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Snow depression Roots man Scott Nolan identifies himself as
‘Canadiana music’ Melissa Martin

If you’re looking for the heart and soul of
Scott Nolan’s music, don’t look too deeply within city limits.
Sure, you can find Nolan and his band kicking up their
heels each Wednesday at the warmly communal Bella Vista
pizzeria or providing a rollicking soundtrack to bourbon and
chicken tossing at the Times Change(d) but — even with his
deep local roots — Nolan still flourishes most when he’s
farthest from home.
“In the last year, I’ve become
pretty reclusive,” explains the now-bearded Nolan, sipping a
bottle of juice on an Osborne Village patio. “But I get out on
the road and it’s like… I’m not the same person I am here. I’m
really outgoing out there. I just have a real genuine interest
in meeting new people.”
Through his pen and guitar, a
myriad places and faces and characters are front and centre in
Nolan’s music. His 2003 debut solo album, Postcards, was a
collection of stories both profoundly geographic and
tremendously intimate, spinning tales of guitar slingers,
beer-drinking grandmothers and navy boys around imagery of
endless highways and Alberta foothills.
“I’ve written a
new song for Nanton. There’s a new song for Brooks,” Nolan
says of two Alberta towns that provided inspiration. “They’re
all related to what people have said. In Nanton, this big
drunken trucker leans in to me and says, ‘I’m gonna tell you
what your problem is. You’re a $6 dollar band in a $3 dollar
town.’ Him making that comment got the ball rolling to where I
could get the rest of this song I had been working
on.”
Nolan’s new album, No Bourbon & Bad Radio,
carries on that tradition. With a title inspired by the Bella
Vista, the album is for the most part dreamier and more
reflective than the feisty Postcards — though Nolan still
slips in some of his signature foot-stompers, such as Right on
the Wrong Time.
“It’s fuller sounding (than
Postcards),” Nolan says of his latest effort, which he
self-produced. “We recorded it all to two-inch tape, very much
like the old records. We stuck to older equipment. Sonically,
it’s broader sounding, and there’s a certain kind of warmth to
it.”
Place and time figure prominently on the album. No
Bourbon’s opener is simply named Golden, after the British
Columbia mountain town. Songs such as Sad Story/Beautiful Song
and Rosie explore a dusty, yearning loneliness that could be
found at any highway diner in rural Saskatchewan, while the
album’s dirty, bluesy title track captures the open-hearted
crowd at those Bella Wednesdays (and even features 15 regulars
singing boozy backup vocals).
Other inspiration came
from the town of Slocan, B.C., where Nolan found himself an
unexpected hit at a now-shuttered small-town drinking hole.
“As far as I can tell, this town has been in recession
since its inception,” he says. “But for one reason or another,
it really embraced us. A big chunk of the town came to our
show. People there have no money to spare, but they’ll spare
it on us. I find that pretty inspiring.”
And so Slocan
found itself obliquely immortalized on No Bourbon as the
inspiration for the sauntering roots number Daytime Moon.
With that kind of geographic appeal — and bolstered by
Nolan’s pebbly, whiskey-soaked vocals and the smoky rhythms of
the record’s band (which includes longtime drummer Joanna
Miller and New Meanies Damon Mitchell and Sky Onosson) — the
album becomes a deliciously unpretentious slice of something
that Nolan finds chronically under-recognized: Canadiana.
“It’s funny because you never hear the phrase
‘Canadiana.’ It’s always ‘Americana,’” he says. “But there’s a
pretty old tradition in Canada of that sort of
stuff.”
Now that Nolan is working with a record label,
more people will perhaps get the chance to hear his take on
that High Northern sound. After the former Leaderhouse bassist
and Motel 75 leader left group projects to try out solo
flight, he spent several years building his career
independently. But, after being asked by local label
Transistor 66 to donate a song to the Guess Who’s Home tribute
album earlier this year, Nolan found himself jumping onto the
label’s eclectic roster, which also includes punkers the
Fabulous Kildonans and rockabilly kings The Rowdymen.
Only a month into a formal working partnership, Nolan
is pleased with the Transistor 66 experience, and his
excitement is tangible as the topic keeps worming its way into
the conversation.
“I don’t want someone to do it for
me. I just want someone to do it with me,” he says of his
relationship with the label. “I feel like it’s everything I
could have hoped for. It feels good knowing I have people
behind me.”
With the additional support that Transistor
66 brings, Nolan is ready to strike out on the next phase of
his career. Landing a spot with Transistor paved the way for a
deal with U.K. roots label Sonic Rendezvous, which will make
him European labelmates with one of his heroes, Lucinda
Williams.
While Nolan is hoping to tour there in 2006
with his current band (which includes Miller, Big Dave McLean
band guitarist Chris Carmichael, and Motel 75 bassist Mike
Webster), his ultimate career goals, as always, remain modest.
Perhaps those low-key hopes reflect the fact Nolan has
for several years been living out every musician’s biggest
dream: supporting himself entirely through his music. Half a
decade from now, all he hopes is for more of the same.
“In five years? I’ll hopefully be touring, and playing
to audience of 100 or so people,” he says. “My goals aren’t
set high. I recognize that with what I do for a living, I
won’t ever be able to retire. So I just want to be
comfortable.”
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