“In the winter of ’35, we were freezing all in the dirt / Well, the breakers came in, they brought the hammer down / They own the judge and the jury and they own this here town.” 

I Pulled that one right out of “Minto Chipman,” the opening track on the debut album from the Smokes. It’s a good indication of the band’s lyrical style—the words conjure up a noirish landscape of tangled webs and wrong turns. Dark stuff, to be sure.

Looking for a description of the band’s sound, it’s easy to latch onto the hints of Bob Dylan, Neil Young and the late ‘60s Rolling Stones, but that’s only half the story. The music might be coming from a similar place, but the Smokes defy simple comparisons. It’s better to say that this band rattles and crashes, bashing its way through the songs with the kind of abandon that comes with a runaway train.

While the mix of tumbling traps and acoustic and electric guitars is crucial to the band’s sonic identity, just as important are the shouted vocals, with the whole band sweeping in and out of the picture. The effect is a sense of urgency as they sing of murder and roads and rivers and trains. The Smokes work themselves up into a frenzy that catches like a spark on the sun-scorched grass.
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Fields and Factory Floors (Independent)
Porch-country rockers the Smokes prefer screwiness to stuffiness, as the crayon drawing on the cover of their debut indicates. Consequently, the best moments on Fields and Factory Floors come when the band is colouring well outside the lines, like in “Hammer Town”, which is built almost entirely from the first bar of “Come On Eileen”. Things really start to cook about halfway through, with the irresistible “Mountain Tree” and its spine-tingling shout-along chorus. Album closer “Microphone” starts with the line “I wish this microphone was an ice cream cone” and then explodes into Sambafied sunshine pop, like something from Forever Changes. In between, there are enough risks to suggest Roger Miller fronting Cuff the Duke. It could probably be a little more concise, and the sound is sometimes too thin to support the big ideas, but with a couple of years of road work and another set of ears in the studio, discerning music lovers will surely be blowing the Smokes.
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On my quest to find interesting music to post on my British music week I came upon the Canadian band The Smokes. There's something about their sound that I found instantly appealing. I liked all the old-time folk lyrical references like working in the mine, breaking rocks in the hot sun and the chugga-chugga train sound of the drums in "Microphone".

Musically however the band is a mixed bag. Some songs from their debut Fields and Factory Floors come across as easy folk tunes ("Red River") while others have a heavy, garage-blues edge to them ("Minto Chipman"). I like both. Nerve Magazine recently called The Smokes one of Vancouver's best new bands.
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