Nick Rose flips through used records in the Classic Rock section of Pandemonium, a sprawling record/bookstore in Toronto’s Junction neighbourhood. Rose isn’t looking for anything specific, but he stops excitedly, pulling Neil Young’s There Comes a Time from the crates. “This album I grew up listening to,” he says, “We actually did a cover of […]
Publishing date: Sep, 18, 2019
Nick Rose flips through used records in the Classic Rock section of Pandemonium, a sprawling record/bookstore in Toronto’s Junction neighbourhood. Rose isn’t looking for anything specific, but he stops excitedly, pulling Neil Young’s There Comes a Time from the crates. “This album I grew up listening to,” he says, “We actually did a cover of the title track.”
Rose is one of the bandleaders of Dwayne Gretzky, a Toronto-based cover band gathering national attention for energetic, inventive re-workings of classic tracks and creating an atmosphere of nostalgic joy at each show, where every member of the audience feels among best friends. Dwayne Gretzky has delighted countless crowds in the Toronto area—and across Canada, from Nunavut to the Calgary Stampede. Now, their self-titled record of reinterpreted covers aims to capture the feel-good vibe they’re known for.
“The whole point of the band is just celebrating the best songs, or at least our favourite songs,” says Rose, gesturing thoughtfully to the rows of records behind him. “We started covering the songs we grew up listening to, sifting through albums that our parents had.”
Tyler Kyte, Rose’s co-bandleader—and childhood friend from Lindsay, Ontario—agrees. “This band is based on nostalgia,” he says, recalling the songs that made him feel something as a teenager. “When we play a song that someone has forgotten about, it maybe brings them back to that place—before they grew up. It’s a powerful thing when it works.”
Rose and Kyte say Dwayne started by accident through a series of “hangs” and jam sessions in the basement of their old apartment building. Friends would fill in on different instruments, many eventually staying with the band. It’s hard to keep track of the group, even internally. Kyte takes a deep breath before counting band members on his fingers and reciting their roles. “It grew naturally,” says Kyte. “We didn’t plan to start a band with 10-plus band members. But one thing led to another and I think we’re stronger because of it.”
“We didn’t plan to start a band with 10-plus band members. But one thing led to another and I think we’re stronger because of it.”
Their shows still have the feeling of a giant jam session, albeit a perfectly curated one. The band’s many members have a rare palpable chemistry, playing more like one cohesive organism than separate entities, and creating a celebratory atmosphere that they hope people will pick up on the record.
“I think performing live and recording music are two different things,” says Rose. “I hope that whoever likes Dwayne Gretzky, who comes to our shows, will pick up the album and still feel like it feels like us.”
“It started as an experiment,” says Kyte of their intentions to reinterpret covers in a studio setting. “We tried a couple songs and dressed them up in different clothes. People are going to hear songs they’ll be familiar with to a certain extent, but there’s going to be something new in it.” Perhaps the most surprising song on the album, he says, is a Queens of the Stone Age track played in the 2000s dance club style of Kylie Minogue. “It’s completely out of context.”
The record’s songs were chosen democratically among band members. Rose and Kyte say there’s no real throughline, just a series of ideas and sparks. “We wanted it to be a big fun diverse mess.” Dwayne’s range is often enthusiastically praised by critics and fans. The group’s repertoire spans genres and eras—from Queen to Brtiney Spears—its criteria being fun, danceable, and nostalgic.
Despite being touted as “Toronto’s favourite band,” Rose says the group has faced some questions surrounding what it means to play songs written by others. “The archetypal cover band conjures up images of middle aged men in fedoras and vests going through songs at a bar mitzvah. So it has an odour to it.” Those questions don’t bother him, though; bringing the amount of joy he’s seen on crowd members’ faces is so worthwhile.
“Besides,” he says as he roams around Pandemonium with no clear direction, “there are just so many good songs.”