Like most human beings, I list Vanilla Ice, aka Rob Van Winkle, as the greatest musician of all time. With hits like “Ice Ice Baby” and… uh…uh… that other one he is well known for, it is hard to deny V-I his rightful place in the history books as one of the greats. Adding the monumental cinematic masterpiece “Cool as Ice” to his resume brought Mr. Ice to a level of fame that extended even to unborn children and the deceased. Like everyone else, “Ice Ice Baby” played, and still plays in my head as the most beautiful soundtrack to life a man could ever have. The song is so relatable that it fits seamlessly into our lives to make the most out of any occasion or emotion. And for me, through a series of fortunate events, I get to take this a step further.

Sometime back in the mid to late-nineties, between learning Nirvana riffs and denying my secret love affair with “Dawson’s Creek”, my good friend and band-mate at the time, Allan J. MacDonald, came to my house with astonishingly incredible news. His sister had actually got to see Vanilla Ice in concert! In real life! ‘Magine that… Vanilla Ice in the flesh!!! I could barely believe it. My mind was buzzing like a thousand dial-up modems in unison. I felt like I was standing in the presence of royalty, being beside a guy whose sister saw live THE greatest musician our planet has EVER offered. But, it wasn’t done there. Allan J., my good friend, the man who stood strong beside me in such bands you’ve never heard of as ‘Hailstone’ and ‘Shed’, told me that at that show, when Mr. Ice had finished his encore, that the drummer came to the front of the stage and threw his sticks into the audience. AND, what then became the second most amazing thing I’ve ever heard up until this point in my life (I’ll tell you about the greatest thing that ever happened to me another time)… his sister caught one of the sticks!!!! I would not have been more amazed if current Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Cover Model, Tyra Banks, had said yes to the letter I wrote her asking her to prom. I couldn’t believe it, I was hyperventilating. “Di… di…did…yo…you….you… se…see… the sti…stick!?!?!?” I stuttered. He then reached into his school-bag and pulled out the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen: Vanilla Ice’s Drummer’s Drumstick. The stick was glowing like a light-saber, I could feel the essence of Vanilla floating through the room; Rob Van Winkle was ‘IN DA HOUSE’… and in this case ‘DA’ was ‘MY’ house!!!! I could barely contain myself, I could barely function; I was in the presence of greatness, that stick had hit the UP BEAT of Ice Ice Baby during a live performance, that stick was partially responsible for bringing to life THE GREATEST SONG IN THE HISTORY OF TIME! I could have had Tyra Banks AND Heidi Klum with me at prom and I couldn’t have been any happier. We felt like kings, we pranced around Inverness like we were invincible, like the only thing our hearts pumped into our blood was pure serotonin; we knew the stick would take care of us, we knew only good things would happen. And at the end of it all, when life couldn’t get any better and the pinnacle of happiness had been reached and surpassed, Allen J. handed the stick over to me and said, “It’s yours”. I looked at him; my friend, my band-mate, one of the greatest guys I’ve ever met, no words could describe the significance of the moment, of what it meant to me. “I’ll take good care of her,” I told him. And that was that, the stick was in my hands, the power of all the 90’s, of neon and high-tops, parachute pants, gold-chains, Jennifer Love Hewitt, grunge music, Saved by the Bell, Forrest Gump, Playstation 1’s, Pogs, Pokemon and Stone Cold Stunners had been granted solely to me. And I liked it.

That stick became a pivotal part of my existence. It’s been with me through the good times and the bad, it’s always there to say “Hey Kid, not every fella out there’s lucky enough to have a little piece of Robbie Van Winkle this close to ‘em, keep your head up!” and put a smile on my face. If I ever have a kid, that child will constantly be competing for my love against that stick, if I’m ever married and my wife touches that stick she’ll be an ex-wife in a hurry. Like the stick said, not every man is lucky enough to have a piece of Mr. Ice with them at all times, and that’s true, but neither is every man lucky enough to have a friend as good as Allan J. MacDonald to give them a little piece of history, a little piece of Vanilla Ice.

