"We started rehearsing and had to go back and watch old YouTube clips and ask ourselves, 'How do we do that again?'" drummer Doug MacGregor says. âOur time together so far has been pretty limited.â
It wasn't always that way. Throughout the aughts, the Constantines were known as one of the most fiery, intense and hardworking bands in indie rock. They didn't sell many records, but their influence was wide—the group was likened to Bruce Springsteen long before most bands started citing Born to Run as an inspiration. And though the Fugazi-Springsteen hybrid label is accurate, the band also has some of the nervous, twitchy energy that made Pixies and early Spoon albums so vital. Recapturing that spark doesn't always come easily—especially after you've already spent a decade stuck in the same gear.
"When a band starts, you are constantly writing, recording demos and playing shows, but eventually, by necessity, it becomes a cycle," MacGregor says. "You're always writing then recording then touring. Back in 2009, the idea of doing another one looked daunting. We didn't want to make our Cut the Crap.â
MacGregor and singer-guitarist Bryan Webb formed the Constantines in 1999 following the dissolution of their hardcore-leaning teenage band Shoulder. Along with vocalist-guitarist Steve Lambke and bassist Dallas Wehrle (keyboard player Will Kidman joined after the release of Shine a Light), their only concern was pleasing a handful of drunken friends whenever they played a local dive or basement in Guelph, Ontario.
The band's raw, self-titled debut feels like it could fall apart any moment. Recorded for next to nothing, it sounds like a basement record in the best way possible, with the mics up next to the instruments as the band bashes out a set of spiky, throaty songs combining the best aspects of '80s and '90s indie rock. Rarely does a music writer get to use the word âanthemicâ and have it apply so perfectly.
The Constantines' best songs are both hard-charging and relatively straightforward. While the instruments might sound prim and proper, Webb is anything but, going from restrained to furious on Tournament of Hearts' "Hotline Operator" or screaming his lungs out shouting "Can I get a witness?" on early highlight "Young Offenders." The band never lacked intensity. Whether counting down a fiery barnburner like "Seven A.M." or a slow-boiling ballad like "Goodbye Baby and Amen," the Constantines played every song like it was their last one.
"In a lot of ways, the 11 years that we were active as a band was a suspended adolescence," Webb wrote on the band's website in February. "At our best, we consecrated youth in the true rock-and-roll spirit. Wild, ecstatic moments, pure physical and spiritual energy, free of any past or future.â
Webb's poetic lyrics and the band's impassioned jams hinted at something deeper, and when Shine a Light came out on Sub Pop, it seemed like a natural breakthrough. Yet the Constantines started off fast and wild and then mellowed on each succeeding record, slowly burning out, moving to different towns and eventually going on âindefinite hiatusâ after touring behind 2009âs Kensington Heights.
At this point, MacGregor says the band isn't sure if it will continue after this run of fall dates. But he also expresses surprise at how much people care: The gigs this summer were jam-packed, and Arcade Fire, which opened for the Constantines back in 2004, covered "Young Lions" at a sold-out Toronto show in March. Not that any sort of popular opinion will sway them either way.
"We always joked that our first demo was a little six-song cassette, and by the time we stopped playing, a lot of local bands were making cassettes again," MacGregor says. "When a format comes back in vogue, that's when you know you should take a break. Cassettes again? Nah, Iâm outta here.â
SEE IT: The Constantines play Dante's, 350 W Burnside St., with Woolen Men and Summer Cannibals, as part of Project Pabst, on Friday, Sept. 26. 9 pm. $15. 21+. See projectpabst.com for complete schedule.
Top Five PBR Drink Specials For Project Pabst

A Pabst served with five minutes of the bartenderâs time to hear your best sob story.
A Pabst served with an expired condom.
A Pabst served with a karate chop to ya neck. (Youâll get a discount if said neck is well-protected.)
The Rocket From the Crypt
A Pabst tall boy duct-taped to a Roman candle.
GO: Side Street Tavern is at 828 SE 34th Ave. While the above drinks do not actually exist, several other PBR-inspired combinations are available on Side Streetâs Pabst Menu.
WWeek 2015