Tale of a Rock n Roll Brother

By Chris Dragon
::::Dedicated to my little brother of Angelsmoke::::

INTRO

As long as I can remember, It was always within me. Music, spinning around like quantum particles. It was
something I could never control but was at my core. Every summer, Mom would take my little sister and I,
to my Aunts cottage at Whiskey Harbour, Lake Huron. It got its name from the Canadian whiskey
bootleggers, who would run illegal Rye across the lake during prohibition in America. We would BBQ and
swim while AM radio hits would skip across the lake from Michigan State to our radios. But they were
boring old people songs. It was like watching B&W Television with rabbit ears on Sunday mornings.
Something was missing. One hot Friday night in the summer of 1972, we abandoned the sweltering heat of
Toronto, and once again, took the long drive to the cottage on the lake. On this trip, the brown Ford station
wagon would change my life. My Uncle was carrying a small rectangular box, and placed it on the car seat.
That box would prove to be the match for the gasoline particles running in my veins. The box was an 8
Track Magnetic Tape for his car stereo. Pushing my little sister aside, I slipped over the cars backbench to
get closer to the music. were located in the cargo area. With a pillow, I lay flat on my back. My ears
where bent, as I bounced down the highway listening to every melody and lyric. The wagon was a space
capsule attached to an intergalactic musical shooting star in the night, and I was catching a ride of a
lifetime. It was The Beatles album, Abbey Road. The songs by Lennon & McCartney washed over me.
Reflecting back later in life, I see this moment as the gate leading to the road of enlightenment with all
the arts. The song Golden Slumbers would lead me to the Blues. The Blues would lead me to the Rolling
Stones. The Stones to David Bowie. Bowie to the arts. These musical and creative particles would rally
from within and continue for the rest of my life.

Many years later, a band of brothers would come together as receivers of musicality. They would deviate
from the main highway of life, and take a secondary road. They would write original songs, and set out on a
small wandering lane in time, towards the rock n roll truth. But like many nameless rock n roll bands
around the world, they would never find fame or monetary success. They would only find a pocket full of
shiny silver memories and a handful of imagined songs.

That night in the Ford, the essence of rock n roll music had punched a hole into my sphere, revealing the
creative universe in all its panoramic colour. This life long artistic journey would lead me to a small
moment in the cosmos. And that space and time antenna, chock full of imagination, was called
Angelsmoke.
PART ONE: The Verse

It was early spring 2005. The weather lady was predicting a warm blast of southern air to carpet Toronto.
A pseudo spring heatwave! This could only mean one thing: a backyard BBQ party. It was time for some
friends, a boom box, a cocktail blender. My old pal Marcel would come to the party and also bring a guest.
As we put old man winter to bed for the season that day, I would meet Tyler Sitter for the very first time.

In the summer, my backyard was a midtown Toronto oasis, filled with fruits and vegetables. But this early
in spring, the only sign of flora was the 50 year old Macintosh Apple tree in full blossom. The backyard in
the heart of the city, quickly filled up with an assortment of bohemian characters around the oltree. The
smell of southern style sweet smoke drifted throughout the yard and over the back fence, disappearing into
the hot afternoon city. A bar table was set up in the shade of a large Coke a Cola umbrella, strictly for the
sole purpose of stock piling ice cubes, fresh lemons, limes, oranges, grapefruits mint and the most
important ingediant, the booze. The guests were encouraged to try their hands at blender drinks with freshly
squeezed juice, making up recipes at they went along. Original healthy rocket fuel for testing the tongue or
cold beer on ice. The music of the suns warm rays trickled through the tree branches and onto the faces.
Conversation and good food. It was a simple plan. Immediately my first conversations with Tyler, was
about music. Probably whatever was playing on the boom box at that time. But it would quickly turn left
towards the fine art of barbecuing a 100% beef burger with Texas Mesquite wood chips. Tyler was working
as a line cook at my favorite pub in the city at that time, called The Black Bull. He would have a few
things to say about the classic hamburger: How much heat. How many chips. What kind of cheese to use.
His honest interest in the simple art of BBQ, and his genuine passion for cooking charmed me over. On
that hot spring day in 2005, Tyler and I bonded beside the Mac tree. A full court of musicians, bartenders
and artists clinked glasses over stomachs filled with sweet southern barbeque - the stage was set.

Tylers stint at the pub was during the golden age of the Black Bull Tavern. The Bulls glory days were
coming to an end. The Tavern would eventually sell out to the man. Just like the rest of Queen West on
the lower west side of trendy Toronto. Today, the Bull is nothing more than a tourist trap full of mediocrity
and shitty food. A place the millennial crowd visit from the surrounding 905 area code. But 12 years ago, it
was still a colorful place. Transients, artists, musicians, painters, bikers, old school rounders, professors
and media types like myself, all walking through the doors of the Black Bull, searching for place to belong
in the city. So Tyler fit right in. It made sense looking back now. Ty loved people. So here was this young
dude who played guitar, looked like a freak out of a 70s biker film, loved rock and roll music and was also
the cook at my favorite pub. Very cool.

