Here in the Fraser Valley, what was once a flourishing local music scene was stunted in its growth by economic hardship and the COVID-19 pandemic. But it finds itself slowly rebuilding that community. There are plenty of shows trying to recapture that growth, but for local musicians with other responsibilities to juggle, sometimes the most an event can hope to achieve is getting people in the door. The Cascade sat down with Daniel Sallos of Morse Code Literature, Alison May, and Dylan Pope, to discuss what it’s like being a musician in the Fraser Valley.
Sallos began: “We didn’t really play in any live acts before COVID … A lot of venues that had existed were pretty much gone … People wanted to [play], but there just weren’t really places to do it … A lot of bands quit too … People who were trying to make more of a thing out of it, COVID really kicked that in.”
A talent night, hosted at the Atangard Community Project, boasted a crowd of about 20 people, with a handful of acts including Sallos, May, and Pope. The show stood out as a great example of the sort of intimacy and authenticity offered by tightly knit communities. May, somewhat of an advocate for showing up for your village even when it’s rough, spoke on her desire to foster connection, rebuild a bit of what was lost, and how the talent night contributed to that.
“The Atangard thing was such a great first few steps to rebuilding the community that I saw happening in Abbotsford five years ago … We need to do more of this … and reintroduce [ourselves] into the social world … The most beautiful thing about humankind is that we have all this creativity and so much to share. I just want us to get back together. I miss it.”
Beyond a single show, the common sentiment amongst the performers was engagement. Even with complaints about the size of the space, or some technical difficulties, the ability for a relatively innocuous hole in the wall show to be able to bring together so many musicians and passionate audience members was impressive. Sallos commented on this, and how it defied usual expectations.
“I don’t think I’ve played an open mic type of thing with that much of an engaged crowd in a while. A lot of these open mics tend to be like, you go there and there’s the usual crowd who show up every Thursday and they will be nice and supportive, but there’s definitely a circle there. I don’t get the impression that Atangard was like that.”
He added, “The atmosphere was very ‘come as you are … everyone sitting on the floor while you’re playing … you look up and there’s 20 people just standing right there.”
Similarly, Pope commented on how easy the setting made not just connecting with his fellow performers and the audience, but getting excited for each other, and becoming fans of other local talent.
“We all just kind of run into each other … It’s a lot of cool people who love to play music … What’s really cool about Atangard, specifically, is the community. You just build it immediately …
“You might find your next favourite artist at one of these gigs. 20 years down the line people will be like, ‘Oh I remember seeing them at Atangard before before they hit it big.”
But, one night’s revelry only proves a temporary relief from the hardships of being a small-time performer. In a scene so close to the Greater Vancouver Area, with opportunities rife with competition, finding stability and income playing music is difficult. Daniel Sallos spoke on this from a pragmatic standpoint, being frank with his expectations as an artist.
“A gig’s a gig … Let’s be transparent with this, none of us are making a career out of it. We have other jobs. If you’re trying to do this level of stuff for the money, I think you’re in the wrong. I know a lot of people will hate to hear that … this is sort of a thing where you have to be doing it on behalf of the community.”
The issue presents itself as one of standing out. It isn’t enough to just be a good musician, but being your own manager, making content on social media, and sticking out from the crowd is rough. Pope put this best, talking about how collaborative and humbling starting out was, but how finding people to play with and perform for kept him going.
“There is a certain amount of obsession that comes with this. And I think you do kind of need that obsession. You need to have that drive. That’s really the best thing that can possibly happen.”
So, the effort of making it as a performer in the Fraser Valley is not with the promise of fame or fortune. It’s about passion, it’s about community. Building a network of talented people to share in your art and uplift each other. In the wise words of Alison May: “All it needs is 15 people. 15 good minds together can change the world.”
