Love letter to Halifax

Exactly 17 years ago (around the last time the Toronto Maple Leafs started their hockey season four and oh), the following could be found in the pages of Maclean's magazine: 

"At the Double Deuce Roadhouse, a half- minute motorcycle ride from the Halifax waterfront, the patrons work hard to look as though style is the last thing on their minds. This is, after all, the pinnacle of cool in a city that is suddenly being called one of the coolest on the continent.

Is this the workaday provincial capital, university town and naval port at the heart of the depressed Maritimes? Not according to a recent issue of Harper's Bazaar, the New York City-based fashion monthly, which placed Halifax firmly among a new group of alternative North American hot spots, including Seattle, Wash., Austin, Texas, and Chapel Hill, N.C. In recent months, the British music magazine Melody Maker and the American entertainment weekly Billboard have raved about Halifax and its exploding music scene."

Suddenly billed as the "Next Seattle" by New York and L.A. record execs after the release of Sloan's grunge hit "Underwhelmed", Halifax was decidedly overwhelmed in the early 1990s by the wave of international attention it was garnering for its new-found cultural and musical renaissance. Grunge music had taken North America by storm, and the alternative rock crafted in the basements of that wintry Maritime province was helping satiate the appetite of the masses. To help adults make left and right of this 'next big thing', the CBC produced what are now comically dated news pieces like this one:


"Moms and dads, do you know where your children are? They might be here. It might look like a brawl, but it's called Slam-dancing, and they're doing it to the sounds of Sloan."

Sloan's place at the apex of this movement was not undeserved, given that in a period of two years they had gone from their parents' basements to being signed by David Geffen Records with a North America-wide release for their first full-length record, Smeared. However, while the world looked on in search of the next Nirvana, it is wholly inaccurate to describe the Halifax of the early-90s as Seattle Lite. In reality, the mix of bands that came out of Halifax during this period were playing a wide range of "alternative" music: the hook-heavy garage pop of girl group Jale; the Sonic Youth-like stylings of Eric's Trip; the 70s jangle rock of the Superfriendz, and; the low-fi pop of girl band Plumtree (whose song "Scott Pilgrim" is the inspiration behind comic novel and movie Scott Pilgrim vs. the World).

The story of Sloan is illustrative of the 'mistaken identity' under which Halifax suffered during this period.  When Sloan furnished its Beatles-esque second LP, Twice Removed, to the execs at David Geffen it was met with reticence and disdain as the Brass wanted Sloan to produce more of the grunge sound that had catapulted them to States-side success. But Sloan simply wasn't the next Nirvana, no matter how much David Geffen wanted them to be just that.  While the label was bound by contract to put the record out, it was not well promoted.  Sloan front-man Chris Murphy tells a story about arguing with the band's A&R representation during this time, where he was told that Sloan would get the attention they deserved as soon as another newly-signed band's record had been released. That other band was Weezer, and Murphy says he returned home and flicked on MuchMusic to see an amazing video for this song called "Buddy Holly", and knew instantly that Sloan had no future on the label.  After nearly breaking up, Sloan was forced to leave the city they called home for Toronto so they could start their own label, Murderecords, on which they could release their next album.

As the most successful band to emerge from that burgeoning Halifax music scene, Sloan never again gained a substantial foothold in the U.S. market. But their story is one of many Canadian artists whose particular brand of entertainment is distinctly Canadian, and never ascends to the universality compulsory for popular embrace in the United States.  Sure, Canada has had its fair share of Joni Mitchells, its Guess Whos, and now its Arcade Fires, but there is a litany of quality acts from this country that have been fondly, if selfishly, embraced  by Canadian audiences for their ability to catalog that most mysterious of ideals: what it means to be Canadian.

And it is here that I believe the legacy of the early-90s Halifax music scene can be illustrated by taking a good look at one song: Joel Plaskett's "Love This Town".

