While many listeners will be hit with a wave of '90s-era nostalgia after tossing on Canadian indie folk player Hayden's Everything I Long For, the now 20-year-old album possesses a lot of timeless qualities. Check, for instance, "We Don't Mind," a tender acoustic piece about two lovers calling in sick so they can spend some extra time together. While easily relatable, younger fans just getting into the singer-songwriter's early years might be confused as to why the narrative takes the pair outside to make the calls from a phone booth instead of just dialing from their iPhones in bed. For that matter, they might also scratch their heads trying to figure out exactly what the hell a phone booth is.
"I made that joke at some of the concerts – 'There's technology references that some people in the audience won't understand," Hayden says with a bashful laugh of playing the tune on a recent leg of anniversary dates behind the album, which was also given a deluxe vinyl release earlier this year.
The celebrated folksmith is on the line from his Toronto home, where he and his wife are spending the day crunching numbers for their annual Dream Serenade benefit concert, but he's also gearing up for a second leg of Everything I Long For shows across Western Canada. Released domestically in 1995 and internationally a year later, Hayden says he hadn't played most of its songs for 18 years before bringing them back on the road last spring. Even signature single "Bad As They Seem," a detuned acoustic jam that became a MuchMusic staple in the mid '90s, doesn't get brought out every concert. That he's skipped out on showcasing these songs in favour of broadening his repertoire has made revisiting the material a revelation.
"It was a bit like reading a diary of a much younger version of myself, a less jaded and more romantic person," he offers, though it's worth noting that 2015's Hey Love LP still possesses plenty of heart-thumping passion. "A lot of [the old songs] were little pieces, little things that happened. If I hadn't written them down, they would've disappeared. They're like family stories that get repeated over and over again."
Beyond personal growth, what's arguably most different between Everything I Long For and the rest of Hayden's catalogue is his vocal delivery. Over the years, Hayden's honed a hushed and sigh-worthy singing voice, but his debut full-length also mixed in gruff, throat-grumbling howls that make him sound like a cross between a whiskey-drunk Tom Waits and a black bear rudely awoken from its winter slumber. Whether placed atop the tragi-blues strums of "Skates," or the bashed-drum attack of "When This is Over," the vocal aggression is jarring.
Hayden wanted to play the songs as he had when he used to play solo sets "between really loud grunge bands," but he didn't prepare for the tour by screaming himself hoarse at home.
"I didn't want to scare the kids," he says, before correcting himself. "Actually, I did once. I ran over 'Skates' once. My daughter laughed every time I sang loudly. She thought it was hilarious, so I stopped any kind of rehearsal. Before the first show, I was hoping that those loud sections would be OK and that I wouldn't lose my voice. It turned out well."
The Everything I Long For anniversary shows have had Hayden playing his old album front-to-back, a move in line with a number of other milestone tours and fest appearances from veterans of the alt-rock scene. Hayden notes that he hadn't ever done this when the album was first released, and admits that presenting the shows like this is a little weird for him.
"I don't generally like to do what's currently going on – I shy away from it," he says. "Part of me thinks it's kind of cheesy, and to be 100 per cent honest, sometimes I look at bands that do this kind of thing and I think they're doing it because no one cares about their new stuff. Those are reasons why I was on the fence about it."
His caginess on the matter was smoothed over once he started talking to fans at shows, many whom have stuck with him for decades after first hearing that beastly baritone booming over a beautifully strummed tune. "For a small group of people, this album meant a lot," he concedes.
Hayden also feels good knowing that while he's currently out promoting 20-year-old songs, there's plenty of new music on the way too. He's been working on a book-and-album project with author Colin McAdam, which is apparently almost ready to wrap.
While Hayden may have initially been a bit concerned about perceptions of giving the faithful a highly concentrated dose of oldies, things aren't really as bad as they seem.
"I know it's a nostalgia thing, but that doesn't have to be a bad word."
