Shawn Carle
Biography
From the start, Shawn Carles musical career was destined to unfold like a troubadours tale; No meteoric rise, no airport arrests, no headlines, yet no less legendary. Carles journey into the hearts of those who love his music began in the early eighties.
The obligatory high school talent shows, house party beer bands and UI adventures hallmarked the young Lynn Valley writer's youth. Carle fought hard for chances to showcase himself in an effort to not only master the art of writing a great song, but also refine a natural talent to entertain.
Out of high school, and attending Langara College as an aspiring actor, Carle battled for a breath as the tides of simple survival swirled in. Unhappy and full of youthful stupidity, Shawn dropped out of school and soon floundered. Following in the footsteps of local heroes and influences like Geoff Gibbons And Silverlode, Carle began the first of several love/hate relationships with the fabled North Shores Lonsdale Avenue . Playing rooms like The San Francisco Pizza Department, The Vault and North side Jonnys he began to cement a following of peers. Equally displaced and in need of a good time, the crowd was faithful and fitful. Just as things moved dangerously close to something more than just a great time, The Lower Lonsdale scene collapsed.
Nowhere near immune to life's offerings, Carle loved and lost, lived and laughed, and worked. With bleeding hands he nimbly carved out the rarest of gigs in a recession-ravaged wasteland of canned music, deejays, and meat markets. More importantly, he wrote and wrote. Weaving lyrical songs from the yarns of his dreams and fears, he still carried the candle of inspiration.
Now working as a late night radio announcer, Carle drifted into a whole new arena.
Hosting a live country music broadcast nightly, interviewing writers, watching pickers and soaking in all the cultural offerings of a very generous scene, Carle had an epiphany.
Previously lost in a blistering desert of Hair Bands , Techno-Pop and Pre-Fab idols, the honesty, simplicity and history of country was a cool drink of water for Carle. He listened, he learned, and he wrote. String-wizard Nolan Murray may have been the first to realize the quality of song Carle was penning. As sure as water falls, it wasn't long before Murray and Carle were recording. Beginning a long lasting loyalty and friendship with Don Thompson , Carle and Murray began making Carles' first recording in Studio 56.
Tucked away above a repair shop in Langley BC, the studio was fertile ground to plant in. Murray, never one to shy away from great publicity, secured the help of regional greats, Gary Fjellgaard, Linda Kidder, Rob Poole, Rob Becker, and more.
The end result was new friendships, a hell of a good time, and one six-song EP that had remarkably strong legs.
The EP Taken Away was born. Murray 's' influence was both strong and constructive.
“Working with Nolan is like being inside a hurricane. I never planned to do such a blue-grassy recording, but Nolan made it sound so damn good…it just made sense”.
With Murray holding Producer credits he pounded the press to fantastic avail.
The ever-growing BC Country Music Association took notice. As well as Carle picking up The Horizon Award nomination (New Artist Of The Year), Taken Away also received the coveted EP Of The Year nomination. The momentum gathered led to Carle playing a smattering of higher profile gigs, including the privilege of sharing some concert rosters with the likes of Canadian legend Valdy , country stars Prairie Oyster , and even one opener for international greats The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.
In the business of music, hype and momentum, tends to fall away like a passing highway sign. Friendships however, hold a greater resilience. Through the country era of Carles' career his first collaboration formed. Radio, humour and a love of music pushed Carle and the virtuoustic Loggins-like Kevin Bader together. The pairing resulted in several wonderful tunes including Tale Of Me & You, and Black & Whites, both recorded by country singer Peter Priebbe. Perhaps the most valued result of the combined effort was a lofty love song entitled The Love We've Found. Used with devastatingly effective clarity on The Variety Club Kids Telethon, you can also find a rendition of the tune on Bader's self-titled debut.
“That is one of the songs I am most proud of. That and a song I wrote called Alberta December which only appeared on a Christmas album whose proceeds were all given to help children with Aids. Periodically…if you are lucky…your passion and your art come together and really do add something physical and real to someone's' life. That is the real thing”.
