The Golden dogs Lester (from Coat of Arms)

The songs that make up The Golden Dogs new album Coat of Arms have long since wormed their way deeply into my heart- as they will for so many listeners across this great country, continent and world of ours.

I first saw The Golden Dogs in their original incarnation at Guelph's Hillside Festival when their definitely buzz worthy Everything In 3 Parts had just broke.  It is an amusing anecdote in Canadian Rock Lore that... well you might as well hear it from the horse's mouth:

"Okay so basically the Island Stage at Hillside (which is one of if not the best programmed festivals in Canada) is this idyllic tent and Guelph is this really manzy panzy granola town with a pretty heavy duty male and female lesbian contingent (Guelph has more male lesbians per capita than any Canadian municipalities incidentally) and actually quite a few swingers or polyamourists (the King of the Swingers is or was on city council no word of a lie) or whatever those skeezebags call dipping the pen in your neighbour's ink.  So anyways my mushrooms are just kicking in I'm super hyped about this set and then this fucking band just blows up.  Like... and okay sure my mushrooms (like half a fucking cap man get over it) are slowly kicking in... I'm thinking in my mind 'this is what it must have been like to see The Police'.  The band was wholly original somehow rooted in the New Wave but not pandering to it, just really dynamic and engaging original songwriting and the whole band shreds including particularly the lead and very lanky lead guitarist Dave Azzolini who looks a bit like Ric Ocasek without shades but mainly because he's tall as fuck and plays ridiculously good guitar.


So anyways this green bean shaped man... Oh hold up... First I gave the entire band the CLEARLY IRONIC (note that NOBODY was dancing in this entire supposedly hippy town before I got up front and centre and shook not too few tailfeathers) Johnny Cash style 'Fuck You' - whilst still dancing said ass off.  Then beanpole man points at me - mid guitar solo nonetheless - and lunges forward (I'm clearly thinking this is part of the stage show) and then the fugger kicks me (while wearing my trademark - certainly after this occasion- Phil Collins '94 tour t-shirt), hard right between Phil's eyes.   I try to do this Matrix style backspin that didn't totally work clearly due to the durability of his combat boots and point of contact pretty much dead centre on the xyphoid process.  


The entire writeup of the band in the next day's Guelph Mercury was eclipsed by this one event which I don't have to look up because well I was fucking there."


In true rockstar-in-training fashion frontman Dave Azzolini berated a fan (allegedly sporting a Phil Collins t-shirt) for his rude reception of the band in the festival's Island Tent."


How was I supposed to know the keyboard chick was his wife?  Seriously.

In any case we're friends now if this video is any indication.



Whoa hold up.  I left out the part about how when the lights came up - and again this audience wasn't made up entirely of lesbians and it's the Friday night of a 3 day festival this fucking guy 'Dave Azzolini' announces over the mic:  'Hey ladies you see this guy in the Phil Collins shirt?  Don't touch him all weekend.  He's got diseases'.

I couldn't make this stuff up.