Come on down to the pub after work, food is on me he said that day at my BBQ.

One morning, Im running through my emails and I see one from Marcel.

Im starting a new band and its with that Tyler dude you met. We both want to know if you want to join?
Were going down to Pro Rehearsal at the docks tonight. Do you want to come?"

Marcel and Tyler had just quit a cool little band called HELLHITCH with Mike L on vocals. I loved the
sound these guys were making. I actually saw a few of their gigs. But their band broke up. I had nothing
going on, as my band had just broken up too. Musically, Marcel and Tyler wanted to go in a different
direction from HELLHITCH. They wanted two guitars in the band, and I was sold on the idea of having a
second guitar player. I remember Tyler saying, just like the Allmans man!

Hell YA, Im in brotha! I said

We didnt have a bass player at this point. It was just the three of us. I have played with Marcel for many
years going back to when I once opened for him in 1989 at a gig out in Mississauga. He was playing in a
band called Straight Shooter (Bad Company Cover Band). So I knew him for a long time and I figured this
project would be a riot. At the very least, we would be self-entertaining, and also have a chance to get
creative again. Tyler and I plugged in, and Im almost certain we jammed the blues that first session. It felt
natural straight out of the gate. Marcel and I were the old guys and I was the oldest. Tyler was 23 years
old, and full of creative juice and ideas. But for some reason (and I cannot explain this), his age was never a
factor. I never looked at him as some young kid. He was just one of the guys. I got lost in his personality.
Funny, mature and always willing to listen. I was playing a Les Paul and he was on a Stratocaster. Our
guitars playing together complemented each other. Like Steve Gains and Gary Rossington, it sounded like
red and black velvet. I dont ever recall him saying, Play this or do that! It just came to us like nature. We
checked out the guitar pedals we both owned. That was our thing back then. Like guys looking under the
hood of a muscle car. We talked about pedal stomps over cold beers ALL THE TIME! There was never
enough guitar pedal porn in our world. Always searching for the lost guitar tone in the wilderness of music.

The next move was to try and find a bass player. We still didnt have one. I was driving my van called the
White Whale along Bloor Street in the west end of Toronto. We were heading to the jam session. The
studio on Cherry Street was located down on the lower east side of Toronto, on the cold shores of Lake
Ontario. It was a rainy Tuesday night and I had just picked up Marcel and Ty at the house on Lansdowne
Ave.

There he is dudethe guy with the bass in his handpull over!.... pull over! Tyler screams

Tyler had placed an ad on Craigslist and had made an arrangement to have a Bass player meet us on the
street corner on our way to rehearsal. I had no idea this was going down.

Are you Joe? asks Ty

Yupare you Tyler? replies Joe.

Yuphop in brother! smiles Ty.

It was that simple. We found our Bass player.

The hardest part when you decide to get into a band is, that it can go two ways:

Option A) You can have a bunch of very talented people, but everyone in the band is going through the
motions. The band has a plan. Its called, getting paid. You learn the cover songs perfect and you hit the
stage for money. They call these players jobbers. The band sounds great and you get gigs, but at the end
of the day, you pack up your instrument and go home to your life.

Option B) You have a few guys that hit it off personally. You have some talent. There is no road map.
There is no money. There are no secret tricks to success. It just is. You have passion, energy and an idea.
Maybe you attract those special sparks floating around the universe. You grab them and stuff the little
fuckers on tape or on paper. The monster is born and unleashed to the wilds. These original songs feed the
muse. You watch this gang grow. You hope that people will dig what you bring. Pure untamed rock n roll!
You have fun. And just maybe you can be Kings at the same time.

The Option B version of this thing called rock n roll was Angelsmoke!

We decided we needed a name for this musical gang or group. Marcel came up with a list of about 25
names and we agreed on Angelsmoke. I still dig that name today. People still ask me for T-shirts.
The Docks district was just too far. After about two sessions playing down by the lake, I decided to let the
boys move their gear into my studio. We were West End boys damn it, and besides, it would take us 45
minutes in rush hour, to drive across the downtown core. My studio called Paradise Studios was located in
the upper west end of Toronto in an industrial factory used to reclaim vintage antique furniture. Its almost
impossible to find jam spaces like this in Toronto now. Real Estate prices are through the roof. But I had
the second floor of this factory for about 5 years at this time. It was 2,000 square feet of pure freedom.
Band rehearsal studios require a few basic amenities too. And finding them on a very low budget is freakin
mandatory! We had a bathroom for the ladies. We had heat for winter. And the most important thing, we
had a beer fridge. The space was also really cool. It was set up as a real live sound stage, but with an artistic
studio vibe. The walls were all red velvet. We also had artwork and album covers hanging on the walls.
Nice big sofas for chilling out on red wine or whiskey. Nice soft stage lights lit the room. It was like
Salvador Dali meets The Velvet Underground while Hunter S Thomson greets you at the lounge door. We
had a 2400-watt PA hanging from the 32 foot ceilings. A perfect space to manifest the unknown sounds.
This would be our chill space and blank canvas for what would breed the first songs from Angelsmoke.

