It’s a half hour before soundcheck when the Westender reaches Corb Lund, currently on tour with his band the Hurtin’ Albertans, in Amsterdam.
This night is the second of two back-to-back shows in the Netherlands, where Lund and the band are regaling their cross-continental fans with tales about the wild and wicked Great White North.
“Europeans don’t really like radio country or corporate country over here. They like some of the older stuff,” Lund explains over the phone.
Whether that means classic cowboy ballads or “older stuff” from Lund’s personal discography, there’s plenty. The 45-year-old Alberta native has nine studio albums and more than 25 years of music under his belt — lest we forget his musical inauguration in 1989 with indie-punk band, The Smalls. The group, heard primarily on indie and college radio stations through the ‘90s, temporarily reunited for a slew of shows back in 2014.
“We had a really good show out here last night in Holland, there were lots of people [and] we’ve never been here before. It makes you feel good. People like it when we go overseas and sing songs about Western Canada, you know?”
For those not familiar with the singer’s work, Lund is essentially the poster boy for Canadian cowboy music — chocked full of simple western chord progressions, rockabilly riffs, and lyrics that revere ranch life in the Rocky Mountains.
“There’s a lot of Western Canadian stuff in our music that we sing about, and it’s kind of cool. I feel like a little travel ambassador,” he says with a laugh, a glimmer of his rural Alberta accent coming through.
Anyone who’s travelled to Europe and sewn a little Canadian flag patch onto their backpack can attest that being from the Great White North carries a certain popularity with our neighbours over the Atlantic.
But, of late, Lund’s music isn’t just about being a ranch-hand and firing fun-loving pistols. The band’s latest release, Things That Can’t Be Undone, is mired in themes of grief and emotional rawness.
“There’s a lot of loss on this record,” Lund admits.
The 10-track album was released in October by the Tennessee-based New West Records, which boasts having artists such as Dwight Yoakam, Steve Earle, and Kris Kristofferson on its roster.
“There were a lot of deaths in the family. It was a rough couple years,” Lund says solemnly. Those deaths include the losses of his father, grandmother, and young niece.
“[Writing about personal pain] is kind of how I process things, usually,” he says. But is he shy about baring all to his listeners? Not so, it seems.
“It’s good to share the stuff, to air it out, with people. One of my favourite things about playing music is the communication between the audience and the band; playing to them is like instant feedback. As you’re playing you can feel it. It’s like an hour-and-a-half long, non-verbal conversation with the audience.”
Getting personal, and letting the rough parts come through, is something Lund’s been working on in the last decade. What once was a bashful performance, is now a poised, self-assured act.
“It takes a certain amount of experience to become confident in your stuff because when you’re younger you want to make everything perfect and shiny and put extra stuff on it, and as you get older and more confident in what you’re doing, you kind of just let things breathe and stand on their own,” the singer reveals.
Such was the case with Lund’s most recent release — which was recorded live off the floor — in the same room that once housed Elvis and Johnny Cash.
“We’re not using studio trickery, we just sort of put the four of us in a room and made something and went for it. I like music that has a few rough spots in it. It’s hard to remember that when you’re making your own album because you want to make it perfect but sometimes it’s good to leave some warts on it,” the Alberta songwriter says.
In fact, the singer and his band don’t even stick to a set list anymore.
“It’s been years since we’ve used a set list. I like the spontaneity of that. I’ve gotten pretty good at reading audiences and sort of figuring out where the energy is; if it’s going to be a more rockin’ show, or if it’s going to be more introspective, more country,” Lund muses. “There’s a few layers of conversation going on beyond the verbal stuff.”
What layers get peeled back during Lund and the Hurtin’ Albertans’ performances at the Commodore next weekend, only time will tell. Just be prepared for a musically spiritual experience.
“Music is the closest thing to religion for me. That, and the Rocky Mountains,” the singer says, resolvedly. It’s not hard to sense, even 10 minutes to showtime in Europe, that our poster boy for Western Canadian music is feeling a little homesick.
• Corb Lund and the Hurtin' Albertans perform the Commodore Ballroom on Jan. 29 and 30.
