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Peter: Tyler, you picked the subject of today’s chat, Rock Spectacle by Barenaked Ladies. What is your history with the album?

Tyler: Oh, man, brother.  I heard “The Old Apartment” plenty on the radio, back in ’96 and ’97, as the band was making their first inroads into the American market.  They’d been a phenomenon in their native Canada early in the ‘90s, though their star there had faded a bit in the wake of—to some—underwhelming second and third albums.  I liked “Old Apartment” a lot, and even remember parts of the video, but my interest in BNL didn’t extend beyond that.

Then, late in eighth grade, I found myself at a free concert at Sawyer Point in my hometown Cincinnati, together with a dear old friend who’s still my boy today, put together by local popular-rock radio station Q102.  We did some wandering—as I recall, none of the bands were of particular interest to us—and eventually found ourselves at the back of a crowd that was enthusiastically into a five-man band of kooks on stage, these charismatic funny wisecrackers, natural knacks for improvising all, really likable guys.  We may or may not have identified them before they played “Old Apartment,” but either way we walked away with a real damn respect for that terrific batch of Canadians.

By the beginning of my freshman year, then, some months later, I had Rock Spectacle and had rather fallen for it.  It wouldn’t be long before I made time for each record in the band’s catalog.  As I became truly enamored with them, in tandem with another dear old lifelong pal, who, like me, knew the record like the back of her hand, BNL really broke out stateside with “One Week” and Stunt.  “One Week” was a blast and the album had some good work, but it wasn’t my favorite.

I stuck with Rock Spectacle. Their follow-up to Stunt, a terrific power-pop album called Maroon, was a favorite for some time.  Then I went to college, gave one cursory and judgemental listen to a new LP titled Everything To Everyone, and after that was off the Barenaked Ladies train.  Only in more mature years would I realize that the tunes would stick with me, that the many BNL concerts I wound up seeing were exceptional, that I’d in my youth fallen for a truly fine band. 

So, after many years of very intermittent listening—putting the Spectacle rendition of “Brian Wilson” on a playlist, say, or having a nostalgic day or two—I with you come back to RS.  I was nervous about this!  It meant so much back in those days, associated as it was with so many yearning, contrived adolescent emotions.  I didn’t know if I wanted to dig that deep.  But, after suggesting, rescinding, and then suggesting again we look at David Gray, I took one real listen to Rock Spectacle and realized that it’s a must for you and me. We’ll talk the merits and mistakes, but no matter what this album will always have a big ol’ place in my pop culture heart and soul.

Peter: So we’re continuing our “Albums of our Youth” theme, I see. Last time we did Ten. That was my pick. They are very different albums! It was a bit of whiplash going from Pearl Jam to Barenaked Ladies.

I didn’t realize it when you suggested it, but I also have a little bit of a history with this album.

Tyler: Do tell!

Peter: A friend of a friend had it when I was in college and it got played quite a little bit. He was of the Canadian persuasion (the friend of my friend), and a big Barenaked Ladies booster. At the time, I probably would rather have been listening to Vitalogy or In Utero or Superunknown, and, to be honest, I found this album challenging.

That being said, I was eager to revisit it. Looking back, I can recognize why I didn’t take to it at the time, obsessed as I was with the dark currents of grunge. And, while I’m obviously older now, I’d like to think that I’m also wiser, so we’ll see if I can overcome my previous prejudices and discuss this with a new attitude and perspective.

Tyler: It wasn’t an easy era to hang with the cool kids as a poppy-rock band with a song like “One Week” to their name.  I recall at least one snarky and cruel assessment of the band in Cincinnati’s lone indie alt-weekly.  Unfair!

Peter: Mea culpa! I was that snarky voice! I mean, not that specific one, but I certainly shared that attitude and assessment of the band and its whole deal.

Tyler: I do think we’re in a time where it’s much, much easier for a collection of wry and heartfelt goofs like BNL to be accepted in many more crowds than before.  In their own persistent and bona fide way, they’re elder statesmen, having made it through albums and albums as well as the departure of their distinct co-frontman Steven Page.  Last year they released a new LP, and they also in recent years produced a single called “Lovin’ Life.”  I mean, come on.  That’s terrific.

I don’t listen to this new stuff.  Maybe at one point I’ll take that road.  Regardless, it makes me happy to see a beloved old touchstone still out there getting it done.

Peter: Well, alright! You mentioned “Brian Wilson.” It’s our opener. This was a hit! I remember it from modern rock radio at the time.

Tyler: Top-notch.  All-timer.  No notes.

The band actually released two studio versions of “Brian Wilson” in those early years—the first from their debut album Gordon, the second a lusher rerecording called “Brian Wilson (2000)” or some nonsense like that.  Both of those are good, but this performance here is the definitive rendition.  I maintain that it’s just a terrific song, and they perform the hell out of it.

Peter: It’s very bright and airy. You can hear the crowd singing along which is always fun.

The bass really pops on this record. There’s a lot of space in the mix for it.

I did not like this at the time. It was too…happy? I don’t know.

Tyler: Steven Page’s voice, the prominent instrument in all of the songs he performs, is suited perfectly for it.  There’s this esoteric yearning to “Brian Wilson” that could’ve been lame and overwrought in lesser hands.

