No Famous Death – Dark Joy

What does it take to be original? For the artistically minded, that is one of the greatest goals to achieve, yet also perhaps the most unattainable. Indeed, every day that passes it gets harder and harder for absolute originality to be realised. In the realm of current music, the well accepted belief is that there is nothing new anymore, it is all a rehash of something that came before it. This statement does hold perhaps more truth then fabrication, but still, there are ways around it. For example, on first inspection, No Famous Death and their album Dark Joy, is comparable to a lot of sounds if they were corrected with an IF…Mumford & Sons IF they were much less overblown, Neutral Milk Hotel IF they were more sane, Sufjan Stevens IF he were less lofty and conceptual…but when it comes down to it, Dark Joy is a surprisingly individualistic work. Maybe not startlingly new, but still, individual.

No Famous Death are a Canadian trio who describe their music as “the equivalent of sitting in a cold vinyl chair without a shirt on”. As difficult and peculiar as this statement might be to imagine, there are some kernels of logic in it. For example No Famous Death’s second album Dark Joy contains a humble and pretty charm that recalls the comfort of walking around on a sunny day, but also possesses a certain ramshackle mystery that is akin to that sunny day becoming cloudy and windy. You might not hear a more classic and simple chord progression this year than the one found on Tiny Succulent Array, but what is that constant whirring sound? Are they sleigh bells I hear? Why should I “fuck your tiny succulent arrays” in such a polite manner as it is being suggested to me?

Musically, Dark Joy swings between simplistic indie-folk and minute expressions of inventiveness. Although this may seem derisive, it actually equates to a very mellow album full of subtle textures and tones. For eample, The Shins-wannabe track God has a fervent saxophone solo buried so deep in the mix that it actually becomes even more appealing. Stay Cruel churns along in subdued fire that could be adequately likened to the nice quiet kid in your high school class trying to be angry. The brief tracks like Eric Fell Off The Roof and I’ve Only Got One Friend deliver their pleasures efficiently AND confusingly.

While a great deal of the album’s charm lies in its spindly musicality, it is lyrically where the album really glows. Treading the line between sincere and peyote-influenced (“You see a man lying in the peanut hay/Reciting little pledges of allegiance”), Dark Joy incites maybe not a trip, but a sightseeing bus ride through little vignettes of whimsy and audience. “Follow your heart, hunt it down, make it pay” is a line that is offered to us, and one that perfectly encapsulates the love/hate relationship we all have with…well, love. Little snippets of pop culture are referenced here and there, including light digs at Morrissey and his personality (“You turned me into Morrissey, and now I don’t even like girls…and now I love everything that moves”), hat-tips to Dan Fielding, the lecherous prosecutor from 1980s court drama Night Court, and even the resigned realisation that our lead vocalist Steve Rusling will “be the same age as Little Wayne forever”. It is this kind of eclectic lyricism that gives much of Dark Joy its charm.

While it could be argued that No Famous Death are knowingly wishing to sound a little odd just for the sake of being noticed and accepted among the indie crowd (a la Mac DeMarco…also the video for Stay Cruel desperately wants to go viral), Dark Joy possesses enough intrigue and cleverness to both be a part of the main wave as well as possibly its own thing. It is charming and noice, and it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Where is that vinyl chair?