The Sad Mag Team. Photography by Rob Seebacher
Sad Mag is taking the holidays easy. Some of our team is flying to California and some of us are retreating to the Fraser Valley for family time. Festive cheer is around us and we raise our (several) glasses to you Vancouver! Sadmag.ca returns full force in 2010. New posts, new content, interviews with Vancouver’s interesting and insights into Issue Three.
Wanna take a look at the brand new Issue two? Download here.
Pick up your jaws, ladies and gentlemen: these dapper fellows sound just as good as they look behind their turntables, not that they are mindful of appearances. Lazerbomb! and DJ Jeff Leppard just want you to party like no one is watching.
Hailing from small towns around B.C., all three men found Vancouver was not quite what they were anticipating. “When youfirst move out here it’s a shock because you’re expecting a lot more; then you get over that and you find out about the secret stuff—[the stuff] that you have to know people in order to find out about,” explains Dan Parker, who comprises Lazerbomb! along with Eric Cairns. “I went to the Morrissey because it was the only decent place to have a drink,” adds Cairns.
The Morrissey is just one of many downtown venues Cairns, Parker, and Jeff Lawrence list when discussing the nightlife they first experienced after arriving in Vancouver. Lawrence, known at the table as Jeff Leppard, talks about his happy discovery of DJ Dickie Doo’s Sunday nights at Shine—an oasis of hip hop that, unlike other queer nights, doesn’t limit their music to traditional disco glam.
This disregard for expectations is the common ground between Leppard and Lazerbomb!, and its the quality that sets them apart from the rest. “I love playing two songs that you would never think would go together: some gangster rap followed by Roy Orbison,” Parker says. Lazerbomb!’s Sunday nights at the Narrow are host to many guest DJs who relish the opportunity to let loose and dust off beloved dormant tunes. “The nights that seem to flourish the most are those where the DJs play everything.” Cairns continues, “We play shit that we think is awesome… but also a variety. There’s no point in limiting yourself to one genre.”
Lazerbomb!’s and Jeff Leppard’s organic sets reflect their transition from party-goers to party–makers. Both Cairns and Parker have been interested in DJing for some time. Cairns often filled the DJ role for friends’ parties and fundraisers, while Parker’s interest piqued when residing in Brighton—England’s DJ capital. After Brighton, Parker found Vancouver to be a difficult scene to break into.
“You gotta be friends with people who throw parties, or throw parties yourself,” says Parker. The DJ scene requires an abundance of energy, a night owl nature, and the ability to party all the time. “You have to show support for everyone else so that they’ll show support for you,” confirms Cairns. The imperative for self-promotion is the one lackluster requirement felt by all three. “I didn’t really promote myself much. You feel dirty,” says Lawrence. “We do it shamelessly now,” laughs Cairns.
Lawrence also experienced some tough times when starting out. “A friend and I thought, ‘Let’s do a fundraiser and we’ll learn to DJ,’ and a lot of people showed up. It was at the Gecko Club, which was the shittiest club that only lasted about six months… We thought it’d be cool but then the interior was covered with lizards.”
Lazerbomb! first fused together when throwing a few back at the Narrow one March. Cairns and Parker, who had been friends for three years, struck up a conversation with some Irish folk and threw around the idea of DJing a St. Patty’s night. “We made some promises that night in an inebriated fashion and then figured we should actually follow through,” says Cairns. They made good on their promise and have been a regular fixture at Narrow since.
Lazerbomb! was also the DJ for Sad Mag’s July 1st fundraiser, during which they completed an eight–hour DJ marathon. “We got shut down to Conga by Gloria Estefan,” says Cairns. “The neighbour even came out on her porch [and commented], ‘You guys were great! Where else do you throw parties?’” adds Parker.
Lawrence now DJs every Friday at Junction and although this upcoming Thursday is his second Sad Mag stint, he is a familiar feature at the Anza Club. Lawrence delves into his love for the Anza Club and the way it forces attendees to commit to the party. “People come to the Anza to party their faces off.” Cairns nods in agreement saying, “It reminds me of a teen dance. You’re there because you’re just having a good time and you don’t care who’s looking. You’re not at a nightclub, so it doesn’t matter since you’re not there for that vibe to begin with.”
This is one secret everyone should be in on. Come check out what Lazerbomb! and DJ Jeff Leppard are bringing to Vancouver’s Eastside at the Anza this Thursday at Sad Mag’s holiday party! Details here.
Lazerbomb! DJs Sunday nights at the Narrow
DJ Jeff Leppard can be found every Friday night at Junction
–Rebecca Slaven for Sad Mag
Rob Taylor. Photograph by Tanya Goehring
Sad Mag launches issue two on December 17. Until then, we’re releasing sneak peeks from the new issue.
“In Ghana, there are many more poets who are just throwing politics at you without apology. Here, if we do that, we apologize a lot or we cloud it with some artifice. There, they’ll just say right in the middle of the poem, ‘and the President is a really lousy guy.’ We don’t get that.”
— Rob Taylor, as told to Deanne Beattie
Winter 2009, ISSUE TWO
Former Victoria resident Zan Comerford defends her hometown from the lashing so eloquently delivered in “Cascadia Defied” by Racan Souiedan, in Sad Mag issue one.
Yes, Vancouver, we know. You’re all grown up now. 
Your music scene is good, and you have dozens of independent art spaces. East Van holds its own in the art world, and the city brims with gorgeous, fit, stylish types on beat up bikes with passions for good espresso.
Vancouver can even claim to possess the one true criterion of any progressive West Coast city: it has more freelance graphic designers / writers / artists than one would care to shake a stick at, all of them drinking lattes in the afternoon with their dogs.
