Photo by: Luke Shauf Photography (@lukeshauf)
Hey! While you read this, stream What Is Heaps on Spotify or Apple Music (or wherever, just listen to it).
I remember meeting Warren outside of Whistle Stop in Peterborough. The Kents had just played an acoustic set and I was enjoying some poutine, as one does. It was a wonderful experience, and I would only continue to have wonderful experiences whenever Warren was involved. I feel like every conversation we have ends up being about Arthur and our PBS childhoods (seriously, we almost only text each other about Arthur references and memes). He also has a best friend named Steve, and I truly can’t imagine them as separate entities anymore. Which is why I need to bring up Steve at least once. I’ve also hired his dad, Kevin, to teach a comic book class to some six-year-olds. It was just as wholesome as you might think, and you can tell where Warren gets his warmth from. His mom is also a great nature photographer, and I’ve recently seen her feeding a chipmunk from her hand like a Disney Princess.
So as you can probably gather from the extensive list of good people around him, Warren is a very good person. He’s also incredibly talented, which is still an understatement. I’ve followed his career path from The Kents to Heaps, from the Locals EP to full-length record What Is Heaps (out now!!). He’s also got his solo stuff, which he posts on Soundcloud under the alias Gamekeeper.
Typically, I’d be hanging out with Warren in a group setting – an ugly sweater party, another concert, over a bowl of pho. Currently, we sit across from each other on my bathroom floor. Warren peeks through my computer screen, which I’ve precariously balanced on my toilet. It’s a very glamorous interview, and I’m a little nervous. We chat a little about Ryerson University, about how we’ve been managing. I show him my renovated dollhouse, of which he then confused my hand-sculpted bookshelf for a propane tank (I hold no grudges). When I’m finally ready, we get into the good stuff.
Because I’ve met the members of Heaps outside of the stage, I’ve been able to experience a different side of the music industry that I wouldn’t have otherwise. As a (now-recovered) obsessive musician lover, it’s been a welcomed reality check to speak with artists and musicians I admire on an equal playing field. I understand the power that a musician has over the fans, and have often wondered how bands (especially smaller bands) balance this power dynamic.
Me: The transition from The Kents to Heaps was a big one, full of photoshoots and redesigns and different music styles – what brought about this transition?
Warren: We got to a point where we felt boxed in, that we couldn’t create without inhibition. People would come to our shows and want to see older music, and we felt that we were kind of lying to them. Coming to The Kents, that’s what they were expecting. It was freeing for us in an artistic and honest sense –– we really just want to be open and honest with those who are consuming our music.
Me: Did something about The Kents changed?
Warren: We grew up in a small town and weren’t exposed to cool music, weren’t going to cool shows. The music we wrote at the time was very raw and earnest, but it wasn’t informed. The music we’re writing now comes from experience, from us moving to different cities, playing shows around Canada, seeing different bands, and just trying to grow as musicians. The music that we wrote before this strays what we want to be seen as now.
Me: In your opinion, what has your experience breaking into the music industry been?
Warren: We’ve had pretty barrier-less attempts to get into music, right? And that’s something we talk about on this record – there’s a lot of recognizing privilege in an earnest way. There’s a song that came about due to the MeToo movement, and that happened because of conversations with loved ones that blew us away.
I remember feeling embarrassed by my willful ignorance. It really slaps you in the face how good straight white men have it. This record explores our privilege and various power dynamics on at least three songs. You see the effects of this system in that, when we’ve tried to find bands with girls to play with us to craft cool and dynamic bills for shows, it’s hard! There’s a lot of dude bands out there.
Me: Growing up, I remember only listening to male musicians and really struggled to find female singers that I connected and resonated with (I also got it into my head that female pop music was stupid). I could never see myself, as a woman, creating music for people like me to listen to. Do you think there’s something like this preventing women from breaking into music like the Toronto dude bands do? Why do you think it’s so hard?
Warren: I think it’s deeply systemic, and it sucks that young Canadian girls missed out on alt-rock women when growing up. But I look at what bands like The Beaches are doing to Canadian rock music and it’s amazing. They’re championing that attitude of female rock, and for young girls seeing four young women rocking out, that’s so powerful.
Me: When I was a kid I remember just loving Avril Lavigne, but never really thought I could actually be like her? Which is like, why not? Because The Beaches obviously thought they could be!
Warren: I think within the pop machine, you see more diversity. But within the alt and indie rock scene, there’s far less women. And a lot of that comes from it not being safe for people of different orientations. The terrible thing is a lot of dudes feel safer than women when driving across the country, and that’s just awful. And when you’re just trying to make it and there’s not a lot of people looking out for you, there becomes situations that are just rife with misuses of power and objectification.
