I grew up around guys like this. When you're from a big Italian family in Toronto, these kind of guys were always "around." They smoke too much. Probably drink too much but never really show it. They're always good for a benign dirty joke and an encouraging pat on the head: "You're a good kid, be nice to your mother." Joey's one of these guys. Or, at least, I imagine him that way. 

Joey loves a good story: like the one where he got drunk with Earl Slick after seeing Bowie and the Philly Dogs play War Memorial in Buffalo. Apparently they tried to cross the Peace Bridge on foot, but no one could ever verify that. Or the time he jammed with Tom Waits after a show at the Music Hall in Toronto: Legend has it that they played "The Stranger" by Billy Joel and no one could quite tell if they were joking or serious.

So when he decided to make a record, we couldn't wait to hear it. And to all of us nobodies, it really delivers. A cocktail of swagger, anger, wit and ridiculous enthusiasm. No one but Joey could've made this. This is music is for dancing; for laughing and screaming, each one embarrassingly. It's a sound that makes you wanna put your fist through a wall and then sit back and lick your wounds. It feels good to feel that way. Especially with all the nonsense going on.