A focused look into one of Vancouver’s most compelling and dynamic acts.
Image from: Allysa Pierre // @allysapierre
Named after a massive and tragic landslide in Hope, but characterized by sweepingly emphatic orchestral beauty, Hope Slide might have begun as a modest solo project, but it has evolved into something far more collaborative and layered. Beginning with Calvin Jay and Zane Klassen after a serendipitous meeting in film school, the band now operates as a six-piece baroque pop/indie rock collective. Their dynamic sound is built on a rich foundation of multi-instrumental talent, with violin, piano, lap steel, and saxophone complementing the traditional rock setup. Inspired by artists like Arcade Fire, Big Thief, Mitski, Mount Eerie, and Destroyer, the group threads emotional intimacy through lush, intricate arrangements, and currently stand as an evolving gem in Vancouver’s vibrant music scene.
“Ultimately, our process reflects our friendship. Its easy to be open with those you are closest with.“
The band’s name, Hope Slide, carries a rather palpable sense of history and place, especially for listeners in BC. Referencing the tragic 1965 landslide east of Vancouver in Hope, Calvin recounts how the site became a personal symbol during his frequent drives through the area. “The Hope Slide has always been an eerie, yet breathtaking site to see,” he says. The name is steeped in memory and meaning—whether it’s the story of a bus driver following his intuition and narrowly avoiding disaster in the valley or Calvin’s own wistful reflections of a fleeting romantic encounter there. Local landmarks and longing, emotional stories frequently reflect the storytelling and themes found in their music, giving the band a unique emotional resonance.
“Forces of nature, and stories left unwritten, these are themes I borrow from when writing.“
Hope Slide’s formation was an organic process. As Calvin tells it, the group’s early prototype fell apart before the current lineup solidified. But the initial dissolution only deepened the collaboration to come. Zane remained a steady presence, while Kerry Hickli (piano, vocals) and Jack Hanrahan (bass, vocals) joined after bonding over their shared desire to perform. Elena Massing (violin, vocals) connected with the group after being tattooed by Kerry, and her close friend, Fiona Sjaus (violin) soon after completed the ensemble. Together they bring added textures and additional chemistry to the band’s already rich sound. The collective dynamic takes on less of a what one may consider a traditional setting, but exists more like a close-knit club, where every member has an equal say.
“But at the end of it all, I’m not sure if I can give one answer to why we’re all drawn to the project, its simply good fortune that we found each other.“
The group has an upcoming EP that promises to capture their love-hate relationship with Vancouver itself—a city that, much like their music, is brimming with beauty and heartbreak. Calvin describes the city as “home, but often slipping,” a fragile foundation where beloved landmarks can vanish any given month and uncertainty frequently looms overhead. From iPhone samples of the SkyTrain to lyrics referencing East Van, home is often reflected in their work. Their May 2024 single, “Something Changed,” encapsulates plenty of what could be considered the Vancouver experience. Initially written during a period of personal upheaval, the song’s brilliantly cathartic outro transforms a deep pain into communal release.
“This anxiety of loss – whether it be a person you love, a situation, or an apartment – is a common theme on the EP. But like a faltering lover or “situationship”, its all too beautiful, so you throw yourself down once more, singing “Vancouver, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down.”“
Though the song was nearly shelved during the mixing process, Calvin reflects on the final result with a sense of acceptance: “I don’t think I ever completed ‘Something Changed.’ But that’s okay, because it’s no longer mine.”
“Sometimes there isn’t a tangible reason for the loss of love, something changes, then you’re left to desperately try to go back or move forward. And from experience, one hurts a lot more than the other.“
Hope Slide thrives on a balance between intentionality and spontaneity. Whether crafting songs through meticulous collaboration or embracing the happy accidents that arise from improvisation, the band’s creative process is deeply reflective of their shared friendships. With classical training meeting self-taught grit, they build music that feels alive—shaped by precision and imperfection, and containing an ever-enduring spirit. As their sound continues to evolve, one thing is clear: Hope Slide’s music is as deeply personal as the stories they carry, and as expansive as the landscapes that inspire them.
