Trinity College School - Record Yearbook (Port Hope, Ontario Canada)

Page 23 text:

il memorial compositions. Though Mimi and Tom Jans are well matched and play and harmonize well together; I felt she I seemed different without Richard and she ap- | peared unable to become as involved in her | songs as she once did. Nevertheless they played well and would have been fine for a concert more suited to their music. However, it was Cat Stevens ' night and everyone was waiting for Cat to appear. It was clear that nobody was going to steal his lime- light. So once again the result of staging lesser | known talent before the big names was merely a formality. Mimi Farina Tom Jans With mainly Cat Stevens ' fans in the hall, Mimi Farina and Tom Jans had the hard task of opening the concert. They opened competently, but lacked the vitality and excitement to in- volve the audience in their singing. Their music resembled that of the traditional Farina style, though I felt Mimi lacked the depth she used to show with her late husband Richard. After Richard was killed in a 1966 motorcycle accident, Mimi fell into depression and retired from the music world. Eventually she was paired up with Tom Jans through friends and that started her comeback. Tragedy has played a big part in the songs composed by Mimi Farina today, and especially at the concert, where she played numerous J. A. Barford

Page 22 text:

Cat Stevens at Massey Hall Mimi Farina and Tom Jans put on a good performance, but it wasn ' t until the Cat ' s second song that one could feel the magic that fills the air of a good concert. The audience became at once focused and relaxed. Most of his songs show a deep searching, whether it be the answers for many questions or a worldwide peace. The sincerity and intensity of his feelings were clearly delivered in his performance. In seeing his sharp, dark eyes and hearing his emotion filled voice one cannot remain outside his concern. And this is, of course, combined with simple but beautiful music. Although he has recorded a couple of little ditties that I really can ' t make anything out of, he never makes his songs pretentious as the Beatles came to do. In music and in lyrics, his is a clear, honest sound. His upbeat single calling to join the Peace Train has a message of appeal, but most of his songs are of a per- sonal nature, reflections. He is really rather small and fine- boned, but the way his beard and curly hair frame his face gives me the im- pression of a lion. Perched on a stool he alternately hunched over his guitar and threw his shaggy name back. He seemed to put himself back into the emotions he felt at the time of writing songs such as Miles From Nowhere . His voice is rich and at times almost growling. None of his guitar work is complex, but it was apparent that he keeps a tight rein over his back-up musicians. I think I noticed a little grin of delight as his three instrumentalists broke into a crescendo in one of his songs. This build is common to his style. I don ' t really know a lot about him except that he is an Englishman of Greek parentage. He ' s not really the kind of musician one is curious about because in each song he gives his deepest self. He introduced a couple of new songs during the concert. In general his latest songs seem a little less poignant than those in his Tea For the Tillerman album. They are now a little gentler, a little more subtle. Avoiding much talk other than short, introductory explanations, Cat moved from one of three guitars or to the piano with amazing rapidity. Tire audience often applauded at the first line of familiar tunes. The second and third galleries were filled with glowing matches, like candles, near the end of the performance. He finished, or intended to finish, with Father and Son . This song is classic in its simple expression of the constant difference between young man and father. The thunderous, foot- stomping applause of both balconies called Cat back to the stage. It was his first show of possibly his biggest tour to date, but he was quite moved by what I thought was to be expected. Quickly Cat and his group swung into Changes . Heeding the calls, he finished alone on tire piano with the eloquent Sad Lisa . For once I was glad I was at the earlier show of the evening, for I wondered if he could put so much into the later performance. Phil Keddy 12

Page 24 text:

The Drama There was the usual Saturday morning crowd at Rack- straw ' s grocery. It included old Colonel Leatherb arrow, carrying the converted bedroll which he used as a shop- ping basket, Phyllis, and a small man in carpet slippers who was a stranger to me. You look a bit peculiar, said the Colonel over the frozen foods, Are you feeling alright? I ' m thinking about writing a play, I said. Oh, said Phyllis, is that all? I remember a man who shopped here once, used to write tales. Mr. Hepple his name was. You couldn ' t put ' em down once you ' d started. All about Braham the Terrible, they were. Know what he did? Kept on turning himself into things by eat- ing a pill. You don ' t see much of that on stage. You don ' t? No, barked the Colonel, all you get today is those filthy longhairs prancing about in the buff and such- like - disgusting ! One time he turned himself into a timber wolf and tracked a fur bandit to his lair. Made the little woman ' s fie sir creep. Better than all that lovey-dovey stuff. You don ' t want any of that lot. ' Course, said Phyllis, you ' d have to have a wolf skin. Yes, I said, that would be the snag. If you wanted, you could put in a bit of a love inter- est. You could have the heroine trapped in a blazing cabin, fighting off the advances of a rum- crazed half- breed. That ' s right, I said, and the wolf outside scratching at the door. That ' s right, said the Colonel eagerly, and the wolf turns into Braham, and he pulls the girl away in the nick of time, and kicks the halfbreed into the crevice. Alaska Louis his name is. I don ' t know that I ' m very good at half-breed dialogue. I said. Oh, it ' s mostly grunts, said the Colonel. When he fell into the crevice he ' s need only say something like: ' Woof-woof! ' or ' Mon Dieu! ' Yes, I said, I suppose that would be sufficient. You could have a sad bit too, said Phyllis from the canned meats, where someone pinches Braham ' s pills, and he can ' t turn into anything. Then the fellow who ' s pinched them takes one and turns into an ape, and the heroine snatches them and falls into the rapids, and I