Me: I'm so fascinated by the music industry. People are so connected to the music they listen to, and because of this, I think it’s so interesting the behaviour that people choose to accept, and what flies under the radar and gets ignored. Have you guys discussed these types of issues?
Warren: We’ve felt very outside of the typical music dynamic – we’re not big partiers, we never got into this industry to be famous. It’s always been something we talk about when something big comes out about someone else, and it’s scary. Your fans like your because of their perception of your, and right away that’s a poor dynamic. Musicians get away with so much stuff; we’ll go on tour and people will be so, so kind to us just because we’re in the band they like.
As a musician, you have to make sure that you’re reminding yourself of this power because it’s not a normal power to have. You should reciprocate equal levels of kindness because that’s what everyone deserves, not just what a musician deserves. If you see a mistreatment of power, it hits you in the gut and you need to do something about it. We aren’t a big band, but the minute you’re on stage that doesn’t matter. There’s still a power dynamic.
Me: This has got me thinking of the prevalent masculinity of dude rock. My introduction to indie music was The Arkells, which is super bro-y, and that was a weird stepping stone into indie music because I got kinda trapped in a bro vortex. But seeing your transition from The Kents to something soft and open with Heaps has been such a wonderful journey to watch. I was wondering if that vulnerability was initially intentional?
Warren: Not at first. It began with the softer colour scheme, and as we started to become more comfortable with our art we though: “who cares what anyone thinks of this, it’s for us.” We’ve rallied behind how integral vulnerability is to connecting with people – that’s where we started to see a big change.
I’ve always been vulnerable with lyricism, but you can still hide behind the metaphors without saying too much. The zines have been a great challenge in our self-expression, in admitting the things we are truly struggling with. And when people see that, you can connect in a way that you can’t connect with on a musical level.
Me: I find with music and song-writing, it’s an interpretation of a feeling. But the zines are just straight-up how you are. It feels healthy. Are you going to make more?
Warren: I’m not sure about the zine structure, but it’s a new avenue for saying whatever we need to say. I loved making the You Were There zine because I was telling the truth, but also trying something outside of music. Creating a visual representation of how I felt was a blast.
Click here to read the rest of the Heap's Zine No.02
Me: Throughout this transition, was there ever a moment where you stopped and thought “success is possible, this can really happen?”
Warren: I guess it depends on your definition of “success.” There’s still so much uncertainty, but quarantine forced us to recognize that we can operate in a more DIY state, and it’s fundamentally changed our view as creators. We thought we had to pay tons of money to have the best product possible, but really working hard and not compromising our values helped us achieve something so cool. Now we view anything uncertain as an opportunity to create something new ourselves.
Creating the Hazy Shores animation and zine was the first mark of “we did this, and it looks good.” I actually got my dad to draw the text and scan it into the computer - just copies and copies of the same text (poor guy).
Me: Is the Hazy Shores animation one of your favourite things you’ve made, or is there something else you’re particularly proud of?
Warren: We have this song called Crime on our new record, and it’s about waking up to my own ignorance. There’s a line that goes “An era ends, but I won’t close my eyes,” and it’s the era of my ignorance and realizing that I need to be working harder to look and listen. It really resonated with me; it’s the first time I’ve ever come into song writing because upset and angry, at not only the system in place that allows ignorance to happen, but angry at myself for not being aware.
Me: I love that – that song really is something special. Is there anything in particular that you’d want someone to take away from Heaps and the new record?
Warren: There’s an earnestness to our creation that I hope people pick up on. Honestly, I just hope people come to shows! I think our band hasn’t gotten to prove what we are yet; we’re just so passionate about this project and hope it’s something people can connect with.
Warren’s final word: If you’ve got something nice to say, just say it. Tell people when they’ve done something good!
Interviewing Warren was something I was initially nervous about. We’re friends for sure, but there’s a vulnerability in talking earnestly about your work that I wanted to properly explore. I wanted to do Warren justice. There’s such a passion and honesty in the way he speaks; it’s easy to understand how he’s able to create like he does.
Learning is something we should all strive to do, and I’m endlessly impressed by the strides the guys have made in their transition from The Kents to Heaps. What Is Heaps is an album full of depth, creativity, complications, and gorgeous harmonies. I’m so proud of them, and so grateful Warren let me prod him with questions for an hour. It means so much to be to be able to support a band with morals that align with my own, and I’m so excited to see what Heaps does next.
Be sure to check out What Is Heaps and listen to their new album on any streaming platform :D
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