Also, the stick is for sale for…10 bucks if anyone’s interested…

Here’s what the stick looks like!

Here’s what I look like when I have the stick! Happy!

The Stick staying fit and havin fun!

6 flights and 17 million miles on trains (approximately) later and here we are; a couple of Cape Bretoners who’ve amassed a vast knowledge of a random Scandinavian country. To sum up everything about our 2-week Finnish tour in a thousand words or so would be almost impossible as picking your favorite Spice Girl or flavor or chips – it can’t be done. We saw and experienced more than we could have imagined and met people we’ll call friends for the rest of our lives. Every show in each of the 10 cities we played was a surreal experience with amazing music loving crowds, exceptionally friendly bar staff (if we drank every beer given to us we’d surely have missed our flight back and be in a Russian Detention Center scrubbing mold of Lenin era army Tanks) and some of the best house soundmen we’ve ever encountered. Instead of telling a story of any sort, I’ll just list some random facts we discovered, feelings we experienced and an anecdote or two… if that’s a’ight. Here we go:

Every day we were there we walked from our hotel to the train-station to travel to a new city. We logically made sure our backpacks weighed as much as possible, jammed with everything a Canuck needs to survive two weeks in a foreign land, our shoulders faltering, our hands filled with guitars, snares, pedals and whatever else… walk a few miles every day, have strong hands by the time we’re back in Canada, or, just need massages… trek through the snow, the architecture immaculate, the glow and energy of new cities in a foreign land guiding our steps… heated sidewalks… Christmas lights brighter than anywhere you’ve ever seen, Hockey is king, blonde hair, everyone beautiful… get on train, pile gear on lap… Chug, chug, chug, train hits 206Km/hr! That’s pretty cool, better cheer aloud… train stops, another new city, endless possibilities… it’s dark and grey and the sun doesn’t shine but it’s alright because you’re glimmering from the fervor of everything around you, the unknown… Smoked reindeer meat, the hung-over guy who asked us – “Who is the greatest rocker in the world?” and then rolled up his sleeve to reveal a KID ROCK tattoo, everyone buying CDs, interviews, the amazing studio out on the island, the old cougar trying to steal booze from our mini-bar, getting destroyed in a ball hockey game, Bruce’s Champagne Birthday, saunas and encores, looking out into the crowd and realizing – “Holy shit… we’re in Finland!”, announcing the awards for the girls roller derby team, the guy who made all the sound-effects like Motor-mouth in Police Academy, and most importantly, Karhu beer.

The only noticeable differences between Finland and Canada are: 1. There’s no bacon, 2. They don’t cut their pizza, 3. Public bathrooms cost (this does not bode well for a man with IBS) and have bedays(I think they’re called bedays… something like that), 4. Milk is dirt cheap (literally cheaper than water), and 5. For some reason, aged American astronaut, Buzz Aldrin, is a huge celebrity there.

For the first time in the history of the universe Cape Breton accents were deemed “Sexy”, we discovered that Mexican food is the national food of Finland, even the ugly girls are pretty, and there appears to be no rules to where a person can and can’t drive. You’ll be sitting on a bench in a quiet park and all of a sudden a station wagon will appear out of a vortex and drive by you on a narrow dirt path. Also, push or pull doors are a gamble in Finland. In theory, a fella should be about 50/50 with their push or pull decision at a door, but we were push/pullin’ on about a 95% fail rate. We got the greatest introduction of all time (20 minutes long with the only English words being ‘THE TOWN HEROES!’ and coudln’t have made us sound any more like we were two galdiators about to fight) from a cool Finnish dude who liked us so much he kissed us both on the stage before our encore. It was kind of weird, but he used to be married to Miss Finland, so… we basically kissed Miss Finland!

