drop rays of hope down on us all. Shovels sit nervously on doorsteps.People are out walking around in sneakers and smiling. The smell of thawing dogshit fills the air. Heaven on earth.

It’s been a couple of very busy weeks here. Both boys down with the flu and then back in the studio working the kinks out of some potential new solo material. Spencer shot a sneaky vid while I was singing “Another Long Goodbye” which I am dutifully trying to upload as I type.

Spring has been a long time coming…..but I think she’s finally here.

“Death where is thy victory, where is thy sting…..when every year we hear the birds of summer sing?”

happy holiday everyone

s

There’s something about the mountains that can move a man to tears. Maybe its the lack of oxygen…..or the close proximity to the sun…..but Life’s irritations tend to diminish dramatically at 8000ft.  Heightened perspective leads to revelation…..and then joy…..and peace.

It’s a place where where broken friendships can come to mend.

It’s a place where you can borrow a guitar just to write a song.

It’s a place where you can hear the Truth without fear…..

and heed it.

s

Welcome to the second installment of Radio Séan – “Love Hurts”

The decision to remain in Austin for the day off proved to be a fortunate one. It’s been many years since the entire band and crew were so unanimously satisfied by a location. Music, food, new friends, tequila, bridges and, of course, bats were in good supply and noone wanted for something to do. Yeah,We killed that day off real good.

After a full nights barhopping that ended up at The Continental (a real classic) Johnny Dangerous lived up to his name and we headed back into the famously haunted Driskill hotel to try to see what we couldn’t . We were not disappointed. Temperature drops, eye watering, unexplainable odours, and much hair raising ensued. Now I’m no spiritualist, but neither am I quick to diss what I do not understand (I’d be left with nothing). I’m not sure exactly what happened at the Driskill….but I know that it was something very ,very sad.

And part of it is still there.

s