San Antonio's long had a sweet spot for Canadian hard rockers Triumph, and the reverse is also true. Indeed, a 1977 show at Municipal Auditorium marked the first sizable U.S. gig for the trio.
Although on hiatus since 1993, save for a few reunions, the band is again in the news thanks to the forthcoming documentary Triumph: Rock And Roll Machine, which will receive its U.S. premiere via the music-centric streaming service nugs.net on Friday, May 13.
Produced by Banger Films (Iron Maiden: Flight 666, Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage), the feature-length doc covers Triumph's rise, breakup and eventual emotional reunion. The nugs.net feature will be preceded by an exclusive Q&A with the band.
Formed in 1975 in Toronto, Triumph was a power trio in the true sense of the word. Guitarist and vocalist Rik Emmett provided high-end vocals and guitar heroics on anthems including "Magic Power" and "Lay It on the Line," while Gil Moore held down the foundation, playing drums and singing grittier numbers such as "Allied Forces" and "Rock and Roll Machine." Bassist Mike Levine was the foil to both: a relatable guy known for ending shows with his signature shout, "Triumph loves you!" That message encapsulated both the band and its approach.
Levine spoke to the Current from his hometown in Toronto about the documentary and the band's long history with the Alamo City.
Triumph got its big U.S. break in San Antonio. The documentary explains that you played Municipal Auditorium, replacing Sammy Hagar on a multi-band bill. What memories of the gig can you share with us?
A lot of them, actually. It was the big gamble that Triumph took. It was 1977. We had one record out and it went gold in Canada. [San Antonio's] KISS-FM was playing the record as an import. We're selling records in San Antone and Corpus, a little bit in Houston. We were playing bars and high schools. A couple of what I'll call concerts, but they were $3 concerts at a place called Ontario Place, which was a summertime venue. It could hold 6,000 or 7,000 people. And the stage revolved! It was the amphitheater there, really screwed up. (Laughs.) So, we had a decision to make. We've got a gig in Buffalo a day or two before when we got the offer to replace Sammy. That was a big cash gig for us because it was 2,500 or 3,000 people in a club. We go, "Are we ready to play the Municipal Auditorium?" It was either 5,600 or 6,300 seats. They had sold half of 'em when we got the call. We're going, "How will we get our gear there? How are we gonna get there? How will we get work visas?" We had a group meeting and said, "You know what? Let's just go for it." We called the promoter back and said, "Yeah, let's figure out a deal. But we're gonna have to rent a ton of gear because we can't get it all there." We figured out a deal, and the show ended up selling out. And it was a pretty amazing gig. That's the preamble to it. When we walked onstage, there's three Canadian guys that were scared shitless. This is big time, right? There was a couple of record company guys showing up. The guy from Mercury Records, Cliff Bernstein, who ended up managing AC/DC and Metallica. But we're there and the gear is not working properly, and everyone's just trying to put things together. But when we walked onstage — the roar from the crowd — we just looked at each other like, "Holy shit!" Everybody's standing up. The balcony looked like it was actually moving with the crowd. We looked at each other and went, "Hmm, this might be pretty cool." Away went the fear. And we played with ultimate confidence from pretty much the first note. It showed us that we could play a big stage and turn an audience on. And that was a learning experience. And the confidence we built from that? Irreplaceable. Or as Mastercard said, "Priceless."
You mentioned concerns about visas. Former KISS DJ Lou Roney told the Current a few years ago that he had to impersonate an immigration attorney to get you into the country. He took records and T-shirts to show you were rock stars and convince the officials to give you visas.
Whatever Lou said he did, I can't deny because I wasn't there. We were able to play our gig in Buffalo with a special visa because it was a border town. For San Antonio we needed what was called an H-1 visa. You have to prove you're a superstar, blah-blah-blah-blah. And you had to be sponsored by somebody in America. They had to do the application for you. So, I guess Lou did the application as part of the deal. Him and — rest his soul — [late KISS DJ] Joe [Anthony] were kind of partners with Joe Miller, the promoter. I guess Lou did his job. I think he probably bragged about it for 10 years.
