FIRST
TAKE
I
THE
DEEP
DIVE
hope everyone’s holding up while holed up and has what
they need to keep making the best of this.
While I did flirt with the idea, I decided against sounding
off on anything directly related to COVID-19. There are enough
people telling us what we should and shouldn’t be doing or
predicting what the music industry might look like when we
make it to the other side of this; instead, I thought I’d focus on
one of the silver linings of my self-isolation experience that’s
made me very grateful for music, and has me (re)connecting with it
in a way I haven’t for some time.
Like many who (intentionally) get into this industry, my relationship
with music has largely been shaped by the deep dive – a total
immersion into a given artist’s body of work, and subsequently, their
stories, their swagger, their very essence.
This had as much to do with the era (my fandom flourished in the
mid-'90s, so albums were very much still a thing) as it did my eager-
ness for that visceral connection we sometimes strike with a given
piece or compilation of music.
And so I started a long-running stint of going from discovery to
discovery, enjoying lots but loving an elite few – and those few earned
deep dives. Sometimes that followed trends, sometimes it didn’t. Both
yielded their share of rewards.
I’d listen to and learn everything I could. This was harder to do
back then, but that just made it all the more appealing. One of the
first things I ever did on the internet was try to join a No Doubt fan
club and message board. I was too young and didn’t get enough
questions right on the “entry test” (we’re talking dial-up days here),
but they liked the spirit of my responses and let me in.
I bought Spin and Circus and Kerrang! and NME. I listened to
Ongoing History of New Music and sought out bootlegs of board
mixes from shows. Then I started actually going to shows and getting
to know bands. Then I started writing about them.
And that’s when it started to stop.
This time, it had more to do with era (MP3s and YouTube were
the new kids in town) and even employment. I got a job with
an established music magazine where casting as wide a net as
possible over a huge musical landscape was (and remains) central
to everything.
Thus began the era of mixtapes and playlists; of tweets and ‘grams
By Andrew King, Editor-in-Chief
and other “micro-bursts” of music and content. I was hearing more
but honing in on less. It was indeed different, but sated my appetite
for music just fine. That became par for the course for nearly a decade.
And then Gord Downie died.
I dove deep into the Hip. Deep and hard. Books, podcasts, personal
anecdotes and, of course, music. Studio albums. Solo releases. That
Night in Toronto. I would’ve been back to the message boards had
I not felt like a poser for being so late to the game. (I always liked
the Hip, just not the way Hip fans like the Hip, but that’s fixed now.
I am one of you!)
And now, here I am amidst an Oasis fixation. Funny enough, it
started a bit before the isolation but was certainly amplified because
of it. This is partly the fault of our Senior Editor, Mike Raine, who has
never been shy about trumpeting his fandom for the Britpop icons
and has guided me through my dive like the veteran he is.
This particular deep dive has been wonderful amid the COVID-19
pandemic. My five-year-old has competently picked up “Supersonic”
and “Morning Glory” on the drums and our mini jam sessions have
been a welcome outlet for both of us (more so for me, without a
doubt, though I’m fine with that bit of selfishness). We throw the full
Wembley Stadium show from 2000 on the TV while the kids jump
up and down “in the pit” (read: a mattress on the living room floor).
We’ve watched the Supersonic documentary (no kids for that one)
and, ironically, the Oasis-centric episodes of Ongoing History have
sent me into another deep dive through those archives.
I realize this is far more anecdotal (and maybe self-indulgent) than
practical, but my hope is that it encourages you to try a deep dive
of your own if it’s been awhile. It brings me back to my days as an
awkward and sometimes lonely teenager holed up in a bedroom
bunker, which seems pretty fitting for our current circumstances.
A recent chat with artists Cadence Weapon and Hua Li for the
Canadian Musician Podcast had us drawing parallels between hip-
hop and folk music, which has set me off on what’s shaping up to be
my next deep dive: a trip down the Nas rabbit hole. Huge thanks to
Hip-Hop Evolution and (Rap) Genius.com for the assists thus far. The
Grammy tribute to Prince the other night has me thinking I know
where I’m going next, too.
Join me for a dive?
CANADIAN MUSICIAN 9