Buckle up your seat belts, b'ys[
1]! This -- my 3rd Great Big Sea show, and my 2nd Great Big Sea review -- is another long yarn from Anna the Piper.
Now, no journal of mine would really be complete without a little bit of backstory, and this one's no exception. To start off with, ever since my
last GBS show at the Showbox this past St. Paddy's Day, I'd been bound and determined to see them again this year on the grounds that poor Sean McCann was ill for that performance, and I sorely missed getting to hear all of the songs that he performs.
The problem was, their
next scheduled appearance in Seattle was Bumbershoot on 9/2 -- which was right smack in the middle of my own planned trip to Philadelphia for the science fiction convention Worldcon. MUCH to my consternation. Henceforth I vowed to go and ogle the B'ys[
4] in Vancouver, to make up for missing them on my own home turf.
Now, most of August, mind you, I spent in anticipation of going to ogle
30 Odd Foot of Grunts in Portland, but I was assured that once I got that out of my system and got through Worldcon, I'd be in full blast anticipation mode for Great Big Sea and I was right. Especially after getting home from Philly to hear from my friends who had attended the Bumbershoot show the story of the Great Big Gitch Toss[
2]
and that they'd also had the delightful pleasure of conversing with both Alan
and Darrell after the show. Even if the evil wenches had mentioned certain sonnets penned by certain pipers, but ahem, well, er, we won't go into that here. ;)
In the meantime, I'd also had the pleasure of introducing one of my online friends to Great Big Sea. Mary since then not only joined us on the Online Kitchen Party, not only attended three shows on her own (and sent me a lovely set of photographs from said shows), but even came out across the entire country for the express purpose of meeting me and mine, and going up to Vancouver with us for the watching of, dancing before, and singing along with our favorite Newfoundlanders.
(As I write this, safely returned from our trip north across the border, Mary has retired to bed upstairs. But said for me to tell everyone hello and that she did in fact make it safely to the Murkworks, western bastion of Great Big Sea fandom!)
We all wound up having a bit of shuffling about of who exactly the Vancouver-bound amongst us would be. I'd purchased five tickets, and originally our expected party would be myself, my wife Dara, our housemate and fellow jammer Paul, our fellow jammer Kathryn, and Mary. Kathryn's mate Erik waffled some about whether to come with us, but finally waffled into the neighborhood of 'no'. Paul came down with a cold as we got back from Worldcon, and so his ticket was shunted over into the custody of Mimi, who'd already gone to the Bumbershoot show but who decided she was up for another one (yay Mimi!).
Since this was intended to be a one-day trip, so that we could in fact get back here in time to jam the next day, we pretty much expected we'd zip right up to Vancouver, find the park, find the show, find some post-show dinner, then zip right back home again. We even cleverly planned to bring cell phones with us, on the grounds that since there were going to be two vehicles, we didn't want to get out of communication with one another.
This isn't quite the way it worked out, however, as is generally always the case with these things. A whole host of little things added up to give the day a considerable amount more adventure than we'd planned!
Adventure #1: While I was busy filling the car with gas not far from our house, Dara, Mimi, and Mary went to the bank nearby to get some American money exchanged for Canadian so we'd have money for lunch and dinner. This apparently broke the brain of the poor soul they asked about this, though, who apparently had to go get someone else to help them out. It turned out the bank only had fifties and fives in Canadian currency, so we got a couple hundred bucks in Canadian money between us.
Adventure #2: Those in my vehicle, Dara and Mary and I, got on the road pretty much fine. The trip north was uneventful; customs was a breeze, as we pretty much announced, "We're going to a Great Big Sea show!" And the lady waved us right on through. Our directions from Mapquest.com into Vancouver were even on target, though we had some leeriness amongst us as to their validity. But on the whole we got to Stanley Park without incident. Only to realize as we got there that there is a WHOLE HECK OF A LOT OF STANLEY PARK, and furthermore, we had no idea as to what section of it would actually contain Newfoundlanders committing acts of music. So we spent a good deal of time driving around the park looking for a place to park as well as some sign of a location that looked concert-sized. Finally we did find a place to leave the car, and we got out with the plan of going back to a pavilion-type place we'd passed to ask for directions. As we did this I got the bright idea to actually look at our tickets and see if they had information more specific than "Stanley Park", which they did, which was "Malkin Bowl". So as we spotted a park trolley going by, we asked the driver if he went to Malkin Bowl. He said he did, but that it was thirty minutes away by his schedule. We asked him how far away it was on foot, and that was also thirty minutes, according to him. But we decided to get on anyway. Only to have him stop at pretty much the next intersection of roads, point off to the left, and tell us that Malkin Bowl was ten minutes on foot that way. He wasn't scheduled to make a stop there, but he was very kind and let us off right past the intersection anyway.
