Black is the New AP Style

Photo courtesy of Jason Bennett

A year ago today, I was primed for what I thought would be an incredible 2020.

I had just finished recording some new tracks here at home in Canada at Chad Kroeger’s house with Chad and producers Mitch Merrett and Jeff Johnson. I had recently connected with all of them to create some new music together, and Jeff and I had just begun to write a song called “Too Strong”.

“Too Strong” is a song that developed accidentally when Jeff and I were just chatting about life. Guitars are never far away and before we knew it, we started riffing on the idea of how times aren’t always easy in relationships and they can present a choice between giving up or recognizing the value of our own strength and staying strong. We recorded three other songs and given that this was my first new music since 2018, I was especially excited to release these. But then – as everyone knows – the world changed and everything around me was different.

While writing and recording music is an incredible passion for me, touring and performing it are equally important. The stage is truly my second home and being able to connect with people through the language of music is essential for my own fulfillment as an artist and as a human.

The realization that my biggest passions in life were gone for the immediate future was crushing. As we found ourselves in lockdown last spring, I found myself in my car in an empty parking lot one night, emotionally spent, tears rolling down my face and wondering what was to come from all of this. I felt sad knowing that so many people had their own terrible situations that this pandemic has brought on, and I felt weak – and done. My life was usually crazy and all over the place, and I loved the pressure to succeed, but this was an entirely different kind of pressure. 

So this past year of quarantine/social distancing has been exhaustingly reflective. I may post a feel-good picture with my dog because she’s extremely cute. I can’t help it! But I have been tested this year, just as many others have been.

I remember in the beginning of 2020, every Instagram post was like, “2020 vision! This is our year!” I totally think we got the 2020 vision part, but that’s exactly what made it NOT our year. I’ve tried to really limit my social media usage; I’ve read Proof of Heaven, an SRV biography, Texas Flood, The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck, and now I’m reading Goldfinch.

I’ve binged on so many TV shows while playing my guitar. Most recently The Queen's Gambit. I’m in love with Anya-Taylor Joy and if I meet her I’ll propose immediately.

While practicing social distancing, listen to my latest song, "Please Don't Be Far":

I grew up steeped in the poetry and songs of Leonard Cohen. I was always mesmerized by the world of his music, longing to taste the “tea and oranges that came all the way from China.” At the age of seven, I was introduced to this magician for the first time, and I used to wonder: how does a single brain have enough space for so many words and so much music? To me, Leonard was a word wizard and that raspy, raw voice drew me in every time. There was an aura about him, something that I couldn’t quite pin down. Sometimes I was haunted by his ripe words and I wanted to linger long enough to get to know a fraction of the man behind the fedora. I could listen to a song a dozen times, and still there was another layer to uncover. He was mysterious, yet tender. He was a wise sage, yet playful and witty. After a while, I started to feel as though I had come to know him. With his Canadian roots I hoped that one day I would get to witness him live. As I embarked on my own journey as a songwriter, I turned to Leonard’s poetic technique, evocative storytelling and unique melodies as a blueprint for what was possible.

One day my mum told me a story of the time she visited the Island of Hydra in Greece. She was travelling with her friends in April of 1975. On a sunny afternoon they were visiting the sea, sitting at the wharf while watching locals play backgammon. Suddenly, a young man approached their table requesting a light for his cigarette. My mum’s friend immediately recognized the glimmer in his eye...you guessed it, there was Leonard in the flesh. Sun-kissed flesh. Eventually it was revealed that everyone had roots in Montreal and so a cigarette light turned to an evening of illuminated conversation. My mum’s friend explained that she was a songwriter, and in need of a guitar while abroad. Being the gentleman (and woman-magnet) that he was, Leonard graciously offered her his nylon string to borrow. Leonard was on retreat in Greece, and had plenty more guitars to choose from. He invited everyone back to his place, where they sat in his kitchen surrounded by brick walls, open windows, sea breeze and homemade bread and chicken soup off the stove. My mum describes being so in awe of the unfolding events that she was caught speechless. She recalls watching Leonard flirt with her friend, and being in disbelief that she was sipping soup made by Leonard Cohen.

On the fourth of December 2012, almost 20,000 people gathered in Toronto’s Air Canada Centre to worship, weep, laugh and to bask in the world of Leonard Cohen. My mum and I had been counting down the days for this event. Leonard was nearly 78 at the time, but the way he greeted his adoring fans you wouldn’t have thought he was a day over 30. Limber, lean, leprechaun-like and suave as ever in his black suit, fedora and shiny shoes. The classic Cohen look. He ran on stage with legs that carried him as if he was floating on air. His long fingers holding the microphone with a gentle strength, and perhaps a touch of arthritis. His eyes were cast into shadow by the brim of his hat. Suddenly he looked up into the vast space and his slight smile was illuminated. Perched in the top seating section, my mum and I felt the distance dissolve. It was as if Leonard was in arm’s reach. He seemed so at home amongst this sea of faces, he welcomed us with warmth and wit. That was the night a colossal stadium transformed into a temple, an intimate tower of song.

Soon the booming applause turned to silence as Cohen set the stage with “Dance Me to the End of Love”. Gracefully he lowered himself to his knees, as if praying on the rug while he delivered “Bird on a Wire”. The cabaret-style melodies were woven together by gentle high-hats, sensual bass lines and a fiddle, adding a flirtatious zest. The nine-piece band played as if they shared one body, and Leonard was the ringmaster. Each song guided us into a different state of mind, memories flooding in for both my mum and I. He seemed to transcend human form, and yet was so deeply real. He whispered with a slight growl, “The older you get, the more lonely you become, and the more love you need...There ain’t no cure for love.”

