The Dears
No Cities Left

THE REVIEW

For some years now, Canada has become the hotbed of the most sought-after and evocative pop. Broken Social Scene, The Destroyer, New Pornographers, Hidden Cameras, The Arcade Fire, Feist are just the first names that come to mind from a scene that has managed to earn, with undeniable merit, a central position in today's music landscape. To find a place equally prolific in pop-oriented talents in recent times, one must go to Scotland between the '80s and '90s. The Dears, from Montreal, are another name to add to this now considerable lineup.

No Cities Left, a work released in 2004, had a long gestation, but, let's say it straight away, judging by the results, the time was certainly not wasted. The "north star" of the Canadian group is the Smiths, and to understand this, there's no need to read the liner notes in which they openly declare their passion for Morrissey's band. But among the most evident references are also Blur of Parklife and Pulp themselves.
The singer and leader Murray Lightburn has a voice similar to that of Albarn, although deeper, and must be an old-fashioned romantic, from "Sturm und Drang," and not just because of the cover inspired by the great painter Friedrich. Indeed, I don't think he would have any qualms about emulating his idol, throwing flowers from the stage at his fans.

Put this way, I realize, it sounds a bit déjà vu; perhaps the orphans, and there are some, of the acclaimed Marr-Morrissey duo might be intrigued, even if just to see if the inspiring model managed to yield the desired fruits. And if the nostalgic fans happened to start with the third track, "Lost In The Plot," the single that served as a forerunner, or "Don't Lose the Faith," they might rub their eyes in amazement or lull themselves in the magnificent illusion of listening to an unreleased track from the Manchester band from the days of "Strangeways Here We Come."
But beware: No Cities Left is not just an album that tries to retrace the most virtuous paths of '80s rock, nor, for that matter, an interesting work of simple yet gifted young epigones. Just listen to "Who Are You, Defenders of Universe" with its "sick" melodies, with almost acidic riffs, with references to Terry Hall's 1980s group, the Colourfield, to realize you are in front of a band that is much more than a successful copy of the Smiths. In "The Second Part," for example, they try, with excellent results, to combine French chanson, we are always in Canada, with pop songs in the style of Neil Hannon (Divine Comedy). Nor are there lacking elements that make the album surprising and full of "windows," offering various and intriguing panoramas. The over 7 minutes of "Expect the worst / 'Cos She's a Tourist (what a title!) start with Michael Nyman-style strings, accompanied by pressing rhythms and choruses, then suddenly turn into a slow, very British ballad and end with almost jazz horns. Or "Pinned Together, Falling Apart" that seems a melodramatic Wyatt, noise in the Soft Machine style included. There are also sunny pop songs, "Never Destroy Us," that turn into psychedelic blues, only to die among krautrock screams. In "Warm and Sunny Day" and "22: the Death of All Romance," the good Murray gives free rein to his more "light" vein, duetting with Yanchak. And it's not over: "Postcard from Purgatory" also quotes the Grace Jones of "Libertango," with a long finale in the Spiritualized style and closes with the title track that returns to make us dream on the banks of the Seine, strings included.

I have always greatly disliked the habit of certain press, especially British, of shouting every three months about the "new best thing," but it's equally wrong not to recognize merits, especially when they are so evident, to prove to be a "tough nut."
The Dears are, unequivocally, one of the most exciting bands listened to over the course of this year and I believe one can bet on their bright future.