So we got off pretty much immediately after we got on, and left him a five-buck tip as that was definitely five bucks' worth of helpful.
Adventure #3: During a good portion of Adventure #2, Dara, as our Keeper of the Cell Phone, had been having the phone go off at fairly frequent intervals. She didn't recognize the number it was reporting, though, as it was showing a 604 area code, which bears absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to area codes known to mortal denizens of Seattle. Moreover, every time she tried to actually answer the phone, she wasn't able to hear anyone on the other end.
We had equally lousy luck trying to call Kathryn's phone, which kept resulting in Dara being informed it was out of range.
We did get to Malkin Bowl with no trouble and found where the show was to be, but we were getting worried about how Kathryn and Mimi would find us and whether they would in fact do so before the show started. Finally, though, we managed to touch bases and they caught up with us, tired and hungry and cranky and in desperate need of sustenance.
Interlude, with Music: Fed, united, we settled down relievedly in the concert area. Only to split up again, as Mary and Mimi had gone in first to try to scarf us a place while Kathryn got food. Mary was able to find us a place to leave our blanket, which she guarded until we arrived, but both she and Mimi wanted to be closer to the stage. Dara was fighting off the same cold that had grabbed Paul, so she pretty much wanted to take it easy on the blanket; Kathryn, too, wanted a home base. So they opted to stay with the blanket and guard stuff, while Mimi and Mary and I went in closer.
We didn't manage to catch all of the opening act, but what we saw of them, the Street Prophets, was pretty enjoyable. Kathryn and Dara yakked at one another about having heard them being billed as a ska band; me, I just mostly noted that they had a good lead singer who also played lead guitar, and two guys on saxophones, one alto, one baritone. They also had a bass player, a drummer, and a DJ in the back. Young guys all, laid back and amusingly funny. The sax players I found particularly charming as they had a way of bouncing in unison to the beat, and one of them had on a pretty stylin' red jacket and black shades. They even all cracked jokes about knowing we were impatient for Great Big Sea to come out, and the guy with the bari sax quipped, "That's who
we're here to see!"
After they were done we didn't get the B'ys immediately, though. Since the whole point of the events of the day was Canada's National Backcountry Awareness Day, between the two musical acts the event organizers took the time to hand out an (evidently pretty significantly) important award to a (evidently pretty darned) famous personage in the whole arena of mountaineering. The gentleman in question was not actually present, but his son was on hand and accepted the award on his behalf; also, the audience was told about the gentleman the award was named after, who'd apparently died in an accident. His widow was present, too, and the audience was invited to give her a round of applause to show its appreciation.
Now, I have to admit as I write this that it was just a touch strange to be an American in this particular audience, since even though there was a great deal of good feeling in the crowd and warm glowing pride in the loveliness of Canada's environment --
which, mind you, I have to note is absolutely well-deserved, at least from what I saw of Vancouver today, which was
stunningly gorgeous and shining under the beautiful weather of the day -- I felt a bit like I'd walked in on a party I knew absolutely nothing about. But I did also note that the gentleman for whom the award handed out was named was, in fact, a transplanted American who had apparently chosen to make Canada his home and who was described as having a great passion for his adoptive country.
In that respect, I have to say that I was impressed; it has certainly given me a sense that the folks north of the border seem to be very warm-hearted and absolutely willing to welcome in those from other places as their own. And if they go and do something wonderful, to then go and name awards after them. Overall, hearing that part of the speech helped give me a sense of connection to the overall doings that I don't think I'd otherwise have had, and it was all, in general, very cool.
I kept just a touch of awareness of the strangeness of being an American seeing Great Big Sea on Canadian soil when they did finally come out, to the by-now-familiar strains of "Donkey Riding". Mimi told me after the show that she felt it was the best show of theirs she'd seen so far and she attributed it to them performing for a (predominantly) Canadian audience. Which was odd to me -- because at least initially, the B'ys parsed as more
laid back than usual, at least for the early half of the show!