While the forthcoming EP doesn’t currently have an official release date, it is anticipated to arrive in the Spring. We could also hear more material from the band in early 2025. Additionally, Calvin highlighted that the Hope Slide live experience is set to return in a big way in 2025, as some exciting shows have been booked to keep an eye out for.
It was a pleasure connecting with Calvin for this profile. For the extent of our conversation, and more on one of Vancouver’s most enticing bands, read on:
Kyle: For those who might not have heard of Hope Slide, how would you introduce the band, the members, and what you’re all about?
Calvin: Hope Slide is a baroque pop/indie rock band formed in Vancouver, BC. It was originally a solo/recording project between myself (Calvin), and our drummer Zane Klassen after we met in film school. Now, there’s six permanent members, all of which are multi-instrumentalists, featuring violin, guitar, bass, saxophone, piano, drums, lap steel, and four vocalists. We’re inspired by artists such as Arcade Fire, King Krule, Big Thief, Mitski, Mount Eerie, and Destroyer. Hope Slide is: Kerry Hickli – Piano/Vocals Zane Klassen – Percussion/Various Instruments Elena Massing – Violin/vocals Fiona Sjaus – Violin Jack Hanrahan – Bass/vocals Calvin Jay – Vocals/Guitar/Saxophone
I wanted to start with your name, especially with its connection to the historical Hope Slide. As a BC-based band, was there a specific reason for choosing this namesake for what was your solo project at the time?
The project has always been called Hope Slide. I used to drive past the Hope Slide on the way to the Okanagan and Interior of BC a couple times a year, while Zane often drives back home to Alberta. I’ve always romanticized highways and rest stops. The Hope Slide has always been an eerie, yet breathtaking site to see.
I love this story I heard once about a greyhound bus driver who trusted his intuition and stopped driving moments before the valley was buried in the 60’s. I also had a romantic encounter with someone there, the relationship never bloomed, and I’m always reminded of “what could’ve been” when I drive past the slide. Forces of nature, and stories left unwritten, these are themes I borrow from when writing.
Can you give me some background to how the band started to come together, and on the flip side, what drew everyone towards the project?
I don’t think I wrote a decent song until I was 23, kids these days seem to write an absolute banger at like, 17 years old! So, to me, I’m a late bloomer in terms of making music. I began releasing music at 24, but didn’t actually play live until Zane (Drums/multi-instrumentalist) and I formed a sort of prototype Hope Slide before the current project formed. When that proto band broke up, we were devastated, but wanted to keep making music, so we decided to make Hope Slide “a thing”. Once upon a time there were four albums on streaming services under Hope Slide, but they’ve since been shelved. If you ask nicely, I’ll leak them.
Kerry (Piano) and Jack (Bass/vocals) worked at the same cafe at the time, and had been wanting to perform since they moved here. Elena (Violin) was introduced to us after getting tattooed by Kerry. She said to Kerry “I want to be in the music scene but no one ever needs a violinist”, little did she know that I had put out a call on instagram that week in search of a violinist. Then Fiona (violin) joined full-time after recording with us over the summer. She’s good friends with Elena, and the two play off each other so well. She also plays guitar and piano, and that will come in handy for future endeavours.
I think what drew everyone together was collaboration. Generally, we all have equal say on major decisions both musically and business wise. It kind of feels like a little club sometimes, we’re all best friends outside of the band, but together and when we play, it feels like absolute magic. But at the end of it all, I’m not sure if I can give one answer to why we’re all drawn to the project, its simply good fortune that we found each other.
You mentioned the prototype Hope Slide and how the current lineup came together through both good fortune and collaboration. Looking back, are there specific lessons or pivotal moments from that early version of the band that shaped how you approach the music and dynamics now? Also, consider this a most sincere formal request, I’d love to hear those early chapters of Hope Slide that were shelved!
