Big Loser’s latest a winning mix of country, folk
Advertisement
Read this article for free:
or
Already have an account? Log in here »
To continue reading, please subscribe:
Digital Subscription
One year of digital access for only $205*
- Enjoy unlimited reading on winnipegfreepress.com
- Read the E-Edition, our digital replica newspaper
- Access News Break, our award-winning app
- Play interactive puzzles
*First annual payment billed as $205.00 + GST for one year. This annual subscription will automatically renew at $233.00 + GST every 52 weeks (10% off the regular annual price of $259.35). Offer available to new and qualified returning subscribers only. Cancel any time.
To continue reading, please subscribe:
Add Free Press access to your Brandon Sun subscription for only an additional
$1 for the first 4 weeks*
- Enjoy unlimited reading on winnipegfreepress.com
- Read the E-Edition, our digital replica newspaper
- Access News Break, our award-winning app
- Play interactive puzzles
*Your next Brandon Sun subscription payment will increase by $1.00 and you will be charged $17.95 plus GST for four weeks. After four weeks, your payment will increase to $24.95 plus GST every four weeks.
Read unlimited articles for free today:
or
Already have an account? Log in here »
The yellow trucker hat for sale on Facebook Marketplace said “Selkirk Lumber,” so Adam Wayne Brown knew he had to hammer home a deal.
Like the other millennial members of Winnipeg folk-country band Big Loser, the bassist has an affinity for the nostalgic, taking every opportunity — through music, through lyrics and through wardrobe — to recall the unique circumstances of growing up in a changing Interlake.
“I remember the matte yellow trucks driving around — the lumber trucks — and so I’ve had this strange memory of something disappearing from my youth and then persisting,” says Brown, who, like the band’s frontman Alex Paradoski, moved to Winnipeg more than a decade ago.
“I have a photo of the Lockport Bridge in my dining room,” chimes in Paradoski, whose first job as a teenager was bunning wieners and chopping fries at Skinner’s, a drive-in mainstay since 1929 along Highway 44.
Paradoski and Brown are waxing poetic about their erstwhile haunts because their band’s debut album, Spitting Distance, is thematically rooted in Lockport, Petersfield, Selkirk, East Selkirk and St. Andrews, where legend has it, you can disappear if you walk backwards around the old church three times, the band says.
Taking steps in reverse was key to the somewhat belated decision by the band — Brown, Paradoski, Jesse Lawrence (Fencing), Eric McEwen and Trevor Hnatowich — to record its first full-length record about eight years after playing its first gigs.
The result is a winning mixture of countrified folk and strings that adds to the sonic library of Interlake indie, a regional subcategory that in recent years has yielded compilations (2021’s Interlake All-Stars Vol. 1, released by Gimli’s Fleece Records, features songs by Mise En Scene, Deborah Romeyn, Kate Ferris and Lindy Vopnfjord) and rediscoveries (a modernized version of Sol Sigurdson’s 1970 folk record The Lake Winnipeg Fisherman was reissued by Ancient Raven Records in 2023).
Other artists who fit the regional bill include Selkirk’s Zoon, Riverton’s singing barber Dennis T. Olson, and the Interlake Polka Kings, a traditional small-town juggernaut whose vinyl releases include Looking to the Future.
Released in 1966, the record explored similar themes to Big Loser, in Ukrainian, on tracks such as Reminiscing, Hardships on the Farm and Days to Remember.
Just like Big Loser, the band was playing tunes about being pulled between worlds old and new.
On the fingerpicking standout track All I Wanted — the “gone” song — Paradoski’s appealingly quaky voice laments all of the pieces of his upbringing that have either been replaced, demolished or buried.
“Gone are the waterslides that we sneak into on the weekend nights,” he sings to open the track, which features guest vocals by Jensen Fridfinnson, formerly of Yes We Mystic and Amos the Kid.
Beginning with the collective memory of the now demolished Skinner’s Wet and Wild waterpark — (“Selkirk has the catfish, Gimli has the Viking — I felt like Lockport had the water- slides,” says Paradoski) — the song slips toward bodily mourning as it progresses, with Paradoski writing about the loss of his grandmother.
Big Loser’s new record is a strong addition to the canon of Interlake indie music.
“Gone, her body laid to rest, she went down in the dirt in her favourite dress. Gone, her body laid to rest, it’s our duty to remember what time forgets,” he sings.
“Alex’s grandma had a farm, and Alex’s dad lives on it now,” says Brown, offering explanation for his bandmate’s inspiration. “And she saw all of these things come, and Alex kind of saw them go.”
Some experiences never disappear, though, instead transferring and intensifying across generational lines. That’s the truth of Devils of the Interlake, another Spitting Distance cut that’s driven by Caitlin Baker’s guest fiddle, Lawrence’s Brian Wilson-like ear for unexpected harmony and the band’s clear admiration of the better parts of the Barenaked Ladies.
The song’s video — shot at Paradoski’s father’s house and in the back of a friend’s pickup truck — codifies certain eternal truths of an exurban upbringing, such as hitching a bit of karma on a highway’s soft shoulder or being unbothered by the sudden strut of a prairie chicken.
“It won’t be long till the skeeters awake,” Paradoski sings, referring to the regenerative nature of youthful miscreants and pesky bloodsuckers alike. “Little devils of the Interlake.”
Spitting Distance is available on streaming platforms and Bandcamp, or at bigloser.ca, an impressive, videogame-inspired site that allows visitors to use a fly-swatter cursor to have at the fluttering parasites.
ben.waldman@freepress.mb.ca
Ben Waldman is a National Newspaper Award-nominated reporter on the Arts & Life desk at the Free Press. Born and raised in Winnipeg, Ben completed three internships with the Free Press while earning his degree at Ryerson University’s (now Toronto Metropolitan University’s) School of Journalism before joining the newsroom full-time in 2019. Read more about Ben.
Every piece of reporting Ben produces is reviewed by an editing team before it is posted online or published in print — part of the Free Press‘s tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press’s history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates.
Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber.
Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.