Blonde Diamond | Band of the Month
Magnetic Strangers, the debut LP from Vancouver’s Blonde Diamond, opens with the snap of a snare drum before organ, tremolo-bitten guitar, and a mission bell clang in chorus like three gunslingers, backlit by a blood orange sunset, silhouetted on some dusty 1800s high street. It’s a playful nod at the top of opener “Man With No Name”: vocalist and band leader Alexis Young is a student of Ennio Morricone and the soapy, soaring drama of Spaghetti Western soundtracks. And while the track’s title namechecks Clint Eastwood’s infamous character in Sergio Leone’s Dollars trilogy, it also plays into the name of the LP: Magnetic Strangers is a probe of desire and relationship not just between two individuals, but within oneself, too. “The Man With No Name” exists out there, but he also exists in here, in the very chemical, molecular bits of ourselves that we negotiate with each day.
“It’s a narrative about the laws of attraction, whether that be to a stranger, to a person, to a feeling, to a place,” says Young. The record’s menagerie of operatic, late-night indie rock and roll, dive-bar R&B, charred disco, and wide-eyed electro pop play host to a warring between choice, agency, reason, and compulsion.
“You can be a stranger to yourself,” continues Young. “Were you magnetic, or was it your choice? Are you able to choose, and ignoring it? People say you always have a choice, but then on the other side it’s unfair to say some people ‘have a choice.’ Things are not binaries. There’s always a spectrum of truth and reality. Maybe something was just a magical, scientific compulsion, the chemistry in your brain. You were overtaken, possessed. A stranger to yourself.”
The songs that comprise Magnetic Strangers were written over the past four years, some laying dormant before recording commenced prior to the pandemic at Coquitlam’s Echoplant Recording Studios with producer Ryan Worsley. COVID-19 lockdowns prompted Young and her partner, drummer Malcolm Holt, to designate their Fridays for pursuit of creative projects, a schedule which produced the rest of the record’s tracks, free from traditional timelines. “We just sat there and wrote what we wanted,” says Young. “We got to write a full-blown Spaghetti Western theme song, and then explore other darker tones.”
While Young says she was working to figure out her voice and message on prior releases, the period leading up to Magnetic Strangers brought a sense of confidence and space for her to “delve into the crooks of the brain that are feeling a little bit dark and shine a light on them.” After turning 30, she decided to redefine her work without consideration for what might be expected from a musician in her position. “It was exciting and terrifying for me,” says Young. “It became much more vulnerable and much more personal. But I feel like I have a newfound confidence.”
Young and Holt recorded most of the rest of the tracks at their home, with additional work completed at studios around Vancouver. Parker Bossley (Hot Hot Heat) produced alongside Young and Holt and played bass, while bandmates Louis Hearn and Bruce Ledingham handled guitars and synths, respectively.
The Morricone fanfare of “Man With No Name” opens Magnetic Strangers with drama and momentum. “It just makes you want to get on a fucking horse,” says Young. “It could be a horse, or it could be a metaphor: just saddle up and ride, through the day, through the night. It makes me excited to take on life’s challenges, and be really dramatic in that, too. What’s an adventure without a little drama?”
“Strange Times” is a guitar-forward indie rock strut into the throbbing synth-pop-rock of “Dreamland.” Then comes “In The Dark,” plucking alive with another wide-open, plains-riding guitar before ominous synths take the reins as Young chronicles a childhood of alienation and loneliness in suburban Calgary. “I’ll never break down, I’ll never fall/I’ll never come back home again,” calls Young over strings on the bridge, a rejection more of a feeling than a place.
“Loving You” comes next, a narcotic, churning alt-blues diamond that carries listeners into a dingy, smoke-filled, off-strip club in Las Vegas. Everything here is “lizardy and sad and sunken and sallow,” says Young. Lead single “Red Flags” leads off the album’s back half, a defiant, midtempo R&B jam that’s both soft and razor-sharp, with Young severing ties to a toxic relationship: “You’re danger, all red flags/Never let you get a hold of me.” The dark, glitter-smeared, escapist pop romp “We Just Wanna Dance” follows.
Retro-futuristic dance-pop hit “4AM Eternal” comes towards the record’s close, soundtracking an intoxicated love affair, before the poncho-clad guitar returns for finale “Losing Control,” echoing a familiar melodic motif before coiling and springing forward with drums, bass, and Young’s vocals. The chorus ratchets up the tension to a magnificent, explosive cinematic climax and comedown outro: “Intuition, wish it worked when I’m stoned/Got me shaking, I’m losing control,” Young near-whispers to close the album.
Magnetic Strangers’ ten tracks present a psychedelic, boundary-tensing work: that rare record which poses as many questions in its lyrics as it does in its compositions. If you’re brave enough to search for answers to them, Blonde Diamond invites you to saddle up.