Skip to main contentI first heard about the March Fourth! marching band when a downtown dance club decided to add a queer night to its nightlife roster.
Now, I've watched bar owners pull all sorts of stunts to get people through their doors, but this was the first time I could recall anyone hiring a drum line to do the trick.
When did marching bands become so cool?
When I was in high school, marching bands were the desperate, albeit convenient, escape of nerds, freaks and other assorted weirdos (a.k.a. gay pussies) who refused to suffer the punishment of being forced to play a team sport. I never thought it was anything to be proud of, and I didn't know anybody who did, except for Mr. Al Longuski, our band teacher.
Flash forward to last Thursday night at the Crystal Ballroom. Once again, March Fourth! was center stage at another queer-friendly event, this time White Bird's Cockatoo Cotillion. Comprising 30 members (nine drummers, seven horn blowers, an electric bass player, stilt walkers, baton twirlers, dancers and more) this ragtag band of bacchanalian brothers and sisters look like they'd be more comfortable dancing around a campfire than a high society fundraiser.
And that suits one of M4's fearless bandleaders just fine. Although he has helped organize camps at the annual Burning Man event, John Averill can't be considered a queer in the homo sense of the word (he does admit to having "dreams" about men, however, and feels more gay than a lot of homosexuals he's met). This 35-year-old fits the more traditional definition of the "q" word. He's just plain different.
A native of Eugene, Averill worked as a miniature-builder on movies such as Titanic and Power Rangers II ("I don't put that on my résumé," says John) before he was hired locally by Will Vinton Studios. That's where he became an animator on The PJ's. And that's where he was laid off two years ago when The PJ's went down the clay toilet.
With all this free time, the Alberta-'hood-living Averill has kept very busy creating unique theme events (like Burning Man) that include one-off "bands for the night." Like one-night-only wonders Ho-Chi Men, Truffula and Manaconda (which, come to think of it, all sound pretty gay), M4 sprung out of a "show." In this case it was the March 4, 2003, "Chow Yun Fat Tuesday." According to Averill, the troupe was such a hit for everyone involved that all its members decided to band together again at a March 15 peace rally: "What began as a one-off has turned into a crazy roller-coaster ride."
Rehearsing every Monday night, March Fourth! (the much preferred March Forth! moniker is already taken by a couple of Evangelical barbershop quartets) has made only a few public appearances since its early spring inception. Playing everything from Mardi Gras-flavored music to the best of Serbian Brass in mismatched band uniforms, none of its members have seen any real money from the gig. Despite that downside, this ever-growing group seems to be gathering steam.
That might have something to do with the heat it gives off. "(This band) provides an atmosphere where people feel free to express themselves and celebrate the moment," said Averill. "But the most important thing is that our vibe is genuine. It's definitely a spectacle, but one that I think has a lot of soul. Considering all of the negative stuff going on in the world, we're just trying to create some local levity. You know, sing and dance while you have a chance...and March Fourth!"
Tooting your own horn never sounded so fun.
WWeek 2015