After an intense summer of touring across Canada and the northern US – and an even more intense fall schedule that saw the guys return to the great white north – I sat down with the Austin, Texas-based Bright Light Social Hour for drinks and a wide-ranging conversation. We touched on everything from the difference between Canadian and American crowds, to the naming of their van, losing their equipment on tour and Canada’s national (not really) dish, poutine.
In typically Canadian fashion, my chat with AJ Vincent, Curtis Roush, Jack O’Brien and Jo Mirasole began with beer. Mostly.
Sitting in a pub next to the small venue they were about to play, a classic Ottawa concert spot called Zaphod’s, we ordered a nice cross-section of Canadian brews: bassist Jack and keyboardist AJ drinking the Canadian bar staple, Halifax-brewed Alexander Keith’s Pale Ale; a St. Ambroise red from Quebec for guitarist Curtis; a Toronto-born Steam Whistle pilsner for yours truly; and a Jager-bomb for Jo, the drummer. “You can tell a lot about us from our drinks,” Jo smirked when the waitress dropped them off.
While the suds were sipped, I thought back to when I saw the guys perform for the first time at Ottawa Bluesfest in July. There, BLSH played two sets, including opening for Iron Maiden the first night, and I have since become infatuated with their hard-driving, intense-rockin, disco-funk fusions. So, of course, the thing I always want to know (and the question lots of artists HATE to be asked) is, who do you like to listen to? Who has influenced your sound, and where does it come from?
“Pink Floyd,” said AJ without skipping a beat. Curtis cited blues and funk influences, from James Brown to Sly and the Family Stone. “We like to bring dance music and house to southern rock,” he said.
“How long do you have?” asked Jack, compiling the list in his mind, while Jo – well, Jo likes techno. Before his mini-mixing board got stolen earlier this summer, “I’d do these epic DJ sets for the guys in the van while we’re travelling,” he said.
Which was the mixed blessing of the summer – not Jo’s DJ jams, those are enjoyable. It was that all their equipment and luggage, no less, was stolen in broad daylight out of their locked van in a Saskatoon, Saskatchewan shopping-mall parking lot. (Yes, that is an actual place in Canada. The Rolling Stones once played there.) Curtis and Jack’s custom-designed, VERY worn and “familiar” Fender axes, AJ’s Prophet synthesizer, and Jo’s DJ equipment were all lost to the seedy underbelly of Canada’s middle prairie province.
“After something like that, the world can seem like a pretty dark place,” lamented AJ. “But the response we got just completely cancelled out that feeling.” After posting the situation on their website, the band asked for fans to chip in with donations to help them recoup the cost of their gear – and received nearly 10 grand in just four-and-a-half days.
“It was kind of a blessing in disguise,” said Jo. “It showed us that stuff doesn’t matter, that we could get beyond material possessions.”
Learning to play new instruments, which the guys picked up in Toronto, has been a challenge.
“Other bands we’ve talked to said it happens to everyone at some point in their career,” explained Jo. “But it is a little weird,” said Jack, jumping in. “That old familiarity is gone…it’s like, when you’re stumbling around on stage drunk, and you trip over an amp cable but you still have to hit that next note…the comfortability just isn’t there yet. It’s kinda like getting a new penis.”
Laughing, AJ added – “Ya, now Jack has to break in his brand new penis – it’s 36 inches!”
Little did fans of the band realize they’d be responsible for a dick joke. Said Jack, “We don’t just have fans, we have material supporters – a whole community of dedicated supporters to help us make music.”
And that community of fans has been growing. Opening for Umphrey’s McGee on their current tour, Bright Light Social Hour has been increasing their clout in the jamband community.
“The fans at these shows have been great, they’re so supportive,” said Curtis. “We didn’t really see ourselves as part of that scene – we don’t consider ourselves a jamband, but the fans have been so warm and welcoming, inviting us into the scene.”
This writer, for one, disagrees with the idea that the BLSH is not a jamband as the band’s extended on-stage improvisations, instrumentals and 10-minute album recordings (no less!) proclaim otherwise. Their live performance has definitely been embraced by the jam community, from Austin to Ottawa and beyond.
“Canadian fans tend to be more engaged, more apt to listen,” said AJ of the difference between crowds in the US and Canada. “They’ll give you a full shot, even if they don’t really know you, as opposed to the ‘immediately-jaded’ vibe you get in the US sometimes.”
On their recent hometown gigs, Jack added: “The Austin crowd just dances differently – they’re jittery usually, people never really get down, y’know? Up here everyone is loose and relaxed and having fun.
“Our goal,” he continues, “is for the birthrate to spike after every show – well, maybe not the birthrate, ‘cuz that would be impossible,” he said, drawing laughs from around the table. “The conception rate,” interjected Curtis.
In a philosophical turn to the conversation, the bi-polar nature of the Bright Light Social Hour became more apparent. Directing a question to Curtis, I decided to ask about the meaning behind the band’s biggest hit to date, Detroit.
“It’s a song we wrote when the recession had really taken root, but before the auto company bailouts – when the city of Detroit was already in a bad place,” he began. “It’s about people who spend their lives working towards something, only to have the rug pulled out from under them, and have to rebuild their lives. In a way, it’s kind of a love song, influenced a lot by soul music and that heart of Detroit.”
But while Jo, Jack and AJ allowed Curtis to wax poetic about the lyrics to the song – which don’t mention Detroit but do repeat the sultry refrain, “I need your love” several times – when Jack introduced the tune later that night he simply yelled to the crowd, “This song is about fuckin’!”
Who said art is in the eye of the beholder?
Final note: No cheese curds were harmed in the making of this story, but cholesterol levels did go up. To my surprise, consensus among the quartet was that the best poutine they had was found in Toronto, not on their tour stops in Quebec City. Go figure.
