Sloan: Alive and Kicking

"If you're trying to climb the ladder/don't let people walk all over you/'cause that's just what they'll do" —"Autobiography"

It's a lyric that you might expect Chris Murphy to have written in 1995. While he and the other three members of Halifax quartet Sloan (Jay Ferguson, Patrick Pentland and Andrew Scott) were trying to sort out the future of their much-ballyhooed record deal with America's David Geffen Company (DGC), the Canadian press was rapidly spreading rumours of the group's demise. While all four of them were trying to balance their outside projects with a summer tour schedule, each show was promoted as their last. It seemed as though the ladder so publicly bestowed on one of this country's favourite musical underdogs was about to turn into a snake.

Yet "Autobiography" was actually written over five years ago, when Sloan was just a new project for Murphy (playing bass at the time for Black Pool) and guitarist Ferguson, a Kearney Lake Rd. bandmate. It was about the time that they hooked up with guitarist Patrick Pentland (ex-Happy Co.) and drummer Andrew Scott (formerly of No Damn Fears), and got a gig opening for Bootsauce which produced a three-song cassette recording. It was before one of those songs, a sharp-witted tune called "Underwhelmed" got the band touted as "Canada's Nirvana" turning the Maritimes into an A&R hotbed and forever altering the Toronto-centric balance of this country's music industry. In 1991, if Chris Murphy had anyone walking all over him, it would have been a private matter. Song inspiration, perhaps, but nothing worth stopping national presses for. In 1996, the year "Autobiography" finally appears on record, none of Sloan's members can expect much privacy anymore.

Photo by Helios

It's only been a few months since the news of a new Sloan album started buzzing, but since the band entered Halifax's Idea of East studio last December both friends and critics have been eagerly awaiting the recorded results of last summer's unrest. They wondered if the band would use the Sloan name, or if it had to be turned in with the termination of its arrangement with DGC. They wondered if the new disc would return to the (dare I say it?) grungy basement rock sound of the band's full-length debut, Smeared (1992), or continue along in the smoothly produced vein of  Twice Removed (1994). Most of all, they wondered if Sloan was all they'd made the group up to be.

Enter One Chord To Another, the true taste test. The fact that "Autobiography" blends in so well with the disc's other 11 tracks is a good sign, proof that the reasons Canada became so enamoured with Sloan five years ago still exist. The foursome produce timeless music, capturing not only the "Gen X" discontent they're known for, but a universal spirit of youthfulness. It's another feel-good record, bursting with infectious melodies and even more sharp-witted pop tunes. If "Underwhelmed" pegged the band as cute and jocular, One Chord To Another will not serve to shake the tag, much to the band members' chagrin.

"This is a total sore spot," admits Murphy of his tongue-in-cheek lyrics. "Everyone is rolling their eyes at me. [Beautiful eyes?—Punnier than thou ed.] I get accused of going over the top, and yes, 'Autobiography' is pun-central station, but I never want to be accused of writing comedy albums set to music."

"Everyone" means Ferguson, Pentland and Scott. All four members are in Toronto together, weathering in solidarity the pryings of a scrutinous media, finally given a chance to ask Sloan about The Alleged Break-Up under the guise of promoting the band's newest release. Some journalists are more subtle than others, but everybody asks. Yet no one member is responsible for the explanation, no one member fields them off alone. It's the fortunate by-product of Sloan's democratic make-up. The four-headed monster, it's been called. At times like these, when everybody wants an answer from you, it's kind of convenient that no man is "in charge." It's obvious, though, from the members' distinct personalities that if need be anyone could step up to the spotlight, especially Chris Murphy.

"I thrive on attention," he admits. "Let me shine the brightest, sure, but I really like the aesthetic of a group, rather than a guy and his buddies. It's not that we don't want to be stars, it's that we want to be four superstars."

That level playing field has always been a part of Sloan's music, too. From early on, each member has been a songwriter, a vocalist and an equal contributor to the Sloan sound. On One Chord To Another, the tradition continues, with Murphy penning and singing five tracks, Pentland three (including the first single, "The Good In Everyone") and Ferguson and Scott each two. That means that like previous works, this new release has several distinctive sounds. It's the split personality Sloan has been criticized for in the past, but the band has no intentions of changing it. The foursome believe that on One Chord To Another the system has worked its best yet.

"When you're four superstars, like we are, and everyone is there for the whole recording process, it's like... everyone says 'I can't hear me' until the ultimate compromise is perhaps flat sounding," explains Murphy. "On Twice Removed, everyone is sort of vying for first place, but on this one the things we want featured come up and dominate more."

Pentland agrees. "There's a bit more sense of space," he explains. "A lot of times we used to think that because there's two guitar players there has to be two guitars playing all the time. With this record, that's not necessarily the case."

So while the band admits that Twice Removed was perhaps a reaction against Smeared, it also claims that One Chord To Another is a conscious evolution of neither. "If Twice Removed was a specific reaction, this one is more what comes naturally," explains Scott.