The once faithful and fitful followers of Shawn Carle had by now scattered like autumn leaves. Some to heartbreak, most to the rigors of matrimony and children, Carle was once again wandering. Soon to be out of the radio business and creative as ever, Carle returned to a New Lower Lonsdale. This time the pubs and bars gave way to the bohemian element.
Coffee shops, book stores and pool halls dotted the landscape, and soon so would Carles influence. Starting with a house gig at The Great Canadian Sandwich Pie Company, he started to solidify a new following. Quickly he moved over to a joint that would garner both Carle and Lonsdale with desperately needed notoriety.
The regular attraction and soon to be fixture on the Avenue, Carle became the scene at Spirals Coffee House. With raw ambition, a healthy dose of denial and a pocket full of illusion, proprietor and friend Ian Stabler marched along with Carle. Through flying torpedoes the two forged a bona fide scene. A North Shore version of The Village, nights came alive. A young and eager crowd began to settle into the scene….as did a crop of world-shaking musicians. It was here Carle met a mystical figure. Musical shaman, and hired gun, Charlie Hase with his Lindley-esque lap steel was looking for a new vehicle for his expression. Carle had it. An explosion ensued. When the dust settled Shawn Carles' first Quartet was forged.
The band started out with transplanted Edmontonian Brian Will on bass and back up vocals. The smooth sincerity of Will was in high demand, and being in several bands took its toll. Eventually Will was replaced with Toronto-born String Band alumni Dennis Nichol. “One of the nicest human beings I know, Dennis is still a wonderful friend. But man, hey would just lay down this amazing jazzy melodic stuff…he was the ‘trained' professional type I really needed”. Finally, mysterious and hypnotic, Michael Moore pulled drum duty. Having done time with greats Wilson Pickett and JD Souther Moore's drumming not only offered a unique glimpse into classic American music styles, he offered fans an exceptional show. And shows there were!
Word spread like a sexually transmitted infection. Part Jim Morrison, part Harry Chapin, and part Neil Diamond, the shows become explosive and rhythmic. Often dangerous, always exciting, the whiskey-fueled fires Carle lit in many ways continue to burn strong today. In what seemed like an instant, line-ups formed. Dates ensued, the calendar filled up again, and Shawn Carle was yet again dangerously close to being a thing . Carle needed a new product; a CD to reflect this new and vital era in his musical life. Tapping friends and relatives alike, passing tip jars and selling gear, Carle headed back to Studio 56 with a fistful of money, and an irrepressible vision.
Not too far into the project the wheels fell off. Disputes amongst players, the temporary but crucial loss of Dennis Nichol, failures stacking up, and all the while money dripping away, Carle was distraught. “ I remember wanting to drive my Buick off The Second narrows Bridge on the way home one night. I could not believe how poorly it was going. I needed help”. Help tumbled into the studio one night in the form of legendary session drummer Gerry Adolphe . Adolphe offered his services in an attempt to salvage what he thought were a bunch of great tunes. A deal was struck, the train was rolling again. Thirteen varied and powerful tales of love and living began to form the content of what was to become Carles sophomore effort Number 2.
Desperate for further success, Carle called in what few markers he had. Vancouver R&B pioneer and B3 hero Robbie King made an appearance. Back from a tour with KD Lang, Linda Kidder came in as well. Leaning heavily on compadre Charlie Hase, Carle managed to keep some of the searing guitar texture and pure joy that had laced his live shows, but overall the recording fell short.
“I was unable to capture any of the magic. I still think they were great songs. These were the songs we were bringing roofs down with night after night…but with all the problems going on and the simple fact I had no idea what I was doing, ensured that the train was destined to derail”. Despite being mired in shortcomings, the recording was not without its moments of redemption. As well as the haunted homage to one of Carles recently killed friends Big Richard, and some rare performances by some of Vancouver 's greatest session cats, there was one very personal artistic victory for Carle.