PART TWO The Riff

I cant talk about the Tyster without mentioning his shirt. If you knew Ty during these days, you are
familiar with his blue shirt. For many years, Tyler could always be seen wearing the same ol collared shirt.
I think Mike L gave this to him. It was a 1970s country and western shirt, with button down snap buttons.
It had chocolate brown, Nashville patterns, on the shoulders. It was very cool shirt. If you consider how
many times he wore this shirt, its fascinating how clean and in flawless shape he kept it. I still dont know
how he managed this. Tyler only dislodged these threads, when he was sweating it out in the kitchen at the
Black Bull. If he was kickin around town on his own affair, you could bet a pint of Ale, that Ty was
wearing his favorite shirt. Pure fashion and punk at the same time. He also grew out a pair of furry side
chops, just like Duane Allman at one point. The image was funny to see, because at this time, Tyler wasnt
really a country music fan. He had respect for the old guys like Jennings and Haggard, but he was a Stoner
Rocker. At this point in his life, he mostly enjoyed obscure rock bands from the early 70s. The heavier the
better, but with one foot always in blues rock.

One night I was invited out to see a friend (The Pope) in Mississauga. I asked Tyler if he wanted to come
along for the drive. He said, Im in!

I reach down and pull out a CD for the long and boring ride out to the suburbs. I slide the CD into the
player. I say to him that this is one of my island records. You know the island question?

Q: If you were stranded on an island and could only bring three records, what would they be?

I KNOW I KNOW!, he says

This is one of them, I tell him.

You would pick this shitty awful record? What are you nuts? Theyve made way better records than this
and I wouldnt even pick this band anyways

My pick was the Rolling Stones and the album was Exile on Main Street.

You do know its a double album, so you get more music when you are on that island? All my picks are
double albums. Humble Pie Live at The Fillmore and The Allman Brothers Live at The Fillmore. - I say

It still sucks man, he yells over the music

I try to explain .Exile has got everything on it. Country, slide guitar, blues, fast rock n roll, Honky-
tonklots of vibes brother

Id rather listen to Burton Cummings he chimes

What are you fucking kidding me? - I reply

We argued like this, for the rest of the 45-minute drive to Mississauga. Burton vs. The Stones. The
argument went on and on and on! His lack of musical taste vs. my lack of my musical taste. This was
classic Tyler. Never one to hide his true feelings about anything or anyone. It was never a mean or an ugly
thing. Just two guys having a passionate debate.

I was passionate about music and was writing a rock music blog at the time. Tyler was just as passionate,
because he was a musical J-Cloth wiping up every bit of spilt music. Rolling down the road in the dark, we
both laughed our heads off.

I cant believe Im arguing the merits of Burton Fuckin Cummings!!! - I scream smiling

It was the funniest conversation I ever had with him.

Just arguing away that boring ride into the wind.

About 5 years later Tyler calls me up on the phone.

Hey Chris, I want to apologize to you. You were right. Exile on Main Street is hands down the best
damn Stones album in their catalog. I love it man. Its all Ive been listening to these days. The slide guitar
is brilliant! But Burton Cummings is still god man

classic Tyler!

PART THREE The Alchemy

We must have had about 6 original songs and one cover when Tyler said,

We got a gig and its this Friday night at Clintons Tavern. Were opening up for, From Beyond.

During one of our band church meetings, Tyler had mentioned that like most great bands, we all must have
a righteous handle. I guess like Joey Ramone, Pipefitter or Joe Dick one must have an alter ego when on
stage. Tyler most likely picked up this idea after watching the great Canadian fictional rockumentary Hard
Core Logo. This was Canadas answer to Spinal Tap. A cool and funny Canadian classic. So to play
along with this rock n roll mythology (or was it tradition), we deiced to crown ourselves with new
monikers: Marcel Krusher, Chris Dragon, Joe Chickenhawk and Tyler Savage.

Our first gig as a band would be Friday May 27, 2005.

There is nothing like the pressure of an up and coming gig in front of an audience to smack a band around
into shape. We practiced every night for the rest of the week, trying to tighten up for the show. We took
the Thursday night off before the gig to: replace strings, tune drums and memorize lyrics. We were a
freakin tightly oiled train by the time Friday arrived.

