Late to get around to this, but I’m finally posting a review of Taken By Canadians‘ self-titled album. Here you go, world. Sorry for the delay.
Released in January of 2018 by Blind Owl Records, Taken By Canadians’ third album earns the honor of being the self-titled addition to their discography. This is the album Taken By Canadians was always capable of but never managed to muster — until now. I can say with a clear conscience that it’s a treat and hands-down my favorite of their releases. Here’s a track by track run-down of the album.
But first, a warning: this is going to be part album review, part argumentative essay about how I’m convinced this is a concept rock album about one man’s journey through the five stages of grief in response to a relationship gone awry. We’re going to get real metaphysical and nuanced with this shit a la Ecclesiastes. Hold tight.
The River
The first track on the album opens with a solid and slow bassline — we’re easing into a groovy start, full of references to North County San Diego spots known for their ties to its music scene. From there, the track stays mellow until frontman Ben Ambrosini sings, “…into the unknown.” Then, the band explodes into a psychedelic mashup of music. It’s almost like they planned this, guys — I love it when form matches content.
Get Lost
Retaining the contained chaos of “The River,” the second track captures what a cool night in the desert feels like — the song is distinctly southwest in the contemplative exploration of the overlooked parts of San Diego, both musically and physically. From “The River” and its city landmarks, this track takes us outside the tread-upon territory we know when we think of San Diego (beaches and coastal towns) to the nearby but oft-ignored portions of the county (deserts and inland oases).
San Francisco
This is the track that makes you think, “Oh, I get it — ‘The River’ was about the status-quo, ‘Get Lost’ was about exploring the unknown and getting to know someone, and ‘San Francisco’ is about coming out of the other side of the unknown and falling in love.” If you don’t believe me, just listen to the lyrics: “Do you love me?” repeated ad nauseum. The slow build of music paired with a cavalier facade makes the sudden outburst of exuberant sound interlaced with this refrain all the more poignant. This is denial, the “rose-colored glasses” as it were.
Worth It
This is my favorite track on the entire album and perhaps it’s no coincidence it’s the start of the protagonist’s anger stage. Every lyric describes a love interest who just doesn’t value the singer in any way — it’s the emotion that comes with the realization you’ve been duped. You care so much and that person you wanted to love you so badly just doesn’t. And before turning the anger outwards, it seems to travel inwards first: “Will I ever be worth a fuck?” and then specifically, “Will I ever be worth your love?” But we’re too busy enjoying the music to really think about what a depressing sentiment this really is. Good…?
Bad Mistakes
The ending of the anger comes in the form of the melancholic realization that, “I made a bad mistake when I called you ‘babe.’” If Ambrosini’s voice sounds disgusted, it seems to be more of a self-disgust than who he’s singing to. No one likes being duped, but what’s worse than someone outright tricking you is feeling like you should have known better. This track is a slower one, serving as a palate cleanser between the two singles on the album: “Worth It” and “Do You Believe Me?”
Do You Believe Me?
And then the bargaining, oh the bargaining. For Taken By Canadians, the bargaining consists of psychic (or psychedelic?) remediation. This track is heavy blues psychedelia in the vein of Jefferson Airplane or Zappa at his most contained (which isn’t saying much in terms of “staying straight”). There’s a reason this is one of the album’s singles: It’s fuckin’ fun, even when it is haunted. Proof that “think[ing] about all those nights that we wasted” doesn’t have to be dismal — even if “I’m still calling out your name.” Unlike the anger, the bargaining begins externally.
Side of the Road
Then, the bargaining shifts to the inner sphere of self. A darker version of the heavy blues psychedelia started in “Do You Believe Me?” permeates “Side of the Road” and sees our protagonist “leave [his] mind on the side of the road” — seems like the better option between that and facing the truth. Yeah, I’d settle for some mushrooms instead of heartbreak any day of the week. And if this song is the soundtrack to that? Then definitely, yes.
Dirty Mind
My second favorite track on the album, “Dirty Mind” is the start of depression, but, like any good bout of depression, it’s tinged with bitterness and irreverence for the decorum that may have contributed to the falling apart of the relationship in question. And maybe that’s why it’s up there for me — besides the energetic and punchy guitarwork, I feel that “Dirty Mind” and “Worth It” are the most honest songs on the album. “Worth It” captures that feeling every person gets when mistreated — “But shouldn’t I be worth it?” — while “Dirty Mind” seems to answer it — “Who fucking cares if I’m not?”
Athena
Conversely, “Athena” is my least favorite track on the album because I find it trite. It’s “precious” without any genuine sweetness. Plus, the logical inconsistencies of the lyrics bother me — “Athena” in the song is a place, but in mythology and the rest of human history and culture, “Athena” is and always has been a goddess. Talk about taking lady as land or c(o)untry. I suppose it’s fitting the two “depression” songs are angry and insincere, respectively, considering how the album ends.
The River Pt. 2
Just as Taken By Canadians’ self-titled started, it ends in “The River.” Whether our disheveled protagonist has internalized everything from his journey remains to be seen, but now he’s just flowing on to the next experience. What will draw him out of this loop? “Who will save [his] soul?” This continuation of the album’s inaugural track takes the themes presented in the initial incarnation and complicates them. It isn’t just a reprise — it’s a self-aware recount that forwards the musical ideas voiced by the rest of the album. And it looks towards what’s next. The sun also rises — but this time it’s the moon. We beat back into the current — but this time, we’re flowing with it. It may be the same river, but it isn’t the same drifter.
After rereading this part essay, part review, I feel I may have projected onto Taken By Canadians’ self-titled album. But that, if anything, is a testament to its staying power and quality — I enjoyed the tunes enough to listen ad nauseaum to a record and parse out my perceived meanings of the lyrics.
Also, I totally stick by my reading of the album and my therapist agrees with all of my conclusions.