“ I have always been obsessed with the history of The Second War……and especially taken with The Holocaust. I don't know why. Anyway one night I sat down at my mother's piano and it literally shot through me and into my hands. I ran to Dons place (Studio 56)
And laid it on him. He cried. He said it was very effective but asked me if I thought it was appropriate for the recording. My mind was galvanized. We recorded me playing the song on the piano. Something was still chasing me. I called Linda. (Linda Kidder)
I told her to do what ever she felt. We turned the lights off, poured the wine, rolled a number up, lit the candles and she proceeded to rip our hearts out of our chests and leave them in a puddle of tears on the floor. To this day…that song is the purest form of inspired art I have ever known. I still feel honoured that the ghosts and that Linda and Don blessed me with that one”!
Out of money, Carle released the CD to rabid crowd of followers without benefit of mastering, promotion or distribution. The disc managed to make the rounds of the local media, despite the controversial cover featuring Carle on a toilet with a Rolling Stone magazine; the result of “ too much wine, a misguided sense of humour, poor judgment and a dare”. In Carles words: “ The cover did about as much to foster sales and promote the disc a fart on a first date!”
The television appearances ended and the hype fizzled out. Although Shawn Carle was still a force to reckon with on Lonsdale Avenue , it looked as though another parking lot loomed on the horizon. In a lucky twist, lugging behind him a reluctant neighbourhood pub and a small budget, along came visionary Scott Abernethy. He convinced Shawn that Jack Lonsdale's Pub was the new home for original music on the avenue. Physically and mentally, Carle moved up the hill to Jacks, and into a new phase in his musical and his regular life.
Carle was showcasing his material to yet again a new crowd. Back in the “bars” Carle continued to learn ways to make his music poignant and his delivery ever more potent.
It was during these times Shawn became entwined with another influence that would seduce his passion. “The Blues” bit Carle in the ass. Abernethy, with the blessing of Jacks wanted a jam session every Sunday night. Rightly, and without hesitation, Abernethy secured the talents of The Jammin' Bhuddas. With ex Purple Gang front man Johnny Faith , acid jazz pioneer Marty Tonaka on guitar, and funk groove daddy Roscoe Hales on drums, the band was not just patient and welcoming, but wickedly effective, cutting a swath like a broadsword through the gloom of the dark rainy Sunday nights. Shawn and the Bhuddas quickly developed a mutual friendship and respect. Through many great jams and drinks, Carle was invited into the fold. “I was fairly sure the guys liked me, but I knew they dug my harp playing, and I could cut up some of the front man duties for John and Marty. No matter what, I owe the Bhuddas an unpayable debt for giving me a chance to find my blues voice, play with them, and learn as much as I did”. For two years The Sunday Jam became an institute with not only regulars and local players, but it opened the door for many celebrated personalities including the late Long John Baldry, Lindsay Mitchell of Prism fame, Stormin' Normin' , Oliver And The Elements, and on one crazy chicken-wing littered night…. Meatloaf's Band! It was here Carle met aspiring children's book creator and artist Dana Mennie. Mennie not only provided Carle with a sense of camaraderie, inspiration, beer, friendship and competition, he also introduced Carle to a man who would become a lifelong friend and trusted advisor of the rarest quality.
“Barry Whittaker is the kind of guy who could get you God on the phone if you needed to talk to him”. Being an accomplished screenplay writer as well as being ex-Airborne, Whitakers organization and attitude appealed to Carle. “I hit it off with Barry right off. He saw instantly I was useless when it came to ‘running' my career. I still think he offered to manage me because at the time, it seemed like it might be less frustrating than watching me fuck it up”.
The highs again led to the lows. Despite helping to create yet another scene on his beloved North Shore, the fabric began to tear in Carles tapestry once more.
