Corb Lund ain’t no preacher

Redneck environmentalist (Photo supplied)

Corb Lund’s eclecticism is his philosophy.

“I like variety,” says the Alberta-born musician over the phone from his Edmonton home. “I like the fact that my audience is cowboys and aging punk rockers and goth chicks and songwriter fans.”

Tonight, Corb Lund and the Hurtin’ Albertans will perform genre-hopping tunes in the Schooner Showroom at Casino Nova Scotia. The show is the first stop in a densely-packed cross-Canada tour.

“I’m hardly ever home anymore,” he says. The past few weeks have been “a flurry of laundry and banking and mowing lawns.”

The Hurtin’ Albertans released Cabin Fever, their sixth album, in August. Lund says the record is the result of a difficult three-year period; the existential discomfort reflected in the album’s name included writer’s block and breakups.

“I have this log cabin in the woods outside Edmonton that I helped my uncle build,” Lund says. “I went through some dark shit … I ended up crashing out there in the wintertime and started to get a little snaky. That’s where the title comes from.”

The songs on the record vary widely in both form and content. The first single, “September,” is a melancholic reflection on loss; “The Gothest Girl I Can” is a fast-paced ode to the women of the country-metal-punk scene.

Lund’s opinions are as non-conformist as his songs—he is “torn” over the oil industry’s centrality in the provincial economy. Lund has friends and relatives who work on the rigs in Fort McMurray, and he doesn’t blame them for doing their jobs.

“It’s not their fault the world runs on oil.” He says individualism is the bulwark of Albertan psyche. “There’s still a feeling here that you can roll up your sleeves and get things done,” he says. “I’m not bragging about it, it’s just a fact.”

“The guys I know that are working the rigs, for them to go on [employment insurance] would be shameful. It’s just how they view things.”

Lund is not conflicted over fossil fuels. “Whether it’s five years or 50 years, we’ve got to get off petroleum,” he says.

However, he doesn’t think Albertans should be vilified for extracting the resource. Everybody “is burning fuel to heat their homes and run their factories and fuel their airplanes and fuel their trucks.”

In the end, he concludes, “we’re all hypocrites.”

“We’re all tied to oil, no matter how. I think we’re headed for trouble.”

When asked if spreading this message is part of his role as a songwriter, Lund hesitates. “Sometimes I think so, but sometimes it’s just futile,” he says. “I don’t feel like preaching to anybody. To be the hippie songwriter going around scolding people, it’s a drag.”

Reflecting this preaching-averse attitude, Lund describes his live show as “a really good party time,” adding: “We set bar records wherever we go. Our audience likes to drink, I guess.”  To enhance the laid-back vibe, the Hurtin’ Albertans never use a set list, meaning every concert is a new experience for both the band and its fans. Considering Lund’s appreciation for variety and his continuing desire to “mix it up,” nothing could be more fitting.