In With the New: Concrete Vehicles shred the evidence

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At the back of Main Street’s Red Gate, about half an hour before his band is scheduled to take the stage, Ben Lock seems completely unfazed. The musician, tall, skinny, and clad in a white t-shirt and jeans, talks eloquently and in detail about his craft. Then he takes the stage, and another, completely different side of himself appears.

A few months ago, things were going about as well as they possibly could be going for Lock and his scrappy DIY band, Computer. The six-piece postpunk noise rock outfit, which formed out of a recording project from Lock and childhood friend, audio engineer, and producer Hudson Schelesny, was making a real, palpable dent in Vancouver’s indie scene.

On the back of its intense live shows, which mash up everything from early New York no wave to punk-jacked jazz, the group was developing a strong following on social media and was starting to be seen at bigger venues around town as well as larger festivals.

Computer also got signed to Canadian/American record label Dine Alone Records, which boasts names on its roster like BRONCHO, Jimmy Eat World, and NOBRO.

Shortly after that milestone, last fall, the band released its much-loved debut, Station on the Hill, which includes breakout songs like the sporadic, up-and-down, sax-heavy “Dissolution Use” and the percussive, shouty “Now In A Vacuum”.

Behind the rapid success, though, concerns grew. In a world that is so SEO-centric and based on branding, the members of Computer knew that their days under that moniker were numbered. The band was on the verge of losing its name.

Another band called Computer, based in New York, was also gaining steam and had started releasing music around the same time as Lock and crew. In March, Lock’s Computer posted to its Instagram account a cease and desist letter, with the sender’s name and information blacked out.

“It was something that we were kind of aware of that would potentially happen down the line,” says Lock. “We hadn’t really thought of names until we had a legal reason to change the name. But you know what, it felt like a good time to have a name that could just be ours, and it’s kind of like there’s a meaning behind it to us, and it kind of fits in our world.”

That name would be Concrete Vehicles—also the name of one of the songs off Station on the Hill.

“We kind of saw it as a chance to move forward with something else, even though it was a bummer and was stressful and we knew we’d have to deal with some challenges that would come with that,” Lock says.

Those challenges included dealing with the fallout of lost algorithms and followers on platforms like Instagram and Spotify. But the band, which includes sax player Jackson Bell, keyboardist Kenan Gray, bassist Jacob Pepin, and drummer Ricky Sanderson, is ready to move on from that.

“It’s not really important to us now; I think the most important thing is just growing our live shows and working on new music,” Lock says. “We’re a pretty new band. There’s never a right time to do this, but it’s a good thing to do now while we’re still figuring out everything.

There’s some confusion with fans and stuff, but I think that will go away.”

That new music is vital to continuing Concrete Vehicles’ ascension. Most of the songs on Station on the Hill were written by Lock and Schelesny (who doesn’t usually perform on stage and has produced many other Vancouver indie bands’ records), but the rest of the group has been a lot more involved in charting the path for Concrete Vehicles.

“We kind of hang out in a room, and if someone has an idea, we’ll mess around with that,” Pepin offers. “And then it usually turns into something. No matter where we are, we’re just kind of jamming. And it’s been really good. We compare it to that episode of The Simpsons, where Homer becomes a food critic and he’s just saying everything is good. Sometimes you’re like, ‘Holy shit, is everything good?’ ”

When it was still known as Computer, the band played a few festivals in Europe last year, including the Netherlands’ Left of the Dial, showcasing its sound in front of major crowds.

“Those shows were just unreal,” Gray says. “Like wildest dreams type shows, people packed in a room. It was crazy.”

That momentum has continued. Concrete Vehicles opened for Canadian hardcore deconstructionists Fucked Up in March and are scheduled to go on tour later this year, including opening for Alexisonfire at the RBC Amphitheatre in Toronto. In the meantime, the band will be working on releasing new music.

“We’re really trying to focus on the quality of the material and just not trying to rush much and use a lot of the touring to develop ideas,” says Lock. “We played the songs off the first album so much and experimented live so that the songs got really informed by how we played together under the pressure of a live performance. That pressure cooker of a situation will probably just make the songs better.”

Minutes after our interview, Lock and his bandmates take the stage, and he grabs the mic.

“Come up to the front,” he tells the crowd.

They oblige. Lock sheds any comparisons to Michael Cera we had secretly made in our heads as he becomes completely possessed, screaming into the microphone and moving his body around the stage like a maniac as the crowd in front of him mosh like their lives depend on it.

As Concrete Vehicles ventures out to some of the biggest stages it has ever seen this year, it’s time to lay the foundation for a legacy.

I’m Your Fan: Tyler Bancroft (Said the Whale)

“A while ago I saw Ben Lock play guitar in a different band, and I became sort of obsessed with him. Then he started Concrete Vehicles, and I think they are the best band I’ve ever seen in the city. I’ve seen them a few times—the last time was at Green Auto, just before they released their album. I remember standing at the back of the room being like, ‘Yes, the kids are all right!’ It was electric. I could feel the energy in the room. It felt like I was seeing something so special.

“I know that this world doesn’t have a lot of room for weird, math-y rock bands to have a huge, successful career that can float them through all their years, but I pray that they can make it work. They’re so talented and such fucking weirdos.”