Things were slowly burning out at Jacks and Carle knew it. Back down at the bottom of the hill the once storied Seven Seas Restaurant was failing. In an attempt to resurrect its vitality, live music became a new menu item. With original music its main focus, the small lounge below the main dining area opened. Shawn Carle offered his energies. Along with many others, he poured his soul into what would become a temporary nirvana for the bohemian element. Writers flocked like gulls to this bastion of original expression. The drinks flowed and the music played. Wyckham Porteous , John Bottomly , Paul Hyde, Megan Metcallfe and a great deal more all showed up. “That little room was fantastic, but it simply could not sustain itself, nor could it support all the taxation it was under…I mean there was a lotta shit goin' down on that boat”. During “The Boat” era, Carle set about attempting to redeem the still stinging letdown of Number 2. As though by accident, Carle rekindled a tremendous friendship and working relationship with “the wigged out brilliant bastard” that gave Carle his first few guitar lessons. In the smoky and desperately cluttered basement of Ian Cooks Soundbarn in North Van, the project slowly took shape. With Mennie supplying the first injection of money, recording sessions started.
By now Shawn had found a new feel. The lyrical and flowery material he calls “ The Steinbeck Era” had moved aside for a biting and hard-edged blues/rock hybrid. A decade of struggle and a myriad of heartbreaking letdowns had given birth to a gritty, often political and angry voice. Heavy weight Darrel Mayes of Colin James fame took the drummers seat. Piano great and vocal diva Diane Lines joined in. Old pals Geoff Gibbons and Ross Hales lent a voice as well. “ I figured all the planets were going to line up this time for sure. We had great songs…new songs…songs that were working great live. We had Baker Street on line and it seemed a sure fit. Success was just around the corner….right”?
Typicaly, the original shot of money ran out after basic tracks. Carle was scrambling with Mennie to find ways to carry on. “Shit we didn't just rob from Peter to pay Paul, fuck we killed him and sold everything he had”. Before long all efforts were focused on pulling a miracle out of a bag. “ Its nobody's fault” Carle says with the tone of a prisoner accepting his sentence. “Its hard to inspire people to knuckle down and really work on your thing when all you have left to offer is a bag of shake, and a half finished bottle of red wine”.
Paul Baker did all he could do to help, but after working with Hole, Mettalica and too many more to mention, his patience was understandably tattered. The album originally titled, Dashboard Eyes was shelved. His heart cracked again, Carle watched his music and his life grind to a depressing halt.
By now things in the bar business were morphing once more. What was to become “The Time Of The Sports Bar” had begun. All over the city, rooms where once Carle played on a regular basis with both his band and the Bhuddas, were gone. Bars scaled down or cut their entertainment budgets all together. Even Jacks was pulling bands out. Carle, with the help of Charlie Hase, plodded on as a duo. The band was splintered and gone. “ Yea those were brutal times. The band was like a vintage Oldsmobile you only took out on a rare sunny Sunday afternoon”. Everything seemed destined to fail in his musical life, yet Carle did have a few brushes with success that left him more winded and empty than inspired.
“Charlie and I opened for Billy Cowsill one night at The Railway Club . Barry and Dana had managed to actually convince BTO and Loverboy manager Lou Blair to come and check us out. We talked. He said I was great…actually he said he figured I was like the next Springsteen or something, and that I had it all. I asked excitedly if he would help me find my way up. He sipped on the greyhound we bought him , and said ‘No'”
Carles bitterness started to close in. His friend Mennie was on his way to LA to push his new kids book. He invited Carle along. With Whittaker manning the phones and charting the route the two made three trips to the storied city.
“Barry was amazing for me. He got me into every office. We got some interest but nothing really developed except my addiction to old Chandler novels, Scotch and Marlboros”.
With only a handful of rooms from Whistler to Richmond to play in, Carle kept trying but was sinking. During these thin times his personal life collapsed, as did his spirit and his relationships. The trio of Mennie Whittaker and Carle ended too. “It all blew up. It was awful. Barry had a heart attack and we thought we'd lost him. He had to quit all the show biz shit to get well again. Dana and I had a falling out and he split town I think. There I was, alone. Music had enraptured me for so long I never really grew up. I had been surfing along on the goodwill and help of friends for so long I never really learned to be independent at all. I was literally living in my Chevy van, parking at night on side streets and borrowing showers where I could. Yea I was falling down and growing up.”.