He seems to be quite a character.
The day our Just A Game record came out [January 10, 1979], “Hold On” was all over the radio, “Lay It On The Line” follows it and is all over the radio, and I get a call from Lou. And he’s saying, “The station is for sale. We need some backers. Do you want to come in, pour some money into this deal?” I said “Well, what’s the price?” It was well under a million bucks, but we didn’t have a lot of money still. Records didn’t sell for much back in those days. They were looking for maybe a quarter-million dolllars. If I woulda had the money, I woulda gone in with them. Three years later, it sold for $12 million dollars. It’s kinda sad that never happened for Lou and Joe. They had raised some money privately, but they just couldn’t get enough.
Can you share an anecdote about Joe Anthony?
Those guys [Anthony and Roney], I call 'em the cowboys. They were a team. What I couldn't believe was when we first got there, and we got to the radio station, it looks worse than a bar band trying to plug things in. There are cords running all over the floor. In those days, KISS was both AM and FM. I think Lou and Joe had noon to six and the rest of the time was religious! Those guys had albums all over the place. They were scattered on the floor. They were everywhere. We're sitting there doing an interview and owned the station for the day, basically. And they bring in some album by some band I never heard of. Joe puts it on, and he listens for maybe — and this is live on the radio — 35 seconds, then takes the arm of the turntable and scratches across the record, pulls it off and throws it against the wall. He goes, "That's garbage. Next!" He didn't like it much. I was like, "Wow, that's pretty serious stuff." And we're rookies here. We're not the big superstars that we probably ended up being. I was like, "Wow, this is what radio's like everywhere?" Well, no. In 1977, there wasn't a lot of album rock radio. Nothing that was like KISS. Scorpions, Rush, Triumph, AC/DC ... Deep Purple. Everything. The experience there was like you went to school. Maybe you were in your third year of college, but we ended up with a master's degree in rock 'n' roll by hanging out with those guys for a day or two.
What is it about Triumph and San Antonio? One theory is that the bands you’re talking about are hard rock, which has a blue collar, working class fanbase. These aren’t bands for East Coast hipsters. What bonded Triumph and San Antonio together for all those years?
Those early days were historical in San Antonio. The bands that were around then — that are still around, as well as Triumph — have some historical significance. We have a song on the first album called “The Blinding Light Show.” It was like eight minutes long and [KISS] played the shit out of it. Nobody played eight-minutes songs on radio. Ever! Unless it was “Stairway to Heaven,” which was not even eight minutes. And it worked! It’s like it was so different. It was quiet, it was kind of avant-garde in its own way, it was advanced, it was kinda plain hard rock as well. That gave the radio station something so entirely different from the normal sound. Radio eventually evolved into a thing where everything had to sound the same, as opposed to being different. And that song was entirely different. And then they played it more and more, because the phones lit up. We were selling records on import. We didn’t have an American record deal, so all the records had to be imported.
San Antonio clearly had an outsize impact on the band’s career.
We did get a thing at the Alamo. They presented us with an award called the Emissary of the Muses. It’s like getting a key to the city. That was a special day for us. We’re standing in front of the Alamo. Ozzy pissed on the Alamo, and we got an award there. It was pretty cool. San Antonio was our second home basically, and it was nice to get that honor.
“Ozzy pissed on the Alamo and we got an award there.” Quite a contrast. The positivity of Triumph was explored in the documentary as well. It’s almost a community building thing. “Hold On.” “Never Surrender.”
That was hard to find, even when we were doing it. We’re different from everybody else. Being different is always good! Well, as long as you can handle it. If you’re too different, you get, “Well, fuck them.” (Laughs.)
Isn’t commercially successful art like that? There’s a line. You challenge that, but you can’t go too far or people aren’t ready for it.
I agree with you. We pushed the limits because we didn’t really care, you know? This is the music we have. If people like it, great. If not, I guess we’ll all have to go to work at McDonald’s.
Banger Films produced the highly successful Rush documentary Beyond The Lighted Stage. Did you have concerns that doing a film with them would be one more thread in the endless string of Rush comparisons?