That said, I know that voice is an acquired taste.  I’ve never been able to qualify or describe what makes it so unique.

Peter: Yeah, that’s a good point. I will say, I don’t love his voice. It’s not a deal-breaker or anything, but I actually prefer the other guy. What’s his name?

Tyler: That would be the delightful Ed Robertson.

Peter: Yes! Ed! I did research this, I just didn’t remember it off the top of my head.

Tyler: Ed’s got a much more “traditional” sound going, absolutely.  I think without him taking over now and again, the Page effect might be too much.

Peter: I did find myself warming to Steven’s voice after repeated listens. It helps that this is live. I can see how his energy would be very endearing in person.

Tyler: It was helpful that they were so clever onstage, their banter so amusing.  Also, while “One Week” especially leaned into that chattering vibe—Ed would often freestyle at some improvisatory point during concerts—much of their work goes into rather grim places.

Peter: I like the next one, “Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank.”

Tyler: I like “Straw Hat” too.  More now than back then.

In those early days, I didn’t quite know how to appreciate a song about stalking and murder.

Peter: It’s definitely darker. I like the accordion. Gives it a bit of texture.

Tyler: That accordion, I believe, is played by multi-instrumentalist Kevin Hearn.  Identified on RS’s cover as “Kevin the New Guy,” Hearn had beefed the band back up to a five-piece after they lost their initial utility guy, Andy Creegan.  Hearn would quickly develop cancer after joining the band, but he beat the hell out of it and remains in the group today.  A fine and very Barenaked Ladies slice of optimism.

Peter: They’re a good band. They sound good together. All the instruments really breathe in the mix.

Tyler: Now, our next song, “Break Your Heart”—I’m of two minds about it.

Peter: Oh?

Tyler: Yeah, y’know, when I was young I loved it dearly.  Had no way of knowing what the lyrics meant—going through the motions with a longtime lover instead of gathering the strength to end things—but Page sings the hell out of it, and the moment where he straight-up shouts was a startling highlight.  There’s a clip of a live performance of the song in a forgotten documentary directed by Jason Priestley (!), called Barenaked In America.  As you certainly can guess that I saw that bad boy in the theater, I remember the close-up on Page’s face as he belted out the words, the volume bracing, spit flying from his mouth—and I report that not to be gross, it was a visceral and necessary part of the visual—and being blown away.  I’m guessing it remains the high point in that movie, wherever the hell it is buried today in 2024.

But now—I guess I can’t listen to “Break Your Heart” every time without occasionally wishing it was over with fast.  I’ve gotta be in a pliable mood for it.  It’s damn near operatic, and it’s so very Steven Page, that I gotta take an emotional pass sometimes.

Peter: I can see that. It’s a big swing. It reminds me of “Oh! Darling,” which has a similar sort of ’50s doo-wop feel. Paul had a hard time nailing that vocal, and John always believed he could have sung it better. It’s a demanding style. Steven gives a good performance here, but it is a little draining. I appreciate its placement on the record. It breaks things up a little.

Tyler: And it’s early.  While compelling, it’s not quite a show-stopper.  Or maybe it was then.  I’m unsure.  I went to a bunch of their shows, but I principally remember the improvs and riffs.

Peter: I remember the next one, “Jane.” We’re back to airy and light.

Tyler: I think “Jane” is just great.

Peter: It was a hit? I remember it being on our local modern rock station.

Tyler: Oh yeah?  A studio version leads off the group’s sophomore effort, the stylistic progression Maybe You Should Drive.  That was ‘94.

Peter: Or maybe my friend’s Canadian friend just played it a lot?

Tyler: I love this song and this performance.  Even the dated Juliana Hatfield/Evan Dando line.

Peter: Oh! I missed that!

I get the reference!

Tyler: I think I knew the basics of it thanks to Rolling Stone.  No knowledge of her work or The Lemonheads’.

Peter: I saw The Lemonheads at First Avenue!

Tyler: Oh snap!

How was that?

Peter: It was fine? I think? So long ago.

Getting back to “Jane,” I’m wondering if my friend’s Canadian friend played this on guitar… A surefire way to ruin a song for everybody else.

Tyler: Oh, Lord have mercy, yes.

No thanks, non-aspiring guitarists across campuses nationwide.

It’s a really nifty song about platonic friendship.  Catchy, perfectly performed.  So good.

Peter: The next one is a real highlight for me.

Tyler: Likewise.

Peter: It’s “When I Fall.” We mentioned secondary vocalist Ed Robertson earlier, he’s on the mic here.

This sounds like Dave Matthews to me.

Tyler: I felt this song so hard.  I didn’t even want to believe it was about a window-washer, which is pretty clear.  I wanted it to be about me, somehow.  The way we all connect with tunes that stir us.

Newly minted Rock Hall member Dave Matthews!

Peter: I think the song works better if you don’t dwell on the window-washer angle. It has larger themes. You were right to draw a deeper connection to it.

Though, to be fair, I’m sure it really resonates for window-washers.

Tyler: Barenaked Ladies are the rare band that can work the word “squeegee” into an exquisite contemplation about life.

Peter: Anyway, it’s a winner. Maybe my favorite on the album.

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