Kim Mitchell, Canada’s clown prince of power pop, turns Vancouver into a Rocklandwonderland

kevin statham photo

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON OCT. 20, 1989

By Steve Newton

The pre-concert howling contest staged by rowdy Kim Mitchell fans in the lobby of the Orpheum turned out to be a prelude to rambunctious things to come from Canada’s Clown Prince of Power Pop. Few performers have the ability to deliver a hard-driving show with as much gusto and playful humour as Sarnia, Ontario’s human scarecrow.

The show opened with a percussion extravaganza featuring three, count ’em, three complete drum kits, before Mitchell slipped onstage in a purple, yellow, and blue jumpsuit, white runners, and trademark pink baseball cap to lead the band in a crunchin’ rendition of “That’s the Hold”, from his Juno-winning Shakin’ Like a Human Being LP.

After the deafening welcome that followed his first tune, Mitchell–not the type to waste time between songs–headed right into “Crossroads”–not the Clapton version, but one of the finer tracks from his latest album, the near-platinum Rockland.

“This is a neat place,” quipped Mitchell, glancing around at the Orpheum’s ornate splendour, then conducting a whimsical audience sing-along on his story of youthful romance, “Patio Lanterns”.

Keyboardist Greg Wells sported one of those new-fangled Marshall synths–or more likely he’d lifted a Marshall logo from one of Mitchell’s amps and stuck it where the Korg symbol used to be. At any rate, the Corey Haim look-alike used his instrument to great effect, creating spacey funked-up intros to tunes like “Rocklandwonderland” before switching to guitar and out-riffing the Mitch on “Lager and Ale”.

As usual, bassist Peter Fredette was a stalwart on lead and backing vocals, and he stole the show with “All We Are”. His soulful bursts were reminiscent of Glenn Hughes, who would often blow David Coverdale away when the two shared vocals in mid-’70s Deep Purple. If Fredette ever decides to go solo, watch out!

Although Mitchell and his band put on a great show, one can’t help but wonder how much better the whole thing would have been in a place like the Commodore or 86 Street, where it’s okay to move around to the music. But even the Orpheum’s inhibiting atmosphere wasn’t enough to deter folks from storming the stage once the familiar chords of “Rock ‘N Roll Duty” were struck.

Why, there were even young girls perched on guys’ shoulders. In the Orpheum! Somebody call Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!

To hear the full audio of my interviews with Kim Mitchell from 1984, ’86, ’89, ’92, ’94, and 2000 subscribe to my Patreon page, where you can eavesdrop on over 700 of my uncut, one-on-one conversations with rockers since 1982.