Cochlear Implant

THE GASLIGHT ANTHEMw/ Heartless Bastards. The Starlite Room (10030-102 St). Wed, Apr 8 (8pm). Tickets available through Ticketmaster, unionevents.ca, Blackbyrd.

The Gaslight Anthem is just as blown away by their newfound recognition as you would be if you suddenly found yourself onstage, headlining shows in cities you’ve never heard of — they’re a band that’s still more used to recalls in the audience at shows, not the headlining act.

“We were the fans very, very recently.” says frontman (and former construction worker) Brian Fallon. “It came out of nowhere. Yesterday I was sweeping floors and cleaning up roofing tiles, and now I’m playing in Canada to over 900 people.” Maybe it’s those dreams of ditching his nine-to-five existence and moving on to something better that Fallon is thinking of when you hear him sing the line “We were always waiting for something to happen” on “Great Expectations,” the leadoff track to the band’s breakthrough 2008 album The ’59 Sound.

Fallon says their band has always taken a blue-collar approach to making records. “We always wanted to be that band that everyone kind of felt like it was their band,” he says. “It didn’t matter how big or small things got, that it could still feel like it was their band. We’re singing songs for them — the common everyday guy — ’cause that’s really what the four of us are.”

The New Brunswick, N.J. quartet (which also features bassist Alex Levine, drummer Benny Horowitz and guitarist Alex Rosamilia) formed in 2005 and released their first disc, Sink or Swim, in 2007. But it wasn’t until 2008 that The Gaslight Anthem’s stock began to rapidly rise, with the Brits enthusiastically embracing their nostalgic sound, part Joe Strummer greaser and part Otis Redding soul, and Pitchfork giving The ’59 Sound a rave. (“It’s simple, it’s sincere, and it kills me every time,” the reviewer wrote, in a rare display of unabashed enthusiasm from the hard-to-please site.) Not bad for an album that Fallon says was conceived merely with “the intention of playing it live — it’s really a preview of seeing us onstage.”

That live show is filled with homages to their musical heroes — from live covers of soul legend Ben E. King, references to trumpeter Miles Davis, or songs like “I’da Called You Woody, Joe,” a heartfelt tribute to Joe Strummer that was one of the highlights of their 2005 debut: “I carried these songs like a comfort wherever I’d go,” reads one of the song’s key lines, and Fallon happily confesses how the sounds of The Clash used to resonate within the walls of his teenage bedroom. Listening to Strummer would give him the confidence that everything was going to be alright, he says, and remind him to hold life’s precious moments close to him.

As Fallon talks about his band’s success, it’s hard not to think of the community spirit of a band like The Clash. They might not be playing to the same size crowds, but like Strummer, Fallon takes the idea of someone putting his music on their stereo or invite them into their city very seriously. “You feel grateful,” he says, “because you’ve never been [to a city] and the fans don’t owe you anything — you owe them everything. I feel like a citizen of everywhere.”