If Dan Mangan needed a reminder that he鈥檚 no longer the up-and-coming 20-something indie rocker taking Canada鈥檚 music scene by storm, he got it at a recent performance.
鈥淭he other day at a merch table, a grown human 鈥� like, a man 鈥� came to me and said, 鈥業鈥檝e been listening to your music since I was in Grade 3.鈥欌�� Mangan pauses. 鈥淚t blew my mind. It was a reminder that I鈥檓 no longer a fresh face in this racket.鈥�
Mangan鈥檚 warm baritone conveys a combination of wry humour and acceptance. It鈥檚 the tone of man who knows where he鈥檚 been and where he鈥檚 going and who feels pretty comfortable with both. (And, for a guy who鈥檚 stuck in traffic in Tacoma while he鈥檚 taking time out for a cellphone interview, he also sounds pretty chill.)
Mangan is on his way to play Pickathon in Happy Valley, Oregon. Next up is the Edmonton Folk Music Festival before he loops back for the Burnaby Blues and Roots Festival on Saturday, Aug. 10.
鈥淚鈥檓 looking forward to it. It鈥檚 a great lineup. I鈥檓 a huge admirer of Feist, and I鈥檝e heard good things about Lord Huron 鈥� I鈥檝e never seen them play,鈥� he says. And there鈥檚 no denying the location is a big plus. 鈥淭here鈥檚 always a little excitement around a hometown show.鈥�
The Deer Lake festival is about as hometown as it gets for the Vancouver-based Mangan. And it comes with the added bonus of daytime hours (Mangan鈥檚 onstage starting at 5:30 p.m.) and a family-friendly venue, so Mangan鈥檚 two children can come hear him play. His six-year-old was at his show at the Vogue in February, but it鈥檒l be a first for his two-year-old.
Having his children as part of his life in the music industry is important for Mangan, whose view of his life and his work has undergone a profound shift over the past six years.
Partly, that shift comes from aging. At 36, Mangan has a different outlook on life now than he did when Nice, Nice, Very Nice shot him to public attention in 2009 and got him shortlisted for the Polaris Music Prize in 2010.
鈥淚t never has been more clearly demonstrated that I am no longer young than by putting out this record that鈥檚 kind of about being torn between the identity of being a dad and the identity of being a musician,鈥� he says. 鈥淭he music industry is so youth-oriented and so cool-oriented. Not that this will come as a surprise, but dads are not cool.鈥�
But the change is much more profound than that.
鈥淯p until I had kids, I think music was my identity. That鈥檚 who I was; I was a musician. Then you start to feel, 鈥業鈥檓 a person, I鈥檓 a dad, I鈥檓 a husband; I鈥檓 an individual who happens to be a musician,鈥欌�� he says.
鈥淚n some ways you鈥檙e letting go of a romantic idea of what music is in your life and adopting a slightly more pragmatic one, but, weirdly, in my mind, making peace with that actually brought back some of the romance of it.鈥�
Mangan admits music never used to feel like work. Now, though, when his kids ask him why he has to go away and he says, 鈥淭his is Daddy鈥檚 work,鈥� it frames his life as a musician differently.
鈥淪trangely, it鈥檚 never mattered more to me,鈥� he says.
His children are a huge part of the reason why he wants to keep making music that鈥檚 personal, and relevant, and as good as it can be 鈥� so that, in the future, when his kids rediscover his music as young adults, they will realize their father had something to say.
Which means that all the songs on More or Less are pretty much his life 鈥� as a dad, as a husband, as just a guy in 麻豆传媒映画watching the news and wondering what it all means for the planet.
鈥淭he bad news is that it鈥檚 not cool. The good news is that it鈥檚 relevant. There鈥檚 lots of other people experiencing that,鈥� he says.
And that, for Mangan, is at the heart of the artist鈥檚 mission.
鈥淎ny time you do anything creative or you build something or you make something, you鈥檙e just sending your little smoke signal out into the world that says, 鈥楾his is how I feel.鈥欌��
Finding someone who feels the same way? That, he says, is rewarding for both listener and artist. 鈥淏oth parties are a little bit less alone because of it.鈥�
Don鈥檛 be misled; Mangan鈥檚 work isn鈥檛 all warm fuzzies about fatherhood. He still tackles state-of-the-universe and fate-of-humanity sorts of questions, and he still uses his music to reflect on the dark side of society.
鈥溾�楬ell in a handbasket鈥� has kind of always been in my work, but I think the tone has changed,鈥� he says, pointing to his 2015 album, Club Meds. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 my most political, jarring and sort of lyrically punchy work, but that was before there was a narcissist sociopath in the Oval Office.
鈥淚 think that if anything this new work is as political, but it鈥檚 a little warmer, a little bit more endearing or earnest. In 2015, I had my dukes up and I was ready to fight. I think, at this point, I just wanted this record to feel like a benevolent sort of place where you can rest your mind from the insanity.鈥�
If that benevolence happens to come along with even more commercial success, who鈥檚 he to argue?
But 鈥渟uccess,鈥� in the sense of sales and fame, isn鈥檛 what drives him to keep on.
听鈥淚f you start to define your worth based on the response to your work, then you鈥檙e subject to the whims of the world that you can鈥檛 control,鈥� he says.
Which means he tries not to listen to the compliments or to the criticisms.
鈥淚f you believe one, then you have to believe the other. I sleep better if I try not to believe either,鈥� he says.
He鈥檚 candid, too, about the fact that, despite all his success in the music industry so far, he still feels in many ways like an outsider.
鈥淚鈥檓 signed to a big record label. I鈥檝e got an agent and a publicist. Strangely, maybe it鈥檚 just weird perpetual denial or something, but I still feel on the outside of the industry, on the outside of having been embraced on a large level,鈥� he says.
That said, he knows he鈥檚 been able to do incredible things 鈥� he鈥檚 earned JUNO nominations and awards, he鈥檚 performed on late-night TV, he鈥檚 even performed for royalty (for Will and Kate for Canada Day on Parliament Hill in 2011).
鈥淭he 10-year-old version of myself would not believe any of that,鈥� he says. 鈥淵ou have to try to appreciate every little moment.鈥�
Which is exactly what he intends to do at Deer Lake Park, when he offers up a combination of his older hits and new work. There are some songs, he knows, that he just can鈥檛 leave the stage without performing and some that simply carry better in live settings. So, festivalgoers can expect a bit of a 鈥済reatest hits鈥� set.
Not, he鈥檚 quick to add, that he characterizes any of his songs as huge 鈥渉its.鈥�
鈥淭here鈥檚 still a whole lot of people out there who鈥檝e never heard any of my music,鈥� he admits.
Some of them, he hopes, will discover him at Deer Lake Park next weekend.
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GET YOUR TICKETS
What: Burnaby Blues + Roots Festival 2019
Where: Deer Lake Park
When: Saturday, Aug. 10, 1 to 10 p.m. Gates at noon.
Cost: $60 single, $200 for a four-pack in advance. Day-of-show single tickets at gate $70. Children 12 and under free with adult ticket (call 604-205-3000 to book).
Buy: or 1-855-985-5000
Information:
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