We did enough research into Banger — and met with them — and they're the gold standard of rock docs. They've done Iron Maiden, Alice Cooper, Rush, ZZ Top. They're very professional. They had a great operation. It's not three guys with cameras. They had a building and a hundred employees. Editing bays, music supervisors, legal people. This is not some fly-by-night company. And they're [Canadian]. I told them, "You're probably the most well-researched people who've ever interviewed me." The questions make you go, "Cut the cameras here because I've gotta figure out the answers. I forgot all about that, you know. I just got reminded of something. It might have been true; it might have been false. But if you guys found it, it's probably true." We put our faith in them. They just said, "Please don't tie our hands. Please don't put something out of bounds. If there's something you guys really don't want to talk about, we'll respect that." And we said, "There's really not much that we can't talk about. It's there. It's not like it's hidden. You guys fire the cannons, and if at some point you guys got way too many cannons, we'll say, 'No we can't go there.'" But that never happened. Well, as far as I know. (Laughs.) I wasn't there when they were talking to Gil directly or talking to Rik directly. It was like, "Let's just do it and let these guys tell the story." There's more to this story than three guys who played in a band that got really big.
Watching the film gives one the impression that your US Festival appearance in 1983 was the high-water mark of the band's popularity.
It was the show of the '80s, really. We had an option not to do it. From a strictly concert point of view, the previous play we had in the Los Angeles area was co-headlining the Rose Bowl with Journey. We did 110,000 people. We were huge in LA, Journey was huge in LA. We tossed a coin to see who was gonna headline. Bryan Adams, who was new, was on the show. We were due for an indoor play. We were gonna put three shows at Long Beach Arena on sale. ... We were a band that made LA work. Radio was all over us. We had to make a decision: do we do the US Festival, or do we do the shows at Long Beach Arena? There were phones going everywhere. We've got [Apple co-founder and US Festival impresario] Steve Wozniak on the other line. We just went, "Wow, it's hard not to do this show." We got nice positioning on the bill. Van Halen No. 1? Yeah. Triumph number No. 2? Yeah. Scorps No. 3? Yeah. Ahead of Priest. Ahead of Ozzy. This show could be something beyond belief. [Wozniak] seriously pursued us to do it. So, we decided to do it. Please apologize to all the people in the parking lot of Long Beach Arena that are buying tickets, you know? It was a tough call. But I'm glad we did it.
One of the moments from the movie that stuck with me is when former Skid Row frontman — and fellow Canadian — Sebastian Bach is talking about the band and he says, “The drummer is the frontman!” That was funny because, in a certain way, you are the frontman. On the Stages live album, you introduce the songs, you introduce the band members. You say, “Triumph loves you!” Which, of course, is the band’s signature sign-off. Is that a sign that Triumph is a real partnership?
I was the ringmaster, like in the Barnum & Bailey Circus. I was in charge of herding the audience. I would keep them on the edge of their seats, or tell them to relax right now. I’d say, "Climb up on your seats now" or “Clap your hands on the left” or “Clap your hands on the right.” I was in charge of the non-musical entertainment for the audience, so to speak.
How does one audition to become the ringmaster for Triumph?
Somebody’s gotta talk to the audience. Rik wasn’t very good at it. Gil was way behind, so it was hard for him. That’s why Sebastian said, “Gil comes out front.” We needed to get him recognized a little bit. But, in general, on an every-show basis, I was out front, I could talk. That was important too. The communication level between the band and the audience wasn’t just musical or emotional. It was also, “Let’s have a good time together.” Thus, the ringmaster.
Another surprising moment from the film was when Gil said, “I never liked my own voice.” How did you feel when he said that?
It’s something that I knew. I was in the control room for 99% of the records. I had to produce everything. And Gil would go, “You know, I gotta go home. I don’t feel good. I’m not singing well. I hate the sound of my voice.” That would happen every once in a while. Then he’d go and hire a vocal coach. And he got better at singing too. But I hate the sound of my voice. I’ll never listen to a radio interview, ever. I hate the sound of my voice. When I hear, “Triumph loves you!” it’s like, “I hate the sound of my voice.”