When the time came for “Hallelujah” the audience was primed and ready. The silence was so palpable that you could almost feel it surrounding you like a veil. I took my mum’s hand and we exchanged a glowing glance as the guitar progression touched our ears. “I heard there was a secret chord..” The silence broke for a brief moment with feverish applause, people rose to their feet, then together we landed in a meditative stillness. The people in our row became our neighbours, as we joined voices and the entire stadium sang in harmony through the chorus. We shared this brief moment in time where no matter who you were, no matter what seat you could or couldn’t afford, we were all together in a shared reality. Heartbeats synchronizing and voices melding into one resounding “Hallelujah.”

Long-time collaborators of Cohen’s, The Webb Sisters and Sharon Robinson chimed in with their gospel-like harmonies. I remember the goosebumps cloaking my body, and the tears flowing through me from the depth of my belly. This song that I had heard hundreds of times, this song sung by hundreds of artists was suddenly new to my ears. Landing with fresh mystery and an undiscovered depth, I closed my eyes and let the collective voice wash over me like the medicine I didn’t know I needed. My mum and I wept and sang together, feeling closer and more aligned for having shared this sacred moment. It was as if we were sitting in Leonard’s kitchen, enjoying homecooked songs. The word-wizard, the musical magician that I worshipped became the human that I will continue to admire. There are times when I pick up my guitar and think of his chapped hands holding his acoustic on stage that night. He caressed the strings with an intimacy I will never forget. I imagine Leonard is hanging out in a place where the drinks are cold, the songs are flowing and there is a fedora for every occasion.

In 2004, author Ned Vizzini published his novel Be More Chill, a story of high school student Jeremy Heere who transforms from stereotypical nerd to the coolest guy in class. It was adapted into a musical in 2015 and made its Broadway debut in 2019. In 2021, it was adapted again - this time into a graphic novel.

Author David Levithan, who is a fan of Vizzini’s, wrote the afterword to the original novel and was the perfect fit when it came time to create the graphic novel edition.

“I immediately said yes,” Levithan said. “Even though I’d never written a graphic novel before, I’d edited a bunch, so I was very familiar with the format, and thought it would be fun to bring [Vizzini’s] story to life that way.”

The story revolves around Jeremy Heere swallowing a pill-sized supercomputer called a squip, which guarantees to bring him everything he most desires in life. The squip instructs him on what to wear, how to walk and talk, and before he knows it, he’s friends with his former enemies and has the attention of every girl in school. What he learns the hard way, however, is that it comes with consequences.

While developing the story, as is typical for writers and illustrators, Levithan and artist Nick Bertozzi worked almost entirely separate.

“Nick sent in some character sketches that totally showed he understood the story and the characters,” Levithan said. “And then he just ran with it, based on my script.”

The graphic novel stayed true to the original in many ways, including the time period. For Levithan, it was exciting to decide which pieces of early-00s history would make it into the storyline (including references to 2000 Grammy Award-winning song “Who Let The Dogs Out”, colorful iMac desktop computers and Motorola razr flip phones) but jokingly admits the most difficult part was admitting that the early 00s made it historical fiction.

Not only was it a joy and honor for Levithan to adapt the novel, but it gave him another reason to stand by its message.

“The reason I love the novel, and the reason I believe the musical adaptation has resonated so much, is because Ned was so on-the-mark about how technology can alter our personhood, and how the most meaningful connections between people are the ones that are made genuinely,” he said. “Ned knew readers need to think about such things as our century began, and it’s certainly still the case.”

Be More Chill: The Graphic Novel is available here.

Photo courtesy of Jordan Altergott

I have tried writing this piece five separate times but nothing seems quite right.

I know it’s been like this for all of us, but 2020 was quite the whirlwind for me. I’m still a full-time college student, working two jobs, all on top of being a full-time musician.

2020 didn’t go the way I hoped, even after we had all adapted to the copious amount of free time. I signed up for MasterClass and never touched it. I made all these goals and achieved exactly zero of them. I wish so badly that I could say lockdown was everything I needed to get myself into gear and hit the ground running, but it wasn’t. 

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Elsewhere vocalist/guitarist Michael Aroian had to say: 

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what artist Austin Archer had to say:

I grew up in a strict LDS (Mormon) home in Utah. Every year the holidays were filled with lots of religious iconography and worship. We would read the story of Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus out of the Bible (a painfully boring task that none of my siblings looked forward to) and we would watch my father’s favorite movie Ben-Hur (the 1959 version starring Charleton Heston; good flick, I recommend it).

As an atheistic adult I’ve founded many of my own holiday norms and traditions, and I’ve been able to weave a few of them into the time I spend with my family. My parents are big on repetition. Songs that we listen to intentionally at certain times, movies we watch, stories we tell, jokes, etc. I figured in that spirit I could find something nice and sweet, but decidedly secular to add to our list of holiday traditions.

I discovered this wonderful secular holiday tune by Tim Minchin called “White Wine in the Sun” several years ago and I’ve started making my family sit down and watch a video of him playing the song live every year. It’s a song that reminds the listener playfully that not all people share their belief that the son of God was born on Christmas. There are millions of people and families who simply enjoy the opportunity to gather with loved ones and to feel safe and taken care of, and that’s enough. Even though the song is clearly a Christmas hymn for non-believers, my mostly religious family members love it and are moved to tears whenever we sit down to watch the video and take in this new, more inclusive holiday tradition.

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Graphic created by Lucas Seidel Design

Gather 'round the open fire for Chimneyside Chats - a monthly feature with holiday stories from our favorite artists. See what's in their stockings this year as they reminisce on Christmas memories, share their favorite recipe and more! Here's what Byland's Alie Renee Byland had to say: