Travel Tales from the UK and Beyond

APRIL 2011 Newsletter

Fri, 22 Apr 2011 00:20:00 GMT

It's finally spring time! I know because when I woke up this morning it was sunny and by lunch time we had experienced snow, rain, wind and more sun. I have such a fondness for Canadian weather.

I just returned from a European tour which saw me, my favourite left-handed guitar player Tyler Toews, and our ever organized partner in crime Jodie Ponto, travel through the UK from top to bottom, The Netherlands and Germany. We had many many adventure which are best described in pictures which you can see on Jodie Ponto's photoblog at this link: http://jodieponto.com/photoblog/?cat=818.

A few quick highlights from the tour: performing live on the BBC, successfully driving in London (and then taking our English car back onto the right side of the road in Europe), Playing a mobile blues cart in Hamburg Germany, getting car sick on winding and narrow English roads 20 minutes before playing a sold out show, getting our car towed in Berlin and spending the evening in the German police station and still making our gig, meeting up with the band "The Saints of British Rock" and shooting their music video at Stonehenge during sunrise (which was hidden by rain clouds of course).

We can't wait to return next spring! Thank you to all who came out and supported us!

However, the lovely Canadian summer is approaching us quickly and after some early June Toronto dates, we will be playing a Western Canada tour. This summer we have decided to focus on playing places and venues we haven't played before such as house concerts, barn parties, legions and other places where music should be played and often isn't.

That said, if you would like to host a house concert, organize a show in your town's heritage church, throw on a pig roast and invite the in-laws, raise a barn roof etc. we would love to play!

Our mini van (pulling my brand new 1974 bowler-eque trailer) will be kicking up dust in these areas:

Alberta: June 26-July 10
Vancouver/Okanagan: July 11-17
Vancouver Island: July 18-25

Even if your area and time frame isn't represented here, try us. We have a trailer and we're willing to use it! Click HERE for an up-to-date list of summer tour dates.

See you this summer!

xo
Miss Q

Oh! And, I almost forgot to mention that my album has been nominated in the top three for two different categories at the BC Interior Music Awards! I will performing at the awards ceremony in Kelowna this weekend on April 23rd. Wish me luck!

Brewing from Brighton to Exeter

Tue, 15 Feb 2011 18:50:00 GMT

The past week has been filled with many long drives through the English country side, many shows played in Pubs, radio stations, and houses. And, of course along the way I've been sampling the local ales and here's what I have to say about them.

Pub Crawl #2: Brighton, East Sussex, UK

Brighton is the architecturally elegant, artistic, anarchistic jewel of the South Eastern sea side. We spent one very rainy day jumping from pub to cafe in the North Laines and came upon The Bohemian Lounge in Kemptown. A great little pub with a relaxed and quirky atmosphere with equally quirky and inviting bar men.

Pub: The Bohemian Lounge
Brew: Hophead
Brewery: Dark Star Brewing Co.
Miss Q's comments: Any comment I make here will be completely bias as hoppy beers are my favourite beers, and this beer is no exception. It's light, hoppy, sweet with a slight bite of an aftertaste. The bar master described it as "something quite special" and I'll have to agree with him.

Pub Crawl #3: Exeter, Devon, UK
Home of the world's skinniest street, apparently, and I'm going to believe it as the barman who told me this piece of trivia was amazingly slim.

This was an unexpected pub crawl that started when an elderly gentleman noticed our accents chattering about the pub. Alister, over the course of a few hours and a few pints turned into one of the most random, charming and eccentric entertainer/guides of all time.

Pub: The Ship Inn
Brew: Old Speckled Hen
Brewery: Morland
Miss Q's comments: I'm not going to pretend that I choose this ale for any other reason than the name. Who wouldn't want to drink a fine strong ale with the name, "Old Speckled Hen". I wonder if this is a comment on it's strong dark woody flavour with it's specks of citrus and carmalized sugar after-tones.

Pub: The Well House Tavern. This pub is part of the Royal Clarence Hotel - the oldest Hotel in all of England. Now being from Western Canada, something aged 80 years is deemed a heritage site, so being in a pub from 1769 is really quite an experience. The skeleton in The Well House Basement cellar is quite an interesting feature of the pub as well.
Brew: Doombar
Brewery: Sharps Brewery
Miss Q's comments: a dark amber colour, smooth and creamy at first with a bit of a sharp bitter bite after. The skeleton was definitely the highlight of this tavern.

Brew Blog

Wed, 09 Feb 2011 17:40:00 GMT

Here in Jolly Ol’ England the regional brews change every 10 miles as drastically as the local dialect and accent. Growing up in northern BC I thought that there were only a few kinds of beer: Budweiser for tail gate parties - a beer that goes nicely with burning wood palates and loud country music barley audible over the noise of an idling diesel truck, Pilsner for family get togethers when the fathers and uncles all crowd around the BBQ, and Heineken for that rare and classy night that calls for an import. Of course since those days I’ve developed a taste for a variety of beers and in Canada I tend to favor brews produced by my favorite local microbreweries such as Phillips out of Victoria, Tree Brewing company out of Kelowna and of course The Nelson Brewing company from Nelson BC.

