Guitar, drums, a vibrator and a bicycle wheel

How did Barr Brothers come about?

Brad and I were playing in a band that had a show in Montreal, it was our first time in the city, and we were inspired. When the venue caught fire, all of the staff, patrons and band members had to flee the building and hang out under a canopy in the rain. This was my luck because I had met and fallen in love with a waitress over the course of our show.

I shortly after moved into an apartment with her, my now wife.Soon after, we moved to an island off the coast of Massachusetts and were living in a small yurt in the woods when I got a call from my brother. He had envisioned a band. He had moved to Montreal soon after I did and happened to rent an apartment which shared a wall with a harpist, Sarah Page. He would hear her practicing in the mornings and as he was snoozing in and out of wakefulness, he would grab his guitar and play along. One day he wrote a song based on something he heard her playing through the wall. He knocked on her door and ended up teaching it  back to her, as she had no recognition of what he was showing her. They realised the potential in the harp guitar collaboration, and with a few additions the band was born.

Our first record was recorded over a few years of playing around, not really intended as a record, it was more a process of just recording songs at our studio as they were being written.  

What does Canada mean to you?

We moved to Canada from Rhode Island. It was the first major move that I have made in my life, so I can only speak from this one experience. When you move somewhere new, I think you are this mix of highly perceptive, seemingly anonymous, and somewhat vulnerable and you rely on the good graces of the people you meet to give you a sense of place and home. Transplanting to Montreal felt like moving to an artistic safe haven.

In Montreal in 2007 it seemed like everyone that I met was an artist of some sort ; filmmakers, designers, chefs, musicians, DJ’s. And so many artists were/still are was interested in collaborating and pushing the boundries of formal and accepted artistic norms. It was very affordable and easy to navigate and Brad and I found ourselves in a community of really supportive artists many who I now consider my closest friends. The Canadian government is also extremely supportive, and the audiences care about and become invested in their musicians. It’s a country that has a lot to offer the world, though most Canadians would be too humble to admit that.

We caught your End of the Road Festival performance – how do you approach festival sets, is it your favourite songs? Your most popular songs? A snapshot of your back catalogue?

Festivals are giant parties. Often times a large part of the festival audiences have never heard you, and so there’s this almost busker element of capturing peoples imaginantion for the first time. Every festival is different. Sometimes you are playing for 30 minutes, sometimes an hour and a half, sometimes you are in front of 30,000 people with your full show, sometimes it’s 300 people with no time for a soundcheck. We somewhat adapt our sets to the venue, to play with the space and use the largest dynamic range we can in that environment. More people are learning our songs now, so you do get to play with that element, but largely, we just try to deliver our songs and be as invested in the show as possible, even if it’s 30 minutes. We need to feel that in the time we have, we have connected to audience, otherwise you can feel like you failed yourselves.

What can we expect from your Bristol show? 

If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise! What I can say is that to deliver our songs, our harpist has just discovered an amazing new technique using electrical tape, our pedal steel player just discovered how to play the steel with a vibrator, our bass player hails from the surf town of Santa Cruz, my brother will use some tricks he learned from a Romanian Violinist and I will likely play the spokes of a bicycle wheel.

You seem really busy, do you ever get time to just chill? And what does that look like for you?

Oddly enough, after a year of being locked up in the studio and seven months of non stop touring, I have found myself on the beach in Mexico swimming with a turtle. This is a rare occurrence, but I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t enjoy a little sunshine and beach time now and again. Usually at this time of year, chill time involves putting on the boots and tuk (Canadian for winter hat) and meeting some friends at a neighbourhood (sic) bar for a hot toddy and maybe a sled down Mount Royal.

You did Letterman recently – did that go well?

If by “go well” you mean, did you feel like you were pushed out of an airplane, flying through the air in suspended time, unsure of how or where you were going to land, and finally found that as time had passed both slower and faster than usual over the last three minutes, you opened your parachute, landed on your feet, felt an exhilarating calm and then found yourself eating carrots four flights up at the CBS building in NY as if none of it had ever happened, than heck yea, it went great.

What would be your dream TV performance?

I think every band wants to play Saturday Night Live, just to get to hang out with some great comedians, laugh your ass off, and be a part of that legacy.

Tell us something we won’t know about you…

Our mother was Julia Child’s executive chef for 20 years. Growing up, we got to spend a lot of time in Julia’s kitchen and even some time in her house in France. It all made for some pretty exciting memories, and she was an inspiring, down to earth woman. My last meal with her was a hot dog, clams, and a beer. 

The Barr Brothers play The Lantern on January 22. Tickets £10.75 from www.colstonhall.org/shows/barr-brothers/