But thinking about it, looking back, I think I agree with Mimi. Alan said very admiring things about Vancouver, describing how they'd come into Vancouver to play their first gig there, and as they drove in at about 6 in the morning, he'd thought that the locale was
such a cool place to put a city. And that he was saying this as someone
from a cool city. Someone in the audience at that point yelled out something that I think was "Petty Harbor", though I couldn't hear them clearly; Alan, however, did nod in acknowledgement.
Still, though, American or Canadian, there is a big sense of camaraderie in a Great Big Sea crowd. Especially on Canadian soil. Those of us who surged up towards the stage in anticipation of the B'ys coming out were all there with one purpose in mind, and it was quite apparent. Because
everybody there was singing, and although I could frequently hear myself as I sang along, there was a great deal of singing around me all throughout the show, even when Alan wasn't prompting us.
Mimi, Mary and I were more or less Stage Alan, though there were a few folks in front of us and a couple who edged in between Mimi and Mary and me by the end. But really, I didn't mind too terribly much. Because I had a very fine view, and heck, I frequently looked down anyway as I scribbled down song titles to make sure I had the set list right!
But just to provide a bit of evidence of our fine view, the What the B'ys Were Wearing and Other Related Details Report:
- Darrell: All black. Long sleeves and jeans. As another poster to the OKP has observed, he looked awfully sunburned as well.
- Alan: Black jeans, orange shirt with short sleeves, black shirt that was probably a t-shirt under it? His usual pendant. He does, yes indeed, look leaner these days. And blonder, too. Somebody's been highlighting his hair. Or else spending a lot of time out in the sun. ;)
- Séan: All blue. Blue jeans, and a short-sleeved light blue shirt.
- Bob: Black jeans, and the same black bowling shirt with the fireballs that he'd worn at the Showbox on St. Paddy's Day. I made an especial note of checking Bob's shirt, ever since I realized that he and Garth Adams of 30 Odd Foot of Grunts seem to share an affection for black shirts with fire decorations. ;) Bob's hair is looking spikier these days, too. I'm personally hoping he'll consider growing it longer again!
And this is the Set List, as faithfully transcribed by yours truly. I noticed that it was pretty much almost the same list of songs as performed on
Road Rage, with a couple of tweaks to accommodate the new stuff:
- Donkey Riding
- Billy Peddle
- When I'm Up
- Goin' Up
- Boston and St. John's
- The Night Pat Murphy Died
- Sea of No Cares
- Everything Shines
- Old Black Rum
- General Taylor
- Lukey
- Feel It Turn
- Consequence Free
- I'm a Rover
- Fast as I Can
- Jack Hinks
- Mari Mac
- Ordinary Day
- Excursion Around the Bay
- Feller from Fortune
- Rant and Roar
- End of the World
Other things of note:
- Throughout the show, I made a point of trying to pay attention to who had what instruments when. Alan alternated between guitar (and in fact seemed to have a couple of guitars he switched off between) and bouzouki, and this answered the question for me of what songs have bouzouki on them versus mandolin -- at least, if the assumption that the instrumentation is consistent between live shows and studio cuts, an assumption I am not sure yet that I can make. Sean did guitar, bodhran, and shakers, and I noticed once that he in fact changed from the bodhran to the shakers in the middle of a song. Bob was fiddle and whistle and accordion and an instrument I'm pretty sure at this point is a mandola. I've seen pictures of him with it before, the instrument which has a body shape similar to my mandolin but which has, if I can make it out correctly from the distance of an audience, a longer neck. This specific instrument seems to have its sound hole taped over as well.
- For those of you who regularly observe the Bob Effect[3], I noticed at least once that this phenomenon is still alive and kicking, for during one Bob solo, not one, not two, but ALL THREE OF THE OTHER B'YS were pulled across the stage toward him as he played! ;)
- Alan cracked a joke about playing their songs, new songs, old songs, other people's songs, random requests, pretty much anything. I forget which song's intro had the joke about the B'ys not knowing where to go in Vancouver and the audience being invited to come with them, however!
- This rendition of "When I'm Up" seemed a bit slower than I'm used to, but that was all fine. We all sang along anyway!
