arkells take america
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WEEKEND READERTHE HAMILTON SPECTATOR ❚ AUGUST 14, 2010 ❚ THESPEC.COM
BY ANDREW BAULCOMB
ick Dika is strolling acrossa simmering blacktopparking lot in rural Penn-sylvania. It’s early after-noon and Arkells arepreparing to depart forWashington, DC.
“We’re running a littlelate this morning,” says
Dika. He’s neither angry nor pleased, juststating the obvious to lead singer Max Ker-man.
It’s 30 C in the shade and everyone is already sweating through their tight cottonT-shirts. Dika hands out bottles of water.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, cuttingthe mild but obvious tension brewing in theparking lot.
Twelve hours earlier, the band agreed tobe up and on the road by 11 a.m. By the timeeveryone is showered, dressed and standingin the parking lot, it’s almost noon.
Nobody panics. Nobody steps out ofline. Dissent is the kiss of death for anytouring band and everybody bites theirtongues as suitcases and bags are loadedinto the van.
“We’ll stop in a little while and get every-one some breakfast,” says Dan Griffin, whopromptly shifts the band’s 12-seat Chevyinto drive and pulls onto the highway.
This is the reality of life on the road forArkells, the five-piece, Juno Award win-ning rock ’n’ roll band from Hamilton. Local celebrities. Hometown heroes.
Out here in between the gigs, the awards,the parties and the seemingly endless acco-lades, it’s all about making sure the wheels
don’t fall off.Out here, it’s just five guys, one van, little
money and even less exposure. Welcome to Arkells’ first U.S. tour.
Back on the road, Dika looks much morerelaxed, but still focused. It’s all part of adelicate balancing act the 25-year-oldmaintains daily, and it isn’t easy.
Onstage, he’s the band’s stalwart bassist— one half of a thunderous and hard-dri-ving rhythm section, along with drummerTim Oxford.
Dika plays with precision. With purpose.But there’s also an element of recklessabandon in his demeanour. For 30 minuteseach night, he puts everything on hold andgets lost in the music.
Offstage, it’s a different story. Arkellshave a tour manager in Canada but, withlimited resources and a razor-thin budget,it’s up to the band to take care of themselvesin the U.S.
It’s a role Dika both enjoys and loathes.“In music, when you’re going to lose
money, everyone will sell it to you as an ‘investment tour.’ Essentially, this tour is aloss for us, and we knew that going into it.”
On this investment tour, Dika estimatesthe group will spend between $20,000 and$30,000 of its own money, without know-ing how much will come back to them.
Arkells are signed to Dine Alone Recordsin Canada, home to bands such as Alexison-fire, Bedouin Soundclash and tourmatesTokyo Police Club. But there’s no financialsupport this time around.
Dika hides his emotions well but it’s obvi-ous that money looms large on everybody’smind. After all, this isn’t just a rock band,it’s a small business.
“We’re incorporated in Canada as ArkellsMusic Inc.,” says Dika. “We’re learning a lotabout how to run a business.”
The band’s clean but tightly-packed tour-ing van was a cool $24,000 used and thegear trailer was another $2,500. Insuranceon the van is $9,000 a year, and it costsmore than $100 to fill the gas tank. Expens-es don’t stop there.
Touring the U.S. means everybody needsadditional health insurance and work visas.It costs money to ship any new merchandiseacross the border and the band must paywithholding taxes on any income made inthe U.S. Long distance cellphone bills areanother story.
Without a U.S. bank at their disposal,money has to be transferred back to Canadaimmediately.
“On this tour, we’re getting cheques forshows and cash for merchandise,” says Di-ka, gazing out the front window as we driftthrough the Pennsylvania countryside.
The midday sun beats down hard on I-99,and the view is an odd mix of beautifulrolling hills, expansive country farmlandand monolithic billboards. This is theAmerican heartland in all its picturesqueand kitsch-filled glory.
“I need to take the cash, go to a bank orpost office, get a money order, put the mon-ey order with the show cheques and sendthem back to Canada. I’ll process it all whenwe get back.”
It’s a full-time job on top of a full-time jobfor Dika, and he’s not the only one with a bigresponsibility.
“I don’t like to go out or stay up too latewhen we’re on the road,” says Max Kerman,reclining in a rigid motel bed in Clearfield,Penn., fiddling with his MacBook Pro lap-top.
