Latest news with #TryHard
CBC
10-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CBC
Arkells frontman takes no shame in being a ‘try-hard'
For Arkells frontman Max Kerman, there's no secret to the band's success — they just worked hard. Kerman spoke with The National's Ian Hanomansing about the importance of playing small venues, connecting with fans and why his book is called Try Hard.
CBC
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CBC
'Any old fool can do it': Max Kerman is pulling back the curtain on the music industry
Arkells frontman Max Kerman thinks that people make the music industry seem more complicated and out of reach than it actually is. That's why he's just published his first book, Try Hard: Creative Work in Progress, which is a compilation of his best advice on how to survive and thrive as a musician. He hopes it'll help dispel the common myths and misconceptions about what it takes to do what he does. "People ask me in just daily conversations … 'How did you start writing songs in the first place?'" Kerman says in an interview with Q 's Tom Power. "They think there's this mystical thing that happens because, you know, that's what people think of artists in some cases. But when I pull back the curtain, people immediately go, 'Oh, OK.' And I really love this idea that any old fool can do it." Since forming in 2006, the band has released platinum-selling singles and albums. They've also picked up multiple Junos — in fact, they hold the record for the most wins in the group of the year category. But Kerman says their success is more about tenacity than pure talent. He thinks being a "try hard" can be creatively rewarding. "I don't think Arkells are better songwriters than some of our peers that aren't in bands anymore," Kerman says. "I don't think we're better performers. I really don't. I think we've just found a way to keep the energy alive. "I can imagine there's a lot of bands out there that have so many good songs that are on their phone.… But the challenge of going, 'OK, how are we going to pay for this? Do I really want to get together with the guys? OK, even when we do record it, we're going to have to make some stupid TikToks.' … I think there's so many reasons to slow down." Kerman doesn't want to be negative or lose motivation. He just wants to learn more and move forward. That's why he decided to write Try Hard as a guide, not a memoir — a format that he says often features "a lot of complaining." "That's not interesting to me," Kerman says. "What's interesting to me is like, oh, what can I take from those experiences? How could I do better next time? How can I be a better listener? How can keep momentum alive within the band? So, I wanted to write a book that was reflecting on just things I picked up along the way, like little lessons."
Winnipeg Free Press
25-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Winnipeg Free Press
Max effort
Every day before getting to work, Max Kerman sits down with a cup of coffee and a physical newspaper, goes for a morning 'thinking walk' and then dives into the tasks at hand. Kerman's job doesn't involve a cubicle, punching a time card or working on a factory floor, but it's work all the same: managing the business and creative components of a multi-platinum rock band. For the better part of two decades, the 38-year-old Kerman has fronted Arkells, a road warrior Hamilton quintet that has risen from playing small clubs to belting out hits such as Knocking at the Door, Leather Jacket and Years in the Making in arenas thanks to a bit of luck and a whole lot of hard work from the charismatic singer and his bandmates. Nathan Nash photo Max Kerman, lead singer of The Arkells. In his new (and first) book Try Hard: Creative Work in Progress, published by Viking on April 22, Kerman chronicles the band's trajectory, his creative process and some of the highlights of his work with Arkells. Kerman launches Try Hard in Winnipeg tonight at McNally Robinson Booksellers' Grant Park at 6 p.m., signing copies of the book. Arkells manager Ash Poitevin was pivotal in getting Kerman to write the book, which he hopes answers questions he hears frequently from fans. 'The book is meant to be a conversation that I've had many times with people wondering what I do all day,' Kerman says from his Toronto home prior to the book tour. 'That's what I hope people feel like when they're reading — like, 'Oh, this is just an opportunity to ask a guy in a band questions about how things get done.'' For Kerman, explaining his creative process and the business of the band proved easier than parsing out the themes of a song or album. 'I think in music culture and music writing, there's this tendency to want to look at the narrative around a record, but sometimes I find that harder to talk about — you just want the music to speak for itself. This kind of book, which is about process, it's very easy to talk about because it's really just a matter of pulling back the curtain and talking about exactly what you do,' he says. Over four months, Kerman managed to write his book between his work with Arkells — which, in addition to the songwriting, involves quarterbacking the band's social media and other day-to-day tasks. 