4/5
Britpop mixed with bombast to dramatic effect by Montreal visionariesWho would have predicted that the most thrilling and inventive ‘British’ album of the year would in fact be delivered by a Montreal aesthete and his band? Had anyone in Britain actually known The Dears, would they have bet on the corpse of Britpop being reanimated and reconfigured by frontman Murray Lightburn, a cocksure Dickensian styled rogue who looks like he has gone ten rounds with life and been knocked down in each? Would they have even dared to suggest that this palest of white boy’s music could be (whisper it) hijacked by a black dilettante? (Name one black so-called Britpop band and maybe that last statement will carry less weight than it sadly does.)
The Dears are all about breaking conventions, and when you’re taking on the sacred cows of indie-pop, you’d better be as good as you think you are. The Dears take as their touchstones The Smiths and mid ‘90s Blur, a doubly dangerous thing to do when Lightburn’s vocals recall both Morrissey and Damon Albarn. Fortunately The Dears are frequently even better than they believe, for the most part able to outrun these ghosts and bust through the structural constraints their influences impose, seemingly fearless in their pursuit of music of true pathos, gravity and swagger. This is literate stuff, make no mistake, and it’s all the better for it.
From the outset it’s clear that Lightburn’s intentions are precocious, crediting himself here as sole writer, producer and director. It’s his role as “director” – in the cinematic sense – that sets No Cities Left apart, as he seeks to create a record that carries a narrative without becoming a turgid concept album. At times The Dears do suffer from the weight of their inspirations – “Lost In The Plot” sounds worryingly like Gene – and, were this album the film it dreams of, then it would benefit from an intermission. But at its finest – “Pinned Together, Falling Apart”’s blood curdling denials of lost love, “Never Destroy Us” hurtling towards its unexpected and desperate denouement, the spine-tingling dub of “Postcard From Purgatory” – No Cities Left is an exhilarating example of what happens when Britpop is unchained from the kitchen sink and given real drama to contend with.
Q&A
Murray Lightburn on The Dears’ plans for world domination…
UNCUT: Ever worry that you’re bringing coals to Newcastle?
LIGHTBURN: To be honest, that’s a little bit of a bullshit question. I’d like to think The Dears bring more to the table. Maybe we’re trying to lure the English in with something familiar. Once we’ve nabbed a few, they’ll go along with whatever we do in the future. Perhaps our next record will be our ‘Back To Africa’ phase and we’ll all be wearing dashikis and playing bongos like Damon fucking Albarn. We could do that everywhere until we dominate the world. Seriously, when it comes to rock music, what is English or American or Canadian? It all came from some niggers in the Southern US, anyway. Go back a little further and it was African slaves. It’s all fucked now, don’t you see?
Did you include the ‘a’ in Dears like the ‘a’ in Beatles?
Shoot us if we did.
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