It’s always a thrill to sit down with a musician whose work has not only shaped a sound but has also woven itself into the fabric of your own musical journey. When it comes to Big Wreck, that feeling is amplified tenfold. The Canadian rock outfit, led by the inimitable Ian Thornley, has consistently delivered anthemic riffs, deep lyrical storytelling, and a distinctive blend of grunge, blues, and hard rock that has captivated fans for the better part of three decades.
With their latest album The Rest of the Story, Thornley and the band are poised to take listeners even deeper into their creative evolution. The companion to their 2023 EP Pages, promises to bring new layers of sonic exploration and emotional depth, while staying true to the raw energy that made Big Wreck a household name.
I sat down with Ian to talk about the new album, how it ties into the band’s journey, and the inspirations that guided the creation of The Rest of the Story.
Speaking about the recording sessions for “Pages” and “The Rest of the Story”, Thornley explains, “They were all recorded at the same time. They were going to be part of the same series of EPs. We were going to do Pages One, Pages Two, and Pages Three, and then decided after Pages one, well, why don’t we just compile the rest into one full-length?
Respected Nashville producer Nick Raskulinecz and Grammy and Juno award-winning producer/engineer Eric Ratz helmed the project along with Thornley himself, who is a workhorse and loves diving into the process when it comes to recording albums.
About his collaboration with Raskulinacz and Ratz, Thornly explains, “Nick was the executive producer. He’s been involved in a bunch of the stuff that we’ve done to one degree or another. I worked with him on Tiny Pictures when it was essentially just him and me in the studio making the lion’s share of that record. Of course, we stayed in touch and became good friends.”
“I think when we went in to do Albatross, we were still called Thornley at the time. It may have been Nick or Eric Ratz who said, “What if we called it a Big Wreck album?” Nick was there for the preproduction of that and then went back down to Nashville and was doing something else.”
“But we sent him stems of what we’d done that week, and he’d have suggestions for us based on that, which is different than when you’re in the studio with somebody every day. He was a lot more hands-on with this one. He was there for some preproduction, and then certainly while we cut the bass and drums. I was in touch with him while I was doing the guitars and the vocals, and there was a lot of back and forth.”
“He’s a great foil for me, a great sounding board, so to speak. Sometimes he’ll come up with an off-the-wall idea that I can tell immediately that’s what I’ve been missing. He’s extremely talented in his own right, and a great guy to work with, as is Eric Ratz. Eric mixed this record. He was busy with another band while we were cutting. When we’re able to line everybody up and get the dream team, that’s what we aim for.
The Rest of the Story delivers exactly what fans have come to expect, blending soaring melodies, intricate time changes, and the kind of rich, layered sound that defines the band’s best work. Ian Thornley once again proves why he’s one of rock’s most dynamic frontmen, with his incredible guitar riffs and unmistakable vocal power taking center stage. Tracks like the anthemic “Staff Party” with its soaring vocals and complex arrangement and “Holy Roller” with its obvious nod to 80s hair metal are standout compositions on an album that reaffirms the band’s place at the forefront of modern rock.
About the opening song “Staff Party”, Thornley explains, “Lyrically, it’s about celebrity. It’s written about a specific person that I’ve just sort of seen from afar. I’ve just watched them deteriorate into something insane, and I’m not even sure if it’s their own doing. I’m outside of all that stuff. Just sort of as an observer watching somebody get twisted up it seems by success and fame and all that shit. It’s sort of my take on that”
Regarding the song “Holy Roller”, Thornley says, “I was asked by a guitar magazine, ‘Oh, you must have grown up listening to Van Halen?” I didn’t grow up listening to any of that stuff. I started to get into Van Halen in my late teens as a sort of casual fan, not as “I’m going to try to dissect what Eddie’s doing”, because I was so far off from that as a guitar player at the time.”
I was a fingerstyle acoustic guy. I was aiming more in the folk genre. Bruce Coburn was my hero at the time. They’re just different takes on music. I wouldn’t say one’s better than the other or one’s more difficult than the other.
