From Survival to Sustainable: Hamilton's Music Scene

Published in HMag: November 2007 Musicians playing musical chairs is hardly a new thing. Indie artists like Matt Mays, Joel Plaskett, Wintersleep and Two Hours Traffic have long had a tightly-knit enclave out on the east coast. Toronto exalts bands like Broken Social Scene, Apostle of Hustle, Stars and Do Make Say Think for their constant collaboration and cross-pollination. Yet there’s something different—something uniquely Hamilton—about what’s currently happening with our city’s music scene. Tides ebb and flow. Seasons change. Scenes split. How do we sustain something so good? How do we preserve and promote Hamilton’s rare musical present so we can enjoy it in the future? “The fundamental thing for [sustainability] is a strong community,” says Andrew Eckart, one of the founders of Hamilton’s recently defunct indie label, Put On Your Drinking Cap Records. “The playing and writing are very strong [in Hamilton] but the amount of people out at shows seems to be a bit of a hindrance.” Eckart advocates a more underground approach including house shows and do-it yourself promotion. He suggests something that will engage the city’s student population and show them that there’s quality music being made beyond the gates of McMaster University, outside the halls of their high schools, somewhere other than on their iPods. This is an approach that’s already been adopted by a large and interconnected collection of local musicians, many of whom hail from McMaster University themselves. Charlemagne, Matt Paxton & the Mountain, the Surly Young Bucks, Ben Somer, The Sweet Homewreckers and Dan Griffin & the Regrets are just a handful of the bands postering the Mac campus and playing basement gigs in Westdale. You’d be forgiven for mixing, matching and mistaking members for one another not because so many of them are shaggy, plaid-clad musicians, but because they’re always pulling the old on-stage switcheroo. Yes, you recognize that bassist from the band you saw last week it’s just that he was playing keys then. Some say the marriage of so many like-minded musicians could hinder their overall progression by making everyone sound the same. Take Dan Griffin, Matt Paxton and Ben Somer for example. All three are singer-songwriters whose songs often feature pedal steel. The folky-guy-and-his-guitar trap is an easy one to fall into—especially when you frequently play with all the other guys-and-their-guitars in town—but each of these musicians stands on his own. Paxton whispers breathy Northern daydreams over a full-on backing band. Somer plays a stripped-down show, employing additional musicians sparingly (a technique that does well to highlight breezy, wide-open songs hinged on gorgeous turns of phrase). Griffin has solid arrangements, clever and nostalgic lyrics, strong vocals and a rocking live sound. Griffin’s brand of folk-rock is a perfect example of how all this musical mingling only diversifies Hamilton’s soundscape. His solo work is far from the rough-edged roots rock he plays with the Surly Young Bucks or the indie-rock he plays with Charlemagne, but both bands could take some credit for pushing his solo material beyond his bedroom door and out into the city. Before joining either band, Griffin played random open mic nights and wrote in his spare time. It wasn’t until he started playing keys for the Bucks that he was inspired to knuckle down and record his own songs, a move which resulted in 2006’s Stars and Satellites, as well as the creation of the Regrets, a backing band that pulls members from Griffin’s other side projects. Aaron Goldstein, a jack of many trades whose prowess on the pedal steel turned him into the steel city’s steel slut, is a regular player with a variety of bands including the Regrets, the Bucks, the Mountain and Ben Somer. He says he can absolutely attest to the positive effects of ensemble incest. It’s rare for a musician to be exclusively interested in one genre. Stepping outside your own projects allows you to indulge your love of other styles which helps you grow. “I’m always in learning mode,” he says. “I strive to learn something from absolutely everybody I play with. I think it would be foolish not to have that aspiration.” Griffin agrees. In the last couple years, all of these bands have enjoyed a marked increase in their levels of musicianship and professionalism. When they first came together, it was with varying degrees of experience and assurance. There was a certain anxiety and lack of confidence about playing live that seemed lessened by the experience of playing with people who were equally unsure. It’s easier to play with your friends. You have common goals. You know what you’re getting into in terms of personality and dynamics. It’s hard to take yourself too seriously when there are four other guys ready to rag on you for being a pompous ass. This is another part of what makes these bands so much fun to watch. Not only can you tell that they’re friends, you feel like they might be your friends. There’s a humility among Hamilton bands that you don’t find in places like Toronto. There’s less hipster self-awareness here, less scene in your face. Hamilton isn’t an uber-exclusive invites-only club. Even as an audience member, you’re part of it simply because you’re there. Being at a Bucks show and recognizing Mike DeAngelis as Charlemagne’s guitarist makes you feel like part of a larger community. “This is really important for any kind of sustainability, musical, artistic, environmental or otherwise,” says Eckart. “To remain a part of something, people need to feel as though their actions contribute, in some way, to the greater whole.” Eckart supports the overlap within the local music scene. In any environment where bands are feeding off one another’s energy, everyone stands to gain. A network provides support. It gives you word-of-mouth. It makes the job fun. It fosters a positive competitive spirit that pushes everyone forward. Where he does see a problem is in the crowd. Hamilton is a sore spot on the tour schedules of a lot of bands because of the empty floors and quarter-capacity bars. Are we a fickle city or an apathetic one? Yes, it’s up to the musicians themselves to entertain us, but it’s a cyclical science. It’s also up to music lovers to get out there and find the bands. “If the community in Hamilton can focus on fostering the communal environment then there is no stopping new artists from popping up and no stopping those already involved from becoming influential on a larger, dare I say, national scale,” says Eckart.