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CD4 Whore's Breakfast

Whore's Breakfast is a concept album, a seedy gritty city album, an album about love, excess, obsessions and substance abuse, an album about coffee and cigarettes and self-destructive denizens of the outer fringes of the art scene and the drug world. It is a very personal reflection and confessional of a long-time substance abuser.

Based around the core sound of guitar bass and drums Whore's Breakfast takes a decidedly punk attitude towards prog and jazz. The sound is relentless but is tempered with the softer contrasts of five-part vocal harmonies, chord solo jazz guitar pieces and a myriad of keyboard textures, all of which serve to create dramatic contrasts and some moments of peaceful illuminated clarity against the otherwise sweaty frenetic head-trip.

The album originally had the working band planned to record, but with the death of keyboardist Guy LeBlance, the band took a hiatus. David then recorded a series of life-reflecting songs. When he was done he realized he had recorded yet another Rebel Wheel album. This then is the first album The Rebel Wheel has done that is essentially a solo album.

This is the first album released with Germany's Rostfrei Records and clearly shows the evolution of their sound as they stumble closer and closer to a hard-core punk-jazz approach.

The CD is out of print but the digital version of album is available at the the Rebel Wheel online store and at Germany's Rostfrei Records .

To download a pdf of CD4 lyrics go here or scroll down this page.

To download a zip file of CD4 artwork go here or scroll down the page

To download a zip file of CD4 sheetmusic go here.

Album Tracks

Cousin Rachel

A jazz chord solo dedicated to a very dear friend who has walked similar paths only to end up with me in some field in the country-side watching falling stars together.

Five and Dime

This song has a Crimson-eque Neurotica feel incorporating fast walking bass lines and aggressive angular riffs. It, like most of the album is about drugs and the seedier side of life. This tune probably has more meter shifts than any other Rebel Wheel tune.

Insecticide Part One

A straight ahead rocker, this tune is about another Whore's Breakfast theme: lost love.


Based on Gabriel García Márquez' book, "Love In The Time Of Chorlera", this song fuses the two central thems of the album (drug addiction and lost love) into one spectacular 5/4 outing.

Insecticide Part Two

An aggressive instrumental to begin with, the odd-meter frenzy mellows out towards the end and a song to a lost friend emerges. The melody is doubled by a bass guitar against quickly arpeggiated dissonant chords.

Watching Kathy Dance

Another jazz guitar chord solo dating from 1981. It is a simple observation that amid the all the frenzy of drug-use, sometimes the only oasis is to watch a pretty woman dance alone to a song she might only hear herself.

Satori In Bayshore

The opening five-part vocals are definitely inspired by The PepTides (a band David played with for years and where he met bassist Andrew Burns and drummer Alex Wickham). The keyboard solo in the middle section was the only track Guy was well enough to play on.

Dream Of Stones

Taken from T.H.White's "The One and Future King", this tune features a relentless 7/8 hard edged groove, one which drummer Alex Wickham has nailed to perfection

An Infinity of Mirrors

Back in 1980 David recorded an all-night jam where he and lots of illicit substances spent the night together alone with his band's gear. It was a heavenly experience and one that shaped his musical path. This song is teh re-telling of that night with totally improvised drums (two parts no less) two basses and two guitars. It segues in and out of a tune written in 1981 based on Steppenwolf's Haller who always knew where the razor was kept.

Whore's Breakfast Part 2

Whore's Breakfast was a piece David wrote in a hotel room in Brockville Onatrio back in 1982. Returning from two years in British Columbia, David was writing symphonic material but unable to have his ideas realized by a 64 piece orchestra, he elected instead to consume copious amounts of illict substances and play his ratty old acoustic guitar. This part is the second of the two he wrote back then. The first was featured in the Rebel Wheel debut CD as the first instrumental section of Crystal Rain Suite.

