The name on the marquee still carries the weight of a thousand AM radio summers. You see those three words—The Guess Who—and your brain immediately cues the distorted fuzz of "American Woman" or the lounge-room longing of "These Eyes." It is a heavy brand to carry, especially when the lineup has shifted more times than a Winnipeg snowdrift. But sitting down with the current iteration of the band to discuss their latest effort, *Plein D’Amour*, you realize this isn’t some hollowed-out tribute act cashing in on suburban nostalgia.
There is a specific, tactile energy to this record. It sounds like a group of people trapped in a room together, which, as it turns out, is exactly what happened. The band decamped to Villa Sound in Singhampton, Ontario, a space owned by the late Tim Thorney. It’s a room with character, the kind of place where the wood on the walls actually matters to the drum tone.
Garry Peterson, the man behind the kit and the sole remaining link to the band’s 1960s genesis, still possesses that sharp, rhythmic intuition. He doesn’t talk like a guy ready to retire. "We were all in Singhampton Ontario; all there for eight days recording in the studio, all together, all creating," Peterson shares. "That's what happens when you're in a studio and you're able to be free and do however the moment strikes you. It becomes something special that you hope is captured on record."
The result is a collection of songs that feels remarkably unforced. In an era where rock records are often assembled via email attachments and Pro Tools plugins, *Plein D’Amour* opts for a messy, organic warmth. It is a throwback to a mid-70s production style where the space between the notes actually breathes.
One of the more interesting textures on the album came from a literal accident of geography. A mandolin was leaning against a wall in the studio, and instead of ignoring it, the band put it to work. It wasn't in the plan, but it defined the track. "That's called recording and creating," Peterson adds.
The lead singles, including "The King" and the title track, have already started to populate the algorithms of Spotify and Apple Music. But hearing them through a proper set of monitors reveals a complexity that a smartphone speaker can't catch. There is a dense, vocal-heavy architecture here that leans into the more ambitious side of 1970s pop.
Vocalist Derek Sharp, who has been the frontman for a decade and a half, is the architect behind much of this sonic density. He isn't trying to mimic Burton Cummings; he’s doing something much more technically demanding. "Well, The King started out as this ambitious song I was writing," Sharp explains. "It's pretty technical musically, because it goes through a bunch of modulations and rhythm things, but the massive amount of background vocals are really what we like to call like the horn section of the band."
It is a bold move. Using human voices to mimic a brass section requires a level of precision that most modern rock bands wouldn't bother with. It calls to mind the maximalist approach of Queen or ELO, where the studio itself becomes an instrument.
The title of the record, *Plein D’Amour*, might seem like a bit of a curveball for a band rooted in the gritty bars of Winnipeg. But it fits the sun-drenched, optimistic vibe of the music. It is a pivot away from the cynicism that often plagues veteran acts trying to sound "relevant."
Sharp is clear about the linguistic and emotional intent behind the choice. "Plein D’Amour means full of love in French. It's an all-you-need-is-love kind of record. A positive message," he explains. The song underwent a radical surgery during the sessions. It started in a minor key, draped in shadows, before the band decided to flip the script and align it with the rest of the album's bright outlook.
The atmosphere at Villa Sound during the pandemic was less like a high-pressure session and more like a creative retreat. There was a sense of play that is usually the first thing to die in a professional studio. Sharp remembers the room being littered with instruments that weren't necessarily on the gear list.
"These mandolins and bouzoukis were just sitting around... Everybody grabbed something and started working and that's how it happened. It all just felt very natural," Sharp recalls. That spontaneity is the secret sauce here. You can hear the lack of overthinking in the way the tracks swing.
The Guess Who wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a calculated decision, but one of those accidental, defining moments. I personally hated the name [Guess Who]... but it chose us. I remember thinking, 'Are we really going with this?' But, in hindsight, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course, the elephant in the room is always the legacy. When you tour under this name, you are competing with the ghosts of 1970. Fans show up with specific expectations, and balancing the hits with new material is a delicate act of diplomacy.
Sharp doesn't shy away from the reality of the situation. He knows the crowd wants the classics, but he also knows the band needs to breathe. "Gary and I spearheaded this journey 15 years ago. Of course, everybody wants to hear American Woman and we’re happy to come through, but we’re not here to only relive the past," Sharp says.
