After the very intense and change-inducing years of the late
60’s, it was quite natural for 1970 to feel a bit ‘different’. The
Paris peace talks to end the Vietnam War continued into their
second year without progress. And as casualties for U.S.
troops rose in Vietnam, President Nixon made his April 30
television address ordering U.S. troops into part of
Cambodia. And in a rather dumb statement for an
American President (in my opinion, of course), a day later
on May 1, he was quoted as saying: “College campus
radicals who oppose [my] policies in Vietnam [are] ‘bums.’”
Three days later, on May 4, National Guardsmen opened
fire on 1,000 protesting students at Kent State University,
killing four and wounding nine (three seriously). Four days
later on May 8, New York construction workers broke up an
antiwar rally on Wall Street. The next day, on May 9,
another rally brought 75,000 to 100,000 peaceful
demonstrators marching toward Washington. President
Nixon, unable to sleep, drove to the Lincoln Memorial
before dawn to talk for an hour with the students. On May
12, six blacks are killed in race riots in Augusta, Georgia. Two
days later, police killed two students at Jackson State University in
Mississippi. And in a rally in support of the Vietnam War and its policies
on May 20, 100,000 people marched in New York.
Marches and protests were no longer ‘new’ in 1970, and those that
formed became increasingly larger as people realized the power behind
such things. This was the year that one could feel that all the rebellion
of the last few years was beginning to show signs of progress.
Following a feminist demonstration at a men's bar at New York's Biltmore
Hotel, Mayor John Lindsay signed a bill prohibiting sexual discrimination
in public places. Margaret Kuhn, 65, founded the Gray Panthers and
began fighting for the rights of retired Americans. The photo to the left of
Mary Ann Vecchio kneeling over the dead body of Jeffrey Miller after he
was shot by the National Guard at Kent State won a Pulitzer Prize. The
first Earth Day protest on April 21 would see the U.S. government pass
many major environmental statutes over the following few years. Of
course, the year was not without environmental tragedy as an
earthquake in China claimed 1,100 lives and another in South America
took the side off Mt. Huascarán, Peru’s highest peak, burying the town of
Yungay 20 feet deep in rock and ice. The death toll there was
66,000. And in November, a massive cyclone hit East Pakistan
and Bangladesh leaving 500,000 dead. We did see the
successful return to earth of the Apollo 13 astronauts: Jim Lovell,
Jack Swigert and Fred Haise – three men surviving four days in
a lunar module meant to keep two men alive
for two days. But, by and large, 1970 did
appear to be the year that the world was
moving ahead to what would come ‘next’.
In the entertainment industry, the year saw
the Isle of Wight Festival in August – the
largest ever rock festival (600,000 people) –
followed a month later by the deaths of Jim
Hendrix from a barbiturate overdose, and two
weeks after that, Janis Joplin from a heroin
overdose. Both performers were just 27
years of age. 1970 was the year that the
Beatles broke up, the year of the M*A*S*H
and Patton movies, the release of the movie
about the Woodstock festival the year before,
and the year that Simon and Garfunkel released their last album together, fittingly:
“Bridge Over Troubled Water”. But while the world and the entertainment industry
tended to go through a bit of a lull, the local band Brass Union proceeded ahead
into what would be their biggest year to date.
By 1970, the Brass Union was into its third year and it was full
speed ahead. The boys were all out of school now or on leave from
their day jobs, and had rented an old Hungarian Centre in west
Hamilton which had been converted into a local theatre and they
spent their days there practicing. Not only did they continue to
change and tweak their 'cover tunes' regularly, but they had added
quite a few original songs to the show as well. Everyone in the
band had a hand in the writing and arranging of the new material,
with many different names on the writing 'credits' of their new songs.
As they headed into the new year, the band continued to play
regularly everywhere they could. In January, they played at another
Battle of the Bands (see article to the right), which they won. And
as the year wore on, their gigs not only covered both southern and
northern Ontario, but they began to branch out into venues outside
the province. It would be a very busy year for the Brass Union.
Of the events that happened to the Brass Union in 1970, perhaps the biggest
(quantitatively) were their trips to Quebec City, Canada. They had done the
Northern Ontario circuit a number of times by this time – Sault Ste. Marie,
Wawa, Haileybury, Timmins, Cochrane and as far west as Port William and
Fort Arthur (now Thunder Bay). They had covered just about everything locally
– festivals, private parties, high school dances, universities, special events,
outdoor ‘bandshell’ concerts – and the next progression of the band was to
take their show to the province of Quebec. It was about this time that they
played a gig in Montreal, Canada on Rue Sainte-Catherine, the main street for
night life in the city. And in February of 1970, the band made its first trip to
Quebec City to play for three weeks in a club called, Le Cercle Electrique
(Electric Circle) in the heart of old town Quebec City.
