You'll have to excuse me

Word came down that John Mann has died. This was not unexpected; he was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's not long after the Resident Fan Boy, younger daughter and I saw him perform with the Art of Time's interpretation of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in 2013, almost exactly six years ago. The lead singer for the group "Spirit of the West", he was only 57.

The CBC and other media have been posting tributes all day. I've posted SOTW videos in this blog before, but not this one, which seem to perfectly capture my antagonism for certain places and people:

All packed up, the people gone.
All tucked in, the TV on.
Tonight, a bedroom for myself.
I'm gonna keep my mental health.

I could burn this country down
With the end of a cigarette.
Why do you put up with me?
Why do I put up with this when

I'm not happy to be here.
I'm not happy to meet you.
I couldn't care about your relatives.
No I couldn't give a damn.

I need five free minutes for myself.

All strung out, the reasons gone.
All bent in, and leaned upon/
I give myself a talking to,
Before I turn my tongue on you.

Given time, I've wasted it all.
Smashed my clock against your wall.
Talk is not what makes me tick.
The second hand's the first to stick when

I'm not happy to be here.

The video is filmed at various spots very familiar to Vancouverites. John Mann gave his last official concert in Vancouver in April 2016, but the following video was recorded almost exactly two years ago, on November 19th, 2107 at the legendary Commodore Ballroom in Vancouver. It features some of Canada's best known singers and musicians (listed at the end), and you can see John Mann leading the cavorting in a white shirt in this performance of what is Spirit of the West's most famous song.

I've seen it before, but watching it tonight, I found myself in tears at the end.


You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a month, I've been drunk since I left
These so-called vacations will soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink I need home for a rest

We arrived in December and London was cold
We stayed in the bars along Charing Cross Road
We never saw nothing but brass taps and oak
Kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats


You'll have to excuse me, I'm not at my best
I've been gone for a week
I've been drunk since I left
And these so-called vacations
Will soon be my death
I'm so sick from the drink
I need home for a rest

TAKE ME HOME!!!

Euston Station the train journey North
In the buffet car we lurched back and forth
Past old crooked dykes through Yorkshire's green fields
We were flung into dance as the train jigged and reeled

By the light of the moon, she'd drift through the streets
A rare old perfume, so seductive and sweet
She'd tease us and flirt, as the pubs all closed down
Then walk us on home and deny us a round

The gas heater's empty, it's damp as a tomb
The spirits we drank now ghosts in the room
I'm knackered again, come on sleep take me soon
And don't lift up my head 'till the twelve bells at noon