The right kind of band for this decade.
Whether they’re rocking stadiums, making a beeline for the discotheque, or gathering around the campfire, the implicit message of Arkells is always the same: everyone is welcome here. Since the beginning, Arkells have never wavered in their mission to be the house band that soundtracks the greatest nights of your life and emotional support in your darkest hours. Thanks to their steady and eclectic ethos, Arkells have continued to evolve musically, while making everyone feel right at home. As one of the most heavily rotated acts on radio, and all-time record holders of the JUNO Award for “Group of the Year,” Arkells have extended their reach beyond borders by infiltrating all corners of pop culture; from global sports telecasts and top-tier video games to the stages of Coachella and Bonnaroo. The band’s longevity is ultimately a function of their commitment to never coasting on past glories and to always live completely in the moment. Even through their impressive history together, Arkells still approach every gig as an opportunity to prove themselves to the unconverted; as they’re fond of saying, each time they take the stage, “we understand the assignment.” The first rule of rock ‘n’ roll is to play every show like it’s your last—but as Arkells prove night after night, it’s just as important to hold onto the unbridled energy and enthusiasm of your first. With their new record, Between Us, the band achieves the impossible: how do we make our new songs feel like the past and the future at the same time? It's 11 songs of their best songwriting to date, produced by legendary producer John Congleton (St. Vincent, Death Cab for Cutie, Wallows).
There’s a line in the second verse of Ride:
“Lessons in culture that might lead you blind: the art on your wall and that bottle of wine.
A shiver runs through you—right down your spine, every time you leave your neighbourhood lines.”
It’s one of those lyrics that might be a bit subtle for a pop song, but it gets at something at the heart of the album. To live fully means to participate fully—and that can’t be found in cultural signifiers like expensive art or fancy wine. It can’t be found in the comfort of your own home. It can’t be found scrolling through the digital world. It can only be found in the air we breathe together—the recognition that we’re sharing it, the most precious thing we have.
“I just want to ride” is about that journey—breathing that air, taking in every neighbourhood, and reminding ourselves that community—a broader community than our direct loyalties—is where we feel the fullness of life.
“What Good?” (“Everybody chasing that ambulance”) gets at this idea, as does “Money” (“How much money in the bank will it take until you’re sleeping like a baby?”). These songs make way for others about longing and love—the kind of love that’s so powerful it makes you forget all the things that piss you off about the constructs of the modern world.
There’s a searching in this album for something true. And just because we’ve been making records as a band for our entire professional lives, there’s no promise we’re any better at it than when we started. You might have more experience, but the good albums are made with urgency—a feeling that this is the most important thing in your life, and that you’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure the ideas inside you are reflected back when you’re done the final mix.
We prepared and rehearsed like we were 21 again, before heading into the studio with John Congleton. We worked with John because of his eclectic résumé and because we appreciated his desire to create compelling content that goes beyond a 30-second social media hook. He is focused solely on making the most compelling art a band can muster.
At one point, we showed him a new song, and his blunt response was: “This sounds like another song we’ve already recorded. Do we need it?” Then we played him the original demo—a sparse piano version—and he lit up: “This is the version. Let’s record it like that.”
With the record coming out, the plan is to play the hell out of these songs and let them breathe in that shared air. It’s sometimes hard (and maybe irresponsible) to play a whole new record when you have nine under your belt and only pass through a city every couple of years, but with our three-night runs, we think we’ve found a workaround. By booking multiple nights in smaller venues, we can get to our full catalogue and let the new songs reverberate around those rooms.
We played “Ride” live for the first time last month on our Europe tour—the Between Us preview shows—and it reminded me of when we played “John Lennon” in Thunder Bay in 2009. How do these people know the words already?
When a song is working, it’s the most satisfying feeling as a songwriter—because it becomes a real, living, breathing thing.
