feature: one community inside another

Slouching comfortably on his padded bar stool, Ryan Barton checks his Facebook on one computer screen, before doing a quick read through of the playlist that’s open on the other monitor. The radio personality hovers over a high tech board of bright red buttons, and freezes for a moment as the song that’s playing through the luxurious stereo speakers begins to wind down. As soon as the last guitar riff cuts out, he pounces on the button labelled “Mic,” and dives into a recap of the last few songs. After hyping up the station’s name, Barton then pulls out a cue card and tells listeners about something called Operation: Keep The Change. While his lavish surroundings may not reflect it, the disc jockey has just delved into a very serious issue.

In a year where the lines at the Fredericton Food Bank have already gotten 3% longer, Executive Director Elizabeth Thurber and her volunteers are bracing for yet another increase on the chalkboard behind her. It tracks the number of people who use the Food Bank monthly, and it appears as though each time the calendar flips, more and more families are in need of their help.

“Our numbers in 2010 have been between 800-900 families a month,” said Thurber, twiddling a green pen between the fingers of her left hand. “Last year we were serving 750-800 families, so there has been that increase from year to year.”

Cluttered is a word to describe the organization’s modest work space; boxes are piled down the length of one wall, while a nondescript desk with an outdated computer perched on top, and with a mess of papers and envelops around it constitutes an office. Thurber puts the pen down and turns to the bristolboard schedule at the other side of the room. Her glasses and the wrinkles that adorn her eyes give the middle aged woman a look of wisdom beyond her ears, as she explains what she expects to be another rise in the number of Fredericton families who depend on the services provided at 860 Grandame Street.

“The significant increase has been coming since the 2007 year, when the recession hit,” said Thurber. “So from 2007 when we were doing 650 families, to now, where we’re doing over 900 – that’s the trend,” she said. “Trying to keep food is very, very difficult.”

It becomes even more difficult during the holiday season, especially with initiatives like Christmas hampers and turkey dinners in addition to the usual order. According to their own records, the Fredericton Food Bank helped an average of 825 families a month in 2009, but December of that year produced a figure of 1068. Despite a rise of roughly 29%, Thurber says the Food Bank doesn’t need to worry “until January,” thanks to the efforts of some smaller groups within the community. One of those groups is the city’s tightly knit musical scene.

Keep The Change

After finishing his PSA and restarting the music, Barton fills me in on the station’s holiday initiative, Operation: Keep the Change. Now in its fifth year, the project puts dozens of spare change jars in the hands of businesses, teams, and groups, pooling all of the collections on the weekend before Christmas. According to the station’s website, Keep The Change has raised over $100,000 for the Salvation Army, Fredericton Food Bank and Community Kitchen.

“It’s a real community effort, and it’s uplifting to see people come together like this,” said Barton. “As nice as it is to receive gifts at Christmas, it’s a whole other feeling to give a gift that someone truly needs and appreciates.”

The clean cut, twenty-five year old disc jockey says that the reason members of the Fredericton music community have stepped up is rooted in a sort of universal balance.

“I think that it’s simple,” said Barton. “If you want people to support your efforts, whether it be by going to a show or buying a CD, etc, I think you have to support theirs as well,” he said. “Call it Karma, or whatever, but if you help when your community is in need, your community will help when you’re in need.”

For Barton, the motivation resides in the feeling of belonging that the initiative gives him – both to the music community and the city at large.

“Keep the Change is a chance for me to give back to a community I very much enjoy being a part of,” he said. “The best stories, for me, are when kids come by to throw in whatever change they have – whether it’s their allowance or otherwise,” he said. “When I was kid, anytime I got a couple bucks, all I could think of was what I was going get at the store.”

He says that facing adversity is natural, but efforts like this put things in perspective.

“Something like Keep The Change helps keep me grounded and reminds me of what really matters,” Barton said. “Because people in the music community are often times all too familiar with what it’s like to struggle, it’s easy to relate.”

“A heavy time of year”

A peak through the windows of The Capital Complex on Queen Street reveals a very empty space. Aside from a couple of wooden high chairs by the bar, some extension cords on stage and the eerie glow of a floodlight, the room is still and bare. On December 16, however, the hardwood floors and brick mortared confines of the Capital will become significantly less vacant, as six local musical acts assemble to play the bar’s annual Christmas benefit show.

Rob Glencross and Jon Bowie make up half of one of those bands, the Westerberg Suicides. Glencross, a shaggy looking twenty-something, says the importance of the show is in helping out the less fortunate in the area.

“This can be a very heavy time of year for a lot of people – especially those who don’t have a lot themselves, and even less to give to others,” said Glencross. “We look at the show as an opportunity to have a good time with friends, and to give something back to the community,” he said. “It’s important for me,” Bowie added, “because my wife and I have volunteered at the food bank in the past, and we’ve seen firsthand that people need help all year round.”

The two are no strangers to the commercial aspect of the holiday season, but Glencross feels that shows like this are the best way that he, as a musician, can help overcome that outlook.

“Whenever I head into the malls, it seems like the spirit of Christmas is lost,” he said, a sad looking glow now resonating in his quizzical eyes. “I see so many frustrated people, but then I think about the folks that can’t even put a half decent meal on their own table sometimes.”