Joe Chickenhawk crammed his massive AMPEG Bass cabinet into his little sports car. He hardly had
enough room to hold the steering wheel. We were excited as hell. The band was finally playing a show!
We raced down the side streets of Toronto at high speeds to Clintons Tavern on Bloor Street West located
in the heart of Little Korea. The first gig at Clintons was a success. At the end of our opening set, the
audience stood up and clapped with approval. They were mostly friends, so it was hard to tell if they really
dug it, or if they were just being kind. Who am I kidding? We killed it! Tyler looked over at me across the
stage. And with that Tyler smile, LookStanding ovationstanding ovation baby!!. a proud
moment for Tyler in front of all of his friends! For us too. We actually played our first gig as a band in a
real classic Toronto Tavern!

In the dead hot month of July, a film crew from England (BBC guys) came to our rehearsal room, to
interview Marcel and his wife and also capture the band playing in what was to be used as part of a
documentary to be televised in Britain. I only mention this because; this was the moment that we all said ,
we can do freakin anything! It motivated the band to the point we could take on the world. Although this
was probably in our own minds. But what the hell pal, it still felt good.

You need these kinds of moments when you are in a rock n roll band. There are so many things ready to
take you down. Nullifying spews from shitheads trying to make you loose focus on what it is you are really
doing. Those so called musicians or friends who are nothing more than opportunists. Or worse, just
negative antagonistic people, saying crap about your art to mess with your mind. This little BBC thang,
helped us keep our eyeballs on the electric universe ahead of us. If it wasnt for the curiosity and artistic
injection of a British film crew at this point in the story, Angelsmoke may have broke down at the train
station called, End Of Line. The film crew sat with us after the shoot, drinking cold beers, pickin our
brains and just listening to music. Great bunch of blokes as they say! That night was very stimulating for
the band. It saved us from ourselves. And it also saved us from those dirty Trojan saboteurs. This was a
good thing, because this band called Angelsmoke, well lets just say, we were four badass mother fuckers
at this point in the narrative!

The fast train called Angelsmoke, was moving at million miles an hour. From May to early August of 2005
we wrote the record. During that summer, we would share our personal lives too. Childrens birthdays,
nights on the town, or hanging out in someones backyard with girlfriends and wives. But now it was time
to record. We had a low budget as always. What that really means in rock n roll language is that the
band had Zero cash. No Money for recording. We tapped our good friend The Rev from Barrie Ontario
to help record these new songs. He agreed under two conditions.

You buy me a new hard drive, and we do the recording live off the floor at Paradise Studios over one
weekend only. he said

Sold brotha! - we said

The Rev drove down to Toronto in his mobile recording van (A RunAway Audio Production)and and set
up shop. Friday night was all about setting up the gear, mics, cables and equalizing the room. Saturday and
Sunday was the live take days.

If it wasnt for bad luck, I would have any luck at all. - Albert King

Tyler wrote lyrics to a few unfinished songs, and I finished the lyrics to Moonshine Eclipse. And into the
recording session we went for the weekend. A few days earlier, the deadly Hurricane Katrina had hit New
Orleans, killing over 1200 people. It was now expected to hit Toronto as a tropical rainstorm on this
weekend. A weird smell was in the rain. All I could think of was death. But it also brought this unnatural
vibe. What I would call . the voodoo of New Orleans. This dark hand descended down on the recording
sessions. Inexplicable shite started to happen. Music gear started to fail. Hard drives would crash. Strings
would break. Things went missing. It was really odd. The New Orleans Voodoo of Katrina had blanketed
her dark force over Paradise Studios and now the recording session was becoming a victim of
unmanageable black luck. This menace may actually sabotage the art.
Tyler at one point pulled me aside, this is crazy man, what the hell was going on around here? We need to
get this back on the train tracks in a fuckin hurryor we will loose the sessions.

This was a dark realization as we only had the Revs time and gear for the weekend, so the plan was to
record only one or two takes per song. This new workflow would help save time. I like working like that
anyways, because the first take is usually the king keeper most often. The Rev ran around the studio
trying to duct tape the windows and doorways shut, so the voodoo infiltrators from Orleans, could not
overthrow the sessions any further. But we were still facing set back after set back. We pushed on through
Saturday and into late Sunday afternoon trying to get all the tracks down. Tyler famously set up a sound
booth in the bathroom for the vocal tracks on Whiskey Demon. The Band just managed to finish under
the wire, late Sunday night. We were drained of all music by this point. Just spent out damn broke. Lack of
sleep and nothing but hard work, muscle pain, and dirty rock n roll stink on our bodies. We may have
smelled really bad by this time Sunday, but it was finally a wrap or IN THE CAN BABY as they
say in the showbiz.

The only thing left to do, was to drive up to Revs house in Barrie Ontario, and mix the recording. His
studio was called: A Run Away Audio Production. It was a wonderful old white house down on Vespra
Street in old Barrie near Kemplefelt Bay. It looked like the Amityville Horror House. The house was a
custodian of all things music. From multiple acoustic guitars with alternate tunings, to world wide
percussion instruments, to an orchestral kettle drum placed in the upstairs living room. It was a safe house
for music.