But, c’mon Vancouver, let’s not get cruel. Racan Souiedan’s article “Cascadia Defied” in the Autumn 2009 issue of Sad Mag would have us believe that there is hardly another Canadian city that comes close to your brilliance.
Victoria may be small, awkward and kind of annoying. Sure, it’s the runt of the litter, but as a city, it has something to offer too. It offers you things that none of its littermates can—only the best of those things that make life worth living: dating, art, and partying.
Let’s start where it all starts, really: sex. Victoria’s dating pool is the Don Perignon of getting it on. With a liberal university, hundreds of hospitality jobs, and thriving art and music scenes, Victoria is a destination for attractive, educated, and artistic twenty-somethings. And it gets better. Because of a phenomenon commonly known by Islanders as “The Velvet Rut,” Victoria is so comfortable that all of these eligible beauties stick around long enough to give everyone—and I mean everyone—a shot. Long known as “The Land of Ladies,” Victoria boasts three women to every man. Beyond doing wonders for one’s odds from a merely statistical standpoint, it also does wonders for your chances of “Nailing a Ten!” as they say on the street.
Strolling hand-in-hand with a good dating scene is, of course, a good nightlife. Victoria has more restaurants, pubs and bars per capita than New York, not to mention a handful of organic microbreweries that give Red Truck a run for its money.
Victoria’s music scene is longstanding, and contrary to Mr. Souiedan’s article, the well-worn music scene makes the local shows anything but boring. From grungy basement bars to scenester havens, Victoria’s music venues are attuned to exactly what makes the Island lifestyle so attractive: good beer, and good friends. Walking into a local show is to see arms thrown around shoulders, as 250 of the band’s closest friends belt out the songs to lyrics they never get tired of hearing.
Should big name acts forge the treacherous Strait of Georgia (which they do with surprising regularity) they are delighted to find a young, willing and eager audience that get just enough entertainment to keep them ravenous for a good time. Audiences rather satiated from regular snacking on live shows are tougher, blander crowds in larger metropolitan cities.
Victoria’s enthusiasm means we can hold our own among the big boys of Vancouver, Portland and Seattle in terms of art and culture. The very quality that finds Victoria being compared to these cultural havens is exactly what sets it apart.
Victoria isn’t trying to be something it’s not.
Instead of lining up to see expensive international film festivals, Victorians flock to abandoned warehouses, where guys with dreadlocks are stringing up a stolen projector. Instead of art openings with wine, cheese and pretension, groups like Panikon Deima are setting up guerrilla art installations in the creakiest fire escapes and oldest alleys in the city.
Above all, Victoria isn’t trying to compete with Vancouver, doesn’t want to be like Portland, and couldn’t care less just what Seattle would say about its coffee (as delicious and well crafted as it may be).
Victoria is too busy doing just what its inhabitants have always been doing: hanging out, relaxing, and enjoying itself.
— Zan Comerford
We had the pleasure of inviting filmmaker Jocelyne Chaput to contribute to Sad Mag. She came up with a dreamy short film about the anticipation of Issue Two. Featuring music by ok vancouver ok. Check out their Myspace here.
We won’t have egg nog.….
Getting together for the Holidays is Naughty and Nice. Lola Frost and Villany Loveless will entertain you!
However we will be combining Burlesque forces, Season Greetings and Publishing Magic to give you a treat! Vancouver’s burlesque sister act, Lola Frost and Villany Loveless will reveal more than some Yuletide Joy on December 17th at our favourite, The Anza Club. Cover is cheap! The Beer is good (sponsored by Phillips Brewery), the spirits are high, and the buzz is around us. Join us for the exclusive look at Issue two and have a fun evening with the Sad Mag Family.
Details on Facebook, RSVP!
Call her prOphecy not Prophecy. Photograph by Julie Jones
Sad Mag launches issue two on December 17. Until then, we’re releasing sneak peeks from the new issue.
It’s okay with prOphecy sun if you’re a little frightened by her music. Her creations can be uncomfortable, difficult, at times discordant and “not always pretty.” But that’s exactly the point: “If I’m not going there and challenging myself,” she explains, “I might as well stop, because it’s not really authentic.”
— Michelle Reid
Winter 2009, ISSUE TWO
The most Glamorous Barf. Illustration by Justin Longoz
Sad Mag launches issue two on December 17. Until then, we’re releasing sneak peeks from the new issue.
If you have to get the flu, H1N1 is the strain to get. Not only is it no more dangerous than the regular sick-day flu, but you also get to have the most fashionable virus around. Swine Flu is pretty much the American Apparel of things that give you diarrhea.
— Graham Templeton
Winter 2009, ISSUE TWO
Sad Mag launches issue two on December 17. Until then, we’re releasing sneak peeks from the new issue.
“Vancouver has this standoffishness that can be cliquey—people are aspirational but protective of what they’ve got,” notes Caleb, “I find that attitude is really easily disarmed by just going ‘Hey, what’s up? Why are you being weird to me … we could probably do something fun together.’”
— Caleb Beyers, As told to Shaun Inouye and Lindsay Wiens
Winter 2009, ISSUE TWO
One of the many new Skytrain stops along Cambie. Photograph by Eric Thompson
Sad Mag launches issue two on December 17. Until then, we’re releasing sneak peeks from the new issue.
When I moved into Cambie Village, which is roughly bookended by Broadway and King Edward Avenue, there were a disillusioning number of empty storefronts with “For Lease” signs in the windows and orange pylons were a semi-permanent fixture along the roads and sidewalks. One of my favourite used bookstores, Kestrel Books, was mere months away from relocating to Kitsilano and much of their stock was reduced for clearance. I scoured the shelves with a mild sense of guilt about the fact that by acquiring these books at a fraction of their cost, I was losing something more important.
—Melissa Sawatsky
Winter 2009, ISSUE TWO