As members of the local music community, both men feel an obligation to step in and use their own talents to help out the Fredericton community at large – especially at this time of year.

“I believe that one owes their community a certain amount their time or talent,” said Bowie. “If what you do is play music, than when a call comes out to play music for a charity or a group in need, well, why wouldn’t you? It’s a no-brainer,” he said, a smile creeping through the five o’clock shadow that dominates his face. “For me,” Glencross added, “putting together a show that we can send out to people who aren’t thinking about the big things of Christmas… If they can get some potatoes and carrots and turkey for Christmas, it’s amazing,” he said. “It’d be great if we could do that every day, every week, but Christmas… Christmas is big.”

“There are interesting dynamics in the community,” said Thurber in regards to the efforts of groups within Fredericton’s population, like the city music scene. Long after the volunteers of Operation Keep The Change stop collecting, and the last chord is struck at the annual show at the Capital bar, groups like the Food Bank will still need the community’s support. In the meantime though, some selflessness and good music are working to ease the “heavy” feeling out of the Holiday season.

feature: q&a with hannah georgas

In the midst of a massive Canadian tour, Hannah Georgas took some time to sit down with (tfc) in the serial-killer-lair-ish basement of the Capital Bar.

Brendan MaGee: So Hannah: You’ve been getting your feet wet in music since you were quite young, but have only really decided to dive in, in the last couple of years. What was that eureka moment when you definitively said “I’m going to do it?”
Hannah Georgas: “I moved out to BC six years ago, and I decided to give university a try. I was doing that for three years and had always been, like you said, doing music forever but never putting myself fully into… taking it seriously and wanting to do it as my full time career. I guess my point where it was just like okay, I need to really do this fully fledged was third year university where I just didn’t feel like it was right. I decided not to go to uVic [the University of Victoria] anymore, and moved out to Vancouver. I just started pursuing music full time and trying to get myself out there to meet people who could help me.”

BM: So you dropped out of university to pursue the career – any regrets on leaving that part of your life behind?
HG:  “Not at all. I remember after high school finishing, my mom being like “You should apply to the universities that you’re interested in.”  I remember being like “well I’m not interested in anything other than music.  I think going out to was a way for me to move out of Ontario and find my own scene, and I was curious. I wanted to try it, and I was interested in psychology. I wanted to give it a go. There are no regrets because I can still go back and do what I wanted to do. What I was trying to hone in on was music therapy, so if I want to go back, I can do. At this point I don’t even see that as something I’d want to put potential to.”

BM: Ever since then, you’ve been trekking across the continent, even spending a fair bit of time across the pond. What sort of affect does having all of these new worlds opening up around you have?
HG: “Meeting people has definitely had an influence on me. Going across the country and discovering that people are coming out to shows has been amazing. Just a positive thing for me. For the last two years, we’ve been going back and forth across Canada. Now this time around it feels really familiar. It’s a beautiful place, and I feel pretty lucky to be living here. “

BM: You were recently asked to write a song about British Columbia for the CBC – how has being constantly on the road affected your relationship with your home province?
HG: “I don’t know… I feel like I’m there traveling around doing that. The last tour I did was Western B.C. and I’ve been there the last six years, so it does feel like it’s becoming home for me. It is home in the sense that I started giving my heart to my music out in British Columbia. As an artist, I can say that I’m from Vancouver, because this is where I started really pursuing it – feeling 100% confident about what I’ve been doing. Whenever I’m back there, whenever I fly into Vancouver, I drive back in through the Rockies, you just have this… ah… it’s so refreshing. It feels like home.”

BM: Being on the road means not only being away from that home, but also being away from a lot of the people that you care about. Has it gotten easier or harder to keep writing the really personal songs you’re known for?
HG: “That’s a good question. I have friends back there, and people that I love who I call when I get back… but I feel that right now I’m so focused on touring, just getting myself out there and having these shows where I can be there live, in person and play my songs. That’s why I feel so excited, I haven’t been in [Fredericton] for a year. Yeah, it’s hard in a way, but at the same time, I know what I have to do and I’m really excited. The only thing that’s stayed really consistent in my life is my music; in relationships, with people, and in friendships. I just feel like there’s no questions there– the music 100% makes my decisions.”

BM: You write on “Let’s Talk”: “And we’re all getting older, and it’s time to figure out, why our hearts are getting colder, and all tangled up inside”. That’s sort of a darker lyric… is this representative of how you feel about living in today’s world?
HG: “I definitely play with the fact that even though we’re growing older, we should still keep that adventurous side to us. Humour is so huge in my life, and just to not take life too seriously. I just don’t want myself as I grow old to develop this certain way, or to be stuck in this way, that I find some people… I don’t want to say my parents (laughs)… I want to feel young at heart all the time, and still feel like there’s a world of opportunity. I am growing old, but I don’t want to grow stale. I think that’s what I’m trying to say.”

BM: Lending itself to that, I think it’s important to point it out that even though it contains bits like this, the album is ultimately called This Is Good. Would you say that sums up the craziness of being in a travelling band today?
HG: “For sure, I wouldn’t have it any other way right now. I feel like I’ve been given the opportunity to share my music. I feel pretty luck that this is what I’m doing for a living. To be on the road. To have people actually respond to what I’m doing and tell me that they relate. Or that they love it. Or that it means such and such to them… It’s just like life can’t be any better right now, and I just want to expand on that. That’s my goal in life- to be able to have a fan base and have people that can relate and feel… That it’s helped them in some way. It might sound cliché… but it’s true (laughs).”