Carle made a plan. Through a turn of events strange enough to warrant a whole other story, Carle had one friend left he could relate to. Now living in Rockport Texas, Dallas native and blues/soul great David Bottle-Head Miller told Shawn to “Come on down”. “That was the plan. Fix up the van then make a run for Texas. I didn't give a shit if I ever saw Vancouver again. Then came that night…”
“That night” Carle stopped into Jack Lonsdale's Pub to mooch a bowl of soup from the cook they called Chicken Wing. There, at a table gazing out into the gray spring drizzle of a Vancouver night, Carle ate free soup and sipped on the wine an acquaintance left, and pondered fate. Fate walked in and changed his life.
The woman who would become the love of his life, and his inspiration, sat down. He knew of her but had never had a chance to talk. “ She was you know…..untouchable. When she showed up a choir suddenly started singing you know”? She offered him a garage to live in and repair his van. That's exactly what happened. Despite the fact that he quickly fell deeply in love with this angel, soon after he'd risk this, the only good sure thing he'd known in a long time. With a stash provided from a variety of generous sources, including some well-meaning old friends from his radio days, he made up his mind to leave. On a devastating and soul wrenching June evening, he was gone for Texas.
The brother he never had, Miller took Carle under his Southern fried wing. On this, his third sojourn to The Lone Star State, Carle experienced a rebirth. Becoming a student of American music, Miller became a passport to a world no green-blood would ever otherwise know. A neophyte, he drowned in swing and soul, blues and country. Drunk on roadhouses, Texas heat and The Troubadours lingering legends, he learned…..and he wrote.
Traveling in Millers band blowing harp and playing pick-up guitar, they visited all the mythical places: The Hole In The Wall in Dallas, Doctor Rockets in Corpus, Club Dada, The Greenville Bar & Grill, The Longwood, The Grapevine, The Executive Surf Club…
“It was like another planet man. Dave always would just smile that big ol' smile and say ‘Hey man….that's what we do…stand and deliver'”
That saying became Carles credo and work ethic in a phrase. Miller and Carle blasted through endless rooms; as a duo, as a band, and as comedians and hobos. From open mic nights in Fulton, to original music showcases in Austin; Port Aransas to Mustang Island, everyone knew Miller and came to know Carle. “Through a great drummer named Chris Vanderkolk ,I remember meeting a lady who offered me a job weeding a garden in Austin for some cash. Turned out to be Susanne Gilkerson's place! I had unwittingly met her manager! She also managed Jimmy Lefavre . Of course I nagged her until she finally listened to my shit. Next thing…I opened for Jimmy”.
After more than six artistically and spiritually productive months however,
Carle was illegal, homesick and in love. He returned home to The North Shore and his love. Welcoming him into a home she had created for them, they got down to making plans.
Like a gardener and his overgrown ivy, Carle hacked away at old ties. “For the first time in my life I entered a phase where I tried to become responsible for myself and my loved ones. I was also wildly creative, strong. Something was different. Now when I played my music it felt like it was supposed to”. Carle stumbled through many dead end jobs, as he and his love struggled to make ends meet. Fate soon swung another subtle hammer when rent increases, rodents and a rotting Lonsdale music scene forced a move. Seeking cheaper housing, safer streets and a new start, Carle and his clan migrated to Vancouver Island, and the idyllic town of Parksville BC.
Once settled in, Carle started the inevitable hunt for places to play and people to meet.
Seeming like a miracle, the region provided an abundance of great veteran players, bars, pubs, taverns and most importantly: People who went out in search of live music! Carle was lost in appreciation for this new fold in his old blanket.
It was local resident and music aficionado, Jim Bell who first suggested Shawn host a jam session at the once lofty Rocking Horse Pub. Carle was introduced to log-home builder and drummer, Keith Cyr. Becoming instant friends and comrades, Cyr knew exactly who to turn to for the other half of the rhythm section. “ As soon as I heard him play bass and lay down his Rick Danko style harmony I was sold”. It was an added bonus that the whole Island seemed to know Rick Frew , and that he became such a close friend.
