Who Are the Birds of Bellwoods (and Why You Need to Know)
A father, a son, and a band from Trinity Bellwoods — how one small moment in a Hamilton parking lot sparked a lifelong rhythm.
First and foremost, the Birds of Bellwoods were — are — a group of really cool cats who make really good music.
If you like Mumford & Sons or The Lumineers, you will absolutely love the Birds of Bellwoods.
I discovered them by accident.
After moving into a new house, I was trying to get my young son excited about a new home and a new town. To do that, we started looking for concerts and artists that floated in and out of our area — in and around Brooklin, Ontario.
I wanted to show him that this change was going to be a wonderful chapter in our life. And it has been. But music was the key — getting out, seeing shows, feeling life.
My son is a musician himself now, but it started with the Birds of Bellwoods sitting behind us in that booth.
I would scour their pages looking for shows until finally — a gig popped up in a dive bar in Hamilton.
(And seriously, is every bar in Hamilton a dive bar?)
Anyway, we loaded up the car and drove from one side of the GTA to the other just to see these young guys do their thing.
We arrived around eight, grabbed dinner, and that’s when I realized — they wouldn’t be going on until one in the morning.
One a.m.
Dean was only four or so at the time, and after a full Saturday of teaching karate, I was already half-dead myself.
We were crushed. My son especially.
We decided to stay for a while, watch a few opening acts — none of them great — while the Birds of Bellwoods sat a few booths behind us.
Finally, we decided to call it. Dean was too young, and I was too tired. And my wife still had to drive us home. So we settled on just saying hello to the band before heading home.
The guys were great right away — genuine, funny, kind. They brought him into their booth, put a beer can in the hands of my four-year-old (empty, of course), and let us snap a few pictures.
We thanked them and went back to our booth to settle our tab.
After a moment, Stevie — the front man, who also played Jeremiah Pontelli in Margaret Atwood’s Alias Grace — turned around, almost surprised, and said,
“Did you come all this way just to see us?”
Of course we had.
A couple minutes later we were in the parking lot — the boys pulling their instruments out of an old Volvo or Subaru (I can’t remember). They played for my son right there in that Hamilton parking lot under the glow of the street lamps, and man, it was the best thing they could’ve done.
Growing up, most of the musicians I enjoyed were already dead or too big for you to ever have that kind of experience.
I’m sure that moment led to my son becoming one hell of a drummer at only sixteen years old — but that’s another story.
We went to several shows after that night — the guys always excited to see my boy and how much he’d grown.
When you meet these guys (I call them “boys,” but they’re men) you feel instantly drawn in to their art, their warmth, their love for each other, and for the fans who appreciate them.
COVID killed the momentum they were building — the gigs, the festivals, the posters blanketing the bathroom in the show Workin’ Moms.
Man, I was so excited when I saw their posters on that show. I had no idea two things I enjoyed would come together like that — showing the soul of the city I was born in.
Stevie is the only one of the quartet still trucking. And why not? He’s loaded with talent — part poet, part musician, part actor, and handsome to boot. Why would he want to be anyone else?
The other guys got caught up with life. It’s hard to keep the art going when there are bills to pay.
I just hope they find their way back together. They deserve it.
And if you question my taste in music — no worries.
You know what to do.
Fact Check Me.
I’ll help.
https://www.birdsofbellwoods.com/
https://www.instagram.com/birdsbellwoods/?hl=en