Conventional wisdom might lead people to associate Calgary with dude ranches, oil money and raucous Flames parties — not exactly the formula of tender folk-pop with electronic flourishes. But singer-songwriter Chad Vangaalen (propelled by an intense work ethic and a disregard for his city’s reputation) remains a wildcard in Calgary’s cultural community.

“That’s the thing about growing up in Calgary, you have no expectation to do anything,” said Vangaalen. “I wasn’t surrounded by any community of people; it was just me and a record collection — I was able to do whatever I wanted to.”

Like a lot of adolescents in the early ‘90s, Vangaalen whet his musical fandom with the jazz-laden hip-hop of A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul. The combination of location and musical interest proved to be a stifling obstacle for a teenager whose nascent interest in songwriting had started to mount.

Vangaalen says hip-hop is fairly inaccessible if you want to start making music.

“You can’t afford to buy an 808 [Roland TR-808, a rhythm machine and] some decks,” said Vangaalen. “And you’re a white kid. It’s a bit of a conundrum living it Calgary and saying ‘I can rap!’”

By grade 12, Vangaalen was turned onto bands like Sonic Youth, Shellac and Sebadoh, all of whom exhibited an attractive mix of improvisation and cheaper production values.

“Sebadoh was the first band where I was like, ‘Oh, those guys are totally recording it themselves,’” said Vangaalen. “They couldn’t be paying someone to make them sound that bad.”

This new take on the creation of music coalesced with the passionate work ethic of Vangaalen’s first love: animation. From there, he experimented on a four-track recorder and started performing in Calgary’s avant-garde community.

In 2004, Vangaalen made his debut with Infiniheart, then followed it with 2006’s Skelliconnection. Both albums were culled from eight or nine years of recorded material, chopped down to manageable full-length releases from demos comprised of hundreds of songs. The grainy production of the record mixed with Vangaalen’s disposition toward “hookier” songwriting leaves listeners with a highly-intimate collection of pop songs, further enhanced by their handmade charm.

The catchy vibes continue with Vangaalen’s latest, Soft Airplane. On “Inside the Molecules,” he cycles through a folk-rock groove reminiscent of classic Neil Young before disintegrating the track’s Western leanings into a sparse African percussion. “Cries of the Dead” offers an example of his typical juxtaposition of dreamy pop with dark, death-obsessed lyrics.

Vangaalen’s voice on Soft Airplane settles into a frail falsetto that pairs nicely with his quirky take on folk music. However, Vangaalen wasn’t always comfortable with his vocals.

“It took me a long time to find where my voice was and I kinda denied the high-register for a long time. I thought it sounded horrible,” he said. “Eventually I just realized ‘That’s your voice, dude. You sound like an old woman.’”

Location and indie rock have gone hand-in-hand for a good while, local scenes being a fraternity of sorts for concert bills and collaboration. Portland has Malkmus and Deerhoof. Austin, Texas has Spoon and Okkervil River. Brooklyn has everyone else.

And then there’s Vangaalen — a testament to location being an unnecessary formality when you have an uncompromising work ethic.