It's obvious that much of what One Chord To Another is arose from the setting in which it was created. After adhering to major label schedules for its last two releases, Sloan was free to record and release this album at its leisure. At the height of the band's prosperity, Chris Murphy and Jay Ferguson set up Murderecords, an independent label to promote other bands from the region that they wanted to support (Jale, Hardship Post, Thrush Hermit). At its outset, it could have been called a vanity label, but in 1996, without a record deal at the ready, Murderecords turned out to be the best way for the two to promote their own band. The first Sloan album on Murderecords since 1991's Peppermint EP (last year's "Stood Up"/"Same Old Flame" 7" single notwithstanding), One Chord To Another is not an album you would have heard on a major label like DGC. The production sound is minimal, sometimes sloppy, they've included trumpets (rather than the trendy fiddle), and the '60s and '70s retro elements are not some cheesy marketing gimmick for Modern Rock radio, they're heartfelt.

"I would say that we are more real and emotional, rather than singing about playing with Battlestar Galactica toys, or saying 'hey, remember Star Wars?'" claims Ferguson. "We're not calling ourselves 'Kickstand Travolta' and making up '70s style logos or anything."

That Sloan is able to control its image and put out a record more likely to make history than millions might be one good reason to applaud the severance. Yet just because Sloan has a new record on the shelves, live shows lined up (including a night time spot at the three-day Toronto-area Edenfest extravaganza) and a career that appears back to normal doesn't necessarily mean the band is totally thrilled about its departure from the major label high life.

"I didn't want to be dropped by Geffen," admits Murphy. "I thought it was the grossest thing that could happen."

"We should clarify that we weren't dropped," adds Pentland. "They [DGC] wanted to pick up the option of the next record, but we said we didn't know if we wanted to do another record. If we had said 'we really don't want to be on your label and you're really holding us back,' there's a good chance that they would have let the band go."

"Yes, they maintained that they would want to continue a relationship with us," agrees Murphy. "But to me, even though I [felt] a certain amount of 'I want to quit before I'm fired,' it was more about thinking 'there's a window of time in our contract that maybe if we don't want to be in this band we can probably get out.' A lot of people pit us against Geffen, like as if Sloan is unhappy [but] the whole experience has not been hell. They were really cool with us. They let us go, and I love basically everyone who worked at Geffen."

Being dropped by a major label is something the general public (made up of many struggling artists themselves) can get its head around, but volunteering to leave a company like DGC, home to bands like Hole, White Zombie and (duh!) Nirvana is a bit of a brain bender. So why did Sloan want out? There is no straightforward answer.

In the band biography accompanying One Chord To Another, extensive touring in support of Twice Removed is named as one major cause of the band's disenchantment. ("It's like inertia on wheels," claims Scott.) Lack of support from the label was also a hindrance. Although critically acclaimed, the slick, Beatlesesque disc was not making much of a splash with the indie rawk kidz, and the Sloan guys found themselves even having to fund their own video (for the second single, "People Of The Sky"). But more than any of this, four years as a group was wearing on its members. "We really needed some time apart to put things in perspective," explained Pentland in the bio. So how did this career philosophizing by four guys become national news for months? Would you believe it's a long story?

"We didn't tell anybody that we were taking a break or breaking up," begins Pentland. "The whole news story about us breaking up was basically based on rumours on the internet. It potentially could have screwed things up for us, because we had a tour lined up already for the spring and then this came up, with the tour dates announced later. We didn't want it to look like we were capitalizing on us breaking up, like listing it as our final tour and making a shitload of cash. I was pissed off about this one journalist named David Rodenhiser, who used to write for [Halifax's] Daily News. Basically, I told him there was nothing to these rumours, that we were not breaking up. 'Well, it's on the internet' he said. 'Why would they write about it on the internet if it's not true?' And then it was on the CP [Canadian Press] wire the next day. And it was a big deal. We're still explaining it to this day, and if he'd listened to me and not printed that story, things would be a lot different now."

Like One Chord To Another might not include the song "Can't Face Up" written by Pentland partly in response to the internet rumours, and cowards in general. But critics wonder why Sloan didn't face up in the midst of the all the speculation to set the record straight.

"Yes, there was a point when perhaps we could have [stopped the rumours]," admits Pentland. "But we thought maybe it would be easier for us to say that we are just going to break up and maybe get back together next year than to do a press conference and say 'No, it's not going to happen.' Because technically, it was maybe going to happen. We didn't know. There were times like Edgefest [Toronto area radio station CFNY's annual music festival] when Chris was saying 'This is our last show' and we sort of felt like it could have been."


Photo by Helios

The irony is not lost upon the listener who figures out that Sloan's Edgefest gig is captured for posterity as the introduction to One Chord To Another. Amidst the frenzy of  live audience shouts, CFNY's Martin Streek hollers "would you please welcome to the stage... Sloan!" and the crowd goes wild! The band then launches into "The Good In Everyone" leaving the past behind with a classic fuzzy pop song: handclaps, harmonies, and hip-shaking rhythms. Now, if only the band could agree on what the song's actually about.

"If any of us write a song that's negative towards a person or subject, Chris automatically thinks we're singing about him," claims Ferguson.

"Like 'Good In Everyone'," argues Murphy.

"It has nothing to do with you," explains songwriter Pentland.

"It's sarcastic about me," contends Murphy.

"Holy cow," sighs Pentland, "it's so not about you."

Chock the argument up to being a four-headed monster with four personalities. Yet like Chris Murphy sings "I'm bright and young and gifted/In my autobiography/I figure who would know/better than me" each of them a superstar in their own minds. Rumours, deals and sales figures aside, that's a sentiment an entire nation of music fans already shares.

The following article originally appeared in the July 1996 issue of CHART Magazine.