Sandy McIntosh is a local architect, but he’s more famous as the co-founder of the Sonic Unyon Recording Company, and also as the singer and guitarist for the defunct band Tristan Psionic. His office at Perkins + Will is open concept, a former bowling alley.

“People are always surprised when they walk in, by how open it is,” he says, “but I guess I’m used to this, back at Sonic Unyon we always had an open office.” Sandy sits at his desk, quickly glancing through his projects before grabbing his coat to head to the local café. He quickly introduces his associate who is also a musician and mentions that they jammed last night.

McIntosh orders his latte with whole milk, surprising considering his slender, healthy frame. He looks good at forty, only the small lines that form around his eyes when he smiles and the stray, course grey hairs that frame his face give any indication that he has aged since performing a dozen years ago.

“The idea of starting a band and making your own music – we just had an idea that we were doing this ourselves, and at the same time we didn’t know what we were doing, but we knew we wanted to make a living at it. It was a lot more attractive than the things we were studying at school,” he says. And make a living they did: Sonic Unyon is now in their twentieth year, though McIntosh left over a decade ago to pursue his new career. He eagerly discusses his history in the music industry.

“We met some people who had started labels, or who had put out their own music or were signed. The paths weren’t so clear and we just figured, ‘let’s do it ourselves, maybe then someone will notice,’ and of course then it really did take on a life of its own. We became responsible for putting out lots of other peoples’ records, which was really sort of a detriment to the band, but at the same time a real plus to the band, and to our careers working with music.”

His passion for music palpable, it’s surprising that McIntosh decided to step out of the industry. Sandy says that he always had an interest in architecture since high school, and that as he reached the age of thirty it was just his time to move on. He says his two careers have complemented each other.

“There are parallels for sure. I didn’t realize until I was at architecture school that the way bands come up with their sound, the way they gel different people, ideas, and elements that make a song in recording – you can go on and on about concepts through the completion of a project whether it’s music or architecture and you can see similarities.”

Ten years on from the label, McIntosh is shocked by its continued success. He says the key to making it in the independent market is flexibility: being able to use any resources and connections available to your benefit. However the music industry of 2012 is much different than the one Sonic Unyon was born into twenty years ago.

“I don’t know if there is money to be made as a record company. I doubt it. I think bands are now forced to play live the way they always were but even more so, which is really important anyway for music.”

Indeed, in the modern market fueled by downloads and instant access to what is new, record sales are down. The success of Sonic Unyon is truly an anomaly, and one worth celebrating. McIntosh says he is out of the loop now, and isn’t sure if there are any plans to celebrate the anniversary, yet he is hopeful for the chance to work with his old band again.

“There were talks about doing a Tristan Psionic reunion show. There may be one but I don’t know. It’s a bit of a stretch to pull us from our families and our other day-to-day lives, but who knows. It would be nice to actually record some new songs, maybe release a couple on iTunes or something. I doubt a whole album would be a possibility.” Sandy glances at his watch, realizing it is time to head back to the office. Smiling, he stands up and gives one last thought.

“Music is important. Without music life is boring.”

Tristan Psionic
Feves: The Sounds of Tristan Psionic
Sonic Unyon, 1994.

Tristan Psionic was responsible for the creation of the Sonic Unyon Recording Company. Two of the band’s members co-founded the label to release their music and that of their friends. The first Tristan Psionic (and Sonic Unyon) release was the cassette EP Pslop in 1993, followed later that year by their second EP Quicki.

Most of the songs from these cassettes were reprised for their first CD album. This album is called Feves – that means beans. Yeah, I’m confused too. It’s more commonly known by the title The Sounds of Tristan Psionic because that’s what’s written on the front cover – in a snappy retro font to boot.

The sounds of Tristan Psionic (couldn’t resist) are like a time capsule to 90s college radio. Stephen Malkmus inspired vocals? Check! My Bloody Valentine guitar squalls? You bet! Jangly pop songs primarily concerned with interpersonal relationships with members of the opposite sex? You know it. Their influences firmly on their sleeves, the band still manages to have their own unique vision of college indie rock – they still sound influenced, not like copycats.

With nine songs running by in a brisk 32 minutes, the band wastes no time. Opener “Black Psabbath Psong” has a Pavementy intro before busting into a heavy rocker like you-know-who. It humorously ends with drummer Tim Potocic forgetting to stop using the shaker, so the bands chimes in with one last instrumental hit. The band continues on in this vein for the rest of the LP, with contrasting loud and soft moments and messy guitar breaks.

