I am the oldest a millennial can be, which affords me the opportunity to have a decent grip on pop-culture trends, but also the excuse that, if I don’t know of something, I can claim I’m just an adorable old man who over-waters my lawn. It truly is the Goldilocks zone.
I decided to put this age-old experience and unmatched wisdom to use by looking at some lesser-known Pittsburgh musicians who “slap hard af.”
The year was 2003. There was a war in Darfur. The Ba'athist regime was ending in Iraq. And in Pittsburgh, “She’ll spear your heart in the Fox Chapel / She’ll stomp it on Squirrel Hill.” So go the lyrics from the song “Menopause Diaries” off of indie rock troubadours The Speaking Canaries’ fourth album Get Out Alive: The Long Version.
The Speaking Canaries, formed in 1991 months before guitarist and vocalist Damon Che’s more well-known Don Caballero, consisted of Che, the late Karl Hendricks (who died in 2017), and Noah Leger.
Get Out Alive: The Long Version continues to excel outside of the era in which it debuted, which is not surprising when you consider that The Speaking Canaries were loosely classified as an indie band before “indie” went from a term used for independent record labels to a genre-defining term used to describe the sound of bands like The Strokes.
The first track “I Wear Glasses in the Most Brutal Sport Ever Invented” has that signature Che song-title specificity. Your best chance for a taste would be to hear it coming out of your much cooler, older cousin’s room during a family Thanksgiving. The song opens with a single note, the staccato guitar being plucked and bent so aggressively you wait for the sweet release of the string breaking. It never does. Then enter the bass and drums, which join the guitar to create what amounts to a three-minute track that is all build.
Listeners are then treated to the smooth but never soft “Menopause Diaries,” a song rife with vocal harmonies and perfectly panned rhythm and lead guitars, both chunky and precise, respectively. The sound defies logic, era, and, most importantly, the 2003 Pittsburgh music scene. (If I’m wrong about this, reread my caveat.)
Get Out Alive continues to surprise throughout its eight tracks. If this album has a ballad, it’s “Coffin Jitters,” which layers whispery “Don’t worry” vocals over guitar harmonics and supple drum delay. The sound is both soothing and alarming, as is typical with undefinable sounds.
“Last Side of Town part 2” features a haunting melody and some of the most impressive guitar work on the album, if you can make it past the spooky parts: “There’s a searchlight in your eyes /And a ransom in your heart.” Yikes.
The early-aughts were a strange time in America. Nerd culture was becoming mainstream with major network hits like The O.C. leading the way. George W. Bush stood on an aircraft carrier in front of a sign that read “Mission Accomplished” for a war we’re still fighting. Somehow, I graduated college. And Pittsburgh “indie band” The Speaking Canaries wrote the indescribable Get Out Alive: The Long Version. And that’s the only moment worth revisiting.
(Full Disclosure: I would revisit The O.C. with anybody, anytime.)
