Risk-taking pays off for Dan Mangan + Blacksmith
Dan Mangan+Blacksmith
w/ Hayden, Astral Swans
Winspear Centre
March 11
$41.50 (winspearcentre.com)
Artistic evolution is never easy. Leaving the comfort of a genre that’s been your bread and butter for years can be a huge risk for any artist, but despite the risks involved, Dan Mangan has successfully reinvented himself with his newest album, Club Meds. No longer do we see the plaid-wearing, bearded troubadour who stole our hearts with sing-along folk songs. Instead, the listener is faced with a darker, more honest artist, unafraid to take risks in the name of artistic expression. The result of this transformation is the newly dubbed Dan Mangan + Blacksmith.
“This record feels a little bit like the beginning of something,” Mangan says. “Kinda feels like the beginning of a new era in my work and in my life.”
The most visible symbol of Mangan’s “new era” is the addition of “Blacksmith” to his moniker, representing the bandmates he has performed with for years. Changing the name of an established project is definitely a risk, but the group felt it was time for a title that reflected the dynamic of their performance more accurately.
“It just sorta seemed like time,” Mangan notes. “We had been playing together and it felt like a band, but it was just my name on the ticket and just my face in the photographs (and) that got a little bit weird.”
Armed with a new name and a firm group dynamic, Dan Mangan + Blacksmith dove into some of their most risky writing to date. Mangan weaves a poetic lyrical tapestry, exploring personal and societal issues to create the bones of the song. Blacksmith answers Mangan’s lyrical call by adding technical precision and instrumental artistry into the equation.
“I feel like the word (Blacksmith) encompasses a lot of romantic notions of craftsmanship and artistry,” Mangan explains. “It eludes to the way the guys in the band approach music.”
Experimentation runs rampant on their newest album, most notably in the final mixing. Mangan’s vocals are treated like any other instrument, placed in the midst of the guitar, bass, and drums as opposed to in from of them.
“The vocals are more buried than they ever have been, so it’s sorta like they’re these little treasures, you have to hunt for them a little bit.”
The vocal dynamic on Club Meds stands in stark contrast to the mixing done on previous releases like Nice, Nice, Very Nice, and Oh Fortune, where the folksy feel that dominated Mangan’s previous work demanded that vocals be at the forefront of the listening experience. All the instruments work together to make each song a strong group effort, not relying on lyrics to tell stories. Instead, as demonstrated on tracks like “Vessel,” where instead of Mangan’s vocals standing out, they fade into the music, making tracks seem more unified.
“I feel like in honour of this new era and the fact that we’re calling it a band; it makes more sense that vocals are part of the pie, they’re not the icing on top of the pie,” he says.
For an artist who used to be rigidly defined by the singer-songwriter genre, burying vocals could spell disaster. Only an artist who’s confident in the message of his album would take such a risk. Mangan makes repeated remarks to the concept of sedation when speaking about the new record, noting it was the driving force behind much of the writing.
“It can be narcotic thing, but it can also have nothing to do with that,” Mangan states. “It can also just be a sort of willful blindness to one’s own humanity.”
Fans who identified with the feel-good tropes of albums past may be uncertain about the serious tone and sedative influence. But, Club Meds isn’t a pit of critical despair.
“The record isn’t so much about saying everything is screwed and how we failed,” Mangan says. “It’s about saying ‘let’s be honest with ourselves about our feelings because that will help us to find peace’.”
Dan Mangan + Blacksmith’s risk-taking has paid off in the form of newfound sonic textures and unapologetically honest lyrics; effectively reinventing themselves to stay true to the direction they feel the band is heading. Dan Mangan may no longer be the same troubadour fans fell in love with, but those who respect the risks he’s taken will fall in love with his new persona all over again.