Rob Benvie is Tigre Benvie, with a new album Bankruptcy available now through 1.7 Publications. He has done time in Thrush Hermit, Rick of the Skins and, presently, the Dears, who have a new limited edition EP Protest. He also records with Ian McGettigan as Camouflage Nights, with their debut record in the works. He grew up in Halifax but currently resides in Montreal.
Current fixations:
Films: The Exterminating Angel F For Fake Patton. Books: Kapuscinski's The Emperor, Houellebecq's The Elementary Particles, Moody's The Black Veil, Lautremont's Les Chants de Maldoror. Music: Squarepusher's Do You Know Squarepusher Trina's No Pannies the oeuvre of Red Rat. Battling chronic neck pain. Living the dream.
Mind-altering work of art:
The comics of Jack Kirby, 60s and 70s. The Toronto Multicity Fantasies of Daniel Jilly. The sketchbooks of Peter Elkas.
Most memorable or inspirational gig:
Snoop Dogg's abysmal performance on the final Lollapalooza in Washington, DC. The fall of a once noble prince witnessed by a half-full amphitheatre of shirtless ding-dongs. A tragedy. And why was I even there?
What has been your career high and low?
High: Running into a certain girl from high school at the bank while depositing Thrush Hermit's whopping buyout cheque from Elektra.
Low: Realising that this world favours not the honest, but the ruthless.
What should everyone shut up about?
Purported "rock" bands that don't have sax players. Fellas, it don't skronk without the honk. Also: Europe.
I would drop everything to play a benefit for:
Hands Across America.
What trait do you like and dislike most about yourself?
Like: At heart, my motives are sincere.
Dislike: Immaturity.
What would make you kick someone out of your band and/or bed, and have you?
I kicked myself out of Thrush Hermit for writing crappy songs. I sleep alone.
When I think of Canada I think:
A wonderful and vast nation of beauty, freedom and sluts.
What is your vital daily ritual?
A good cry.
How do you spoil yourself?
Big quarts of 50 and poutine. Carbs in general.
What was your most memorable day job?
I briefly worked as a copywriter for a mid-level advertising agency in Halifax. My duties included correcting spelling, arguing semantics with dummies and trying to appear busy. Canned after three months.
If I wasn't playing music I would be:
Bloated, sweaty and trapped in some sort of cell-waving aggro career path.
What is your greatest fear?
Ranked in increasing level of terror: poverty, traffic, crowds, squids, bugs, women, failure, death.
If you had a superpower, what would it be?
Two-handed tapping.
What makes you want to take it off and get it on?
Pretty girls who are nice to me and don't have cell phones. The only music I listen to in the sack is Tigre Benvie.
Music and sex: Is there a difference? Why?
Both are activities I usually do alone. Booya!
Strangest brush with celebrity:
I was once sort of involved in a romantic scheme to make Steve Albini jealous. Note: I was half his age at the time. Booya!
Who would be your ideal dinner guest, living or dead, and what would you serve them?
William Faulkner and/or Flavor Flav. Brewskies.
What does your mom wish you were doing instead?
Stashing money in GICs. Booya!
Current fixations:
Films: The Exterminating Angel F For Fake Patton. Books: Kapuscinski's The Emperor, Houellebecq's The Elementary Particles, Moody's The Black Veil, Lautremont's Les Chants de Maldoror. Music: Squarepusher's Do You Know Squarepusher Trina's No Pannies the oeuvre of Red Rat. Battling chronic neck pain. Living the dream.
Mind-altering work of art:
The comics of Jack Kirby, 60s and 70s. The Toronto Multicity Fantasies of Daniel Jilly. The sketchbooks of Peter Elkas.
Most memorable or inspirational gig:
Snoop Dogg's abysmal performance on the final Lollapalooza in Washington, DC. The fall of a once noble prince witnessed by a half-full amphitheatre of shirtless ding-dongs. A tragedy. And why was I even there?
What has been your career high and low?
High: Running into a certain girl from high school at the bank while depositing Thrush Hermit's whopping buyout cheque from Elektra.
Low: Realising that this world favours not the honest, but the ruthless.
What should everyone shut up about?
Purported "rock" bands that don't have sax players. Fellas, it don't skronk without the honk. Also: Europe.
I would drop everything to play a benefit for:
Hands Across America.
What trait do you like and dislike most about yourself?
Like: At heart, my motives are sincere.
Dislike: Immaturity.
What would make you kick someone out of your band and/or bed, and have you?
I kicked myself out of Thrush Hermit for writing crappy songs. I sleep alone.
When I think of Canada I think:
A wonderful and vast nation of beauty, freedom and sluts.
What is your vital daily ritual?
A good cry.
How do you spoil yourself?
Big quarts of 50 and poutine. Carbs in general.
What was your most memorable day job?
I briefly worked as a copywriter for a mid-level advertising agency in Halifax. My duties included correcting spelling, arguing semantics with dummies and trying to appear busy. Canned after three months.
If I wasn't playing music I would be:
Bloated, sweaty and trapped in some sort of cell-waving aggro career path.
What is your greatest fear?
Ranked in increasing level of terror: poverty, traffic, crowds, squids, bugs, women, failure, death.
If you had a superpower, what would it be?
Two-handed tapping.
What makes you want to take it off and get it on?
Pretty girls who are nice to me and don't have cell phones. The only music I listen to in the sack is Tigre Benvie.
Music and sex: Is there a difference? Why?
Both are activities I usually do alone. Booya!
Strangest brush with celebrity:
I was once sort of involved in a romantic scheme to make Steve Albini jealous. Note: I was half his age at the time. Booya!
Who would be your ideal dinner guest, living or dead, and what would you serve them?
William Faulkner and/or Flavor Flav. Brewskies.
What does your mom wish you were doing instead?
Stashing money in GICs. Booya!