It certainly isn’t the Hilton but it isn’t adump, either. On average, the band willspend $230 a night on two hotel rooms withtwo beds each and you get what you pay for.
At this particular $90 motel room, thesheets are fresh, the sink is clean and nostrange odours are emanating from the toi-let. This is a good find for the price.
“Keeping my throat in shape is really de-pendent on getting a good amount of sleepevery night,” says Kerman, curling up in apaisley-coloured motel comforter.
Continued on WR2
Arkells, a hard-driving rock ’n’
roll band, was formed in
Hamilton in the fall of 2006.
Four of the five members met
at McMaster University and
two lived in a legendary
student house on Arkell Street
in Westdale.
Not one band member is from
Hamilton but the city and its
people are a continuing source
of inspiration.
The group has a successful
album titled Jackson Square,
toured Canada multiple times
and won the 2010 Juno Award
for New Group of the Year.
This is the story of their first
American tour: the good,
the bad and the sweaty.
Punchin’ inPunchin’ outWelcome to Arkells’ first U.S. tour: Five guys, a van, a tight budgetand a lot of driving rock ’n’ roll
N‘Head on the wall ...’
— from John Lennon
‘We’ve got deadlines to meet ...’— from Deadlines
MIKE DEANGELIS, SPECIAL TO THE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
Keyboardist Dan Griffin and the rest of Arkells are driving to California and back, playing 19 gigs in 18 cities, to capture the hearts and ears of Americans.
WR2 THE HAMILTON SPECTATORSATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 2010 thespec.com
WEEKEND READER
Arkells
Max KermanAge: 23
Lead vocals, guitar
Hometown: Toronto
Nick DikaAge: 25
Bass guitar
Hometown: London, Ont.
Mike DeAngelisAge: 24
Lead guitar, vocals
Hometown: Guelph
Dan GriffinAge: 25
Keyboard, harmonica,
vocals
Hometown: Mississauga
Tim OxfordAge: 25
Drums, percussion
Hometown: Newmarket
MIKE DEANGELIS, SPECIAL TO THE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
Mike DeAngelis keeps a photographic record of the band’s trip across America, sometimes from the back seat of the van.
MIKE DEANGELIS, SPECIAL TO THE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
Tim Oxford and Dan Griffin tuck into one of many deep-fried meals on the road.
ANDREW BAULCOMB, THE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
Mike, Nick, Dan and Max arriving in Columbus, Ohio.
Continued from WR1
“When I have a chance on an off-day to get afull eight or nine hours of sleep, it really makes adifference.”
Kerman is the band’s frontman in every senseof the word. He’s the lead singer, principal song-writer and the voice of nearly every Arkells in-terview. He’s the first man at the merch table after a show and the last man shaking hands andsigning autographs when the band is loading out.
“If you’re drinking beer, only sleeping five orsix hours, sitting in the van and talking all day,the combination of those things is really bad. Itry not to do any of that stuff when we have abunch of dates in a row.”
It may not be a Led Zeppelin-esque lifestylebut temptation is always there. Girls, booze anddrugs are never hard to come by for a touringrock band in a major U.S. city.
In Washington the following night, the band ispresented with a complimentary case of ice-coldYuengling beer in their dressing room and it’shard to resist cracking open a few bottles back-stage.
“Some bands are non-stop,” says Kerman,sinking even further into the sea of pillows andblankets. “Their energy level goes way beyondshowtime and into the late hours.
“With our band, we have to put so much effortinto getting the merch set up, loading the gear in,putting on an energetic show, talking to man-agement and driving. All of that stuff is stressfulenough, so when the show is over we’re usuallypretty tired.”
Oddly enough, Kerman spends most of hisdowntime reading, making phone calls and lis-tening to syndicated sports podcasts on his lap-top.
Music is always the focus, but most bandmembers say they enjoy a little breather in between shows.
“Here’s what I’m reading right now,” says Ker-man, handing over John Feinstein’s Living OnThe Black, a textbook-sized reader about formerMLB pitchers Tom Glavine and Mike Mussina.
The band’s charismatic leader grew up inToronto a self-professed “basketball fanatic.” Heplayed shooting guard as a teenager and idolizedplayers such as Allen Iverson, Vince Carter, andDamon Stoudamire during his youth.
