(I started my Vinyl Love posts pretty much right after the launch of this blog to share photos of my growing vinyl collection. Over time, the photos have improved and the explanations have grown. And looking back at a handful of the original posts in this series, I found myself wanting to re-do some of them so that the posts are more worthy of those great albums. So that’s what I’ll be doing every once in a while, including today…)
Artist: Barenaked Ladies Album Title: Gordon Year released: 1992 Year reissued: 2017 Details: Black vinyl, 2 x LP, 180 gram Gatefold sleeve, 25th anniversary edition
The skinny: My original ‘Vinyl Love’ gallery on this record was posted back in November three years ago. In that piece, I blamed my pre-ordering of it during the prior summer on my friend Patrick, who is a pretty big fan of the Ladies and had alerted me to its reissue. I think it funny now that I had actually had to think about purchasing it. “Gordon” was a pretty big deal, especially in Southern Ontario, when it was released back in 1992. The rest of the world wouldn’t officially catch on to the four-piece from Scarborough until a few years later and by that point, I (and a lot of their other early diehard fans) had moved on. This debut, however, remains a classic and I had forgotten how great it was until I received this 25th anniversary reissue on two 180-gram discs in the mail. I feel like I’ve listen to these 15 songs more in the last three years than I had in the previous two decades. And yeah, I still know every word to every song. Every word. Every song. Classic.
Standout track: “Brian Wilson”
P.S. Those of you who are aficionados of early 1990s Canadian alt-rock might appreciate a photo I am planning on posting to my Instagram account tomorrow. Watch out for it.
Believe it or not, “Closing time” was the song that first turned me on to Mr. Cohen: the poet, novelist, singer, songwriter, and Canadian Icon. I loved his voice right from the start and his easy sing-speak delivery and his cool demeanour. Shortly afterwards, I connected Cohen to that awesome song that Christian Slater’s character used to open his pirate radio show in the film, “Pump up the volume” and well, a lifelong love affair was born. I didn’t know this then but “Closing time” was one of two singles released off what would be the last album he recorded before entering a Buddhist monastery, touching off a prolonged break. “The future” is now considered a classic album in his catalogue but it was a struggle to create for the man from beginning to end.
“Ah we’re drinking and we’re dancing
and the band is really happening
and the Johnny Walker wisdom running high”
Around the time that “Closing time” was making the rounds on MuchMusic, I was taking a driver’s training class with Young Drivers of Canada. I was getting my license later than many of my friends, mostly to beat the implementation of graduated licensing (yes, I’m that old), and yeah, so many of those in the class were a few years younger than I was. I remember there being a teen girl in the class who wore a Leonard Cohen concert T-shirt to class one day and we all ribbed her to no end. Leonard wasn’t a “cool” choice amongst all the alt-rock kids but a few of us in the know, came to her defence after things got carried away. No one should have to pay for being a fan of Cohen. I’m sure all those kids know that now as adults.
“All the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it’s partner found, it’s partner lost
and it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops”
It was also around that time that my older brother Andrew came back to live at home for a while. After years of living in the States, he had been indoctrinated into listening to Country music, yes, he wore cowboy boots and the whole bit. Interestingly, “Closing time” got its hooks into him, perhaps it was the fiddle, which was part of what got its hooks into me. Unfortunately, though, that meant that the cassette tape I had this on was always in the player and he would replay it to the point where I was almost sick of it. Then, he would drag me out with him to country bars to pick up women, none of whose companions I was ever remotely interested in, and then, drunkenly sing the few lines he knew of “Closing time” over and over again as we were staggering home in the early hours of the morning.
“Yeah we’re drinking and we’re dancing
but there’s nothing really happening
and the place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night
And my very close companion
gets me fumbling gets me laughing
she’s a hundred but she’s wearing
something tight”
I only recently learned that “Closing time” is Leonard Cohen’s love poem to Toronto’s famous dive/after hours bar, The Matador, sadly now defunct (though I hear plans to resurrect it are in the works). I have only ever been to the Matador once in my life and that was on my friend Tim’s birthday, probably more than a decade ago now. We were all rather drunk already, which made a surreal experience all the more surreal. Nobody seem to know its precise address but the mere mention of the name to the cab driver got us all there without incident. Once there, we stood in line for an unknown amount of time but I distinctly remember our friend Mark saying to me, “If they ask you if you’re a cop, just say ‘no’.” There are plenty more stories that I could tell of that evening inside The Matador but I’ll leave those for another evening over beers. Let’s just say that when closing time actually rolled around, we stumbled out blinking in the morning sun and into waiting cabs bound for our beds.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1992 list, click here.
Well, it’s Canada day again, albeit one the likes of which we’ve never seen before. And hopefully, we’ll never see again.
I’ve saved this particular post for today because the band in question is a lesser known and perhaps, not as well remembered Canadian alternative rock band from the 90s. Pure were one of the few Canadian acts that I listened to around that time and it was likely because their sound was similar to the Madchester hooks with which I had been obsessed. As you may recall, I’ve already made mention on these pages that my tastes tended to British music in the early 1990s. American alternative rock had turned its ears to Seattle and Canadian bands were following suit,
Pure, though, were a four-piece from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada that formed in 1991. The original members comprised of drummer Leigh Grant, bassist Dave Hadley, guitarist Todd Simko, and vocalist Jody Birch. They got their first taste of success when one of their tracks appeared on the soundtrack for “Cool world”, a half animated/half live-action film that featured a young Brad Pitt. Then, their debut album, “Pureafunalia”, was released in 1992 and it’s first single, “Blast”, hit the airwaves and music video channels and thus, caught my attention. That track was just shy of making it on to this very list but there was no way “Spiritual pollution” wouldn’t be included. Sure, it wasn’t released as a single until the following year but I was already hooked on it from listening to that debut album in 1992.
A dirty and cool guitar riff opens the proceedings, putting a strut in your step and a feather in your cap. And then: Bah dah da-da-da-dah, duh duh duh da-dah… oh, the glorious horns. The beat pops and cracks in, sounding like robotic handclaps, the synth bass washes, and then, that guitar riff and the horn flourishes return for more fanfare. And over top it all, frontman Jody Birch is just cool, laying it all just there, a hepcat, not needing our spiritual pollution. No, not at all.
That debut album mixed dancefloor grooves with 60s psychedelic guitar rock but later on, their sound tended to be more pedestrian, and though I enjoyed their sophomore release, 1994’s “Generation six pack”. My love affair with the band started to fizzle from there. But we’ll always have the horns of “Spiritual pollution”. I could listen to and hum that riff all day long… Especially on this odd Canada day…
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1992 list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 