Plaskett was front-man for the only other Halifax group to have some U.S. success during the 1990s with his brash 1970s inspired rock band Thrush Hermit. After the group split at the turn of the millennium, Plaskett continued to make records with his newly formed unit The Joel Plaskett Emergency, as well as producing solo efforts of delightful folk rock. One of those efforts was 2005's La De Da, on which "Love This Town" can be found. A quaint love letter to his Halifax stomping grounds, "Love This Town" packs in a host of germane references in a few short verses.  Let's explore...

In the first verse, Plaskett talks to us like the weathered patriarch of early-90s Halifax that he is:

"Listen up kid, it's not what you think/ Staying up too late, had a little too much to drink/ Walked home across the bridge when the Marquee shut down/ There's a reason why I love this town"

Plaskett actually hails from Dartmouth, and the bridge upon which he is stumbling home drunk is actually the MacDonald Bridge across the Halifax Harbour from the big city. The Marquee was a premiere and infamous venue for up and coming acts in Halifax that shut its doors permanently after running into financial trouble due to the difficulties of bringing touring acts to the East Coast. The importance of this venue cannot be overstated, and Sloan makes that point on their 1999 recording "The Marquee and the Moon". Both the Marquee and The Moon were popular music venues in Halifax where, as Chris Murphy tells it, young bands would have to show their chops by playing a round of gigs at The Moon before they could make their way up to the big stage at The Marquee.

Whereas Sloan had not forgotten its Halifax roots, Plaskett had not forgotten the sting felt by Haligonians when Sloan packed up its studio overlooking the Halifax Harbour to make a new start in Toronto.  Plaskett sings:

"I saw your band, in the early days/ We all understand why you moved away/ But we'll hold a grudge, anyway"


Even Sloan seemed to be aware of the conflict inherent in trying to be a commercial success, while still being true to their Maritime origins.  In "The Marquee and the Moon", Chris Murphy sings about how the hype surrounding his band made it difficult for them to keep focused on being themselves:

"But could we have stopped it/ We all get co-opted/ To some kind of system it seems/ To me, 'buzz' is onomatopeia"


Plaskett takes a more positive bent in his recollections of the neighbourly charm of Halifax, when he recounts that "there'll be drinks on the house/ if your house burns down". This line is a reference to the veteran singer-songwriter Al Tuck (signed to Sloan's Murderecords), who had kept on with his weekly Wednesday night gig at the Halifax Tribeca club despite the fact his house had burnt down that morning.  Plaskett also references his old friend "Miniature Tim" who has made some appearances on stage with Joel whenever he plays in Toronto.

In his typical tongue-in-cheek manner, Plaskett also ribs Kelowna for coldly embracing him during a tour stop there in 2005. Playing in a big tent at a Kokanee-sponsored ski and snowboard event, Plaskett was met with a drunken audience of frosted-tip teenagers fresh off the slopes and fresh onto Red Bull and vodkas.  The following verse sums up his sentiments:

"I played a show, in Kelowna last year/ They said 'Pick it up Joel, we're dying in here!'/ Picture one hand clapping, and picture half that sound/ There's a reason that I hate that town"

To cap it all off, Joel coos about "Davey and me/ Face down in our soup", which is a reference to his long-time drummer Dave Marsh and the illness they both suffered on tour with Thrush Hermit years earlier.  In 1999, Thrush Hermit released its final record, Clayton Park, to critical and commercial success, but the band amicably decided to split. Before officially shutting it down, Thrush decided to play a farewell tour with friends The Flashing Lights and The Local Rabbits.  Unfortunately, Thrush Hermit was forced to pull out of the tour due to the deteriorating health of both Plaskett and Marsh; a virus which confined Plaskett to a month in bed, which he later memorialized with his solo record In Need of Medical Attention.

The music created in those heady days of early-90s Halifax provides some fantastic listening nowadays, but there is doubt as to whether much of it is timeless material. What is certain, is that the legacy left behind from that brief glimpse of international attention on the sometimes-forgotten East Coast of Canada has inspired a host of great Canadian artists to emerge in the decade since; artists who have no reason to fear wearing their "Canadianess" on their sleeves.  And for all those reasons, I agree with Joel wholeheartedly: there is a reason that I love that town.