Besides being the Slurpee Capital of the World, Winnipeg, Manitoba isn’t a city that catches the eye of many Americans. Much like many of the Canadians we meet, it’s nice enough but not exactly memorable.

In fact, the only distinct memory I have from my handful of trips to Winnepeg is nearly driving into parked cars on major thoroughfares. Apparently, it’s legal to park in the slow lane during certain hours there. Not exactly the smartest parking solution I’ve ever seen.

So, it might come as a small surprise that one of the better bands you’ve never heard of calls Winnipeg home.

The Weakerthans may be relatively well-known in Canada, but here in the States, they live outside of most people’s buzz-bin. The only thing you might recognize them from would be the movie “Wedding Crashers.” Yes, that silly-ass movie starring the guy with the horrifically broken nose (not Adrian Brody, the other one) and the guy that looks like he might try to hit on your 12 year-old sister. The song that plays over the credits at the end of that movie? Yeah, that’s Aside, off The Weakerthans debut album, Fallow.

Lead singer and songwriter, John K. Samson, achieved a degree of popularity with the anarchist and activist punk band, Propagandhi. Their drummer, Jason Tait, has played with Broken Social Scene, so these guys aren’t complete unknowns.

The Weakerthans are a band that sounds like the wide-open plains I grew up on, where the horizon stretches out forever and open roads dart across the wheatfields. With traces of lap steel peppering many of their songs, their driving guitars and introspective, hyper-literate lyrics, they count many a bespectacled, chronically-mistunderstood English major among their faithful fanbase.

Samson’s lyrics are always paint a very vivid picture and he treats his subjects with the kind of reverence you reserve for dysfunctional relatives and small-town friends. Here’s a sample-

I still hear trains at night, when the wind is right.
I remember everything, lick and thread this string
that will never mend you
or tailor more than a memory of a kitchen floor,
or the fire-door that we kept propping open.
And I love this place; the enormous sky,
and the faces, hands that I’m haunted by,
so why can’t I forgive these buildings,
these frameworks labeled “Home”?

That’s from a song called This Is A Fire Door, Never Leave Open. Every time I listen to that part of the song, I find myself uncontrollably humming or singing along. Who among us hasn’t had memories and thoughts just like those? Almost every Weakerthans song has a moment or two like that, where they lyrics touch you so deeply, in a place you least expected. For me, the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, other people I’ve talked to say that they just get chills or faraway stares as they remember something from their childhood or formative years.

It’s not just the lyrics alone, though, it’s the whole package. The chunky guitars and the peppering of pedal steel matched with Samson’s nasal-y, matter-of-fact delivery just tug at your heartstrings at every opportunity. This is a band built for nostalgic trips down memory lane.

They’re a thinking-man’s working band. Or a working-man’s thinking band. Either way, they’re awesome.

The Weakerthans - Anchorless

And here’s the video for “Civil Twilight,” where the band acts…Canadian.

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