They save the best for last, “Let It Go” features great harmony vocals with bass and drum heavy verses followed by chorus breaks with punk guitars. “Transmission” is a great heavy tune that shows the prog inclinations that would become more prevalent later in the band’s career. It was a modest beginning – but an important one, not just for one band from Hamilton, but for a whole record label and bands from all over.

This year is the twentieth anniversary of the Hamilton based Sonic Unyon Recording Company. Here at hamiltonONmusic, we recognize a milestone – especially in our own community. Sonic Unyon has grown from a small local label into one of the largest and most renowned independent record labels in the country. Throughout the year we will be featuring a series of articles on the history and legacy of the label. We’ll also be looking at where they are now and where they may be headed in the future. But for now, we’ll start at the beginning: a band called Tristan Psionic. Look out for our three part series on the band and their records. Coming soon!

While this conviction maintains a certain degree of truth value, at least in regards to the increasingly limited realm of major labels, the same cannot be said of the independent sphere. As I hope to demonstrate through the following discussion, moreover dissection of today’s music industry, with three highly successful musician-cum-label owners, art and commerce do not have to be at odds. In fact, in the case of G7 Welcoming Committee Records, the independent label owned and operated by Manitoba-based politically charged punk rockers, Chris Hannah and Jord Samolesk, of Propagandi fame, promoting a subversive anti-capitalist agenda would actually work in one’s favour in terms of getting signed.

As the subject matter of the following discourse primarily revolves around the indie music scene, providing an overview of how each of my interview subjects got started, along with their definitions of what constitutes an indie label seems, to me, an appropriate point at which to begin.

Robert Calder, trumpet player for Vancouver pop band The Salteens, and co-founder of Boompa Records, which includes, Matt Sharp (Weezer), among other notable acts, on its roster, established his label in 2003. Driven by what he characterizes as both ambition and naivety, despite the fact that The Salteens had already successfully acquired label representation for their studio releases, Calder was interested in creating his own company that kept, at its forefront, practises that are sustainable from both a business and artistic point of view. In his own experiences as a professional touring musician, he remembers, all too often, moments, in the heat of business, in which it was forgotten what artists require to be generative.

With this in mind, it’s no surprise, that Calder defines a true indie label as one that is not founded solely on the premise of achieving profits. In fact, he goes so far as to state that if a project is proposed to one of his artists that is highly lucrative, but has the potential to be draining for them, it is this latter factor that will be afforded more weight when it ultimately comes to making the decision. In his own words, “the plight of the struggling artist should be about growth and development, not unmet expectations.”

Though, Tim Potocic, drummer of 90s-inspired Hamilton rock band Tristan Psionic, like Calder, had established a recognizable degree of acclaim within the indie scene, the impetus fuelling the development of his independent label and distributor, Sonic Unyon, was rooted more in necessity than aspiration. Contesting that both he and his bandmates perceived the music biz as a larger entity than it is in actual fact, Potocic, put rather simply, “didn’t really think that [any labels] would be interested in helping [him take his band to the next level].” As a musical group whose mentality very much centred around the D.I.Y. mantra, coupled with the fact that all of Tristan Psionic’s members were schooled in either business, economics, or admin, even though he openly admits that initially they didn’t really know what they were doing, Potocic always had faith that they’d be able to handle whatever came their way; Sonic Unyon’s near-20 year (and counting) stint is certainly a testament that this was true.

Like our next guest, Chris Hannah, Potocic is hesitant to designate a single business model as being definitively “indie”. In his view, what makes Sonic Unyon artist-friendly fundamentally comes down to having a good team, working with like-minded people, and splitting everything (both expenses and profits) 50/50 between his artists and the label. While Potocic strongly believes in giving his performers free reign when it comes to the creative process, he also appreciates the perseverance and drudgery that goes into making a band successful. For that very reason, when it comes to scouting new talent, it’s the acts that demonstrate the strongest work ethics that really grab his attention.

