Punk rock matriarch still making her way to the front Now in her own spotlight, Gail Halldorson has been supporting her son's band since 1978 By: Eva Wasney Posted: 5:03 PM CST Wednesday, Jan. 15, 2025 Last Modified: 7:50 PM CST Wednesday, Jan. 15, 2025 Updates

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This article was published 15/01/2025 (621 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Gail Halldorson has never been much of an athlete.

She tried various sports in high school but couldn’t find her forte. Basketball was a bust, baseball was no bueno.

“So I went for cheerleading and then I got to go with all the teams,” she says with a booming laugh.

This, it turns out, was a calling. Although she’s long since ditched the pompoms, Gail, now 88 years old, has continued cheerleading in every facet of her life — offering decades of enthusiastic, unwavering support to family, friends and a whole generation of Winnipeg punk rockers.

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The nickname came later, but Gail’s legacy as “Lowlife’s Mom” began in 1978.

She was working as a secretary at Nelson McIntyre Collegiate at the time and wandered down to the school’s auditorium to watch her son, Mark Halldorson, and several classmates play their first gig.

That Mark was even in a band came as a surprise. He didn’t play any instruments and yet, there he was behind the drum kit trying to churn out covers of Iggy Pop and the Ramones alongside an untuned guitar.

“They were pretty wonderful in their own way, but not too practised a group,” Gail says, pausing to find the right diplomatic description.

The band called itself Lowlife and their first show was objectively terrible (an egg may or may not have been thrown), but the kids on stage and off were having a ball.

“They would be shocked to see someone’s mother and I couldn’t blame them because it was unusual, but I treasured it.”–Gail Halldorson

For Mark and co-conspirator Richard Duguay (the aforementioned off-tune guitarist), the experience offered permission to stink. It allowed them to pursue the kind of punk music they idolized — and which didn’t yet have a strong foothold in Winnipeg — without worrying about details such as musical aptitude. That would come later.

“It was pretty ballsy in hindsight,” Duguay says over the phone. “We knew we sucked. We didn’t care, we were having the time of our life.”

The Halldorsons’ basement soon became Lowlife’s practice studio. Mark doesn’t recall having a big conversation with his parents about the arrangement.

“I think I just asked if we could play down there and they said go for it. They were always supportive of anything my sister or I did,” he says.

Gail remembers a bit more cajoling.

“I talked John into it. It bothered him, really, but he was a good sport,” she says of her late husband, who much preferred honky tonk over punk rock.

There were also ground rules: raiding the fridge would not be tolerated.

“They could have tea and toast with peanut butter and that was all they were to take,” she says.

Gail herself was no big fan of loud, roiling music, but she was eager to champion both her kids’ creative endeavours. She also recognized an earnest passion in the young lowlifes.

“They were genuine in a way lots of kids aren’t. They enjoyed it and it was an important part of their life,” she says.

And so, several days a week for the better part of a year, the family’s Norwood home was filled with a cast of angsty, but rule-abiding, teenage punks.

“Everybody was respectful. That’s what my mom and dad were like, they gave you a lot of respect so you gave them a lot of respect back,” Mark says.

Because of this, the Halldorsons were regarded as “the cool parents” among his bandmates. Gail, a keen judge of character with a quick wit, felt a similar fondness for most of Mark’s friends — emphasis on most; she won’t commit their names to print, but could tell who was putting on airs just to get extra tea and toast.

“I’m almost 100 per cent certain that if they hadn’t opened their hearts and home to (us), I don’t know that I would have ever gone further than just being a crappy punk rock band.”–Richard Duguay

While she and John enjoyed chatting and joking around with the boys in the crowded kitchen, they made a point of leaving before noise started rumbling up from the basement.

Even absent, the Halldorsons made an impact by simply opening the door.

For Duguay, the era was especially formative.

“It was a pretty special time, you know; a time of unknowingly becoming a musician for life. I have never forgotten their generosity and kindness (during) what must have been pretty horrible to listen to while we were learning how to play,” he says.

