Could this dude really fuck Neil Young up?-
With Caribou’s tripped and looped-out foray into psychedelic dance entitled “Andorra” taking the third annual Polaris Prize for the best full-length Canadian album of the year, you might assume that there’s a hint of “Canadian-ness” within “Andorra.” This is a fair assumption only because along with the Aussies, Canadian music fans (And the majority of the jury on the Polaris Prize panel are indeed Canadian) wear their hearts on their sleeves. Though they are often even reluctant to do so, for that’d cover their bitchin’ maple leaf tattoos they winced through after first making love in a canoe.
The Canadian music scene as a whole (A big whole, mind you) is in a funny position. The “Local” scene in cities like Toronto and Vancouver has become a tad irrelevant. Touring throughout Canada is such a grand gesture and a feat of rock and roll itself that if the brakes don’t falter and the van actually makes it across the country, you’ll probably be welcomed at the same size of a club as you would in your home town. Canadian hospitality? Maybe. Perpetually having our backs up against the wall and bearing a chip on our shoulder in the shape of some stars and stripes? Maybe even more.
It’s more than likely that the idea behind the Polaris Prize wasn’t to celebrate Canadiana. After all, it’s rather difficult to find Neil Young, or any town in North Ontario in “Andorra.” The album is thick with hyper-meditation; it beats the head-nodding rhythms of the Beta Band into submission with a presence that sneaks up on you and grabs you by the sub-cockles all at once. “Andorra” actually makes psychedelic sound “Subtle” (Or subtle enough to have influenced Sgt. Peppers, had it been released 42 years earlier. Ha!) that it’s best listened to at half-volume with the stars of a clear night cranked as loud as they can get. (There might be some Northern Ontario in “Andorra” after all)
So is the idea behind Polaris to separate the Canada from the great emerging Canadian pop artists? Is that why The Weakerthans didn’t get the nod? Are tunes like “Elegy For Gump Worsley,” the sluggish, overweight eccentric of a goalie from my father’s time just not cool enough? Does being a valid Canadian indie artist in 2008 mean letting old-school influences fall by the wayside?
There’s nothing inherently Canadian about “Andorra” which might not bother too many people. But I fail to believe the mission statement listed on the Polaris website: “The operation of a not-for-profit organization that annually honours, celebrates and rewards creativity and diversity in Canadian recorded music by recognizing, then marketing the albums of the highest artistic integrity, without regard to musical genre, professional affiliation, or sales history, as judged by a panel of selected critics and experts.”
To me, that translates roughly into “Let’s celebrate Canadian artists by separating them from the rest of the indie music world. And therefore, let’s separate Canadian music from everything else. Let’s give it a pedestal. And somewhere down the line, let’s celebrate Canada.” And there, at the end of that line, with a Moosehead in tow is where you’ll find me, begging for the honest aesthetics that real Canadian music has to offer. The Polaris Prize can only scratch the surface on a good day.
That’s the womb that Canadian music was earthed from; the idea that barely scratching the surface is all anyone can do in this vast land. While it seems to be a rite of passage for many indie bands to play the Canmore Hotel in Canmore, Alberta or the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, Quebec, most of the artists that roll through these venues would likely agree they couldn’t possibly know much about Canmore or Wakefield. But the scrape or the “Dig” itself is reason enough to keep going.
Real, soulful Canadian music ought to be full of the same grit that the vans travel over, going as Ronnie Hawkins once famously dubbed it “Ten times as far to make it a tenth of the way.” Sure, being an independent musician in Canada is not easy. It probably never was. Maybe I’m just a purist, or a hoser. (Is that term still cool? Was it ever?) But as the Polaris Prize attempts to celebrate Canadian music, they ought to recognize that not every Canadian music fan thinks band that sound remotely like the Arcade Fire are walking deities. Some don’t even think they’re all that good.
Some Canadian music fans know that the only way to beat a tough industry is to sound tough. This isn’t meant to mythologize the gritty, countryesque-rock that small town radio stations purvey with a heightened frequency, although Tom Cochrane is and will be cool as shit. It’s meant to remind all the fans of the Polaris Prize that if you dig deep enough, you might be able to connect the dots between Young Neil and Caribou, from Dundas, Ontario. And if you do manage to do so, then you’ll realize there’s still bands out there (Likely spending the night trying to fix the brakes in the goddamned van!) that aren’t trying to emulate Neil per se, but are just influenced enough by Canada’s honest aesthetic that it bleeds through in their tunes. Hosers of the world, unite and take over. And don’t feel so helpless, helpless, helpless. (Oh, I had to)
Constantines released “Kensington Heights,” their debut for Arts and Crafts in 2007 and though it was placed on the 40-album long list, it was overlooked for the shortlist. The album itself sounds like a tattered old hunter’s jacket. Though the album is a bold and mature step for the band but it still hints at the fact that there is much more to find. Songs like “Trans-Canada” sound desperate but at the same time, full of hope. In fact, albums like “Asking For Flowers” by Kathleen Edwards and “Reunion Tour” by The Weakerthans all bear a certain resilience and belief and are damn good too. But they all walk the fine line of being featured on Pitchfork and Country Music Television.
