Barenaked obsession

Despite the somewhat scandalous title of this blog, there is no actual nudity. I’m merely referencing my somewhat embarrassing obsession with the band Barenaked Ladies.

Yes, I’m a fan of a group of five middle-aged Canadian men who sing about wasabi and boxed macaroni (although not in the same song).

In fact, the title of my blog, “Sanity is Overrated,” is a reference to a BNL lyric — “I have loved and I have waited, been picked up and been sedated. Mental health is overrated.” So, needless to say, I’m a little obsessed.

Just a few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of attending my eighth BNL concert. It was one of the best shows ever, but that’s only part of the reason I love this band. Another major draw is I’ve made some of my best friends (or grown closer to old ones) as a result of their concerts. This past venture was no different.

I recently found out that two of The Gargoyle staffers are also fans. (Tom, Glenn, I’m outing you here.) I met one of my best friends three years ago after a BNL concert. We were both waiting at an ungodly hour to meet the band and we’ve been friends ever since.

My college roommate introduced me to their music in 1998, just months before they made a name for themselves in the U.S. with their No. 1 single “One Week.” Although I can remember a guy who was on high school yearbook staff with me getting reprimanded for wearing a BNL T-shirt. Our teacher was offended by the name.

“It’s a bunch of fat, fully-clothed Canadian men,” he pleaded.

I thought his response was hysterical, and something about that unusual description and even stranger band name stuck with me. After all, Jeremy’s taste in music was impeccable.

Flash forward ten years later and I’m a full on fan. I now have a total of about six friends I’ve met either online on BNL message boards or at concerts (and one nemesis, so designated for his extreme rudeness at the most recent concert).

But it’s the music that keeps me coming back. Something about it just works for me. It makes me happy. And that’s about the best quality you can ask for from your favorite music.

I have included a brief clip of my new favorite song by the boys from Scarborough, simply because my vocal stylings appear on the track. That’s right, listen carefully and you can hear my blood curdling scream (It’s about nine seconds in) as I realize they’re about to play “I Can, I Will, I Do” — which has quickly become my new favorite because of Steven Page’s ability to stretch (or in this case contain) his voice for effect. I love that man.

Enjoy. 😉