There is no denying that art influences art. As one of the finest (and most shallow) thinkers of our time once quipped: What is art? Are we art? Is art art?
This fact has never been lost on cagey record labels and A&R types, who tend to focus on artists who seem familiar rather than those who don't. Nowhere was this more apparent than in Canada during the latter third of the 20th century, when a great many of the Canadian artists you'd hear on the radio were essentially the domestic counterparts of popular favourites from the United States or UK. Sometimes, the lines drawn were completely superficial and had little to do with how the music actually sounded. They had more to do with pants and lighting and hair and sunglasses.
Example: the video for I Mother Earth "So Gently We Go". The clip seemingly was influenced by the videos for Temple of the Dog "Hunger Strike" and Blind Melon "No Rain"--in retrospect, 1992-1994 was a watershed time for "Hey, look at us! We’ve set up our instruments in a field!" music videos. Now, not only was I Mother Earth similar to these other bands in their desire to crouch in long grass, they were also similar in their look and appearance: reasonably good looking white guys in hemp necklaces and considerable haircuts. But otherwise, these three outfits were pretty different in terms of how they sounded. I Mother Earth were friggin' heavy when they wanted to be. Blind Melon were quirky and poppy, almost veering into Violent Femmes territory at times. Temple of the Dog were austere and earnest. But the end game was the same: Canadian fans of Temple of the Dog and Blind Melon now had a new band to enjoy with minimal effort and transition. Again, purely from a superficial level since they'd never even consider getting into I Mother Earth if they looked like the guys in Poison. This was 1994.
Canadian popular music history is wrack with these kind of case studies but to be fair, it works both ways.
One could suggest that Toronto's Fifth Column helped pave the way (and mold the template) for the unbathed ladies of Bikini Kill, Huggy Bear and much of the Riot Girl movement, considering their roots go back to the early Eighties. As an aside, Fifth Column had a tune called "The Fairview Mall Story" about a gay police shakedown that took place at this North York shopping plaza during the mid-Eighties. It was rather exciting to hear people singing about Fairview (in spite of the subject matter) since I grew up five minutes away. I only wish Hayden, Poledo or the Scam Artists could've written a tune about the much maligned Thornhill Square during its heyday. Hot Diggity Dog, Key Nook--we will never, EVER forget you.
Likewise, the Germs (or at least their brain dead singer, Darby Crash) were basically a SoCal version of what Steve "Nazi Dog" Leckie and the Viletones were doing up north months prior. However, one could also argue that both these numbskulls were just taking Iggy Pop's shtick and putting a regional spin on something that wasn't theirs to begin with.
So yeah, both ways but moreso Canada aping elsewhere. Here are 10 life-altering proof points. All “net new”.
Lighthouse - Canada's answer to Chicago
To be honest, this is based entirely upon a decade long confusion between "Saturday in the Park" and "Sunny Days". Turns out both tunes were released in 1972 and both outfits put out their debut full-length in 1969. I'm going to plead ignorance on this since I wasn't ever born when this was all going down.
OK, this is more like it and similar to the I Mother Earth/Temple of the Dog/Blind Melon example from earlier. Lisa Dalbello seemed to be cultivating an image that was very similar to Cyndi Lauper, with bits of Siouxsie Sioux thrown in for good measure. But sound-wise, miles apart. Lauper was Top 40 all the way, focusing on party tunes and big ballads. Dalbello was more obscure, sounding like a less theatrical version of Kate Bush or Grace Jones with hooks awash in the overproduced, synth-heavy style of the times. Unrelated, Dalbello's "Tango" is a candidate for most ridiculous-yet-awesome track of 1987. She is also somewhat foxy in the facial department. I mean, she looks a bit like a fox.
Doug and the Slugs - Canada's answer to Huey Lewis and the News
Sweaty, brash bar bands with gregarious everymen out front. This one is way, way too obvious. The late Doug Bennett never had the chiselled good looks of Huey Lewis but that didn't stop he and his Slugs from capitalizing on the... Wikipedia update: Many of the Slugs' biggest hits actually hit before the News had their first Billboard Top 10 smash. So perhaps the climate was just right for blue collar rock bands that appealed to factory workers who enjoyed a solid pop hook but found the Cars and Cheap Trick "too weird". Let's go with that.
