Music: {allcanada} Big Sugar sweet on hitting the road

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Gordie Johnson is back in a Big way.

Nearly a decade after unplugging Big Sugar and splitting the scene, the singer-guitarist is strapping on his trademark double-neck guitar for another go-round with his CanCon combo.

"I figure it's finally safe to come back out," drawls the 47-year-old Johnson, bombing down a Texas highway in his pickup. "I can finally get back out there and do whatever the hell I want."

That wasn't the case in the early '90s, when record-label micromanagement drove him to pack up his Hugo Boss suits and decamp for his cattle ranch in the Lone Star State. He didn't hang up his spurs, though. Since then, he's been fronting the cowboy-metal power-trio Grady, working as a producer and songwriter -- he's had a hand in recent albums by North Mississippi Allstars, Warren Haynes and The Trews, among others -- and playing bass with Canadian blues-rockers Wide Mouth Mason.

But now that the Internet has upended the music biz to his liking -- "You can just make music, and if people want it, they'll find it" -- he's ready to pick up where he left off with the new album Revolution Per Minute (out June 28). Recorded last year in Toronto with bassist Garry Lowe, blues harpist Kelly (Mr. Chill) Hoppe, drummer Stephane Bodean and toasting keyboardist Friendlyness, it resurrects the same eclectic hybrid of roots, rock and reggae that had the suits scratching their noggins back in the day.

En route to score another used double-neck ("This will make five") before heading home to Canada, Johnson spilled the beans on reunions, dressing the part and messing with his fans' heads.

How easy was it to get back together? Did you all just fall back into the groove musically and personally, or did it take time to reconnect?

It was instantaneous musically. And on a personal level, there was just so much less external pressure. Toward the end in the '90s, the conversation wasn't about music anymore, and that got really depressing to me. I could see it slowly eroding to the point where we were only going to be talking about money, and it was going to be up to a committee to decide what we did. I just wanted it to be about music, which is exactly where it's at now. After my phone call to see if everybody wanted to get back together, it was months before anybody brought up how much we were going to get paid. Instead, we were talking about songs we used to do and how we used to do 'em and what we could do now. That's all the right reasons to be doing it.

Are you going to concentrate on new material live, or play hits we haven't heard in a decade?

The surprising thing to me, because I have been gone, is that it hasn't been a decade since people have heard those songs. They've been listening to them while I was away. I may not have listened to them in 10 years, but everybody else has. But I'm taking the same approach we took back in the day. We always challenged the audience with new material before it was released and incorporated different things into songs they already know. At the same time, I don't need to punish my fans. If they still care about Digging a Hole, then I still care about Digging a Hole.

Why do you like challenging your audience?

The way I see it is that it's like going over to someone's house and listening to their music. You don't want to hear stuff you already know. It's more fun to hear something you've never heard. That's what I'm doing when I step onstage. I wanna play you stuff you dig, but also stuff I know you're going to dig even though you haven't heard it. I'm just doing what comes natural to me. I figure if I'm up there having a good time, people want to get in on it. I feel like the energy has to go from me to you. A lot of performers say they get their energy from the crowd. I have never looked at it that way. I guess it's my Ukrainian work ethic. I figure I have to go up onstage and make it happen for you. That's my job. When you're having a great time, I'm having a great time. But I'd be having a great time anyway, sorry to report!

So, what did you do with all those Hugo Boss suits?

Well, some of them still fit me. But I'm a big ole boy now. When I was in my 20s, I was fashion-model skinny. But I'm not in my 20s anymore, so I dress like a man now. But I think rock 'n' roll is a business where you should look the way it sounds. With Grady, that's a pair of Wranglers, a black T-shirt and a cowboy hat. These days with Big Sugar, it's Rasta and dreadlocks.

Which is those is the real you? Or are they all different facets?

It's all me. I don't have any costumes. I wear a cowboy hat because I own cattle -- it came with the horsey. But I'm also down with Rastafari. I study the music and the culture; I grew up with that. That's part of me too. I don't sit down and or think, 'Which Gordie Johnson am I going to be today?' I'm just being me. It might look confusing, but it's not.

You've got three bands on the go, along with songwriting and producing. How are you going to keep all that going?

I'm a good juggler. I'll keep all those balls in the air as long as I can. I'm just constantly busy and quite happy with that. But there's a commitment to continue the Big Sugar thing. It's not like we're going to just whip out one album and that'll be it. It'll be an ongoing thing, because it's just so invigorating and so satisfying creatively.