And now, a statement from the Canadian Indie-Rock Tourism Department: as the dog days of the season turn Toronto into something more akin to a sweaty asphalt dogfight, it’s the time many folks make a hasty exit.

Let’s say you were itching to ditch T.O. but nervous about the prospect of missing out on all the awesome music that seems to propagate, spore-like, all over this city in the summer months. Calgary should be tops on your list. I say this not because I have some lingering post-Junos boner for Cowtown, nor because I really dig beef or 10-gallon hats. Based on the insanely creative sounds coming out of Alberta’s largest city, Calgary is looking ripe for intellectual colonization by the next wave of fans and pundits hoping to pinpoint Canada’s next indie-rock hotspot.

Pitchfork already issued a dull roar of anticipation for hiss-and-crackle-loving Calgarians Women, who share a label (Flemish Eye) with golden boy Chad VanGaalen. But my vote for the city’s No. 1 emissary of independent music and culture is one Mark Hamilton, the ridiculously prolific man behind the sprawling collective Woodpigeon, who have not one but two really great albums slated for release in the near-ish future.

 “Calgary’s so expensive that the only way you own something is if you create something imaginary,” he sighs. “There was no pre-existing culture for us, really, so we had to make it up. And since no artists can afford houses here, we had to basically build an imaginary castle that’s based on music and art.”

Hamilton’s already played cultural ambassador to the world — Woodpigeon recently came off the second of two European tours within the last year and have been invited to head back across the Atlantic in the fall with new BFFs Calexico, who they’ll open for at the Mod Club on Sunday (July 6). It’s hard to figure out where he found the time to write and record a pair of totally unique and equally charming discs.

One is a collection of beautifully arranged, intricate pop that Hamilton and his bandmates are releasing themselves, called Treasury Library Canada. “When I was a kid, my parents would buy books in the mail — you know, like Encyclopedia Canadiana, and those Reader’s Digest abridged versions of, like, Jane Eyre. I liked the idea that they were books that would stay on the shelf for years, with nobody really reading them. They were almost books for show. And then when you’re 30, you open them up and realize they’re awesome.”

Hence the title of the album, which Hamilton claims is a “scrappy little brother” to the epic, ambitious Die Stadt Muzikanten, his “big statement” record. If you’re at all familiar with Woodpigeon’s gently whimsical early orch-pop songs, you’ll understand what a major progression it is to hear the handful of muscular, imposing, angry tracks on the new disc.
“We were experimenting with things we’ve never done anymore,” offers Hamilton, who’s currently shopping around for a North American label. On top of, y’know, sustaining Woodpigeon and his sorta-side project, the poppier Spreepark, Hamilton is also involved in organizing Calgary’s just-finished and fab Sled Island festival (along with festival director Zack Pashak).

 “I get to do an amazing thing: I write lists of bands that are great, then people go and book them, and then I go in and match local artists with international ones. I knew the Neighbourhood Council’s favourite band was Deerhunter, so it was great to put them together, and they’re now planning to tour the US together. Last year, I got to put Jane Vain in front of her hero, Cat Power, and this year, Raccoon opened for Okkervil River.”

Not that he’s entirely altruistic. This year, Hamilton matched himself and Woodpigeon with his beloved Grizzly Bear. They played a massive church, which sounds like a dream come true.
 “The scene does seem to be taking off. My friend in Edmonton claims everyone there is jealous of how connected the Calgary scene is. Even if you don’t like each other’s music, there’s this mutual support and respect that’s really incredible.”