In 1844, U.S. presidential candidate James K. Polk successfully ran on the slogan "54-40 or Fight," an angry threat to annex B.C.

In 1978, two B.C. high school students, Neil Osborne and Brad Merritt, learned about it at school while trading guitar licks in the basement. Two years later, dubbing themselves 54-40, they embarked on the road to becoming one of Canada's most resilient bands.

Although 54-40 are touring their latest album Since When at Barrymore's on Monday night, the band is letting fans choose the playlist through their official website. The selections are bound to cover the vast history the band has built over the past two decades.

And, to steal a phrase, what a long, strange trip it's been.

After high school, Osborne headed to Boston's prestigious Berklee School of Music to learn jazz. But his infatuation with fusion was short lived and he dropped out to rejoin Merritt in Vancouver.

Enraptured by local punk rockers like D.O.A., Osborne and Merritt gathered a few friends and started a band. But the punk scene was tight-knit and it proved hard to get 54-40 out of the suburbs.

The focal point of the underground scene at the time was the Smilin' Buddha Cabaret where D.O.A. was the house band. But on New Year's Eve '81, D.O.A. held their own concert in a nearby hall.

"It was completely sold out and no other band would go against them because everyone wanted to be at the D.O.A. show," says lead crooner Osborne over the phone from Vancouver.

"So we were, like, nobody and we got offered the (Buddha) gig. It was six bucks to get in and it included a roast beef dinner. Half the crowd was street people ... and the other half was people who couldn't get into the D.O.A. show."

That show proved so instrumental in 54-40's career they later bought the bar's 600-lb. neon sign and named an album after it.

They made important connections from that show and soon released a six-song EP and then their debut LP Set The Fire.

The 1983 album led to a number of out-of-town gigs, including an opening performance in San Francisco for Public Image Ltd. -- Johnny Rotten's post-Sex Pistols outfit.

"That was an awesome show," says Osborne, chuckling to himself. "We only got to play six songs but we were just thrilled to see Public Image more than anything, to be on the same stage as them."

The band continued their frequent trips down the California coast, sparking major label interest and a serious identity crisis.

"Because of our roots, and the roots of the scene, it ended up being very political. Record companies were nothing but evil and it was a total sellout to even consider that. So we were a bit confused. But at the same time we were very broke."

Their big break came after a sold-out showcase in L.A when a couple A&R reps from Warner Bros. couldn't get in. So they flew up to Vancouver to see 54-40 and quickly signed the band.

In '86 Warner released the Green Album, a record the band had recorded independently.

"They got a whole slew of new young bands and basically it was the same old story, throw it against the wall and see what sticks. And apparently we didn't stick."

After the next couple albums failed to meet expectations down south, 54-40 were dropped from the label in 1990, despite the popularity they were building in Canada.

They signed to Sony the next year and released Dear, Dear an album that did relatively well. But it was their 1994 follow up Smilin' Buddha Cabaret -- a record comprised almost exclusively of demos -- that re-re-invigorated the band artistically and commercially.

In 1995, Hootie and the Blowfish covered I Go Blind from their first Warner album which ended up on an episode of Friends. "Honestly, I think it sounds exactly like ours except a different singer. But I feel a little bit vindicated because I asked Warner if they would release it as a single (in '86) and they wouldn't."

Since then, the band has continued releasing platinum albums and touring incessantly through Canada, content to leave the U.S. to James K. Polk and the Barenaked Ladies.