Gord Bamford,
I remember seeing Gord Bamford at the 2014 Juno Awards as part of the show’s obligatory shout out to country music fans.
Tacked on the rear end of a song by Brett Kissel, introduced with elaborate orchestration and a gospel choir, this less-than-svelte figure ambled up to the mike and launched into a tune that was, quite simply, undeniable.
“When Your Lips are So Close” was that song, a twangy, retro-tinged masterpiece co-written by Bamford that resonated with the urgency of obsessive love and deservedly peaked at No. 1 on the Billboard Canada country chart.
Who the hell is this guy? I remember thinking. How come I never heard of him?
Further research revealed the 41-yearold Calgary resident — who moved from Australia when he was five — is one of Canada’s most decorated country artists, with a truckload of Canadian Country Music Awards, Juno nominations and a string of Top 20 singles that stretch back to 2010.
He’s also one of only three Canadians, and the only two time honouree, to win the Country Music Association’s 2013 and 2015 CMA Global Country Artist Award.
All this and 75 cents, of course, will buy him a cup of coffee.
“My business model has always been very blue collar,” confides the low-key father of three, at peace, if not totally content, with his lack of name recognition outside his loyal fan base.
“I’ve always had the goal of establishing a career where you could sell 1,000 tickets a night across Canada and maintain a fan base.”
He’s done that, to his credit, and is enjoying a very nice career in his adopted country, playing coast to coast with loyal fans cheering every step of the way.
Having said this, he’s mystified why his Canadian success has failed to translate into broader support in the prestigious U.S. market that could catapult him to the big time.
“I had literally a handful of (radio) program directors look me in the eye and say ‘It’s good stuff, but you’re Canadian’,” he confides of his recent two year move to Tennessee (and back).
“I just find it very much territorial. If you aren’t from America, that’s a definite strike against you from the start.
And if, like Bamford, you attempt to break into the U.S. market without the backing of a major Canadian label, “you’re gonna need five million dollars. The payola game is very real.”
Adjusting his career plans accordingly, the dogged songwriter moved back to Calgary with no regrets, happy to be in a country that embraces him on the grassroots level he needs to survive.
But even here the spectre of the great U.S. machine has, on occasion, stymied his ambitions.
“Canadian music festivals don’t want to put a Canadian on the top of the bill,” he notes, referring to a stint at the Boots & Hearts country fest a few summers back.
“They’ll bring up an artist from the States who doesn’t have nearly the accolades.”
While they get a prime evening slot, “we play at 4:30 in the afternoon.” He pauses, mystified. “I’ve been at festivals where 30,000 people have come to my show and sing every song — versus the two songs they know by the (U.S. headliners) who come on after me.”
He’s not complaining — merely pointing out the reality every indie Canadian musician has to contend with: the complete domination of the U.S. music machine, even when it sets foot here in Canada.
“As Canadians, we don’t give ourselves enough credit,” he points out bluntly. “There’s a stigma thing.”
If there’s an upside, it’s that Bamford takes nothing for granted, putting out one quietly arresting album after another, racking up hit singles, never second guessing and never looking back.
“I don’t want people to think I’m antiAmerican,” enthuses the genial underdog, who just released his eighth album, “Neon Smoke.” “Everything happens for a reason.
“I’m putting bums in seats and building a foundation for the future. Doing what I love is all that matters.”
It helps that he meets the criteria for the Canadian Rule of Gords, which states that if you are musician whose first name is Gord, you are a man of the people who will be embraced on an intensely personal level for now and forever. Gordon Lightfoot, Gord Downie ... While he would never place himself in the same rarified company, Bamford’s no frills, down-home approach puts him, arguably, on the same path. He laughs at that one. “I’ve got three kids and a beautiful wife. I write about stuff I relate to, which is the stuff most people relate to. Meat and potatoes country music.”
He pauses, taking a moment to sum up his philosophy.
“I don’t try to reinvent the wheel,” he notes humbly. “If it’s working, don’t change it. I keep it simple and basic.”