Gang of Losers is the new offering from Montreal band, The Dears. As intimate as previous releases, the album features striking lyrics that require careful consideration. The sound is raw yet skilful and classically The Dears. We spoke to Murray Lightburn on the cusp of the album’s Australian release to find out more.
AF: I know you hate being interviewed…is it the feeling of being dissected by a stranger or the possibility of being misrepresented?
ML: No, none of those things. For me it represents the machine behind the music business and the promotion of an image rather than just letting the music be. I don’t know if Van Gogh did interviews with the media, but I can’t imagine what it would be like for someone like Van Gogh to do interviews – I’m not saying I’m Van Gogh or that the Dears are making Van Gogh-esque art. It’s a weird place to be, sitting there talking about something that you’ve made, when in essence what you’ve made is supposed to do the talking. It’s just because we live in this world of technology – if you go back to when they invented the printing press – it creating this huge fucking mess of a world that we’re in now.
AF: It can benefit you though, there’s such potential for it to be a symbiotic relationship.
ML: I’m not saying it’s not valid. On some levels it’s interesting and on some levels it isn’t. I’d say for the most part is ain’t. I was saying to the last guy, what’s difficult on top of the fact that a band has to sit around and talk about what they’ve done, a person in my position within the band I get singled out to do that talking, again creating an image and creating celebrity.
AF: What brought The Dears together?
ML: Like everything in the band, it’s about relationships. I think the people that are in the band and the reason the band stays together is because of those relationships. It’s like a family; it’s like the same dynamic in a family. Except we’re not related by blood, but we are connected by something very deep, that’s as inexplicable as something like blood – it’s the same kind of glue or fabric.
AF: Has that connection been there from the beginning – despite members having come and gone?
ML: Yeh, definitely. People come and go, but there’s a deep connection even though those people aren’t in the band anymore. The person who I started this band with is no longer in the group, but we’re still very, very close and always will be. Probably until we die. There’s been a bit of bitterness but at the same time still a very deep connection. Sometimes that connection gets confused with other shit circumstances and that’s always a shame, but unavoidable.
AF: Do you find the business of music destroys your enjoyment of it a little?
ML: There is a commercial side to what we do.
AF: Which is a reality…
ML: A really unfortunate reality – an extremely unfortunate reality. I wish that there was a better way.
AF: What’s the ideal – how does everyone win?
ML: Well, the ideal would be if we lived in a utopia where everything was free. Where there was no culture of fear and no bullshit. That would be ideal.
AF: You’ve described the new album as a “raw affair." Can you expand on this?
ML: We left a lot of stuff that could have been polished, unpolished. Me and Natalia bought a house in September and when we got there there was some left over 70s flavour from the old Greek lady. The steps and the hallway was covered in this really unfortunate carpet, so I spent a couple days ripping up this carpet, because there must have been like, ten thousand staples that they must have used to put in this piece of carpet. Underneath was this wood staircase – totally old school, totally original staircase and it was fucking beautiful. There’s something about that staircase, I could easily sand it down and re finish it, but I’ve grown to really dig it the way it is. There’s a certain aspect to the album that’s like that. We kind of deconstructed the band a little bit and started to build it back up in a kind of unpolished way, although we maintain a certain level of musicianship. The production of it threw some people back when we played it for the record label.
AF: Does it feel more naturally The Dears?
ML: Yes, definitely. It’s where we are right now. Something happens when you go on tour and you play 200 shows a year, you start cutting out a lot of bullshit and you start to realise, what do you need this for?
AF: Did you write material for the album with that in mind?
ML: Umm…I don’t think so. We’re not that calculated. We rehearsed a lot, and we knew what we wanted to do and everything else happened. It’s like – and I said this in another interview, but whatever I don’t give a fuck, it works - you organise a party, you have your guests, you go to the store you get your chips, your vodka and your fucking cake or whatever the fuck your having at the party and then you have all these people come over. You take the steps to organise the party, you’ve called up people, you’ve said come at this time, the party starts at 7.30…it’s kind of like that. Because after that, whatever happens, happens it’s a party. You could say at 8.30 we’re playing pin the tail on the donkey and then at 9.37 we’re going to eat some finger food, 10 we’re going to play spin the bottle etc. Obviously it’s not a very fun party. So there was a definite a level of organisation before hand and then letting the chips fall where they may.