BM: So, you’ve already released the debut full length, toured internationally, graced the cover of Exclaim Magazine and shot a video in the buff…
HG: (laughs)

BM: (laughs)… with all that in mind, do you have anything else to check off the list in 2010?
HG: “Yes! For one thing, I have new songs that I want to record- I think I might go hide for the month of January… I want to make another record, because there are songs that I’m really excited about. I have trouble when I have a new song, I just want to play it. Even when I listen to a new song, I just want to hear it all the time. That’s kind of how I feel about the new music that I’m writing. Also, my new record is coming out in Europe in the New Year too, so I want to be out there. I want to be touring so much out there. I want to tour in the states and have my record out there by the New Year too. I have a lot of work to do.”

feature: the new age of all ages

The following is an intimately written article on Fredericton’s all ages music community, courtesy of (tfc):

The glimmer of purple neon lights cuts through the dimness of the Student Union Building’s basement. There are perhaps a dozen of them. Each one rises like a phoenix, and soars high before melting back into the walls. Suddenly, the purple glow reappears, revealing six musicians on stage. The lights pulse to the beat of the music, people scream and chant, and a thunderous round of applause sounds.

Scenes like this are, for me at least, old and new again. I’ve been taking in live music since my parents began bringing me along to shows at the Playhouse, and to lower key affairs in Officer’s Square. The youthful energy of nights out at the SUB or downtown at the Capital Bar though, is something I’ve earned through an age old rite of passage. That’s not to say I didn’t try to get in when I was younger; I whined, complained, sometimes sent off angry emails to concert promoters, or letters pleading with bands to get me in despite the painfully unfair age restrictions. These rarely warranted a response at all, and rarer still, one that was desirable for the sixteen year old music fan in me. It’s this hard-nosed past of trying and failing to get in that makes me appreciate these evenings more, but it one that also makes me feel uncomfortable about sharing the floor at this particular show with a bunch of rowdy high school students.

One of those students is fifteen year old Fredericton High junior Kate Moore, who like my younger self, would have traditionally seemed out of place at the concert. Typically, they’re a place for upper year university students and people looking for some live music to go along with their drinks – that is until Moore and her friends gave concert promoters a piece of their minds. She and at least a dozen other high school students spent the week before the show leaving an onslaught of messages on its Facebook page – words forceful enough to grab and hold attention, though constructive enough so as not to overshadow their overall message. That message led to the restrictions being lifted, and for the first time in my memory, an all ages show in the SUB.

I’m not far removed from the days of being a disgruntled underage music fan. My friends and I tried everything from growing patchy beards to making fake Ids to get in to see our favourite bands. In fact, I remember a time that my favourite singer came to play the late show at the Harvest Jazz & Blues Festival, and I ended up cursing my future employers for weeks. That night ended like so many other failed adventures – regrouping in the fluorescent lights of a rundown Tannery pizza shop. These days however, underage youth are organizing together and using social media as a means of getting their message across.

Of their actions, Moore says: “This concert could have been representative of ones to come, and we had to be heard now before it was too late. We were all riled and then the momentum from that was reflected on the concert’s event wall on Facebook.”

Was it ever. I didn’t have Facebook when I was there age, and there was certainly no message board around that demanded an audience anywhere near the size of the social media giant. I couldn’t type a sentence into Twitter and immediately reach a thousand people, and therefore, there are no movements like theirs in my past. The fact is, people under the age of 19 don’t have the money to spend $40 or even $50 dollars on a show at the Playhouse, and obviously can’t enjoy the music that flows through the city’s bar scene. This leaves them to pick through a handful of shows at the Charlotte Street Arts Centre and the Wilmot Church. The all ages music scene is a very undeveloped one in Fredericton, and the people at the heart of this issue now have an entirely more effective means of expressing their frustration.

Much like my sixteen year old self, Moore doesn’t care about the alcohol, or the liquor licences; she just wants to see the bands that she loves, at a price she can afford. Despite the mountain of technicalities standing in the way of that, under age students seem no longer willing to spend Saturday nights in the parmesan cheese-smelling confines of a tired old pizza shop.

feature: monumental moments

(tfc) favorite Snailhouse recently released an EP to tide fans over until his next full length release. While we don’t often post about offers like this, the sentimental magnitude at the heart of “Don’t Go Anywhere” is enough to justify passing on a link to this great, free EP.

feature: not just jazz & blues

While time constraints have made the blog unfortunately sparse as of late, (tfc)’s Brendan MaGee did find the time to scribble out the following article on the alternative side of Fredericton’s Harvest Jazz & Blues Festival.
(Originally printed in the Daily Gleaner, T&T, and Telegraph Journal)

The Harvest Jazz and Blues Festival’s scope is not as narrow as its name suggests. Rock, folk, hip hop and electronic music are embraced and showcased as well, with the youth-minded Barracks tent’s line up delivering night after night of alt-rock parties.