- Séan's mangling of the first chorus of "Paddy Murphy", this time, was "ALLLL THE PEOPLE IN THE PARK GOT LOADED DRUNK!"
- Alan, in the lengthy introduction to "Sea of No Cares" told us all they were almost done with the new album, and that the ballpark release date for it was just after Christmas (which means, as a side note, that I MAY GET NEW GREAT BIG SEA FOR MY BIRTHDAY IN JANUARY HURRAY!), and that they were trying out a new song off of it as a test run. That we, the audience, may be the making or breaking of this song. The victims of a horrible experiment... or the fortunate few who heard it first! (The verdict: nice ditty, that! Alan tried to get us to sing along with him, but this was the first time I'd heard it, so I couldn't accommodate him nearly as much as I would have liked. ;) )
- "Everything Shines" seemed awfully darned appropriate for the gorgeous weather with which we were favored for this show! Because really, it was the sort of sunshine that does, in fact, make everything shine.
- The introduction to "Old Black Rum" involving Alan telling us all about a drink in Denmark he's fairly convinced is a trick they play on the tourists, and how he didn't much care for the drink in question, which was called gammeldansk. Séan chimed in that he rather liked it. Alan then proceeded to inform us that they had a similar drink in Newfoundland, and well, BEWARE THE OLD BLACK RUM!
- We got the extra verse on "General Taylor" -- and, might I add, Séan was in particularly fine melodic form. I sang on all the responses, but shut up when he sang the calls, just so I could hear him. Because WOW. Especially on the final "carry him tooooooooo his buryin' groooooooooooooound"! (I note with pride that I am getting better at matching Séan's ability to hold out a note, but I still cannot sing in the same key that man does, and I'm still not convinced that mortal men are meant to sing in the Key of Séan. Attempting to do so, I suspect, will have the same dire portal-to-the-hot-place-opening consequences that trying to transcribe all the notes played by Bob's fiddle are rumored to have amongst the Murkjammers.)
- Alan cracked a joke about playing a late afternoon/early evening gig in Vancouver, during the intro to "Consequence Free", and noted that this was going to leave them all time to do all sorts of things afterwards. Like look for libraries, as they were given to understand that Vancouver had a lot of them. Séan, it seems, has an incredibly long library card, and Mr. McCann's bemoaning that he was horribly overdue in Vancouver naturally served as a proper lead-in for a song about wanting no responsibilities!
- Séan's introducing "I'm a Rover" by asking how many ladies in the audience had their rovers with them, and how many were rover-less. A far larger proportion of ladies seemed to be sans rover. Furthermore, Alan and Séan had an exchange in the intro I couldn't quite make out -- something which resulted in Séan saying, apparently quite straightfacedly, "This song's in 6/8!" I do have to wonder exactly what it was he couldn't say, that he said that instead. ;)
- I also noticed during the song itself that the B'ys stuck in a few extra measures here and there between the verses; I think I saw Alan give Séan a funny look on the first instrumental bit, as if Séan had apparently played a measure too many, but they ran with it anyway.
- Alan tried to see if the audience would actually recognize "Fast as I Can", when he talked about going back to a very early record for this one. Given how many of us started belting it out along with him, I don't think our ability to do that was ever in doubt!
- "Jack Hinks" started off with Alan telling us this was going to be even more of an audience involvement song, and exhorting us, after he yelled "One, two", to answer with "One, two, three, four" and set the beat. As none of us were exactly inclined to say no to The Doyle, well, let's just say Jack had a nice ripping beat!
- "Mari Mac" kicked in with the familiar E minor chord riffs, with more or less the same sly question Séan asks of the audience at the beginning of this song on Road Rage. Except that this time, he sang out "Mari Mac's mother's makin' Mari Mac marry me!" three times instead of once. I proudly sang along on the choruses as this is an especial favorite of the Murkjammers; Dara told us later she'd actually gotten her flute out to play along, back there on the blanket, and that she determined that we have, in fact, played it FASTER because she didn't have to do any of her cheats on her flute that she has to pull when we play the song too fast in jamming.
- "Ordinary Day" had a lot more singalong mileage than I'm used to -- we got a whole chorus to ourselves, in the bridge.