The Reward Of Sisyphus

Back in 1981 David's friend Bill Greer loaned him his 1959 Telecastor. This song was the result and is decidedly the most straight ahead rocker The Rebel Wheel has ever done. The lyrics were written in 1979 during David's Vancouver stint with the punk-jazz ensemble 3C-236. The bridge music and lyrics were written in 2013 and are further portraits of the subject of track one. It and Insecticide One sound like Bag Of Snakes era Rebel Wheel.

Whore's Breakfast

An edit of both parts of Whore's Breakfast melded together for the first time.

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Album Art

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Whore's Breakfast Lyrics

Five & Dime

Run, rant, rage, foaming at the mouth Fist,

strike, fast, flowing into now

Clear morning light, fractured veins, I'm alive, I'm alive!

Five and dime, its a five and dime. x4

Tear, rip, race, sweating through the sheets

bend, twist, pace, following the streets.

Clear cloudless night, tortured souls,

I'm alive. I'm alive!

Five and dime, its a five and dime. x4

Insecticide One

Caught your eye and a glimpse of heaven then it seared into my mind

when all we have is dignity left everything behind

I lost the thread, lost my head, lost my place,

now my face no longer belongs to me

Come with me, we'll walk into the future and we'll give our past away

I really can't change circumstance but we're both here today

I lost the thread, lost my head, lost my place,

now my face no longer belongs to me

Seasons change and the sun sets early now, it's been quite the ride

it's really not coincidence the way our lives collide

I lost the thread, lost my head, lost my place

now my face no longer belongs to me

Dream Of Stones

Took too long to look at the sun, metal glints as you load the gun: too late for you

Draw the blinds and sweep up the trash, Beer can bed and cigarette ash, wait for you.

You feed her rage. Gilt-lined the cage.

Twist the lip and fire up the high twisted face the smoke in your eye, grace for you.

Needles spent the marks on your arm, vacant stares and silent alarms, wasting you.

Call down the clouds. Draw the black shrouds. Lay the gold trap

Light slows down and comes through the glass, distant storm and hurricane blast, come for you.

Finding out the unkindest truth, empty words and all of your youth, paid by you.

Call down the clouds, Draw the dark shrouds. lay the gold trap.


There's a ring of stale beer on the table, and the ash-tray's apt to overflow.

Outside I see traces and trails of light in the afternoon.

Limping dog in Vancouver city. Left-over girls in the greying room.

I'm not given to conditions lightly. I can always bend light into blue.

I could never write a letter everyday, nothing like a "Love in the Time of Cholera"

But as years unfold and passion never fades, I could never stay but neither stay away.

I feel shudders as tomorrow hits me, collides with the ghosts of yesterday.

Short walk to buy matches, count my pennies and leave the ruins.

A dead cat lies in Toronto. Smoking roaches in Barbera's room.

I'm not eager to disturb these ashes, bone-shards and the teeth that never burn.

I could never write a letter everyday, nothing like a "Love in the Time of Cholera"

But as years unfold and passion never fades, I could never stay but neither stay away.

Did you love me? Did you want me? Will you mend me? Can you make me whole?

Lung burst, breathless, crash down into Parkdale.

Hope-less play for Love amongst the ruins.

I wish I could write a letter everyday, something like a "Love in the Time of Cholera"

And as years unfold and passion never fades, I wish I could stay or even stay away.

Satori In Bayshore

Gently poised in make believe, fall softly into sleep

In urban mediocrity and there our souls to keep.

Is anybody listening? does anyone still care?

On both sides of the blue screen zombies have gathered there.

The Reward Of Sisyphus

Got stains on my fingers I smoke too much I got no memories I got no Hope

I'm here right now I don't fool myself this is what the fight was for.

Be here now appreciate.

We take the toils of father's past and build our cities upon their ruins.

I'm here here right now, I don't fool myslef this is what the fights been for.

Be here now appreciate.

I walk alone in the night. Paths I didn't take. I am the last of a kind. Only one awake.

We sit alone in the night. I close my eyes We are the last of a kind. Watch the sun arise.

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