Today Scotty organized interviews with the band with journalists. In the small room 917 of the Holliday Inn (Sherbrooke street), Guy, Dave, Hugh and Peter are lying around here and there on the bed and on chairs. The journalists ask questions. VdGG answer. We ask about their opinion about their first tour of Québec. VdGG don't really have a particular opinion. Van der Graaf is band that has done many concerts and tours (all over Europe, many times) and this tour, even though it's in America, is just a step in their evolution. We leave the interview session without any pertinent information (besides the often recited answers to the origin of the band's name, the future plans of the band and other details that Gentle Giant had mocked about on their album 'Interview' but it still gave us a better idea of who are the men that hide behind the myth. There's Dave Jackson who pleasantly surprised me. Always smiling and had always a good word about everyone, he asked about Pop-Rock and insisted that we get him copies of the articles we wrote about the band. On many occasions during the tour I had the chance to speak to him, always being talkative. When he doesn't have his saxes and captains hat, his appearance is a lot less 'heavy metal'. Furthermore, the profession of truck driver fits him quite well. Moreover he told us that he even worked as a driver when VdGG split up for the first time. Hugh Banton remains self-effacing, absent, unless you speak to him. Within his words there is a sense of frankness but also a tone of irony and mockery.

Guy Evans looks malicious. With a prevailing forehead, a thick-set body, eyes fixed and severe. But once he speaks, his friendly almost naïve voice betrays him. He is not a man who makes sensational statements but rather one who confides.

Evidently there is Peter Hammill. Seeing him in front of me, I recalled the long thin body, emaciated hands, eyes demolished but just as deep as the ones who played alone on guitar, singing for a handful of freaks at the Centre Sportif (opening for Genesis), Café Campus and the Cegep de Maisonneuve. Tonight in the lodge, he is never still and his words are a river of spontaneous thoughts that are tied to a conception of the world that terrorizes him at every instant. It only takes an instant of incomprehension between him and his interlocutor to bring him to a stop. However he laughs all the time, as if the passing moment was only a ridiculous illusion. But he will tell you himself: "I am not a deep person. I am not, in reality, the person who tortures himself in my songs. My songs are a way of freeing interior tensions. Once I have finished writing the song, it's no longer a part of me. Actually I think I only say things that everyone has already thought or will think, except I think them once and then say them in public.