The Dears
Here is a sneak peek at the article I wrote regarding Montreal's The Dears. This will appear in the forthcoming Big Takeover magazine for which I write:
THE DEARS
Love Letters From Gehenna
by Paul V. Regelbrugge
From the perspective of experience, why is it that idealism too often sounds naïve, even delusional? Where youth yearns for peace, love and understanding, such aspirations are readily dismissed, “ah, they are young … foolish.” Where middle-aged people demand justice and advocate social and environmental reform and anti-war concerns they are branded zany liberals; head in the clouds dreamers divorced from reality.
Montreal’s The Dears espouse a romanticism and idealism at times informed, and at others annihilated by nihilism. This uneasy tension is played out in their records, on which beauty and melody collide headfirst with the very death of romance and the end of the world. Such clash sometimes results in a complete chaos that sounds as if The Dears are angrily daring the listener to invade they space they are making. Singer/songwriter MURRAY LIGHTBURN’s battlefield is as emotional as it is global. And yet, for all their life and death defying sincerity, The Dears have been patronized by some as pretentious.
“I can’t be bothered with that shit,” scoffed Lightburn in our recent interview. “That’s completely off the mark. Is it pretentious to mean it? Would people only take us seriously if we say nothing challenging, wear the same leather jackets and play the same old riffs already said and done?”
Lightburn confesses that he was in a very dark place, personally, during the writing of their first record, End of a Hollywood Bedtime Story (Grena). Conversely, in light of the increasingly “grim” circumstances in our world, his inward focus changed somewhat to a more global one on the brilliant No Cities Left, released in Canada in 2003 on Universal, and finally in the States on Spinart.
There is nothing passive whatsoever about No Cities Left. The songs arrest the listener, trying him/her before juries pooled on the verge of destruction, amidst the end of the world itself, and finally, within the ensuing reconstruction. “What we want is gone for good,” sings Lightburn on the breathtaking opener and single, “We Can Have It,” “somewhere someone says they’ve got it all, but that’s not even what we want, not even close, it won’t ever be what we want.” Sure, it is cinematic, film noir as some have said, but Lightburn’s struggles to harness an inner rage and forge beauty and hope makes for exciting, often jaw-dropping fare regardless of how long he succeeds in keeping the demons at bay in any one song.
“It’s as if we are programmed to be so aggressive, but we don’t have to be that way,” said Lightburn. “I’m trying every day to fight that side of me. I don’t want to be angry. Rather than useless acts like standing in front of the White House with picket signs, if everybody in every interaction with everyone just tried to do quiet little things, like respecting others and not judging them…. The next time someone asks you on the streets for money, don’t presume you know that he is going to spend it on booze. Respect him; judge not. If all of us acted in such a way, just think what a humongous difference we could make in the world.” Even so, Lightburn is hardly naïve about such aspirations. “I know there is doubt we can do this,” he sings on “Who Are You, Defenders of the Universe?”, “but I can help you.”
As stunning as is No Cities Left, the 2004 Juno-nominated (Canada’s equivalent of the Grammy’s) Dears are even more captivating live. Featuring drummer GEORGE DONOSO III’s Keith Moon-inspired fills and energy; the pretty keyboardists NATALIA YANCHAK (also vocals) and VALERIE JODOIN-KEATON (also flute); efficient bassist MARTIN PELLAND; and newest member PATRICK KRIEF, a guitar phenom who brings so much more to the table, particularly on a monstrous song like “Pinned Together, Falling Apart,” the group colors in spades the sometimes tortured and at others enraptured toils of multi-instrumentalist singer Lightburn. In all, The Dears are as visually striking as they are sonically brilliant.
And they are also relentlessly touring. Having played coast to coast and back again across the ridiculously vast Canada for No Cities Left in 2003, they turned their attention in 2004 and to start 2005 in the U.S. and Europe. In doing so, Lightburn has been appalled to confront the age-old dilemma of longstanding fans mourning the increasingly widespread acceptance, if not popularity of their favorite little cult band. One major Canadian music publication, ChartAttack bemoaned: “It’s a bit sad to see our fave band releasing No Cities Left (and touring) throughout Europe (and the U.S.) – it’s kind of like having a really talented friend who suddenly starts getting the attention of people you don’t know … and inevitably you end up reminiscing about some stupid story on (VH1’s) Behind The Music.” “I just don’t get that,” sighed Lightburn. “You’d think they’d be happy for us.”
Having been weaned on The Smiths and Britpop wonders Blur, Lightburn’s music easily distances The Dears from their inspirations, notwithstanding certain vocal similarities between Lightburn and Morrissey and Damon Albarn. Indeed, the U.S. version of No Cities Left omits the one song that undeniably does resemble the jangly, crooning magnificence of The Smiths at their best, “Don’t Lose The Faith.” Moreover, any such comparisons foolishly ignore The Dears’ more orchestral, rebellious and, ultimately, intense music. “Influences must be outgrown, idols must be killed,” says Lightburn. Nevertheless, Lightburn and The Dears were positively thrilled to have had the opportunity last fall to support Morrissey in Toronto. Asked if he was afforded the chance to meet and hang out with the Mozzer, Lightburn laughed: “Well, I did meet him and it was just incredible to observe him throughout the day. But you don’t just hang with Morrissey. He is, after all, Morrissey.”