I asked our recording guru (The Rev) to outline his memory on the mixing process of the record. Over to
you Rev:

When Tyler showed up to mix the album, he was fine tuning his hearing ability by listening to Burton
Cumming's Greatest Hits. Through the mixing session, Tyler needed to tweak the lyrics and remove
offensive language; so that his grand mother would enjoy the songs. As we re-recorded and fine tuned the
vocal tracks, Tye was very quick witted at creating new lyrics.

The mixing was really all done in 1 day (8 to 10 hours). It was mostly Tyler pushing us through the paces.
Chris was there and also provided a lot of input and encouragement. Joe was also there, but I think he left
early. The unfortunate band member that was unable to attend was Marcel the Krusher. BUT, he gave
the band an explicit order to make sure that the drums were louder than everything else. Tyler was the
mixing captain, persistently adding more and more energy into each and every song.

About Chriss space echo overdub on Stoned Woman; all I remember was Chris, with the headphones
on, waving his arms in the air, as if praying to an Inca Goddess. Tyler and I came in from smoking outside,
saw him in his meditative glory and we silently tiptoed to the living room, as to not interrupt the godly
space overdub!!!!!

Respect was gained, as the scheduled date for the recording weekend was delayed a few weeks. Tyler
had finally received his Marshall JMP from New York City. The band needed a few more weeks to tweak
the amp for the ungodly Angelsmoke sound. The Rev

My words could never express the gratitude the band had for the Rev. He truly was the 5th member of the
band during the recording and mixing process. Without his support, respect and time for what we were
trying to do, we would have never taken this project to the next level. I truly believe that. For starters,
Stoned Woman would have been more like Boring Woman without the vintage Space Echo painted on the
track. Mixing as I recall, went well into the night. One of the most creative times Ive ever had making
music. Surrounded by great vibes, and with a house that exposed so much character, you couldnt help but
be in the magic. I was creatively rocketing off from the surface of the moon and floating towards the NOW
PLANET. Playing with a vintage Space Echo during mixing was humbling and epic at the same time.
Thank You Rev.
We needed a break. As a reward for the whirlwind of creative recording and mixing, we would retreat to
Eagle Lake in Southern Ontario and all her dotted islands. Joe was wearing his prototypical purple haze
bandanna to keep the sunbeams from encouraging his hangover feeling. Tyler and Marcel wore cowboy
hats to hide from the man on the moon. The ladies from the Eagle Lake fashion department wore the latest
sexy bikinis. It was the classic cottage vibe in the heat of summer. Like pirates, we commandeered a boat
and conquered an island. Our weapons of choice were guitars and booze. We played music for a group of
teenagers passing by in their canoe looking for a fishing hole. Later that night, Tyler and I played slide
acoustic beside the fire pit. We drank, sang and laughed while the smell of pine and cedar burned through
the night. At one point, a minister walked up with a contract. I will baptize you in Eagle water. Was this
a native Indian? Was this real? I almost did it, just to see what would happen. The preacher faded into the
forest never to return.

Ill look for UFOs and you kick the moonshine eclipse - Tyler Sitter jammed

We would jam until the dark night turned to deep purple of the morning. This was the mountain top. We
were kings on comets in the night sky. Quantum particles in the perfect opera, if just for a split second in
infinite time. Four musical antennas floating in the universe, attracting the lighting, the glow and the
glitter.

There would be a few more cool things to play out for Angelsmoke. But looking back now, I will say that
this was the high water mark for this short-lived band. We were exiled alien pirates. The spotlight shined
on us at Eagle Lake. Life with the band on this secondary road was incredible! I watched through the
corner of my electric eye as the sparks of flames floated to the ocean of stars above our heads. The now.

PART FOUR The Hook

AngelSNAKE live at the El Mocambo on Thursday Sept 1, 2015.

Thats what it said in a small advertising box under the live music this week listings, in Now Magazine.
AngelSNAKE! The phones started to ring off the hook.

Did you see what they said in the paper? says Tyler They called us AngelSNAKEhe breaks out into
BIG laughter!

Marcel on the other hand, was rather pissed about the publishing error.

what the fuck manthey cant get our name right?thats just lazy freakin journalism! he says

But by the night of our gig at the Elmo, it became running joke with all of us. Everything was
AngelSNAKE. We sneakered about it all night, including to the promoter at the Elmo.

I have never loaded gear into the back of the Elmo before. I dont even recall if I have even been back there
prior to this show at all. To get to the loading door, you have to access a small laneway that is actually
located off of College Street. It was a hidden laneway, with a steel fence on one side and a row of brick
buildings on the other side of the lane. The lane was surprisingly small considering all the trucks and limos
that must have pulled in here at one time. The Elmo was a few doors down the lane. I got out of the van
and gazed at the closed steel door. Keith Richards walked through this doorway! Stevie RayVaughan
opened this door! I was over the moon entering this rock n roll meca knowing the history of this
insignificant back stage door. For me, this back lane lot, was the staging area for some the most legendary
music in the world. This was sacred ground. My band may have thought I was nuts, but I soaked it all in. It
all became more intense and I started to feel nervous as I set up my gear on the stage. I doubt it was the
same lumber for the stage or even the same location inside the room, but I didnt care. If these walls could
talk, Im sure they would be screaming out crazy stories of Torontos rock n roll history. The warm stage
lights bore down on my face as I set up my gear listening to the background music playing throughout the
El Mocambo. I tried to stay focused plugging in my amps and chords. I was lost in this very cool
experience, but then, things got suddenly weird. Ty was noodling with his volume by himself. He was
having trouble getting a sound out.