The trio began hosting what was to become nothing short of a bizarre phenom in the form of the regular Thursday Night Jam at The Horse. The gunners came in droves, but one in particular set the night aglow. Splitting the night air with a mighty telecaster tantrum, virtuoso Mike Viara did more than up the musical ante. “ Mike Viara..what can I say? Mike pretty much resurrected the joy of music for me. I mean now not only did I have some friends to crank it up with and have a great time, but also the music was making the hair on my arms stand up. We sounded great! And people were really digging it”.
Viara, a regular hired gun for Diamond Joe White , was ready for a change. The Festival Circuit, folk gigs, and all the sideman work he had been doing had stifled his energy. Carle and Viara together are like zookeepers. With a sly grin, they will suddenly decide its time to leave the gates open and let the animals run. The end result is almost always a staggering and spiritual release of music and joy.
Soon the band was booked, “Till hell won't have it”. They had several “House Gigs” and were working steadily. He took every offer. Weddings, parties, jams, duo work, solo work, picnics and whatever else he could find. Carle had never experienced such fruitful times……he had never been so exhausted either. “Keith and I were just fucked most of the time. He was building in the days, and I was driving rigs. I mean getting up at 6 after going down three hours before, day after day, week after week. We'd stumble into the bar half asleep, set up the gear, slam a drink or two down, jump up on stage and BAM!…away we go again”.
Weary and ready to regroup, Carle called an end to the house gigs and the regular jam.
Though they had a lighter schedule, the band carried on, and Carle wrote.
During the next while Keith Cyr became a father (again) and the music was changing. With a burden he still feels laden with now, Carle replaced Cyr. “ We all love Keith like a brother. He was the first guy I met here, and I will always feel a deep bond with him. He's a great drummer and a great guy. But we were needing a different feel on the drums for the direction I was hoping to take us”.
In a strange twist of fate, published writer, and member of the band Trio Grande, Pat Heduc soon entered the fold. A seasoned veteran and exciting performer, Heduc was a natural pick as the new drummer in the band that was to become known as The Streamliners.
“ I have never been happier musically. The Streamliners are the band I have waited for all these years. They truly are like their namesake. They are a train that can carry my songs in luxury, thundering through the Western night. I am always the proudest one after a show, because I got to play with these guys”.
Shawn Carle And The Streamliners have become the preferred band of music fans all up and down the inside coast of The Island. The shows are always a magical blend of music, laughter, emotion and dancing. Coupling the meat and potatoes of classic favorites and blues standards, with the spicy and overwhelming tastes of his own songs, Carle and The Streamliners feed a hungry crowd a five star meal of choice entertainment every time.
Carle is thrilled to see that consistently the show favorites are his own songs.
“ Vancouver tends to make artists begin to think that people everywhere are as hard to please as they are. One thing about it is that it sure teaches you how to work hard at reaching folks. I cannot explain the joy I feel to hear people call out for my songs”.
Carle is understandably leery of commenting on what he thinks the future holds.
One thing that does seem certain however, is that Shawn Carle And The Streamliners are a sure bet musically. Always ready to “stand and deliver” their shows are always the place to be. The Rocking Horse has given Carle a new lease on music, and a group of new friends. One of which is Ottawa native Bruce Williams who is now managing Carle. “Bruce is like a street brawler in his own way. He loves a challenge. I asked him if he wanted to get into a heartbreaking, thankless wonderful business. He smiled like a villain, rolled up his sleeves and never looked back”.
Now these two rub their hands together like plotting criminals, busily laying out the groundwork for what will become a new recording. Due out this spring, there are a great deal of people anticipating the new CD after such a long wait; Especially Carle himself
“ I will always keep on trying to get that one recording that truly represents me Lord knows anything can happen…but I hope to have a new CD out come spring. So many people have supported me and believed in me along the way. For all of you, and for all the sacrifices made, I sure hope this one will vindicate us all”.