DANIEL SEAN
Ghostly Encounters of a Musician Kind

By Michelle Livingstone
(click images to enlarge)

Twelve notes. That’s all there is to music, yet somehow it manages to transcribe, describe, and define the story of our lives. Transcending all levels of consciousness, it removes a person from their place in the humdrum daily grind to a space where one becomes a part of the cosmos, not the carbon cutout who pretends and mostly fails at being an adult human.

It lays you bare. It makes you giggle, jiggle, jump, and snap silly pictures you don't want on social media. It makes you throw yourself into a crowd and hope they’ll catch you. It makes you sad; it makes you play it over and over again until the police come knocking on your door for a wellness check. When that chord hits just right, when the major turns to minor in an effortless contortion and pulls the very soul from you. When the bass line pumps you with finger-flicking energy. When the haunting violin solo makes your very cells whimper. When the gospel choir fills you with bravery and joy. So underestimated, and more potent than we give it credit for.

**daniel sean on deck at cardero’s.** *(michelle livingstone photo)*

Music is our soul, our blood, our very essence. Even our heartbeat is a drum that literally defines the rhythm of our life. And we are babies at it; novices; we learnt from our fellow fauna and nature's physical phenomena. The dawn birdsong, the nighttime foxes wooing their loves, the wolves that call to an unknown realm. The calming, susurrant roll of the surf. The rumble of thunder. The relentless pounding of a rainstorm. We are sound.

Musicians are a special kind of people. They don't fit with the everyday. They seem to exist on a higher plane. One that can transcend dimensions, straddling its careful, poignant notes between something here and tangible and something else, unspoken, wonderful, and hopeful.

Communities of ‘Medium’ on Reddit agree that spirits utilize sound and frequency because non-physical energy aligns well with musical vibrations. In fact, there is an electronic dance music (EDM) genre purported to be the kind of musical structure that can garner a ghostly gang of friends, named Hauntology. I am not sure how you dance to that, but if our editor wants to fund it, I will dutifully go and find out in the name of journalism. (Editor’s Note: Sorry Michelle, but ghost-busting / dancing is not in the budget!)

One generally doesn't equate the Cardero’s Restaurant at Coal Harbour Quay with any ghostly goings-on. Still, it does have a superb musician who, if those wispy whimsies of another dimension had any sense of artistry, would be front-seat, eager listeners. For Daniel Sean is the current king of Cardero’s.

MAKING CARDERO’S A HAPPY HOUR …

Daniel started playing at Cardero’s as a fill-in about eight years ago. He says, “I just showed up and said, 'Hey, do you need a guy?’ They weren't doing music seven days a week yet, but they said, 'Well, maybe we could use you as a substitute. We'll try you out.’ I sat in for one of the main guys there, and they really liked me, so they kept my name on file, and I just kept getting more.”

Despite his obvious prowess, it took eight years to get a steady gig. And as he settles into his now weekly time slot, he says:

“I play the music that I favoured growing up. You grew up with your parents' records, so most of what I have is the ‘70s list; the ‘70s have the best music. People know those tunes really well.”

But his preference for his favourites doesn't interfere with what he perceives the public wants.

**Cardero’s at 1583 Coal Harbour Quay.**

“I walk out between sets, and I look at who I'm singing to. I'll do some more ‘80s. And if I don't feel like singing, I can shut up and make an instrumental.” he laughs.

Born and raised in Regina, Daniel's passion for music began as a toddler, when he first figured out how to use the family stereo and chose Beethoven's Fifth. Perhaps the hard-hitting musicality of that track gave him his love for heavier things and his instrument of choice - the electric guitar. He says of finding his life passion.

“I was probably about five or six years old. I didn't actually pick it up until I was 10 or 11, but I was already into rock bands in kindergarten.”

AT THE CONSERVATORY

In his 20s, Daniel studied music at the Royal Conservatory, focusing on classical and electric guitar. He shows off the classical in his acoustic sets at Cardero’s every Thursday and Friday afternoon, from 3 to 6 p.m. Set against the beautiful backdrop of Vancouver's North Shore mountains, he belts out the songs you know and love; you can sing along or still have the conversation you came for. He blends effortlessly into any situation, feeling, or mood. He can be the star or the background artiste.

