“The lyrics came out about love, loss, and death. They’re the most poignant feelings anyone can have,” says White Lies drummer Jack Lawrence-Brown over the phone from Germany, where the band are in the midst of a sold-out European tour.
2009 has been a whirlwind year for the West London trio, whose album To Lose My Life, a gloomy collection of post-punk anthems, has taken the British album charts by storm. While the aforementioned subject matter is astonishingly dreary, White Lies have turned their obsession with death into a wave of hype that’s seen them become one of the most hotly tipped bands in the world.
Call it melodrama if you will, but in times of global crisis, gloom-rock is overdue for a comeback.
White Lies currently lead the charge, though they haven’t always been so unhappy. The trio came together in their teenage years, learning different musical styles as they went along. “We grew up together—we lived really close to each other in London. We decided it would be fun to start a band, really just to learn how to play our instruments,” says Lawrence-Brown.
They called themselves Fear of Flying, and during their early years released a collection of bright, funky singles that never garnered much attention in their native land. Frustrated with their lack of success, they regrouped and decided to alter their musical vision in favour of something darker.
“Fear of Flying wasn’t really going anywhere, and we’d lost a lot of love for it. Once we decided to let that go, we wrote a new song, [which] we realized was something different and it deserved its own vehicle. We felt like we needed a change.”
The song that altered their course was “Unfinished Business,” which opens with an ominous funeral organ that rises to a propulsive chorus. Singer Harry McVeigh conjures shades of Macbeth as he wails, “You’ve got blood on your hands, and I know it’s mine.”
Though bassist Charles Cave is responsible for the lyrics, Lawrence-Brown notes that the band aim to write about universal themes.
“He wanted to write lyrics that dealt with personal emotions, but they’re emotions that everyone can relate to. We wanted the songs to have a timeless quality about them.”
I suggest that while the subject matter may be dark, the hook-laden music is very uplifting. Lawrence-Brown immediately gushes, “I’m really glad you said that. There’s a storytelling feel to the songs that has been lost in recent years. I don’t think many bands try to tell stories or do something poetic with their music.”
While McVeigh’s baritone and refined British accent have drawn standard lazy comparisons to Joy Division’s Ian Curtis, Lawrence-Brown laments that White Lies have been likened to “loads of British bands from the early 80s. Bands who existed long before we were born. It gets frustrating when people say we’re influenced by bands like that when we definitely aren’t. But if we’re successful, maybe people will start comparing new bands to us.”
Should White Lies singles continue to chart, he may very well be right. Lead single “Death” is a slow-burning confession of fear that ascends into a power chord-driven menace that’s gothic in a traditional sense (more Edgar Allen Poe, less My Chemical Romance). “It takes about four and a half minutes to before it really kicks in. The song is constantly evolving, building slowly, and it’s a really uplifting song, though it takes a long time to get there.”
The wall of shimmering guitars makes “A Place to Hide” another highlight, as McVeigh reaches out to a loved one during an approaching Armageddon.
The hyper-emotional material, coupled with the massive chart success, has given way to a critical backlash in which their authenticity has been called into question. Marc Hogan’s haughty Pitchfork review claims the band lack emotional intensity, closing with the immortal line, “White Lies are boring and stuff.” Talk about insightful criticism.
But Lawrence-Brown refutes the allegations, saying, “It used to really bug us, but you can tell them 100 times a day that it’s genuine, and they still won’t believe you. If you take those kinds of things too personally, it’s soul-destroying. We know that the album we made was the most genuine, honest thing that we’ve ever done in our lives. If people don’t believe in it—that’s not our problem.”
“In a sadistic sort of way, it’s fun to see everyone either love us, or hate us. I quite like that we’re splitting opinion. Maybe seeing our live show would help people’s interpretation of how genuine it is, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t keep us awake at night.”
Like any great band, White Lies have their haters. But given how quickly their Lee’s Palace show has sold out, it’s likely that when they finally fire up the church organs on North American soil, they’ll be preaching to the choir.
White Lies play Lee’s Palace (529 Bloor Street West) March 31 with Friendly Fires. Tickets are sold out.
