Preview
RED NOT EVIL
Saturday, February 5
Night Gallery
Fact: The minute a band decides they need a name, at least one member will begin to take the act too seriously.
Fact: The minute a band decides upon a name, it will instantly be lumped into a genre it doesn’t feel describes its sound.
Fact: Within a couple of years, ego, boredom or a girl will result in the "amicable" breakup of the band.
OK, maybe these aren’t facts, per se. They come close, though, as do so many other clichés about rock bands – the fact that clichés are couched in truth can never be underestimated. But for most bands, to truly grasp just how truthful a cliché can be will often take several years. And twice as many drummers.
Red Not Evil, however, have found themselves on a seriously accelerated cliché curve, rocketing through truism after truism at breakneck speed. At least, that’s how it looks from the outside.
A quick rundown of the band’s history sees a biography littered with the makings of a cheap Nick Hornby knock-off novel. In brief: five guys decide to start a band. They call it Red Not Evil, and the fact they have a violinist among them immediately causes people to assume they will sound like Godspeed You Black Emperor and Mogwai (which they don’t). They record an album and put it out in association with L’hiver, a group of what is perceived to be art-inspired hipsters, which immediately causes people to assume they are artsy themselves and, as such, must be pretentious, challenging snobs who make music that is pretentious and challenging (which it isn’t, although it certainly isn’t pedestrian). Then the violin player decides the band doesn’t fit in with where his life is going (true) and then the keyboardist departs amidst personality conflict, and now what was once considered a pretentious, challenging, artsy project takes the stage as a three-piece. And everyone in the club who has never heard them before assumes they must be power pop. And everything starts again.
Guitarist-vocalist Brendan Fraser seems nonplussed about the fact that since their inception in 2001, he and the other two remaining members, bassist-vocalist Pete Glim and drummer-vocalist Rich Friesen, have packed in several bands worth of cliché, misinterpretation and misjudgment.
"Becoming a three-piece has been reinvigorating, for sure," he says. "It’s a whole new outlook on songwriting, and interpersonally as well. We’re really tight outside of the band and it makes it even easier to like what we’re doing."
The significant lineup change – from quintet to trio – happened late last summer. While many bands would crumble under the challenge of such a realignment (yes, another cliché), Red Not Evil has actually picked up the pace, playing on average a couple of shows a month. As Fraser sees it, the change has been nothing but positive.
"Honestly, it’s been a lot easier. It’s a lot less jam based and has more specific parts. We were really self conscious the first few shows we played, but the songs have become more fleshed out and intricate. There’s more dynamics because there’s more space to switch on the fly."
The contradiction that the band feels bigger as a three-piece than as a quintet is something Fraser is quick to address. "We never quite grasped what it was like to be a five-piece – we just had everything going at the same time. The three-piece lineup just frees up space in the songwriting. It really allows us to get to the core of the song."
While their 2003 album Everywhere, Canada garnered relatively strong reviews from both fans and critics, the reinvented Red Not Evil has received even better feedback and Fraser feels the band is returning to something the three members wanted from the beginning.
"We’re definitely taking a more rock approach," he says, excitedly. "More punchy, not as melancholic or dreamy. We still have both elements – the more atmospheric stuff and the rockier stuff."
And with new songs comes the prospect of a new album. Fraser reveals a forthcoming record is currently being demoed in the group’s jam-space studio, and plans include extending invitations to a number of outside musicians. Home recording? Special guests? A new album, it seems, means even more sloughing off of clichés. What’s next – an album of outtakes from jam sessions self-indulgently marketed as rarities? Fraser chuckles at the suggestion.
"No, none of that. Maybe a record of our witty banter, though. We’re really good at that in the practice space. But throw a stage into the mix…" he says, trailing off into laughter. |
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