I make a mental note to remember Tony Dekker’s constant fidgeting, tracing his fingers around the staples that hold a piece of plastic to cover the table he sits at. He circles them, he pinches them. He does all this ungracefully and nervously. He appears so tense, exhausted, perhaps even wired; truly the mastermind behind folk-pop collective Great Lake Swimmers is a unique man. He is hesitant about the interview and his answers are very short, to the point – rarely does he make eye contact.
The lanky, bearded songwriter and his band are up for the Polaris Prize (the winner of which is to be announced at a gala on September 21) with their dreamy, melancholy fourth full-length album, Lost Channels. The album has received almost uniformly positive reviews and it is not difficult to understand why; the gentle, hyper-melodic folk of Lost Channels buoyed by Dekker’s hushed voice and wistful lyrics is easily evocative of the simple, lulling songs of Iron and Wine.
When asked about his thoughts on the Polaris nomination, Dekker’s response is largely ambivalent, “It’s a huge honor, of course. It’s the one award that’s not based entirely on record sales, or popularity or whatever. I don’t even know what it’s based on; it’s a critic’s award. It’s obviously not the reason why we’re doing it, we didn’t get into music to win these kinds of awards and it’s great to be included. It’s nice to be invited to the party, I guess, but it’s not the end of the world if we don’t win, by any stretch of the imagination.”
As for the album itself, Lost Channels was recorded largely in the Thousand Islands region of Eastern Ontario and as Dekker illustrates, was a rather unique recording project, even for Great Lake Swimmers, who are known for utilizing interesting and expansive spaces for their recording process.
“In the Thousand Islands, we were sort of shown around by this guy named Ian Coristine, he’s a photographer of the region, he’s published three or four books entirely of photographs of the Thousand Islands region. He heard us originally on the Stewart McLean show. We played on the Vinyl Café in Gananoque and this gentleman called Ian Coristine heard us on the show and gave us an open invitation to get out and explore the region a bit more, Gananoque being in the Thousand Islands.
“So when it came time to think about locations to record our album, which has become a really important part of the process for us, we got in touch with Ian who was able to point us in the direction of some interesting, unique spaces in the Thousand Islands, most notably St. Brendan the Navigator, a church in Rockport, Ontario which is a beautiful little church that overlooks the St. Lawrence River. Sort of at the top of a rock cliff with a big statue on the edge of it. It’s a really, really cool place.“
However, as Pitchfork points out in their review of Lost Channels, while “Some fuss has been made over the exotic locales where the album was put to tape… the real story here is what was recorded and how well it all comes together”.
True enough. While it is all well and good to discuss the usual press points of interest, as surely setting up recording equipment in castles and grain silos is very noteworthy, it is entirely moot if the finished product is not one that reflects its charming back story. Dekker’s recounting of his time in the Thousand Islands was in fact the most lengthy response he gave me, he recalled very fondly the recording of Lost Channels and this made it very clear how personal the record has become for him. I must admit that I was not immediately sold on Lost Channels; if I’m speaking frankly, I thought it to be rather dull, sensitive-singer-songwriter folk without any particular edge. However, the album grew on me, with its subtleties revealing themselves to me over a period of time and I came to realize a very accomplished and special album that is as haunting as it is intimate.
As Dekker explains, “The album was an extension of themes that we’ve been working on for the three previous albums. Stuff like finding a spirituality in the natural world, there’s a lot of things about the passage of time on this record.
“We were I think able to capture a bit of the feel of that place and also musically, lyrically and acoustically capture what the Thousand Islands is, or at least what it means to us. We were really inspired by the whole region.”
The album certainly has a feeling of expanse despite its delicate and gentle delivery, it is music that is completely fitting in with its origins – while listening to many of the songs, it is extremely easy to imagine Dekker sitting on a dock with his guitar quietly strumming, looking pensively out to the water. Dekker is clearly a very deliberate and confident songwriter; he obviously takes his craft seriously and has no trouble at all stringing wonderful turns of phrase to his unexpectedly hummable melodies. I asked him about his songwriting process and not surprisingly, Dekker’s way of approaching new material is as organic as the end product would suggest.
“I don’t go for anything in particular. I just sort of let the song itself guide the way. For me, every song is written differently, I don’t really have a formula, any tried and true approach to writing a song. I think that once an idea is sparked, it can be rhythmic, it can be lyrical or musical, and once that idea is sparked I think that it’s most important to just follow that idea to whatever sort of creative end that it leads to. Some people have methods for writing songs, but I don’t really have one. I think it’s different all the time.
“Being a Canadian songwriter, one of the great guiding lights is, as a lyricist, definitely Leonard Cohen. I’ve been a great fan of his for many years and I think that he’s just such a great, amazing shining light in Canadian music. I would say that if I had to narrow it down to one or two people that I’ve definitely taken cues from over the years, he would be one. I think that he’s the great master of song.”
As another card-carrying member of the Cult of Cohen, I can certainly sympathize. Great Lake Swimmers are rapidly gaining stature and recognition within the Canadian music scene, I am constantly hearing their name dropped wherever I go and despite Dekker’s shy and modest nature, it seems that his brand of folk-pop is exactly what the doctor ordered for a lot of people these days. It is almost inevitable that his tiny and unassuming little project will reach far beyond what he likely ever intended.
