Concerts and Shows at The Magic Bag

Audiotree Presents: Patrick Watson

Tuesday, November 29 - Doors 7pm - $25 adv./$30 dos. 

This is the biography of Patrick Watson (based on things he told me.)

Once there was a boy named Patrick Watson who was born on a military base in the Mojave
Desert. His father rode around in planes carrying bombs, waiting for a command to drop them
that never came. He was the baby in a family of five, which would include a future figure skater,
an engineer and an air force pilot, but he was seven years younger than his next older sibling.
The trouble with being born this late into a family is they have all already gone mad, and they are
engaged in domestic dramas, chasing each other around with knives. He was left to make too
many assumptions about love and life on his own, and he still has the philosophy of a wise
beyond their years wide-eyed child.

The family moved to Hudson Quebec when Patrick was four. He was asked by an old gentleman
by the name of Frank Cobatt to sing in the church choir. Perhaps they met in the cough drop
section of the local grocery store. And Patrick sang in the church and his little boy's pretty,
melancholic voice broke everyone's heart. And the choir director had him sing at the foot of a
grave at a funeral. Because there is something in his voice that captures all the lovely things in
life we can only hold onto temporarily and how their transience is what makes them wonderful.
Patrick started playing piano when he was a child, of course. The piano used to belong to a boy
named Gordon. The boy would appear as a ghost and teach Patrick how to play in the middle of
the night. Even if Patrick played at three in the morning, his mother never interrupted these vital
lessons. He showed me the photo of Gordon who looked, more or less, like a terrifying
psychopath with tuberculosis who probably slit his whole family's throats while they were
sleeping. But I did not say so.

Patrick says he became a singer by accident. He thought he would compose scores for others to
play, which seems like an odd thing to say because he is so clearly sprinkled with the pixie dust
that causes a person to be transfixing on stage. And it's now hard to imagine Montreal without
the soundtrack of his songs.

But he met the artist Brigitte Henry who was taking surreal underwater photographs of people in
their clothes to make a book. This seemed like very important business to Patrick, so he made
music for her exhibition. They performed the show at the porno movie theatre Cinema L'Amour.
It was sold out. Brigitte Henry still designs some of his album covers, including this one.
Patrick likes to hang on to people. He met his first guitar player Simon Angell playing guitar on
the small streets of Hudson. In his first jazz class at college he walked in and Robbie Kuster and
Mishka Stein were both sitting there. It was as though they were all waiting for each other. They
would play together for the next twenty years.




The Magic Bag
22920 Woodward Ave
Ferndale, MI 48220
248.544.1991
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