Rusty Bones

On these feet I carry rust like tracks along a train yard in autumn bloom

As the rain pours down, these empty vessels consume my need for sleep

All the vagrants and the tramps are stowaways on a parade for the bravest meals

Barreling towards the unknown, all those souls get swept away alongside my carriage view

Flask in hand, change in pants, hat on head, workers man, can’t stand the necessities

Luggage stashed beneath the seat, small talk passes between me, my ears and window panes

Powerless and out of time, coal breathes flames and guiltless pints begin to swill my head

Hunger strikes the hour hand, she leans in and we begin to court untimely

Weakened by the fear and doubt, subtle notes are coursing through her lungs as she breathes out

And on the sill I placed my drink, while she adjusts her new confident mentality

Cigarettes and emptiness, passing glances, raindrops racing downward glass and see

My reflection skewed and stretched, under tunnels she pursues and still… yet I digress

Dotting I’s and crossing T’s, swell goodbyes and warm regards for those in time of need

For a while I find myself on a train heading to nowhere and that’s fine with me


Annual Calgary Zombie Walk Takes a Bite Out of the City

Calgary Zombie Walk

The Calgary Zombie walk is an event that happens once yearly in the spirit of Halloween, The Walking Dead and dressing up to give Calgarians quite a scare.

It’s all in good fun of course, where thousands gather at Olympic Plaza dressed in their best attire of flesh, brains, blood and good vibes.

The streets were packed as zombies rushed the survivors to put up a fight for their life.

From Mario and Luigi to Batman to dead brides and corpses, the spirit of Halloween could be felt and heard throughout the downtown core.

They marched and trudged along Steven Ave. and carried onward to 17th Ave. where the crowd gathered to recollect and take a breather while socializing.

From young to old, everyone participated in the anguish.

The best part about Halloween is seeing the creativity people put into their costumes to further keep the tradition alive.

Passers-by were scared and surprised cheering and honking their horns as their eyes beheld the army of zombies strutting their way.

“I love this event and the spirit of Halloween,” one crowd member said.

Photographers took their stand along with the survivors while some were daring enough to make their way right into the heart of the walk to get the best angles and shots.

If you haven’t had the chance to attend before, I highly recommend giving yourself a good scare next Halloween.

Young Galaxy: A Profile


Young Galaxy is an indie rock/dream pop Canadian group that originated in Vancouver, B.C. in 2005.

Their sound is compared to Pink Floyd and Luna with elements of shoegaze and electronic-oriented soundscapes.

Originally on Arts&Crafts records (A recording company staple based out of Toronto), they have been releasing under Paper Bag records in recent years with a noticeable stylistic shift towards dance music elements.

Catherine McCandless features a more prominent role as a lead singer.

I watched Young Galaxy perform at SAIT’s The Gateway on September 21st and to my amazement saw a very minimal set up using background projections as an added element to a dream like set list.

The crowd gathered as they hit the stage and everyone was hypnotically entranced holding their gaze upon Catherine’s captivating eyes.

“She sounds like Dolores from The Cranberries,” I heard one audience member say.

The fours would hit the floor and everyone was crooning and dancing with their hands waving like flags.

Doused in 90’s vibes, even down to Catherine McCandless’ outfit of leather overalls to the swept back short hair, the crowd couldn’t help but move to the swaying dream pop resonating throughout the venue.

She gave a deadpan stare and moved elegantly with a shaker in her hand that seemed automated everytime she shook it but instead was rhythmically moving to the beat of the drums.

When they released their self-titled debut album back in 2007, their music was quickly being recognized for its well-crafted songs that carried you to a place you’ve never been to.

Even when you think you haven’t heard them before, you might have caught their tune “The Sun’s Coming up and My Plane’s Going Down” in the Canadian film “Y.P.F (Young People F**king)”.

It’s to no one’s surprise that they’ve accredited praise release after release while expanding their sound to incorporate electronic elements such as midi drums in their foray of instruments.

Their music has shifted in tone but hasn’t lost its edge.