We met a Sound guy that used to tour around Russia and told us a pile of amazing stories about his drinking escapes with an insane Soviet Commander named Boris who shot his 80 year old house-keeper with nerve gas to prove its effectiveness, knocking her unconscious and spilling the potatoes she was carrying all over the floor. He also mentioned the time they threw a lamb (that was to be cooked) out of a helicopter because it was too cute to shoot up close.

And 6000km from home in a place called Hameenlinna, half way through our set, our energy and the energy of the crowd growing in unison, feeding off each other like a chorus of mutual parasites and generous hosts giving and taking all we can, someone in the thick of crowd yells out, “Play Hit Potential!”. And at that moment, getting a request for a song we wrote, in a country we’ve never been to, in a city we’ve never heard of where people’s first language isn’t even English, was as extraordinary as anything you could ever feel. Our music crossed the sea before we even got there, filled the ears of strangers, brought them out to our show, and they stood there and yelled out 3 simple words that meant as much to us as anything ever possibly could. Adrenaline pumped in our blood, the music rushed through us; amps blasting loudly in our ears stealing frequencies we’ll never get back but entirely worth it; the thud of the kick drum shook our chests beautifully, 80 hertz – rattling our bones, as close to thunder as we’ll ever be… “Holy shit…we’re in Finland!”

We met the guy who yelled for the song after the show. Him, along with his friends, were some of the nicest people we’ve ever met, as good as any you’ll ever encounter on this planet. And he told us that we inspired him, that he wanted to do what we do and be on stage. He said that he could see our passion and that he actually started to tear up during our set because he could see how much we loved what we were doing. We might not be the biggest band in the world, or even in our own province or city, but if we can have that kind of effect on someone 6000km from home, then that makes it worth it. It makes everything you’ve ever done to be a musician justified. And when that happens, when you make another human feel something, an emotion powerful enough to make them warm up inside and shed tears, then you’re as big as any band is; every sacrifice you’ve ever made is worth it, every peanut butter and jam sandwich you ate instead of a steak to save money for sticks and strings is right. You might not be rich and famous or even able to afford a jumbo hotdog at the hockey game, but you made someone else out there feel a little more alive, and really, isn’t that all that truly matters? You still might just be a couple guys from little towns in Cape Breton trying to make a go at it, but at least you’re out there, at least you’re getting some mud on your shoes.

So that’s a little blurb about our escapades in Finland. Like I said, impossible to capture it all in a few paragraphs. Hopefully some of what we experienced was justifiably able to transcribe into word.

Thanks to Harri and everyone at the Nem Agency, you guys are as professional as it gets. Thanks to Timo, the greatest tour guide alive, Music Nova Scotia and the Export Development Program (www.musicnovascotia.ca- check ‘em out, join, it’s like having a crew of best friends who know everything about the music industry and want to fill your ears with all the knowledge you need). And most importantly, thanks to all the Finns who we met and came to our shows. You guys are amazing, friendly, and supportive people.

All the best in 2013. We have lots of big plans; new album, lots of videos, tours and the works. Thanks for all the support along the way. Much love,
TTH

Here’s what we looked like in Finland

All of our shows in Finland were played in Black and White

This project is supported by funding from the Nova Scotia Department of Culture, Communities and Heritage through the Music Nova Scotia (MUSIC NOVA SCOTIA) under its Export Development Program for Music.

Hey Pals,
We’ll be heading off to Finland on November 19th for a 2-week tour around the country. We’re incredibly excited and can’t wait to see what will happen. We decided to look up a little information and divulge a tad bit of history about the country we’ll be spending some time in. So, without further ado (whatever that really means), here’s a brief history of Finland:

Finland is a country located in Northern Europe with a population of about 5.5 million Finnish People. The capital and largest city is Helsinki, while the country is bordered by Sweden in the west, Norway in the north and Russia in the east. With the best educational system in Europe according to some measures, Finland has recently been ranked as one of the world’s most peaceful, competitive and livable countries. That’s pretty cool, eh?