Love Letters From Gehenna
by Paul V. Regelbrugge
From the perspective of experience, why is it that idealism too often sounds naïve, even delusional? Where youth yearns for peace, love and understanding, such aspirations are readily dismissed, “ah, they are young … foolish.” Where middle-aged people demand justice and advocate social and environmental reform and anti-war concerns they are branded zany liberals; head in the clouds dreamers divorced from reality.
Montreal’s The Dears espouse a romanticism and idealism at times informed, and at others annihilated by nihilism. This uneasy tension is played out in their records, on which beauty and melody collide headfirst with the very death of romance and the end of the world. Such clash sometimes results in a complete chaos that sounds as if The Dears are angrily daring the listener to invade they space they are making. Singer/songwriter MURRAY LIGHTBURN’s battlefield is as emotional as it is global. And yet, for all their life and death defying sincerity, The Dears have been patronized by some as pretentious.
“I can’t be bothered with that shit,” scoffed Lightburn in our recent interview. “That’s completely off the mark. Is it pretentious to mean it? Would people only take us seriously if we say nothing challenging, wear the same leather jackets and play the same old riffs already said and done?”
Lightburn confesses that he was in a very dark place, personally, during the writing of their first record, End of a Hollywood Bedtime Story (Grena). Conversely, in light of the increasingly “grim” circumstances in our world, his inward focus changed somewhat to a more global one on the brilliant No Cities Left, released in Canada in 2003 on Universal, and finally in the States on Spinart.
There is nothing passive whatsoever about No Cities Left. The songs arrest the listener, trying him/her before juries pooled on the verge of destruction, amidst the end of the world itself, and finally, within the ensuing reconstruction. “What we want is gone for good,” sings Lightburn on the breathtaking opener and single, “We Can Have It,” “somewhere someone says they’ve got it all, but that’s not even what we want, not even close, it won’t ever be what we want.” Sure, it is cinematic, film noir as some have said, but Lightburn’s struggles to harness an inner rage and forge beauty and hope makes for exciting, often jaw-dropping fare regardless of how long he succeeds in keeping the demons at bay in any one song.
“It’s as if we are programmed to be so aggressive, but we don’t have to be that way,” said Lightburn. “I’m trying every day to fight that side of me. I don’t want to be angry. Rather than useless acts like standing in front of the White House with picket signs, if everybody in every interaction with everyone just tried to do quiet little things, like respecting others and not judging them…. The next time someone asks you on the streets for money, don’t presume you know that he is going to spend it on booze. Respect him; judge not. If all of us acted in such a way, just think what a humongous difference we could make in the world.” Even so, Lightburn is hardly naïve about such aspirations. “I know there is doubt we can do this,” he sings on “Who Are You, Defenders of the Universe?”, “but I can help you.”
As stunning as is No Cities Left, the 2004 Juno-nominated (Canada’s equivalent of the Grammy’s) Dears are even more captivating live. Featuring drummer GEORGE DONOSO III’s Keith Moon-inspired fills and energy; the pretty keyboardists NATALIA YANCHAK (also vocals) and VALERIE JODOIN-KEATON (also flute); efficient bassist MARTIN PELLAND; and newest member PATRICK KRIEF, a guitar phenom who brings so much more to the table, particularly on a monstrous song like “Pinned Together, Falling Apart,” the group colors in spades the sometimes tortured and at others enraptured toils of multi-instrumentalist singer Lightburn. In all, The Dears are as visually striking as they are sonically brilliant.
And they are also relentlessly touring. Having played coast to coast and back again across the ridiculously vast Canada for No Cities Left in 2003, they turned their attention in 2004 and to start 2005 in the U.S. and Europe. In doing so, Lightburn has been appalled to confront the age-old dilemma of longstanding fans mourning the increasingly widespread acceptance, if not popularity of their favorite little cult band. One major Canadian music publication, ChartAttack bemoaned: “It’s a bit sad to see our fave band releasing No Cities Left (and touring) throughout Europe (and the U.S.) – it’s kind of like having a really talented friend who suddenly starts getting the attention of people you don’t know … and inevitably you end up reminiscing about some stupid story on (VH1’s) Behind The Music.” “I just don’t get that,” sighed Lightburn. “You’d think they’d be happy for us.”
Having been weaned on The Smiths and Britpop wonders Blur, Lightburn’s music easily distances The Dears from their inspirations, notwithstanding certain vocal similarities between Lightburn and Morrissey and Damon Albarn. Indeed, the U.S. version of No Cities Left omits the one song that undeniably does resemble the jangly, crooning magnificence of The Smiths at their best, “Don’t Lose The Faith.” Moreover, any such comparisons foolishly ignore The Dears’ more orchestral, rebellious and, ultimately, intense music. “Influences must be outgrown, idols must be killed,” says Lightburn. Nevertheless, Lightburn and The Dears were positively thrilled to have had the opportunity last fall to support Morrissey in Toronto. Asked if he was afforded the chance to meet and hang out with the Mozzer, Lightburn laughed: “Well, I did meet him and it was just incredible to observe him throughout the day. But you don’t just hang with Morrissey. He is, after all, Morrissey.”
posted by Paul V. Regelbrugge at 8:01 PM
1 Comments:
knowing Paul's excellent taste in music and the passion in his writing, i must make the Dears a priority to pick up. Montreal seems to be picking up momentum with its bustling indie scene.
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