They’ve adopted a more “impressionistic” writing style, says Stephen Ramsay (guitarist/keyboardist/vocalist), instead of using the verse-chorus-verse progression commonly found in all types of music.

Their new album Ultramarine, which was longlisted as a nominee for the sought after Polaris Music Prize, is available in your local music stores.

You can catch Young Galaxy continue their U.S. tour from September 27th through November 10th.

Check out “Embers” from their self-titled release and “Fall For You” off of Ultramarine.


by: Dylan Streifel

Getting a Little ‘Risky’ with Cale Zebedee

Risky Endeavor is a 3 piece group consisting of Cale Zebedee (Bass), Paul Gervais (Drums) and Ryan Landon (Guitar) who are looking to storm the world with their melody driven, good-time-vibe rock and roll.

Cale Zebedee plays bass and shares vocals with Ryan. I sat down with Cale to find out just how “risky” his band could get.

“I’ve always been playing bass since I started [music],” says Cale.

Cale Zebedee Article Pics

They originated in Calgary, Alberta contributing to the small but strong and proud music community.

“Music’s a risky endeavor,” says Cale.

“You put a lot into it and hope for something to come out of it,” he adds.

Cale has been in many bands but wishes to have no other affiliation than his current project. Risky Endeavor is looking to make a bigger impact on the music scene.

“We are going to take it as far as it takes us,” Cale shares.

“Until it doesn’t fit us anymore, we don’t care. We would still jam because we are all about having fun but being serious,” he adds.

Cale Zebedee Article Pics

Cale is not a stranger to the road either. He has already been on tour across Canada.

“I love the road. There is honestly nothing better than waking up in a new place every few days,” he says.

“The only constant is change,” he shares wisely.

“It’s a whole different lifestyle, but there’s just such a romance you form with it,” he mentions.

Cale Zebedee Article Pics

 “I honestly would love to do some Risky touring but we have a few other things to worry about before we do that,” such as getting well known in their hometown first and foremost.

Risky Endeavor is influenced by some of the greats and some not as well known.

Jesse Lacey (lead singer of Brand New) and Dave Grohl (of Nirvana and the Foo Fighters) are among some of their most favorite acts today.

“They just do it for me,” says Cale.

“Ryan Landon is really influenced by Modest Mouse (an indie rock group based out of Washington), and Matthew Good (based out of Vancouver), he shares.

“We all love Matthew Good,” he says proudly.

There are bright futures for these talented young men.

“Risky is going to record for a few months and work on a 2014 release of an EP,” he shares as an insight.

“We really wanted to release something this year but we want to give people the best that we have, so we have been holding off and perfecting songs,” he mentions.

You can catch Cale, Ryan and Paul at their most favorite venue Vern’s Tavern on 8 Ave SW most of the time and at Dickens Pub on 9th Avenue SW coming up.

“Our show’s on the 30th (October). It’s with a bunch of really great touring bands and I feel honoured to be on the bill.

Trace The Sky (members of Dead Eyes Open and The Perfect Trend) from Vancouver, Sharks on Fire from Vancouver, and Old Townes from Edmonton.

“It’s at Dickens Pub. It’s the day before Halloween so we are probably going to dress up,” says Cale.

If you’d like to get dressed up, get risky and get rowdy, be sure to grab your tickets before they run out.

Cale Zebedee Article Pics



If we are not enemies

Then we must be lovers

Who shelter and cherish and care for each other


And under bad weather we’re better together

Not fretting on letters and poor misspelled grammar


We are the bridges that connect the few

When lost souls get swept up in knots tied too loose

Where currents get vicious and bodies are bruised

We’ll stand tried and true as the monuments destined to rule


I asked you a question there was no response

But expressions on your face had misplaced all trust


When the leaves start to fall and all the world tumbles slow

I will search through the wreckage to find you a home


It’s all I need to be the monument that holds you up


We are the bridges that connect the few

When lost souls get swept up in knots tied too loose

Where currents get vicious and bodies are bruised

We’ll stand tried and true as the monuments destined to rule


If we are not lovers

Then we must be friends

And by that time I hope that these words never end

The Joyful (Miscreants)


