Corb Lund on politics
Why this ‘writer of agricultural tragedies’ can’t, won’t, stop, not talking about politics
There’s an old (overNASHVILLE used) saying that goes something along the lines of, never talk politics or religion around the dinner table.
It’s not (necessarily) bad advice. And so, on a rainy October afternoon in Nashville, Alberta’s cowboy-poet savant (or as he prefers to describe himself, “writer of agricultural tragedies”) Corb Lund puts the no religion and politics theory to practice around the diner table.
Brown’s Diner, that is.
A dive that happens to be just a stone’s throw away from his homeaway-from-home, a converted garage in the backyard belonging to his good buddy, and occasional creative collaborator, songwriter Hayes Carll.
Lund, who hails from Taber, splits his time between touring, helping out on his family ranch near Waterton and recording in Music City.
Over a coke and cheeseburger — “best burger in town, y’all,” says the waitress, convincingly — Lund explains in earnest that he’s not interested in going on the record about oil, coal, electric cars or politics ... anymore.
“I have a lot of thoughts on this kind of stuff, a lot. But I’m not talking about it. Sorry …” he says.
There’s only one problem. This guy clearly loves talking about politics. He loves talking about politics so much, that he suggests we focus this story on why he “won’t talk about politics publicly.”
The Juno Award winner has, however, talked plenty about policy in the past. In 2015, he was quoted in a well-known Canadian magazine about the need to diversify the Alberta economy and place more importance on alternative energy sources. He’s also been represented in national newspapers, waxing poetic about his respect for the progressive-energy and innovation ideologies of Elon Musk. Lund has suggested, on record, that Canadians consider driving electric-powered cars.
When you’re a cowboy from oil country, that’s really saying something.
“Yes,” says Lund, but adds it’s important to note he’s also gone on record about how “I get annoyed by the folks who criticize Alberta for producing oil while they’re using it, and how I don’t feel there’s an ethical or moral distance between extracting it and using it. Notable that I alienate people on the left with my opinions as often as I do people on the right.
“My views are really all over the place,” he says. “I don’t have any answers, and the more I read and learn, the less and less sure I am.”
Lund is annoyed with a world that seems to be “so, darn, polarized lately," and since he’s been misquoted before ... "or misunderstood, perhaps, is the right word,” he’s put a personal moratorium on political discourse.
“My views on oil and gas, politics of Alberta, it’s all very nuanced and complicated. At least to me, it is. It takes a while to explain what I’m trying to say. I don’t have the faith that people will absorb the whole thing.”
Lund’s in Nashville because he’s just finished wrapping his tour of the U.S., which took him through states such as Texas and Oklahoma. On Nov. 2, he’ll change gears for a show at the Jack Singer Concert Hall. It will be an artsyfartsy, liberal-arts type of show (compared to the usual honkytonk venues he inhabits and gigs he hosts). Attendees will experience a country-meets-classical collaboration between Lund and the Calgary Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Karl Hirzer.
Then it’s on to one-horse towns across Alberta, B.C. and Saskatchewan, where he’ll share a few stories and B.S. between tunes on the C.L. Solo Acoustic Tour. Again, Lund will be keeping that B.S. tactful and tame. He’s fed up with ticking off people every time he opens his big — well, that is, every time his opinions get aired.
“I can’t even open my mouth with people after shows at the bar because I get into trouble with them. So, I just don’t do it anymore.”
It’s a frustrating situation for a guy who has built a career around resonating positively with Alberta fans as well as those farther afield. He’s got fans in the city and fans in the country, fans on the farm and fans on the freeway. That’s because he sings about everything from ranching to romance, farming to trucking, and oil rigging to veterinarian woes.
While some artists enjoy taking to the soapbox, Twitter, talk radio, and the like to air their world views, Lund thinks that’s just plain dumb.
“I don’t want to hear people spouting off, and a lot of artists aren’t even that smart. I don’t give a hoot what they think. Put it in your song, or your book or the role in your movie if you care that much. Celebrities have every right to express themselves just like every other citizen, but they have a platform so they can be much more vocal and people will hear them, and I’m aware of it. I don’t want to be that guy,” he says.
Fans such as Jarrett Warner say Lund’s ever-changing views, and straight-shooting approach is just part of the package.
“To a lot of people, he’s your stereotypical Alberta cowboy. But at the same time, every now and again he’ll bring up something or some policy that goes against that grain. And that’s OK,” says Warner, who grew up in Dogpound.
“I know some people in the city think of him as more of a lefty hipster. But it’s not his fault. The hipsters took flannel and plaid and that stereotypical cowboy image and made it contemporary. ”
Warner, 29, bridges his time between helping on his family ranch and a career as a landman in Calgary. He and his friends don’t care what Lund’s political philosophies are; they’re on-board for the jams.
“He can say what he wants and if we disagree that’s OK because we have such respect for the guy. He’s the only real country singer in Al- berta singing about what our lives are really like out here. You can’t fake a song like Talkin’ Veterinarian Blues. ‘I’ve treated my share of sugar beet chokes?’ You have to be a farmer to get that one. He makes us feel heard and like our lives out here matter.”
That’s the more significant goal for Lund, to feed the hearts of those who will listen.
“Art and music are essential for the human soul, and the well-being of people. I think we lack that in our world right now,” he says. “I’m just trying to do my part.”
Right before he shows up in Calgary to play with the orchestra, he will put money where his mouth is: he bids Nashville adieu early this week and heads home to play a benefit show in Twin Butte on Nov. 1, for ranchers who lost their places during recent wildfires.
“It’s a drop in the bucket. Whether we raise five grand or ten grand in Twin Butte, it’s nothing to someone who lost their house. I know that,” says Lund.
“But I think the function of that is more important. It’s about trying to make people feel and realize that they aren’t forgotten ... I think there’s a place for art to live that has a more noble function than political daily current events B.S.”
Then, he politely asks me to: “turn off your tape recorder so that we can talk politics, now …”
My views on oil and gas, politics of Alberta, it’s all very nuanced and complicated. At least to me, it is.