The club is gone now (see picture, bottom left), converted into a 2-floor
residence for the adjoining hospital, Hôtel-Dieu de Québec (north America’s
oldest hospital, established in 1839, by the way), but at the time, The
Electric Circle was one of the top night clubs in the city. I remember well the
ceiling that went up two floors high, filled with flashing lights, strobes and
‘black lights’ and covered in flat black paint, the huge elevated stage at one
end of the room and the non-stop dance atmosphere of the place. The band
had played to some impressive audiences over the years, but this place,
coupled with the magic of Quebec City itself, was truly unique.
The corner of Rue Charlevoix and Côte du Palais,
the site of Le Cercle Electrique. The Hôtel-Dieu de
Québec is to the left, and the parking garage to the
right. The front door to the club remains, in the
centre of the brown brick part of the building.
Bill Hughes, the band light technician recalls:
“We were playing in Quebec City at a great club
called Le Cercle Electrique. This was to be a 3-
week gig – 21 shows. It was a huge place that
held up to about 2,000 people. We started on a
Monday night and a typical crowd of a couple of
hundred showed. However, the Brass Union’s
sound was very powerful and exciting and word
spread quickly about town. The Tuesday night
crowd was several hundred and by Wednesday
night the place was approaching usual Saturday
night numbers. Needless to say the management
was very happy with what was happening.”
“In those days we had a big TEAC reel to reel
tape deck that sat in front of George Hamor’s
sound board (the band’s sound technician), which
itself was quite impressive for the day – a
creation of George’s accomplished by ganging
together three, six-channel [sound] boards. We
used the deck to record every show and listen to
it later for critique and improvement. By now
some of the patrons had spotted the deck and
concluded that they had been hoodwinked,
certain that the great sound they were listening to
was recorded and the band was just
lip/instrument synching. A crowd developed
behind George and I as we were trying to do the
sound and lights and it was quite distracting what
with all the shouts and curses in French and
English. Finally George figured out what the
issue was. He sat back down at his board since
he had work to do as the guys we’re still in the
middle of a number. Then he lit a cigarette and
invited the ringleader of the revolution to come
closer. He showed the guy the switch on the
TEAC that shut off the machine. He then invited
the guy to do so. Now the guy looked a little less
hostile and a whole lot more sheepish but sure
enough, he shut off the TEAC tape deck.
Miraculously, the sound of the band continued
uninterrupted. I realized instantly the brilliance of
George’s move. If he had done it himself, the
skeptics would have thought it was still some kind
of trick. By letting the accuser do it they all knew
it was for real. These guys all erupted in
applause and laughter and they were all our pals
after that. By the weekend the place was hosting
its largest ever crowds and this persisted for the
remainder of the 3 weeks. Heady days for the
band, for sure.”
Above: Terry Bramhall (left) and Cliff Hunt (right) overlooking the St. Lawrence
River just outside Quebec City
Below: One of the band's day excursions, possibly to see nearby Montmorency
Falls, with Cliif driving and 'yours truly' in the passenger seat.
To the right: Bruce
Wilson riding passenger
in the white equipment
van. And no, I have no
explanation as to his
choice of head gear at
this time ... but then, there
was little about the band's
resident comedian that I
had explanations for at
that time.
To the left: Along the
shores of the St.
Lawrence River, with
Dave Thrasher (wearing
the scarf) talking to our
French-Canadian friend,
Pierre. All I remember
about this man was that
it was the time of the
Canadian FLQ crisis
and there was some
story about a bridge
being blown up.
The band returned to Quebec City twice more
during 1970 -- once, for two weeks during the
summer when they stayed during the off-season
at the Lac Beauport ski resort, just 15 minutes
north of the city, and the second time during the
fall for another two-week gig. I especially
remember the last trip, as during one of the
band's afternoon breaks, the boys got a game of
touch football going on the lawn of the hospital
next door. Half way through the game, John
Willett's elbow game up, caught me across the
bridge of the nose, and broke it clean. I spent the
last three nights of that trip, with a nose full of
kleenex so I could play my trombone -- but as
everyone knows ... "The show must go on."
Above: Darrell Nameth in the white
equipment van and, to the right, a
current shot of scenic Lac Beauport,
just north of Quebec City.
The three trips to Quebec City in 1970 were a fabulous
experience for the band. Playing every night and back in the club
on many afternoons, practicing new material, listening to the
tapes from the night before and working new tunes yielded one
tight, cohesive unit. There were, of course, many, many road
stories to come out of the adventures of those trips -- I have
hundreds of my own -- but as the saying goes: "What happens
on the road stays off the internet" (or something like that). But by
the time the band got home from their first trip to Quebec City at
the end of February, they were ready for the next major
development for the band -- releasing their first record.
A New Decade