Imagine being a Quebecois furrier in your squaw-’n-victuals laden canoe paddling after your pelts down one watery byway or another, memories of a mythical and antedeluvian France reflected endlessly across the water and among the halls of your mind (a private, endlessly liquid Versailles), and somehow impossibly, rounding a copse of maple and a bend in a tributary you find you’ve followed an animist beaver down its hole, as it were, and sailed right out of Canada and onto the Seine…. I have to thank my friend Todd for being a longtime champion of this form and initially exposing me to Chavez in college- along with, in the years that have followed, bands like Hum , Shiner , Centaur, and recently Pinebender .
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