Chris Hannah and Jord Samolesk’s go at the business side of things, frankly, can be chalked up to artistic impulse. While the urge to create, among artists, goes without saying, so too does the appetite for experimentation, and in some cases, the desire for world domination. Identifying with the mid-80s underground zine, metal tape-trading, and punk rock scenes, Chris and Jord were, “encouraged [by and looked up to] the bands who got their hands dirty.” Not only seeing the act of creating their own label as a means through which they could stay productive and engaged in the industry while wearing different hats, but as well as an alternative platform where they could register and promote their complaints about the system, shortly after its launch, G7 became home to a smorgasbord of politically radical bands and speakers. American linguist and political activist, Noam Chomsky, is but one of the controversial figures who releases his material via Hannah and Samolesk’s collective.

While, as mentioned, Hannah does not subscribe to using the term “indie” to denote any organizational scheme within the music industry because, in actuality, “everyone releasing music – in the form of a physical/digital product to the public – is [in some way] dependent upon the infrastructure of the music-industrial-complex,”, he does feel that, “within that framework, organizations can act more or less ‘independently’ if they are not beholden to shareholders and/or if profit is not their prime directive.”

As illustrated by the above responses from all three of my interview subjects, whereas the form the business itself may take remains considerably up for grabs, there seems to be consensus, among indie label founders, that the creation of one’s own label should be conceived of as a labour of love, not a money-making machine. Credence to this fact comes in the form of Potocic’s own struggle for success.

Although Sonic Unyon, today, is cited regularly as one of Canada’s most influential music makers, it wasn’t until Tim was in his seventh fiscal year that he was able to take home his very first paycheck. Calder, similarly, isn’t shy about Boompa’s humble beginnings. Long before he knew they got it right, he recalls numerous failures, poor decisions, hiatuses, and regroupings. But, rather than reflecting on these experiences unfavourably, Calder, like Potocic is able to recognize the wisdom he gained, as a result.

Naturally then, both founders concur that one of the biggest blunders any band can make is to set unrealistic expectations. Contrary to what the media would have you believe, nothing, in this business, happens overnight, and you certainly cannot expect to attain any sense of glory, without first being willing to display your guts. Accordingly, all three of my guests highly recommended that bands maintain other ventures, while pursuing their musical careers. For one thing, cash flow will likely become an issue if you are solely relying on your gigs to front your bills, and secondly, having other goals in life makes you well-rounded. Speaking from his own experiences, Potocic resolves that, “if you have many skills [in life], then you will always land on your feet.”

When it comes to illegal downloading, Calder, Potocic, and Hannah’s views are somewhat more lax than what one might assume of label owners. In Calder’s eyes, “a fan is a fan no matter how they get their music,” and Hannah is quick to point out that for every one person who illegally obtains your tunes, undoubtedly there are five others who get to hear something they would not have otherwise. Moreover, while Potocic accepts the fact that illegal downloading has affected everyone’s business on some level, he strongly contests that, it alone, cannot be blamed for the awful state of the music biz. Rather, he suggests, “people still love music and people still support artists. The traditional model [just] doesn’t apply anymore. We are in the middle of more than just a format change – but a change in thinking of the consumer and a shift in consumer spending.” Taking it a step further, Hannah, like myself, cites the industry’s downfall in its foisting of terrible records, upon the public, for far too long: “if labels would stop trying to make money by pawning off garbage, maybe people wouldn’t be so quick to think that [music] didn’t hold any value.”

Despite his attribution of blame however, Hannah remains hopeful. While he agrees illegal downloading, “is not good for [big] businesses that have invested all of their money [into] shiny plastic discs,” he does believe, in all sincerity, that, “it could be good for music.” To this Calder adds that, “true fans support artists in many ways,” and he truly hopes that, “the whole concept of signing bands and throwing crap loads of money at them, to see if they [can] sell a ton of assets in the first week of release, goes the way of the dodo bird.” As made evident through the above discussion, whether or not the corporate structure fails is irrelevant – most indie artists, let alone indie labels, do not align themselves with the traditional music biz’s point of view.

As our three week long examination of what it takes to start your own label comes to a close, I’d like to share with you one final offering of advice. As I’ve attempted to impress on you in this piece, as in others, carving out a career for oneself in the music biz, whether as an artist or label owner, is not for the faint of heart, and it is for this reason that a love of art must supersede all other potential motivating rationales. To leave you with a quote that I feel aptly summarizes the indie label owner’s point of view, in the words of Hannah: “if you believe in the transformative potential of music, [I encourage you to] go for it, [but] if you’re looking for anything else, just take the job at your dad’s business that he’s been offering you. Please.”