Wayward, you were

Untethered and free

Homebound, was I

Captive and clean


Miscreants daily

Running like waves

Rushing ashore

Devouring remains


Onward we’ll go under our regime

Senseless and reckless, we’ll form our own team

Without a limit, we’ll bend all the rules

And teach them all how to become old news


Angered, you stuttered

Foolish and proud

To demand the juror

That which wasn’t allowed


Always mistreated

We could not protect

The innocence created

From within our heads


Onward we’ll go under our regime

Senseless and reckless, we’ll form our own team

Without a limit, we’ll bend all the rules

And teach them all how to become old news


And we’ll run carefree

Just like they taught us to be

We’ll carry our burdens and cast them to seas

We’ll run like the wind between our teeth

Smiles so big they’re mistaken for beams of light


Until the day that my knees give in

They’ll try to defeat us and chop off our heads

Because it’s not empty, but filled with our dreams

These ideas will flourish, we’ll make history

You Were an Orchard


You were an orchard, I planted my seeds

Within these moments, you grew more than me


I was the child who ran through the streets

Looking for answers to things left unseen


You were the ocean, the sand on my feet

The lighthouse that guided the boats on the sea


I was the child that watched from the shore

As you raised your anchor and sailed henceforth


Why do scattered ashes look like drawings of a former life I once had?

When I find I lose my mind, I’m in a crossfire with no time to leave


I was a turnstile and you were in line

Waiting and walking, you passed through my mind


You were the reason I gave an excuse

To leave on a whirlwind, that words would ring true


I was the umpire who lost all control

When you slid for home base, I never let go


Why do scattered ashes look like drawings of a former life I once had?

When I find I lose my mind, I’m in a crossfire with no time to leave


I’m sketching lines without meaning

Meeting minds without feeling

Like a thief that isn’t stealing

Or a dealer never dealing


Why do I rely on time when clocks keep ticking like untimely death?

‘Cause when I run out of steam, like batteries that dry, where will I go?

Calgary’s Music Scene through the Eyes of Young Talent

Calgary has always been viewed as a city with less of an influence on music than others in Canada. This is hardly the case for twenty-four-year-old Cale Zebedee, the bass player for the band Risky Endeavor. He spoke about his experiences in the music industry in Calgary and what music means to him.

“I’ve been in many bands over the years, many not worth any mentioning at all,” says Cale.

Music was always a big part of his life.

“When someone asks me why I love music, it’s hard to explain with words about why I care so much about it.”

“It was countless hours listening to records trying to discover what I liked and who I wanted to be like.”

Cale has been in another band famous in Calgary: Benny Sheers and the Bad Beat. But he had more to share about his current project.

“I’m currently writing with Risky Endeavor: a three piece alternative rock band.” They are known for being three cool dudes having fun playing up beat rock and roll.

The music for Cale is more than just words and lyrics.

“Playing music to me is like a religious experience. It never really lets me down. It is always a creative outlet, even if it were just drifting away in my albums.”

Music has a different meaning for each person. For some, it is purely the beat that keeps them dancing along, or the guitar shredding along at speeds incomprehensible to some. For Cale, it meant the pure raw ferocity of playing live.

“I was probably 15 or 16 when I bought ‘Nevermind’ by Nirvana with my allowance. It blew my mind!”

“I had never heard and still have yet to hear such a major top 40 band give such a raw performance,” Cale remembers.

“It takes a special kind of person to tour. It’s not for everybody. I mean so many bands end up breaking up after first or second tours because of how hard it is.”

The best part for him was being on the road touring with his friends.

“But living on the road can get to you. You’re away from all your friends and family.

You’re sleeping entirely in vehicles or on floors, or wherever you can crash.”

But at the same time, he wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.

“I miss being on the road more than anything. I’ve never felt at home anywhere, so being a vagabond is when I feel best.”

The music in Calgary has gone on unnoticed, even to its own citizens.

“I feel the Calgary music scene is booming in parts and dying in others,” says Cale.