“I think all of it is ripe for the picking. As somebody who playing guitar is all I do all day, if I’m not writing or recording or searching with a guitar, then I’m just practicing. But having said that, I just thought it would be interesting if we took us and did something like that with them.”
“It was a little tongue in cheek, you know, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having fun when you’re playing rock and roll. You know? It doesn’t always have to be so fucking serious. You can sometimes just have a go and have fun with it, which is what that one is.”
When asked about his process for writing songs, Thornley describes it as something that generally comes from his guitar playing, and Thornley is seldom without a guitar in hand. Any great guitarist I have spoken with is the same. Their guitar is almost an extension of their physical being, never far out of reach.
“Generally speaking, it’s a guitar idea. Sometimes it’s an idea that’s not even a musical one, but what if I tried doing this over that? And then I’ll grab a guitar and try it, and maybe something completely different pops out, and that sends my ear down a different path. But, generally, it’s something that tweaks my interest on the guitar, and I sort of follow it and see what kind of story it tells.
I wondered with Thornley’s propensity for composing, how much do the other band members contribute to the recording of an album? It would be very easy for him to just write and record albums as a solo artist with his diverse talent, but as Ian explained, there is still a process that includes the rest of the band.
“Well, it depends. Some of them are left a little more open to interpretation, and that’s usually by design. But For the Sun was an album that we did very sparse demos for by design, so that we could go in and have that feel and that approach. Just have the basic song form ready and then go in and bash it up. Generally speaking, I think I have the songs pretty mapped out before the guys get them.”
“There are always suggestions coming back. Like, “What if you tried going halftime in this? If it’s not from Nick or from Ratzy, it’ll come from one of the guys. Nine times out of 10, I’m like, yeah. I tried that already, but sometimes it’s a trick that I haven’t thought of, and I welcome more ideas. The most exciting time in the studio is when somebody says, “What if?”, and it doesn’t necessarily have to come from me. I just care that the result that you’re hearing through the speakers is as good as it can be.”
Talking about musical influence, I was quite surprised by some of the artists on his musical path.
“My mom got into Abba at one point, and I think it was my brother and I who got her into them. But she was a big Supertramp fan, and my dad was a big Bruce Springsteen fan. Those were their big favorites, but they both loved Neil Young and Crosby, Stills, and Nash, and Joni Mitchell, and Bruce Cockburn. I think what made the ones that stick out to me special is these bands who could play anything and go in any direction, and there was always a sense of melody, and a drama in that, and there’s a sense of something overarching that has to be the sort of focal point.”
“They had a massive record collection, and there was one Zeppelin album, Zeppelin III. I often credit that record with getting me into electric guitars and distorted stuff. Once I got into Zeppelin, I don’t think I ever looked back. They were huge for me for a long time and made me look at things very differently. All that stuff was food. The Beatles were another one of those, and my childhood was no exception. But all music is good music if it’s at the right time for the right reason.”
“There’s some music now that I think is just terrible. It’s not even music, it’s just product. That’s heartbreaking to me because people don’t have the time or the wherewithal to actually dig back and find the great stuff where people put their blood, sweat, and tears into a project. It’s just sort of dead.”
“A good friend of mine was telling me recently that in this sort of Nashville system, an artist will have all the songs written for them from all these great, talented songwriters. The best in the biz, just go to Nashville because they can churn this shit out. Just like come up with a good top line, and here you go. And then they just go make a bunch of money with it.”
“And that’s pretty common. But it’s gotten to the point now where it used to be you’d hire a songwriter, and they’d hire this band. In Nashville, everybody’s an ace anyway, so they’d all go into the studio and cut the tune. Then you’d get some demo singer to come in and sing the tune, and here’s what the melody is, and here’s how the rhythm goes, just to give the artist an idea of what it would sound like.”