Yeah, I can send over a little sample. Yes I learned a lot from the early days Although that original group was brief, Zane and I both learned how beautiful collaboration can be. I also discovered rather quickly that I suffer from intense stage fright, and hold a lot of nerves on the day of a show.
In the early days, it was just Zane, Jack, myself and our former guitarist Rollie. Our first show was at Lanalou’s, and our last show (as a four piece) was at The Roxy. Zane and I are the only members who drive, so we like to stay organized on a show day. We’ve developed specific routines that we enjoy on the day of a show. We have very little rock star energy – we plan out rehearsal, pack the car like tetris, and are early for load-in/sound check. Perhaps its because both of us day job in the film industry, and if you’re not an hour early, you’re late.
Musically, there were a few moments that nudged us in the right direction. We played a lot of catchy indie rock in the early days, but around the time Kerry and Elena began to develop more autonomy in the group, our sound became more intricate. Having one guitarist has helped with that. I think I’m the worst guitarist in Hope Slide, so a lot of lead riff elements get shifted to Elena and Kerry to take over. Its easy for electric guitar to overpower everything, so I’ve learned to really listen to the other instruments, in an effort to balance our dynamics. In brief, we’ve learned to listen to each other.
The band has an EP on the way that we can’t wait for. Vancouver, as you’ve highlighted, plays a significant role in Hope Slide’s music. The earliest song from the EP was written in a rat-infested basement in East Van, the project itself recorded at Raincity Recorders. Can you shed some light on the importance of the city and how you feel it’s refelected in the music?
I have always had a love/hate relationship with Vancouver. It’ll break you in two and then kiss you on the cheek. Its home, but often times its slipping. Its hard to feel comfortable when at any moment rent might hike, “the big one” could hit, and your favourite cafe could be rezoned into a multi-million dollar condo. This anxiety of loss – whether it be a person you love, a situation, or an apartment – is a common theme on the EP. But like a faltering lover or “situationship”, its all too beautiful, so you throw yourself down once more, singing “Vancouver, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down.”
I think its fun to reference your home town in a song. Whenever I listen to Destroyer, for example, I’m always drawn to the Vancouver references like “Tinseltown Dripping in Blood”, “Chinatown”, or Kaputt’s album artwork taken atop Queen E Park. The EP has several references to Vancouver, from an iphone sample of the skytrain, to an East Van shoutout. Our lead single is partly about Vancouver Winters in like, February when all the snow starts to melt and the city becomes a slushy mess. Worst time of the year, hands down, and then comes Valentines Day.
First, love the LCD Soundsystem reference, that’s an all-time favourite track for me. It’s awesome that you mention Destroyer’s references to Vancouver in their art, I get the same feeling listening to A Salmon Spawned, hearing your references to Gold Creek, Webster’s Corner, etc. as I’m often in Maple Ridge. As you mention the love/hate relationship with Vancouver, I think it gives the music a more palpable feeling as a listener having a better understanding of the roots. Is this something that you keep in mind during your writing process, or does it naturally just come about within the stories of each song?
Yeah, big Maple Ridge references on A Salmon Spawned. That record was about revisiting your hometown after your folks have moved, and your childhood home is no more. Recorded terribly, I think, but the concept was there. It’ll probably come down from streaming soon. Away with the old, usher forth the new.
I often find the moral of a song is discovered after its conception. Its rare that I write a song with the intention of name-dropping a specific place. But in the moment of recounting a story, its as simple as looking up at a street sign and remembering “Oh yeah, I turned left down Commercial Drive not right after getting my heart broken!” For some, that specific detail might be moving, but for me it is always imperative.
The band as a collective released its debut single back in May, and it stands as one of my favourite tracks of 2024 in the way it balances instrumental elegance with a yearning, crashing emotion in the vocal delivery. “Something Changed” is an enthralling depiction of emotional conflict, self reflection, and a potently raw vulnerability. For a track so wonderfully but devastatingly cathartic, I’m curious if you can recall any challenges or a breakthrough moment in the making of the song?