What happened with the album Progressions Of Power? That one doesn’t have a “Magic Power” or a “Hold On” that carried the live set.
“I Live for the Weekend” was in the show forever. But for that record, we went for a much liver sound. ... There was tape on drums and stuff. That was a great-sounding record, and I loved it. But it sounded like a studio record. We thought it was time to make it a little more energetic and a little more lively sounding. The drums were recorded in a loading bay. Ambient mics were everywhere. It was an experiment. We had record company issues. Personally, I like the record a lot. It’s a question of did it get enough exposure; did the fans really like it? I put my head up and go, “I blame the record company. It’s all their fault.” (Laughs.)
Why did you drop “The Blinding Light Show” from the live setlist as your career progressed?
It came because we had so much more material at that point. You had to make choices, otherwise you’d be playing for much too long. You gotta remember that we’re a three-piece band, and anything more than 75 or 80 minutes, we couldn’t handle. It was too hard to play guitar and sing for Rik for extended periods of time, and play drums and sing if you’re Gil Moore. Me, I didn’t sing. So, it didn’t matter to me; I could have played forever. We had to make choices for the pacing of the show, including whatever the most popular songs were from the most recent albums. It’s kinda like you’re a radio station on stage. You have to eventually drop some songs. It was a long song, and it was the centerpiece of our show for so long that we had to develop some freshness for newer fans who may not even have known that song, you know? It was a matter of programming. How do you program a set and keep interest up, keep it flowing — the highest highs, the lowest lows — and then you build on the way out. That’s what Triumph was about too. It wasn’t just the music. It was the entertainment value and how you can manipulate the audience with what you did.
Sport Of Kings seems no to be a favorite among the band members. And yet, on that tour, “Tears in the Rain” and “Somebody’s Out There,” led off the show. Why give such prominent placement to songs that you had mixed feelings about?
We were like, “I wonder if anybody likes these songs? Are they gonna throw tomatoes at us?” I’m making that up. (Laughs.) On prior records, that’s how we did it too. For example, “Spellbound” and “Follow Your Heart” off of Thunder 7. They didn’t exactly open the show, but, nonetheless, they were prominent. For Sport Of Kings, we decided, “Let’s just showcase this.” I loved that show. I would go onstage early just to watch the opening with the center of the arena. [The lasers] were just projecting. If I were a younger person that was in the audience, I’d go, “This is fucking amazing!”
Rik left the band after Surveillance. If he hadn’t left, where would your career have headed?
Honestly, I don’t have an answer to that question. I don’t know. If Rik hadn’t made that decision, perhaps Gil might have made that decision. Or I might have made that decision too. There’s some interesting stuff in the movie that addresses that, so let’s not expose it. It’s kinda fun to find out. But it’s one of those things where you go to the dentist and get your teeth cleaned and maybe you need a filling. It’s another thing when you go to the dentist and you need a root canal. We had a nice run. We were 12, 13, 14 years [in], whatever that was. It never came to the point where we went to the studio going, “Fuck, this feels like a root canal.” And it’s not because we didn’t like each other or anything. It’s like the tanks were running on empty or something. You can only do so much, and I don’t care who you are. The Rolling Stones can do it because they’ve got Mick Jagger, you know? And Keith Richards can get his blood replaced every two years. And The Who can do their final tour for the 95th time. I went to the first final tour, and I still have my backstage pass for that. I went, “If this is the last time The Who is ever gonna play, I have to be there.” Of course, two years later the tour was still going, and they’re back in Toronto again. And then again. And then again. And again. And again. It never ended. The problem is that those guys got so rich that they all had houses all over the world. They had huge staffs, they had airplanes. They have to keep making big dough. We never made the hundreds of millions of dollars that those guys made. We did good, but we weren’t part of the originators. They were originals. We were kind of the follow-on. You know, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, had they still been alive, would’ve been like The Who and the Rolling Stones.
There were reunion gigs in 2008: the Sweden Rock Festival and Rocklahoma. At the time, there was muttering online that you might fully get back together. What would have to happen to get the three of you on a full tour?
