Forty years ago, I was a skinny, long haired, bell bottomed, tie-died freak who spent most of his time at our band house in Dorval. Our drummer had a large basement where we practised. His mother was recently divorced and was OK with the noise and the chaos. We were called: The British North America Act. (Now, our single LP is so rare that it is worth $100 U.S. to collectors.)
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