Written by Daniel Stad
One day while the world was going about its business, Noah Gataveckas decided to clot. All his days he had been a buoy in a stream, getting pushed right, left, right through the greater river system of life. Surely there was more than this, he thought. Surely there was more than just school, work, and home. Food then sex then death? Please. It was the 21st century and he was disappointed that the world had just shrugged and decided to ho hum along with the old ways. He decided to disagree.
So he started writing music. He wasn’t the best singer or the best guitar player, but he figured that that wasn’t important. He cared about the message, and was committed towards delivering it with authenticity and truth. He wanted to tell it like it was. He studied Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs records, got lost in the freeform jazz of Miles Davis. Neko Case stole his heart and the Hold Steady ate him alive. But he was reborn, cool like Lou Reed and complex like Paul Simon. And of course Neil Young, the Law incarnate, stared into his soul and asked him, “are you willing to die for rock and roll?”. He let the music answer.
He currently lays low in the colourful playground of Toronto, playing impromptu concerts for no one in particular. Often you can find him at house parties in the Annex feedbacking guitars with broken strings through ancient tube amps. Or maybe singing Merle Haggard songs on dilapidated patios for the kids, telling them how mama tried. He has a Myspace page, as all musicians do nowadays, and if you talk to him even has a compact disc for sale. What a success! I’m sure his autograph is at least worth the ink spent writing it.
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