Now, however I am touring in the UK and there is a plethora of traditional ales and lagers that I’ve never heard of, seen or tasted. And, with this blog, it is a new mission of mine to try as many traditional and regional brews as I can. So, I will be half pint-ing around the UK (as well as playing music) and documenting it here in this blog.

Please note: I am no expert on the finer points of beer review, so please feel free to leave pointers and tips or point me in the direction of my next fine brew.

Pub Crawl #1: Lancaster, Lancashire, UK

Lancaster is a northern town that thrives on it’s local music and art scene. (As an aside, I have to say that Lancaster also has a thriving coffee roastery (J. Atkinson & Co.) that seems to have educated this small corner of the country on what real, good and full bodied coffee should taste like (hallelujah)). In the 17th century the Lancashirians were fond of burning witches.

Pub: The Golden Lion Pub
Brew: The Pride of Pendle
Brewery: Moorhouse
Miss Quincy’s comments: Made in Lancashire since 1865. This is a smooth, balanced and easy to drink beer. Neither too hoppy or too malty. I think I’ll have another.

Pub: Ye Olde John O’ Gaunt
Brew: Wee Shimmy
Brewery: Sadler’s
Miss Quincy’s comments: On first frosty drink the floral molasses flavor of this bitter came out. I am a big fan of beer with a strong bitter and hoppy edge, so I thoroughly enjoyed this half pint before moving on from my current favorite Lancaster Pub.

Pub: Dalton Rooms
Brew: Belle-Vue Kriek, Cherry Lambiek Fruit beer
Brewery: Belle-Vue Brussels (Het Bier van brussel i Tonnen Gerijpt - I have no idea what that means but it was written on the tap so it may be important or relevent)

Miss Q’s comments: This is far from a local beer, but The Dalton Rooms (may I say the classiest pub in Lancaster) has such an impressive show of taps that I had to try an exotic cherry brew from Belgium. This is a dangerous beer. Fruity, sweet, fizzy, delicious. You can see where this is going.

Pub: Dalton Rooms
Brew: Lancaster Amber
Brewery: Lancaster Brewery
Miss Q’s comments: billed as “a proper Lancaster bitter”, and I will agree (keeping in mind I know basically nothing about Lancaster having spent all of 4 hours in the town but am feeling quite English by this point in the night and have miraculously acquired a regional accent to accompany my beerverage). This bitter is a beautiful amber color with an earthy flavor, mossy and moor-like (once again using my brand new British lingo).

Stay tuned for more Brew Blogs!

Miss Quincy and Co are Heading Across the Atlantic

Fri, 21 Jan 2011 04:30:00 GMT

Well hello everyone!

Just quick note to let everyone know that we're hitting the road and heading back out on tour. Now, January isn't really the optimal time to be touring in Canada so we decided to tour in Europe instead. We'll be spending the next month and a half traipsing around the UK, The Netherlands and Germany.
Of course for those of you in Alberta, we're playing our way to the airport, so please come and check us out. You can find details for all those shows at: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=125308237535393

Musically this is going to be a duo tour with me and my favourite guitar playin' left hand man, Tyler Toews. However we will be a road tripping trio, as our ever so organized and camera happy sidekick Jodie Ponto will be keeping us in line. Jodie will be documenting the tour on her photo blog (http://jodieponto.com/photoblog). Please check back often as events change daily on her little corner of the web.

Of course, as always if you want to keep up to date with us and our Euro adventures you can always join us on facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/missquincymusic.
I will be posting stories and updates as we drive our rented station wagon around Europe like we own it.

I hope this update finds everyone enjoying the new year. It's off to a great start!

Keep warm!

Peace, Love and Moonshine,

xo
Miss Quincy

Miss Quincy's Brand New Promotional Video!

Sat, 08 Jan 2011 05:50:00 GMT

This here is my brand new promotional video!
I won't say much about it as the point of a promotional video is to speak for itself. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas is said best with Ambrosia Salad

Sat, 25 Dec 2010 03:10:00 GMT

Does anyone else remember church lunches with grandma or community hall potlucks? Well I do, and what I remember most is the Ambrosia Salad. That brightly coloured gelatinous mass moulded into charming shapes and elegant figures. Ah, the Ambrosia Salad filled with Jello and Miracle Whip and the holiday favorite; green and red maraschino cherries. I love Ambrosia Salad - to look at. Truth is I've never worked up the courage to try it, that is until today. Today I made my first Ambrosia Salad and as you can see here, it was a smashing success. I just can't wait to share it at the Christmas potluck tonight.