Duguay now lives in Los Angeles and is a full-time musician with an illustrious resume. In addition to playing in many of Winnipeg’s iconic early punk bands, including Personality Crisis, he was a contributor on Guns N’ Roses’ Spaghetti Incident album and has toured extensively with Duff McKagan.

He returns to his hometown Friday for a show at the Pyramid Cabaret with his band the Beautiful Decline. Local outfit Louisiana Cockfight open.

He credits at least some of that success to the Halldorsons. Their home was a haven following his parents’ divorce and Gail, in particular, remained a firm, but non-judgmental figure who inspired accountability during a tumultuous time.

“I was too young and dumb at that age to understand the sacrifice they were making for us, but I’m almost 100 per cent certain that if they hadn’t opened their hearts and home to (us), I don’t know that I would have ever gone further than just being a crappy punk rock band,” Duguay says.

Lowlife didn’t stay crappy for long.

The band — then made up of Mark Halldorson, Duguay, Brad Hrushka and Rick Sprung — started playing bigger and better stages and in 1979 released Leaders, a three-track EP known as Winnipeg’s first punk record that now sells for more than US$200 online.

It was Lowlife’s first and last project, the band split shortly after.

Mark and Duguay went on to play in a dozen other local bands together and could always count on at least one friendly face in the crowd.

Gail’s cheerleading extended to every sleazy, junky (her words) music venue in the city. She was there in the Nelson Mac auditorium and has witnessed every band iteration since. Like any proud parent, she also started collecting records of her son’s achievements and has amassed a personal archive filled with expletive-laden setlists, albums and newspaper clippings.

“She has her own spotlight, rightfully so. I’m quite proud of Gail.”–Mark Halldorson

Though she’s still not a fan of punk music, Gail became a big fan of Winnipeg’s punk scene, which welcomed her with open arms.

“They would be shocked to see someone’s mother and I couldn’t blame them because it was unusual, but I treasured it and it was important to me because there were so many people I got to know,” she says.

After her husband John died, Gail — a “small town girl” from Dauphin — moved to Gimli where she kept a lakeside home and worked the cash at H.P. Tergesen & Sons in retirement.

Still, she frequently made the hour-long drive to Winnipeg to see family and, of course, attend concerts.

Despite being the oldest person in the crowd most nights, Gail never shied away from the fray. She was often accompanied by her daughter Sharon and the pair would elbow their way up to the front of the stage with a drink in hand — what’s the point if you can’t see the action?

Though Gail prefers wine, it felt like a risky drink with moshers and crowd surfers about. Instead, she’d order a bottle of beer — Stella Artois, if available — and nurse it while bopping along to the music.

There was, however, one incident in which a young concert goer had the gall to bump into Lowlife’s Mom. Her friends in the crowd, including the formidable figure of the late Mitch Funk, quickly put the perpetrator in his place.

Another time, she ended up on stage at Wellington’s singing along to a cover of Rock and Roll All Nite with her son’s band, Chain Gang.

“That was a big crowd pleaser,” she grins.

While other young punks may have been embarrassed by their parent’s presence, Mark was delighted to look up from the kit and see his mom wearing a band shirt and dancing away in the front row.

“She has her own spotlight, rightfully so. I’m quite proud of Gail, and I’m pretty lucky, really,” he says.

For Mark, the lifelong support he’s received from family has translated to a strong sense of security and self-confidence. It’s something he’s tried to pass on to the kids he’s worked with as a support worker with Child and Family Services and an educational assistant for students with disabilities.

Mark doesn’t perform much these days, but you can be sure to find Gail front and centre with a beer in hand whenever he does.

In fact, she’s heading to the Pyramid Cabaret tomorrow to catch Duguay play a rare hometown concert. She’s planning an early evening nap to ensure she can rock the night away and is jokingly referring to the event as her “last dance.”

Gail’s advice for parents facing amateur band practices or baffling hobbies? “Give them a chance, get to know them a little bit.”

eva.wasney@winnipegfreepress.com