Interrupting Tylers focus, and with a hostile tone, the soundman yells up to the stage, are you guys ready
for a sound check yet?

Not yet man, gives us 15, Tyler says

The sound engineer walks over, and tells Tyler those famous negative words you can never EVER say to a
guitar player when that said guitar player, hasnt even done his sound check yet.

The guy throws the dart to the body: you need to turn it DOWN!

What a buzz kill. I couldnt help thinking: we werent even playing as a band yet. The volume was going
to get louder than this. Where was our very own sound man the Rev? We could have used him right
there. There is a reason why Tyler named him Marcel, The Krusher. I turn to Marcel and say, wait til
he hears you man! Marcel bends under his kit, and just keeps tightening and tuning his snare. And then
turns to me and gives me that, Satan smile! Marcel, by all accounts, is a huge power supply to himself. He
can roughly push out 400-500 watts of pure human analog thrashing. Enough to make any guitar player
reach for his own volume knob. Hes a drummer that comes from the school of John Henry Bonham. Play
loud. Its Rock n Roll not Jazz!

The Angelsmoke music gear was top of the line. It was a spaceship and also the antenna to the universe.
Some of our gear was vintage from the 1970s. This was all a big part of who we were as a band. Our gear
not only looked cool on stage, but it had an amazing live sound. Pure rock n roll tone can only be achieved
with real analog gear. Digital gear can sound great for an audience because they dont feel the sound on the
stage. Its like listing to a stereo for them. But as players, when you have analog gear on a stage, there is
nothing like it. The air from the speakers created from analog waves gets pushed throughout your body,
mind and ears. Digital amps could never replicate that true psychical feeling. For players on a stage there is
nothing that sounds better. There is a reason why most of the masters still use analog gear on stage today.
Our gear was a vessel of tone. And we had some of the best gear.

I quickly realized the problem we were facing was with the stage, was not with the sound man or gear. The
stage we were standing on, was about 3 or 4 feet high from the ground by about 25 feet wide. It was made
of lumber, so it was acting as massive speaker cabinet; booming out all our music from inside of the boxed
stage. Then when you add the PA, the amps, the drums on top of all that, you can understand the acoustic
challenge for a band like us. This band wasnt familiar with a stage this thick before. The stage in our
studio was only 6 inches off the ground. Im sure this is why the soundman couldnt get the sound on first
check. I mention the scenario to the band and suggest we capitulate to the stage. They agree. After the
second song in the sound check we had the volume rolled to the sweet spot for the room. This wasnt our
pure Angelsmoke sound because as a band, we need to push our gear loud to get to that natural breakup of
real rock n roll tone. But it still sounded killer that night in the Elmo. We would make a note of this
learning experience for the second time we would come back to play here. Sometimes if you just let off on
the throttle a bit when you get to the top of the hill, you can take in the amazing view.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the greatest band in the world, AngelSNAKE! I still have the press clipping that
reads AngelSNAKE. I was looking through my archived lyrics book recently and came across an original
setlist we used for the El Mocambo. We opened with a cover song:
SETLIST;

Im Loosing You - by Rare Earth

Evil Hand PT 1 & 11

Moonshine Eclipse

Whiskey Demon

Bloodgrass

Redhawk

Thirteen

Stoned Woman

There was a video shot of this performance, but someone forgot to press record. Anglesmoke would play
the legendary El Mocambo, TWICE! For me personally, I was very proud of this. I know this is true with
Tyler too, because we talked about it at the bar over drinks many, many, times. If I was meeting Tyler
someplace, like a pub or bar, he would walk up to me and yell out for everyone to hear:

Hey dude, youre that guy that played the El Mocambo right? Ty would say

People would turn and look at us like. so what, who the hell are those guys

And then on his approach we would both break out laughing and hug and say our HELLOS

We both knew deep down that this band would never be on the level of Monster Magnet, Humble Pie or
Clutch but we could always say that we played the stage of the El Mocombo. Tyler will always go down
in history as someone who played on the stage of the Elmo. The same place where Marilyn Monroe, The
Ramones, The Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Big Walter Horton, April Wine and Moxy all
played. This was sacred ground for Toronto music. As I write this, Greg Godovitz told me this past
weekend, that the Elmo will re-open in 2017. He also went on to tell me the legendary Eddie Kramer
(Hendrix among others) is building a recording studio there too. The music is still alive at the Elmo!
PART FIVE- The Outro

A man who procrastinates in his choosing will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance
- Hunter S Thompson

November freezing rain is a bitch in this town, so I decided I couldnt stand it any longer and jumped on a
plane to Cuba for libations and beach sun. By the time I got back it was over. The fast train had hit the wall.
There was no slowing into the station. Just as fast as it started that May, the band had ended by the end of
year in December 2015. We left behind a few shows, a few original songs, and a trail of memorable
smoke. Angelsmoke was rendered.

