The Covid-19 pandemic has thrown workers of all kinds into long-term illness, poverty, homelessness and death, and musicians are among them. Unionisation efforts have hit back, including the Union of Musicians and Allied Workers; anti-capitalist and pro-worker commentary from musicians on social media – spurred at least in part by the hilarious, acidic Twitter rants of Eve 6 frontman Max Collins – has brought new language to exploited artists who are struggling to maintain integrity while record labels and streaming companies leech the profits of their labour.
Pondering these tensions while stuck at home, unable to tour, were the noisy, beloved Toronto punk band Pup (an abbreviation of pathetic use of potential). “For two years, we’ve been a glorified webstore and that’s it,” says lead singer Stefan Babcock. “I was writing about us navigating this weird spot we’re at in our careers, where art and commerce are at direct loggerheads with each other.” The band had grown further than any of its members anticipated. Another group in their position may glad-hand their way to bigger gigs and cheques, but Pup decided to make a record that chomps down on the hand that feeds.