After destroying the Blues Tent as singer for DJ Champion in 2007, Oscar-nominated singer Betty Bonifassi returns to the Festival with multi-platinum producer Jean-Phi Gonclaves under their self deprecating moniker Beast, combining belligerent pop tendencies with elements of hip hop, rock, and down tempo electronica.

“Good things are happening,” the Montreal electro rock phenomenon tweeted shortly yet sweetly, seeming to suggest more than words can even say.

Serene, but not entitled, cheery, yet not overly optimistic, the phrase captures a glimpse of the infectious nature that’s made a whirlwind out of the band’s last 365 days.

The duo’s deeply sultry, fabulously layered musical product has opened the door to international touring, being an iTunes featured artist, and even a Best Video nomination at the 2010 Grammy awards.

Described as “strikingly original and swaggeringly bad-ass,” by the Toronto Star, Beast is now set to bring the good things to the Barracks stage.

Taking to that stage a day before their Montreal counterpart, is another fast rising act, Toronto trio Elliott Brood.

Somewhere within the raspy register of singer Mark Sasso rests an ambiance that’s led to the band’s genre classification being dubbed “death country”. Though death was very much at the heart of the Brood’s inspiration for 2009 Polaris Prize shortlisted album Mountain Meadows, Sasso and co. actually spent more time trying to grow new things out of it on their latest release – a romantic record conceptually based around one of the darkest moments in American history, the mountain meadows massacre.

Despite Elliott Brood’s mounting reputation, there was an inescapable notion that Mountain Meadows had made its way to critical acclaim more by accident than design. As their legendary live show will demonstrate, though, the band’s fervent energy and alt folk urgency can overcome any and all criticism related to their short resumes.

The Barracks Tent isn’t the only scene during the Festival that will showcase the best that alternative genres have to offer. In an unassuming show, early in the Blues Tent, Australian folk troubadour Xavier Rudd will take the stage, with his band Izintaba, as a man on the complete opposite end of the career spectrum from his folk-rock counterparts.

The talented multi-instrumentalist is known for mixing roots, reggae, and folk with music of Aussie aborigines in a blend that’s been captivating international audiences for the last decade. Perhaps Rudd’s most notable accomplishment – and the feature Harvest-goers should be most excited for – though, is his ability to create an overwhelming inner warmth in fans and perfect strangers alike.

Rudd, as well as Beast, and Elliott Brood all show that while Fredericton is about to become consumed by one heck of a jazz and blues celebration, there are plenty of places in the festival’s diverse line-up to ensure that good things will happen, no matter what the genre.

q&a: tim baker

On assignment for QRO Magazine, (tfc)’s Brendan MaGee caught up with Tim Baker, frontman of the fast-rising Newfoundland six piece  Hey Rosetta.
(The following interview was originally printed in QRO Magazine.)

Brendan MaGee: Your latest record was a departure from the explosive indie rock sound you’ve built your name on. Instead, the Red Songs EP marked more of a softer, introspective side of the band. What brought on the change?
Tim Baker: I don’t think it’s a fundamental shift in what the bands about, sort of thing. We’ve just finished mixing our latest record, which is what I thought you were talking about. I was like “How’d you know that? How’d you know it was a departure from indie rock,” [laughs].

We’re still the same band… when you’re a songwriter and you only have one project, you kind of have all sorts of stuff that gets pushed aside. But we in the band love that side, love the soft folky side of songs – the songs that come out and can’t be turned into rock songs. You’ve got to respect that. We play songs like that quite a bit, and we had those songs around for a while; recorded them a long time ago actually. Just had it sitting around for a long time and really wanted to make a nice, longer thing out of it, you know? Instead of two songs, we wanted to make sort of an EP of the many soft and folky songs that I have kicking around. We’re just so busy touring, never got back in the studio, and grew disenchanted with the other songs. But I really liked Red Song from the beginning, and Window Weeping seemed like the proper partner for it, and it made the album sort of… the album? It’s not even an album… the seven inch kind of tied it together as love songs, which is why it’s called Red Songs. We like that stuff, but were not just that or anything.

BM: Red has seemingly been an oft visited inspiration for Hey Rosetta – You’ve got “Red Heart”, “Red Song”, “Red Confederates’ Confessions” – what’s your connection to it?
TB: I don’t know. There’s the really obvious poetic metaphor in red you know? The color of blood, the color of love – I don’t know, I guess I probably shouldn’t have called it “Red Song”.

BM: Why is that?
TB: Well it’s kind of repetitive, like you said. It’s not about red or anything – it is a love song. I’m not even particularly fond of red, but it’s the most intense. They’re sort of isolated songs – the titles are strange. You work for days and days trying to find a title. Red says something, though I’m not sure what.

BM: You’ve just finished recording an as-of-yet untitled full length… which side of the band can we expect to hear on it?
TB: I think all sides, you know, and some new sides maybe. It’s quite similar in scope as Into Your Lungs, but it goes a lot of different places. I think it’s the same sort of band… I think we’ve matured quite a bit in our playing, in our tastes, especially in our sound-getting and actual production… like tones and everything. I hope it makes it a little more adventurous, and we took a bit longer to make it, but I think… I think it sounds good.

