Salt Spring Island's Rock & Roll Show
Gasoline Alley is a Salt Spring Island supergroup forged from decades of stage miles, smoky back rooms, and a shared love of groove-driven rock ’n’ roll. Rooted in the blues but allergic to stale classic-rock autopilot, the band delivers a carefully curated set built for dancing, sweating, and boogie-ing long past last call.
Powered by seasoned veterans and a shot of fresh swamp-born energy, Gasoline Alley isn’t your typical cover band. Expect gritty tone, deep pocket rhythms, and songs reworked with personality, grit, and just enough raunch to keep things dangerous.
Wayne Stadler (drums) toured Canada with Mercury/Universal recording act Zuckerbaby, laying down the kind of rock-solid groove you can build a house on.
Dave Lettinga (vocals) is a veteran performer and recording artist (Damn the Diva, Broken Condom Babies, Boy Girl Radio) who has lit up Salt Spring stages for over a decade with local favourites The Coalition.
Duff Masterson (guitar) — producer, songwriter, and East Coast rocker — brings arena-seasoned tone, recently performing with Canadian star Chrissy Steele (Headpins).
Jesse Blanchette (bass) emerges after 20 years of musical solitude in the Vesuvius woodshed, delivering low-end thunder with north-end grit and swamp-fueled attitude.
This isn’t an “original metal band stare-at-your-beer” situation. The Alley runs on boogie, swagger, and a carefully procured setlist designed to keep hips moving and floors shaking. Think swamp rock, blues grit, and classic tunes re-imagined with muscle and mischief. Bring your dancing shoes!
Gasoline Alley is equally at home firing up outdoor summer festivals, biker-friendly rock shows, dance halls, community gatherings, and anywhere people prefer moving their feet over sitting politely. Not limited to any one scene, the band brings the same swampy swagger whether the crowd arrives in leather vests, flip flops, or rubber boots.
A bunch of seasoned players with plenty of GAS left in the tank.
Gasoline Alley is available for shows year-round.
Our Next Show!
The Band
Guitars & Vocals
Born in Peterborough and raised mostly in the rugged stretches of the Ottawa Valley—with a heavy dose of Petawawa thrown in for good measure—this self-proclaimed “forces brat” learned early that home is wherever the boxes land. Moving around builds character… and an intense hatred of snow and chronically grumpy people. That frosty combination eventually drove a strategic retreat west to Salt Spring Island—but not before a chance conversation in Yellowstone National Park with legendary wildlife artist Robert Bateman nudged the compass firmly toward a more creative life.
The origin story gets louder from there. One day, his father brought home a Yamaha acoustic guitar. Mild curiosity followed—until Van Halen’s debut album detonated in the speakers and all hell broke loose. Since age 13 (a modest 47 years ago), six strings have been less of a hobby and more of a lifelong accomplice. Musical loyalties remain proudly with Van Halen, Pink Floyd, and ZZ Top—the holy trinity of tone, swagger, and unapologetic volume.
Philosophically? He subscribes to Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken,” because obviously the well-traveled path rarely comes with a decent guitar solo.
And if you’re buying the next round, make it a pint of Guinness—or a scotch old enough to order itself at the bar.
Lead Vocals
Born in Sechelt, B.C., and raised in the mist and moss of Robert’s Creek, he grew up where the cedars lean close and the FM radio crackles like a campfire sermon. One late night, Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” came crawling through the speakers — slow, heavy, and undeniable — and by morning he had commandeered his mother’s acoustic guitar and begun a lifelong campaign of musical abuse.
Salt Spring Island wasn’t part of the original tour itinerary. It happened when real life stepped in with diapers, daylight, and responsibility. Faced with the reality of raising a daughter on a rock band income, he traded neon noise for Gulf Island fog and driftwood horizons — though the amplifier never got the memo.
He’s been playing since fifteen (and insists it’s only been ten years ever since), brewing a sound that smells like damp cedar, hot tubes, and a whiskey glass sweating on a scarred wooden bar. His holy trinity: The Beatles for the melody, Black Sabbath for the weight, and Jellyfish for the sweet, strange sparkle in between.
He lives by the words of Lucius Beebe:
“The disfavour of envious inferiority is a bootaneer a gentleman can wear all day without fading.”
Buy him a drink and you’ll make a friend: whiskey first, tequila second, and an Old Fashioned if the night’s long and the stories are getting better with every round.
Play it loud. Play it slow. Let it swamp.
Drums
Born in Hope and raised in Chilliwack—where he went to high school with Dave—a couple of stints in Alberta resulted in some musical adventures but he never really strayed far from his BC roots. Life eventually took on wheels, complete with southbound winters and an adventureous RV lifestyle, but when that chapter hit a forced plot twist recently, the universe (and Dave’s landlord) conspired beautifully. A well-timed call, an open landing spot, and a long-standing love for Salt Spring Island sealed the deal.
The musical awakening began innocently enough with FM radio—after a friend named Paul introduced him to the “dark side,” far beyond the sugary Top 40 AM playlists. Once heavier rock hit the bloodstream, there was no going back. He started out pounding rudiments into the mattress of his bunk bed while lobbying the parental board of directors for an actual drum kit. Then the holy trinity rewired his DNA: Led Zeppelin via John Bonham, The Police’s creativity through Stewart Copeland, and AC/DC’s groove courtesy of Phil Rudd. He may have started “late” at 13 (a mere 45 years ago), but the beat’s been steady ever since. Top-tier loyalties remain with Led Zeppelin, The Police, and Soundgarden—because subtlety is overrated.
His personal mantra? “There’s a deeper philosophical reason why windshields are big and rearview mirrors are small.”
And if you happen to be buying, make it a darker local beer—or a decent whiskey with a splash of cola.
Bass & Vocals
Born and raised on Salt Spring Island—arriving literally via his mother’s womb—he’s about as local as the arbutus trees. Though he did a six-winter exile in Thunder Bay during the gloriously frozen ‘90s (when winter actually meant something), the Pacific had already salted his DNA. Yes, Thunder Bay sits on Lake Superior—the biggest lake in the world by surface area—but no inland sea could compete with the mild, mossy pull of the West Coast. The ocean called. He answered. He never went back. Frostbite builds character; ocean air builds destiny.
Musically, he was forged in metal. At ten years old he wasn’t just listening to heavy music—he was studying it like sacred scripture. Drums came first, thanks to the ferocity of Slayer’s powerhouse Dave Lombardo and the precision brutality of Death legend Gene Hoglan. Then came guitar, chasing riff-lord status in the shadow of Metallica’s own right-hand juggernaut James Hetfield. But lurking in the low end were the true heavy sages: Flea, Les Claypool, Steve DiGiorgio, Justin Chancellor, Robert Trujillo, and of course Geezer Butler. By 2019 he grabbed a bass and never really looked back—these days the guitar mostly gathers dust while the low frequencies do the talking. Current rotation? Ghost, TOOL, and Death (ask again next week and it’ll change).
Philosophically, he rolls with Mike Tyson’s wisdom: “Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Life swings hard—so enjoy the headbanging between rounds.
And if you’re buying, Keep it simple: beer or tequila. No garnish. No nonsense. Just rock.