So, Merry Christmas everyone, or Happy Solstice, Fairy Blissmas, Safe Holiday, Bah Humbug or whatever you prefer.
Wishing you lots of peace, love and moonshine for the new year.

xo
Miss Q

ps. I've included my very favourite Christmas tune for your listening pleasure. This is the Staple Singer's "Who Took The Merry Out of Christmas"

"Your Mother Do Not Like Me" by Mrs. Mynett and other Google Translate Adventures

Fri, 17 Dec 2010 11:35:00 GMT

I love the fact that I am fortunate enough to tour in Europe. I love the inexpensive wine and cheese, the skinny winding roads, the way the audience feels as though they are glimpsing the real wild west through my music.

I also love the language barriers. Following are a few excerpts from a review written about my album, Your Mama Don't Like Me from the website www.rootstime.be. Of course I don't speak Flemmish, so I used the handy dandy google translate button and these are a few of my favourite descriptions that google helped out with.

"Your Mother Do Not Like Me"
(This is a very stern yet proper way to say the title of my album)

"Outside temperatures went up to far below freezing, but inside the musicians kept the whiskey warm."
(It's true, the Belgians know there is nothing like a hot toddy.)

"The result is special music as you hear very little."
(A very Zen description)

"Reno's Song was written by Reno Fith that, in this single instrumental song, shows that you can play great on the mandolin.
(Way to go Reno! You can play great on the mandolin - and all this time I thought it was a tiny out of tune guitar!)

"Along with the fiddle of Josh, Jody and Peter Mynett on guitar on this song the bass sounds fine."
(You should have seen Peter and I fight over who was going to strum and who was going to chord that guitar. By the way Peter and I may fight like an old married couple but it will have to be a cold day in hell before I'll change my name to Jody Mynett)

Here is the whole of google's ineloquent translation if you choose to read it:
(Also! Don't forget to check out our upcoming European tour dates here!)

Roots Canada has a vibrant scene. The large numbers of Canadian Roots CDs that have appeared in recent years is not strange to mention. Even Miss Quincy "(her real name is Jody Peck) is a Canadian musician Roots. Together with the crème de la crème of Canada's finest roots musicians drew Miss Quincy in the winter of 2009/2010 found in a cabin in northern British Columbia for ten days for her debut album 'Your Mother Do not Like Me' on take. Outside temperatures went up to far below freezing, but inside the musicians kept the whiskey warm. The beauty is that the whiskey in a lot of songs on this CD a role. Miss Quincy itself describes its music as' back porch blues brothel. I can find nothing wrong in this description. Miss Quincy grabs ie back to the blues as sung by the ladies in the thirties, but mixes it with elements of bluegrass and gypsy jazz. The result is special music as you hear very little. The CD contains ten songs, seven of them were written by Miss Quincy. The only cover on this CD was written by Memphis Minnie song 'Bad Luck Woman. The instruments that provide the special bluegrass and gypsy elements are the banjo, played by Craig Korth, and the violin played by Josh Giesbrecht.

The happy sounding 'Your Mother Do not Like Me' is the opener and the title track of the CD. As happy as the song sounds so happy, the text does not. A woman tells her husband that she has had enough of his lies and cheating. They will come to the conclusion that these things by itself gets stronger. "You take nobody with you When you die" is the message in the song 'Nobody With You ", a song with a nice arrangement with great violin music by Josh Giesbrecht and an acceleration at the end. In the song "Record Store" is especially Jody's voice grabs you by the throat. The steel guitar played by Lance Lorree in the song "Whiskey & Water" seems to come straight from Hawaii. "Reno's Song" was written by Reno Fith that, in this single instrumental song, shows that you can play great on the mandolin. Along with the fiddle of Josh, Jody and Peter Mynett on guitar on this song the bass sounds fine. The CD ends with two blues songs "Dirty Boat" and "Bad Luck Woman" in which Miss Quincy lets hear some more notes on the harmonica to play. All in all, a CD with nice songs, good musicians, but a good singer.

Ruud Monde
www.rootstime.be

A Winter Rant

Tue, 07 Dec 2010 11:23:06 GMT

I woke up grumpy today. The sun was shining on the beautiful fresh snow, the air was crisp and it looked like a Christmas card outside my window. I turned over and put my pillow over my head. Why you ask? Well I don’t mind if I tell you.

You see the life of a musician, fulfilling in so many ways, leaves one wanting only in the area of finances. And seeing as how I’m living in my beloved Nelson town for the winter I would like nothing more than to be skiing on all that fresh powder and those high peaks. However, this winter will be my first Nelson winter that I won’t be skiing because I just cannot afford to buy a ski pass.

And yes, it does hurt. Thank you for asking.

Now, I had a bright glimmer of hope in this dark winter when I saw that my favorite local bar was hosting a ski hill opening day party where a ski pass would be gifted to the person who showed up wearing the best winter costume.

Well, imagine my happiness, imagine my cunning and creative costume planning, imagine my strutting in my fantastic, original and amazing costume, imagine my utter disappointment and despair when I lost the mother f**king contest to a girl in a short skirt and a scarf (I think she was a sexy snow princess or something equally as mundane and unimaginative). That’s right folks. I won’t be skiing this winter because of a snow princess dressed in inappropriate clothing. I wouldn't be surprised if she's in the hospital due to frostbite.

