I grew up in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, a small fishing town with a population of approximately 8,000. The chance of clouds and fog is usually at least 75-85 percent. There was not a lot to do there but a lot of people did pick up instruments and play in bands. The music tended to be pretty dark and pretty heavy. It definitely struck a chord with me at the time, the gloom of the environment seeping out into the air through old, worn out amplifiers and teenage epiphany. Oh, those guttural yells! I think I have retained a bit of this heavy backbone in my songwriting, although I wouldn't consider the music we tend to write as heavy.

There are certainly folk elements throughout both of our records. Lots of acoustic guitars, storytelling and references to the sublime aspects of nature that so many songwriters throughout the history of East Coast music have concentrated on in ballads and stories. It seems natural to me.

I think as maritime Canadians we certainly have a keen sense of our environment. We've all been out on the ocean. We all know what it is like to stare into salty horizons. We've all been beckoned by storms and fog horns and ghosts in the distance. We've all felt sand between our toes, heard the old wives tales and songs of shipwrecks, of collapsed lungs of villagers and mining beds and forlorn widows mourning. We've all sat on shores with friends and watched waves crashing on beaches, drinking whiskey in plastic cups….

— Paul Murphy