- Encore set #1, after the obligatory first round of the GREAT! BIG! SEA! chant: "Excursion Around the Bay", on which the key seemed to have a habit of creeping upwards in places I'm pretty sure the B'ys didn't intend for it to creep upwards, but well hey, these things seem to happen at live shows (heh), and something I didn't recognize, which was mostly instrumental but which had a couple of sung verses in the middle. Initially I thought it might have been one of the new ditties, "Tunes", but the folks on the OKP enlightened me that this was in fact something else new, called "Feller from Fortune".
- Encore set #2: "Rant and Roar" (HURRAY!), though with a different arrangement of verses than what I'm used to, which was pretty cool, and "End of the World".
Once the second encore was done, one last diehard knot of fans kept up with bellowing GREAT! BIG! SEA! for a little while. I noted with interest that that particular knot of fans did in fact seem to be male -- pretty solid mix of genders in this particular audience in general.
Mary, Mimi and I pretty much all had the Bumbershoot Saga of Encounters with Alan and Darrell in mind, and thus unilaterally decided to see if we could find a place where one of the B'ys might appear for autograph purposes if we stood around and looked wistful long enough. There was in fact a suitable little opening in the fence off to the left side of the stage, and towards that we gravitated, hanging out for several minutes. A bunch of other people had the same idea though, and eventually I went over to make sure that Kathryn and Dara knew where we were, since they were still back with our blanket and the rest of our belongings.
The plan then shifted, to go around to the back side of this same little area. Mimi and Mary kept the closest vigil, while Dara and Kathryn and I hung back and discussed the various flavors of clefs that have evolved in music notation over the centuries, as well as Kathryn's recent tackling of the complicated singing rhythm of "Rocky Road to Dublin". (Side note on the local wildlife: while we were yakking, we noted a single lone seagull who was waddling along in someone's wake as if perhaps plotting to mug him and steal his Cheetos -- and off in the distance, a single lone black squirrel.)
Soon enough, though, a kid came running around the corner gushing that he'd gotten a signature on... something or other. It seemed that Alan had in fact appeared in the very place we'd just left! DOH!
So we went back around to where the kid had scored the autograph by handing an item to Alan through the fence. We could just spy him through the slats, wearing shades by this point and having, as near as I could tell, shucked the orange shirt. He was surrounded pretty deep by fans at that point, so it was all for the best that we didn't try to get back around to where there wasn't a fence between us.
Mimi did, however, get to slip her journal through the fence to him and he made a joke about feeling like we were in Sarajevo, passing stuff back and forth through fences. And he did a nice big autograph on a blank page of her journal, complete with smiley face. Now, though, having seen two examples of Actual Alan Autographs, I do have to wonder if the man was a doctor in a previous life, because I'm not sure what cryptic set of characters he's using to spell "Alan", but they bear no resemblance to letters with which I am familiar. This, apparently, is Yet Another Mystery of Great Big Sea! ;)
I was, however, too chicken to actually go up to the fence myself and say anything -- and at any rate, I hadn't brought anything to sign. Had I been a clever piper, I would have brought one of my CDs with me, but noooOOOOooo... next time, though! There WILL BE A NEXT TIME!
At any rate, with a collective warm post-GBS-ogling glow amongst us, we turned to the crucial question of where to find dinner. The verdict on this became the Prospect Point Cafe, which had the big advantage of being very close by, as it was actually within Stanley Park. Thereunto we adjourned. (Side note #2 about the Stanley Park wildlife: en route to our car, Dara and Mary and I spotted a quartet of raccoons crossing the road. Clever little buggers, too, paying attention to whether or not any vehicles were coming! And brave, crossing in broad daylight as well. They were very cute indeed.)
At the Cafe, we milled around a bit to admire the view -- which was spectacular. There is a whole heck of a lot of Pretty in Vancouver, and as Mary was armed with a camera to record her trip, she had to go take some pictures of the Pretty. We got more of a view of the Pretty as well, as we wound up eating outside on the deck. This was because the inside portion of the restaurant was (though we didn't really learn this until we were almost done with our meal) reserved for a huge incoming party and therefore pretty much full.
Our waiter was incredibly cool and helpful. Asked by Dara to bring a diet Coke with a lemon wedge in it (because Dara normally hates diet Coke but finds it drinkable with lemon), he brought
all of us lemon wedges in our drinks and even a little saucer with extra lemon. He kept checking back with us to see if we needed things, and made funny expressions at us when we saw him coming our way with food and perked up hopefully... until he went right past us, looking apologetically our way, to the table whose occupants were the actual intended recipients of said food. He also told us that the big mountain we could see in the distance was Mount Baker.
