It’s impossible to listen to The Trews without imagining the live performance; the champions of bar rock are veteran performers. You can practically gauge the quality of their material with a seismometer by envisioning the induced writhing of their audiences. Their latest album, Civilianaires, is a ripcord on your adrenal gland. They’ve proved that with over two decades of performing, The Trews still have plenty left in the gas tank.
There’s probably a quantifiable amount of energy that is required to move me from a seated position to a mid-review dance party, and whatever that formula is The Trews have it. That has always been their strength as a band: they could sing you the phone book, but they’d punch it out with such gusto that you’d be singing it back to them, dancing with your friends, from atop the bar.
There’s a sort of magic in that ability to imbue someone else with that kind of energy. I can’t imbue myself with that kind of energy most mornings with a full pot of coffee, and yet The Trews are doing it night after night across a stage and into a crowd of strangers. Now let’s imagine the odds of them producing fresh material two decades and six albums into their career that can accomplish the same thing. That puts them in some rarefied air that includes the likes of the Tragically Hip, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and probably a handful of bands that should have worked harder to roll off the top of my head.
This is arena rock crafted at the pinnacle of its mastery. The Trews’ art is in putting together a chorus that demands you shout it out like a mantra before you know even know what you’re singing. It invokes a physical response that in-turn produces a sense of catharsis. Civilianaires is full of them and it is blissful.
Opening with “Vintage Love” the album immediately hits hard with the biggest change to come to the band in years, the permanent addition of drummer Chris Gormley (formerly of Big Sugar). Gormley’s presence in the band seems to signal a rebalancing of the holy triumvirate of rock – bass, guitar, drums – with the drums front and centre. Straight off it almost feels like a dance album, and with the desired effect.
Following that is “Leave It Alone” which seems to be the strongest contender to go toe-to-toe with the band’s long time hit “Not Ready To Go,” but it’s “Bar Star” that stands out at as album’s strongest single. Unsurprisingly, it’s also the track that guitarist/song-writer John-Angus MacDonald describes as being the band’s best ever. Sadly, it’s also the track most likely to be ruined by self-proclaimed “bar stars” this year.
The album takes a brief political dip and a swing south of the border with “The New US” as the band sings about “the little man who isn’t home, his little hands arm the drones.” Bass-heavy and distorted, the track is strangely reminiscent of early 2000’s nu-metal. It’s 2018 though and if you haven’t written an angry political anthem are you even alive?
In the grand tradition of albums, Civilianaires‘ proverbial A-Side is all pedal to the metal, and naturally that’s where The Trews find their bread and butter. The whole thing is chock full of what we can safely assume are hits. Right on cue though, things take a turn for the sober at the halfway point. The gospel-inspired and piano-driven “Is It Too Late” literally asks if the band might turn things around. It’s one of two or three slower tracks on the album’s mid-tempo B-Side, along with the similarly themed, though guitar-at-a-campfire suited, “Amen.” After all, we can’t have an album of nothing but bar stompers. That would be insane.
If you can measure the merit of an album by the number of impromptu dance parties it induces then this one is a winner. With what seems like an infinite supply of catchy choruses it’s at least a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. Civilianaires sounds like The Trews might be up for another Juno nomination.