“Calgary is a great place to branch out to other markets. It forces bands/artists to actually explore beyond our city to truly be successful. I find that larger cities trap musicians in their confines,”says Corey Tapp, bass player for the band Torches To Triggers, and formerly of This Is A Standoff.

Musicians aren’t necessarily in the music scene alone. They support their fellow band members as well as the other acts associated throughout the city.

“As a result, the community bands together to promote any style of music,” says Corey.

“We all try and support each other as best as we can by going to each other’s shows, doing promos where we can, and tossing each other on bills (show line-ups),” says Cale.

“One thing that makes me proud to be a musician in Calgary, or Alberta for that matter, is our province’s method (Alberta Foundation for the Arts) and support of the arts,” says Corey.

But why hasn’t Calgary seen a rise and shine like other cities (such as Toronto or Vancouver) who is known for being pioneers of music?

“Calgary will first and foremost always be an oil city and that’s what Alberta is,” Cale explains.

“Opportunities are up to the artist really. The music we make isn’t necessarily known or understood really but we can create our opportunity [here],” says Sean Sinclair, co-creator and MC for the group Chief Navaho.

“There are countless talented people in this city, but people just haven’t seen the light like in places like Vancouver or Toronto,” Cale added.

The way people gain exposure in Calgary is through radio contests.

“Amp 90.3’s Rockstar and X92.9’s Xposure have shown a bit more light on what Calgary really has to offer,” Cale says. “More people should realize that Calgary could easily become a hot spot for music.”

Cale has always supported his local music scene going to shows and being a promoter for many bands.

“I really want to get more into the business side of [music] whether that means becoming a promoter or a bar owner a producer or something along those lines.”

The way musicians survive together is by viewing the music scene as a collaboration of raw talent, instead of having each act being on their own.

“No matter what you project in a band, success or hipster Lo-Fi obscurity, the music is foremost what will sell your band and the rest is quite secondary,” says Corey.

Even when Calgary can’t find solidarity throughout the vast differences in musical taste, each musician can guarantee an influence on the city.

“Lord knows rock and roll won’t pay the bills, but if you’re smart about it you can make music your career,” Cale beckoned.

Untitled Tread

Every price set on my head

Is one I can’t afford to pay

In a dream I seem the chosen one

But alone; I did not choose this way

Just like the sea, I drift away

But like the sea, your enemy

We’re putting heroes on our shelves

Disguised them as milestones we can’t live without

We dusted ends of earths to seek

What all there is that’s left to fix

Just like the wind, I will beckon

But like the wind will come an end

When dogs come out at night

Heaving, burdened, bound and chained

And the searchlights find you – standing there

Make a safe haven in me

O Blossoming King

Untie the knot, then the cord and the hooks in the phone

Just like you, cynical, umbilical cords that you pulled

Break out the outbreak; conceal your vaccine from the earth

Disasters as plastered as drinking the nights, says your curse

 For hate turns to whom such as this that is born from within

 Shake down the mountains, the avalanche soon you’d create

And tear out your hair (built a ruin then watched it all fall)

Downward we spin to colossal nightmares we’ve exhumed

And haunting: not monsters, nor demons, unlike those we’ve sinned

 For hate turns to whom such as this that is born from within

 Unlikely proposals, disposable, just like the moon

Sitting in stalls, still appalled that we took the night’s reign

And king for a crown, for a queen, for the grace of his hand

Nightly, we’re pressed on the pillows of skulls, rested head

 For love turns to stone like the grasp you withheld from your kin

Paper Fortune Tellers

(Narrative essay for school)

I remember the day clearly, the day when my life would change forever. There were times that were simpler; times that I wish I could have back. I remember being in my bedroom for the first time and I wasn’t alone, but the love of my life was sitting next to me and we were as happy as could be.

Happiness is a strange emotion, it isn’t an easy thing to define; rather, it defines how we act in life and how we react to specific things that trigger a fleeting moment, or a nostalgic past time. For me, it is the nostalgia of being in love. Being with that someone you cherish like a bird in a cage hoping it will never fly away. That it could be yours forever, even though we all know birds eventually die; and my love eventually did. The longing grew into loneliness, and the loneliness grew into the faint desire of wanting to see that smile on her face one last time. But we’re succumbed by sadness, or, at least for me, I am easily saddened by the littlest of things.

