It's not Big Sugar, but really close.
They could call themselves Little Sugar, or even Half-N-Half or Sweet-N-Lo for variations on that theme, but Gordie Johnson and Kelly Hoppe go by the name Two Fools on Stools when they veer away from their seminal blues-rock-reggae main act and settle into a smaller spotlight for an acoustic set.
The two consummate Canadian musicians - both of them stars on their instruments (guitar/bass and harmonica/saxophone respectively, but also others) - are on their way for an intimate night in Prince George, just the two of them on the Twisted Cork stage.
"I'd rather be picking banjo in Prince George than sitting on a tour bus with a night off," said Johnson, explaining the unusual concert he and Hoppe have planned. Big Sugar has been to P.G. a number of times over the years, they know the area well, and while the Big Sugar tour sits idle between established gigs on their Calling All The Youth tour, these two are side-tripping for some extra audience.
It also gives them a chance to stretch some different musical muscles.
"We will be playing some of the stuff from the Big Sugar catalogue, but also some stuff that's intrigued us over the years, and other stuff we've written," said Johnson, who has made an international name for his aggressive, yet sensitive electric guitar playing and his lyrical acumen. Songs like Diggin A Hole, If I Had My Way, Better Get Used To It, Girl Watcher and many others besides put the nation on notice that Johnson and his four bandmates were a force.
He stepped the act over many borders as well, touring other continents and also moving his home to Austin, Texas, where he still resides. There he founded the country-metal band Grady, which has a whole life of its own. (He was also a member of Wide Mouth Mason in recent years, but that's another story.)
The move also gave Johnson a chance to steep in American culture with his Canadian mindset. As a guy who recorded a blistering solo guitar version of O Canada for the Brothers And Sisters Are You Ready album, has recorded many Big Sugar tunes in French as well as English, and been an outspoken advocate for Canadian culture in general, this was a significant adjusting of the mental lenses.
"It's a different culture, state to state," he said. "In Canada there is a lot of similarity in how we are as people from province to province. The U.S. might as well be Europe - you have these big differences in cultures just by crossing a border into a neighbouring state."
And the one he's chosen to live in actually has that "distinct society clause" built into its legislated identity.
"It is actually written into the state constitution that Texas, as a condition of joining the union, retains the right to secede - in five parts, actually - and become their own republic if they want to."
There isn't an active separatist movement in Texas, but it certainly informed the development of their cultural identity over the years, and one way or another, music became an intrinsic part of that culture. Texans take music seriously, Johnson said.
"Austin affords you a culture of making any form of music you want to. They accept music as a part of the daily lifestyle. You can make it as weird, as heavy, as light as you want to, and people will appreciate it," he explained. "For a musician, that is very agreeable to being a creative person."
He quickly noticed a refreshing lack of musical ego in Austin. Some of the world's most famous players - Jimmie Vaughan of The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top, Willie Nelson, so many more - spend a lot of time there and think nothing of jumping up on random stages to jam with random house bands or up-and-comers or veterans who never quite made it. It's about the music, said Johnson, and that makes for a beautiful living experience if you happen to be a music maker yourself.
Time has gone by, for Johnson, who was born in the mid-1960s in Winnipeg, grew up in Medicine Hat and Windsor, then moved to Toronto to break into music.
He's not a rampaging guitar god anymore. He isn't gripped by the fevers of youth. Changes in his life's musical tones, homes and cultures, experiencing tragedies and triumphs, getting a feel for life's keel all make him better at his craft, he said.
"Walk slower," he said, laying out one of the strongest lessons life has taught him so far. "People walk like they're in a car. Walk slower. Things occur to me when I walk slowly. You can make eye contact with strangers. You notice things."
When he was just starting out in music, back when he was a protg in Toronto, backing up blues-rock maven Molly Johnson and being a sideman with various acts, bouncing around with a younger Chris Brown (who went on to form the Bourbon Tabernacle Choir), transplanted Australian musician Terry Wilkins (he worked with Rough Trade, Lighthouse, etc.), a fresh-faced Tyler Stewart (a co-founding member of the Barenaked Ladies), and countless others, he had little money for transportation. When the late-night gigs were over, he'd take public transit as far as it would go at those black hours, but he was frequently left with a walk of about four miles. He would take his guitar out of the soft-shell case he would then sling over his shoulders, and he would play the guitar constantly on that walk. Little did he know, this would eventually become a central metaphor for the rest of his life. Walk slower.
He and his longtime sideman Kelly "Mr. Chill" Hoppe will walk slowly into the Twisted Cork. Those two fools will plop down on their stools and plunk out some interesting new versions of already interesting songs. Showtime is 7:30 on Monday night. Their special guest that night is Britt AM (of Goodnightmare, Crones, etc.), freshly returned from her solo tour of Canada.
Tickets are $30 at the Twisted Cork front counter.