The philosophy is simple: don't mimic, celebrate. They aren't trying to be a museum piece. They are trying to be a functioning, evolving rock band that happens to have one of the best back catalogues in the business.
"We're not trying to recreate the past. We're just celebrating what happened," Sharp emphasizes. This distinction is vital. It allows the 2023 version of the group to exist on its own terms without being crushed by the weight of what happened 50 years ago.
There is a connective tissue that runs through every era of this band, from the Bachman-Cummings days through the Kurt Winter years and into the present. That thread is a shared musical vocabulary rooted in the British Invasion.
Peterson sees the lineage clearly. "We all grew up listening to the same things," he explains. "Whether it's the era of the band with Kurt Winter in it, or Greg Leskiw, Derek Sharpe, Rudy Sarzo, Randy Bachman or Burton Cummings, we all had the same heroes. Everybody that's ever been in this band has loved The Beatles."
That Fab Four influence is all over *Plein D’Amour*. It’s in the harmonies, the melodic turns and the refusal to stick to one boring genre. It is the sound of musicians who have spent their lives studying the craft of the three-minute pop song.
And let’s be honest: the way these guys play has changed. They aren't the same kids who were loading gear into a van in 1965. There is a different kind of authority that comes with age. Sharp is the first to point out that stagnation is the enemy.
"Who the hell plays the same from the time they're 20 years old to their 70?s" Sharp quips. It’s a fair point. The youthful aggression of the early days has been replaced by a more nuanced, sophisticated approach to the kit and the microphone.
Peterson, ever the gentleman of the drums, takes a more refined view of the aging process. "Maybe you get a little bit better with age, just like wine," he adds. It’s a classic line, but in his case, it holds up. His playing on the new record is tasteful, pocket-heavy and technically flawless.
For Peterson, this isn't just a job. He has been the heartbeat of this organization for over six decades. He has seen the highs of international stardom and the lows of the legal battles and lineup changes that come with a long-running brand.
"I've really dedicated my whole life to this band," Peterson reflects. That kind of loyalty is rare in an industry that usually chews people up and spits them out before they hit 30. He is currently working on a memoir to document this long, strange trip.
The book promises to be more than just a list of tour dates and chart positions. Peterson wants to get at the actual experience of being in the middle of the rock 'n' roll machine. "It's not just a story of music, but of friendships, risks, and raw passion," he notes.
To understand where they are going, you have to look back at the beginning. Before the hits, they were Chad Allan And The Reflections, a group of Winnipeg kids trying to find a sound in 1962. They were born out of the ashes of local outfits like The Silvertones and the Velvetones.
Peterson gets a certain look in his eye when he talks about those early days in Manitoba. It was a time of absolute musical purity. "You know, The Velvetones... those were the days of pure unfiltered dreams. We were young, passionate, and every tune felt like we were on top of the world," he says.
The transition to the name "The Guess Who" wasn't some brilliant marketing masterstroke. It was a fluke, a bit of radio promotion trickery by Quality Records in 1965 to build hype for their cover of "Shakin' All Over". They wanted people to think it might be a famous British band.
Peterson wasn't a fan of the moniker at first. It felt like a gimmick. "The Guess Who wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a calculated decision, but one of those accidental, defining moments," he says. He laughs about it now, but at the time, it felt like a mistake. "I personally hated the name... but it chose us. I remember thinking, 'Are we really going with this?' But you know, in hindsight, I wouldn't have it any other way."
The band is taking this new material on the road, including a stop at the Temple Theatre in Saginaw, MI on Sept. 22, 2023. It is a beautiful, historic venue that should suit the lush production of the new songs perfectly.
The show will be a collision of eras. You’ll get the hits, because you have to, but you’ll also get a glimpse of a band that is still actively trying to create something new. It’s a rare thing to see a legacy act still bothered about the quality of their new writing.
*Plein D’Amour* is a record that demands to be heard on its own merits. It is a vibrant, technically impressive piece of work that honors the past without being a slave to it. For a band that started by accident in 1962, they sound remarkably intentional in 2023.
If you want to see what six decades of dedication sounds like, or if you just want to hear some damn good rock 'n' roll, you can find the new record at theguesswho.com. This isn't just a victory lap; it's a new start.