There were a few breakthroughs while writing “Something Changed”. The first came upon its initial demo in the Spring of 2021. I wrote and demoed that song in a day while the story you hear was unfolding. After the dust had settled, my relationship had ended, I’d lost my apartment, and was starting all over again. But when I revisited this song, I realized I had something. The lyrics, to me, are ugly, awkward, and sobering. Terms that accurately describe the exit wound of a relationship failed by indifference.
Our decision to lean into its alt-folk vibe totally changed its alex-g-coded-indie-rock demo into its current, sleepy, Wilco-esque state. We swapped drum sticks for brushes, had Zane record lap steel, banjo, and added more vocal harmonies. Kerry had a violin bow laying around, and I had just bought this cool reverb pedal. When I put them together, we got this weird, shrieking sound that sort of punctuates the end of a verse. I think I was trying to emulate a ghost or something.
The last eureka moment was made possible by Kerry. The song was never supposed to have its crashing, cathartic outro. It was maybe even supposed to fade out, but Kerry wrote this beautiful piano line that changes the key, tempo, and emotion of the song. For a few shows, I’d ad-lib the ending lyrics, mumbling apologies until landing on what you hear today. Kerry’s a true genius for that one, though. She finished the song. It also features Elena going full UBC opera major vocals on the outro.
Also should mention that “Something Changed” took forever to mix. It didn’t come easy, but Colt Valenti did some fine work, and did well at wrangling our vision. There were times where I wanted to shelf it because I thought it to be underwhelming. I found it difficult at times to sonically emulate the devastation of that story. I kept complicating the process because its a complicated subject, I suppose. Sometimes there isn’t a tangible reason for the loss of love, something changes, then you’re left to desperately try to go back or move forward. And from experience, one hurts a lot more than the other.
The final stretch of the track that Kerry extended is so special. Between the piano line, your cathartic outpour, the stunning vocal arrangements, it is such a stifling moment. You also mentioned that you fought with shelfing the song and complicating it in general. When you finally got it right, can you recall what that felt like? I guess additionally, given the complexity of the emotions and subject of the track, how did you know when you finally you got it right?
I don’t think I ever completed “Something Changed”. I still don’t think it sounds the way I wanted it to and I was never one hundred per cent satisfied. But that’s okay, because its no longer mine.
I read an artist interview somewhere, and the question was “How do you know when something is done?” And the answer was “When you no longer care.”
Is there a consistency in the band’s songwriting process? Or does the music come from a variety of different places?
Our songwriting process contains multitudes. Sometimes, a song like “Something Changed” will arrive fully conceptualized, then everyone elevates the riff or melody that I’ve given them. Other songs like one off the EP, was written and is sung by Kerry. That one we wrote in two rehearsals, then performed it a week later. We basically just jammed/improvised it until something stuck.
I believe we’re at our best when someone makes a mistake and the rest of us are like “Woah! That was sick! You should actually do that.” Three of us are classically trained musicians, and the other three are self-taught. Let’s just say the girls are much smarter than the guys in the band. When we come together, you get musicians who are forced to improvise and live with mistakes, and sloppy musicians like me who are doomed to deal with weird time signature changes. We like to test out new material immediately rather than perfect it first. We never know how a song truly sounds until were on stage and outside of our tiny, loud, and feedbacky rehearsal space.
Ultimately, our process reflects our friendship. Its easy to be open with those you are closest with.
You mentioned being at your best when someone makes a mistake that in turn, sounds great within a song. Additionally, you highlighted earlier that the band is influenced by Mount Eerie. I heard Phil speak about the beauty of the authenticity of mistakes in final-recordings of music in an interview, and it’s something I find fascinating, sort of as wabi-sabi in music form. Do you think embracing the possibilities of mistakes has shaped the group’s approach to creating music, especially with 3 members being classically trained, and 3 being autodidacts?
Yes, of course. I mean, it was kind of an accident that Zane ended up drumming in Hope Slide. He wanted to play guitar, but agreed to play drums until we found another drummer. He’s a natural guitarist – absolutely shreds – bass too – but his drumming technique has such an irreplaceable quality to it.
