(This photo of Mr. Chi Pig, which hangs on the wall in our home, was one of two my wife & I received as wedding gifts. I believe the photo was taken by none other than local photographer extraordinaire Dwayne Larson.)
Last week, on July 16, a Canadian punk rock legend died. Ken Chinn, known to punks the world over as Mr Chi Pig, was a unique personality, a charismatic performer, and a damned fine lyricist and visual artist as well. In the days that followed, the outpouring of memories and grief from those who knew him, and those who spent a good part of their lives listening to or watching the man perform, across social media was heartening to behold. Truly, the man touched many lives.
My heart is broken but it’s nice to see all the love for Chi Pig, one of my all time heroes. When I saw SNFU play the course of my life was completely altered.
(Todd Kowalski, bass player for Propagandhi, one of many to share stories on social media about the influence of Chi and SNFU.)
SNFU are among my favourite bands, period, and certainly top of the punk rock heap. My introduction to the music would have been the Punk-o-Rama compilations, and those Epitaph records on repeat in the old Pizza Place kitchen in the late 90s. My own personal favourite cut comes from their Epitaph debut, Something Green and Leafy This Way Comes.
While I missed out on the band’s first two spins around the world, I was at their Vancouver reunion gig at the Cobalt in 2004 leading up to the release of In the Meantime and Between Time. I was at the show with my buddy Jiminy, who was the singer of my old band The Tups and probably the biggest SNFU fan I knew at the time. I know Chi Pig as a huge influence on Jim, who while he styled himself as a “PG GG” no doubt owed more to Chi than GG Allin when it came to his own performance style.
I must have seen them, in various iterations, a dozen times over the next 10 years, as well as catching Chi’s harrowing renditions of Johnny Cash’s (cover of) Hurt and surprisingly tender take on Bush X’s Glycerine at a karaoke night at the old Standard Tavern sometime in there as well. While some of the later SNFU live shows may not have held a candle to the “glory days”, as I’ve been reminded by old punks ad nauseam, was still a treat to see Chi sing those songs, even if I left the venue concussed and pouring blood from my face owing to a mishap in the pit (which happened at least once) or having made a complete buffoon of myself (which may have happened, I’m told, at least once).
As a budding journalist, I had the opportunity to interview Chi a couple times. Tracking him down was always a bit of an issue. Being more or less homeless at the time, if you wanted to talk to Chi you had to call Pub 340 in the afternoon and hope he was around. Getting him on the phone was one thing, getting him to agree to talk was another. If he had the time, and he was agreeable, he could be very generous with his time, quick witted and as fun an interview as you could hope for. Or he could be a royal pain in the ass, it all depended on how he was feeling at the time.
In case you happen to be unfamiliar with the man or the band, the music itself plays a huge part in SNFU’s appeal. A powerful blend of breakneck speed, gnarly riffs, and catchy, or so often melancholy, melody, the tunes just straight up rock. Chi’s unique voice and outrageous stage presence put the band over the top. That they were from Western Canada inspired other prairie and backwoods bangers to pick up guitars and load up the van, though few would ever rise to the ranks or have the widespread influence SNFU did.
As a writer, I find inspiration in Chi’s writing. In much the same way that the late John Prine was able to write about everyday people in mundane situations and find the beauty in the overlooked details, Chi was to highlight the absurdity, sadness and beauty in the lives of the freaks, geeks and weirdos he walked among, be it as a jester or a king.
Chi would paint a picture in a few short lines. Consider the raw observational, fly-on-the wall beauty of “One Legged Bridge Jumper Breaks Good Leg in Plunge” (from Meantime) or “Reality is a Ride on the Bus” (from Something Green) for example. “Watering Hole” can go toe-to-toe with the Replacements’ “Here Comes a Regular.” Think you’re having a bad day? Well, “Eric bought a new amp then got kicked out of his band.”
Or consider the portrait of an Elvis lookalike from rural southern Alberta:
He sang deep and low, well, he sang in baritone. He sang about the buffalo, and he sang about home sweet home. He sang about cool hot-rods, and shiny UFOs. He did not sing about what he did not know.
Or, the fleeting beauty and solace found only in music:
In his Chevy he did perish to A Free Man in Paris. The song played loudly away. Just when he found what he liked, it was taken away.
Each SNFU album is full of such killer lines. Pull out the lyric sheet next time you slap a slab on the turntable and give a look, won’t ya?
Chi’s passing leaves a hole that cannot be filled, for he was a true original. They broke the mold with him, that’s for sure. The man lived a turbulent life, there’s no doubt. If you’d like to learn more about the man, the myth, the legend than an obituary can hope to capture, track down a copy of Chris Walter’s bio of the band SNFU… What No One Else Wanted to Say (for which I provided Walter with an early proof read of), or spend an hour or so with the documentary film Open Your Mouth and Say … Mr. Chi Pig.