This is a story about four singer/songwriters from four very different parts of the universe; an 80-year-old church in the north end of Hamilton, and Dave Rave's 1997 Dodge Grand Caravan.

That's right. Dave Rave, former frontman for Teenage Head and the Shakers, drives a family van. He doesn't have any children, isn't even married. But he's very much a family kind of guy. He keeps adopting stray musicians and bringing them home to Hamilton. It's an extended family that seems to grow every day.

Joe Mannix, an underground icon on the New York folk scene, is crashing in the basement of Dave's mother's West Hamilton home. So is Dave. There's no room for ex-Payolas lead singer Paul Hyde, who flew in from Vancouver Sunday, so Hyde's taken room at a local hotel. It wouldn't be appropriate to put up Kate Schrock on a basement floor after she drove all the way from Portland, Maine, so she's staying with a friend of Dave's at a farm near Copetown.

Dave met the farmer through Glen Marshall, co-owner of Catherine North Studio in Hamilton. Marshall helped produce the latest albums by Rave, Schrock and Mannix. So did Rave. Hyde has a new album, too, but that was made in Vancouver.

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Back to the van. Rave has a nickname for everything (some unprintable). He calls the van Carlotta. It's teal green. He bought out the lease three years ago. It's now got more than 200,000 miles on it. When he decided to bring his friends together for a tour of small theatres and clubs in the U.S. and Canada, he decided to name it after his van. The "Carlotta Tour" didn't really work, but "The Grand Song Caravan" did. So that's what it is. And it's coming to the Staircase Theatre Friday and Saturday nights. Hyde, Schrock, Mannix and Rave playing alone, together and with a fine group of Hamilton musicians backing them.

Rave, known to his mother as Dave Desroches, has mellowed out over the last few years. There's even a string section on his new CD, Everyday Magic, an eclectic mix of catchy pop tunes, swamp howls and pastoral pleasers. The vocal harmonies take you back to the Everlies or the Beatles. There are moments when it brings tears to your eyes.

Rave's always on the move. He's his own private dancehall, perpetually in motion, arms, legs, especially lips. Lately, he's taken to hanging out with the acoustic singer/songwriter set. Maybe it's a factor of age. He's pushing perilously close to 45. A lot of ex-punks like Rave and Mannix have become minor heroes on the New York "anti-folk" scene (it's still difficult for New Yorkers to admit to being folkies). They're selling out clubs in Brooklyn and Soho.

"He's like a lightning rod for singer/songwriters," Marshall says about his friend Rave over breakfast and lunch at Sisters deli in West Hamilton. Rave is sitting in the booth across from Marshall, taking in the compliments. Mannix is next to him, confirming all the buzz. It's true, Rave has found respect in the Big Apple. So has Marshall.

Marshall was staying at Peter Yarrow's Manhattan apartment (remember Peter, Paul and Mary?), producing an album for Bethany Yarrow, when Rave introduced him to Mannix. They jammed all night in that beautiful highrise, picture window overlooking the city, getting a dozen songs on tape and making a commitment to return to Hamilton to produce a CD.

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Now, about that church. It was once called the Redeemer Korean United Church until Chris Bromwich, former keyboard player for the band Vehicle, bought it five years ago. Bromwich started converting it into a recording studio, but a disability got the better of him. When he heard Marshall and his partner Dan Achen were looking for a new home for their Catherine North Studio, he gave them a call. Bromwich still lives in a 2,000 square foot apartment in the church basement, but Marshall and Achen have taken over the ground floor.

They brought in Daniel Lanois's brother Bob to wire the place, built a stage where the altar once stood. It's got a ton of sand underneath it, piled atop a lining of rubber engine mounts to deaden the vibration of the drums. The walls are triple-brick. Three panes of stained glass flood the room with coloured light. Eighteenth century oil paintings adorn the walls. There's oriental rugs, carved pews, overstuffed couches (those fuzzy burgundy one), comfy chairs and coffee tables. No walls, no sound booths, but lots of instruments and gadgets. There's an assortment of microphones dating back to the 1940s, keyboards everywhere, including an 1887 church organ, a four-inch analogue tape deck, sound board and a computer, too. It's a musician's playroom.

It took a great degree of trust to lure Mannix to Hamilton, as it would later with Schrock. Both had always done things themselves. What they found at Catherine North was total freedom to explore, create and collaborate. No time pressures, no styles, no posing, no negatives. They did find lots of new friends, all of them talented.

"It was really strange," recalls Schrock about the 10 days of sessions at Catherine North that produced her new CD Indiana. "We'd be sitting around working on a song, and then somebody would say what we need is so-and-so on this track. They'd make a phone call and five or 10 minutes later somebody new would show up."

At one point Tom Wilson (Junkhouse, Blackie and the Rodeo Kings) dropped by. He was immediately conscripted into the project.

"I didn't know who he was, but I knew he was somebody important just by the way people reacted to him." Schrock says about meeting Wilson. "We knew we needed a male vocal (for the song If Loving You). And he was better than I could have imagined."

Schrock gets airplay on NPR and making some breakthroughs in the tough Boston radio market.

Mannix has spent a lot of time studying the music scene in both New York and Austin, Tex. He was shocked at the high calibre of musicianship he found in Hamilton.

"I told these guys (Rave and Marshall) 'I don't think you realize what you have here,'" Mannix says about recording his CD White Flag at Catherine North. "No pretension or attitude. I felt this was the real deal. No hype, just the purity of musicians."

Producer Marshall likes to record things right off the floor, basically live.

"It puts an urgency to the music," Marshall explains. "It's going down, and all the musicians know it."

That kind of recording will pick up a few blemishes, some offkey vocals (especially in Rave's case), but it also picks up those magical moments that can't be recreated, even with digital software (especially in Rave's case). The musicians are all-Hamilton: Paul Panchesak, Claude Desroches, Jack Pedler and Ray Farrugia on drums; Keith Lindsay on keyboards; Bill Becker on guitar; Peter Ribhany on bass. A dose of Teenage Head, a dash of Trickbag and a sprinkle of Junkhouse.

Marshall and Rave found themselves co-writing songs on both Mannix and Schrock's albums. Rave's contribution to the bridge on Schrock's title track is brilliant. Schrock returned the favour, singing, writing and playing piano on Rave's album. So did Marshall.

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Back to van. Rave's Dodge Grand Caravan was parked at a friend's place on the outskirts of New York earlier this year. Rave was playing at something called the International Pop Overthrow at the Arlene Grocery Club in Soho. It was a showcase for independent Vancouver-based labels like Bullseye (Rave's) and Bongo Beat (Mannix's and Hyde's).

Hyde scored five gold and platinum records with the Payolas back in the new wave/punk era, but he hadn't recorded much since he split with his super producer/partner Bob Rock about 10 years ago. He flew to New York to play at the Pop Overthrow show. The inevitable happened. Hyde got on stage with Rave. Enter a new addition to Carlotta's extended family.

So here they are, four fine singer/songwriters, all cloaked in the coloured light streaming in from the Catherine North windows. Last night they dashed off for a show at the Velvet Elvis in Oshawa. Tomorrow it's Reader's in Dunnville. Then it's the Staircase in Hamilton Friday and Saturday before heading to the Hughes Room in Toronto Sunday. Truely, a Grand Song Caravan. Thanks Carlotta.