Our forthcoming EP has creaks and groans on it from the piano bench shifting as Kerry plays. I like imperfections, they reflect people. I always crank the room mics in mixing, that’s where the magic is.
Unlike everyone else in the group, I wasn’t gifted with the voice of an angel (I mean, Elena studies Opera for fuck sakes). I was told to “stop singing”, even by my late grandmother (love her though and her dry Danish delivery) when I was a boy. Let’s just say I never even dared to sing around the campfire while growing up. Even to this day, karaoke terrifies me.
I’ve certainly gotten better because people keep coming to shows, but there will always be imperfections in my vocals. I think that’s why I always gravitate towards singers like Phil Elverum, or Robert Smith, or Tom Waits. I think there’s a quality of loneliness in their vocals, as if they had to fight just a little bit harder to be heard. But they absolutely slay.
In terms of any creative disagreements, how does the band go about resolving them?
When you have six members, six minds, six different ideas for one issue, obviously there are creative differences. Its hard to focus on structure or melody when the rhythm section is constantly trying to drive us forward. There are times where we’ll hold a separate rehearsal without drums or amps, and instead work in someone’s living room so we can focus on the story.
I’m a huge diva, and I get frustrated or emotional when something isn’t quite clicking. Luckily, my bandmates are extremely supportive, and know when to call me out or throw me a bone. Everyone offers solutions, and that’s what makes us move forward.
If you take away the magic of songwriting, its merely creative problem solving. You can try changing a key, a tempo, time signature, or shorten a lyric, and still have the same issues. Sometimes, it takes a complete overhaul to realize a song. Sometimes its as simple as saying “what if we try playing it this time like were being chased by bees?”
Its like any relationship, you’ve got to know when to push or pull.
What has been the most rewarding moment for you all as a collective so far?
Opening for Panchiko at a sold-out Vogue Theatre is the easy answer. It was always a childhood dream to play there and I could simply never fathom playing there this early into my career. Recording our EP is probably tied with that. The first track was written way back in 2018, and another in 2020. Its been a long time coming to record this EP. We didn’t receive a grant or anything, so the money was saved up after playing shows every month for a year and a half. It was quite rewarding to finally immortalize these stories.
But if were going to get very specific, the small things are rewarding. We love everything from rehearsing to soundcheck. One of my favourites is just getting dinner with the band before a show, or talking with folks at the merch table. I’m still stoked that people like yourself are engaged enough with our music to ask questions, and I don’t take any success for granted.
Tell me about the Hope Slide live experience. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to make it out to a show yet, apart from great music, what have I been missing?
You’re not missing anything, but you might find something you like.
If you were in a music club with your friends, what would be the first album you would put forth for review and discussion?
I will never shut up about Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. It’s got something for everyone on it, you can listen to the singles and get it, but if you listen front to back, you’re in for a journey.
Same with The National’s Sleep Well Beast – an album that masquerades as a failing marriage but is, to me, about political division, and the seizing of the American machine.
Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You… From A Basement on the Hill… A Moon Shaped Pool… Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle… Absolutely by Dijon…
I could never pick just one.
Can you think of an album that someone important to you shared with you that you hold close to this day?
Yeah, there’s countless. I mean, my dad showed me High Violet by The National when I was a teenager, and that was a game changer for me.
Kerry turned me onto that one Jerkcurb album that is absolutely fantastic. She also got me into Man Alive! by King Krule. I never really liked that 6 Feet Beneath the Moon record, and the Ooz had its moments, but M.A. floored me.
Around the time we started Hope Slide, Zane had been bugging me for like a year to listen to Ants From Up There. It took a co-worker doubling down that it’d be a “Calvin Record” for me to listen. Obviously, it was real good. Very exciting to hear a band with similar musical ambitions find success.
Catch Hope Slide live at the Cobalt on December 20th with Ally Dean and JARS: Tickets
Soundwave Society Music Club 
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