And, the kicker of the whole thing is that I was wearing a mother fucking wolf. That’s right, a real dead wolf and mukluks to boot! I was wearing a REAL winter costume. A wolf and mukluks. Don’t you think that’s worth a ski pass?

I thought so. Thank you for seeing it my way.

Confessions of a Camp Cook

Sun, 31 Oct 2010 00:25:00 GMT

My mother once gave me the best piece of advice I've ever received. She said, "men are like a herd of rutting caribou". Now, just to explain, I've recently returned home from the Yukon where the caribou rut was in full swing. The caribou rut, for those who aren't aware, is the time of year when the caribou get it on. And caribou, my friends, have a one track mind during this special time of year. A caribou will go straight towards the first piece of tail they can get, be it over the highest mountain, through a pack of wolves or across a raging river. My mother presented me with this piece of wisdom when I was just a little girl during a particularly fierce caribou rut, and believe me, I was scared. This single piece of wisdom has saved me time and time again.

This fall I made my usual trek north to work as a cook in a hunting camp. Now this northward journey is an instinctual trip for me, not only have I been doing it for over a decade, but my mother and my grandmother, my aunts and great aunts have been making this journey for generations. I am a hunting camp cook through no fault of my own. When the air starts to smell of fall, I have no choice but to drive up the Alaska Highway, don my long johns and leave them on. In this way I feel a kinship with the caribou, I understand following an impulse often against one's better judgement. And, wearing long johns day in and out can deter even the most determined caribou.

Tales From the Quincy Caravan

Mon, 18 Oct 2010 02:14:36 GMT

Here are a few video blogs from the "Your Mama Don't Like Me UK Tour".

Enjoy!

Miss Quincy Goes Undercover as a Grumpy Camp Cook

Wed, 01 Sep 2010 03:45:00 GMT

Fall is most definitely in the air, Miss Quincy's summer tour finished off with a bang at ArtsWells festival, and the Miss Quincy mobile (otherwise known as the Mama Dragon) is scheduled for a big check up in the shop. It was a a summer full of music and happy shenanigans (see earlier blog posts for examples). Now, however, as fall approaches, it's time to be introspective and look inward, or perhaps upward. Upward, that is, to the Yukon.

As some of you may or may not know, Miss Quincy has an evil alter ego. And she's a mean, hard and grumpy camp cook named Cookie. Every fall Cookie demands attention, and Miss Quincy, being ever generous, allows her alter ego to run the show. And the show is obviously a cooking show.

Meet Cookie:

Cookie is hunting camp cook, and she spends her time in the Yukon wilds in a tiny cabin sans running water, electricity or anything remotely modern and convenient. And that's just the way she likes it. She enjoys hanging and butchering the meat that is brought in the hunters, preparing batches of baked beans and boiled potatoes, bathing in glacier streams, sharpening knives and setting trap lines. Cookie is one tough camp cook.

Cookie's favorite day is mail day. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with mail day, it is a monumental bi-weekly day in which mail is brought into the hunting camp by horse pack string. It is a joyous day for those who get letters and a suicidal day for those who don't.) Cookie loves mail day more than most because it is the day in which she packs a sack of sweet treats and heads out to the river and reads the love letters sent to her by her numerous and hedonistic pen pals. It is the only day in hunting camp where Cookie lets a little Miss Quincy shine through.

This year Cookie will be working for the month of September at Yukon Stone Outfitters. She may never return and revert back to Miss Quincy if she doesn't receive many many letters. And love letters at that. Dirty scandalous letters even better. Cookie always writes back, and you can be guaranteed she has more practice at dirty letters than you do.

Please send copious amounts of post here:

c/o Yukon Stone Outfitters
Box 31606
Whitehorse, YT
Y1A 6L2

Cookie's Boudoir

Cookie's Powder Room

Cookie Finds Romance

Cookie's Yukon Spa

How to Sneak Three Hippies into a Hotel Room, and Karmic Acts of Simple Vandalism

Thu, 08 Jul 2010 06:04:29 GMT

I've never felt so grown up in all my 27 years as I did registering at the front desk of the Royal Oaks Hotel last night. We have a band policy of couch surfing, camping, rooftop poaching, etc. In other words, we never pay for
hotel rooms. Last night, however, exhausted after a long day of trying hard to get on the road and the previous week of homecoming shows, I made the decision to find the seediest hotel and sleep in it. Our choice was the Royal Oak Hotel with Tail Gaterz strip joint adjoining. A single room for $53. Well the problem with a single room is that there are four of us, but if I was going to pay for a hotel room, I certainly wasn't going to pay for four of us to stay in it. The other problem is that we are conspicuous. Within 4 hours of driving in Alberta I was asked 3 times whether we were hippies or tree planters. Trying to sneak three unkempt hippy-looking band mates into a hotel with quite possibly no other occupants, proved an exciting night in Whitecourt. We managed by finding back doors and fire escapes, flirting with the front desk girl, and pure cat-like agility. No, we're not hippies or tree planters, we're just smooth talkers and cheap like borscht. And poverty, folks, has a way of turning one into a sneaky criminal.

