Iqaluit’s The Jerry Cans have always been, and will always be, a band from and for the north. But on Echoes, the JUNO Award-nominated group’s upcoming fourth full-length record (set for release May 15, 2020), they’re not the band they used to be. The record arrives with a wash of glassy, slashing electric guitars, thundering drums, effects-warped throat singing, and darkened violin work. These are sounds of love, anxiety, desperation, and grief, and the tangled relationships between these things. It is intense and heavy, a charred, deep-blue Arctic indie-rock soundscape.
Before talking more about this new album it’s useful to add some background to what Andrew Morrison and Steve Rigby say below:
Iqaluit is the capital of the Canadian territory of Nunavut. The suicide rate is said to be ten times higher than the rest of Canada. It was after watching a documentary about the area that I first heard of Mumilaaq Qaqqaq (Twitter), a 20-something-year-old MP who has been campaigning for more to be done around suicide prevention. The current Covid-19 pandemic can only make matters worse as those that are vulnerable are placed at higher risk due to increased isolation. That the federal government is still to acknowledge the basic inequalities faced by those in the north is surely a disgrace.
As mentioned by Steve below, the area is also beautiful and there are many artists and artisans living there, especially in Iqaluit which is also a hub for creatives of all kinds.
It was an honour to highlight the incredible work of individuals across Nunavut during these difficult times. I also focused on the fact that the federal government must acknowledge the basic inequalities we face in the north.
Full video vvvvvhttps://t.co/CUEVPm03Q8 pic.twitter.com/Uyfu9KhQVF
— Mumilaaq (@MumilaaqQaqqaq) May 8, 2020
The Jerry Cans—guitarist/vocalist Andrew Morrison:
“Over the course of creating Echoes, our upcoming album, two of our childhood friends died by suicide. Losing family and friends this way is not new for the band – or anyone who has spent any time in Nunavut. This song came out of the anger, sorrow, and frustration of this experience. ‘Swell (My Brother)’ expresses a deep frustration with ongoing inaction by the powers that be to appropriately address these issues, and never really seeing any movement. But in the end, ‘Swell (My Brother)’ is a song to honour our friends, our family members, and our community members – a song between friends who grew up and laughed, loved and cried, fought occasionally, and created life long memories with each other.”
Steve Rigby (drummer and video director):
“A very common response I get from people down south when I say I’m from Nunavut is “I could never live there”, and I think that’s just because of how ignorant they are to how beautiful life here actually is. I wanted to show that everyday kind of beauty and why people choose to live here. I basically filmed the places where I spend all of my spare time at home and wanted to show how peaceful it is. Also, as I filmed more and figured that I would be filming everyone individually, I felt it gave the video a sense of being and feeling alone. The thing about it is that when we all feel alone at the same time you can realize that you actually aren’t, because we’re all alone together.
“The video was a super fun project. It included a full day of hunting with an entire drum kit in my boat while waiting for my buddy to meet me out in the middle of the bay, so we could film the kit being played on an iceberg. It was hilarious. Also, one of the smaller drones kept losing satellite signal because of where we are, and one of the guys chased it with the boat as it took off on its own down the bay [laughs]. It had done this before on a different session and hit a cliff, but I had used J-B Weld to stick it back together, which worked great. I also tried to stay out of the shots, so when I filmed Andrew at the sarvaq, I had to hide inside the qamutik to film [laughs]. The best part of that was watching a seal come up right behind him without him even noticing, and then hearing him freak out and run to get the gun on the skidoo while I was still in the qamutik. It was a great project, and Trevor and the team at Build Films were a dream to work with during post-production while addressing my storyline and notes, making that part really fun. Think I might do another!”
The band is stepping boldly into the dark, but they’re doing it together, in the hope of carving out some place brighter.
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Photo Credit: Lauren Troutman