“Nowadays, they send it to some guy who will take that artist’s voice and put it over the melody and say, Here’s what you’ll sound like singing this song. And a lot of artists are like, well, I don’t want to hear it unless my voice is on it already. And they didn’t sing it. They’ve never heard it before, but suddenly, it’s their AI voice over this new song that they could potentially do or not.”
“The whole thing to me is just kind of creepy. You’re missing a lot of goodies when you take that route, but it’s been headed that way for the last however many years. Everything is so formulaic, so if something comes along that’s just a little bit outside the box and it hits, people are so starved for something fucking authentic they go crazy for it. And five minutes later, there’s another one. You know? The music business is a business, I get it, and that’s ok.”
Everybody wants a hit. Nobody really knows what’s going to hit or why. But, you know, the suits have got scientists working on it, and they’re going to crack that code any day if they haven’t already. It has nothing to do with fucking music. I can tell you that much.
I’m happy that we get to keep doing our thing. I still get a thrill anytime I find out that we’re allowed to go back in the studio and make a record. But that to me is a thrill. So, yeah, I’m good.
Ironically, Big Wreck was never as popular in the US as it is in Canada, despite being three-quarters formed by American musicians. Today, the band members are fully Canadian, with the only original member being Thornley. Founding bassist Henning and Drummer Williams left when the band first disbanded back in 2003. Brian Doherty succumbed to lung cancer in 2019.
“I miss Brian every day, you know, and I think he would love what we’re doing now. But other than that, I think musically and personally, it’s never been as precise and functional as it is now. These guys are all monsters in their own right, but when everybody’s got their eye on the same ball, it makes for quite a scary thing. I feel like we’re one of the best out there when we’re all on it.”
“There are always factors in any show. Your in-ears can go out or something can happen, but I think going on stage with a clean slate every night is a great thing. When you’re in your early twenties, you can get into some sort of bickering match with somebody before you hit the stage. Usually, all that shit goes away when you’re performing for people. But when you’ve been doing that for eighteen months straight, all of a sudden, the cracks start to show, and you’re just a kid, so you have no idea how to communicate with somebody and clear the air kind of thing.”
“Now it’s just right, it’s a well-oiled machine, and sometimes we’re lucky enough to get Paulo (Neta) back with us too, and we can do those five-piece shows again. Those are always a thrill as well. When Chris is double-booked, Paulo will fill in on stage. And then sometimes we’ll have a show coming up, and Paulo will say, Hey, can I come down for that one? And I say, Sure, dude!
There are always road stories in any rock band, and Big Wreck is no exception. One of those stories involved an unnamed radio station in Windsor, Ontario.
“I can’t even remember what venue it was, but we were playing in Detroit and we were in the opening slot, so we had, like, half an hour or forty minutes or whatever. The label rep had flown up from New York, and we were going to do a bunch of press, show day. She says, Let’s go do a radio thing.
I’m like, okay. Cool, and we hop in the car and start heading towards the border. I said, “Where are we going?” She said, “Oh, it’s in Windsor.” I’m like, “You know I have to cross the border?” They said, “Whatever. It’s Canada, US, it’s not a big deal.” I know it’s not a big deal, but you never know what kind of heat you’re going to run into.”
“Long story short, we went and did the radio thing, and it was fine. We turned around and came back. and as soon as we were on our way back down, we hit traffic. We were a few miles up, and I’m looking at the time, and I said, “We’re going to miss our set”.
“So, she’s jumping on her cell and calling the label back in New York, saying, What are we going to do? At one point, a helicopter was spoken about. I don’t even know how that would happen. Is there a helipad near here?
So, anyway, she felt terrible. She was very quiet for the drive back. But we made it back, and I think we played two or three songs. I do remember it was actually fun because I didn’t think I was going to make it, and we just sort of pulled in, and I ran out of the car and grabbed the guitar, jumped in, and then we we’re in front of 15,000 people. It was great.
Big Wreck will be touring across Canada with the band Live beginning February 23 in Abbotsford B.C. for 14 dates finishing in Halifax Nova Scotia March 14.
