Cancanon Fridays: morale is low, the weather's good

[NOTE: If you'd like to scroll past the long-winded intro, the videos are at the bottom of this post.]

I do a lot of misguided tween-bashing on this blog. I’m not exactly really sure why, but it’s probably the classic case of bullying to overcompensate for insecurities. Though I don’t remember much of time as tween due to my decade-long alcoholic haze, I do remember it being awkward and, at times, difficult – and this is why I feel that my criticism is just a tad unwarranted. It, like just about every phase in the grand race to death (read: life), was a transition phase in the midst of even more transition phases.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but the tween phase, by definition, was the transition between childhood and early adolescence. It was a time to shed the interests and philosophies of childhood, and to embrace the new, and often frightening, conventions of adolescence. And what a revolution it was – gone were the childhood shows, but we you weren’t necessarily ready for 90210 or Oz. Gone was Raffi and the Muppets (or a genuine ambivalence towards music in general); but, instead of immediately transitioning to Anal Cunt, you eased your way into the music world with top 10, 20, and 30 countdowns on FM radio. Advertisers began to recognize the tween’s purchasing power, and ever-so-slowly, the tween found goods and services marketed directly to them instead of at them. And oh, there was lubricant to ease the transition: we watched Tarzan Dan, PJ Phil, and Snit, listened to lighter Nirvana songs, and shopped at Claire’s (or something).

Of course, let’s not get too wistful about childhood: it returned with faux-irony during late adolescence, when teens embraced Curious George t-shirts, and played drunken Guess Who, and had sex on Twister mats (see Minus the Bear tune 'Crisco Twister'). Of course, this is when teens embraced all elements of their childhood in reaction to their earlier dismissal as tweens. At this point, it didn’t matter if you actually liked Inspector Gadget: you liked Inspector Gadget.

And finally, a return to childrens' culture returned in earnest once settled into adulthood. This is the period that occurs when you are able to selectively discern the appealing portions of your childhood: this is when you decide that you didn’t like Inspector Gadget, but you did like the Muppets; you didn’t like Guess Who, but you loved Operation. It's also during this time that we embrace artists like Sufjan Stevens and the Decemberists, who sounds like childrens' music anyhow.

All of these changes occur in the name of transition. Each transition is a notch in a personal coming-of-age story, where you test new limits and boundaries before settling in on your comfort zone. And, contrary to popular belief, these changes don’t halt once you emerge from adolescence; there’s the Post-Academic Void, the existentialist warzone where you configure your place in the working (and otherwise) world and examine your actual skills and abilities.

Once you’ve emerged from the Post-Academic void, you also must deal with the existential dilemma brought forth by restructuring your demographic identity. Most young-ish adults have spent over a decade being the apple of the advertiser’s eye – being in the 18-25, or 18-30 demographic – and once pushed out of that demographic, the young-ish adult feels remarkably… lonely. The focus of the advertiser’s attention on you is subtler, more subversive; the advertiser's gaze is now diverted to a newer, younger, emerging demographic. Cell phone companies don’t care about you – you already have a cell phone and a plan. Ipods are no longer marketed towards you; pricey Ipod accessories are.

And although I can’t profess to have witnessed any further transitions beyond this point, I can only assume that more transitions will continue to occur. Pressures as a home-owner, a portion of a married couple, pressures as an aging single person, dying parents, ruined economies, failing bodies, disease, cultural insignificance, and eventually death are phases that many / most eventually have to go through.

If you want a preview of – or a companion for – this process, look no further than Neil Diamond’s excellent 2005 LP, 12 Songs.

Anyhow, this Friday’s Cancanon video collection is dedicated to Canadian transitional KY-Jelly. Enjoy, and soak in the awkwardness.

Rusty – Misogyny

Without a doubt, Toronto’s Rusty were my absolute favourite band in my tween period – and, I had absolutely no idea how they’d shape my life-long musical tastes. Formed with members of Halifax’s One Free Fall, original Doughboy Scott McCullough, and topped off with dreadlocked gargoyle Ken McNeil, Rusty produced an excellent, excellent alt-rock LP, Fluke. And they were absolutely visionary, encapsulating a sound that I will forever define with Toronto rock n’ roll; beyond their initial alt-rock leanings, they followed with the country-flavoured Sophomoric and the garage-tinged Out of Their Heads. And beyond that, the above video, Misogyny, was directed by Canadian gay porn star Bruce LaBruce. I didn’t exactly understand the importance of it at age thirteen, but I’ll reiterate it: Rusty were way, way, ahead of their time.

Treble Charger – Morale

Watching Treble Charger’s career progression was like watching a loved one progress into a terminal state. As evidenced via singles like 'Morale,' 'Even Grable,' and 'Red,' Treble Charger wrote a completely Can-specific brand of indie rock – slightly druggy, slightly boring, and quietly fantastic. Another visionary video, Morale predicted the emo explosion that would occur scant years later; not only did Treble Charger’s Self=Title EP include a zine directory, but the ‘Morale’ video featured a horn-rimmed nerd romance that became the fantasy of a generation. With ‘Morale’, the second-wave emo-kid aesthetic was born: they released a video about suburban kids from Oakville, ON or New Haven, CT, Saetia and Indian Summer vinyl slung in their tightly-bound knapsacks, and romances that never occurred because people were to awkward or ugly.

Hayden – Bad as They Seem

Another MuchMusic video classic, and perhaps the crowning jewel of the Sonic Unyon stable, ‘Bad as they Seem’ is still one of Hayden’s most popular songs. And, like ‘Morale’ and ‘Misogyny,’ this song is intensely visionary in retrospect: though it was a song introduced to me in my early adolescence, it’s a song that is most resonant in early adulthood. Though the lyric ‘she’s only sixteen / that’s why she’s only a dream’ is vaguely creepy, especially when sung in Hayden’s disaffected monotone, it’s a sentiment familiar to many fellas, not necessarily in a pedophiliac sense, but it echoes the horror of discovering that an attractive girl is inappropriately underaged. But the lyric ‘go down to the grocery store / meet someone that I’ll adore’ is entirely resonant: for the single, young-ish adult, grocery stores are literal and figurative meat markets. Need proof? Check the amount of locked eyes and silent flirtation occurring at my local grocer – Little Italy’s Dominion/Metro – or the amount of Craigslist Missed Connections that occur at grocery stores. Hayden is called Thornhill’s Nostradamus for a reason.

The Killjoys – Today I Hate Everyone

The Killjoys might have been the perfect band for tweens. With sugary energy and nods to 60s pop, they are immediately accessible for first-time pop culture consumers and hardened Anal Cunt fans. However, their willingness to fuse childish imagery with adolescent malaise make for a perfect bridge for the soon-to-be Anal Cunt afiocionado: they have a song dedicated to party-food, ‘Perfect Pizza,’ videos featuring tiny band members in oversized environs (note: a brilliant metaphor for teens venturing into high school, or transitioning to unfamiliar territories), and a little girl on a tricycle who emulates teenage disillusionment without actually being a teenager (read: hating everyone).

Great Lakes Swimmers - Your Rocky Spine

I perpetually sleep on bands, even if they’re in my own backyard. As this week’s contemporary pick, the Great Lakes Swimmers sound like a Toronto-cized Iron and Wine: whispery, intimate, and fascinatingly down-tempo. And if Iron and Wine serve as an example, the Great Lake Swimmers should appeal from everyone to bubbly, Thornhill International Development students to bearded courier punks. Check out their record Ongiara, it's excellent.
Have a good weekend, we’ll see you next week!