We would need to have the best medical people around us. (Laughs.) All the ails of 70-year-olds that have been on the road to rock ‘n’ roll — playing loud music, sucking in flash powder smoke and dry ice smoke for years — to try to get us well enough to do 30 shows. In 2008, we had 30 shows done in Canada. That were already booked. And there were like 40 shows booked in America at that point. And then the recession hit. And it lasted through 2008, 2009 and most of 2010. When 2011 came, Live Nation called and the individual promoters said, “What do you think?” We went, “Eh, probably not.” We’re now three-and-a-half years older. We’ve got whatever ailments we’ve got, and it was never about the money. It was always about the legacy more than anything. Could we have made a bunch of money? Yes. But it would’ve been embarrassing if we only did half-houses with the recession, with the Rust Belt in the Midwest, even San Antonio. You name it, everyone was hurting. No one can afford to go to concerts when they’ve lost their jobs. It’s horrible. So, we just went, “Let’s take if off the table.” And every year the offers would come in, to go do some stadium shows. And it’s way too much work to do that, to get a crew, rehearse, to go out and do four shows. And it wouldn’t be our show. We’d just be part of a package. It would be like doing another US Festival or something. The fans would want to see us indoors, with the big show, and if we didn’t do it that way, then there’s no point.
What would you like to be Triumph’s legacy?
I’m amazed we have a legacy so far, to be honest. When the band started, if someone told me that some radio station, almost 50 years from now, is gonna play your original records from 1975, I’d go, “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” That being said, because I’m still in touch with all the quote-unquote “radio gurus” that are still around from the old days. They said there’s always gonna be a market for what they call evergreen titles. They say, “You guys have five or six songs that will never go away.” They say, “What happened to rock bands?” I say, “What happened to guitar solos on records?” I feel that we hit a really good time during our career and that everybody was really good. And if you weren’t really good, you got thrown out and you were gone. You had to have a rock star guitar player that could play, that could at least try to compete. You had to have a really good singer. You had to have really good songs. If the song didn’t have a guitar solo, it wasn’t a song anymore. You look at the Eagles. Name me a song that didn’t have a guitar solo in it. They’re the biggest band of all time now, right? Every one of those songs has a guitar solo in it. And every one of those solos has a melody to it. It’s like another lyric to the song. It takes the music to the next level. And that’s what we tried to do with Rik. The guitar solo in “Lay It On The Line” is a defining solo because the fans could sing every lick in it. He and I worked hard on that, figuring that out. There was an Eagles influence, there was a Joe Walsh influence, there was a Glenn Frey influence. It’s still music and it still needs to have that sing along, even though it’s hard rock music. And then radio will play it, and the fans will go, “It goes this way.”
There are emotional, personal moments in the film. It’s one thing to be talking about that stuff, but it’s another thing to know people are seeing it. The film has already been streaming in Canada, and it’s about to premiere in the U.S. How does it feel to know that people have witnessed these personal moments?
I’m totally fine with that. I don’t have an issue at all. If you’re part of the public — which we are —I t’s just the way it is. When somebody comes up and you’re at a restaurant. You’ve got a piece of steak in your mouth and some woman comes over and hits you on the arm and says, “Hey, sign this for my kid!” You want to tell her to go fuck herself, right? (Laughs.) “Wait until I’m finished eating! Have some respect!” But you go, “Please come back,” you know? And then you sign her stuff later. Once you’re a public figure, you have to accept what happens. There’s no way to deny it. It’s kind of like being the president of the United States. You’re always the president of the United States. Mike Levine will never be Mike Levine. He will always be Mike Levine of Triumph. You look at that, and it’s an honor to be there. You have to live with that. You can’t be an asshole. I was at the grocery store the other day. And even with a mask on the butcher came up to me and said, “Hey man, can you sign this?” He had an album. A vinyl album.
What, just laying around? In case you happened to randomly come by?
He knows I shop there! So, I just say, “Sure. Anything else you want me to sign?” I don’t have a problem with that.
Triumph: Rock And Roll Machine, $19.95, premeires at 7:30 p.m., Friday, May 13, available on demand through May 30, nugs.net.
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