Marcel and I were the old buggers. Tyler and Joe were the young punks in the band. But we were one unit.
We had a lot fun during those days as a band. I will always be proud of the songs Angelsmoke wrote. Every
song was raw and real and stripped down to the basic form. They were not pop songs. Just four guys
making music with no direction or purpose. If you want to hear what rock n roll sounds like when there are
absolutely no rules among the players floating in space and time, then listen to Whiskey Demon or Stoned
Woman. Our music is not for everyone. You really have to have an open mind and not expect hooky radio
blurps, or perfect familiar musical arrangements. The songs came live off the floor, in one or two takes,
from a place of rock n roll truth. Marcel started the process but it was clear that the quantum physics would
magnate to Tyler. He held us together like brick mortar most of the time. Angelsmoke ended as a
catastrophic explosion. I could say one person fucked up. Or I could say We all fucked up. Or I
could say It doesnt fucking matter because we did what we wanted to do. Looking at it now, it was the
right time. There was no way to contain the nuclear meltdown at the reaction plant. If you are asking what
was the modifying or influencing factor to the break up? well there wasnt one.it was a pure force of
nature. Angelsmoke was destined to stop here.

We all still remained friends after the end. And thats the cool part about Angelsmoke. We dont get to see
each other as much these days. The train ride was over and the gang had taken off its leathers, but we
remained brothers over the years. Tyler jumped into a band called Bloodgrass, and Marcel and I picked up
players here and there to jam on weekends. Joe has been playing in a successful band called Low Orbit
over the years. Check them out if you can.

Joe and Marcel may remember things differently back then, but this is how my brain stored the
Angelsmoke memories into the cranium hard drive. And Im sticking to it MOFOs.

There were a few other amazing peeps that floated in and out of this world of ours. I would not have met
some of these cool characters, if it wasnt for Tyler Sitter: Casey the owner of the record store above the
Horseshoe Tavern, Sheldon the Black Bull Bartender, Jeffy the cook at the Black Bull, Mike the lead singer
of Hellhitch, From Beyond who gave us our first gig, Dan the Angelsmoke webmaster, Gary Glenn of
Blood Grass, The Pope - one of the few people who saw both Elmo shows, Teeder - another superfan, JR
who bootlegs our Smoke apparel to this day. Im sure Ive missed a few great people but you know who
you are. If you look hard enough you will find a bookshelf. On that shelf is a picture of four guys at a table.
They are drinking beer looking like race horses. Frozen in time forever.

So thats a small picture of what its like to be in a rock n roll band with brothers. I enjoyed looking back in
the rear view mirror. Its been years since Ive listened to the music. On behalf of Tyler and the band I want
to say thank you to everyone who was part of the Angelsmoke trip. We had a blast! When the last word is
written, I think Ill go for a long ride on my Harley Davidson motorbike and give Angelsmoke another
spin.
PART SIX - The Candence

Cadence; a melodic or harmonic configuration that creates a sense of resolution the dictionary

Eventually Tyler would decide to head back home. Marcel & Anna threw a going-away party for him at
their Victorain style house on Lansdowne Ave. A few days after the party, I drove Tyler down to the
Greyhound bus station on lower Jarvis somewhere. We unloaded all his amps, guitars and luggage. We
shrunk wrapped all the loot, and had it shipped in the buss cargo bay for the three day journey to the other
side of the country. A few days later, he packed a small personal bag and jumped on a plane for Calgary to
rendezvous with his gear. I would see him one more time after that, but with his amps and guitars now
gone, I knew we wouldnt be playing in a band together any time soon. He flew back east to Toronto in
2009, but sadly without his guitar. So we made plans to go to a concert together. In classic Tyler fashion we
would smuggle a case of beer (24 bottles) into the Canadian National Exhibition. He said he would act as a
decoy by chatting up the young girl at the gate, while I dragged in the clanking beer cooler. As crazy as
this plan seemed, it worked! We were there to see the 40th Anniversary of Woodstock. Lesley Wests
Mountain, Johnny Winter and Canned Heat. It was a beautiful day at the end of the summer. The skies
were blue. The Ex was in full swing with cotton candy, rides and game barkers. Vintage rock music
floated from the Bandshell. We saw many shows together, but this show was perfect. The crowd, the
music and the weather. We would occasional bring up that show and talk about how cool the vibe was at
that concert. I look back now at that day, and relize it would also be the last concert and the last time I
would see Tyler. He headed west again for a final time. As the years past, we would always talk on the
phone or via email. Sometimes I wouldnt hear from him for a while, but when we finally spoke it was for
hours. It was like we never missed a day. Im sure he was like that with others too. He loved people. There
was also talk of marriage and how he wanted me to be there at the wedding. He said that Marcel and I had
to make the trip to Montreal for the celebration. I was so happy for him that he finally found someone he
cared deeply for. But like life, plans would change again in the now.