Finland is governed by President Teemu Selanne who earned this position after scoring 76 goals in his rookie season with the Winnipeg Jets in 1993. The biggest exports from Finland are NHL players, attractive blonde girls and snow. The average temperature in Finland during the winter is Absolute Zero (−273.15° Celsius) and the only Finnish word incorporated into the English Language is “Sauna”. Many North Americans often include “Sauna” on their annual list of favorite words to say. In Finland, when a person sees a shooting star, they are often prone to make a wish upon it. Statistically, those wishes come true 86% of the time. The last crime committed in Finland was in 1982 and Russian Prince Vodka is created in, and the pride of Finland.

Some fun facts about Finland:
-It has the lowest stillbirth rate out of 193 countries, including the UK, France and New Zealand (for reals!).
-Finnish people can throw Javelins really far.
-The 1952 Summer Olympics were hosted by Finland in Helsinki (they were supposed to host in 1940 but a lil’ thing called World War Two happened)
- Apocolyptica, originally an all Cello Metallica tribute band was established in Helsinki and sold over 4 million records to date.
- There are 1.52 million broadband Internet connections in Finland. In July 2010, President Selanne committed to ensuring that every person in Finland would be able to access the internet at a minimum speed of one megabit-per-second.
- If every single one of the 5.5 million Finns wanted to chill in a Sauna at the same time, there are apparently enough in the country to hold each one of them!

Well, that’s about it. I’m sure we’ll learn a lot more while we’re over there. We’re excited to meet new people, see amazing cities and get the chance to play our music in a different part of the world. If anyone knows anyone in Finland, tell them to come out and catch a show. All the best,
Mike and Bruce

What the Finns have been comparing us to:

Predators on the Prowl: The Town Heroes are let loose in Finland

One of The Town Heroes biggest Finnish fans, Ice Skating Champion, Kiira Korpi.

Town Heroes Fan, Kiira Korpi

As a proud born and bred Cape Bretoner, I’ve always been an advocate for growth and progress on our Island. 2012 saw the opening of the long-awaited world class golf course Cabot Links in my hometown of Inverness. The Scottish style “Links” course has drawn the attention of golfers worldwide and has helped instill an energy back into the community.

The song ‘Slag Heaps’ was written 3 years ago during the construction of the course. It highlights the pre- Cabot Inverness: a small, post-industrial mining town in Cape Breton, past its heyday and struggling to keep a fleeting population intact. Rolling grey hills known as ‘Slag Heaps’, the remnants of the once prosperous coalmines, cover miles and miles of the towns oceanfront while, unfortunately, serving as a constant reminder that the town is in its downfall. These same hills are also the potential location of a world-class golf course that the town has lobbied for over the last 15 years. With various setbacks and challenges along the way, hope for the course and the jobs that would come with it have almost all but disappeared and become nothing more than the pipe dreams of a few ambitious townsfolk and businessmen. The town (it’s actually a village, but we don’t like to admit that) needs to see progress to actually believe it will happen. This progress is represented by actual machines working on the land to develop the golf course, erasing the discouraging slag heaps, and bringing people, jobs and life back to the town.

As the machines and golf-course architects eventually arrive in Inverness to “break the ground”, a positive feel is echoed in the outro of the song. “Maybe I’ll come home”, repeats as the song fades, bringing an optimistic end to the composition, and hinting at the fact that maybe people of the small town have reason to come back – which now, after seeing the beneficial results of Cabot Links and the positive effect on our community, I think we all have a reason to come home.


Slag Heaps has been nominated by Music Nova Scotia for “Video of the Year” 2012 and was directed by Dillon Garland. The Video itself is an over the top, violent caricature of various “torture movies” that have thrust their way into the mainstream as of late. Metaphorically, it represents the decline, death and rebirth of a town.