Very little excitement happened as we continued through Alberta on our way to Olds for the next show, that is until we reached Rocky Mountain House. Now, I've always thought Rocky Mountain House to be quite beautifully located and we pushed through our coffee cravings until we reached the town. We quickly found a cute little coffee shop and were excited to have some coffee to mix with our Baileys. Little did I know that in Rocky Mountain House, and at Novel Ideas Coffee Shop specifically, they like to assault their customers. Imagine my surprise at being everything but physically attacked by the menopausal, obviously unhappy, and sexually unsatisfied owner of the coffee shop all for ordering an Americano. Folks if you ever stop for a coffee in Rocky Mountain House, please don't order an Americano, it may be the last thing you ever do. I barely made it out alive. I left the shop quite shaken up, but with resolve to show that lady that I wouldn't stoop to her level, I wouldn't yell and threaten, I would show my social graces and educated upbringing and in a witty and intelligent fashion I would pay her back for her uncalled for behaviour. So, I walked back into her coffee shop, looked her in the eye and in front of all who cared to watch I raised my coffee mug high and poured it out onto the floor. “Oops, I tripped”, I said as I turned to walk away. However, walking was not an option. Oh no. The bitch was on me. She screamed like a rabid dog was chewing off her leg and she put on a chase, but I was faster and the green mini van was loaded and waiting, Tyler was at the wheel of my get away car. “Fuck You Rocky Mountain House!” was all I had to say as we pushed the mini van until we almost reached the speed limit on the way out of town, but don't think I didn't hear, and perhaps consider, the advice of one confused coffee shop patron when she called after me, “You need a therapist!” Well, lady, don't we all, and that Americano tasted like shit anyway.

Until next time,

Peace, Love, Moonshine and a touch of childish revenge,

Miss Quincy
www.missquincy.net

The Case of the Panty Caper.

Thu, 01 Jul 2010 02:50:00 GMT

Who Done It??

Clean underwear. It's always an issue when one lives on the road. Now some of us who live in this van (I'm writing this as we roll down the highway in our green mini van. The very same green mini van that has the lyrics of Prairie Balladeer Scott Cook inscribed in dirt... “I live in my van, and it's a fine place to live...”). Anyway, as I was saying, some of us that live in this van are highly strategic about clean underwear. One of our more hygienic members, for example, washes hers when she showers. (She swears she doesn't wear them while she showers, just washes them while she washes herself. Genius, really.)

I, on the other hand, am a master procrastinator when it comes to laundry. I'm of the mindset that clothes clean themselves when they are put in a bag and left there for long periods of time. So, imagine my surprise on the first laundry day in a month to find my favourite pair of panties, call them my comfort, or perhaps my leisure panties, to be forever altered. Now before I go on, everyone has a pair of leisure underwear, they're full coverage, soft, never wedge themselves into uncomfortable places and they've been with you for more years than is healthy to admit. Well, I'm sure you could imagine my surprise when my leisure panties showed up after laundry day soft as always, clean and crotch-less. Yes, I said crotch-less. As in the crotch cut right out of them.

So, I'm posting this blog with the intention of sleuthing out who did it. Who, I ask, cut the crotch out of my leisure panties?? I urge you, whomever you may be, to come forward. I promise there will be no repercussions, I ask only for my soft cotton, breathable, comfortable leisure panties to be replaced. You may remain anonymous, I'm OK with that, I don't need to know why you went into my suitcase with your scissors, but please send a new pair of size medium leisure panties to:

Miss Quincy
Box 278
Taylor, BC
V0C 2K0

It would be much appreciated. Thank you.

Until next time,
Peace Love and Moonshine

xo
Miss Quincy

www.missquincy.net

"Your Mama Don't Like Me" is released on itunes today!

Tue, 15 Jun 2010 20:50:00 GMT

Well, it seems like a good while ago now that we holed up in my cabin in the deep dark northern winter to lay down this record, and now, finally, it's time to release it. Today, June 15th, is the digital release date. That means you can go to itunes and download a copy. Of course downloading doesn't allow you to caress the album in your hands, let it get coffee stained in the car, or mix up in your CD case, so if you want a real live physical copy, you can get ahold of one of them from my website store, or, of course, one of my shows (here's my always-up-to-date show schedule).

So, the big news is that it's digital release day, aside from that, the news I have to offer is about the weather, about the rain and the crops. I am in Saskatchewan after all. And, as a catch up of where the green mini van has driven us on this whirlwind Canadian tour here's a very brief update.

We jammed in every park in Montreal, curbside garage-saled until our suitcases almost exploded and tried to feel as french as a Western Canadian can.
Ontario was the biggest place I ever saw.
Fell in love with Winnipeg and the fine people that live there.
A strong prairie wind blew us into Bruno, Saskatchewan, and we're discovering how even a grain elevator looks beautiful on the wide Saskatchewan horizon.
And we'll keep heading west.

