So here we are poised at the brink of the new millennium, and music is suffering. Specifically, rock 'n' roll is limping along, all tangled up in self-awareness and sub-genre nonsense waiting for the next surprise to take the lead and save us all. Enter Sloan, fresh out of the supposed bleakness of Canada and bearing the welcome surprise-to-end-all-welcome-surprises: big bad '70s *rawk.* |

Much as Sloan's last release, One Chord to Another, drew its lifeblood from the '60s, the four-headed supergroup's new album, Navy Blues, is a trip through the dark past of '70s references. Beginning with an irreverent cough, it offers up tastes of Rubber Soul-era Beatles, Thin Lizzy, Todd Rundgren's Utopia and fellow Canucks April Wine. But unlike, say, Lenny Kravitz, when Sloan goes retro, they do so to spice their tracks, not shamelessly pass them off as their own. And they have a ball at it.

"Some people say it's a hilarious record," says bassist/vocalist Chris Murphy, "but I think it's cool. You risk walking the line with hard rock references, but I think even the first time around those things were done with humor. I don't think AC/DC was ever as humorless as, say, the Wallflowers. I think they were laughing the whole time. We like to have a good time, but we're really serious about making good records."

Indeed, while having four songwriters certainly helps Sloan fill up records with good material, it's the band's lighthearted approach to being seriously creative that has defined their impressive output.

"We were in hysterics the whole time," continues Murphy, looking back on their times in the studio. "The hardest I giggled though was recording horns for 'Everything You've Done Wrong' on One Chord to Another. I couldn't believe we were doing it. I thought that was daring or something. Short of making a dance record or something, I don't know how we would trick ourselves now. The one we're making a video for now, 'She Says What She Means,' is kind of funky. The band [guitarist] Jay [Ferguson] and I were in before Sloan had lots of sort of regrettable funkiness to it. I want to remember it as being the Minutemen, not the Chili Peppers, if you know what I mean. He was fatter than D. Boon at the time too."

You have to learn from the past if you are to overcome it, and this is a band bent on saving pop music. Longtime fans, maniacs that they are, shouldn't worry that Navy Blues is derivative of anything else. "It's not like an outrageous rock record," laughs Ferguson. "I think those influences showed through more in [guitarist] Patrick [Pentland]'s songs like 'Money City Maniacs' and 'Iggy & Angus' and Chris' song 'She Says What She Means.' It's that side showing through this time. We also knew we'd be playing some festivals, and in addition to being cool recordings, we knew they would be fun to play. They're a little more obvious. I think Patrick was considering that when he was writing."

Despite releasing back-to-back-to-back gold albums and inspiring near-Beatlemania craziness at home -- and amongst revered songsmiths from Paul Westerberg to Lou Barlow to Steve Malkmus -- Sloan remain humble. Laughs Murphy, "I'm not so stupid to think it's because we're genius musicians, but because we take time with people ..."

No one would accuse this band of rushing things south-of-the-border (it's worth noting, however, that their previous assault on the U.S. was cut short when their label folded), but, then again, it's no small order putting Canada at the top of the taste-making charts (just ask the Tragically Hip, although Bryan Adams, Alanis and Celine Dion might have a different take on things). But working at the top of their game -- and through their own Murderecords label -- Sloan appears to be up to the task. (Scott Wilson)