A few days back, we released a list of albums that can legally purchase alcohol in 2013. Now, by popular demand, we’ve assembled a fully Canadian list of albums which can finally buy two-fours (without help from their older siblings). So, from Victoria to St. John, here are the tops of 1994′s graduating class. We tip our mickeys of Canadian Club to you.
Our Lady Peace—Naveed
In 1994, this LP launched Toronto alt-rock outfit Our Lady Peace into the national spotlight with singles like “Starseed” and “Naveed.” In 2013, Raine Maida and his OLP bros are less concerned with Supersatellites, and more concerned with super spin classes. Accordingly, Naveed probably doesn’t booze much—aside from a daily glass of red for the heart—so, someone fetch Naveed a Muscle Milk protein shake, stat.
Tragically Hip—Day for Night
Gord Downie’s the only songwriter who routinely earns props from both CBC’s Canada Reads and ex-bro real estate agents. For that, we have Day For Night, and its huge single, “Nautical Disaster,” to thank. This is where high culture meets hoser culture, so, on its 19th birthday, buy Day For Night a cold Labatt 50.
Twice Removed might be maritime Canada’s finest contribution to the world (sorry, donairs, Anne of Green Gables, and Sidney Crosby). We’re celebrating its near-perfect tracklist—how good is “I Hate My Generation,” or “Coax Me,” or “Snowsuit Sound,” even two decades later?—by downing like, a zillion growlers. You should, too.
Remember when Treble Charger were the dorky kings of Canadian indie rock? Yeah, neither do we. Yet in 1994, they stormed out of Ontario’s music with NC17, led by the sprawling (or “bitchin’,” as they might say in mid-’90s) single, “Red.” Get these future pop-punk dads a Rickard’s already, eh?
Then came the Rheostatics’ Introducing Happiness, which had oddball theatrical hits in “Fan Letter to Michael Jackson” and “Claire.” It was the LP which cemented the Rheos a veritable cult smash—cord and ringer tee-rocking Cancon dudes still argue over whether Bidini, Tielli, or Vesely wrote better songs (never using their first names, of course). For the rest of us, it’s like choosing between Canadian, Blue and Ex—there are nuances to each, but honestly, we can’t tell the difference.
Ewww, how gross is the world “moist”? It just sounds profane. Just try saying it: “Mmmmmoissssst.” Yet as gross as this band’s name was, their songs weren’t much better: “Push” and “Silver,” this LP’s singles, still feel like faux-sensual stripper anthems. Wash Silver‘s greasy fuck-rock down with straight Grey Goose and lots and lots of lubricant.
Jann Arden—Living Under June
On a national level, this soft-rock goddess is remembered as Canada’s answer to Paula Cole, but in Calgary, she’s still a local hero. To her, we raise a Bloody Caesar, which, if you were unaware, is Cowtown’s most beloved contribution to Canadian culture.
Barenaked Ladies—Maybe You Should Drive
By 1994, the Barenaked Ladies were Canrock joke-rock stars, thanks to the toddler-friendly “If I had a $1,000,000.” So, by the time Maybe You Should Drive was released, Ed Robertson and co. likely didn’t need to eat Kraft Dinner anymore, but there’s little that would taste better after a nine-hour boozing session at The Palace.
Maestro Fresh Wes—Naaaah, Dis Kid Can’t Be From Canada?
Somewhere in between “Let Your Backbone Slide”—the song that some music historians argue made rap permissible in Canada—and his shark-jumping 1998 single, “Stick to Your Vision,” came Naaah, Dis Kid Can’t be From Canada?, which some call Maestro’s best LP. To a true Torontonian innovator, we raise a Scarborough-brewed Mill Street in salute.
This cleaned-up, Ramones-indebted power pop’s all about whippets and chugging cough syrup until everything’s moving in slo-mo. Who needs alcohol, anyhow?
Correction: We erroneously listed Sarah McLachlan’s Fumbling Towards Ecstasy and Blue Rodeo’s Five Days in July as albums that were released in 1994. They were not. Thanks to the readers who pointed this out.