Please come and see us when we roll through your town.

Cheers until next time,

Miss Quincy
www.missquincy.net

ps. Just because it is release day, I've included a free track from Your Mama Don't Like Me with this post, here it is... Record Store. If you like it, you know where to get the rest of the songs!

Leeds and Beyond

Mon, 03 May 2010 04:16:40 GMT

I was looking my best this morning as I hauled my 5 bags from platform to platform trying to get to my train (I seriously have 5 bags - back pack, guitar case, computer case, bag of CDs and merch and a large near-to-bursting carry-all hippy bag). I generally look like a laden mule in pain when I'm carrying all these bags and the only thing I feel happy about is that I decided against bringing 2 guitars. So, I knew that touring solo would be a learning experience, but I wasn't aware that the biggest lesson I would learn would be: hire a fucking car. You know, I thought it would be quite easy, I packed light - I only have 3 sets of clothes with me - but I also have guitar pedals and chords, a pharmacy of herbal anti-cold medicine, a computer, harmonicas in 6 different keys, tuner, metronome, etc. etc. Lesson learned, next time the car rental agencies will love me.

Aside from the drudgery of hauling around a car load of gear without a car, I've had a few first time experiences since my last blog entry. Such as bee keeping. Seriously, I've started thinking that a life of bee keeping could suit me just fine. What started out as a nice walk in the country turned into a whole apiary workshop. As you can see here the outfit of an apiarist suits me just fine as well.

Back to the shows, last night I was in Leeds. Now if Brighton was all about the jazz/funk/gypsy/ska, Leeds is all about ... Blues. It seems as though the musical tastes and trends change as fast as the accents in this country. Brighton was full of stylish hippies speaking with soft rounded vowels and Leeds was fast paced, a bit dirty, a bit rough, and really fun. I managed to hit the Live at Leeds festival, and the entire city was a thriving mass of musicians and heavy drinking Loiners (Loiner being the Leeds demonym). After my show I took part in the festival by playing in a musicathon for ELFM radio that went on all night long. I played my set at midnight and in the next few hours watched almost every Leeds band cycle through the church where we were broadcasting from. And this is where I realized that Leeds is obsessed with the blues. And not a convoluted english style blues, no they're really into the old school American blues. So American actually, that I heard not just one but many bands impose an American-ish accent on their between song banter. It was a wonderful moment the first time I heard a lead singer introduce his band sounding very much like a Loiner and by the end of the set he was a Chicagoan. Magic really. The whole radio show is podcasted at www.elfm.co.uk, if you'd like to check out 24 hours of non-stop music from Leeds.

This long night of music was almost fully responsible for my exceptionally haggard appearance on the train this morning with my large and heavy load. In a packed train I had 2 seats all to myself... next show, Stamford.

The Brighton Report

Tue, 27 Apr 2010 20:00:00 GMT

Having lived in Nelson BC, I feel quite at home in Brighton. Dread Locks, Anarchists, peace and love abounding, if it weren't for that tell tale south British accent, I may just forget that I'm not at home. However there are a few noticeable differences. One is that when I mention blues as a genre of music, I'm met with confused looks. Jazz, gypsy, ska, fat horn sections and dance beats - they've got it, but blues - not so much. And, whereas the genre "folk" can come pretty close to a swear word where I come from, folk seems to be held in high esteem, a tradition, a right of passage, a rich and treasured heritage (and really what is folk music if it's not all of that?). However, despite these small differences, as always, good music is good music and musicians seem to be a welcoming breed the world over. I've had the great fortune of playing and jamming with some great musicians and bands since I've been here. And it seems as though the late night and later mornings tour schedule has settled in to stay.

Here are some sweet acts to check out:

For one, The Mountain Fireworks Company. An all-man brute of a bluegrass band that sings of lost loves and sorrows. There really isn't anything more beautiful than hearing five big men lament in harmony together. (as an aside, I would like nothing more than to see these boys playing in Canada next summer, so if you feel so inclined, please email CBC radio and request to hear more songs from them. And, check out at www.mountainfireworkcompany.com)

Another lady I was excited to meet was Alice Russell, soul singer extraordinaire. Having heard her tunes before and been thoroughly impressed, it was most fun to drink too much wine with her after my show.

Post Volcanic Travel

Tue, 20 Apr 2010 00:49:08 GMT

The skies are strangely quiet in Europe this week. Children with asthma have been literally jumping up and down. Just today, the latest buzz is that the British Navy will be rescuing people from France and Spain, I've heard of rubber dingy fleets coming across the channel and of severe fresh produce shortages in the UK. Open any newspaper you'll only hear of stranded holiday-ers. Poor unfortunate souls spending an extra week on the beach where sun burn injuries have sky rocketed. Crowds of Brits are having impromptu get togethers in order to voice their story, which sounds just like the next, which is - we're not getting home anytime soon.