BM: It’s rumored that the new album centers on the theme of springtime; in other words, rebirth. With the breakout year you had after the release of Into Your Lungs, one might wonder why rebirth would be such a central theme for you going forward.
TB: One might wonder that. I don’t know – I think a lot of the stuff will sort of just come out. It comes out, comes forth, and it’s been a pretty happy couple of years. Our popularity has been a pleasant surprise, and it continues to be so. I’ve seen a lot of love come our way, at shows especially. Playing cities you’ve only been to a couple of times and just having all of these people come out and sing it, sing along and love it. It’s been a good time. It’s been hard, with lots of travelling. You don’t get to see your loved ones very much, and you don’t see yourself very much – always surrounded by people all the time. It’s been hard for writing and stuff, but it’s been really good. I don’t know if it’s been a spring time for me or anything, but it’s a nice… it’s a nice metaphor. Spring…it’s such an eternal metaphor that everybody gets. I like it, and it’s never a conscious thing to make a record that has a lot of spring themes in it, they just kind of pop up. It’s a tight, neat sort of metaphor when you’re talking about people and mood, promise, wonder, etc. I just noticed that it happened again and again.

BM: As mentioned, that last album garnered significant critical success, including a Verge Music award, a Polaris Prize nomination and a handful of ECMAs. Has acclaim changed the way you operate as a band, or your personal outlook on your own music?
TB: What is that word, irrevocably? Irrevocably? Yes, undeniably, but hopefully not in any serious way. I often worry; I spend far too much time worrying whether I’m ever going to write again, or what it means to have hundreds or thousands of people looking over your shoulder and in your mind… they’re waiting for the words, and you know they’re going to hear it eventually. It’s kind of scary. We worry that it might scare the good things away, but it’s still the same process. It’s still a very humble process. I think the approach is the same, maybe we’re a little more earnest about the whole thing. The more people you know are going to hear it, the more people you know are waiting for it and really love what you’d done before – it kind of just places more importance on it. There’s a pressure there. We’re still working; the Welsh spring is still flowing.

BM: This time around, you’re doing a lot of production work in the UK as I understand it. Scotland, right?
TB: Yeah, we’ve been mixing a lot in Scotland.

BM: On top of that, you’ve travelled extensively throughout Canada, The US, but also around Europe and Australia with a trip to China planned later on this year. What sort of affect does having all of these new worlds opening up around you have on your writing?
TB: You get to mention city names in songs, having actually been there… but I don’t ever do that, [chuckles]. That’s a difficult question, I don’t know. You get to see a lot of music, not necessarily because you’re travelling the world, but just travelling through all these different cities, these sort of musical and artistic centers of the world. You get to meet a lot of musicians and artists and exchange ideas. It’s nice in that way, just to broaden your horizons – not just geographically, physically being outside your home, but being at shows you wouldn’t see. You get to be at parties, meet people, talk about things you’d never talk about. I guess it’s enriching.

BM: So it’s a positive experience overall?
TB: Yeah, when you can make it out of the hotel room at the end of the day. Often, no. Very often, you just have to collapse and sleep as long as possible all the time. It’s good, it’s fine… it’s tiring, but it’s good.

BM: As a band, you have a reputation of being masters of emotion. In regards to that emotion, there’s a lyric on “Open Arms” goes “I’ve been crying all of my life I guess / all my smiles were just cringing and tired / now you’re drying my eyes / I find these bleary sights cuff polished and bright”. That’s pretty heavy stuff…
TB: Yeah, that’s fucking dark…

QRO: So do you live at all vicariously through your characters or metaphorically through their stories?
TB: I think so. Like any writer, there’s a part of you in every character…

BM: Do you feel that there’s such a thing as giving too much of yourself?
TB: I don’t know; I often feel like things are too much, like over the top… but there’s something about music that’s over the top anyway. Even just a single note is dramatic, and you need to have words that match… What was the actual question? [Laughs].

BM: Do you feel there’s such a thing as giving too much?
TB: Nah, throw it all out there. I think everybody somewhere deep down will understand what you’re talking about. Life is too fucking short, you know, to just be a poser all the time. You’d be a lot cooler than the shit that I write, but I don’t care. Bring it on. People are hurting out there everyday, I think they are-

BM: You’ve been around, you should know!
TB: [chuckles] They don’t mind hurting, they don’t mind hearing about it.

BM: So in terms of the stories themselves, you explore a wide range of subject matter with an even wider array of gravity… Looking though your catalogue, you go from bible stories on “Red Song” to mementos of Jeff Buckley on “Lions For Scottie”, to what can be interpreted as 9/11 flashbacks on “A Thousand Suns”… all the while in a powerful emotional atmosphere-
TB: That’s because it was in that movie right? That’s interesting.

BM: So what’s your attachment to the characters and their plot lines?
TB: That’s a hell of a question… What’s the attachment? I don’t know what it is – that’s puzzling. You know, it comes out, and then you write it down and you scratch it out, and you write it a different way until you’re happy with how it sounds with the music. Then usually being happy with it means that it means something to you, or it paints some sort of picture for you as it happens with the music. It’s really cathartic first of all, it feels really good to sing; it feels really good to yell. You know scream therapy? It’s the same thing with singing.

My attachment? I guess I’m quite attached to them. Not all of them – some songs just die. Many songs, you know, just don’t work out. I like the little worlds… I love the little narratives, like the character in “Red Song”, like Joseph. Those are good picks.