'I really enjoyed the process of writing. I didn't know if I would. I went in with some hesitation — like, let's see if I like the first 1,500 words. If it felt like a real chore, I probably would have stopped. But then I fell into this routine that I fell in love with. You're trying to do the thing that you do in any creative pursuit: what feels honest, what feels true, what feels like the best version of myself?' he says. Inspiration for Try Hard came to Kerman through the work of other artists who have written about the process — including David Byrne in How Music Works and Rick Rubin in The Creative Act — as well as long-form writing in magazines such as the New Yorker, which he's read since he was a kid. But if his book has one kindred spirit, it's perhaps prolific horror writer Stephen King's how-to, On Writing. 'I think we have this tendency to make the arts into this mystical thing, when really it's just sometimes about getting into 2,000 words in a day and then doing that the next day and the next day — and if you do that for a few months, you have a book. (King) talks about it in this very matter-of-fact, everyday worker kind of way, which I really identify with,' Kerman says. Once the ball is rolling, says Kerman in Try Hard, the key is to keep it going. 'One of the underlying themes is how important this creative momentum is, and finding ways to keep that momentum up. And I don't mean just like going a mile a minute — I mean feeling good about the work,' he explains. 'If you feel good about the work and the people you're working with, and there's that sort of beautiful, generous give and take, you just do more because you don't even realize you're working. The second you start thinking, 'Do I want to call this guy? Maybe I'll put it off till tomorrow,' that's when things begin to grind to a halt.' Kerman still finds great joy in working with his bandmates on all things Arkells, in part because each has been able to focus on the parts of being in a band that they enjoy. 'Nothing about what I do is inherently enjoyable — there's lots of people in bands that hate it, lots of people who hate the idea of marketing, who hate dealing with the money. Nothing about a creative life is promised to be fun — but I really am trying to make it fun,' he says. Kerman hopes readers can find some sort of creative spark in Try Hard, whether or not they have aspirations of fronting a band. Nathan Denette / The Canadian Press The Arkells perform during the Juno Awards in Toronto in 2022. During Elections Get campaign news, insight, analysis and commentary delivered to your inbox during Canada's 2025 election. 'Even if they don't see themselves in me, they might see themselves in somebody in my orbit who's very, incredibly valuable. They might see themselves as a guitarist, they might see themselves as a business manager,' he says. And while it's his name on the book, Kerman says Try Hard, like being in Arkells, was very much a team effort. 'Sometimes I wonder if people look at me and go, 'Oh, there's like, a lot of energy there' or 'This guy's too bold' or something,' he says, laughing. 'But there are so many other people I rely on that happen to be interested in another part of the operation, which I could never do. Everything I do is a group effort.' Ben SigurdsonLiterary editor, drinks writer Ben Sigurdson is the Free Press's literary editor and drinks writer. He graduated with a master of arts degree in English from the University of Manitoba in 2005, the same year he began writing Uncorked, the weekly Free Press drinks column. He joined the Free Press full time in 2013 as a copy editor before being appointed literary editor in 2014. Read more about Ben. In addition to providing opinions and analysis on wine and drinks, Ben oversees a team of freelance book reviewers and produces content for the arts and life section, all of which is reviewed by the Free Press's editing team before being posted online or published in print. It's part of the Free Press's tradition, since 1872, of producing reliable independent journalism. Read more about Free Press's history and mandate, and learn how our newsroom operates. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
Globe and Mail
18-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Globe and Mail
A walk with Arkells front man Max Kerman, who wants you to find your creative inspiration
Try Hard has the contours of a music memoir only in the sense that Kerman employs personal examples to show how he managed to make a career making songs Josh O'Kane The Globe and Mail Arkells front man Max Kerman's new memoir, Try Hard, will be released April 22 Laura Proctor/The Globe and Mail to view this content.
