Listening to the story of Canadian duo cleopatrick is a bit like hearing the plot of the best, most righteously validating coming-of-age film never made. Two friends meet aged four in Hicksville, Nowheretown (real name: Cobourg, Ontario, population 19,000), grow up completely inseparable, form a band and, against numerous obstacles, blossom into a genuine, global underground sensation. There are heroes and villains, highs and lows and, crucially, some of the most poetic plot twists that could seem almost too perfect, were they not completely true. “We want our music to feel as big as hip hop does in the club – big subs and loud drums and vocals right up front. But lyrically, we want to sing songs that everyone in the crowd feels comfortable singing along to. There’s a [historical] formula to rock music where people sing about drugs and alcohol and sex and it’s so fucking phony; it makes us so angry that kids who want to hear guitar music and get something from it and have a favourite band have to settle for that, and listen to these dudes lying to them,” Luke asserts. “It’s so gross to me and completely the opposite of how this genre started.” Recorded with 21-year-old NRM peer and producer Jig Dubé putting their supportive, community-driven money where their mouths are, cleopatrick’s debut is a time capsule of a record – nodding to their insular, small town beginnings (second single ‘THE DRAKE’’ was written in reference to a traumatic gig in which their high school bullies turned up and started punching people in the mosh pit) but reaching for something altogether more exciting, utopian and full of life. And at its heart, it’s an album about two friends, who’ve been with each other since the formative first steps that adorn ‘BUMMER’’s heartwarming cover images (two pictures taken by the pair’s kindergarten teacher from when Luke and Ian accidentally showed up to school in matching sweaters) and made something that’s a testament to the power of sticking to your guns. “To look back and reflect on the people we were at the start of all this when it was a pipedream and still feel like the same people, that feels cool. Although there’s a lot that’s changed, it still feels like the same vision,” Ian smiles. “We’ve been comparing the album to the Voyager One probe – it has everything about us in it and we don’t know if people will get it or if people will care, but it feels so good to have it out there,” Luke nods. “It feels like a small way to live forever.”