Prospect Point Cafe service: two thumbs up! The salmon burger was pretty tasty, too.
While we were there, Mimi flipped through the little tourist information booklet she had acquired and made a Very Important Discovery: that there is an establishment in Vancouver called Cows, which bills itself as "Canada's Ice Cream". What convinced us that we did in fact have to go to this place for dessert was the ad with the cow on the motorcycle on it -- and thus, to that place, we chose to go for our dessert. Our cell phone issues had been worked out, so we split up to our vehicles, only to roll into...
Adventure #4: En route to Cows, we got the word from Kathryn that she had locked her keys in the trunk. DOH! So she and Mimi had to call Triple A to come and liberate their keys and asked us to get Mimi a shirt with the motorcycle-riding cow, if they proved to be still open when we got there.
At Cows, we discovered not only the shirt in question, but a whole host of cow-related merchandise in general. And tasty ice cream as well.
As it turned out, Kathryn and Mimi caught up with us comparatively quickly, bearing with them the tale of...
Adventure #5: Triple A had shown up incredibly quickly, and gotten Kathryn's keys out without any trouble at all. The following exchange occurred between Kathryn and the Triple A benefactor:
Kathryn: "I could kiss you!"
Triple A Guy, Handing Over Keys, Wryly: "Pucker up!"
However, shortly after this Kathryn and Mimi espied a guy on the side of the road, lying there rolling about and holding his head. They stopped to check on him and found that he was apparently homeless, probably somewhere in his sixties, probably drunk (Kathryn told us she'd smelled the cheap whiskey) and apparently having fallen and scraped up his face. They summoned help and made sure the guy got attended before they came and joined us, but even at Cows, Kathryn got a ring on her cell phone from the ambulance attendants who wanted to know if they were still in the area. Informed that she and Mimi were only visiting and were on their way back home that very night, he bid Kathryn a safe trip home.
Finally, though, with three of us having bought cow-related merchandise and all of us having bought ice cream, we got on the road at last.
Only for me to discover as our final little adventure of the night, when I finally made it home and in fact started typing up this very report, that we'd neglected to arrange to get Mimi dropped off back here at the Murkworks. And since Kathryn was just too darned tired to get her home tonight, she informed me via instant messenger that Mimi would crash at her place.
All in all, a very memorable day -- thanks not only to Great Big Sea, but Vancouver as well! A whole bunch of general Canadian niceness, all over the place. Gives an Amurkin girl a warm fuzzy feeling about visiting her northern neighbors, it does (and if you're reading this, Joey Payeur, let's just say that the probability of my eventual standing on Newfoundland soil in the heart of a crowd belting out the lyrics to "Rant and Roar" has just nudged itself up a little higher; if Newfoundlanders are anywhere near as nice as the denizens of Vancouver, I would be more than delighted to visit the Rock!)!
And I conclude, with great pleasure, that Great Big Sea has well and thoroughly established a fine tradition of warm and fuzzy feelings for this particular concertgoer!
Footnotes
- B'y: How you say "boy" with a Newfoundland accent, as demonstrated in the GBS ditty "I'se the B'y" on their very first album.
- The Great Big Gitch Toss: How the tossing of a pair of boxers onto the stage at the GBS show at Bumbershoot is going down in greatbigsea.com history! Short form of the story for those of you who are reading this on my web page: several members of my jamming group attended that show, and an unidentified female threw her bra onto the stage. GBS made jokes about 1) although they are a folk band, they appreciate underwear as much as anyone else, 2) the David Lee Roth show was elsewhere in the park, 3) the bra seemed just about Alan's size, and 4) nobody ever threw MEN'S underwear onto the stage. This last joke was taken as a direct challenge by Fred, one of the members of my jamming group, who promptly reached under his kilt, whipped off his boxers, and hurled them up onto the stage. There is actual Photographic Evidence of this!
- The Bob Effect: A strange phenemonon noted by the faithful fans of Great Big Sea, as documented at the web site maintained by the People Who Are Obsessed With Alan's Hair. Them's some wacky people. ;)
- The B'ys: Great Big Sea. See Footnote #1.
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