BM: Before the six piece band and all the international touring, and awards, Hey Rosetta was simply a thought in your mind. Have you ever thought about going back to those roots and cutting a solo record?
TB: Oh yeah, you know, I’ve thought about it. I can’t really… I mean a solo record is a weird thing. It would be the same, kind of, except it wouldn’t be the great friends and the great skills, the honesty and the talent of everyone else in the band. But the music would be pretty much the same. I get carried away…I don’t know if I could do a record with just acoustic guitar and piano. Something really simple, but you can’t keep it simple, because once you start getting these characters, these emotions, or this power happening, you want it to be reflected. I love rock and roll. It would be the same, but not as good… so fuck it, not right now [laughs]. Maybe when I get a pile of really simple, dead simple soft stuff, like Red Songs, but even that was still a… that’s the beautiful thing about the band, there’s such maturity. It’s cool if no one plays but me, it’s still the band. It’s really a large part of songs where it’s just me, solo… but that’s kind of the point of the band. For me anyway, the rest of the boys might shoot me. For me, it’s like both worlds… a bunch of worlds. You can let the lyrics speak, just the lyrics and the voice, with small accompaniment. Then you have this range of power that you can provide… sweeping, strange, or whatever.

BM: The very colorful “Red Song” ends on the line “In the black I feel you / In the black I sense / Somewhere in the red the colors end.” Where do the colors end for Hey Rosetta? Or where are they going at least?
TB: Where do the colours end… hopefully not some tragic band accident. We’re tempting fate with all this fucking driving. I shouldn’t have said that though, it’s going to be creepy when you write that down, [chuckles].

Lately I’ve been scared about dying – I never was, ever. I didn’t mind… you know when you fly in a plane and hit turbulence? I’d make my peace. I did alright, I was a nice guy – I stood up for what I believed in and was kind to other people… I don’t get that feeling anymore when we hit turbulence. I get anxious, and I don’t know why. Anyway…

Where are we going? We’re going to China, I know that much. If we ever get back from that, we’re going to tour the United States, Canada, and it just keeps on going, you know? It’s good, it’s scary, it’s exhausting to think about, hopeful to think about. Hopefully I’ll just keep going home, hopefully people will just keep buying the iTunes stuff, and come to the shows… and I’ll be good. We’ll all have nice little families, and tour all times of the year, and-

BM: Live happily ever after?
TB: And live happily ever after, [laughs]… with our sweethearts, and our cabins on the lakes of Newfoundland. That’s the idea, hopefully we’re just singing around the campfire… That’s when the meteors will come; the end to a crazy plan.

q&a: old man luedecke

On assignment for QRO Magazine, (tfc)’s Brendan MaGee caught up with Chester, Nova Scotia troubadour Chris ‘Old Man’ Luedecke.
(The following interview was originally printed in QRO Magazine.)

BM: You recently completed a coast-to-coast Canadian tour in twenty-four days.  How do you feel about touring in the age of high gas prices and downloadable music?

Chris Luedecke: Well… great, fine.  I mean I certainly don’t like some of it…  Like I moved everyday to do it.  But I really like the performing, and it’s just me travelling all that way, so I feel like it’s not that horrible – or not as horrible as it could be.  And what else did you say?  Downloadable music?

BM: Yes.

CL: I think people still want the CD; you know… it’s pretty. [chuckles]

BM: Seeing so much of your own country, the beautiful landscapes and all, how big of a role do imagery and natural beauty play in your writing?

CL: I do what I do…  I mean, I tend to be nervous about each tune, but it’s important to me when I can do it well, to do it when I can.  It is important, it has been important to me for years.

BM: So, you’ve completed the entire tour solo, right?  Well, most of it at least…

CL: Except for last night, yeah.

BM: The new album [My Hands Are On Fire & Other Love Songs] features a full band, which is sort of the first time for you…

CL: Well, the second time.

BM: Right, sorry about that… the second time.  Is it hard touring those newer songs that were originally joined with fiddle, bass, guitar and drums?

CL: Is it hard touring those songs?

BM: Right.  Is it hard touring them on your own?

CL: No, because I… I tend to write the songs so that… When I’m writing songs, I’m writing songs for me to play.  So the songs, basically the albums are all songs that I can play for you, or for any number of people.  Everything is sort of… On the album it’s just more of a palette, but it’s really just about I just want to be able to sing.  If I’m going to put a song on a record, it’s probably something I can sit and just sing for you on its own.  The banjo is a pretty full-sounding instrument.

BM: So for this record… Is your writing process essentially that you write on your own and you bring what you get to the people you get to play with you?

CL: Well, Steve Dawson – the producer… Basically we made the record in three days, so I had the best songs I had, and I went to Vancouver like I did last time.  I had three days with these great musicians, and we just sat around and played them, got them good, and recorded the process.

BM: The transition on the last two albums to more of a full band sound sort of leaves a bit of the modesty that maybe your earlier fans were drawn to.  Did you ever find that risky, or did you ever second-guess it?

CL: Um… I don’t think so, because the more that I think about song writing, and I’m like, ‘Oh, I really like that song, I should write a song like that.’  Then it’s like, ‘But I’ve already written that song.’  You know what I mean?  Why would I keep trying to write the same song?  I wouldn’t keep trying to write the same song, because I wouldn’t want to keep making the same album either.

I think by and large, like I do play so much by myself, and I probably always will.  For me, making the record is like a different mode of expression.  It’s like, ‘Let’s take these songs, and see what they sound like with other people.’  In terms of the modesty of it, I don’t know.  It’s not a very slick record, I don’t think. [chuckles]

BM: You won a Juno for Proof Of Love – My Hands Are On Fire‘s predecessor.  How did this affect your mindset – if at all – in writing material for this new record?

CL: Well, probably not much, really.  I mean, if anything, I turned around and spent most of last year… basically I decided to record an album in November, sort of right around the same time I won the Juno.  Basically from the minute that album was recorded, most musicians – I think – would be starting to think about the next one.  You know what I mean?  Like, I’m sort of already trying to put stuff together for the next one.  I just always want the best songs I can write to be on there.

So, In terms of the Juno affecting my ‘creative space’, probably not really; I don’t really… I’m not really sold that there’s any sort of effect on the creative process.  The creative process is a pretty scary, it’s pretty dark and negative place to begin with.  I don’t really think that there’s any pressure from a glass statue.  The creative space is it’s own place anyway.  When you’re done then you worry about that stuff, whether it adds up and measures up, but usually I’m just looking to write the songs that are closest to what I feel at the time… and that will hopefully stand up and I won’t be embarrassed in a week.

BM: The Juno is arguably the biggest award you’ve won so far.  How does it rank in terms of your list of greatest musical accomplishments?

CL: Probably not that high, but it feels good to have won it.  I’m happier having it than not having it, you know [chuckles].  In terms of ‘is that a defining moment’, I don’t know about musically.  Maybe in terms of my success, it’s certainly high on the list as a defining moment, but musically I wouldn’t say so.  They’re quite separate.

BM: In terms of your career then, do you have any goals in mind?

CL: Like, no.  I mean you get goals as you go, but I just sort of found the banjo and fell in love with it… and found something that I really loved doing, and all this was pretty terrifying about how that was going to go.  It’s only in the last couple of years that that seems to be working out in my favour… well not the last couple of years.  If I look back at it now, I realize it’s been working out since the beginning.  It didn’t feel that way until the last few years.  But where do I want to end up?  It would be fun to play at [Toronto's large] Massey Hall… I’d like to play in the U.S. more.  I have lots of goals like that, little goals, but not like…

BM: So you don’t have a plan for where you see yourself in five years or anything like that?

CL: No I’m not going to do, like, a collaboration with Timbaland [laughs]…  Not yet anyway, maybe if he calls…

BM: Do you have any career regrets so far?

CL: Um… I don’t know.  Do you have any suggestions what my regrets might be? [chuckles]

BM: No, no.  I can’t really think of anything…

CL: I don’t think so.  You know, you always wish that you were better.  I always wished that I had more time to practice or something like that, to be better, but you get better by practicing too.

BM: How do you feel about music pertaining to what you do as an artist?

CL: What do you mean?

BM: What does it mean to you, in terms of… What do you draw from other music?

CL: There’s a vibration, some kind of spiritual fulfillment I guess.  Music that tends to give it to me tends to be stuff I consider to be pretty ‘real’, in a sort of completely abstract way.  I don’t know how you can explain that; I mean, it doesn’t sound like bullshit.  Honest, just honest stuff.  Among those things are just a bunch of stuff that is just about as complete as you would hope anything could be in the world, just like any other art form.

BM: On “Machu Picchu” you sing, “There was never a song I couldn’t sing my way out of.”  What does this phrase mean to you?  Is it a mission statement for what you do?

CL: I think it’s just a joke.  I just think it’s a great… So much music is so self-reflective, and I think it’s just kind of fun to sort of go for the brag, sort of clowning around…

BM: So sort of self-deprecating?

CL: It’s actually the opposite of that, it’s like bragging myself up… kind of like ‘bring it on’, which is unusual for me.

feature: favorite reviews of ’09

First of all, I’d like to thank everyone who reads this blog, and who gives this sort of music a chance. All music is dependent on the people who listen to it, who take a chance on buying a CD, and who support live shows. I’m really glad that finding an outlet for my writing has gone this far, and I hope to move it even further in 2010. Finally, thank you all for your support.

In the spirit of looking back on 2009, here are my favorites reviews from this past year…

Brian Borcherdt – Coyotes: (http://wp.me/pBpKo-R)
Steven Bowers – Circadian Anthem: (http://wp.me/pBpKo-U)
Daniel Ledwell – Two Over Seven: (http://wp.me/pBpKo-1B)

Happy New Year!
(theferocious coast)

much & canadian culture: “left in the dust”

“Left In The Dust”
Much Music recently celebrated its 25th anniversary on the air. Looking back, it’s easy to see that it is not the same network that people championed a decade ago. Much has cut nearly every tie it had to Canadian culture, but why?

Walking up the stairs in my best friend’s apartment building has become rhythmic, hypnotic, and most of all familiar. Up two flights of twelve steps each, through the worn-out second floor doorway, down the hallway of painfully bland white walls, and finally in through the last door on the left. I take off my shoes in the entryway, and round the corner into the living room. Without fail the television is on, odds are the dial is turned to Much Music. I laugh now, curious how many times I’ve completed this ritual, and I wonder if somewhere deep inside of me, I’ve noticed the devolution of the once great Canadian culture benefactor.

At the Capital Bar in Fredericton, Zach Atkinson is hard at work. He makes his living as a concert promoter, booking agent, and a graphic designer. On top of all that though is his real passion, music. Atkinson is a drummer in local band the Slate Pacific. He says he remembers a different Much Music than what’s on the air today, one that inspired his musical side.

“Much used to be the source for good Canadian music,” said Atkinson. “Before the internet was so accessible, before Myspace, Facebook, all other social networking and free download sites, and before torrents, Much Music made me want to listen to music and play in bands,” he said.

The network was founded as an independent specialty channel in 1984, by well known broadcasters John Martin and Moses Znaimer. Its mandate was simple, to be a twenty-four hour music video channel. To stay in line with a CRTC requirement known as CanCon, Much had to maintain a proportional percentage of Canadian content. It was that compliance, as well as the creation of VideoFACT – a fund that provides money for Canadian artists to produce music videos – that gained the network a reputation for developing an exciting Canadian music scene.

In the early nineties alone, Much greatly helped launch the careers of Matthew Good, Our Lady Peace, David Usher, Chantal Kreviazuk, and Sloan, among others. All of these artists were young Canadians, who were new to the music industry, but all of their music retained a high level of artistic integrity, and their videos were played in heavy rotation. This raises the question of what has changed in a decade.

“Much Music had some great shows that highlighted great national and international bands such as New Music, Spotlight, The Wedge, Loud & The Punk Show,” said Atkinson. “Most of these shows are no longer on the air, and Much has now moved towards an MTV style of music network focusing on bad realty TV, ‘sister stations,’ and superstar spotlights that just show how spoiled most of these people are,” he said. “They have pulled the focus away from good Canadian content and left its culture in the dust for an episode of The OC.”

It’s possible that priorities changed when co-founder John Martin left in 1993, or even when CTV Globemedia acquired Much in a takeover a few years ago. Somewhere along the way though, the emphasis went from what could be popular to only what is popular. Today, the network is rarely plays anything aside from the Top 40 Chart.

Unfamiliar Records president Greg Ipp believes that the fallout has to do with how VideoFACT and FACTOR – its government counterpart – are dolling out grant money today.

“As the inner workings of the industry become more transparent, and as my personal debt mounts, the process is becoming increasingly frustrating,” wrote Ipp, in an open letter to the Canadian music industry.

In that letter, he describes a tendency for grants to be distributed to “bands under the wing of well-funded labels with cash to spare.” He cites very popular Canadian band Metric, who he says have garnered over $60,000 so far this year, as one such example.

“If the band is relatively unknown to the national music scene, juries are more likely to pass on their application because of their smaller status,” Atkinson agreed.

For now, musicians like Atkinson have to rely on amateur videos, like one recently done by Mitch Fillion of Southern Souls. The production quality is low, the camera work is a little shaky, and there is definite background noise. The music however, stands on its own two feet. It may not be a flashy video, with some big name producer and a five figure budget, but aren’t all of these things just distractions anyway? Cliché as it might sound, a lot of people put the music ahead of they watch while listening to it. I only wish Much Music would return to the ‘good ol’ days’ when they thought the same way.

doubling up: in-flight safety

In-Flight Safety
Coast Is Clear /// We Are An Empire My Dear
Dead Daisy Records 2006 /// Night Danger Records 2009

In-Flight Safety burst onto the East Coast scene with their debut full length Coast Is Clear. The album provided one of the freshest sounds to emerge from the area in quite some time. Coast Is Clear is a roller coaster ride of dreamy indie rock with some great pop hooks. The album is admittedly not the most balanced; at first glance it is even a little top heavy with highlights Surround and the brilliant title track within the first three songs. I-FS still manage however, to doll out a solid collection of very pleasing songs that only get better with repeat listening. Fear is a great mid-album change of pace, and Lost (The March Song) does a brilliant job of closing up the record. Coast Is Clear ended up taking home several honors and awards, and culminated in a brilliant performance at the finale of the 2007 ECMA Awards show, where the band first caught my eye. The album at very least must be described as an impressive start. Here’s to great beginnings.

For their latest release, We Are An Empire My Dear, the band went in a bit of a different direction. For starters, they came out of this record with an indescribably heavier sound, complimented with more synth. I’m lost for a word to properly describe the new style, but “hazier” seems an appropriate example. The album, like its predecessor is an excursion from everyday life; it’s quite easy to get caught up in a catchy chorus, or a flawless instrumental part. Paperthin, Model Homes, and I Could Love You More anchor the bands second full length. I only have two problems with We Are An Empire My Dear... The first is that none of the songs – save for Model Homes – are terribly distinct, which leads to the second problem, that several songs run together. This review sounds ambivalent at this point, and I don’t want to give the wrong impression about the album. It’s definitely good, and I’m glad I took the time to listen to it. Unlike Coast Is Clear however, it is missing “wow factor.” We Are An Empire provides a steady stream of consistent hazy, alternative rock that most fans will find enjoyable. Myself, however, I can’t help feeling at least a little bit indifferent to this great bands latest offering.