“I was obsessed with sports until the age of 12or 13, but like most guys, that’s roughly the timewhen I fell into music ... and girls,” he says, grin-ning.
Across the street in Clearfield, Kerman’sbandmates are doing their best to catch up withloved ones. Only one room was available at eachroadside motel, and the group is forced to splitup for the night.
The Arkells’ frontman is single, and so is key-boardist Dan Griffin, but Dika, Oxford and gui-tarist Mike DeAngelis are slowly coming to termswith another month on the road without theirgirlfriends.
DeAngelis, 24, is slouched in the hallway withlaptop and headphones in hand, attempting tolink up with his girlfriend for a brief but all-too-important chat.
The band is only 48 hours into their four-weektour and the emotional distance is already takingits toll.
Inside this spacious and brightly lit motel
room, Oxford is absently pulling on his T-shirt,exposing an arm half-covered in tattoos.
“We’ve been together for six years,” says Ox-ford about his girlfriend back home. He missesher already.
“I actually worked with her mom and shehooked us up. We lived together at her parents’place when I went to school in Mississauga andwe eventually got our own place in Newmarket.Now we’re living in Richmond Hill.
“It’s definitely a challenge, but the more weendure, the stronger it gets.”
Missing his girlfriend isn’t the only heartachethe 25-year-old has dealt with during the pasttwo years. Oxford’s mother, Nancy, took a turnfor the worst in her battle with cancer while theband was touring western Canada in 2008.
“I kept insisting on cutting the tour short butshe wouldn’t have it. She wanted nothing morethan for me to take every opportunity and notstop working.”
Like Dika, he’s a calm and quiet soul who hideshis emotions but there’s no doubt the loss of hismother was a watershed moment in the youngmusician’s life.
The band cut the tour short in November andOxford spent Nancy’s last few days on earth byher side.
During the band’s Juno acceptance speech forNew Group of the Year some 18 months later,Kerman dedicated the award to Nancy, whom hecalled “the greatest supporter of the band.” Ox-ford smiled at his bandmate and slowly bowedhis head.
Dika says the longest he’s gone without con-sistently seeing his girlfriend is three months.
Continued on WR3
Oh, the band is coming
‘Your eyes light up, always the same…’— from I’m Not The Sun
C M Y
thespec.comTHE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 2010 WR3
WEEKEND READER
Continued from WR2
“We had a pretty crazy stretch where we dida Canadian tour, then we went to South bySouthwest (Austin, Texas), then we went to theJunos (St. John’s, Newfoundland), then wewent back to Whistler for a ski and snowboardfestival. The longest complete stretch wasprobably four or five weeks.”
The band has been to British Columbia fivetimes during the past two years and this tourwill take them to the California coast and back.
It’s a long haul at the best of times but Dikaand Oxford admit a little distance betweengirlfriends can be a blessing in disguise.
“There’s enough stress on five guys and theirrelationship with each other,” says Oxford. “Ifyou add any kind of friction between someoneand their girlfriend, at least internally withinthe band, that’s really hard.”
DeAngelis enters the room, and decides it’stime to play a little Nintendo and wind downfor the night. Everyone agrees wholeheartedly.
Rolling into Columbus, Ohio, a few days lat-er, Kerman pulls out his laptop and begins por-ing over new song lyrics.
There’s no immediate pressure to finish thenext album, but it has been 21 months since theband’s debut album Jackson Square (named forthe aging mall downtown). The time to hit thestudio is creeping up day by day.
“I really admire people like Cam Malcolm,Aaron Goldstein and Adam Melnick, they’resome of my best friends,” says Kerman, refer-ring to three-quarters of Hamilton riff-rockersHuron. “Cam is one of the most prolific song-writers I know, and his stuff is always incredi-ble. I wish I could write that easily.”
Onstage, Kerman is a force to be reckonedwith. He’s a manic and confident performer,with a booming voice that falls somewhere be-tween Bruce Springsteen and Bryan Webb ofConstantines.
But when the lights go out and Kerman isalone with his thoughts, the 23-year-old is no-ticeably self-deprecating.
“I’m really trying to improve my ability tosing harmonies. Dan (Griffin) can do it natu-rally and he adds so much to our band. I want tobe on that level as well.”
Griffin joined the band in the fall of 2006 andis often described by Arkells as the musicalglue that holds everything together. He’s thegroup’s Renaissance man — a quiet leader who,at age 25, can play multiple instruments, singand compose songs with equal proficiency.
