I love mornings. Even the early ones. Especially the early ones.

On very early mornings I am fresh, uncluttered. Things that have bubbled up from my subconscious during the night have an opportunity to make themselves known before the chaos of the day, the sensory overload, overwhelmes them.

This morning, from somewhere deep in my memory, came the sounds of Tinderbox, a band from Calgary when I was there seeping up the music scene. Kris Wenzel was the driving force behind the trio, and he’s since forged his solo career playing as Kris Demeanor. He’s got a gift for words, and twists his lyrics with the deftness of a poet.

Lately he’s been performing with the Crack Band, which includes guitarist Chantal Vitalis and bassist Diane Kooch, two of the best musicians I’ve ever met.

Chantal and Di were – in a time long, long ago – two-thirds of Maud, which remains one of my favourite bands. They played surf rock punk with a tinge of pop and were awesome.

One day I’ll tell you about how we once planned for me to sing Tommy Tutone’s Jenny (867-5309) with Maud at a wedding reception.

I just discovered that Kris Demeanor is releasing a new album, go away (with me), this fall. You can preview songs at their MySpace site.

The weird thing is that I know where all this came from, and it’s because I was listening to the new Islands album yesterday, and the chorus of “bones, bones, brittle little bones” from the song Don’t Call Me Whitney, Bobby, sound so much like Tinderbox used to.