It’s that time of year again – we survived the winter, the leaves are budding, the fisherman’s traps hauling in delicious, juicy lobsters, there’s a beautiful optimism and anticipation for the upcoming months floating almost visibly in the air, and, so far, the summer heat hasn’t yet rendered us useless and only capable of sitting on beaches drinking cold beer and sucking in our guts….. In other words, this is Ball Hockey Season. Many a day as young, adventurous Cape Breton ragamuffins was spent on streets and courts shooting the hardest substance known to man, HARD ORANGE BALLS, at brave goalies. It’s a beautiful time of year- not too hot, not too cold and the hockey playoffs have everyone in the mood to work off the winter bellies and hit the streets for some Ball Hockey action.

Now, the reason why I’m rambling on here about a sport for washed up athletes and poor kids is pretty simple: We want to put a little challenge out there: BLUE RODEO, we want you.

BLUE RODEO struts around like they’re the king shits of the Ball Hockey world. Jim Cuddy has been quoted as saying: “I am by far the best player to ever step foot on this earth. If Wayne Gretzky, Sidney Crosby and Bobby Orr were to have a love child… that child would be my left leg. The rest of my body would be comprised of futuristic impermeable metals and steels, my reflexes controlled by advanced algorithms too sophisticated for other humans to comprehend and my heart powered by the beating surge of humanity’s will.”

Yeah yeah yeah Jim….. So you wrote “Hasn’t Hit Me” and maybe I cry like a small child and uncontrollably hug the nearest person to me every time I hear it, but, so what? Greg Keelor, your father might be partners with Bruce’s mom at the local Crib tourneys, but that’s where our friendship ends.

You BLUE RODEO fellas don’t know what you’re dealing with here. Bruce once took a slapshot in the throat by New York Islanders defenceman Andrew MacDonald in his pre-NHL days and just laughed, I played an entire game using a Deer Heart as a ball. I really did! I wish I didn’t… I’ve had nightmares about it ever since. By the end of the game the whole crew of us looked like a bunch of 12 year olds coming back from Vimy Ridge, bloody head to toe, our mothers surely aghast. I’ve never seen something so disgusting…. Anyways, what animal organs have you used as a substitute for a ball, BLUE RODEO? None I take it. What is it, ya scared of a little Moose Liver or Partridge Appendix? If you were real ball hockey players you’d have at least stick-handled some Rabbit Lungs or shot a Bear Kidney top shelf.

The thing is, BLUE RODEO, that while you’re sitting at home in your mansions being fed rare grapes by young Brazilian models and forcing them to repeatedly sing “Bad Timing” to you in Portuguese, we’ve been working on our skillzz (And yes, the nonchalant usage of a double “Z” clearly emphasises our youth and hip nature in modern society). We’ve watched the Mighty Ducks Trilogy so many times that our blood runs thick with the incomparable knowledge of the legendary Gordon Bombay (As portrayed beautifully on the silver screen by Emilio Estevez).

So, here it goes: Two on two (you guys can pick whichever two you want, or even rotate in, for that matter), trash can nets, up to 11, win by 2. You guys pick the time and place and we’ll be there… well, unless it will cost a lot to travel, in that case, you rich pricks can meet us somewhere. Loser buys lunch.

That’s it. The Town Heroes vs. BLUE RODEO… good vs. evil in a battle that will surely alter the flow of the current world we live in.

To end this, I’ll leave you now with another Jim Cuddy quote: “I feel that the human race is far inferior to all that I am. My astonishing good looks, overwhelming talent in all areas of life and extraordinary levels of intelligence have left me exclusively alone at the top of the pack. Sometimes I am embarrassed to say I am human because of the downfalls and disappointments of all those below me. I feel that I exist at the top, much like God himself, but in the flesh… so kinda like Jesus… well, I guess a LOT like Jesus….. I am basically Jesus.”

Well, that about does it. The challenge is out there, it’s up to BLUE RODEO to man up and see if they’ll take it.

Just remember fellas… this is what you’re up against.