Sadness to me is a foray that easily becomes an infestation of constant battling and strides for change. When depression strikes, it’s like a shot to the heart, without a bad Bon Jovi reference implied, but she gave love a band name. The love of my life turned on me – that was one thing I never thought could happen. I thought we would always be in love; always see the glistening smiles on each others faces. But the brewing storm clouds resonating above us followed us around like the little black cloud we see in all those cartoons. You feel the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it drags you to hell and back. You want to escape, but how?

Escaping from reality quickly became the only way to deal with anything. It was the constant need to feed off of my hatred, the need to see how deep I could go before I reached the center of the earth only to be consumed by flames. It was finding a sense of fear and looking it in the face. It desperately was finding a way to cope. But what surprised me, what I learnt about myself was, I only needed the sobering thoughts in my mind to find peace. It wasn’t the sadness, no! It wasn’t narcotics; it wasn’t even her. I know that sounds foolish, but, if you can’t find happiness within you, how will you ever be able to make someone else happy?

To find a sense of belonging within love is like being in a prison without a bed: eventually you’ll run yourself tired. The best way to find happiness in life is to be happiness in life. There isn’t a complex way to suggest these actions, it really is, simply put, be happy and every day in every way I am getting better and better. The love of my life (the lost love of my life) taught me that valuable lesson to never let one be consumed by hatred, by sadness, by narcotics, or any of the above. Always find your happiness from within and it will shine outward for everyone to see.

Untitled [Showstopper]

I’ve been keeping friends in all the wrong places, again

Making amends only to become wasted within

Will you hang me high just to feel the weight collapsing?

Jumping through hoops then paraded and aided only to feel it buckle

Hold me close to hear me breathe in, out, heart, stops

The ears hear them steer and I know that they’re coming for me

To drape me in chains and amazed that they displayed my corpse, on a stage

A prize not worth fighting for fighting was what fueled the flame

And shivering aisles kept me colder than air turned to wind

Hold me close to hear me breathe in, out, heart, stops

The eyes called your lies out in front of the troops in the line

Pulled out and drawn then they aimed just to shoot me back down

So see me tonight on the mend on the fence in your yard

And see me tonight make a fool ‘cause I tried way too hard

Hold me close to hear me breathe in, out, heart, stops

I Wish Parts 1 to 5


I wish

I wish time would stall

That the leaves would not change

That we could have it all

That the world would move slowly

And the waves would crash calm

To beat the sun bright and early

And the night before dawn

I wish that nostalgia

Wouldn’t ease all the aches

Of feeling old and tired

Now the surface holds the stain

That if one day we’d stop hoping

For a day where we could be

Sitting on the grass back on the roots

Under the trees

That the seashell was a telephone

And ocean waves I’d call

To remember what it’s like to be

Buried beneath it all

If the winter logs kept burning

And old Saint Nick remained

I wouldn’t have to wish

That I could live it all again

And days that never ended

Even when the sun would rest

I remember being happier

Underneath my sheets in bed

And now all I can think of

Is a drink to pass the time

A cigarette to fuel my need to find a reason why

And waiting at a bus stop

Used to be a cherished thing

And now all I can think of is

Why aren’t you hurrying?