I myself have been unfortunate enough to have my flight cancelled, so I am stuck in a large stone house overlooking craggy cliffs falling into the Atlantic ocean. I have the annoyance of sea spay misting my face every morning as I stroll just above the crashing waves. And, it looks as though it's going to continue for another week. Why? Because I can't get out of Portugal until Thursday. And Thursday at the very earliest, and only because I'm traveling solo, and only because I booked my train ticket two days ago (Sunday).

Now, I'm sure that Iceland is full of wonderful, shiny and talented people, but that little country seems to be fucking with the rest of the world right now. Not that I'm complaining because I quite like being stranded in Portugal, but if only they would reimburse my £306 I would be a very happy and sunburnt holiday-er.

As you are probably aware, if you are reading this blog, I am supposed to be playing music and on tour in the UK, not sunbathing in Portugal. And, by April 24th, which is my first gig in Brighton, barring any more unforeseen disasters, I will be in there and reunited with my beloved guitar (who took her own holiday trying to make it to the UK) to play the show.

The following is a short blurb that I wrote for a few British papers, as they are uninterested in promoting my show at the moment and very interested in my travel troubles.

May the winds change soon,
xo
Miss Quincy

Travel Tales by Miss Quincy

Miss Quincy, a Canadian Singer Songwriter, tells of her travel trials and tribulations while embarking on her UK album release tour. www.missquincy.net

I am an experienced traveller, in fact, before I started playing music full time (which often entails living in a van on the road) I travelled the world with long dread locks and a dirty rucksack. I've spent countless days and nights on airport benches and all night bus rides, and I've never so much as had a flight take a major delay. This trip, however...

To tell of all the trials and tribulations of one seemingly simple trans-Atlantic flight would keep us all here until next week, so let me suffice to say that, while the volcano was still peacefully sleeping, I experienced re-routed flights, over-booked flights and delayed flights. I was waist deep in budget travel hell before I even left Canada. By the time my newly assigned and delayed flight arrived in Manchester (many hours after I was scheduled to arrive in London Gatwick on a direct flight from Canada I might add), my esteemed budget airline had lost my guitar. No sign of the instrument that is worth far more than my car, my antique hat collection, or any other asset I posses in both monetary and sentimental value. I almost cancelled my week long holiday in Portugal's Algarve to stay and wait and worry about my guitar, but decided that I could phone Global Baggage Services every hour from Portugal just as easy as from Manchester (seeing as how I wasn't even sure how I ended up in Manchester to start with). So, bad choice number two (I'm counting booking a budget flight from a terrible budget company as bad choice number one), I flew to Portugal. Who knew flying could be so easy. Board the plane and a few hours later I was in southern Europe. Apparently to stay for much longer than I intended.

I flew to Portugal on Monday, the volcano erupted on Wednesday. I didn't personally blame Iceland for all the ill's of the world until my flight was officially cancelled and I had to buy a train ticket worth 306.00 GBP that arrives into the UK five days later than I intended.

Usually I would be ecstatic to stay an extra week in Portugal, however, I am a Canadian musician on my first tour in the UK and am very much looking forward to playing my shows. I have had two strokes of unbelievable luck in this ordeal. One is that my guitar made it safely into the loving arms of a friend in Brighton on Tuesday, and two is that I am scheduled to arrive in Brighton the day of my first gig.

To fund these extra days in Portugal and an outrageous train fare, I will be busking my way through the trains of Europe back to my beloved guitar. I've managed to acquire an embarrassingly small travel guitar that looks and plays like a cross between a lute and a ukelele and will be video blogging my travels. Please join me on my journey at www.missquincy.net as I will be updating my progress often.

A Cure for the Common Hangover

Wed, 24 Feb 2010 07:20:00 GMT

Yesterday was a rough day. It started early and ended, well, early. I had one of those relentless hangovers that reared his ugly head every time I smelled the clam chowder that was the soup special in my cafe, every time I bent down to put a plate of food on someone's table, every time I even looked in the direction of that damn clam chowder. And I love clam chowder, but my hangover didn't. Monday mornings are busy in the cafe, even busier when you arrive slightly drunk and smelling distilled. One might wonder why one would drink to a point of absolute intoxication on a Sunday, the Lord's day of rest, when one had to work the early shift at the cafe where they're serving clam chowder the next morning. The problem with my judgement was quite simple; moonshine. I didn't know I was drunk until I was completely loaded and by then a mere shift at the cafe was far from important. What cafe?

Anyway, spending the day with my hangover made me remember that I never want to do it again. So, I am putting out a call to all and any who will share their wisdom. What is the cure for the common hangover?

Last summer a local apiarist gave me a jar of unpasteurized honey and swore that if I would just take a spoonful before drinking I couldn't get a hangover if I tried.
A Mexican friend of mine swears by cow stomach soup after a night of hard drinking.
There must be other cures, and I want to learn them all. Next time I will be prepared to face the clam chowder.

