BNL Breakups & Breakdowns
originally published in my column Robots & Underpants, 2009
BNL Breakups and Breakdowns
The news came down on Wednesday, and for a few moments, I was too stunned to even think. Steven Page, one of the two lead singers of Barenaked Ladies, was leaving the band.
This might not amount to a hill of beans for anyone else. For me, though, it was like a kick to the stomach. Probably I should have seen something like this coming when Page was arrested last year for cocaine possession. Cultivating the band’s squeaky-clean image in the wake of that must have been difficult, and one wonders how much that played a part in Page’s decision to leave.
Of course, this might have simply been the proverbial last straw for Page. A few years back, he branched out on his own and released an album called The Vanity Project (more of Page’s wry and self-deprecating wit). The songs were good, but only one – “So Young, So Wrong, So Long” – was great. More recently, and even better than The Vanity Project, Page had performed with the ensemble The Art of Noise, covering artists as diverse as The Magnetic Fields, Elvis Costello, and Rufus Wainright. While Ed Robinson, the other half of BNL’s lead-singing duo, seemed content to explore himself in fields beyond music – extreme sports, learning to fly – Page seemed restless to figure out who he was musically without BNL.
Now he’ll get his chance. In a press release, the band stated that Page was leaving “by mutual agreement,” and in keeping with their general positivity, both Page and Robertson wished each other luck in their future endeavors. Which is nice and wonderful and sweet, especially the part where Page referred to the other band members as his brothers.
But it also sucks ASS.
I discovered Barenaked Ladies in my early twenties, when most people discovered them. I suppose it would have been a cliché to say I first heard them at a frat party or in someone’s dorm, like everyone else seemed to, but I mercifully never went to college. (I know, my Dad’s super proud, too.) No, my first exposure to BNL was in 1995, as I was tooling around town with my friend Jim, listening to one of the medleys he’d made from songs that were on the radio. Usually, I knew everything that popped up – I’ve been a student of the Top 40 ever since I was a wee lad – but something new struck my ears that afternoon.
“Rewind it!” This was in the days before recordable CDs. Imagine that kind of life!
“What?”
“Rewind it!”
Jim did, and there in his rickety old 78 Impala, I heard my first ten seconds of Barenaked Ladies, a snippet of their song “Brian Wilson.” I could barely credit what I was hearing. Page’s voice seemed so different from everything on the radio. Based on that ten seconds, I scurried right out and bought the album upon which that song was located, BNL’s major-label debut, Gordon.
Falling in love is different every time. I’d done it a few years before with Bruce Springsteen, whose music seemed to put into words everything I was feeling as a confused eighteen-year-old. BNL … well, they were different. They weren’t afraid to be funny, for one, but they weren’t exactly a comedy band. They had serious songs – like “The Flag,” and “What a Good Boy” – but they weren’t exactly drowning in angst, either. I couldn’t put my finger on what they were, and that was fine with me. All I knew is that this was love at first sight, and I had no problem exploring deeper to figure out why.
I ran out and in rapid succession bought everything else that was out there: Maybe You Should Drive, Born on a Pirate Ship, and their live album, Rock Spectacle (pronounced, as any good BNL fan will exhaustingly inform you, as “rock spek-TAK”). My love grew into obsession. The good songs kept piling up: “Life, In a Nutshell,” “Jane,” “Just a Toy,” “Shoe Box,” “Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank,” and especially “The Old Apartment.” I made mix tapes for all of my friends, and for the first time, every single one of them glommed on. They came with me to the concerts, and I got to prove to them why BNL was the very best band in concert.
Now, I should point out this all happened about six months before BNL released “One Week,” and then the album Stunt, which catapulted them into mainstream stardom and was suddenly everyone’s favorite band. I mention this not because I’m one of those douchebags who only like a band if it’s obscure and no one else has ever heard of them and claim sellout when they are suddenly big. On the contrary: when everyone loved them, I felt finally vindicated. Finally! Everyone got me!
That feeling didn’t last very long. When the follow-up to Stunt, a darker, less funny album called Maroon, was released, the new fans seemed to dry up. Despite the fact that the semi-bleak suburban lament, “Pinch Me,” went to #15 on the charts, it was clear that BNL’s mainstream success had been fleeting. Their follow-up album, Everything to Everyone, made a liar out of its title, barely reaching the top ten. Its only single, a goofy album track called “Another Postcard” that reflected none of the band’s growth over the rest of the album, peaked as high as the 80s on the singles chart, and then disappeared.
In a last attempt to reclaim themselves as a band, BNL left their record company and independently released two ambitious albums months apart – Barenaked Ladies Are Me and Barenaked Ladies are Men. They were good albums (featuring my very favorite BNL song ever, “Maybe You’re Right”), and showcased the entire band (not just Page and Robertson), but also suffered from bloat and too many mediocre songs. One wonders now if they sensed the beginning of the end even then, wanting to release as much as possible on their last go-round as a band. Who knows.
At current, BNL plans to continue without Page, recording an album this spring without him and going on tour in the fall. Page, too, is going to record and release albums. I’m intrigued, to be sure. Despite everything, I’m curious to see which direction BNL as a group takes now, and whether or not I will like it. But I probably won’t go to their concerts, which saddens me to say. I bought the albums for the music, but when I went to a show, I did it because of the camaraderie of Page and Robertson onstage. And to see Steven page high-kick during “Brian Wilson,” which always brought it full circle for me.
Long live BNL; I miss BNL.