I had the chance to interview Caribou via email back in March. While he seemed like a cool enough dude, (And blessed with foresight) I wondered if the grit that put Canada on the map musically was evident in any of his tunes. With the Polaris Prize seemingly ignoring rock and roll for the third year (Remember, the thing’s only as old as...Post-NHL lock out flashbacks???) I’m beginning to wonder if the prize isn’t just free of genres but free of historical recognition. Clearly, the Prize is working hard to break free from the idea that Neil Young is still relevant to Canadian music.
In 2006, the inaugural Polaris Prize was awarded to Final Fantasy before (Apparently) trying to avert a sophomore slump by awarding the prize to Patrick Wilson’s ambient “Close To Paradise.” It’s possible that the Polaris Prize is trying to create a new aesthetic in Canadian independent music. Albums that in scope stretch as far as the country itself, though void of the standard drunken blue-collar tales of loss and redemption. (I’ve just reviewed every Matt Mays album to be released in the next six years. Just there. Just did it.) But what separates Canada from the horde is not only an appreciation for diversity but an appreciation of the past.
Is this the death of rock and roll as a “Cool” sound in Canada? Seeing as how the selected members of the jury are the who’s who of cool in Canadian music, one might think so. If this is the case, I fear first for places like the Canmore Hotel which has long housed every Canadian touring band worth its salt. This paradigm shift has implications as big as the country itself; quiet, husky rock songs to whisper along too will be replaced by tripped out jams on long drives home during the Monday of a long weekend. The amount of pot smoked on long weekends in Canada will inevitably stay the same, I’m sure.
Furthermore, I fear for this new aesthetic. Hear me out, my tripped out brothers and sisters. Prime Minister Stephen Harper has come under fire as of late for axing the $4.7-million “PromArt” program, which gives Canadian artists grants to go abroad and promote Canadian culture. In cutting the program, the Harper government stated that the recipients were "not exactly the foot that most Canadians would want to see put forward" and because "the money was going to fringe arts groups that, in many cases, would be at best, unrepresentative, and at worst, offensive."
Now, it’s out in the open that the Harper government was referring to Toronto-based math rock outfit Holy Fuck with that “Offensive” comment. But what’s really telling about that statement is the fact that groups like Holy Fuck (Who were nominated themselves for the Polaris Prize this year) are now considered to be the type of act that most Canadians feel ashamed of, according to the Harper government. So now we know Harper isn’t a math rock fan. Shock and awe are ringing through my ears.
In the wake of Harper’s decision, the jury for the Polaris Prize could have taken a bold step and given Holy Fuck’s “LP” the prize. But subtlety was the order of the day, instead opting for “Andorra.” Dan Snaith, the man behind the Caribou moniker doesn’t even reside in Canada. Awarding him the Polaris Prize is just as weighty a statement as Harper’s and it won’t be long before those in the Harper government (Who are sure to win the next election, majority or not) continue to cut funding for Canadian artists.
Awarding the Polaris Prize to grit-rockers Constantines “Kensington Heights” for example wouldn’t have necessarily solved everything, but it gets extremely difficult to compare artists when they’re simply not working under the same aesthetic. Or why even award the prize altogether? Holy Fuck claims that they only juiced the PromArt program for $3000. Haggling a few extra thousand out of Rogers, the main sponsor of the Polaris Prize couldn’t be too difficult. Splitting the $20,000 a few ways seems a lot more “Canadian” and would be yet another timely middle-finger to Harper’s government. Let them recognize and fund the new Guess Who’s of Canada. And let private interest fund the new, well, let’s call it the new maybe.
I’m all for evolution, but there’s something about Canadian rock and roll which doesn’t sound like it has the capacity to adapt. Simply put, this curmudgeonly ol’ bastard of a genre doesn’t have to. If there’s anything rock and roll in Canada doesn’t want to do, it’s compete. To personify it, I’m sure they wouldn’t care about competing either way as long as there’s a place to crash at the end of the night.
But $20,000 can buy a fair amount of plush hotel rooms that would make touring a little easier. What $20,000 can’t always buy is a sense of respect at the Canmore Hotel or the Black Sheep Inn. It can’t buy a legacy either. And if gritty rock and roll doesn’t start getting the respect it deserves in indie circles soon enough, I doubt it’ll be able to buy enough gas to get back to Northern Ontario. Not so cool at all.
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