I wish I had a reason

To think up more than this

That we could all be young again

And never have to miss

A day where we weren’t selfish

But in selfless, fulfilled bliss

And though the clock is ticking

And the watchmakers must go

I won’t forget the time

When only he could tell me so

That everything had purpose

And an itching to discover

Without the fuel beside my bed

To help me now recover

I want to know that in some way

Someday, things won’t pass by

And tell me please, to bring me ease

I know I’ll never die


Oh, the snow

You fall with ease

And curse the world

While we’re knee deep

Boots, so loose

Our rugged toes

Are trotting along

So frozen and cold

The warm aroma

Of stale beans

Dark, no room

For sugar or cream

The taste, it burnt

My bitter tongue

And inhaled smoke

To fill my lungs

Washed it out

With failed dreams


Battered seams

Dropped the charm

Untied the noose

I feel no warmth

From gloves and toques

Sipping still

In an empty room

A lovely couple

A bride and groom

His smile gleamed

Her heart would shudder

He was the toast to her melted butter

Through cherishing their days together

To be so calm in the harshest weather

Never once blamed old Jack Frost

Even when all hope was lost

Father and Son

I had noticed that the jail cell was left open that night. While taking a quick glance, I found there were no guards in sight, no inmates, and not a soul to be seen. Assuming this was a sign of good luck, I ran off without looking back. I knew the prison halls like the back of my hand; I ran for the exit and fled. My son was staying with Margaret, my ex wife, who I haven’t seen since late august of last year. I never had the chance to say goodbye to him; she, I couldn’t care less about but my son was my pride and joy. I never wanted him to be a screw up like his old man. Every year for Christmas, I gave him something to remember me by: a glass marble to signify that you never have to stop moving forward, a small toy soldier to keep him reminded that one should never stop fighting for what is important. But this year, I hadn’t given him a thing. I went to their house, and knocked on the old, worn down door. It was unlocked so I made an entrance and walked to his bedroom. I sat down in the old chair where I used to read bedtime stories to him. I placed my hand on his head, told him that daddy was home. I slipped an old photograph in his pocket of him and I from the carnival a couple years back. It was a proud moment in my life. That year, I won him a giant teddy bear that he slept with every night. It was all he ever wanted. I left the room, and closed the door behind me. I walked to the backyard and lit a cigarette, pulled out my trusty bottle of whiskey, took a swig and laid on the porch waiting for the cops to come, or for god to take me away, or for any sign that my life was over. I closed my eyes and waited.



You never realize

How ugly things seem

Until you wipe the moment

From your eyes

To see your dreams

Shatter all around you

And break upon the seams

The moment that it impacts

You gather what it means

To see the things you lack

Are stacked upon your rugged feet

Weighed down by the feeling

Of feeling numb within

And pause for no concern

I figured I’d begin again

But learning from mistakes

I may have taken this apart

My empty, shallow, hollowed out, cold and barren heart

I ran it through the wash too many times to get it clean

But all the imperfections still resemble you and me

And never have I thought that in an instant I would be

Writing about all the things I thought were truly free

Untitled Lost Girl

The snowfall was quiet

Quiet, like a breeze

That curses to the moonlight

And knows not what it sees

But high above the moonlight

The chords then struck a nerve

She fell upon a mountain

An undying, sudden curse

Carried by the stream

And pockets filled with sin

The mountain wind had quivered

Her skin was growing thick

She gazed the world around her

Mysterious and reposed

A lust-less lost love lying

In the banks beneath her toes

She fell toward her knees

But no tears evoked her past

And the memories she remembered

Were like morsels in a flask

One by one, and slowly emptied

The pitiful, last remains

Were gobbled up just like the final choices she had made…

And hope began to swell her

In death, she would refrain

For no acceptance she’d give in to

Like a breath, she’d choke again

From the speechless, senseless satire

Or the morbid, macabre mess

Her lover died beneath the snow

And it became his last best dressed.

Levitation and Memoirs


Nothing can take the place of a sad song

Or the wind beneath my feet

As I levitate above

Looking for a reason to believe

But losing out on things

Such as this: happiness

Coexist; can’t exist

With my sins…

I am this: hollowed out

Flickered bliss

Sparks are dust

Misplaced trust

In the hands

Of a gambler

Oh how sad…

Sparks are ashes

Waves come crash

Crashing down

Upon your house of carps

Engine’s cold

Gas tank’s full

Nowhere left

Left to go…

Left behind

Left me so

Stuck in constants

Ashes grow

Trembled hands

Painted face

Take away the “ted”

And left with pain…

There she cries

A tear of sorrow

Ponds, to lakes, and rivers to morrow

Flooded from the frowning façade

A splendid sincere sadden macabre