Interview: Dez Dare Unveils Video, Speaks the Truth About New LP

When did the germ of the record materialize, and why did you decide to pursue it?

Each record is an extension or progression from the one before, and I don’t plan the concepts too exhaustively. All the albums follow a vague narrative thread of absurdism, existentialism, science, and pet peeves. I am fascinated with the ideas that make humans as an animal tick. When I start looking at an album, I will build a vague concept, with this one being focused mainly around modern life and technology vs. humans.

Musically, I collect riffs like a nesting seagull (I kinda sound like one, right?), and once I have a little time, I lock myself away with the concept and the riffs, and build the songs from the bottom up. This, along with the animated world I am building, is a constant progression. The seed started five years ago, and I am purging and developing each year.

Throughout the making of CHERYL!, did it evolve in any ways you hadn’t expected it would?

There are always surprises, as I write while I record. Obviously, I make music like I do, and that I like, so it will always sound in part like I do. This record became less noisy and more structured than previous records. No strategy behind it. I start and write to suit, so when the songs were forming, they felt more calm than previous audio adventures (and thus) deserved more time and form.

What are you most proud of, in terms of the final product?

I am always super-excited about the full process, from writing and production to design, distribution, and PR. I guess this is why I ended up running labels. It’s good fun! Seeing that final product you made out in the wild is a great feeling.

What do you think this album captures about Dez Dare that your previous records didn’t, or at least didn’t necessarily accentuate or highlight. Or, to put it another way, running with the conceit that Dez Dare is a “punk-rock astronaut,” what new solar systems or galaxies did you explore this time around?

I am always me. You get what you see/hear. Sonically, I spent more time producing sounds before recording them, and bringing more subtlety into the orchestrations and sound. Lyrically, I spent more time thinking about how individuals react in the world versus the way groups do. So I guess it’s more personal and stripped back. Baring more of the bones of the songs.

Along similar lines, is the entire record a “space oddity” of sorts, or at least a conceptual venture into the outer world, given that the title references the death of a supernova?

All concepts I sing about loosely tie into the idea that we are all built from the same stuff. Everything we are comes from stars and the universe; we are a part of this massive ecosystem, and we should find comfort in this knowledge. It also informs the other side of my writing, about the abuses of humans who ignore their place. 

Don’t get me wrong: I am not telling people what to believe. If they want to worship a magical entity that requires donations every Sunday morning, good luck. I just feel if you are looking for something bigger than you to make life feel a little more in control, the concept of us tied into the universe is something that makes infinite sense and doesn’t require financial contributions, and doesn’t expect anything from us. Just requires us to exist.

Who is Cheryl, and why did you decide to make her a focus of the record?

Cheryl is a Casio PT-82 keyboard I bought that came covered in sparkly stickers of the name Cheryl. It sits on my shelf watching over me all day. There is nothing more to it than that. I love old instruments, and finding them online can often feel like an explosion that sinks to darkness … the darkness felt when you realise you didn’t need another fuckin’ Casio!

What was the greatest challenge you faced during the making of the record?

Lyrics and time. Lyrics always take me the longest, finding a quiet space in our house to focus. If those are the worst things I have to deal with, I am doing OK.

Did you feel more relaxed and comfortable exploring your creative ideas to their fullest potential given that you recorded this effort in a studio of your own? What liberties did having your own space grant you?

I have always had parts of my own records in records. In the ’90s and ’00s, I simply couldn’t afford to buy the gear. I recorded a lot of the noise tracks and atmospheric parts at home on four-tracks and then built the rest in a proper studio. I started building my own studio when I started Dez Dare, and it got to a good place build-wise when I started this album.

It’s great when it comes to creativity because when you have a lot of people chiming in who don’t share your vision, it muddies the process and sound. My view is that there shouldn’t be rules when it comes to making art. Aside from a few basics, break stuff, fuck stuff up, do what sounds good, not what you think should be done because that’s what others do. This freedom is hard to find when you don’t have your own studio and are bound by time and financial restraints.

To what extent do you seek out “oddness,” or is it inherent in whatever you create? Which artists have you found express a similar “oddness” to yours, and do you have camaraderie with them?

I don’t try to be weird as much as I try to not be formulaic. Bringing rhythm and sound to a song doesn’t have to be guitar, bass, drums. Use sounds that fit the idea. Build soundscapes that build tension and bring it all back in with fuzz. When thinking of modern rock, there are four records I always discuss that were influences:

1. The Leather Nun’s Slow Death EP: This record blew my mind when I was 15. Never occurred to me you could play a flat-out, fuzzed-up punk song and then drill into a guitar and make weird sounds for 20 minutes in the next–on one record! Brutal!

2. Sonic Youth’s Kill Yr Idols EP: The ability to make something so catchy yet abrasive fascinated me. I had been listening to Dead Kennedys, Violent Femmes, Agent Orange … alternative, yes. Not like this EP. No-wave really grabbed my attention in later years as a (non)movement that should get more credit than it does. New York, New York.

3. Butthole Surfers’ Locust Abortion Technician: What else is there to say? From the moment you hear the intro in “Sweet Loaf” to the bleak and messed-up “22 Going on 23,” it is a master class in mechanical melody and manic frustration. I really wish I had caught them live in the early days.

4. Devo: any of their covers … well, any song. Innovators, ahead of their time. Their covers are masterpieces of deconstruction. I get comparisons a lot, which ain’t too bad. At least I am not being compared to Creed!

As for new bands? Well, loads. To name way too many: Gilla Band, Of Montreal, M(h)aol, Melt-Banana, Osees, and Otoboke Beaver.

Can you share a memory or two about when Dez Dare performed with Fugazi? Are you still in touch with Ian MacKaye?

Technically, I was Darren Dare back in those days with the band Warped! I was 16 and that was a funny gig in an old hall in Geelong (Australia). There were about 200 people (half-full) and loads of the old-school punks didn’t get Fugazi at all.

We played well, and I had to leave. My mum was picking me up when my bandmates were chatting with Ian and with absolute autistic single-mindedness, I said I didn’t have time to say hi as I had to grab my gear and leave. I didn’t even look their way … eyes on the gear! They were all very confused. A good insight into neurodiversity. Don’t fuck with my plan, Ian MacKaye! I was in contact (with him) at one point in the ’00s via (the record label Smallman cofounded with musician Simon Baird) Low Transit Industries to try and license some stuff … never panned out.