In a world of texting and email, he was one of the few people in my life, that I actually spoke with on the
telephone. I miss those spews. I was recently told that he was thinking of coming back out to Ontario for a
new start. But Tylers time out here in Ontario was not all positive. It wasnt all shooting stars and
fireworks. Life would deliver (at it does), a few low moments to Ty. A silver cup filled with turmoil. Life
can do that. It throws multiple hardballs at your head, just when you are watching the songbird sing in the
rose bush. But I want to state, Marcel was a HUGE support for Tyler after Smoke. When Ty never had a
place to sleep, or food in his stomach, or a friend to calm the craziness of the world, Marcel was ALWAYS
a reliable brother. Even when some friends gave up at times (including me), many times Marcel picked up
the tab of life and was there for him. I saw it first hand. A true brother.

(Hey Marcel: I think Tyler would have wanted to Thank You for that.)

I turned Tyler onto Christopher Hitchens, Hunter S Thompson, Hard Core Logo and Duane Allman. He
turned me on to Clutch, Nebula, and made me rediscover the magic of King Crimson. We both hated
mainstream pop culture unless it was way over the top. Example: He loved Mike Reno. One night at the
Wheat Sheaf Tavern, Tyler played Loverboy on the Jukebox. Over and over and over again. It was 1 Hour
of solid Loverboy! Tyler thought it was hilarious. The bar thought it was fuckin hell. Or the time we drank
really expensive Scotch Whiskey, mixed with cheap dollar store ginger aleClassic Ty!!! Stay close to
your personal truth. With a smile.

The free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when
you are near or with them - Charles Bukowski
The last text I received from Ty, was him wishing me a Happy New Year 2017. My last conversation I had
with Ty was shortly after that. It was about a guitar pedal he discovered. (Yet another guitar pedal
company). When I went out and bought a pedal from the company he recommended, I called Ty to tell
him, and to talk pedal porn once again. He never responded to my message. This was odd because he
always answered my questions in our correspondence. I chalked it up to: he was having phone issue. But
after days of not hearing back I knew something was off.

Then I received the heart breaking news from Marcel. Like most of his family and friends, we were all
devastated. Tyler was suddenly gone. At the very young age of 35 years old, he slipped away from my
world. Why is a question I will always ask. Im not sure if Ill ever get that answer. Tyler was an atheist, so
I think he would want me to keep movingto move in pace with THE NOW.

move along mannothing to see here but ashes and dirt. - I think he would say. So I will.

Part Seven The Manifesto

In the end, as much as it was hard, I think Tyler Sitter would say he lived life with the volume full on.
Some folks spend 80 years on this planet lost, lonely and never get to figure it all out. Its right there in
front of you. The NOW! You just need to taste it. Tyler was always tasting, listening, feeling, seeing,
touching - living for today. More than most I would say. As a young man, Tyler reminded me not to forget
the now. As you get old life gets in the way as they always say. Life is not in the way, its right there
to take. Its about The fire, the sparks man! Its as beautiful as choosing the right kind of cheese for
your hamburger. Or the perfect tone for your guitar. Or spinning the perfect song on a stereo in the hot still
heat of a lazy summer day. He reminded me that life has its ups and downs. The trick is finding that
middle ground and being okay with it. The ruff parts and the good parts. Not to let the good days get ahead
of you because you know they never last anyways. Not letting the black rain of lost hope wash over your
eyes either. When I was with him, he sucked up every minute of life. His deep laughter bellowing out from
the depths of his soul. Always smiling, he loved people. Ty had strong opinions on subjects he cared
passionately about. But he would also listen to the other side too. But you better have a strong argument or
he would flog you with an assault of literary research, or science, or facts, making you second guess your
argument in the first place. I loved that. Im really going to miss those enlightened conversations deeply.

I will always be grateful to Tyler Savage Sitter for the music we made together. Tyler was a son. He was
an artist. He was a friend. He was a brother. But more than all that, he was loved. And thats all anyone
needs.

Im still trying to make light of it all. Im a self-identifying optimistic agnostic. So I hope we will meet
again some day. Im hoping hes holding a spot for me on that infinite galactic stage. Keeping the guitar
amplifiers toasty warm till I get there. To jam like quantum musical particles spinning around within.

To the opera that is life.

Peace and Power, CHRIS DRAGON

I sing in key, thank you very much. Burton Cummings

All right reserved 2017

There will be an audio podcast companion to come out later this year.