A Short Study of Love and Heartache

Wed, 17 Feb 2010 08:16:17 GMT

I was recently asked to play a Valentine's Day show for singles. I immediately knew exactly what I wanted to do. There are just so many classic blues songs sung by ladies who know how to sing about pain, love and heartache, and I knew that I wanted to do it too. I choose songs written and performed by Nina Simone, Koko Taylor, and Bessie Smith to name a few. I was awed by these songs at first. It's one thing to take someone else's song and sing it like it's your own, it's another thing to take a well-known classic, a pain-infused, heartbroken song and sing it like it's your own to an audience of hopeful lovers on Valentine's Day.

Performing these songs was like a history lesson for me. Of course Bessie Smith could sing about pain and grief, her and her brother had to busk on the streets to bring home money after their parents died. Of course Nina Simone's voice is deep and resonates with passion, at twelve years old, during her first recital, her black parents were forced to move to the back of the room so that the white patrons could have the front seats. At twelve she refused to play until her parents were allowed back in the front row. These experiences show in their music, in their interpretations, in their song writing.

I spent countless hours listening to these ladies, learning about them, their lives and music. I did not know, for example, that after suffering the effects of racism all her life, Nina Simone became a strong supporter of the black power movement, and her music was often used as anthems for the civil rights movement in America. Learning about these ladies and their extraordinary lives was as important as learning the notes in each of their songs. It was intimidating at times to sing songs with so much history, so much feeling, so much hurt, loss and love behind them, especially to a crowd of well dressed singles who were more interested in the sexy single sitting opposite than a history lesson.

However, music is a language. A language that I speak, that Nina Simone spoke, that Bessie and Koko spoke. And it is through music that they channelled their emotions, that are, after all common to the human experience. So, although I was singing to a group of singles at a Valentine's Day show, and Nina Simone was writing anthems for the civil rights movement, I sang and felt the music as they intended their music to be felt. And there it was. Music the universal language, as always speaking so relevantly, whether to singles on Valentine's Day or racial protests in the civil rights movement.

To see more photos from "A Short Study of Love and Heartache" check out jodieponto.com/photoblog

Tips from a Showman Master

Tue, 02 Feb 2010 03:37:24 GMT

Last night I accidentally witnessed one of the greatest shows I've ever seen. It was a fluke really, I went to have a quick dinner at a friends, and, lucky for my good fortune, I stumbled into a stellar performance. In the context of the show, I wasn't sure it was polite to take notes, but god knows, I could learn a thing or two about performance from this master showman. It was an improptu show, as often the best are, put on by none other than the Kirby Vacuum salesman. From 7pm until 10pm we witnessed a great display of theatre and performance art as Max the vacuum salesman put his machine through it's paces. Now, we were all sold on the machine instantly, it seemed to work better than the average vacuum, that wasn't the issue, it was the $3000 price tag. Of course he avoided all mention of price and payments until he had put the old vacuum to shame and banished it to the snowbank outside (it wasn't what this fine young family deserved), until he had vacuumed a handful of "dust mite feces" from their relatively new mattress, until he had vacuumed up a box of salt which the old vacuum had missed. All the while he had a steady stream of banter that was not only charming and full of sexist comments geared towards a happy young couple finding their roles within a new and budding family, but hypnotizing and spellbinding. And, when the couple looked at each other and knew that it was more important to save money for their baby on the way, than to "invest" in this new vacuum, Max stepped up his pitch. He made false phone calls to head office painstakingly describing the financial situaiton of this young and hard working couple who "deserved a vaccuum that would keep their soon to be born child safe". There was no one on the other end of the phone line, but the dialgue was convincing, and each time he called the price dropped, and each time he hung up he congratulated the happy young couple on joining the Kirby Vacuum family. They said, "sorry, no" four times and the price went down four times. He threw in a 10 day all inclusive trip to Mexico (flights not included), free vaccuum bags, extra shampoo. He was there for three hours for gods sake, trying to sell them something they never intended to buy. He almost had them when he started weaving a spell of words and payment options, pitting husband and wife against each other, and pleading the health of their unborn. All the while shampooing "the wife's" carpet so it shone as white as her wedding dress that she wore only a few months before. It was almost a religious experience and if he was trying to get them to part with their souls rather than their hard earned cash, he would have succeeded without a doubt. The night ended in a sparkling square of carpet placed so it contrasted the high traffic area of carpet like an insult, it ended with the Kirby vacuum being packed away by a sad and defeated Max who only wanted what was best for this hardworking family, it ended with the couple feeling terrible that they couldn't afford what they really needed to keep their unborn safe. And then, the auxillary salesman showed up. Just like that. And we heard yet another pitch on how the investment of this life time warranty, super-dooper, do-everything-but-procreate machine would change the life of an expecting house wife who worked so hard. We were all exhausted and a little confused by the time that vacuum left the scene, at first we weren't sure if we'd even experienced it - but there was that gleaming white square of carpet smiling back at us. The happiest fucking carpet around. If it were even possible for me to become half as convincing as that salesman, I would be the most successful independent musician of all time. But even I wouldn't set my sights that high...