Chicoutimi

As you can tell from the previous entry, we had a pretty awful night in Trois-Riveires. Through absolutely no fault of ours or of our record label's, we ended up on a totally inappropriate bill in a dance-hall nightclub full of depressed Quebecois teenagers.

The old cliche: "It is always darkest just before the dawn" is one of those stupid things that people say that is totally false and retarded, like "that's the exception that proves the rule" or "it's the quiet ones you gotta watch", or "don't drink that, you might die". Clearly it is not darkest just before the dawn, it's dakest when the fucking sun is on the other side of the fucking planet.

However, in reference to rock n' roll tours, it is totally true. According to sources, Chicoutimi was supposed to be a backwater, mega-seperatist little town full of grumpy old Quebecois. We prepared for the worst. Instead, we were met by Frederic, the promoter for the show, who showed us to the bar and immediately presented us with a bottle of Crown Royal Limited Edition Rye Whisky. Then he showed us to our two hotel rooms (a first for this tour, which has featured several mornings of us all waking up with carpet patterns imprinted on our faces).

Fred had booked an eight-piece local bluegrass band, which is just a spectacular idea. You might think a pure traditional folk band wouldn't fit with Les Dreadnoughts, but the match is actually an excellent one. One reason is that any asshole with working hands can pick up an electric guitar, but you kind of have to be serious to play banjo, standup bass or accordion. Result? A LOT of awful rock bands, very few awful bluegrass/folk bands.

Our show was simply spectacular, matched only by the epic Pub 340 shows we've had back in Van City. People were going bananas. Halfway through the show, I picked up Cider Bear, and said: "Madames et mesieurs, il s'appelle Cider Bear, et IL AIME BEAUCOUP LE MOSH PIT!!!" We threw him into the crowd and he had a lot of fun, even getting his underwear ripped off at one point.

We got three stomping encores, with the crowd chanting and singing "Ole, ole!" over and over in true Quebecois fashion. After the show, half the bar moved to the bluegrass band's house and had a big boozy jam session with like 19 instruments and a bongo (not an instrument, Commercial Drive, NOT AN INSTRUMENT).

We then moved back to our hotel rooms and partied with several Young Maidens of Virtue True (YMVTs). I don't think I can relate the rest of the evening's activities to you on a public blog. Suffice to say that much cider was imbibed, much laughter was shared, and a certain YMVT woke up the following afternoon with red hand-prints on her bottom, courtesy of none other than the Dread Pirate Bruisil himself.

Everything about Chicoutimi and Quebec culture is just awesome. For eight dollars, you can buy a colossal plate of properly made Poutine, smothered in cheese curds, gravy, ground beef, sausages, peas and probably a dollop of lard for good measure. Beer labels are epic and beer is extremely strong. And everyone we've met has been helpful, jovial, interesting, welcoming and shitloads of fun. Vive la Quebec!