This is interesting. Based on marketing alone, you’d think Kon Kan were positioned to be Canada’s answer to the Pet Shop Boys: two dudes—one out front delivering deadpan vocals with the other in back, messing around with a synthesizer and seemingly the “brains” of the operation. Often while wearing a hat. Um, this sounds like Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe to a tee, no? And yet in sound and composition, one could argue that Kon Kan were more akin to M|A|R|R|S or the Timelords, since all three outfits managed to score mainstream hits with quirky sampling and dance beats, effectively predating the whole early 00s mash-up craze by over a decade. Interesting indeed and I still think “I Beg Your Pardon (I Never Promised You a Rose Garden)” is one of the more bizarre singles to ever make the Canadian Top 20.
Sheree – Canada’s answer to Taylor Dayne
I seriously hope there was a meeting at BMG’s Canadian HQ in the late Eighties where some skeevy dude with a ponytail uttered, “Find me Canada’s Taylor Dayne. Pronto!” Or something like that. It’s one of the only plausible explanations as to why Sheree (not to be mistaken with Sheree) got signed. In fairness, Taylor Dayne was kind huge at the time so it was a calculated risk. But it both instances, it showed that sassy blondes often have a limited shelf life in the music business, with the possible exception of Edgar Winter.
Bootsauce - Canada's answer to the Red Hot Chili Peppers
An embarrassment on multiple levels, Bootsauce might be the ultimate Canadian copycat example of the last quarter century. For those not hip to the scene, Bootsauce were a group of funky customers from Montreal who were barfed out on to Much Music in the early Nineties, après the success of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Jane’s Addiction and other groovy rock bands featuring shirtless dudes playing slap bass. These guys were super annoying and yet scored a few mid-sized hits, namely a cover of Hot Chocolate’s “Everyone’s a Winner”. Luckily, they had zero staying power while the Peppers quickly veered into M.O.R. territory by the late Nineties. Lesser of two evils?
Delerium - Canada's answer to Enigma
The concept of blending beats, Gregorian chants and classical is still pretty obtuse by today’s standards but also completed dated considering the notion enjoyed its commercial peak close to two decades ago. Enigma pioneered this sound with their creepy 1990 smash “Sadeness” (what’s with the extra ‘e’ BTW?!?) and birthed a few ill-advised imitators. Delerium were one such outfit as some dudes from Front Line Assembly smoothed their MO post-“Sadeness” to spit out a few decent singles that appealed to smug urban dwellers. Then, Portishead showed up and everybody glommed on to that for a while. File all this (stuff) under “What would Dead Can Dance do?” and I guarantee that people wouldn’t have danced to “Flowers Become Screens” if Enigma hadn’t come first.
The Gandharvas – Canada’s answer to Blind Melon
This is an example that is entirely based on two tracks: the aforementioned “No Rain” and the Gandharvas’ only major commercial smash, “The First Day of Spring”. May I be so bold as to suggest it’s impossible to like one without liking the other? The vocals, the arrangement, the timing, the clothes. Everything points to YES and everything points to somebody trying to break this London outfit as Canada’s trippy, dippy approximation of Blind Melon. Even better, you could argue that the Gandharvas second biggest track “Downtime” was basically a Canadian take on the Pixies’ earthy classic “Dig for Fire”. So similar, man!
Burlington, Ontario shoegazers SIANspheric clearly took notes when listening to their Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine albums, as their mammoth debut Somnium was heavily indebted to these bands in sound, texture and even cover art. That being said, it seems that anybody who was a fan of this album or saw SIANspheric live would contend that they were every bit the equal of their UK forefathers and have subtly released one of the stronger Canadian debut albums in recently memory. But man, the cover art for Somnium looks like a dot matrix equivalent of Loveless.
The Stills - Canada's answer to Interpol
A final example and one that took place right as the record industry was imploding. The Stills were marketed as dark, brooding and influenced by the murky edges of Britpop and Joy Division/the Cure/etc. Essentially, the exact same image that Interpol used to bust out of New York in 2002. Unfortunately, Interpol were kinda drab and their songs didn’t really have legs beyond their year of release IMHO. The math is pretty simple if you extend to the Stills.
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