When The Dudes came together in a Canadian high school, none of them envisioned a future in which they would be on the receiving end of critical praise throughout their own country, let alone the UK.

“We never really imagined anyone would really give a shit,” says frontman Dan Vacon.

“Anything good that’s happened has been a real bonus for us. We’re super pleased that it’s gonna get a shot over in Europe. Otherwise we’re just making an album for ourselves.”

The band’s lo-fi beginnings in a run-down house in one of Calgary’s less desirable districts suggested nothing of the sleek rock n’ roll beast the band would become. With the world’s ears trained towards their homeland and the output from Montreal and Toronto in particular, The Dudes have crept up on the outside and shown that there is indeed a place in the world for short, sharp catchy rock songs.
The record that has landed them on the scene, Brain Heart Guitar, was in fact recorded two years ago and was off the radar until new British label One-Four-Seven Records made them their first signing.

Vacon is a straight talking Dude. His summation of the band’s mission is as succinct as their music.

“I think we make good music that people wanna hear. The universe likes rock n’ roll. We’re gonna keep making it and hopefully people will keep wanting to hear it. Every album we make is better than the one before. This next one we’re working on is already sounding ridiculously good.”

Indeed, as The Dudes are about to unleash Brain, Heart, Guitar on the UK, they are also in the process of finishing their follow-up, due for release early next year. For Brain, Heart, Guitar, The Dudes were awarded funding from the Canadian government and holed up in a state-of-the-art studio out in the wilderness. “We did it out in a mountainous region of Canada,” says Vacon, “it was halfway up a mountain and covered in trees and snow in the dead of winter. It was government supported so we put an application in. They set us up in this kick ass studio in the middle of nowhere. It was a really good time.”

When it’s suggested to Vacon that The Dudes are in the enviable position of being government approved, he laughs. “Yeah man, we’re really tight with the mayor.”

The result of those sessions was a lot slicker than anything the band had attempted before. “Mostly our recordings were done in this dilapidated house in a really run down neighbourhood in Calgary,” says Vacon. “The rent was super cheap so we all lived in the house. We bought a second-hand eight-track recorder and that’s what we did our first couple of recordings on. Then we hooked up with the label and they were like ‘man, we really gotta get you into a proper studio’.

“When we released our first couple of discs, we had no idea what we were doing. We were real slow learners. We would have sounded ridiculous if we’d gone into a studio back then. We didn’t have the skills. But I still like a lot of those old records. They have a charm. More often than not you could hear some guy walking in on the recording. ‘Hey man, is Dave here?’ If you’ve got good ears you can hear all kinds of shit.”

The conundrum facing bands with a distinctly lo-fi past is what happens when you finally up the production values.

Whether lo-fi roots are by choice or necessity, cleaning up the sound is bound to be greeted by cries of ‘sell out’ from the more militant factions of the fan club. Just ask The Mountain Goats, Guided By Voices or Modest Mouse. Even the mighty Replacements, a band to whom The Dudes have been compared. “I don’t see it personally,” says Vacon, “I don’t see us as the next Replacements. Some guy said it in a review and people just ran with it. I think most of the time, with comparisons, people are relating a feeling. Like: ‘Oh this is how that band made me feel.’”

Still, Vacon sees the move away from the eight-track as a positive development. “I have no regrets giving it that more polished sound,” he says, “yeah, we lost a lot of our super cool fans when we lost the lo-fi sound but back then we were just joking around. We never really imagined any success back in the old days or that anyone would ever give a shit. We were just doing it for ourselves.”

Brain, Heart, Guitar is as fitting an album title as The Dudes could have come up with. The band’s music is a marriage of loud guitars, played with unfettered passion and heart, and smart lyrics. One typically Dudes-esque lyric opens the album’s highlight ‘Do The Right Thing’: “My bedroom’s worse than the Catholic church, I let anyone in.”

Yes, that is the sound of a lapsed Catholic.

“I grew up Catholic,” says Vacon, “I was taught by priests and I was an altar boy for a while. I had the full Catholic upbringing. It makes you think about things. Once it starts to sound even more hokey and ridiculous, you’re already immersed into it and you’re forced to ask questions. I think it’s really helped me to grow up anti-Catholic. You do a couple of funerals and a couple of Easter ceremonies and you start to realise that it’s ridiculous. Someone who is brought up in a proper school, they wouldn’t have had religion forced down their throats so when they start to ask questions about their lives, they’re more likely to turn to religion, just because they haven’t seen how ridiculous it is. I’ll probably raise my kids Catholic. Some of what they teach you is a pretty good lesson for kids to learn, the morals and all that. It’s like Sesame Street.”

October sees The Dudes return to the UK to play some of their own shows as well as a few support slots with fellow Cannuck rockers, Ladyhawk. The last time they visited, Dan and the band fell in love with Brixton’s best kept secret, The Windmill. “Man, I love the Windmill,” says Vacon, “it might have been my favourite show from the last trip. It’s a cool little neighbourhood. They gave us this hilarious buffet. Then Seamus, the guy who runs the place, bought us a round. Paul, our tour manager, was shocked because Seamus never buys a round. We were honoured.”

As for the future, The Dudes have the follow-up to Brain, Heart, Guitar and a slightly less conventional plan.

“Funny enough,” says Vacon, “we entered a battle of the bands. Don’t judge me yet! It is the lowest form of rock ‘n’ roll but we went and we won the first round. For winning the first round, we got 25,000 Canadian dollars. The night before we leave for the UK, we play the finals for $200,000.

I’m hearing all these numbers and I’m like ‘are you serious?’” With rewards like that, a temporary relaxing of principles can be forgiven. After all, it’s not like it’s a MacDonalds ad.

Wish them luck. The Dudes abide.