AF: How do avoid letting criticism from fans and media effect how you approach new albums?
ML: It’s not hard to block it out, because when you’re in it, you’re in it. That stuff only comes up when your sitting around bored off your ass and people tell you and then you’re like fuck – that article sucks.
AF: But it still pisses you off?
ML: Well, yes it does. I’m a sensitive person. The thing is, doing what we do, it’s not like we necessarily signed up to be criticised. The machine dictates that there needs to be critics, because if they’re not doing that, they’re jerking off – well they’re jerking off anyway. It’s employment. That’s the good thing about the Internet, is that it’s making that whole thing less important. There are certain critics who are basically fucking divas and it’s about them and they have to be more important than what they’re talking about. Which is a sad, small existence. And then there’s people who actually know what there talking about. Which I respect. I do respect the review that actually get into the nooks and crannies of what’s going on on a record, but that’s very few and far between. And even good reviews, when you read something too gushing, you’re like wow – that person doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about, but whatever, I’ll take it.
AF: So it’s the ignorance that bothers you?
ML: Nine times out of ten the review is completely full of shit and I can only hope that people find music and find The Dears on their own.
AF: You talk of song writing as being a very personal and disarming process, does this then make it even more difficult to move through the collaborative process of recording?
ML: It’s interesting because when you write a song and you present it to a group of people that you work with – it’s like anything else you make a presentation – you’ve got to make your case. We’ll be working on a particular song and we’ll record it in demo form and after listening to it a few times everyone will be like maybe we should do it this way, or that way. It’s actually a really welcoming part of the whole process I find.
AF: Has becoming a father changed you as a musician?
ML: No.
AF: Really, that's surprising...
ML: No.
AF: Well, there goes that question…
ML: Well, I can elaborate. It’s definitely had an effect on me as a human being. As a musician? It’s weird because as a musician, no. As a writer? Maybe. Because as a writer and as a an artist, doing what we do, you’re talking about life and about the world; you’re expressing things that are cosmic and observational etc. so obviously there is a certain personal element involved so when that happens priorities shift. But – did it have an effect on this album, on some levels yes – a few levels. But on the most part, no.
AF: So musically no, but lyrically maybe?
ML: Well even then, I think I was only able to add it in to what was already going on. Because a lot of this album has to do with fate, here this new life comes in and it’s like, well what about this. Here’s a fresh path – what is the fate of this being. Which is what Ticket To Immortality is mostly about. That song was kicking around and kind of spinning its wheels and then when me and Natalia found out about the baby suddenly that song found its way. It’s kind of talking about where things could’ve been, where things actually are and hopes for where things could go. And then it didn’t have a title and I was out one night and I was showing off pictures of the baby and this guy was like, “Wow man, now you’ve got two tickets to immortality.” He was referring to what we do with The Dears, and he was also referring to this baby. So I said, “I’m going to steal that if you don’t mind.”
AF: How do you feel about music outside of The Dears?
ML: For the most part, I hate it. I hate almost all indie rock, guitar oriented indie rock. It’s fucking boring. And you know what, I could probably throw The Dears into that category. Well, I mean we’re trying to do something different. It goes back again to image being more important. So right now record companies are cashing in on this style and everybody’s walking around with thrift store clothes and a floppy haircut and everybody’s so fucking cool.
AF: What inspires you?
ML: The quest for truth, the quest for peace and the quest for love. Anything else is just bullshit.
Gang of Losers, is out on the 26th of August through Speak n Spell Records. To win yourself a copy of the album (complete with Australia only bonus disc) email us at comps@lifelounge.com and convince us that you're the biggest Dears fan around.