Daniel also plays bass guitar, mandolin, and even a dulcimer (an Appalachian instrument). He currently teaches guitar and bass to around 15 students, an eclectic mix of eager learners. His prodigies include a gynaecologist and a trauma surgeon (proving yet again the link between music and therapy), a ten-year-old girl grooving on electric guitar who vibes to Beethoven and is doing her Royal Conservatory of Music studies, and a 60-year-old bass player who loves watching Danzig.

This is perhaps where Daniel feels he fits best. Despite his classical ability, he is most comfortable expressing himself on the metal guitar. His musical dreams dangled a carrot when he was asked to audition for Ozzy Osbourne as a guitarist, he says:

“I was cherry-picked for the audition and flown to Hollywood to do it.”

He didn't get that gig, sadly, but Hollywood's loss is our gain, as it gave him the chance to leave Regina and move to Vancouver. And he more than makes up for it by performing in the band, Kick Axe.

Formed in 1976 in Saskatchewan by Victor Langden (bass) and Gary Langden (drums/vocals) with Larry Gilstrom on guitar, Daniel took over as vocalist in 2009, when Gary didn't want to relocate to Vancouver with the band. Larry's brother, Brian, took over the drums, and the Vancouver metal scene welcomed them in their new lineup. Daniel has been the frontman ever since. Having already produced four albums, they have been busy in the studio this past year recording their most recent album, tentatively called One More Sin.

Daniel says, “We recorded enough material for a full release, but it's not completed because our main guitarist passed away.”

Larry Gilstrom sadly passed in August of 2025. Daniel continues:

“The music's in the can, but we have a lot of work to do. We have to finish it without him. I want to redo some vocals. Hopefully later this year, but it might look like 2027, so there are no kick-ass gigs this year. I don't want to speculate or put it into anybody's head that we're going to be back. But if we do come back, it's going to be me on lead vocals again, but I'll also be on the guitar.”

Daniel Posing In Nature's Very Own Spotlight

ANOTHER DIMENSION

With long, fiery hair and dressed in the ubiquitous metalhead garb of a T-shirt and jeans, Daniel's casual, easy stance oozes the very essence of his profession. And as we chat about all things music, he mentions, quite casually, that he speaks to ghosts.

“I've conversed with ghosts face to face, not full conversations, of course; they're a little one-sided,” he jokes.

He tells me the story of a night when he stayed over at his girlfriend's house, who had just lost her mother.

“I got up, as one does to use the facilities, and this little, little lady walked out of the bathroom - they look like holograms, by the way - and I stopped; we acknowledged each other. I bowed to her and said, ‘Hello.’ She smiled, and disappeared into nothing down the hallway. And I thought to myself, I just talked to a dead person.

“I felt other presences that weren't friendly. I've had arguments with them, telling them to get out. The air smells sulphurous. You’re familiar with sleep apnea, where you can't breathe, and you think something's pressing on you? That's them. The last time it happened, I woke up, threw the blankets off me, and said, ‘Come on, let's go.’ I challenged it directly, and it didn't bother me again.”

A braver person than I. Not fazed in the slightest by other entities that may have less-than-desirable wishes, he keeps pushing the spiritual envelope. He tells me about the time he spent the night in the Fort Qu'Appelle Sanatorium in Regina, more commonly referred to as ‘Fort San,’ which closed its doors in the 1970s and was completely demolished in 2019.

“Lots of children died there. A lot of nurses as well, because it was just too depressing for them. They tore the hospital down, and you could spend the night there. I did that a couple of times with a group. You lie in one of the patients' gurneys; I could see the shapes of old nurses' hats, barely visible silhouettes walking by the windows of my room. You can always tell when they enter the room. You remember an old big phone book? Slam it on the floor - that's the sound it makes when they cross over. That's when they come in. Boom, they announced themselves. They're not subtle.”

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF A MUSICIAN …

Not one for shying away from the more heart-racing things in life; one of Daniels' life wishes is to go cage diving with great white sharks. I suppose when you converse with dead people as much as he does, great whites are nothing. Along with this sphincter pincher, he adds something a tad safer: a visit back to his original roots in the Emerald Isle.

In closing this piece, I refer to Daniel's final song, which he often plays at his Cardero gigs - “A Day in the Life” by The Beatles. A difficult song; he makes it look incredibly easy, and his talent really shows. I like to think his guitarist friend Larry and Ozzy are watching from the sidelines, kind of like Canada's Got Talent but with spectral judges.

I am sure they are, as are all his other-realmed friends. One thing is for sure: music is very powerful, out-of-this-world, in fact.