I’m pretty sure it was the summer of 1986, when I was entering my senior year of high school. I was wandering around downtown Toronto with my Nikon SLR camera, looking for artsy pictures to take. This roll of film has plenty of “urban still lifes” on it. But, turning a corner, I bumped into the opposite of a still life. It was a band—three saxophones, bass and drums. Half bopping, half marching, wholly Shuffling. I took this black and white picture of their leader, Richard Underhill, mingling with the crowd.

Without knowing it, I had just been introduced to Toronto’s up-and-coming jazz busking band, The Shuffle Demons. They’d been together for a couple of years by then, but their first album was just out, and their hit, the “bop-rap” (as they call it) “Spadina Bus,” was just over the horizon.

I was into jazz. A friend and I had just started taking saxophone lessons together—with a future member of the Demons, Perry White. I never made it too far as a player, but I had an ear for groovy tunes. (And I definitely had the red beret worn by the cockroach in the video for “Get out of my house, Roach.”)

The Shuffle Demons and I have a 40-year history.

How could the teenager I was that summer have possibly imagined that fourteen years later I would name one of my firstborn sons after an original Demon, Mike Murley?

By the time Mike and I had become friends (through my constant attendance at his gigs in Toronto), he had moved on from the Demons—making room for Perry White. But I’ll never forget that when he came to visit me in New York City in 1994, Mike was still using a Shuffle Demons toothbrush. Yes, the Shuffle Demons had merch.

The band broke up in 1997. But, like all great bands, they got back together, in 2004. Just in time, really. To my great excitement, they came to Kingston to play in the park. This is where the next phase of my Demonic history began. We took the four-year-old twin boys to the park and turned them loose. They bounced and ran straight in among the band, who, despite being nearly twenty years older now, were all still bouncing and running and intermingling themselves. “Spadina Bus” was great, but my kids took up “Cheese on Bread” as their anthem.

I did not know it at the time, but it was the beginning of a noble quest. A decade later, I bicycled with another four-year-old to a street corner in Toronto for a Shuffle Demon encounter. It was then that I realized, “I must take all of my children to see the Shuffle Demons.” That day was one of many father-daughter excursions that year. We were clearing out of the house for a bit while newborn twins napped. My daughter and I danced and clapped, and did some somewhat dangerous spinning (there may have been a scraped knee).

At that moment, I knew that those new twins were on the list for Demonic exposure. I just didn’t know when it would happen. When the pandemic pushed the family out of Toronto to take up residence in Prince Edward County, I confess, I did despair of my quest.

But who knew the power of the PEC Jazz Festival?

Last Tuesday night, my patience was rewarded. My two youngest sons (now 12), their sister (now 16) and I crashed the Shuffle Demons at Huff Estates. (I had to leverage my press credentials.)

“Whoa, this is acoustic,” said one boy. (I’m not certain that’s complimentary.)

Nevertheless, I have achieved the full set. All five of my children have seen the Shuffle Demons!

This colour picture of their leader, Richard Underhill, mingling with the crowd, commemorates four decades of Demonic possession.

Is there anything left?

Between sets, I introduced myself to Mr. Underhill for the first time. I briefly laid out the above and said, “Don’t stop: one of my boys just got married. The quest is now to bring my grandchildren to see the Shuffle Demons!”

He laughed…but he didn’t say no.

I dare to hope! I hear the calling, and I’m certain the Shuffle Demons will be there, bopping, rapping, and Shuffling, keeping us young forever.