“I originally played the drums, but it was ob-vious that I could contribute in different andbetter ways,” says Griffin, who transitionedover to keyboard when Oxford was brought in-to the fold later that year. Nobody has to spell itout but it’s easy to tell Griffin is held in high re-
gard by all four of his bandmates.Flipping through a CD wallet, Kerman pulls
out Yer Favourites, a compilation of classicTragically Hip singles.
Quietly singing along to Long Time Running,he drifts in and out of a light sleep as the con-voy pulls into yet another McDonald’s. It’sdinner time, and with a limited budget, it’s 99-cent salads and cheeseburgers for everyone.Enjoying a meal at a proper restaurant is rare,so everyone shares an “eat fast food or go hun-gry” mentality, like it or not.
Several hours later, with the sun setting be-hind the Basement nightclub in Columbus, theband shifts its focus to playing. Putting on agood show is crucial, especially in untestedwaters.
The split-level club is long and narrow fromfront to back and quickly becomes dark,cramped and sweaty as fans of Tokyo PoliceClub filter through the front door. It will be an-other full room when Arkells hit the stage.
DeAngelis is easily the band’s most intro-spective member, both on and offstage.Strands of long dark hair fall over a set of deepbrown eyes and it often feels as if he’s thelargest presence in the room even while beingperfectly silent.
“I usually play this Fender Jazzmaster, it’smy go-to guitar,” says DeAngelis, standingover his large and fully-customized effectsboard with multiple fuzz, distortion and delaypedals at his disposal.
“I also have a backup Stratocaster that Ibring on the road but I love this guitar,” he says,
caressing the woodgrain-coloured Jazzmasterwhile quietly setting up his gear.
After the band sound checks, all five mem-bers regroup in the parking lot to change intofresh collared shirts, stretch out their arms andlather on some deodorant. There won’t be alaundromat available until next week in Oma-ha, so nobody even blinks if the same outfit isdusted off for multiple gigs.
Each show is the culmination of countlesshours in the van, tight scheduling, little sleepand terrible fast food, so it’s important to nail itevery night.
The Columbus gig goes well and with ashorter drive the next day to Indianapolis,everyone has a few drinks with headlinersTokyo Police Club on their massive and fully-furnished tour bus.
Everyone except Dika, that is. He returns toone of the band’s tiny hotel rooms at the RedRoof Inn to send business e-mails and countthe band’s earnings. Even if he wanted to go outfor a beer, a job still needs to be done.
“He’s such a good guy, he’s invaluable to us,”says DeAngelis, strolling back to the hotel sev-eral hours later.
Seizing a chance to finally sleep in the nextday, the band relaxes in their quiet seventh-floor hotel rooms before setting off for Indi-ana. Pack, drive, play, repeat. It’s a vicious cy-cle, but one the group has fully accepted andembraced.
‘Hit the street, on your feet ...’— from Blueprint
DUSTIN RABIN FOR DINE ALONE RECORDS
From left, keyboardist Dan Griffin, bass guitarist Nick Dika, guitarist and vocalist Max Kerman, drummer Tim Oxford and lead guitarist and vocalist Mike DeAngelis.
ANDREW BAULCOMB, THE HAMILTON SPECTATOR
Max Kerman, left, and Mike DeAngelis prepare for one of the band’s performances in America.
By thenumbers5 band members
4 weeks on the road from July
25 to Aug. 20
18 cities
19 concerts
1 vehicle, a 12-seat touring
van, driven by the band (plus
trailer)
12,000 kilometres driven by
tour’s end from New York to
California, including stops in
Nebraska, Arizona, Utah, and
the Pacific Northwest, among
many others
6-7 hours a day on average
spent in the van
100 dollars or more for each
fill-up of gas
24,000 dollars to pay for the
van
2,500 dollars for the gear
trailer
9,000 dollars a year for in-
surance
99 cent menu at McDonald’s
for fast food. Some restaurant
meals.
6 dollars for 10 guitar strings.
Bass strings are double or
triple the cost. Replaced as
needed.
120 dollars a night per hotel
room. With five band mem-
bers, Arkells usually book two
rooms.
20,000 to 30,000 dollars
overall tour costs including
health insurance, phone bills,
withholding taxes and ship-
ping costs for new merchan-
dise.