CBC
12-03-2025
- Entertainment
- CBC
Arkells frontman Max Kerman wants you to know that enthusiasm goes a long way
Social Sharing When most people need something to do, they turn on a TV show. Arkells frontman Max Kerman, on the other hand, decides to write a book. "I was looking for something new to sink my teeth into, where I would be challenged, learn a lot, and most of all, enjoy it," he told CBC Books in an email. His debut, Try Hard, is a look into the day-to-day of a musician from a touring band and answers your burning questions about what goes into making a song, preparing for a show and marketing a band. Part memoir, part self-help book, it breaks down the creative process — and reveals that trying hard is often the secret to success. "I hope this comes through in the writing, but enthusiasm — plain old enthusiasm — really goes a long way. Such an obvious point, but anyone who gets anything done is simply enthusiastic about the work," he said. "If you can earnestly participate in some pursuit, for no other reason than understanding that the act of participating is the gift itself, then good things usually come. Unexpected things. So, I hope the book can be a nudge to anyone who needs one. None of it is rocket science, it's just 'one foot in front of the other' stuff." Try Hard will be out on April 22, 2025. You can read an excerpt below. VINCE_KERMAN In grade 7, Ms. Janes assigned the class a research project. Each student was asked to interview someone in the community that had a job we might want one day and then write about what we learned. Most of my classmates reached out to their parents' friends — dental hygienists or mechanics — while others went over to the local fire station and spoke to a firefighter. Those approaches didn't feel particularly interesting to me. It was 1999, and I had a singular focus in my life. I was obsessed with Vince Carter, the new star of the Toronto Raptors, and I wondered if I could somehow use the assignment to get closer to Vince. My newly minted email address was vince_kerman@ I invited Vince to my birthday party (he did not reply), attended his basketball camp in the summer, and drew pictures of him during art class. Knowing I probably wouldn't hear back from the man himself, I took a different track. I decided to get in touch with the person who'd drafted Vince. The person responsible for this decision was the Raptors general manager, Glen Grunwald. Glen, a former Division 1 college basketball player turned lawyer turned sports executive, was the architect of the team. It was an ambitious idea but also potentially a very fun one. It was an ambitious idea but also potentially a very fun one. I opened the phone book and flipped to the back where the businesses were listed. I found the number for the Toronto Raptors front office and their address at the recently opened Air Canada Centre. Without wasting a moment, I called and the receptionist answered. In my twelve-year-old preteen voice, I nervously asked, "Can I please speak to Mr. Glen Grunwald?" "Please hold." Within a minute, I was put through to his secretary. With my heart pounding, I explained in my most professional tone the nature of the school assignment and how Glen had my dream job. Maybe it was the randomness of my request or perhaps the fact that I'd caught her off guard, but she agreed to arrange a phone call with Glen. Immediately, my school assignment became the most fun and exciting thing in my life. The instinct to find an adventure in any potentially mundane assignment was revealing: chasing the thing that's reasonable and obvious will never have quite the same payoff as chasing the thing that really excites you. I called Glen while he was on the road with the team in Charlotte, North Carolina. We spoke for twenty minutes, and he was very patient and kind with my questions. I emailed him some follow-up questions the next week. For my birthday, through some secret coordination with my dad, he gave me a backstage tour of the arena and dressing room before a Raptors game. Throughout the entire experience, I was so genuinely thrilled to have a relationship with Glen. I felt incredibly lucky. The rush of calling his office. The emails back and forth. It was purely so much fun. It's a feeling that has since become a part of my daily life and work. I'm just poking around and seeing what might happen. I'm not sure where the instinct to ask comes from, but why not? If you get in the habit of reaching out and connecting dots, and it becomes a part of your life, the stakes are never particularly high. I'm just poking around and seeing what might happen. I don't feel like anyone owes me anything; I simply hope that someone sees a spark of something fun or interesting or of mutual benefit. Or simple kindness. You should assume you will rarely get the response you're looking for, but that's okay. If you hold grudges and have the memory of an elephant, you might feel betrayed or resentful. Luckily, I have the memory of a goldfish.
